Stonefalls: Davon's Watch

The ride to the Stonefalls region took the Sept the entire night and early morning. Arriving at Davon’s Watch when the sun was high in the sky, they quickly got their exhausted mounts to the stables to be looked after. Then it was time to get into the city proper and warn whoever was in charge. A Nord seemed to be directing refugees and soldiers alike, and Tyrna figured that if he wasn’t in charge, he would know who was. But as they all approached the gates, the Nord looked up, eyes widening. One hand went to the double axe secured on his back, but he refrained from drawing it. “Hold. State your business in Davon’s Watch, strangers.” Tyrna held out her arm to halt the group, and she noticed that arrows were being readied by Hana and Respite. And then it hit her: Of all the members of the Sept, only four belonged to the races of the Ebonheart Pact. And to probably add to this man’s worry was that four Imperials were also in front of him.

“We’ve come to aid you,” she assured him, holding up her hands to show her weapons were not readied. “I admit we must seem like a strange lot.”

“That’s an understatement,” the Nord shot back, hand edging away from his axe. “Name’s Holgunn, by the way, and I help coordinate the defenses here. Help us, you say? Where are you from?”

“Most recently Bal Foyen.” Again, his eyes went wide.

“We heard about that. A whole group of Daggers felled by a single- Oh, you must be the ones that Hanzo fella talked about.” The mention of their Sept-mate’s name caused a few eyebrows to be raised.

“Is he here then?” Makayla asked.

“He was, but we thought it best to alert the city of Ebonheart about the Covenant, and he volunteered to be our messenger.”

“…He’s very strange for a Nord, isn’t he?” Ket ventured, hoping she didn’t offend the large man. Holgunn shrugged and grinned.

“Not so much. We seek glory, and if Hanzo thinks this will be a way to earn it, who are we to deny him that?”

“Spoken like a true son of Skyrim!” Stirs-Fear praised, thumping a fist to his chest in salute. “Now are we getting into the city anytime soon? I’ve a thirst that needs to be quenched.”

“I’ll talk to my shield-brother and see what we can do. After all, you’re offering help we sorely need.” Holgun headed through the city gate, leaving the Sept by themselves for a bit. Hana suddenly appeared at Tyrna’s side, looking upset.

“These people all have weird names!” the Bosmer practically shouted. “There’s a Nord over by the stables named Big McLarge-Huge! Who names their kid that?!”

“Nords?” Respite ventured with a chuckle.

“If I meet a Shorty McHalf-Pint, I’m going back to Valenwood!” Stirs-Fear suddenly got a thoughtful look on his face, nodding at Hana.

“Halfpint…” The Wood Elf turned and glared at the older man.

“No! Don’t you dare!”

“But it fits you so well, lass,” he gently argued. “Even our little Bretons are at least a head taller than you.”

“I can’t help it that Bosmer are born lower to the ground than everyone.”

“Makes sneaking easier,” Bakki pointed out, stepping from the shadows of the stables. Alana jumped at his sudden appearance, wishing she had Fearsome. Tyrna had explained that the Daedra was not to be summoned anywhere near the cities, as they had no idea what people’s reactions would be to him.

“Hana, you wouldn’t be bothered by your height back home, so why let it get to you here?” the healer rationalized.

“Because back home I’m tall!”

“Really? You look like a halfpint from where I’m standing,” Stirs-Fear teased.

“Damnit old man, I told you-”

“Quiet, all of you!” Tyrna commanded. “Holgunn’s coming back.” Hana consoled herself by sending the former Provost a rude gesture, which he laughed at.

“Well, the Indorils have given you all permission to enter Davon’s Watch and fight for the Pact. Tanval wants to see who’s ever in charge before dinner. Who might that be?” Tyrna was all set to point to Makayla, when she realized that about half the Sept was doing the same thing to her! “Ah, so it’s you?”

“Wait, what? No! Absolutely not! I’m not leader material.”

“Sure you are,” Makayla insisted. “Besides, everyone seems to listen to you, and you’re good at giving orders.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“But ma’am,” Greyson interrupted. “You’re the commanding officer.” That seemed enough for Holgunn, and he nodded.

“I’ll tell Tanval to expect you…”

“Tyrna,” she grumbled. “May I bring someone with me as my second?”

“Aye, that’ll be fine.”

“Good. Makayla, you and I will go visit the Indorils after we get everyone situated.” The mage shrugged and nodded.

