Gaeolin waited near the back of the Winking Skeever. Auroth leaned against the wall beside him, preferring not to sit down. Delphine had caught them in Dragon Bridge. At her request they waited for her contact to show.
“You two cannot go to the Embassy like this.” She had said. If you want to pass Auroth off as a prisoner of yours, he can’t have armor or weapons on his person. Malborn can smuggle some gear in for him, if you insist on your plan. Be safe in there.”
Now they were coming on the third hour. He still had not shown. Auroth had expressed a desire to go on without the help, but something made Gaeolin uneasy about doing so. In the end, he had convinced his comrade to wait a little longer. He too had nearly given up when the door opened.
A slender wood elf entered. His hair was spiked upward in a sloppy style, his clothes ragged. He looked about nervously. The pair’s eyes met, Gaeolin motioning him to come. The man hesitated, then weaved his way through the crowd to sit across from Gaeolin.
“You’re the one she sent?” He sneered at Gaeolin. “I guess it’ll have to do. I have to say, her plans are getting more and more crazy.”
“Actually,” Auroth cut in, “this one was mine. I promise, it is far more likely to succeed than hers.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Malborn leaned forward, speaking in a hushed tone. “I overheard the First Emissary greeting a new dispatch from Alinor. High mages… Dangerous folk. Apparently, the issue with the dragons has her concerned for the safety of her detachment. I’ve never seen the place so fortified.”
Auroth chewed on his pipe to sooth his mounting anxiety. “How many mages arrived?”
“Maybe a dozen, with more scheduled to arrive within the next fortnight.”
Gaeolin looked to his friend. “We should move in before that happens.”
Auroth nodded. “This complicates things. I don’t like the idea of wandering into the place with no sense of the layout, knowing there are upper tier wizards about.”
Gaeolin turned back to Malborn. “Is there any way you could find us a map? Or make one up for us?”
He looked at them in disgust. “Listen, I haven’t been in the Solar. I only serve drinks in the main Embassy house. I’ll see what I can do, but don’t expect a miracle.” He leaned in close. “For the love of the Silvenar, wait until tomorrow, when the party is in full swing. It’ll be when the guards are the most distracted.” He looked at the tattoo on Gaeolin’s cheek. “Tá tú as Woodhearth?”[1] Gaeolin nodded. “Scrios siad mo theach freisin.” He sent Auroth a distrusting glance. “Ná muinín an Altmer. Cosnaíonn Kyne leat.” [2]
Gaeolin sent him a glare. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to smuggle in his armor and hammer for us, then?”
Malborn shook his head. “The hammer maybe, but the armor…” he inspected the steel plates. “No chance on that. It’s whatever clothes he has on his back. I’d choose something thick. It’s cold up there.”
Auroth swung the hammer from his back, handing it over reluctantly. “If you lose this, you’ll regret it.”
Malborn paled at the words. “I already do, trust me…”
“Get out.” Gaeolin whispered. Malborn did not need the phrase repeated, scurrying from the inn like a frightened hare. Auroth sat now, finding the lower position drew less attention.
“So we’re just going to lay low tonight?”
Gaeolin nodded. “It’s really our only choice. “ He motioned with his head to the stairs. “Go ahead and wait upstairs. I’ll buy our rooms. We’ll meet with Delphine by the stables to drop off your armor before we climb to the Embassy.”
The rain was falling on them the next day. Auroth cursed the clothes he wore, soaked within moments of putting them on. Gaeolin had bound his hands behind his back. For effect, the Bosmer had his sword loose in its sheath. They had both taken great effort to come up with the story of his capture. They settled on something close to the truth.
He had been leading a group of bandits, caused too much fuss. Gaeolin caught him, recognizing him from a description he had heard in Solitude years ago.
Auroth knew it had been his idea. He knew why it was important to get Gaeolin in there. But as the walls of the Embassy loomed ahead, it was more than just his damp clothes and the frozen weather that made him shiver.
