Elder Scroll series 1. A New Life

**Southeast of Mournhold, Morrowind **

In Morrowind there was a tiny village several miles from Mournhold called Tares. It was far from any major road or caravan line and too far from Mournhold to get any attention from foreigners or visitors of any kind. Any visitors they received were tolerated but since they never stayed for long, most of the inhabitants didn't even bother with them.

Like most small villages, everyone knew one another and stuck together in a close knit band. Everyone watched each others backs. There were very few secrets among them. Very few.

Except one. One dark secret that tainted the small village like a plague. For some unknown reason, not a single inhabitant of Tares did anything about it. It was as if some inner shame kept them from doing anything about it. The dark secret, the shame of Tares, was Modorin.

He had once been a widely acclaimed warrior, but some disgrace had shunned him to this small lonely village. He had brought his remaining wife and small son with him, but it was common knowledge that he considered the boy to be too small to be worth anything and largely ignored him. Modorin never forgot the fame and comfort he had left behind and drowned his sorrows over it every night, and most of the day for that matter, in drink.

It didn't matter the drink; ale, mead, beer or wine or something from a local distillery, he drank it all and in vast quantities. For some, being drunk made them tranquil. They sat in a corner with a drunken grin on their face and stayed there until they passed out. For others the drink gave them false bravado and did very stupid things. For the rest, it made them violent.

Modorin was one of these drunks. Every evening (the time depending on when he started to drink) he would be in a drunken rage. Having no other outlet, he would turn his rage on his wife and sometimes his son. Somehow, everyone else in the village managed to turn a deaf ear to the wife's screaming, the son's crying and Modorin's shouting. They also somehow managed to ignore the dark bruises on the female Dunmer's face when she ventured outdoors and the swollen lip on the small boy's face. Maybe they were afraid of him. But still it went on.

It was one wet day that it happened. It had been raining for several weeks now, turning Tares into a mud hole. It was getting colder as summer gave up its hold to fall so the weather was being particularly miserable. As the day darkened to evening, everyone locked their doors. The nightly ritual of screaming and crying was about to begin.

Once again the powerful Dark Elf warrior began his drunken tirade on his helpless wife. He had drunk even more than usual that day, making him even more violent. Behind him, his son watched in helpless terror, wanting to help his mother, but too afraid of attracting his father's attention.

Something must have because Modorin suddenly turned around and began to beat on him. As the blows rained down on him something snapped within the boy. He couldn't take this any longer. A dull knife lay on the crude table behind him and as he backed into it, his hand closed around the handle. With his own bellow of rage, he lunged forward and buried the knife into his father's neck, right by the shoulder.

The boy didn't hear the sound of Modorin hitting the floor, a slightly surprised look on his face. He didn't hear his mother's horrified gasp or the drip of blood from his hand to the floor. All he heard was a horrible silence. He looked up at his mother, more terrified now than he ever had been. She reached for him, but he backed away and ran out the door as fast as he could.

He heard her call after him, saw the other people looking out their doors at the sudden silence and a few try to chase him. None were fast enough to catch the boy, born on by the power of fear. Rain soaked his frayed and worn clothes, plastering his dark hair to his face and neck. His breath gasped in his throat, lungs screaming for air and his throat burning. His legs begged for him to stop but he couldn't…not here, not now.

His body allowed his mind to take him another few miles before it rebelled against him. He collapsed not far from the walls of Mournhold and crawled to the scant shelter of a rock shelf hanging over a dirt patch, now filled with mud. He lay in the mud, sucking in air greedily as the rain fell around him, his tears mingling with the water that streamed from his face.

He was alone now. He had killed his father, run away from his mother and his home. He could never go back now. Not ever. He did not want to join any assassin guild, though he knew they would be looking for him. He was a killer now, no mistake.

He jerked at the thought. A killer. He was only slightly mortified to realize that he held no remorse in him for what he had done. In fact, he had rather enjoyed seeing the blood of that drunken miscreant spurt from the wound, staining his hand and weapon crimson. While killing those of innocent blood repulsed him, he had no problem killing the guilty. Something burned in his chest. Though he resolved to make himself the exact opposite of his father, he wanted to be a warrior. One that defended the weak and innocent and spilled the blood of the evil. Lying under that miserable rock, he made his decision.

XxXxXx

(5 years later)

The same boy, now a sturdy young man, made his way down the road to the city of Chorrol. He had trained hard in Morrowind but had always desired to see the great cities of Cyrodiil. He had heard so much about them and had seen the shiny armor of the Imperial soldiers in Morrowind, that his heart had been filled with longing. Then he heard one of them talk to another about something called the Fighter's Guild.

Never had the young man been so excited in his whole life. A guild devoted entirely to fighting! He had left for Cyrodiil not long after.

Now he went casually along the road, his mace gently bumping his leg as he went along, enjoying the surrounding forests. He was almost sorry when he reached the gates to Chorrol…almost. He was far too excited about getting to the Fighter's Guild.

It was relatively easy to find; a large wooden sign hanging in front of the building said so, but he couldn't read Cyrodiilian yet. He was used to the strange symbols adorning a lot of Morrowind's smaller towns and villages. In fact, most of his education was at a bare minimum at best. Fortunately, the sign also had a picture of weapons that he recognized. A little nervously he went in.

XxXxXx

Razconza, the current Champion of the Fighter's Guild, sat at the chipped table in the front room. For a brand new guild, things were going fairly nicely; they had members and plenty of contracts and brand new guild buildings under construction in Skingrad, Anvil and Bruma. He looked up when he heard the door open and tensed just a little as a young Dunmer entered slowly.

Razconza had dealt enough with the Dark Elves to know that they were a manipulative people, easily twisting things to get what they wanted. Damn good warriors though, but totally untrustworthy. Something about this particular Dark Elf struck him though.

He was tall and muscular, good for the guild should he ask to apply, and obviously suited for blunt weapons as he had a mace strapped to his side. His skin was dark with a slight greenish tinge to it, which seemed familiar to Razconza, and his dark hair shaved up into a Mohawk, a Dunmer warrior cut. His face, strong and angular, also struck Razconza as familiar but he didn't say anything.

"You here to apply, darky?" He asked. If the young male was offended by the insult he didn't show it.

"Is this the Fighter's Guild?" He asked, a little hesitant.

"That's what the sign said, didn't it?" Razconza spat, "You want to apply or not?"

"Yes, yes I do." The young male's eyes widened slightly in excitement. He kept still but his body leaned forward every so slightly with his eagerness.

"All right. First, what's your name, darky?" Razconza asked, knowing that the answer would confirm or deny his suspicions.

The young Dark Elf seemed a little taken aback, probably because no one had ever asked his name before, and seemed a little ill at ease. Finally, after a little fidgeting, he reluctantly gave the old Redguard his name.

"Moderyn Oreyn." He said quietly.

Now it all made sense. Razconza thought the young one seemed familiar; he was the whelp of a particularly dodgy Dunmer warrior called Modorin. Razconza had fought him several years ago in Morrowind and had humiliated him. He had heard that he was disgraced not to long afterward. Now his son stood before him. Yet, he seemed unhappy with his name.

"You wouldn't happen to be that braggart Modorin's son, would you?" Razconza asked casually.

A pair of red eyes glared back at him.

"He's dead. Doesn't matter if I'm his son or not. I am not him." Came the heated answer.

"Dead? How?"

"Doesn't matter. Just be happy he's gone."

"Fine, fine. You ready to start?" The anger left Moderyn's eyes and eagerness replaced it. He was more than ready to begin.

Author's note: I didn't think there were enough Fighters Guild stories and I like Moderyn so I got this crazy idea. Don't worry; I'm still working on my other story. I can multi-task pretty well. Read and review; tell me what you think!!!

-Vanillathunder215


	2. The First Contract

Modryn stared at the piece of paper in his hands. It held the details to his first ever contract for the Fighters Guild. At first his euphoria had been so great that it was all he could do to stammer out his thanks and rush out the door before he burst with his excitement. But his happiness was short-lived as he looked at it for the first time.

He stared at the paper blankly. To him, the letters on the paper were meaningless, just marks on the paper. He had never learned to read really. How on earth was he supposed to complete his contract if he couldn't read the instructions to get there?

He glanced around nervously, but only a bored guard stood by the gate, totally uninterested in the nervous Dunmer. Modryn quickly stuffed the paper into his belt and hurried towards the main gate out of the city. Maybe he could find someone along the path or in the monastery he had passed that could help him. There was no way he was going back into the guild hall to ask Razconza. He had gotten the feeling that the old Redguard had a sour feeling toward his family, not that he could blame him, and toward the Dunmer people in general. Besides, he had been extremely offended being called "darky", something not many people called a Dunmer and lived to tell of it. Stubborn pride kept him away from the hall and rules kept him from getting revenge…for now.

He walked quickly down the gravel path, working up a story as he went to tell the monks why he couldn't read his contract. Each one sounded more and more feebly than the last and he finally gave up as he reached for the door handle, hoping that they wouldn't even ask and hoping, even more fervently, that the contract held some sensitive information that only he should know about.

"Who are you? You don't look as if you belong here." A rough voice asked him.

Modryn nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around. A Dunmer stood behind him, arms crossed across his chest. Moderyn was quick to notice the spiked club on his belt and had no doubt in his mind that this male knew how to use it.

"I…uh, I was wondering, uh…where the monks were." Moderyn's heart was racing in his chest. He was so startled that he couldn't give a straight answer.

"That still doesn't answer my question now, does it?" He asked crossly.

"My name is Modryn and I need assistance from the monks here." Moderyn said a bit more steadily this time.

"What do you need them for?"

Modryn was quickly getting over his surprise; instead he felt annoyance building in his chest. Unless this Dunmer was a monk, he had nothing more to do with him and did not appreciate being harassed like this.

"Look, I need their help and unless you can, either tell me where they are or move out of my way!" He all but shouted, including a curled lip of disgust as well. Quickly, the older Dunmer changed his attitude in the front of Modryn's aggressiveness.

"No need to get angry young one, it's my job to ask questions around here, you know. Enough of those braggart boys in the city come here to mark on the place or vandalize it. Enough to want one to retire early." The older male Dunmer let off his sentence muttering darkly to himself. Modryn waited. "Anyway, my name is Eronor; herder and general watchman here at Wyenon Priory. But exactly what do you want those silly monks for?"

"Well…I just needed the help of someone I didn't think would run and tell Razconza what I had asked." Modryn asked slowly. At the mention of Razconza's name, Eronor went off into another muttered tirade. The younger Dunmer got the impression that he wasn't the only one who had been on the receiving end of a humiliating insult. He waited a moment for Eronor to finish his muttering, feeling he had found a friend.

His feelings turned out to be correct as Eronor willingly helped him understand his contract and told the younger dark elf to come back when he had; He was in need of more training and not in the combat skills.

XxXxXx

Some part of him had told him that this was to be expected. He was, after all, new to the guild and hadn't yet proven himself to be reliable and capable. Yet it still annoyed him that his first contract involved ridding a small settlement off the Gold Road of pesky _deer_. Yes, deer.

Apparently, as he came into view of the tiny collection of houses and small farm plots and was quickly intercepted by the anxious villagers, they prided their gardens as the "best in Cyrodiil". Apparently the deer agreed and every night they would wreak havoc on the tender plants, sometimes chewing them down to the roots and even pulling those up. They wanted Modryn to either kill the deer or drive them off.

Modryn didn't really see the point. After all, there were more deer in these woods than there were people in the Empire and at some point in time, find this oasis to satisfy their bellies when they were sick and tired of simple grass. He couldn't drive them off, they would just as easily return, possibly with more deer, and if he killed them, though the supply of venison would be nice, more would simply return.

Still, he carried out the villagers request and waited by the little plots for the deer that night. Just as he expected, he gained a nice supply of fresh venison, a wonderful change from the dried beef he had been eating, a few skins and even a rack of antlers from the big buck that headed them. After taking care of the herd, Modryn headed over to the house were the villagers were anxiously waiting.

He was a little stupefied at how these people behaved over the news of the demise of the "deadly deer". They ran around the room in hysterical celebration, yelling and cheering. Modryn was careful about keeping his face expressionless though his red eyes gave away his feelings. As the man who he had spoken to earlier ran by, Modryn grabbed his arm and forced him to face him.

"Listen, I'm glad you are so…excited that the deer are gone, but you must realize that there will be more. I can't go out and kill all the deer, so you must protect your gardens a bit more." Modryn tried to reason with the man, speaking clearly and calmly.

"No, no, you don't understand!" the man cried in happy jubilation, "You showed those deer what's what and they won't return! Those gardens are ours and those deer were stealing. I don't think we need to do anything more. Thank you, thank you for saving our precious gardens!" And he took off without further ado, leaving a perplexed Modryn standing there with his jaw hanging open.

He shook off his astonishment with some difficulty and headed outside, eager to be rid of these insane people. He knew that people who lived isolated in a small settlement were practically a breed apart, but never this crazy. And all for a bunch of _deer_.

A nagging sense of duty kept Modryn from leaving immediately. He didn't want to get into any trouble when the deer inevitably came back. He also suspected that if (when) they came back, these crazy people would hunt _him_ down for his head. So with a sigh, he began to poke around the few houses, looking for something to build a neat little fence around the gardens. Finding a sizeable pile of wood and some rope behind what he suspected was a carpenter's house, he dragged it all back to the gardens and spent the rest of the night building the fences while the villagers spent their night in celebration.

The next morning, sore and exhausted, Modryn left for Chorrol, pulling splinters out of his hands and gauntlets as he went, stopping for a few hours to sleep well away from the village. He hoped his next contract was a little more…sane that this last one. He wasn't sure he could put up with much more of that kind of nonsense.

XxXxXx

Razconza didn't seem too happy to see the Dunmer walk back into the guild hall. Though the contract had been easy, so easy that even a legless rat with no teeth could do it, he had been hoping to frustrate the Dunmer by sending him to the crazy-filled village. But Modryn seemed fine, a little tired, but perfectly happy.

With a grunt, Razconza slid Modryn's payment across the table and waved him off. When he didn't move, he snarled at him.

"What, you think you're gonna get a medal or something? You cleared a village of deer, hardly worth the money I just gave you. Get out of here, Dunmer."

"Actually, I wanted to know if you have another contract for me." Modryn said calmly, far too used to this sort of temper to even be fazed by it.

"This aint no factory were things keep popping out like a rat in a cellar. Come back in a week or so and maybe I'll have something for you. Now GET OUT!" Razconza shouted so loud that the windows rattled and an Imperial woman outside stopped short in alarm. Modryn dashed out like an electrified rabbit and disappeared. Razconza leaned back in his chair and smiled. A big voice usually helped to get others moving.

XxXxXx

Modryn didn't slow until he had gotten out of the city gates. He wasn't scared necessarily, but he hadn't felt like waiting around to see what the man would do if he had ignored the order to leave.

He settled into a leisurely walk as he headed for Wyenon Priory, wondering if Eronor would mind if he hung around for a while, seeing as he really didn't have anywhere to go. His hands began to ache again from the numerous splinters he hadn't been able to dig out yet but he ignored it. He would have plenty of time later.

XxXxXx

Eronor was rather surprised that the young Dunmer actually came back. He had thought that pride and ego would have kept him away otherwise but no, he was back. He noticed quickly that the Modryn's hands were still raw and bleeding and graciously spent the next hour and a half pulling splinters from his hands. Modryn didn't say a word the entire time; in fact he kept his face completely neutral, which surprised Eronor. The process had to hurt but the young one in front of him never let on that he felt it. After Eronor had finished, he began to make good of his promise and began to teach Modryn how to read.

XxXxXx TBC….

Author's note: damn deer…Also, I noticed that I had been spelling Modryn's name "Moderyn"…oops. I got that "E" from his surname mixed in with his first name. I apologize. R&R!! ENJOY!

-vanillathunder215


	3. The Ugly Side of Things

Modryn waited the appropriate week before he went to the guild hall to see if he could obtain a contract. While he did not fancy a meeting between him and Razconza again, he was extremely eager to get another contract, for more than one reason.

Eronor had spent the last week drilling letters and words into Modryn's mind, making sure that he could recognize any letter and pronounce it perfectly before giving him simple sentences to read. He had appealed to Modryn's Dunmer pride to encourage him to learn faster. In other words, he had kept attacking Modryn's ego to force him to get it perfect. Oddly enough, it worked. At the end of the week Modryn was reading as well as any middle or upper class citizen. It was surely enough to read a contract.

It was early morning when Modryn walked into the guild hall. It was quiet and mostly empty except for Razconza, who Modryn didn't think slept at all if ever. However something told him that today was different. Razconza was fully suited up in armor and a few packs were sitting on the table. Upon seeing Modryn, Razconza threw one of the packs to him and motioned for him to follow him out of the hall, the usual sneer on his face. Modryn didn't ask the burning questions that were on the tip of his tongue, but waited to see if the answers would present themselves.

They went out of the city and towards the stables were 2 horses stood, fully saddled, waiting. Razconza mounted the big bay and waited while Modryn scrambled into the saddle of the other smaller dark horse. Now Modryn was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. There hadn't been many horses in Morrowind so as a result, Modryn had never gotten much experience with horses. In fact, this was the first time he had ever been on a horse. The horse looked back at him with one dark eye and Modryn silently pleaded that it wouldn't give him any trouble. Much to his relief, it followed Razconza's horse on its own. His relief was short lived as he watched Razconza dig his heels into the big bay, sending him flying down the path. Modryn's horse, like the good horse he was, flew after him, never minding his rider who grabbed his mane and held on tighter than any flea ever could.

Modryn's torturous ride ended at the end of the day at Black Waterside Stables. Razconza slid off his horse without a word. Modryn followed suit, nearly falling flat on his face as his knees tried to buckle underneath him. He forced himself upright, patted the horse on the neck for putting up with a incompetent rider, and started to run after Razconza but nearly collided with a tall Dunmer woman who had been standing behind him.

"Ah, oh, I'm sorry ma'am." He quickly apologized.

He danced around her and took off after his superior who had nearly disappeared through the gates.

Modryn couldn't help but admire the city as he walked along. He had thought that all cities were like Chorrol but Cheydinhal showed a lot of Dunmer influence, making him feel perfectly at home. His stomach growled but he ignored it and his dry throat and other needs that his body was screaming at him to take care of. He would find out why Razconza had dragged him all the way out here for, and then take care of himself.

They started up a long path towards a high stone building. Modryn's heart jumped in his chest. They were heading for the castle! Modryn realized that his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it. A guard who was watching him gave him a rueful smile and a glance toward Razconza. Apparently the Redguard's notoriety spread beyond Chorrol.

Before they entered the great hall, Razconza spun around and pinned Modryn with his eyes.

"Ok, listen up darky." He said with the ever-present sneer. Modryn suppressed a sneer of his own. "We have a contract from the count of Cheydinhal but we needed to get it ourselves. Reason why I'm here is to make sure you don't screw up, so I'm going to talk to the count and you are going to stand still and not make a sound unless spoken to, understand?"

"Perfectly." Modryn ground out. He was getting sick of this man. He was sore, tired, hungry, and thirsty and hadn't been given a chance all day to relieve himself. He just wanted this to over with so he could get his contract and rest. He didn't think it was necessary to put up with insults.

Still, he kept his face expressionless as he followed the Redguard but couldn't keep his red eyes from smoldering with anger.

As they entered the great hall, Modryn forgot his anger as he took in the castle. Not even the noble's houses or mansions he had been in on rare occasions were as extravagant as this. Rich carpets muffled his footsteps and tapestries covered the walls. Expensive furniture and items decorated the hall. Modryn needed 20 eyes to see it all as he swung his head back and forth trying to look at everything. All too soon they reached the throne and Razconza's heavy hand on his back made him remember to bow. Then he took a step back and allowed Razconza to talk, keeping to his end of the bargain. He looked around a little bit more before letting his eyes settle on the count. He almost broke his word.

The count, Andel Indarys, was a Dunmer! Modryn shut his eyes tight for a moment before opening them again. No, is eyes hadn't deceived him; the count was indeed a Dunmer. Modryn didn't know whether to be relived or wary of this. He might be easy, giving a kinsman a contract, but Modryn knew too well how his people could make a deal.

Modryn knew he should but he didn't pay real close attention to what they were saying. Another matter was demanding his full attention. He needed to relieve himself, badly, and he was trying not to move around too much. He rubbed his tongue back and forth along the back of his clenched teeth, willing the conversation to hurry.

Finally, just when he thought he was going to explode, Razconza handed him a scroll and nodded. Modryn took off like a shot. He had noticed a city gate not far from the castle on the way up and it was there that he flew. Most of the guards had seen his fidgets and had figured his problem, so none questioned him as he ran like a nut out the gates and to the nearest bush.

When he finished he pulled out the scroll Razconza had handed him and moved closer to the torches outside the gates to read it;

**Dear Fighters Guild member,**

**You have been contracted by the city of Cheydinhal, under the guidance of count Andel Indarys, to render a great service. We are in desperate need of help in ridding the area along the Blue Road of bandits, as it is destroying commerce. These bandits call themselves the "Blue Brigands" and are very dangerous to unsuspecting merchants and travelers but should prove inadequate against your skill. Please return when all have been eradicated (in any means you see fit) and bring the ring of the leader, a Breton woman, as an indication of their departure. The city of Cheydinhal will forever be grateful should you complete this task.**

It took Modryn only 10 minutes to decipher the note but when he did, he felt decidedly relieved. He had been expecting the worst; his mind had conjured up massive trolls and ogres in small tight caves. Bandits should be easy.

"Do not be fooled, young one." A silvery voice spoke to him from the shadows.

Modryn wheeled around, his mace in his hands before he was all the way around and faced his stalker. The Dunmer woman he had almost run into at the stable emerged from the shadowy trees. Modryn felt his face heat as he realized she had been there the whole time he had. She either didn't notice the reddening of his face or didn't care, but went on with her speech.

"Do not be fooled by taking on a "simple bandit.'" She said, "Even a great hero or warrior can fall by even the most humble of means. You are young and strong, but don't let that get to your head. Be on your guard."

"Who are you?" Modryn asked, finding his voice again.

"I am Mivryna Arano. You, Modryn Oreyn, are an associate for the Fighters Guild."

"How…?" Modryn started to ask, thunderstruck.

"No time for that now. Go get something to eat and drink and rest a little, then take care of the brigands. If you'll excuse me…" Mivryna walked around him and through the gates, leaving a confused Modryn behind.

XxXxXx

Mivryna picked up her pace as soon as she got through the gates, her stride becoming more purposeful and aggressive. She was utterly furious that the young male Dunmer had gotten this particular contract. It wasn't that she didn't think he could do it; in fact she had a lot of faith in him that he could, but her orders had been deliberately disobeyed. That made her blood boil.

As she passed the guards on duty she caught snatches of conversation. None of it was to her likeing.

"…no idea why he would take on a Dunmer apprentice especially since…"

"…I swear he just wants to see that boy dead…"

"…Blue Brigands…don't know why they sent out the apprentice…"

"…murder, Mivryna will undoubtedly have something to say about this…"

That last bit made her smile. Oh, she would have something to say about it all right.

She stalked right up to the Newslands Lodge and all but kicked the door off its hinges. The few patrons inside looked up briefly before returning to their drinks. Her target, she knew, was upstairs. As she passed one of the tables, a hardy Bosmer stood and said respectfully,

"Yes, master? You need me?"

"Yes, Acado, where's Razconza?" She gritted the name out through clenched teeth.

"Upstairs in his usual room. May I ask…where's the new associate? We wanted to meet him." He indicated the 2 other Fighters Guild members who also stood and bowed respectfully.

"Razconza gave him the contract for the Blue Brigands. For that, I'm going to mount his head on the wall in the Chorrol guild hall. For doing what he did to that poor associate, his hide is going to decorate the floor." Mivryna turned on continued on but not before she heard one of them mutter,

"I hope she doesn't…Scare away all potential recruits and clients."

She smiled as she heard the others laugh. Maybe she would simply put it in a backroom…out of sight, out of mind.

XxXxXx

Modryn made his way back to the stables, going around the city walls. He didn't really feel like winding his way through the city and the quiet gave him opportunity to think. He didn't know why the Dunmer woman, Mivryna, had given him such a warning. Surely a handful of semi-organized bandits were mere practice dummies.

But her words nagged him. Finally he decided not to let it scare him, but to be cautious anyway.

He saw the small dark horse he had ridden all day in the back of the pen. It looked up at him with grass sticking out of the corners of his mouth and waited patiently as Modryn went up to him.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to thank you. At least you didn't try to throw me off. I would have, were I you." The horse blinked and lowered his head to resume grazing.

Modryn went back to the shelter outside the pen and searched around for his tack and bag. He pulled it and opened it to find some dried beef, a few apples and a blanket. As he ate, his horse wandered up to the fence and watched him eat the apple. Modryn knew horses ate grass, but apples? He held the other out to the horse and to his surprise, it chomped happily on it. Ah, well, it was the least Modryn could do for it. He pushed the saddle up against the wall and lay back against it, pulling the blanket over him. He only wanted to get a few hours of sleep before starting his contract.

XxXxXx

"What part of 'do NOT put the new recruit on this contract' did you not understand?!?!" Mivryna unloaded on Razconza.

"The kid can do it. If not, well…proves he can't fight, doesn't it?" Razconza didn't look concerned as he munched on a pear, leaning back in his chair. Suddenly, a slim dagger caught the pear just as he was about to take another bite and pinned it to the wall. Mivryna kicked the chair out from underneath him and held a silver longsword to Razconza's throat, her face clear of emotion.

"You listen to me and you listen good." Her voice quivered with anger, "If anything happens to that boy, you are going to pay in blood. You may be the so-called Champion, but I am the Master. You obey me and only me. Understand?"

Pinned as he was on the floor with a sword pointed at his face, Razconza could do nothing else but agree. Mivryna let him up.

"On another note; I don't care what you have against Dunmer or the boy in particular, but the insults and the torture have got to stop." She drew her sword again and backed Razconza into a corner, the sword held much, much lower this time, "And if I ever hear you called a Dunmer "darky" again, you will pay with _these_" She snarled, giving his groin a warning poke with her sword. She backed off, sheathed her sword and left. Razconza breathed a sigh of relief and sank down to the floor. She could be a bat from hell that woman could…

XxXxXx

"Acado!" Mivryna called out as she descended the stairs, feeling much better now that she had vented her frustration.

"Yes, master!" Acado jumped up, ready for orders.

"How soon can you and your men be ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"The contract…the Blue Brigand contract."

"But I thought you said that the new associate was going to handle it?" Acado frowned.

"I don't like the feel of this. He's young and hot-headed, not unlike yourself, but he's alone and apparently new to Cyrodiil. I don't want to lose one with as good potential as he does. Go with him and explain that the master ordered it so because he might protest. How soon can you be ready to go?"

"Since we were under the impression we weren't going to go, it might take us till morning."

"Then hurry…I really don't want anything to happen to this new recruit…especially not what happened to Thia." Mivryna's face fell slightly when she remembered the last new associate and the horrible death she had suffered at a botched contract.

"Yes Master!" Acado jumped up and ran off.

Mivryna watched him go. She really hoped that Acado could get there in time to make sure nothing happened to this new recruit…though it might give her a reason to lynch Razconza from the guild permanently. The only reason he was around was because he was a superb fighter…if nothing else.

XxXxXx TBC….

Author's note; I just decided to throw Mivryna in as a former Master of the Fighters Guild because I almost got my butt kicked by her when I accidentally mounted the wrong black horse in the game. R&R!!

-vanillathunder215


	4. Breathless

Modryn woke up long before dawn. His nerves were too on edge with excitement and little bit of nervousness for him to sleep any longer. He stood up and stretched, his back popping into place after sleeping in a rather uncomfortable place. Then he put his mace on his belt, made sure his leather armor was in place, and set off down the Blue Road.

He didn't think that they would simply jump out and present themselves to him, but he didn't put it past them to try and jump him as he walked along. He remembered seeing some sort of ruins or forts somewhere along the way as he had clung in misery to the saddle of his tireless horse. Those would be a good spot to start his search if he didn't meet up with any bandits along the way.

