Kapitel 606: Hail the Truer King
With the guards dealt with, Surtr turns his attention to the view servants who were still cautiously observing, another shout later and the only people left alive in the hall were him and Ulfric...
Ulfric struggles to get to his feet, part of his spine having been cracked and fractured from the sheer force he'd struck the wall with. Despite having the posture of a hunchback, he draws the sword from his hip and points it at Surtr, a look of determination striking him. "You won't get away with this, the people will know!"
Surtr scowls at him, "No, they won't."
The Dragonborn steps forwards once more when Ulfric lunges at him, his blade stabbing towards the larger man's neck... Surtr grabs the blade, the steel cutting shallowly in his palm as Ulfric tries to wrench it out of his grasp.
"Good bye, Ulfric." he growls, taking the man's own sword and stabbing him in the heart with it.
"Guughk!..." Ulfric falls to the floor, his back leant up against the wall as blood streams from his wound... "I-Ironic... I-Is this how, Torygg felt..." foggy eyes turn to Surtr, "Sovngarde waits... But not for you, betrayer..."
With that, the High King expires, leaving Surtr there, standing alone.
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The sudden death of Ulfric shocked Tamriel, the strong saviour of Skyrim killed in the midst of his power... Obviously, people scrambled to discover just what'd happened, thankfully though, the Dragonborn was present to illuminate things.
Apparently, Imperial soldiers and some members of the Dark Brotherhood had invaded the Blue Palace to free General Tullius from his imprisonment. In the process, Ulfric was killed by the assassins while the Dragonborn fought valiantly to save him.
Unfortunately, despite his full efforts, the assassins managed to cut and run, fleeing before the Dragonborn could catch a single one...
There were rumours that something else had happened, that the Dragonborn had betrayed his High King for some reason, but no one believed that for a second. Of course, since Ulfric lacked an heir or any even remotely close family, the position of High King was left vacant... Thankfully, there was someone in a prime position to take up the mantle.
High King Surtr took his throne almost a week after Ulfric's demise, immediately declaring war on the Empire for the assassination of Ulfric, and the numerous atrocities committed against Skyrim... Some called this foolish and reckless, but others felt their blood boiling for the chance to fight back against those who'd oppressed them.
A Province-wide man-hunt for the Dark Brotherhood also began, every loyal Nord searching for the vile cultists who'd slain the High King... Much to Astrid's chagrin...
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Michael had his feet kicked up on a table within a recently opened Eredar tavern, the stone architecture and glowing blue lights giving the place a warm yet magical vibe that suited the almost alien music the Eredar musicians played well.
He was relaxing alone and sipping some ale Borvir and Rundi had recently created, the two brother's research finally amounting to something affordable and enjoyable... At least, until two shadows suddenly sat themselves either side of him...
He puts his drink down and sighs, "Astrid, Eleril, nice of you to invite yourselves..." he remarks to the Nord and High Elf duo.
"Well, you were having a one-man pity party to yourself, Michael." Eleril snarkily says.
"Enough." Astrid scolds her partner before turning to Michael, "Have you heard?"
"Heard what? About our new High King or your killing of the last one?" Michael hums in a speculative tone.
"Both. The whole of Skyrim is hunting us, I want to know why."
"Why'd you think I would know? I'm halfway to being as disliked as you guys right now, if you hadn't noticed." he retorts, this was partly the reason why he'd gone here instead of the Frozen Hearth, while most people in Winterhold were friendly with him, visitors from out of town glared at him like he'd raped their wives of something.
"I know you are good friends with a certain Jarl who knows how things."
"Yeah? Why didn't you go and ask him then? Winerhold's a long way from Riften I'll tell you that."
"Because it would be better if you asked instead of us. Our business with the Thieves Guild hasn't been good ever since Brynjolf became Jarl, he seems to think having a relationship with the Dark Brotherhood would hurt him more than it'd help."
"Well, he's not wrong there. What do you think would happen if your cooperation was found out now? Brnyjolf would be hung, the Thieves Guild burned, and the location of your Sanctuary revealed if I had to guess..."
Astrid sighs, "Just find out what you can from him, you owe us, what I'm asking you isn't much."
...
"Fine. Personally, I think you'd be better off leaving Skyrim for the time being, the Empire would probably pay you for your 'service' even if you weren't responsible. After all, if everyone thinks you did it, why not get paid for it?"
"I don't know you understand the Brotherhood's situation. We had to flee from Cyrodil due to the Emperor's men relentlessly hunting us. I'd say he hates us more than Skyrim's independence..."
"Then go to the Thalmor, I hear they have a need for talented assassins." he drawls noncommittally.
"Again, they are among those who hunt us."
Michael chuckles, "Man, you guys are like Jews, everyone hates you no matter where you go, maybe you should search for your 'Holy Land'?"
...
"Will you ask Brynjolf or not?" Astrid angrily asks.
"I said yes already, I'll go visit him personally later. So, unless you guys want a drink?"
"No, we've got other matters to attend to." Astrid says as she stands, Eleril downing Michael's half-full drink as she follows.
"Oh! And if shit really hits the fan, I know a group of folks who probably wouldn't mind sharing their castle with you."
"I'll think about it, if 'Shit' truly does hit a 'fan'." Astrid says as she exits, leaving Michael isolated yet again.
"Oi! Another drink if you could!" he calls out to a blue-skinned waitress who winks at him. "No no... Keep it in your pants... Tiff's waiting at home..." He mentally scolds himself.
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
Niggross
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