Stonefalls: The Guild Hall

Tanval and the rest of those who mattered in Davon’s Watch had given the Sept their blessings to build a suitable place to call their own. All that was left now was to find a spot, draw up some plans, and begin the process. Easier said than done. With renovation taking place throughout the city because of the Covenant invasion, space was at a premium. Three days later, and with still nothing to show for their efforts, Tyrna was ready to give up and just build the guild hall on a hill overlooking the city. That’s when Injects-Hot-Lead came to her, his smile visible beneath his new Khajiit hat. “I’ve found us a spot! It even has a building we can get a start from.” He practically bounced as he spoke, and the others looked over from where they were scattered around the Fighters’ Guild. “Come, and I’ll show you.”

“You heard him, let’s go!” Hana echoed, already at the door. As the others filed out, Nathan’Dar came up to Tyrna, tilting his head.

“This one hopes our scaled friend has an eye for these things.”

“How bad could it be?” Sasha called back, her face splitting into a grin. They traipsed across the city, everyone talking excitedly and wondering how they could have missed this obvious gem. But when they beheld what Injects had discovered, disbelief mixed with dejection. For what they found themselves staring at was the burned out shell of a home. The area had been hardest hit by the Daggers, and most of the residents had simply packed up and moved out, if they were alive at all. Makayla blinked a few times, trying to stifle her giggles.

“So… This is it?” the mage asked.

“I believe they call it a “fixer-upper”.”

“More like a burnt-downer,” Respite shot back.

“It has a foundation, which I heard is very important when not building a mud hut. And there is land, no one is claiming it, and we can build to suit our own taste!” The rest of the Sept looked at one another, until Stirs-Fear stepped forward.

“Ah, the lad thinks big! We should take all this empty space for our own, since no one stayed to stake their claim.”

“Stirs-Fear, we’d need a whole team of crafters and builders to raise a new building,” Tyrna reminded him. He scoffed and waved her concerns away.

“Bah, details, that’s all that is! There’s plenty of crafters here in the city. And builders? I’d wager we put out a call for work, and you’ll have half of Stonefalls lining up to help us. After all, we did save the city and put down that son-of-a-swine Balreth.”

“He does have a point,” Respite brought up. “We could get the Bleakrock refugees to help too.”

“We still need plans to put into place.”

“Let me handle that, ma’am,” Greyson volunteered, saluting his Sept leader.

“Templars are trained for shoring up and rebuilding,” Ket added.

“And as long as the wood’s already cut, we’re pretty handy,” Hana revealed, motioning to the other two Bosmer.

“Fearsome and I will do our part too,” Alana pledged with a small smile.

“We all will,” Caidiana told her.

“Looks like you are outnumbered and out-reasoned,” the Khajiit teased. Tyrna smiled and shook her head.

“Seems that way. All right then, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Stirs-Fear and Sasha, round up some strong backs from the Fighters’ Guild. Caidiana, you talk to the blacksmith and woodworker. Makayla and Alana, head over to the Mages’ Guild and see what kind of wards and things we can set up once everything’s built. Injects, take our Wood Elf friends to the river and start gathering rocks for the walls. Greyson, you and Ket get those plans done as soon as possible. I’ll go find Captain Rana and talk to her about commandeering some of her people. Nathan’Dar, spread the word that we’re looking for anyone willing to work. And if they do a good enough job, we might even pay them.”

“Yes ma’am!” the all chorused, splitting up to their assigned tasks. Tyrna grinned as she headed through the city. This would certainly be a grand undertaking.
* * *

Three weeks of hard work later, Davon’s Watch had a new building. Tyrna and Makayla stood in front of the Sept as they surveyed their handiwork, and even the citizens were talking excitedly amongst themselves. Tanval and Holgunn gently pushed to the front of the crowd, and the Dunmer’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the building. The Nord gave a low whistle, and Tyrna turned to face them. “I take it you approve?”

“It’s very… Telling,” Tanval ventured, licking his lips. The main body of the building was easily the size of his own house, and stood two stories tall. It was made from black rock, and trimmed in gold tones. Red banners with the Sept’s crest of a six-pointed golden star hung from the eaves. Numerous small windows would no doubt allow quite a bit of light into the structure, and the roof was reinforced with wood and pitch. However, what really set it apart was the top of it, where there stood a miniature replica of the White-Gold Tower. All in all, it was an impressive, imposing building.

“You should see the inside,” Makayla invited. “We’ve got room for everyone, plus guest rooms if need be. A training hall, a meeting room, a library, and a mead hall.” Holgunn blinked and looked at Sasha and Stirs-Fear.