XxXxXx

Acado hurried his men along as fast as he could, silently unbraiding himself. He should have either sent one of his men or at least bribed a guard to go and tell the new recruit to stay where he was. By now he could have started his mission, making it difficult for Acado to find him.

Finally they were ready and Acado led them off at a swift pace out the gate and down the road. As they passed Black Waterside Stables, he noticed that the boy wasn't there; a sure sign that he was already down the road somewhere. Acado sighed. Nothing was ever easy.

XxXxXx

Modryn stared at the cave for a moment, deciding whether or not he should enter to see if his targets made their home there. He had met up with 1 Blue Brigand and that proved a disappointingly easy fight. Modryn had hoped for a bit of a challenge.

He had pulled a worn, torn and faded piece of paper from the pockets of the dead bandit and on it were instructions on how to get to this cave he now stood before. He re-read the instructions and decided that he had indeed reached the place. He loosed his mace at his belt as he raised his hand to the door.

The cave stunk. Modryn wondered briefly if they kept zombies or trolls as pets for the stench the assaulted his nose as he walked in. He heard the buzz of hundreds of flies and knew that something, or someone, was dead. That would account for the smell. He inched along the passage way, cautiously looking around corners at turns and careful not to make more noise then necessary. He stopped in the shadows of the entrance to a large room. He could see a huge bonfire burning in the middle of the room and he could see the profiles of 3 people in the fire's light. Voices, indistinct and incoherent, wafted across to his sensitive ears but even his good hearing couldn't decipher the words. However, he could hear and see the source of the smell and flies.

In a corner on the same side as Modryn was, was a cage made of crudely cut wood. Inside were several bodies, all in various stages of decay. They must be the bodies of the people they robbed, Modryn thought, merchants, travelers, maybe even a legion or two or other bandits.

Modryn edged closer towards the fire, pulling his mace free. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he got closer, his pupil dilated, his breathing and heart rate picked up speed and a slightly crazed grin spread across his face. The usual feelings before he killed something. He had been born to do this, raised and trained for this moment. He snuck up behind one of the bandits and cleared his throat to get his attention.

He loved watching how the bandit leaped in the air like a startled jackrabbit and whirled around. He saw how wide the bandit's eyes got before Modryn wiped the shocked expression of his face with his mace. In a flash the other 2 leapt up, shouting, and lunged at Modryn. Laughing like a maniac, Modryn welcomed the rush, swinging his mace and decorating the rough stone walls with bright splashed of crimson and bits of flesh and bone.

More bandits rushed in, weapons drawn. Modryn waited, his mace held at the ready. Suddenly, his heart dropped as he watched one of them raise her arm and was engulfed briefly in a green light before disappearing. That put a dent in his plans. His rabid smile vanished as he watched others begin to ready spells to lob at him while the others rushed at him. Raising his own hands he called upon his ancestor guardian to help him out and ran at those he could see, yelling at the ghost to take care of the invisible woman. He realized now that perhaps he had bitten off a bit more than he could chew as magical weapons hummed through the air at him.

XxXxXx

Acado had found the dead bandit by the side of the road and had sent one of his scouts, an Argonian, to follow the barely detectable trail of the young Dunmer. The others inspected the body with some admiration. Half his head was missing and it looked to have been made in one blow. No other injuries marred his body. The new recruit had lots of promise, it seemed.

The Argonian quickly returned, announcing he had followed the Dunmer's tracks to a nearby cave. They all jumped up and ran after him, following his russet red tail as he led the way to the cave. Weapons were loosened as the only Orc, Lurtz Gro-Moleag, with them bashed down the door with his war hammer and they flew down the passage, aware of the smell.

They could hear the shouts of a battle, moans from dead and dying bandits and the distinct cry of a ghost. One ghost. A summoned ghost perhaps? All of them had seen Mivryna call upon her guardian ghost before so they weren't too worried about it.

They flew around the corner of the passage and into the room, just in time to witness the new recruit take on two big Orcs at once, both swinging enchanted Axes. The ghost was indeed a summoned Dunmer guardian and it appeared to be fighting at air until they saw the air shimmer in front of it. A chameleon spell. Acado knew this had to be the leader. Only she would have enough strength and power to perform such an advanced spell. Leaving the ghost to take care of her, he whipped his short sword out at a rushing bandit, gutting him like a pig.

Modryn was doing fine until he noticed that the number of people in the room seemed to have risen. At first he thought that even more bandits had come in, but then he noticed that they seemed to be fighting one another. His attention was quickly diverted by the two Orcs in front of him.

As they bashed away at him with enchanted axes, Modryn could feel his energy begin to drain away. His wrists ached from the recoil and his body, sore from yesterday's ride, was protesting his every move. He landed a lucky blow on one of the Orcs, driving him back and leaving him with one opponent. The axe sliced the air towards his left shoulder and as Modryn danced to the right, it changed course and followed him. Thinking quickly, Modryn jumped up, letting the axe bury itself into the rock next to him. Modryn landed lightly on the hilt and quickly brought his knee up under the chin of the Orc, knocking several of the protruding teeth out and effectively taking out his opponent. He looked up to see all the other Blue Brigands either dead or begging mercy from their attackers. His summoned guardian was crying out in victory over the fallen body of the woman who had turned invisible. One of them looked up at Modryn, smiling, but his smile quickly slid off his face.

"Modryn! Behind you!" He yelled, pulling his bow out and aiming at something behind Modryn. Modryn spun around and tried to evade the blow from the Orc that had backed away first from the fight earlier. He wasn't quick enough and as Acado's arrow slammed in the Orc's throat, killing him, his war hammer collided with Modryn's chest, sending the young Dunmer flying through the air before crashing into a rock wall. He slid to the ground, unconscious.

XxXxXx

Mivryna truly was going to kill Razconza know. The gods judge her when she died but she was going to kill him.

Following better judgment, she had sent him back to Chorrol while she waited for the return of Acado and his men with the recruit. While the new recruit was capable of completing the contract, he was too young and head-strong to understand the threat that these brigands presented. She was about to go and follow them herself when the door of the guild hall burst open and Acado rushed in, holding the door open for Lurtz as the Orc came in carrying the unconscious Dunmer. He looked over at Mivryna with a questioning look and she motioned for him to follow her upstairs.

"Acado, what happened?" She snapped as she ran up the stairs, motioning towards one of the beds for Lurtz to place Modryn.

"He was already gone by the time we left. He had gotten one on the road and I guess got some sort of clue as to where to go. Two-Tails followed his trail to a cave and by the time we had gotten there, the battle was already half won. We picked off the last few, but their moral was already broken as his Ancestor Guardian hacked their leader apart." Acado smiled briefly at the memory of the ghost screeching out a victory cry, "We thought the battle was won when I saw an Orc come up behind him. I called out a warning but it was too late…He got hit in the chest."

As soon as the young male was gently laid down on the bed, Mivryna barked out orders as she pulled her leather armor off. As the others scattered to carry out her requests, she assessed the damage done to the recruit. She hissed when she took in his chest.

It seemed that most of his ribs were broken, sticking out in sharp angles and moving in the wrong direction with every short ragged breath Modryn took. His breast bone was shattered, the shards grinding against one another. Blood leaked slowly from Modryn's nose and mouth, making Mivryna suspect internal damage. She wanted to investigate further but Modryn groaned suddenly, making her back off.

XxXxXx

Consciousness came slowly back to Modryn. Lights flashed behind his closed eyes and a roaring noise filled his ears. He couldn't remember where he was, or what he was supposed to do. He didn't where he was now, didn't recognize the voices around him and couldn't think straight. He groaned in pain suddenly as fingers groped purposefully across his ravaged chest. The probing stopped abruptly and he heard voices encouraging him to wake up. He dragged his heavy eyes open to look at the faces of the Dunmer woman from last night, Mivryna? And the Bosmer from the cave.

The cave! Modryn's eyes darted around the room, realizing he wasn't in the cave, but he had no idea where he was and who these people were. He tried to shift away from them but the pain from his injuries send white-hot shock waves through his body, making him cry out.

"Hush, hush. Don't move. You are in the Fighters Guild hall in Cheydinhal and we are your guild mates. You fight very well, Associate." The Bosmer sounded impressed as he pressed Modryn's shoulders down to prevent him from further injuring himself.

Modryn settled down, but the pain refused to abate. He struggled to breath through the pain. The feeling of not being able to get enough air shot panic through him. He struggled to pull in another breath, still not able to get enough.

"Where is that healer?" He heard someone ask anxiously.

He gripped the mattress of the bed so hard that his nails were nearly ripping the sheets. His breaths became ragged pants, each more desperate than the last. He closed his eyes again against the pain and fear.

"Sit him up! His chest is caving in, sitting him up will allow him to get more air." He heard a new voice order.

Modryn was in no condition to resist the hands that gently lifted his upper body up, allowing him to get a bigger swallow of air. His panic subsided a bit as he sucked more air in. Though it still wasn't enough, he could calm down a little at the new ease.

XxXxXx

The healer shook her head as she took in the injuries. Any lesser being would have died long before she could have gotten to them but this Dunmer fought.

She could tell he was conscious by the twitch of his eyes every time she touched him and by the clenching of his hands on the sheets. She ran her eyes over his body again. His chest was so heavily damaged that she didn't know if she could repair him, and the internal damages were severe enough to kill him even as she worked. As soon as she voiced her opinions, she wished she hadn't. These Fighters Guild types were not only tough, but nearly fanatically loyal to one another, even the new ones.

"Heal him." Was the only reply she got. She closed her eyes in dread and began to send her healing power into the crushed dark body.

XxXxXx TBC…

Author's note; Makes one unable to wait to see what Mivryna is gonna do to Razconza…R&R!!

-vanillathunder215


	5. Changes

Modryn felt like he was spinning. He could feel the bed pressed firmly beneath him but at the same time the room rolled, bucked and spun. He gripped the sheets beneath him to keep from being flung off and held his lower lip tightly in his teeth to help take him mind off the nausea and pain.

He jerked spastically when he felt the jolt from the healing spells course through his chest, making him gasp painfully. He could feel his flesh melding together and broken bones snapping back into place. He hated the feel of bones sliding around on their own accord in his chest. The effect made him feel even more nauseated. He bit his lip harder to keep his stomach from climbing up his throat. Things whirled behind his shut eyes, making him even more disoriented. He barely even noticed that the spells had stopped pumping through him.

He could hear voices, but they were far away and indistinct. A sudden noise and movement made him jerk. He heard shouting and for a moment, he was 10 years old again, back in the small village. He thought he saw his father's upraised hand rise from the swirling mass of sounds, noises and colors, ready to beat the life from him. He flinched when he saw the hand come at him and something touched his face. Yet he didn't feel a stinging slap; it felt more like a gentle caress.

Confused and disoriented, he dragged open bleary eyes, pulling himself away from the swirling madness. He was still in the Cheydinhal guild hall, laying with his upper body supported half up-right in an effort to help him breath and a few of his guild mates in the room with him. An Imperial woman with a scar running below her right eye was sitting next to him, gently stroking his sweaty face and hair. Acado was leaning against the far wall, looking out the door, paying attention to something in the other room, out of Modryn's view.

While only mildly curious at what caught the Bosmer's attention, Modryn was a little more concerned with the lack of air. He tried to suck in air but a sharp pain lanced through his chest with the smallest breath, forcing him to pant in small ragged gasps. Anxious and pre-occupied, he quickly lost interest in whatever it was Acado was intently watching.

What Acado was watching was the scene that went with the bump and loud voices Modryn had heard earlier, which was Mivryna literally throwing the healer out the door when she refused to do anymore for Modryn, saying it was hopeless and any more interference would prove more harmful than helpful. Mivryna's already tried patience had snapped and she had thrown the healer bodily from the room and chased her out the front door, much to the amusement of the other guild members. They tried to hide their smiles as Mivryna muttered darkly to herself as she passed them on her way back upstairs.

"Can't even heal some broken bones…" She growled, "…trained by Cyrodiil's best, yeah right. I would bet my sword that she couldn't tell the difference between a healing spell and a fire ball…" She stopped and took a deep breath before going into the room.

XxXxXx

Modryn watched Mivryna walk into the room and speak with Acado, who nodded and gave Modryn a friendly wink before leaving the room.

"Well, our new warrior is awake. How do you feel Modryn?" Mivryna asked, turning to find Modryn watching her.

"Like I… got hit in the chest… with a… war hammer." He grunted out. He had to pause every couple of words to take a breath, making a simple sentence a huge effort.

Mivryna gave a wry smile at the stupidity of her own question and pulled a chair over so she could sit next to him. The Imperial woman had mercifully let off stroking him, making him feel more comfortable. He wasn't used to being touched at all unless it was a slap.

"I was hoping that the others could have gotten there in time to prevent something like this from happened. You could have gotten hurt long before you did…you got lucky." Her words made Modryn prickle with annoyance. He had, after all, spent the last 10 years in Morrowind training.

"I'm not that unseasoned…you know." He panted, "I was doing fine…until I got careless at the end…though I do appreciate…the help…still completed the contract…"

"What?"

"Looking for…this?" Modryn held out his hand and dropped the leader of the Blue Brigand's ring into Mivryna's hand. He didn't have the breath to tell her that his ghost had brought it to him before everyone had burst into the cavern. Granted, he hadn't personally defeated the leader, but he had summoned the creature who had. What was the difference?

"Am I…still going…to get paid? I did…after all…complete the…contract" He asked hopefully.

Mivryna and the Imperial woman stared at him in shock for a moment before they both burst out into laughter.

"Oh, dear gods." Mivryna sputtered, "Irena, I'm no longer surprised at how he managed to pull through this." She said to the Imperial woman. To Modryn she said, "Yes, you'll still get paid. No wonder you made it, you have more spunk and spirit than most of us put together, not to mention the guts. Razconza underestimated you. I'm still going to torture and murder him and hang his jewels in my house for disobeying my orders, however." Her laughter stopped as she spoke of the Redguard, sparks leaping from her eyes.

"You can…do that?" Modryn asked stupidly. Pain and disorientation made it nearly impossible for him to think clearly.

"As master of this guild I can."

Had Modryn been a bit more alert, he would have been more surprised, but in his present condition, he only became more confused. He wanted to ask more questions regarding this, but his body, protesting his being awake for so long under these conditions, finally gave in to his exhaustion. Modryn fell asleep with a question forming on his lips. Mivryna smiled slightly and left the room silently, leaving Irena to watch over him as he slept. Hopefully, he would sleep soundly the whole time she was gone.

XxXxXx

Feeling confident that her newest recruit would pull through and that he would be well looked after, Mivryna set out that very afternoon for Chorrol. Hell hath no fury than that of a Dunmer woman ignored and Mivryna was scarier than most Dunmer women. Even the birds flew away as she rode past and her horse dared not slow down.

Normally it took about a day to go from Cheydinhal to Chorrol and vise versa, but Mivryna disdained following the roads and took the straightest course she could at the fastest pace the horse below her could muster, even if it meant weaving through the trees at a breakneck pace. In doing this, she made it to Chorrol in record time; the sun was just starting to dip below the trees. She threw the reins of the puffing horse to the nearest person at the stables and charged inside the city, ignoring the alarmed inquires from the city watch.

Ordinarily, Mivryna loved coming to Chorrol and would take her time to leisurely walk the streets and explore the shops before going to her destination, but today she was barely noticed anything as she brushed past people, heading straight for the Fighters Guild hall.

Two members of the watch stopped their patrol to watch her storm up the stairs and all but destroyed the door as she slammed it shut behind her, the sign above the door swinging wildly. Knowing it could only mean one thing, they waited. Sure enough, a few seconds later, a few members of the guild flew out, their faces a mixture of fear and smug satisfaction. It was quiet as more patrols and citizens joined the guild members and the first two watch, who stood a safe distance away from the building, waiting. Then the explosion.

Later, one could describe the scene as a odd form of a 4th of July celebration; the quiet expectant waiting, the explosion of sound and the colorful blasts from various spells that could be seen through the windows, and the "oohs" and "aahs" from the crowd and the happy laughter of children. There was a disappointed groan when the sounds ended, but when Mivryna emerged from the building, everyone began to applaud.

XxXxXx

Mivryna had stormed into the guild hall, slamming the door behind her as hard as she could, and screamed for everyone in the hall to come to attention before her. The few guild members of the hall, 2 Imperials and an Orc, appeared quickly before her. They disappeared just as quickly when she pointed at the door, not needing to use words. When Razconza finally appeared before her, she leaped at him in a rage, her normally calm demeanor and good sense lost in her rage.

"YOU COWARDLY PIG-SUCKING CUR!!" she screamed, lobbing random spells at him, "I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR BLOODY DICK OFF WITH MY BARE HANDS AND MAKE YOU EAT IT!!

Razconza quickly realized that this was no mere threat and bolted, a spell missing his head by a mere inch. Mivryna flew after him like a thunderbolt, pulling her sword free. She was more agile than Razconza naturally and she wasn't laden down with heavy iron armor. One leap was all it took to catch up with the Redguard. With one smack from the butt of her sword to his head, she knocked Razconza down with a huge crash that shook the floor and pinned him on his belly with his face pushed into the wall.

"REMEMBER WHAT I SAID I WOULD DO TO YOU IF HE GOT HURT?!? REMEMBER?!?!" She screamed in his ear.

Unable to move and too stunned to answer, Razconza simply stared stupidly at the wall, which infuriated Mivryna even further if that was possible. She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back, nearly taking it off.

"Well, guess what?" She hissed, lowering her voice to a deadly whisper, which was even worse than her screaming, "He got hurt."

She jumped up. Despite her willowy figure, Mivryna was extremely strong and it took little effort to flip the huge Redguard over with one well-placed kick. She flipped her dagger out and held it where Razconza could see it. For his part, Razconza finally swallowed his pride and screamed, begging her to stop.

"Have mercy?? HAVE BLOODY MERCY!?!" her voice rose to a screech once again, "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR DAMMED BIASED ACTIONS TOWARDS EVERY BLOODY NEW RECRUIT WE GET!! I…HAVE…HAD…ENOUGH!!!!!"

She would have killed him. She was so close to bringing that knife down and ending his miserable life, but her good sense finally burst through her rage. So instead, she slammed the knife down between his legs, burying the knife all the way up to the hilt in the floorboards.

"The only reason I'm letting you go alive and mostly untouched is that you still might have some use to me. Shut up your pathetic whimpering and pay attention!" she snapped. His crying immediately ceased but he didn't stop shaking. "You are going to remain here for the time being as my paper-pusher. You will not hand out or carry out any contracts, that will become Warren's job once I have promoted him to Defender, but you will sit here and take accurate notes on what needs to be completed, what has been completed, by whom and what they get paid. When the guild hall in Anvil is finished, you will go down there and supervise the others in training new associates. You will be under Madrake, who, by the way, is replacing you for Champion. I did mention that, didn't I, that you are now demoted to Swordsman? You have received one demotion for not following my orders, another for several complaints from citizens from various cities on your behavior, another for complaints from nearly every Fighters Guild member, another for the treatment you gave to most recent new recruit and the final one for almost killing him! Now get up and clean up this mess!"

Mivryna didn't bother sticking around to see if he was getting up. She wretched her dagger from the floor, slid her sword back into its sheath and smoothly walked out of the guild hall, feeling much lighter now that her dangerous mood had passed.

While the crowd outside the building didn't surprise her as she knew that she must have made a tremendous amount of noise, the applause she received did. Ever the gracious one, however, she swept low in a graceful bow before going to her fighters. After telling them what she had said and making the appropriate promotions she left the city. She stepped lightly in what was probably the best mood she had ever been in for weeks. She should have done this a long time ago.

XxXxXx TBC…

Author's note: sorry for the lengthy delay for updates. Things got a little crazy for me here.


	6. On The Road Again

Sweat glinted on Modryn's bare chest as he ran along, despite the fresh crisp air. It was still dark, the sun almost at the horizon giving the sky a pale rosy tint to it. It was Modryn's favorite time of day, when all was still asleep and quiet.

He ran on across the thick grass wet with morning dew, his bare feet sliding through easily. He found that running barefoot helped increase his balance and made him surefooted as he had to find the right foothold or suffer the consequences.

It had been 3 months since he had gotten slammed in the chest with a war hammer and all that remained from that day was a small horizontal scar beneath his breast bone, the bones laying the way they were supposed to under his skin. Ever now and then it would give off a twinge, a shadow of the pain he had had to endure for nearly 2 and half months. But he had managed to pull through, much to a lot of people's surprise and to his guild mate's delight.

He got back to the guild hall just as the chapel bells rang 7, still feeling restless despite having just run for 2 hours. While he was recovering, he tolerated being still and cooperative while others went about their day but as he got stronger and his old energy returned, he began to resent watching others come and go on contracts. He wanted to be out there as well, doing what he was best at.

But he knew that there were not as many contracts for an apprentice (yes he had gotten a promotion) as there were for the upper ranking guild members. As for his first promotion, he had gotten the news of this in the form of an old ripped piece of parchment at the bottom of his bag. Apparently, that was how Razconza told his fighters that they had gotten a promotion.

Far from feeling elated by this good bit of news, it just became a reminder of how he was literally trapped in the guild hall. He had promptly ripped what was left of the letter into shreds and threw the remaining bits into the fire, feeling a bit better watching them curl and blacken in the flames.

He kept his head down slightly and his eyes forward as he went into the guild hall so he wouldn't see any clients who might have gathered in the front and walked quickly towards the stairs to the basement. At least he could lose himself down there among the storage boxes or occupy himself in practicing.

"Ah, Modryn, there you are. Come here." Mivryna's voice grabbed him and held him fast. After a brief hesitation he turned and went to her. After all, who was he to disobey the master of the guild?

"I have a contract for you…" She started.

"Really?" Modryn couldn't believe his ears. A flare of excitement rippled through his body but he contained himself, knowing full well that this might have a string attached.

"First, I want to make something clear; you are going to take contracts from either me or Acado only unless I say otherwise from now on. I don't think it's such a good idea you even go back to Chorrol…not for a while at least." Mivryna made a wry face that made Modryn wonder what she had done. After all, he had been a bit pre-occupied during her personal vendetta.

"Unfortunately, your first contract back out is not err…overly exciting or, possibly, even remotely dangerous…or pleasant. You are to travel to Bravil…"

"What are you sending the boy _there_ for?" A voice interrupted Mivryna, causing her to glare. Modryn turned his head to see Acado leaning casually against the door frame, a half eaten apple in one hand.

"_As I was saying_! Bravil needs help in construction for a new sewer system. The man you are to contact, Silvus Renero, the watch captain, will give you more details." Mivryna said, still glaring at Acado, who managed to keep his trademark half smile even while chewing on the apple.

As Modryn turned to leave, Acado's free hand shot out and pushed him back in. Now he had two pairs of red eyes glaring at him, but he was too used to Dunmer, and their glares, to be overly worried.

"Modryn, stop glaring; you'll end up like Mivryna." He said playfully.

"If I end up like Mivryna, I'll have bigger problems than wrinkles around my eyes." He muttered back at the wood elf, his glare melting. Acado gave a slight snort, but managed to bite back his laughter. Fortunately for the both of them, Mivryna didn't hear.

"I think our master forgot to tell you something." Acado said, gracefully keeping the laughter out of his voice.

"Oh that's right!" Mivryna closed her red eyes then opened them again, "Modryn, I didn't tell the clients from Bravil that I was sending a mere apprentice…"

Modryn groaned out loud. He did not want to go through the process of explaining that, despite his low rank, he could actually fight. Maybe he would get lucky and not even have to face the question…that is, unless Mivryna told him he had to tell.

"No, I told them that I was sending our journeyman."

Modryn's head snapped up. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't seem to remember how to work his tongue.

"Congratulations, you are now journeyman of the Fighters Guild. I think that surviving that last contract of yours merited that."

XxXxXx

After Modryn had left to carry out his contract, Acado asked the question that had been burning inside him for sometime.

"What is it about this particular boy that is making you so protective of him, Mivryna? You have never really been this…attached to any lower ranked member. Heck, you rarely get close to anyone except me and Irena." Acado was careful to keep his tone casual in case he sparked a fuse.

"Why, Acado, I thought that you, of all the people here, would have figured that out." Mivryna turned to him, "It's because of this; you, me and Modryn are the only elves in this guild. You and I have been here for years and probably will be here for many more, but Modryn will ultimately out live us here…hopefully. If anyone of us will remain that knows the ways of the guild and be able to protect it in the future, it will probably be him. So, yes, I'm a little over-protective right now…he needs to be alive if he is going to make it to that future."

XxXxXx

Modryn retained his good mood the entire way to Bravil; making the somewhat arduous journey much easier and much more pleasant. Even the weather seemed to agree with him. Sunshine and blue skies graced his entire journey.

It was when he got within the area of the city that he felt the flip side. More correctly, when he got within _smelling_ distance of the city that his grin became replaced with a wrinkled nose. At first he had thought that it was just the bogs and swamps around him, but as he got closer to the walls of the city, it became obvious that the stench was from the city. He had heard stories of Bravil and its infamous smell, but this was a bit much. As he went through the gates, he had to force down a gag.

He didn't relish the thought of going through this city looking for Silvus Renero, the watch captain in charge of the new construction, but the guards by the gate proved no help whatsoever after he inquired to the captain's whereabouts so he was back to the traditional comb through.

Modryn took to breathing through his mouth as he went along, although the smell remained in his nostrils and the thought of the smell going through his mouth and lodging in his lungs was unsettling. He looked around, trying to get his mind off his present situation and experienced his first shock. Even Seyda Neen in Vvardenfell looked better than this dump! Buildings were piled haphazardly atop one another with old brittle wood and shops sat squashed together, the structures so decrepit that they seemed to be leaning on one another for support. Even the castle in the distance seemed old and dirty.

His second shock was the people. It wasn't their appearance so much as it was their mannerisms; no one seemed to notice the smell. Modryn had been utterly convinced that the smell was something no one could get used to but it seemed that the people here had. However, the level of energy that Modryn had gotten used to from Chorrol and then from Cheydinhal was completely lacking here in Bravil. People seemed to drag themselves along in a state of lethargy. It was as if the smell had sapped their strength.

Modryn didn't have too long to look around at the city when a tall Imperial in the Bravil watch armor approached him. Modryn was quick to notice that this man seemed to have more energy than the rest of the city.

"You picked the wrong time to visit the city, friend." He said sadly.

"More like the right time to help. I'm Fighters Guild and I'm looking for Silvus Renero. Can you tell me where I can find him?"

"That would be me. I apologize, I meant to meet you outside the city gates but other matters called for my attention…" He said, sticking out a hand to Modryn, who took it.

"I'm not sure if you were completely filled in on what you need to do, but we need a cave cleared so we can use it for as a sewer system of sorts. Not as sophisticated as the one in the Imperial City, but hopefully it will clear out the smell." Silvus explained as they walked back through the city.

Modryn nodded, unwilling to open his mouth. His stomach had been putting up with the nauseating smell but now it was starting to churn, making him feel anxious. All he needed was a little fresh air… He wished the captain would walk a little faster, but nothing seemed to move very fast in this city. Besides, the man probably didn't notice that Modryn's skin, naturally a greenish tinge, was even greener. He kept on talking about the construction of the new sewer system, unaware of his companion's condition, all the way through the gates and a little ways outside the city.

"Ok, the cave is just over…" Silvus' voice trailed off as he realized that he no longer had the Dunmer's attention.

The over-powering smell had become just too much for Modryn to take, his sense of smell being far more sensitive than a non-mer's. His stomach completely rebelled against him as he bent convulsively on the side of the road.

Silvus waited patiently, completely understanding of Modryn's reaction. He had only been in Bravil for about 8 months now and he had spent the first month either hunched over on patrol or throwing up in bushes or behind buildings.

"The cave is over here. I'm sorry to say that the smell is not much better inside." He said apologetically as Modryn came jogging back, wiping the back of his mouth in embarrassment.

He looked over to where Silvus was pointing and saw a moldy door mostly obscured by some mossy rocks.

