So Acadian's got Enilwen wanting new shoes. I offer her some nice upper-class green velvet slippers, and she likes the material, but it's the wrong color to go with her uniform. "I want ones just like that, but in red - with the gold trim, of course."

I point out that you can't get those in the stores, they'll have to be hand-made specially for her. That makes her want a pair even more.

So I make her a pair, and she wears them to work.

Enilwen's new shoes

"Ooh! I like those. Can I have a pair?"

"Me too!"

"Me three, or is that four?"

"Eight, since they come in pairs"

It didn't help that I'd already drafted a few more episodes, and there wera couple more women expecting a uniform (with the new shoes included). At least they didn't expect me to build a whole town for them, like Kintyra.

"Ooooh!" squeals Buffy, "I neeeeeed a pair of those! Can I get child's discount for little feet? Puleeez!?!"

Nice shoes !!!

@Acadian: Going over the borders again with this one, but now the reporter gets to do the travel in person, instead of just collecting the traveler's tale. And Enilwen thanks you for getting her some new shoes. Any time you're near the Club, just drop in....

@mALX: A lot of this next one results from your pointing me at the Septim lineage on the wiki. Lore overload coming up! I reasoned that Cephorus II had to be a descendent of Jolethe, or he wouldn't be "a closer relative" than Uriel IV, so she must have married when she went to Solitude (or at least enjoyed her stay!) That should give me the chance for a few more relatives in the area, so it became worth while having a Falkreath town to set it all in.


This is a bit of a departure from the previous episodes, in that the reporter takes part in the quest himself. (I almost wrote "takes part in the action", but he's been getting enough of that! And it doesn't stop.) In the mod, of course, it's the player that would do it, so there are quite a few differences to make it work, not the least being that the player doesn't get as well rewarded.

I'm building the whole Falkreath thing as a bridge between the Bear Riders mod and the Gweden one, that will require both as masters. I consider it more part of the Gweden story, but the lines will get very blurred as it progresses. The reporter hasn't read my reports on the Champion's involvement with the Mountain Riders, so Claudia has to fill in the background in this piece.

---------

Kintyra - part 1

The reporter from the Black Horse Courier had been given an assignment to go to Falkreath, just over the border in Skyrim. He was to investigate a distant cousin of the late Emperor, who might just be the nearest relative left. She was a descendent of the same branch of the Septim line that Cephorus II came from, several generations back, but via a sister of his forebear, so she didn't have the Septim name..

The trails in that area of the border were treacherous, and often obscured by snow and ice, so they would have one of the Mountain Riders act as his guide. He'd meet up with her at the Lodge outside Bruma. Claudia would be there for her regular break from her patrol, and she'd take him the rest of the way.

He'd heard of the Mountain Riders, but had never met one. He knew that they were all women, and rode bears rather than horses, but not much else.

When he had to travel, he would try to accompany the Legion patrol along as much of the road as he could. They weren't the most inspiring company, but they'd sometimes have news of events along their route, and of course it was much safer travelling with them. He'd appreciate having a Mountain rider escort up in the mountains, and hoped she'd be a better travelling companion than the usual Legionaries.

When he entered the Lodge, the only person he saw was the barman. His name was Magnus, and he'd seen Claudia go downstairs with Timo just before the reporter arrived. He suggested that the reporter have an ale while he waited, as she wouldn't want to be interrupted. "Or you could go up to the office and see Captain Gudrun. She might have some further instructions for you."

There wasn't any good reason not to do both, so he downed a quick small ale, and then headed up the stairs. He knocked on the office door, and was commanded to enter.

Captain Gudrun was a leggy blonde Nord in her late twenties or early thirties with an apparent aversion to being too covered up. Her uniform consisted of a plate metal bikini with some decorative shoulder plates, and a pair of (high-heeled) plated riding boots, but mostly smooth, tanned skin. A broad smile revealed perfect white teeth, and her hair was carefully coiled into a bun to make her look even taller. She bent over the map she'd placed on her desk, to make sure he caught her good side.

Gudrun had been expecting him, and already knew who he was, and where he was going. She pointed out a mark, up by the borders of Hammerfell and Skyrim. "That's Sky's Edge Cave," she told him. "Claudia knows where that is, because her bear was delivered there. You'll most likely use it as a place to meet up again after you've been across the border to Falkreath, so I suggested to her that you stop on the way there. Did you meet Claudia yet?"

"Magnus told me she was down in the basement with Timo. He mentioned something about recharging."

Gudrun gave him a mischievous smile, and reached behind her back to where her armor fastened. "Then she won't mind if I welcome you to the Lodge myself,"

...

"Well, that was a warm welcome!" he thought as he walked down to the bar in the morning to look for Claudia. He saw a young Redguard sitting at a table with a mug of ale and caught her eye. She beckoned him over to join her. He got himself a bottle and tankard from Magnus and did so.

When he got closer, he saw that she shared her taste in outfits with Gudrun, except that her top was plain iron, and didn't flaunt her cleavage the way the Captain's did. It was still cropped short, and between it and her boots was the minimum amount of cloth to stop her getting arrested. She noticed that he'd noticed. "Standard Bear Rider uniform", she explained. "Everything's strongly enchanted with Frost Shield to keep me warm, and safe."

She told him how the bears they rode had issues with armor trapping their fur, so they needed something that would protect them, and keep them warm, but not irritate the bear. They'd tried wearing thick woolen dresses, but they couldn't fight well in those, and they didn't provide much protection. Eventually the Legion had paid the extra for magical defense instead. Why so much skin on show? The bears liked it better that way.

Gudrun wore plate armor that the bears wouldn't tolerate, but she didn't ride. Her job in public relations, which mainly consisted of looking good, called for a ceremonial outfit, rather than an operational one. It still had the Frost Shield, in case she had to stand out in the cold wearing it. "And don't underestimate her fighting ability. I've seen how she handles a Claymore, and she's quite impressive." He'd been quite impressed by Gudrun, too.

They'd finished their ales, so it was time to head out along the trail. Claudia took the lead, and her bear brought up the rear. He couldn't ride a bear himself, and he'd never keep up if she rode*, so they'd have to do the journey on foot. It would be a bit slower that way, but that just meant she'd have some company for a longer time.

After watching her derriere swaying along the path for a while, he decided it would be better for his sanity if he walked at her side, at least while there was a clear trail to follow. That made conversation easier, too.

A reporter likes to ask questions, and there's no better subject than the pretty girl you're walking with, so he soon found himself listening to her life story. She was half-Nord, with two Nord grandfathers, and she'd always dreamt of being a Mountain Rider..

But she'd had to put that idea on hold for a while, as her family all moved to the Imperial City. Claudia much preferred the mountains, and revived her idea of joining the Legion as a Mountain Rider as soon as she was old enough. Her father thought it was a good idea for her to get the military training, so she could look after herself. Her mother agreed, but for other reasons. Riders were the most sought-after as wives when they retired, and so mothers encouraged their daughters to aspire to the service.

Now she'd been a Rider for a time, she'd begun to understand why. The bears had a reputation for preferring riders who were pretty, as well as strong and athletic. The uniform didn't hurt their attractiveness either. But what really made the women desirable was they'd be away from men on their patrols for months on end, and would practically throw themselves at anything male.

"Gudrun's doing a good job as our Captain," Claudia allowed. "She recruiited Timo to do our recharging, when we take our break at the Lodge. He's made it a lot less of a strain."

"It's a bit ironic that I went from trying to keep the Watch Captains out of my bed, to the opposite extreme overnight, but that's the way it was. The Lodge didn't get built until months after I started my patrol." She told him how the Champion of Cyrodill had played a part in both.

That reminded her of another story about how Timo thought he was becoming a dog. The Champion had found him a cure, but he'd learned a few new tricks in the meantime. The reporter got the impression that, in Claudia's opinion, Timo needed a few more.

They were climbing higher into the mountains now, and he stopped to put on another layer of furs. Even though Claudia had been setting a brisk pace, which helped to keep him warm, he still needed a bit more insulation from the bitter cold air. And if he was being honest, he'd admit that he also needed to stop and catch his breath. He was starting to understand how the magical armor she wore made perfect sense up here, and the high heeled boots that seemed impractical before, were giving her better grip on the ice than his ordinary leather ones.

Dusk was falling and she lit a torch, as they walked up to the Hermaeus Mora shrine. The worshippers there appeared to be oblivious to the cold, although a small pile of empty bottles suggested a reason why. They continued down the other side of the ridge into a snow-filled valley.

There didn't appear to be a trail here, so he was following her again. At least it was dark now, and he was following the torch rather than the girl. He could hear wolves howling not too far away, but it appeared that they didn't want to come near the bear, and nothing crossed their path.

Soon another trail could be seen through the snow, and she picked up her pace a little. "We're nearly at the cave."

Sky's Edge Cave was small and cozy, You could light a fire and the smoke would escape through a hole at the top of the rock, and there were a lot of crates you could stack up to block the cold breeze blowing under the door. Someone had already done that, and there was a comfortable-looking bedroll nestled among them.

Claudia told him that the cave was used as a impromptu warehouse by the traders who moved goods across the borders. They'd pack and unpack crates here, separating the wares that were headed for Hammerfell from those going to Skyrim, or coming the other way. She didn't normally come here as part of her patrol.. That stopped at the entrance to the shrine, but she'd add the extra stretch on until he returned.

There was a pile of firewood and kindling already waiting to be lit in a hearth near the bedroll. Claudia advised him to do the same for the next traveller who came through. She used a minor fire spell to start it, and sat down to take off her boots as soon as its warmth began to fill the cave. Her bear got up and moved a bit further away from the fire. "Hey, I don't have smelly feet, do I?"

She didn't; the bear just preferred to be a bit cooler, but he was reminded that bears have an excellent sense of smell. Gudrun had told him that was one of the reasons they preferred women riders. They just smelled better than men.

He watched as the bear piled up some hay and made itself a pillow, and settled down to sleep. When he looked back at Claudia, she had taken off her cuirass and was waxing the leather of the straps. She hadn't been wearing anything under it, and if her backside was a distraction, the front view was even more so.

He wondered why she wasn't shivering, as he still needed a layer of fur to keep out the cold air, but she still had the one tiny item of her uniform in place. He could see that the Frost Shield would need to be strongest on that, for it didn't offer much defense.

She stood up, picked up a big pile of wolf and bear pelts and made a couple of layers on top of the bedroll. Then she slid between the layers, and called him to join her. "Once I get these off, I'll need you to keep me warm," she said.

He didn't have the advantage of using her method, so he was quite aware of the chill in the cave by the time he'd taken off his furs and snuggled in with her. Her hands were warm, and soon undid the effects of the cold air.

---

When they woke in the morning, she reached out and re-kindled the fire before squirming back into her frost-proof panties. She held his clothes close to the flames, one piece at a time, so they'd be warm enough to put on without too much of a shock. Once he was wearing enough to stand beside her, she turned her attention to breakfast. She put on her boots, and walked over to a barrel by the cave wall and looked inside.

She pulled out a sweetroll, and a loaf of bread. Turning back to him, she held out one in each hand and asked which he preferred. Since she hadn't yet put on her cuirass, he had plenty of opportunity to misunderstand her question, and spend a few moments admiring both of them.

She gave him the bread, and looked back in the barrel for something for the bear. Perfect, berries!

When they had all finished eating she put her top on and picked up her claymore. Time to head for the border.

They walked a little way further along the trail they'd followed the night before. Claudia pointed to a gap between the rocks up ahead. "Once you go between those rocks, you'll be able to see Falkreath," she told him. "The rocks are right on the border, and I'm not allowed to go into Skyrim without a pass. You have yours, don't you?" Gudrun had given him that before he left Bruma.

"I'll see you back at the cave in a week," he promised. "Keep safe!".

She stood and watched as he trudged through the snow towards the border. One part of her mind was thinking "What's wrong with me? I haven't retired yet, and I'm throwing myself at men already." Another part was telling her that it proved she was normal, and she should only get worried when they started throwing her back.


-----------

* The reason he'd never keep up is that the bears run all the time when their rider is mounted. And that's all because the mounted walk animation is broken, and I don't know how to fix it!

Claudia's tale was told here

Falkreath is a bridge between the Bear Riders mod and the Gweden one? And the Red Dragon Club is also connected? How much space do these mods take up, and is Falkreath going to be just an "out of borders" mod?

Great Write on the chapter, I liked being reminded of some of the great background stories from the Bear Riders that we haven't heard in a LONG time! (like Timo) !!

The Red Dragon Club is part of the Gweden Brothel mod, not a separate piece. When I started on the quest this episode leads to, it was also just going to be added on, but I wanted to use parts of the Riders one, too. After fiddling around with the CS for a while I figured out that the only way I can get it to work is as a separate plug-in that has two masters. That way Gweden Brothel and the Mountain Riders can be independent, but share this expansion. I'll include it with Gweden as an option that you can install if the other mod is also there. BAIN archives make that an easy process in Wrye Bash. The downside is one more .esp file, if you're close to the 254 limit. I already have optional installation of the SI parts of each, along the same lines.

Without giving too much away, I've been wanting to create an Orc Bear Rider for some time, but couldn't figure out a way to do so. Adding a trainer in Falkreath means that she can have visitors from all over Tamriel, including the Wrothgarians, where they'd need patrols, wouldn't they?

It was nice to see our bare bear riders again. Quite the welcome from Gudrun!

‘Gudrun had told him that was one of the reasons they preferred women riders. They just smelled better than men.’
I agree.

Claudia wears frost-enchanted panties, but she certainly is not frigid!

Nit – just a tiny typo:
'Claudia much preferred the mountains, and revived her idea of joing the Legion as a Mountain Rider'

Somehow I missed the Enilwen part! Figuring out the master’s race was fun. How funny, I have been thinking a lot about invisibility and archers today. I love the new velvet shoes. Now Abiene wants a pair in brown.

Oh, big fun with the bear riders, and a good reason for their high-heeled boots. I suspect that many Champions will not mind walking behind Claudia for as long as necessary. Neat that this connects the bear riders with Gweden.

@Acadian: Claudia hasn't finished with him yet!

@Grits: Enilwen's better seen than not. Especially when she's armed and dangerous.

@mALX: I connected the bears to Falkreath when I decided, way back, that Jokull the trader lived there. He was the one waiting in the cave with Claudia's bear back in her story. I've added a house for him, but I'm still trying to work out how to give him an AI setup that has him out of town most of the time, without traveling into Cyrodiil. The game doesn't like people to go past the ends of the map!

---

Kintyra - part 2

Behind one of the rocks was a small hut, and a guard emerged from it. The tabard over his mail bore the Stag's head insignia of Falkreath. He looked briefly at the papers the reporter showed him, and pointed down the valley. The small town of Falkreath was just beyond the ridge.

Most of the houses looked relatively new, as if the town had had to be rebuilt not too long ago. That wasn't too surprising, as it stood next to two disputed borders, and must have seen more than its share of sieges. That impression was augmented by the large graveyard he passed, presumably the resting place of the armies that had fought here.

He'd been told to ask at the Jarl's house for directions, as it was always politic to let the authorities know why you were there. Unless, of course, you didn't want them to know. This time, any help from the Jarl would be useful. They knew where to find Kintyra, and wished him the best of luck with her.

The building at the other end of the street, that he'd been directed to, turned out to be a tavern. Behind the bar was a young Nord woman who was selling ale, and advertising milk. But when he looked up from her ample cleavage, her face made him wish he hadn't.

It would have been a very pretty face if it didn't have a sour expression that let you know the answer was an emphatic "No", whatever the question was. He wondered if she ever did any business. He asked for an ale anyway, and was pleasantly surprised by the reasonable price she charged him, if not by the tone of her voice. He took the bottle and tankard and walked over to a table in the corner, where an old man sat drinking alone.

