CHAPTER TWO
Before I left I made sure I had all I would need to accompany me on my journey to the West Weald. It wasn’t nothing much, because a good thief never carried more than he had to, because he, or she I suppose, wants to stay silent and move as quick and agile as possible. And the more things a thief carries, the more noise they will make and the more slowly they will move.
The only items I had where ten lock picks, a silver short sword, a silver bow with iron silver arrows, and a small pouch containing maps of every city in Cyrodiil. I used to have a huge map of the regions as well, but I lost it somewhere long ago. And of course I had the amulet, tucked safely away in my left pants pocket.
Now, if I asked you what I was wearing you would probably say a black robe with a black hood to go with it, am I right? Well you would be terribly wrong with that statement. That is completely cliché and I absolutely hate it when I hear people claim that all the best thieves wear black. There is no fact to that opinion, thus meaning “opinion”, one that is full of nothing but horse manure, very smelly horse manure.
In fact, I actually try to blend in with the people around me, because I am a thief that is not afraid to steal in the light of day. I wear whatever suits me at the time, whether it be a simple blue robe, or even an expensive doublet. Staying comfortable is what matters to me, that’s all. Right now I am wearing huntsmans leather pants, along with a dark green shirt. And finally I’m wearing an old pair of brown quilted shoes, so I can sneak around silently, and a dark brown green hood as well.
After double checking to make sure I had everything I would need, I set out to the North West, towards Chorrol. I did not bring any food with me because it would only weigh me down, plus I would have had to bring a sack with me, and I really didn’t want the burden of that. I’d just eat somewhere along the way, at an inn or something.
Just a few minutes after I left the house rain began pouring down from the gray clouded sky. It was already dark, a little after eight o’clock in the evening, and the rain was making it even more difficult to travel. I could barely see in front of me, but I did see about ten torches or so that seemed not too far ahead of me, up on a hill.
I quietly ascended up the slope until I reached the top, where I hid behind a large wet boulder, carefully poking my head out to see who the torches’ owners were. Just as I had feared, it was yet again another Mythic Dawn patrol. Ever since Mankar had taken over he’s had his men spread all across the land, no doubt in search for the amulet.
Now that I think about, I was very surprised the Council had not intervened with what was going on. Perhaps they were talking with Mankar, trying to come to a compromise with the elf, but if he was anything like I thought he was they were wasting their time. He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted, and the scary part is that I don’t know what that is.
It’s not surprising that the other countries haven’t sent aid, for they are likely too afraid to do so, especially if the Mythic Dawn has not yet set foot on their own territory. Plus, the Empire’s reputation isn’t actually positive. We’ve made quiet a few enemies and unfortunately that’s going to hurt us dearly in this time of need. The other cities of Cyrodiil had to have been overrun by the Mythic Dawn. Since the Legion was so soundly defeated in the Imperial City, I would have a hard time believing one of the smaller cities could fend off the cult horde.
And now, back to the Mythic Dawn patrol. They were walking southward, thankfully in the opposite direction of my destination. I was hoping to hear them say something, possibly a clue to why they are taking over, but no, nothing but silence was what I received. So I waited for them to pass, and once they were out of sight I continued on my way.
The rain never did stop that night, and by dawn I was completely drenched from head to toe. The rain had come down so hard, and at an unusual sort of horizontal angle, the water splashed onto my face the entire time. It was a miserable trip indeed, but oh well. Nature is nature, there’s no controlling the weather. Well, actually there is, by using some sort of magical book or something, according to some crazy woman up in Chorrol I heard about. But that’s a whole different story in itself.
At about nine o’clock in the morning, I spotted a small inn. I had been traveling through the forests the entire time, rather than the road where I could easily spotted, and I was very surprised to have seen the inn in the first place. But apparently I must’ve been traveling closer to the road than I had originally thought, because the inn was on the edge of a dirt path.
I walked inside the building and saw four people, two who posed a major threat. There was a Breton inn keeper, who was busy talking to an elderly Imperial man, and then there were two Mythic Dawn members, sitting at a table in the left corner. When I saw them I immediately wanted to turn and leave, but unfortunately they saw me, and I couldn’t take a chance of leaving so soon. It would be too suspicious.
