Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - Orsimer Descending

Chapter 1: Orsimer Charge
Arlas burst into the infirmary, slamming her stick-like forearms into the doors and gasping as they opened, with a loud ‘bang.’ The Bosmer did not appreciate having to wear these priest’s robes in the heat, air didn’t circulate inside them and it made rushing from one part of town to another feel like some sort of test.

If this is some sort of test, then the young initiate has failed it, horribly… Not that it’s her fault of course, the heat was the to blame as well as the dozens of clueless twits in the market district, shuffling about like cattle being lead to greener pastures. She still did all that she could and didn’t even stop to help that merchant pick up his merchandise, after she was knocked into his stall. She left him there, screaming about his precious cabbages, so that she could attend her spiritual duties. She just hoped that it was something worthy of her time. If it was just one of the older priests, needing someone to run over to the tobacco stall for him, then she would quite happily strip off, throw her robes in the old geezer’s face and then march out and join a daedric cult out of spite. She’d sacrifice virgins and eat babies and then the priests would think twice about sending their initiates out to do pointless, meaningless tasks and wasting their time, by asking them to stand about and do nothing for the best part of twenty minutes.

The Bosmer, in spite of the fact that she was doubting as to whether or not this was worth her time or not, continued to press on to heed the call of her superior. She pushed through the tight corridors of the infirmary, pressing herself against the walls and sliding along them as others tried to pass. She didn’t want to stop but she also didn’t want to force them to stand aside. Thankfully, due to her small stature, she didn’t have to do either…

After running up a flight of stairs, she finally burst into the room and immediately doubled over, panting heavily as she placed her hands on her knees, several of the breaths sounded like heaves as she did not take well to exercise.

The Priest, who had summoned her, an elderly Imperial man slowly turned around and sighed as he stood up before he slowly approached the young Bosmer, keeping his arms tucked into his sleeves and his composure was immaculate, it was as if he was doing it just to spite Arlas.

“Arlas…” He began, though he was cut off as the Bosmer raised her hand in front of her face and quickly threw her head back, knocking her hood off of her head. She appeared to have her hair done in a Mohawk style, which was braided on the back of her head into three strands of platted hair. The Bosmer looked up, with her red eyes and incredibly red face as she caught her breath, still holding her hand up to pause the routine scolding.

“Market stalls…” She explained in one breathless word as she felt her vision began to dim, most would take it as a sign that she needed to do more exercise but she took it as a sign that she needed to rip the sleeves off of her robes and that the Priests needed to give her more notice.

“Yes, the bane of apprentices everywhere…” The Imperial mocked, placing his hands in his large sleeves again as he looked down on the Bosmeri apprentice, wondering what they would do with her. Arlas, for her oddness and unorthodox attitude, was actually a gifted healer and a great spell caster. She favoured conjuration, saying that she ‘liked that weird shit,’ a comment that was swiftly responded to with a whack on the knuckles, with a ruler. Still, the enthusiasm was appreciated…

“Well, I’m afraid that I no longer require your talents, I was forced to deal with the situation myself.” The Imperial explained, prompting Arlas’ eyes to widen as she almost blew her lid. Don’t they have messenger birds, couldn’t someone have greeted her at the door? The Bosmer wanted to yell or get stripping…

However, the Bosmer remembered where she was and the sting of the ruler and quickly simmered down…

“Erm… Sorry, I did come as quick as I could, Father Lorius, I swear…” She replied, sounding somewhat guilty for it as she began to rub the back of her neck and her eyes slowly trailed away towards the floor.

“Fear not… I wouldn’t have asked but it was short notice, incredibly so…”

“Hmm?” Arlas asked, looking a little confused and more so intrigued.

“What happened?”

The Priest gave her a respectful nod and slowly stepped aside, sliding his hand from out of his sleeve and gesturing towards the bed, which was heavily stained with blood, from where its sole occupant had bled out. She timidly approached and saw that the patient was an Orsimer, a giant, mountain of a man, who appeared to be missing his hand...

“G-Gods…” Arlas whispered, looking back to Father Lorius for an explanation, it was clear that the stump had been cauterized before being healed and now they just had to wait for him to wake…

“He stumbled in here, less than an hour ago, with no hand…” He began to explain, slowly approaching as he he stood by the tower’s bedside.

“From the looks of it, it was a pretty clean cut, maybe from an axe or a piece of machinery, like a forge?” The Imperial thought on it, it was possible that he was a blacksmith or something, and ended up cutting his own hand off with a piece of machinery. Though, nobody here recognised him, which kind of debunked that theory, since most of the priests knew the local merchants well. He was more likely a mercenary but surely the guards would have intervened in such a high stake fight.

“Hmm… Maybe he was an arena contestant?” Arlas suggested which also seemed pretty logical to her, though, then again the arena fights are to the death and they probably have their own medical staff on standby or they would at least send for the Priests at the temple. They wouldn’t just let someone wander out, with one hand, would they?

“Hmm… Possibly? I admit, I’m somewhat curious as to how it happened myself…

It was either a nasty accident or a fight and looking at the size of the man and his… Other scars, I can’t help but make my assumptions…”

Arlas nodded, respectfully and turned back to the charge, examining his face, in the hopes of getting more clues. He was in his twenties or thirties, it was hard to tell as he looked quite weathered and his beard obscured most of his face. He had his hair done in a corn row style, with a large bushy, black goatee beard… He looked like he could crush someone her size in the palm of his hand, whoever did this to him either got lucky or was an even bigger hulk than he was…

“Did he say anything before he passed out?” Arlas asked, folding her arms as she observed the sleeping Orc, who seemed almost lifeless and his breath grew heavier and heavier. Father Lorius slowly reached for his eyes as she observed and shook his head; it was obvious that all of that healing magic had taken its toll on him…

“Arlas? Do you think that you could watch over him for a bit? My mind isn’t what it used to be and… Well, I’d prefer to go to sleep, knowing that he’s in good hands.”

The Bosmer was surprised at the compliment, though he was most likely trying to butter her up, so that she’d agree to it but still, she knew that the words weren’t exactly hollow and empty. She eventually nodded in agreement, seemingly happy at the fact that she was given some form of responsibility. She could catch up on her reading and… Well…

This room was a lot cooler than it was outside, thanks to the breeze blowing in, through the open window.

“Erm… Sure thing, Lorius, I have some reading to do anyway…” She shrugged, giving him a smile as she took a seat in the corner of the room, crossing one leg over the other as she drew out her book.

The Elder Imperial Priest smiled at her and gave her a respectful nod, relieved that he would be able to get some rest for an hour or two and hopefully by able to get back before the giant wakes up…

“Oh… Alas?” He asked pausing to turn around; this got the Bosmer’s attention and prompted her to lower her book, glancing up to the Priest, with a look of confusion.