“As you wish.” As Holgun left them once more, the soldier rounded on the blonde. “What? You look upset.”

“I am upset, damnit! I’m a soldier, Makayla, not a politician. You would’ve been better dealing with this Tanval Indoril.”

“Isn’t that why you’re taking her with you?” Ket wondered, smiling brightly.

“Partially. If it were just Holgunn we had to deal with, I’d be fine. But Indoril? It doesn’t sound like he’s a Nord.”

“He’s not,” Injects revealed. “Indoril is a sub-house of the Dark Elves. “I would bet my scales he’s a mage.”

“Do you know this Tanval?” Tyrna pressed, hoping for more information. But the Argonian shrugged and shook his head.

“Only by reputation. My kind tried to avoid the Dunmer when we could. Slavery tends to grate on race relations.”

“This one is impressed with your restraint, my scaled friend,” Nathan’Dar spoke up. “Were it him, Nathan’Dar would’ve hunted every Dark Elf who ever owned one of his people.” The Khajiit and Argonian exchanged savage smiles, and Tyrna left the matter alone for the moment.

“All right you lot, into the city. We’ll secure lodging, food, and then check in with our various guilds to see if they have any work.”

“Yes ma’am!” most everyone chorused. The Imperial frowned and shook her head. It was going to be a very long journey.
* * *

Compared to Bal Foyen, the city of Davon’s Watch was massive. But when it was compared to the Imperial City… Well, Tyrna knew that nothing could ever compare to her home. Davon’s Watch seemed to have been a fort at one point, and there was a noticeable difference in the walls that surrounded the civilian housing verses the main market and guild halls. But at least they were high and made of stone, rather than nonexistent or mud. Most of the group split off between the Fighter’s Guild and Mages’ Guild, and the Imperial was momentarily surprised when she saw Makayla and Ket head for the Fighter’s area, while Bakki and Respite tagged after Alana towards the Mages’. Stirs-Fear, Sasha, and Hana wandered off to find an inn, and Nathan’Dar… Well, the Khajiit had a habit of disappearing, so she didn’t think much of it. That left Tyrna with Greyson trailing after her. She stopped and blinked, opening her mouth and then closing it while she attempted to think what she wanted to say. Finally, practically won out. “Why are you following me?”

“Just awaiting orders, ma’am,” he replied without pause.

“Orders?”

“Yes. As I said, you’re my commanding officer.” Now she tilted her head, and a shiver of panic ran through her.

“Wait, did you know me before our souls were stolen?” Hope flashed through her eyes for a moment, but the other Imperial sadly shook his head.

“No ma’am, we’ve never met. I meant that you’re my commanding officer now.”

“Greyson, I’m just a soldier like you.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you’re not. Infantry have a certain way about us; something that all common soldiers share. We don’t give orders, we follow them. But you don’t do that. You tell someone to do something, and expect it to be done. That’s a command way of thinking. You and Makayla both share that.”

“Did you know her at all?” Again, Greyson shook his head.

“Not personally, but my legion had dealings with the Mage Tower, so it’s possible I’ve seen her before. But I have a feeling I’d remember a sword-wielding mage.”

“What legion were you in?”

“First Infantry Legion of Cyrodiil.” The words clicked a small memory in Tyrna’s mind, and she nodded.

“Charged with the city’s inner defenses. A prestigious posting.”

“There was one higher than that.” Tyrna tilted her head, finding a blank spot where the information probably should have been.

“I can’t remember it.” Greyson sighed and stared at the sky for a moment. For all that he enjoyed being a soldier, there was a small part of him that had wanted more.

“The Imperial Dragon Guard. Protectors of the Emperor himself.” Tyrna huffed and chuckled: A bitter sound that drew Greyson’s attention back to her.

“Yes well, they failed that job, didn’t they? Mannimarco has probably killed them or turned them to his cause. If only…” She trailed off, and Greyson could tell she was trying to remember what had happened before she’d died.

“If only what, ma’am?”

“…I don’t know. I feel like there’s so much more I’m not remembering. Important things, too.”

“You’ll recover your memory one day."

“Maybe. But as for the present…” Tyrna realized they’d wandered towards the Mages’ Guild, and as the door opened and Alana stepped out, an idea came to her. “All right, your orders are to guard our little Breton healer. No harm comes to her, or it’s your arse on the line. Understood?” Greyson nodded and saluted.