Instead, I walked up to the keeper and asked for a room for the day. I paid the Breton ten gold pieces and took my key. While I turned to walk up the stairs, I noticed the Dawn members were watching me closely, too close for my comfort. So rather than walk up stairs, I changed my mind and sat at a table after ordering a round of ale. I wanted to see if the Dawn did anything while I sat there. I wanted to see if they kept watching me. If I was lucky, they would cease with their stares, but something told me that wasn’t going to happen. I had no doubt in my mind the Dawn were going around questioning everyone in the land. And since they had not yet contacted me, it appeared my turn was soon to come.
For ten minutes I sat and drank, saying a few words every so often to the keeper and his friend. I did not want to look too fishy, so I figured talking a bit would only help. After another five minutes they were still eying me, and now they were starting to whisper. It was time to act.
I got up from my seat and walked up the stairs. Just as I had thought they would, the Dawn members got from their seat as well, and I could sense that they were following me. When I got up the stairs, I hid around the corner, waiting for the two robed men, for I already had a plan.
I quietly unsheathed my short sword and stood waiting. Then, when the first one arrived, I quickly shoved the blade through his stomach and shoved him back into his partner, and they both fell down the stairs. The man that I had stabbed was dead, and he was on top of the other. The remaining robed man was having a difficult time getting up, so I took advantage of the situation. He tried to cast a spell at me but it missed by at least two feet. Swiftly I got out my long bow and flung an arrow that hit the man dead in the forehead.
The keeper and his friend ran from their positions and examined the dead bodies, as if they had belief that they might still be alive. When they checked their pulses and realized they were dead, they looked up at me with a horror struck expression.
“What on earth did you do that for, you dumb fool? Don’t you know who you just killed?” The keeper of the inn was totally horrified by what I had done, but the old man had not a clue of what was going. He didn’t know I was holding the Amulet of Kings in my possession, but I couldn’t blame him.
I said nothing to the two, but walked down the stairs, snatching up by blade from the assassin’s stomach as I went. I was going to leave the place but the keeper grabbed my left shoulder and turned me around, rather violently I might say. The move took my by surprise and with a fast move I brought my blade up to the man’s throat, holding it in place only mere centimeters from his skin.
Again I said nothing, only because I didn’t want to compromise my position. I didn’t want to take chance on saying something I shouldn’t. Letting anyone know of what I was carrying would be suicide. Talos knows they would go to the nearest Dawn member and tell them of my whereabouts. Now that I thought about it, the keeper and his friend just might do that anyway. Great, now I had a decision to make.
Do I kill them and eliminate the chance of being ratted out? Or do I let them go and I hope they aren’t a bunch of old snitches? It wasn’t that I was afraid of killing them, I have no conscience as far as I’m concerned, hence my occupation as a thief, but I didn’t want to spill any blood that wasn’t absolutely necessary. After all, I am no murderer. I steal valuables, not life.
Ultimately I decided to let the men go; I’d just have to hope they’d keep their mouths shut. So I took the blade away from his throat, glared into his eyes for a few seconds, and then left before anything else could happen. I would not be stopping the entire day. Something told me the men wouldn’t stay silent for long, so I had to get to priory before I was caught.
I marched for nearly five more hours, through the thick trees of the forest of course, and along the way I encountered no other patrols, only a few deer and a couple of wolves, whom I was successfully able to sneak around without bringing attention to myself.
Finally I arrived at a place where there were two buildings. One looked to be a house, and the other a chapel. I read a small wooded sign that said: Weynon Priory. I was going to walk up to the building and knock on the door, but there wasn’t one. Instead there was only an open entrance leading inside.
I walked through space and saw that the place was totally trashed. Books, bowls and other items were lying everywhere. Loose leaflets of paper were taking up most of the floor, and I noticed blood stains accompanied them as well. That’s when I spotted body in the upper right corner of the room. It was a Breton man, with an iron arrow sticking out from the right side of his chest. I checked his pulse, and of course he was dead. I don’t even know why I checked. I wanted to think this was the man I was looking for, but from what I had heard, the man I was looking for had gray hair. I don’t know where I heard that from, but somehow I almost knew it.
There was a set of stairs and I walked up the second floor, and took a right. In the next room there were two Mythic Dawn members lying on the floor dead. Then, right beside a desk that was in the room, a body of a gray-haired Breton was lying on his side.
I ran over to the man and he was actually alive! I couldn’t believe it, the man, whom I assumed was the man I was coming for, was actually here right in front of me. He looked at me questionably and fearfully, as if I was the enemy.