“If he wakes… And he’s… Unruly...”

“Paralysis scroll, I know…” Arlas replied, giving him a smirk and gesturing towards the front door before bringing her book back up to her face. She was eager to get through it by sundown, to free up her evening…

Lorius forced a smile in response, it was difficult, due to the fact that he was exhausted, before he left, secretly worrying for apprentice… And even moreso for her charge…

Chapter 2: Orsimer Descending
Arlas sat in her chair, literally tied up as she played Cat’s cradle, making a web out of the string that was carefully wrapped around her fingers. The Bosmer enjoyed stretching it and creating a variety of shapes, such as the soldier’s bed, the cat’s eye and then proceeding to attempt the clock. Sadly, none of these things were possible with just one person but it was better than doing nothing…

The Bosmer plucked away at the string, manipulating it into whatever shape popped into her head, until she heard her patient’s breathing pattern change. It was… heavier, more sentient…

He was awakening…

The Bosmer lowered her hands and quickly released them from the trap, her fingers snagged on the string a few times but she was eventually able to free herself from it. As soon as she was free, she cast the bits of string to one side and stood over the Orsimer’s bedside, observing him as he woke. She expected a man, who had lost an ungodly amount of blood, who almost died less than twenty four hours ago, to awake slowly, dazed and confused.

However, Bologra was no ordinary man and he defied all expectations. He quickly threw himself upright, almost head butting her in the face as he sat up and immediately roared in fury.

“Grgh! Where is he!?”

Naturally, this startled Arlas and she quickly jumped back, changing her healing spell into a lightning bolt, which trembled in her hand as she watched the raging bull awaken. He panted heavily, covered in sweat as his face turned a darker shade of green to the rest of his body.

“Pussy daedric asshole! Where’d  is he!? I’ll tear him a new-“ Before the Orsimer could finish his vow, he found himself to be overcome with a magical effect, which completely paralysed him…

Arlas watched the frozen Orc, with a look of unease. She slowly approaching him as she discarded her, now useless, scroll, and stretched her hand out.

Her movements towards him were slow and incredibly hesitant as she expected him to snap out of status and burst into another fit of rage, when she least suspected it. Still, the Bosmer knew the strength of the paralysis spell and knew that he wouldn’t be able to move for some time. She eventually built up the confidence to gently place her hand on his left pectoral muscle and carefully push him backwards onto the bed and moving his arms for him, so that they were in a more comfortable position.

“Calm down…” She said, in a not particularly demanding voice, she was used to patients overreacting, just not on this scale…

“You’re safe now, in the Hospital, at the Temple of the One…” She whispered. Her coos seemed to be working as the Orsimer’s breathing had rapidly slowed down to a normal, less psychotically angry state as he became more relaxed. The Bosmer gave him a slight smile, to reassure him before realising that her hand was still on his chest, prompting her to whip it away, just as the paralysis wore off.

Bologra groaned, slowly bringing his hand to his forehead, his remaining hand that is. He gently rubbed his forehead and eyes as he pulled himself together, the reality of the situation slowly sank in…

“Urgh… Hospital?” He asked, rather drunkenly as he dropped his hand to his side, blinking repeatedly as the room came into focus as did his Bosmeri rescuer.

“Y-Yeah…” Arlas replied, though she wasn’t even sure if this Orsimer had even heard of the concept of a hospital before. Though, then again, he did come here himself…

“You came here, after you… lost your hand. You were in bad shape, so… My superior, Father Lorius, patched you up. I’ve been watching over you ever since…” The Bosmer explained, slowly pulling her chair over to the side of the bed and taking a seat on it, resting her right knee on her left one as she crossed her legs over.

Bologra took that piece of information in before he smiled, with a sultry look…

“Hehe… I think I’ve had this dream before…” He said, chuckling a little to himself as he did so, getting Arlas to raise an eyebrow in confusion. She soon cottoned on and frowned in disgust…

Oh no… She thought, leaning back in her chair, rather uncomfortably…

Please tell me that, that’s the blood loss talking…

She slowly wrapped her fingers around another paralysis scroll, considering just using it to remind him not to get any funny ideas.

“S-So… Erm… What’s your name, Orc?” She asked, hoping to veer the topic of conversation away from his delusions.

“Bologra…” The Orsimer grumbled as he slowly sat up, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forth finger, as if he struggled to remember.

“Bologra Blackbeard…”

Arlas smirked at his name, finding it a little bit amusing to say the least as she leant forward.

“Was your ancestor a pirate?” She asked, resisting the urge to chuckle, she could somehow imagine this Orc out at sea, waving a cutlass, yelling obscenity in pirate speak through scurvy riddled teeth.

Bologra didn’t seem to understand this joke and honestly thought that it was a serious question, he pondered on it for a moment and realised that there were few, if any records of clan Blackbeard going out to sea at all…

“Erm… My brother, Bugdul, once crashed his sledge into a pond. Does that count?” He asked, seemingly clueless and prompting Arlas to question as to whether or not he was joking…

“Erm… S-Sure.” She then paused, realising that he had a next of kin.

“D-Does your brother live in the city?” She asked, wondering if she should send him a letter to inform him of what had happened.

Her question wasn’t met with an immediate response, Bologra just stared out, into space as his expression changed to a more somber one…

“He don’t live at all…” He replied, with a heavy sigh, looking down to the floor as it occurred to him that it was only a year ago that he was killed. Hunted, like an animal and left to rot in a field, the Orc was never fortunate enough to find out who did it but, then again, it did lead him to greater things as he was no longer in his brother’s limelight.

“Oh…” Arlas whispered, seeming somewhat embarrassed for making assumptions but, then again, it was more realistic to assume that he was alive.

“I’m sorry…”

Bologra shrugged, looking down at the stump at the end of his wrist, with a heavy sigh…

“First I lose my brother… Now my girlfriend…” He grumbled, gently waving the stump back and too as he began to chuckle, it was quite clear that he had an odd sense of humour, one that Arlas couldn’t help but be amused by as she couldn’t stop herself from laughing a little.

“You’re… A strange man…” She concluded, leaning back in her chair, smirking lightly as she shook her head, not doing a very convincing job of pretending that she wasn’t amused. Still, the accusation of being strange probably didn’t mean much coming from her as she was neither normal for a Bosmer or a Priest…

Bologra shrugged as the colour slowly returned to his face as he propped up his pillow and fell back, he didn’t exactly feel well enough to stand…

“My Sister-in-law used to tell me that all the time…” Bologra shrugged, with a smirk as he slowly turned his attention over to the young Bosmer Priest…

“I’ll bet…” She giggled, bringing her hands together and resting them on her stomach, falling silent and creating a vacuum in the atmosphere as the two of them ran out of things to talk about.

