Private Undying Legacy

[Delusional]

A long silence followed the sudden departure of Kash until Alain spoke up.

"Hmm. Mzinchaleft is somewhere south of Dawnstar, right?"

"Yes, Mzinchaleft is southwest of Dawnstar. Our route will take us directly north, through Fort Dunstad, then west, straight to Mzinchaleft," Marcus replied. "If we require it, we can stop at Dawnstar, but I do not intend on passing through or stopping in Dawnstar."


"Marc, you remember that Nord warrior woman, Mjoll, I think? Wasn't that the ruin she always talked about losing her sword in?" Alain asked. The memories that came rushing back to Marcus at the mention of Mjoll and Riften brought a reminiscing smile to his face.

"Yes, I do remember Mjoll. And I do remember her mentioning Mzinchaleft as the ruin she lost her sword in. Huh, I hadn't thought of that before." He was always fond of Mjoll and thoroughly enjoyed the stories she told of her past travels before she settled down in Riften. "Perhaps we might run across her sword. If we do, I suppose we can stop by Riften and return it to her. There are some ruins we may end up visiting down there in the south anyways."

The mention of Mjoll left Marcus deep in thought about his carefree life back in Riften.

"Alain, remember when you and Asgeir got in that fight and smashed Madesi's stall to bits?" Marcus grinned. "There was jewelry everywhere, and Madesi was furious. You almost got thrown in jail for that, right?"

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Even ever-travelling Alain had to think fondly of home as Marcus reminisced on Riften. Well, maybe the city in the Rift wasn't quite the ideal home, especially for a boy who grew up an orphan among the Thieves Guild, but it had its charms. "Alain, remember when you and Asgeir got in that fight and smashed Madesi's stall to bits?" Alain grinned back at Marcus.

"How could I forget? Priesess Dinya had to fix my nose after he broke it, and then keep Madesi from breaking it again!" Alain laughed as he remembered the calamity that day had been.

"There was jewelry everywhere, and Madesi was furious. You almost got thrown in jail for that, right?"

"I did, actually, for a couple days. Maven didn't take kindly to my brawling with her business associate; It's just lucky that I'm..." Alain chose his words carefully - he wasn't yet comfortable 'coming out' as a thief. "In her good graces. Otherwise I may have rotted in there for who knows how long." He looked around at the others, the looks of none too telling on whether they knew who he was based on his armor, let alone what they thought of him. "Uh... Anyone else been around Riften way before?"

 

[Skyrimosity]

Edwyn wasn't paying much attention to the conversation, but in the silence of their journey it was kind of hard to not to hear. Not like there was much more to listen too, unless you count the clanking of armor every step.

"Uh... Anyone else been around Riften way before?"

Alain, who was obviously a long-time friend of Marcus, had asked the question. Edwyn hadn't payed much attention to the man before he had asked that. His armor was interesting though Edwyn couldn't quite figure out why. It probably didn't matter anyway.

"Yea" Edwyn spoke up. "Stopped by the city every now and then. Always kept my coin close at hand. All those thieves running about, can't be too careful. Over my years I've really gotten sick of thieves. Taking what others earned for themselves. Stealing from businesses to make a bit of gold. No respect for working to get what you want. Been all over Skyrim trying to make my living and those thieves decide they can just steal a living from others."

Edwyn paused for a moment. He didn't want to come off as an inherently angry or mad individual so he decided to change topic a bit.

"But I mainly stopped there after earning a good bit of gold. That Black-Briar mead always tastes good, but it tastes even better after a few months of doing odd-jobs. Helps..." Edwyn trailed off. He was going to say it helps with the pain but he didn't want them to know about that.

Edwyn reminisced a bit about his time in Riften. The nights at the Inn where he'd enjoy himself. The time he got into a fistfight with a drunken argonian who thought Edwyn was a thief who had stolen his coin. And then they laughed it off and drank together when the coin purse was found underneath the table.

"Its a nice enough town."