“No need to worry, I’m not one of them,” I said, pointing over to the fallen Dawn members.
He almost smiled a bit, and then coughed, spitting up a big clot of blood that splattered against the floor and splashed back up into his face. He was too drained to wipe the sticky liquid from his face, so I did him the honors and used a nearby peace of cloth to wipe it away.
“Thank you Bosmer, but I’m afraid that won’t stop my soon-to-be-death. Who are you anyway?”
I told him my name and what I was holding in my pocket. He was very surprised to see that it had not yet fallen into the wrong hands. He told me that they came to his house yesterday morning, demanding to have the amulet, but of course he did not have it.
“What should I do? Is there anyone out there who can help me?” I asked man, whose named was Jauffre.
“Travel…travel to the city of Kvatch. Find an Imperial by the name of Martin. He will be able to help you. I…I personally sought him out just a day ago. I am the only who knows this, but…he is the last heir to the Septim bloodline. He is the son of Uriel Septim, and it took some time to make him believe me. I told him to stay in hiding for a while, because obviously the Mythic Dawn poses him a major threat. Thank…fully….they don’t yet know of his legitimacy to the throne. He alone can help you. What are your plans exactly?”
“I guess destroy the amulet so that Mankar cannot get his hands on it.” I replied. Apparently that wasn’t the answer Jauffre was looking for.
“NO, no, no! Do NOT destroy the amulet,” he yelled, and then coughed up some blood once more. “You…you must preserve it at all costs. I do not have the answers, but Martin can help you. Again I say…guard that amulet with your life. I do not know you Bosmer, but you and Martin are Cyrodiil’s only hope. Also, I do not know Mankar’s intentions…but obviously he wants that amulet. You cannot let him get his hands on it. Do you understand?”
I nodded to the man, and slowly his eyes closed, for the last time. He was dead, and I was still as confused as I was when I first arrived at the priory. So far I had yet to learn anything, only that I was now on another manhunt, this time for an Imperial named Martin. Hopefully he would be able to shed some light on what was going to happen with Mankar and his cult. Maybe then this Martin and I could come up with a plan to stop him from whatever his plans were. Too bad things never tend to work out that easily.
On to the next chapter
Before I left I made sure I had all I would need to accompany me on my journey to the West Weald. It wasn’t nothing much, because a good thief never carried more than he had to, because he, or she I suppose, wants to stay silent and move as quick and agile as possible. And the more things a thief carries, the more noise they will make and the more slowly they will move.
The only items I had where ten lock picks, a silver short sword, a silver bow with iron silver arrows, and a small pouch containing maps of every city in Cyrodiil. I used to have a huge map of the regions as well, but I lost it somewhere long ago. And of course I had the amulet, tucked safely away in my left pants pocket.
Now, if I asked you what I was wearing you would probably say a black robe with a black hood to go with it, am I right? Well you would be terribly wrong with that statement. That is completely cliché and I absolutely hate it when I hear people claim that all the best thieves wear black. There is no fact to that opinion, thus meaning “opinion”, one that is full of nothing but horse manure, very smelly horse manure.
In fact, I actually try to blend in with the people around me, because I am a thief that is not afraid to steal in the light of day. I wear whatever suits me at the time, whether it be a simple blue robe, or even an expensive doublet. Staying comfortable is what matters to me, that’s all. Right now I am wearing huntsmans leather pants, along with a dark green shirt. And finally I’m wearing an old pair of brown quilted shoes, so I can sneak around silently, and a dark brown green hood as well.
After double checking to make sure I had everything I would need, I set out to the North West, towards Chorrol. I did not bring any food with me because it would only weigh me down, plus I would have had to bring a sack with me, and I really didn’t want the burden of that. I’d just eat somewhere along the way, at an inn or something.
Just a few minutes after I left the house rain began pouring down from the gray clouded sky. It was already dark, a little after eight o’clock in the evening, and the rain was making it even more difficult to travel. I could barely see in front of me, but I did see about ten torches or so that seemed not too far ahead of me, up on a hill.
I quietly ascended up the slope until I reached the top, where I hid behind a large wet boulder, carefully poking my head out to see who the torches’ owners were. Just as I had feared, it was yet again another Mythic Dawn patrol. Ever since Mankar had taken over he’s had his men spread all across the land, no doubt in search for the amulet.
