Chapter8, Location:- Broken Tower Redoubt, Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Sundas 15th.

Chapter8

Location:- Broken Tower Redoubt.

Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Sundas 15^th

Delte and the others watched the ruined fort from behind the rocky outcrop on top of the cliffs opposite of the main entrance to the old fort. The remains of an old tower strewn about them, Volk had explained that it use to be a bridge that span the gulley with battlements for archers to hide behind in case of attack. It was one of the few roads between Markarth and Whiterun at one point and this was considered a safe point to cross, but sometime ago there was an earthquake that brought the bridge down and so the fort was abandoned and left to ruin. The ruins of the tower they now hid in is what is left of the stones that the local residents had not yet stolen for their own homes.

On the battlements opposite screams of pain issued forth from the survivors from the attack on Rorikstead, those that had returned had been quickly subdued and placed on racks out in the open. The cultist priests now started to strip the flesh off the cultists that had been part of the raiding party on the town of Rorikstead, the strips of which was placed into an ornate wooden box inlaid with golden daedric runes. The raiders were being kept alive through dark magic, as each one was stripped of their flesh the skeletons were freed to join the rest of the undead that guarded the fort. The sky above was shot through with red clouds giving the whole scene a horrifying vista which could of just been happening in Oblivion rather than Tamriel.

The cult priests wore long loose white robes that had been splashed by blood and offal from their victims. Their faces covered by bronze masks that represented their master Molag Bal. The skeletal servants carried the wooden box that held the stripped flesh were of various races. The newer undead could easily be identified from the red stains on their bones and where bits of flesh and sinew still clung on to the old frame of its former host.

“Oh gods why are they doing that to their own people?” Johan said in a hushed whisper the sound of revulsion present in his tone.

“They are weak and deserve to be punished.” Delte responded “Only the strong shall serve the Lord of Domination.”

“Why keep the flesh though?” Volk asked amazed by what he witnessed.

“Those runes keeps the flesh alive inside the box.” Left-Paw-Alight answered as he watched the whole scene trying to take in as much information as he could “The flesh could be used to make a flesh atronach. We must stop them before they manage to do this.”

“Four against all of them?” Johan said looking at the others in shock.

“Yeah I don't like the odds either.” Volk said as he stroked his black beard in thought “I would of liked to have more of them, would be a fair fight then at least.”

“What!” Johan replied his head snapping back to look at Volk hoping to see a smile on his face. Delte and Left-Paw-Alight just chuckled which didn't relieve Johan from the thought of them going up against the fort filled with cultists.

“We should go in from the top.” Delte said as she pointed to one of the towers that had its back against the cliff face “Climb down to the top of that tower, then we take the upper battlements where the poor sods are being tortured and then reinforce our position there, while I scout the inside to see what we are really up against.”

“Agreed.” Volk and Left-Paw-Alight said in unison.

“Lets move we need to make our way to the other side and above the tower before night fall.” Volk said as he crept backwards away from the boulder that hid him from view of the old fort.

Location:- Shatter-Shield Clan Hold North of Whiterun on the Boarder to Morthal.

Date:- 2E 581First Seed Morndas 16^th

The Shatter-Shield clan hold sat a top a mountain plateau surrounded by a tall wooden palisade. On either side of the main gate two large wooden towers stood like silent sentinels. Guards patrolled along the wall and watched the farmers that tended to their crops outside of the walled area. At night the farmers would return to the walled area with their flock to keep them safe from any night time predators whether it be bandits or the local wildlife that roamed the wilderness at night.

Brom rode up the main approach under the mid day sun, after riding all night he was beginning to feel tired and in need of a rest. Where his arm that had been broken and latter healed by the Breton woman Serena, a large bruise had now started to come out. He reached round to his saddle bag and pulled out a hollowed out horn from a horker and blew a two tone note to signal the guards he was friendly. As he approached the gate guards came to greet the young lord on his return home. Brom dismounted his horse and let the stable hands take it away to be tended to. He looked around at the guards looking for a familiar face.

“Where is my father and Kavak?” Brom asked as he brushed his armour down and arranged his fur lined cloak.

“Your father is locked in the long hall and not to be disturbed.” Kavak said as he walked up to greet Brom “I heard your call as you arrived Brom, good journey was it?”

Brom turned and faced Kavak who was Ulfbert's second. He had also been Volk and Brom's old teacher in the art of combat and strategy. Although going grey and age etched on his rugged features the man still made an imposing sight. Kavak had a shaved head that showed a mottled black and grey pattern in the stubble. His long braided beard still mostly jet black covered his chin and mouth, from under two bushy eyebrows two green eyes shone. Broad shoulders and thick muscled arms belied the power this old warrior could summon in battle when wielding his large two handed sword that was slung across his back. Kavak's sword was unique in that its handle was twice as long as the usual nordic design, the handle had no cross guard to it. On the end of the pommel was a carved metal wolfs head. With the handle being longer than it should be this made the blade about half the length of a normal two handed sword. When used in battle by Kavak he swung it like one would swing a staff but with the weight of the blade and with his strength behind this unique weapon it made a deadly combination. Kavak wore a set of furs that protected him from the cold and underneath a suit of chainmail armour with a chest plate and shoulder plates to help deflect attacks in battle.

“Rorikstead was attacked by daedra cultists Kavak.” Brom said as he greeted the older man “Volk has asked for you and the oathsworn to ride out and reinforce the town. I must also speak to the Old Bear, we know where the vipers have their nest. Volk and Paws are there now waiting for me to return with help.”

“The Old Bear has given orders not to be disturbed till tomorrow morning.” Kavak said as he shook Broms hand in the warrior's greeting “He even told all of us to leave the hall, servants and guards all.”

Brom snorted and started to walk through the settlement towards the large longhall that sat atop the hill in the centre dominating the skyline. The longhall was built out of the large pine trees that grew in abundance in Skyrim. The pillars that held up the entrance way and most of the structure was carved with nord runes and pictograms that depicted the Shatter-Shield clan history and saga of ages past that the clan's skalds used to entertain people and teach the younger generation of their heritage.

Kavak walked by Brom's side “Brom I am worried” he confessed to him “Shortly before your father ordered everyone to leave the longhall a group of black robed priests came to visit him.”

“Who are they?” Brom asked as he quickened his pace “What god do they follow?”

“I don't know.” Kavak said in reply trying to keep up with the younger man. “I wasn't present at the time, my men told me when I got back from patrol.”

“Who sent you on patrol Kavak?” Brom said looking at the older warrior.

“Your father Brom. He told me to take half of the men out to scout the northern boarders.” Kavak replied with guilt in his voice.

Brom came to a sudden stop twenty paces from the main doors to the longhall. Instead of being greeted by the sight of two oathsworn he saw two seven foot tall black armoured warriors sporting large spiked maces that stood as tall as Brom and Kavak. The black armour had energy glowing an angry red that seemed to curl into daedric runes. The full face helms had two glowing eyes staring out at the two men.

“Gather the oathsworn.” Brom said to Kavak “We have daedra to kill and my father to save.”

Men and women assembled behind Brom as he continued to watch the two guards at the doors to the longhall. The daedra stood motionless like a pair of black statues, the only thing that belied the fact they was alive was the sight of their breath on the cold air and the glowing red eyes deep in the helmets. Kavak appeared by Brom's side and he handed him a shield, as Brom put the shield on his left arm Kavak placed a helmet over his head and strapped it in place.

“Ready?” Kavak said to Brom.

