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Power Corrupts: Underhanded Tactics (ch. 43)
🕑 Added 2020-08-15 15:02:08 +0000 UTC"Who would want Nenya dead?" Jarl Siddgeir questioned, his tone colored with grief. He looked at me, eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night, directly at the man who had accidentally gotten her killed, "Do you think it was the Orcs? Or… who…?"
I sure as fuck wasn't going to say that it was me and the Dark Brotherhood. "I doubt it was the Orcs. They wouldn't have had an opportunity to posion anyone, and they wouldn't have had a motive to kill Nenya of all people," I said before I decided to do whatever it took to cover my tracks. "Given her race… my bet is Stormcloaks."
We sat in his personal study, a richly decorated that was slightly trashed by the number of wine bottles scattered about. The dude had a liver of pure iron apparently or he knew some restoration magic on the sly. Jarl Siddgeir nodded slowly as he drained another cup of wine like it was water, holding it together with both hands that trembled with grief and rage.
"Yes… yes, more than once those… traitors had claimed that I should dismiss Nenya because she was Altmer. Nevermind that she had served this Hold for sixty years without fail or incident," he muttered darkly. Then his shoulders slumped, "But poison? The 'True Sons of Skyrim?'"
I shifted in my seat on top of his desk since none of the chairs would fit me. "What… if they hired the Dark Brotherhood?" It would look suspicious if I didn't mention the possibility, right?
Jarl Siddgeir shook his head, "No… no, that couldn't be possible." He said and that was a rather odd way to say it. My brow furrowed as I looked down at the man, a suspicion starting to form in the back of my mind.
"Why not? I don't know of any other assassins that could pull off a poisoning in the middle of a feast," I pressed. A feast that was called off because me of accidentally killing Nenya. But she had it coming for trying to kill me in the first place.
"Because of our deal," Jarl Siddgeir muttered, making me go still. I'm guessing that he really was drunk because there was no way he would drop a bomb like that if he was sober. "Weeee… let them stay in Falkreath on the condition that a portion of each job goes to our coffers and they can't take the lives of the nobility in this Hold." Okay. That explained how the Imperials managed to find where the Dark Brotherhood was located in the game -- Jarl Siddgeir sold them out when they tried to take out the emperor.
It also raised a rather worrying concern. They had broken their deal with Nenya simply because I paid better. So, that left me with two options -- kill them all to cover my tracks, to sweeten the pot to make sure that they never flip on me.
"Okay," I accepted that with a frown. I would need to buy their silence as well because I couldn't trust them to just keep their mouths shut. "Beyond Stormcloaks, did Nenya have any enemies?" I questioned, wondering if I would be on that list considering that she had tried to kill me.
Jarl Siddgeir shook his head in frustration, having answered that question before. "No! No, everyone loved Nenya. She was like the mother that I never had," he murmured quietly. "I… maybe the poison was meant for me? I… I have enemies. No one likes a young Jarl… my Uncle isn’t happy that I usurped the position from him… and the bandits I made deals with aren't following through on their end…"
Yeah, he was really drunk. "Bandits?"
"Hmmmm… we had a deal that I would look the other way if they split the loot with me. But I did the math! Well, Nenya did the math… Nenya… well… they, uh, they weren't giving us what we were owed for letting them stay. I was going to have you go and kill them all," he informed, earning a nod from me. "I had to do it. The Hold needed the money…"
I didn't argue with him as I sat on an expensive desk in a finely decorated room with bottles of expensive wine littering it. It certainly didn't seem like the Hold needed the money but more of that Jarl Siddgeir wanted the money.
"I'm going to go deal with those bandits to see if they had caught wind of you ending the deal. And I'll do whatever I can to find out who is responsible for Nenya's death," I promised, feeling really bad about it. She had tried to kill me, so I was hardly broken up about her death. However, Jarl Siddgeir clearly was and the culprit was standing in the same room as him as he begged for me to find justice for her murder.
"Thank you…" Jarl Siddgeir said, looking up at me briefly before he turned to open another bottle of wine. He had attendants so I doubt he was going to drink himself to death, so I simply nodded and left him alone in his study. I closed the door with a thunk before a small sigh escaped me.
"What a mess," I cursed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Why couldn't anything ever be simple? Two things were clear -- I needed to sweeten the pot with the Brotherhood and I needed to find out why Nenya had tried to kill me. Because that had come out of the left field. I couldn't even start to think of a motive without dipping into conspiracy theories.
