Heh, yeah I know!

Thing is it makes logical sense for them to do that, but Annekke is a fairly staid Nord whilst Alaie is a lot more pragmatic and practical about such things and has not got the same hang-ups and is certainly able to dispense with them when the time comes to deal with a situation.
Annekke just needs a bit of time to come to terms with that, I think!

--

Well Bthardamz was a bust, they could not attain entry no matter how hard they tried and, disappointed, they were forced to move on. Reluctantly they headed to the west and south, in the rough direction of Markarth.
Alaie was showing a marked reluctance with regards to heading to the city, even though it was the most obvious place in terms of information, and a good place for trading. Annekke, who had her own feelings about the city, kept her counsel - for the time being at least.
The continuing disappointment of their journey is being mitigated somewhat by Ragnvald, and what lies within. Certainly some coin to be made, that's for sure.

Not far outside the place, they had come across the bodies of two forsworn, along with a cave bear that was very much alive. Having dispatched the cave bear they discovered that one of the tribespeople was still alive. Upon discovering this, Alaie - her muzzle set and firm - dispatched him with a slice to the throat and perhaps rather more vigorously than was entirely necessary.
Annekke threw her a silent question and Alaie, heading towards a bag in one of the tents, rummaged around in it until she found what she was looking for. Wordlessly she held it up for the Nord to see.
"I see..." Said Annekke, and her face hardened with resolve. She, along with most of the rest of Skyrim, had no real love of the Forsworn to start with.
She had even less now.

--

Don't get me wrong, I love cats, but it would be hard to cuddle up with a human-sized one. Then again, if the situation calls for this...

I will give you a hint about dwemer ruins. Some of them are very large, and they have several entrances / exits. Some exits cannot be entered, you must find the true entrance.

I am not speaking specifically of Bthardamz, I am really bad with names, so I don't know if this is one of these places.

I’m happy to report that Buffy’s darker side is alive and well.

Buffy and Superian found themselves catching up to three Thalmor on the road going the same way. She absorbed the spirit of her critter guardian, slowed Superian slightly and simply tagged along right behind the Thalmor.

As the now foursome passed a fort guarded by Forsworn, Buffy calmly edged Superian to one side to stay out of the ensuing firefight and kept her bow shouldered. The single Thalmor that survived continued his journey. Before long, they encountered an ice mage and a fire mage who engaged the Thalmor. Again, Buffy calmly maneuvered Superian out of the way. A slight smile even creased her features as a sabrecat joined the fray.

When she finally unshouldered, nocked and fired her bow from the saddle, it was to put down the sole survivor – a badly wounded fire mage.

Such a shame that those poor Thalmor will not reach their destination.

Woe to Thalmor soldiers that meet Buffy! She'll follow them as long as needed for their lives to end.

Whoa, Buffy sure knows how to wait for her moment! I suppose the best escort through the dangerous Reach is someone that you’d like to kill. I'm picturing Buffy coolly in control and unnoticed at the back of the procession. Hmm, did she have anything to do with the appearance of that sabre cat?

Yeah, Lord Haaf-Mersey is always struggling when it comes to Thalmor. He never attacks them outright, because they don't actually make any sort of move against him, but he's always wary of them. Hard not to be; they're so rude.

Thanks!

Grits - No that was just a wild sabrecat who apparently didn't care for Thalmor either.

Renee -

Buffy's given up on getting involved when Thalmor are escorting a prisoner. Even if she can avoid upping her murder count and keep the prisoner alive, the rude Nord doesn't even thank her.

Regular Thalmor patrols, however are another matter. She'll often dismount with a bit of distance, approach them and talk. They'll warn her, she'll just hold her ground and remain close to them as they continue to warn her away. Eventually, they'll attack. Now, the fragile elf is faced with three serious opponents up close - which is normally what she tries ever so hard to avoid. What she has going for her in this case though is a thought out and prepared plan. As soon as they go hostile, she casts a massive fear spell to disperse them. Then she has time to summon help, conjure her bow and take them on one at a time as they straggle back to her. It absolutely gets our heart rate way up there but her tactics (usually) work well.

She's toyed with maybe trying, once they go hostile, casting a mass paralyze spell, then backing away. As they get up, hit them with an area of effect frenzy spell. Then finally close things with her patented 'congratulate the wounded victor with a lethal arrow'.

Oh wow, they attack Buffy? No way! .. I know they've attacked several of my other characters, and I know some of them have attacked Haaf-Mersey in the past, but this doesn't seem to trigger all the times I've been with him lately. Maybe since he's 'beat' Harkon there's some sort of hidden Disposition bonus going on.

Do you have random vampire attacks in your game? I personally enjoy these because they can happen in just about any exterior cell, you just never know when. The interior-cell attacks eventually go away, and I am glad they do, but the outdoor ones are fun. Challenging.

Once in a great while, Buffy will get jumped by a group of Thalmor carrying assassination orders who actively seek her out. For the 'regular' Thalmor patrols (not assassination squads or prisoner escorts), they'll pass peacefully if you keep a bit of distance. If you get close, they'll issue warnings. If you ignore the warnings too long, they'll actually attack.

Buffy gets jumped sometimes by those Thalmor assassination squads, by groups of Dragonborne DLC cultists, an occasional DB assassin, the stray thief on the roads and sometimes a well equipped 'Breton' (or any race and simply identified by their race). And, yes, random vampires.

Out in the wild, the vamp attacks are fun. In town, not so much. Buffy is very hesitant to shoot her mighty bow into a mixed melee of guards, vamps and townies in the dark. Happily, when the attack is over, she uses her detect dead spell to search for any nonrespawning NPCs - so we can resurrect them. Those town vamp attacks are very predictable in our game however. Buffy does not fast travel so arriving in town after dark via FT (a common trigger) doesn't happen. When she does trigger them, it is after spending the night in a tavern - becuase she leaves before the sun comes up. Since it is still dark, that triggers a vamp attack sometimes. She's learned to be ready and deal with it though and, thanks to the resurrect command, no harm comes from it.

Well in fairness I think it's a bit of a "we'll never discuss this again" moment...
...needs must and all that!

They're gonna keep looking... Bthardamz was undoubtedly frustrating though...

The girls are heading towards Markarth.
It's been an eventful trip thus far, what with finding that mask in the temple - (the one that Annekke is insisting on wearing) - and Alaie's current illness.

They've found a house opposite a bridge to wait out the night, no one seems to be in it and they suspect the current incumbent has Forsworn tendencies anyway, as evinced by the 3 tribespeople guarding it...

Envinced. I just learned a new word. Alaie is still sick?

Heh.
Not really, she's only picked a bit of an illness. Just makes her a bit tired. Thing us she's too cheap to use a Cure Disease as she doesn't want to buy another! Drives Annekke bonkers...

I hope Alaie's not suffering from much more than a furball perhaps. Wise to save that cure disease potion for her friend . . . I mean seeing how Annekke fills out her miner's outfit I'm afraid that if she got a chest cold it could last forever. . . .