“A mead hall?”

“Aye, though it’s tiny compared with back home,” the old man admitted with a shrug. “But at least now I can get a proper drink without having to worry about those bastard Undaunted breaking into “song” every so often.”

“You’re welcome to join us anytime,” Sasha told the other Nord.

“I… Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a mead hall.”

“You mentioned a training hall?” Tanval asked, trying to mentally figure out where everything could be.

“In the basement, sir,” Greyson told him. “We were able to divide it into a martial and magical section.”

“We can’t let our skills get rusty,” Hana ventured. “Then we wouldn’t be heroes.” The citizens all started chuckling, and Tyrna turned to the assembled crowd.

“The Sept of Undying Spirit hereby makes its name known to the citizens of Davon’s Watch, Stonefalls, and all of the Ebonheart Pact. We are your protectors, your guardians, and your stalwart defenders. No Covenant, no Dominion, and no Daedra will assault you while we stand vigil. And if any of you wish to join us, our door is open.” Cheers went up as the Sept headed into their new home, and Tyrna shut the door behind her and sighed heavily.

“A fine speech, lass,” Stirs-Fear praised.

“I meant every word.”

“Great, so now every little problem they have, we’ll be the first ones they find,” Respite teased as he rolled his eyes.

“And our names will become more known,” Makayla reminded him.

“That’s not always a good thing,” Nathan’Dar pointed out. “Our enemies will know just where to find us as well.”

“Let them come!” Sasha challenged, smacking her fist into her palm.

“They will not find us easy to defeat,” Injects echoed.

“No, they won’t,” Tyrna agreed with a nod. “But for now, I think we’ve earned some rest. So tonight will just be us, celebrating as only we can.”

“To the kitchen!” the Argonian shouted, eagerly followed by Respite and Hana.

“To the mead hall!” Stirs-Fear called, most of the others trailing after him.

“To the library,” Alana said softly, disappearing down the hall. Ket and Makayla nodded and headed after her, wanting some peace and quiet. Greyson looked at his commanding officer, who was grinning.

“Soldier, to the training hall.” He snapped a salute and smiled as well.
* * *

Much later that night, everyone was gathered in what had been deemed “The War Council” room. An oval table donated by the Fighters’ Guild sat in the center, large enough for everyone to sit comfortably around it. Plans and sketches of the region were laid out on it, but those went ignored for the moment. Most had a drink in front of them, and they ranged from water to much stronger stuff. Stirs-Fear had a keg between himself, Sasha, and Hana, which the three of them took turns refilling their mugs from. “So, I was thinking that we should probably get to know each other a little better,” Tyrna told them, draining her wine glass and pouring more from a bottle she and Caidiana were sharing.

“Get to know each other?” Ket inquired.

“Yes. We’re going to be living and fighting together, so we need to get things sorted out up front. Where people come from, what we can do, and even what we might be looking forward to once this is all over.”

“This an Imperial standard or something?” Sasha wondered, raising an eyebrow. Her Sept leader didn’t seem like the type to discuss feelings or personal issues, so maybe she was just falling back on protocol.

“Hardly,” Makayla replied. “Unless it’s a Legion thing?”

“Partially,” Greyson admitted with a shrug. “New recruits are often asked what we’re capable of to better determine where our skills will be most useful.”

“Ah, so it’s to better judge our strengths,” Hana added. “I can accept that.”

“So why don’t you start,” Respite prompted. Tyrna looked taken aback for a moment, before hanging her head.

“I don’t… I don’t remember who I was. I know my name, and that I was a soldier in Cyrodiil. Past that, no clue. Greyson seems to think I wasn’t a common soldier.”

“Of course you weren’t,” Makayla agreed. Tyrna looked up and tilted her head at the mage. “What?”

“Did we know each other, Makayla?” Immediately the blonde held up her hands.

“Of course not! But you’re not just a soldier, Tyrna. You have the bearing of a commander.” Greyson nodded and continued:

“See ma’am, I’m not the only one who can tell.” The Sept leader frowned and sighed heavily. She was pretty sure there was something they weren’t telling her, but at the moment she was willing to let it go.

“All right, then let’s hear about you, miss mage.”

“Who, me?” Makayla asked, seeming surprised.

“I’m not looking at Alana.”

“Well, I mean… There’s not much to tell… Ket, you can go.” The templar grinned and nodded, clearing her throat.

