18+ In the Blood

[Telleroftales]

The argument between Hale and the newcomer, the petite woman who, despite her size, radiated an aura of command, ended with the man hurling a bottle towards the far wall, where it shattered on impact. Solun instinctively reached for his gladius, and only stopped short of drawing the blade when he realized Hale posed no threat. He'd slumped into a chair, challenging the others to attempt to kill him, if they could. The old soldier settled back into his chair.

He'd seen outbursts like Hale's before. Soldiers that had seen too much death, lost too many friends. Eventually, something had to give. Fortunately, in the Legion, they had ways of helping those men and women.

Whether a few days on the town or just being rotated away from the front, perhaps even back to Cyrodiil, where the war was mere talk. Unfortunately, that support network had collapsed during the Long Retreat. Solun had lost count of the men who'd taken their own lives, or run off into the night, howling like madmen. Some had deserted. Others had simply dropped their gear and refused to fight.

Not every casualty of war was caused by a blade. To his surprise, the woman not only borr his tirade, she managed to talk him down, guiding him back to the table. Impressed, Solun nodded to her. Not everyone could be so collected in the same situation. He turned to Hale."I've no intention of killing you. Not unless you give me no choice. I'd rather hear about this 'lead' you've picked up."

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

No, she didn't deserve that, you damned fool. No one's deserved the pain you've caused them.

Still, Hale stood silent as Alice said her piece, even calming down some when she rubbed his wrists so gently and led him to a more comfortable seat, her final words easing him out of his episode. Relieving the flashbacks of those horrific days gone.

"Apologies, miss Alice," he muttered, seeing the others nearby eyeing them. "Though you don't...ahh, forget it. You are right," Hale Loneshadow said with a renewed vigor that was only somewhat forced.

Taking out his lute and strumming a light melodic folkloric tune of his people in a lilting and changing minor-to-major pentatonic, the former ranger relaxed in his seat and nodded at the barmaid for another bottle. He hoped the implication of strong drink was given enough as he strummed his song, waiting for the rest of the ever-increasing band to make their intentions known.

As he plucked the sheepgut strings, the Imperial whom he had first tried to make introductions to spoke up.

"I've no intention of killing you. Not unless you give me no choice. I'd rather hear about this 'lead' you've picked up."

Still mindlessly strumming away, Hale leaned back against the aging pine chair and propped a leg up on the opposite table. The worried looking barmaid ran back from behind the bar and returned with a dusty, nearly cracked bottle of flin. Hale nodded to her and deftly flicked her a handful of gold before continuing playing. Pausing only for a few moments, he pulled a rolled nirnroot cigarette from his sidepouch and lit it against the hearth fire's embers.

"Oh, but I've got a lead for us, Imperial," Hale replied, taking a deep drag of the sickly sweet smoke. "Though it primarily deals with a dank mineshaft, potential coven of Sickened mages, and myriad esoteric runes...if that at all interests you lot."

 

[Harkatti]

One of the men from the group of three approached and greeted the woman ahead of Katrina by name. The woman, Alice, seemed a little annoyed with the man, engaging him in a furious, hushed confrontation. Katrina eyed the others in the tavern, but most of the attention was either on the pair or involved in their conversations.

She began to edge toward an empty table when a sudden crash caused her to violently flinch away, her fingers tingling as arcane energy flowed through them, her mind reeling as she was yanked back to one of her least pleasant memories, back to that place... Before she could drown in the dark mire of her recollections, the door swung open behind her, and a pair of unlikely companions stepped through.

Katrina barely had time to register the hulking mass of a steel-scaled argonian, before she had to dash aside to avoid being run over. The argonian, a warrior by the look of him, excused himself before he and his dark elf friend went to the bar. By the time she tuned back in, the man and Alice had apparently resolved their dispute. She overheard them discussing leads, illness, and mines. Probably what I'm here for she thought to herself. But she had no desire to sit among the four of them, instead moving to an unoccupied table and perching at the edge of a bench to listen in.

 

[Simus]

The atmosphere in the tavern seemed to settle down with Alice and Hale. As they relaxed, the crowd relaxed. As their tension dropped, so did that of the room. It was the ideal end to such a public conflict but it was not the way she wanted to begin her night. Everything from her outfit to her discretion with the guards had been to not draw attention to herself and that had failed miserably when she started this stupid fight with Hale. She was embarrassed at causing such a scene but proud of herself for talking Hale down when he tried to get violent.