Now that I think about, I was very surprised the Council had not intervened with what was going on. Perhaps they were talking with Mankar, trying to come to a compromise with the elf, but if he was anything like I thought he was they were wasting their time. He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted, and the scary part is that I don’t know what that is.
It’s not surprising that the other countries haven’t sent aid, for they are likely too afraid to do so, especially if the Mythic Dawn has not yet set foot on their own territory. Plus, the Empire’s reputation isn’t actually positive. We’ve made quiet a few enemies and unfortunately that’s going to hurt us dearly in this time of need. The other cities of Cyrodiil had to have been overrun by the Mythic Dawn. Since the Legion was so soundly defeated in the Imperial City, I would have a hard time believing one of the smaller cities could fend off the cult horde.
And now, back to the Mythic Dawn patrol. They were walking southward, thankfully in the opposite direction of my destination. I was hoping to hear them say something, possibly a clue to why they are taking over, but no, nothing but silence was what I received. So I waited for them to pass, and once they were out of sight I continued on my way.
The rain never did stop that night, and by dawn I was completely drenched from head to toe. The rain had come down so hard, and at an unusual sort of horizontal angle, the water splashed onto my face the entire time. It was a miserable trip indeed, but oh well. Nature is nature, there’s no controlling the weather. Well, actually there is, by using some sort of magical book or something, according to some crazy woman up in Chorrol I heard about. But that’s a whole different story in itself.
At about nine o’clock in the morning, I spotted a small inn. I had been traveling through the forests the entire time, rather than the road where I could easily spotted, and I was very surprised to have seen the inn in the first place. But apparently I must’ve been traveling closer to the road than I had originally thought, because the inn was on the edge of a dirt path.
I walked inside the building and saw four people, two who posed a major threat. There was a Breton inn keeper, who was busy talking to an elderly Imperial man, and then there were two Mythic Dawn members, sitting at a table in the left corner. When I saw them I immediately wanted to turn and leave, but unfortunately they saw me, and I couldn’t take a chance of leaving so soon. It would be too suspicious.
Instead, I walked up to the keeper and asked for a room for the day. I paid the Breton ten gold pieces and took my key. While I turned to walk up the stairs, I noticed the Dawn members were watching me closely, too close for my comfort. So rather than walk up stairs, I changed my mind and sat at a table after ordering a round of ale. I wanted to see if the Dawn did anything while I sat there. I wanted to see if they kept watching me. If I was lucky, they would cease with their stares, but something told me that wasn’t going to happen. I had no doubt in my mind the Dawn were going around questioning everyone in the land. And since they had not yet contacted me, it appeared my turn was soon to come.
For ten minutes I sat and drank, saying a few words every so often to the keeper and his friend. I did not want to look too fishy, so I figured talking a bit would only help. After another five minutes they were still eying me, and now they were starting to whisper. It was time to act.
I got up from my seat and walked up the stairs. Just as I had thought they would, the Dawn members got from their seat as well, and I could sense that they were following me. When I got up the stairs, I hid around the corner, waiting for the two robed men, for I already had a plan.
I quietly unsheathed my short sword and stood waiting. Then, when the first one arrived, I quickly shoved the blade through his stomach and shoved him back into his partner, and they both fell down the stairs. The man that I had stabbed was dead, and he was on top of the other. The remaining robed man was having a difficult time getting up, so I took advantage of the situation. He tried to cast a spell at me but it missed by at least two feet. Swiftly I got out my long bow and flung an arrow that hit the man dead in the forehead.
The keeper and his friend ran from their positions and examined the dead bodies, as if they had belief that they might still be alive. When they checked their pulses and realized they were dead, they looked up at me with a horror struck expression.
“What on earth did you do that for, you dumb fool? Don’t you know who you just killed?” The keeper of the inn was totally horrified by what I had done, but the old man had not a clue of what was going. He didn’t know I was holding the Amulet of Kings in my possession, but I couldn’t blame him.
I said nothing to the two, but walked down the stairs, snatching up by blade from the assassin’s stomach as I went. I was going to leave the place but the keeper grabbed my left shoulder and turned me around, rather violently I might say. The move took my by surprise and with a fast move I brought my blade up to the man’s throat, holding it in place only mere centimeters from his skin.