“Well, I’m a registered battle healer with the Imperial Order of Templar Knights, so I spent quite a bit of time at the Mages’ Tower. That’s where I met Makayla. And even though she was studying to become the next Archmage, she still found time to be with me! Isn’t that just amazing, that she’d take notice of little, old me?” Stunned silence followed, and Makayla shot her companion a glare that would’ve cowed lesser people, but Ket merely grinned and looked confused. “What, you said for me to go.”

“I meant just about you,” came the mumbled response.

“Wait, so she’s-” Bakki began, before Respite cut him off.

“Yeah. Normally our targets don’t present themselves so nicely.”

“Targets?” Makayla and Ket asked.

“Look, we’re… Ah, Y’ffre’s beard, I might as well tell you. We’re royal assassins. Queen Ayrenn-” The archer began, before Stirs-Fear interjected.

“Ayrenn? Six-and-a-half hands tall, fierce countenance, blonde hair, eyes like the heart of a glacier, and one fine-looking Elven ass?” The two assassins stared at the Nord, neither of them sure what to say.

“This one believes you mean to say you’ve met the Queen?” Nathan’Dar offered.

“If by “meet” you mean we took a tumble at an inn, then yes.” Jaws hit the floor.

“Provost, you bedded royalty?!”

“Don’t sound so shocked, lass,” he gently chastised Sasha. “I was once much younger, and I needed to beat the women off me just to catch my breath. It was during these times that I met a fiery, independent High Elf, and we traveled together for a bit. She saved my life, I saved hers, we got to drinking, and the rest is history.”

“You must’ve been very good,” Respite revealed. “She hasn’t issued any orders to kill you, unlike some other ex-lovers.”

“And if I see her again, I’ll remind her of those times,” the old man said with a grin. The Bosmer cleared his throat and picked up his original line:

“Anyway, Queen Ayrenn’s orders were to go to Cyrodiil to see about any potential threats to the Dominion.” Neither Respite nor Bakki looked guilty or ashamed, and all the Imperials turned hard eyes towards them.

“And what threat did we pose?” the mage asked, smiling sweetly. However, there was an aura about her that spoke of dire consequences should the wrong answer be given.

“Little, actually,” Bakki told her. “We determined that you were content to continue with the status quo in the Empire, and wouldn’t be advising the Emperor to suddenly come invading any Dominion territory.”

“Well, that’s good… I guess,” Ket said with a shrug. Respite pointed at her and Makayla and motioned to their hands.

“By the way, can you clarify something for me?”

“What?” the mage asked, still a bit wary.

“Those are actual rings of Mara, right?” When both women nodded, he again motioned between them. “So does that mean you two are bound?”

“You thought we might both have men back in the Imperial City?”

“Can you just answer the question?”

“We’d been married a few months before the Soulburst. When Mannimarco’s people finally breached the Tower’s defenses, they caught quite a few of us.” Makayla’s hands curled into fists for a moment, and Ket gently laid her head on her wife’s shoulder. Respite nodded and grinned a bit, but Bakki shook his head and pulled out his coin pouch. Passing the other Wood Elf a couple of gold pieces, he crossed his arms and slouched back in his chair.

“Told you so,” Respite teased, pocketing the money.

“Wait… You had a bet going?” Ket inquired, slightly stunned.

“Yup.” Tyrna could tell that Makayla was done talking, and swung her attention to the last of her countrymen.

“Greyson, what about you?”

“Ma’am?”

“You said you were First Legion. Were you in the city when… When it all turned to hell?” Greyson stiffened for a moment, lips pursing together.

“My squad was patrolling when we were ambushed. But not by Worm Cultists… By our own people. They said they came on the Empress’ orders, and we were to be immediately taken into custody as traitors.”

“Traitors?!” Alana squeaked, surprised by this admission.

“Because we still wanted to find Emperor Varen. We didn’t give up hope that he was still alive and would return to kill Mannimarco and his people.”

“So part of the First Legion was in on it?” Tyrna whispered. She seemed to be trying to piece things together, but shook her head as the memories eluded her.

“So it seems,” the soldier admitted with a sigh. “One by one they asked if we would forswear our allegiance to the Emperor and make oaths to serve Mannimarco.”

“What did you say?” Caidiana wondered, pretty sure she knew the answer.

“I told them that a soldier of Cyrodiil doesn’t go back on his word. That they would need to kill me before I ever agreed to follow them.” The words were soft, but there was such strength and conviction behind them that everyone felt a shiver run through them. Stirs-Fear stood and walked over to the young man, clapping a meaty hand on his shoulder and smiling.

“You did well, lad. And we’ll take the fight to the Worms yet.”