10:31 AM, Turdas, 21st of Last Seed, 4E 202

Nassqa no feel good. Nassqa sick.

Nassga go shop, speak man, speak woman. Woman say "go town Whiterun". Point as south. 'Whiterun big' say she 'Whiterun make Nassqa no feel sick'. Nassqa go cure sick, big Whiterun, in tomorrow.

Woman say Nassqa okay cook in shop. I cook in shop, cook fish. Eat fish, and feel little good.

Shop-man angry. Shop-man say 'damn thieves'. Man speak much, say 'damn thieves'. Nassqa not know help man find damn thieves. Nassqa go mine ore. Kill wolf. Sell ore at shop-man, sell wolf pelt at shop-man. No find 'damn thieves'. Me cure sick, at Whiterun.

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

I installed Realistic Needs & Disease into his game, along with a slew of other mods. Nassqa has become somewhat of a test character. One of the things I discovered is the poor guy has gotten sick both times he drank from the stream outside of Riverwood, and this doesn't seem realistic to me that a fast-moving, coldwater stream would cause sickness so easily. Thank goodness RN&D is highly tweakable.

I may create my second PC character tonight. It's rainy in Maryland, and I alreay have an idea of who my next one is going to be. .

So Nassqa is getting familiar to diseases of Skyrim. Hope he finds some cure in Whiterun

Shop-man.

Another character on the way? Who might this be?

It's Raining In Baltimore, that means Renee must be rolling a new toon to beat the game with!

Nas is so cute with his first person speech, always identifying himself in his sentences. What is wrong with those nasty Riverwood people, that everyone gets sick drinking their water!

Wow, I had no idea Counting Crows did a song called Raining in Baltimore!



I am mimicking the way my friend used to RP Nasqa years ago. We'd always make little voices for our characters. The same friend also created Gunter, the silly guy I was with back in 2012 who spoke like a caveman. Nassqa is more serious than Gunter though.

Renee, I am so excited for Nassqa and your next new character!

Graci, Gritsy.

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

Whiterun big. Whilerun no like Riverwood. Nassqa go Whiterun, big town... Many peoples.

Nassqa find place go enter Whiterun. Angry man say "Halt." Angry-man guard. Guard angry-man say "No go enter Whiterun." .. Nassqa say "No go enter Whiterun, why?" Angry man-guard say "dragon fly in sky." Nassqa see sky. Me look sky. Nassqa no see dragon at sky. "No see dragon at sky", Nassqa say. Nassqa cross arms. "I Nassqa," Nassqa say. "I of Akavir, come far way." Nassqa say at angry-man guard: "Nassqa Akavir no well. Nassqa Akavir sick. I come Whiterun, want cure sick. Need cure sick."

Angry guard-man move arms. Angry guard man not much angry, now. No-angry guard-man say "okay Nassqa Akavir." Nassqa go Whiterun.

Find many people. Not know where go, cure sick. Nassqa walk. Find lady of stall. Stall-lady say "fresh fruit and vegetable, everyday." Nassqa not know word 'everyday', not know word 'fresh'. Nassqa say stall-lady "I Nassqa. I of Akavir." Point me. "Nassqa Akavir no feel good. Nassqa Akavir sick." Lady of stall say "go there". Point as south. Nassqa see shop.

Go shop. Lady in shop, speak much. Shop-lady say "Nassqa look rather pale. Could be Ataxia." Nassqa not know word 'rather.' Nassqa not know word 'Ataxia'. Nassqa say shop-lady "I Nassqa, Akavir. Nassqa Akavir sick. Nassqa Akavir need find cure, no sick." Point bone. "Bone hurt," me say at shop-lady. Shop lady say "are you an 'alchemist', then?" Nassqa not know word 'alchemist'.

Nassqa see shop-lady have much potion. But no buy: shop-lady want much gold, at potion. Nassqa no have much gold. No find cure, in shop. Nassqa sad.

Me find man, shout at peoples. Shout-man at peoples say much 'Mighty Talos'. Nassqa know Mighty Talos, hear much Mighty Talos from Akavir.

Shout-man much say word. Speak much, say little. Nassqa say "I Nassqa Akavir. Nassqa Akavir sick. Nassqa Akavir say bone hurt. Shout-man say "Feel mighty Talos." Point as relic, at ground. Relic at ground feel magic. Nassqa touch magic relic at ground, feel much cure.

Nassqa no feel sick, mighty Talos cure Nassqa, at Whiterun. Nassqa thank Mighty Talos, cure sick.

Renee, I'm glad Nassqa survived the rainy night in Maryland without getting replaced. Loved how Shout-man and his sidekick Talos cured Nassqa! Mighty Talos indeed.

I like it how simple yet exact Nassqa mentions people: guard-man, stall-lady, shop-lady, and most of all shout-man.

No find cure, in shop. Nassqa sad.

Lol, yeah my favorite part is when the guard says "No one can enter Whiterun, there's dragons about," and Nassqa simply looks at the sky. Where? I don't see no dragon!"

Here comes first Irenei's story. It's definitely very different from Lucius' stories / Lydia's entries. Most of the dialogue spoken by NPCs is from the actual game but some lines and actions here and there are part of fiction. Hope you like it.



“If you’ve come to Solitude to join the Legion, speak to Rikke. If not, just keep your nose clean while you’re here… or you’ll end up like Roggvir,” a guard said to some High Elf in black robes. Only when he had a second look at him, he noticed that the black robes in question were in fact Thalmor robes. And the grimace on the Elf’s face was only an introduction to the storm that followed.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME IN SUCH A TONE, you filthy Nord? Do you even know who I AM? Don’t you see my fine handmade enchanted silk robes that bear insignia of the most prominent Aldmeri Dominion? Are you sure that you can actually SEE anything through this kettle on your bonce? I am Irenei the Magnificent and you shall address me as Your Highness. I AM the eminent investigator and royal justiciar for the one and only Dominion! Aldmeri Dominion! Better keep that in mind unless you revel in cleaning horse dung!”

“Excuse me. Until next time.”

The pompous Altmer said nothing but continued his march towards Solitude.
--
“Want something?” said a guard at the doors of the capital city of Skyrim when the Thalmor Elf just didn’t stop staring at him already.

“OBVIOUSLY! That’s why I’m looking at YOU! I thought that the war will end sooner than you'd perform your duties! These doors won’t open by themselves, YOU KNOW?” snarled Irenei the Magnificent at an unsuspecting guard.

‘Thalmor these days’, thought the guard by himself and obediently opened the door for His Highness.

“Now stand aside! I don’t want to be seen entering Servitude in your company! Shoo shoo!”

The guard said nothing but returned to his post. ‘Servitude? This Altmer’s insane.’
--
“Step aside, peasants!" Irenei the Magnificent nervously walked among the crowd that gathered at Solitude’s market to witness Roggvir’s execution. “Step aside! You who smell of putrid fish, go stand somewhere else. This is my place.” Irenei almost pushed Addvar the fishmonger aside and stopped directly in front of the chopping block.