Again I said nothing, only because I didn’t want to compromise my position. I didn’t want to take chance on saying something I shouldn’t. Letting anyone know of what I was carrying would be suicide. Talos knows they would go to the nearest Dawn member and tell them of my whereabouts. Now that I thought about it, the keeper and his friend just might do that anyway. Great, now I had a decision to make.
Do I kill them and eliminate the chance of being ratted out? Or do I let them go and I hope they aren’t a bunch of old snitches? It wasn’t that I was afraid of killing them, I have no conscience as far as I’m concerned, hence my occupation as a thief, but I didn’t want to spill any blood that wasn’t absolutely necessary. After all, I am no murderer. I steal valuables, not life.
Ultimately I decided to let the men go; I’d just have to hope they’d keep their mouths shut. So I took the blade away from his throat, glared into his eyes for a few seconds, and then left before anything else could happen. I would not be stopping the entire day. Something told me the men wouldn’t stay silent for long, so I had to get to priory before I was caught.
I marched for nearly five more hours, through the thick trees of the forest of course, and along the way I encountered no other patrols, only a few deer and a couple of wolves, whom I was successfully able to sneak around without bringing attention to myself.
Finally I arrived at a place where there were two buildings. One looked to be a house, and the other a chapel. I read a small wooded sign that said: Weynon Priory. I was going to walk up to the building and knock on the door, but there wasn’t one. Instead there was only an open entrance leading inside.
I walked through space and saw that the place was totally trashed. Books, bowls and other items were lying everywhere. Loose leaflets of paper were taking up most of the floor, and I noticed blood stains accompanied them as well. That’s when I spotted body in the upper right corner of the room. It was a Breton man, with an iron arrow sticking out from the right side of his chest. I checked his pulse, and of course he was dead. I don’t even know why I checked. I wanted to think this was the man I was looking for, but from what I had heard, the man I was looking for had gray hair. I don’t know where I heard that from, but somehow I almost knew it.
There was a set of stairs and I walked up the second floor, and took a right. In the next room there were two Mythic Dawn members lying on the floor dead. Then, right beside a desk that was in the room, a body of a gray-haired Breton was lying on his side.
I ran over to the man and he was actually alive! I couldn’t believe it, the man, whom I assumed was the man I was coming for, was actually here right in front of me. He looked at me questionably and fearfully, as if I was the enemy.
“No need to worry, I’m not one of them,” I said, pointing over to the fallen Dawn members.
He almost smiled a bit, and then coughed, spitting up a big clot of blood that splattered against the floor and splashed back up into his face. He was too drained to wipe the sticky liquid from his face, so I did him the honors and used a nearby peace of cloth to wipe it away.
“Thank you Bosmer, but I’m afraid that won’t stop my soon-to-be-death. Who are you anyway?”
I told him my name and what I was holding in my pocket. He was very surprised to see that it had not yet fallen into the wrong hands. He told me that they came to his house yesterday morning, demanding to have the amulet, but of course he did not have it.
“What should I do? Is there anyone out there who can help me?” I asked man, whose named was Jauffre.
“Travel…travel to the city of Kvatch. Find an Imperial by the name of Martin. He will be able to help you. I…I personally sought him out just a day ago. I am the only who knows this, but…he is the last heir to the Septim bloodline. He is the son of Uriel Septim, and it took some time to make him believe me. I told him to stay in hiding for a while, because obviously the Mythic Dawn poses him a major threat. Thank…fully….they don’t yet know of his legitimacy to the throne. He alone can help you. What are your plans exactly?”
“I guess destroy the amulet so that Mankar cannot get his hands on it.” I replied. Apparently that wasn’t the answer Jauffre was looking for.
“NO, no, no! Do NOT destroy the amulet,” he yelled, and then coughed up some blood once more. “You…you must preserve it at all costs. I do not have the answers, but Martin can help you. Again I say…guard that amulet with your life. I do not know you Bosmer, but you and Martin are Cyrodiil’s only hope. Also, I do not know Mankar’s intentions…but obviously he wants that amulet. You cannot let him get his hands on it. Do you understand?”
I nodded to the man, and slowly his eyes closed, for the last time. He was dead, and I was still as confused as I was when I first arrived at the priory. So far I had yet to learn anything, only that I was now on another manhunt, this time for an Imperial named Martin. Hopefully he would be able to shed some light on what was going to happen with Mankar and his cult. Maybe then this Martin and I could come up with a plan to stop him from whatever his plans were. Too bad things never tend to work out that easily.
On to the next chapter