“Lets do this,” Brom replied with a nod and drew his own sword “all with me.” He raised his sword and started to jog towards the two daedra. The jog turned into a running charge, ten yards from the doors Brom gave a mighty nord battle cry the power in his voice reverberated around the settlement. The sound of his battle charge bolstered the oathsworn and as one they answered back with their own call. The battle cry seemed to galvanise the two daedra into action as they took up their large two handed maces and entered a guard position, they started to move forwards to meet the nord charge head on. The two forces met in a mighty clash of arms. The large maces of the daedra crushed two of the oathsworn, Brom and Kavak ran past them both and turned to cut them down from behind before they could raise the maces to strike a second time. Brom tried the two large oak doors to the longhall and found them locked in place from the inside.

“Axes.” Kavak shouted “Get me in there.” he pointed to the doors.

Three nords ran up to the doors each wielding large two handed axes and began to chop their way through the oak. A rhythm was soon established and within moments the doors hung in tatters with the locking bar broken in two. Brom and Kavak kicked the doors open and ran into the main hall followed by the rest of the oathsworn. The band came to a sudden stop due to the sight that lay before them.

The centre of the hall was dominated by a black stone altar set on a dais that had no seam and looked as if it had been grown from the very rock that the longhall was built upon. A statue behind the altar showed the stony visage of Molag Bal in all his gruesome glory, a human skull grasped firmly in his taloned hand. Black robed priests surrounded the altar with their heads bowed and chanting, on the dais stood a man dressed in a cloak of freshly skinned human skin arms raised in supplication to the statue. In his hands he held a wicked carved dagger that sported evil daedra runes that pulsed with energy. Hanging from the rafters of the hall were some of the servants stripped of their flesh and pools of blood gathering underneath each one. A babies cry was heard coming from the altar, as Brom worked his way round the back of the room he saw a small boy tied to the altar. He recognised the child as that of his nephew and son of Volk and Gresla his wife.

“Kill them all.” Brom shouted and charged at the closest priest cutting him down and interrupting the ritual.

With the death of the priest the rest of the cultists drew various weapons and entered into a melee with the oathsworn, as they did clouds of purple smoke erupted around the hall and their daedra servants tore through the veil that separated Oblivion from Nirn to help in the fray.

“Kill the priests and break the link of their servants.” Kavak shouted the order above the din of battle as he cut down two cultists with his sword.

The priest wearing the human skin cloak turned around and faced Brom. He stopped in his tracks as he looked upon his fathers face.

“Brom my son stand by me in my moment of ascension.” Ulfbert said with his face covered in the blood of his house servants.

Brom's stomach churned his body started to shake with the now conflicting emotions that were running through his mind.

“What is this madness father?” Brom managed through his shock and revulsion “Are you under a spell or being forced to do this?”

“I am in full control.” Ulfbert said spreading his arm wide “My grandson's blood sacrifice will ensure my own immortality in service to the new one god of this world Molag Bal.”

“You raided Volk's farm and killed his eldest, what happened to Gresla?” Realisation struck Brom as to why Volk's home was raided. He looked around for his elder brother and said “Where is Kym my older brother? He would not be part of this I know it.”

Ulfbert shook his head and said “I told him of what we could achieve but he rebelled against me.” an almost sadness in his voice as he slowly pointed to the human skull griped by the statue “So I gave him a place of honour to watch my moment of glory.”

Brom pointed his sword at Ulfbert his heart pounding with rage and spoke in a loud and clear voice above the din of battle that ragged about them. “I challenge you for the right to rule in single combat.”

“Then come at me Boy.” Ulfbert replied with a grin “When you die Volk will be given the chance to join me.”

Around Brom and Ulfbert the battle between the oathsworn and the daedra raged as the priests were killed their daedra servants vanished in puffs of acrid smoke and a scream of frustration. Slowly the cultists were wining due to the weight of numbers against the elite soldiers of the Shatter-Shield clan. Brom gave a battle cry the sound coming from his very soul tainted with his pain and anguish at the revelations of his fathers betrayal of everything he held sacred.

“Reka inn landi.” Brom shouted in his native nord tongue.

A visual wave of energy swept over the oathsworn which seemed to bolster their resolve as Brom charged at his father. Ulfbert ran to meet the charge, a large two handed daedric axe appeared in his hands as he did so.

Brom gained the upper hand and pressed the attack quickly against Ulfbert, the older man stepped back parrying and dodging the assault. He checked one of Broms blows as the back of his right foot hit the wall. Their weapons locked as the fight now became a test of strength. Brom felt his knees going as his father bore down with all his weight and strength onto Brom. Just as he thought his legs were about to give he heard Left-Paw-Alight speak to him from a long ago memory after witnessing the devastation of am hurricane that had swept through the lands when he was younger. “In a hurricane it is better to be a reed than a strong oak.”

Brom dropped onto his right knee and twisted at the hip, Ulfbert surprised at the sudden void of resistance stumbled past trying to stay on his feet. Brom turned quickly back on his feet and pressed the advantage. Ulfbert's long years and expertise in combat allowed him to defend himself even though he was unbalanced, this gave him time to gain his footing once more.

Ulfbert kicked Brom back and followed the move with a running jump bringing his two handed axe down onto the shield Brom held up to protect himself as he struggled to get up off the floor. His shield shattered in two from the blow as the axe struck home, he kicked at Ulfbert's knee which gave way sending his father to the floor with a grunt.

Brom stood up and sliced the leather straps that now held the ruined shield to his arm and drew his dagger. He changed tact in his strategy by reversing his grip on the sword, a move he had seen Delte do in Rorikstead. Ulfbert stood up and gave a frown at the change of fighting style that he now adopted, this turned into a smile and he beckoned his son to attack him.

“Come on Boy, you want to have leadership of the clan. Come and take it.” Ulfbert said in a mocking tone.

Brom started to weave his sword through the air and ran at his father, the speed of the sword pressed the old warrior back into a defensive posture as he parried each pass of the fast moving sword. Shock spread across his face as Brom's dagger pierced his chainmail and entered his left lung, he dropped his daedric axe which vanished back to Oblivion before it hit the floor. Brom's sword sliced across Ulfbert's throat and in one swift movement Brom changed his grip once more on his sword and rammed it through his fathers heart and out through the back. His father was dead before his head hit the stone floor, Brom looked around the hall at the oathsworn that still lived. They had defeated the cultists before the end of Brom's fight with his father and stood to watch an old tradition carried on, Kavak stood and smiled with a nod to Brom happy to see the old traditions to be fulfilled. He then went down on one knee along with the rest of the oathsworn.

“We swear to up hold the laws of the clan and serve the Shattered-Shield as Shor is our witness.” Kavak along with the rest of the oathsworn said which reaffirmed their oaths to Brom and his family.

Brom stood in shock at the scene he had killed his own father for being in league with the very people who he had pretended to be hunting down. The man who had raided his brothers farm and killed his eldest nephew in cold blood. A cry from the altar brought him out of his shock, he turned his head and looked at the baby boy laying tied to the dread altar. Slowly he cut the bonds and gently picked up the infant, as he rocked gently to try and calm the child he turned to Kavak and said. “He won't stop crying, I don't think he is hurt.”

“I think he needs his mother Brom.” Kavak replied with a grin “You don't have what it takes for what ails him. Itard go and find my nephew's wife the poor bairn needs a wet nurse.”

“Clean up this mess and cut those poor sods down.” Brom ordered the oathsworn as he pointed up at the dead servants “I want our dead to be honoured.”

“And your father?” Kavak inquired.

“Burn him with the other cultists.” Came the reply from Brom without emotion “That man wasn't my father.”

The comment hurt Kavak due to the long years of friendship he had with Ulfbert, but could understand Brom's wishes and so with a silent nod he left Brom and began to help in the clean up of the longhall.

Brom sat in his fathers chair with his nephew still clutched to him crying for his mother naked as the day he was born. A few minutes passed and a young woman was escorted into the hall and up to where Brom sat with the baby. She was dressed in a simple blue cotton dress, her long golden hair hung loose over her shoulders. Brom looked at her approaching and she smiled at him, her large brown eyes trying not to look at the carnage that laid around them.