After the execution…

‘So this is Servitude, the capital of Skyrim. Hmpfh! I expected… worse. But from what I read and heard, Servitude is supposedly the best what Skyrim has to offer. So one can only imagine how the rest of this wretched land of hairy people looks! Hmmm…this roof looks like it could be leaking. Which means that it probably does. Not that it bothers these Nords. They’re happy as long as they’re hairy and have mead in their belly! Animals!’

.....

‘CAN IT BE??? WINKING SKEEVER??? WINKING??? SKEEVER??? By Magnus! Ptuah, that’s disgusting! Who would call an inn Winking Skeever? Nords of course, who else! Insolence and pestilence! I will have to ask for a raise back at the Embassy! I am not sure that my pure heart is able to tolerate all atrocities that await me in Skyrim. Urrgghh, I get goose bumps merely by thinking of skeever winking at me! But I bet that Nords don’t! It’s hard to tell apart one from another!’

....

“You know you can afford a septim or two.”

“I sincerely hope that this particular line was NOT directed at me!”

“A coin for an old war veteran? It’s not much to ask.”

“So YOU are actually talking to ME?”

“Spare some coin for…?”

“NOO!”

“It’s best if you leave me be.”

“It’s best that you talk to me NEVER AGAIN!”

After some more accusing observations of Solitude, Irenei approached the market.

‘So this is what counts as a market in Servitude. Hmpfh! Three stalls, three peasants, smell of putrid fish AGAIN, rotten vegetables and sour wine. But just because it looks so unkempt, it could be a perfect place for Talos worshippers. Thus a perfect place to begin my investigation, my inquiry, my hunt! I will be the most successful justiciar in the history of the Dominion!'

“You there!” Irenei shouted at Evette San, the beverage merchant of Solitude.

"You wouldn't have a few minutes to run down to the docks would you?" humbly asked Evette and smiled.

“WHAT??? Do I look like some courier to you? A homing pigeon mayhaps? A Kha-JITT? A LIZARD? For I am NONE of these! I am Irenei the Magnificent and I have just arrived from Skywatch of the Summerset Isles to this land of yours where skeevers wink and “war veterans” beg for MY septims instead of fighting! I am sure you have never heard of where I come from because your entire world consists of this stall! BUT… you will address me as Your Highness for I am royal inquisitor and eminent interrogator, come to exterminate every skeever that dares to worship Talos! And you’re under investigation NOW!”

Irenei snapped his fingers and a bound quill appeared in his right hand. He pulled a small book from his satchel and began writing:

“FIRST QUESTION: Your name? That is, if you have one.”

“E-Evette San, Sir…I mean, your Highness.” Evette has seen many arrogant Thalmor agents passing through Solitude but this one was the nuttiest of them all. She was scared that he will arrest her without any apparent reason if she'd only look at him the wrong way.

“Evesan. Good. SECOND QUESTION: Do you worship Talos?”

“Absolutely no, your Highness.”

“Hmpfh! Look me in the eyezzz! Come closer! Not sure if I believe you on this one but let it be…for now. THIRD QUESTION: do you actually manage to sell anything?”

“My sales are... adequate. Honestly, I rely on the business brought in by the Burning of King Olaf, and that's not likely to happen this year.”

“Do my ears deceive me or is true? Have I just heard that there is some burning of kings going on in this…this…this whatever it is?”

"It's a great big festival put on by the bards, every year. They burn an effigy of old King Olaf. It's quite a bit of fun. The bards give out spiced wine during the festival, so they put in a big order.”

“Oh I’m sure it’s great! Superb, definitely! Drunk bards, burning effigy, cheap spiced wine, what’s there not to love? BY MAGNUS, you Nords are at an all-time low! I do hope for the sake of my stomach that I NEVER witness this festival with my sensible eyes."

"But with the death of High King Torygg, the Festival has been declared "in poor taste." So it looks like it won't happen this year."

"Oh, so your King had to croak to declare this burning "in poor taste"? It took you a long time because it was tasteless from the very start! At last it won't happen this year then! FINAL QUESTION: What do you actually have for sale?”

“E-e-verything I’ve got on display, really.”

“I will be the judge of THAT!”

After browsing through Evette’s inventory…

“A lot of wine you have here! Too much, by all means! Consider yourself lucky that I don’t have time to report you for selling alcohol. And I do hope that this swill you call spiced wine, isn’t spiced with Talos’ essence! For if I hear only one drunk Nord worshipping Talos with a bottle of your brew in his hand, I WILL know the source of his madness!”

Having said that, Irenei the Magnificent turned on his heels and marched off.

The intent was to pay a visit to Castle Dour and the Blue Palace but after witnessing atrocities of “Servitude”, Irenei the Magnificent could barely breathe. He wondered whether he will remain sane in Skyrim if Servitude is the best what Skyrim has on display. As he was leaving the town, he shut his eyes when walking under the Winking Skeever sign.

Goodness. heh heh those poor NPCs. They simply don't know what's coming. That poor Evette!

So I assume you used an alternate start with him, eh?

Lol 'Servitude'. Clever. If he's complaining about Solitude, he's in for quite a treat with the other villlages of Skyrim.

Welcome to the land of hairy people, Your Highness! Oh my, what a hoot! I'm with Renee in looking forward to Irenei's observations as he visits some of Skyrim's more. . . pastoral settings.

In another universe of Skyrim, where many things are alike yet many differ, where dragons and Dragonborns are only heroes from tales of the old…

Nights in Skyrim were cold but the night on the 31st of Morning Star was colder than usually. Ashad, Dritta and Borik were sitting around a campfire, having just finished their late meal. “Their” camp north of Helgen was a good point for robbing unwary travelers – it was close to the main road between Falkreath and Riverwood and hidden among trees yet they could spot any travelers from afar. If it was a lone adventurer, they were courageous enough to attack him, but if it were a patrol of soldiers, they left it alone and pretended to be simple hunters, if approached. Such was the bravery of the bandit trio.

“It’s getting even colder,” said Dritta and stood up,” I’m going to chop some more wood.”

“Ye do that, sis” nodded Ashad,” and I’ll get me some mead we took from that bard. Just can’t warm myself tonight. Sumthing’s in the air.” He stood up and wanted to take the mead out of the dead bard’s satchel but then…

… he saw it.

A few steps away from the camp, down the hill, a dark figure was standing still, like made of stone.

“Dritta, Borik! Over there! We got company!” Ashad pulled out his dagger and threateningly waved with it, warning the dark one to stay away.

“Just leave it,” said Dritta and continued chopping the wood without looking at the stranger. “There was enough action for today.”

But as Ashad was looking at the figure, he felt that something wasn’t right. It was just standing there, not reacting to his threats. He could see that it was hooded but he couldn’t tell whether it was men or mer, male or female.