 

[Melee]

So Mzinchaleft will be our first stop. It's probably wise to start out with a larger, more well-known ruin. Bandits have already picked it apart looking for what they want, and they hardly ever go very far into those winding tunnels, given how ridden with traps and nasty surprises they are. Fen reached into her bag and pulled out a worn leather-bound journal, flipping through the pages while she listened absentmindedly to the beginnings of the conversation around her. They were discussing Riften, a place that Fen had not stepped foot in for many years, and certainly not a place where she had stayed for more than a few days. As beautiful as the surrounding area was, Riften was just like other cities throughout Skyrim, and the merchants and civilians tried on every opportunity to take advantage of the fact that Fen was young, and an outsider. They did everything from demanding a toll to enter the city to going out of their way to warn her to stay out of the business of the Black-Briars, whoever they were. While not everyone had treated her poorly (there was a pleasant man she had talked to near the market stalls for a few days, but he kept insisting she help him pin something on someone named Madesi), Fen had only stayed for a short time and took the first cart she could to Markarth and had been there ever since.

She finally came upon the pages she had been looking for, her field notes on what she had found on previous journeys through ruins. There wasn't much on Mzinchaleft since Calcelmo had always insisted for some reason that she only tag along on trips to smaller ruins, but from her rare visits there she had tried to amass as much information as possible. It was a fairly large ruin, and to those who ventured far enough, housed an enormous cavern most called "the Depths". There were notes scribbled in about numerous Falmer and Chaurus, which Fen did not anticipate being too much of a problem. The group seemed capable enough to handle whatever creatures they met below.

What did grab her attention was the large red drawn at the bottom of the page, at the end of a crudely drawn map showing the basic layout of the area. Written in the margins was the word "CENTURION", meaning that beyond the last passage in the Depths was the most dangerous known automaton that the Dwemer had constructed to protect their homes. Countless research teams had lost their lives by accidentally stumbling upon one of these monstrosities during expeditions. Will our group be able to take down something of this size if we come across it? Including myself there are six people. I'm not sure if it's enough.

Fen began moving to the front of the group as others were starting to talk about where they had previously been, Edwyn saying something about Riften being a nice enough town. She reached Marcus, and noticed he was smiling as he reminisced and listened to everyone else talking about their experiences. "So you can smile after all! I was afraid we wouldn't see it." She said this playfully, smiling widely before looking down at her journal and growing serious. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but Mzinchaleft contains a Centurion in its depths. We need to exercise extreme caution in order to avoid disturbing it. Even though I'm sure everyone in this group has impressive combat skill, I don't know if it would be enough to bring down a Centurion without some serious injuries. I just wanted to make you aware."

Fen focused her bright green eyes on him, looking up very seriously before flipping her journal shut and exhaling deeply, looking much calmer after doing so. She whirled around so that she was walking backwards and facing the rest of the group behind her, casually hitching her thumbs in her belt while taking larger steps to avoid tripping. "So, have any of you had the pleasure of exploring a Dwemer ruin before?"

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Alain couldn't tell if this Edwyn was incredibly oblivious or would turn out to be a less than amiable travelling companion as he listened to the Breton's rant. "Stopped by the city every now and then. Always kept my coin close at hand. All those thieves running about, can't be too careful. Over my years I've really gotten sick of thieves. Taking what others earned for themselves. Stealing from businesses to make a bit of gold. No respect for working to get what you want. Been all over Skyrim trying to make my living and those thieves decide they can just steal a living from others." The Imperial bit his lip as the scathing rant ran its course, and Edwyn moved on from the topic of thieves. "But I mainly stopped there after earning a good bit of gold. That Black-Briar mead always tastes good, but it tastes even better after a few months of doing odd-jobs. Helps..." The Breton stopped himself, drawing inward as he evidently reached some topic that he preferred to keep quiet.

This will be an interesting trip.