A guard stopped them at the gate. She wore the traditional moonstone armor, a thin layer of ice on the golden plates. “Halt, Bosmer! This area is off limits to civilians!” Her hand settled to her sword, making Auroth’s nerves twinge.
“I am here to collect the bounty on this man.” Gaeolin spoke firm. His hand tightened on Auroth’s arm. “Or has the Aldmeri Dominion changed their stance on traitors?”
The woman looked at Auroth. It took her a moment to recognize him, but she soon let her expression turn to a sneer. “Well, well… If it isn’t Elmond Lirician.” She nodded to Gaeolin. “Well done, Wood Elf. I will return with your reward.”
Gaeolin pulled Auroth back. “You expect me to release him before I get paid? No, I need to see gold before he is out of my charge.” Auroth grunted. Gaeolin was being pretty forceful. The guard looked furious.
“I can’t let you come in. The First Emissary is hosting a party. She will not want anyone besides guests on the grounds.”
“Then I suppose you will have to tell her that you turned away the return of a traitor to the Dominion. It’s your choice.” He glared at her. “It would be a shame if the pig were to die in the woods, and not receive his proper punishment.”
She stammered. “That will not be necessary. Come, I will turn you over to my superior.” She opened the gate, leading them in. While she was looking ahead, Auroth leaned down to whisper.
“Don’t bury yourself in the act…”
At the front door, they were stopped by a woman in long, black robes. Her underling explained the situation, occasionally gesturing to them for emphasis. The woman looked at Gaeolin as though he were a pest. “I understand you refuse to release him until you are paid.”
“That’s right.” Gaeolin scowled. “I had to go through a lot to catch him. I won’t hand him over, just to see someone else get the reward.”
She smirked. “You forest people, always out for the money. At least you did honest work for it. There may be hope for your people yet.” She turned, dismissing the guard. She missed the livid expression Gaeolin sent her. “Right this way. We will see to it that you are rewarded.” Gaeolin gripped Auroth tightly, nervous for the both of them as they followed her into the Embassy.
Music filled the entrance, the main party only a few feet in front of them. Gaeolin saw a few familiar faces in the crowd. Proventus Avenicci, Siddgeir of Falkreath, and Idgrod Ravencrone of Morthal. He shielded his face behind Auroth, hoping he had done so in time to avoid detection. A woman in opulent black robes approached, her face livid.
“I told you not to bring anyone in here!” She whispered. “Why have you defied me?”
“Lady Elenwen, this man has brought Elmond Lirician to collect on his bounty.”
Elenwen looked past her, seeing Auroth bound. She cracked a wicked smile. “Ah, so your luck ran out at last? Thank you, um…” She looked to Gaeolin. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
Gaeolin locked up. He had not expected the question, and knew that answering would likely blow their cover. Fortunately, he was saved by Jarl Idgrod.
“I see the snakes writhe behind your eyes! Get them away! Get them away from me!” She was shouting at a man on a bench. He was clearly drunk, brushing at his clothes as if the serpents were on him.
“Snakes? Where?! I hate them!” Elenwen pushed past her lieutenant , scrambling to see what was the matter.
“Take him to Rulindil. He can manage this well enough.” She walked to the drunk man. “Oh Razelan… And you promised you would behave this time…” As they passed, Gaeolin saw Idgrod smile at him with a wink.
They hurried across the room in the wake of their escort. A few of the other guests looked their way, but all seemed too distracted by the commotion. Gaeolin felt his heart slamming as the door closed behind them.
“Wait here a moment while I go to fetch Rulindil.” But just as she made to leave, Gaeolin grabbed her by the hood, pulling her down so he could slice her throat. Her eyes went dark as Gaeolin cut the ropes on Auroth’s wrists.
“Alright, let’s get her hidden. Then we should head that way.” Auroth pointed to the door to their right. “I saw Malborn by a door over there. He might have my hammer nearby.”
They dumped the Thalmor Sorceress into a closet in the hall. Gaeolin went to the door at the end, looking around for the hammer. There was a piece of paper sticking out of a planter near it. He read the Bosmeri written on it, knowing it was from Malborn.