“Sumthing’s odd here. Look, Borik, it just stands there!”

“Hmm…” grunted Borik and came closer. “Are you blind? I don't see anyone.”

“Look, it’s right…what? It’s gone!”

“You blind as Moth Priest, Ashad, he he he,” said Borik and patted his friend on the back.

“I tell ye it was there. I saw it! Ye saw it too, sis, right?”

“Nah, nah, I was chopping wood. You starting to imagine things, Ashad?”

“Oblivion take ye fools! It was there, I tell ye…LOOK! Over there. To the left!”

Both Dritta and Borik turned around and this time they saw it, standing just a few steps away from the camp, under a tree.

“I see it now,” slowly said Borik.

“Who’s blind now, ye idiot, eh? Take care of it while I warm myself, he he. Ye didn’t believe me, now go on and kill it. Don’t like it looking at me. Imagining things, eh?”

“Nah, leave it alone,” said Dritta, shaking her head. “It wears a hood, must be a mage. Let’s leave mages alone. They bring bad luck”

“Afraid of mages, you rabbit?” Borik asked scornfully. “But you’re good at slaying bards, eh?”

“Nah, it’s just that…where is it now?”

The trio turned in the direction of where the dark one was standing but there was no one under the tree.

“By Oblivion…”

“What the…”

“Is it playing with us?”

“We better be ready,” said Ashad, nervously looking around. ”It’s stalking us. Whoever sees it the next time it appears, attack and kill it! Don’t give it time to hide again!”

“Behind us!” shouted Dritta and both Ashad and Borik quickly turned around. This time it was above them, standing on a rock, watching them without a single motion. Ashad felt that he’s shaking and he hasn’t been shaking from fear for years.

“What do we do?” slowly asked Borik with his deep and not too intelligent voice.

“Killing a mage brings bad luck,” said Dritta, feeling uneasiness in her chest.

“We kill it…” started Ashad but he didn’t need to continue his sentence for the dark figure struck first. It made a sudden move with its left hand and a bound curved weapon appeared in its left hand. It took a run and made a swift jump, landing in the middle of the bandits.

“You picked a bad time to get lost, friend!” shouted Ashad and attacked the dark figure with his dagger.

“Gonna rip you…open!” Dritta joined him, her mace ready to crush a new skull.

Before Borik could even join his friends, the dark one made two swings with the dagger, each of them precise enough to cut throats of Ashad and his sister Dritta, living Borik the only survivor of the raiding party.

“Wh-what? AARGH! Time to die, hero!” Borik knew that he might be lost but he didn’t intend to die without a fight. Much to his surprise, the dark one jumped back and began running down the hill, trying to escape.

“Hah! Afraid of Uncle Borik, right? Go ahead, try and fight back!” Fat Borik ran down the hill and almost caught up with his attacker when it turned around and casted some spell on him that blinded him for a second. Borik expected that he will feel anything but nothing happened, there was just some odd blue-violet light glowing around him.

“Hah! Can’t even cast spells properly!” He swung his big battleaxe and managed to hit the dark one but it didn’t let a sound. He tried to look at its face but noticed there wasn’t just a hood over its head but a black cover as well, giving him a feeling that he’s fighting a man without a face.

"Gonna split your belly like an old woman's purse!" But in that second the dark one waved with its left hand, the magical dagger appeared again and one agile and elegant move directed at Borik's neck was enough to end his life. But there was more to it than merely cutting his throat. As he was falling to the ground, holding his bloody neck, knowing that it’s over, he felt his very soul fading away, leaving his strong body. Borik’s essence was sucked out and the last thing he saw, was the dark one holding a gem above his body, to where his soul was now being absorbed.

Silence fell on the camp of the dead. There was a woodcutter’s axe lying next to a chopping block, never to be lifted by Dritta again, there was an unopened bottle of mead, never to be drunk by Ashad, there was a huge battleaxe lying in the grass, never to be wielded by Borik again. The crackling fire was the only sound in this cold night on the 31st of Morning Star.

He heee hee I lvoe this! Love, I mean. The end is very epic, when you focus on the objects formerly used by those Forsworn. It's like a camera moving around the camp or something.

Renee nailed it - epic ending as you bring us full circle by reviewing the trappings (axe, mead, battleaxe) of the dark stranger's three victims. Nicely done, Lopov!

I know exactly where that camp is and figure those three got what they deserved.

Thank you both! I figured that adding some pics might be appropriate in such a story.

Renee, it was regular bandits, not Forsworn.

“May your soul rest in peace, Captain,” said Hexus Falvi, the first soldier of Ilinalta Patrol III, and closed eyelids of his superior, just killed by a feral wolf. “We’ll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil. Right?”

“We’ll make sure,” sluggishly said Baunus, the second soldier of Ilinalta Patrol III.

“We’ll make sure indeed,” dully repeated Taunus, the third soldier of Ilinalta Patrol III.

“As the oldest and most experienced soldier, I’m taking over Ilinalta Patrol III. Understood?” asked Hexus and looked at his new subordinates, expecting immediate confirmation.

The first bored voice said: “Understood.”

The second bored voice echoed: “Understood indeed.”

Hexus Falvi was satisfied. He has served in the Legion for a long time and for the first time he had his own group of soldiers under his command. Though not really a group but two young recruits whose main reason for joining the Legion was to have fun with tavern wenches in Skyrim which should according to rumors be quite “generous”, especially in Falkreath, but still, he was in charge and they should obey him. Maybe he’ll advance to Captain if he successfully returns the fallen superior’s body to the border from where it will be transported back to Cyrodiil. And maybe in a few years’ time he’ll control his own regiment, motivated by the motto “another day, another hundred septims.”

Each of them was deep in their thoughts, Hexus about his fruitful career that has just began, and Baunus and Taunus about how difficult and tedious will be carrying the corpse back to the border. All of them were oblivious of a threat rising behind them, a threat far more serious than a common wolf. They were so “occupied” that they didn’t hear a sound, after which a bound weapon appeared in the hand of the one watching them. Only when they heard a sound of someone landing behind them, Baunus turned his dull face around.

The bound dagger struck once, cutting through a first layer of Baunus’ studded armor, thus finally waking up Ilinalta Patrol III from their deep thoughts. As they unsheathed their dragon-engraved swords, the dark one ran up the hill to the forest. “For the Empire!” shouted Hexus Falvi, trying to encourage Baunus and Taunus. “Just a common wizard, nothing else! Let’s show him what does it mean to cross Ilinalta Patrol III!” The trio ran up the hill, their heavy armor slowing them down and Hexus thought that they lost the black-robed assailant but he was wrong, for the dark one was waiting for them a distance away, obviously not thinking about hiding. If Hexus could read its thoughts, he’d know that it intends to play a twisted game with them.

