Surtr huffs in annoyance, "You are only partly correct... While my gifts may have had a hand in my accomplishments, that doesn't mean I didn't work for them! Were you there when I toiled under my abusive Fighter's Guild-mates!? Were you there when I killed my first man!? Were you there when I took a dagger to the back during an ambush!? NO!"
He stomps up to Sirgar, looming over him with his now impressive 7ft height, "If you had any inclination of what I've been through you would stay and silently work on some farm somewhere, hoping your time to act would never come." he shoves Sirgar in the chest, "At any time you could have left and joined a mercenary group to find your fortunes! The Companions would have accepted you had you shown promise! Any city guard would have trained you! Yet you complain to me about how hard your life was sitting at home enjoying mother and father's grace!?"
"WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO!? YOU TOOK ALL THE GOLD, AND SOMEONE HAD TO STAY AND LEARN TO MANAGE THE MINES! YOU TOOK THAT OPPORTUNITY FROM ME!" he roars in response, tightly gripping his fists.
"I'D HAVE YOU ACT LIKE A MAN!" Surtr shouts back, silencing his brother, "Our parents don't rule you! And your excuses for your weakness disgust me! Just say it how it is and stop lying to yourself! You are weak! You deserve nothing! You have no right to say anything to me about unfairness!"
"YOU WANT ME TO ACT LIKE A MAN!? HOW'S THIS!?" he shouts as he draws a hidden dagger from his belt and holds it up threateningly.
"Put that down, brother." Surtr growls as his pupils' contract at the 'threat'.
"OR WHAT!? WHAT, THE LEGENDARY DRAGONBORN AFRAID OF A DAGGER!? MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE DRAGONBORN INSTEAD!? MAYBE YOU STOLE THAT FROM ME TOO!?"
"Shut up, and put the knife down. Before you do something stupid."
Sirgar almost hysterically laughs at his face while drunkenly waving the dagger around, "Hah! Pathetic! Tell me! How many of your women would bother if they saw how scared you are now!? Just another thing you stole from me!" he erratically thumps his chest.
Grinding his teeth, Surtr finally loses his temper and slaps the knife out of his brother's hand before grabbing his throat, and slamming him against the alleyway wall with a hard *thud!*.
"You remind me of the many cowardly bandits that harass roads, you say a lot, but when the time comes you beg like the rat you are. You are right, we were never brothers, no one like you would ever share my blood." he growls as Sirgar frantically clutches the armoured hand holding him in place.
"If you are so intent on finding something to whine about, let me give you one." Surtr grouses, dropping Sirgar and stamping on his leg, crushing it at the joint and crippling him for life.
Sirgar, of course, screams out in pain, crying as he holds his mangled leg. Surtr ignores it though, sending one last glance at him before walking away to follow Esbern's map.
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Louise' eyes blink open as she slowly sits up and surveys the area around her, only pause as she sees only darkness... She couldn't differentiate the floor from everything else, or if she was trapped in a small box or an endless black landscape.
How did she get here anyway? She and the others had just discovered a relatively large port city and had decided to rest and continue planning how to approach it in the morning... Was she dreaming? If she was, she wasn't sure if this was an improvement or not...
Usually, her dreams had her reliving her many failures in life, the mistakes that'd led to the deaths of almost everyone, including her own family... The death of Henrietta. Her familiar's betrayal...
She grits her teeth at the thought and is about to go into one of her many rants when she hears a quiet chuckle behind her... She turns and is greeted by a shadowed silhouette of what seemed to be a man... "Who are you? Why have you brought me here?"
"Hm, you did not have a problem listening to me previously." the man remarks as his face, or mask, comes into view. "I am Miraak, what is my benefactor's name?"
...
"You're the one who spoke to me? I thought you'd look... Not human..." she trails off, having thought the voice belonged to something more monstrous than a mere man. "Ah-, my name is Louise-," she pauses for a moment and decides to not mention her last name... After everything she'd done, she didn't deserve it. Not in the slightest. "Just Louise."
Miraak idly nods, "Well then Louise, shall we discuss the manner in which your help will come?"
She nods, "Yes, but first, what do I get out of this?" she inquires.
"What will you get...?" Miraak parrots, rolling the words in his mouth, he smiles under his mask, "Let me show you. Gol Hah Zaam!" he shouts and a wave of strange energy washes over Louise. She stumbles backwards and is unable to avoid it, causing her to drop to a knee as something itches at her mind... She just couldn't tell what IT was.
"Tell me, how do you feel?" Miraak asks, walking out of the shadows and towards the girl.
"Strange..."
"Stand." he commands, and she does so, quickly standing upright while seeing nothing odd with this situation.
"Lie down." she does so.
"Sleep, and forget this dream." she does so.
Louise' form fades from the black expanse, leaving Miraak standing there alone. "A strong, yet damaged mind. I wonder how many sessions like this it will take..." he ponders aloud in the comfort that no one could hear him.