‘The hammer is in the pantry through this door. Make sure Savani doesn’t see or hear you. She’s always been willing to sell secrets for moon sugar. Good luck.’ Auroth Tossed the weapon into the air, catching it halfway up the haft. It shone with a burst of orange. He seemed to gain confidence with it in his hands. Gaeolin turned to him to discuss strategy.
“Okay, where should we go? Where would they keep anything to do with the dragons?”
Auroth looked out the door they had entered through. “Not in the main Embassy, that much I’m sure of. Malborn mentioned a Solar.” He motioned Gaeolin to follow him out into the first room. “Most Thalmor strongholds have them. It’s like a sort of headquarters for intelligence groups. It will be on the grounds, not far from the Embassy, but separate from it. We should head for the north side of the compound.” They were almost across the room when a soldier walked in. He drew his dagger, running at them without a second thought. Gaeolin shot him, cutting his throat in a flash. Another entered soon after, knocking the Bosmer from his feet before he could draw again.
Auroth held out his hand, flames spanning the gap between himself and the enemy. The soldier threw up his arm, the flames licking the moonstone as he rolled to avoid the magic. In that time, Gaeolin managed to draw his sword, the blade singing as it cleft the elf’s cuirass just below the chest plate. The sword cut through the leather, the Altmer’s stomach splitting wide. Before he could scream, Auroth crushed his head with the hammer.
Gaeolin fought to catch his breath. Auroth stared down at what remained of the soldier’s face. Gaeolin tried to decide what the expression was. Before he could question him, Auroth turned to head for the next hall.
They walked right into a mage. The spellcaster wasted no time in summoning a flaming minion between them. sent a gout of flames passed the atronach, lighting the robes of their opponent. Gaeolin dove beneath the fire, dodging the flame mistress to slash at the Thalmor with his blade. He succeeded, the steel bringing the man to the floor to meet his end. When he died, the bond holding the Daedra failed, causing her to fade from their plane leaving only a wisp of smoke.
Gaeolin wiped his blade on a table cloth. “I’m sure that wasn’t one of the mages Malborn mentioned…”
“No.” Auroth pushed the body with his boot. “He was just your run of the mill mage. Gifted, maybe… But not elite.
Gaeolin eyed the robes, an Idea coming to him. “Hey, why don’t you put those robes on? We could sneak past them if you pre-”
Auroth sent him a withering glare. “I will never wear those robes again. Not for you…” His face snapped toward the wall. “Not for anyone.” Gaeolin felt the pang of shame for even suggesting it. He should have thought longer about it before acting on the impulse. Auroth continued after a moment. “Come on, let’s get back to the task at hand. We have already stayed too long in one place. I’m sure these were meant to report to someone. Let’s move on before they are missed.”
They tried to sneak around the courtyard to approach the Solar from the back. Luck was not on their side however. They were spotted by a pair of High Mages. Gaeolin dodged the first attack, drawing his bow to return fire. The mage was quicker, sending a bolt of lightning hurling to him.
The electricity struck his bow, arching from the limbs to his belt, running along his sword and dagger. He felt his muscles spasm at the energy coursing through them, but had no control. The pain was unbearable. He would have screamed if he could.
Auroth threw his arm toward him, a wave of silver light wrapping around his companion. The shock spell dissipated. Gaeolin collapsed to the ground, panting as Auroth swung his hammer in an arch in front of them. A tendril of flames lashed out from the weapon, acting as a whip. It wrapped around the mage in front of them, he squirmed as the flames lapped at the hem of his robes. Auroth snarled, pulling his weapon towards him.
The cord of fire tightened, its hostage screaming as he burst into a column of fire and ash. The other mage froze just for a second at the sight. Auroth took advantage, hurling his hammer with all his might. It took the thalmor’s head from his shoulders in a clean break. The skull bounced into the bushes as the body fell forward, blood spraying several feet from the neck. Auroth turned to Gaeolin with his hands haloed in blinding gold.