When he asked about Kintyra, the old man indicated the woman behind the bar. "That's her. Used to be the friendliest barmaid in town, until she met that Redguard. Broke her heart, he did, running off with another woman, just when she thought he was going to marry her. I reckon she'd have chased after him and killed him, if she didn't have to stay here and care for her mother."

"Oh, her mother's still alive, is she?" asked the reporter. "I'd heard that Anya died on the road from Whiterun. Wasn't there an attack by trolls on their caravan, or something?"

"Aye, she nearly died in that, and was missing for a while. When they found her, they thought she was dead, but the dog that they used to track her wouldn't let them bury her. He knew she was still alive,.but she seemed to be totally paralyzed. She can swallow liquids and move her eyes, but she can't move her limbs, or talk. Kintyra or a servant has to attend to her constantly."

That changed his mission a bit. The older woman would be ahead of her daughter in succession to the throne, if they indeed had any claim. In her current condition, Kintyra would have to act for her, so you could argue that she'd still hold the power. But the Elder Council wouldn't want a Regency at a time when the throne was weak anyway.

Still, if the lineage wasn't right, it would all be moot. He still had to make the same inquiries, and find out more about their family tree. It would just be more complicated than he'd expected. The first thing he had to do now was to try and find a cure for Anya, so he could get her story.

He asked around the town, and found that the local healer had tried the usual Cure Disease and Cure Paralysis spells on her, but they'd had no effect. She'd even tried Dispel, in case it was a spell with a long duration, not that anyone knew of one that lasted that long. There had been a brief flicker of movement, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

They'd even carried her to the local shrine, in case that could cast a more powerful cure than the healer could manage. That had just got Anya more worried - you could tell it from her eyes - as the shrine was in the graveyard!

He was getting nowhere. He'd have to do what he'd been putting off, and try to talk with Kintyra.

She was snappy and unpleasant at first, but once she realized he was trying to help her mother, she softened considerably. Not enough to remove the permanent scowl, but sufficient to sustain a conversation, and get him permission to visit the older woman.

Anya was propped up in her bed, so she could see what was going on around her. They had dressed her in one of her favorite blue mage robes, with matching suede slippers. Her expression was an unchanging one of surprise, as if she hadn't been expecting whatever had afflicted her.

When he entered the room, her eyes met his, but then fell to her hands as if she'd not seen who she'd hoped. He noticed that she wore several rings, as most mages did. Often they'd provide defense, or increased magicka or health, without diminishing the caster's ability to use spells the way armor would.

He turned to ask Kintyra some details about the prior attempts to cure her, and when he turned back, she again looked him in the eyes, and then down at her hands. She was trying to tell him something, he was sure.

He moved to the bed and took Anya's hands in his own. She looked back at him, and he began to understand. She looked down at her left hand, in particular. She wore two rings on that hand, a gold one with an emerald set in it, and a plain ebony band. He held the hand up closer to her face, so she could look at the rings. Her eyes seemed to indicate the gold one. Her slipped it off her finger, and felt her other hand grasp his shoulder.

It was a few seconds before she could speak, as she'd been severely weakened by the the long period of paralysis. Her first words were "My own fault".

Then she wanted a loaf of crusty bread, so she could chew on something. They'd had to feed her liquids while she was held immobile by the spell, and what she wanted most was something solid. That kept her from telling the story for a while longer.

When the trolls had attacked, she had of course hit back with fireballs, with considerable success. However, her magicka reserves were soon running low. She'd drunk all the restore magicka and sorcery potions she carried, and needed more. She decided to swap her defensive ring of aegis with one that fortified magicka, and rummaged in her jewelry bag for it. Unfortunately, she had another ring that looked just like it, and in her haste, pulled out the wrong one.

The Ring of Imprisonment he'd just removed from her finger was like a portable jail. You could just sit a captive down in a chair, preferably one with arms, so he couldn't fall off sideways, and make him put on the ring. He'd be unable to move, or call out, until you took the ring off again.

Perhaps it had saved her life, as the trolls thought she was dead, and ignored her as she rolled off the trail. Perhaps not, as she could no longer participate in the battle. She didn't think that would go well without her firepower. It did leave her stuck in the ravine, until the dog found her.

She wanted to reward that dog, as she was sure they'd have buried her alive, if he hadn't stopped them. Kintyra told her mother that Ingvar, the dog's owner, had already decided that Troll-biter was worth breeding after all, and she doubted he'd get a better reward than that. Kintyra actually smiled when she said that, proving that her face could compete with her other charms. It didn't last.

Anya hadn't really known anyone in the caravan that was attacked, they were all just strangers travelling together for safety. But she still wanted to know if anyone else had survived. Kintyra wasn't sure. Something had made the patrol go looking for them, but she didn't know if a survivor had reached town, or if someone had an expected visitor overdue.

Then Anya was quizzing Kintyra about all the things that had happened while she was paralyzed. That touched a raw nerve when the Redguard's name came up. The black clouds came back across the sun in the daughter's face. As the two women talked, it became clear to him that Kintyra had turned her full attention to her stricken mother, as soon as she had been brought back to Falkreath. Her lover had probably felt cut off and unwanted, so it wasn't surprising that he'd looked elsewhere. But how was he going to explain that to her? She was in no mood to hear that sort of thing from a stranger.

But now that Anya had her faculties back, she was the one he needed to talk to. She sent her daughter back to tend the bar, telling her to lighten up, or she'd drive away the customers.

Eventually he managed to steer the conversation round to ancestry. Anya could trace back through her mother, and her grandmother, to Jorgard of Solitude, whose brother Jargrim had married Jolethe Septim, daughter of Magnus Septim, and sister of Pelagius III. That wasn't as close as he'd thought when he was sent here. They'd believed she was descended from the other brother, and Jolethe. Cephorus II had come from that line, and he'd had aunts and uncles and cousins whose descendents would be closer to the late Uriel VII than were Anya and Kintyra.

So now he could turn his attention to Kintyra's problem. He told Anya about his earlier conclusions, and she agreed with his reasoning. "She's a stubborn one, and doesn't like to ask anyone else for help. Probably comes from being an only child, and from her father."

Anya's late husband Darci had been very similar, in many ways. He was a Redguard, and they don't like to use magic, so he'd resisted her offers to enchant his armor, or teach him any useful spells. He had no problem with her using all the magical ways she wanted. That was her choice, not his, and he wouldn't interfere.

And it was part of why he loved her. They were complementary, rather than alike. Each had aspects that the other admired, but would never take for themselves. He could never persuade her to wear armor, or use a weapon. But he'd be there to protect her, and vice-versa.Together, there was nothing they couldn't achieve, but separated, they were incomplete. He would never ask for her help, but he wouldn't reject it either. And when they fought side by side, they covered each other's weaknesses.

He'd died in a fight with a will-o-the-wisp, that she could have easily killed with a couple of fireballs, if only she'd been there with him. But she was pregnant with Kintyra at the time, and stuck at home resting.

Her daughter had grown up without a father, because Anya had never found anyone who could replace Darci. She'd had a few lovers over the years, but none had quite measured up.

Kintyra had matured with an attitude of independence, and self-sufficiency, that let her have fun with the boys without getting too emotionally involved. She was attractive enough to have her pick of boyfriends, but didn't stay with any of them long enough to get bored with them. She didn't expect any kind of fidelity from them either. So why was this Redguard getting under her skin?

Anya suspected that Kintyra was getting broody. She wasn't pregnant yet; Anya could use detect life in more ways than the reporter knew about. But she'd probably decided that he was going to be the one, and he'd messed up her plans by leaving her. Kintyra wouldn't have told him of her intentions, it wasn't her way of doing things. And she'd most likely have dumped him if she didn't get what she wanted. "I probably taught her that" Anya admitted. "Kintyra never saw Darci and me together, so she has no idea what that was like."

"So it's my job to undo it. Let me work on her for a while. I can be quite needy, and take my time recovering, so that she won't go running after him, and trying to kill him."

The reporter was wondering why he still felt involved. He'd found out the information he'd been sent for, and Anya and Kintyra could be crossed off the Elder Council's list. But he still had a few days before Claudia was expecting him back at the cave, so it wouldn't hurt to spend them helping Kintyra and her mother. He rather suspected that Anya was hoping to kill two birds with one stone, and have Kintyra reward him for her cure, at the same time as he filled the void left by the Redguard.

That wasn't an unpleasant prospect. He'd seen what Kintyra could be when she smiled, and he wouldn't mind helping that happen again. He just had to make sure she didn't think "husband".

After talking to her mother, Kintyra's mood had changed from angry to sad, so he still had some work to do, but that was a much easier place to start from. He'd much rather have her cry on his shoulder than pound her fists on it.

And by the time he waved farewell to a laughing Kintyra and her mother, he felt well compensated for his time. Kintyra had insisted that her mother provide her own reward, and she'd been persuaded to enchant a couple of silver rings with Frost resistance. Now he wouldn't have to struggle to keep the furs in place when he met back up with Claudia.

---

Of course, slipping a ring on her finger, and sliding her panties off, had Claudia almost thinking "husband" for a while. "It's only my dedication to duty that saved you" she told him. Her bear snorted, as if it understood what she'd said. Maybe it did.

Claudia was naturally familiar with the sensation of Frost protection magic, so she'd realized what he was giving her. The rings did provide a freedom they hadn't had the last time. It no longer mattered when the furs fell off the bedroll, and they could see what they doing, instead of hiding inder the covers all the time. So it wasn't long before she remarked "Timo never does that."

"Then teach him," he replied. "The other Riders will thank you for it." It was time for him to tell her more about his own past, in particular his stay at Gweden, and all the things he'd learned there. And of course, show her a few of them.

"You did it with Daedra?" she exclaimed. Claudia had only encountered Scamps, Clannfear and Flame Atronachs, so her ideas were a bit far from reality. He had to explain that Dremora, Mazken and Aureals were just immortal people, not scary monsters. She was almost as big as they were, where it mattered. Silanu, on the other hand...

Now Claudia was feeling very ordinary and unexciting, and he had to convince her that she wasn't. She was a Mountain Rider, and her bear knew she was special, or she wouldn't be one. And she was unique, as the only Redguard Rider he knew of. Which reminded him, she had a duty to be different from the other Riders when she was with Timo. "Put some variety into his routine, and he'll respond in kind."

"We'll be returning to the Lodge tomorrow," he mused. "Will any of the other Riders be there?"

"Why, did you want to sample something different from the menu? I thought Gudrun had already shown you how Nords do it."

"No, I was just wondering if Timo had ever had two of you there at once. I presume Legion rules wouldn't let you share him with Gudrun, her being your commanding officer."

"And what if I was the one wanting two partners? Would you share me with Timo?"

"Why not? If you could keep the entire city watch happy...."

"Hey, it was just the Captains, and I never said it was more than one at a time."

"And here I was, thinking you were really special." he laughed.


-----

It doesn't play quite the same in the game. I put the trolls in a mine beneath the town, instead of out on the road to Whiterun, and the player has to go finish them off to get his reward. Not quite as much fun as cheering up Kintyra, but easier to script! You only get the one Ring of Frost Resistance, as Claudia's not being so cooperative either, and isn't waiting in the cave.

A cross-border tale of cleavage and lineage!

Ring of Imprisonment. Almost as bad as hungrily grabbing a poisoned apple from your pack by mistake!

’She wanted to reward that dog, as she was sure they'd have buried her alive, if he hadn't stopped them. Kintyra told her mother that Ingvar, the dog's owner, had already decided that Troll-biter was worth breeding after all, and she doubted he'd get a better reward than that. Kintyra actually smiled when she said that, proving that her face could compete with her other charms. It didn't last.’
This was sweet.

They'd even carried her to the local shrine, in case that could cast a more powerful cure than the healer could manage. That had just got Anya more worried - you could tell it from her eyes - as the shrine was in the graveyard!

That’s horrifying and hilarious at the same time. I love it! What a fun story.

This had me in hysterics!

The ring of imprisonment sounds like something I need IRL, ROFL !!

Love how the reporter has become the tutor to Claudia, ROFL !!

Awesome Write !!

@Acadian: I made a Ring of Imprisonment for the mod, (i.e enchanted one with Paralysis) and had the player put it on. It has no effect at all. Apparently paralyze "on Self" is ignored. So I have Anya take it back immediately she's back to normal. Her paralysis is totally scripted, and the ring doesn't actually do anything to her either. Poison apples do have an effect!

@Grits It's a pity I coulndn't include that detail in the mod. Although there are quite a few gravestones in between the tavern and the chapel.

@mALX: The shoe's going to be back on the other foot soon. And this one sets some of the scene....

This installment has the usual problem of having to be told second-hand to the reporter, and this case, by someone who's only partly involved. The Champion actually does make an appearance for the first time, but after most of the quest's events have already happened!


----

The Orcish Ambassador

On his next visit to the Red Dragon Club, the reporter was surprised to see yet another new woman in the uniform, but this time one he already knew. What was Sugar gra-Mazog doing here? Shurgak hadn't given any special greeting, so he took her down the corridor to find out.

When they found a vacant room, Sugar revealed that the Champion had sent her up from Gweden specifically to entertain the Orcish Ambassador. He'd already been in once, and she was expecting him to come back for more later that night. But not to worry, there was plenty of time for their session before he was due.

Somehow he'd never got round to sharing his bed with Sugar at Gweden, although all the others had visited, some more than once. She was nearly as big as the Daedra women, and more of it was muscle. The dress she wore at Gweden just exposed her ample cleavage, but the uniform she was wearing here didn't cover much at all, and he could see the strength in her arms and thighs. He'd heard stories about her clients needing endurance potions to keep up with her, so he was wondering what he'd let himself in for.

Perhaps she was saving her energy for the Ambassador, but she was taking it easy with him. "I don't often get clients who aren't Orcs," she explained "and they always seem to treat it as a contest. It's a nice change to do it slow and gentle, not fast and furious all the time."

And she had a special request. Prizna had told her about her first encounter with him. "Orcs don't do that," she told him, "and I'm not sure I'd want one to try." That made him curious. Did she...? "Oh yeah, I know it makes 'em real nervous, but no Orc would ever admit that! And then they find they like it, and let me do it again".

He wasn't feeling that adventurous, but while he indulged her, she told him more about the Ambassador. He'd come to Cyrodiil by ship, with his wife, who had a Breton name. Sugar was sure that was misleading, because all the Breton women she knew were really small, like Juliana and Meena. She just didn't see one being a wife to Gorthag. He was big, even for an Orc.

Milady had been kidnapped by bandits on the way here from Anvil, which is where their ship had docked. She didn't know much about the circumstances, but the Champion was out looking for her while the Ambassador was negotiating with the Council.

The strange thing about it was that Gorthag didn't seem to be worried about her at all. Sugar had her theories. "So maybe it's a marriage of convenience and he really doesn't like her, but you'd think he'd at least want to be certain she's not coming back. It was like he already knew what happened to her. And of course, he's not acting married when he comes in here."

When they emerged, they found Taminwe waiting to talk to Sugar. Gorthag wouldn't be coming to the club tonight. He was already on his way back to Orsinium. Lady Brienne, however, had been found, and would coming instead. Sugar looked puzzled. "You'll understand when she gets here," Tanimwe told her.

Lady Brienne was even smaller than most Breton women. Shorter, anyway. She sat quietly in a corner while the Champion spoke to Taminwe and Sugar. Then the Champion turned back to Lady Brienne. The reporter could hear her confess tearfully to being a prostitute at the Wayrest court, and not really the wife of the Ambassador. Queen Elysana had sent her with Gorthag and set up the fake kidnapping incident. They were trying to embarass the Elder Council into granting Orsinium official status as a full Province. Wayrest's existing treaties with Orsinium would be much more valuable if that happened. They wouldn't have been able to put that one past Uriel, but the Elder Council was a different matter.

