Capítulo 510: Gold Boi
Elsewhere, Krev the Skinner, leader of the Silver Hand walks out of the Thalmor Embassy with a scowl on his face. "How dare they order me about like some lockjaw Milk-Drinker!" he glances to his men who were stationed nearby the horses, "You lot, get the horses ready, we're moving for Gallows Rock!"
"Sir, what did they want?" Locke, his lieutenant in all but name asks, noticing his aggregation.
Krev spits on the ground, "The question is, what don't they want! Feckin' knife-ears want me to play along like some sort of stage performer for fuck sake!"
"Will it stop our goal?..."
"No, not even if they flayed me alive and burned me! Not even the entire elf-army could stop us from purging the Companions of the filth that's taken hold of it. we'll bring the Companions to their senses after we've shown them the skins of their 'So-Called-Leaders'."
"What's the plan then? Are we even going to follow it?"
Krev gives a reluctant nod, "Cowards they might be, but they're smart. We'll listen to them for now and rid ourselves of them when the time comes."
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It's been two weeks and Michael had been keeping himself busy... Every other night he'd covertly leave the Spire and go looking for his quarries. The list of corrupt nobles had been burning a hole in his pocket, so dealing with them was his primary fixation.
His current body count included a few merchants that'd come from Elsweyr and Cyrodil, a couple Thanes from Solitude and some new ones in Falkreath. Lastly, he'd killed around three Thalmor spies that'd been magically enslaved, working as ordinary people while occasionally sending letters to the Thalmor. Michael didn't really have a way to free them, nor could he be bothered to really try so, to the grave they go...
Other than that, he'd received a reply from Jarl Elisif... One that basically told him that he was a traitor, deserved death, would pay for betraying Skyrim, deserved death... Oh, and that she would be sending an invasion force to Winterhold... She didn't seem to be lying either with how many troops were massing in Dawnstar.
He'd spoken with Korir, Savos, Enurra, and Irarus about it, and so they'd begun to create and or alter the anti-dragon measures so that they could be used against the Imperial forces should they actually attack.
Ulfric had actually somehow gotten word of this too and had sent a letter offering aid. He was rejected however, as the Eredar, Arch-Mage, and himself didn't want to join either side of the Civil War, even if they were attacked. To be honest, this was just an excuse to claim the moral high ground, once they were attacked they could call themselves the victims and come out with a better reputation than other groups.
Regardless, he had something else to focus on now... During his time 'cleaning up' some folk on his list, he found some information regarding one of Clavicus Vile's artifacts...
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Deal's Den was the name of the establishment, and while it was located in Cyrodil, it wasn't all that far away from where he'd appeared after escaping Merunes Dagon's realm.
The place was a large, three-story building with marble walls and wide-open rooms and gardens. It was located just outside of the Capital city, and had a bustling business to go along with it.
The place was pretty heavily guarded, but from the glazed look in some of the guard's eyes, they weren't all here willingly.
Slipping inside after applying all the stealth spells and going invisible, he was greeted by a large conspicuous statue of Clavicus Vile that sat directly in the center of the game room... To most who had no magical or mental resistances, it'd just look like a regular statue, but to Michael the thing shimmered and glowed... He could feel it pricking at his skin in a weak attempt to gain access to his mind...
"Save your trouble Clavicus, if you can hear me... You should have hid your toy somewhere else." Michael states as he approaches it. Only for a number of guards to step forwards from the sides of the room, each reaching for their weapon as they look towards him.
...
Michael doesn't do or say anything, simply waiting for them to do something first, which they do, ignoring the patrons as they draw their weapons and slowly begin walking towards him.
The patrons don't even notice anything, affected by the Golden Statue which blinds them towards the dangerous right in their midst.
They attack, and die... Michael easily killing the brainwashed guards without even using a single ability. They were as strong as untrained, if unfeeling peasants, making it incredibly easy to deal with them.
After the first group of attackers was dealt with, Michael stepped forward and began preparations for Dimension Gate, which would transport the Golden Statue back to the Eye of the World... It was far too big to be transported via his inventory, so this was the only real option... Unless he wanted to have it carted to Skyrim for a couple months.
As soon as the artifact disappears through the gate, the patrons of the gambling house immediately notice the blood and corpses strewn around. This, obviously, caused a mass exodus, with everyone grabbing their shit and fleeing.
Michael doesn't immediately leave though, the owner of the gambling house was still around.
Heading up the stairs and walking past the fleeing gamblers, he soon finds a big office at the very top of the property, the door of which he destroys with a firm kick that completely shatters it.
"HIIIiiii!!!!" A fat man inside utters, horrified at the intrusion... The shrapnel from the destroyed door had knocked him backwards off of his chair, leaving him in a fetal position on the ground.
"Hello Keo Umpiel! I'm sure you're very excited to greet me, so I'll just take your snivelling and crying as that." Michael exclaims as he walks inside, throwing the large desk aside to reveal his target.
"W-Who are you!?"
"Oh right... You wouldn't know me..." he shakes his head, "Whatever, you're my second prisoner now, try not to annoy me and I swear you will be freed." 'from this mortal coil' he mentally adds as he grabs the man and returns home... Not before looting the gambling house clean and burning it to the ground first however.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
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