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The Beginning of An Era


Silverblade5

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Gentle wind blew from the east, bringing the smell of Ash from Morrowwind, the smell of the Snow from the Throat of the Throat of the world... and smell of freshly shed blood.

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Aranea finished her dawn worship, praying to Azura once again to bless this shrine. The people of Skyrim did not worship Azura as they should, there hadn't been a single shrine or temple here when she'd fled from Morrowind.

So she'd toiled for months, purchasing fine stone and learning how to carve it, dedicating an hour every dawn and dusk to her prayers.

She was nearly finished now, the basic shape of the Queen of the night sky was already formed, only the finer details were left now. She let the visions she occasionally felt during her prayers guide her hands, forming the correct image with her tools. The shape of her mistress taking fuller form from her devotion.

"I hope you will be pleased." Aranea said as she began the days carving.

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Grihff Madhart, known through whispers and rumors as The White Shade of The Pale, traveled silently throughout the forests of The Rift. He had just finished up some business in Riften, and was currently traveling back to Dawnstar. He was proud of the progress that the Thieves Guild had been making, all while maintaining their air of secrecy. Most still believed that the Thieves Guild was a rumor. But if the Thieves Guild were only rumors, than what Grihff was is no more than a fairy tale.

 

Grihff was a Nightingale. One of the three most elite thieves in all of Skyrim. For all the realm knew, they didn't exist. They were a myth to scare rookies into doing what they were told. Grihff and two others had taken an oath to serve their Lady Nocturnal. He was bound to the Night Mistress for eternity, even after death he would guard the Twilight Sepulcher until Nocturnal was satisfied with his service. In return, Grihff was granted the power of shadow and darkness.

 

Grihff treked through the night, cautious of the dangers the wildlife presented. Ever since Grihff had slain a dragon some time ago, he had to be on alert at all times. 

 

Normally members of the Thieves Guild never killed, at least while on the job. Grihff was delighted to discover that Nightingales were exceptions to that rule. When Lady Nocturnal deemed it necessary, Grihff was given passage to eliminate those in his way. That didn't mean leave a trail of bodies in his wake, that would only serve to attract unwanted attention. But when blood needed to be spilled, Grihff was happy to oblige.  

 

The White Shade of The Pale heard the faint roar of a dragon circling the mountains of The Rift. Damnation, that's the last thing I need. Although Grihff had slain the dragon months ago, the creatures tended to hold grudges. The arrogant bastards had set a bounty on him, although all attempts on his life had ended in utter failure. Most couldn't even find him, and those skilled enough to track him were struck down by his magic. Not only was Grihff one of the most skilled thieves in Skyrim, but also one of the deadliest mages. 

 

Dawn started to appear over the horizon. Grihff had plenty of energy left, but that dragon sounded close. He could probably avoid it, even in broad daylight. Invisibility wasn't hard for him to pull off. If it came down to it, Grihff might be able to hold his own against a dragon. But that was a fight that Grihff didn't want, or need, to come. He wasn't in a hurry, best play it safe. 

 

Fortune was, as it normally was, on his side. The silhouette of a watchtower approached, a fine place for Grihff to camp out. Unfortunately, it appeared occupied by a handful of bandits. They didn't appear to be moving anytime soon, so Grihff supposed he'd have to remove them on his own. He didn't want them to escape only to spread rumors of his whereabouts, so they would have to perish. He hoped Nocturnal didn't mind.

 

Two bandits stood outside the small watchtower, keeping guard. Grihff remembered the dragon circling overhead. He couldn't make a spectacle, lest the dragon turn his attention to where he lay hidden. Spectral weapons it is. 

 

He summoned a bound bow, and let off two spectral arrows in the blink of an eye. Both bandits dropped before either could react. He dispelled the bow as he approached the tower, it wouldn't be much use in close corridors. He cast Detect Life, and saw five separate red mists occupying the tower. He dragged the bodies out of sight, he'd take care of them later.

 

He stepped inside, warmth from a fireplace overcoming him. Two bandits sat at a table on the bottom level of the tower. He wanted to remove these two quietly, but now that he was indoors, out of the dragons sight, he could afford to have a bit of fun. He used telekinesis, and pulled a fork off of the table, towards the open door, where Grihff crouched behind some crates a few paces in front of.