Brienne had been expecting to get shipped back to Wayrest by the men she'd run off with, but they'd tied her up and imprisoned her in a cave. At first she thought they were just taking their kidnapping act seriously, in case anyone investigated. But they weren't following the same script she'd been given. There was no hint of a ransom being demanded from Wayrest or Orsinium. The men were treating her like the prostitute they knew she was, rather than pretending she was a valuable hostage. Or more like a slave, as they weren't giving her anything but food, in return for what they demanded from her.

The Champion showed her a note he'd taken from their leader. That made it clear she was disposable, and Elysana didn't want to see her again. She'd only received a small advance on what she'd been promised for this caper, and wasn't likely to ever see the rest. And she'd had to spend all that on her outfit, as she had to look the part of an Ambassador's wife. Queen Elysana had a reputation for being a devious back-stabber, but Brienne hadn't seen this coming.

Sugar wanted to know if she'd been sharing Gorthag's bed on the way down to Cyrodiil. Brienne nodded. "Then she gets my vote," said Sugar. Taminwe indicated that she had hers too. The Champion turned back to Brienne and offered her a job at the club, telling her that if Ocato concurred, she'd be doing a few extra things. She'd followed Elysana's orders well enough, and the Champion himself had been fooled by her act. They could use those skills here, if she was willing to join the right side.

She appeared to understand, and thanked them all for their generosity, smiling at last.

Sugar came over to the reporter. "Looks like I can go back to Gweden and my regulars now. Brienne can do Orc duty if the need arises. If she can handle Gorthag, she can cope with any of them."

"But before I do, I've got some spare time I wasn't expecting, and I haven't been in the city since the Champion got my axe back. I'd like to go visit a few of the places I knew when I was here last. Drink an ale or two in the old bars. Want to join me? We can come back here afterwards and finish what we started."

Courtly intrigue, plotting and doublecrossing - What fun!

The Red Dragon Club certainly opens new possible vistas into the assorted undercover goings on and political perversions within the courts of Tamriel! I hope the reporter will be able to walk and stand after his upcoming night. They say getting too much Sugar can be harmful to your health.

Somehow he'd never got round to sharing his bed with Sugar at Gweden, although all the others had visited, some more than once.

Hmm, perhaps he heard that sugar would rot his teeth?

How fun that the young reporter gets to go out on the town with Sugar. And it sounds like a date rather than an assignment!

@Acadian and Grits: Sugar only comes in the "too much" size. In this installment the reporter at least manages to share the burden.

This isn't part of the mod, just a variant re-telling of a standard quest the way it might have happened if Sugar got involved. It's also setup for the next ones.

-----

An Unexpected Orgy

The reporter for the Black Horse Courier was a bit apprehensive about taking Sugar for a night's drinking. Or rather, about what would happen afterward. She'd clearly been holding back earlier, and saving herself for Gorthag. She might not be so considerate after a few drinks. But he agreed anyway, and they set off for the Waterfront, taking in quite a few taverns along the way.

By the time they reached the Bloated Float, they were both walking carefully and leaning on each for support. Ormil, the patron of the place, was delighted to see Sugar again, and found them a table where everyone could see them. He asked the reporter if he was planning any drinking contests with her.

"Ormil won't ever let me forget about that Nord," Sugar told him. "He was trying to get me drunk, so he wouldn't have to pay me. He almost succeeded, but after we'd both had a few, and I mean a lot, I was finding it hard to stay in my low-cut blouse."

The reporter nodded, he'd first seen her threatening to burst out of it at Gweden, and wondered how she ever managed.

"Anyhow, when it did happen, it got the guy's full attention, and I was able to pour most of my tankard into his without him noticing. So I started doing it deliberately, and pretty soon he was doing all the drinking. When he passed out, Ormil helped me carry him down to a bunk."

Ormil carried on for her. "In the morning, I complained to him about how noisy his activities had been. We completely convinced him he'd had the night of his life, and just couldn't remember any of it. I threatened to charge him extra for his room because of disturbing the other guests!"

Ormil and Sugar both chuckled at the memory of the poor Nord's face when he heard that.

"What I didn't tell Sugar at the time is that the rest of us were all watching and laying bets. On how many drinks he could take, how many times she'd pop out, and whether she'd show us both at once."

"Oh, I could see that everyone was watching," replied Sugar. "I was too drunk to care, and anyhow it never hurts to show potential customers what's on offer. I don't remember if I did flash the pair, though."

Methredhel remembered. "When he fell off his chair, you leaned over the table to see where he'd gone. That's when it happened."

"Oh, right!" exclaimed Sugar, as it came back to her . "And when everyone cheered, I thought at first that you were just applauding my victory in the drinking contest."

Methredhel sighed "If only we'd all been in one of the taverns in the City. We all could have had a lot more fun."

The man she was with asked her what she meant. Methredhel told him that breasts are a great distraction for what she liked to do. She unbuttoned her tunic, took the man's hand and slipped it inside. Then she dangled his coin-purse in front of his face, having just picked his pocket while his attention was elsewhere. He grabbed for it (with his other hand), but she tossed to Ormil and told him to buy everyone a drink. "In the City, I could have kept it," she told him "but there's no thieving allowed on the Waterfront."

"So what did you just do?"

"Encourage you to be generous. There's a difference."

He looked a bit annoyed, but his hand stayed inside her tunic. He decided he liked the way things were going, and he wasn't getting a bad deal. When the drinks arrived, they came with with the remainder of his money, too. But now he wanted that hand back to hold his tankard. Methredhel let him swap. If she couldn't indulge in a bit of thievery, this had its appeal, too

She'd apparently struck the right mood for the crowd, for when their tankards were nearly empty, Adanrel unlaced her shirt, and asked who wanted to buy the next round. Much to her delight, she got two volunteers, and their hands were warm! They'd almost agreed to split paying for the drinks, when the other women objected. They all wanted to be the benefactor. That looked like fun!

Before it turned into a cat fight, Methredhel called for order. They'd make a proper contest of it. The women all lined up at the bar and took their tops off, so the men could bid on who'd be next. Methredhel and Sugar weren't really eligible for the contest, but they joined the line, too.

Methredhel announced the rules. "No illusion spells. No Feather. No...no spells at all. Hold your hands behind your backs, and breathe normally. The men will vote by show of hands. No not like that, just raise them in the air, cheeky!"

Sugar's were the largest, and her well-developed pectoral muscles pushed them out even further. But on her large frame, they just looked well-proportioned, and the others all had that. The more slender Bosmers' were the smallest, but they were all high and firm. The men's personal preferences were just as diverse, and that showed in the voting. And of course, some of the men knew in advance who they'd have to support, or face the consequences!

There wasn't a clear winner, so they had to think of something else.

Jair had a proposal. Since they were all equally wonderful, if the women would keep their tops off, the men would keep paying for the drinks. "We'll just pass the hat, and share it out equally."

Praxedes saw a problem with that. She was wearing a dress, and couldn't just take off the top half. She had it peeled down to her waist, but she needed to hold it up all the time. "And if I take it all off, I expect you to buy me dinner as well!" Armand was going to do that anyway, so he extended Jair's idea to paying for the food.

Ormil saw his opportunity, and quoted a reasonable price for all they could eat and drink for the rest of the evening. The men went into a quick huddle to count coins before agreeing.

Praxedes dropped her dress to great applause. Methredhel let her man take the rest of her things off, and the others were soon naked, too. Sugar, who could strip faster than any of them, being a professional, decided to take it further. She lifted the reporter out of his chair and began taking off his clothes, too.

- - -

The established couples, like Armand and Praxedes, left first. They'd just go back to their cabins and continue in private. A few newly-formed ones did the same thing, and Sugar and he were soon left among those who couldn't, or wouldn't, choose. Adanrel seemed to making up for lost time, and wanted everybody. Besides, she didn't want to interrupt Methredhel and her guy by going home too soon.

Minx was a Dunmer, and nobody expected her to limit herself to one. Selene, the Imperial, was more of a mystery. She seemed to be enjoying all the attention she was getting, but her mind was clearly on other things. He fulfilled her needs and went to round up Sugar.

A groan from the corner told him her partner was done, too. He paid Ormil for a cabin and took Sugar below deck to sleep it all off.

- - -

They were wakened by the gentle rocking of the ship, as if it were out at sea. When they tried the cabin door they found it locked, but Sugar had learned to pick a lock while she was living on the Waterfront, and soon had it opened.

The man outside the cabin drew a sword as they emerged. The reporter tried to persuade him not to use it, but it was Sugar's fist to the side of his head that did the trick. They tied the unconscious man up in the cabin and crept up to the tavern deck to find out what was going on. Minx, the Dunmer he'd "met" the night before, was there in a suit of leather armor, with lots of extra straps. She recognized him immediately, and as she'd rather liked their time together, she was reluctant to use the sword she'd drawn.

She made a half-hearted swing at him anyway. He easily blocked her attack with the sword he'd taken from the bandit below deck, and Sugar grabbed her from behind. They took her down and tied her up, too. Strangely, she seemed to enjoy that.

The bandit up at the wheel saw the two coming at him, armed with the weapons they'd taken, and just dived overboard to avoid a fight. He didn't like the odds. Sugar and the reporter went across the deck to the captain's cabin.

They were about to burst in, when moans of ecstasy, in what sounded like Selene's voice, stopped them. Unlike last night, she seemed to be fully engaged with her partner, whoever it was. They decided to let them finish.

A little while later, Selene's head appeared around the door, looking for Minx. She was obviously startled to see the two of them instead, but quickly figured out what had happened when she recognized the swords in their hands. "OK, I give up," she said. "Take me away."

She confessed to having planned to rob the ship, tavern, whatever it was. She was sure it must be making a good pot of gold with all the customers she saw frequenting it. But she'd changed her mind when she met Ormil. She liked him immediately, and she'd really hoped that he'd join his customers in last night's orgy. She wanted to get to know him better, but he'd been too busy serving everyone food and drink. So she'd cornered him in his cabin today, while the gang were searching the rest of the ship for valuables.

She apologized to Ormil for forcing herself on him, but he told her that she'd done him a great service. Sugar cracked up at that. It had certain sounded like "great service".

Ormil saw the joke, too, but he meant it. He'd been too focused on running his business, and wasn't making any time to enjoy himself. Or anyone else. She'd made him realize what he was missing.

And he admired anyone with her determination to get what she wanted. That was a good trait in a businesswoman. Clearly that wasn't all he liked about her. He'd completely forgive everything, including her part in the attempted robbery, if she'd just be prepared to negotiate next time. That should be soon, please.

"Where's Graman?" he asked. Graman gro-Marad was the Bloated Float's only crew-member. He was the bouncer, and cook's assistant, or whatever Ormil needed at the time. They went looking for him and found him locked in the storage room below deck. Ormil was relieved, as Graman was the only one who knew how to steer the ship back to the dock.

That reminded them about the bandit that had jumped overboard. Selene said that he was called Wrath, and named the first one they'd encountered as Lynch. They couldn't just leave Wrath in the bay to drown, so they went up on deck to see if he was still near the ship. He was, clinging to the rudder. Graman put down a rowboat so they could tow him back to the dock. They debated putting Lynch and Minx in the rowboat too, but decided to leave them where they were.

Back at the Waterfront, with the Bloated Float tied up at her moorings again, the Watch took Wrath, Lynch and Minx away for a few days in jail. They'd only pressed a charge of stealing, as that's all they'd actually managed, so they'd all be out pretty soon. Minx whispered to the reporter before they took her away that she'd like him to tie her up again, when she got out.

Ormil and Selene had a reward for them. Selene's sword, the Blackwater Blade, was a nicely enchanted longsword that the reporter might find useful. She didn't see herself using it any more. Ormil had a decent amount of cash for Sugar, too. Last night's fun had brought in a good profit, and it was all her "fault".

With Selene's help in the tavern, Ormil would have more time to spend on the important things in life. Like Selene. So if the Bloated Float wasn't open at all hours in future, they'd understand, wouldn't they?

Sugar and the reporter set off back towards the Red Dragon Club, bypassing the bars this time.

A no tee shirt contest! It seems like there was no need for the tavern’s bouncer at all since there was plenty of that without him. I’m glad to see the crooks were fully exposed, tied up and delivered justice.

Ode to the breast:
Orsimer Sugar is mighty fine,
while Dunmer are divine.
Imperials delight once undressed,
but Bosmer are best!

What a fun rendition of the Bloated Float quest!

My favorite title so far!

What a fun night at the Float! Lots of new friends. And maybe we’ll see more of that Minx in the future.

Loved this rendition of the Bloated Float quest !! Now when I do that quest I'll be listening for the moans and groans, ROFL !! Great Write !!

@All The gang that hi-jacked the Bloated Float never really struck me as the violent bandit types, or they wouldn't have bothered sailing the ship away to rob it. This revision lets me keep them alive, and maybe use Minx later in the story. And it sets up the following episode better that way, I needed the pair out of the Club for a while, but I also needed a distraction for Sugar.

---

Once again, there's not a lot of the mod in here, except that Uzgash is added to act as a quest-giver for the new Helm of Tiber Septim quest. She'll provide some build-up to the forthcoming sack of Orsinium, which I've estimated at around 4E10. There will also be pointers to the plotting of the Thalmor, who were probably behind the attempt to have Enilwen assassinate the Mane. Uzgash can report developments in High Rock, as well as anywhere else the Orc Adventurers have travelled.

---

Uzgash

When Sugar and the reporter arrived back at the Red Dragon Club, Taminwe was looking for both of them, with an important bit of news. Apparently Gortwog hadn't completely trusted Queen Elysana with her "wife" gambit, and had sent his own spy to keep an eye on what happened. "We got a note just after you went out last night, asking us to arrange a private channel with Orsinium."

"I suspect Gortwog had this planned for some time, and was just waiting for the right moment," she continued. "Your recent trip to Falkreath makes it possible for us to capitalize on this opportunity and get a direct line to Gortwog established."

She explained that now he had contacts in Falkreath, they could use that as a rendezvous point with an Orc agent. There was a bear trainer in the town that already traded with Orsinium, providing bears for patrols in the Wrothgarians. Gortwog could send couriers to her without raising any suspicion. If the couriers made other contacts while they were there, nobody would know.

"Will this become a regular trip?" he asked, thinking of Claudia, and Kintyra, and the possible complications of seeing them too often.

Taminwe was ahead of him there. "Yes, and I've already sent word to Gudrun about putting a rotation on the route to Sky's Edge, so you won't have a problem. Not until you have four or five problems, that is."

"And you'll be too busy in Falkreath. The courier will be an Orc Bear Rider, naturally. That's why I need Sugar to stay here a while, and give you some extra training." Sugar gave him a wicked grin. She was obviously anticipating having way more fun than he would.

- - -

He was fortunate that he liked the taste of blackberries and apples, with the number of Restore Fatigue / Fortify Endurance potions he had to drink over the next few days. The aftertaste of Monkshood wasn't quite as pleasant.

But before long, Sugar wasn't holding anything back and she found herself reaching for the potion bottle. She reluctantly pronounced him ready for duty, to his great relief.

- - -

When the reporter opened the door to the Riders' Lodge at Bruma, he was surprised to see the five Riders all there at once. He wasn't so surprised to see a contented smile on Timo's face.

Gudrun introduced them to him. "You already know Claudia, of course. This is Pala, the redhead is Svana, and Ystrel is the Dunmer. You'll be going with Unna on this trip, as her route is adjacent to Claudia's and she already knows the way to get there."