“This is Joldi my nephew's wife.” Kavak introduced her to Brom “She gave birth to a baby girl two weeks ago my lord.”

“What is her name?” Brom asked Joldi.

“Her name is Hreira my lord.” she said with a slight curtsey “I have enough milk to look after your nephew.” she added with a smile.

Brom stood up and offered Joldi the chair he was sat in and gently handed over his nephew to the young mother. She took him and barred her swollen breast and offered it to the child which latched on easily and started to suck.

“Something wrong my lord?” Joldi asked as she noticed Brom watching her.

“No I was just thinking what a beautiful sight. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” Brom replied going red with embarrassment. He looked around the hall and added “Joldi when you have fed Fraki could you take him to some place that has a nicer surround? This place is not fit for a baby at the moment.”

Joldi nodded and rocked gently back and forth to comfort Fraki as he drank his fill.

“My lord what are your orders for the oathsworn?” Kavak addressed Brom as he left the hall.

“Take them to Rorikstead leave half of them there to help rebuild and defend the town.” Brom said still not use to the new title that he had been given “Then you take the rest onto the ruined fort of Broken Tower Redoubt to look for Volk, kill any cultists you find.”

“Who will guard the hall?” Kavak inquired as he walked with Brom to the main doors.

“I will call up the militia it is time they worked off the winter fat.” came the reply from Brom.

Chapter 7, Location:- Rorikstead, Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Loredas 14th.

Chapter 7

Location:- Rorikstead

Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Loredas 14^th

The outskirts of the town was in ruins, burnt shells of buildings all starting to collapse in on themselves. Charred corpses littered the road where some of the occupants that had managed to escape the fires but either been cut down by the raiders or died from their burns. Volk charged past the devastation his senses hardened by years of constant warfare. Brom struggled as he looked for survivors, until Delte passed him and turned a corner in the road to head towards the town centre from a different angel to Volk's route. This snapped Brom from out of his doldrums, by the time he rounded the same corner Delte was stood on her horseback with daggers drawn bearing down on the raiders. As it reached the barricade she jumped off using the momentum to sail over the heads of the attackers. She landed on both feet and killed two of them in one move. Delte parried blow after blow from another two attackers, one of the attackers over extended and over balanced. Delte exploited this and dispatched him in one swift move. Brom fought for his life against an armoured man wielding a huge two handed sword. He caught an over head swing on his shield that popped the iron rim off its rivets the blow jarred Brom's arm and he pushed the large sword to the left while stepping in and killing the armoured man by ramming his sword up at an angle underneath the breastplate. He turned to check on Delte she had dispatched the other assailant and was now being hard pressed by a giant of a man swinging a huge two handed axe.

Delte dodged each swing of the slow weapon that was being used by the large man sporting a bushy black beard and long black greasy hair. The only attire he wore was a fur loin cloth. His naked torso was covered in daedric runes and ritual scars. Each time she tried to step in for the kill her opponent had seen it coming and checked the move. He swung the axe again and as Delte moved in anticipation of the attack he quickly changed its direction and caught a glancing blow to Delte's head. Dazed and disoriented she fell to the ground. Blood ran down one side of her face and her vision was blurred, laying on her back on the hard dirt packed road daggers crossed up in a guard position her legs pumped trying to move away and give her time to recover her senses. Slowly her vision cleared only to see the huge towering form of the man bearing down on her he brought his axe up high to finish her off. Delte closed her eyes waiting for the end.

The death blow never came Delte opened her eyes and saw Brom stood over her, the remains of his shield hung from his arm that had blocked the blow. His face a rictus of pain the snap Delte had heard was the sound of his arm breaking. She sat up and rammed her dagger between the 3^rd and 4^th rid of the bearded man killing him. He slowly toppled over backwards like a huge oak tree that had been felled. Brom sliced the leather straps to his now ruined shield that still clung to his broken arm, a movement in Brom's periphery vision got his attention. He turned to see another raider rushing towards them swinging two swords. The man stopped dead in his tracks and looked down at the two arrows that had appeared in his chest then fell down dead. Delte and Brom looked around and saw Johan stood on a barn roof nocking another arrow. A strange lull came over the scene of battle and a babies crys came from within one of the burning buildings, Delte's sharp hearing picked up the sound, before Brom could stop her she dove through the doorway and vanished into the flames. He looked over the barricades at where Volk and Left-Paw-Alight were fighting and made his way over to them to help in their skirmish.

Left-Paw-Alight used his staff to parry a sequence of attacks from a dunmer with a longsword and a parrying dagger. With each parry a ball of kinetic energy built up on each end of his staff. Left-Paw-Alight feinted to the right his dunmer opponent fell for the ruse and left himself open to the follow up attack. One end of Paws's staff struck him squarely in the chest, the kinetic energy on the end of the staff that struck the dunmer exploded and sent him flying back against the stable wall. His dead body fell to the floor the chest cavity caved in from the blast. Left-Paw-Alight looked around and saw three more attackers coming towards him, he twirled his staff and slammed the unspent energy ball onto the ground. A wave of kinetic energy spread out and threw the three would be attackers to the ground. Johan pinned each one with an arrow and they never got back up.

Delte dashed though the common room of the burning house, flames licked at her and the smoke made her eyes water. Her innate dunmer resistance to fire and heat allowed her to move fairly freely in the inferno. Another cry from a small room gained her attention and she homed in on it. A small bundle of blankets moved in a cot, Delte ran over and picked up the small baby and then made her way back out of the burning inferno.

Brom turned a corner on his way to help Volk and Paws. In the middle of the street a Breton woman was in a magical dual with a man in black robes wearing a blood red mask. Lighting arched between the two mages, the air had a tangy taste and smell of iron to it. The breton woman gave a cry of shock as her wards fell, this galvanised Brom into action. Quietly stepping up behind the enemy mage he rammed his sword into his back and gave it a twist, as he pulled it free the man fell dead to the ground. The breton woman stood straight and gave Brom a smile of thanks and ran back to the barricades.

With the death of the enemy mage most of the attackers vanished in puffs of acrid smoke and a scream as their tether to Nirn was severed. The remaining mortal attackers devoid of their daedric support dropped their weapons and fled. A huge cheer erupted from the citizens left alive as they realised their victory.

Delte ran through the front entrance to the burning house with the small child clutched tightly to her chest. Once out in the fresh air she took a few deep breath to clear her lungs of the smoke she had inhaled. Gently she placed the small bundle of sheets on the ground and unwrapped them. A small human child lay there before her unmoving, its tiny lips had gone blue. Tears welled up in Delte's eyes and ran down her soot covered face leaving clean tracks of skin. A blue glow emanated from her hands as she poured healing magicka into the small form that laid before her on the ground. A scaled hand was placed on her shoulder and a familiar voice spoke with concern. “Delte the child is dead.” Paws said to her “Save your energy for the living.”

Delte shook his hand off and carried on trying to heal the small baby. Paws shook his head and walked away.

People were milling around still dazed by what had happened to them and their small town, work teams had started to put out the fires and try to save what property they could. Brom sat on a stone wall as the breton woman healed his broken arm, his attention was alerted to three women huddled together crying over a burnt corpse of a man. Delte appeared holding a small bundle of soot stained blankets, her cloak was burnt around the edges, her leather armour covered in soot. Her face covered in black soot also apart from the strips of skin where her tears had cleaned it off. One of the women looked up at her and wailed as she recognised the blankets. She stood up and slowly walked towards Delte with apprehension. Delte smiled as a small leg moved and poked out from within the bundle. The woman stopped crying and hitched up her skirt and ran over to where Delte was stood. Delte gently handed over the baby to the woman, as the child recognised the familiar voice of it mother a happy gurgling sound came from the blankets.

