Chapter L: The Night of the Purge

To most residents of the Solitude sprawl, tonight was just another morndas, the Morning Star chill covered the entirety of the walled district and most busied themselves finding any warmth they could. There were rumors of another Orcish rampage, and apparently, some mage showed up to the Brotherhood to browbeat them or something but no one really cared.

One group, however, was burdened with a task far more important. The Brotherhood of Tsun were all rushing about like their asses were on fire in preparation for the operation, as the grouchy mage that brought the King's edict called it.

Most warriors of the Brotherhood didn't know what to think of the imperious elf, on the one hand, he was a complete cunt, something which upon overhearing he merely laughed at, and on the other he came to them like a messenger from Stendarr himself, offering them redemption.

Plans were made and allies were called upon, mostly different religious groups and family alliances that banded together to survive the sprawl, but refused to bow to the Brotherhood before today. Naturally, when their leaders were informed of their upcoming liberation they immediately pledged their meager forces to the King's cause.

And so it came to be that close to a thousand Nord warriors, aided by a number of fighters of lesser repute, charged into the sprawl as one, spreading themselves in a coordinated assault that could only be performed by great war veterans like them.

At the same time, a bright explosion of sunlight was launched into the night sky, signaling the King's forces to enter the district and begin the pacification.

The first groups fell without much resistance, only the desperate dared live on the border of the Brotherhood's domain after all. As they either put them to the sword in the case of the unredeemable ones, or captured in most other cases, the Brotherhood soon started facing off against the more numerous groupings.

Some Freemen leaders led counterassaults in their fury against the assumed 'thrall collectors' and were cut down. The deeper in they went the greater the opposition grew, the gangs and bands reacted with surprising alacrity for a bunch of slum dwellers, so much so that some of their leaders were found with a bolt in their eyes or necks where they proved too resistant to the assault.

The fighting was soon forced to slow down, as pushing too quickly would result in panic spreading everywhere and ruin the entire point of the operation.

Oddly enough the Massifs weren't at all reacting, scouts reported some kind of movement in their territory around the warehouses and 'cattle pens' but no movement otherwise.

Helm took this as an opportunity and redirected his assault into their territory, making a beeline with his own personal honor guard toward the fortified mansion that the Massif himself lived in.

He was met with little resistance as he realized that there was infighting happening among the higher-ups of the organization and they were too busy killing each other or pillaging the stores of skooma.

While that was going on, inside an inn that served as the Freemen's headquarters a meeting of the remaining leaders was taking place.

(Inside the Free Man's Delight)

A tall Orc snarled as he pushed a thin-looking Breton onto the floor "I don't care why they are coming Ignatius, the damn Brotherhood is after us like a bloodhound on a hunt!"

Ignatius dusts himself off and slowly gets up "Come off it Zarok, they are probably running low on food and decided to kill off some of their newbies, or 'train up the youngsters' as Nords call it."

An old, balding Nord scoffs in annoyance "Like you Bretons are any better, where does that fatso that keeps kidnapping the kids come from again?"

"Oh shu-"

A fist slamming into wood interrupts the Breton as Zarok barely keeps himself from smashing their heads in "Are the two of you dumbfucks retarded?!" the both of them flinch "We are under attack and you two idiots are still stuck trading barbs?!"

A deep laugh resounds through the whole inn as the shadows in an abandoned corner of the room coalesce into the form of a robed elf, no one dares say a thing as their instincts suddenly scream at them to either flee or submit.

The tall Mer ceases his laughter and speaks in an almost demonic voice "To think we have reached such a point that an Orc would be the sensible one."

The leaders collect themselves quickly and Zarok pulls out his mace "And who in oblivion are you twig!?"

"Now that isn't very nice." he shakes his head "I worked really hard for these muscles" he pretends to flex through his robes.

Everyone deadpans even through the aura of fear still pressing onto them, the elf clears his throat "Now I have come here with a lucrative offer for all of you."

The Orc narrows his eyes "And what is this offer?"

He spreads his arms, as if about to offer them the world "You all lay down your weapons, surrender your groups to the oncoming Brotherhood, and inform me where you keep all your ill-gotten gains. In return, I will not end your pathetic lives."

"Ha!" Zarok snorts "HAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh, you are good."

The old Nord slowly got up from his seat in what was supposed to look ominous and stoic, but just turned out comical due to the man's age "Young whippersnappers like you think they are the shit these days." his mouth spreads into a toothless grin "I think it is time you were taught a lesson on challenging a mage like me!"

'Whut?' Reyvin was stunned for a moment 'Did he actually not see me enter?'

A somewhat respectable adept level blizzard spell forms in the Nord's hand extremely slowly as he cackles like a madman "It took me two decades to master this spell, but ever since I did no one dared talk to me like that, you won't be the first!"