Unna had long blonde hair, and a patch over one eye that promised a story to break the ice. "When Claudia found out I was taking the first duty, she lent me this ring," she told him. "Did you remember to bring yours?"

OK, forget the need for ice-breaking. Claudia had told them already.

Gudrun sent them all back out to their patrols, right after the briefing. Unna and Claudia both had to travel to the Hermaeus Mora shrine, so he had one on either side of him all the way there. At the foot of the slope up to the shrine, Claudia turned back and mounted her bear, and left him to Unna to take the rest of the way.

Although it was dark, Unna didn't light a torch as they left the shrine. She just flipped up her eyepatch and carried on into the night. When she noticed he wasn't following, she came back for him. "Just put your hand here," she told him, "and try to keep up." He wasn't sure if she was walking slowly after that just to keep in contact, but they reached the cave without any problems.

He'd guessed that she'd been using Night-eye, but hadn't seen her cast a spell, or drink a potion. Unna explained about how she'd got it permanently from a Daedra's shock attack, and a botched attempt to heal her. She amazed him with yet another story about the Champion. He seemed to be involved in everything where these women were concerned.

Right now, Unna wanted him to get involved. He hoped Claudia hadn't been telling fishermen's tales about him, and he could actually meet her expectations. She certainly met his.

- - -

The next morning he took the short walk across the border to Falkreath. He didn't know how long he'd have to wait for the Orc agent to arrive, so he made no promises to Unna. She let him know when she'd be going back to the Lodge. Svana was the next for this duty, so it was possible he'd find her in the cave when he got back.

He went to find the bear-trainer, as she'd know whether the Orc was already in town. Meija was a tanned Nord, who wore even less than the Legion girls. She didn't need armor, she explained, as she was just training the bears, not riding a patrol. She needed sleeves, to protect her arns from being lashed by branches when the bear ran through the forest, and boots, for when she walked, but apart from that she could be naked. "The bears would prefer that, but the watch don't allow it."

Her compromise indicated that she put more weight on the bears' side of the argument. The lower half of her outfit was almost non-existent, and the top was guaranteed to keep her cool. She anticipated his question. "I have an amulet with Frost Resistance that's enough to make me immune from the cold," she told him. "Nords are half-way there from birth, so it doesn't take much."

He began to wonder if the woman was psychic with the next thing she said. "After you left last time, Kintyra took up with that Jokull, the trader. So she'll be glad to see you again, but not as much as you might have hoped." That let him off the hook there, but it also left him wondering if Meija had any motives of her own for telling him.

He asked if anyone had arrived from Orsinium, and Meija nodded. "She's with the bear now, getting to know him." Meija led him down the slope opposite the tavern to a snowy clearing.

Uzgash gra-Marghak dismounted and walked over to them. The pre-arranged handclasp let her know she had the right man, and left him with an appreciation for the strength of her grip.

He knew that Sugar was considered well-featured for an Orc, and this woman had everything she had and more. And yet her face was more to his human tastes than most. Very attractive, if you were the kind of person who liked tusks. She was built, and dressed, like a Bear Rider, too.

She tactfully separated them from Meija and the bear, and him led to where nobody could listen to their conversation.

It was an indication of the importance Gortwog placed on this mission that he'd sent one of his own daughters. He asked if she was using a pseudonym, but gra-Marghak was real. Her mother hadn't married Gortwog, as she already had everything a marriage would bring, and it left him free to make a political alliance if he needed to do so. He'd acknowledged all his children, and they had no less respect under their mother's name. As adults, they were expected to earn their own respect anyway. So she used her real name. One less lie to get caught in.

"I'll be riding real patrols in the Wrothgarians, too. Having a bear of my own will reassure my father of my safety, although he already respects my ability in a fight. I'll only need the one bear, of course. I'll need another reason for visiting Falkreath whenever I have information to pass on. That's where you come in."

She let the implications of that sink in for a moment before she continued. "We have to be known as an item. Which means we'll have to be quite indiscreet about it. You aren't the type who's easily embarrassed, I hope?"

No, but he'd have to explain why they didn't just build a cabin and stay here.

"Duty, of course. I have my patrol to attend to, and my personal wishes are subordinate to that. You have a job to go back to, don't you?"

Her bear had wandered over to them as they talked. It had clearly taken to her in the short time they'd been together, which was a good sign. He already trusted the bears' judgement when it came to women.

The bear turned its head towards the town. He looked in that direction and saw Meija's head appear above the rise. He pulled Uzgash closer to him and put his arms around her. This was as good a time to start putting on the show as any.

When Meija got closer, Uzgash turned so she could see her, repositioning the reporter's hands to make as clear a statement as possible. The expression on Meija's face indicated that she'd got the message. There was just a hint of jealousy showing, too. That was probably why she'd been so quick to tell him about Kintyra.

This time she just wanted to tell Uzgash that the assay on the gems she'd brought more than covered the cost of the bear, and she was free to take it back to Orsinium. Right away, if she wanted. Meija stomped off back towards the tavern.

"We might have to do something about that one," Uzgash said when she was gone. "We don't want her on the wrong side. And you can't be unfaithful to me, because then I'd have to kill you. This could be tricky."

"Sorry, but you're going to have to learn to share." he told her. "I can't do my job if you tie my hands that much."

"It's not your hands, it's your..."

"Stop being so literal. Anyway, it's only been my hands so far." He squeezed gently to reinforce the point.

She laughed. "And I'm only going to be faithful to you because I won't have any choice on patrol. It's just that everyone here thinks they know about Orcs and their sense of commitment and honor. They'd be the first to tell me if you slept with Meija. That's what makes them the perfect accomplices for our cover story."

"So you have to become the exception that won't turn homicidal if I wander a bit. Meija knows about Bear Riders, and every one of those that I've met has been practically a nymphomaniac. Won't she expect you to be that way too?" He reminded her that her actions so far had done nothing to contradict that picture.

"But then I'd have to show that by going with someone else. There's nobody here I'd want to do that with."

"Actually there's one other way. You can disarm Meija's threat by sharing me voluntarily."

"Share you with another woman? I haven't had proof yet that you can handle just me." She regretted using the word "handle" as soon as she said it, and squeezed back.

"No, you just need to tell her to keep me warm for you when you leave. Give her permission, whenever you're not around. Most likely I won't be around either, so it's not much of a concession. Let her know you're more Bear Rider in your morality than you are Orc, and everyone else will know before long. Besides, they already know about me and Kintyra."

"That was in the past, before you met me, so it doesn't count. But you're right, I'm going to have to share. The only problem I can see is having to put a damper on the men's expectations." He had to admit she had a lot to offer, and her outfit, like any Bear Rider's, put it all on show.

He told her about Sugar's party tricks, and her eyes widened. "An Orc male that brave is a rare find," she told him. "This Sugar has customers who let her do that?"

He told her how Sugar conned them into it. They often had an audience looking on at the Gweden Brothel, and an Orc can't show fear when other races are watching. The wine would bolster their courage, or recklessness, too. Not to mention that she was good at it, so they didn't just take the first opportunity to stop her. He pointed out that most men and mer weren't anything like brave enough to risk it, and if Uzgash had the right reputation....

He himself wouldn't have been that brave, if he hadn't known that others had survived to want a repeat. Uzgash looked at him with a new respect. "How do I develop this skill?" she asked him. He paled at the thought of trying to teach her. Fortunately he didn't have to, she just had to know how to talk about it as if she did. Even if Uzgash was intending to put on a public show, it didn't have to include that.

"I wasn't considering going that far" she admitted. "You can fondle me in public, but anything more is going to happen where we can be heard, but not seen." That would be a room at the tavern, of course. The walls were thick, but there were enough gaps between the logs to let the noise escape. And anyone on the floor below would have a good idea what was going on.

Uzgash wanted to know more about how she'd get her scary reputation established. That was where Meija was important. As long as she didn't have any hang-ups about doing it, he could let her know Uzgash liked doing it too. "You're devious," she told him. "I like that in a spy."

ROFL !! Uzgash Gra-Marghak hasn't even slept with him yet and is locking him down, ROFL !!

This ruse looks like it opens the reporter up to all kinds of issues, especially dealing with Uzgash wanting to run everything !! Great Write !!

This time she just wanted to tell Uzgash that the assay on the gems she'd brought more than covered the cost of the bear, and she was free to take it back to Orsinium. Right away, if she wanted. Meija stomped off back towards the tavern.

Perfect! The young reporter’s act of extreme bravery is hilarious. I love their intricate plan.

Our reporter is becoming quite skilled, now Sugar-certified as an Orcish consort.

Handy trick with Unna’s night eye – an accident, but not all bad. I wondered if she had perhaps had it poked out by the breast of another bear rider.

"I have an amulet with Frost Resistance that's enough to make me immune from the cold," she told him. "Nords are half-way there from birth, so it doesn't take much."
How lucky that the report has both eyes to enjoy the view!

I like Uzgash! Of course, I have a soft spot for Orsimer women. Poor reporter will have to make enough noise to fill the tavern at night. No Pelena potion of quietus for he and Uzgash!


Nit – ’He wasn't so surprised to see a contended smile on Timo's face.’
Did you mean contented?

@mALX: Uzgash is Gortwog's daughter, so she's used to running things her way.

@Grits: It's going to be a bumpy ride!

@Acadian: Unna really has an eyepatch to match her inspiration - the Rumple Minze girl - but her excuse is that a Khajiit healer didn't know she wasn't supposed to have that ability, and healed her too much.

- - -

Uzgash part II

That reminded Uzgash why she'd come here. The Orc adventurers that Gortwog had scouring Tamriel for treasure had reported finding less magical items recently. Someone else was apparently doing the same thing, and they weren't interested in the gold, or unenchanted items. Only the magical was disappearing.

They had their suspicions that the searchers were Altmer, as they'd found a few victims of the Ayleid traps, and Altmer seemed to be over-represented among them. Those that had fallen on their way out of the ruins had enchanted loot on their corpses, but little gold or other items.

One piece that Gortwog was sure they'd want was the Helm of Tiber Septim. He'd heard that the armor had been recovered from Sancre Tor, but no mention had been made of the Helm. That was supposed to have multiple enchantments, and would be a prime target for these Altmer dungeon-divers. If his own people couldn't retrieve it, Gortwog would prefer that it be reunited with the rest of Tiber's equipment, rather than fall into the wrong hands.

The reporter took note of the distrust of the Altmer here. He'd heard stories of plots and scisms among the people of the Summerset Isles, and this fit in with those all too well. Gortwog would naturally want to be seen as an ally, so facts would need to be checked, and the first would be the Helm. If it still remained at Sancre Tor, that lent credence to the whole story Uzgash had outlined.

He also got the impression that the alliance between Orsinium and Wayrest was strained, and Gortwog was looking for support elsewhere. The recent fiasco with the Ambassador's "wife" would not have helped

- - -

When he walked into the tavern with his arm around Uzgash the look of relief on Kintyra's face told him the whole story. He wished her every happiness with Jokull, and asked if the room was available. "There's only a single bed," she reminded him. She didn't charge him for the room, but she did let him pay for dinner. "I'll bring it over when it's ready," she told them.

Uzgash and the reporter found a bench in the corner. She leaned up against him and he put his arm around her shoulders. If anyone looked in their direction he squeezed her affectionately. When their food arrived they made a point of feeding each other, like the pair of lovebirds they wanted everyone to see. When Meija came in to eat, they beckoned her over to join them.

She sat down rather reluctantly on the seat opposite. Uzgash told her that she'd be leaving tomorrow, and she wanted her to take care of her partner while she was gone. Meija's expression was one of mixed shock and joy. "But you're an Orc." was all she could spit out.

"Yes, and now I'm a Bear Rider too. It wouldn't be honorable to make promises to him that I can't keep, so I don't expect any from him. All I can do is leave him with someone like me, so he'll still have the same tastes when I return." Uzgash was a genius, he thought. That was the perfect hook for this fish.

They'd concocted a story about how they met in Hammerfell, carefully contrived to be after his last visit here, but giving each enough time for their trip home. It established the idea that they'd have little opportunity to see each other, so they'd make the most of the time they had together, and that this was the convenient mid-point where they'd do so. Meija seemed to be buying it.

He'd arranged a day trip further into Skyrim that would have him return here tomorrow night, which would be his chance to work further on Meija. Then he'd be going back to Cyrodiil.

They bought her a drink when they left the bar to go their room, so she'd still be in there to listen to their performance. Kintyra would be behind the bar, and a few others could be expected to drop in during the evening.

He didn't have any potions with him but Uzgash wasn't as wild as he'd feared. That's not to say she was meek and mild either, and he didn't benefit from Sugar's training. She didn't seem to be faking her enjoyment either. He wondered if she could do it quietly when she wanted to, or if this was all spontaneous and involuntary. He was at liberty to express himself, too, of course, and that all added to the fun.

"Why did I tell Meija I'd be gone tomorrow?" She asked him afterward. "I want to do that again."

He told her he'd need weeks to recover before he could manage it, and she laughed. "Me too, but I can't tell you that. I have my Orcish reputation to think of."

- - -

He helped reinforce that the following day when he bought a few restoring potions from Dro'bari. Ashara, Dro'Bari's wife, was the source of most of the town gossip, and this would be common knowledge in a couple of hours at the most. He hoped Meija would understand the significance.

He headed north out of town and found the wayshrine he was looking for. It was both his excuse for remaining in Skyrim, and an aid in what he had to do next, which was planting the story with Meija. Dibella's Kiss to boost his persuasion skills, a charm spell when she was distracted, that should do it.

The only problem was that they'd been too successful last night. Meija was reluctant to use the room at the tavern, as she didn't want the whole town to hear her. The charm spell got her past that, but now he didn't have it for later, and he needed her to do that one thing, so he could associate it with Uzgash.

He need not have worried. She was on her knees as soon as he closed the door to the room, possibly because the charm spell hadn't completely worn off.. He told her she was even better at it than Uzgash, which wasn't a lie, after all. He hoped she was paying enough attention to what he said, and not just what she was doing. Her reaction was a great relief. "You let her do this? Brave man!"

From there on, he just let her take him wherever she wanted. She wasn't as strong as Uzgash, but she was just as supple and athletic, and had a good repertoir to try and impress him. He somehow managed to find the energy to keep her happy too.

- - -

He left early the following morning, so that he'd meet Unna as she left the cave, and wouldn't have to spend the night there. He knew she'd be disappointed, and he knew what he'd be missing, but he needed some rest. She was thinking more clearly than he was. "A day's walk to Bruma is going to be restful?" she asked. "Go rest in the cave for the day, we'll go back to the Lodge tomorrow."

"I need to make my patrol to Lipsand Tarn, but I'll be back late tonight, and we'll see how you feel then." she argued. He was too tired to reply, so he just did as she suggested.

She returned to find him weak and incoherent, in the grips of a fever. That's why he'd been feeling tired earlier, it was just the early symptoms of something he'd caught. She searched in all the barrels and crates around the cave, hoping to find some Mandrake Root, but there wasn't any. She'd given the last one she carried to Thor, her bear, after they'd fought that Necromancer.

He'd summoned a headless zombie, and it had given Thor the Collywobbles, even though it didn't put up much of a fight. She didn't know that at the time, the bear didn't show any sign of being sick until today. He'd sneezed a couple of times, and that's what drew her attention. Had he sneezed on the reporter, and passed it on to him?

She had to do something, but the nearest chapel was over the border in Falkreath, and she wasn't supposed to go there. Well, she could ask the guard at the border crossing for help, and see what he said.