“Some joy survived this day at least.” The breton woman said to Brom.

“Aye and to think I was going to stop her from going into the burning building.” Brom said as he flexed his fingers.

“You was concerned for a friend, that is understandable.” She said with a smile as she finished the healing spell.

Brom held out his open hand to the woman and looked into her green eyes framed by long black curly hair. “My name is Brom Shatter-Shield.” He said to her.

The breton woman looked down at his hand and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek “Serena and thank you for helping fight off the attackers.”

Brom blushed and looked down at his feet to the amusement of Serena.

“I best see to the wounded.” She said to Brom as she picked up her staff and walked away. She paused and turned back to look at Brom and asked. “Why did they attack our town? Who were they?”

“Daedric cultists of Molag Bal.” Brom replied before he could stop himself.

Serena's smile faded “Are you and your friends hunting them?”

Brom nodded and walked over to her “I would like to help you with the injured, and maybe while you teach me some of the finer details I can talk to you about the attackers.”

Glad for the company she nodded and they started going around the wounded townsfolk.

Delte stood and watched the mother now reunited with her baby, dead townsfolk lay all about bunt and bleeding with open wounds on the ground. Left-Paw-Alight came to stand by her side and watched for a moment with a smile.

“I am glad you didn't listen to me Delte.” he said to her “The town elder wishes to talk with us, are you coming?”

Delte nodded and turned to leave with Paws to meet with the elder.

A man in his twilight years dressed in scale mail leaning on a large two handed sword was deep in conversation with Volk. The man's long grey hair blew freely in the breeze. He sported a long bushy beard that was more grey than its original red, but his blue eyes still held some fire of life to them. His armour had gone rusty in places and some of the straps had not been fastened due to the rush of putting it on during the initial attack. The sword he leaned on had fresh notches along its length and was now slightly bent from the years of use and now neglect.

“Delte, Paws this is elder Sven Jager.” Volk said as way of introduction “He has some interesting information about our friends.”

“Delte, Paws thank you for your timely intervention.” Sven said “If you hadn't of come when you did we would all be dead.”

“Brom and Johan are helping tend the wounded.” Paws told Volk and Sven as he shook hands with the elder.

“As I was saying to Volk the raiders came from the north.” Sven said to the three of them “Not sure why though, all we have here is grain, potatoes and goats.”

“People.” Delte said in reply “You have people that is why they attacked.”

“Sorry miss but I don't understand.” Sven replied as he ran his fingers through his long grey hair.

“They are daedric cultists looking for slaves and souls of sentient beings.” She explained to the elder “You need to send word to Whiterun and Markarth and let them know what has transpired here.”

“We go north from here then?” Paws said looking at Volk.

“I have had reports from local hunters about strange lights and sightings of undead at an old fort on the boarder to the Reach and Whiterun.” Sven said as Volk stroked his beard in thought “I thought nothing of it until now, you know hunters drunk around a camp fire telling each other stories.”

Volk nodded in agreement and said “Hardly worth our time investigating rumours from drunk wildmen. We go north from here.”

“No!” came the reply from Delte “We should investigate the fort. These hunters if they are anything like the ashlanders of Morrowind simple ghost stories wouldn't scare them. They are often made of sturdier stuff than your average local.”

“I am not going to argue Delte.” Volk turned and looked her in her eyes “We go north, I am not going to gamble on this one. My wife and child's lives are at steak here.”

“What is north from here Volk? Where can the cultists hide and do their worshipping north of here?” Delte replied back.

“From here only Morthal and Solitude.” Paws said as he followed the discussion “No ruins to speak of or any real cave systems.”

“Brom.” Volk shouted over to his brother and waved him to come over.

Brom left Serena and walked over to where Volk was stood a huge grin on his face.

“Stop your flirting with that breton whore, I have a job for you.” Volk said as he approached.

“She is not a whore, and her name is Serena.” Brom said in a hurt tone “She is the town healer for Rorikstead and the out lying farms.”

“No matter, I want you to ride to our clan longhall and report to the old bear. Ask him to send Kavak and his oathsworn over to Rorikstead to bolster the defences here.”

Brom nodded and walked over to where Johan had tied up the horses Delte walked with him.

“Thank you Brom for saving my life.” Delte said as she walked arm in arm with the young nord.

Brom shrugged “It's ok, I broke my arm but Serena fixed it for me.”

“She likes you Brom, be careful on the road.” Delte replied with a smile.

“How do you know she likes me?” Brom asked as he mounted his horse.

“Woman's intuition.” Delte said with a smile and a wink as she left Brom and walked back to Volk and Paws. Johan followed close behind with bow in hand.

“So where to now?” Johan asked Delte as they walked back.

“An old fort west of here on the boarder to the Reach and Whiterun.” Delte replied.

“I thought Volk was set on going north.” Johan said in a confused tone.

“He is.” came the reply from Delte with a knowing smile.

When Delte had arrived back to the conversation Volk had planted daggers and stones on the ground. One large rock showed where Rorikstead was and two daggers showed Solitude and Morthal. A twig showed where the ruined fort was on the boarder of the two holds. Volk shook his head “The only thing north of here would be reachmen and they are more xenophobic than the maormer.” he said

“You also have your family hold on the northern boarders to Whiterun and Morthal Volk.” Paws said as he looked at the makeshift map “If the cultists are north of here they would of run afoul of your fathers patrols.”

“Yes your right so Delte's assumptions maybe correct and its the only thing we have to go on.” Volk conceded the point “I guess we go to the old fort of Broken Tower from here then and hope the hunters were right to fear the place.”

Chapter 6, Location:- Road to Rorikstead, Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Turdas 12th.

Chapter 6

Location:- Road to Rorikstead

Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Turdas 12^th.

By the time Volk had finished digging at the bottom of the well and pulled out a large plain lead sealed chest it was mid morning. The funeral pyre they had set alight was now blazing away with black greasy smoke billowing up in a column that rose high up into the clear blue sky. Volk and Johan heaved the chest over the well wall and set to chiseling off the lead seal. Johan stood and watched in silence after helping Volk haul it out of the well. With the last part of the seal removed Volk threw open the lid to the chest, the sun glinted off polished metal and gold within. Johan gasped in shock at seeing the wealth inside as Volk dug in and pulled out a chainmail coat and leggings.

"I keep these for reserve and the money is my savings." Volk said in way of an explanation "I bury them to keep them safe from bandits and thieves"

"Now I know where to look." Johan replied with a grin on his face.

Volk laughed and shook his head "I will move it when we get back."

"Found your axes Volk, and the gold from your payment from the general." Delte interrupted the two men.

Volk nodded and closed the lid to the chest once more, with the items he needed removed from its contents he shoved the chest once more over the well wall and let it sink back down into the mud at the bottom of the well.

"Sort out the horses while I get my armour on. Then we will be off." Volk said as he headed back to the house.

"We only have two horses left Volk." Delte shouted after him as she ran to catch up.

"I know that, and that is why you and Johan ride together until we reach Whiterun stables." He said and then shut the door to the house.

Delte turned around and scowled at Johan who instantly looked at the ground still unsure of the dunmer female.

"Bloody n'wah." Delte spat at Johan "Why do I have to ride with him?"

"Now now Delte," Paws said as he came round leading the two horses "you are lighter of frame than myself and Volk. Less of a strain on the horse, and Volk and I can take turns to ride my mount."

Delte snatched her horse's reigns out of Left-Paw_Alight's hand and started to checks the harness.

"Fine but he puts his hands someplace I don't like they are coming off at his elbows." Delte continued her rant.