Well, except for one thing, the most important thing…

“Wh-What happened?” Arlas asked, realising that she wasn’t being very specific, he’d told her a lot over the past ten minutes or so…

“T-To your hand, I mean…”

Bologra, still silent, began to dwell on it a little, it was still a little fuzzy to him but the pieces were slowly forming together…

“Well…”

Twelve hours prior...
With an almighty ‘whack,’ which echoed throughout the White Gold Tower, Bologra’s challenger, a Vampire Lord Nord, went flying across the chamber. The beast went flying, head first into a wall, with enough force to crack the stone before falling back down and landing with a thud. Without the strength to power it, he slowly reverted back to his human form…

A smirk soon swept across Bologra’s face as his cheeks filled with laughter and he eventually exploded into a dark and yet hearty laugh…

“That felt good!” He cried, quickly spinning around and raising his hand, clutching it into a fist as he imagined his enemies being crushed at the center of it.

“Next!?”

After lingering for a few moments, the Orc noticed a few ripples in the air, causing his smile to quickly fade as his face expressed his shock, the ripples soon expanded into a large net of purple energy and at the center of it materialised some sort of being…

A large, twisted creature, seemingly undead and deformed, appeared before Bologra. It slowly descended from its portal as it chuckled, seemingly amused by the spectacle. Its laughter sending shivers down the spines of the other two contenders, due to its inhuman, metallic voice…

“Now… You just need to fight me…” It informed him, sounding very confident in its own abilities, something that made him and Bologra an even match as the Orc had no doubts, that the Daedra would be eating his shit eating grin, along with his own foot.

Before the Orsimer could say anything, he noticed that some sort of purple, telekinetic energy surrounded him, tossing him up into the air. The creature threw him upwards, with a great deal of force, into the ceiling of the Elder Council Chamber.

The Orc clashed with the stone ceiling, fracturing it on impact as he gave off an almighty ‘oof.’ The blow probably would have killed lesser men but Bologra’s size, stature, muscle mass and freakish nature, meant that this was but a minor annoyance.

Bologra wasn’t given much time to adjust to being thrown like a ragdoll before he was thrown back down to the floor, with just as much force as he was thrown upwards and crashed into the round, stone table at the center of the room…

The table shattered on impact, breaking up into four large chunks of rock, with a large Orsimer warrior lay at the center… Bologra stirred and grunted and groaning for a few minutes as he tried to process what had just happened to him, rubbing his head as he slowly sat himself up.

“You… Cheatin’… Boot licker!” He grumbled, building up his rage until he unleashed it in the form of a growl.

“I’m gonna kick you so hard, that your balls are gonna go into your lungs!” The Orc blustered, glaring upwards as the creature approached him, walking out of the shadows and stepping into the light, which illuminated his form. He appeared to be clad in, what looked like, bonemold armour, except it looked incredibly ancient and seemed to have a decaying twist to it…

His lower body consisted only of robes, old, torn ones that looked like velvet drapes that had been left out in the rain. His head was noticeably adorned with a bonemold crown, seemingly carved into the shape of a skull of an unidentifiable creature, a creature that is methodical or possibly even extinct, save for that bonemold smock…

“Cheating?” It asked, laughing faintly at the accusation as it drew its swords, two katana blades, carved out of bone.

“How does one bend rules that do not exist?” The Daedra mocked, slowly examining his blade, for a moment before turning his attention back to his foe. As he turned his head to Bologra, his face was revealed to be that of a skull, or at least a very decayed face. Baring his teeth, without lips and two red, burning eyes that looked human, compared to his skull-like nose and mouth but still looked decayed, like that of a zombie or a late stage vampire.

Bologra grimaced as he reached for his axe, slowly drawing it as he did so, trying to pull himself to his feet as his body was aching all over.

“Q-Quite easily… I-If you’re a pussy…” The Orc groaned, slowly pulling himself up and staggering, until he was upright, prompting him to raise his axe as he got into his usual stance. He’d fought tougher men in the past but he was having a hard time recalling as to when he had fought something as insanely powerful as a daedra before.

The Daedra didn’t respond and simply got into its own stance, lifting off of the ground and levitating a few feet away from his opponent, taking a tight grip on his swords as he stared him down and a small, villainous smirk made its way across his lips…

“You have lost, like all who oppose me, you were fated to perish from the moment that you drew your blade, mortal!” The Daedra replied, raising its right katana blade in triumph. The Orc’s eyes widened as he saw this but quickly narrowed, nobody talked down to a Blackbeard and lived!

The Orc began to snarl as he drew his leg back before slamming his foot, straight into the Daedra’s shin. This caused it to stumbled back, responding with a simple ‘oomf!’ as it did so, giving Bologra the chance to reach for his axe.

“D-Die, you cheatin’ asshole!” He roared as he slowly pulled himself up, swinging around twice before driving his axe into the daedra’s waist. It was a clean chop, with a heavy swing behind it and it would have split him in two, had he not teleported a split second before.

The Daedra vanished before Bologra’s eyes, exploding into a ball of energy, which rained down tiny sparks, leaving the Orsimer bewildered…

“Wuh…?” He asked, slowly relaxing and dropping his stance.

“Grrr… More cheating!”

As Bologra said that, he found himself engulfed in a red aura, which slowly began to pull at his body, lifting him up into the air, sending small energy bursts through his body that stopped him moving his limbs.

The Daedra watched the suspended Orc for a moment or two, somewhat amused by this turn of events as he approached him from behind. The Daedra took two, rather loud, steps before stopping…

Bologra, frozen on the spot, could only wonder what he was doing… Sizing him up? Looking for a good place to strike? Staring at his ass!? Whatever it was, as soon as he was free, he was going to give him an enema with his own katana!

However, Bologra’s bravado driven determination soon faded as he heard the daedra give off a dark chuckle… Before he could ask what was running through this daedra’s twisted little head, he felt a surge of pain shoot through his arm, which shot through his entire body. He gasped as the shock hit him and his hand flew off, spraying an unholy amount of blood in its wake.