But this wasn't the time to sit and dwell on it. I had my next quest and an armor upgrade to get.
I walked towards the entrance of the keep, the decorations from the feast still up. The food was all being burned and destroyed by the plate -- it seemed like a waste but given that no one had any idea if it was poisoned or not, it was judged to be better safe than sorry. Aela and Farkas stood at the door, both dressed in their armor.
"Any leads?" Aela questioned as we left the building.
"The bandits that were going to take out might have had motive since Nenya was working with them on the down-low. Either that or the Stormcloaks," I answered as we walked towards the warehouse my wagon was stored.
"Just Nenya?" Aela questioned, sounding like she doubted that. "And how would a common bandit act as an assassin?"
"Because the common bandit is the Ex-Champion of Boethiah," I answered, making both Aela and Farkas go still. "Apparently he left the life behind of serving a Daedric Prince to run a group of bandits."
Farkas let out a chuckle, "My fights used to be far less interesting before you came around. It was bandits, Falmer, and the occasional grumpy bear. Now it's Deathlords, Dragon-Priests and Daedric Champions." It sounded like he was overjoyed. "At least I'll get something to test my new sword on."
"And my bow," Aela agreed as we got my wagon.
"Glad I could be of service," I said as I pushed out of the warehouse. The wagon was light, telling me that the chest of gold was gone. So the Dark Brotherhood had accepted their payment. A king’s ransom. And I was going to pay them more because it was easier to pay them than to kill them all.
As if to prove it, as we walked the main road with Farkas and Aela hopping into the wagon, I saw Babette standing by the city gate. She wore the same simple red dress that she wore last time with a basket full of flowers. Most noticeably, she was looking right at me, a flower pinched between her fingers.
“Wait one second,” I said, leaving the wagon behind for a moment to approach her. I kept my pace even, trying to look like I wasn’t nervous -- I was certain that I could kill her, but there was a lot more at stake than a single life.
“A flower for you, Jericho, Thane of Whiterun and Falkreath,” She greeted me, presenting me with a flower. A note was slipped around the stem.
“Not quite yet,” I said, accepting the flower and pinching the note to unfurl it. A single word was written on it.
Thalmor.
That bitch was a part of the Thalmor. The Thalmor tried to kill me. Was it a stroke of opportunity or did they have reasons to target me already? Either way, that was as bad as it could possibly be. I was hoping that Nenya simply hadn’t liked the look of me or something. If she was taking orders, then this got a lot more complicated.
“Thank you,” I said, looking at Babbete. “I have a job if you’re interested.” To that, Babette blinked innocently at me, holding out a hand expectantly for a coin.
“The Brotherhood would be happy to help such a well connected and wealthy patron,” Babette said, her smile revealing a hint of her fangs. You know, looking at her, I decided that the trope of century-old loli creeped me the hell out.
“In total, it’ll be the same amount I just gave you for the contract,” I started, and despite her age, I saw her eyes widen a fraction at that. She was caught off guard by just how much money I had to throw around. Good. Because I had more than I knew what to do with, and if throwing it around got their loyalty then I would make it rain on them. “Half to arrange for me to find evidence of a culprit for Nenya’s assassination… And another half for your silence in all endeavors.”
Babette giggled, “Such things are left to the Thieves Guild, but I believe an exception can be arranged. As for our silence, you have it.” She reassured, yet given what I had just learned, I still had my doubts. I wasn’t ever going to trust the Dark Brotherhood. Not when they’ve proven they’re willing to bite the hand that fed them for a bigger meal.
“Glad to hear it. I hope that we can work together for quite some time,” I said, before adding, “Could I get another flower?” I asked, dropping the appropriate amount of money into her palm.
“I believe that we will,” She answered as she passed me a second flower. With our business concluded, she performed a small curtsy before she wandered off down a street before vanishing from sight entirely. That had gone as well as it could have. I couldn’t trust it, but it seemed that until I wasn’t the one paying them the most, I didn’t have to worry about them.
“What was that about?” Farkas questioned as I walked back to the wagon, raising an eyebrow at the flowers in my hands. With a smirk, I passed one over to him and the other to Aela, who accepted the flower with a cocked eyebrow. “Why are you giving me a flower?”