 

One of the bandits stood up in fright. "You saw that, right?"       

 

"Probably just the wind. Go close that door, and tell those two fools outside to keep it shut!" 

 

The bandit approached cautiously. The other had turned his attention back to the cheap mead on the table. A bound dagger appeared in Grihff's hand, and a moment later the blade plunged into the guards heart. He quickly pulled the corpse behind cover before the drunk bandit noticed anything suspicious.

 

Now, how to get that one? He knew that he couldn't play the same trick twice. Instead, he cast Muffle, which made his footsteps incredibly quiet. He cast Invisibility, and slowly walked to where the guard drank. He didn't hear or see The White Shade of The Pale coming. His throat bled scarlet waterfalls a moment later.

 

Three left upstairs, Chain Lightning should do the trick. He dispelled his invisibility and bound dagger as he slowly ascended the stairs, black cloak fluttering behind him. He opened the door, and three faces turned towards him, a mask of terror covering their face. Grihff cast Chain Lightning, and the bolt struck a bandit in the chest, disintegrating him instantly. The bolt bounced to the other two bandits, and they fell into piles of ash before they could even scream for help. He gathered up the ash, and cast the grey flakes into the wind. He disintegrated the other bodies as well, but not before taking any valuables they had on them. He then cast them out into the morning breeze as well, leaving behind any trace of his work. 

 

Grihff removed his hood, and caught a brief glance of himself in a mirror. Pure white hair, and glowing white eyes. These were what gave The White Shade of The Pale his name. He gazed out the window as the sun rose. He said a quick prayer to Azura, the Daedric Prince of Dusk and Dawn. Nocturnal didn't seem to mind who he worshiped, as long as his main loyalties lay with her. He took one last look outside, hoping to get a glimpse of the dragon who circled the mountains of The Rift. He didn't see the beast, however.

 

Relieved, Grihff sat down to rest.  

Edited by Patar
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As Siris was traveling, he thought he could see something in distance. By Azura, he thought, is that a shrine? Siris was very surprised, as Skyrim had a disturbingly high lack of faith. Excitedly, he picked his pace.

 

As he drew closer, he saw that he had been correct, it was a shrine. However, it was very apparent that it was still in the early stages of development. When he arrived, he quickly began searching for whoever it was that was constructing it, hoping he'd be able too lend a hand.

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Aranea threw the fish into the air, catching it as it fell. She'd only managed to catch a couple of salmon this morning but it would do for the days meals with the bread and cheese she already carried.

Building close to the lake had been a choice she'd made mostly due to the way the lake reflected the twilight sky, reminding her always of her mistresses dual nature. But she was also glad she'd made the choice for practical reasons. Having a source of both food and water nearby meant she didn't need to travel very far, she only needed to stop into towns on occasion to that which she couldn't forage for herself. This way she could dedicate herself to her work.

It was on her way back, the salmon tied together and held by one hand that she saw another figure, humanoid.

One hand lowered suspiciously to her waist where she kept her dagger, it was rare that she saw people wandering the wilderness like this, but not unheard of.

When she noticed that the figure was another dunmer her suspicion went up a few notches. She had not exactly left Morrowind on good terms with the Morag Tong.

She approached openly, sneaking or running would not help her against an assassin and the fact that she'd seen them at all went a long way towards allaying her fears.

"Greetings traveller. What brings you to Azuras shrine?" She asked as she stepped up to the man, seizing him up with her gaze.

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Siris was beginning to grow frustrated. He'd been searching for two hours, and hadn't found anyone. Right as he's been preparing to light a fire and try simply waiting, he heard a voice.

 

"Greetings traveller. What brings you to Azura's shrine?" Turning, he saw a dunmer woman about five feet away.

 

"Is this your work? Even now, unfinished, it looks amazing. When I was walking along the road, I saw it in the distance. I'd originally been planning to wait until dusk and pray here, but instead, I'm now wondering if you'd like any assistance."