She helped the reporter to his feet, made sure he was wearing his ring to keep out the chill, and half-dragged, half-carried him along the trail. The guard saw them coming and ran over to help. He put the reporter's other arm around his shoulder, and the two of them carried him to the chapel.

Martine Petit, the priestess, was up on the top of the tower when they entered. She heard the door open and close and came down to assist. The guard smiled as he watched her descend the ladder. She didn't always have underwear beneath her robe.

They took the reporter over to the altar and called the blessing of Arkay to heal him. The reporter sat on a pew, and gratefully waited while his strength, endurance and speed slowly returned. Unna asked if she could buy some Mandrake root in town. She wanted to keep a stock in Sky's Edge Cave in case this sort of thing happened again.

The guard didn't know about the cave. He'd not been over the border at all. He wasn't allowed to do that. Unna admitted that she shouldn't be here either, but you did what you had to when someone needed help. She described the location to him, and told him about the traders using it.

He'd seen Jokull going in that direction, and had accompanied him as far as the border a few times, But he'd stopped at the border hut, and Jokull had continued without him. "Pity you weren't with Jokull when that Ogre stole his amulet," said Unna, and recounted the tale Claudia had told her.

"It would be better if that route got a patrol," he agreed. "But it's on both sides of the border, so I can't do it, and I assume you can't either."

Martine suggested that they go talk to the Jarl about it. Maybe they could work out an agreement for a joint patrol. The guard's eyes lit up at that idea. It was obvious that the idea of a joint patrol with Unna was very appealling.

The reporter was feeling much better by this time, and he told Unna and the guard to go find the Mandrake root, and he'd talk to the Jarl. Diplomacy was his trade, and if the Jarl saw Unna, he'd know what the guard's true motivation was.

It didn't take much persuasion. Jarl Ulfric saw the benefits, especially if it also helped keep the Ogres away from the town. He'd authorize the Riders to come as far as Falkreath, if his men could use the trail to Sky's Edge Cave in return.

He met Unna again in the middle of town. Dro'Bari did have some Mandrake, and she'd bought his whole stock. Then she'd gone to meet the other guards at their barracks. "Did you talk with the Jarl already?" she asked.

As they walked back to the cave he told her what the Jarl had agreed to. He needed to get it ratified by the Elder Council, but he didn't see there being a problem. Gudrun probably had enough authority to permit her crossing into Skyrim, but they'd better make sure it was allowed for the Falkreath guard to cross the other way.

Unna had told the guards about her colleagues. They already knew about Bear Riders, with Meija in town. They appreciated the show of skin, but Meija was off-limits to them. She was a resident of the town, and they weren't supposed to have any conflicts of interest in dealing with the citizens. Unna, Pala, Svana, Claudia and Ystrel weren't citizens, so this had a lot of potential.

They didn't have to worry about making Sky's Edge Cave more comfortable, there was a private room at the barracks where a guest could spend the night. The cave would be too chilly for Imperials anyway, especially without any enchanted rings to help them.

Unna was working it all out. The rotation Gudrun had aready approved for the run to the cave would still work.The extra distance to Falkreath being so short, they wouldn't have to make any adjustments. There were five of them, and only three guards, so they wouldn't find themselves always with the same partner.

"So no favorites?" he asked, as they entered Sky's Edge Cave again.

"Only you," she replied.

"And why me?"

"Because you're here, now," was her reasonable response.

Nice reference/game tie in to Gortwog’s orc adventurers!

As much as I love orcs, I’d have second thoughts about the tusks too!

Woot! Joint patrols! Nice bit of cross-border diplomacy.

"Because you're here, now," was her reasonable response.’
This is so in keeping with the credo of the Bare Bear Riders!

Nit: ’She searched in all the barrels and crates arond the cave,’

*
This line was my favorite:



Loved the whole chapter, but this line had me rolling. I remember even in Elementary School the boys standing under the stairwell and looking up constantly, ROFL !!! Great Write !!

I love the references to Tamriel's political climate and developments with the Altmer.

She searched in all the barrels and crates arond the cave, hoping to find some Mandrake Root, but there wasn't any.

And isn’t that the way it goes when you’re looking for one specific thing?

Great idea for a cross-border patrol. Also, I really like the name Sky’s Edge Cave.

@Acadian: A lot of the things in my mods try to tie up the loose ends in the vanilla game, or at least connect them to new loose ends of my own. So the Orc Adventurers took me in some new directions, just like the Old All Things Alchemical, and Gweden itself.

@mALX: When I gave Martine the AI package to go up the tower and pray at her little shrine to Dibella, this crossed my mind and I knew it had to be in the story, because I couldn't do it in the game.

@Grits: That part was inspired by my current character's hunt for yarn for the Sheo shrine quest. There's alway some in one of the barrels around Water's Edge, except when it would be useful.

---

The reporter has met Uzgash gra-Marghak, daughter of Gortwog, in Falkreath. Now it's time to report back.

Uzgash Part III

The reporter arrived back at the Red Dragon Club, and Taminwe was there, waiting to debrief him in her usual way.

Uzgash had told him that the Orc adventurers, that Gortwog had sent out to scour the dungeons of Tamriel for treasure, were sending back less magical items recently. They'd also reported finding dead Altmer in the traps in the ruins, and it looked like someone else had copied Gortwog's idea. It appeared, however, that they were only interested in enchanted items, and were ignoring anything else.

She'd also passed on a rumor that Tiber Septim's Helm had been in Sancre Tor, with the rest of his armor. They'd heard that the Champion had retrieved everything else, but not the Helm. Those Altmer would be especially interested in that, as the legends said it had multiple enchantments. Gortwog didn't trust Altmer, and if his men couldn't find the Helm, he'd prefer that it be reunited with the rest of the armor.

Taminwe decided that she wouldn't just pass that all on to Ocato, but she'd tell the Champion, too. He'd probably be the one who'd go look for it, as he knew the layout of the place, and would have a reasonable idea where he hadn't looked before. And if he found the Helm, it would be a good sign that Gortwog was playing straight with them.

The Altmer, or some of them at least, were up to something. That plot against the Mane, that Enilwen had been caught up in, was another indication that there were problems brewing in the Summerset Isle. Ocato had reminded her that the Altmer are anything but united, and that this was probably a particular faction among them, although it wasn't yet clear which one.

"It could be the same bunch that's stirring up trouble in Valenwood. They haven't taken any direct action yet, but we're keeping an eye on them, just in case. They seem to be trying to act through proxies, rather than expose themselves to any retaliation, so they'll be a hard nut to crack!"

Taminwe wanted to know more about Uzgash herself. They hadn't expected that Gortwog would send his own daughter. That must indicate that he doesn't trust anyone else, which might mean that relationships between High Rock and Orsinium were breaking down. The failure of Queen Elysana's ploy with the Ambassador's "wife" would only have made things worse.

Since Taminwe was a lot more fun when she was just a bit jealous, he painted a glowing picture of Uzgash for her. Not that he had to embellish it at all, as she'd inherited a lot of admirable qualities from both her parents. He'd experienced a little of her skills at intrigue and diplomacy that she'd got from her father, and quite a bit more of those abilities she got from her mother, and they were germane to their current .. er ... intercourse?

Taminwe was quite aware that he was attempting to manipulate her. She'd been training him to do that, and reaping the benefits of his progress. And awareness didn't confer immunity, so he was getting what he wanted, too.

She found his description of their performance for the listeners in the tavern rather amusing. She'd always prided herself on her ability to stay silent under extreme conditions. The thought of deliberately doing the complete opposite was a great novelty.

She was careful not to tell him that, or he might have considered it a challenge. With the training he'd got from Sugar, and now Uzgash too, she wasn't so confident of having the upper hand.

Now she was more concerned with getting a good profile of Uzgash gra-Margak, as they'd be dealing with her on important matters in future. The fact that she used her real name, and preferred to use selected truth rather than lies, was a good sign. As long as they knew which way her interests lay, they could probably trust any information she provided. She might not tell them all she knew, but if his training paid off, the reporter would get more than she wanted to reveal.

As he'd only spent a day and a night with her, she wasn't expecting a lot of detail, and he'd impressed her considerably with the amount he had discerned in that brief time. Of course, it had been a rather close encounter, aided by Usgash's need to win him over to her side. He was probably exagerating a bit to try and make her react, but it was all based in reality from which she could draw a valid conclusion.

He interrupted her thoughts with the same idea she'd just reached. "Gortwog didn't send Uzgash just because she was the best woman for the job. He has another purpose in mind."

She concurred. Her conclusion was that Gortwog was dispersing his children to make them less vulnerable. Uriel's sons had been slain together in the Palace, and Gortwog would have learned from that. But a solo patrol in the Wrothgarians wasn't any safer for Uzgash, so that wouldn't be the end of the story. Establishing contacts for her in Cyrodiil was part of it, but they'd have to wait and see what developed.

"How many children does Gortwog have?" he asked.

"Officially none. He's still an eligible bachelor, if politics requires an alliance." Taminwe replied. "But we know he has seven with Marghak, four sons and three daughters. Uzgash is the middle one. We have no reason to believe there are any other consorts or offspring, but can't rule it out. That's probably the way he wants it."

"And what do we know of the other six?"

"The eldest son commands an army based as far from Orsinium as you can get, within his province. Another is ambassador to Elsweyr. The others have no specific duties, or locations, and have been reported all over Tamriel. Cyrodiil's representative at Gortwog's court has not seen more than one in the Iron Fortress at any time. That's making more sense now."

Taminwe continued "I'm assuming that Plan A was to have you fall for Uzgash, and become her protector. She does appear to have made a good first impression, doesn't she?"

"But they won't have counted on that, would they?" he responded. "They didn't know who we'd send to Falkreath, and it could just as easily have been a woman. And frankly, I don't consider myself the protector type."

"They knew that we knew why Falkreath was chosen, and that we'd expect a Bear Rider as their contact. That made you, or someone like you, the most likely candidate, and their plans would include that detail. I don't see their Plan B being much different, either. You are willing to work with her again, and both sides know that. It's not you personally that they want as a protector for her, it's the service you work for, all of us. We just wait for their next move, and see what direction it takes."

"And in the meantime, she's on the move, with a bear to look after her."

"Yes, she should be safe enough for now." Taminwe agreed. "But I'd be a lot happier if we knew where the threat was coming from. This Altmer faction appears to prefer acting indirectly, so she's probably in more danger from the Bretons and Redguards. For all we know, the bandits on the roads might be their agents."

"I can't see bandits being any worry to her," the reporter replied. "The Frost Shield on her outfit must make her nearly invulnerable to their weapons. She's got the strength to make good use of her battleaxe, too."

"Still, I don't see Gortwog having her make a predictable patrol for too long. It would keep her out of touch with her intelligence sources for longer that he'd like, as well as making her easy to locate. Expect to see her at Falkreath again, before much time elapses."

That reminded the reporter to mention his negotiations with the Jarl of Falkreath over joint patrols. He'd like Taminwe to bring it up with Ocato, when he next visited.

She chuckled. "I think he'll agree to that without my persuasion. It can only enhance border security, and a local agreement is all it really needs. The prospect of increased trade with a safe route isn't a bad thing, either"

Taking of trade routes reminded her that a ship had arrived in Anvil from the Summerset Isle, the filrst since the Oblivion crisis had ended. Newheim the Portly, as harbormaster, had to report the comings and goings of all vessels in Anvil. The Black Horse Courier would want a report on events from the Altmer province, and since none of the Imperial agents had returned on the vessel, so would Ocato.

*



Ha! We had one teacher that the boys couldn't tell if she wasn't wearing underwear or had a nest of flies buzzing, but made up numerous stories about what could be hiding under that skirt which were made much more interesting by the fact that she walked with an odd limp. I learned all this eavesdropping, of course.



This is so intriguing! I love the genius behind the proxy attacks, what a cool quest that would/will be!

Awesome Chapter !!


*

’And awareness didn't confer immunity, so he was getting what he wanted, too.’
This struck me as a wonderful line.

Wonderful in depth speculation by Taminwe as she ‘interviews’ the reporter. And Wow! She has the discipline and self-control not to need a Pelena silent passion potion.

Plenty of political intrigue going on, it would seem.

A couple tiny typos:
- ‘And if he found the Helm, it would be a good sign that Gortwog was playing straight with tem.’
- ‘SInce Taminwe was a lot more fun when she was just a bit jealous,’

Uzgash inspired me to create my first two orc adventurer characters in Oblivion: Burzul (she died) and now Bezel gra-Grubsakh (still going). Sadly their vanilla world has a shortage of young reporters.


Good thing Taminwe knows some expert nutcrackers.


Love it!

@Grits: Good thing Taminwe knows some expert nutcrackers
You weren't thinking of Sugar, were you?

@Acadian: Nits picked, on with the politics.

We left our reporter on his way to Anvil to try and meet the first ship to arrive from the Summerset Isle since the Oblivion gates started to appear.

-----

Lathenil of Sunhold - part I

Taminwe had told the reporter that when the Oblivion Crisis started, the seas around the Summerset Isle had seen their worst storms for centuries. Sailors who turned back to the mainland to avoid them reported seeing wreckage floating on the ocean from the vessels that had been caught up when they started. The storms had ended when the Avatar of Akatosh sent Dagon back to the deadlands, but it seemed there were no sea-worthy vessels left to cross the Abacean Sea from the ports of the Summerset Isle.

The ship that had berthed in Anvil had started its voyage in Hammerfell, probably from Hegathe or Gilane. It was likely moving on to Valenwood and Elsweyr, and they might see it again at Leyawiin. If the crew were still in Anvil, he was to ask them what they knew of the conditions in the port cities of the Summerset Isles. Any news from Hammerfell would not be unwelcome, either.

---

The reporter had just walked onto the docks at Anvil, when he was accosted by a robed Altmer, with a deep tan and an angry expression.

"You there, have you seen Rynandor?"

"Who's Rynandor?"

"Like me, he's a Master Wizard, not the sort of person you just don't notice. But everyone here denies having seen him! Why are they all lying?"

"Perhaps he's just not here?"

"How could he not be here? He was on the ship before mine. I'd have been on the same vessel if I hadn't just missed it at the port. When they sentenced him to exile I was determined to accompany him, but I didn't account for their haste."

"Yours was the only ship that's come here from the Summerset Isle. Apparently Rynandor's didn't arrive yet. Was it sailing directly here?"

"Yes, that was the sole purpose of the voyage, to take Rynandor into exile. Why would they go anywhere else? Those accursed Thalmor must have done something to prevent it getting here. They're behind all of this!"

"Who are these Thalmor? I've not heard that name before."

"The Thalmor are one of the syndicates of wizards in the Summerset Isle. They're clearly trying to seize control of the province. They claimed to have defeated the force of invading Daedra that toppled the Crystal Tower, and they've got most of the people believing them. More likely they brought it down themselves, just so they could destroy their opposition among the other mages."

"The Crystal Tower has fallen?"

"Yes, the Tower of Crystal-Like-Law, and the University it housed, with its library and laboratories, all gone! And no sooner had the Tower fallen, than the Daedra all disappeared. The Thalmor claimed responsibility for the latter. If they had that power, why didn't they use before the Crystal Tower was lost? Because it didn't suit their plans! And if they could dismiss the Daedra like that, what's to say they didn't summon them in the first place?"

"The Mythic Dawn did that. And the Daedra were banished when Martin Septim defeated Mehrunes Dagon in the Imperial City. Presumably from all of Tamriel." The reporter recounted what he knew of the Mythic Dawn.

"So the Thalmor were in league with these Mythic Dawn people? Was Mankor Camoran an Altmer? Not that it would have mattered. The Thalmor will deal with anyone to further their ends. And then stab them in the back when they have no more use for them!"