Left-Paw-Alight chuckled as he checked the harness on his own horse. "Don't worry Johan, Delte can be rather charming once you get to know her." He said hiding behind his own horse as he tried not to laugh.

"Shut it Paws." Came the reply from Delte

This proved to much for Left-Paw-Alight who couldn't hold the laugh in any longer, Delte realising she was being wound up tried not to laugh which only resulted in a huge smirk spreading across her face.

"Damned lizard." Delte said as she tried not to laugh.

"That's me." Paws replied as he regained his composure.

Inside the house Volk chuckled at the loud conversation going on outside between Delte and Left-Paw-Alight as he put on the chainmail armour. Over the coat of chain he wore a tabard that had a yellow wooden shield being spliced in twain by an axe of white set on a dark blue background. On top of this he had a set of thick leather straps that held his weapons in place, his twin axes now back on his hips and in easy reach, a large two handed sword sheathed on his back. As Volk turned to leave his home he stopped at a small shrine dedicated to Shor and knelt before it with his two handed sword drawn. Hands resting on the pommel he bowed his head and prayed to the dead god of war of the nord people.

"Shor grant me the strength of Ysgramor and his five hundred, so that I may find my wife Gresla and child safe."

With his prayers said he stood up and sheathed his sword once more and left the house to join his companions for the ride to Whiterun.


 

Location:- Whiterun Stables

Date:- Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Turdas 12^th.

Delte and her companions took a steady ride from Volk's farm so as to not cripple their remaining two horses. Volk and Paws would take turns in the saddle during the course of their journey. Starting to feel more at ease Johan began to tell them what had been happening in Skyrim since their departure to Cyrodiil. He also went into more details of the night his village and farm was raided by the cultists.

It was dusk as they arrived at the stables of Whiterun. The farmers had already vacated their fields after a long days toil, the air was filled with a scent of freshly turned soil and manure. In the distance a windmill turned its creaky sails as a cool wind blew down into the grass plains. The sound of barking could be heard coming from the city as packs of stray dogs roamed the streets. Delte shivered and pulled her cloak round tighter to try and keep the chill out, from living for the past couple of years in Cyrodiil and earlier in Elsweyr for most of her childhood. Volk stood at the door to the stable house and gave it a sharp knock with his mailed fist. Muffled voices could be heard inside along with the scraping sound of a chair being pulled along the wooden floor. Slowly the door was pulled open and a gruff voice said “We are shut go away or ye' taste my club.” Then it slammed shut again with a bang.

"I am a son of Skyrim in need of two horses with good gold to pay for them both." Volk shouted at the now shut door.

The door opened again and was quickly filled by a rotund man with rosy cheeks and a grin, wearing a simple outfit of a green woollen tunic and leather breaches which a rope belt attempted to keep them held up and maintain the mans dignity.

"Two horses and gold you say?" The man said to Volk with a cheerful grin.

Volk nodded and patted a pouch of gold on his belt with a smile.

"Name is Olson, and I am the stable master." He said as a way of a greeting to Volk and shook his hand.

"Good to meet you," Volk said "I am Volk Shatter-Shield."

Olson grinned even more recognising the name of the local Thane's son, and looked towards where the rest of the group stood. "Who are the horses for my lord?"

"Myself and Johan there." Volk replied pointing his finger at Johan.

"Follow me I may have what you need." Olson said as he walked to the stable block.

"Delte while I get the horse and harnesses I want you to go to the Jarl." Volk said "Tell him all that has transpired, he needs to know and we may even get some help."

Volk followed the stable master into his house to finalise the sale.

"Why me?" Delte protested as she mounted her horse."He doesn't even know me, why would he take my word?"

"He doesn't like me that is why." Paws said in answer to her protests "Last time I met him I insulted his court mage and the jarl had me physically thrown out."

"What did you do to his mage?" She asked with a smile knowing Paws would not often put a foot wrong in the matters of politics.

"Another time Delte," Paws waved her off "best get going. Knowing Volk he will want to make tracks till midnight which doesn't leave us much time."

Delte set her horse off at a trot towards the large gates to Whiterun, Johan stared at Left-Paw-Alight with his mouth open, Paws looked back at him and shrugged.

"The court mage is an idiot, I was just pointing out the fact to the Jarl." Paws scratched his chin as he thought back to the event "He was implying that Volk and I were skooma smugglers and that only select individuals could work magic, also beast races don't have the ability to work real magic. When in fact anyone with the aptitude to study and learn can work magic. Even you Johan if you applied yourself."

Delte approached the large wooden gates to the city, torches burned brightly in their wall brackets on either side. On the ground large iron braziers gave off their heat from raging fires that burned within them to drive off the chill night air. Two guards stood either side of the gate while a third stood in the middle of the road his right hand resting easily on the hilt of his long sword in his other hand he held a shield with the same emblem as the two guards at the gate. The symbol was that of a strong looking horse painted in black lines on a yellow background.

"Halt traveller." The guard in the road addressed Delte "State your name and purpose."

Delte threw back the hood of her cloak and looked at the man in the eyes. "I come to appraise your jarl on events that are going on in his realm. My name is Delte and the news I have is urgent. Now let me pass."

The guards laughed at her reply, the one who stood in front of her apoke again. "I am sergeant Brant of the guard, and I can not let you in to see the jarl because today's court is closed to petitions. If you could come....."The sergeant was cut short in his reply.

"Listen and listen well n'wah. The jarl has Molag Bal cultists roaming his land. They are killing his subjects and taking away slaves for daedra rituals. You will either let me in now or I will go through you." Delte raised her voice with one hand on her dagger.

The guard sergeant looked back into her violet eyes unsure if she was telling the truth or trying to scare him and his men, those cold alien eyes told him nothing of what was going on in the dunmer's mind which sent a shiver down his spine.

"Fine the horse stays here though, and I will escort you to him." the sergeant said as his underlings opened a small door in the middle of one of the gates.

Delte dismounted her horse and tied it to the fence rail and then followed the sergeant into the city.

The gate slammed shut behind them and sergeant Brant walked by Delte's side. The first thing Delte noticed was the stench of the city, a open sewer ran along the wall down the hill towards the main river. Stray dogs ran in packs down deserted roads and alleyways looking for scraps of food that had been left from the days market, or from people throwing out their rubbish. In the darkness rats could be heard scurrying about. Delte put her hand over her mouth and nose to try and disperse the smell, while her escort seemed to be unaffected by the smell.

They passed an inn called the Bannered Mare singing could be heard coming from inside, along with the smell of roasted hog which now mingled with the stench of the city. Regardless Delte's stomach growled at the smell reminding her of the lack of a real meal over the past few days. Brant explained the districts to her as they went up a stone flight stairs into the Wind District. It was then they passed by the gildergreen tree in full bloom, Delte dropped her hand and gasped at the sight. Brant puffed his chest out as some home pride swelled in him.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Brant said as they passed it by. Delte nodded as they carried on towards the castle of Dragonsreach in the Cloud District where the Jarl held court.

At the doors to Dragonsreach sergeant Brant walked up to a man in the same colours as his own uniform but this one had a large two handed axe and better quality armour and spoke to him about Delte's request. She soon learned that the other man Brant was speaking to was his captain who then dismissed Brant back to his post at the gate.

"Follow me please miss." The captain said as he opened the doors to the large hall of the jarl.

The first thing that came into view as Delte crossed the threshold was huge wooden pillars carved with nordic runes and sagas. They in turn supported a high vaulted ceiling with huge wooden beams that spanned across the whole building. Stone steps lead up to another level where voices and music could be heard, and a strong smell of more cooking wafted down to her. As she and the captain ascended the steps her stomach growled again, she gave a wince and glanced over at the captain who smiled.