“Yes ma’am!” The mage came over, looking confused.

“Hi, what’s going on?”

“I’m going to be your bodyguard,” Greyson told her.

“But… But why?”

“Because Tyrna ordered me to watch over you.” Alana blinked and looked at the other Imperial, confusion giving way to panic.

“Am I in danger? Is someone after me?”

“No more than usual, I imagine,” Respite revealed as he and Bakki walked past.

“Wait, what?!”

“Alana, calm down,” Tyrna told her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “I know Sasha said she’d keep an eye on you, but I think she’s used to working alone. Greyson has worked with mages before, and he’s seen combat. Whatever happens, he’ll protect you, all right?”

“You’ll keep me safe?” the healer asked in a small voice, staring up at the soldier. Greyson dropped to one knee, fist to his chest, and dipped his head.

“I swear on my honor as an Imperial Legionnaire, I will stay by your side and keep you safe from all harm, Alana.” The Breton blushed as he stood once more, and Tyrna chuckled. At that moment, Makayla and Ketatiera came up, grins on their faces.

“Are we interrupting something?” the blonde wondered, a teasing light in her eyes. Tyrna shook her head and turned to the two women.

“No, just giving Greyson some orders and making sure our other healer is well-protected during a fight.”

“You’re not worried about me?” Ket teased.

“You’ve got Makayla to keep you safe.” The blush that crept up Ket’s face made Tyrna grin, but it seemed more predatory than friendly.

“She’s got a point.”

“You’re not helping,” the Templar muttered, shooting a half-hearted glare at her companion. At that moment, Caidiana came running up, looking a bit breathless.

“You guys need to come quick! Stirs-Fear is fighting this group called the Undaunted!” All of them blinked, and then the group was heading for the docks.
* * *

“Fight” had probably been too strong a word, Tyrna decided as they came upon the inn. “One-sided beat-down” seemed a better choice for what was going on in front of her. The old Nord was wielding a table as a weapon, swinging it around like it was simply a shield. Several unconscious bodies lay in a circle around him, but more were gathering at the edges of his range. “Come and face a real fighter, you milk-drinking braggarts! Buy you a drink?! You’ll be buying me a keg after I’m done with you!” On top of the bar, Hana was brandishing a broken bottle, screaming obscenities at anyone who came near her. And Sasha was straddling a Dunmer, beating him into the ground.

“I’ll show you a serving wench, you uppity Dark Elf!” she shouted, smashing her fist into the bloody ruin of his face. Makayla started laughing, but Ketatiera looked horrified at the carnage she was witnessing. Caidiana appeared unsure if she should help her Sept-mates, and Alana and Greyson were simply shaking their heads.

“Shouldn’t we calm them down?” the Breton healer wondered, peeking around her new bodyguard.

“You really want to approach any of them?” Tyrna shot back.

“…Not really.”

“Then we wait for them to-” A bottle came sailing past the group, and thunked into Alana’s forehead. She flew back and tripped over a chair, landing herself on the floor. Ket was by her side in an instant, while Greyson turned his gaze on the room. A Nord was standing on a table, looking very guilty, hand still outstretched.

“Clumsy oaf!” the Imperial shouted, crossing the room in two strides and backhanding the offender. At that moment, two Argonians came up to the two Sept leaders, looking eager to get them into the fray.

“Don’t,” Tyrna warned, one hand edging to her sword.

“Back off,” Makayla echoed, lightning dancing across her palms. Suddenly, Hana came sailing towards their would-be attackers, knocking the lizards to the floor.

“Take that, bitches!” the Bosmer screamed, smacking the Argonians with the bottles she held in her hands. Tyrna was about to thank the Wood Elf, when pain crashed down on her head, followed closely by the sound of breaking glass. Time seemed to slow as she turned, eyeing the Dark Elf who had cracked her over the head with a wine bottle. The look on his face was of someone who was staring at their death. The sword and shield practically leapt into the Imperial’s hands, and she rammed her assailant into the nearest wall, shield pressed to his chest and weapon at his throat.

“Bastard! Did you think it would be a good idea to piss off an Imperial?!” she demanded of the now shaking man. “What kind of an idiot do you have to be to involve a soldier of Cyrodiil?!”

“Mercy, kind lady,” he blubbered. “I had no idea you’d bring a sword to a bar fight.” A hand clamped firmly on her shoulder, and Tyrna didn’t even need to turn her head to know who it was.