The reporter continued his conversation with the agitated wizard for a few more minutes, trying to calm him down enough that his rantings would make sense. He considered using a Calm spell, but he knew that he didn't have the skill to do so without it being noticed.

He found out that the Altmer's name was Lathenil of Sunhold, and that he'd been among the defenders of the Crystal Tower. He guessed that the stresses of that battle had rather unhinged the wizard.

The Daedra had opened a Great Gate just outside their defences, just as they'd done at Kvatch, and Bruma. The Siege Crawler had emerged and attacked the Tower, which toppled quickly, as if it had been held up by magical forces that had been dispelled. Fortunately, most of the defenders had evacuated before the collapse, but the contents of the library and laboratories had been lost.

Lathenil blamed all the misfortunes of his people on the Thalmor. He denied that they had the power to defeat the Daedra, yet attributed them equal power to afflict their own kin. The reporter had little idea what was fact, and what was exaggeration, and what was just plain supposition on Lathenil's part. He was clearly not a neutral observer, but just where his loyalties lay was unclear, other than his opposition to the Thalmor. He tried to get Lathenil to make statements that other agents could verify, but most of it was just a stream of accusations of Thalmor duplicity.

The conversation was interrupted when Lathenil glanced over the reporter's shoulder, and swore in Aldmeris. (At least it sounded like he was swearing, the reporter didn't know the language that well.) The wizard's glance was swiftly followed by a fireball, but when the reporter turned to follow it, he saw no-one.

That changed when the fireball struck someone. An outline of flame appeared where nobody had been standing a moment before, and a man's voice expressed considerable discomfort. As the flames died out, a slight shimmering in the air replaced them. Whoever was there was using a chameleon spell or equipment, and presumably still a threat. Now that his attention had been drawn to the invisible adversary, he could detect the distorted outline of a Bosmer (he was too short to be anything else).

The reporter backed away, not letting his eyes leave the Bosmer, or he'd have never found him again. He heard the angry shout of an Anvil Guard, as he ran to intervene, and saw another fireball strike. This time, its target fell, and the chameleon dissipated.

The guard bent and examined the body. The Bosmer was holding a silver dagger, enchanted with Drain Magicka, clearly a weapon for use on a mage. He'd approached under chameleon, too, and had he struck first, Lathenil would have found it difficult to respond. That didn't matter to the guard. Lathenil had attacked first, so he was under arrest. He could argue his case later, in a court, but not now.

The reporter advised Lathenil not to resist. There were other guards running towards them, and the odds were not in his favor. Remarkably, the wizard was rational enough to agree.

The reporter found a note on the Bosmer's corpse that confirmed that he'd been hired to kill Lathenil. Naturally, it gave no clue who'd sent him. The Altmer may be deranged and paranoid, but he did at least have some justification for it.

He decided that he needed to know more, so he'd go pay Lathenil a visit in jail. But fIrst he'd ask around the docks for any other news from the ship.

As he expected, the ship Lathenil arrived on had already sailed on for Valenwood. There were no other passengers, and all the goods they'd unloaded had come from Hammerfell. Nobody had any information on the missing vessel with Rynandor. There was nothing to say he wasn't an invention of Lathenil's.

---

Lathenil was a lot less agitated behind bars, and talked quite rationally to the reporter about what he knew. He admitted feeling a lot safer in the jail, although he wished the guards had let him keep his ring of life detection. The reporter suggested that he ask the jailor to wear it, just in case, and that idea seemed to cheer Lathenil considerably.

The reporter had shown the Bosmer's dagger, and the note that he found, to the magistrate, and got Lathenil's sentence reduced. That got Lathenil worried again, as he'd be back in danger when he was released. He needed somewhere to hide from the Thalmor.

Perhaps it was the earlier mention of the Mythic Dawn that put the idea into his head, but the reporter saw a similarity with Silanu's case. Gweden farm was a perfect place for her to take cover, and maybe it would be just as good for the Altmer. The fact that he wouldn't mind visiting there if he needed to question Lathenil again had nothing to do with it.

He mentioned Silanu, and he could tell that Lathenil was intrigued by the idea. Perhaps a taste of her discipline would do him some good, too.

His time with the prisoner was up, and he left the Castle. He skirted the town wall and joined the road up to the farm. He'd better let Tsarrina know that she had a guest arriving shortly. He had no doubt that Lathenil would pay handsomely for the protection (and other services), but it was just the courteous thing to do.

The Breton girl he met just outside the farm wasn't one he knew, but she came right up to him and kissed him as soon as she saw him.

That was the last thing he remembered.

---

Lathenil is the author of Rising Threat - a book series in Skyrim. The events in it start at the fall of the Crystal Tower, so they're just the right period for this. The quest in the mod follows the events here quite closely, but will diverge as the reporter is not the player character.

It is so neat to see what I’ve read as history in Skyrim happening in the time after the Oblivion crisis! I’m really enjoying this, ghastley.

The Breton girl he met just outside the farm wasn't one he knew, but she came right up to him and kissed him as soon as she saw him.

Uh oh…

He considered using a Calm spell, but he knew that he didn't have the skill to do so without it being noticed.
I love this acknowledgement of what only a master of illusion can do!

Paranoia. . . but seemingly justified. That is one scared wizard to almost prefer the safety of jail. I wonder if that Bosmeri assassin was DB or simply hired by the Thalmor? More intrigue, regardless.

Here’s a few more tiny typos:
-"So the Thamor were in league with these Mythic Dawn people?”
-‘He'd approached undcer chameleon, too,’
-‘He decided that he needed to know more, so he'd go pay a Lathenil a visit in jail.’
-‘He had no doubt that Lathenil would pay hansomely for the protection’

WOO HOO !!! Toppling the Crystal Tower - I love that !!! This whole paragraph is absolutely perfect - love the whole thought behind that, ROFL !!!





GAAAAH !!! What happened?

Awesome Write !!!!!

@Grits: When I went researching for things that should be starting to stir around 4E1, I discovered that the Thalmor had begun the moment the crisis ended, by claiming responsibility for the Daedra's defeat. And that was chronicled in Rising Threat, whose author conveniently followed Rynandor to Anvil. The rest is history...

@Acadian: Typos always seem to happen between the cut from Wordpad, and the paste and cleanup here. I edited this one, so ther are probably more.

The unused Calm spell was intended to do two things at once: reinforce the fact that the reporter knows one, and his belief that Lathenil really was the level of mage he claimed.

@mALX: I didn't write the loss of the Crystal Tower, Lathenil's ghost-writer at Bethesda did that. But it is a nicely dramatic feature for his tale.

----

Lathenil of Sunhold - part II

The reporter woke with a pounding in his head, on the bed inside the farmhouse. Freija was standing over him with a worried look on her face.

When his eyes could focus properly, he saw that most of the others were standing in a circle around the bed, looking on anxiously. The door opened and the Legion Patrolman came in.

"She's dead" he told them. "We'd have preferred to interrogate her, but she wasn't to be taken alive. And if we let her summon another of those Clannfears, we'd have taken a lot more damage."

Nelrene followed him into the room, dressed in a fetching set of dark armor that she filled very nicely. The reporter hadn't seen her wearing that before. He wondered if that was her guard's uniform from the Shivering Isles. She cast a healing spell on herself as she put away her mace.

"Who was she?" the reporter asked, but nobody knew. Just some crazy witch who wanted to kill him, and nearly had.

He tried to get out of the bed, but a sharp pain in his leg stopped him.

"Wait until I've taken that arrow out" Freija advised him. The Patrolman looked a little embarassed when she mentioned the arrow, and ducked back outside. Freija beckoned Prizna and Nelrene, the largest of the women, over to help her. Although being held down by those two was quite a pleasure, the reporter still passed out again when Freija pulled the arrow out.

---

"He's awake!" Meena called out cheerfully, and Freija came back in to see how he was doing. This time his head didn't hurt, and his leg didn't either.

Freija explained what she knew about the attack. She'd been passing between the farm and the Lodge when she saw the reporter approach, and started to walk towards him. The stranger had appeared from nowhere, and kissed him, and he'd fallen over paralyzed. Then she'd summoned a Clannfear to finish him off.

Freija had cast her bound claymore and armor and run to intercept the Clannfear before it could reach him. The patrolman had come out of the farm, with Nelrene close behind, and they'd gone after the witch. When the Clannfear switched its attention to Nelrene, in defense of its mistress, Freija had picked him up and carried him inside.

She didn't know when the arrow thing happened. It was all too quick, and there were spells and arrows flying everywhere for a time. She'd seen the witch afterwards, and there were a lot more arrows in her. And another thing crossed her mind. "Why did you let her kiss you like that? I've never seen anyone uglier."

The reporter assumed that she'd used an Illusion spell to make her look young and pretty. Clearly she'd known some powerful magic, if she could summon Clannfears. And he'd heard about people who could paralyze with a kiss. Had something to do with their birthsign, if he remembered correctly. Freija didn't think that it was just the Lover's power. His health had been damaged at the same time. More likely the Cobra's Dance.

Lathenil had warned him that the Thalmor might go after him too, but he didn't think it would have been that quickly. Still, if they'd had a second assassin ready for Lathenil, it wouldn't have been hard to divert her to a new target. His story was looking more plausible all the time. These Thalmor probably were a significant threat if you weren't on their side.

When he spoke with Tsarrina about Lathenil, she didn't seem to be worried. Another customer was always welcome, and the threat from the assassins might be over, anyway. "We have an immortal Arena Champion, a Mazken guard, and a bear hunter here to look after us. Not to mention Maeva has Rockshatter back, and Sugar's handy with her axe. We'll do all right"

Tsarrina was forgetting Prizna, he reminded himself. She may walk around naked, and appear vulnerable because of that, but she hurls a mean shock spell when she wants to. Not only that, but Lathenil was intending to travel here under invisibility. The Thalmor would probably never know he was here.

---

The reporter was attacked again between Anvil and Skingrad. He couldn't be sure if it was just a highwayman, or another assassin. This man wore heavy armor, which was unusual if he was a Bandit, but he swung an axe, which didn't fit the Marauder norm either. At least he saw him coming, and he'd just passed a Legion Patrol. He ran back up the road and alerted him, and together they subdued the Redguard.

There might have been another nearer the city. He passed an archer fleeing across the meadows from a Minotaur, firing arrows as she ran. He left them to their fun, and hurried on up the road, hoping he hadn't been noticed.

---

Taminwe had heard of the Thalmor. She described them as an insignificant faction that was fanatically racist. They wanted to send all foreigners back where they came from, and dreamed of recreating the civilisation of the Ayleids. She felt that their views were far too extreme to have any traction with the rest of the people, and they probably weren't a serious threat to the Empire. But they'd still be a threat to any weaker group that opposed them, if general order broke down. The Daedric invasion had probably given them a chance to assert themselves more than usual, and they'd bear watching.

She'd heard of Rynandor the Bold, too. Another minor faction leader, but one with a practical and honest demeanor that meant he'd never amount to anything in politics. If Lathenil was in his group, at least they weren't anti-Empire, like many of the others. He was probably harmless, although she'd have preferred that he hadn't brought the Summerset Isle's squabbles to the mainland.

He didn't understand why he'd become the new target of the assassins. Taminwe had a theory. It was because he was a reporter. Lathenil's was a lone voice, and his tale of Rynandor's probable demise would likely go unheeded. An article in the Black Horse Courier would be seen everywhere, even in the Summerset Isle, and the Thalmor would presumably not like that.

Ocato had connections with the bureaucracy in the Summerset Isle that would give them some more information on Rynandor. Any banishment or exile had to be communicated through diplomatic channels. The other provinces didn't like criminals being dumped on them without notice, after all. Since Rynandor's trial had been public, the Thalmor could not have suppressed that notification without arousing suspicion. They might have intercepted his ship on the high seas, of course. She reminded him to be on the lookout for reports of piracy in the Abacean.

"If it weren't for those assassins chasing you, I'd have asked that you go to Leyawiin and Senchal, and see if the ship that brought Lathenil puts in at either of those ports. Now I think it would be better if someone else does that. I may even go there myself." Taminwe told him. "The Black Horse Courier won't print anything until we have a full picture of this, and then not if it puts you in more danger. You should take another trip to Falkreath, and see what Uzgash has for you this time. See if she knows anything about Lathenil, Rynandor or the Thalmor."

Were you trying for this: “I used to be an adventurer like you. Then I took an arrow to the knee and now I’m a reporter.”

I loved the debate over Lover’s Kiss and Cobra’s Dance.

’Another minor faction leader, but one with a practical and honest demeanor that meant he'd never amount to anything in politics.’

So Taminwe’s putting our reporter on ice for awhile by sending him back to Skyrim. Probably safer for him. I can imagine what Uzgash has for him.

Ah, I never played Elder Scrolls before Oblivion, didn't know the tower got toppled!

I had originally suspected the birthsign kiss too, but didn't suspect the illusion to look beautiful - nice touch !! You nailed the description of Thalmor politic and beliefs! Awesome write!

"Wait until I've taken that arrow out" Freija advised him. The Patrolman looked a little embarassed when she mentioned the arrow, and ducked back outside.

Oops.

The reporter was attacked again between Anvil and Skingrad. He couldn't be sure if it was just a highwayman, or another assassin. This man wore heavy armor, which was unusual if he was a Bandit, but he swung an axe, which didn't fit the Marauder norm either.

I like this. Running back to the Legion Patrolman is a familiar tactic, and the combination of weapons and armor are great clues that this is not the usual bad guy. I really enjoyed Lathenil’s story.

@Acadian: Glad you liked that bit. The reporter suspects the Lover's Kiss from the way it was delivered. Freija is a bit more realistic.

@mALX: It's getting hard to write about the Thalmor without making too obvious what's really going on. The Imperial side has to discount most of the facts or they'd have been prepared. Lathenil being the only one to point at them in particular, and his being a bit paranoid, should keep it down.

@Grits: I had to give the Legion a chance to make amends.

-----

Uzgash - Part IV

When the reporter arrived at the Falkreath Tavern, he found that Kintyra had made a few alterations to the room he rented. The bed had been replaced with a larger one, and when he flopped onto it, he noted that the frame didn't creak like the old one. There was a new, rich, tapestry hanging on the wall closest to the bar. He peeked behind it, and found that someone had stuffed wool into the gaps between the logs. There was a thicker rug on the floor, too. Uzgash would get a good laugh out of all this new sound-proofing, he thought.

He'd arrived before her, this time, and Meija was out of town fetching a new bear to train. He'd travelled here with Svana and her bear, but she'd already left to continue her patrol. That meant a night alone, and he could get some rest for once.

He stowed his gear in the chest in the corner, and went back down to the bar for a drink and a meal. Ingvar had killed a boar in the forest; it was roasting on the spit, and nearly ready to carve, if that delicious aroma was anything to judge by. Svana and the reporter had been joined on his trip here by Jokull, back from one of his many trading trips, and perhaps that was the cause for tonight's feast. Kintryra got Jokull to carve thick slices off the boar, while she stirred a pot simmering next to the fire.

The reporter's plate arrived just as Uzgash slipped into the seat next to him. Kintyra set another plate in front of her, and she breathed in the unfamiliar tang of the sauce. "Oranges!" Kintyra beamed. "Jokull just brought some back from the South, and I've been dying to try this recipe."

---

Everyone affirmed the success of the sauce, by taking a second helping of everything. Uzgash leaned against him and pronounced herself too well-stuffed to move. Loudly enough to announce that there wouldn't be a repeat of their last visit's performance, in case anyone was wondering, and to let Kintyra know that her cookery was appreciated.

For public consumption, it was just as effective to cuddle in the corner over a slowly-sipped glass of wine. And then to walk slowly to their room with his arm around her waist, chatting inconsequentially.