“Come on! Get up!” His brow wrinkled as he forced the spell to intensify. For a moment, it seemed that Gaeolin was beyond his ability to heal. But after one last flare of power, the Wood Elf coughed. He looked tired, his hands blistered where the lightning had burned him. He opened his eyes, looking dazed. “Shalidor’s sake, you scared me…”
“Sorry to cause a fuss…” Gaeolin groaned.
Auroth cracked a smile. “Inigo was right. You’re way too sarcastic when on death’s doorstep.”
Gaeolin let his head fall back in the snow. “Maybe. Help me up…” The door to the Solar glistened with the faint glow of magic. Auroth held his hand over the lock with his eyes closed. He cocked his head, his fingers twirling in a strange way as he worked. After a moment, the door flashed bright blue, then faded to mundane. The Altmer took the handle, pushing the door in with ease.
“But I need that money! I earned it. I have my own expenses you know…”
“Silence!” The voice was sharp, warning of the consequences of this line of dispute. “Do not presume, Gissur. You are most useful, but do not presume. We have other informants who are less…offensive.”
“But no one else has brought you such valuable information, have they? Etienne, he’s talked hasn’t he? He knows about the old man. He told me himself.”
There was silence between Gissur and Rulindil for a time. The Thalmor whispered, his voice cool. “You’ll get the rest of your money when we confirm his story. As agreed.”
“So he has talked! I knew it!” Gaeolin and Auroth sneaked closer to the room in which the pair talked.
“Everyone talks in the end. Now, I have work to do. Leave me to it, if you ever want to see the rest of your payment.” Gaeolin risked peeking into the room, but stepped just a bit too far into the light.
“Who goes there?” A soldier stood across the room from them, his mace swinging from its loop as he rushed to them. Gaeolin rolled away as Gissur came from the room to fight them. Soon, Auroth was cornered by both he and the Thalmor warrior. Gaeolin shot the man Gissur in the head, turning next to the soldier. He struck the altmer in the gap at the back of his knee, the arrow cutting through the soft leather with ease. He ran to the door while Auroth recovered. He drew his sword, clashing with Rulindil as soon as he entered. The Third Emissary sneered, a ward between them as his hand worked an unknown spell.
“So, it would seem we have a rather skilled infiltrator on our hands. Are you with the den of thieves our source colludes with? Your associate is beyond your guild’s reach here.” He threw his hand to the side. The air in the room grew cold as frost began to line every surface. Gaeolin chanced a look behind him. A huge, lumbering construct was taking form, its body great pieces of ice. He had to block an attack from the mage, a shimmering summoned sword in his hand now. The Altmer smiled wickedly as he examined Gaeolin’s face. “Oh… So you’re from Woodhearth? And here we thought we had all but eradicated you rats from that miserable port.” He pushed hard, having caused Gaeolin to lose focus. The Bosmer landed on the floor, barely blocking the next strike in time. He glared at his opponent, his heart swelling with fury.
“Krii!” His voice shook the very walls, causing the atronach to fall, shattering it’s arm. Rulindil staggered back. Gaeolin readied his sword to strike, but saw instead the impact of Auroth’s hammer. The mage flew across the room, crashing into a shelf with a sickening crack. Auroth walked into the room, shrouded in a cloak of flames. He wore a crazed expression. Gaeolin made to attack Rulindil, but was stopped by Auroth. The Altmer grabbed the man by the robes, the fire starting to take the robes.
“You are a disgrace. Talking so proudly of a purge…” Rulindil’s eyes widened as he recognized his captor. “I had heard of you and Elenwen’s little project. It was not the first purge, nor the last. But a whole town, burned for the family of one man… “ His hand flashed with a mighty burst of fire. The Emissary caught fully aflame. He began screaming in agony, Auroth still holding him. “Suffer their fate, with the last child of Woodhearth as witness.” His brow snarled as he spoke. “Yol Toor Shul!”
The flames flared as his screams peaked. A second later, the room darkened, the only sound the pile of ashes hitting the floor. Gaeolin stared at his companion. Auroth was fixated on the ashes. His expression was strange, a mixture of fury and pain.
“Auroth?”