They rushed to it but the dark one jumped back, swung once, hit whoever soldier was the closest, then jumped back again and ran farther up the hill. At some point it’d turn around again, struck once and ran away and it didn’t take long for the soldiers to realize that the dark one was toying with them, leading them in circles around and up the hill. After a few swings Baunus’ studded armor was almost completely torn and when he was closest to the dark one, it cut through with ease, straight to Baunus’ heart. A few seconds later it made an unexpected and powerful swing directed at Taunus’ throat and he joined his former friend in death.

Hexus Falvi was all that remained of Ilinalta Patrol III and his career that seemed promising a few minutes ago, now seemed close to a premature end. However he was far more skilled than recruits and many times he successfully hit the black-robed attacker and although it didn’t let a sound out, Hexus saw its blood on his sword which filled him with courage and power. But he couldn’t foresee what the dark one had in plan. Running to Taunus’ body, it unleashed blue magic from its hands directly to the corpse and within seconds Hexus saw the former recruit standing up on his legs again, taking his sword from the mud, his head slowly turning around to his superior.

“Uhhhh….” The voice of the dead soldier echoed through the forest as Taunus woke up and walked again, this time with a new master. His eyes were as black as Void and his mind was no longer interested in wenches, no longer worried because of carrying the dead Captain to the border, for now his mind obeyed the new master, directly passing him orders of his new superior.

attack him… attack him… attack him…

Hexus Falvi felt sorry for the young recruit and it made him feel horrible when he had to raise his sword against him but there was no other option if he wanted to save his own life and fight for the Empire against the dark menace. Weak in life and weak in death, Taunus fell after a few strikes, his body turned to ashes. At the same time the dark one attacked from behind and dealt Hexus a powerful blow to his back. The pain was anguish but it was not enough to stop Hexus Falvi. He turned around, made a fast yet imprecise swing with his sword and hit the dark one with the blunt part – it staggered and for the first time Hexus seemed to hear some “Aah” from behind its black face cover. Hexus Falvi wanted to deal another, this time well-placed swing to his attacker but the dark one was quicker, it avoided the blow and swung at Hexus’ face, cutting his right cheek.

He staggered back, almost fell down the hill and when he finally managed to get control over his legs, he saw another gruesome scene – Baunus, awakened from dead, was running to him, his sword ready to spill blood of his former superior.

“Uhhhh…”

Hexus was exhausted and the pain in his back was barely tolerable. He blocked first Baunus’ strike, managed to avoid the second but the third one brought him to his knees. But Baunus, more powerful in death than in life, knew no remorse and mercy anymore. No longer he cared about his former friend or wenches from Falkreath.

stop… stop... stop…

Strike after strike,…

stop …stop …curse you!

Baunus finished off Hexus Falvi.

“Uhhhh…”

The dark one approached the corpse, looking at the mess. Dead could only be controlled to some extent and it shouldn’t end like this. It was supposed to end with capturing Falvi’s soul and grant him a new residence in a black gem, but the dark one overestimated Falvi, thinking that he will endure the battle with dead Baunus.

A lone rabbit was the only witness of what followed yet naturally it understood nothing. The dark one was walking by Lake Ilinalta, Hexus Falvi staggering behind it, and it seemed like the dark menace took Hexus on a final walk by the lake until his body crumbled to a pile of ashes, facing the same fate as Baunus, Taunus and the dead Captain. Wind was mild on that night but even a breath of air was enough to blow away ashes of Imperial soldiers to the lake, forever erasing what was once Ilinalta Patrol III.

And the Dark One strikes again! This time toying with a patrol of Legion soldiers and sharply abbreviating Hexus' short time in command. We see also that the darkly robed figure who favors bound blades is also quite the necromancer. How frightening to have one's former comrades raised against you! Once again, you create a dark and mysterious mood with this that tantalizes with questions.

I read this thinking "uh oh, something's about to happen!" Anticipation. All those soldiers are so preoccupied and bored! Raising dead is addictive.

Today, J'Zirlo the Tank-Cat walked between the three Hearthfire houses...

What?...You don't expect me to actually remember the names of them, do you?... ...It's been months since I played any Skyrim!... ...

Aaaamywho, ticked all the boxes - Explored a dungeon; killed some Ghosts(!!!); sold some chizz and even took the opportunity to Kiw-De-Dwaaagon!!! for old time's sake... ...

All this while walking in a mostly straight line from Falkreath to near-as-damn-it Whiterun and then from there to Morthal-ish...

Much fun!!...It's nice to have missed a game when you get back into it, no?...

Ha ha ha at least you have all 3 HF houses. I know of Proudspire Manor because my crusader guy bought it long ago, but I have no idea what the names of the other two places are, or where they are.

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

Claire Voyance is currently in Halted Stream Camp, taking care of some bandits with Aela the Huntress. Farkas stayed behind in Jorrvaskr; attempting to conquer Halted Stream with him around would make things way too easy. After HSC, Claire is going to head to Windhelm to deliver an axe to Ulfric.

She keeps wondering why people keep calling her 'Dragonborn', they obviously are confusing her with someone else. There's gotta be a mod for this....

McB, I hope J’Zirlo the Tank-Cat doesn’t get any troll goo stuck in his treads as he travels Skyrim. So glad you’re back and enjoying Tamriel!

Renee – Yay for Claire! I hope she and her Companions really slaughter those disgusting mammoth poachers at Halted Stream Camp. Terminate them with righteous fury!

Ba-Bum-TISH!!!... ...



Well, we've been walking the wilds, and so far, despite thinking I'd found and done everything - at least, everything I was going to do that wasn't *flipping Daedric quests - I've since managed to find three or four new locations, out in the wilds where I'd never walked...See!...Fast travel is bad for you!!!... ...

Also, I managed to find an upturned cart of books!!!...I suspect there was more skill books in there, but ones I didn't need...A couple of them worked though...So yeah, that was a nice surprise...

I am very much enjoying this return...Considering J'Zirlo is 220 hours+ now, I'm glad that the game still has something to offer...

...

Thanks!

Even more than skooma.

It'll be interesting to read about the Civil War from the viewpoint of a cleric.

Never came upon this cart yet but I agree that there are many things in Skyrim to be discovered even after many hours.

--

Ihjizz was never particularly clever. Even for bandit’s standards, he was quite dumb. Together with some drunk Imperial whose name Ihjizz couldn’t remember because it was too complicated, they were thinking of making a fortune by ambushing travelers passing under the Pinewatch Bridge. The idea as such wasn’t that bad, even the location was appropriate for ambushes because travelers could be spotted from afar. But a mead-addict and a skooma-addict together didn’t make a really good team, not to mention that the road was frequently patrolled by soldiers, and not to mention that even greenhorn adventurers could easily defeat two ordinary bandits.

To make things worse, the drunk Imperial fell from the bridge the other day and broke his neck, so Ihjizz was now entirely on his own. He only checked whether the Imperial’s neck was truly broken, then took his septims and some arrows but didn’t bother to drag his corpse away or even bury it, he left it lying in the middle of the road, hoping that it would attract looters which he could attack from his outpost above the bridge. But roads have been unusually empty for the past few days. Even a patrol of Imperial soldiers, that was a common sight in these parts, obviously changed its route.