“Didn’t want you to feel left out,” I answered as I got ready to push the wagon again. Farkas gave me an eat-shit grin but he put his nose to the flower all the same while Aela looked down at hers.
“Charming. Smells pretty,” Farkas remarked and with that, we were off.
…
Dense forest and mountainous terrain were an absolute pain to navigate, I found as we walked vaguely to the west. My map function made sure that we didn’t get lost, but when it came to telling if we were nearing our target, then it was pretty useless. Without a small blip on the map to mark location, which acted as a guide, it would be next to impossible to find Knifepoint Ridge.
“We’re lost, aren’t we?” Farkas asked as we wandered the forest, searching for what should be a large encampment of bandits that needed killing. Then maybe I could look into setting up mining towns around here as well. I’m not exactly sure when it became my priority to mine every single spec of wealth from the planet, but I didn’t exactly have a problem with it. I wanted to be the only source of metal, any kind of metal, in all of Skyrim. Just because.
“I know how to get back to the road, so technically we’re not lost,” I corrected, glancing at him. He wore the flower tucked behind his ear to be an ass. “I’m just not sure how to find the ridge. It’s not like the bandits are going to make their hideout obvious, you know?”
Aela let out a sigh, “There should be a tower in this area. I’ve stayed in it before. If we can find it, then we can get a decent view of the area and find our way to the ridge.” And that was fair enough, I thought as I looked around for any obvious hint of a tower in the middle of the forest. Unsurprisingly, there was none.
Frowning lightly, I wondered if I had an easy solution to the problem we faced. I eyed the trees, wondering if I should strip off my armor and climb up one to try to find the tower. Then I recalled a perk that I had that hadn’t seen a lot of use, simply because there was never much of a need. I took in a long, slow breath, and for the first time I paid attention to actual scents.
The perk bloodhound was an odd one. It was more of an active perk compared to the rest that was passive. When I was breathing normally, it didn’t really feel much different once I got used to the influx of scents at the start. However, when I focused on my sense of smell, it was like taking a magnifying glass to each scent, letting me examine them in far greater detail. Almost to the point that it was overwhelming.
I smelled dirt, trees, grass -- scents of nature. I could also smell myself -- oil, blood, and cinnamon. Sorting through the scents, I tried to find something that didn’t belong. Something that wasn’t us and wasn’t natural to a forest. I took in a couple of deep breaths, searching for something, and right when I was about to toss in the flag, the wind shifted.
And I smelled smoke and wine.
"This way," I said, gesturing in the direction slightly to the right of what we had been walking.
"That's some confidence for someone that's lost," Farkas commented, earning a cocky smirk from me.
"We're not lost. Bet on it," I shot back as I led the way. Farkas made a dismissive noise as he shook his head, not taking me up on it.
"No, I know better than to challenge anyone when they look that smug," Farkas answered, earning an amused huff from Aela as we walked. I chuckled as well, trying to follow the scent for a few minutes. The smell grew stronger as we neared a small cliff that was about the size of a tree, and once I looked up it, I saw a glimpse of a tower that overlooked the forest.
"Found it," I said, following the ridgeline in search of a way to get up to the tower. Picking a direction, we followed the ridgeline to get up to the tower.
"And that's why I don't take bets when people act smug," Farkas reasoned as we started walking again. "Even if they could be bluffing."
"I thought you stopped gambling when you lost your armor and weapon back when you were a recruit," Aela teased and earned a good nature chuckle from Farkas.
"No. That taught me never to gamble with Kajheets. We were both cheating at cards, but they're a lot better at it," Farkas corrected with a careless shrug. "Vilkas was pissed though. Made me walk all the way back to Whiterun in my underclothes since he wouldn't lend me anything to wear. And I really pissed him off when I wasn't ashamed of it at all." He said, sounding proud.
"I remember that day. You made a big show of throwing the doors open, wearing next to nothing, stood there long enough to make sure everyone had seen you, then walked off like nothing had happened." Aela bantered as we walked. "It was just after I had joined. Weren't you embarrassed?"
"No. I knew I looked good," Farkas stated, eating a laugh from both of us. Unfortunately, the good cheer was forced to come to an abrupt end when Aela reached out to grab me, making me go still. I paused midstep, looking around for what was going on, but she pointed down. And it was then that I noticed that I had nearly walked into a bear trap.
