I knelt on my hands and knees for a long moment, panting, throat raw.
Damn.
I double-checked they were all dead before I looked round. On the bedside table, in plain sight, lay a battered old journal. I flicked it open. It was written in a familiarly illegible script.
Great. Apparently ancient Dwemer is the fashionable career criminal's go-to language. I'll have to bloody learn it when I get a chance.
Fumbling around on Nepos's desk I scribbled 'Calcemo' on a scrap of vellum and tucked it inside his journal, shoving it deep into my pack. I might be screwed but I couldn't afford to lose this journal. If the worst came to the worst Vilkas would know what to do. Now I had to save Eltrys. If I could. What I needed was more time.
"TIID KLO UL"
The Shout was agony on my sore throat but time slowed, turning the world blue. I headed up, no sign of the guards yet, and hid the satchel in the doorway of the empty house at the top of the stairs. Then I ran. The world righted as I slammed open the door to the Shrine and sprinted down the steps, stopping at the foot as I stared at the crumpled body stretched across the shrine like a sacrificial offering.
Too late.
Lifting my eyes from my failure to the shadows at the edge of the room I took in the entire company of guards, weapons drawn, that now surrounded me. The dark primitive part of me was urging me to fight, to slaughter them all, to make them pay but the more rational side was coldly calculating. I'd never win and then Eltrys would never get his justice that he had gave his life for. Three of them approached, one of them holding manacles, "You are under arrest for the murders of Eltrys and Betrid Silver-Blood and for conspiracy to overthrow Jarl Igmund."
Who's the other one? But they clearly hadn't realised Nepos is dead. That's something.
"You have two choices, murderer. You can fight us and we'll kill you and those two louts you came here with or you can surrender and we'll let them live and you go to jail."
That was a choice?
I let my weapon drop, clanging to the floor harshly in the silent Shrine. "Smart girl."
Call of the Blood 6.3/?
Damn.
I double-checked they were all dead before I looked round. On the bedside table, in plain sight, lay a battered old journal. I flicked it open. It was written in a familiarly illegible script.
Great. Apparently ancient Dwemer is the fashionable career criminal's go-to language. I'll have to bloody learn it when I get a chance.
Fumbling around on Nepos's desk I scribbled 'Calcemo' on a scrap of vellum and tucked it inside his journal, shoving it deep into my pack. I might be screwed but I couldn't afford to lose this journal. If the worst came to the worst Vilkas would know what to do. Now I had to save Eltrys. If I could. What I needed was more time.
"TIID KLO UL"
The Shout was agony on my sore throat but time slowed, turning the world blue. I headed up, no sign of the guards yet, and hid the satchel in the doorway of the empty house at the top of the stairs. Then I ran. The world righted as I slammed open the door to the Shrine and sprinted down the steps, stopping at the foot as I stared at the crumpled body stretched across the shrine like a sacrificial offering.
Too late.
Lifting my eyes from my failure to the shadows at the edge of the room I took in the entire company of guards, weapons drawn, that now surrounded me. The dark primitive part of me was urging me to fight, to slaughter them all, to make them pay but the more rational side was coldly calculating. I'd never win and then Eltrys would never get his justice that he had gave his life for.
Three of them approached, one of them holding manacles, "You are under arrest for the murders of Eltrys and Betrid Silver-Blood and for conspiracy to overthrow Jarl Igmund."
Who's the other one? But they clearly hadn't realised Nepos is dead. That's something.
"You have two choices, murderer. You can fight us and we'll kill you and those two louts you came here with or you can surrender and we'll let them live and you go to jail."
That was a choice?
I let my weapon drop, clanging to the floor harshly in the silent Shrine.
"Smart girl."