“You can’t even begin to understand how it feels. Every single person from here to Blackmarsh wants me to die, for no other reason than I was born as one of them. The trouble is I agree with them. What good could a man ever do, that could undo the horrors I have wrought with my spells, and my hammer? I saw entire counties burn. I chased down fleeing men. I killed children…”
He pointed at the emblem on the banner with pure hate. “All of it, I did for that damned flag. I can never make it up. I will never live it down. No one will forgive me,” he turned to Gaeolin, “I don’t think even you have.”
Gaeolin was taken by surprise. “You have never wronged me.”
“I literally tried to kill you with holy fire when we first met.”
“I was a vampire, and had just killed your men. I sort of understood your position.”
Auroth chuckled with no joy. “Still, I see it in your eyes.” He looked back to the thalmor on the floor. “What did you do, after you escaped the fire? What did young Gaeolin do as his home burned?”
Gaeolin tried to remember. “I… I remember running along the treetops, getting cuts from the branches. I heard men shouting behind me. I jumped…” His eyes were distant. “I had made it to the edge of the city. It was the only hill around that had no trees. I saw the fires…”
“You saw people dying. You saw your home, your family, your friends, reduced to ash. And who did you see setting the fires, hmm?” Their eyes were locked. “Altmer… You put up with me because you have to. I forced you to promise you wouldn’t take revenge for what people like me stole.” He scowled. “Aren’t I the tricky one?”
Gaeolin didn’t know how to feel. It was like a void had been opened beneath him. He had come to trust Auroth, but… Had Auroth never trusted him? “I… I don’t hate you, Auroth.”
“But you would have, had circumstances and time not shown you who I really was.” His face fell. “I can take off the robes, I can throw down my standard… But I can’t take off my face, Gaeolin.”
The Bosmer stayed quiet. When he finally spoke, it was shaky. “How did you get the scars on your face?”
Auroth smirked. “I didn’t actually try, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He ran a finger over the old wounds. “I got these from the first Assassination Team I killed. One of them had weapon with spikes on a set of chains. He was the toughest to beat. At one point, he tried to wrap the chains around my head to pull me down. Never could heal them up properly.”
Gaeolin took a step toward him. “I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t even old enough to be traveling alone at the time.”
“No,” Gaeolin looked at his friend as if it was the first time they had met, “I treated you wrongly. I didn’t give you the chance to prove yourself. I assumed who you were, and couldn’t see past my thirst for revenge.” He felt his heart ache in sorrow for Auroth. “I never thought… I never thought an Altmer could ever feel as alone as I did.”
Auroth said nothing. He leaned on his hammer, his brow creased in thought. “In the end, I lost my family too. They were killed, all because I wouldn’t turn myself in. They are dead because of me.” He looked to Gaeolin, his normally firm eyes watering. “It was all I had. But the debt will never be repaid.”
Gaeolin smiled. “You’ve punished yourself long enough, Elmond. I can’t say that I speak for everyone but,” he offered his hand in a Bosmeri salute, “you have proven to me that a man is more than the uniform he casts off.”
Auroth blinked, standing up straighter. “From you, that means enough to me.” He hefted his hammer onto his shoulders. He pulled his eyes away from the sight. “Let’s look around for the information Delphine wanted. I want to get out of here.” He knelt down, sifting through the ashes to find a key. He handed it to Gaeolin, the Bosmer opening a chest near the last set of shelves remaining in the room. Inside lay four dossiers, bound in the sort of extravagance one would expect from the Altmeri. Auroth took a pair of them, reading the spines. “Our friend Delphine is in this one. Ulfric Stormcloak…” He traded Gaeolin, pausing when he read the next two. “The dragons are in this one, and this one,” he held up the fourth, “is yours.”
Gaeolin looked at him, surprised. “They’ve been watching me?”
“You can’t blame them, can you? You haven’t really kept your gifts as Dragonborn secret.” He skimmed the dragon dossier while Gaeolin cracked open his.