The Orc immediately went dizzy from the shock and slowly felt the wet blood dripping down his wrist. He listened out as his hand hit the floor, with a light thud, where it was showered in the thick red blood that was pouring out of his arm…

Unable to think or feel, due to the blood loss, he began to grow light headed, his vision darkened and voices began to echo inside his head…

Within seconds, he passed out…

...
“Next thing I know…” Bologra grumbled, scratching the whiskers on his face as he realised that he had ran out of story…

“I woke up here…”

“So…” Arlas frowned, unsure as to what this meant, if Bologra was telling the truth, then there was a pretty powerful daedra responsible for this and if that was the case, then…

They needed to warn the authorities that it was using the Whitegold tower as the base of its operations. It could be up to anything in there…

“A Daedra is responsible for this? He did all of this inside the Elder Councillor’s chamber?” She asked, she didn’t doubt the Orc’s story, not yet anyway… The evidence would be quite easy to find if such a clash did take place…

“Yeah! The bastard rented it out, to fight all of us… Well, when I say ‘fight,’ I mean test his Daedric boy toys on us, like a pussy but you get what I mean.” The Orsimer shrugged, seemingly not as bothered by the revelation as she was…

“Actually, the Elder Chambers are open to the public, when the council isn’t in session but they would never allow fighting in there. Are you sure that it was the Whitegold Tower?”

“Yes!” Bologra snapped, reaching into his pocket and drawing a letter out, shoving it into her face.

“It says so on here!”

Arlas jerked her head back as the sheet was shoved into her face; she frowned in confusion and gently took it out of his hands as she began to examine it…

Bologra Blackbeard,

If you want to prove your superiority as a warrior, come and test your metal against me at the White Gold Tower… 

Come alone, tell no one of this meeting…

Jorane Lorwel…

“So… There really is a Daedric prince, loose in the White Gold Tower…” Arlas whispered in disbelief as she slowly pulled the letter to her face. There was still the possibility that this was an illusion of some kind, maybe a mage or a group of mages. But… Why target this Orc? He wasn’t powerful, influential, rich…

He was a skilled warrior, according to himself and the letter but there were surely more skilled warriors out there. In the Arena perhaps?

Maybe it was because he was expendable? Maybe…

Arlas just sighed, so many ‘maybes’ and few solid answers… She knew that the only way that they would find the truth, is by searching for it. She slowly handed the letter back to its rightful recipient and sighed…

“So… What do you plan to do now?” She asked, not knowing if the Orc wanted to pursue this or not. Of course, it was a bit of a stupid question, for such a proud and aggressive warrior…

“Now?” Bologra asked as he slowly rose up from his bed, an intense fire in his eyes, which flickered like embers from the warrior’s fire that burned in his heart.

“I’m gonna find that… Lawrence prick and I’m gonna show him why no one screws with Bologra Blackbeard! I’m gonna tear his head off and shove it up his ass and then drag him, up to the top of his precious tower and throw him off of i-“ Sadly the Orsimer didn’t get to the end of his inspirational speech as he was quickly blasted with another paralysis spell, to prevent him from breaking something.

Arlas sighed and looked away from the now suspended Orsimer as she slowly stood up, scratching the tuft of hair on the back of her head, which prickled her finger tips. It was one of the things she loved most about having her hair the way that it was…

“Or… We could go down to the Palace, without making a scene…”

Chapter 3: Clueless
Despite having the entire night to prepare her pitch, Arlas was nowhere near confident. She had the lines rehearsed in her head and had repeated them over and over again, so that she wouldn’t come across as crazy. Though, on reflection, it was probably not helping her case, staying up until 4AM, rambling on to herself, about Daedra in the White Gold Tower.

The next morning, she went to Bologra to check on him, much to the large Orc’s annoyance. He was starting to go stir crazy from not being able to unleash 500lbs of Orcish rage on the next daedra that he saw and the last thing that he wanted was someone mothering him. Arlas took him through the plan before she eventually heard Father Lorius approaching, she and Bologra turned to his attention and ambushed him as soon as he arrived, briefing him on the situation together.

Despite the fact that this was not how he imagined his day would go, Father Lorius stood before them and took everything in, clearly intrigued by the developments in the Orsimer’s story. He didn’t speak or vocalise at all as the two of them told him their tale of madness, all preparation thrown from the window as they lost their minds to the excitement and spewed all of the facts out, in whatever order they pleased.

Eventually, the Bosmer and her Orsimer Charge ran out of story and simply fell silent, leaving the Imperial Priest to reflect on a mostly incoherent mouthful. Eventually, after several moments of silence, he was able to put it all together and comment…

“So… You believe that there is a Daedric threat in the White Gold Tower?” He asked, though he knew that, this was what they were implying.

“Yes or at least some sort of magical threat.” Arlas replied, being careful to not jump to conclusions and appearing foolish, at least not more so than usual.

“And you believe that this Orc saw the daedra?” Lorius asked, raising several questions in Bologra’s head as to whether or not this old fart was calling him a liar.

“I believe that he believes it, yeah…” Arlas replied, trying not to seem too eager or too hesitant, that and it was the truth.

“Hmm… That is true…” He muttered, looking up to the one handed Orsimer, quizzically.

“Can you provide any evidence of your encounter with this demon?” He asked, his tone made the question sound like less of an accusation this time, getting him on the Orc’s good side.

“Well…” Bologra grumbled, reaching into his back pocket  and pulling out the sheet of paper, which he held up to the Priest’s face.

“There’s this letter…”

Lorius raised an eyebrow as the letter was pushed into his face, he paused to read it but Bologra’s slightly shaking hand moved it around a little and it was giving him motion sickness. It also didn’t do very well for his aging eyes…

The Priest took the letter and examined it first hand, scanning it with his eyes, it looked quite ominous to him and quite vague to but one thing did stand out, the signature…

Jorane Lorwel…

Arlas and Bologra both fell silent as they saw the Priest examine the letter, he took his time, trying to find any hidden meanings in it or maybe he was just a bad reader, either way he studied the thing for several minutes.

“Well?” Arlas asked, hesitantly.

“Hmm… I think that our Daedra has a very… Dunmeri name…” Lorius commented, lowering the letter.

“I’m beginning to suspect that he might actually be… Something else…”

“So… Not a Daedra?” Bologra asked, that was all he could get from the Priest’s ramblings, though to be honest, it didn’t matter as this was getting in the way of Lorwel smashing time. There was only so long that the Orsimer’s mind could sustain him with idle revenge fantasies, still, the imaginary girlish screams of the Daedra kept him amused and docile.

“It’s… Hard to tell, he could be an illusionist, a powerful one at that…

He may also be a daedra, some are created, instead of born, others were human once but ascended to daedric immortality.”

“Like the Hero of Kvatch?” Arlas pitched in, though that was just a rumour, which originated from an insane asylum at the turn of the 4th era, many scholars were starting to believe it as the truth.

“Yes, somewhat, perhaps he isn’t even daedric and is simply the champion of one of the Princes.” The Imperial considered as he folded the letter, holding it between his thumb and forth finger.