"How is this cave going to be used for a sewage system if it is this far from the city?" He asked, partially to himself and partially to Silvus.

"Well, part of it runs directly underneath the canal that runs through the city. We plan on blocking this half of the cave then open the other half under the city. The cave opens out to the Niben River."

Effectively making this portion of the river totally unusable, Modryn thought but kept that to himself. It wasn't for him to argue about the logic of the construction. His job was to clear the cave.

"We had cleared it out some time ago but the workers say they still here something moving around in there. My men are great defending the city and catching crooks, but, unfortunately, none are very good at diving into a dark cave with unknown enemies. Mivryna had said you were pretty good with this sort of thing."

Modryn was pleasantly surprised at this last bit of news but tried not to look too proud. Instead he simply gave a nod and a smile to Silvus and ducked through into the cave.

XxXxXx

Silvus hadn't been lying when he said the smell didn't improve. In fact, added to the stanch was the reek of mold, wet rock and the sour smell of rancid earth, making a much different smell but with no improvement. Unwilling to have his stomach climb up his throat again, Modryn tore a strip off his shirt and tied it around the lower half of his face, the smell of his own sweat much better than the atmosphere around him.

"Clear the cave out." This didn't sound too difficult and Mivryna had warned him that it probably wasn't going to be so. Never-the-less, Modryn kept his mace loose and he searched in every crevice of the cave, searching for the mysterious creatures. But as he went along, he didn't see anything outside the occasional giant rat or imp. He began to relax a little, thinking that the workers had only heard the shuffle of rat feet and the swish of imp wings. Then he began to take note of the smell again, which he had been able to effectively forget over the last hour and a half. Instead of getting weaker the farther he went underground, away from the source, it was getting stronger. He tried to shake it off, thinking that, since the cave went underneath the city, there might be an opening that was letting the smell in. But the warning bells in the back of his mind refused to be pushed back. He had appeased his nerves, but not his mind.

He should have listened to his 6th sense as it all but slapped him in the face, but he stubbornly kept going until he came to an old wooden door. It was rotten, the planks shiny with condensation and nearly black with mold from years of being wet. Modryn reached up and put his hand on it to push it open, his hand unexpectantly sinking in the water on the door. He realized that it wasn't water, but was, in fact, a thick mucus-like slime that nearly glued his hand to the door. He pushed the door open and wretched his hand from the door, shaking the slime off his hand and stepped through.

It was then he realized that the smell in Bravil was not wholly due to bad sewage. He also realized that the workers had been right and lastly, that he should have listened to his 6th sense. Red eyes went wide in shock and fear and his mace came out, but how much good would it do him in his present situation?

XxXxXx TBC…

Author's note; sorry it took me so long to get this posted, it's been a crazy month for me so far. I'll pick up the pace a bit now.

-Vanillathunder215


	7. Fire Conquers All

Modryn swung his mace just in time to send the head of one of the zombies flying through the air, knocking the half decayed corpse back into the pack behind it.

He had apparently stumbled into an entire den of zombies and they didn't appreciate the intrusion, especially by one that was still alive. The stench was over-powering and Modryn fought to keep from gagging as he frantically tried to defend himself against the over-whelming numbers of zombies that pressed toward him.

Somehow, a few managed to get behind him and began to force him through the door into the cavern ahead of him, towards the main pack. Trying to avoid being surrounded, he ran through, bursting past zombies before they could grab him. He slipped and slid his way through the slime, feeling their over-long nails drag against the skin of his arms and neck, desperately looking for a good vantage point where he could fight back without having to face all of them at once. Almost unconsciously, he raised his hand and summoned his Ancestral Guardian, feeling slightly relieved when it's shimmering form appeared and immediately plunged into the mass of walking corpses with a screech, buying Modryn time he needed.

With the zombies momentarily distracted, Modryn dashed up an extremely narrow incline against the back wall. It was probably a spot where a piece of the wall itself had fallen away but it gave Modryn height and space advantage as only 2 or 3 zombies at most could get to him.

He took them as they came, bashing chunks out of their bodies as they reached for him with over-grown nails. Yet despite the tremendous amount of damage he was doing to them, they just didn't seem to die. Only his Ancestral Ghost was doing any significant damage but the spell wouldn't last forever and Modryn couldn't afford to use up the energy to summon it again. Sweat ran in rivulets from his face and neck, his bare arms shiny from sweat and the slime that the zombies seemed to emanate. His hands and wrists were numb now, his arms feeling a jarring pain each time his mace made contact. He had to think of something quick.

Suddenly, he remembered something he had heard of once back in Morrowind. To kill an undead, one needed either magic or a better weapon than his iron mace. He dropped his mace then, not caring where it fell and held his hands out in front of him, concentrating on the spark of magicka in him. Heat built in his chest and moved down his arms to his hands. He let it loose in the form of a fireball that struck the nearest zombie square in the face, setting it ablaze. It gave a screeching moan then fell…completely still.

The cavern lit up as fireball after fireball flew from Modryn's hands. He didn't try to aim or use his energy economically. He just shot fireballs at anything that moved until his knees gave out. His hands finally fell to his sides limply and for a long while all he could do was suck in air and try to control his shaking limbs. All around him the burned corpses of the zombies lay like charred logs. Thankfully, the worst of the stench was gone…though the reek of burned flesh had taken its place, it was better than rotting flesh. Modryn didn't know, nor cared, if it was because the zombies were dead or if he had literally scorched the smell out. He was just glad it was gone.

After he recovered enough, he slowly got to his feet. His legs felt like jelly and threatened to give underneath him but stubborn will kept him up. He picked up his mace, making a slight face at the slime that covered it as well as bits of flesh, but then he realized that he, too, was covered in slime.

He then carefully explored the cavern, not quite sure now what he was looking for but searching none-the-less. Finding nothing, he left the cavern and carefully went back the way he came. He was finished as far as he was concerned. He had done his job of clearing the cave and all he wanted now was to wash the slime off of him and sleep.

About half way back he suddenly felt a fresh puff of air on his skin. He looked around for the source and noticed a small opening in the roof. He had missed it the first time because it obviously was partially covered by something, effectively blocking out sunlight, and it looked like any other depression in the rock unless one was standing directly under looking up. Wondering where the hole opened up to, Modryn took the strip of cloth he had used earlier to cover his face and shoved it up through the hole, thinking he could try to re-trace his steps later above ground to see where it led, and then continued on his way out.

Silvus, though glad to see him again, took an involuntary step back when Modryn emerged from the cave. The young Dunmer didn't blame the man…anyone with half a nose would have as well.

"Undead?" Silvus asked in astonishment when Modryn had finished telling him of his adventure in the cave, "Well, thank the Nine that you got rid of them. Maybe now Bravil will start to clear up a bit. Fortunately, no one got hurt while they were in the caves. Now that this mess is over, we can resume work."

Maybe it was irony but it seemed to Modryn that the roles had switched; Silvus was the energetic one with sensitivity to the reek of undead and Modryn was the phlegmatic one who couldn't care less about the smell.

XxXxXx

That night (after Modryn spent nearly two hours trying to get the slime off his body) it seemed that most of the city watch wanted to celebrate. Of course, Modryn couldn't exactly say "no" to something like this, even though he was dead tired.

Like any good city watch parties, celebrations, get-togethers or reunions there was beer…and ale and mead and wine…lots of it. About 2 hours after the drinking started, most (if not all) of the guards were roaring drunk. At first, Modryn was a little uncomfortable by this, used to Morrowind where drunken guards could sometimes mean dead guards, but then he noticed that no one seemed to be bothered by the drunken guards. In fact, no one even turned their heads. He didn't know that drunken city watch guards were a common occurrence…especially in Bravil.

He waited until all the guards were either too drunk to see straight or passed out (which didn't take too long) and simply left. He had never been overly social in the first place and he had no desire to see how bad the guards' hangovers would be the next morning. He was exhausted and wanted to find a place to sleep where he wouldn't have to listen to snores that were loud enough to wake a stone dragon. He thought he had seen an inn not too far from the barracks and soon he came across the Lonely Suitor Lodge. Dilapidated like the rest of the city, but he didn't care. He fell asleep as soon as he fell into the bed.

XxXxXx

As soon as Modryn arrived back in Cheydinhal a few days later, he went immediately to Mivryna. She didn't talk much, just paid him and sent him off, telling him to take a few days rest before receiving another contract. The door to her office was closed and Modryn thought he could hear voices arguing behind it, but, after seeing the look of ragged frustration on the guild master's face, he didn't say anything about it and left Mivryna alone.

Feeling bored and restless after such a gripping contract, he left the guild hall and wandered around the city a bit, trying to take his mind off his restlessness.

Cheydinhal was not the most active of cities and Modryn found the place mind-numbing, fueling his restless energy. No one moved faster than a sedate walk and the shops were generally quiet. Even the local tavern was quiet, but then it _was_ midday. Everything moved in slow motion it seemed. Unable to stand it any longer, he went out of the city towards the guild's practice field, hoping he could find something, anything, of interest there.

XxXxXx

Acado watched, impressed, while an Orc swung his iron hammer with all his might at the dummy. He was thinking that the large green creature might be a valuable addition to the Fighters Guild when the Orc lost his balance suddenly. The hammer swung wildly and missed the dummy completely, crashing into a nearby tree. Quickly, the Bosmer dove out of the way as splinters of wood flew everywhere. This was exactly why Acado always had the Orcs practice outside the city walls…no one was likely to get hurt or turned into a wooden pincushion and their guild hall would stay up a few more years.

"A little more practice, I think, and you will have no problem out in the field." Acado said with forced cheerfulness, pulling himself up off the ground and pulling splinters out of his skin and clothes.

The Orc scratched his head. "Aren't we already out in the field?"

Acado stopped brushing off bits of wood from his shirt and stared. It was just what he needed; another Orc that had far too much muscle and nowhere near enough brains.

He sent the Orc back off to the guild hall and turned towards his audience. He had known that someone had been watching the minute their eyes focused on him. It was an awareness that had saved his life many times and it had been honed to perfection over the years. While he couldn't tell who it was, he had a pretty good idea.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked, walking up to where Modryn was standing.

The young Dunmer shrugged. "Depends on what you plan on using him for; fighting or expanding our practice field"

"That was probably as close to a joke as you have ever been." Acado said, "As for the Orc; nothing that involves thinking, I can reassure you that. Most Orcs here have good amount of intelligence…but that one seems to have gotten the blunt side of the smart sword."

White teeth stood out vividly on Modryn's dark face as he grinned. They disappeared rather quickly, however, when Acado tossed an iron bow at him. Modryn caught it and raised an eyebrow at the Bosmer questioningly. Acado only gave him his trademark half smile.

XxXxXx

A few hours later, an amused Acado followed an irritated Modryn back into the guild hall. Modryn's red eyes were literally shooting sparks, most of which were directed at Acado, who was lucky that looks couldn't kill, or he would have been roasting on the spot.

"I thought you Dunmer were supposed to be good at this sort of thing." He said, intentionally provoking Modryn into a fouler mood.

"I trained only in close range." He spat out through gritted teeth.

"So?" Acado asked, "I was under the impression that Dark Elves had some sort of natural inclination for marksmanship."

Modryn decided not to give Acado the satisfaction of an answer. In truth, he had never liked long-range weapons, preferring to face his opponent and look in their eyes while he fought. Using magic was about as long range as he got, but even then he would get close to his target. He had never even picked up a bow before now.

As a result, he could barely shoot the arrow even remotely close to the target. At first Acado had been a little shocked at his lack of marksmanship but as they progressed, he had become more and more amused, trying, but unable to hold in his laughter, teasing his darker companion mercilessly. Modryn got so frustrated that he actually hit the edge of the painted hay target, but that was only once and he gave up soon afterwards, boiling with rage. Completely out of spite and to try to defuse his anger, he burned several arrows to cinders with a few well-placed fireballs. It didn't help.

"You are the first elf I have ever met that didn't have some semblance of skill with the bow." Acado bit his lip to hide his smile, "Even an Altmer can hold the thing for gods' sake!"

That was going too far. If there was one race in the world that Modryn couldn't stand it was an Altmer. He threw the bow down and crouched into a fighting stance, challenging the Bosmer in front of him.

"What is going on here?" Mivryna appeared in the doorway leading to her office, taking in a seething Modryn and a still-laughing Acado.

"Oh, hello master." Acado said smoothly, ignoring Modryn, "How is the organizing going?"

Mivryna winced. "More like a war between me and this bloody mess!" she groaned, stepping aside to let them see.

Members of the Fighters Guild were notoriously horrible at organization of things not pertaining to weapons or fighting, but Mivryna was in a class by herself; precarious stacks of papers teetered on the desk, books lay haphazardly on shelves and some on the floor, quills mingled on the desk, ink was splattered on a few stray sheets of paper from a broken quill, pots of ink balanced alarmingly on the edge of a shelf, contracts, payrolls, handbills and Black Horse Couriers were strewn all across the room. For a moment, both men were silent, each forgetting their earlier feud.

"It's pretty bad, huh." Mivryna said sheepishly, a reddish hue coloring her cheeks.

"Master, it's…No, I'm not going to say it." Acado cut himself off.

"Probably better that you didn't." Mivryna said looking at Modryn, who was still glaring at him, then said brusquely, "Acado, shouldn't you be in Kvatch right now on that contract?"

"On my way." Acado said, turning back to the door and neatly side-stepping around Modryn who had fire dancing around his fingertips, "Oh, and, by the way, don't make Modryn use a fireball to clear the room. It didn't work too well last time you tried it."

"GO!"

XxXxXx

Several long days later Mivryna finally called Modryn in to her office (after she was certain he had cooled down enough to not set fire to the place). He went quickly, eager for a contract, though he entered her office a little warily. Much to his relief, her office had been conquered. All the papers had been filed away (more or less) and everything claimed a spot. Modryn wasn't quite sure how she managed to clear up the atrocious mess in just three days but he had a strong suspicion that she had employed the "help" of a few green recruits.

"This contract is a bit tricky." Mivryna told him, handing over a roll of parchment, "Normally, mages don't bother us unless it's a really dirty job or they are too lazy to do it themselves. This time it's a little different. Some mage scholars from the Mages Guild here in Cheydinhal want an escort to an Ayleid ruin northeast of Chorrol. They may want you to go with them inside, they may not. I suggest you do because those ruins are often home to some rather unpleasant things and if these mages want an escort that means they can't fight worth a damn. Maybe they know some destruction magic but don't hold your breath. Please try to keep them alive, it might affect how much you get paid. Go to it."

Modryn nodded and left. On his way out the door, he noticed a few new recruits sitting at the table, talking to one another. His sensitive ears easily caught their every word and he slowed just a little to hear more.

"I can't believe Mivryna had us clean her office." A young Nord male complained.

"I couldn't believe the mess! Even an Orc is more organized than that." An Imperial girl moaned.

"At least she got Lorz Tor-Ghonz to move the heavy stuff…" another Imperial said.

Modryn smiled to himself as he shut the door behind him. Of course Mivryna would have gotten them to do the worst of the work. She was a fighter, not a paper pusher.

His smile faded a little as he went around the corner to the Mages Guild. Aside what came naturally to him, Modryn knew very little about magic, but knew more than he cared to about mages. The ones he had known back in Morrowind had been arrogant backstabbers; dangerous to be with and frustrating to deal with. He hadn't seen many Cryodiilic mages yet, but the ones he had seen he hadn't been overly impressed with.

He pushed open the door to the guild hall, hoping that he was wrong.

XxXxXx TBC…

Author's note: sorry it took me so flippin' long to update. I got bit by a writer's block gremlin and football season is sucking up my spare time. I'm going as fast as I can and I promise I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible.

-Vanillthunder215


	8. Undead Again?

Modryn glanced back at the four mages following him as they walked along the road. He had been a little apprehensive about this contract from the beginning but when he had met his charges, he had been doubly so.

Three of the mages were young, two Bretons and an Imperial, and had little to no sense about them. The last one, an older Altmer, seemed to have much more sense than his young pupils. He had enough sense to realize exactly what Modryn was thinking. He had taken the Dunmer warrior aside and said,

"They may be young and slightly senseless but they know some useful spells. I'll keep them in line. Just take care of the creatures for us and we won't bother you, unless you are against traveling with an Altmer."

He said that last bit without malice or challenge, more like a friendly jab. Modryn just heaved a sigh and nodded, casting a worried look over at the other three.

However, as they went along, the Altmer was true to his word. They didn't bother Modryn nor did they create a commotion as they went along. In fact, Modryn slowly began to relax some.

However, his calm was soon to be shattered. When they arrived at the ruin, Modryn began to feel the first tug of doubt and suspicion as he took in the crumbling mass of stone. Something about it sent shivers down his back, gave him a feeling he just couldn't shake. But there was nothing he could do except follow the mages inside the ruin.

XxXxXx

The inside of the ruins were dark except for the weird glow coming from the stone brackets set on the walls. There was no fire in them and all Modryn could see were weird glowing stones inside. He had been warned that creatures may have taken up residence in the ruins but so far he hadn't seen nor heard any sign of them, making him tense and nervous.

All he could hear was the swish of the mage's robes on the floor and their hushed whispers. Though they were trying to be quiet, they were woefully inexperienced with moving as such and effectively blotted out any other noise.

They came suddenly to a stone door with an image of a tree glowing on it. There was no obvious way of opening it but as Modryn looked carefully at it, one of the younger mage's darted forward suddenly and placed his hand on the center of the glowing tree. The door groaned and cracked as it slid open, vibrating the walls. Modryn glared at the mage, who shrank back sheepishly. That noise would have alerted any monster or creature within the ruins to their presence; something Modryn didn't want to do. The Altmer cuffed the younger one with a sharp word as he slid back but other wise all the others were quiet.

Modryn held still a moment, ears straining to catch even the slightest noise. After what seemed an eternity of silence he motioned for the 4 mages to follow him again. They went through huge cavernous rooms with crumbling benches and pedestals, the ornate carvings on the walls falling off bit by bit, down halls with elaborately decorated walls and pillars. It seemed like they had gone on for miles through this place, a decrepit shadow of a once magnificent place.

They finally came into a huge room, bigger than all the others. There was a raised platform in the center of the room and a small loft with stairs leading up to it against the far wall.

By now Modryn was a nervous wreck. They had seen nothing, not even a rat, which had sent warning bells ringing in the back of his mind. He couldn't see, hear, or smell anything unusual. But that didn't allay his fears in the slightest.

Carefully they explored the room, looking for signs of life… or a trap. The further they went in the room, the colder the air seem to get, like there was something in the room with them, watching them, waiting for a chance to strike. Finally, they climbed the stairs to the loft in the back. There was nothing up there except a small pedestal with a push block with a blue stone on top of it. The same eager mage that had opened the door earlier started forward, but jerked to a halt and glanced over at his Dunmer guide, who simply shrugged. He took that as permission and pushed the block.

The ground rumbled slightly beneath their feet as stone steps rose from the ground around the platform in the middle of the room. Modryn stayed where he was on the loft as the mages ran toward the platform. From his vantage point he could see almost the entire room…and whatever might show up suddenly. He could also see a similar pedestal on the platform like the one he was standing next to, except there was statue or something on it instead of a push block.

He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm himself down, but as he let his breath out, it rose in front of his face in a misty cloud, causing him to jerk to attention. The air seemed to freeze all around him, giving everything a light coat of frost. He heard a familiar grind of stone against stone and took off at run down the stairs.

As he ran, he berated himself; stupid to think that these ancient ruins would relinquish their prizes so willingly! He yanked his mace free and looked around for the enemy he knew was around. The air got colder still and he spun around, weapon raised to ward off the oncoming attack…

…only to get hit in the chest by a powerful ice spell. It knocked him backwards onto the steps, his head striking the stone. His slid, unconscious, to the ground.

The mages were frozen in fear and shock. They were not trained in any combat spells what-so-ever, which was the whole reason why Modryn had been contracted to go in the first place. They were scholars, used to a life of safety and moderate comfort. The most dangerous thing they had ever really faced was a stray rat in a storage room. Now a lich was coming right at them, pointing at the statue they had. Magicka began to crackle at its fingertips as it began to cast a powerful spell that most likely would have killed them.

Just then, the lich's back seemed to explode. It screamed as embers danced through the air and spun around, revealing its smoldering back, and turned its attack on Modryn, who had just staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his face.

This time he was more prepared as he met the lich head-on, his mace crashing against the wooden staff it held. He had to protect himself against not only the staff, which the lich was using as a weapon, but also from the magic it produced, as well as magical and physical attacks from the lich itself.

To Modryn's advantage, the staff only produced fireballs, which, as everyone knows, Dunmer have the ability to deflect somewhat. He dodged the magical attacks from both staff and lich and used his mace to block the physical ones.

Then he caught the staff in a perfect solid blow and snapped it in half, knocking the pieces from the lich's clawed hands. With a howl it threw itself at Modryn, claws outstretched and glowing. The Dunmer found himself on the defense from the sudden frenzied attack, slowly being pushed backwards. Finally, he threw his other hand out in front of him and, almost purely by accident, cast a fireball like the one he had used on the zombies in Bravil.

It worked like a charm. He found that liches were just as flammable as zombies and immediately switched to offence; swinging his mace with one hand while setting the lich on fire with the other.

Finally, the burned mauled carcass of the lich fell and Modryn was able to step back and pull in a much needed breath. His head ached and spun but not unbearably so. He was about to straighten up and go check on his charges when he heard an all-too-familiar creak.

He spun around and buried his mace in the rib cage of the skeleton that had tried to sneak up behind him. He ripped the mace back out, sending pieces of bones flying, effectively making the whole thing fall into a pile before him. Then he noticed that doors were opening up all around the room, letting in an entire army of skeletons. Behind them, he could see his old friends, zombies, limping through. In his condition, Modryn wouldn't be able to fight them all off. They had to get out of there.

"Get down from there, you fools!" He screamed, his voice cracking from fatigue, "You're sitting ducks up there!" He struck the skull of a charging skeleton, shattering it, and blocked the wild swing from the headless thing, before breaking its spine. He heard an ungodly screech, which grated his already throbbing head, and turned to see the lich rise up in the air, writhing, before condensing in on itself.

Distracted as he was with the dying lich, he didn't see the skeleton archer bend its bow until he heard the _twang_. The arrow buried itself in his side, easily going through his leather armor. The force of the blow knocked him on his side. He felt pain, but the adrenaline pumping through his system kept him from feeling the full force of it. He snapped off the shaft close to his body and began to battle his way through the mass of undead.

He glared up at the still un-moving mages, "If you have ANY useful magic…NOW WOULD BE THE TIME TO USE IT!!" he bellowed.

It startled the mages enough into making them move. One raised his hands and a green light surrounded him and he disappeared. Great, Modryn thought, now_ I_ can't see him. If he gets hurt he'll end up zombie bait as none of us will be able to see him. Another mage, however, cast a spell on Modryn, who quickly realized it was a shield spell and a pretty powerful one as it proved as the next arrow that came at him slid away, as did a blade that managed to get past his parry.

Modryn tried his hardest to put more power behind his attacks, but he was rapidly becoming more and more fatigued. The skeletons were easier, requiring only a few good hits before collapsing in a pile of bones. The zombies however were going to be a problem. Modryn, already dizzy from when his head had slammed against the stone, was even more so from blood loss and he couldn't summon up the energy for a magic attack against the zombies without losing consciousness. As a mass of them began to come at him, he tried to push the thought that they all just might die here out of his head. He tried to summon up his small amount of magicka.

More spells suddenly zoomed over his shoulders and the wall of zombies turned and ran, moaning frantically. Not wasting any time, Modryn motioned to the mages, who had finally joined him on the ground, to follow him out the door which they came.

"No, wait." The Altmer grabbed Modryn's shoulder, "There's always a shortcut back towards the entrance!"

"Here here, it's over here!" They all looked around as the mage that had turned himself invisible suddenly reappeared on the loft, pointing towards a small doorway he had found.

Modryn forced his leaden limbs to move, ignoring the pain and the feeling of warm blood running down his side. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

The mage spoke true when he said that it was a shortcut. It led right beck to the entrance or right above it more correctly. Quickly, they ran for it, up the stairs and out the stone door into the welcoming sunlight. Modryn was not sorry to leave the cursed stone ruin behind. He didn't want to even be anywhere near it and wouldn't let the four mages stop. He hustled them on for about half an hour until they reached the back road that led to Chorrol. There he felt safe enough to rest a while.

He all but collapsed on the ground, whiles the three younger mages, somehow none the worse for wear, pulled out the statue again and began to look it over. The Altmer mage, the oldest one that Modryn had credited with the most sense came up to him.

"I thank you for helping us out with this quest." He said slowly, "I didn't know of any of those dangers. Without you we would all be dead, though I'm sure it wasn't an easy fight for you. I'm sorry to say none of us are very skilled in healing." He added, taking in Modryn's bloody head and side, "Just mysticism, illusion and a few other spells. Mostly we're scholars." Modryn just nodded, too tired to say much.

"I can take you to Chorrol…can you make it on your own there?" he gasped. The mage nodded.

2 hours later, Modryn watched them enter the city gates before walking away. He didn't feel like entering the city, but knew where he could go. As he walked towards Wyenon priory, something in the back of his mind told him that it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do to try and get to Eronor's in his condition, but his foggy mind had given up on sense. The last of the adrenaline finally left his system and with it, the last of his strength and energy. His side began to throb so bad he could barely remain upright. Blood loss and concussion made him so dizzy he could barely see straight, let alone walk straight.

He staggered like a drunk almost half way there when he suddenly felt really cold. He tried to go on, but he had pushed his injured body too far and it gave up on him. He fell to his knees in the grass. Grass? Why would he be on grass if he was on the road?

What he didn't realize was that in his disoriented state, he had staggered off the road a ways. He was too weak to try and find his way back and besides, he had no idea where he was exactly. In exhausted defeat, he slumped to the ground.

Then he suddenly saw a pair of feet in front of his face. Dark, like his own skin. With the very last dregs of his energy, he looked up and managed to bring into focus the face of a Dunmer woman. His last thought was that he had never before seen anything more beautiful in his life. Then everything went black.

XxXxXx TBC…

Author's note: sorry that's its taken me so flippin' long to update but here it is…finally. Just a side note but I know some things may not seem exactly as it is or should be in the game (like the whole zombie thing. Yeah, you can kill them with any old weapon, but it didn't suit my purpose then) as I have dramatized some things a bit. Just to clear things up a bit.

Also, for those who are wondering why Modryn isn't acting nearly as crabby as we know him to be know this…I haven't gotten there yet. I have a special plan for this heeheehee…

-vanillathunder215


	9. Mystery Woman and Nonexistant Goblins

"You are easily the most hard-headed dark elf I have ever met in my whole life." Acado said as they walked along the road to Cheydinhal. "In more ways than one."

"You couldn't resist adding that could you?" Modryn added, somewhat sourly, "I really don't care if none of you ever believe me, I know what I saw."

Ever since he had woken up from a nasty concussion some days ago, Modryn had kept on insisting he had seen a Dunmer woman in the woods after he had blindly stumbled off the road. How else could those legion patrols have found him on the road? But no one had seen this mysterious woman. Acado himself had even gone out into the woods and searched. Even the Bosmer, the expert in tracking, couldn't find a single sign of her.

Everyone else had been utterly convinced that she had been nothing more than just a hazy hallucination to the injured and concussed Dunmer's mind, but Modryn knew otherwise. However, after making it clear he completely disagreed; he kept his mouth shut, not wanting others to think his brains were even more rattled than they thought. He hated it when people started fussing over him.

Acado, while not totally agreeing with his dark friend, did not actually agree with what the others were saying. After all, if Modryn had been so far off the road as he had claimed he had been, then how in oblivion did he end up back on the road then? Acado was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he let his teasing with Modryn go and fell silent. For his part, Modryn was too annoyed with the whole situation and too relieved for the silence to even wonder at the silence, something unusual for Acado.

The silence stayed with the two as they walked through the gates to Cheydinhal and all the way to the guild hall. By now Modryn's ire had cooled and Acado had an idea buzzing in his head, but still neither said a word but reported straight to Mivryna, as they were supposed to.