“Let him go, lass,” Stirs-Fear advised. “He’ll be needing a fresh set o’ pants after the scare you gave him. Let the nice, puny Elf run back to his home.”

“He attacked me.”

“Aye, but is that worth gettin’ yer blade dirty? You’ve proved your point well enough.” The old man came around so she could see him, hand still on her shoulder. Even through her armor, she could feel the grip he had. Releasing a sigh of frustration, Tyrna backed away and sheathed her weapons.

“Pray to your gods that he was here,” she stated, tossing her head at Stirs-Fear.

“Oh I will,” the Dunmer promised. “Tribunal bless you, my good sir.”

“Get yer arse outta here, before I regret what I did,” the Nord stated as the Dark Elf took the hint and ran. Meanwhile, the city guard was starting to arrive at the bar, and the Sept got out while they could. Greyson had picked Alana up to run faster, and Stirs-Fear managed to catch Hana in a grip she couldn’t wiggle out of. Tyrna pulled Caidiana along, and the group made a mad dash back to the Fighters’ Guild.

“Well, that was fun!” Caidiana stated, fixing her blonde hair back into its braid.

“We kicked their asses for sure!” Hana agreed as she was set down. “And by the way, never pick me up again!”

“But Half-pint, you flew so nicely at those two lizards.”

“That was different. I mean to run. Remember, most people here won’t look down. I can slip away in a crowd very easily.”

“We’ll remember that next time,” Sasha promised.

“By the way, nice job on that asshole who asked you to get him a drink.” The blonde Nord bristled and growled.

“That’ll learn him to treat women with more respect.”

“Or at least you,” Alana pointed out with a chuckle.

“Sorry you were injured,” Greyson said as he set her down.

“It’s all right. I was more surprised than anything, and Ket made sure I was all right. But… Thank you for defending me.” Again the little mage blushed, and Makayla chuckled. “But Tyrna, I didn’t expect you to be so… Fierce with that Dunmer.”

“You have gotten into bar fights before, right?” Caidiana asked.

“Possibly. Can’t remember.”

“Well, maybe it’s better that we stay away from that bar,” Makayla wisely suggested. “We’re probably not welcome after that little display.”

“Then perhaps it is good that this one procured some drinks for later, yes?” Nathan’Dar walked towards them, hands behind his head, and whistling softly.

“What did you do?” the Imperial mage asked.

“Done? Why do you phrase it like Nathan’Dar has committed a crime? He has simply been given the chance to acquire a drink for all his new friends.” The Khajiit pulled a bottle out of his pack, grinning as he recounted his own adventure. “A Dark Elf was most anxious to liberate this from the innkeeper, saying that wine was meant to be drunk; not a show piece. Nathan’Dar agreed, and after deciding on the price, he went to acquire this rare vintage. But after this one recovered it, Nathan’Dar thinks to himself that wine is meant to be drunk with friends. So he finds a clean bottle, pours the wine into it, and fills the fancy one with that sujamma stuff the Dunmer like to drink. So now, this one has been paid, and has something good to share.” The rest of the group stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “Has this one done something wrong?”

“I knew I liked you, cat-man!” Stirs-Fear shouted, slapping him across the back. Nathan’Dar managed to hold onto the bottle, and give the Nord a sour look.

“This one is not a cat-man, he is a Khajiit. Would you prefer Nathan’Dar called you drunk-man?”

“Not a bad idea,” Hana teased. “Now let’s find somewhere to enjoy this bottle!” The Sept headed off to find their other members, ready to regale them of the things they’d missed.
* * *

Dinner that night was with the Indorils and Holgunn, and Tyrna felt very out of place. All around her were fancy foods, lavish decorations, and smiling nobles. You would hardly have believed there was an army coming to invade the city with the way everyone was carrying on. A quick glance to her right showed Makayla looking slightly bothered as well, so the soldier cleared her throat. “Lord Indoril-” she began.

“Please you may call me Tanval. Are all Imperials suck sticklers for protocol?”

“We are when in unfamiliar lands with no back-up.”

“I see,” the Dunmer replied, taking a quick drink of wine. “Well, Holgunn’s told me you and your… Sept, was it? He tells me you wish to aid us against the Covenant.”

“We do. They seem to think it’s a good idea to go marauding around your countryside, and we aim to show them otherwise.”

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why?” Tyrna met Makayla’s eyes, and the two women sighed.