It really wasn't surprising considering what he'd been through. He was a solder that had seen too many horrible things in his life, been in too many terrifying battles and had too many sleepless nights for all of it. He had no direction in his life, he had no idea how to get it back and he was terrified of being lost forever. Alice had seen it with a hundred other men and women and that included herself. It had gotten so bad that the College of Winterhold had converted an entire wing of their keep into an asylum to try and help the afflicted. Alice was one of their first patients not so long ago and she'd never be able to forget those catatonic weeks. She was so completely broken back then that she still wasn't sure what had put her mind back together. Time, rest, the ever present support of friends and family and the care some of the best priests and mages in Skyrim all had a hand in it and it was likely a combination of all of those. That, and Alice had never truly given up on herself, no matter how bad things got or how much self loathing and shattered reality her brain thrust upon her. Perhaps that was all it took. The belief that you were worth saving. Alice believed that Hale could make that same journey. She would do everything in her power to see that he succeeded.

For the next ten minutes Alice simply relaxed. She enjoyed her dinner immensely, inhaling it as if she'd never eaten before. The chicken and dumplings were perfectly cooked and wonderful, the garlic bread was perfectly baked and the ale was strong, rich and wonderfully hoppy. She ordered a second helping of everything and took in the people around her as she waited. Hale was gently strumming a lute and it was genuinely soothing. The other two men at the table had given her and Hale space for their tantrum and they were wise to do so. Alice was finally able to get a good look at them and they were just as interesting as her old friend. They both wore a mix of leather and steel like Hale but were both noticeably less uniform. One of them was clearly a priest considering the dirty yellow robes he was wearing and his armour seemed particularly patched together. A scratched up chestplate here, a mail sleeve there and one steel shoulder pad. Either he had a smith cobble together what he could find due to a lack of something better or he had started with something better and had seen a truly grueling amount of combat. Alice suspected the latter considering she herself had gone through several suits of leather armour, imperial armour and the undersuits and catsuits she usually wore with them both for modesty and protection. Even enchanted gear could be bent and broken with enough abuse. The priest had seemed quiet but relatively relaxed.

The other man was clearly ex-legion. The way he carried himself and his Cyrodilic accent when he told Hale he wasn't going to kill anyone were dead giveaways. His mismatched armour was a wise precaution but if Alice could see through it then others could as well. She'd have to be careful with this one. Like her father, Alice had served with both the Stormcloaks and the Legion at different times across the last eight years and three wars. Their cause had always been what they felt was best for Skyrim, they were heroes to people in both armies and they had made it their mission to heal the scars between them. They had ended The Long Retreat, united Skyrim against the Thalmor during the Second Great War and did as much as they could to let the men and women of both armies go where they felt they belonged when the fighting was finally over. A great many settled down here in Skyrim but many others went back or moved to Cyrodil in search of greener pastures.

But despite all of their hard work there were people in both armies that hated Alice and her family for what they did. Many saw them as opportunists or mercenaries with no real values and people no one should trust. Many saw them as unpunished war criminals who should be hanged for what they did. When Alice published The Stormcloak Wars: A Firsthand History everyone's passions were inflamed. Alice has never regretted that decision. It was her story to tell and her way of making sense of events that had done so much damage to her mind, body and soul. But it had definitely made things more dangerous.

When her second round of food and ale got there Alice felt ready to introduce herself and apologize for the scene she had caused. "I'm sorry the two of you had to see that." She said with undisguised sincerity. "Starting an argument is never how I want to introduce myself and I should probably apologize to the group at the bar that's watching us as well. So allow me to make a proper first impression." She placed her right hand across her chest in introduction. "My name's Alice and I've come from Whiterun to help Rorikstead untangle this strange Sickness. Hale's an old acquaintance of mine from the recent wars and if he knows something about a mine shaft that would be a good first place to look. But we should wait until morning. I had to kill some very dangerous creatures on my way here. Large, shadowy beasts that some of the Jarl's men are calling Nether Wolves. They killed and ate at least three highwaymen in old Legion uniforms when I came across them. Did either of you see anything like that on your way here tonight?"