As the rest of the group continued becoming acquainted, Alain noticed Fenditura walking up closer to Marcus. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but Mzinchaleft contains a Centurion in its depths. We need to exercise extreme caution in order to avoid disturbing it. Even though I'm sure everyone in this group has impressive combat skill, I don't know if it would be enough to bring down a Centurion without some serious injuries. I just wanted to make you aware." While this was slightly worrying to Alain, being the light fighter that he was, at the same time he thought it would be quite something to duck and dodge a gigantic Dwemer construct. Besides, Marcus had the qualities of a good leader, and Alain didn't pay too much mind to the concerns the group's Dwemer nut brought up.

"So, have any of you had the pleasure of exploring a Dwemer ruin before?" Fen asked a moment later, conversation with Marcus concluded.

"I've been to one or two smaller ones," Alain replied. "As well as a few of the above-ground landmarks they left behind. I've never been much of a scholar, but they certainly are interesting places."

 

[Skyrimosity]

"So, have any of you had the pleasure of exploring a Dwemer ruin before?" The Bosmer woman named Fen asked the group. Marcus's friend Alain was the first to answer, saying he had been in a few smaller ones and occasionally in the above-ground ruins.

"I've been in a few, but never very deep. Always within the area that the Bandits had cleared out already. A few good items to sell, help keep my coin bag from feeling light as air."

Edwyn was scratching his head a bit at his current company. Here he was, not a very talkative person, but he kept answering these questions while these other people just stood around saying nothing, walking as if emotionless beasts. Like Draugr. Maybe they would start talking eventually but they weren't making any sort of case they were trustworthy. Except Anja, but even she was quiet now when she had been so talkative earlier.

Edwyn definitely hoped someone had more experience than him in these Dwemer ruins. Sure, they all seemed competent enough fighters and such, but Fen's experiences in Dwemer ruins might not be enough to compensate for the entire group if no one else had much experience.

 

[Irish]

Anja watched in disappointment as Kash and the male Dunmer Companion made their way back towards Whiterun. "Kash leaving is rather annoying. So much for gaining a bit of insight before joining the Companions," she thought bitterly. Realizing there was a buzz of conversation among a few of the others, she shook her head and focused her attention on the group.

"So, have any of you had the pleasure of exploring a Dwemer ruin before?"

"I've been in a few, but never very deep. Always within the area that the Bandits had cleared out already. A few good items to sell, help keep my coin bag from feeling light as air." Anja saw Edwyn mentally assess the group and wondered what he was thinking. She gave him a nod and chewed on her lip in thought.

Anja had never been inside of a Dwemer ruin and felt slightly embarrassed about it. She'd seen their exteriors on her many travels from Solitude to various cities and towns, but never had a chance to delve into them. "I'm afraid I've never had such a pleasure, Fen. Not that it hasn't crossed my mind a time or two, but the opportunity never presented itself. Until now, anyway," she said, shrugging. Feeling rather self-conscious, she added, "However, I have a...knack for adapting to my surroundings as a means of survival. I've been doing so my whole life, I suppose, so had no choice but to gain such a skill. I'm ready for whatever comes across our path."

Whether she was truly ready remained to be seen, but she didn't want to come across as selling herself short on her strengths nor want to instill any doubt. After all, she felt partially responsible for the well-being of the group and would do her best to make sure all who went into the Dwemer ruins came back out...alive. She wondered if the others felt the same. As Anja once again studied each person, she began to contemplate about which of them she could trust, aside from Edwyn.

"So, Ardin, what about you?"

 

[Wolfbane]

Fen gave a friendly nod and smile towards Ardin, making him do the same. The group seemed ready and able. There was Fen,a friendly enough wood elf with a knack for everything Dwemer; Edwyn,a Breton who makes ends meet with odd jobs; Anja, a very friendly companion hopeful; Alain, an obvious quick and light fighter that comes across as clever; and their leader, Marcus.

"Uh... Anyone else been around Riften way before?"
"A couple of times. It always ends up in me with a broken nose." realizing he hasn't said more than a couple words, he tried to lighten the mood. The conversation eventually shifted into talks of a dwemer ruin, by the name of Mzinchaleft.