At the top of the stairs the interior of the castle opened out into a huge courtroom. The centre of the room was taken up by a fire pit, servants on either side turned roasting spits with hogs impaled on each one. A row of tables were placed length ways down the pit with people sat facing the fire pit. At the far end opposite Delte was another table where a man who wore a circlet of gold on his head sat with a woman on his right eating their evening meal. A large burly man dressed in platmail and furs stood behind the seated man at the head table. All eyes in the room looked at the her and the captain and followed her as she walked between the fire pit and tables. Delte looked up at various hunting trophies as she made the long walk towards the head table, animals from all over Skyrim and even beyond adorned the walls. The people sat at the tables noticed that as she walked past the fire pit the flames seemed to move towards her as if sensing her dunmer heritage and affinity to fire. She looked at the nobles all sat at the tables and felt out of place in her dusty and scratched armour, she took a deep breath and increased her pace.

The man who stood behind the jarl held up his hand and with a thick nord accent spoke "That is far enough dunmer."

Delte stopped and looked at the man sat before her, his hair was red in colour shot through with grey. It was adorned with coloured wooden beads. Steel grey eyes looked her over as a bearded chin and mouth chewed a bite of roast hog. In his right hand was a bone that had been recently picked clean, draped over his shoulders was the skin of a sabre cat, its front paws over each shoulder had clasps attached to them and into his armour breastplate.

"Jarl Hulderic of Whiterun." Delte addressed the man sat in front of her "I have news of cultists roaming your lands and raiding villages and farms for slaves and sacrifices. My companions and I are on their trail, but require assistance."

A hushed murmur went around the tables with gasps of shock, the jarl nodded as he listened to the request.

"Pray tell me your name and those of your companions." jarl Hulderic said.

"My name is Delte and I travel with Volk Shatter-Shield and an argonian shaman called Left-Paw-Alight." She replied, a man to her right snorted in a laugh which drew her attention. He was dressed in fine red velvet robes with silver and gold embroidery. His hook nose the most prominent feature on his thin lean face.

"Sire you would take orders such as this from a vagabond dunmer who travels in the company of known criminals?" The man said in a aloof tone.

"That was never proven you cur, and that is my son you are accusing." A large old nord pointed a meaty finger at the hooked nose man in robes.

"QUIET! All of you." jarl Hulderic shouted "Sorry Delte please explain yourself."

"We arrived at Volk's farm last night. What we found was a small group of bandits had taken residence. They attacked us on sight, so we made our escape." Delte explained the details of the previous night "Next morning we formulated a plan and attacked to take back the farm. We killed seven of the bandits and took one prisoner which we questioned."

The whole room had now gone silent, even the servants turning the roast hog had stopped to listen to the events.

"The bandit told us they found the farm deserted and a boy of about eleven had been killed and left to rot in the courtyard. He also told us of a rune painted in blood on the door which they had washed off." Delte continued her report and then drew the rune on the table cloth with the blackened piece of wood from the fire for the jarl to see. The man in the red robes got up and walked around to look over the jarl's shoulder at the rune.

"Never seen it before, she is obviously lying trying to gather soldiers away from the city for an attack by her comrades who are probably the bandits she mentioned." Hook nose remarked "She has no second name, that means she is an outlaw of her own people or an ashlander. Either way they are classed as criminals."

Delte's hand curled around the hilt of her dagger, but the large armoured nord caught her eyes and shook his head as a warning.

"Insult me or my friends again and you will die." Delte addressed Hooks Nose.

"What is this rune?" jarl Hulderic asked Delte "You obviously have more knowledge of it than Valkor here." the jarl pointed at Hook Nose, Delte smiled as the mage shifted uneasily at the statement.

"Its an old chimer rune for Molag Bal. A cult in the 1^st Era used it as their symbol." Delte continued her explanation "We thought the cult to be dead, but if they are active now in Skyrim we need to move before they can gain more support and power."

"Why would they need slaves and sacrifices of such magnitude?" Volk's father asked.

"So they can open gates to Coldharbour in Oblivion." She turned to look at him, in his eyes she could see a resemblance to Volk.

"How many soldiers do you require?" Jarl Hulderic asked.

"Twenty if you can spare them." Delte said in reply without hesitation.

"Not a chance." the captain of the guards said he had been following the conversation from the back of the room "Since the troubles in Cyrodiil we are short handed as it is."

"Don't trouble yourself captain Karlof. My son will go with them and report back to the jarl." Volk's father spoke again and turned to a young man he gave some whispered orders to a young man on his left. The young man stood up and bowed to the jarl then walked out of the hall.

"Thank you thane Shatter-Shield," captain Karlof said to Volk's father "with your sons report we can better determine the course of action."

"Is that it?" Delte said in an exasperated tone "One boy?" I come here to inform you that your lands and people are in danger and you give me a boy as help."

"He maybe a boy but I know my son." Thane Shatter-Shield said "As you may know Volk they were both trained by me and my second. Come let me walk you back to the city gates."

The thane stood up and took Delte's arm as her own father would of and walked her to the large doors in silence. Delte was fuming inside she had been insulted and laughed at by these humans who had no knowledge of the danger they were in. The thane seemed to sense this and kept a tight grip on her hand was they walked.

Once outside her temper cooled in the night air and the old thane walked at a slow pace back down the steps towards the Wind District humming a tune. He stopped and sat down on a bench under the gildergreen tree.

"Lovely night," the old thane said as he breathed in deeply "I also know of the cultists you speak of. What I didn't know was the attack on Volk's farm, and that saddens this old heart more than you know."

Delte sat down by his side and let out a huge sigh.

"Thane Ulbert Shatter-Shield." He said with a smile as he gave his full title and name "Now let me tell you what the three of you have walked right into. There are people in court here that are working against the jarl. Its my job to protect him and find these vipers."

"Well that is just great." Delte said and looked up at the branches of the tree "Skyrim is being over run by daedra cultists and the people in charge are making power plays for crowns."

Ulfbert chuckled and shook his head "The vipers are the agents of the cultists, and some of them were sat in that hall we just left. Jarl Hulderic commissioned me to root them out."

"If you know who they are why not remove them now?" Delte enquired as she looked around the square.

"No hard evidence and you just can't go around accusing nobles without hard facts." Ulfbert replied "You and Volk need to find Gresla and her child before it is to late. Let me worry about the vipers here."

Delte stood up and bowed slightly to Ulfbert, this show of respect took the old thane by surprise. He stood up and placed both hands on her shoulders.

"Tell Volk I love him." Ulfbert said to her and then turned to head back into Dragonsreach. 

By the time Delte had returned to Volk and Paws the new horses had been bridled and ready for the journey. Volk and his younger brother had been reunited which seemed to of lifted his previous black mood as he beamed a huge smile as he talked and joked with his sibling. Left-Paw-Alight seemed to take joy from seeing the boy again, and to of grown into a young man during their time away. Johan stood to one side shuffling dirt with his boots not knowing where to look, now and again Volk's brother would scowl at Johan as Volk recounted their meeting with the bandits at his farm.

"Delte this is my younger brother Brom." Volk said with a grin as he introduced him to the dunmer female "Brom this is Delte the lady dunmer I wrote to you about."

Brom grinned and held out his hand as a way of greeting Delte.

"Nice, so are we going to move or stay here chatting?" Delte said as she looked Brom up and down and then mounted her horse.

Delte trotted away on her horse, Brom looked at Volk and shrugged "What did I do?" He said.

"Nothing mate she just doesn't know you that is all. Don't worry you will know if you upset her." Volk said as he mounted his new horse.

