Chapter VIII: By Zenithar!

I remember watching Sybille butcher everything in front of her with such graceful ease that it would look more like a shadow moving around a bunch of armored pigs, I also remember being rather impressed at the time.

My current vampiric companion made all that seem like the movements of a newborn child as she barrelled through the reanimated dead as if they weren't even there, remembering spell after spell as the fight went on. She seemed to prefer a mix of shadow magic, electromancy, and blood magic though she kept shifting through all of the schools sans restoration in an attempt to remember what she could actually do.

Soon, my Falmer followers had no more reason to fight as all the remaining Draugr were hogged by the rampaging vampire, and not long after all that was left in the chamber were a trio of elves and a very relaxed looking bloodsucker.

Serana remained utterly silent as we looted the whole place of its ancient coinage and weapons, the pile growing ever larger as the industrious Falmer kept bringing literally anything of value to their newfound hoard.

As was their right, of course, they were the ones fighting so they got to loot the whole place.

"Anything you want off the pile, or do you want me to just give you the value in modern currency?" I ask the silent vampire.

A moment of relief passes in her expression as she quickly nods "Money, please."

I toss her a bag of about 500 septims "That should be your cut without all the processing costs, consider it a welcoming gift." I offer flippantly.

"Aren't you generous." She weighs the bag before tossing it somewhere under her cloak and looks toward the exit "Are we finished here?" She asks with an inflection of impatience.

"Should be." I shrug and wave for the Falmer to get a move on, both of them immediately packing their loot and falling in behind us "Right, we are done now."

Instead of responding, Serana powerwalks, or more aptly power-stalks toward the exit, forcing us to jog after her. As we exit the tomb we see her looking into the distance, breathing in the warm summer dusk air with an air of nostalgia and longing.

She takes one last deep breath "I really needed that." She mutters and turns to us "Thank you for getting me out of there, truly."

"That is really messed up to hear with context" I mumble quietly "It was my pleasure." I say a bit more loudly "Now that we are out of all the dreadful tomb air, might I formally invite you to visit my manor in Winterhold as a guest while you get your bearings?"

And there it is, the moment of truth. She knows she can attempt to flee at this point and probably even manage to evade me, but I have at the same time been patient and polite while offering her many of the things she would reasonably want in her situation making that choice a fair bit harder.

The fact that I was also seemingly open about my goals was of course a very big plus with how she was previously treated by her own family.

As expected, good sense eventually wins out... even though she has to practically force herself to say the words "Very well. I will trust you, lead the way."

And so I do. Our descent is rather peaceful, though lacking in silence as Alor wasted no time in grilling Serana for all the information he could get out of her. The young Falmer didn't even bother having a goal with his questions and merely trying to satisfy his curiosity.

I did have to intervene at one point due to the young Mer coming a bit close to questioning her about the whole 'Daughter of Coldharbour' thing and I did not want to have to watch him get splattered across the dirt due to foolishly asking her to recount the manner in which she was... killed. Yeah, calling it that is probably better for my sanity.

We reached the village below the mountain sometime before midnight and promptly deciding to waste no more time galivanting around the province I teleported us and our mounts back to Winterhold, the comforts of my home immediately enthralling the newest addition to my little team.

So much so in fact that she didn't even notice me leaving her alone in the library as a very dour Davos informed me of some unfortunate developments.

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I quietly enter my study and see Davos talking with a masked individual, one of my agents I quickly come to learn.

"So four out of seven targets were taken out?" Davos asks seriously while crossing off a quartet of names on a scroll.

"Correct Serjo." The agent, codename Fox if memory serves, nods "The rest are in areas too crowded to make it seem like an accident so we refrained from attempting it."

"Good." Davos says reassuringly "We do not need them getting martyred, better that the superstitious insurgents think their gods are against them instead."

"I take it the little rebellion is moving along as predicted?" I choose this moment to join the conversation.

The agent immediately offers me a deep wordless bow while Davos merely waves "Hey boss, good to have you hack." Fox gives his superior what I can only describe as a look so incredulous it bypassed his mask, but my right hand Mer simply ignored it and got on with his report "The gatherings have been growing in size for a couple of days now and they plan on making a move soon."

He points to the list atop the table "We managed to eliminate a couple of the ringleaders but those were mostly the merchants and rabble rousers, the ones who managed to evade us are a Priest of Talos, what we presume is a Stormcloak agent and one of the local guard veterans."

'Better not be one of Tolfdir's' I pray inwardly "And which guard is it?"

Davos mulls the question over for but a moment and then speaks "I think you have already met him, he goes by Thorgrim."

"That is..." I trail off before settling on "Unsurprising."

"Yes, while he is known to have aided you against the late Lord Moabain, he is also known for his barely hidden disdain for elves and magic." Davos lists off with growing disgust "A stereotypical Stormcloak if there ever was one."