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     What are these crystals that fall from the sky? Ma’tesh wondered, for the millionth time since crossing into Skyrim. He didn’t have time to research them, though, as the item he was looking for would soon be gone. Few people would dare steal it.

 

     He looked across Lake Ilinalta. The sun glinted off of it, blinding him, but after a second, looked across the land. It was beautiful. All the lands were, in their own way. Even Morrowind and the Black Marshes.

 

     M’rasier nudged him to get up, and go forward, towards the city in the pass. He forgot what it was called. Of course. The one they had built the Labyrinth in. Famous place, that.

 

     “I want to rest a bit more, M’rasier. Not everyone can hop on their traveling companion to rest.”

 

     M’rasier meowed. Too bad he can’t talk ,Ma’tesh thought to himself. Maybe I could get a Dragon Preist to enchant something for him…No, that wouldn’t work. Not after what he would do.

~| |~

     He stopped thinking on those lines as a hooded man came up the slope towards him.

 

     As Raskeethus wandered into Skyrim, he couldn’t think of how a Hist tree could live in this weather. It was so darn cold.

 

     He saw a dragon pass overhead. Prideful n’wahs. He thought for a second where he picked that expression, but decided it didn’t matter. The dragons would never be respected by a true Argonian. They would stay loyal to the Hist, and anything that tried to get in the way of the Hist, or burn a tree down, would suffer the wrath of the Argonian Priesthood, and be skinned alive to make their robes.

 

     He glanced up the hill, and saw a cat-like being he had never seen before. From the south somewhere, then.

 

     “Hello! From where do you hail?” Raskeethus called. Perhaps he knew of the Hist tree.

 

     “Who are you, and what do you want? If you’re a Dragon Priest, go away!” Raskeethus saw a golden cat next to him.

 

     “If you wish to stay alive in Skyrim, don’t talk to a Dragon Priest like that. He’d blow you apart. And no, I am a servant of the Hist. I was wondering if you knew anything of where one such tree was?”

 

     “No, I don’t even know what a Hist is! Now go AWAY!”

 

     Raskeethus sighed. He’d find it eventually. He headed west, towards Ilinalta.

~| |~

    Ma’tesh watched the priest leave. He was powerful; few could slay a dragon, even with allies. He would have to stay clear of him. He headed east instead of north, around the Throat of the World. Towards the Rift.

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Grihff left the tower a few hours later.

 

He had enough rest, and he was ready to continue his journey. He hadn't heard the dragon in some time, hopefully it had either moved on or landed somewhere far away. He gathered what few things he had, threw on his dark black cloak, and went on his way. 

 

He kept one eye to the sky as he traveled. He knew the dragons hadn't forgotten what he'd done. Though it was done out of self-defense, the dragons still viewed Grihff as a murderer, who slayed one of their own number in cold blood. The fact that Grihff had defeated a dragon left the rulers of Skyrim nervous, although they were to prideful to admit it. Here was a man nobody knew anything about, had incredible skills with magic, and defeated a dragon on his own. He hoped that with time, the dragons would forget about the incident, and he could fade back into mystery, though somehow he doubted that would happen.

 

If he was being honest though, the battle had been close. After the dragon fell dead, Grihff had fallen as well, exhausted, out of energy, bleeding on the cold, hard ground. He had truly believed his time guarding the Twilight Sepulcher was about to begin. 

 

But I didn't die, he thought, as he neared Lake Geir. He briefly wondered if he should suspend his trip to his home city of Dawnstar. It might be nice to simply wander-

 

Grihff stopped.

 

Voices.

 

He crouched and snuck behind a cluster of bushes. Two dunmer stood by what looked to be an unfinished shrine. And an impressive one, at that. Did these two make that all on their own? 

 

Grihff was curious, but he couldn't have anybody seeing him, lest they recognize him and perhaps attempt to claim the bounty that was on his head. But he really wanted to know what that shrine was, and why the dunmer were building it. Grihff had been moving silently in the woods, it didn't appear that they had heard him. He cast muffle just to be safe, threw on his hood, and turned invisible. He then approached where the two stood, slowly, to eavesdrop, and hopefully discover what in the hell that shrine was for. 