“It matters not, whatever this… Jorane Lorwel is, we know that he’s dangerous, ruthless and cunning…

Pursuing him may just lead to another trap…”

Lorius’ conclusion caused everyone in the room to fall silent, as stubborn as he was, Bologra couldn’t deny that Jorane Lorwel was crafty, dangerous and a cheating milk licker to boot. He couldn’t exactly vouch for Arlas’ safety and the Orsimer didn’t exactly want her blood on his hands… Hand either, not after she had patched him up and watched over him and asked for nothing in return.

“Father… We’ll be careful, I’m only going to ask questions and look for evidence, I’m not going there to pick a fight with a Daedra.” Arlas replied, seeming quite determined to go to the White Gold Tower and see it for herself.

“I promise, we’ll be back by sunset and if anything looks remotely dangerous, we’ll get out of there. Right?” She asked, turning to her Orsimer companion, who was about to quell an itch in his nose, with his index finger.

“Huh? Erm… Yeah, what you say goes…” He grumbled, not wanting to admit that he had been caught off guard.

“There, you see? We’ll have a look around and if we see anything and if we don’t, we’ll come back and if we do, we’ll have something to show the proper authorities.”

“And if the Daedra appears?” Lorius asked, not forgetting that final detail. From the sounds of it, the creature could materialise out of thin air and it may have unfinished business with Bologra…

“Then… I’ll make my excuses and leave, I mean, it didn’t kill Bologra, maybe it wants something else from us.”

Lorius fell silent and sighed, she was right of course and she didn’t seem like she was trying to antagonise the thing but all it had to do was say the right words and provoke her, for her to attack first and then her fate might be sealed…

The Bosmer could see that her Master wasn’t convinced; she understood but couldn’t bear the thought on missing out on this…

“Father…

I’m… I’m not a little kid anymore; I can look after myself…” She said, rather softly as she stepped forward.

“You don’t need to worry…”

Lorius kept up his stern appearance before eventually sighing and giving in, seeing that she was right…

“You’re right, Arlas… You’ve proven yourself to be capable and resourceful and…” He sighed once more, running his hand through his hair as the back of his mind throbbed at him to tell him to stop this.

Eventually, the Imperial looked up to Bologra, with a determined expression, bordering anger.

“You’ll bring her back, yes?”

“Sure…” Bologra shrugged, he wasn’t one to make promises, no matter how dire the situation was, shit happened but he’d do his best to keep it from happening.

Lorius accepted that and turned his attention back to Arlas, giving her the same expression as he stared her down as well.

“And you, first of that daedra…”

“And we’ll skedaddle; you don’t need to worry about that Father…” Arlas assured him, placing her hand on his, causing him to look down at it and notice the letter in his grip.

“Hmm… In the mean time, I’ll browse our archives for any mention of this Jorane Lorwel character…

Who knows, perhaps he’s cropped up before... He replied, stuffing the letter in his pocket before pausing as he realised that it belonged to the Orsimer.

“Erm… You don’t mind me taking this, for reference, do you?” He asked, quickly turning his attention to the Orsimer, who simply shrugged in response.

“Why not? Would’ve just ended up as toilet paper anyway…” The Orc shrugged as Arlas and Lorius looked to each other in disgust before the Elder Priest shook his head and sighed as he stuffed the letter into his pocket.

“Nine preserve us…” He grumbled, turning around and walking away, leaving Arlas and her new companion to it.

Chapter 4: The Scene of the Crime
It was high noon, by the time that Arlas and her new, eight foot tall companion arrived at the Green Emperor way, stood in the shadow of the giant Ayleid construct at the center. Somehow, the building was impressive, whether you were stood 10ft away from it or 10,000, if you could see the White Gold Tower, your breath was instantly stolen from you as you stood in awe.

Arlas had grown up in the Imperial City, so she was pretty used to it, it wasn’t as majestic and wondrous to her, unless she really thought about it. Bologra, on the other hand, was a little taken aback by its height and stature, wondering if those fancy skirt wearing Ancient High Elves knew what they were doing.

Well, it survived a Bologra wrecking ball, so its foundations should be sturdy, at least for a couple of minutes or hours at the most. The two of them wandered through the garden, passing several scholars, who walked the path and discussed their latest theories, neither of which were of any interest to any passers-by. Bologra, not too surprisingly, stuck out like a sore thumb and got several looks and glares in his direction, in fact one Imperial woman even screamed as she saw him, taken completely by surprise.

Arlas found herself to be a little more sympathetic than amused, she knew what it was like to be different to everyone else in the city. Her hair, her attitude towards things, both of these things made her a target for any judgemental passers-by. As a result, she turned around and looked over to Bologra, noticing that he was lagging behind a little bit.

“You okay big guy?”

Bologra’s attention was veering away, seemingly towards the gravestones as she spoke to him, prompting him to look back to Arlas and shrug.

“Yeah, this city’s just weird…” He commented, scratching the whiskers on his face, with his remaining hand as he walked, eyeing an Imperial guard, in his fancy ass Palace guards, in their Imperial Palace Cuirass, adorned with a golden trim and tiny red dragons painted on their stomach. Bologra eyed the armour for a second, wondering if they were dragons or chickens, that had been run over by a passing cart, sadly, he never got to figure that out as Arlas called him over to the Palace entrance.

Arlas stood, patiently, by the front door as she waited for a Palace Guard to open it for her. He stopped in front of them as soon as he was finished, to explain the rules.

“Keep your weapons sheathed and your voices low, inside the Imperial Palace. Citizens are allowed to explore the elder council chambers, when they are not in session.” Arlas thanked him, with a polite nod, to acknowledge him, Bologra just snorted. The asshole didn’t say anything about spitting…

However, Arlas, who was paying attention to her surroundings noticed that the guards didn’t seem remotely different to the way that they were usually. In fact, it was business as usual, after a Daedra had just fought a ten foot Orc, inside the Elder Council chambers, doing untold damage.

It didn’t make sense to her, surely they’d be still investigating such an incident, the council chambers would be ‘closed, due to vandalism’ at least.

Yet here… Nothing…

Hell, the Priests made a bigger deal than this, that time that Arlas did the ole bucket and door trick. Doesn’t the Emperor live here? Even if he was on holiday or something, he’s still at risk, isn’t he?

She decided to ask, it’s not like they were trying to cover it up or anything as anyone who enters could clearly see that the table was shattered.

“I’m surprised that there isn’t more security, considering the fight that broke out, in here, the other day.” Arlas pointed out, rather casually as if it was just a rumour. The Imperial Guard turned to her and raised an eyebrow, seeming incredibly confused by that statement.

“Fight?” He asked, wondering if she was mad.

