Honourable Clean-Up

The orc raises his head and roars, "I AM UZGARUL, CHAMPION OF CHAMPIONS! WHO ELSE DARES FACE ME!?"

"Er, I do?" a voice says as a man in grey armoured robes steps out of a strange rectangular portal. "Huh, I came kinda late..." he mutters to himself as he looks around at the carnage.

"And who are you, Champion of Hircine? Or should I say, World-Hopper?" Uzgarul says, inwardly cautious as he currently lacked any weapon. Along with the many injuries he'd already sustained.

"Michael Tahlin." he shrugs as he casually walks over.

"Hmm, if you think you can best me, you will die like the re-"

*CRACKLE!*

A Laguna Blade blasts through Uzgarul's chest, cauterizing the wound as its burns his heart, lungs, and other internal organs.

"Ah, wait, where's your artifact." Michael awkwardly asks as he lowers his smoking finger, only now realising that the orc lacked his Daedric artifact.

Uzgarul attempts to spit at Michael but only succeeds in vomiting blood onto the floor and his own mangled chest, afterwards dropping to his knees and expiring on the spot.

Michael lets out a sigh as he runs his hand through his hair, "Man, I'm really dropping the ball today... Actually... Isn't preventing Hircine from gathering more Daedric artifacts a good thing? Maybe leaving it lost is the better decision."

Shaking his head, he makes his way over to the Understone Keep and knocks on the giant locked doors a couple times, "Oi! You guy's inside!? Seriously, this is becoming a theme now!"

"M-Michael!?" Jarl Igmund tentatively asks through the door.

"Yeah! It's me! Took care of those guys for you... Again..."

The large door opens to reveal most of the city of Markarth waiting inside the large entrance, along with Jarl Igmund and the many alert guards surrounding him. "Did you really rid us of that monster? And the Forsworn?"

Michael nods, "The vampire's dead, the orc's dead, the Forsworn are dead. The city is safe for now." he lists off and Jarl Igmund quickly clasps his hand.

"Then Markarth owes you even more. We were waiting on help from Solitude but, when troubles start you've always assisted us..." he gratuitously says before turning around to address his people.

"Citizens of Markarth! Our saviour Michael Tahlin has helped us once again by ridding our city of those fiends! Go! Reclaim the city and begin your lives again! Guards! Assist the people with anything they might ask, our inability to hold off the enemy is a fault in our stead, so we must make up for it!" Jarl Igmund declares which has people cheering and quickly shuffling out into the city, wishing to get their things back in order and also to address the damage that might've been done to their homes.

With Michael and Igmund left in relative privacy, the Jarl begins pacing around in thought, an unsure look on his face. "Michael, I know you will refuse any position I wish to give you, but all that you've done for my city cannot simply be forgotten. An honourable Nord's debt is a promise, and this is my promise to you... Markarth will support you in whatever endeavour you have." he holds his hand up as if Michael was about to interrupt him... Which he wasn't, "I have tried to rely on King Torygg, but it's like wringing blood from a stone. I on with the King in this war but, it is clear that respect does not flow both ways... This promise of mine is not just meaningless words, if you need something, want something, Markarth will support you." he earnestly says, despite his somewhat unclear rambling...

Michael was pretty taken aback if he were honest. All he'd done is kill that orc, the vampire was already dead so he felt like he was just picking up the pieces. Plus, he could read between the lines. The Jarl had essentially said that Markarth would follow Michael, even if he chose to support Ulfric Stormcloak. Meaning he could turn the tide of war if he really wanted to.

He didn't intend to do anything with the war, of course, he'd save this debt for another time when he really needed... He suspected that Markarth would need some time to recover from the almost constant attacks it'd been receiving.

"I'll remember that, Jarl. If that's all, I have other things I need to attend to... Oh, and, you might get some more... Visitors while the Blood Moon is in the sky."

...

"W-what do you mean?"

Michael wets his lips, "Well, I can't really tell you without breaching an oath, so... Honestly, my warning is alone is on the verge of receiving retaliation." he admits.

"What should we do then? Another vampire attack like that and I fear there won't be any guards left to keep order, even if you return again..."

Michael shrugs, "Just... Just tell whoever comes that the vampire is already dead, and the person responsible has moved on. That should stop any more battles... Now, I really need to get going, shit like this could be happening all over Skyrim."

The Jarl nods, "Thank you again, and may the Divines protect you from, whatever this is.

Michael pulls out the Vessel of the Hunt as he leaves, making sure there weren't any more guests in the city. Fortunately for Markarth, the next closest Champion seemed to be in... Somewhere around Solitude?" he concludes as he looks over a map to figure out which direction the strongest scent was coming from.

"Well, that's my next destination then." he says as he rolls the map up and shoves it in his inventory, preparing another Dimension Gate while he's at it.