Edited by Patar
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Aranea started in surprise. Assistance? A wandering adventurer who happened to be a worshipper of Azura and was devout enough to want to help her shrine?

Well he was a fellow Dunmer, it wouldn't be impossible, and he showed no hostility to her whatsoever.

Just then something caught at the edges of her vision, a faint warping in the air. A ring on one of her fingers had been given an enchantment for detecting the presence of others, a necessity in her previous line of work and perhaps even more useful now.

Her regular vision couldn't pick up anything and even her sharp ears hadn't picked up the sound of anyone. That meant illusion magic, and the only people who had any reason to resort to that while sneaking up on her...

Her gaze flicked back to the Dunmer who seemed unaware of the other presence. Was he part of the trap? The bait to lure her in and distract her? But why move into her field of vision? A Morag Tong assassin would have to know she could detect them.

She kept her posture still, not moving to the attack though her instincts urged her to pull her dagger free and attack them both. But she didn't kill without reason, until she was sure it was best to simply watch.

"Assistance?" She replied, attempting to adopt a thoughtful tone. "Azura's blessings upon such helpful travellers. I must admit that I am not accustomed to stonework, do you have any experience as a craftsman yourself? I could not turn away skilled hands. I don't have much to offer other than what food I can track or catch."

Holding up the freshly caught salmon she examined the Dunmer further, his build wasn't exactly that of an assassin, one couldn't always tell by such things but this looked more like the sturdy build of a warrior than the lithe build of a rogue.

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"I am. Used to freelance as a blacksmith. Why I was originally traveling actually. Was looking for work." Just then, Siris saw the woman tense. "What's wrong? Trouble?" Quickly casting detect life and clairvoyance, Siris looked around, but only saw mudcrabs. If anyone was there, he couldn't see them.

 

 

 

Beneath his mask, Ausar smiled. When he had first received the news, he had been furious. Not only had the Breton killed one of the lords, but had also desecrated the corpse, taking the bones and scales and wearing them like a trophy. For the past week, he'd been perusing him, always being a step behind. But now, the fool had given away his location, and he would soon die. Then, a proper burial mound would be formed.

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A mage and a blacksmith? Not the most common of breeds but then the Dunmer did tend to mix physical and magical talents. Still, the reaction at least told Aranea that the Dunmer wasn't working with the spy.

"Not sure." She replied before raising her voice. "Why don't you stop hiding so we can chat?"

She kept her hand close to her dagger just in case, she wasn't exactly equipped for an open battle, but she was a skilled mage, a master of the arts of destruction magic. She didn't need weapons to kill.

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"Why don't you stop hiding so we can chat?"

 

Ah, so she had seen me. He had noticed her shoot a quick glance towards where he stood as he approached. He noticed the enchantments she had on her jewelry, one of them must have been infused with detect life. Smart. Grihff really didn't want to have to fight, he had only approached out of curiosity. He had been careless. At least she didn't immediately attack him, and was willing to talk. She seemed cautious, careful. Grihff was willing to guess that she wanted to fight as little as he did. The hand that hovered where her dagger lay sheathed indicated that she was ready to fight if it came to it.

 

What worried him more was the man near her. While the two seemed to have just met, he tensed when he asked if there was trouble. Keep a careful eye on both of them. One or both of them may be tracking me. 

 

If it came to a fight, Grihff was more than prepared. No need to be the aggressor. He considered casting Calm on the both of them, but he had the feeling they would notice the effects, and question why he would feel the need to cast Calm on them. Well, let's see how this goes.

 

Keeping his hood up, he made himself visible. "Good evening to the both of you."   

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Rogar Wolfsbane silently stalked the snowy night time woods in the northern reaches of the Pale. He had seen evidence of a small group of cultists about a week ago and had been tracking them since. The first night that he had caught up with them they were very cautious, guards were posted and took turns every three hours without torches. Not long enough for the watchers to get tired and complacent and without torches their night vision would be very good. A very hard target, he would have to fix that. Time would take care of most of the problems but he would have to expedite the process.