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Michael steps through a Dimension Gate with a bloodstained letter grasped in his right hand a strange-looking fur band. It'd been a couple weeks since the whole Tyranny of the Sun situation, so he'd made himself busy in the meantime, mostly searching for artifacts of Clavicus Vile.
Of course, he also made time to visit his sister after completing some pieces of jewellery for her. Rings, necklace, earrings, anklets, bracelets, you name it, all heavily enchanting to make sure there was no possible way for her to die... Since magic didn't exist in his old mundane world, it was fairly easy to protect her against most means.
Other than that, he'd just come back from Cyrodil, and before that Elsweyr. One of Vile's artifacts had actually been the fur band he now carries, which was held by the Mane of Elsweyr. They weren't too keen on giving it up, primarily due to the fact that Vile had gifted it to them as a warning more than a gift.
What it did was save the life of its wielder up to nine times, which was actually stupidly powerful... Any fatal damage would be instantly healed... Any. This meant that cutting off the Mane's head would do nothing, nor would stabbing their heart, disintegrating them, exploding them, etc.
This did come with a cost however, it would steal a portion of the wearer's soul with every death, killing them after their ninth. It was called the Cat of Nine Lives, and was one of the more powerful artifacts that Vile had created.
Still, he'd acquired it regardless. The King of Khajiit was strong and all, but he wasn't anywhere near as strong as Harkon, or even a dragon for that matter. The only annoying part about it was the fact that he'd basically declared war on all of Elsweyr... Though, this wasn't really a problem with how the rest of Tamriel was handling things.
Ulfric's acquisition of Skyrim had drastically changed the political landscape. Hammerfell hadn't made any moves yet, but it was plain to see that they were edging towards allying with Skyrim against the Thalmor, and indirectly the Empire.
High Rock, the Breton's homeland, hadn't done anything either, but with how their Province was positioned, they were likely to join hands in the alliance too... Not to mention their dislike for their arrogant High Elf cousins.
Morrowind and Black Marsh were quiet if you ignore the requests of a few Dunmer families 'subtly' requesting aid from Ulfric to take back their land. Brynjolf had joked about how stupidly obvious their schemes were, and that these families would be eaten by the Argonians before Ulfric even saw the letters.
It was fairly obvious to most however that the Dunmer and Argonians were waiting to see how things would progress, then decide their opinion after the fact.
The Empire itself was in a bit of an uproar due to Skyrim actually managing to claim its independence. Not to mention General Tullius who was imprisoned in the Blue Palace. A man like him didn't get to where he was without a shit load of networking, not to mention how important he was to the Emperor.
Most at this point would just declare war on the Thalmor and try to regain their lost allies, but such thoughts were impossible currently due to the Thalmor having a tight grasp on almost everything military and not.
How did Michael know about this? Well, he'd just paid a visit to Cyrodil to pick up a letter from Keo Umpiel's bard friend... He had refused when asked to hand it over of course, but not many people can say no to Michael and walk it off.
He tosses the Cat of Nine Lives in his inventory and opens the letter after wiping some moisture from his brow.
"Huh... The cult's next meeting is next week in the outskirts of Leyawiin, a hidden location in the Blackwoods... Apparently important enough to demand everyone's attendance too..." he mutters aloud. "Guess I'm crashing a party then..."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Surtr trudges up a steep incline leading to Sky Haven Temple and when he finally pulls himself up he's greeted with a view overlooking a small valley... That also happened to be inhabited by the cockroach equivalent of humans, Forsworn.
They'd set up small structures and traps all over the place, decorating it with skulls, pelts, and other ritualistic or cultural things. More importantly though, they'd set up their entire camp around the cave entrance that supposedly leads to the temple...
He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a purple potion that'd been labelled with 'Invisibility'. He wasn't an alchemist so he'd had to have them sorted this way... Otherwise, he might just down a horrific poison instead of the antidote.
He'd rather not slaughter his way through here, he had a mission to do and wasting his time on this would be incredibly annoying... Unfortunately, it looks like fate has a way of fucking with him, as he spots Esbern and Delphine being carried through the camp upside down with their hands and legs tied.
Maybe he should wait for them to be sacrificed, then continue with his quest?... That would still waste his though, not to mention the fact that the old man had been nothing but helpful since he'd met him.
He sighs and draws Wuuthrad from his back, "I don't know if that bitch can owe me any more than she already does, least I can hold this over her head... If she doesn't lose it..." he mutters before rapidly sliding down the stone incline, catching the attention of all the nearby Forsworn.
"Killing you pathetic whelps can only make Skyrim stronger! This isn't even going to be a fig-"
*ROOOOOAAAAAAARRR!*
"DRAGON!" a Forsworn manages to yell just as he's bathed with fire.
"Ugh... Again?" Surtr groans.
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