"I must say I'm impressed Modryn, if not entirely happy about the situation." Mivryna said, "Go now and rest for a few days. When you come back I'll have something for you."

Modryn nodded and turned to leave. Acado started to move as well but a look from Mivryna kept him where he was. She waited until Modryn was completely out of ear-shot, which took quite a while with those sensitive ears of his, before turning to Acado.

"So tell me what happened." She said with a sigh.

"It was exactly as the messenger said; legion troops found him unconscious on the road. They dragged him the rest of the way to Wyenon Priory and Eronor took him in until I got there. When he was somewhat coherent, he said something about a Dunmer woman in the woods. No one found even the slightest trace of her though." Acado said with a slight shrug.

"He was heading for Wyenon Priory to begin with?"

"He was headed for Eronor. Apparently, he met him back when he first joined the guild." Acado smiled at that, marveling at the good luck.

"What luck would have it that the newest member of the guild, under the most volatile man, would end up under the wing of the former Fighters Guild master?" She said, reading Acado's mind, "But this woman Modryn spoke of…a hallucination, maybe?"

Acado was shaking his head before she even finished speaking, "No, something else. While I don't doubt he was pretty out of it, I doubt even more that he would hallucinate such a thing. He's always kept his head…even when he got his chest hammered in, remember?" Mivryna nodded and Acado continued, voicing the theory he had formulated while walking home, "No one else could have moved through the woods like that and leave no trace…at least nothing that I couldn't pick up." Mivryna had no doubt to his claim. He had, after all, been born and raised in the woods. "Someone _was_ there…where they went though, I couldn't tell. However, I think I know who it was."

Mivryna raised an eyebrow as his voice drifted off. He had piqued her curiosity and now he was about to leave her with a cliffhanger.

"No, I'm not going to say yet…I want to be perfectly sure before I lay claim." He said, "Besides, I don't want wildfires of rumors flying around. Modryn's got enough to worry about if the mission you're going to give him is the one I think you are."

"I'm not going to worry too much about that…about the rumors or Modryn. He's got a nice hard head, much like you in fact. Don't worry too much about the mission. Yes it is the one you're thinking about, but here's why you aren't to worry…you are going with him." Mivryna said.

Far from taking offence at the subtle insult, Acado just smiled cockily in return. He was looking foreword to this next assignment. The one he had done in Kvatch had been far too boring.

XxXxXx

Silent, light feet walked carefully over the rocky ground towards the cavern door. So careful was the dark elf woman that not a single pebble was disturbed by the passing of those bare feet. Her red eyes were locked on the wooden door, but still she moved carefully. She knew people were tracking her.

She opened the door silently and slid in, all without a sound, and made her way across the cave's single room. In the back, behind a huge roaring fire, was her master.

As she got closer, however, her shape began to twist and morph; her dark skin melted off, replaced by a skin much lighter. Her red eyes also changed, but became darker instead. All elf-like characteristics melted off her, to be replaced by those of a human. Soon, a Breton woman stood in her place.

"Did you find the boy?" a dark voice hissed from the shadows behind the fire.

"I did." The Breton woman said, "I also found the Bosmer tracker. Everything is in place. Our plan will not fail."

"Good. Bring all that you can to me…alive, but dispose of any bodies you leave behind."

The Breton woman bowed low, "Your words are my commands, master." She murmured to the stone floor.

"Leave me now. Go fulfill your mission and bring the two elves back here. Do not fail me in this…or you will take their place."

The Breton woman was quick to leave. She did not doubt her master's words in the slightest. She would not, could not, fail.

XxXxXx

"I need you both to go and wipe out a goblin tribe that has been attacking a small village called Hillswatch, west of Kvatch. I'm sending the two of you because, reportedly, this is no small band of goblins and are pretty strong." Mivryna added, glaring at Modryn and Acado when they both made faces at the mention of goblins, "Do not, I repeat, do NOT underestimate this. I don't want anymore injuries." She looked pointedly at Modryn when she said this. She hadn't said his name, but she implied it.

"I think a Guardian and a Swordsman can handle this, however, without much difficulty, hmmm?" Mivryna asked, raising one eyebrow at the two in front of her.

Both nodded their agreement, but the full weight of it did not sink in to Modryn. Acado discreetly nudged him with his foot, trying to get him to pay attention, but the young Dunmer's mind was elsewhere.

"I think that our _swordsman_ is already halfway to Hillswatch." Acado said.

Modryn jerked, his red eyes widening slightly.

Mivryna hid a quick smile, "Oh just go. This mission doesn't need any more delays." But as both males headed out the door she called, "As if I need to remind a swordsman and a guardian that!"

Modryn stopped and whipped his head around, his eyes wide, but a second later he was shoved through the door.

"Honestly do you have to give that woman any more signs that we never pay attention to her? You were nodding your head like a drunken Orc…" Acado continued to chunter to himself as he herded Modryn towards the city gates.

XxXxXx

The Breton woman, back in her disguise as a Dunmer, watched the pair carefully as they left Cheydinhal and started off down the road. She smiled to herself as she noted the ease at which they went along. The ruse had gone off without a hitch! They would get to the village of Hillswatch with no problem and finish off the supposed goblin hoard…but they would never collect their payment.

She waited until they were further down the road before teleporting herself were she was to wait for the rest of her plan to unfold.

XxXxXx

Hillswatch was a small, completely insignificant cluster of houses in the middle of the woods. The village's inhabitants were pretty peaceful bunch, mostly farmers and the occasional hunter, but, as they told Acado and Modryn, they couldn't possibly hope to defeat the creatures that attacked their village.

As they chattered on, Modryn took a quick look around the village. Evidence of the attacks were evident everywhere; broken windows, damage to the wooden sides of the houses, torn up gardens and general destruction everywhere. However, one thing captured his attention.

Leaving Acado to deal with the people, Modryn moved closer to one of the houses and inspected the scratch marks more closely. Something seemed off to Modryn. For one thing, most goblins, especially those of more powerful tribes, carried weapons of some sort, but these marks were made by claws, not a sword or an axe. Another thing was that goblins were short creatures. They came only about waist height to Modryn. The scratch marks were roughly level to his chest. No goblin made these marks. A quick inspection of the rest of the village all had the same thing. No goblin had ever set foot inside this village.

Modryn was confused now. What creature had done this? He didn't recognize the marks as any creature he knew, at least none that were native to Cyrodiil, but he didn't know all of Cyrodiil's creatures yet. But above all, why had the villagers lied to them?

As Modryn made his way back to Acado, he noticed something else; next to the broken windows and door frames were burn marks…no, not burn marks, but marks that a spell had struck the houses. A creature with magic powers maybe? Modryn also saw some bear tracks in the trampled gardens. He didn't fully take note of those, however. Bears couldn't cast spells. It was likely a separate incident altogether.

Acado had been watching his young friend out of the corner of his eye and had noticed the look on his face. He, too, had been feeling that something had been off since they had arrived and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Modryn return, a scowl blackening his face.

Acado turned back to the villagers. "You said that there were goblins…?" Most of the villagers looked at each other in sudden confusion, while those who were obviously in charge looked at the ground, shuffling their feet sheepishly. Acado's good mood, however, had vanished. The look on his face made several people back up suddenly. He went straight up to one of the men who were shuffling their feet and shoved him up against a house roughly.

"What are you playing at?" He growled, suddenly lifting the man off his feet by his shirt, even though he was much bigger than the deceptively small Bosmer, "Those aren't goblins out there, are they?"

The man shook his head frantically.

"So then what are you playing at? When you told us goblins, we could have sent some brand new recruit, thinking that a couple of smelly goblins would be an easy job for him. What are you playing at?!?" he barked out even louder, making the crowd back up another step, "You could have got someone killed! For what? What are you playing at?!?" He let the man go, watching him slid down the wall and land in the dirt with a hard bump. Acado whirled around to face the rest of the crowd, who backed up yet another step.

"Well?" He snapped, "I have half a mind to simply turn around and leave all of you to your fates, to whatever it is stalking this miserable mud hole. Come now, my patience is wearing extremely thin."

"Please sir, don't leave us!" One young girl yelled from the crowd. She ran forward, slipping past the protective arm of a man who was obviously her father, "Please…we didn't know if the guild would go after these monsters, so we said they were goblins. That's why we said that it was a bog strong tribe of goblins…so that you would send stronger men to do the job. Please…" She landed in a heap at Acado's feet, her face stained with tears, "Please don't leave us!"

"Get up girl." Acado said gently, his voice losing its hard edge, "I'm not as heartless as that. However," His eyes flashed momentarily, "I do not appreciate being lied to. We take on all jobs, great or small." He pulled the young girl to her feet and gave her a gentle push towards her parents. He motioned with his hand to the rest of the crowd, "Off with you. Give me a few minutes to talk with my partner and I will come back to you." The crowd jumped to do as he asked, clearing off within a matter of seconds.

Modryn stared at his friend, his jaw slack. He had seen Acado annoyed but never did he even imagine this side to Acado. He was so shocked that it took him a moment to recover his wits and walk over to the Bosmer, who was waiting patiently for him.

"What did you find? It's obvious that they aren't going to tell us what's out there and I'm not one for jumping head-first into a situation blindly." He said calmly, like the scene earlier hadn't even happened, though Modryn could tell he was still angry by muscles jumping in his jaw when he wasn't talking.

"Claws marks made not by goblins or by weapons, around chest height, some signs of magic around the doors and windows." Modryn rattled off quickly, "Also, I don't know if this pertains to this or not, but I found some bear tracks in the gardens. I have no idea what it could be…nothing found here at least."

Acado glanced up sharply, "Bear tracks?" Modryn nodded. "Damn. This is worse than I thought. Well, we have two choices now; we both go on and finish our job or we can go back to Cheydinhal and come back with a few more men."

"I don't even know what we are up against." Modryn said, a little more forcedly this time, getting annoyed himself, "Though I'm for finishing the job. Whatever it is could come back and finish off the whole village while we're gone."

Acado nodded his agreement, though he still didn't look happy, "Alright fine, we'll go in, though I don't think Mivryna will be happy when we tell her that we took on a bunch of Spriggans by ourselves."

XxXxXx TBC…

A/N: damn Spriggans give me more trouble than the stupid dreugh do.

-Vanillathunder215


	10. More Fire and Another Headache

"What exactly are Spriggans?" Modryn asked as he and Acado trudged through the woods.

"Walking trees that look vaguely like a woman. No, don't take this lightly!" Acado said sharply, seeing Modryn's unimpressed look, "You saw those marks. Besides a nasty set of nails, those walking trees can throw a pretty nasty spell. They also can summon a black bear to come aid them in battle. I don't know if you've seen a bear before but those things hit harder than you will ever be able to block. One Spriggan is a pain…several are simply dangerous."

Modryn fell silent, digesting Acado's words. However, he wasn't too particularly worried. He was feeling confident, not anxious and worried like he had before going into the Ayleid ruins, and he felt that, between him and Acado, they could take on anything.

Acado glanced over at his young friend, wondering if he had caught on to the seriousness of this situation. He felt his heart fall when he saw that Modryn hadn't, that he, in fact, looked rather excited at this new adventure. He had tried not to let his anxiety show, tried to keep himself calm and confident, but he was fast losing that battle. Something just didn't feel right to the wood elf…something was sending off warning bells in his mind, but he just couldn't place it. He couldn't stop now; he had already committed to his decision. He would sorely regret doing so later.

XxXxXx

The Breton woman nearly danced in glee when she saw the two elves make their way through the woods. Her plan would work! She noticed one of them, the Bosmer, Acado, was lagging a little behind, almost as if he were hesitant about this whole thing, unlike his Dunmer companion, who plowed on with obvious eagerness. When they got a little closer, she could see the lines of worry etched onto his face, confirming her suspicions. A wicked smile spread across her face when she saw that; she wanted him to feel nervous.

They passed by her and continued on their way, quickly disappearing from sight in the dense trees. It always amazed her how they never noticed that they were being watched. Never in the whole time since she had started to watch them…

The Breton woman didn't follow them, though she wanted to. She had to wait a few moments…

A rustle in the foliage behind her made her spin around, a dagger suddenly in her hand. She relaxed however, when the intruder came into view, though her dagger remained in her hand.

The young girl from the village stepped up to the older woman, her face much harder and colder than the teary scared one she had presented to Acado in the village.

"They almost didn't go." She said as a way of a greeting, "The one in charge, the wood elf. He wanted to go back and get more people."

The Breton woman raised an eyebrow and glanced towards where the two elves had just disappeared just a few moments ago before casting a look at the young girl.

"Ha! You know those Fighters Guild boys…all iron and no steel." She replied with a smug smile, "All I did was play the poor panicked village girl and he crumbled like a week old sweet roll. Now all you have to do is not screw it all up."

The Breton woman sneered at her. She had wanted to do this project all by herself, but the master had wanted to ensure that it went through without any complications. While she understood the master's caution given all that depended on the outcome of this mission, she still didn't like having to work with this bratty girl.

"What does the master want with these two anyway?" The young girl wondered out loud.

"That's none of our business." The Breton woman snarled, "When we bring them back we'll know. It's not our place to ask questions. Just get everything ready. We'll have them in an hour at the latest."

XxXxXx

Modryn belly-crawled up a small ridge and carefully peered over the edge to the clearing below, careful to keep out of sight. In the middle of the clearing there was an old oak tree much like the one in Chorrol, except this tree, instead of being surrounded by people, was surrounded by Spriggans. Modryn frowned as he took in the scene. They really did look like walking trees, but more like a tall sapling than a tree, but he kept himself from being too skeptical as he looked at their claws; nearly half a foot of wickedly pointed wood. He also reminded himself that these things could cast spells and summon a bear, whatever that was. He took a deep breath and focused on his task at hand, taking a quick head count of the creatures; 8. He took one last look at his opponents and then belly-crawled back down the ridge to where Acado was waiting.

"We'll have our hands full with that many of things crawling around." Acado whispered after Modryn had reported what he had seen, "We'll need the element of surprise if we want to win this with _minimal injuries_."

Modryn frowned. Acado's emphasis on those last words had been totally unnecessary. But he didn't press the issue…there would be time later to pick up that argument.

"Here's what we're going to do." Acado continued on, "We need to get rid of as many of those walking twigs as possible before we go charging in. I know you know how to cast a fireball. How strong is it?"

"I'm not a battle mage, if that's what you're asking," Modryn said, "but they are made out of _wood_, Acado. I could throw a candle at them and still cause a good amount of damage."

"Right then," Acado said, smiling, "I want you to just keep throwing fireballs at one until it falls or until you get another Spriggan or a bear in your face, then start tearing chunks out of them. But not until then, ok?" Modryn nodded. "Alright, I'm going to be on the left side of that ridge, you go down and sneak around to the right. Hopefully, we'll meet in the middle. Go to it."

The two elves split up and moved stealthily to their positions. Acado chose a spot on the ridge with a good view of the entire clearing. He wanted to keep an eye on his companion when the fighting started; more to make sure he didn't accidentally hit him with his own arrows than anything. He slid his bow out and ran his fingers up and down the taunt string, feeling a slight heat from the magic in it. Satisfied that it was tight and ready to go, he pulled out an arrow and knocked it but did not bend the bow. He waited a few more moments, giving Modryn plenty of time to get into position. He could feel the heat rising in his magical bow, getting stronger every second that passed, as if it was eager for the impending fight. In actuality the heat was intensifying with his own mounting anticipation. Finally Acado, feeling enough time had passed, raised his bow and bent it, sighting the closest Spriggan and let fly.

XxXxXx

Modryn picked his way carefully to the bottom of the ridge, staying close to the slope where there were less leaves to crunch underfoot. He got the end of the ridge and carefully peered around it, almost startling himself when he realized how close he was to the Spriggans; there was one not ten feet from where he was. His frown was quickly replaced with a grin. That would just make it more fun to watch the Spriggan run around as it suddenly found itself on fire. He quickly checked his mace, making sure it was loose in his belt just in case he needed it earlier than he anticipated, and then raised his hands, concentrating on the spark of magicka within him. He carefully started to form the fireball but then held it. His hands started to feel warm, but not overly so. He waited for Acado to start, the fireball literally at his fingertips. He really wished Acado would hurry as his hands started to feel uncomfortably hot.

Suddenly a fiery streak flew from across the clearing and landed with a loud _Thock_ onto one of the Spriggans. It shrieked as the arrow, shot from the enchanted bow, sunk up to the fletching and burst into flames. It was immediately followed by others, each finding their marks. Modryn, slightly relived to be getting rid of the now burning fireball, quickly threw his fireball at his target, watching in delight as it burst into flames. He didn't hesitate long before throwing another.

XxXxXx

The effect of the surprise attack was immediate. Spriggans ran around in confusion, trying to keep away from their burning companions while trying to find the source of the flames. They shrieked and growled in their rough tongues but it didn't do them any good. The flames just kept coming.

XxXxXx

Modryn threw yet another fireball and discovered, to his utter annoyance, that the fireballs didn't even faze the Spriggan one bit. While the flames were certainly hurting it, the impact of the spells weren't. Unfortunately for Modryn, his spells were just serving to annoy the Spriggan further. Then it turned to face him, those wicked looking claws glowing.

"Oh no you don't!" Modryn growled, throwing fireball after fireball at it, trying to channel his anger into his spells to make them stronger. But before he could, he heard a roar. He had absolutely no time to react or reach for his mace as the bear charged at him.

XxXxXx

Acado saw the bear appear and start to charge Modryn from his spot on the ridge. He whipped his hand back, reaching for another arrow but he knew he wouldn't be in time; the bear was already far too close and he risked hitting his friend in the process. He hoped that Modryn could react in time. Mivryna wouldn't be too happy if he brought Modryn back in several pieces.

XxXxXx

Modryn found himself looking down the open maw filled with far too many teeth and instinctively held up his hands to protect his face, almost inadvertently shooting off a fireball straight down the creature's throat. The bear roared, or tried to anyway, and broke away.

With the bear ultimately distracted, Modryn pulled out his mace and caved in the bear's skull, marveling at how hard it was. It rivaled that of some Kagouti he had known back in Morrowind.

The bear, after having its head crushed, evaporated abruptly, leaving no trace of its existence behind. The singed Spriggan, seeing its summoned bear disappear, shrieked again and charged the dark elf itself, its long claws reaching for him.

A wild adrenaline-charged cry that rivaled that of the Spriggan's shriek escaped Modryn's mouth as he leaped to meet the creature head-on, his mace knocking its claws out of the way and throwing his weight against the creature. The force of his momentum knocked the Spriggan backward into a boulder lying near the ridge. It was then that Modryn, his arm dragging across the wooden skin of the Spriggan, discovered that Spriggans have skin like an old piece of wood. Only the adrenaline pumping through his system kept him from feeling the splinters that lodged themselves underneath his skin.

The Spriggan, though dazed by the crash, was already starting to regain its footing and was hissing at Modryn. He returned the hiss, though it came in the form of his mace hissing through the air rather than in words. Soon, the Spriggan was nothing more than a pile of kindling. One down, seven more to go, Modryn thought, or make that four more to go, he corrected himself, turning around. Acado's deadly marksman skill and fiery bow had wreaked havoc on the Spriggans, cutting down three of them fairly quickly. Modryn grinned and, not wanting to be outdone by the archer, plunged in the midst of the Spriggans, planning on evening out the score.

He would get his chance easily enough; the remaining Spriggans had summoned their bears, thus returning their numbers back to eight again. Up on the ridge, Acado quickly saw the problem in this; the Spriggans weren't stupid. They would end up going after the dark elf on the ground, the bears too, quickly over-whelming him. Acado needed to distract them, but he was starting to run out of arrows…

He growled and reached for another arrow. He would continue his sniper duty until he ran out of arrows, and then he would join Modryn down in the clearing. Besides, he needed to get his numbers up while he could; Modryn was fast catching up to him and he wasn't as good with melee attacking as his companion was. He really didn't want to give Modryn bragging rights for the next month or so.

He raised his bow again and was about to let it fly when he suddenly heard something behind him. He spun around quickly, only to get spun back around as a bear swatted his shoulder. The blow knocked him off balance and he started to fall off the ridge when the bear hit him again, making him cry out involuntarily, knocking him to the side. The much smaller Bosmer landed hard, forcing the air from his lungs and sending his bow skittering off into the brush. He looked up to see the bear reared up in front of him, mouth open in a loud roar. Then it dropped and came towards him, saliva dripping from its mouth, its teeth bared. He tried to reach for the short sword at his belt but pain lanced through his arm, making it impossible for him to move it, let alone wield it. The bear came on and opened its mouth.

Just then a ghost appeared in front of him and blasted the bear in the eyes with a powerful frost spell, giving Acado the time he needed to gulp in a lung-full of air and roll out the way, drawing his sword with his left hand this time. He still had a Spriggan to face, though how it managed to sneak away from the battlefield and around behind him he didn't know. He crouched in a defensive position and let the Spriggan come to him.

XxXxXx

Modryn grunted with pain as Spriggan claws found a way past his armor and sliced the skin beneath it. It wasn't very deep, but Modryn despised the feel of blood running down his skin. This only served to irritate him and forced himself against the Spriggans harder. He crashed his mace against the offending Spriggan, enjoying the crunching vibrations sent up his wrist by the impact as it slammed through the Spriggans body, dropping it. At the same time, another bear vanished. For a brief moment, he wondered if that would count as one or as two. He shook his head and turned his attention back on the remaining two Spriggans.

Two!? Modryn leaped back and did a double-take. Sure enough, there were only two Spriggans and two bears coming at him, with one pile of splintered wood behind them. He chanced a look around while knocking away sharp claws. He wasn't afraid for himself; he had a boulder against his back to prevent any of them from surrounding him, but he was more worried that the missing creature would somehow slip around behind Acado on the ridge. Modryn had seen his friend in close combat and, while he wasn't bad at it, he was defiantly a much better archer. But then, Acado could see the whole clearing from his vantage point. He would have seen the Spriggan leave…

Suddenly, his sensitive ears picked up a cry that was not bear or Spriggan, but elven. He glanced up at the ridge and saw a bear rearing up. He couldn't see anything else, but he knew that his fear had come true. Thinking quickly, he called upon his ancestral guardian.

"Up there!" He screamed at it, pointing up to the ridge, "There! Get the bear!"

He threw his attention back to his own opponents, trusting that his ghost would do what he had asked. Suddenly infuriated he crashed through the two Spriggans, destroying them before they even had a chance to move, the bears disappearing with them. Before one of the bears evaporated, however, it managed to get in past Modryn's defense and slapped him across the face with a rough heavy paw, breaking his jaw and leaving four jagged bleeding lines across his face.

Stunned, Modryn fell back against the rock he had been using to guard his back. He spat out a mouthful of blood around his swelling tongue that he had bitten when the bear had swatted him. For a moment, he just sat there, recovering from the blow and soaking in the sudden silence. Then he grinned, wincing slightly as he did so, and ran up the ridge to Acado.

XxXxXx

The young girl watched silently as the two mer, tired and battered from their fight, turned to leave. Undoubtedly they believed their job done and were heading to the village to tell the people there that the Spriggans were gone before heading home. Too bad for them that that wasn't going to happen.

She raised a small whistle to her lips and blew. A high shrill note pierced the forest, silencing all the birds within earshot instantly, but the girl couldn't even hear it, so high was the note that her brain couldn't register it. But Acado and Modryn did with their sensitive elven hearing. She watched in sadistic pleasure as both doubled over suddenly, hands over their ears. She then quickly switched to another whistle and blew three short notes, these audible to her this time. A few seconds later, a huge Minotaur came crashing through the trees, its horns nearly crashing into her hiding place in the tree, a heavy war hammer clutched in its huge hand.

She re-arranged herself on the limb, frowning a little, but her frown disappeared when she heard the roar of the Minotaur, drowning out two other shouts of surprise, and two soft thuds. She smiled then, knowing that she and her partner had been successful. Oh how their master would be so pleased!

XxXxXx

Author's note; Muwahahahahahahaha! Oops! I mean; read, love and review XD! (Especially the review part XD!)

-Vanillathunder215


	11. Ghosts of the Past

Acado slowly opened his eyes, but just as quickly shut them again. Even the dim light of the room was too much. His whole body, especially his head throbbed painfully. Carefully he slitted one eye, then the other, allowing them to adjust and at the same time taking in his surroundings. He was in a small cave, or maybe in an alcove or niche of a cave, leaning against the rough stone wall. His hands were tied but the iron bars that crossed the narrow entrance to his cubby were a far better detriment.

He keened his head back against the stone again, groaning softly, "I'm getting way too old for this." He murmured.

He closed his eyes again, wondering over his next move when, suddenly, he sat bolt upright, looking left and right anxiously. A thought had struck him just as he was pondering his predicament; where was Modryn? He got to his feet and stumbled over to the iron bars, almost falling against them, and looked out into the cavern below him. Then he saw him.

There were two women flanking a third dark shape standing in front of a huge fire and in front of them, kneeling on the floor, chained, bloody, dirty, naked save for his pants and very _very_ irate was Modryn. They obviously had had some trouble with him, Acado noticed with some satisfaction; the two women were scowling and had their weapons drawn, glaring at the dark elf. One had a fat lip and bloody nose while the other's eye was swollen and purpling beautifully. Acado could only guess that they had been too relaxed, too assured with their prisoner's hands tied up, to really keep a close eye on him. Modryn had probably dropped to his back, a little trick Mivryna had pulled on him one time, and had used his feet to pummel them like an angry mule. Judging by the slight smug look on the elf's face, Acado knew he wasn't too far off.

But Modryn had paid for his rebellion; blood flowed from numerous cuts on his body and his face, already heavily swollen from the previous fight with the Spriggans, was even more beat up, the four scratches from the bear's claws had reopened and were oozing blood. Heavy chains had replaced the ropes on his wrists and an iron collar with two chains wrapped around nearby rocks held him down on his knees. Yet despite the humiliating chains and collar, he kept a hard, steady glare on those in front of him.

"So what is this, exactly?" the dark figure in the middle was saying, his low smooth voice striking a chord of memory within Acado, "This is not the Dunmer I wanted!"

"Master we understand that!" One of the women said nervously, "But he's the one that came…we…we can use him for negotiating and the other one too…"

"The Bosmer you will not touch. He is mine to deal with as well as the other one I seek. This one though…" The dark figure moved closer to Modryn, whose dark look got, if possible, darker and snarled at him like a feral dog. "Defiant one aren't you?" the smooth voice said, lower and teasing this time, "And young. I didn't know the guild was so desperate that they would take in children." Modryn growled slightly at that. "Still, even young ones know how to fight…you certainly proved that when you fought off my acolytes here. Hmmm, a survivor, perhaps?"

Modryn growled again, his rage his only defense at this moment, but then something gave him away. Maybe it was a subtle change in his posture, a slight tilt of his head, perhaps, or a sudden flash in his eyes. Maybe one of his muscles twitched or he tensed just a bit more. Maybe he had breathed in a little too sharp or held his breath a little too long. Whatever it was, the dark person circling him saw it for what it was. Modryn's own body had betrayed him; revealing his discomfort, his nervousness.

The smooth voice was back, "Yes, yes…by the scar on your face, the small one on the bridge of your nose, I can tell you are Morrowind born. I wonder what brought you here." He continued to slowly stalk the Dunmer, making him even more agitated as he rounded behind him. Modryn had never felt so vulnerable before, especially with his bare back exposed so.

"Hmmm, what's this?" Modryn started when he suddenly felt a cold finger run across his back. Even though he couldn't see, he knew exactly what it was. A horizontal scar ran across his back, a remnant of his past. It had healed oddly, turning pale against his dark skin instead of fading as the others had done countless times. Just the feel of that finger running over that scar made him remember the sting from all those years ago so clearly it was as if the finger itself had just now drawn it across his back.

"Your own father perhaps?"

All this time Modryn had shown an amazing amount of restraint up until that point, but at the mention of his father, the key to his past, it snapped. With a strangled cry of rage he lunged. Only the chains around his neck prevented him from tearing apart that shape that was shrouded in shadows before him.