They made their way to the main road Volk rode alongside Delte and listened to her account of what had happened in Dragonsreach, and of her chat latter with his father Ulfbert. Left-Paw-Alight, Brom and Johan rode behind them, Paws and Brom chatted between themselves about the events in Cyrodiil and in Skyrim. They made camp around midnight just off the main road to Rorikstead. A campfire was quickly built to chase away the night chills. Johan looked around the camp as they ate supper, he noticed Delte was staring at him with her violet almond shaped eyes. The firelight seemed to make her eyes glow with a inner energy and this made him feel uneasy from the attention he was getting from her.

"Can you shoot a bow Johan?" Delte asked.

"I can kill a deer at eighty paces." Johan replied pleased that she had broken the silence.

"What about a man or a woman?" She asked.

"If my life depended on it I guess I could shoot someone." Johan replied as he looked over to Volk who just shrugged.

Delte stood up and walked over to her horse, she gently patted its flank to calm it down and pulled out a long package wrapped in soft leather. Delte walked over to where Johan was sitting and gave him the package.

"Its my bow I want you to have it." Delte explained to the puzzled Johan "If we are going up against these cultists we are going to need all the people we can get to help."

"So you are not afraid I will shoot any of you in the back with it and run?" Johan replied.

"A misplaced arrow by you could spell your own doom, a cultist will not care who you are they will kill you because you are not one of them." Delte explained with a smile "But a well placed arrow could help turn a battle or end a fight."

"I am not a warrior though." Johan wailed "I am a coward remember."

Delte nodded "That is why I am giving you my bow. Treat her well and she will look after you. The four of us are going to be in melee most of the time, you can stay back and shoot the enemy."

Johan unwrapped the bow stave and gasped in amazement at the quality and design. Gems sparkled along the handle and runes inlaid with gold had a magical glow to them as an unseen energy pulsed along the ebony limbs.

"I can't accept this."Johan said "Its worth more than anything I have ever owned or ever will own."

"It's priceless." Delte said as she sat down on her bedroll "I made it two years ago, but I feel it would serve me better in your hands. Take vengeance Johan for the family you have lost to these cultists. Blood for blood make your ancestors proud."

"Thank you Delte." Johan said as he wrapped the stave back in the leather covering. "I won't let you down."

"That is all I can hope for." Delte said to him "I will take first watch if that is alright. Oh and make sure not to build the fire to high."

"Why?" Brom asked.

"Why what? " Delte turned her gaze to the young nord.

"The fire, why not build it up? Its going to be a cold night otherwise." He said as he defiantly threw a new log into the flames.

"Because I don't want to fend off a rampant male troll looking for a mate." Delte said to Brom.

At this Paws started to choak on some bread he had just bitten off and Volk put his head in his hands and gave a muffled moan. Brom started to laugh along with Johan.

"Well I don't see what is so funny about being out in the wilds during troll season." Delte said with her arms crossed.

"Troll season?" Brom howled with laughter "Who told you that pile of shit?"

Delte gave a scathing look at Volk and Paws and stomped away from the fire to begin her watch. Paws regained his composure and shook his head.

"Bugger I had forgotten about that one." Volk explained "I had told her that because she kept stopping to pick herbs and plants for her alchemy. So I made it up to try and speed our journey up."

Volk stood up and dusted himself down of crumbs "I had best go and make amends with her."

He left the circle of firelight to look for the dunmer female.

"I don't understand her problem." Brom said "She doesn't have a sense of humour."

"Oh she does Brom," Paws answered "its very subtly and dry though. Remember she is not like you or Volk, she is a dunmer a dark elf. Very different people from those you know of in Skyrim."

"Always the teacher Paws." Brom said.

"It's not done you or Volk any harm though now has it?" Paws replied with a wink.

During the trip to Rorikstead the company made good time, even though they had to bypass some giant camps along the way. Delte gave instruction to Johan on how to shoot the bow better and the two brothers went out to hunt the next night for small game to save their provisions.

On the second day of travelling they rounded the foot of some hills and their view into the small town or Rorikstead was unobstructed. The scene that lay before them was of devastation and death. Fires blazed away out of control through the squat wooden buildings and thatched roof tops. Magical lighting arched between two figures in the town square as some of the men were trying to fight off the attackers.

"Kyne's breath." Brom swore at the sight he beheld.

Volk pulled out his two axes and dug his heels into his horses flanks. "For Shor and King Jorunn." He shouted as his horse entered full gallop.

Brom pulled his sword out and gave chase after his brother with Delte right behind him.

"I got to string my bow." Johan complained to Paws who was still with him.

"Learn to do it on horseback Johan. Come on do you want to live forever?" Left-Paw-Alight said as he sent his horse hurtling down towards the burning town of Rorikstead.

"Madness they are all raving mad." Johan said to himself as he unwrapped the bow and strung it.

Chapter 5. Valtheim Towers. Date 2E 581 First Seed Turdas 12th.

Chapter 5

Location:- Valtheim Towers

Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Turdas 12^th.

Two hours before dawn the twin moons Masser and Secunda had set behind the horizon, with the lack of moonlight it plunged the pre-dawn into darkness. Outside Volk's farm house the only light the three companions had to guide them was the starlight, and Delte's details of her reconnoitring of the small holdings earlier.

Delte took position behind the wall of a cattle pen to use as cover while she strung her bow and poisoned the arrows with paralysing poison. From her vantage point she could see the front door to the house and Volk's progress as he crept into the yard.

Volk slowly made his way towards the well and crouched down behind the wall. He drew out a pair of sax he had found in the old barracks after losing his twin axes earlier along with his horse in the previous skirmish with the bandits. As he watched the doorway his hand searched along the ground looking for a stone to throw at the front door when Paws gave the signal that he was ready and covering the back entrance to the building.

Left-Paw-Alight finished quietly enchanting the back door area with trap runes of fire. He stepped back and summoned a Flame Atronach which instantly put him in a battle of wills against the minor daedra. Once won he sent a small globe of magical light up into the sky, this was the signal to begin the attack.

Volk saw the signal from Paws and threw the stone at the front door, it struck the wood sending a loud cracking sound to echo around the stone basin in where the farm stood. Shouts of alarm came from within the house as the people inside was alerted and lit the lanterns so they could see. The door flew open and bathed the front porch of the house in bright lantern light. Volk was already up and moving fast to cover the last fifteen yards of open ground before the element of surprise wore off and the occupants eyes adjusted to the light sources.

Two figures silhouetted by the light stood in the door way and drew back their bows. Delte loosed her first arrow which struck home into the chest of her first target driving it back into the house dead. The second figure hesitated and looked for Delte's location which gave her time to draw another arrow and loose, her aim was slightly off target as it left her bow to hit the second bowman along the cheek bone. The poison took immediate effect and they dropped to the floor paralysed.

Volk leapt over the prone forms of the two bowmen in the doorway and entered into the front room. As he landed he parried a clumsy attack from the argonian, His other hand came round and sliced across the bare stomach to disembowel him. A woman screamed to his right and drove a axe at Volk's head. Volk dodged to the left and spun round to her right, then drove a sax blade hard into her lower back to sever the spine.

An explosion rocked the rear of the house as one of the bandits tried to leave, quickly followed by a blood curdling scream as he was consumed by the fire from the atronach and fire traps. Volk was now surrounded by a dunmer male and two reachmen. He grinned and splattered his opponents with the blood off his sax blades as a taunt. With the initial surprise of the attack now faded his opponents would be harder to defeat.

“You are all dead men, you just don't know it yet.” Volk growled menacingly at them.

A shadow passed behind the dunmer male and he fell down dead as Delte sliced his throat. The reachman closest to her turned his attention on her and went in for the attack. The second reachman assaulted Volk.

Delte dodged the reachman's longsword with a dancers grace, all the time drawing him closer with feints from her own two daggers.