"I'm not sure if you're aware, but Mzinchaleft contains a Centurion in its depths. We need to exercise extreme caution in order to avoid disturbing it. Even though I'm sure everyone in this group has impressive combat skill, I don't know if it would be enough to bring down a Centurion without some serious injuries. I just wanted to make you aware." Fen pointed out the crucial bit of information, then walked backwards as she asked the others about their experience with ruins.

As the others answered, one word kept running through his head; Centurion. The most fearsome thing he was seen and fought. His whole group mixed with hired on sellswords was almost killed by one. Only his group made it out. The automatons and falmer were easy enough, but it was the traps that got some of them. Passing most of the traps and finally making it through the thickest parts. The bronze, steaming behemoth was released like a beast on an intruder. There mission was to only clear the ruin for an expedition team. None of them were prepared, and the losses were heavy.

"So, Ardin, what about you?"
"Centurion..." He was brought back to the present, with some looking at his comment with confusion.
"I've been far enough in one to have been face to face with a centurion.The hirelings were all wiped out during that contract. My experience with ruins and the automatons are well enough." He turned to Anja, then Fen to confirm what he had just said, and waited for the comments.

 

[Delusional]

The group was amidst some decent conversation spurred by Marcus and Alain's reminiscing when the Bosmer, Fen, looked up from some notes she had been studying to interject.

"I'm not sure if you're aware, but Mzinchaleft contains a Centurion in its depths. We need to exercise extreme caution in order to avoid disturbing it. Even though I'm sure everyone in this group has impressive combat skill, I don't know if it would be enough to bring down a Centurion without some serious injuries. I just wanted to make you aware," she said to Marcus as she looked up to him with a serious expression.

"Yes, I am aware of the Centurion. I did some minor research regarding our destinations prior to recruiting you all, and through that research I found that almost every one of our destinations holds a Centurion within it," Marcus replied, running a hand through his greasy hair and exhaling deeply.

"It will be dangerous. I wasn't joking. But thankfully, I have friends in useful places, and I've obtained some items that will drastically increase not only our chance of survival, but also our effectiveness against Dwemer constructs such as the Centurion." The Imperial patted his side as if to indicate that was where these supposed items were located on his person. In truth, he wasn't sure if the items his friends gave him would indeed work, but it would at least boost morale.

"Anyways, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Marcus sighed as he realized how tired he was for not the first time in the past 24 hours. Unfortunately, there would be little time to catch up on said lost sleep--they were heading into dangerous territory, and would have to be aware of their surroundings at all times and prepared for hostile attack. Chuckling, Marcus turned to face the group.

"I sure hope you guys are rested up, because we won't have the luxury of beauty sleep for quite some time," he said with a playful smirk.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

As the group made its way along the road north of Whiterun, the sky turned a cloudy gray. Alain wondered if it might rain, but as they moved along, his concerns faded; and when the group began to head up a hill toward a farmhouse, they were interrupted by a peculiar sight. A jester, pacing about and raving to himself. "Agh! Bother and befuddle! Stuck here! Stuck! My mother, my poor mother. Unmoving. At rest, but too still!"

"You seem to be having some trouble... friend," Alain said, not too sure how open to be with this strange man.

"Oh, how astute of you! Poor Cicero is stuck. Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse! She's quite dead. I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But... aggh! Wagon wheel! Damnedest wagon wheel! It broke! Don't you see?"

Alain pursed his lips, not sure how to respond to the frantic man. "Ah, Marc?" he said quietly. "Should we help him or something?"

 

[Delusional]

"Ah, Marc? Should we help him or something?" Alain leaned over and whispered to Marcus as they both looked at the stranded jester skeptically. Marcus furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin in thought, evaluating the random roadside stranger.

"Hmm... I suppose we should help..." Marcus pondered, sizing up the strange jester. "Yeah, it wouldn't hurt to quickly help this poor soul. Let's get on with it," he said to the rest of the group. The Imperial stepped forward and approached the bewildered jester.