The night of the 7th of Sun’s Dawn was cold and misty, and Ihjizz was grateful for having fur instead of skin for it kept him warm. As usually during nights, he was awake, standing next to a brazier, waiting for possible targets to arrive. He didn’t think that standing next to the well-lit brazier made him more visible and that anyone approaching would see him sooner than Ihjizz’d see them.

“...might pay off my bounty this time... walk into the city a free man...” he thought but then remembered that Khajiits aren’t allowed inside cities in Skyrim. “But we’re allowed in jails! Damned Nords!”

“...need me some Skooma... the imported stuff... just one last time…” he thought but then remembered that sucking skooma on such heights might not be wise else he could fall down and break his neck just as the Imperial.

“...hmph, wizards... Now that's power... Bet they got that "secret" magic... can turn wood to gold... yeah... Wish I could turn wood to gold...” he thought but then remembered that Khajiits generally don’t make good wizards. “Too bad, I could be the richest Khajiit if I turned every single tree I see here to gold and…Huh? Is someone there?”

Ihjizz heard footsteps below him and quickly leaned over the wooden fence of his outpost.
“WHAT? How can this be?”

Ihjizz thought that his eyes were deceiving him when he saw the supposedly dead Imperial walking under the bridge. His moves were insecure and slow but then he stopped and slowly turned his head in Ihjizz’s direction, greeting him with the echoing “Uhhh…” sound.

“So you were just pretending to be dead, eh? He he he, you’re even more stupid than I thought! How could you lie so still for so lon…AUCH!” He didn’t finish the sentence because the Imperial with a broken neck aimed his bow at Ihjizz and fired an arrow, hitting him directly in his hairy right shoulder.

“Now you pay, drunkard!” Ihjizz avoided the second arrow and quickly pulled out his own bow, hardly waiting to return a favor. "Time to die, hero!" His shots were well placed and after being hit for the second time, the Imperial crumbled to ashes.

“Huh? I had no idea that my arrows are magical?” Ihjizz examined them but they were just common iron arrows. “Then how is this possible? But of course! He he he, I know! Ihjizz is such a superb archer that his shots turn people to ashes! Nothing can stand in my way, nothing! Ha! But still…how come that this hasn’t happened before? Hmmm…eh, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Ihjizz can turn people to ashes with a single strike! Huh? Is someone there?”

Ihjizz felt a spell casted at him and blue strips began circling around him and though he felt no pain, it seemed like the blue magic was tightening his body. He turned around, pulling his dagger out at the same time, and that was when he saw someone in black robes crouched right behind his back, a dagger in its hands, one that Ihjizz has never seen. For half a second he wondered how it was possible that he didn’t hear or see the dark one sneaking behind him. In the next half of the same second, he remembered that it’d be wise to watch both sides of the Pinewatch Road in the future, not just one. But there was no future for Ihjizz.

“You picked a bad time to get l…UURGH!” Another sentence never finished but after this one Ihjizz never talked again. The bound dagger swung twice and when it struck for the second time, unnatural blue light shined around Ihjizz, so intense that even bandits at Helgen and guards at Falkreath saw it. As Ihjizz fell over the fence and bounced on a rock below, his essence, his very soul, was being absorbed to a magical gem in his assassin’s hand. As he fell on the ground, breaking his neck, the soul was no longer in his body. The dark one admired the gem for a few seconds, almost hearing cries of Ihjizz’s soul inside, begging for release, and then put it in a satchel beneath its black robe. It smiled silently behind its face cover, but this smile wasn’t kind or warm, yet evil and triumphant. Taking a jump from the bridge, the dark one landed firmly on the road below like a skilled acrobat and sprinted up the road, disappearing in the night.

Fires were burning in braziers, brightening an ash pile and the dead Khajiit next to it. Sooner or later some adventurer would pass under the Pinewatch Bridge and lighten the Ihjizz of his belongings. Sooner or later another group of bandits would come to this area, toss Ihjizz’s corpse in the woods and take over the bridge. Sooner or later Ihjizz would rot and become a skeleton. But even then his soul would not be free.

Lopov, this was dark, mysterious and actually hilarious all at the same time! I loved how much you did with the witless Khajiit and how he perceived things around him. Using the in-game bandit lines as he talked to himself was a nice touch. Despite the dark theme, I imagine you had great fun writing this! Soul trapping in Skyrim has some very cool effects.

I'm sure I'll think about this little story every time Buffy snipes those Pinewatch Bridge bandits.

I just went past there on my way to construct Lakeview with my latest character. She's built like Gilda (except that she's a Redguard), so she doesn't use a bow, but she had Rayya with her, and she does. Both bandits were lying beneath the bridge before they'd even registered on the compass! It would appear that the housecarl default bow outclasses their firepower quite a bit at low levels.

So we continued to the site, put up the entryway and main hall, and I left Rayya on-site as steward, while I took the new girl off to destroy the Dark Brotherhood. She's a sneak/backstab specialist, so she wanted the Blade of Woe, and took it from Astrid at the first opportunity. That meant the path through that quest-line was the short one.

We'll probably have to put Soul Trap (or its Fiery cousin) on another dagger for her other hand, as the Blade of Woe doesn't hold many charges, and she's not finding enough pre-filled gems. She hasn't found anything with the right enchantment yet.

This character wasn't really intended to get a life of her own, but I'd made a "vanilla as possible" save at the Helgen exit to help make test characters for the Orc Stronghold mod, which I need to re-start from the beginning a lot. But this one, and another pure mage one (minimum weight, reduced height, Nord), have gone off doing their own thing, and have ignored me trying to steer them to the Orc quests.

The latter is now Arch-mage, and hasn't met any Orcs but Urag. I intended her to use Illusion more, but find the spells available make it hard to level up the skill. Most won't work on the opponents she meets because of their level limits, or are only useful when there's multiple opponents, and she can Fury/Frenzy without being spotted, which isn't often, as she doesn't sneak very well. I suspect that school of magic may better suit a thief than a mage. So she's back as the "Destruction for offence, Alteration for Defence" build I've done before. Her game may not get continued much.

Illusion mind control stuff does pair nicely with a stealthy mage like Buffy. Dual casting the mind control spells dramatically improves their potency (as far as level of foes affected). But the mind control side of illusion is definitely an 'all or none' proposition - fully perk it, dual cast it and work on leveling the skill. Oh, and the stealthy mind control user tactics don't play well with companions; it just asks too much of them when you cause a big fight but expect them to silently sit back and watch with you.

It was using Muffle on dungeon diving stuff that sent my Illusion up fairly quick...

J'Zirlo is now Level 67!...Aweome tank-cat!!!... ...

Currently just walking from Whiterun to Riften...'Cause that's just what you do, i'n't it?...