“Y-Yeah, there was a huge ruckus in the Elder’s Chambers, the table got smashed, didn’t it?” The Bosmer asked, trying to appear to be as ignorant as possible but sadly she was failing as she knew a lot more than the Imperial guard.

“Sister, I don’t know what where you could have heard this but I can assure you, it most certainly isn’t true. The Elder Council Chambers are perfectly functioning, no violence is tolerated inside these halls and both parties would be detained, the second that they drew their blades.

If such an event had happened, I can assure you, the Palace would be closed off indefinitely. We wouldn’t risk the wellbeing of the ancient relics inside.” The Guard assured her, it was obvious what he was really thinking though, he just remained respectful, because he was dealing with one of the Nine’s devotes.

“Bullshit!” Bologra snapped, stepping forward and accidentally knocking Arlas to the side as he towered over the Imperial, looking like he was about to break something.

“This place was smashed to shit, two days ago! I was here, being thrown around, like a ragdoll, until that thing cut my ‘’’hand’’’ off and I passed out!” He growled, waving the stump in front of the guard’s face, to show how fresh it was.

Smooth Bologra Arlas thought as she rolled her eyes, at least now the Imperial Guard saw where her crazy story had come from. Great, just great, not only did the Priests think that she was crazy but now the law does as well, just what she needed.

“Sir, I must ask that you remain calm. If you’re trying to report an assault, then I will be more than happy to assist you in a civil manner.” The Palace Guard replied as his comrades turned their heads and slowly wrapped their hands around the hilts of their swords.

“Y-Yeah, Bologra, you don’t want us getting arrested now… Do you?” Arlas added, giving him a glare as sharp as knives, causing Bologra to retreat into a less aggressive stance.

“I… Guess not.” He sighed before chuckling.

“You wouldn’t last ten minutes in a cell anyway, girly.”

Arlas smirked at the jab, she’d get him back later, right now she’d rather focus on getting to the bottom of Bologra’s mystery ‘’’without’’’ getting thrown in jail.

“C’mon Bologra, let’s go and examine the chambers, we can come back later once we’ve collected enough evidence.” She suggested, looking over to the Guard, with a smile and a respectful nod before the two of them entered.

-

As the two of them wandered down the palace’s hallway, Arlas quickly found herself stepping in front of the Orsimer, defiantly standing in his way.

“Bologra… Are you ‘’’sure’’’ about this?” She asked, folding her arms and looking at him accusingly, someho she believed the guard over him.

“About what?” He asked, seeming confused, he hadn’t done anything illegal… Yet.

“About… Your story, it doesn’t add up. Are you ‘’’sure’’’ that it happened as you said that it did?” The Bosmer asked, not wanting to call him a liar as she didn’t believe that herself. In truth, she believed that he was confused, perhaps it was a dream, that he experienced, after he had passed out, from the blood loss.

“You calling me a liar?” He asked, rather darkly as he towered over her, he wasn’t a liar, stupid or crazy, he’d prove that.

“Look, if none of it happened, then how did I lose my hand?” Bologra asked, waving the stump in front of her face.

“The ruins and my hand should be here, unless they fed the hand to the guard dogs but they can’t cover up the ruins, that’s for damn sure!”

“But that guy looked at us like we were crazy, I looked around and ‘’’no one’’’ knew what you were talking about! Are you ‘’’sure’’’ that you aren’t… I don’t know, remembering a dream or something?”

The Orc growled and turned around, holding his mangled looking stump inches away from her face as he violently waved it.

“Dreams ‘’’don’t’’’ cut off people’s hands!” He bawled in her face, causing the Bosmer to shudder a little as she wasn’t used to such aggression or noise or the dog-like breath of a warrior. As Bologra finished yelling he was quickly shushed by a scholar, who was walking past them, on his way down to the cellar.

“Bite me, prick!” Bologra yelled at the weedy Imperial, getting him to jump out of his skin before he scuttled off, hurrying back to his duties. As Bologra yelled a second time, the Palace doors opened and two guards stepped in, holding up their swords as they got ready to put an end to the disturbance. Arlas felt her heart shift in recognition, slowly sinking towards her stomach as she looked back to Bologra, in a panic.

“Y-You need to calm down…”

“I’m gonna show you pricks that I ain’t crazy, that I was here and this place was smashed to shit and then you’ll owe me a huge friggin’ apology!” As he finished, he turned to his left and booted the door to the Elder council Chamber as hard as he could, sending the two ancient doors flying open as he did so, revealing the Elder Council chamber to be…

Untouched…

The Ancient, stone, round table at the center remained unharmed, as did the ceiling and the walls… There was absolutely no sign of any struggle, no damage done to the building, no blood stains… The only damage done to the room was the massive chip, that Bologra’s boot had put in the door, which lead them to their new problem.

Bologra, still in shock, turned around and noticed that he was now surrounded by three, extremely pissed off looking guards, each pointing their swords at the Orc and his Priest companion as they slowly backed against the wall.

“Oh oh…” Bologra muttered as he stepped back, oblivious to the fact that Arlas herself was pressed against the wall, clinging onto it as her heart pounded inside her chest, paralysed on the spot.

She just hoped that it wasn’t too late to denounce her affiliation with the Orc…

Chapter 5: Jorane Lorwel
As the group of Palace guards slowly closed in on Arlas and her Orcish companion, she found herself coming up with as many ways as possible to appease this situation. Trying to find the right combination of words that would avoid them getting detained or possibly a prison sentence. Bologra, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how many of these chumps he could take down before he and Arlas had to make a run for it.

Either way, they’d have to think fast as the guards were slowly closing in, thankfully, Bologra had the advantage of not being weighed down by the hurdles of logic and consequences and within the blink of an eye, he had thrown his head back and roared an earthshattering battle cry.

This somewhat startled everyone in the room, which was the idea behind it all. From his or any warrior’s perspective as it gave him a split second to get the first hit in. Bologra charged forward and punched the first guard, sending him spinning to the ground. The Second and third guard quickly snapped out of it and charged in, trying to swing their swords at the Orc, who stepped back in preparation.

He threw a punch at the second guard, this time with his stump arm, forgetting that he had lost it the day before. The force was enough to shake the guard up and knock the clueless guard down but it also sent a shockwave through Bologra’s sensitive arm, which caused the Orsimer to burst into a rage induced roar, clutching it to try and appease the overwhelming, throbbing pain that whacking the stump had brought on.