When Uzgash saw the changes Kintyra had made to the room, she laughed so much it almost hurt. But she stopped suddenly, and turned to him with a sheepish look on her face. "I guess I owe you a bit of an explanation" she said.

"You probably noticed my lack of inexperience last time. Especially with your training." she went on. "I've been studying the report on you from our agents in Cyrodiil, so I know a bit more now. I shouldn't have let myself get so carried away, with someone who knows the professional tricks."

"Those reports should have convinced you that we were both sent here for the same reason," he argued. "I don't think anyone was being decieved, certainly not me. When you mentioned your mother, I was already expecting that you'd learned from her, and delighted that you had. Expert-level stuff, too!"

"And what did your intelligence reports say about me?" she asked. "Did they tell you that my mother had let me work in her Guild, and earn the price of my first armor that way? She said it would help me think of myself as an ordinary Orc, not a princess. I realise now that it's also good training for a spy."

He admitted that his own reports on her were now the most complete, and they didn't have much other detail. How much more did she want him to know?

She decided to tell him what else her mother had taught her. Spells to keep her free from disease and "other complications" that any Guild member needed. As well as a few special ones, nasty painful ones for dealing with abusive customers without actually being fatal. The reporter was glad she was just telling him about those, and not demonstrating anything.

"I was going to use that armor I'd earned to go dungeon-diving for better equipment, but that was more my older sister's style than mine. She'd been the only girl for a while, and she was used to playing rough with my brothers. As the second daughter, I got to do more girly things, and I developed a taste for pretty clothes. You don't find those in dungeons, so I stuck to earning them the way I liked best."

"So what have you been doing since we were here last?" he asked her.

"Patrolling on my bear," she replied. "Fighting a few ogres, and wolves, and bandits. Oh, and a Spriggan. And getting more and more impatient for a chance to come here!"

He reminded her of the heavy meal they'd just eaten, and protested that he was in no condition for a repeat of their last encounter. She wasn't either, but she felt he owed her some of the seduction and foreplay that they'd skipped last time. And that had been a bit extreme for her tastes, too. It was what the occasion called for, and she'd enjoyed it at least as much as he had, but she'd be perfectly content at a more sustainable level. He knew just what she meant.

---

Later, it was her turn to ask him about recent events, and he told her about his visit to Anvil, and Lathenil. She knew pretty much the same about the Thalmor as Taminwe had told him. They were known to be hostile to immigrants to the Summerset Isle, and generally considered too extreme in their views to become a popular movement of any significance. They hadn't been seen in the other provinces, although they probably had sympathisers and contacts all around Tamriel. The Orcs saw a lot of prejudice, and it wasn't easy to tell the Thalmor's from anyone else's.

When he got to the part where the assassin had attacked him outside Gweden, he got a mixed reaction. She was genuinely grateful that the attack had failed, but also inclined to think he'd been too easy a mark. When he told her about the arrow being pulled from his leg she expressed surprise that only two could hold him down. He decided not to mention passing out.

He led her to believe that his subsequent fragility was just a ruse to get sympathy from the girls (which wasn't too much of an exaggeration), although she told him that it would have had the opposite effect on her. "If a man's fragile, what use is he to me?" she snorted.

That thought led her to talk about the situation between Wayrest and Orsinium, which could equally be described as fragile. Queen Elysana had never been any real threat to Gortwog. Her duplicity was somewhat cancelled out by the simplistic nature of her frequents plots against him. She was predictable, and therefore caused little or no problem. Until recently.

Either she had new advisors, or another party had joined the game. There had been acts of sabotage, and thefts of material and information, that she'd never have managed. There had even been an attempt to kill Uzgash's younger brother on his way back from Lilmoth, in Black Marsh.

The An-Xileel had declared that the absence of an Emperor made their accords with Cyrodiil null and void. Black Marsh had received no help from the Empire when the Daedra invaded, and felt they owed nothing in return. They had decided to secede, and were preparing to notify the Elder Council. That had made her brother's presence in Lilmoth "unnecessary", as they put it, and he was advised to return home.

It wasn't until he'd crossed the border from Wayrest that the attack took place. The boat in which he was travelling up the river had been moored for the night, and someone set it ablaze while they slept. He'd managed to get off alive, if a bit singed, but many of the crew had perished. The Argonians had had many better opportunities to do the same thing while he was leaving Black Marsh, and hadn't, so they were the least likely suspects. Gortwog believed that he was supposed to think Elysana was behind it, but he knew her style, and this was completely different.

It also wasn't clear if this was a failed attempt at an assassination, or an attempt to create friction between Wayrest and Orsinium. They could have used much more subtle methods if they just wanted him dead. The fire would be widely reported, and become the topic of speculation in all the markets and taverns around the land.

Gortwog had not sent couriers to warn his other children, fearing that they would be followed. Uzgash only learned of this when her duty roster returned her to the Iron Fortress.

So this trip was a welcome break from her routine in more ways than one. If she was a target, they'd be looking for her in the Wrothgarians, and not in Falkreath.

Taminwe hadn't mentioned which side had instigated this meeting. But there must have been a message sent between the agencies, and that courier could have been compromised. Uzgash told him not to worry on that score. They didn't need a courier for something that simple. There was a crystal ball sitting on a desk in someone's office in Orsinium, and if it glowed, she'd be sent here. She assumed another one existed in the Imperial Palace, to tell them to send him. The mages who did this didn't know what the signal meant, just that they had been told to send it. Another similar ball could cancel the request, from either end, if they weren't available. Any messages that needed to be passed would have been given to him or her to bring.

So why were they here this time? He hadn't been given a message for her, and she didn't have one for him. The events they'd just discussed were important enough, but there were no explicit instructions for either of them.

He asked her when she was due to return. "Whenever I'm done here," she responded. "Whatever done means. If you don't have any specific orders from your side, then I'm not sure why I'm here at all."

It didn't take long for them to realize that they'd both been sent here to hide. With assassins potentially looking for each of them, they were most likely safer here than anywhere else. They'd chosen this town because it was small, and easy for them to get to know, and be known by, everyone here. They'd soon spot a stranger, or they'd hear the rumors if any showed up.

Roast boar with orange sauce – yum!!! How sweet to imagine the gentler side of Uzgash’s orcish bed maneuvers.

‘The Orcs saw a lot of prejudice, and it wasn't easy to tell the Thalmor's from anyone else's.’
I love orcs but know exactly what Uzgash means.

"If a man's fragile, what use is he to me?" she snorted.
That thought led her to talk about the situation between Wayrest and Orsinium, which could equally be described as fragile.’
What a wonderfully ghastleyesque segue!

I like the crystal balls for sending signals.

They were both sent to Falkreath to hide, and pulling the bed sheets over them sounds like the perfect cover!

A couple small nits:
‘Svana and the reporter been joined on his trip here by Jokull, back from one of his many trading trips, and perhaps that was the cause for tonight's feast.’
Did you want to perhaps say, ‘…reporter had been joined…’?

‘The reporter was glad he was just telling him about those, and not demonstrating anything.’
I think it is Uzgash telling him these things so I suspect you want ‘…she was just telling him…’

Kintyra’s redecorating had me rolling.

Roast pork with orange sauce, I love it! Lore-friendly and delicious. What a nice evening for the reporter and Uzgash.

I love the Black Marsh politics and the crystal ball messaging. Sonds like it’s time for a little Falkreath vacation!

ROFL !!! Seems like Uzgash was a little too pleased with the reporter for the other residents of the inn's taste, lol.

Ooh, Kintra's meal sounded AWESOME !!



ROFL !!!

Awesome Write!

@All: I've only eaten Roast Boar once, and I don't recall what kind of sauce went with it. Orange was lore-friendly and a good way to entangle Jokull in the plot. And I know the readership likes to be fed!

@Acadian: Crystal balls seem to everywhere in the game, and nobody using them for anything. They can't all be Syl's. And if you can kill off Savlian, this time I'm killing the reporter, sort of.

----------

Uzgash - Part IV

They stayed in Falkreath for several days, making the most of each other's company, and expecting some communication from Orsinium or Cyrodiil to tell them it was safe to return, but nothing came. It wasn't long before the welcome break turned into unwelcome boredom, and they were both anxious to leave. And they'd leave together. They just wanted to do something else, somewhere else.

When Pala and her bear arrived to escort Jokull on his next trading trip south, they decided to join them and travel down to Bruma. Uzgash's bear would not be so obvious there at the Lodge, and he'd be more able to blend in with the crowd, too.

As they travelled down the trails through the Jerall Mountains, Pala brought them up to date with the news. It had been quite an eventful period for him to miss. Ocato had been elected Potentate by the Elder Council, as they'd felt the power vacuum had gone on for too long. He had reluctantly agreed, and almost immediately received notice of Black Marsh's secession from the Empire. Not an auspicious start.

The two events were unrelated; the Argonian delegate who'd delivered the message had already departed from Lilmoth before the Council's decision. It was not unexpected, as links with Black Marsh had been tenuous at best before the Oblivion Crisis. But it was potentially a pattern for the other provinces to follow. Everyone expected Elsweyr to be next, or at least part of it, as it seemed to be suffering from internal strife of its own. An attempt to assassinate the Mane had failed, but it probably would not be the last.

The reporter thought of Enilwen when she told him that. It wasn't the first attempt, either, but only a few knew of that one.

They'd just passed over a bridge across a deep ravine. On the way to Falkreath, he'd travelled with Svana, who noted that the main ropes were starting to show signs of fraying. She'd have to report that when she got back, so they could be replaced. Pala saw it too. They weren't all that bad yet, and she'd have given it a few weeks longer before she reported anything. Svana didn't have bridges on her regular route, so she was more eager to show her inspection skills when she got the chance.

But the ropes had given the reporter an idea. Since the bridge was due for repair anyway, they could use it to fake the death of Uzgash and himself. "And her bear", Pala reminded him, "or else he'd stay here and look for her body." That might get the assassins off their trail, as each group, those pursuing him, and those persuing Uzgash, would think the other sabotaged the bridge.

"Pala can even draw everyone's attention to the cut ends of the ropes, which will indicate foul play. Everyone will think we were killed by the assassins, and stop hunting us." The reporter made it all sound like it would work.

Jokull agreed. "If they were hired to kill you, I'd expect both lots to try and claim responsibility. They'd all want the payment for the job."

Jokull could take the bogus news to Falkreath when he returned; the bridge would be back in place by then. Uzgash would go into hiding at the Bruma Lodge for now, as her bear could stay there without raising any suspicion. He'd want to go back to the Imperial City and get a handle on the latest events. He couldn't go back to his reporter's job, but he hadn't being doing much of that recently anyway.

Pala and Uzgash stood either side of the trail, and counted down together. Then they swung their claymore and axe at the ropes, which obliging parted at the same time, and sent the near end of the bridge swinging down towards the opposite wall of the ravine. Pala was pleased to note that the frame of the bridge hadn't suffered in the process, and the bridge deck had only lost a couple of loose planks. That would be re-hung in no time, and the patrol could resume.

They peered down at the river at the bottom. It was hard to see anything, as it flowed rapidly over several small cascades of falls, and there was a good deal of spray obscuring the view. Good for washing away bodies, even one as large as a bear.

---

Gudrun had one small objection to Uzgash staying at the Lodge. There was only one Timo, and he had enough on his plate already. The other Riders' schedules meant that he wasn't overworked right now, but if Uzgash wasn't going to be out on patrol the way the others were, things would be different.

Well, Uzgash didn't need to stay in the Lodge all the time, he reasoned. Nobody in Bruma knew who she was, so they would just think she was a fresh recruit, waiting to be assigned her patrol. She could go out with one of the other women from time to time, as part of her "training".

Gudrun cut him off. That would still put Uzgash in the Lodge at the same time as whoever she patrolled with. Yes, there would be a problem less often, but it was still there.

If he'd been at the Farm, he could have asked Darwen for ideas. She knew Bruma well, having come from here. Better than Gudrun, and the others, who only went into town shopping from time to time.

And that's when it struck him. "Do you dance?" he asked Uzgash.

She responded with a display of gyrations that left him in no doubt. There was a lot more to this woman than met the eye. And in her bear-riding outfit, most of her did meet the eye, which only amplified the effect.
---
Olaf was delighted at the proposition they had for him. He hadn't had a dancer since Darwen left town, and business just hadn't been the same. Skjorta had almost agreed to do it, but Olfand had finally decided that there were limits to what he'd tolerate, and she didn't take the job.

Uzgash and Olaf haggled for a while. She told him that she knew all about Darwen, and besides, she didn't get drunk. She knew how to stop drinking before she was the worse for it, as any good warrior would. She'd want a cut of the extra income, as well as her food and drink.

Olaf started to object, but Uzgash unbuckled her chainmail top, and Olaf forgot what he was going to say. The reporter decided she would get a good enough deal without his help, and headed back to the Lodge.

---

Uzgash returned the following morning. She good-naturedly denied his accusation that she must be half-owner of the Tap and Tack by now. It hadn't been Olaf that occupied all her time. She'd come to an agreement with him soon after the reporter left.

She'd already mentioned being a Guild member, well now she was two. She'd paid her dues a second time to the local chapter, and they'd licenced her to trade in Bruma. This Uzgash was just "Uzgash" on the register. She'd left the "gra-Marghak" in the bottom of a ravine.

Next, she'd gone to Nord Winds and bought some clothing in the local style. Something that covered her much more than her uniform, but would peel off well when she danced at Olaf's.

Then she'd gone back to Olaf with a proposal of her own. She wouldn't just draw in a crowd, she'd see to it that a room got rented for the night. The man would be paying, of course, and she'd like a piece of that, too. On top of what the man was paying her. Uzgash hadn't put too much pressure on Olaf this time, she didn't need to. And she'd celebrated her success with a few drinks, a bit of dancing, and a Nord or two. "Even after buying those extra clothes, I'm ahead," she proclaimed.

Gudrun came downstairs from her office to discuss a roster of duties that would fit in with those evenings at the Tap & Tack. Uzgash would want to to spend a decent amount of time with her bear, so something close to town was needed. And Pala had talked to her about giving Timo a bit of expert training. They'd have to work that in somehow.

It seemed that the reporter didn't need to worry about her settling in here at Bruma, and he could leave for the Imperial City whenever he wanted. "Not going to see Falanu in Skingrad?" asked Gudrun, who'd met her when she and the Champion had gone hunting for Goblin Jim. "She'll be especially pleased to see you now you're dead."

Ahah! The fake yer death with a falling bridge gambit! Great idea for the reporter’s witness protection program. I can see that Uzgash is a natural on the dance floor and had to chuckle as Gudrun pointed out how the reporter was just Falanu’s style now!

Acadian hit exactly what I was going to say, lol. Faking the reporter's death was an awesome idea, then referring to Falanu's darker leanings - her secret is out! Lol. Great Write!

Uzgash is one heck of negotiator. Olav’s place (or is it Olaf's?) is going to be awesome with the regular crowd plus a dancing orc. No one will notice Ongar’s food thieving again!

@Acadian, mALX: I like the "Falanu prefers you dead" idea so much I couldn't help repeating it in this one.

@Grits: True, Uzgash will be the only one looking on his direction. But if she notices what Ongar's doing, he may have to reform quickly!

---

Since we're leaving Falkreath, I thought I'd show one easter egg I just added to the mod. Fjarnheld's shop is just labelled "Falkreath Smithy" in the game, but it does have a sign outside that tells a different story.

The next part of the story picks up an idea of Acadian's that sacrificing a woman will get you a female Daedra in return. Thanks for letting me use that!

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Aranxa

"I need you to go and interview Falanu Hlaalu," Taminwe told him. "It only seems appropriate to send you, now you're dead."