Up in the niche of the cavern, Acado watched in utter shock. He had never asked Modryn about his past…he had gotten the distinct feeling that the younger elf didn't want to speak of it. However, he had never imagined this!

Acado glanced around. Weaponless, bound and helpless, they had little to no chance of escaping this cave. But where there's a will…

Acado brought his legs up, pressing his knees into his chest as hard as he could. He took a deep breath, and then forced all the air from his lungs, pressing his knees to his chest even tighter. As he did so, he rocked forward just enough to allow his hands to slide underneath him and rocked back, picking his feet up and slipped his hands over them. He relaxed then, pulling air into his empty lungs and popping his shoulders back into place, before inspecting his bonds. It was a simple knot…no challenge for a Bosmer who had spent years honing his fighting skills alongside his art of thievery. He re-looped the rope back into two loose loops so he could easily slip them on and off without being noticed.

"One problem down…" He muttered, wincing slightly as he heard yet another scream of rage.

But something else had caught his ear. Acado looked up and nearly broke into a smile as he saw the bat stretching its wings, rudely awakened from its daytime slumber.

XxXxXx

Mivryna closed the door to the guild behind her and set off down the darkening streets, enjoying the cool evening. This was her favorite time of day- the world was beginning to relax into night, letting go of the stresses of the day. She wasn't heading anywhere in particular, but she knew her feet would eventually lead her out of the city and into the woods beyond.

But she never got that chance. Behind her, someone down the street screamed, causing the female Dunmer to jump. A second scream sent her running towards the source, her sword drawn before she even realized her hand was moving towards it. As she neared she could see a couple of women holding on to each other, one was sobbing, her hair a mess, into the shoulder of another, who tried to soothe her. Mivryna was confused for a brief moment; if there was danger about, then why weren't people getting out of the way? Then she saw it. With a small snort of disgust, she put her sword away.

"A bat." She muttered to herself in contempt, "All this fuss over a bloody bat!"

The small brown bat was fluttering over the street, squeaking and flapping madly. Mivryna knew it wasn't dangerous by any stretch of the imagination, but she couldn't figure out why it was here and not out in the woods eating insects, or why it was awake so early in the evening.

"You silly thing." She said to it, "What are you doing here?"

She reached up and tried to catch, intending to release out into the woods, preferably far away from the walls so it wouldn't find its way back to cause more mischief. To her ultimate surprise, the bat turned and landed on her shoulder, latching onto her shirt with its deceptively delicate claws and sitting very still. Suddenly it became clear.

"Acado, you fetcher," Mivryna groaned, "couldn't you have found a better messenger?"

She gently scooped the bat up and sure enough, there was a small scrap of cloth tied to its leg. As soon as she had tugged it off the bat took off, making a bee-line out of the city and was soon gone from sight.

"You can stop crying now, it's gone." She said to the woman who had broken out into fresh tears when the bat had taken off.

"It w-was at-t-tacking me!" She stuttered.

"The only bat you need to be wary of is a vampire. That bat wanted nothing to do with you…it was looking for me."

Mivryna walked away then, trying to hide her smile. Acado was always sending her notes like this with all kinds of creatures that he "asked" to deliver for him. Birds, bats, dogs and horses were the usual messengers but occasionally a wild cat or wolf or bear (fortunately he only did that once) would wander in with a scroll tied around its neck. Once he had even used an imp.

But always he kept the animal in mind. He always used scrolls as they were so light even the smallest of his messengers wouldn't notice their burden and always tied it on so that it wouldn't hit them or entangle them in anyway as they went along. The scrap of cloth tied to the bat like it was, was completely out of character for Acado. Mivryna felt the first pangs of trepidation as she unfolded the cloth.

_Ryna-_

_Dead job _

_Cave nor'west Kvatch maybe_

_Bring HELP_

_-A_

XxXxXx

The door to the tavern burst open, causing every patron in the place to nearly fall out of their chairs (or, in the cases of those already deep into their drinks, completely out of their chair). It went silent instantly until they saw who it was…then all but the fighters in the back corner went back to their conversations.

"Let's go, all of you!" Mivryna barked, "We have a job to do. All other jobs are on hold for now. MOVE IT!!"

None of them argued with the volatile guild master. They knew that only a serious situation would get her to put everything else on hold and round up all the guild members for one job. An orc, the most experienced of the group, noticed something flutter to the ground as Mivryna stormed out of the bar. He bent and picked it up, looking it over. It was a dirty scrap of cloth with a badly smudged note written on it. His eyes widened as he caught of whiff of the ink. He knew the smell of blood very well.

XxXxXx

A/N; Sorry I haven't updated in forever…I had about three chapters I was going to put up when a black hole suddenly appeared inside my computer and ate all three saved files. But, good news for a change, I did come to a decision on where this story as a whole is heading…won't blow the secret yet but it is making me write much much faster!!

-Vanillathunder215


	12. Bad Blood

Acado was trying to think how he could get both him and Modryn out of their dilemma, which was difficult given how both he and

02/07/2008 22:38:00

"Go get the Bosmer and tie him up with his Dunmer friend here. They can keep each other company while we wait."

Acado looked up when he heard those words, "Oh this cannot be good." He murmured to himself. Before he could really do anything about it, he found himself being roughly hauled down from his lofty cell and thrown against the stone floor.

"Now I _know_ I'm getting too old for this." He mumbled against the cold stone.

He felt chains being fastened to his wrists, which were re-tied together behind his back, and the other ends attached to two boulders behind him.

As he was being secured, he took his time to re-evaluate the situation. The two women were looking even more tired and ragged after having to use a lot of magicka to subdue Modryn. Unless they rested for a few hours or had some potions, they didn't look as if they were going to be casting spells anytime soon. Or accurately, if the Breton woman's swollen eye was any indication. Careful to keep his face neutral, Acado glanced over to the younger mer.

He quickly dismissed any ideas of getting free as soon as he saw Modryn. The Dunmer was barely conscious after being subjected to powerful jolts of magic to "calm him down". His earlier wounds had re-opened after his enraged struggles and were sluggishly bleeding, the blood mingling with that of his new injuries. Looking at him, Acado suddenly realized that, with Modryn so badly injured and with his own injuries, coupled with the fact that they were unarmed, their only hope of getting out of this lay with Mivryna.

XxXxXx

Never had Mivryna gotten to Kvatch so fast before in her life. Not even a day had passed when she and her fighters found themselves at the base of the long twisting path uphill to the city. However, their goal was not the city itself, but a small village called Hillswatch, west of the city.

"Let's go, it's not that far from here, if I remember correctly." Mivryna called to her fighters who, despite the long hard run, didn't seem the least bit tired.

It took them only another hour to reach the village in the middle of the woods. Immediately, they all noticed how the tense the villagers seemed…how they seemed to be expecting them, dreading this moment.

"Who asked for Fighters Guild two weeks ago?" Mivryna asked, her voice ringing out clearly.

For a long moment everything was still and silent but then, as Mivryna's red eyes began to glow in slow-burning anger, a nervous looking man stepped forward, holding up his hand as if to placate the angry Dunmer. Mivryna wasn't interested in hearing it, however. She only wanted to know what had happened and where her fighters were. Seeing her growing rage and the general restlessness of the others behind her the man broke down immediately.

"Please, ma'am!" He said, "We truly did not want to do it, but we had no choice! He would have killed us all!"

"Who?" Mivryna demanded, "Who would have killed and what do you mean, you didn't want to?"

"The Nord necromancer. He told us to get the Fighters Guild out here, to lure them out with a story of a goblin hoard. If we didn't do as he said, he would kill us all and use us as undead hosts!"

"But how…?"

"We wanted to warn your fighters, we really did, but he had one of his men…well, a woman, actually, and she was the one to direct them out into the supposed goblin hoard, which were actually the group of Spriggans we have out in the grove."

"Did they come back this way?"

"No. They were either taken or killed by the Spriggans."

"A bunch of Spriggans would be very hard pressed to overwhelm the two that I sent." Mivryna murmured, "This Nord necromancer you mentioned…did he happen to say his name?"

"Yes, yes in fact he did." The man said, looking a little bewildered as he told her.

When Mivryna heard the name, her eyes widened in shock and little bit of fear. Things had just gone from bad to worse very quickly.

"Where's this grove?" she whispered.

"No more than an hour that way. We can provide a guide to take…"

Mivryna and her fighters were gone long before he got a chance to finish his sentence, charging off in search of their missing comrades.

XxXxXx

Acado was trying to think how he could buy Mivryna some time to get here before the necromancer and his cronies got bored and decided to just simply kill them right there and now. Especially since the two women were staring at them like they were helpless deer waiting for the dogs to rip them apart. But, as hard as he might try, Acado couldn't really think up of anything that wouldn't land them in big trouble.

"Who is he?" a cracking voice asked, jerking the Bosmer out of his thoughts.

He looked over to the bloody Dunmer, who was watching him intently. For a long moment he didn't say anything, confused as to whom Modryn was talking about. Finally, after Modryn gave him a slightly exasperated look, he understood.

"It was a job we had, me and Mivryna, about 50 years back…"

"_You're kidding right?" Acado asked looking up from the arrow he was fletching._

"_No, unfortunately." Mivryna said, "It's just as it says."_

"_Of all the…that bloody…Ah!" the Bosmer sputtered._

_Mivryna nodded in agreement. Though calm on the outside, she was simmering on the inside. This contract, given by the count of Cheydinhal himself, was extremely dangerous at best and suicidal at worst. Necromancers, even the amateurs, were dangerous on a good day but one was that insane as well as homicidal, not to mention a very accomplished necromancer, was more than just a little dangerous. Though she was a Dunmer, Mivryna didn't have to, nor did she, like the count. In fact, she had gone as far as cursing him in every language she could think of as soon as she turned away in the audience hall...within earshot of all present in the hall. _

"_Seeing as we aren't about to get out of this one, when are we leaving and where has this maniac set up camp?" Acado asked, slamming his knife down into the table in disgust._

"_Don't get too eager just yet." Mivryna said, "I'm getting a large group together for this, as well as any mages that are willing to go from the Mages Guild. We need all the help we can get. I'm expecting a huge host of undead as well as a few apprentices, maybe, and let's not forget Rakoslod himself."_

_Acado nodded moodily. This whole thing had a bad feel to it. No matter how many warriors and mages they managed to get, someone was going to get hurt before it was over. He just had to hope that no one got killed._

_A few days later they finally were on their way to "take care" of the necromancer that had set up shop in an old fort some ways northwest of Cheydinhal. Acado was nervous; they had not gotten as many fighters or mages as they had hoped and their numbers barely topped 18, with 10 fighters and 8 mages. He was even more nervous when they reached the fort. The whole area around it was open- not a single tree or respectable rock lay between them and the tall, slightly dilapidated spires. _

"_Miv, something tells me that, no matter how sneaky or how quietly we go in there, Rakoslod already knows we're here." Acado whispered to the Dunmer woman. _

"_Well then, here are options." She said, turning to the Bosmer, "We can wait out here until he dies of old age, which could take centuries as necromancers can keep themselves alive longer than both of our life spans put together, or we can be good little fighters and go in there and bury him quick so we can get paid and go home!"_

_Acado shrugged, knowing she was right._

_Secrecy was all but blown when they trooped across the field so they simply walked up to the front door and, to their not-so-complete surprise, found it unlocked._

"_I can either say 'I told you so' or hope that maybe the fetcher did us all a favor and keeled over and died." Acado said, knocking an arrow to his bow, "Though I'm probably going to have to be satisfied with 'I told you so'."_

_Around him, swords, axes and hammers were being drawn; spells were being readied and bows being drawn back. It was now or never. The door crashed in and all hell broke loose._

_Acado and the rest of the archers loosed a volley of arrows into the wave of zombies that immediately accosted them just inside the doorway, effectively decimating them, but arrows were useless against the skeletons that followed close on their heels. Up front, Mivryna swung her sword, taking off the skeleton's head, but had to quickly dodge as, instead of collapsing, the undead thing continued to swing its axe blindly._

"_Oh, die already!" she screamed, her sword catching it in the middle, severing the spine and shattering it. "Well…I suppose it's 'die again' instead of 'already'."_

_Glancing around, she could see that the battle was well under control, her fighters more than a match for the undead and the mages adding a big help with their relentless spells. She looked across the room to where a door stood ajar, she could see that there was someone standing just behind I, their feet barely visible._

"_Acado! Back up the crack!" she shouted, using the code for shooting to the back of a room where there always seemed to be an open door with someone standing behind it. _

_The archer lined up the seemingly impossible shot and fired. While he couldn't really see if his aim was true or not, Mivryna could; she watched in silent pride as Acado's arrow zipped through the small opening and a split second later a pair of feet kicked out into view, hit the ground and after a few twitches, was still. _

"_Fighters! To me!" Mivryna shouted as the last of the undead were taken care of. They had sustained only minor wounds, nothing that would stop them from fighting. "Ok, let's go! There are four levels to this place by our estimation, with Rakoslod at the top, so we got only two more floors to clear!"_

_The each level proved even more challenging than the last, with more undead and more accomplished necromancers summoning all sorts of unpleasant creatures along with nasty spells. They fought like machines; not feeling any weariness, not feeling pain, feeling almost nothing at all, just slashing and chopping their way through to the next door. _

_The third level was the worst. The fighters (and mages) were beginning to falter due to weariness. Soon, people were going to start dying. Mivryna knew that, to kill a snake, she had to cut off its head, so she called Acado to her and they ran through the final door, bounded up the stairs and burst into the room without preamble._

_Like any good coward (though both mer considered all necromancers cowards) Rakoslod immediately summoned others to fight for him in the form of a dozen undead. Mivryna leaped in front of Acado, protecting him so he could keep shooting his deadly bow, and began to systematically pick off undead. No fancy maneuvers, just slashing. _

_Suddenly, Acado aimed just a little bit higher and fired, immediately shooting off another arrow just after the first. At first Mivryna had no idea what he was doing, but then, when a break came in the thinning ranks of undead, she saw that Acado had brilliantly pinned the necromancer to the wall by his robes. _

_Feeling a surge of adrenalin, she burst through the last of the undead and charged in towards the Nord. Bringing her sword behind her, she began to swing, throwing every last bit of energy and strength into it. _

_With Acado's arrows pinning him to the wall and Mivryna's sword starting its flight to his head, Rakoslod did the only thing he could do; he began to enact the spell to transport him out of there. He disappeared just as Mivryna's sword made contact, making blood spray over the empty wall where he had been an instant before. _

_Mivryna screamed in ultimate frustration, which Acado felt like joining in. They had lost 5 good men…only to lose the necromancer. But Mivryna had injured him, how badly was anyone's guess. And while he had fled, none of them believed that he would show himself again for a very long time, if ever._

_What they had not known was that they had injured him far more than they had thought; his throat had been badly injured and for months he was kept barely alive on his dark art alone. His voice, so prized by Nords, was destroyed, reduced to a grating whisper. During those months he began to nurse a deep hatred for the two mer which, over the years, turned into an obsession._

_XxXxXx_

Modryn looked over to the dark alcove where the necromancer had taken refuge as Acado ended the story, quite surprised to learn that he was actually a Nord. He wouldn't have every guessed that; Nords set more pride in fighting than in magic and there certainly weren't very many Nord necromancers. However, ancient Nord culture prided their voices being able to cast spells, a pride that lived on to this day, so Modryn could see why this necromancer would nurse a deep hatred over the loss of his voice. Still, not a single iota of sympathy entered his heart. Modryn wasn't overly fond of Nords to begin with, as most Dunmer were wont to feel, and he hated necromancers with a passion. He just could simply see why the bad blood existed between them was all.

"Damn." He said, "Mivryna better hurry up."

XxXxXx

Mivryna, meanwhile, had finally gotten to the grove of Spriggans. More correctly, where the Spriggans _had_ been. She smiled in grim satisfaction as she took in the carnage before her; Spriggans lay in scorched splinters all over the grove with tell-tale chunks missing and arrows still sunk up to the fletching in the wooden flesh. It seemed her boasting earlier had not been just hot air. Then, a sudden gleam in the brush caught her eye. It also caught the eye of Two-Tails, who reached in and pulled out a short sword.

"Acado's. Modryn favors blunt weapons. But Acado would never leave a weapon behind voluntarily." Mivryna said. "Look around. Something more than just a bunch of Spriggans was here."

"Master, over here!"

Mivryna spun around and rushed over to where a bunch of her fighters were clustered around the imprint of a huge cloven hoof print. Only one creature in the world made that sort of print, but how it fit in to the missing mer none of them knew. Still, any clue was better than none so they followed the trail down another path that ran parallel to the one they had taken to the grove. They hadn't gone very far when they found more clues; blood, completely dried, and…

"This has to be Modryn's." Mivryna held up the mace, "Yeah, it is. See the splinters from the Spriggans on it?"

"Wait, let me get this straight." A male Imperial said, "Acado and Modryn come out here, thinking they are on a normal job, but know as soon as they get here that they were being duped but they go out and do it anyway. Then, after they kill all the Spriggans, they get attacked by a single Minotaur and, what, killed? By one minotaur?"

"I see your point." Mivryna said, "But I don't think they were killed. Minotaurs may be smart, but they aren't that smart. When they catch you they kill you where you stand. There's not enough blood here to suggest that either one of them was killed. Injured, yes, but not killed. I'm thinking that that Minotaur was someone's pet or it was summoned and someone has kidnapped Acado and Modryn."

XxXxXx

A/N; sorry this took so long, but it's amazing that a single storm (more correctly, a single lightning bolt) can wreak so much havoc on one computer. Totally zapped that bloody thing (yes I had a surge protector on but the bolt hit like right next to my house…it was REALLY loud .) so, with a fried computer, I couldn't really do much. Now, I got a new computer and I just had to get everything all straightened out with it before I could get some serious writing done. Whew!!

Anyway, I could have had this whole little adventure of Modryn and Acado's summed up in this chapter, but I decided to just make the next one a little bit longer…and start to let on to my "master plan" heeheehee!

-Vanillathunder215


	13. Two Hits

Both mer sensed trouble immediately when the two women, who had been conversing in low tones on the other side of the fire, stood suddenly, their hungry eyes on them. For the past hour and a half everything in the cave had been quiet. However, it wasn't a good quiet; it was the calm before the storm kind of quiet. The kind that made you afraid to make any sort of noise in case it invited trouble.

Now the storm was coming. Acado and Modryn both knew that they were rapidly running out of time to think of something or they were going to end up worse than dead.

"Hurry up, Acado." Modryn hissed, pulling at the chains, "Think up of something!"

"Me? Why does it always have to be me?" Acado whispered back in frustration, "Why don't you actually use that hard head of yours for once?"

Modryn opened his mouth to retort when suddenly he felt the collar around his neck slip. The iron collar had been extremely rusty after many years of use with little to no cleaning in between. The clasp, after stubbornly holding during all of Modryn's powerful struggles, finally snapped. It took Modryn a moment to realize that he was free of the collar, which was the only thing that prevented him from getting to his feet. Recovering quickly, he leaped up and threw himself backwards, making the rusty chains groan against the rocks, then leaned forward as far as he could go, making the chains groan even louder. The two women stood open-mouthed in astonishment and would have stood there for a good while longer when a roar of rage from the necromancer got them moving again. Modryn felt the air start to tingle with the sheer amount of magical energy of the two women and threw himself backwards desperately one last time. The chains groaned and grated in protest but the mer proved the stronger as, with one last grinding noise, the chains snapped off near his wrists. Somehow he managed to keep his balance, a feat in itself with his hands still bound behind him. His knees ached from kneeling for so long but he completely disregarded that as he ran out of the circle of light provided by the fire just as a bolt of lightning crashed to where he had been an instant before.

"Damn bloody dark elf!" The younger girl screamed, chasing off after him. Acado smiled to himself as he watched her go, feeling confident that Modryn could fully take care of himself now that he had use of his feet. That girl, even with her magic, would be very hard-pressed to hold a fight with him. Now, if only he could do something about _his_ current predicament.

"Seems your friend has abandoned you." The Breton woman said, "Looks like you're at my mercy now."

Wouldn't you like that? Acado thought, "Oblivion take you, stupid cow!" He spat out loud.

With a snarl of rage she loosed a bolt of lightning at him, as powerful as her partly regenerated magicka would allow her.

Up above the ring, safely hidden from his pursuer in a rock crevice, Modryn watched as the bolt of lightning sliced toward his Bosmer friend. His eyes widened in shock; there was no way Acado could avoid that or deflect it in any sort of way. Given the power of it, Modryn doubted that he would even survive such a blast. But a moment later, he had to pinch his lips together to keep from laughing out loud as his keen eyes picked out the lithe form of a small Bosmer slip behind the rocks and disappear from sight.

His plan had worked perfectly; Acado had deliberately goaded the Breton woman into striking at him. The black eye Modryn had given her earlier had swollen almost shut, hindering her aim and depth perception. Acado had seen that and had counted on that, though he knew that at such close proximity, she wouldn't hit short of him. However, he wanted her to hit him. He had just enough room to turn so that the lightning glanced off the manacles around his wrists. Ignoring the slight pain of electricity running through his arms from the metal, he had quickly slipped out of the destroyed metal and slipped away behind the cloud of dust that the bolt of lightning had created when it hit the ground. No one could see the devilish look of amusement on his face when the Breton woman, seeing empty air instead of a roasted corpse, screamed in fury. Finally they were on even playing grounds again.

However, they had both forgotten about the necromancer. Rakoslod, like any good coward, had been perfectly content to let his two acolytes take care of the escapees, but as more screams and cries of frustration filled the cave and still no sign of the two mer, he finally decided to step in. Purple light suddenly swirled around both women, a detection spell, and then several skeletons appeared at his call. The scales tipped back into the necromancers favor.

Modryn had seen that sort of spell before and knew that all advantage the dark had afforded him was gone. Not only could they see where he was now but he had more enemies to face. Not to mention his hands were still tightly bound behind his back. Good thing he still had one card left to play under his sleeve. A purple vortex appeared next to him and his ancestor guardian appeared; the only member of his family he had ever actually liked. It immediately understood the situation and went after the two skeletons that were clattering toward him, waving heavy iron claymores. But even with the extra help it still didn't really improve his situation any; the ghost could only engage one enemy at a time while he still had the necromancer underling and the other skeleton coming at him. He took a couple hesitant steps back, at a loss as to what to do in the face of this battle, something that hadn't happened in a very long time.

"Got you now, darky!" the girl yelled exuberantly.

That was the biggest mistake she could have made. As soon as the hated word slid from her mouth Modryn felt rage bubble within him. Heated blood rose in his face, making him see red. She had called him "darky" and she would live to regret that…if she was still alive after Modryn was done with her. With a scream of rage, he charged at her.

Acado, meanwhile, was enjoying a game of cat-and-mouse, despite the detection spell. The Breton woman still could not see very well on her right side and the blur of purple light she saw did nothing to help her as her depth perception was shot. The small mer would dart into crevices too small for her or the skeletons to follow or would stand still and let her charge at him with her dagger (her magicka spent) and watch in amusement as she tripped over the smaller rocks she couldn't see in the dark before leaping to a new spot to avoid the skeletons. Those skeletons were a nuisance to Acado, but not much of a threat as the small mer could easily duck inside the swings of their claymores or squeeze into crevices too small for the unthinking things to follow.

He was just getting ready to run to a new spot when he heard the other girl scream suddenly. At first he thought that Modryn had finally caught her and that she was at the end of her luck. He was partly right; Modryn had caught her, but she was screaming for a different reason.

"Boris!!" she screamed.

Modryn, lost in his rage, didn't really comprehend what she was screaming but a sudden movement in the corner of his eye made him suddenly jump back. A good thing too, as a huge hammer crashed down into the stone floor, sending chunks flying.

Modryn's rage melted into astonishment; how on earth did he miss that minotaur? The thing was huge, even for a minotaur, making it impossible to simply hide it behind a rock. Plus it smelled bad; like, well, like a cow, which didn't smell too good to begin with, but it was still a really strong stench, one that he should have noticed while tied down in the fire pit. However he had no time to ponder any of that; all his attention was now focused on avoiding both the skeleton and the even more deadly Minotaur.

"Kill him, Boris!" The girl yelled.

"Boris?" He mouthed silently, "What kind of a name is that?"

Modryn didn't have that much time to wonder about the stupid name. He looked up at the huge hammer being brought over the massive creature's head as it prepared to swing but as he started to run out of the way, he tripped over an uneven crack in the floor, wrenching his back badly as he landed. Even worse, the connecting chain between the manacles got caught on a shard of rock. No matter which way he twisted, he couldn't get free. He was stuck where he was, with a minotaur-driven hammer coming at him.

At the same time, over on the opposite side of the cavern, the game had just turned sour for the Bosmer. He found himself boxed in with a skeleton on both sides and the Breton woman coming straight at him. Rakoslod, having more interest in watching Acado die than actually getting his hands dirty, was above him, readying a spell that would prove highly amusing. Acado, with no way of deflecting the spell or running this time, had no choice but to take the hit. To his surprise, there was no pain, only a cold numbness that spread over his body, making it impossible to move. It was then he recognized the paralysis spell. The Breton woman readied her dagger.

"Make it slow now." Rakoslod instructed, "And remember the vital areas we talked about. He'll make a good slave once we put him back together again."

Acado felt sick. He heard the other woman, the girl who had tricked them back in Hillswatch, a lifetime ago it seemed, laugh insanely and he heard the bellow of a bull. He understood now that the Minotaur that had knocked them out was her pet. He knew that that meant Modryn was also in trouble. He felt bitter bile rise in the back of his throat; his own fate he could take, he knew he would die in a fight one day, but this kind of fate was hard to swallow, for both him and Modryn.

Just as he was thought it was all over, a silver arrow flew over his head and buried itself in the Breton woman's chest. She looked down at the protruding shaft for a moment, not quite sure what had just happened, and then looked up at the paralyzed Bosmer, confusion splayed over both their faces. Then she dropped dead, the dagger clattering to the ground.

At the same time, across the cave, Modryn had closed his eyes as he expected the hammer to slam into him. He heard the girl's insane laugh, the Minotaur roar and then the swish of what he believed to be the hammer racing down to end his life. But instead of being smashed flat, he heard the Minotaur roar again, but this time it sounded much weaker. Modryn cracked open one eye to see several arrows sticking out from the beast's chest and neck. It made a gurgling sound as the hammer slid from its grasp with a clank, a last attempt at a roar, and then fell down dead.

As both the Breton woman and Minotaur fell dead, a single cry split the air; a battle cry that both mer knew so very well. Then it seemed as if all of Oblivion had opened up inside the cave as Mivryna and her fighters charged in, making the whole cave shake with the intensity of their cries.

The noise was overwhelming to Modryn's shattered nerves. He was still stuck where he was, like a turtle on its back, so he couldn't see what was going on. But he could hear everything. He heard swords clanging against the bony bodies of the skeletons and the clatter of bones as they fell apart. He heard the moan of his ghost as it disappeared. He heard the girl screaming and the crackling of more spells but they apparently didn't find their targets, judging by the absence of grunts or cries of pain. Then she stopped screaming. 'Thank the gods' he thought, 'I can't stand that fetcher's screaming.'

Suddenly someone grabbed him by the arm and hauled him bodily to his feet, ripping the chain attaching the manacles. The sudden movement made his back flair with pain along with his shoulders and wrists as they were ripped from the chain. He didn't have to look to know who had gotten to him first, that iron grip that sent chills up and down his spine told him enough. Much to his surprise, he found that he wasn't scared…he was angry.

"Move and he becomes my next zombie."

The guild fighters that had moved in stopped and looked at each other incredulously. It was probably the dumbest threat any of them had ever heard given the fact that the weakened necromancer has holding on to the completely freed Dunmer only by his arm and by the fact that his red eyes were blazing in fury. They stepped back, holding up their hands in acquiescence. The empty threat did nothing to persuade them, but it did persuade Modryn that he had finally had more than enough. With a snarl he swung his other hand around in a curled fist; middle knuckles pushed out further than the others, and slammed it home in the necromancer's face, shattering half the bones in his face. He cocked his arm back and slugged him again with every last ounce of strength in his body. This time, he hit Rakoslod full in the nose. He shattered the bone and the force of the blow shoved the shards of bone back into his head, into his brain. He swayed for a moment, blood pouring from his broken face. Mivryna arrived just then and stood with the rest of the fighters, watching as, at last, the necromancer fell down dead.