Status: Active, (Capture or Kill), High Priority, Emissary Level Approval
Description: Male, Bosmer, mid 40s, Dark Brown Hair, Can be identified by facial tattoo
Background:
Gaeolin is, to our operatives’ knowledge, one of the last survivors of the Woodhearth purge of 4E 178. While much of his activities since then have remained a mystery, his actions in Skyrim have raised concern with the First Emissary. He is suspected to be one of the primary targets of the purge, possibly a relative of the Blades agent, Peghadel of Cheydinhal. He is known to be extremely dangerous and capable. No attempt should be made to confront him without overwhelming force and careful preparations.
Operational Notes:
Our agents have determined that Gaeolin owns property in Whiterun, but he spends very little time in the residence. It is suspected that he also owns property in Falkreath hold, though Siddgeir has been rather unwilling to cooperate with us in discovering more information. Any new leads should be brought to the First Emissary immediately.
~E
He closed the book, unsure how to cope with the knowledge. “It was me?” Auroth cocked an eyebrow. “They were trying to kill me.. My family… All because of my Grandfather.”
“Peghadel?” Auroth had taken the dossier, reading through what his friend had. “Your Grandfather was the Champion of Cyrodiil?”
Gaeolin’s face settled in a scowl. “He was an old man. All he ever wanted was to live a quiet life.” He turned to his companion. “He told my brother and I stories about Martin, about the battle of Bruma. He spoke of why he fought, why he wanted to fight no more. He hated what the world became, after he watched his friend give his life to save it.”
Auroth’s face fell in remorse. “That kind of thinking is why the Dominion would have wanted him dead.”
Gaeolin drew his sword. “Then they’ll have to try harder than this to kill me. Come on, let’s find this prisoner of theirs. Maybe he knows something after all. Clearly, they were still looking for something.”
There were stairs leading down, an awful stench rolling up from the floors below. Gaeolin reached the metal door, his fear rising as it swung in on iron hinges. Despite his effort, the door let out a long, slow squeal. Cobwebs clung to the rafters as they descended into the basement. Gaeolin crept to the railing, looking down to see a Thalmor guard beating someone in a cell.
“Please… I don’t know anymore…” The man gasped in pain as a moonstone fist buried in his gut.
“Silence! You will speak when asked questions.” The guard spat. “Rulindil will be back soon to question you further.” Gaeolin lead Auroth down another set of stairs. He sneaked near a restraining table, the blood on it still fresh from whatever the poor prisoner had endured at their hands. Gaeolin drew an arrow, sending it to pick off the guard. As the warden fell, he rushed into the open cell.
The prisoner was Breton. Gaeolin felt sympathy wash over him, seeing the blood that ran from his jaw as well as the cuts on his side. He reached out, a golden glow beginning from his palm. Etienne flinched away.
“Please don’t… I already told you, I… don’t know anything else about it.”
“I’m not here to torture you.” Gaeolin whispered, his magic spreading over the man’s wounds. “Are you Etienne? What did they want from you?”
The Breton looked to Gaeolin, suddenly realizing that he had been healed. “You… I’ve seen you before around Riften. Are you with the Guild?”
“No, just someone who doesn’t want to see anyone else die by Thalmor hands. I overheard your interrogator talking about something they thought you knew. They were looking for information on someone.”
Etienne nodded. ‘Some old man by the name of Esbern. Made the mistake of mentioning to one of their toadies that he sounded a lot like the old man living in the Ratway. They drug me off in the night. Just kept asking me the same damned questions.”
Gaeolin turned to Auroth. “We should look around and see if they left anything that might help us lying around.” he turned back to Etienne. “Go ahead, we’ll be along in a few moments.”
“I guess you know what you’re doing. I’ll find a way out of here.”
Gaeolin and Auroth made for the area where the interrogation had been. The Bosmer was almost sick at the sight of the tools. Wicked knives and hooks, a glowing clothes iron in a bed of coals, a length of bloody rope… On a chest nearby lay another dossier. He had just finished stuffing it into his bag when the door opened above them. A voice called down to them. “Listen up, spy. You’re trapped in here, and we have your accomplice. Surrender immediately or you both die.”