“You want the short or long version?” the mage asked.

“The long one might be better,” Tanval’s son stated. “Seeing as it might answer more of our questions.” Again, the two Imperials sighed before recounting their tale from when they awoke in Coldharbour. Everyone listened intently, asking some questions here and there, but mostly sitting with wide eyes. When their story was finished, it was Tanval and Holgunn’s turn to look at each other.

“That’s one heck of a story,: the Nord finally commented. “To think that we’ve also got a Daedric Prince to deal with is…”

“Frightening, to say the least,” the Dark Elf continued. “But if he is your ultimate goal, then you’ll need allies. And those allies can’t be involved in a war. So bearing that in mind…” He rested his chin on his hands, staring at the table for a moment. “I have a proposition for your group.” Tyrna leaned forward, one eyebrow raised.

“We’re listening.”
* * *

“This is a bad idea,” Respite once again stated.

“This is a very bad idea,” Hana echoed.

“I know that, and you know that, but this is what Lord Indoril wanted done,” Tyrna reminded them. She, Makayla, the two Bosmer, and Ketatiera were in the Indoril family crypt, looking for a particular member’s skull that Tanval needed “just in case”.

“This smacks of necromancy,” Makayla said, repressing a shiver. “And I thought we’d all had enough of that.”

“Why do Elves have to be so creepy?” Ket asked, before realizing what she’d said. “Oh, I meant other Elves!” she quickly assured the Bosmer.

“Nah, we can be pretty creepy too,” Hana insisted.

“Oh, you mean those wild tales about you eating your enemies?” Respite and Hana shared a quick glance before the male archer turned to the Imperials.

“Yeah… Those aren’t stories.” The three of them paused for a moment, blinking in disbelief. “What are you worried about? We’re friends, remember?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Tyrna told the group, wanting to be done with their task. “But anyway, if the Daggers attack, we’re going to need a backup plan. And I doubt this is going to lead to Tanval raising his ancestors.”

“First off, it’s not “if”, but “when” the Daggers will attack this place,” Respite countered. “Second, did that Dunmer actually say why he needed this skull?”

“…No,” the soldier admitted.

“And we didn’t press the issue either,” Makayla added.

“He might not have told you the reason even if you’d asked,” Ket ventured.

“Even more reason to not trust him,” Hana grumbled. “If he does end up raising the dead, I’m going to cram that skull up his ass before I kill him.” The group continued through the crypt, wary of the skeletons and ghosts that seemed to be following them. Finally, they saw a full-bodied spirit hovering in front of a burial urn.

“Why have you disturbed our honored dead?!” it demanded.

“We’ve come under orders from Tanval Indoril to-” Tyrna began, before the ghost cut her off.

“That fool will doom us all! Now leave this place and tell Tanval he must find another alternative.” The group shifted their gaze to their leader, who clenched her jaw.

“Sorry, I don’t give up on jobs just because the undead tell me.” She drew her sword and charged the ghost, Makayla’s lightning bolt getting there a moment before she did. Respite and Hana unloaded arrow after arrow, and Ket made sure the spirit didn’t injure them. The ghost was soon sent back to wherever it had come from, and Tyrna walked up to the urn it had been guarding. Thrusting her hand into it and fishing around disgustedly for a moment, she emerged with an old skull. “Let’s go.”

“And not soon enough,” Makayla whispered as the group all but ran for the exit. The other restless spirits didn’t make it easy, and as the mage fought them back, she kept hoping her growing feeling of impending doom was just her over-active imagination.
* * *

Makayla had a smug look on her face as they entered the crypt the next day. “Don’t you dare,” Tyrna ordered, charging ahead to deal with a Covenant archer. The Daggers had attacked Davon’s Watch from all sides, and the guard was beginning to be overwhelmed. The Sept was doing all they could to assist, but Tanval had determined that it was not enough, and had come down here to initiate his backup plan.

“What? Say “I told you so”?” the blonde shot back, reducing an enemy to ash.

“It’s not necromancy.”

“No, it’s only a bloody summoning spell!” Bakki brought up.

“Brother of Strife?!” Hana yelled, loosing an arrow on the run. “Why are we letting this idiot do this? Even his own family though it was a bad idea.”

“It’s probably too late to stop him,” Ketatiera pointed out, quickly healing Tyrna from a lucky strike to her arm.