I've already been attacked by a random Imperial with a swag goatee, so hey, today's going well... ...

Spoiler Alert!

McB, yay for J’Zirlo and welcome back! I know exactly which cart you mean -- awesome find!

Renee, good luck to Stormcloak Claire. The only mod I found for that looked iffy, so I didn’t risk it. It’s “You Are Not the Dragonborn” or something like that on the Nexus.

ghastley, I’m glad I’m not the only one with unruly test characters. I think the Nord who became Arch-Mage while only meeting one orc must be some kind of record. I love it when characters say nope and just take off on their own.

Lopov, I especially enjoyed the closeup of doomed Ihjizz’s face. What a great update! I loved it!

Thanks! Indeed, I had fun writing it, sometimes writing is even more fun than gaming.
Thanks! Ihjizz should know better and watch both sides of the road.

In the following story there are some pics of people with underwear - nothing too revealing, mostly vanilla stuff. But if it offends someone, then don't click on the pics. Also, the dark one might be difficult to spot in two or three pics.
--
Gord… was bored.

But being on guard at night had its advantages – the pay was better and he didn’t need to sleep next to his nagging wife who snored worse than an Orc Matriarch. Fortunately, not many visitors came to Falkreath during days and even less during nights, and lately there weren’t many battles between the Legion and Stormcloaks going on in the hold, so Gord’s job was quite simple. Besides, there were other guards doing rounds in Falkreath, so in case something bad happened, he’d get help immediately.

But how can defend himself not against the bad but against the worst?

It jumped from a hill east of the gates, almost invisible in the dark night. Gord didn’t notice it at all. Not long after, while he was still thinking about how calm that night is, someone was sneaking up to him…

Vigg was another guard on duty that night and his assignment was to patrol the main road leading through Falkreath. Not long after the black shadow rose over Falkreath, he came to the east gate but his friend Gord wasn’t at his usual post.

“Hmm…where did Gord go? Maybe behind a tree to answer the call of Kynareth he he he. He should be back soon.”

And Vigg was right. When he came to the east gate twenty minutes later, Gord was indeed there, guarding the gate, standing at his post as he was supposed to.

“Everything all right, Gord?” asked Vigg.

“Mhmm,” he heard from under Gord’s helmet.

“Good. Same here. It’s a quiet night, isn’t it? If only my knee wouldn’t hurt so much because of that arrow I took the other day. I already told you that I used to be an adventurer, right?”

Gord said nothing. Vigg waited for a few seconds, hoping for another chance to tell Gord about his adventuring days but it seemed that he wasn’t in a right mood.

“Khajiit got your tongue?” asked Vigg, still not losing hope that Gord might take pity on him and allow him to brag about his past deeds.

Just one “Mhmm,” came from under Gord’s helmet.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you about it some other day. I’m sure you still don’t know that I single-handedly killed almost two giants once?”

Silence.

Vigg rolled his eyes and decided to do another round, maybe guard at the west gates will be more interested in his tales. But as Vigg was walking down the road, passing the carriage driver, the silent guard slowly turned around and left his usual post. He was walking behind his “friend” Vigg, continuing down the main road, passing the carriage driver, heading straight to inner Falkreath.

At that time Kust, a monk working at the Temple of Arkay, was returning from the Dead Man’s Drink when he met two guards, the first one was Vigg who greeted Kust in his usual manner and the second one was another male who didn’t pay any attention to Kust. As he passed both of them, he stopped and turned around, looking at the second guard. “Hmm...this guard…he sure is a slim one.” Kust knew all guards from Falkreath and although he couldn’t know who was behind a helmet, because all of them had to wear fully closed helmets when on duty, he knew that most of them were muscular.

“Maybe we have a new guard in town. But why do I get a feeling that this guard wanted to avoid me when he saw me passing in his direction. Odd.” He looked at the guard one more time but he was already too far, close to Grave Concoctions. “Yeah, he’s a man, that’s for sure. But there’s something else about him that doesn’t feel right…what is it, damn it? Ah, well, I better go to sleep, I’m just paranoid. I see intruders everywhere because of this bloody war!”

Dorman, a guard in charge of guarding exterior of bootlicker Jarl Siddgeir’s longhouse, saw the silent guard, and just like Kust he noticed that he is very slim and that his fur boots were obviously too big for him because he had some trouble walking in them. For the same reasons as Kust, Dorman couldn’t know who was behind the helmet, but he didn’t seem familiar. As the guard went behind the corner of Jarl’s longhouse, Dorman suddenly remembered something that he saw when the guard passed under a lantern. “Hold on,” he thought, “just hold on for a second, Dorman. This guard had…!”

Not even a scream of pain was heard in the dark night when the bound dagger played its deadly song again, so sweet and pleasant to his wielder.

When Vigg later returned down the main road, disappointed because even the guard at west gate wasn’t interested in a tale of how he once decapitated an undead chicken that threatened Riverwood, he noticed that Dorman was gone from outside the longhouse but didn’t pay much attention to it. “He’s probably inside to see if Jarl Siddgeir is still breathing, long live the Empire!” In his worst dreams Vigg couldn’t imagine that Dorman was no longer alive, his throat cut, his corpse hidden behind an alchemy shop.

As he continued his route to the east gates, the slim guard came from behind the shop, Dorman’s blood still dripping from his hands. He crouched in front of the alchemy shop and unleashed fire from his hands, burning the lock of Grave Concoctions. The doorknob was still hot when he touched it and silently sneaked inside…

He quickly found what was he looking for – a common potion of cure disease. Although he was used to sleep during days and roam during nights, he didn’t want to become a bloodsucker after being bitten by a master vampire at the Shriekwind Bastion. He knew very well that potions were his only means of healing because Divines cursed him long ago, just as they did anyone else that lived a life like his.



Beside the potion there was something else that got his attention. Zaria, the proprietor, was sleeping quietly; not having the faintest idea about the man in guard’s armor watching her so close that she could almost feel his breath on her body.

After watching her for some time, playing with ideas what he could do to her to make her surprised in the morning, the man in guard’s armor silently unbuttoned the Falkreath cape on his back and slowly placed it over Zaria’s body, buttoning it up in front of her neck. Zaria flinched, feeling something but the man in guard’s armor was a skilled one and with his skills it wasn’t difficult to gently place the cape over her body without waking her up.

But he didn’t do it to make her comfortable or warm. No, no, he did it to prove to himself that he could do it. A twisted smile was playing on his lips behind the closed helmet helmet as he was slowly stepping backwards out of the shop, admiring Zaria’s body in the cape with an emblem of the deer’s head.

Twenty minutes later armor of Falkreath was tossed on a ground next to dead Gord and his assassin already changed back to his black outfit. Leaving Falkreath, he walked up the main road, satisfied with him. It was all about to get the potion but why not make it a little more interesting than merely stealing it?

Because life without walking on the edge is not worth living.