“I’ll have that bastard’s head for what he’s done to our people.”

“His and Molag Bal’s,” Hana added. “Do you think we could mount them over the door?” All eyes turned towards her, and she blinked back at them. “What?”

“It’s a fine idea, Half-Pint,” the old Nord said as he sat down again.

“So… Who’s next?” Alana wondered, looking around the table.

“How about you, pup?” Sasha shot back, grinning.

“Me?!” The healer blushed, and then fidgeted on her chair. Fearsome placed a claw on her arm, and she pet the Clannfear on the head. “I’m not anyone important. Just an apprentice healer at the Wayrest Mages’ Guild.”

“I came from Daggerfall myself,” Caidiana spoke up.

“Where you turned down fifty marriage proposals,” Hana teased. The blonde Breton turned red for a moment, and Alana looked over in confusion.

“Fifty? Wait, are you nobility?”

“Minor,” came the quick reply.

“Same here.” Looks passed back and forth between the Bretons, and Tyrna opened her mouth, closed it, and then finally spoke.

“Nobles? Both of you?” Caidiana and Alana nodded, and the healer continued:

“My family’s been part of the magick defense of the city since its’ earliest days. We’re not very powerful, so we get overlooked by the other families a lot.”

“I just come from a merchant family that’s done well the last few generations,” Caidiana admitted. “Didn’t matter a damn when the Worms grabbed me.”

“How did that happen?” Nathan’Dar wondered.

“I was out practicing late one night, and they ganged up on me.”

“Practicing?”

“I was sent to the Knights of the Dragon, to at least be useful. I liked training alone, and didn’t think anything of walking around by myself. Bastards took advantage of that to grab me, knock me out, and drag me wherever it was they killed me.”

“Alana, how did they get you?” Greyson was instantly sorry he’d asked the question, as the girl pulled her knees up onto the chair and stared at the table.

“They broke into our training hall, saying that any who opposed the might of the new Empire would be seized and done away with. We fought back, naturally, but there were too many, and they were better trained. Most of us were captured, but they killed our instructors in front of us, to see if that would change our minds. Some… Some relented and swore allegiance to the Worm Cult. The rest of us…” She dropped her head into her chest, and Fearsome trilled softly.

“It’s over now,” Ket told her. “You’re safe here among friends.”

“And you’ve even got a bodyguard,” Makayla added with a wink. Alana blushed and buried her head further down for a moment, but she was smiling a bit when she looked back up.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Tyrna was starting to regret starting all of this, when Injects stood up with a broad smile.

“It is my turn then?”

“Sure,” the Sept leader said with some hesitation. But really, how bad could his-

“I kill Dunmer!” the Argonian proudly stated. Silence descended on the room, and he looked around as if expecting questions. They soon followed.

“For sport?” Respite wondered.

“For food?” Hana wanted to know.

“For vengeance?” Nathan’Dar asked.

“I kill Dunmer who have enslaved my people in the past, I kill those who enslave them still, and I kill Dunmer who might make slaves of my people in the future.”

“…How can you know about that last part?” Tyrna asked. Injects frowned and stroked his chin for a moment.

“Come to think of it, most Dunmer fall into that last category. So I suppose my first statement is the most accurate.”

“You do realize we’re in a city full of Dark Elves, right?” Caidiana reminded him.

“Yes, and I have not yet had cause to kill any of them. Though perhaps that Tanval needed killing for other reasons…”

“Agreed,” Makayla said with an exasperated sigh.

“So do the Dunmer know about you?” Bakki wondered.

“No,” Injects replied with a slight shake of his head. “Not specifically, anyway. They know that in some parts of Shadowfen, Dark Elves go in, but they do not emerge.”

“Are you a Shadowscale?” The Argonian clicked his tongue and frowned. Of course the Bosmer assassins would know about them.

“A what?” Caidiana asked, looking very puzzled.

“Shadowscales are born under the sign of Sithis and trained from birth to be his right hands. It is a noble calling.”

“Sithis?” Sasha rolled the word around for a moment, eventually deciding she would not be able to pronounce the S quite the same as her scaled friend.

“Our creator god. He is the All and the Void, the Beginning and the End.”

“And he trains assassins?” Tyrna prodded. Injects shrugged and grinned.

“That the other gods do not is worse for them, don’t you agree?”

“That’s one way of looking at it…” Ket said with a frown.

“Would you prefer I swore not to kill any Dunmer without the consent of at least one other Sept member?”

“That might be a good idea,” Greyson agreed. “Random killing will get us in trouble very quickly.”