The silence that followed was like that of the quiet the follows a severe thunderstorm, when everything takes a sigh of relief before looking to the damage. Mivryna felt as if a huge load had been taken off her shoulders. For fifty years she had mulled over this, wanting one more shot at Rakoslod. Now it was over after those few seconds it took to swing her sword. She felt the weight of it fall from her, but she felt no relief from it. Instead, she felt dread. She spun around…

…And came face-to-face with Acado, who had shaken off the last of the spell.

"I swear you need to work on your timing." He said straight-faced, "If you had gotten here half and hour ago you would have found a bit more to play with instead of three drained necromancers with a roaring cow and disappearing skeletons. Instead, you make me and Modryn have to figure out a way to get loose then run around trying to tire them out for you so you won't have such a difficult time with them. And all this time I thought you actually liked the kid." He motioned over to Modryn, who had fallen to his knees but wasn't allowing anyone to touch him just yet.

Mivryna raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she held back a smile, the fighters around her snorting to cover up a laugh. "You s'wit." She said, "I have half a mind to not give you your bow back!"

"Are you telling me they just left our weapons where they caught us?" Acado said incredulously, "Another reason you need to work on your timing; they had no idea what they were doing. You could have taken them on yourselves without our help in wearing them out."

"Oh knock it off before you actually make me laugh." Mivryna said.

"Ah, well, I was close." Acado replied, shrugging, "How on earth did you find this cave? I had only the vaguest idea where we were."

"That was a bit tricky but we got lucky. We found that grove where you had a nice fight with the Spriggans and then found a trail of Minotaur footprints, where we found your weapons. We continued on down the trail for a bit longer, though we had no clue as to where to go, when a cloud of bats came flying over the trees. You had sent us a bat messenger, which, by the way, delivered with the usual tact of your chosen messengers, so we decided that the bats were as good a clue as any. We went the direction we believed they came from and found this cave. Well, we weren't just going to run on in, so we poked around a bit until we heard a bunch of screaming coming from inside, followed by a roar. That's when we decided to invite ourselves in. Who are you to complain about bad timing?"

"I'm not, but he might." Acado said, motioning to Modryn who had finally allowed someone to pull him to his feet. "But, all that aside, let's please leave this miserable hole. I could sleep for three days after this."

Mivryna shook her head, "I have no doubt that you will."

XxXxXx

Things calmed down quite a bit after that. The feeling of relief was infectious and spread over the whole guild, making the very air seem lighter. Everyone was in a good mood, even Modryn who was happier with the fact that he actually walked away from that last fiasco on his own two rather than having to be carried off, bleeding and unconscious. He was not only tired of that but also of Acado's relentless teasing, which had mercifully let up recently.

But even Acado's teasing never truly irritated him. It was on his way back to Cheydinhal that he suddenly caught himself thinking how eager he was to go home. _Home_. He had never truly considered any one place home before. He had always been on the move, going from place to place to train, usually on the road. Now he all the sudden had a place he could call home. He realized that for the first time in his life that he was content. It was a foreign feeling, but not one he disliked.

He believed that the turmoil he had lived through in his childhood was over and now this new life, one he truly loved, would stay now and forever.

He had no idea how foolish he was for believing that.

XxXxXx

A/N: Oh I LOVE this new computer! All this time I've just been setting things up…now it's time to get the "master plan" underway!! Love it? Hate it? I wanna hear it! Review all about it!!

-Vanillathunder215


	14. Snow Comes After Fire

Stupid! So stupid! How could he have been so incredibly stupid?! Modryn berated himself as pushed the horse as fast as it could go through the biting wind-driven snow in the Jerall Mountains, spitting out snow every now and then. Even after all these years he still wasn't all too comfortable with these creatures but in face of the emergency he was in he pushed his discomfort aside.

"Modryn!" Came a shout from behind him, faint in the fierce wind, "Slow down! We won't get there any faster if you kill the horse beneath you!"

"We don't have _time_!" He yelled back over his shoulder, not slowing in the least.

It was his fault, he believed. If he had been paying closer attention, none of this would have happened. But as it was, someone's life was at stake and there was no force on this plane or on any plane of Oblivion that he would allow to take the life of someone else because of his mistake.

The horse snorted loudly with every stride it took but didn't slow. It was excited by the cold weather and by the nervousness of its rider. High-strung and willing to run, the wind didn't bother it in the least as it plunged on through knee-deep snow.

XxXxXx-_**Quite some time ago**_-XxXxXx

Lulled into complacency by this new-found life, Modryn barely noticed as the years began to slip by. He went easily from Swordsman to Protector to Defender in what seemed no time at all. His skills improved dramatically, making it difficult to find a challenging fight. He grew as well as he left his adolescent years behind. Not so much height wise but he added plenty of muscle to his slender elven frame. In fact, he became so strong that it got to the point where Acado quit sparring with him and started to pair him up with stronger opponents like the orcs. Soon he was beating them too.

So complacent was he that he didn't notice the look in Mivryna's eyes. She had been master of the guild for a very long time, even by elven standards. After Rakoslod had been killed she felt as if her job was complete. She doggedly continued to do her job, but no longer did she have the enthusiasm for it. She began to spend a longer and longer amount of time away from the guild, seeing if it could continue without her. Usually she found that many didn't even notice her gone. This was both encouraging and disheartening. She was glad they didn't seem to need her as much as she thought, but she also felt like all that time and effort she had put forth had been for nothing. Maybe it was time for her to go.

She had somewhere to go at least; Black Waterside Stable outside of the city was her refuge. The horses there, the big blacks of Cheydinhal, didn't care about politics or strategies or any of that. They just needed someone to look after them and take care of them. They judged on whether or not you fed them on time, not on how many times you messed up in the past. They appreciated small things and cared not for the repercussions of the future. Here, she felt free from all the vexations that had plagued her for so long.

She loved the horses…and Tovas. Tovas Selvani was the Dunmer who ran the stables and had been Mivryna's solace for many years now. It was he who had taught her the simple pleasures of horses and how to let them bear away your burdens by taking care of them. Slowly, Mivryna found herself falling out of love with the Fighters Guild and completely in love with the horses and Tovas. Yes, it was time for her to go.

When a Fighters Guild master leaves, they generally don't leave behind a successor as most are usually killed. Mivryna was no so different than the others. She preferred to let the fighters who remained choose who they wanted to take her place…after all; it was no longer her guild. And so the long reign of Mivryna Arano came to an end as she left without any fanfare to take up her life with Tovas and the black horses at Black Waterside Stable.

XxXxXx

"Gone? What the hell do you mean; gone?!" Modryn asked.

"Ai, I forgot you weren't here when it happened." Acado said delicately, far from happy himself, "She just up and left."

Modryn didn't say anything. He had been out on a contract south of Leyawiin and had missed Mivryna's departure completely. He hadn't even been aware of her absence until he had gotten back and found an Imperial man in her office, looking much more organized than it ever had in many years. That had been a bad shock in itself but to suddenly find out that Mivryna had up and left was an even nastier shock.

"So who is that in her office?" Modryn asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

"Ah yes." Acado said with a fake smile, "That would be Sodirius Fetchero, our new guild master…what?"

"Are you serious?" Modryn said with a snort of laughter, "_Sod_irius _Fetcher_o? I don't think his mother liked him very much."

"I don't know about the s'wit's mother, but I sure don't like him." Acado said with vehemence so uncharacteristic of him that Modryn quickly stopped laughing, "When Mivryna left, she gave no indication as to who was supposed to take her place as master. I think that she wanted to let the fighters here choose for themselves but none of them has so much as a brain between them."

Modryn stayed quiet as Acado continued his tirade, a feeling of dread growing within him.

"You'd better watch your back." Acado said suddenly, "This one has a problem with anyone who's not an Imperial, Breton, Nord or Redguard. It's like having Razconza all over again, only this one seems to have a brain but can't fight worth a damn!"

"He's reassigned you to another city, hasn't he?"

"Yes, but this time I don't mind so much." Acado said, "I'm going back to Chorrol, which I'm rather happy about, actually."

"I'm going with you." Modryn's voice made it clear he was not going to argue. Acado was the only stable thing left to him at this moment. He would look back on it now and laugh, knowing that when he was new to Cyrodiil he never would have dreamed of becoming such good friends with a Bosmer.

Acado studied him for a moment before nodding, "Sure. In fact, it's probably better this way. From what I heard he has a particular thing against Dunmer and Orcs. He probably won't even notice we're gone. The Champion of the guild, Roxy, is there so we'll still be able to get some jobs."

XxXxXx-_**Back in the Jerall Mountains**_-XxXxXx

Oh it was so cold, so bitterly cold. Now he understood why the locals had named the place as they did. He had finally slowed down, allowing the horse to catch its breath as well as his own. His companion was still far behind him, having slowed down earlier in fear of breaking the horse down. Modryn intertwined his fingers in the horse's mane, trying to warm his fingers against the hot flank of the horse's neck. Never in his life had he been this cold; it was as if his very bones were freezing and would snap at the slightest pressure. He must be getting close to the place.

Modryn thought about what led him to this miserable place, about the events that set in motion this horrible thing. He still couldn't believe that he had failed to see it. He had spent his life on his guard, always watching out for anything out of the norm. Why hadn't he seen it now? He gritted his teeth as he thought about that and all the possibilities that could happen if he didn't get there soon.

XxXxXx-_**Several weeks ago**_-XxXxXx

The two elves moved to Chorrol, the city where Modryn had originally started off in the Fighters Guild. The Champion, Roxy Jeline, a rather hardy Breton woman who, while not among the smartest of all people, was very loyal to the guild and not very happy about the way things seemed to be heading within the guild. She was more than happy to have the two experienced fighters and had plenty of jobs for them.

As it turned out, Acado had been right in saying that the new master probably wouldn't even notice that they were gone. He didn't notice, or didn't say anything about it, making Modryn wonder if he had even known that they had been there at all. Acado was also right about the master not liking any of the mer or beast races. Word from other guild halls in the other cities were grumbling about how many of the mer and beast races were being shorted on contracts and on money made from completed jobs. Other reports came in about how bad it was in Cheydinhal, how the guild was turning cultish; potential good fighters being turned away because they were not of human race, only certain types of jobs being taken, more money demanded for "extra" things like more than one fighter needed and so on.

"Told you this was going to go bad fast." Acado said one afternoon after hearing yet another complaint from a rejected recruit, "But I didn't expect it to get this bad."

"This is how it was in Morrowind." Modryn said, checking over his gear, "If you had a good guild steward you were better off, but if you get some sod who won't so much as look at you then you know that they don't really know what they're sending you into…don't care much either."

"True, but we've always prided ourselves on not doing that here." Acado said with a frown, "With both recruitment and contracts down, we might get into trouble. The empire provides a certain amount of funds…the rest we have to make on our own. Without contracts to provide that money and people to complete those contracts, we might find ourselves in a deep hole."

"And it's only been a few months." Modryn said, "How bad do you think it's going to get before it stops?"

"If anything stops it at all? I don't know…I don't much want to know anyway. What I'm surprised about is that no one has gotten killed yet, which is bound to happen if things keep going in their present state."

Acado got up and left then and Modryn didn't follow. He watched the Bosmer disappear down the stairs and listened to the slam of the door before heaving a sigh. He knew he had been lucky, he still had a job that paid, but how much longer would that luck hold?

"Ai, Mivryna." He said to himself, "Look what you left us with."

Modryn had the guild hall to himself for a while, which meant he had to stay in case someone came in to hire them (a big "If"). Since he wasn't really holding out for anyone to come in at all, he busied himself sharpening a long sword that he had found on his last contract. It was a beautiful piece, obviously hand-made, and made for actual battle, not a show-piece like many decorated swords, judging by its perfect balance and well-made blade. And such a blade! It was straight from the hilt to half-way up the blade where it began to curve, much like a scimitar, and the blade along this curve became serrated, like teeth. The blade was made of glass, making it highly valuable, but the hilt was a definite anomaly to this type of weapon; the hilt was made of metal but instead of being simply molded metal on the grip, it was wrapped in thick black leather, giving the wielder a better grip, and the guard was shaped on either side like a snarling wolf's head, the teeth replicating the serrated edge on the blade. It was a highly valuable weapon, one that Modryn, preferring blunt weapons, wouldn't use, but was unwilling to sell for some reason. He decided to keep it for now.

He was completely immersed in this weapon when the door banged open, making him jerk in surprise. He almost jerked again when, not a client or recruit walked in, but the guild master himself. Apparently he was "inspecting" the guild halls and didn't bother to send notice. Modryn suddenly felt vulnerable. He had no fear of what this man could physically do to him, unless he had some hidden back-up of some sort, for Modryn was far stronger and ten times the fighter. He was more afraid of what this man could say that would prove harmful. Modryn had learned that not all battles were fought with steel and that these Imperials were the masters at word battles.

Not a single word was ever exchanged between them though the stare that each man held spoke volumes. Modryn suddenly realized that he had been holding the sword, hidden on his lap under the table, in a white-knuckled grip. Just when he thought things were about to turn ugly, the door banged open again and Roxy, followed closely by Acado, entered. Acado visibly stiffened when he saw the master and Roxy, seeing the silent confrontation, quickly moved to greet the master. Sodirius turned to her and, with one final glance at the Dunmer, walked off with her.

Modryn let out the breath he had been holding then and leaned back in his chair, though he didn't release his grip on the sword. More disturbing than that however, was the feeling of dread that he couldn't shake off. He was keenly aware of Acado's stare on him, but he was too busy reflecting on what had just happened to respond to it. Something bad was going to happen, he just knew it would. He only hoped that he would be ready enough to deflect the worst of it.

XxXxXx- _**Jerall Mountains**_- XxXxXx

"There! I see it! Modryn, to your left!" Her voice sounded distant in the ceaseless wind. Only the Dunmer's keen sense of hearing kept that voice from being lost on the gale-force winds.

Modryn glanced to his left and quickly changed the horse's direction towards the barely visible cave entrance. The horse was only too happy to comply, promptly turning her face out of the biting wind and making a straight course to the only offering of shelter. Yet, as eager as she was to be out of the cold, something made her stop. She lifted her head; ears pricked forward, and refused to move a step. Maybe it was something she smelled, or something she heard, but more likely it was just the inner sixth sense that horses have that warns them of danger. Either way, she didn't want anything more to do with the cave and even reared when Modryn tried to urge her forward.

Modryn slid from the horse before she could throw him head-first into the snow. If this horse, as brave a horse that ever walked the earth, refused to go near this cave, then something truly dangerous must be inside. Modryn knew instantly that this was the place. He turned to his companion, who had like-wise dismounted, her horse also refusing to go near the cave, and nodded. They quickly led the horses behind a near-by out cropping of rocks, giving them some semblance of shelter, and tied them there together, letting them turn their backs to the wind and drop their heads, nose-to-nose.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked Modryn as he waded through knee-deep snow to the cave.

"I'm not sure of anything anymore." Modryn murmured to the wind.

XxXxXx- _**Chorrol, 2 days ago**_- XxXxXx

Several weeks went by and Modryn had put the incident with the guild master out of his mind. He wanted nothing to do with the man anyway and the less he thought about it, the better. Or so he thought.

"You know, this new master is starting to sound like Razconza." Eronor said one day, when Modryn decided to pay the old Dunmer a visit.

"Razconza. I'd forgotten all about him." Modryn said, "What happened to that fetcher anyway? It's been long enough that he's dead and gone now anyways but I never really found out what happened to him…not that I much cared at the time."

"Nobody really cared what happened to him." Eronor muttered, "Except those that got stuck with him. Mivryna sent him to Anvil after the new building was finished to irritate the poor souls there. He lived out the rest of his days completely despised, if what I heard was right, and ended up dead after a cart-horse coming in off the docks with a load spooked and ran over the s'wit as he was crossing the street."

"Stop making things up." Modryn complained, scowling at his friend, "There is no way that that happened."

"Believe what you want. That's what I heard." Eronor shrugged, "Don't ask if you won't believe it."

"I didn't say I didn't believe it." Modryn grumbled, "You've been around these monks too long."

"Well, you tell me something, then." Eronor said, ignoring the black look Modryn sent his way, "What is this fuss I hear about some secret mission or another that your new master came up with? Rumors are flying around about it being some sort of wild goose chase near Bruma."

"I haven't heard anything about that…wait, what did you hear?" Modryn asked, "Where did you hear this?"

"As I said; rumors. However, no one thinks o keeping their voice down around this place. Think the monks don't really care for gossip (which is correct most of the time!) and no one gives me any thought so I hear more than just simple tavern rumors."

"Well?" Modryn pressed after a moment, "What is it?"

"Oh! Well, from what I pieced together, there's a contract for some cave up around Bruma called Ice Fall that's filled with monsters." Eronor said, turning back to the wall he was fixing, "'Course, Ice Fall is just a legend, made up to scare those kids up to not wander around the mountains by themselves. Supposed to be filled with ogres, so the legend says."

"Ogres? I haven't seen one of those before." Modryn said. He had thought he had seen just about every creature in Cyrodiil, but apparently he had missed one or two.

"Be thankful for that then." Eronor scowled, "Nasty creatures. Think of the ogrims in Morrowind. A bit bigger, but just as fat and just as mean, if not a bit stronger. Ogrims usually are solitary, thank Azura, but ogres like to run in groups. Extremely dangerous creatures."

"So that's it?" Modryn pressed, "You heard that that scuttle butt put up a contract for some non-existent cave around Bruma filled with creatures that are more or less ogrims? That's it?"

"Watch it, little fetcher." Eronor growled at him, "I'm more inclined to think that, while the cave is legend, the contract is not. Someone apparently was already sent out on it."

"Feel sorry for that poor sod." Modryn said, "All that work and travel through those mountains and no pay."

"You little thick-head! You have yet to wonder why I'm even mentioning this to you!" Eronor said, throwing down his hammer.

Modryn jumped at the sudden outburst, nearly falling off his perch on top of the bales of hay. A bay horse that had been dozing nearby spooked at the sudden movement but when Modryn didn't move again, snorted in annoyance and pulled a mouthful of hay. "What are you talking about?" he asked, perplexed.

"Remember that I said that nobody pays me any mind around here?" Eronor said irritatedly, going on when Modryn nodded mutely, "Well, a couple of Sodirius' cronies came by here a few days ago, talking about it. They said something along the lines of taking care of "two things at once". Now I'm not sure what that means but I know that the man doesn't like anyone not human. He may be stupid, but he got to the top didn't he? Shows he's not that dumb. He apparently has got something out for you and your Bosmer friend, Acado. You, my young friend, are too thick headed to fully notice what's going on, but Acado…he's got a nose for trouble and he smelled trouble."

"Wait, wait." Modryn said, "Are you saying that Acado found something suspicious and he went and got himself caught where he shouldn't have been?"

"Long story short, yes." Eronor said, "Care to try and continue from there?"

"Acado hasn't been around the last couple of days, I assumed he was on a contract." Modryn surmised, "If this cave is supposed to be legend then no one will really wonder about it beyond why it was ever a job in the first place."

"Now you start to show some semblance of intelligence." Eronor snipped, "Now think of this. Take that obscure contract and take a nosy Bosmer who knows too much."

"Sodirius sent Acado to his death." Modryn said, his eyes going wide.

"I'm not going to say to his death." Eronor snorted, "After all, Acado lived this long, yes? Elf can take care of himself more or less."

"Eronor, I think I know what's going on…" Modryn said. He quickly told the older Dunmer all about the incident between him and the guild master several weeks ago, "That feeling of dread…maybe that had some merit to it. Eronor, Sodirius knows that Acado and I stick together most of the time. He hates me and obviously wants to get Acado out of the way. You heard his men say "taking care of two things at once"…they meant me and Acado. He sent Acado to his death…and is hoping that I'll go out after him and get killed as well."

"I suppose that…hey, wait, Modryn! Where are you going?" Eronor called out.

"I can't let him do this!" Modryn called back, not slowing as he ran back to the city.

"Won't that be playing right into his hands?"

"I won't let it!"

Modryn flew through the gates, past the startled guards and down the streets. It was late morning and the streets were crowded with people. The dark elf refused to let them slow him down however and plowed right through them. He barely noticed them. All he saw was the Fighters Guild building at the end of the street.

"ROXY!" He bellowed as he burst into the guild hall, scaring half a dozen people both in and outside of the building.

"What, what? What is it?!" she jumping up from the table, knocking over her chair.

"Who was sent on that mission, WHO?"

"What mission?"

"The one to Ice Fall."

"How…? How on earth did you find out about that?"

"Pointed ears come in handy every now and then." He said, "Who was sent on that mission?"

Roxy stared at him for a long time, "Look, I can't just…"

"Who. Was. Sent." Modryn snarled, red eyes flashing.

"Acado." Roxy admitted, feeling a little intimidated by the Dunmer in front of her.

Modryn felt as if the very world was crumbling beneath his feet. Acado wouldn't stand a chance if the rumors were true…

"Tell me about the mission, the whole thing, whatever Sodirius told Acado."

"Alright, alright." Roxy gave up, "He told Acado that there was a minor problem in some cave around Bruma called Ice Fall. Something about a rogue creature that needed to be taken care of but all the fighters in Bruma were too busy to look into it."

"When did he leave, Roxy?"

"Why are you so hell-bent on knowing all this?" She asked, perplexed, "Ice Fall is just a legend. Acado is just on a wild goose chase."

"Maybe, maybe not, but the contract is real, that's all that counts. As you very well know, Sodirius hates me and hates Acado so he has no problem sending Acado on a dangerous mission just so he'll get killed." Modryn's voice rose to a shout, but he found he didn't care, "I'm so hell-bent on finding out all this because that is called murder! I didn't think this guild allowed us to kill each other!"

Roxy looked him dead in the eye, "What's going on, Modryn? How do you know all this?"

"It's something I learned the hard way; always ask around before you take off because someone knows something." Modryn said, "In this case the information I got came from someone I know so I know it's true. Roxy that cave is real and it's filled with ogres!"

"Oh, damn…" Roxy said the full realization of what was happening setting in, "He left the day before yesterday…Hey! Modryn, wait!!"

Modryn was already out the door before she could finish her sentence.

XxXxXx- _**Jerall Mountains**_- XxXxXx

Mivryna could hardly believe how bad things had become in her beloved guild. While she had been enjoying her retirement, things had all but gone to hell. Well, considering where she was now, freezing her butt off in a blizzard, it had gone to hell. She just never expected hell to be so cold. Colder still was the shock she had received when Modryn had shown up out of the blue and spilled out a story of caves, ogres, ice and Acado. Somehow she managed to sort through his breathless babbling and, almost without thinking, grabbed her sword from its hook in the wall. She had borrowed two of the black horses, the fastest in Cyrodiil, and they had ridden off in search of their friend.

"The legendary Ice Fall cavern." She whispered to no one in particular, "So beautiful and so deadly."

"Deadly is right." Modryn murmured back, but even he could not deny the cave's beauty. Stalagmites and stalactites made of crystal clear ice lined the tunnel like colonnades. Light sparkled off the ice like diamonds, giving the place a surreal sense to it. It was a crystal kingdom, utterly flawless and beautiful. But behind that flawless beauty was a black shadow that stalked unwary visitors. It was a cave of death.

XxXxXx

A/N: I'm still debating on whether or not Acado should live or die…hmmm…Maybe some response in the form of reviews will sway me in one direction or another. Heeheehee.

-Vanillathunder215


	15. Three Arrows

Modryn and Mivryna hadn't gone very far into Ice Fall when suddenly, their keen elven ears picked up echoes of grunts and growls. Thanks to the mirror-like walls and maze-like tunnels, they couldn't tell for sure exactly where the noise was coming from. They stood still for a long moment, straining to hear something, anything, that would point them in the right direction. But other than a distant roar, as well as more growls, they got nothing.

"Go left." Mivryna said, after both gave up in frustration.

"Left? Why?"

"Because it's the best guess either of us can make." Mivryna said, "Also, Acado usually chooses left in situations like these."

Modryn shrugged. Left was just as good as right to him as long as it led them to where they wanted to go.

The left tunnel was smaller than the main one, making both Dunmer a little uneasy, and twisted and turned along so badly that Modryn suspected that they were barely more than 50 ft. from where they had started. Suddenly, he spotted something behind an icicle, half hidden in the snow. He dropped to his knees and began to dig frantically. He didn't say anything, nor did his face reveal what he was feeling, as he pulled out a sword belt with a short sword still sheathed in the scabbard. Silently he handed it to Mivryna, who quickly identified the sword as Acado's. The buckle was still clasped, showing that mer and belt had not willingly parted, the frayed sides of the separated pieces looked like the leather had been snapped apart.

While he wouldn't say it out loud, Modryn was starting to understand the hopelessness of this rescue mission. Seeing the thick leather yanked apart, snapped in two like a dry stick, was a nasty wake-up call to him. Still, he wasn't going to give up on his friend, wasn't going to let Sodirius win.

His musings were interrupted by another series of grunts and growls, this time much closer…too close. Mivryna grabbed his arm and yanked him behind some rocks. Her quick reactions saved them both as a few seconds later; three ogres came out of another tunnel, heading straight towards them.

Modryn couldn't help but stare, his red eyes wide in shock. Eronor was wrong; these things were _nothing_ like ogrims. Ogrims were just a little taller than the average Dunmer, about as wide as they were tall, with small beady eyes almost hidden behind a massive jowl filled with sharp teeth. Fortunately, despite their immense strength, ogrims were not too bright. In fact, it was widely suspected that their brains were as big as their eyes; very, very small. Ogres, on the other hand, were very tall, taller than a hulking Nord barbarian, with huge muscles that seemed fit to rip a man, or quite easily a very small Bosmer, in half. While they didn't seem to be the brightest of all creatures, Modryn caught a glance at their eyes and could easily see that they were far from stupid. They moved easily for creatures so large and Modryn held no doubts that they could probably outrun him if he made them angry enough, especially here, in their home. Both mer held very still, hardly daring to breathe, until the ogres had passed by them and the sound of their heavy footfalls faded.

"By Azura…" Modryn moaned, not wanting to believe it.

"What did you expect, an imp?" Mivryna snapped, "I was hoping to find Acado before he got too far into the cave and get out before any ogres would know of our presence but they obviously have already found him and have probably eaten him. We need to escape now while they're still unaware of us."

"Did you see any blood on that belt or anywhere around here?" Modryn shot back, "He might not be dead. Go back if you want, but I'm not giving up."

"Have all these years as a fighter not knocked any sense into that hard head of yours?" Mivryna asked, unable to believe what he was saying, "We won't be doing Acado any favors, or anyone else for that matter, least of all ourselves, if we get killed! These ogres will rip you limb from limb!"

"Have all these years taught _you_ nothing?" Modryn asked, eyes narrowed into angry slits, "I distinctly remember _you_ lecturing _me_ about never abandoning your guild brothers and sisters. All those times I've been in trouble, someone got me out. I would rather eat my mace than to brush that off."

Mivryna didn't answer but just stared at Modryn for a long while. She glanced worriedly down the tunnel that the ogres had taken, and then back down the way they had come. Finally she said, "Wish we had marked the way we had come."

Modryn didn't know what to make out of those words. They could have meant either or… "So we can find our way back after we find Acado." She explained, seeing Modryn's face, "I have a feeling we have quite a bit to go before we find what we are looking for."

Modryn allowed a small smile to play across his face, feeling his faith in his old master and friend return.

XxXxXx

They slunk along the tunnel after the three ogres as quiet as they could, hoping that ogres didn't have good hearing. Hearts pounding and adrenaline pumping, they heard every minute sound, saw every glimmer in the ice and snow around them, fearing that it was another ogre that had spotted them and that they would soon be surrounded by the creatures. Growls and grunts got louder as they went along, soon accompanied by scrapings of heavy feet.