"Alright, what was it, Cicero? Alright Cicero, we can help you. What would you like us to do?"

"Oh. Oh yes! Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help! Go to the farm - the Loreius Farm. Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He can help me! But he won't! He refuses! Convince Loreius to fix my wheel! Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin!"

Marcus gazed up the hill to the farm Cicero directed them towards. Nestled among several rock outcroppings, the farm consisted of a small ranch and a dilapidated windmill, surrounded by fields of cabbage, leeks, potatoes and wheat.

"Alright. Let's go talk to this Loreius fellow," Marcus said, gesturing for the group to follow him as he started up the hill towards the lone farm.

 

[Skyrimosity]

Edwyn heard the talk of a Dwemer Centurion. In truth, he had heard little of the Dwemer creation so he had little to say. He was content being quiet, walking along with the group and absorbing what they were saying. That's when something... rather interesting happened.

The group had been walking on a road when they came across a strange man, in distress over his broken down carriage. He was pacing around, yelling to no one in particular. "Oh. Oh yes! Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help! Go to the farm - the Loreius Farm. Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He can help me! But he won't! He refuses! Convince Loreius to fix my wheel! Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin!"

Ummm... this seems a bit suspicious. I mean, this man dressed up as a jester has a coffin on the back of his carriage? It'd probably be better if we didn't help him. Should just keep walking. But we won't. Already involved now.



"Alright. Let's go talk to this Loreius fellow,"

"Ummm, Marcus?", Edwyn said as they started walking up the hill, "are you sure its a smart thing to help this guy out? I mean, he's dressed up as a jester, seems kinda crazy, and we don't really know what's in his carriage."

 

[Irish]

Anja silently listened as Marcus exchanged words with the belligerent, superfluous jester named Cicero. The way he spoke and moved about was enough to cause alarm in her, nevermind the coffin. She'd met plenty of eccentric people in her days, whether it had been at soiree or in Elisif the Fair's courtroom, but the Imperial fool standing before them was by far the oddest of them all. Anja began to look around, notably at the coffin supposedly containing the dead corpse of Cicero's mother. She quickly bit her top lip to keep herself composed and thought, "I have a bad feeling about this whole situation, but father always said that if one helps a stranger in need, they're more likely to be blessed by the Divines. I guess it wouldn't hurt, but the sooner we help and be on our way, the better!"

Her thoughts were interrupted by Marcus' voice. "Alright. Let's go talk to this Loreius fellow," he said matter-of-factly. The group looked around at one another displaying different levels of unease at the predicament. As they made their way up the hill, Anja looked back at the stranded jester. Suddenly, she felt herself fill with dread and had a premonition that regardless of whether they helped or not, doom would befall someone.

"Umm, Marcus. Are you sure it's a smart thing to help this guy out," she heard Edwyn ask. "I mean, he's dressed up as a jester, seems kinda crazy, and we don't really know what's in his carriage."

"Edwyn, the sooner we help that fool out so he can be on his way, the better for all of us," she snapped impatiently. "I have a bad feeling about this whole mess, as well, but it's only a matter of time before something...terrible happens to those farmers. I couldn't live with that on my conscious."

They came upon a modest house with a modest farm, where a woman was leaning on the porch's bannister while her husband tended to the crops. If not for the somewhat dire situation at hand, Anja would've felt a degree of envy for the couple and their simple life.

"Oh, for the love of Mara. What now," Loreius asked as crossed his arms, clearly annoyed at the interruption caused by the group of strangers.

"The, um, little man really needs your help. With his wagon?"

"That Cicero feller? Hmph, tell me something I don't know. Crazy fool's already asked me about five times. Seems he's not satisfied with my answer. Why can't he just leave us alone?"

"So what's the problem? I'm sure he'll pay you..." Anja said, hoping that this would convince the farmer to help. Surely, everyone appreciated a bit of extra coin, right?