Arlas just watched in bewilderment, not wanting to take part, she figured that she’d just take the side of whoever won. Either way, she’ll probably be sleeping in a dungeon tonight, something that she had never fancied doing…

The third Imperial Palace guard saw an opportunity here and charged in, getting ready to use Bologra’s injury to his advantage. Bologra looked up and saw that the Guard was charging towards him and saw that he had little time to prepare. The Orsimer quickly stepped to the side and brought his arm down, trapping the Imperial’s wrist between the Orc’s elbow and ribs. He then snatched the Palace Guard’s breastplate before throwing him as far as possible, laughing as he flew through the air, screaming and flailing his arms and before landing on the floor, with an ‘oof.’

“Ha! You call yourselves bodyguards!? I’ve seen cripples that throw better punches!” The Orc jeered, bursting into a fit of booming laughter, completely oblivious to the pounding footsteps of more guards.

“Erm… Bologra?” Arlas asked, slowly looking up as she saw another dozen guards rush to the scene, she didn’t hide her feelings of dread very well.

“What?” Bologra asked, seeming confused, until he actually listened and noticed that the guards were now pursuing him…

“Oh crap…”

The Palace Guards came to a stop, seemingly accompanied by a young Imperial man, in some sort of ceremonial robes.

“What’s going on here!?” The man snapped, in a quite powerful and impressive voice, it was clear that he was some sort of politician. Possibly a councillor but he seemed a little young for that…

“Erm…” Bologra mumbled, looking down as a Palace guard crawled past his feet, groaning and wheezing as he did so, over faced with the injuries that the Orsimer had inflicted on him. This prompted Arlas and her Orsimer companion to look to one another before pointing and declaring “It was him/her!”

The Councillor, or whatever he was, looked down at the injured guards. They were injured but they seemed more shaken, than actually hurt, no real harm was done. These people obviously weren’t assassins, more likely rowdy townsfolk but one of them was a Priest, she was young but still a Priest…

The other? Well, if he was on his own he would have already made his assumptions but something about this whole thing felt a little off.

“Who are you people? Why are you here?” He decided to ask, getting Arlas and Bologra to look to each other in confusion. Bologra was going to open his big fat cake socket and compromise them further but Arlas quickly stopped him by giving him a glare that was sharper than any dagger that he’d ever seen.

The Orsimer fell silent and let her take over this one…

The Bosmer stepped forward and rubbed the back of her head, deciding that her best bet would be to just answer his questions for now…

“My name is Arlas, I’m an Initiate, at the temple of the one. This is my…” She turned around, seeing Bologra picking some bits out of his beard and eating them before she made up her mind.

“Patient… Bologra…” She said, in a tone that implied that the words were excruciating for her.

“We’ve… Come here to figure out what happened to him.” The Councillor took one look at the Orc and immediately noticed his hand, it must be less than forty eight hours fresh and it was a miracle that he was able to walk around with such an injury.

“Hmm… You don’t know how you lost your hand, Orc?” He asked, seeming more curious than angry at this point.

Bologra looked to Arlas for permission to speak, suddenly getting an appreciation for how his brother felt, when he got married. The Bosmer nodded, giving him permission, though he got the feeling that there was a ‘so long as you mind yourself’ clause in there… The Orsimer stepped forward, scratching his face…

“Erm… Well, not exactly sir, y’see a daedra cut it off and we came here to find him but he ain’t here, it’s like none of it ever happened.” The Orc explained, trying to keep himself calm, more out of fear of Arlas than the guard.

“Hmm… A Daedra, you say? Here? In the palace?” The Imperial Councillor commented, seeming like he believed their story, at least on some level.

“S-Sir Aube, you don’t believe this… Ludacris fantasy, do you?” One of his guardsmen asked, stepping out of line.

“I-I mean, look at what they’ve done to the place! H-How can you take anything that they say seriously?”

‘Sir Aube’ swiftly looked to the Guard, with his brow furrowed, he didn’t really appreciate such negativity and closed minded thinking.

“If there is a Daedra running loose in this Palace, then I’d say that their actions were justified, I’d do a lot more to prevent the Imperial Empire from falling victim to the madness of the daedra.”

Sir Aube then turned to the others, seeming more than a little on edge at this point as he addressed the intruders again.

“Do you have any proof of this?” He asked, though it sounded more like a request than a demand, he knew better than lesser men that the most damning evidence is rarely the most obvious.

“Erm…” Bologra grumbled, running his hand through his hair as Arlas stepped forward again, shaking her head.

“N-No Sir… We have a letter, which was sent to Bologra by this Daedra but we left it with one of the Priests at the Temple of the One.” She explained, surprisingly Sir Aube was still hanging on her every word.

“They have no proof!” The same Palace Guard blustered, turning back to the Councillor with an indignant frown.

“Sir, as much as I respect that your… Curiosity, these people have committed crimes against the empire and have no proof to justify them. I must take them into custody!”

“You will do no such thing!” Aube snapped, not even looking at the guard this time as his voice echoed throughout the chamber.

“I see no proof of Daedric involvement, yet but I also do not see any evidence that there isn’t any. Until I see evidence to prove either theory, then the investigation will continue.” He stated, turning to the Palace Guard and staring him down.

“Is this acceptable? Or would you like to be remembered as the Guard who let a Daedra slip its twisted, black fingers into the mind of the Emperor and corrupt his thoughts? We all know that Sanguine once stripped an entire banquet naked, how can we say what is and isn’t possible?”

The Guard fell silent and nodded respectfully, taking his place back in line.

“Y-You’re right Sir… We cannot let the possibility of Daedra activity go uninvestigated…” He then paused and glared at Bologra and the trainee Sister.

“No matter how unlikely it is…”

“Good!” Soir Aube chirped, turning back to the others as he awaited answers.

“Now, you said that you were attacked here? Where abouts?” Bologra turned around and gestured to the area, with the stump on his arm, giving the Councillor a shrug.

“In there…”

“The… Elder Council Chamber?” Soir asked, this was quite unnerving.

“Show me.”

-

After several minutes of combing the area for evidence, clues and eventually anything that suggested that Bologra’s story was remotely true, all evidence turned up false. Eventually, Arlas just gave up looking and stood in the corner as Bologra rushed around the room, trying desperately to find anything that could suggest that his story was true. Eventually, the Orc just got angry and drove his fist down onto the table, growling with barely suppressed rage.

“I don’t get it!” He snapped, panting heavily as he grew more and more frustrated, how can a battle happen and not happen? It wasn’t a dream, he had the marks on his body, from where he had been thrown about, he had no hand and he remembered what it was like flying up there.