 

It only took three days for the shifts to extend to only one switch around midnight and another four days until the small sounds that Rogar made around camp drove them to light torches out of fear.

 

On the ninth night Rogar struck. It was an hour before shift change when the hunter dumped his wolf furs and stalked up to the camp, silently moving past the two blinded guards. He slipped pass the line of pack horses, careful not to startle them. In the main tent slept the acolyte on an actual bed, spoiled bastard. 

 

Rogar drew Vulfsfang from his its sheath, whispered an oath to his fallen family before driving the long blade through the sleeping man's throat into the padding of the bed. The acolyte's eyes shot open in surprise for a brief moment before the light in them went out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ten minutes later, four horses were roaming the woods near the now burning camp outlining the Hunter as he threw his pelts back on and melted into the night, in search of his next target. He felt as though he needed to travel to the Reach, he didn't know why but his ancestors did and he trusted their guidance.

Edited by BreathTaker
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Arden finished cutting the hide from a goat. It wasn't burnt- fire spells seemed to not cause much damage to skin or flesh. Something to do with the nature of magic he figured.

He had already prayed twice today. First to all gods, then to the Fox for it's blessing.

After cutting up the goat and putting the hide out to dry he went back inside his tent to pray to the Fox again.

Edited by ChickenPlague
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The figure dispelled its illusion, allowing them to be seen clearly, a cloaked and hooded figure it stood up before greeting them in a male voice.

"Good evening to the both of you."

"And to you." She replied sarcastically. "Just out for an invisible stroll? Or are you here to worship the lady of twilight as well?"

He at least showed no open hostility so she dropped her arm to her side again.

"Well regardless I believe introductions are in order. I am called Aranea, a priestess of Azura and the one building and dedicating this shrine."

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"A pleasure to meet you Aranea, Siris. My name is Verioc. I apologize for approaching you in such a manner, I was simply curious as to what you were constructing. I can assure you I mean no ill-intent." Grihff studied them as he spoke. The man, Siris, claimed he could decipher when he was lying. He very well could be able to. He looks like a smart fellow. But Grihff had a very liberal interpretation of the truth, he had gone by the name Verioc some years ago on a job in Whiterun.

 

He considered the woman, Aranea. She built this all on her own? Impressive. But the way she carried herself stuck out to Grihff. She was rightfully distrustful of him, he couldn't blame her for that. But she seemed careful around Siris as well. Was she just distrustful of strangers?

 

Or was it because he was another dunmer?

 

The dunmer were not smiled on in Skyrim. They often kept to themselves, keeping company with other members of their own race. So why would she be worried about a member of her own race, unless she was on the run from them? He was willing to bet she knew how to use that dagger, and those enchantments gave the impression that she was skilled in some schools of magic.

 

Grihff chuckled, he would need to keep a wary eye on both of them, but he was relieved that this encounter would not usher conflict. "That is a shrine to Azura, is it? Very impressive. I would be glad to pray with you, if you'd have me. After that I'll likely be on my way."   

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Aranea glanced at the blacksmith, Siris. To be able to detect a lie, that either meant a very experienced liar themselves or else some new kind of magic. It wasn't impossible she supposed, but to be on the cutting edge of such new magic...

Of course it was also possible that the claim was itself a lie. Still, she had nothing to hide, not from these people anyway.

"Dusk lies some hours away yet." Aranea said. "The time of twilight is the most suitable to pay respects to Azura. But I a sure she will be pleased with your prayers at any hour if you have urgent business you need to be about."

If the two could be believed then this was indeed just a chance meeting, two travelers who respected the lord of Moonshadow and were curious about the shrine. Still, one could never trust someone who was skulking about cloaked in illusion magic, Aranea should know, she'd spent half her life doing just that.

"Of course if you'd like to stay I do have some freshly caught salmon from the lake."

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Well, I suppose it would be rude of me to turn down a meal. Grihff knew these two were suspicious of him, but it at least appeared things would progress peacefully. He doubted the two of them knew who he was. They both appeared new to Skyrim, so they might not have heard the rumors of The White Shade of The Pale, and the things he had done. Even if they did know who he was, he doubted they would attempt to capture him. If Aranea was trying to hide from someone, as he suspected, she wouldn't want to bring unnecessary attention to herself.