 

[Rafen]

"Dibella's tits!" Beren exclaimed under his breath, as the unfortunate bottle that he'd been loaned met its end against the wall. He quickly glanced at the quiet imperial, wondering if he'd been overheard. It wouldn't do for a proper priest to be swearing like a drunken sailor. The man didn't appear to notice, either too involved in his own thoughts or the ongoing argument.

The young woman that had been arguing with Hale managed to calm him, showing remarkable restraint and compassion. Both came to sit at the table, with the woman digging into a plate of chicken and dumplings, while Hale strummed a tune on his loot. The imperial and breton struck up a conversation, with Hale mentioning a lead that involved mineshafts, sick mages, and runes. "Sounds like something we should be investigating," Beren piped up.

The woman who'd come to sit with them identified herself as Alice, and mentioned that she'd fought three Nether wolves on her way to Rorikstead. The description of the beasts triggered a memory. "I've not seen them," he said thoughtfully, "but a hunter I encountered on the road had. Scared him right proper, too."

 

[FelidaePrime]

Tavir was distracted by the approach of a truly massive argonian man. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, a unique turquoise shade, as he asked about their common purpose. "I suppose so." She fished around in her belt pouch, and withdrew the slightly crumple notice. "I'm assuming you and your friend came across one of these? Or are you just here for all the exciting opportunities Rorikstead offers travelling blades?"

 

[Morbidbread]

"Flamboyant?" Thoras sipped his wine as he considered, "a fair point. Besides, I've been called worse. As to why I'm here? The gold, of course. And helping the fair folk of Skyrim." Their discussion was interrupted by the shatter of a bottle, thrown by the dark haired breton, who then proceeded to claim a chair, challenging the room at large to slay him, if they were able. He glanced to the human woman he'd been speaking with. "A lover's spat?" He guessed. The remark was flippant, but the elf was concerned. If they were to end up working together, having someone who could not control their temper under stress was a liability, not a boon.

Before he could investigate further, the door swung open yet again, allowing a fellow dunmer and a tall, broad shouldered argonian into the tavern. The female elf went straight to the bar, and the argonian lumbered over to where Thoras and the khajiit woman were. He didn't introduce himself, but he did hint that he was there for the same reason as the others.

"Then welcome, my fine argonian friend. Thoras Lorian, at your service." He leaned his glaive against the bar, and bowed deeply. "Let us celebrate another able body joining the cause with a drink! Barkeep!" The nord proprietor approached, "another bottle of wine, my good man!" He dropped a handful of coin on the bar between them.

 

[Telleroftales]

After she'd taken some time to decompress and eat some of her meal, the woman in the dark catsuit introduced herself as Alice. Solun thought he detected a faint imperial accent, but that meant little. He knew plenty of imperials had settled in Skyrim after the war, and more than a few had taken up mercenary work, like himself.

Still, Solun was nothing if not cautious. "Pleased to meet you, Alice. Solun Corinus, of Leyawiin." The Corinus's were a merchant family, in Leyawiin, as he'd said. He'd known their oldest daughter as a boy. He'd used the family name as an alias several times before.

He listened to her tale of the encounter with the so-called 'Nether wolves' on the road. Her description of the dead men in old legion uniforms concerned him. He guessed some of the legion had turned to banditry, but had hoped they wouldn't be so close to a main road.

The priest spoke up, mentioning that he'd heard of the beasts, but not yet seen one. He then turned to Hale, listening to the lead he'd gathered. "Worth investigating indeed," he said, agreeing with Beren. "We'll set out at first light."

 

[TheArgonianDrell]

Sothas nodded politely to the colourful dark elf, wondering what Aylira would make of him. As far as he could tell, the two were as different as night and day. "Sothas Abrium," he replied. "If I may ask, what do you know of this sickness? As I understand, it starts off with little more than a fever, before rapidly progressing until death." It sounded like many plagues that had ravaged whole kingdoms in the past. But no plague Sothas had heard of could withstand the magic of healers. No wonder the high king wanted things dealt with quickly.

 

[Simus]

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Solun.” Alice said, reaching across the table to shake his hand. “I’m from the Imperial City, though I’ve been here in Skyrim since I was eighteen. That was eight years ago and at this point Cyrodiil’s…not…really home anymore.” That was an understatement. Alice and Simus had felt like foreigners when they were finally able to go home again. They had gone back to the Imperial City with Ulfric’s delegation two years ago to sign the final peace treaty with The Empire. It was certainly a memorable return. The war really was over at that point. But like many things in Alice’s life it was bittersweet. The Imperial City she grew up in simply didn’t exist anymore. The burnt shell of their home had been torn down, the Thamor were gone, her family’s travails were forgotten and her old neighborhood was so battered by war as to be unrecognizable. Times had changed and her family simply didn’t belong there anymore. Skyrim was their home now. Alice and her husband Julius had a future here with her family and that made her genuinely happy.