“Nathan’Dar volunteers to be the second voice for our noble Argonian.”

“Nathan’Dar, I get the feeling you hate Dark Elves as well,” Alana spoke up.

“Hate is a strong word, little Breton. This one prefers to explain that he has a preferred dislike and revulsion towards the red-eyed, dark-skinned Elves.”

“But you’re not a killer by nature,” Respite pointed out. “So it might be okay.”

“Of course Nathan’Dar is no killer!” the Khajiit said, hand over his heart like he had been wounded. “As he said before, this one is a purveyor of things not originally his. Killing is for those who do not know how to properly sneak away.”

“Look, what you all do outside these walls and on your own is your business,” Tyrna finally said. “But if you do anything to jeopardize either our ultimate mission or the lives of anyone here, you will answer directly to me.” The emphasis on the last word told them all that the consequences of such actions would be dire.

“So, um… Hana, I guess it’s your turn?” Ket prompted, hoping to diffuse the tension. The Bosmer fidgeted in her seat for a moment.

“Not much to tell. My sister and I were orphaned at a young age, and I did my best to put food on the table. We lived in a place called Whisper Grove, in Greenshade.”

“Isn’t that the city that refused to become part of the Dominion?” Hana shrugged at Respite’s question.

“I don’t really think we need an Altmer telling us what to do,” she shot back. “But anyway, other than my desire to become a Vinedusk Ranger, there’s not much to say.”

“Vinedusk Ranger?” Caidiana echoed. “Who are they?”

“A group of Bosmer who protect the realm from anything and everything.”

“And they’re exempt from the Green Pact,” Bakki added.

“What is this Green Pact, anyway?” Makayla wondered.

“The Bosmeri agreement with the forest,” Hana told them. “We protect everything that grows, and can only harvest plants that are dead or fallen. It also means we eat meat.”

“And only meat,” Respite put in.

“Including people, right?” A few of the Sept fidgeted as the three Wood Elves nodded at Tyrna’s question. “But not us, right?”

“No, only enemies. And only before three days have passed,” Hana explained.

“There are very strict rules,” Respite agreed.

“Have you ever eaten Dunmer?” Injects asked.

“We try not to,” the male archer revealed.

“Why is that?”

“They have a burnt flavor,” Hana told him, sticking out her tongue in mild disgust. Alana again turned a bit green, and Caidiana put her head in her hands.

“Saved the best for last, did ya?” Stirs-Fear commented as he stood. “Now it’ll be the proud Son and Daughter of Skyrim’s turn to go.”

“Well, we know you were a Provost of the Fighters’ Guild,” Ket remembered.

“And you slept with the High Elf Queen,” Nathan’Dar added.

“Aye, but there’s so much more,” the old man sighed. “Too much to tell in one evening. The bards still sing of my adventures back home.”

“So how did the Worm Cult catch you?” Tyrna asked. Stirs-Fear shrugged and flexed an arm.

“By numbers and deceit. They laced some daggers with poison to slow me down, then threw a whole horde of followers at me. Twenty, thirty, I lost count how many I sent screaming to their precious Prince. But eventually, the bastards took me down. And now I’m back for another round. Speaking of another round…” He turned and filled his mug again, downing it in a few quick chugs. Sasha grinned and stood as well.

“My family are fishermen from up north, and I joined the Fighters’ Guild when I went to market at Whiterun for the first time. I hadn’t had a chance to travel before now, though I could’ve done without losing my soul.”

“Any potential suitors waiting for you?” Caidiana teased. Sasha scoffed and tapped the greatsword at her back.

“Men, marriage, and mini-Nords will have to wait. Besides, we’re a bit more relaxed when it comes to all that compared to the rest of you. Courting is less formal.”

“How so?” Alana leaned forward, eyes wide.

“If you like a man, you prove you’ll be a good wife. Going out and killing a boar, stuffing it with fresh herbs you picked, and roasting it over a fire for the two of you to share is a good start.”

“And if you want to impress the ladies, nothing says it like bringing them the head of the biggest troll you can find!” Stirs-fear interjected with a chuckle.

“Right you are!” Sasha agreed with a laugh. Looks of confusion and bewilderment passed around the table, and Tyrna shook her head and snickered.

“Well then, off to bed with everyone. Thanks for indulging my curiosity.” Nods and smiles came from everyone as the Sept bedded down in their own rooms. Tyrna stared at the ceiling over her bed, wondering how long the peace would last before either the Covenant or Molag Bal did something to shatter it…