Loreius laughed incredulously. "Have you seen the man? He's completely out of his head. A jester? Here, in Skyrim? Ain't been a merryman in these parts for a hundred years. And he's transporting some giant box. Says it's a coffin, and he's going to bury his mother. Mother, my eye," he exclaimed, beginning to show his skepticism. "He could have anything in there. War contraband. Weapons. Skooma. Ain't no way I'm getting involved in any of that."

At a loss for words and feeling rather defeated, Anja turned towards the others and shrugged. She found she no longer cared as to what happened - she just wanted to get back on the road. After motioning for the others to try their luck, she smiled apologetically at Edwyn, then once again took a look at the stranded madman. "Yep. Still creepy as ever."

 

[Melee]

The group continued traveling down the road winding away from Whiterun in what Fen deemed a comfortable silence. Now that they had gotten the chance to talk to each other for a while (even if it was just to discuss the expedition they were embarking on), everyone seemed a bit more at ease, and the stiff atmosphere that had existed earlier when they had first met was dissipating.

Marcus had responded to her concerns about the Dwemer Centurion with confidence and assurance, stating that he had done a bit of research ahead of time and was even in possession of items that would increase their chances of survival against the automatons that roamed the ruins. This settled the worry gathering in Fen's mind considerably, although naturally some fear still existed, sneaking around the shadows of her mind and surfacing when she had thought it had vanished. After all, nobody goes into Dwemer ruins with the express intent of finding and battling a Centurion. No matter how prepared or confident the group was, giant metal automatons that could crush you in a single blow were still terrifying.

Fen was suddenly jerked away from her thoughts when she heard a man with a wheedling voice proclaim his woe over a broken wagon wheel to the group. A jester, speaking in third person, identified himself as Cicero as he relayed to the group how he was transporting his mother's coffin when the wheel on his wagon had broken, and could not convince the farmer up the hill to help him. Cicero was jumping around the wagon seemingly in dramatic bouts of despair, but to Fen the man just looked sadly comical. There was something about his demeanor that made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

It was obvious that she wasn't the only one who felt this way. While Marcus and Alain beckoned the group toward the Loreius farm to ask for tools, Edwyn expressed his concerns over helping a man who they didn't know and appeared "kinda crazy". While Fen agreed with the Breton, she couldn't help but feel guilty about just leaving the man here without any help. They weren't exactly in a well traveled location, and without any help from the farmer, it could be a long time until someone else stumbled upon the distressed jester. Groaning quietly, Fen listened as Anja berated Edwyn and told him that the sooner they helped him, the sooner they could leave. Sighing in agreement, Fen followed the rest of the group up toward the farm. It was clear by Anja's reaction that the jester made her uncomfortable as well. At least I'm not the only one. That makes me feel better.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the problem of the stranded jester transporting his dead mother (Fen shivered involuntarily) would not be solved so simply. No matter what Anja said, the farmer simply refused to help the man, even if though it meant he would be able to leave the land in front of his house. Turning back to the unsettling man, Fen frowned and ran her fingers through her hair in concentration. "Well," she mused. "How exactly is his wheel broken? Maybe there's a way to repair it without any serious tools?" While she seriously doubted they would be able to do anything productive without the farmer's tools, Fen couldn't leave the man stranded there in good conscience. Looking around the group, she shrugged stiffly and headed back down the hill. "Let's see if there's anything we can do."

The sooner we can get away from this man the better.

 

[Wolfbane]

If the trip couldn't get any stranger, a man dressed as a jester popped up seemingly out of nowhere, making the group all uneasy and split on what to do. Edwyn wanted to leave the crazed, and really creepy jester, Anja eventually stopped caring, Alain wanted to help just as Marcus did, Fen wanted to help as well, and Ardin was annoyed and creeped out.

"This jester is seriously grinding my nerves, and is creepy as hells. Any man who tows his poor dead mother on a carriage, and talks in that tone of voice with stupid riddles should be avoided. As for fixing the wheel, I'm not sure if you can. You could make a wheel out of spare wood, maybe, but not with what he has. At least not on a first look. Maybe twine up spare pieces of wood with the remaining shaft? I'm not sure. The only I thing I am sure of, is that man is mad and really unsettling. If he charges shouting words of daedra, I'm striking him with my pommel, if he's lucky."