 

"I'm grateful for the offer of a fresh meal. I'd be happy to rest a while."

 

The food will be poisoned, the paranoid side of him whispered. But Grihff doubted that. Aranea couldn't have possibly known he'd be coming this way, and have time to prepare. No, Grihff thought. She's dangerous, to be sure. But I truly believe she is simply trying to be at peace and worship Azura. He relaxed a bit, but didn't let his guard down. 

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A new wind arose, in the far north, in the sea of ghosts and howled with all the rage of the northern lands...it crashed down on the coast, hitting the Archmage unaware at the topmost tower of her academy and disturbing her carefully arranged long hair, whistled up the stone walls behind Winterhold, and embraced the three figures below the enormous shrine with its gentle, chilling arms. The wind whispered thre words in their ears, so silent, it felt almost like a ghost's voice "Nessa Double-Sword"

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Aranea walked over to the fire that Siris had begun to set up, waving her hands over the logs. A fire sprang up, burning cheerfully and warming the air.

She set to work scaling the fish as the fire built up, having already gutted them and looked over at the other two.

"So, Verioc. What brings you here?" She asked, somewhat less suspiciously than she had before.

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So, she has a fair understanding of destruction magic, I see. He was grateful that she seemed more at ease, and he sat down next to the fire, which burned warm against the cool, evening air. Really hope she doesn't ask me to remove my hood, Grihff thought. If only there was a spell that altered my appearance. His noticeable features helped him become a legend, but they also cursed him by ensuring he would always stand out in a crowd.

 

"I'm on my way to Windhelm, I have an old friend there I haven't seen in quite some time. I was wandering through the woods, and your shrine caught my eye. I do apologize for sneaking up on you, but one can never be to careful in these dangerous times." He eyed her as she prepared the food. ​Stop being oversuspicious. She isn't going to poison it.

 

He took a quick look at Siris. He was observing the lake, admiring the beautiful view. And it is a beautiful view. Aranea chose this spot well. Grihff looked at Aranea. He wanted to confirm his suspicions. He whispered in a comforting, understanding tone. "And you know all about being careful, don't you?"     

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As Areana was cooking the salmon, Siris began inspecting the shrine. While the basic shape was accurate, it was also crude. Instead of being smooth and graceful,  it was jagged, and rough. She probably thought to melt down certain areas then, carve them out, and then cool them with frost, he thought. What she forgot to do was file down the rough edges before cooling. I'm probably going to have to heat it back up before I can smooth them out. Of course, if I could enchant a dagger with a burn enchantment, that would definitely  speed up the process. During his inspection, Siris couldn't help but gaze out at the lake. Areana had definitely chosen the location well. It put her close to resources while brilliantly reflecting the dusk and dawn skies. Turning away from the lake and towards Areana, he asked, "Do you by any chance have a dagger with a fire enchantment? If not, do you have any filled soul gems?"

Edited by Silverblade5
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Aranea watched Verioc with a slightly exasperated look as he claimed to sneak up on them out of simple caution. That might be a common practice for someone who was cautious, if that person also happened to be an assassin or a thief.

He watched her hands as she continued to prepare the food, either curious or cautious, she wasn't sure.

 "And you know all about being careful, don't you?" He whispered.

She stiffened for a moment before looking at his still-hooded face. She almost reached for the powers of Oblivion, tempted to summon a winged twilight and attack him immediately.

But no, he was being annoying, not aggressive.

"Those who are not careful seldom last long when they explore the powers of Daedra." She replied simply.

Siris interrupted the two as he examined her shrine, seeming completely absorbed in his study of it.


"Do you by any chance have a dagger with a fire enchantment? If not, do you have any filled soul gems?"

She smiled, pulling the dagger at her waist free with one hand. She flipped it in her hand, offering the hilt to the blacksmith.

"I find it helps with slicing them open." She said, still smiling. "The fish that is."

She rubbed some salt and seasoning into the pink flesh of one of the fish before holding it over the flames, grilling it lightly.

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