“I’ve always wanted to visit Leyawiin. Being at the mouth of the Nibin and right between Elsweyr and Black Marsh always made it sound very cosmopolitan.” She looked behind her and the group at the bar had grown. In addition to the Dunmer in the long purple coat, the black furred khajiit and the haggard looking Breton woman who walked in with her there was now a tall and lithe dunmer woman and an absolutely massive armoured argonian. Someone who looked like he could wrestle a crocodile to the ground and start pulling teeth. “Should someone go over to the bar? That group’s probably here for the same reason we are and if we’re going into a mine shaft filled with half-crazy mages we’re going to need some backup.”

 

[Morbidbread]

Thoras's enthusiasm dimmed somewhat at the mention of the mysterious sickness, but he still shrugged, as though hardly worried about the disease. "Not much," he admitted, "but I do know that not many illnesses can withstand the healing powers of priests and healers." A hint of anger entered his voice, "I suspect some sort of sorcery or something of that ilk."

 

[Rafen]

Beren looked in the direction of the folk that were far from inconspicuous. "Hmm. I suppose we'd better make their acquaintances then, eh?" He stood from the table, and made his way to the bar, passing the haggard looking breton woman on the way. He considered speaking to her, but something in her eyes convinced him otherwise. She seemed capable enough, and he guessed she was here for the same reason as the majority of the people in the tavern at the moment.

Reaching the bar, Beren raised a hand in greeting. "Good evening, folks. I don't suppose you'd be here because of the high king's summons, would you?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, towards Alice, Hale, and Solun. "My companions and I have a lead that's worth investigating, and were wondering if you might want to tag along."

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

Hale grinned at the sight of the Arkayan priest going over to greet the other newcomers. All the while he continued to strum the strings of his luteish instrument, now in a decidedly more minor pentatonic tune. Holding the wooden lute-tar with one hand, the ex-ranger quickly repacked his pipe and lit it against the hearth fire.

"Sorcery indeed, ELF," Hale all but shouted at the group now gathered near the bar.

"S'would you all like to join us, or sulk there like the damned scoundrels you hope yourselves to be seen as?"

Ahh, that's good, making friends already, Loneshadow.

"Shut up," Hale muttered to himself, still playing the loping pentaharmonic tune.

Taking another deep swig of the bottle the barmaid had brought up -- it wasn't flin, that was certain, though Hale was now drunk enough to not cause a fuss -- the former ranger of Evondale began a drunken ballad while waiting on his more loafing companions.

"He's the guy whose the talk of the town, with the restless swoooord, and you may think he's a lazy type guy, always takes his tiiiime, though sure I know you'll be chagnging your mind, when you'seen him use his blade! He's the talk of the realm, always cooool, he's the best, he keeps alive with his blade and his bow! Now whose that guy whose a'running to town, but you won't bother to fluff him around, not when you seen him use a blaaaaaade."

Hale increased his volume exponentially louder, the madness within him getting frustrated with the obvious subtleties of the other mercenaries trying to scope out the place, and him.

"Oye! Y'know we all know what ye'all are here for," he slurred, taking another deep swig of the mysterious liquid and an equally deep drag of his pipe. In a few smooth moments, Hale sprung up on the edge of the hearth fire and began a blazing tune on his lute to match the fire in his heart.

"I know your kind well, and I know you want some gold, so quit your evading and do us all the courtesy of showing you want to join with us!" he shouted over his vigorous playing.

"S'do us all a favor and stop pretending!"

 

[TheArgonianDrell]

Aylira ordered a large plate of food for her friend, and a somewhat smaller plate for herself. She found herself grinding her teeth as one of the four men began to play his lute and singing in a slurring voice between shouting at the group at the bar to approach. Aylira had never liked bards. They were usually, without exception, too loud and too friendly. And they gave her a headache. She placed Sothas's plate next to him, just as the man started to shout again. She looked at the human in the yellow robes and mismatched armour. "Is he a friend of yours?" She asked, tilting her head towards him, "because he's going to have to learn to sing without a tongue." She instinctively reached for the dagger at her side and began walking towards him.