All the Freemen hold their breaths, the old man was infamous for freezing everyone who went against him to death, leading to him being on the council even without a group of his own.

As the blizzard flew toward the elf who they presumed was stunned by fear their anticipation grew... only to be completely dashed when with a lazy wave of a hand the raging storm of ice dissipated before even touching its target's robes.

There was an amused snort from their guest as he came closer, fully revealing his opulent and dreadful visage to them, he stared down at the trembling Nord, his disappointment palpable to all those present "You were talking all that good shit just a moment ago, and you are telling me that was it?!"

The old Nord stammers "I- uh... umm... sorry?"

"No." Reyvin deadpans "You got me all riled up and that is all you have to offer? It took you longer to master that pathetic thing than I was alive?!"

"Wait wha-"

A ball of wind and ice form in Reyvin's hand "Let me show you a proper blizzard!"

The spell that leaves his hand is close to four times the size and power of the one cast by the old man, and he is turned into fine chunks of ice and blood moments later.

The frustrated intruder lets out a tired sigh "Anyone else want to embarrass themselves or are we done here?"

Zarok shares a look with Ignatius and they both quickly nod at each other, the Orc scratches the back of his head as he places his mace on the floor "I'll uh... just leave that there."

As all those present quickly follow the intruder nods in satisfaction "Good, I really have no clue what gave you the idea you could be cheeky with a Court Mage, but I guess I will be nice and still honor my previous offer."

'And you didn't think to inform us of that before you butchered poor old Harald?!' is what people would be shouting at him right now if they didn't value their lives.

He claps his hands without a care about their impotent rage "Now, about that loot."

(Minthara's pov)

As Davos shoots yet another idiot in the head I am left wondering, just what did I get myself into?

I could reasonably get out of this if I brought this to uncle Sheo's attention, but do I really have the right to sentence my siblings to rot in the slums due to my paranoia? And would the apparent mad god even care about my plight?

Now that I think about it, the Court Mage might kill me out of spite if his reaction to Sheogorath's presence is any indication...

My trailing thoughts are interrupted by Davos once again signaling me to follow him, we have been trailing Helm and his group for some time now, taking out anyone he missed on his little rampage toward fat Louis.

This entire slaughter seemed pointless to me, how is killing so many people going to make things better?

I am about to ask Davos but the rows of legionaries slowly flowing in behind us with carts of food and followed by priest healers soon gave me my answers.

My employer turns to me "Can you climb kid?"

I nod quickly and he rushes forward, turning a corner and literally running up the wall of Massif's mansion... what? I shake my head and rush after him after he drops a rope.

As I climb up I notice a bunch of bodies surrounding him and a bloodied dagger in his hand, he doesn't react upon being 'caught in the act' and merely signals for me to follow him deeper inside.

The assault on the mansion has begun by now, the loud banging tells me that the gates are currently getting smashed and it is only a matter of time before they break in. "Why are we in such a rush?" I whisper to Davos.

He shrugs "Can't have the fatso escaping now, can we?"

I quickly grunt my agreement, if there is someone in this shithole that deserves to die, it is Louis.

The fighting breaks out in the hallways as we sneak our way into the basement while following the trail of smashed pottery and dropped coins.

Davos chuckles "It is almost like an invitation."

We round another corner and notice what I think is an ogre for a moment, but turns out to just be an obese Breton, dragging as much gold and other luxuries behind him while sweating like a pig.

Davos actually flinches "Dear Webweaver that is disgusting."

Webweaver? Is that some kind of Dunmer thing? I frown at the fat man now staring at us fearfully.

He speaks in a dead tired voice "Pl-pleahse leth me gho, I whill ghive you ghold." even his voice sounds fat as he begs.

Davos shivers in disgust "You want this one?"

I am not going anywhere near that! I quickly shake my head.

"Aight" He nods and points his palm at the man, what is he- a gout of fire flows out of Davos' palm and covers the Breton in an instant, the man even squeals like a pig as he dies.

This time I do throw up.

"Sorry about that kid." I heard Davos say, sounding genuinely apologetic.

I cough out the last bit of bile "Couldn't you have just shot him!?" I hiss, barely holding myself from strangling the cunt.

He scratches his head nervously "Umm, ran out of bolts..."

"Noble fucking retainer my ass." I snort.

He simply chuckles.

I get up from my kneeling position and turn to him "And since when were you a mage?"

He gives me an amused look "Boss taught me like a month ago."

I blink "He actually teaches magic to his servants?"

Davos nods "Yeah, has a bard brat as his student too, probably you now as well."

Why? "Why would he teach me anything?"

He shrugs "You will just have to ask him that." he then mutters "Kid's not even twenty and he's already mad like the rest of them I swear..."

My eyes widen "He is what?!"

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