"Mhm" I nod "I also had something of an altercation with him about some research notes we recovered a couple of years back. Him being so willingly ignorant and stubborn as to attack his own people is honestly not beyond my expectations." I clap my hands "Enough about the old codger, what about the other two?"

Davos pulls out a larger, more detailed scroll "The first is as I have said, a Priest of Talos leading the more vocal of the local devout from within the poorer parts of Winterhold." 

"Gods do I hate dealing with potential mobs." I comment with some frustration "I am guessing they will try and take up the local guards while the rest actually do the deed?"

"Just about." Davos nods "From what we have gathered the zealots will try and take the guard's focus with a seemingly peaceful protest while Thorgrim gathers his loyalists and leads Ulfric's strike team to take out Jarl Assur."

I silently walk next to the two rogues and slump into my cushy chair "Invite Captain Hjolmir for an urgent meeting and make sure that our newest guest doesn't wonder around while you are at it."

"...What new guest?" Davos asks worriedly.

I wave him off whisper so only he can hear "Oh don't worry, it is just a Daughter of Coldharbour."

His expression turns into a perfect deadpan "Of course, nothing weird about that, come Fox we better get moving."

"Is anything wrong?" The confused agent asks.

"Move, you will thank me later." Davos practically pushes him in front of him as they both leave the room.

Scorch appears on my shoulder and chuckles "It is cute that he thinks he can save him."

"Oh Davos you sweet summer child." I mutter with an evil grin and both of us burst into a fit of evil cackling that would no doubt get me declared a dark lord if anyone heard it.

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The meeting with the Guard Captain of Winterhold took me the entire evening, which was far faster than I expected if I was being perfectly honest. The descendant of Tolfdir spent hours questioning me about anything and everything I knew about the upcoming rebellion.

His face when I informed him about Thorgrim's involvement in the whole thing looked as thunderous as some of my spells and the only thing that stopped him from smashing my table was me informing him he would have to pay for it if he did.

It was a very expensive table.

We made a detailed plan of action, joined by Davos sometime in the middle, and he left my manor just before midnight with purpose in his steps and fire in his eyes.

I put down my empty cup of coffee and let out a long sigh "Even after all that I still don't feel tired..." Though my annoyance at my lack of need for naps disappears as quickly as it appeared for an idea struck me but a moment later "I do need to inform Isran about some of the developments..."

With a snap of my fingers I disappear from my study, unfortunately missing the delectable scene of Davos practically running away from an amused Serana.

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I appear within a warm cave with a loud pop, immediately followed loud girly shriek followed by a heated forge hammer flying at my face.

Naturally I stopped the thing with ease but whoever threw it at me apparently didn't get the memo as they decided that a hammer didn't work a crossbow bolt would.

I had to block three before they hesitated.

"Kindly calm yourself, if I wanted to harm you there is quite literally nothing you could do about it." I voice with an amused drawl.

"Who are you!?" The Breton woman asks with shaky hands and a shakier voice.

I do not get the time to answer as the nearby door is slammed open and a good half dozen fully armored Dawnguard members rush into the room, though the moment that Isran's eyes land on me he raises a hand to stop the others from committing suicide via mage.

"You." Isran practically growls.

"It is indeed I, me and myself." I quip back "At your service."

"How did you get here?" He asks, apparently unamused by my introduction.

I shrug "Oh that, well I just marked one of the silver ingots with my sigil. You didn't expect me to ride across Skyrim every time I wanted to talk to you, did you?"

He slowly palms his face, takes a deep breath, probably counts to ten, and finally asks "Why not inform me then?."

"Because I am as petty as I am powerful." I reply immediately and point at him "And you were rather rude when we first met."

An excited girlish squeal of excitement interrupts whatever answer the tired ass looking Isran was about to give as the woman who just shot at me not once but thrice looks at me with pure adoration "You are Court Mage Reyvin the Dwemer expert?!" Her eyes practically glow.

"...Yes?" I answer hesitantly.

"Oh by Zenithar, I have so many questions!" She grabs me by the forearms and starts trying to drag me toward her blueprint table "I hear you have discovered the secrets of the animonculi, oh I can't believe this is happening!"

Dear dead fucking Dagoth is she a bloody fangirl?

I turn to Isran to ask him to help me out but the amused smirk on his face informs me of my fate and his following words practically seal it "Take your time Sorine, I am sure the good Court Mage is too tired for serious work at this time so we can convene in the morning."

She nods so quickly I am genuinely surprised she didn't break her neck.

"...All I've managed so far is the reload mechanism, but I am sure someone of your skill could help me create the perfect hunting tool..." She babbles faster than a child on a sugar high and my dread grows with each passing moment.

Is this karma?

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