Nearby, Sothas was fast enough to snag the elf's elbow, pulling her back before she could do something regrettable. "Let's try to keep the mutilations to a minimum," he rumbled. Then he turned to the man that'd introduced himself as Beren. "Perhaps you could have a word with your companion there? If we are to work together, it would be best if we all start off on good relations, yes?"

 

[Telleroftales]

There was little more to be said, and eventually, the mercenaries, adventurers, and outcasts paid for their rooms and took their evening rest. Solun dreamt of scurrying things, lurking in the dark, of a familiar voice calling out to him. When he woke, he felt less rested than the previous day. Leaving his room, he noted the others beginning to prepare for a day of travel and headed outside after purchasing some provisions for the road. The sky was shades of pink and orange with the rising sun, and the cool air helped focus him.

The path running through the village was wet with the rain from the previous night, puddles full of murky water reflecting the dawn sky. It wasn't yet cold enough for the first frost, but Solun could see his breath clouding in the air. The near confrontation from the night before, between Hale and the dark elf woman, troubled him. With a mysterious sickness running rampant, possibly with sinister figures behind it, infighting was the last thing they needed.

Noise near the wooden gate drew his attention. He looked up to see a group of soldiers, Stormcloaks, marching towards the inn. Solun opened the door to the inn, calling his companions outside. By the time the others had assembled outside, the soldiers had arrived. Their leader, a scarred, blonde-haired man, cast a critical gaze over them. For a moment, Solun thought he saw a glimmer of surprise on his face, but it passed before the former legionnaire could be certain. "Hmmph. Not a proper nord among you." He grunted, then shook his head. "Maybe that's for the best. Gather around!"

He removed a bulging burlap sack from his belt. He opened it, revealing plain silver medallions. "These amulets have been warded against disease." The man explained. "You'll all need to take one."

Solun stepped forward, and lifted the proffered trinket, examining it in the dawn's light. It didn't look or feel special, though he had no way of knowing whether the silver actually possessed any magical properties. "Do they work?" He asked, tucking it into a belt pouch.

The nord officer shrugged, "no clue. If you come across the Sickness and survive, I guess it works." He paused, then added, "gods be with you." He turned, leading his entourage back the way they'd come.

Solun turned to Hale. "Well? You're the one who came up with this lead. Where's this mine you heard of?"

 

[Harkatti]

Katrina took advantage of the Breton’s singing distraction to slip away, acquire a room for herself and get some rest. From what she’d gathered during her eavesdropping, the coming day would require everyone to be at least somewhat rested. What they would face, no one, not even the singer, seemed to know. That alone made the Breton woman nervous, but she needed the coin.

The next morning, Katrina woke from a troubled sleep. Then, her sleep was always troubled. After a breakfast of plain porridge, she joined the others in heading out the door. She was surprised to see the soldiers and even more so when they bestowed amulets said to protect from disease upon the group. Taking hers, she retreated to the group’s edge. She could feel a thrum of magical energy in the plain silver, but couldn’t identify the enchantment. She secured them item in a pocket, and waited to see who among them would take the lead.

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

The combination of flin, battle, and general exhaustion suddenly hit Hale like an ambushing ice troll. Just then, the words to the tune came out decidedly more slurred and exceedingly more ridiculous by the second. Feeling the weight of his exposed cowardice as well as the gravity and necessity of the quest they were all about to embark upon, Hale stumbled back against the small stone palisade of the Frostfruit's hearth fire as he murmured out his final stanzas, still strumming away.

"We're trapped in a realm, that's clouded with sick, but if I could dream of a warmer land where all my comrades walk hand-in-hand, oh gods why, why can't that land appear? We're lost in a realm, that's troubled with pain, but as looong as a man has the hope to dream, he can redeem his soul, and fiiiight.."

The memories of that final battle swept the former ranger, the former Captain of Evondale with a bursting fury. Memories of leaving his friends, his kin, and most of all his sworn enemy to do more wicked upon the world overtook Hale in those moments.

"Ahh, well..." Hale started, "It seems we will be taking off soon on the 'morrow then, m-hic my dears! Don't lets this cowardly old bard trouble you no furtherrrrr..."