I doubt it would have done anything, but it was the principle of it.
"Looks like we're heading the right way," I noted as I spotted a few other disguised traps. My gaze found a spot where we could get onto the cliff. I gestured towards it and with our feet to the ground, we made our way towards the tower. Though, not before we stumbled across a trap that had snared some unfortunate prey.
A man was slumped against a tree, his hands covered in blood as a trap had flat out cut the bottom half of his leg off. From the look of it, he had been dead for some time. But it was the confirmation that we needed that whoever was parked in the tower were bandits.
Making our way up, I saw the first glimpse of the tower. It blended in rather well -- it was half-collapsed with piles of stone laying around it while filth and vines covered the exterior. I also spotted the source of wine and smoke -- a fire with three men around it.
"They're mine," Aela informed quietly as she took out her bow. The ebony one she had picked up from Bowman the Deathlord and knocked an arrow. Farkas and I hung back, ready to intervene but doubting that we would have to. Aela took in a deep breath as she readied her bow, and with noticeably more effort than her previous one, she knocked back the arrow and let it fly.
It raced forward in a blur that I was certain I was the only one that could actually follow its flight path. I watched it punch through the fur armor that one bandit was wearing, then through his chest, before escaping at the other side at a greatly reduced speed. It happened so quickly that the guy actually stood up, looking in our general direction before he noticed that he was injured.
Before he could even fall, Aela fired another arrow, this one catching a bandit in the eye. The two of them fell over in near unison, leaving the last one alive. He looked at his friends with wide eyes, his hands grasping for his weapon in his belt, right up until a third arrow slammed through his throat. He gargled for a moment, collapsing to his knees as blood pumped from the wound because the arrow had went straight through him.
Aela got up, another arrow ready, but the three men seemed to be the only ones nearby.
“It has a tough draw, but I like it,” Aela decided as we neared the tower. I went to step inside, but Aela stopped me again with a teasing smile. “It would be best if someone who was a little lighter went up first,” She commented, making me consider that for a moment. The place looked like it was falling apart, and having someone that weighed a quarter of a ton in armor stomping around wasn’t going to do good things to the structural integrity.
“Fair enough,” I agreed, staying put while Aela walked into the building. Farkas waited until he Aela had disappeared up the stairs before he turned to me, an eyebrow cocked. And I knew exactly what he was getting at without him having to say a word.
“Nothings happened, and I’m not sure if anything ever will, but… you know,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. "She's flirting. I'm flirting back. And Hestia is okay with it."
Farkas blinked at that before he shrugged, "I see what you mean by your relationship being complicated. Your both friends of mine, so I wish you both happiness. Just try not to make a mess if it doesn't work out," he said, giving me a nod. I was actually kinda caught off guard by his easy acceptance. I was expecting… jealousy, maybe?
However, before I could say anything back, Aela's footsteps broke the brief silence as I gathered my thoughts. Both of us turned to her to find that she was cleaning blood off a knife.
"There were another three sleeping. They had a rotation of shifts," She figured. "This was an outpost to keep an eye on the road.
"Six men is a bit much for an outpost," Farkas said.
"Not if they can spare the men. I saw knife ridge point. It looks like an old mining town that got turned into a fortress. Tall wood walls, and a lot of bandits. Dozens of them from the looks of it with who knows how many in the tunnels,” Aela informed grimly. “The terrain favors them -- we won’t be able to get close without them noticing.”
Normally I would shrug my shoulders and dismiss stealth as an option altogether, but given that we were up against the Ex-champion of Boethiah… well, I had concerns. The Ebony Mail was a step above trash in the game, but I had my doubts that it would be the same case here. I really didn’t want to rush in half-cocked.
“We could wait until they send out a patrol, pick them off, then pick off the ones that investigate,” Farkas offered a solution. “They’ll wisen up quickly, but it’ll then them out a bit before we hit them.”
“Maybe if their leader wasn’t the Ex-Champion to Daedric Prince of deceit, secrecy, and conspiracy. I can’t see him not figuring out what’s up quickly then turning the situation around on us,” I said with a shake of my head. My gaze drifted over to Aela and her bow for a moment, then I thought of a possible solution. “What could work is if I don’t bother with stealth at all. I try to drag out the Ex-Champion, then you hit him with your bow. With him gone, it’s just mopping up.”
