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ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

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Call of the Blood 8.2/?

[(Anonymous)]

I washed hurriedly, skin goose-pimpling from the cold night and the even colder water. My leather felt like a second skin after the roughness of the prison garb, though it took me two tries to put my trousers on the right way in the dim light. When I turned round Vilkas had pulled on a linen shirt but was sat in the same position.

"So do we need to beat a hasty retreat? What happened in there?"
"I...might have…killed Madanach." The last two words ran together and I sat heavily back down on the bed.
"You what?"
"I killed Madanach. He was the one behind all this. He'd been planning to invade Markarth from the inside; Cidhna Mine was full of Forsworn sympathisers, any criminal who didn't swear fealty to Madanach got killed in there. Nepos was his contact with the outside world and had arranged for the guards to provide them with weapons in exchange for their lives when Madanach staged his revolt. It's all in here." I picked up Madanach's journal and flicked it open to a random page. "He would have killed every Nord or non-Forsworn in this city, in the Reach. I couldn't let that happen again...yet I don't know if I did the right thing in killing him." I sounded lost, even to my own ears.

Vilkas sighed, "Sometimes there's no right decision. All you can do is make what you judge to be the best choice at the time."
I looked over my shoulder at him, smiling weakly, "You're quite smart, you know, for a grumpy idiot."
"And you really are trouble." He sounded almost admiring, though that had to be my exhausted imagination playing tricks on me.
I smiled wryly, "No, I really get in to trouble. There's a difference."
"Not from where I'm standing," he interjected dryly, "Now, give me that journal and I'll go clear your name with the Jarl."
I handed it over then paused to rummage through my pack once more, pulling out a thicker book, "This is Nepos's. It's written in what looks like dwemer, there's a wizard called Calcemo at the Keep, he should be able to translate it but I'd bet it contains his list of contacts and plots."
"I know. It's already been translated and the translation will be ready soon. Calcemo the wizard has been working on it all night, I found your note."
Of course he had.

I stood, hovering awkwardly as he placed the books in his pack, "Vilkas?"
He turned round.
"Thank you, really. I mean it. And take Torvar with you- it'll be safer."
"You need protection more than I do."
I shook my head as I slid my sword into my belt, "I'll be fine, no-one will even see me. But I can't stay here, just in case. There's a empty house just up from Arnleif and Son's, have you seen it?"
Vilkas glared at me, moving back away from the door to stand in front of me, grasping me by the shoulders and pushing me down to sit back on the bed. "Oh no you don't. You are staying right here. You are not going off on your own again."
That man. I growled under my breath, in a huff, arms folded, face pursed, "Fine. I'll stay here like a good girl. Happy?"
He crouched down in front of me, one hand resting besides me on the bed for balance, "I mean it, Igne. Or do you want to go back to Cidhna Mine? Because that's what will happen if you get caught again."
Damn stupid logic.
My scowl softened slightly as the memories of the stinking, unwashed prisoners and their hungry expressions and groping hands returned and I muttered, "No."
"Then let me handle this, alright?"
His voice had softened slightly and I let out a heavy sigh, nodding, "Be careful."
"You too."