20demayo Chapter 257: Chapter LXXVIII: Professional Help
Chapter 257: Chapter LXXVIII: Professional Help
Chapter 257: Chapter LXXVIII: Professional Help
A dark skinned man dressed in expensive clothes collapses next to me, his pants thoroughly soiled, and the guards utterly disinterested in aiding him, as I walk down the familiar streets of one of my favorite cities in the province.
"And what exactly are we doing all the way in Whiterun?" Serana asks dubiously.
I turn to her with a conspiratorial grin "Why grabbing a couple hunting dogs of course."
It takes her only a short moment to catch the true meaning of my words and she fails to keep the immediate scoff of disdain from leaving her "Werewolves... How great."
"They may be furries but they are also pretty useful in a fight." I shrug easily.
A silent moment of walking later I nearly stumble as I hear her ask "Reyvin, what is a furry?"
'Gods damn me and my big mouth.' Ignoring her question for both her sake and my own I keep walking toward the funny upturned boathouse that the Companions called their home.
I was not originally planning on involving the mercenary order in my expedition but seeing as the larger part of my people traveling all the way from Solitude would still take some time to reach the destination Dexion pointed out I could take the time to get some professional help.
The rest of my people and the unit of Dawnguards were already waiting there, courtesy of Scorch simply carrying a slab pre-carved with my mark and recall sigil. While I could use 'blind' teleportation at this point, doing so over long distances and while taking others with me was... less than advisable, so I still stuck with the old tried and tested method. Less limbs lost that way.
I suppress the shiver that threatens to go down my spine at that particular memory and push open the beautifully carved double door in front of me, the rambunctious air of the place slamming into me like an avalanche.
That and the smell of spilled mead of course.
Much like the previous times I've visited, the whole place goes completely quiet and all eyes snap to me, a couple of chairs already getting pushed back and scraping loudly against the floor as my friend gets up the greet me.
"Reyvin!" The massive form of Durrak covers much of my vision as the jovial Orsimer practically blurs in front of me "Finally got some time to visit, eh?" He doesn't bother waiting for my reply and envelops me in a bone-crushing hug.
I tap his back a couple of times and he backs off with a knowing grin on his face "It is good to see you too Durrak." I smile and before he can react he finds himself on his ass, his movement giving me the perfect opportunity to push him without even moving my hands.
Many of the companions laughed uproariously at the display, our friendship was a well known fact to them and it could be said I was a friend of the order for my previous deeds, not to mention my usual reputation. How quickly people forgot their hatreds and prejudices when it suited them...
"I am guessing you aren't here just for a drink?" My deceptively observant friend asks as he gets up in one fluid movement.
"Indeed." I nod with a smile "I am here with a business proposition, one that you will no doubt wish to hear about."
As all of the other companions quiet down even further as they attempt to listen to our conversation, Durrak's lips twist into a cruel grin "Come with me." He turns without waiting and heads toward the basement, the groans of his fellows following him all the way.
"So, Durrak. Care to tell me how the Companions are doing? Still hunting the Silver Hand?" I ask as we descend into the ancient halls of Jorrvaskr.
Durrak's mood sours immediately "They are annoying bastards to hunt down. I got a couple of their bases using your people but they rarely seem to have the time to help these days."
I shrug, a lightly apologetic expression on my face "I do have a war to win, my friend." "Yeah, yeah." He waves me off "I understand, it just frustrates me how they hide like rats and still pretend to be righteous."
"Aren't they though?" I ask, much to his confusion and surprise "Do they not preach that the ancient order of Ysgramor's Companions was overtaken by Daedra worship and monstrous beasts?"
Knowing that I wasn't actually siding with his enemies Durrak simply groans "Why must you complicate things like this every time? We are the good guys, they are the bad guys, it should be that simple."
Hours later, our scouts returned with Dexion, whose eyes were now free of any light. They told us of a sealed passage in the mountain cracking open as the priest approached, the ominous entrance of which led into a vast cave system.
I tried healing the old man without hesitation, even as he assured me that it was no big loss to him, and found that his sight was almost but not quite conceptually removed, I felt as if it was possible to give it back to him but I was nowhere near capable enough with healing to do so. Good thing I wasn't dumb enough to read the scrolls myself then.
As they finished their report I declared that we would wait for everyone to arrive before
descending into the caves. It did not take long for those that liked to partake in drink to indulge themselves for what could very well be the last time in weeks or months, I ran a rather tight ship and drinking when a fight could start at any time was a big no no.
A full day of waiting and relaxation later I felt space next to me distort and one silent pop later for Shalazar, in all his magnificent glory, to appear beside me with an excited glint in his eyes "Greetings mortals!" He squeaks at the bewildered lesser beings gazing at his radiance. Before anyone from the ranks of our more excitable allies can even think of pointing a weapon at him I raise a hand "Everyone who isn't already aware, allow me to introduce Master Shalazar from the college."
As my words reach them they all visibly relax, save for Serana who still remembered the
absolute terror of daring to question the greater being in whose presence she was permitted
to exist.
"The rest are close?" I ask my fellow archmage as the rest return to doing their own thing. "Indeed." He squeaks "In fact they are about to crest that hill in tree, two, one..." And as if he orchestrated the whole thing, which he did, my people emerge on the horizon.
A hundred halberdiers marched in mostly perfect lock step, their blackened steel armor still in pristine condition and their blank masks still unmarked by battle, or at least that went for the
new recruits.
The veterans among their number had their armors carved with runes, and their masks
twisted into the visage of Dunmeri saints, a number of them adding plumes of differing configurations to their morion helmets, and almost all of them hanging a short triangular banner from the tip of their weapons.
Behind them marched the hundred or so of my braver non combatant subjects, all of them surrounded by automatons made of the same material that shielded my warriors, many of said constructs shaped into the form of a cart and walking with no outside aid or direction.
Yet what drew most eyes was the small group of Falmer, their gold and white robes contrasting harshly with their mostly darkly dressed Dunmeri counterparts. Each of the Falmer magi was armed and armored with silvered moonstone, the material barely weighing any more than their robes, the pride of their dead race evident to all.
And to top it all off a distant roar reached my ears as Krein announced his presence to his
master.
House Dagoth marched to war, and woe betide the pathetic fucker that dared provoke our
wrath.
A stone for our brave warriors!
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