“Holgunn said the Indorils would need our protection, and since they’re part of the leadership here, we need to make sure Tanval and Garyn are all right.”

“I still want to have a chat with him after this,” Makayla stated as the group rounded another corner; this one filled with skeletons instead of Covenant.

“Us too!” the Bosmer echoed, barely stopping to shoot.

“Agreed,” Tyrna said with a sigh. “After the city is safe.” The quintet finally reached the chamber where the Indorils were performing the ritual, all of them noting it was the same one they’d seen the full-bodied spirit in. Candles marked out a large circle on the floor, lines of power and binding had been drawn, and the skull sat in the middle.

“Thank you for being here,” Garyn quickly whispered.

“Don’t thank us yet,” the soldier warned, casting a wary eye at Tanval.

“The summoning is almost complete!” the Dunmer mage called out, focusing as much as he could on the magicks he was wielding. “Defend me until it’s done!” The words had no sooner been spoken, then a squad of Daggers thundered into the room.

“Take them down!” Tyrna ordered, charging at the Redguard leading them. Arrows from Bakki and Hana thunked into the enemies flanking the leader a moment before the Imperial’s sword connected with his maul. Makayla and Ket moved into position, with the mage unleashing splashes of lightning all across the room, and the templar calling up healing when needed. It didn’t take long for the assault on the crypt to be over, and the group took a moment to catch their breath.

“Balreth! From deepest Oblivion, I summon you! Bind yourself to my will and crush all enemies in your path!” The circle at Tanval’s feet began to pulse and glow with red light. Fire from the candles wrapped around the light, swirling into a pillar that shot to the ceiling. Everyone pulled back as a shape hauled itself out of the ground. Its large skull seemed to be held in place by a skeleton hanging off either shoulder. Other random bones interlocked to form its broad, fifteen-foot tall frame, and fire filled in the gaps. It towered over the focus skull, and Tanval stepped forward with a victorious grin. “Destroy the Daggerfall Covenant assaulting out shores,” he commanded. The creature seemed to stare at the Dark Elf, power coursing through it. Finally it turned and stepped into a portal that shimmered into existence behind it.

“Someone should follow Balreth to make sure the task is completed,” Garyn suggested, steadying his father.

“I’ll go,” Makayla volunteered. Ket immediately latched onto her hand.

“Not without me.” The two Imperials leapt through the portal as it closed, and the chamber darkened.

“Is that it?” Hana wondered, staring at the skull. It continued to pulse red, and flames burned in its sockets.

“Almost,” Tanval whispered. “When Balreth defeats the Covenant, it will return here, and Garyn and I will send it back to Oblivion.” The two Dunmer knelt around the skull, still concentrating their efforts on the ritual.

“Good. We’re leaving the city after that.” Tyrna saw that her comment caused them both to flinch, and Tanval looked up at her.

“So soon? Why?”

“Because you’re an idiot for summoning that thing, and we want to be as far away as
possible,” Bakki shot back.

“That’s enough,” the Sept leader warned. “It’s under control, and soon it’ll be-” The skull suddenly shattered, and the crypt was plunged into darkness. After a moment, they all heard Hana sigh in annoyance.

“Well shit… Now what?”

“No, it can’t be,” Tanval’s exhausted voice drifted towards them.

“What just happened?” Tyrna demanded, trying to adjust her eyes. However, there was no light at all down here, and the sudden vulnerability made her shiver.

“Nothing good,” Bakki reasoned, lighting a torch. The Wood Elf’s eyes glittered in the firelight, and he glared at the Indorils. “My guess is that the ritual just failed.”

“We should get topside,” Garyn told them, hauling his father to his feet. “Nothing further can be done down here.” Tyrna’s hand clamped onto his arm, and the Imperial spun the young man around to face her.

“What. Just. Happened?” she repeated through clenched teeth.

“The worst possible scenario,” he answered, hanging his head. “But my desire to get out of here still stands.”