With that, the once-great warrior collapsed against the comforting warm rocks of the Frostfruit's central fire and, knowing he'd naturally be up anyways hungover or not, slank away into the deep security of sleep. He dreamed of friends and loves long past and now resurged, and muttered their names while he slept.

***********

The next morning came abruptly, and with shooting pains behind the former warrior's eyes that he was far too used to these past years. Only with the grace of his god did he see Mralki readying breakfast, and so Hale Loneshadow sauntered up to the bar and rapped his knuckle against the weathered wood, throwing down a few coin and giving the old man and knowing nod. Although bland, the hearty porridge calmed the ex-ranger's queasy stomach and allowed him to regain some level of decency he had forgotten once more the previous evening. Stepping outside into the crisp Skyrim morn just in time to see the last vestiges of the sunrise, Hale noticed the man who had introduced himself as Solun the previous night (at least THAT you remembered, you fool) and the striking Breton woman who had all but hid as well as Hale wished he could most days.

"Good Morndas then, companions..." Hale muttered, before realizing Solun had thrown a brusque question his way.

"Ah, yes, ehh, the mine...that would be the one in the old, twice-damned town of Karthwarsten," said Hale.

"We can all start moving as soon as we all are ready but," he mumbled, leaning in closer with an airy dramatic of mystery, "Suffice it to say, I've heard from my sources that it's home to coven of Sickness-maddened mages, and perhaps even a vampire or two! So, you think you've the stomach for that fight in you?"

Hale had been ready for a final battle since...that day. Though, in truth, Loneshadow was finding himself far more eager to face this dark Sickness than he had been to face anything these last few years. Maybe, because in the back of his mind, Hale was pondering two distinct things. One, that this could be the first competent group of adventurers and potential friends that he had traveled with in some time...while secondly, and the piece that he couldn't shake no matter how much nirnroot he smoked that morning, that his age-old enemy was somehow, some way, behind this new devilry plaguing the land and its people.

 

[Rafen]

Beren's attempt to bring the group at the bar into the fold was somewhat complicated by Hale's slurred demands that they approach. The big argonian approached him, suggesting he have a word with the man. When he turned to do just that, he saw the breton slumping to the ground near the hearth. "Well...that's that sorted," he muttered to himself. "Our friend there has the right idea though. We should all get some rest. The road will be challenging, I think." As the others went to their rooms, Beren sat alone at the bar, hands clasped together. Arkay...guide bless our journey. If this sickness is as dangerous as I believe, we will need your help. He prayed silently.

The next morning, the former mercenary ate with the others, and had just finished when Solun called the entire group outside. Grabbing his hammer, Beren joined the imperial and the others outside. A group of soldiers had arrived, and one of them was handing out silver medallions. When his turn came, the breton tossed it, caught it, and shoved it into his robe pocket. "Much obliged, friend," he said to the soldier.

They left shortly after, and Solun demanded the location of Hale's lead. Which he provided as Karthwasten. Beren shuddered, a memory of his past life flashing before his mind's eye. Smoke thick in the air as flames devoured the hide tents of the Forsworn camp, screams ringing in the air as the mercenaries, Beren's comrades in arms, butchered old men, women, and children...He shook his head, coming to in time to hear Hale mention vampires. "With Arkay with us, we needn't fear those leeches." He grinned and hefted his hammer. "Though a good smack from this helps a bit."

 

[FelidaePrime]

Tavir woke early and crept from her room and out of the inn. She sat on the balcony railing, her tail slowly twitching to and fro, as she watched the sunrise. Her ears twitched as the door opened, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the imperial man step outside, apparently lost in his own thoughts. A little later, a group of nord soldiers entered the village, piquing her interest. One of them, their leader, presented a sack filled with plain silver medallions. The leader of the little group claimed they were enchanted to resist disease, which made sense to her.

She picked up one, turning it back and forth between two fingers. It certainly didn't seem special, but she had about as much magical sensitivity as a rock. Gradually, the others got their own items, before assembling and waiting to head out. The breton man who'd serenaded them the previous night mentioned the place they were looking for was in Karthwasten. "I've never been to Karthwasten," she admitted, "what's it like?"