When he was a child, jesters gave him a unsettling feeling, and he never knew why, and still doesn't. Luckily there weren't many of them residing in his homeland. Either way, he wanted to get back on the road and towards their goal.

 

[Delusional]

Disregarding the overwhelmingly negative responses from his companions regarding the jester Cicero's ordeal, Marcus returned to the stranded wagon. Loreius' reaction was completely unsurprising, and Marcus was prepared from the start to find some way to help this strange little man himself, without the assistance of tools they did not have.

"Poor mother... she's been waiting here so long... Stupid farmer and his stupid tools! Why won't he help us?" Cicero was muttering under his breath, pacing back and forth along the perimeter of his disabled wagon when the group returned.

"Um, listen, Cicero... Loreius told us he wasn't going to help, so instead, we're going to find a way to fix your wagon wheel ourselves and get you back on the road. Alright?" Marcus got to inspecting the broken wheel as Cicero celebrated, ecstatic.

"Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My mother thanks you! Here, here. For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for a kind deed! And thank you! Thank you again." The jester handed Marcus a sizable coin pouch filled with golden septims. Marcus smiled and nodded slightly, tucking the coin pouch away in his cuirass to deal with later.

"Hey, can someone help? Maybe roll that wagon wheel over here?" Marcus asked the rest of the group as he knelt down to examine the axle, which after a short inspection, appeared to be in fine and working condition. Clearly the wagon's issue must lie in the wheel, which relieved Marcus. A broken wheel is much easier to fix than a broken axle.

Marcus had just begun examining the shattered wheel when he heard a distant call.

"Hey! You there! All you there! Stop!" Marcus looked up to see a group of apprehensive guards in pale armor approaching. The Imperial stood and backed away from the wagon, turning to the rest of the group with a puzzled expression.

"Stop!" the guards continued to yell. "What do you think you're doing?"

Marcus then realized. He looked back up the hill to the farm, where he saw Loreius standing on the front porch, observing the scene. Shaking his head, the Imperial turned his back to the guards, blurting out only a single word before breaking out into a sprint--

"Run!"

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

When the guards yelled after the group, Alain's instincts kicked in and he took off sprinting, Marcus and the others keeping up behind, but only just - he couldn't blame them for falling a little behind a man whose job description involved running from guards. The group tore across the road, heading up the hill on the left side, past the farm, and heading into the woods. Alain looked back to see in the distance that the guards were losing ground.

"They're falling behind! Keep moving!" He called back as his strides began to sporadically bring forth the crunch of snow. The adrenaline of the chase had made it move quickly, but the group was already crossing the meridian into the Pale. The snow was a bit deeper the further Alain went, but he was in the zone. With one last look back, he saw the group had slowed its pace, and the guards who had been on their tails were no more. Finally, he could slow down and wait, the Imperial thought; gradually he slowed his steps, jogging to a stop. Right in front of a giant camp.

 

[Melee]

The group had hardly begun inspecting the jester's cart when they heard shouts and angry voices coming from behind them. It seemed that Loreius wasn't taking too kindly to their attempts at helping Cicero to be on his way and off the farmer's property, so he had resorted to calling some of the local guards to talk them off. However, judging by the manner in which the guards were approaching them, as well as the threatening edge to their shouts, they intended to do more than simply scold the group and send them on their way.

It seemed that Marcus realized this as well; as the guards continued to advance, voices growing louder and noticeably angrier by the second, he looked up from his wheel inspection wearing a look of confusion and agitation. Realization dawned on his face, and he turned back to the group, quickly blurting "Run!" before breaking into a sprint.

The rest of the group soon followed suit, bounding quickly across the road and over the bumpy terrain past Loreius' farm. Fen didn't bother throwing even a single glance over her shoulder as her nimble legs carried her through the grass past jutting rocks and into the forest.