“I’ll take point,” Hana offered, slipping into the shadows with her bow at the ready. Tyrna once more drew her weapons and followed the Bosmer. Bakki stayed behind Garyn and Tanval, keeping the torch high for the soldier’s benefit. It took some time, but eventually the group spotted daylight. The Imperial paused at the door, suddenly fearful of what might greet her in the city. The rest of the Sept had been fighting off the Covenant attacking Davon’s Watch, while they’d been summoned to aid Tanval. Had they all made it through the attack? Was anyone injured? Tyrna realized that she was starting to regard the Sept not only a fighting unit, but as family. “Hey fearless leader, you staying with the dead?” Hana called out. Rolling her eyes, Tyrna sheathed her weapons and beheld her group. Everyone had made it through the assault, though not completely unscathed. Alana was tending to Nathan’Dar, the Khajiit sporting a broken arm. Greyson stood guard next to her, supporting Respite, who had an arrow in his leg. Stirs-Fear and Sasha were discussing something with Holgunn, while Caidiana and Injects were cleaning their weapons. The blonde Breton looked over and tilted her head.

“What happened to Makayla and Ket?”

“They followed our Deus ex Daedra that Tanval summoned.” All eyes turned towards the elder Dunmer. “But something happened. Now tell us what that was.”

“I’ll tell you!” Makayla’s voice carried over as she and Ketatiera walked purposefully towards the Indorils. “The creature he summoned slipped its chain. Last we saw, it had slaughtered all the Daggers on the beach, and was heading for Ash Mountain.” Silence descended on those gathered, until Alana cleared her throat and stepped forward.

“What did you summon?” she asked.

“Balreth, known as one of the Brothers of Strife. But I thought I could control it,” Tanval tried to explain. “How was I to know-”

“Because your ancestor warned you!” Makayla interrupted. “Just like he tried to warn us. But you thought you were better than them. Now all of Stonefalls is going to pay for your hubris.” No one spoke for another minute, and then Holgunn whispered:

“What can we do to stop it?”

“You said it had been bound before,” Ket realized. “How?”

“By a great mage named Mavros Stilreth. But records of that time are scarce and incomplete. We don’t exactly know how he did it,” Tanval replied.

“We could ask him,” Garyn brought up. When everyone gave him questioning looks, he sighed before continuing. “He’s buried at Othenris, which is a great complex of early Dunmer nobles. If you could find his crypt, you could ask his spirit to tell you.”

“We still need more information of these “Brothers of Strife” if we’re to battle one,” Greyson pointed out.

“There is a shrine to them in the west of the region.” Tanval looked slightly upset as he revealed this. “The Telvanni were attempting a study there last I knew.”

“Telvanni?”

“A noble house of mages,” Alana spoke up. “They claimed neutrality just like the Guild when the war broke out.”

“Which means you don’t trust them,” Tyrna reasoned, looking at the Indorils.

“Would you trust a house of Cyrodiil who didn’t follow the Emperor?” Garyn shot back. “But maybe you can get answers out of them.”

“That still leaves this Balreth running around unchecked,” Stirs-Fear reminded them. “And if he’s as bad as you say, someone might want to run interference.” Tyrna folded her arms and started going over the possibilities.

“All right, here’s the plan: We’re going to divide and conquer as best we can. Stirs-Fear, I want you and Hana to get up to Ash Mountain and try to contain this creature as long as you can.”

“I’ll go too,” Garyn offered. “Since I helped start this mess.”

“Fair enough. Makayla, you and Ket get to Othenris and try and talk to this Mavros. Hopefully seeing a fellow mage will make him want to help.”

“I think I’ll tag along as an unofficial bodyguard,” Respite stated, putting weight on his newly-healed leg. The Imperial nodded and continued her assignments.

“Alana, since you’re our other mage, I need you to speak to these Telvanni about the Brothers of Strife.”

“Which means I’ll be going there as well,” Greyson stated matter-of-factly.

“I’ll go too. Might be interesting to learn about. Plus, someone has to keep an eye on the two of you,” Bakki ventured. Alana turned crimson and ducked her head, but Greyson merely shrugged.

“Sasha, I want you, Injects, Caidiana, and Nathan’Dar to spread out with me in the region. We’ve got posting from the Fighters’ and Mages’ Guild that need to be done.”

“Um, someone also needs to go see The Prophet,” the blonde Breton said. Tyrna cursed and shook her head.

“Damnit, I nearly forgot about the old man. All right Caidiana, you and I will pay him a visit while the others get to work. Everyone know what needs to be done?”

“Yes ma’am!” they all chorused.

“Good, then Sept of Undying Spirit: Dismissed!” The group scattered to begin their preparations and journeys, and Tyrna looked at Caidiana.

“Ready to go see what fool errand he’s got for us now?”

“Maybe it’s actually important.”

“And I might be Empress. Let’s just get this over with…”