That joke was beginning to get on his nerves, which is probably why she repeated it. But she really did want him to go to Skingrad. Tsarrina had made her monthly trip to the Red Dragon Club to do the books, and as always, they'd exchanged gossip while she worked. She'd heard from Silanu about a suspicious Altmer mage visiting her sister. She was in regular contact with Falanu through messages carried by one of their regular customers, Bjarne Long-Arm, who lived in Skingrad and visited once a week. The reporter remembered him. He was the Nord he'd met in the West Weald Inn on his first trip to Gweden, which was also when he'd met Falanu.

"I thought at first that she was describing Lathenil," explained Taminwe, "but this was someone else. Tsarrina confirmed that Lathenil was still at Gweden."

"This other mage was buying all the Columbine Root Pulp, Ginkgo Leaf, Ginseng, Nightshade, and Water Hyacinth Nectar he could lay his hands on. That made no sense to Falanu, as they're all ingredients for fortifying Magicka, and an Altmer usually has that to spare. But if they weren't for his own use, who would it be?"

"Go down to Skingrad and see if she has any more clues, and then maybe you could go on to Gweden, and finish up with Lathenil. He's probably calmed down a lot by now, so you should be able to get more from him."

The last time he'd spoken to Falanu was when he went to get the key to Miranu's laboratory, and that was quite an exhausting experience. He made a mental note to refuse any potions, ointments or the like this time, especially if Miranu made them.

---

Falanu repeated what Taminwe had told him, but added that she'd been curious about where the Altmer was going with all those ingredients he'd bought. She'd followed him after he left her shop, until it was apparent that he was leaving town through the East gate. She'd gone up to the bridge leading to the castle in time to see him pass beneath it and walk up the road. When he turned off towards Silorn, she went out on the Castle hill to watch which way he went from there. He wasn't headed for the ruin itself, but left the trail after it crossed the river. When she lost sight of him in the distance, it appeared that he was traveling due East.

"There's not much in that direction until you get to Fort Black Boot," she told him. "I've been out that way gathering ingredients before, so I know. I don't get too close to the Fort, though. There seem to be conjurers living there, from what I can tell, and I have no wish to be chased by a summoned Clannfear." She marked the fort on his map, so he'd be able to find it if he needed to.

She also described the man's robe, in case he saw him later. It was blue, like a regular mage, or conjurer, would wear, but had a border of gold writing in what looked like Daedric letters. Not a style she'd seen before.

---

When he left Skingrad, it was to the West. He needed to have another chat with Lathenil before he dealt with Fort Black Boot. That sounded more like a job for the Champion anyway, as conjurers usually hurled spells first, and talked afterward.

Freija saw him walking up to the farm and ran to meet him. "Are you crazy?" she demanded. "There could be more assassins looking for you!"

He assured her that it was much less likely now that he'd faked his death in a bridge collapse. "You'll probably read about that in the Black Horse Courier soon, " he told her. "We just need to leave enough time for an investigation, so there are some 'facts' to quote, and a few witnesses to the scene that can be interviewed."

Freija wasn't easily convinced. "If you're wandering around the country, you should have someone with you to defend you." He got the impression that she meant herself.

He reminded her that she was needed at Gweden to protect Lathenil, but that didn't sway her. "Nelrene's here, and Prizna, and Maeva, and Sugar. That's enough to look after one elf."

She hadn't mentioned Darwen. It turned out that the Bosmer was off on a bear-hunting trip, which undermined his argument further. If Darwen felt she could do that, it really had been quiet around the farm. So Lathenil wasn't attracting any attention, and that probably meant nobody knew he was here.

He went in and spoke to Lathenil. The Altmer was much more calm than he'd been the first time, but he was still adamant that the Thalmor were the root of all evil, and responsible for everything wrong with the world. He'd most likely never change his mind about that. Unfortunately he didn't have any information about their activities outside the Summerset Isle. Other than the attempts on their lives, that is.

Lathenil had no idea who the mage was that had bought the supplies from Falanu. The reporter passed on her detailed description of the man's robe, but it didn't evoke any reaction.

When the reporter went to leave, he found Freija, in her travel robe, by his side. "I'm not letting you journey back alone," she told him.

"But you're unarmed," he protested. "How are you going to protect me?"

Freija summoned her Claymore and Armor to show him. The weapon looked fearsome enough, but just skimpy plate panties? They didn't look like they'd do anything but distract the enemy. She admitted that was one purpose of her outfit, but assured him that it also held a significant Shield enchantment. She was better armored than she'd be with a full set of Steel plate. He agreed that it did look a lot better, too. Like many Nord women, she had a lot to display.

As they walked together toward Skingrad, he told her about the Altmer mage and Fort Black Boot. He'd be asking the Champion to go down there when he got back to the city. "But won't that be too late?" she asked. "It's been a day or two since he went there already. If you leave it much longer, he'll have moved on."

By the time they reached the West gate to Skingrad, she'd changed her plans from protecting him, to leading him directly into danger. Conjurers were a known quantity, and it was the unknown that worried her. She could handle a nest of conjurers on her own, and there were ways to keep him safe at the same time. His Illusion skill was quite high, as he'd made a lot use of his Charm spell, and he'd be able to sustain a useful duration of invisibility if he learned that. She was sure the Mages Guild would have that one available.

---

At the door of the fort, she made him cast the Invisibility spell before they went in. "I'll open any doors," she told him."You should be behind me anyway, watching my back, and warning me if any of them get around us. If you need to re-cast, step behind a pillar, so they don't see you doing it."

As he watched her swing into action, he was reminded that she had been a team Champion at the Arena. She certainly knew how to use that Claymore, and mowed down the conjurers with ease. But the summon spell eventually expired, just as another stepped out of a corridor behind them.

Freija had her hand raised to re-cast her bound equipment and was unaware of the threat at her back. He realized that if he called out to warn her, he'd give himself away, just as much as losing his invisiblity would. So he stabbed his shortsword into the conjurer's back as he passed. His howl of pain gave Freija all the warning she needed, and she swung her Claymore through his neck.

A charging Clannfear disolved into smoke a few feet short of the reporter, who hastily cast Invisibility again.

The corridors wound on down to a wider hallway lined with stone coffins, from which a broad stairway led up. Around the corner at the top came a hooded figure flinging shock, and the reporter had to duck behind a column. Invisible or not, that lightning was something to avoid. He heard Freija curse in a most un-ladylike manner, and a thump as someone's body hit the ground. The lightning stopped, but whether that was for lack of a source, or a target, wasn't clear.

Remembering that he was still invisible, he stepped back out to look. Freija was standing over a crumpled figure at the foot of the stairs. She moved on, cautiously now, as that last Adept had been more than she'd expected. He hurried to catch up with her.

In the chamber at the top, there was a large stone throne. Sitting on it was the largest woman he'd ever seen, at least eight feet in height, if she'd been standing. Even now, her eyes were higher than his own, and they seemed to be looking straight at him.

That was because they were. The Xivilai was a mage, and could detect his life despite the invisibility spell. She spoke directly to him.

"Who are you that has come to defy those annoying mortals that summoned me?"

He let the spell dissipate, as it seemed pointless now. He introduced the two of them to her, and was given her name, Aranxa, in return. Freija dispelled her bound equipment, and relaxed somewhat. Aranxa didn't appear to be on the conjurers' side, at least.

The huge woman rose from her seat, and led them around the corner to a stone slab, on which there was the naked body of a young Imperial woman. The hilt of a silver dagger protruded from her chest. "They sacrificed this one to bring me here, thinking they'd get a warrior in return," explained Aranxa. "But they got a healer instead. My magic is all Restoration and Mysticism, and I bear no weapons. They were not pleased. One of them attacked me with his magic, but his spells were easily reflected, and he learned a hard lesson."

"Now I'm stuck here in your world, unless you can find this woman's soul and return it. Molag Bal has accepted the exchange, and it is in his world now."

"How can we get her soul back from there?" the reporter asked. "We can't just open up a portal and go fetch it."

"You can't, but I can," she replied. "I am of that world, so it's my right to invite you there. I believe I know where the soul has been taken, too." She waved her hand towards the center of the room, and a blue swirling mist condensed into a small archway filled with blue flame.

He looked at Freija, and the two of them tried to decide if this was a trick. "Before we go," he began "Could you answer a few questions?"

He asked Aranxa what she knew of the conjurers' purpose in summoning her, or rather the Xivilai warrior they wanted. Had they said anything about that?

Not much, but the names Elsweyr and Riverhold had been mentioned. Freija and the reporter recognised those. Elsweyr was the nearest province, and Riverhold was a market town in it, just across the border from here. They might be targets for an attack, and summoned Deadra would be an untraceable weapon to use aginst them.

"I'll be here when you get back," Aranxa interrupted. "Give me your questions, and I'll think about them. You can have the answers when you return."

---

The world they emerged into was hot and dry. The sky was red, and full of threatening clouds. Lakes of lava surrounded the island of bare rock they found themselves on, and there was no immediate sign of life, or even undead.

There was also no sign of a portal to go back, so they'd have to go exploring anyway. Freija made the reporter try his invisibility, in case it didn't work here. She tested her bound equipment, too. In this heat, it was more comfortable than the thick robe, anyway.

There appeared to be only one path away from there, so they took it. At the foot of the first slope, a Dremora was waiting, and he was immediately hostile, hurling a fireball towards Freija. She dodged as she ran towards him, and the fireball sailed on into the sky.

"All threat, and not much delivery," was how Freija summed up her late opponent. "But he's just the first. Who knows how many more we'll meet."

The ones that most concerned the reporter turned out to be the fire towers. His invisibilty proved useless against them, although the fireballs were slow enough to dodge. He drew their fire, as Freija sped through to attack the Atronach beyond. That hadn't seen him, and it didn't appear smart enough to realise that the towers had a target.

The trail they were following appeared to be spiraling outward. They hadn't been able to see anything beyond the lava from where they arrived, so they were hopeful that it wouldn't be endless. The enemies seemed to be closer together now, which might also mean they were close to their goal.

And then they saw her. A ghostly pale outline of a woman stood at the end of the trail, but there was no sign of a portal to take them all back. They ran the rest of the way, but as the reporter reached out to touch the spectral woman, she dissolved into smoke.

Freija pointed to a portal that had just appeared behind where the woman had stood. "We can at least go back and find out what we should do next," she reasoned. They stepped through and found themselves back in Fort Black Boot.

---

Apparently they'd just done the right thing, as Aranxa was beaming. They'd captured the soul, and she could restore the woman to whom it belonged. "While you were gone, I looked into the fading minds of those you slew," she told them. "Unfortunately, the one who gave them their instructions was not among them. They knew little of the ultimate aims, only their own part in it, which was to summon Xivilai. Riverhold was their target once the army had been raised."

They were suprised that she could read minds, especially those of the dead.

"The memories of the dead fade rapidly," she explained. "Starting with the most recent, and going back in time. When you get old, you'll notice the same thing happening to you. And the reading of minds is invaluable to a Healer, as you can't ask an unconscious man where it hurts! It was one of the first skills I worked on."

She led them back to the woman's corpse and cast a spell. The dagger in the woman's chest faded away, and her eyes slowly opened. She looked at Freija and the reporter as if she recognised them from the Oblivion realm they'd just left, and then she noticed Aranxa.

She leaped from the slab and clung to the reporter. He cast a Calm spell on her while she was distracted. Not too much, as he didn't really want her to let go. Just enough to prevent any accidents.

Aranxa laughed as he did that, and that also helped dispel the woman's fear. "Don't worry, Alessia," she said. "I won't be here much longer. I can use that portal myself, now you're safely returned."

But before she went through, she wanted to give Freija a reward. (Alessia would reward the reporter, if she wasn't mistaken.) She'd noticed the Nord's immortality and knew that she was scared of its potential consequences. A scroll of parchment appeared in her hand. "This is a scroll of Dispel Immortality," she told her. "You haven't been immortal long enough to know if it also stops you from aging, and I can't see into the future to find out. But either way, you may want to use this at some point. It is useless to anyone else, of course, so it has no value, but I think you'll consider it priceless."

---

"How did she know my name?" asked Alessia, after the Xivilai had gone.

"The same way she knew about my curse," replied Freija. "Not that it's a curse any more, now I have this scroll."

Alessia looked puzzled. How did she beome immortal? And why would she think that a curse?

"We can talk about that on the way back to your home," the reporter replied. "Assuming that you don't mind wearing a ripped and blood-stained conjurer's robe to travel in."

Freija cut him off. She'd just found Alessia's own clothes in a chest by the slab. No bloodstains on them, so they must have stripped her before she was stabbed. The reporter was disappointed. He'd hoped that Alessia would prefer to do without, rather than wear a conjurer's robe.

The look Freija gave him said that she knew what was he was thinking. She changed the subject. "Did you notice that the conjurers here were all Altmer?" she asked.

"Well, they're normally that or Breton, who don't have quite as much Magicka. I'd think you need the extra to be able to summon Daedra all the time. Even more for a Xivilai, that's an Expert-level spell just to summon one temporarily. Perhaps that's why they needed all the potions, if they were trying to do a permanent summoning."

"But it still required a soul exchange, even with that boost," Freija reminded him. "So I can't see them trying this often."

She had a point, but the Altmer factor had him wondering again if there wasn't something real behind Lathenil's paranoia. He'd have to discuss that with Taminwe. As Aranxa had mentioned, the mage that had visited Falanu's shop wasn't here. They'd have soon spotted that robe of his among the plain ones.

The three of them travelled on to the Imperial City. Alessia had been a chambermaid at the Tiber Septim Hotel before her abduction, and she hoped she still had her job. It was quite the best she'd ever had, as she got free board, and Augusta Calidia had hinted that she could earn a bit extra if she offered extra services to the male guests. She wasn't sure about that part any more, as it was what got her into this mess to start with. She didn't remember anything after she went into that elf's room.

Still, it wasn't a required part of the job, she thought, and she'd have to see if Augusta still considered her one of the staff. The reporter pointed out that the Red Dragon Club was open for business again, so there were alternatives, both for the Tiber Septim guests and Alessia.

Allesia was pleased to find that she'd been missed, but not dismissed. She hurried off to catch up on the cleaning duties she'd left undone. Freija decided that the reporter would be safe enough now he was so close to the Club, and left to return to Gweden. She advised him to find himself a bodyguard he could trust. "You're a lover, not a fighter," she reminded him. "Your instincts when you meet someone new are totally wrong for someone with assassins looking for him. You need a companion who's not so trusting, if only to make you think first."

He walked around the corner to the Red Dragon Club. He had a report to make.


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

In the playable version of this episode, Freija is not involved because you as Champon of Cyrodiil are quite capable of taking on the conjurers yourself. However, I did provide an option for the player to select the scroll of Dispel Immortality as a reward, and give it to her. You get an extra Fame point for doing that. See the walkthrough here for details. (Warning - naked Xivilai!)

‘He heard Freija curse in a most un-ladylike manner, and a thump as someone's body hit the ground. The lightning stopped, but whether that was for lack of a source, or a target, wasn't clear.’
This was a nice bit of wording here to capture the confusion.

What a pleasure to see several elements of what Buffy learned while helping Savlian clear the conjurors from Fort Agarctova make their way into this episode!

For a moment, I thought Aranxa would end up in a Cyrodiil brothel. I imagine she would damage the customers much more than even Sugar!

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Ooh, nice easter egg catch!



Loved this little character trait detail, lol.



I always love it when in game NPC's use life detect! Awesome touch!



This was a spectacular bit of world building! Absolutely Loved this idea!

This update goes on my list of top favorites so far - Awesome update !! Great Write!



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