Aela and Farkas shared a look before they shrugged. "A Champion of Boethiah hardly deserves an honorable death. An arrow to the back will suffice," Aela agreed to the plan with a nod.
"Sounds good to me. Let's go kill some bandits."
…
This felt like the War Game, I mused as I approached, walking up in full view towards a beaten out path to the bandit camp. Not the sense of dread or that I was helplessly outmatched, or anything. More in the sense that I was attacking another fortified encampment. But things were different this time. I was a level two, I had backup and there was only one enemy I had to worry about instead of hundreds.
To help capture the feeling, I scooped up a rock as I walked, running a thumb over the surface as I spotted a sentry not paying attention. The walls were made of wood, but they looked strong. Each log was thick and there were no gaps between each log. The encampment ran along a ridge -- if the Jarl had sent normal soldiers, then they would get slaughtered on the way to the gate.
It would take hundreds to root out the bandits. Maybe less with a few mages, but a handful of archers would pick the incoming soldiers to pieces.
Or, just one of me.
I held my rock for a second before I lobbed it at the sentry. The rock sailed forward and practically vaporized his head, sending blood and bone flying. I know there was an argument for picking up a proper ranged weapon, but rocks were just so convenient. They took no skill to use, and they were everywhere. And when they were thrown by me, they were far more effective than an arrow could ever hope to be.
I heard shouting come from the inside, prompting me to pick up some more rocks. I was the distraction while Aela and Farkas snuck up by climbing the ridge. The more eyes on me, the fewer on them. More archers stuck their heads out, ready to defend their home, and each one was felled with a rock to the face. The few that wore helmets managed to avoid their head being destroyed, only for it to get caved-in instead.
To make a point, I continued to stroll up to the gate that they had erected, a few more archers daring to take a shot at me and they died for their stupidity. I was decked in heavy armor and I was keenly aware of the few weaknesses that I had left. By the time I reached the door, a dozen of the archers had died. If there were more than they had learned from those that had died and didn't show themselves. I reached over to grab my sword, the ebony greatsword flaring to life as I did before I plunged it into the gap in the gate.
The thick iron reinforced plank melted like butter before my sword, allowing me to dramatically kick open the gate. A dozen bandits were in position to stop me with more coming from the mine, yet when I stepped forward, they flinched back.
And I don't think I've ever felt more powerful before as I did at that moment. I felt utterly unstoppable.
Arrows bounced off my armor as I strode forward towards the waiting bandits, keeping my pace at a relaxed stroll. They surged towards me, screaming a warcry, but I quickly silenced them. They washed over me like a wave, but I cut them down like grass, and the encampment was filled with the stench of death and charred meat. In seconds, I was surrounded by corpses, and the dozen or so remaining hesitated to rush towards me.
So, I closed the distance between us. I surged forward, moving in a blur, and hacked a bandit in half before he realized what was happening. And by the time that the bandits thought to flee, most of them were dead. The few left died with their backs turned to me.
I looked around the encampment to see that it was fairly organized. There were buildings, perches along the wall, tables to eat at, and so on. What's more, judging by the bodies, there were quite a few of them. Over forty in total counting the six at the tower. That wasn't a small number for bandits, I've learned. Most had about a dozen or so, maybe around twenty.
These bandits were well established.
My gaze swept over the camp but it settled on the entrance to the mine. The door was left open, letting me see that no one was walking trying to leave the mine. So I hadn't managed to bait out the Ex-Champion. Okay. How about this then?
I walked towards the entrance and took in a deep breath, before shouting, "Come and face me Champion of Boethiah! Fight under the light of the sun for the first time in your life!" My taunt echoed through the tunnels, and I had no doubt that he heard it. He was touchy about being the Ex-Champion in the game and I was hoping that he was enough to rise to my provocation.
Stepping back, I kept my eyes on the entrance, and out of the corner of my expanded vision, I saw Aela line up a shot. Hopefully, I wouldn't need her to bail me out, but better safe than sorry.
There was a long beat of silence. Long enough that I nearly walked back to the entrance of the mine and started shouting again, but I felt his presence before I saw him. An uneasy feeling in my stomach warned me that he was coming, except it was anxiety. It was like acid was pooling in my gut and with every second, it grew stronger. My mouth flooded with excess saliva, and swallowing it down seemed to make it worse.