For some reason, the entire situation struck Fen as just a bit on the hilarious side. They had barely left Whiterun, and now this group of ragtag adventurers was racing to evade capture from the guards they had most likely passed on the way out. It all seemed strange and absurd and actually kind of fun, so much so that Fen couldn't contain herself anymore and let out a loud whoop, laughing gleefully. It felt oddly liberating.

After emerging from the other side of the forest, the group looked back and decided it was safe to resume a brisk but leisurely pace. Fen was breathing heavily, a large grin still plastered to her face as she looked around in an attempt to figure out exactly where they were. The forest was behind them, and the mountains loomed in the distance. Alain had pulled ahead of everyone during their escape and was waiting for them to catch up, his back to the mammoths roaming peacefully--

Mammoths?

Oh plops, Fen thought to herself. Her smile disappeared as her eyes rested upon the enormous bonfire which had been hidden behind what she had assumed was a boulder. "Alain.." she began to warn as the ground shook beneath them, softly at first, then with increasing strength as a giant lumbered out of his tent and came to stand right behind the Imperial, towering over him.

 

[Irish]

Sweaty from their sudden, impromptu run from the Hold Guards, Anja stopped and caught her breath. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so...so what? Scared? Exhilarated? She heard a loud whoop of laughter from Fen and after a moment, joined in. "I went from a prominent citizen of Solitude to a fugitive on the run with a rag-tag group of explorers set to delve into dangerous Dwemer ruins. If only my parents were alive to hear of this," she thought, rather amused. "I don't know who the bigger fool is today; Cicero, Lorieus, or me for getting myself into this situation." With that, she threw her head back, gave a hearty chuckle, then grinned at her companions before they began making their way towards Alain.

Anja spotted Edwyn and made her way over to him, falling into step. "I, uh, I'm sorry for losing my temper back there. I let my fears get the best of me. I hope you didn't take it personally, Edwyn." A small part of her felt awkward apologizing, but she was determined to keep in good regards with the whole group and especially with her friend. "I had a feeling - a premonition - that something bad was going to happen to Loreius if he didn't help that jester. Damned fool wouldn't listen to us and even called the guard. His fate is out of our hands now and at least I can sleep knowing that we tried."

Edwyn looked at Anja and shrugged. "I think we all felt uneasy back there, so don't be too hard on yourself. It happens to the best of us," he replied with a friendly smile. She felt relieved as she thought over his words. She'd spent most of her adult life being hard on herself, thanks in part to her ex-husband's demands that she look and act as elegant and polished as possible. As she looked around from person to person, she realized that, in the very short time she'd spent with them, she felt more comfortable with this group of acquaintances who'd nearly got arrested by the guards than she ever did in Elisif's court. She gave Edwyn a smile and thanked him graciously.

Her mind began to wander and she found herself thinking of the unread letter that accompanied the ebony dagger she received. She had no idea what Erikur had to gain from sending her such an expensive piece of weaponry. She resolved to read the letter the next time they stopped and told herself that whatever he said in that letter mattered not.

"Alain..."

Anja's train of thought came to an abrupt end as she focused her attention on what lay ahead. Terror struck as she saw a giant, flanked by two mammoths, waving his massive club as it stood directly behind the Imperial. The five of them shouted words of warning and running towards the Imperial, who, for a brief moment, seemed to stand paralyzed in fear as he looked up at the tall, menacing giant. As the giant lifted his mighty club and swung down smashing it into the ground, Anja feared the worst. She hadn't seen him move and with the huge cloud of dust and snow, couldn't make out what had beome of him. She readied her bow and just as she was going to let the arrow loose, saw Alain running out of the debris and towards the group. She leet out a heavy sigh, thanked Talos she didn't fire, and ran towards him.

"What the hell were you thinking," demanded Anja, with a mixture of annoyance, fear, and relief. As the giant and mammoths made their way towards them, they all looked at each other and readied their weapons. It was fight or flight time.