Suddenly, the tunnel opened up into a cavern, a sprawling ice cave that, under normal circumstances, would have made them stare in wonder. Truly it was an ice kingdom, complete with a giant waterfall, frozen over as it had been for hundreds of years, earning the cavern's name. However, the two mer saw none of that. They only saw the dozens of ogres milling about the place. Huge ogres, some nearly twice as big as that of a normal ogre, with huge hulking muscles and hands bigger that Modryn's torso.

Modryn had not felt fear in many years, at least not true fear. Alarm and shock, yes, surprise, plenty, but he had not felt true terror since his childhood. He suddenly felt it again. Looking at all those monsters he had to get through to search for his friend sent terror racing through him. His mind was a jumble of indecipherable thoughts, his limbs felt like rubber. He wanted to cry out, just to fall down and scream, at the futility of it all. Mivryna pulled gently on his arm for the second time that day and he went without protest, crouching down in a small crevice in the wall.

"Well, we're here." Mivryna said, her eyes showing just how scared she was though her voice was steady, "We might as well come up with a plan."

Modryn nodded, some of his panic subsiding now that he wasn't looking at certain death, "Why do all of our mishaps seem to happen in caves?" he said weakly, "Why can't this happen outside for once?"

Mivryna smiled at his vain attempt at humor, "Well, at least caves give us an opportunity to sneak around undetected. The walls will shelter us better than any shadow."

"As to our plan; I noticed some natural bridges above the cavern." Mivryna went on, "Their too small for ogres, but they should hold our weight with no problem. If we can get up there we can search the place without being noticed."

"Maybe that tunnel we passed 20ft. behind us?" Modryn asked.

"Worth a try, let's go."

As quickly as they dared they ran back to the tunnel Modryn had indicated. They felt confident it was indeed the way to the bridges when they felt their legs begin to burn from the strain of running uphill though they didn't notice any change in the angle of their ascent. Their suspicions were confirmed as they emerged above the cavern, a narrow natural stone bridge spanning in front of them.

"Mivryna, let's not go out on the bridge just yet." Modryn said, frowning at how narrow it was, "It's too narrow. If one of those things gets the notion to look up while we're crossing, we're in big trouble."

Mivryna nodded, having come to the same conclusion herself. They both settled down by the mouth of the tunnel, well out of sight, and surveyed the cavern below, searching for any sign of their lost friend.

"Damn…Mivryna, look over there, by the waterfall." Modryn groaned, getting a glimpse past a cluster of particularly huge ogres.

Mivryna let out a hiss as she caught sight of Acado, bloody and armor ripped to pieces, hanging by his wrists from icicles. Ogres were poking at him and those that got too close were roughly shoved away by another, larger ogre. His bow and quiver were lying forgotten behind him, the ogres having no use or interest for the weapons. Modryn noted, with some hope, that whenever an ogre poked at the bloody Bosmer, he twitched. It was a tiny movement, barely noticeable, but it was a movement none-the-less. Acado was still alive.

"I think the only reason he's still alive is that they keep fighting over who gets to eat him." Mivryna reasoned, "I mean, to a huge ogre, Acado doesn't make for a very filling meal."

"This gives us plenty of time to make a new plan." Modryn said eagerly, his enthusiasm back now that his goal was in sight, "Operation Save a Bosmer."

"You forgot the whole title." Mivryna reminded the younger Dunmer, tempering his eagerness, "Operation Save a Bosmer Then Get Out of Here Alive."

"Too long, I preferred mine." Modryn said, still grinning, "But I think I already have a plan that covers both criteria."

Mivryna cocked an eyebrow. Whatever it was Modryn had planned, it was better than the nothing she had planned.

XxXxXx

"This is insane." Mivryna mumbled for the umpteenth time, "This is utterly insane."

Modryn ignored her as he set about putting the finishing touches to his plan. They had been at it for hours, drawing figures in the powdery snow, carefully cutting huge icicles loose without making too much noise, hauling them into position, re-drawing figures and summoning up enough nerve to go through with it. The plan itself was simple even if the process and the success was not. They had cut loose huge icicles by heating up Mivryna's sword with a fire touch spell and quickly sliding it through the base of it. Mivryna had several lengths of rope in her pack, like she always did, and they had tied them together and hauled them down the tunnel that led to the cavern as a road block of sorts. Of course, it wouldn't hold the ogres very long, but hopefully long enough for them to make good of their escape. The water fall was close to the bridge on the other side. The plan was to get across the bridge, where one of them would tie the remaining rope around their waist and, while the other distracted the ogres somehow, would bungee jump down, cut loose the Bosmer and would be hauled back up to the bridge while their ancestor guardians took over the distraction part. Then, if all went well, they would run back out the way they had come, the icicle blockade hopefully buying them a few extra minutes as well as the inevitable traffic jam.

Mivryna thought the plan was ingenious (though she didn't tell Modryn that!) but she hardly dared to hope that it would go through without a hitch. Too many things could go wrong. Too many things were assumed rather than assured. Too many loose ends flying around.

But they didn't have much of a choice.

Mivryna opted to bungee jump over the bridge, her argument being that Modryn was the strongest by far and that she was lighter. Also, Modryn knew how to cast fireballs, which would prove handy. Carefully, she knotted the rope around her waist while Modryn tied a loop at the other. She coiled it and looped it over her shoulder and then produced a dagger from her boot which she stuck in her belt. They looked at each other, each mustering the resolve to do this. Then, with a single mutual nod to each other, they ran out over the bridge, their battle cries splitting the air.

Every head in the cavern immediately spun up at them. Caught in total surprise, not a single ogre moved for a second, which gave Modryn enough time to lob several fireballs at the cavern entrance. The ice around it melted, causing several heavy boulders to collapse, blocking the entrance. It wasn't a total cave-in, however, and the ogres would soon have it unblocked but at the moment, they were too stunned, and angry, to think about it. The warriors' battle cries were soon drowned out as several dozen ogres opened their mouths and roared in fury. Two ghosts appeared then and, sensing the two mer's intent, swooped in and out of the mass of ogres, confusing them and enraging them further. Modryn, laughing manically in his battle lust, shot off fireball after fireball, enjoying the sight of ogres, unused to such heat after a lifetime in their icy home, rushing around, trying to put out the flames.

Mivryna, other than summoning her own guardian, paid no attention to the chaos below her. The first part of the plan had worked perfectly; none of the ogres noticed her in lieu of the male Dunmer throwing fireballs and the two ghosts. All the ogres around Acado had gone. Mivryna quickly threw the loop around one of the rocks, pulled it tight and leaped. She grunted as she landed hard but was up and running instantly. Acado was twenty feet, fifteen feet, ten, five, four, three, two- a sudden jerk knocked her flat on her face. She glanced back and realized, with a lump of horror rising in her throat, that the rope was too short! Acado was mere inches away from her and she couldn't reach him.

"Time to improvise." Mivryna growled. She yanked out of knife and sliced the rope, freeing herself.

Thinking they might need them later, she scooped up Acado's bow and quiver, slinging them over her shoulder before she began to frantically saw at Acado's bonds. Her heart was in her throat as she continued to cut, sweat pouring down her face and neck despite the cold, thinking how vulnerable she was if an ogre came upon her then. Finally she managed to cut through the rope and caught Acado as his limp body fell, positioning him across her shoulders. As she ran back to the bridge, she thanked whatever gods that were listening that Acado was a Bosmer. Grabbing the rope, she wound it several times around her wrist before calling to Modryn.

XxXxXx

Modryn heard her call but hesitated a moment. The ogres had been smarter than he had given them credit for. Instead of continuing to run around like he had hoped for, several were in the process of unblocking the exit, and were almost through! They were running out of time…

"MODRYN!" came Mivryna's cry, more insistent this time.

Modryn wasted no more time as he sprinted over to the rope. Driven by adrenaline and battle lust, the powerful dark elf pulled the rope up so fast that Mivryna landed on her feet next to him, blinking in surprise.

"Let's go! We have no time to waste!" Modryn yelled in her face as he pulled Acado from Mivryna and across his own shoulders. As Mivryna pointed out, he was stronger and could go faster than Mivryna could with the Bosmer on his back. Plus, Modryn had never fully mastered the use of ranged weapons. If the need presented itself, it made sense that the one who could actually hit the intended target should be the one unburdened and ready to fire.

Just then, the two ghosts faded. Mivryna and Modryn's limited magicka was spent, leaving them very vulnerable with no way of distracting the ogres' attention off of them. They flew down the tunnel and down the one they knew they had taken to get there just as a crash behind them announced the ogres getting past the collapsed entrance. They fervently hoped that the ice block would hold.

On and on they ran with the echoes of the enraged ogres ringing down the tunnels and in their ears. Their muscles burned and their throats burned with each ragged intake of freezing air, but they refused to slow down. To do so was to die. Modryn was faring a bit worse; he had pushed himself harder than Mivryna and, while indisputable in better shape than the woman, was starting to feel the effects of it. He concentrated on putting on foot in front of the other, staring hard at Mivryna's back to distract himself from his fatigue.

Thus, he almost ran over Mivryna when she suddenly skidded to a stop. He soon saw why; there was a split in the tunnel in front of her. She couldn't remember which one led to the exit. Roars echoed all around them, making their already racing hearts pound even more painfully. Mivryna almost burst into tears; to be defeated by a tunnel of all things!

"The right one…" a weak voice said in Modryn's ear, making him jump, "You went left to get here, so go right to get back out."

"Acado!" Mivryna cried, her relief at seeing him awake momentarily dispelling her panic, "What…"

"No time! GO!" Modryn shouted, pushing her to the right.

"Modryn…you shouldn't have done it." Acado whispered.

"And left you to die because of that damn fetcher?" Modryn spat, "If you truly believe that I'm going to punch you in the mouth."

"He wants to kill you too."

"I know." Modryn said grimly, noticing how the air started to feel crisper, "However, I don't plan on dying. He'll die before then."

"Modryn, I just remembered something."

"What?"

"There's another tunnel."

"Another tunnel? Where to where?"

"If you keep going past that cavern the tunnel loops back around. It's a shortcut back to the cave entrance." Acado said, swallowing hard, "They're probably waiting for you there as well as closing in from behind."

Modryn felt the blood drain from his face, his face going as pale as someone of his complexion could go. His plan was falling apart and now they were heading for big trouble. A blast of cold air hit him in the face, reminding him of how close they were to the exit. He started to call out to Mivryna, to warn her of the impending danger when they suddenly rounded a corner and burst into the cavern, the door not 100 ft. away.

As soon as they ran in, several things happened at once. Ogres burst out from a hidden tunnel to the side and, astonishingly quick, slammed into Modryn, sending him and Acado flying. Acado landed in the snow while Modryn managed to crash into an icicle, leaving him dazed. Mivryna screamed out for them but was also slammed into by an ogre. She landed near Acado but, unlike the two males, leapt to her feet, sword drawn and snarling like a tigress. She became, once again, the Fighters Guild Master, her rage boiling over at the sight of her fighters, HER fighters, down and injured. Her red eyes flashing and practically foaming at the mouth, she let out an unearthly scream that sent shivers down everyone's spine and charged. She looked so crazed, so devilish, that she struck terror into the ogres' normally fearless hearts. Several actually turned-tail and fled! The ones that didn't flee got to taste her blade; moving so fast that they had no chance of stopping it.

Acado recovered enough to notice something; his bow and quiver lying next to him. They had slipped off Mivryna when she landed, strapped insecurely as they were, and she, in her rage, had not noticed. Ever observant and more attuned to all things related to nature, the Bosmer knew things about this cave that the Dunmer didn't. He heard the roars of the ogres and knew that, while Mivryna was holding them back now, pushing them back even, she couldn't hold on her own against all of them. Modryn, groaning and struggling to his feet, was exhausted and wouldn't last long either. Acado knew what had to be done.

With strength that only comes with a man who knew his fate, he surged to his feet, grabbed Modryn around the middle, dragged him all the way to the door, kicked it open and threw him bodily out. He then staggered over to Mivryna, whose rage was ebbing with her energy, and dragged her out as well. Knowing he had far over-stepped his limits, Acado plopped down just inside the door. He looked back out at the two Dunmer who had been his best friends, his family, for so many years. Mivryna picked her head up and looked him dead in the eye. She knew then exactly what he planned to do, his last desperate stand to save those he loved. Though her heart shrieked in protest, begging her to leap up and stop him, she couldn't do it. She wouldn't dishonor him this way. Not a single word passed between them, none was needed, before she finally nodded. She stood slowly and grabbed Modryn, who was still a little dazed, under the arm pits and dragged him away from the cave. She looked back at the cave, where the door was still open, and could see the ogres starting to fill the cavern.

Modryn finally shook off the last off the stars that floated through his vision and looked up to see Acado's last stand. He staggered to his feet, placing them apart and finding his balance, and straightened, fighting away the pain and dizziness. He ran his hand over the smooth wood of his trusty bow, Ice Bane. He had carried it for centuries and it never failed him. How appropriately named it was, especially now when it would live up to its name! He reached back and pulled out three arrows; one for Mivryna, one for Modryn and one for all those he had known in the Fighters Guild. He ran his fingers lightly over the feathers, smoothing them out to insure a straight and true flight, though he knew they would; he had carved and fletched these arrows himself. He knocked them to Ice Bane and sighted down the shafts. The ogres thought he was aiming for them and, remembering the damage he had caused when he had first come, they didn't press forward, pushing each other forward in an attempt to get out of that wicked bow's line of fire. But Acado wasn't aiming for them. He swung his bow up and let the magical flaming arrows fly into the central supporting icicle above his head.

A sudden serene calm came over him then as he watched chunks fall from the massive icicle, creating cracks in the ceiling. He smiled then, no longer feeling pain or fear, feeling nothing but that serene calm. He felt like he was back home, out of this miserable freezing hole and back in his home in the Great Forest. He felt a warm gentle breeze flowing through the trees, carrying on it the deep earthy aroma of the forest. His heart sang out in joy with it. Memories flashed through his head; all the good times, all the bad times, a lot of it with Mivryna and a lot with Modryn. All the people he had known in his long life flew through his mind, each one came with a different story.

He pulled out three more arrows and fired, watching as more cracks appeared, deeper and longer. Dust started to cloud the air and the cave began to shake. It was almost over. Just three more arrows.

He had always been a fighter, as long as he could remember. It was his life's calling. A calling he answered as loud as he could. He loved being a fighter, loved being the one people could to turn to for help, loved getting rid of people and creatures that tried to destroy the peace that he tried so hard to keep. Taking down a cave full of ogres was just the way he wanted it all to end.

He let fly his last three arrows.

Modryn watched in helpless horror as the cave began to collapse. The ground shook and bucked beneath him and snow and dust began to cloud the air. There was a loud roar, not one from an ogre, but one from the very earth itself. The icicle, melted by Ice Bane, cracked and fell from its age old perch, bringing the whole cave down with it, on top of all the ogres, on top of Acado who stood still, smiling.

"NO!" Modryn screamed, "NO!!"

"Modryn, move!" Mivryna screamed.

Seeing how he had frozen up, she tackled him, sending him flying backwards as debris flew through the air. Mivryna threw herself over Modryn, shielding him with her own body until finally the ground stopped shaking and the only noises they heard was the moan of the wind. Modryn slowly pushed Mivryna off of him and stood up.

Only a pile of rocks remained where the cave had once been. There was no sign of any ogres but, worst of all, there was no sign of Acado. Modryn felt as if he couldn't breathe. A hand had closed around his heart and lungs, preventing him from drawing breath. A bitter chill that was not related to the temperature crept through his body, making his teeth chatter. This couldn't be happening…he refused to believe it.

"No…" he whispered.

Suddenly, he found himself running, ignoring protests from his exhausted body, towards the rocks. In futile anguish he began to dig through the rocks, desperately trying to find his friend, hoping against all hope that Acado somehow managed to find that one pocket of space in the cave-in and survived. After all, Acado always seemed to have more luck than one should be allowed to have. He had to have lived. Modryn refused to believe anything else.

Mivryna watched the scene before her in anguish. Though she had known it was coming, had accepted it even, it didn't make the pain any less poignant. Watching Modryn dig frantically through the rubble, however, nearly tore her heart to pieces. He had always been the steady one, she had believed, never letting his emotions get the better of him. He was the emotional stabilizer to all the other fighters. Now she realized that that was because of Acado. Now that Acado was gone, Modryn lost his stabilization. Seeing him like this hurt her more than anything.

She nearly broke down when she got close to him and saw that he had scraped his hands raw on the icy rocks, leaving bloody handprints on everything he touched.

"Modryn." She said gently, "Stop. It's over."

He didn't say anything, didn't stop, just shook his head and continued to dig.

"Modryn, please." She begged, grabbing his arms, "He's gone."

"Why?" he rounded on her suddenly, yanking himself out of her grasp, "Why did you let it happen?"

Mivryna took a step back, knowing his anger wasn't for her but not wanting to push the volatile male. "He wanted it this way."

"No! No, don't say that." Modryn pleaded, breathing hard, "It shouldn't have ended this way. This shouldn't have even happened! Why, why, why, WHY!!" he threw his head back and screamed. He fell to his knees, dropping his head and digging his bloodied fingers into the snow, "Why?"

Mivryna carefully put a hand on his shoulder but he quickly pulled away, shaking his head. He moved back to the rubble and began to dig through it again, ignoring her totally. Mivryna slowly removed her belt, wrapping it around her knuckles so that the metal buckle was on top. She wound the leather over the buckle once more and then glanced up at Modryn.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered before slugging his as hard as she could in the head. She watched as he immediately dropped heavily into the snow and quickly checked to make sure she hadn't injured him further. "I'm so sorry." She whispered again, sinking down into the snow next to him and holding him to her chest,"It's for your own good."

She knew he would never understand why she did that. He would probably never forgive her for this.

XxXxXx

A/N: Sorry, I had to do it! I didn't want to but, as I said, I had to do it. I have something good planned so please don't kill me for it. sees murderous gleams in the computer screen EEK!! hides

PS- to all of you who reviewed THANK YOU!! I was starting to wonder if anyone was actually reading this and whether or not I should continue. Thank you for restoring faith!

PPS- more reviews would brighten my day! (literally, it's been raining way too much over here!!)

-Vanillathunder215


	16. Never Forget

Consciousness teased Modryn's mind, slowly letting awareness return to him, but not letting him wake fully up. His mind was foggy, memories flitting in and out but not taking any cognitive substance. As he fought against the fog the memories became clearer, and suddenly he remembered everything. He awoke fully with a jerk and bolted upright, only to quickly regret it as his head throbbed and lights exploded behind his eyes, nearly making him fall over again. But stubbornness and pure anger pushed the pain away and he forced himself to his feet.

"You shouldn't be moving yet." A voice behind him said.

"But we still aren't finished." He said without turning around, staring at the pile of rubble, "and we are running short of time."

Mivryna frowned in confusion as she rose and went to stand next to him. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"It's only a matter of time before someone realizes that Acado and I are gone. Roxy and Eronor know what is going on, and Tovas will be missing you."

"In other words, we need to get to Sodirius before he skips town." Mivryna said, nodding her head.

Modryn gave her a sidelong look. There was anger there, more like rage, Mivryna thought, but none of it was for her. A Dunmer's memory is long and they never forget a slight done to them or to their friends. No matter how exhausted or how injured or how much pain, physically or emotionally, they were in they were going to have their revenge.

Mivryna looked back over to the remains of the legendary Ice Falls, but she didn't see a cave; all she saw was the burial cairn of her oldest and dearest friend. Her dark red eyes began to burn until they seemed ready to burst into flames.

She turned to Modryn, "Let's go. We wouldn't want to miss him now, would we?" Modryn smiled grimly in return.

XxXxXx

The ride back to Cheydinhal was fast and furious. They scornfully disdained the roads, preferring a direct route back to the city. The horses sensed their rider's urgency and, with the mountain wind at their backs, they fairly flew. Nothing stood before them; creatures fled as the two black horses crashed through the woods like tornados and bandits stayed hidden when they saw the Dunmer's red eyes glowing like fire. The heavens help whoever got in their way.

They slid to a stop outside Cheydinhal in the middle of the night, and immediately started for the guild. The guards at the city gates, though they knew both Mivryna and Modryn quite well, almost didn't recognize them, covered in blood and dust and their eyes burning for blood. A few tense moments passed before one guard finally got over his shock enough to open the gates.

"By the Nine." He whispered as they disappeared without a word into the city, "I would surely hate to be the one who made them two mad. Mivryna was never one you wanted to cross on any day but Oreyn…he wouldn't have a single problem splitting a fool's head open with that mace of his."

"Well, whatever it is they're up to, I'm not about to go stick my nose in it." Another replied, "I might find myself missing it!"

"I think you might have gotten yourself a reputation." Mivryna said, her sensitive ears picking up every single word that the guard had said, "That guard has no idea how close to the truth his words are."

Modryn nodded, grimly satisfied, "Too bad it doesn't keep the fools away though. Speaking of fools…Sodirius is bound to have someone guarding him. The others around the guild won't bother us at all, but there might be some that are loyal…"

"Like you and Acado were to me?" Mivryna teased.

"You could take care of yourself." Modryn snorted, "Even with an extra set of arms and skin made of steel this man couldn't fight off a rat. Those around him however might be a bit more experienced with a blade."

"True, true, but I don't think that they are expecting us." Mivryna said, pulling out her sword and inspecting the blade.

Modryn smiled wickedly. While he was still enraged and still felt the pain of loss acutely, he couldn't deny the blood lust. That primal urge in him was so strong it threatened to consume him. It promised a blood-filled night.

As always, the door to the guild was unlocked, making it easy to enter completely unnoticed. Well, almost. A few fighters were sitting around the table and looked up in surprise as the two entered. They stood quickly, hands resting casually on their weapon hilts, a little wary of people coming this late at night, but as soon as they saw who it was they immediately relaxed.

"The night is still young." Mivryna said, "Why don't you go out and get a drink…or three."

They got the hint instantly and left, fully confident that when they came back, all problems would be taken care of.

"Told you everyone hates him." Modryn muttered.

"Makes things easier." Mivryna said, "I only want to take care of Sodirius's fetchers without anymore good fighters dying."

They stopped in front of the office, noticing a new, more elaborate lock on it.

"Well, I don't think Sodirius is expecting company." Mivryna said, " And it might be a little rude to just burst into his office unannounced now, don't you agree?"

She reached up and politely tapped on the door.

"We told you to send away all clients until the morning! How hard is it for you to follow those simple orders, you fool!" Came a harsh voice on the other side.

Mivryna's eyes widened. Never would she have treated her fighters like that nor would she have turned a client away because of the time. In fact most of the urgent ones came at night, the ones with missing children or monsters attacking villages. Her eyes narrowed then; no one ever insulted her or the guild and got away with it. She raised her fist, intending on pounding the door to kindling if she had to but Modryn put his hand on her shoulder.

"I have a key, you know." He said, holding up his mace.

He stepped up and knocked on the door, just to get their attention and, as someone began to curse at him for disturbing them, swung his mace as hard as he could into the door. It virtually exploded, sending shards of wood flying everywhere. The bigger pieces fell away, revealing 4 very surprised looking guards and an even more surprised, and a little frightened looking, Sodirius.

"Should have opened up when we knocked the first time." Modryn said matter-of-factly.

The four guards weren't interested in hearing anymore and quickly leaped over the ruined remains of the door and attacked.

The guards had no idea who they were messing with, that even 10 of them wouldn't have stood a chance against the Dunmer.

Two of them came at Modryn, swinging heavy claymores at his head. Modryn easily avoided one swing and ducked inside the second, turning and ramming his shoulder into the man's chest, throwing his entire weight against him. The man stumbled backwards but managed to swing an arm around and take the smaller mer along for the ride. Unfortunately for him, Modryn, who was not encumbered by bulky head-to-toe armor or a heavy weapon, easily rolled out of the grip and landed on his feet and quickly hopped out of the way as the first guard swung his claymore at Modryn, looking for an easy hit, but hit his companion instead, nearly severing his arm. He stared in utter horror at his screaming friend, his face white.

Mivryna waited until the last possible second before leaping into the air, up and over the swings of the claymores, startling everyone who had never seen such a risky move. But it worked. She landed on one of the blades and punched out with the hilt of her sword, solidly connecting with the man's face. His eyes crossed and rolled up inside his head before slowly collapsing onto the floor. Mivryna calmly stepped off the blade as it fell to the ground and turned to face the other guard.

Modryn stood waiting impatiently for his guard to turn away from the fallen man, but he was too absorbed with the fact that he had pretty much killed his friend. Finally, in ultimate frustration, he cleared his throat loudly to get the man's attention and, when he finally did turn around, weapon raised slightly like he was thinking about attacking, he brought his mace around and took the man's face off.

The last remaining guard, seeing one man unconscious, one dead and another dying, decided that he had seen more than enough. As the two deadly elves turned towards him, he turned tail and fled, slamming the door behind him. Modryn and Mivryna looked at each other and shrugged. That just simply made things easier. Then they turned their attention to Sodirius, who was looking very nervous indeed.

"I could have you arrested for murder." He bluffed; motioning to the man Modryn had killed.

"Pretty bold claim coming from a man who tried to have me and Acado killed." Modryn said, his voice trembling a little from barely suppressed rage.

"Have you killed? What is this non-sense you speak of?" he shouted, trying to regain his composure.

Modryn opened his mouth to answer but Mivryna stopped him with a touch to his shoulder. Slowly she pulled out something she had strapped to her back, something Modryn had missed and slammed it onto the table, making Sodirius jump. Modryn's eyes widened a little when he saw what it was; a very familiar bow.

"You might recognize this." She said evenly, "This was Acado's. If you knew him half as well as we did then you would know that he rarely went anywhere without it. Want to know how we got hold of it?"

"He's dead!" Modryn shouted suddenly, making them all jump, "Killed by ogres in a cave that wasn't supposed to exist, but you knew that didn't you?"

Sodirius knew they had him cornered. He also knew that, unless he could think up of something, he wasn't likely to get out of this alive. But one does not just side step around a pair of angry Dunmer and his furiously working mind began to see the futility in even trying to think of escape.

"Killing another fighter in the guild is punishable by death." Mivryna said, "But never before have I heard of a guild master killing his own men. Considering this special circumstance I'll have to think of something special."

Sodirius, thinking he still had a chance of getting out of there alive before they decided to kill him, relaxed. Unfortunately, Mivryna saw it.

"Oh no, no, you stupid man." She chided mockingly, "See, Modryn wanted to kill you himself and, had you been anyone else, I would have let him. But you see, this is more personal as I was the former master of the guild in addition to Acado being a very close friend of mine. This one I'll handle myself."

She then pulled out a dagger from her belt and advanced on Sodirius. Even Modryn, watching from the ruined doorway, who was used to blood and violence, welcomed it even, had to close his eyes and turn away.

XxXxXx

Some hours later, with dawn starting to break, the 3 fighters who had been in the guild when Mivryna and Modryn had arrived like a thunderstorm were just starting to make their way back. One of them looked up at the lightening sky and noted, with a little trepidation, that the morning sky was blood red. Exchanging looks, the three hurried back, unsure of what they would find.

Rounding the corner, they saw Modryn emerge from the doorway and collapse on the top step. As they got closer they could see he was covered in blood but realized, as he looked up at them and waved away their concerned inquires, that none of it was his.

"What happened?" One of them finally asked.

"We need to find a new guild master." Modryn said.

Despite their continuous pleas for more information, he refused to say anything else. There just wasn't anything left to say. With all the excitement over, all the pain and grief came crashing back. He felt drained and exhausted and quite frankly just did not feel like talking to anyone about anything. They would get a new master, of that he had no doubt, one that would not be so willing to kill his own fighters. But the price seemed too great.

Modryn sighed and glanced up at the sky. The deep red it had displayed earlier was giving way to pale yellow. Like blood being washed off an old wound.

XxXxXx

Things slowly started to go back to normal, but Modryn hardly cared. He had little to no interest in what went on in the guild, or what contracts he was given. He had lost just about everything he had, lost his fighting spirit, and that was worse than death. He just simply did not care anymore.