My eyes began to itch like something was drying them out like a sponge before they began to burn. I coughed once, bile nearly jumping up my throat, but I swallowed it down. Despite my growing discomfort, I kept my gaze on the entrance of the mine. A shadow seemed to materialize from the darkness -- I was only sure that I actually saw it when he stepped into the light.
He wore the Ebony Mail, but wisps of black smoke rolled off of it before fading into nothing. Like the armor itself wasn’t solid, but condensed smoke that shifted and changed. It was as black as night, almost as if the armor was devouring the light itself. He looked like a demon.
My skin started to itch in the worst possible way underneath my armor. As if someone was digging a tiny needle into every pore and wiggling them around. Even still, I stood my ground and didn’t tear off my armor like it was cooking me alive.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. If you’re here to challenge me, then you would find a way to circumvent the poison my armor gives off. Otherwise, you would be dead,” The Ex-Champion of Boethiah remarked as I tried to give off the impression that I had found away around his poison aura. I had swallowed down an antidote, just in case it would do something, but I had been pinning my hopes on my Abnormal Resistance.
“I don’t have anything to say to the likes of you,” I said, just to put an end to any banter or justifications he might give. I could feel the stomach acid in my gut sloshing around and my skin felt like it was burning.
“No. I suppose you wouldn’t,” The Ex-Champion remarked, his voice distorted from behind a black helm. And that was the signal for the fight to begin. I darted forward, my sword moving in a blazing blur while the Ex-champion ducked low, his own ebony sword dipping towards the back of my knee.
My blade sailed overhead and I felt a sharp sting on the back of my knee, and I knew something was wrong. I was moving too slow. My head felt like it was full of cotton and my mouth kept switching from being flooded with saliva to being dry as a desert. I pivoted, catching his blade as it went to my shoulder before I lashed out with a fist, intent on driving him away.
“Ah. You didn’t manage to completely nullify it, I see. Still, you must be as strong as an ox to stay on your feet. I commend you for that,” The Ex-champion remarked, sounding like he meant it. I blinked once as I took in a shallow breath, my vision growing fuzzy. The mist seemed to grow thicker even in the sunlight, and it was like I was fighting a cloud of mist.
The mist moved, its blade darting forward at speeds I could follow but my body struggled to keep up with. I batted the blade to the side, going in for a strike. My blade sailed past its defenses, scraping against its armor, but unlike others, it didn’t cut through like it wasn’t there. It couldn’t. They were both made of the same metal.
But the strike encouraged me. I swung again, aiming for its head, and the mist dodged out of the way while countering, trying to go for my knee. My sword was made of ebony, but the rest of my armor sure wasn’t. I jerked it out of the way, the previous sense of invulnerability gone like smoke in the wind.
It followed it up with an upwards slash that I barely blocked, my vision felt like it was narrowing and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. My body felt like it was boiling in my armor. Even still, I dodged the attack, stumbling back and nearly falling over. It seized the opportunity and lunged for my chest, intent on punching through my armor like I did to so many others before. I blocked the blow with a wild swing that left me open to a counter across my leg.
I felt a sharp pain drag across my thigh, the steel armor absolutely no match for ebony. But just as I left myself open for a counter, so did it. I lashed out with a fist, catching the mist in the face. It was impossible to judge my strength, but it hit the dirt with a thump, its helmet flying away to reveal dark skin that made the dark red hair stand out that much more.
The mist was a person. I had almost forgotten that.
My head pounded as I strode forward, pain flaring in my leg. I couldn’t feel it, not really. It was filled with pins and needles, like it was asleep where it wasn’t completely numb. The Ex-Champion rolled to his feet, his blood-red eyes staring into mine. I saw there was a slight smirk on his face. I wanted to ask what he was smirking about, but my tongue wouldn’t move and I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I didn’t bother.
Instead, I simply strode forward, blocking a swipe at my injured leg, then an overhand. Each strike he made, he seemed to grow faster, but that wasn’t it. I was just getting weaker. I could feel it. My muscles ached, begging for a respite in a way I hadn’t felt since Hell Week with Ryuu, Tiona and Ais. So, I grit my teeth and pressed forward, forcing my arms to move faster to block his attacks and to deliver my own.
I raised my blade, aiming for his head, while his blade went low. He opened his mouth to say something, but I never heard what it was. An arrow punched through his mouth, coming to a stop about halfway. He stumbled a step, one hand going up to his mouth to touch the arrow in confusion before he looked up at me.