Lopov, certainly a. . . different approach to potion shopping. I chuckled over the guard’s tale of battling an undead chicken. The Dark One does indeed seem to be motivated by something evil, yet here we did learn that he is not a bloodsucker. The mystery continues.

As soon as 'Gord' came back 20 minutes later I was thinking it's gotta be the dark one, imitating the former Gord! Hehe heaha. I like the guard who wants to brag with someone, problem is nobody wants to hear his stupid tales.

What a creepy story, Scoundrel. I mean that as a compliment. That's more creepy than the time Mycharonna murdered most of the residents of Karthwasten long ago.

In that second pic, is the dark one way in the background? I think I see a shadow of a figure way back near that big rock. Aw, he gives her his cape at the end. That must be nice.

Thank you both.

Acadian, true, he's not a vampire and if he wasn't infected at the Shriekwind Bastion, the whole adventure in Falkreath probably wouldn't occur at all, it wasn't in plan, so to speak.

You're probably right, Renee, but I brightened up the second pic so you can see him easier behind Gord, having just jumped from the rock.

It was a fine sunny day in Falkreath Hold, a day for joy and song, a day for adventure and fortune, and Talsgar the Wanderer was walking down the road by Lake Ilinalta, composing a new song in his mind, one that should be about love instead of war. There've been too many battle songs sung all over Skyrim already and Talsgar wanted to offer his audience something different, something bright, trying to tell the world that while wars pass with time, love lasts forever.

But it was difficult to concentrate and think about beauty when on almost every step he found proofs of battling. This time he was distracted by an ash pile in the grass on his left. Talsgar stepped closer and noticed a lot of jewelry lying in the ash pile. The bard knew that once the body turns to ash, it is only the body that is destroyed while anything else remains untouched. He couldn't help but feel sad for whoever this person was before becoming...ash.

"Rest in peace, unknown traveler," said Talsgar and stood up. He may snatch a thing or two in his young days but now that he was older and wiser, he never stole anything and he never took anything from the dead. He found it odd that whoever turned this person to ash, didn't take its shining trinkets as it was customary for Skyrim's bandits and necromancers. He felt sadness in his heart as he moved further on, to Falkreath.

A few hours earlier...

"Come along, no more stops, we need to find our way to Solitude!" said Plautius Carvain, scolding his wife because she wanted to stop again to "catch some breath", as she used to say.

"Why are we even going to a wedding at this far flung end of the Empire anyway?" asked Salonia Carvain, regretting the decision that she decided to accompany her husband on some Nord's wedding all the way to the north of Tamriel.

"I told you, it's the wedding of Vittoria Vicci, an extremely well connected merchant with the East Empire Company. The Emperor's cousin? Remember? Hopefully these gifts will put us in her good graces, secure that import deal, and lead the way to an audience with the Emperor," answered Plautius, annoyed that he had to tell his wife at least one hundred times that it is very important for his, actually for their future, to attend the wedding.

The Carvains were nobles of Bruma and they made their living as merchants. Plautius hailed from the well-known Carvain family that used to rule over Bruma in the past, and he was a very successful merchant. But that was before the Great War. Many things changed for him afterwards and he made some unwise deals that cost him a fortune, so it was crucial for him to get in touch with people of importance because he knew that only a partnership with a good standing company can save his financial troubles. To make sure that Vittoria Vicci would remember him and perhaps introduce him to the Emperor, he took the finest jewelry from his family's treasury, hoping to make the good impression which shall mark the beginning of a fruitful partnership.

They were traveling with a bodyguard from Bruma but his grumpy wife Salonia was convinced that the guard fancied her and she convinced Plautius to dismiss him so they've been traveling alone since ruins of Helgen. It shouldn't last long, though, because Plautius hired a carriage in advance that was waiting for them in Falkreath. Not only because they got lost way too often but also because he was tired of his wife's complaining. It was the cheapest possible carriage so it probably won't be too comfortable but anything was better than more walking and listening to Salonia.

They passed the dark one without noticing him. Even during daytime, his black robes blended with dark rocks of Skyrim. As soon as he laid his eyes on them, their fate was sealed.

...

"Let's rest for a while!" said Salonia and stopped walking. "I need to catch some breath!"

"Alright, alright, but only for a few minutes, understand? I hired a carriage for us in Falkreath and I don't want that it departs without us because you're catching for breath ever since we left Bruma?"

"Then why haven't you hired the carriage from Bruma?"

"Because...well, you know, that we couldn't afford it! The ones in Skyrim are much cheaper."

"But certainly not as luxurious. I have a feeling that they're covered in mud and dirt."

"We will get through it, okay? Once we're in Falkreath, we won't need to walk anymore and within a few days..."

"Plautius! Behind you! He has a knife!"

Plautius turned around and in that time the bound dagger struck but by sheer luck Plautius began running and thus avoided the killing blow.

"Run, Salonia, run! To the forest! I will deal with him. I hope!"

Neither Plautius nor Salonia were fighters and he immediately regretted listening to his wife for dismissing the loyal bodyguard. He heard footsteps behind him and he knew that the dark figure was catching up. Suddenly he felt strong pull as the dark attacker grabbed him for his long, well-groomed hair, and forcefully turned him around. Plautius was blinded by blue magic directed at him. He closed his eyes and put hands in front of his face, hoping for his attacker's mercy. The last thing he felt was a sharp, sharp pain.

...
....
.....

"Plautius?" quietly asked Salonia, hiding behind a tree. "Is this you?" She heard someone walking in her directions but she saw no one. Whoever it was, it was walking very slowly.

"Plautius, is it you? Say something."

Salonia carefully peeked from behind the tree and sighed with relief. "It's you! I was so afraid! Where did..."

She stopped in the middle of the sentence.

A huge cut over Plautius' throat told her that something wasn't right. Plautius was standing there, watching her like entranced, his fine clothes covered in blood.

"Uhhh..." He might have feared battles when alive but in death Plautius was much more courageous and he pulled out his Imperial sword, his mind focused on one thing only - to kill the being in front of him.

"Plautius, no! What are you doing? Somebody help!"

Salonia felt like in a nightmare as she was trying to escape from Plautius' deadly swings. But it was in vain. With a large knapsack on her back and not enough air to breathe, her dead husband was behind her in seconds...

...
....
....

"Most obedient corpse you have been," said the dark one to Plautius as he was waiting for new orders, like a well-trained soldier. But a few seconds later, he crumbled to ashes and as his body dissipated, it was only his fur-trimmed clothes and shining gifts from his family's treasure that remained in the ash pile that was once Plautius Carvain, a successful merchant from Bruma.

The dark one was holding another black gem in his hand, another soul stolen, another essence gained.

"Fair lady, what about you?" the dark assassin asked Salonia's corpse. "For a walk, let's go, shall we?"

Pure evil (but clever ) using the the guy's corpse to kill the wife. I guess there'll be a couple empty chairs at that big royal wedding in Solitude. Neat how you opened with Talsgar finding the dead guy's ash pile.