Mivryna tried to bring him out of it but she was already gone to him and he wouldn't stand to listen to anything she had to say to him anymore. So she, rather reluctantly, left him alone. Roxy, whom he wasn't overly fond of to begin with, grew even more distant from him, which was fine by him.

Doggedly he went about his usual routine though, lacking his former energy and spirit, in a blacker mood. He held no more tolerance for anything and was quite willing to snap off at anyone.

Most of the fighters however were quite willing to give him enough space, mostly knowing that he had been good friends with the Bosmer. Those who didn't learned quickly enough, usually with lasting painful reminders.

But time heals all wounds, no matter how deep, and Modryn was no different. Eventually he regained his old energy back, as well as his enthusiasm for the guild. But he never forgot that day. Mer live a long time and their memories are long, especially Dunmer, who never forget personal injuries.

Despite his obvious improvement, Modryn knew that there was something out there, something that would change his life monumentally, much like Mivryna and Acado did all those years earlier. The only problem was he didn't know what or where it was. He could only wait and see.

Modryn wouldn't find his break for another 50 years.

XxXxXx

A/N: Don't believe for a second that I'm even close to being done! This is just the start! Oh, and in case some of you were wondering; I left Mivryna's "job" open for everyone to fill in with their own imaginations. Happy daydreaming.

-vanillathunder215


	17. The Break

It happened as he was heading back to Chorrol after completing a contract. He was a Guardian now, the same rank as Acado had been, and had regained quite a bit of his old spirit back, though the black mood remained. He had become notorious for it now, but he didn't really care what others said. It helped keep the annoying ones away…most of the time. And besides, it came in handy for keeping new recruits in line and keeping the older ones toughened.

He turned north off the road just west of Skingrad, cutting behind the Great Forest, saving himself a few days of travel. The quiet of the forest was serene and he allowed himself to relax a little as he went along. He had taken this route many times and knew it pretty well but he hadn't been this way in quite some time. Even so, he was still quite surprised to find that someone had set up a plantation among the trees. What surprised him even more was that it was well hidden and in the middle of absolute nowhere. Normally plantations were close to roads to allow quick and easy access to the road. It was safer that way as legion soldiers patrolling the roads could quickly come to their aid and much more convenient. Usually Modryn found that plantations and villas that were sequestered away like this usually meant that the owner was hiding or was up to no good and Modryn was willing to bet it was the latter (he couldn't quite fathom hiding in such a grand house anyway. It took away the whole point of being inconspicuous.).

Curious (and a little suspicious) Modryn approached the villa carefully, making sure to keep himself hidden amongst the trees, trying to see if he could see any activity about the villa. At first he didn't see anything but a sudden moaning cry made him look up.

Carefully he circled the house to the other side and found that the forest had been cleared and plowed into fields of crops. That in itself wasn't out of the ordinary but then Modryn discovered the source of the cry. What he saw made his blood boil.

A huge man, easily three times the size of Modryn, was beating a Bosmer woman. The woman, dressed in tattered rags, was on the ground more or less taking the beating. There were many others around; Argonians, Khajiit, mer and men, but none moved to help her. And Modryn saw why; on their arms were heavy metal bracers that could be mistaken for armor or gaudy jewelry that glowed with a slight sickly red light. He had seen them before and knew exactly what they were; slave bracers.

He had never really liked slavery, believing if you wanted something done you do it yourself, but a rush of memories came back as he watched that mer woman being beaten. He clenched his hands together so hard that his knuckles turned white and his nails bit crescents into his palm. It took every ounce of willpower to keep from rushing out there and bashing the man's skull in.

As it was, he could do nothing at the moment. As good as he was, he would be over-whelmed by these hulking men and he didn't want any of the slaves to get caught in the crossfire. He took a quick head count of all the slaves he could see and then, with one last long look at the poor woman, said softly, "I'll be back." And was off through the forest at a dead run.

XxXxXx-5 days later-XxXxXx

"You were right…this IS atrocious." Sorosi whispered.

"You sound surprised." Modryn whispered back, a bit more harshly than he intended.

"Oh knock it off." The woman retorted, "It's just that slavery is illegal in Cyrodiil…and everywhere else in the empire except Morrowind. That means that all these slaves…"

"Where smuggled in from Morrowind, yes I know." Modryn finished for her, "And smuggling slaves isn't cheap or easy so don't expect whoever owns this place to just roll over and let us simply take them."

Sorosi nodded and turned her attention back to the scene below her. Sorosi was one of the ones to join soon after the whole Sodirius fiasco. Being a Dunmer, she was also the only one remaining of those recruits from 50 years ago. Quick and agile, she was deadly with a katana. The only thing that was sharper than her sword was her tongue and her wits. While she had a cheery personality, she wouldn't take tongue from anyone, not even Modryn, and would give it right back with interest. She was the only one who had back-talked to Modryn more than twice and still walked without a limp...and with her legs actually in one piece.

"Do they really still keep slaves like this in Morrowind?" she asked surveying the slaves below, hunched over their work in dejection, "This is horrible!"

Modryn glanced over at her. Sorosi, born and raised in Cyrodiil, had no idea about the true workings of the world, especially the country of her kin. Even after all this time as a fighter, she still had not experienced true cruelty. This was a rude wake-up call for her.

"It's part of the Armistice Morrowind signed with the empire, you know that." He said, "Though there are less slaves than in the old days as the slave trade has been banned. Many are pushing for slavery to be illegal altogether and there are plenty of people who go so far as to steal slaves from plantation such as this and free them in relative safety."

"Wait…we aren't stealing them, are we?" Sorosi asked in alarm.

"No we aren't." Modryn said, a little impatiently, "As you pointed out earlier, slavery is illegal and we can take them legally. It just won't be without a fight."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that." Sorosi said, a little sheepishly.

Modryn rolled his eyes, "Alright, be useful now. Go let Gwen know that everyone on the left and right flanks are ready. Ask her if she and her boys in the center are ready and tell her we'll go in as planned on my signal. Than hurry back."

He watched as Sorosi disappeared almost instantly in the pre-dusk light in the woods before turning back to the scene below. The slaves were being lined up and counted meticulously as their hands were bound and they were tied together in a line. He wanted the slaves to be put away for the night before he made any move what so ever to insure that the guards wouldn't kill them to save face. He wanted every single one alive to point the finger at who owned them.

"She's ready and waiting." Sorosi whispered, appearing at his side like magic.

He nodded, "Good…just a few more minutes and we'll go."

Night had fully settled by the time the guards were satisfied enough to start moving the line of slaves. They jostled them into moving quite roughly; using whips and other means that made Modryn grip the hilt of his mace tighter.

"Tracker!" Modryn whispered to the darkness around him. A slight hiss was the only indication that told that the dark red Argonian was there. "Go follow that line and let me know where they put the slaves. They might get clever and hide them in a cave or something. And for Azura's sake, don't get lost out there!"

The Argonian chuckled at the notion and slipped off after the line, silent as a shadow.

Modryn waited a few more minutes to make sure the guards were far enough away that whatever noise they were about to make wouldn't bring them running back. They didn't want to deal with them just yet. When he was satisfied he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth three times, signaling that it was time to move.

Three groups slid silently up to the house, which was still lit up. Modryn hardly dared to hope that they would make it all the way to the house without raising an alarm, though it would be nice, and so he wasn't too surprised when he turned a corner and almost ran into a guard with a dog.

The dog immediately let out a howl that would have terrified most people and leaped for the Dunmer. Modryn simply brought his knee up and caught the dog in the throat as it pushed off the ground, making it back off, gagging. The guard still hadn't gotten over his surprise and Modryn wasn't about to let him but Sorosi had gotten there first, her katana making short work of him.

"Well, hopefully all the others will think that the stupid dog was howling at a rabbit or something." Sorosi said.

Modryn didn't bother to answer her. He knew better. Besides, the dog wasn't going to bother them now. Apparently it too had suffered under the hands of the guards and, with its handler dead, had no more interest in being a guard dog. Still, Modryn, not wanting to lose any hands or fingers, took no chances and quickly wrapped the rope around the dog's muzzle to keep it quiet, as well as unable to bite, and tied the rest of it around a pole.

"Hurry! There will be more about." Modryn said.

Indeed there were. Alerted by the howl, more men and dogs were rapidly appearing around them, making any hope for minimal fighting obsolete. Not that any of the fighters minded that. The dogs were good only for making noise and intimidation. They were no use against blades and soon the snarls and growls became yelps and whimpers and many dogs were running off into the surrounding woods, tails tucked tightly between their legs. The men didn't have any better luck than their dogs

Those that weren't taking care of the guards were hurrying to the house, hoping the get the plantation owner before he escaped.

"Tracker!" Modryn yelled as he ran, "Take three and circle around back. There's bound to be a back door!"

A big Orc leveled the door with one single punch and everyone piled in, scaring several people, mostly woman, half to death.

"Excuse me ma'am, pardon the interruption." The cheeky Sorosi couldn't help but say, "But we're looking for the gentlemen who owns the place. Can you tell me where the sleaze ball is hiding, I mean, can you tell me where I can find him?"

One pointed wordlessly towards a flight of stairs and Sorosi politely inclined her head, "Thank you very much. Now, I wouldn't suggest leaving or you might get those dresses dirty. In fact, I wouldn't even suggest getting up as someone might have an over-eager blade."

"Like someone has an over-eager tongue." Modryn said, grabbing her by the back of her cuirass and dragged her along, "Let's move!"

Upstairs they didn't find anything interesting, or anyone for that matter, and were starting to wonder if the woman had conned them when they met up with Tracker's team.

"We found a back door but there were no tracks leading in or out." Tracker said, "We didn't see anyone on the way here either."

"You had better say there's someone watching that door." Modryn growled, starting to get very annoyed.

"Yes, yes, there's someone there." Tracker said, smiling to reveal a row of pointy teeth, "Maybe there's a basement or hidden door?"

"Start looking then." Modryn said.

"They combed through the house while Sorosi happily bounced over to where the women were still sitting, utterly motionless except for their shaking hands and darting eyes, and began to "politely" get information out of them.

Midnight had long since come and gone when someone finally found a trap door hidden beneath a rug. The Orc heaved it open and two of them jumped down into the shallow hole, emerging a moment later with a frightened looking Imperial man. With an impressive show of strength that belied his size and showed just how much his irritation had mounted over the last several hours, Modryn grabbed the unfortunate man by the collar and heaved him up out of the hole and shoved him up against the wall, feet dangling a good foot off the ground.

"You the one who owns this place?" he asked rather calmly, though it made all the fighters back up a step or two.

"Well, actually, you see…" The man began, but was rudely cut off.

"That's not what I asked, now is it?" Modryn asked, his voice deadly calm, "Let's try again; are you the one who owns this place?"

"Well…yes, yes I am." The man gave in, seeing the fighters take another step away from the volatile Dunmer, "My name is Viator Artorius. But I am merely the manager…not the actually owner, you see."

Modryn's red eyes blazed as the man kept contradicting himself. Suddenly, he let his fury show. He pulled the man back and slammed him hard into the wall.

"You have about three seconds to start speaking straight," He roared, "Or I'll let the Orc play with you for a while."

While that might have been a preferable punishment compared to whatever Modryn could do, the Orc in question, Dunk gro-Bonk, was huge even by an Orc's standards and seemed more than happy to have a chance to "play" with the Imperial man. Much to his disappointment, the man began to babble frantically in an effort to keep from becoming an Orc's play toy.

Modryn was having a hard time making heads or tails of what the man was saying but he did mange to get that the man was indeed the owner (not the manager) and was not sure why they had barged in on his humble plantation so late at night. Why was he hiding? Because he thought bandits were attacking his home, as bandits were common here so far out in the forest. Who were the women downstairs? His wife, sisters and cousins.

Modryn grew bored and, after listening to the gibberish for what he thought was more than long enough, he simply dropped the man and let him fall to the ground with a bump. Amazingly, he never ceased talking.

"Kirsten, Miles and Dangor. I want you to go get Sorosi and re-search the house, only this time look for a key that will open the slave bracers. This idiot," Modryn kicked Viator, "isn't giving us anything. Also look for a contract or something that shows he smuggled the slaves in. We might be able to bust the smuggler as well."

"What makes you think it will be out in the open?" Dangor asked skeptically.

Modryn sighed in exasperation, "You have a lock pick, do you not? Now get going!"

He glanced again at Viator, "Oh forget it. Dunk, stay with him until he finally spouts something useful." Modryn turned and left then, passing the women who still had yet to move, and out the open doorway. He felt how thick the door was beneath his feet and felt a sincere admiration for Dunk's strength.

"Modryn! Over here!" Gwen called, waving him over. "We have the whole place shut down, guards and all. Did you find the idiot who owns this place?"

"Idiot is right." Modryn grumbled, "But he didn't have anything interesting to say. Please tell me you have had more success."

"Yeah. We pulled some keys from the guards to the cavern the slaves are kept in but from what I understand the keys to their cells are in the caverns and none of these guys know where the keys to the bracers are."

"We can deal with that later. I know a mage that can remove the magic in those things and a smith who can take them off if we have to. Right now I just want you to look for anything suspicious."

"Right, we'll keep searching." Gwen turned to her waiting fighters, "Let's go boys!"

Modryn glanced up at the sky, noticing how it was paling from inky black to pale blue. Dawn was coming and with its light he planned on finding the cavern where the slaves were kept.

"Tracker!" He called out, seeing the dark Argonian exit the house, "The s'wit say anything worth while yet?"

"Nah, he shut up right after you left." Tracker laughed, "I don't know who he's more afraid of, you or Dunk."

"Once we find what we need it won't matter if he never talks again, which would be doing the world a favor." Modryn said, "Do you think you can find your way back to that cavern?"

"Sure, the trail is still fresh." Tracker said, "Don't you want to wait for everyone else to come?"

"No, we might as well bring all the slaves back here. It's much easier to move forty slaves than to move all of us, the residents of the house and the guards." Modryn said, "The slaves will be probably be a bit more willing to go with us than the others."

"Ah, true, I didn't think of that." Tracker said, "Alright, so just the two of us?"

"Three! You are NOT leaving me behind!" Sorosi said, bounding up behind them.

"Three then." Modryn said, "Get bored looking around the house? Or did you find something?"

"Kirsten, Miles and Dangor don't need my help. They stumbled onto something that looks promising in an office but Dangor is having some problems with the lock. Seems it's pretty complex and he keeps breaking the picks. He might have to search for a key."

"Keys, keys, keys. It seems this place is built on keys." Tracker muttered.

"Then be happy I'm having you search for a cave and not a key." Modryn said, "Let's go."

XxXxXx

A/N: FINALLY I got this chapter finished!! I'm so sorry for the incredible wait but I must have re-done this chapter about 50 times…that and I'm planning, ah…future events. Plus, I've got a thing for assassins going and I started college…trust me the list goes on. But here it is, the end in sight!

-Vanillathunder215


	18. Nevano

Tracker led them west, out of the Great Forest and into the foothills of the Colovian Highlands. As they went along the sky lightened from pale blue to brilliant yellow, pink and orange. It gave them enough light to notice certain landmarks along the way to help find their way back, though they expected the slaves would know the way well enough, and Tracker seemed to have a pretty fair sense of where they were headed.

Finally, after what seemed hours, and the sky had faded from its brilliant dawn colors to clear blue, Tracker halted and pointed to a barely visible cave entrance between two hills.

"There, that's the place. Easier to see in the light." He said sounding quite pleased with himself.

Modryn approached cautiously, pulling his mace out. He had enough knowledge of slave owners to know that the more they went to hiding their slaves, the more heavily guarded they were. He expected several guards were inside; guards who were probably getting suspicious as to why no one had come for the slaves yet. They would be expecting trouble.

The key slid easily into the worn lock and clicked open, hardly making a sound, which seemed odd in a door so rusted and worn as this one. Modryn stepped in, closely followed by Sorosi. Five guards were standing ready just inside but as soon as they saw the Dunmer, they relaxed, smiled even and greeted them respectfully, going so far as to be proper (to a Dunmer at least) and call them "muthsera". Modryn was utterly, he had been expecting a fight, but as he suddenly realized that these guards could only see him and Sorosi, two Dunmer, and hadn't seen Tracker yet, it hit him; they thought they were the ones who supplied the slaves! Or at least arranged for the slaves to be delivered here. Modryn thought quickly; if they could play along for long enough, maybe they could get the information they needed to shut down the slave line.

"Ah, muthsera Andrano and mistress Drolora, how nice it is to see you again!" The biggest of the guards stepped forward. "We were beginning to worry that something might have happened to you during the last shipment."

"Shut up, fool!" Modryn snapped, inwardly disappointed at so common a last name, "You are only worried about your shipment nothing more. But I will admit; this one was a little tricky…took some time in getting him past the Imperial dogs without them noticing."

The guards sniggered, fully believing the lie. Modryn dared to hope that this might actually work. It would, as long as both Sorosi and Tracker went along, though he doubted Tracker would willingly play the part of slave.

"One slave! All this time and trouble and you bring only one slave?" the guard exclaimed, looking over Modryn's shoulder and seeing Tracker, "I thought the master had a deal for 6!"

"As I said, this one was a bit tricky." Modryn growled, "We can only bring them in one at a time. You're lucky to even get this one! We had to dress him up like a scout, even give him a weapon, of all things, just to avoid suspicion. He's the best of the lot. Just look at the muscle on him!"

Tracker, though a little irked about his role, was willing enough if it would mean freeing the slaves. Besides, he trusted Modryn fully to not have him "enslaved" for too long. Luckily for him, he happened to be wearing steel bracers, ones that looked enough like the slave bracers so they wouldn't arouse suspicion as long as no one looked close enough. He managed to slip one off before the guards noticed, making his disguise seem even more real.

"Well, he won't be needing this anymore." Sorosi said in her haughtiest voice, reaching over and pulling Tracker's short sword from his belt, giving him a quick apologetic look. "Well, he's all yours now."

"Not so fast." Modryn stopped them, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Where is your master? He wasn't at his villa when we stopped by there. We are not leaving here, nor leaving the slave here, until we get our payment."

The guards looked at one another, "Well, that's odd. He's always at the villa. Hey, calm down! We don't know what goes on there…we stay here most of the time." They said, trying to deflect the angry sparks flying from Modryn's eyes.

"He's been getting later and later in his payments. You aren't trying to undercut my business, are you?" Modryn bluffed.

"NO! No, we aren't doing anything of the sort, sera!" the guard said, "You are the only dealer in Cyrodiil, we undercut you and we lose all our trade! Here, you can even look at the ledger! See?"

Modryn's eyes lit up. Here was all the evidence they needed! It was time now to end the game. He looked at Sorosi and nodded. The guards, misunderstanding, breathed a sigh of relief, not noticing Sorosi discreetly slide Tracker's sword back into its sheath.

"I'm sorry, but this time I'm afraid we're going to have to change the deal a little bit." Sorosi said, thoroughly enjoying herself as she watched their expressions, "You see, we have no intention of giving you this so-called 'slave' here. Never did. Your master is currently tied up inside his own house babbling his head off like a drunken Bosmer and the whole property under Fighters Guild control. Now you have two choices; give up and we'll let you live for giving us so much wonderful information or, should you try to attack us, we'll remove your tongues for being snitches, head and all! So, boys, what'll it be?"

The guards looked at each other, back to the three fighters, who were suddenly armed and more than ready for a fight, and back to each other helplessly. First one, then the others removed their weapons and dropped them to the ground in surrender.

"Great!" Sorosi said bubbly, though slightly disappointed at the lack of fight, "I knew you'd see it my way! Now, where are the keys to these cells?"

"Wait, you're going to take the slaves?"

"Hardly." Modryn said, "But what we do is none of your business. Ah, here, Tracker, use these." He tossed a chain to Tracker, who smiled as he saw the manacles hanging off it every foot or so. Soon, he had his own little line of guards all chained and ready to go.

Sorosi was quick in finding the keys and she and Modryn, leaving Tracker to watch the guards, headed deeper into the cavern where the slaves were being held.

"By the nine!" Sorosi whispered as the torches became fewer and farther between, "This is worse than that contract you gave me once with the glowing slime filled cave full of rats!"

"Taught you were to put your feet, didn't it?" Modryn said with a rather evil smile.

"I was glowing for days!" she wailed, "And I _hate_ rats!"

"Oh hush and carry this." Modryn said, effectively silencing her as he shoved a torch into her hands. The cave wound on and on, getting colder as they went deeper underground. Had their blood not been pumping as hard as it was, they would have started to shiver, but at the moment it simply felt good on their over-heated skin. Finally, they came to an iron door that, like the cavern door, seemed too worn and rusted to work at all, but the key slid in without a problem and the door swung open almost without a sound. As they moved through the door, their torchlight caught the glint of metal bars and flashing eyes.

"Are there any more torches in here?" Sorosi asked.

"There are several along the walls, dark elf." A man's scathing voice cut through the darkness, "Come on, you've been here before!"

"Do we really look like those slave runners or do we all just look alike to them?" Sorosi asked Modryn.

"You're…you're not those…" came another voice hesitantly.

"No, we're Fighters Guild and as soon as we can see, we can let you out, now where are those torches?" Modryn asked.

"There's one to the left and another to the right of the door you just came through and two more at the very back of the room, even with the first two." Came the first man's voice.

Quickly the two Dunmer lit the torches and got their first look at the room. Both had to struggle to keep from showing their shock and disgust. The cells were more like cages and held nothing more than the bare rock for their occupants. The slaves themselves had nothing to keep warm with and huddled as close to their neighbor as they could to keep warm. Even the worst prisons in Elsweyr were a bit more luxurious than this. Quickly they ran around, unlocking the cages as fast as they could.

"Look, we could only find the keys to the caverns…we haven't found the bracer keys yet." Modryn explained as he found himself surrounded by slaves shoving bracers in his face as they begged him to set the free, "But the rest of us are still searching the villa. If you come back with us, they'll hopefully have found it."

"Or Modryn will beat the location out of Vi…Vict…no, Vec, oh, that babbling sot!" Sorosi said.

"What if you can't find it?" one voice called out frantically, "I don't want to wear these forever!"

"You won't, I can promise you that." Modryn said, "Sorosi, can you take them back up? I just want to make sure I didn't miss anyone."

"You got it!" she called cheerfully, "Alright, let's go! Tracker is probably bored to death waiting with those idiot guards…or having fun threatening to eat them, one of the two…"

Modryn shook his head listening to Sorosi amuse everyone with her non-stop chatter. He had to admit; she was entertaining at times with that quick wit of hers. Right now though, she was doing a great job soothing all the slaves shattered nerves.

Modryn turned to his task at hand and walked through the room, checking to make sure they hadn't missed anyone who might have been pushed in the back or was asleep…or unconscious. He even checked twice just to be sure. Finally, satisfied, he turned to leave when something caught his eye. He moved closer and saw that it was another cage, hidden between two rocks. He somehow doubted that this cage held a person as its ceiling barely reached his waist but he felt he had to check.

"By Azura…" he whispered. There _was_ a person in there, a child to be exact, and he wasn't moving. Modryn's hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't get the key into the lock. Finally he threw the keys away with a curse and slammed his mace into the lock, noticing that it actually worked better than the key. Modryn yanked the door open but was slower to reach out to the child, afraid of what he might find. To his ultimate relief he felt the child move, not much, but he moved enough to let Modryn know he was still alive. Modryn tried to get a good look at the child, but it was too dark within the cage. However, roused by the unexpected touch, the child lolled his head and slitted his eyes open briefly before shutting them again, allowing Modryn to catch a glimpse of gold colored eyes. An Altmer child, maybe? Modryn thought. He knew it wasn't Khajiit, he hadn't felt any fur. Yet the child blended with the dark too well…

Carefully Modryn reached in and pulled the child out. Whether it was from injuries, illness, exhaustion or just plain despair the child made no protest as strange hands pulled him from his miserable prison. Modryn nearly swallowed his tongue in astonishment. The child was a Dunmer! But those yellow eyes…no Dunmer had had any other eye color but red, not since the days of the Chimer when their eyes had been…gold.

The child opened his eyes again, more fully this time, and locked eyes with the older Dunmer, giving him a full view of those odd eyes. Yes, they were gold all right and, despite the misery in them, there was a small spark there that suggested an inextinguishable spirit. This child should be dead, but he was still fighting to survive.

"Let's get you out of here first, then see what will be done with you." Modryn said softly.

The child sighed and closed his eyes again. Whatever was to happen to him now, it had to be better than what he had just endured.

XxXxXx

The other slaves were rather astonished to see the young child again. They hadn't seen him in a while; some had thought he had died a long while back, some thought the master was keeping him at the house while others thought he had run away, whether he had made it or had gotten killed was a mystery. But they had had no idea that he had been with them, in the same room, the whole time.

Modryn couldn't fault them. They had had enough to worry about and he himself had only seen the cage on a stroke of luck and he had been actively searching for something like this. There was no way the other slaves could have seen it from their cells.

"In case your curious," an older Argonian woman said, "his name is Nevano, though I don't believe that's his real name. Only one he's got now and he hasn't given us another name, if he speaks at all. When he does though, watch out! He's got a tongue sharper than a clannfear's claws."

"That's what got him in trouble in the first place." One of the guards said sullenly, "He had a real nasty attitude and always back-talked, though I never know what he's saying. Finally he started to spit and bite along with that nasty tongue and he finally bit the master one-day. So he's been in that cage ever since. That was under orders. The cage even had a different key."

Modryn kept his smile to himself. So this kid, Nevano, did have spirit. "You didn't understand him?"

"He doesn't speak common tongue. Speaks some sort of gibberish but I know some words like n'wah, s'wit and fetcher."

"He was speaking in the tongue of the Ashlanders, which is probably why he is a slave in the first place." Modryn said, "He probably speaks common tongue well enough but just never let these fetchers know. Am I right?"

Several of the slaves smiled and nodded.

XxXxXx

It was around midday when they finally got back to the main villa. By now several Imperial legion troopers, who volunteered to take the freed slaves to the Imperial City, had joined them. Dangor finally got the lock open in the office and found more evidence of slave smuggling. The freed slaves had a blast watching their former masters be tied up in lines, but kept their dignity.

It was over, with relatively little bloodshed. Everything was now out of the Fighters Guild hand's, which preferred to leave the political side of the slave smuggling ring to the Imperials. If they couldn't just run in and start killing, what was the point?

Gwen came up to Modryn who was still holding the child, "So you gonna keep that kid or something?"

"This one is a fighter." Modryn said, "You can see it in his eyes."

"Kid could end up being a hopeless flop and you would still say that." Gwen teased, "Face it, this kid has sunk his claws in you."

Modryn eyed her sideways but didn't answer. He didn't have to for Nevano opened his eyes and looked at Gwen who gasped when struck by that gold-eyed gaze.

"Ok, I take that back." She said, looking deep into the boy's eyes, "Oh yeah, there's a spark there, as well as an attitude. We'll have our hands full with this little one. Well then, Nevano, welcome to the Fighters Guild."

Nevano gave her a tiny smile before falling back asleep. He was comfortable in Modryn's arms, something he hadn't felt in…how long had it been? Time meant nothing to a slave. One day blended with the next in the never-ending stream of backbreaking work, cruel masters and unbearable conditions. One could barely even dream of freedom.

But, luckily for Nevano, that dream had come true. For the golden-eyed Dunmer child, life was no longer a cruel joke. He was allowed to laugh, to play, to dream, to _live_, again. He was one of the few special ones to live to see the end of his days not as a slave, but free, and one the even fewer special ones to already have a new life waiting for him.

No one truly knew yet just how special this child truly was.

~END~

A/N: And that concludes this story. First off, I'd like to thank everyone whose reviewed and helped me along the way. I couldn't have done this without yall! Secondly, don't think for a second that this is the actual end. Nevano still has his own part to play. I'm actually going to make this a series, which was probably why I've taken so long to post…I was planning the future out and making the ending of DD fit with that. Stay tuned in the future…Modryn, Nevano and others will be back soon!

-Vanillathunder215


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