Aela. She was here.
And she was trying to steal my exp.
My sword lashed out with a wild swing that caught him just underneath the cheekbone and it cut right through. With his head cut in half, the Ex-Champion fell and the awful feeling that surrounded him faded with his death. I dropped to my knees, ripping off my helmet, and puked next to his body. I didn’t have much in me, but whatever I had came up in foul-tasting bile.
“I should have just thrown rocks at him,” I muttered mournfully, feeling better with every second. I heard Aela and Farkas rush towards me, shouting my name. I waved them off as they neared, trying to show that I was okay, but the truth was I felt weak. The fight barely lasted two minutes, and it felt like it had been hours. My strength was sapped.
“I’m fine,” I said, looking at them as I looked down to inspect the damage to my armor. There were burn marks on the armor and my leg. Some kind of enchantment? Despite my reassurance, Aela rushed to my side.
“Are you certain? You fought like you were drunk,” She noted, and I guess that was fair enough.
“His armor had a poison aura around it or something. The longer I was around it, the stronger it became. I guess I should count myself lucky about that though. He wasn’t a much better fighter than me because of it,” I said, giving her a slight smile to show that I really was okay. Aela looked like she had her doubts, but when I stood up on my own strength, she seemed reassured.
Farkas picked up the Ex-Champions sword. “Lightning enchantment. A powerful one,” he observed, giving it a few test swings.
“It’s yours. I already have a sword,” I decided as I turned my attention to the Ex-Champion’s body. His armor looked like normal ebony now -- black as pitch with silverish swirls embedded into the metal. But it was undoubtedly a Daedric artifact. So it was a question of what would happen if I tried to break it down for my armor? Should I just Inventory it? Or maybe just bury it?
With my left hand, I reached out to at least start taking off the armor to decide what I should do with it. The moment my hand touched it, the armor… recoiled. It reduced itself into a heavy black mist, the ebony mail melting away from the corpse until it became that black fog before it surged forward. I flinched back as the black fog covered my arm, the arm that bore the Hestia Armor.
As I fell onto my ass, I felt the armor being stripped from my arm, leaving it bare. It fell to the ground with a heavy thump, the black mist of the Ebony Mail covering it as if it were a wild animal attacking prey. I sat there, watching it with wide eyes, unsure of what I should do. Or what I could do. My breath was caught in my throat, worried that I had just lost the Hestia Armor.
But that fear was unfounded. The black mist of the Ebony Mail seemed to sink into the Hestia Armor. Once every trace of it was gone, absorbed into the armor, the falna inscribed onto the surface of the Hestia Armor glowed a bright blue for a moment. Then it faded.
“That happened,” Farkas observed as I slowly stood up, eying the armor much like a coiled snake. That had happened. It was just a question of what just happened.
Cautiously I reached out towards the Hestia Armor. My fingers brushed over the cool black surface before they sank into the metal. The Hestia Armor became a black mist, much like the Ebony Mail, and my heart jumped to my throat when it surged over my hand, up my arm, then over my chest. In a split second, my entire body was enveloped by the black mist.
The mist obscured my vision for a split second, enough time for me to assume the worst, but it cleared up almost instantly. Confusingly, I felt a familiar weight of a helmet on my head an neck, but my vision was unobscured -- as if i wasn’t wearing one at all. Looking down at my hands, I saw that instead of one black arm and another bronze, both of them were black. Wisps of black smoke emerged from them, fading from view before they could move more than an inch away.
The same went for the rest of me. My torso was covered in black, the kind of black that could only belong to ebony and so were my legs and feet.
A wide smile graced my face as I marveled at my armor, my ebony armor.
Hestia really was the best.
Comments
Neruz
Boethiah is going to be pissed about losing a fragment of their power, but fuck Boethiah, they're an asshole and one of the Daedric Princes that is always going to be an enemy no matter what. Hell, Boethiah is an enemy even to their own followers, comes with being the Prince of Treachery.
Razorfloss razor
Well boethia isn't going to be pleased by this. Although I'm now positive that boethia can track jerchio
IG884HIRE
Boethia may not like having their armor devoured by a foreign Aedric artifact, but they're pretty much a horrible person, so screw them. I'm quite liking creepy Babette. I hope we get more of her.