 

[Simus]

The Breton priest got up to engage with the group at the bar when Alice mentioned them. Which she was just fine with since that meant she didn’t have to do it. Her tense journey from Whiterun and fight with the Nether Wolves had finally caught up with her and she was exhausted. She’d had to make arrangement with both her family and her garrison before she’d left this afternoon and all of them were worried about her. She’d had to convince them all she needed to do this alone and that ranged from irritating with her men to upsetting with her husband. Then she’d gotten packed and changed into her stealthsuit and headed off after the lightest dinner Jules would let her get away with. She didn’t want to eat anything but she just couldn’t say no to one of her husband’s egg and cheese sandwiches. Or his infuriatingly genuine sincerity in taking care of her before she left. Or when he cradled her hands into his, kissed her tear filled eyes and gently asked her to stop when she called herself a bad wife. Her suit hands were no barrier at all to the warmth of his and they were the gentlest pair in all of Skyrm. They held her as steady as High Hrothgar when they hugged each other goodbye and she teared up more. She hated leaving him at home like this but he could help her more by keeping her men ready to fight and she'd never be able to live with herself if something happened to him that she could have stopped. She'd almost died tonight and that could have been him. But he was safe. If they could stop the Sickness everyone would be safe.

It looked like she wasn't the only one who'd had a long day. The ex-legionary Solun didn't engage at all in the conversation she'd tried to strike up, no one at the bar was particularly talkative and Hale decided to serenade the common room. And by serenade she meant drunkenly scream nonsense lyrics while banging on lute strings like he was clawing at dirt. No one enjoyed it but the lithe dunmer woman next to the massive argonian said he'd need to learn to sing without a tongue. That was a bit harsh but Alice couldn't deny that wouldn't be an improvement in this situation. She very much appreciated it when Hale succumbed to his own exhaustion and fell asleep in a chair by the fire. He nearly fell headfirst into it but falling down drunk by a fire, that was a choice. With her friend more or less safe for the night Alice collected her pack and weapons, got a room and headed upstairs to bed.

The first thing she did when she got some privacy was get out of her suit. It was an amazing piece of technology and she loved wearing it but wrapping everything but her face in skin tight fabric was definitely constricting. As usual, she had a little trouble with the zipper thanks to the hands but she got out easily enough. She grimaced as she realized she was covered in dried sweat but this is why so after stripping her bra and underwear she walked over to the room's wooden tub by the chamber pot and ran herself a bath. Her flames and frost spell mixed above the tub to form a stream of water and after a little more fire magic it was nice and warm. It felt wonderful as she sank into it. Her sweat came right off with her soap and washcloth, the bruises on her back and shoulders felt much better and she was able to rest her head against the wall and simply relax.

What had happened to Hale that day on the field at Eastmarch? Where had he been hiding since then? What did everybody else in the tavern think what was up with them? She'd have to find out these answers in time but they probably looked like an angry ex couple. She didn't really care what a bunch of strangers thought but it would be a good idea to explain herself if anyone asked tomorrow.

She let herself soak for a good while, long enough to where she almost fell asleep in the tub. After a long yawn she knew it was time for bed. She climbed out of the tub, dried off and got out her footy pajamas for tonight. Her white pair with black skulls was of course her favorite but it had been a while since she'd worn the other pair she had with her and they needed some love. They were a dark blue with white, black and sky blue snowflakes and were the only pattern every member of her family had a pair of. Even her dad and Jules had a pair. She needed their love tonight.

She climbed into them and got zipped up, running her hands along the warm soft fabric over her stomach and smiling at how cute and comfortable she was. And since her fireplace didn't have any wood and this room was much colder than the tavern they were perfect for tonight. She climbed into bed and got wrapped up under her bed's covers after she got Kim out. She held her bunny tightly and took her rounded left paw into her right hand, smiling contentedly that her eighteen year old stuffed animal had held up so well. She was ready to fall asleep but there was one more thing she had to take care of. She unrolled the scroll of sending she'd gotten out and quietly spoke her message into it.

Arrived at Rorikstead safely. Fought Nether Wolves but okay. Found Hale Loneshadow. Will help with Sickness. Hear from me soon. I love you. Mad?

She thought of Jules and the message vanished into the scroll. His reply came a minute later.

Glad you're okay. More Wolves every month. Will let family know. Be careful of Hale. Call if need help. Never mad. Always love you beautiful.

Alice beamed at the message as if she'd just found the cure to the Sickness. She had the best husband in all of Nirn. Her scroll only had enough magika for one more message before it needed to recharge. That would take until sunrise and the message could only be twenty five words long but that would be long enough.