“Sir, this was a waste of time, I suggest that you let me take the Orc into custody, so that we can begin repairs on the doors.” One of the Palace guards insisted, getting Soir Aube to stroke his chin, still unconvinced that the Orsimer was wrong. Something about this whole thing seemed… Off…

The Orc didn’t seem to be insane or delusional, not entirely and considering the power of a Daedra, it could have done anything to make him forget or experience false memories. This didn’t disprove the Orc, at least not entirely… He just had to prove it…

“No, not yet, there’s still something not quite right here…” He insisted, raising his hand and turning back to the companions, finding his own faith to be a little fragile right now. He paused for a minute as he thought up the next possible course of action before looking back to some of the guards and snapping his fingers.

“You there, men! I need you to get me a patrol report of the last week, don’t skim over anything, look over every detail and report back to me.” He ordered, turning his attention back to his other guards.

“You, take them to the cellar, if something is here, then that would be the perfect place for it to lurk. You’ll need their eyes to understand what you’re looking for.” Soir Aube demanded further, before turning his attention to the remaining set of guards.

“You and I will explore the upper levels, we’ll all meet back here within the hour.” The Imperial announced, getting a nod and a sharp ‘aye’ from his men before they all departed, save for Arlas and Bologra’s group, who waited as Soir Aube approached them.

“You two will have to be under your best behaviour, my men are already looking for an excuse to arrest you, if you resist them or provoke them, I cannot guaranty that they won’t just slay you, the second that they have the chance.” The Imperial explained, though Bologra still seemed unimpressed, he could take them, he could take two groups of them, without breaking a sweat.

In fact, they were just lucky that he didn’t have both hands… “Thank you.” Arlas replied, not wanting to give Bologra the chance to show them up further, she gave the Councillor a graceful bow.

“But I don’t understand, Councillor… Why are you doing this? Why do you believe us?” She asked, a thought that constantly nagged her mind, throughout this torturous process. Aube looked down to her, with a slightly solemn look, folding his arms and frowning as he found himself considering his answer.

“Because… I know the Daedra. Of them at least, I know what they’re capable of and just how manipulative they can be. I could never, in good conscience let any possibility of a Daedra siting go unchecked.” He replied, seeming somewhat pained by the thought of letting such chaos run rampant in the tower.

He eventually broke from his thoughts and turned his attention back to Arlas and Bologra, giving them a respectful nod.

“I must be off, to help with the investigation…” He informed them before turning around and walking away, stopping as he got half way to the door and turning back to them.

“Good hunting.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Arlas in the… somewhat capable hands of her Orsimer companion and half a dozen bodyguards, who seemed frustrated and a little tense from their encounter earlier, with the Orc.

Feeling pressured to do so, the Bosmeri Priest lead the way, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this mess…

-

The group slowly approached the cellar door, where Arlas and Bologra stood patiently, waiting for one of the Palace Guards to find the key and unlock it, only to get a look of confusion before one of the guards stepped forward and pushed it open.

Arlas sighed, realising that she wasn’t off to a great start, still she couldn’t decide if not knowing that these guys kept the door unlocked was stupidity on her end or theirs. The Bosmer stepped forward and slowly descended into the basement, finding herself to be immediately followed by a dozen shiny soldiers and the hulking Orc, who had to stoop his head low, in order to slip in.

As they descended into the, surprisingly shallow, basement, which was surprisingly empty, save for a few boxes of clutter and the odd statue. Arlas had read that there was once an oversized throne here, a huge hour glass, a giant crystal ball and a gargantuan club. However, the palace was sadly ransacked, during the Great War. Most of the equipment that wasn’t stolen was destroyed, intentionally or unintentionally, during the chaos. It saddened Arlas to think of it really, so much was lost…

Bologra, on the other hand, had no idea what half of this junk was. He saw a statue of a lady, holding a spear and looking all meaningful, which seemed a little pointless to him. The Orsimer didn’t understand the obsession that Imperials had with ‘art.’ The Orc saw it as pointless, for the most part, except maybe the statues with tits. Yeah, statues with tits were okay as were statues with gore and violence, being portrayed in the most awesome way imaginable.

That seemed okay to him…

Bologra paused for a minute, wondering if they kept any statues with tits down here but then remembered that he was supposed to be looking for Daedra. Arlas had already gotten to work on it, seeing that several items had sheets over them, curious as to what was buried under the sheet, Arlas reached up and tugged it away, revealing a rather strange statue of a stunted scamp in formal clothes. The Bosmer just raised an eyebrow before walking away, moving on in the hopes of finding something that was actually Daedric… Bologra approached a magical sword that was seemingly stuck in a large stone, it seemed to be wedged in pretty tight. The Orsimer just grinned as he looked around, he knew how this fairy tale would end…

As the Orc wrapped his hand around the hilt, he was immediately hit with a powerful surge of electricity, that shot straight through his body. After a few moments of being electrocuted, Bologra cried out in pain before he was thrown back into a pile of boxes, landing with a heavy thud.

“B-Bologra!” Arlas gasped, turning back, fearing the worst for him as he wasn’t exactly at full strength. However, it seemed that her worries were unwarranted as she watched him scramble to his feet, grumbling something about magic and how stupid it was as he stood up. He stepped on a small box, which immediately broke under his feet, prompting his foot to fall in, ankle deep and get stuck inside.

The Orc tried to shake it off but struggle and eventually shattered the box, with a hard stomp of his other foot.

“Do not touch the artefacts…” A Palace Guard said, rather calmly as he was trying to hide his amusement, somehow that made all of this worth it.

“Grr… Getting touched is the least that that stupid sword has to worry about…” The Orc grumbled as he coddled his stump and continued to examine the area.

The group pulled away several sheets and looked around the items that they contained, though they came face to face with some wonderful, fascinating and some even downright weird artefacts, nothing remotely Daedric had come up. Well, save that Scamp Statue but it was obvious that, that was crafted with human hands…

Eventually, after a good twenty minutes of searching, the group arrived back at the center of the room, everyone had empty hands and glum expressions as they were forced to admit that they turned up with nothing…

“Yeah, there’s nothin’ here, nothing but statues and a few boxes of crap…” Bologra grumbled, kicking one of said boxes aside as he approached them, hopefully there was nothing valuable inside it.

Arlas rolled her eyes but couldn’t do much but admit that he was right, there was nothing here that suggested Daedric activity was going on inside the tower.

Maybe… Maybe it was all a dream… She thought, looking over to Bologra, who didn’t seem to be all that bothered by it anymore, he actually looked more bored than anything else.

''It… It doesn’t make sense, how can someone lose their hand to a dream? It just isn’t possible…''

“Oh… But it is…” An alien voice ‘replied’ inside her head, causing her spine to straighten as the walls, ceiling, the artefacts and even the other people began to burn away and vanish in smoke, leaving her on a tiny island at the center before the levitating form of Jorane Lorwel.

“You just need to be in the right dream…”