Gaeolin could hear Malborn. “Never mind, I’m dead already-” He was cut off by a hilt impacting his head.
“Silence, traitor! Move. Slowly…”
Gaeolin and Auroth waited on either side of the door leading to the stairwell. Once Malborn was out, they attacked. Auroth’s hammer glistened with fire, killing one of the soldiers instantly. Gaeolin plunged his blade into the other’s chest, watching as the shocked face stilled. As he let the body fall, the stairs began to burn. He pushed Auroth through, ushering the group toward the other end of the cell block. Etienne waved him over.
“I saw guards dragging bodies over here! It might be a way out.” Indeed, when Gaeolin, Auroth, and Malborn arrived, they brushed the bloody straw aside to uncover a trap door. Auroth didn’t let Gaeolin try the lock, smashing the door open with a swing of his hammer. He shoved Malborn down, following right behind. Gaeolin gestured for Etienne to go first. The man stared at him for a moment. “You didn’t have to help me…”
“We aren’t out yet. Go!” He pushed him down into the tunnel below, jumping in after him.
He landed in a snow filled cave. As he stood, he noticed the body of a dunmer and several other corpses in varying states of decomposition. Before he could wonder what the Thalmor had done to them, he heard a great roar fill the cavern. Rushing out of the little nook they were in, He saw a frost troll brandishing a bone at Auroth and Malborn. He drew his bow, taking aim. Auroth sent a gout of fire to ignite the creature’s fur. Malborn tried to make a run for the exit, being hit by the troll and tossed into the wall with a crunch. He landed on the stones, dead. Etienne scavenged a dagger from the dark elf, running forward to help his rescuers. The troll howled in rage. With its fur still burning, it ran at the group. Gaeolin slipped, falling back down into the lower part of the cave. Auroth took his hammer in hand to strike. Etienne threw the dagger, a green smoke trailing behind it before the blade stuck in the beast’s eye. It growled, leaping onto the Breton with its claws shredding his flesh. Auroth brought his hammer down, shattering the troll’s skull, but not in time to save Etienne.
Gaeolin and Auroth left the cave, silent and tired. Gaeolin stopped, his face one of sorrow. “I hope Delphine can learn something important from these documents. They costed more than I was prepared to give.” He looked back, feeling his heart swell in pain at the loss of Malborn and Etienne. “I wonder who they were… If they would have been friends to us in time.”
Auroth looked away through the trees. “Malborn was a coward. Etienne was brave, but if I know criminals, he would have turned out to be an enemy to you eventually.” He turned to Gaeolin. “But I understand why you feel this way. You are a better man than I.”
Gaeolin shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think you just have a bit more caution than me.”
Auroth thought for a moment. The wind outside was cold. It might be better to wait… With a look of determination, he turned back to Gaeolin. “let me see your dagger.”
Gaeolin hesitated, but handed over the weapon. He cried out as Auroth took his wrist in an iron grip. He grabbed the dagger, slicing Gaeolin’s palm. The Bosmer tore his hand away, looking at his friend with fury. “What was that for?”
Auroth didn’t reply, spreading the blood onto the head of his hammer. He sliced his arm above his elbow, doing the same with his own blood. He handed the blade back, reaching into his bag.
He pulled out a soul gem. It pulsed with a pale blue light. Gaeolin noticed that there were strands of power attaching to each of them. Suddenly, he realized what was going on.
Auroth set the gem on a stone, turning to Gaeolin with a smile. “I think you’ll agree we don’t need this anymore.” He raised his hammer above his head. A bright, white light shone from it. He brought it down hard. When it hit the gem, the Light shot outward in an arc. The trees swayed, and Gaeolin felt as though something heavy had been pressed into his heart. It took a moment to recover from the sensation. “Gaeolin of Woodhearth, my friend… Your soul is released from my contract.”
*****************************************************************
Translated Lines:
- You were from Woodhearth?
- They destroyed my home too. Do not trust the Altmer. Kyne protect you.
Mapes Fiction Publication 