Thank you. Best husband. Will write if we need help. Found good group. Hale has lead. Will be careful. Last message. More tomorrow. Goodnight handsome.

Any time. Best wife. Will look for message. Can come in three hours. Come home soon. Goodnight beautiful.

Alice smiled at her last message for the night. She would be okay. If things went bad in the mineshaft tomorrow she could call for help and if this group abandoned or betrayed her she could get herself out. That was enough for tonight so she held Kim tighter, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Now that she was warm, comfortable and safe it didn't take long.

She slept in as long as she could but when she saw the bright fingers of dawn poking through her window she knew it was time to get up. She'd slept well. She was so tired last night she didn't need any nirnroot candy and she didn't get any visions. It was always nice to have a night like that because they didn't happen often enough. She stripped her footy pajamas and got dressed for the day. She ws definitely going into combat today but she still wanted to stay out of uniform so her catsuit outfit would be best. Her catsuit was a skin tight black turtleneck jumpsuit just like her stealthsuit but it was made of leather rather than stretchy spidersilk. This made it less stretchy and it made a little more noise when it did so but it had the same matte finish, was a bit thicker and therefore warmer and was easier to get into since it zipped up in the front rather than the back. It also left Alice's hands, feet and head uncovered so it was a little easier to relax in and she didn't have to rely on the enchantments so much to keep it clean.

After she got into her suit she pulled on a tall pair of socks under the long legs and zipped up her tall leather boots from last night. Then, to complete her black leather look she pulled on a pair of elbow length gloves. The overlapping leather of her suit, gloves and boots would keep her warm outside and in the mine shaft and if she needed something warmer she had a long black hooded cloak in her pack. Next came her leather armour. She hadn't worn it last night because she'd found armour interfered too much with her stealthsuit to be worth it but that was obviously not a problem today. The pieces were dyed Stormcloak blue rather than the black of her suit or a more neutral brown so it provided some nice contrast and made her recognizable when she wasn't trying to hide. There was also a chance it would reveal her true occupation but the colour was now popular enough in Skyrim to where she was theoretically safe. If not, she supposed she'd just have to explain herself. With her armour on and the matching open round top helmet atop her head she grabbed her pack and weapons and headed downstairs.

Breakfast was a simple and quiet affair of porridge, eggs and tea. The porridge was a bit watery but a little honey made it go down easier and the tea and eggs were good. She gave a yawn filled thank you to the morning's innkeeper and headed outside. It was cold and muddy but not freezing and the dawn light provided a surprisingly cheery backdrop to their mission. Several members of the group were already outside and a group of Stormcloaks were passing out silver medallions that they said would ward off disease. That was a nice thought but it provided Alice little comfort. She'd read every report she could get on the effectiveness of such trinkets, many of which she'd written herself, and all but the most optimistic determined their power to be anecdotal at best and codswallop at worst. Even so, it wasn't impossible and she'd keep that to herself even if it was.

None of the Stormcloaks seemed to recognize her and that was a good start. Either she was blending in better than she feared her rank and fame would allow or the guards from last night had given the others some very clear instructions. Either way she was relieved. The black furred Khajiit she saw at the bar last night then asked what Karthwasten was like. Alice took her question as a good opportunity to both announce her presence and inform an answer.

"It's a mining town in The Reach. When silver prices are good it's quite prosperous but when the market takes a dip it always falls on hard times. The Stormcloak Wars made those times significantly harder. Several years ago a large warband of Foresworn took the city hostage. Markarth's Legion garrison couldn't get to them fast enough and the local Stormcloak detachment had to hire a band of mercenaries to retake the town. The attack was successful but...casualties were high. The Stormcloak officer....well...she had trouble controlling her men. A lot of innocents were killed in vengance."

That was an understatement. The Stormcloak commander was court martialed for failure to maintain discipline. It was a court martial she requested because she knew she was in the right. She'd done everything she could to keep the mercenaries under control and ended up having to kill a couple after the damage was done. She was cleared of all charges as soon as this was brought to light, the commander's record was untarnished and her reputation for honestly was established. But it was a horrible mistake that the commander had never forgotten and had tried to learn from.

No one needed to know that that commander was Alice. But it was a shame, not a secret. If anyone called her out, she would tell the truth.