Volk parried the attacks of his opponent, then crossed his blades to catch an overhead blow. As the reachman pushed with all his strength Volk brought one of his blades out of the lock and slashed his opponent across the throat. Blood and air escaped from the gaping wound and the reachman dropped his sword as his hands grasped at the wound trying to hold in the blood and escaping air from the windpipe.

Volk turned round and saw Delte parry a few blows and pirouette out of a counter attack. He sighed and shouted out to her. “Delte stop playing with him and just kill him.”

Delte took an obvious swipe with her dagger at the man's neck as he ducked down she then brought her other dagger hard up underneath his chin and drove it home through his skull. As the eyes in his head rolled back she kicked him off the blade and wiped it clean on his jerkin.

“You spoil all my fun.” She said to Volk as she got up and walked over to the paralysed man.

“I will let you have fun interrogating this one.” Volk said pointing at the last remaining bandit who was a nord. “Is he alive?”

Delte nodded and tied the man's hands behind his back and then his feet. “The poison will wear off soon.”

“Good.” Volk moved closer to Delte and whispered in her ear “Can he hear us?”

“Yes and also see what we did to his friends from his position as well.” Delte replied “I don't think he will hold out long.”

Paws came in from the back of the house followed by the subtle smell of sulphur. “All clear back there, a nord male tried to escape but he is now ash.” Paws cast a look around the room noting the bodies “Any still alive or do we need a seance to contact the dead?” He added with a chuckle.

Delte kicked the prone nord “This one is alive for now. He will answer our questions.... in time.” She added with a wink to Paws.

“I will fire up the furnace, we are going to need hot irons and coal for his questioning.” Volk commented as he walked out to the back of the house.

Volk sat by the side of his now exhumed son tears rolling freely down his face. Delte and Paws had moved the prisoner to the now raging hot furnace that was situated in a small cave behind Volks farm. Daylight had broken and along with it the bird song of spring filled the air with noise. A small family of rabbits hopped around in the long meadow grass where the cows would have been grazing. Volk's dead horse hung from a A-frame its belly sliced open and partly butchered by the bandits. During the aftermath of the fight Volk and Paws had moved the dead bodies out of the house and placed them around the foot of the A-frame. Flies were already congregating around the carcasses of the dead bandits and horse.

Left-Paw-Alight sat outside of the cave entrance to Volk's furnace watching his friend grieve over his dead son. Now and then on the wind he caught snippets of Volk talking to his son as though he were alive and could hear him. Delte broke Paws reverie by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Will he be all right?” Delte asked nodding over to Volk.

“I hope so, its never easy for a parent to bury their children.” Paws said with a heaviness in his voice.

“You lost a child as well?” Delte asked sensing the grief in the comment.

“Along time ago, I also knew Michael, Volk's eldest boy. I was his godparent.”

“I am sorry Paws, I didn't know.” Delte said as she headed down the steps towards Volk “By the way the prisoner is awake.”

“Hold on I will go and get Volk.” Paws said as he got up and headed down the steps “Would also like to pay my respects to the boy as well. You go back in and make sure everything is ready.”

Delte nodded and turned around to head back inside to the furnace.

The prisoner watched in wide eyed terror as Delte stoked the furnace even more, the heat from it hard started to make him sweat and small rivulets were now streaming down his body and splattering on the dirt floor of the workshop. Delte showed no visible signs of being effected by the heat due to her dunmer heritage.

“What are you going to do to me?” The nord male stammered.

“Answer our questions truthfully and you may live.” Delte answered without turning around.

“I don't know anything, I am just a farmer.” He cried.

“Delte laughed at him and said “This farm belongs to the Shatter-Shield clan. The owner grieves outside over a dead son, missing child he has never seen and wife. You had best come up with something else or this will be the quickest interrogation I have ever done.”

“No not this farm, we only came here because it was abandoned. My farm got destroyed by raiders on the boarder of Windhelm and the Rift.” The nord said as Volk and Paws entered the furnace.

Volk stopped in front of him and looked the prisoner in the eyes. A scowl of pure hatred etched on his face. Eyes red from the tears he had shed earlier.

“What is your name?” Volk spat at him.

“Johan Fletcher.” The prisoner said with fear in his voice “I will tell you everything okay. I am a coward please don't hurt me.”

A small puddle appeared at Johan's feet and a wet stain spread down the leg of his britches as his bladder gave way.

“Why kill my boy and wife?” Volk asked as he grabbed a hand full of Johan's hair.

“I didn't, we found the body of a boy outside near the well with his head caved in. We buried him ourselves out of respect because it looked like he had died in battle.” Johan blurted out in pain.”There was no new born child or woman here. The place had been deserted for a couple of weeks by the look of the body and spoiled food in the pantry.”

“I think you are lying. Delte put a hot coal down his right boot.” Volk growled out the order and let go of Johan's hair as he stepped back to allow Delte access to the prisoners booted feet.

Johan started to scream and thrash about in his bindings as Delte approached him with a white hot piece of coal. “I am telling you the truth.” Johan screamed “This place is cursed, I told them but they laughed at me. Please for the mercy and love of Mara.”

Volk put his arm out and stopped Delte in her tracks. “Go on.” Volk said to Johan “Why is this place cursed?”

“The blood smeared rune we found on the door to the house. The girls washed it off, but I have seen it before.” Johan said in between sobs.

“What did it look like? Can you draw it exactly?” Paws said now intrigued by the answers Johan was giving.

Johan nodded and looked up at the three of them “I will never forget that dread rune it was the same one the raiders used when they attacked my farm and village. They used my fathers own blood to paint it on my house while I hid from them like the coward I am in a hay stack.”

Volk pulled out one of his sax and cut Johan's bindings that held his hands to the large metal frame he was tied to. Left-Paw-Alight handed over a piece of charcoal and some parchment to Johan so he could draw the rune. Trembling with fear he accepted the items and started to draw. After a few minutes he had finished and handed the items back to Left-Paw-Alight.

Paws looked at the rune and ran a hand over his head feathers as he frowned at the drawing.

“Not seen anything like this before. Are you sure this is the rune you saw?” Left-Paw-Alight questioned Johan.

“Of course it is, that rune is etched in my waking life and my dreams. After what the raiders did to my family and drag off my mother and younger brother.” Johan broke down in tears.

“May I see?” Delte spoke up as she reached out a hand for the parchment.

“Why not. I have studied every rune known to the college. Its not daedric or magical, I think he made it up to save his own skin.” Paws said as he gave her the paper.

Volk punched Johan hard in the stomach and then an uppercut to his chin. He pulled back his fist for another blow.

“Stop.” Delte cried out “Release him.”

“What?” Both Volk and Paws said in unison in a surprised tone.

Delte stepped forward and addressed Johan “I know this rune, its an old dunmer or chimer rune for Domination.” She then took some cloth and damped it. Slowly she rubbed out some of the rune and when she was finished she showed the results to Volk and Paws.

“Over time it has changed to mean something else entirely.”

Both of the men looked at the parchment she was holding up with the now changed rune and said in unison. “Molag Bal.”

Delte nodded “Correct, now Johan do you know where these cultist are?”

Johan nodded slowly his face now becoming a bruised mess from Volk's beatings. “I know the place I can take you there, but don't expect me to help you fight them.”

“You show us the place and I will set you free.” Volk said as he bent down and cut the bonds at Johan's feet.

“If you run I will hunt you down.” Delte added “You will have three days before you die. Day one I make my poisons. Day two I track you down like an animal. Day three I catch you and kill you.” She counted off on her hand.

Johan stared wide eyed and open mouth looking into her almond shaped merish eyes.

“I give you my word I will not run. I swear to you and Shor.” Johan blurted out.

“Then it is done.” Volk said with a nod “Come I will get some water for you so you can clean yourself up Johan while you tell me what you can do other than shoot bows at unsuspecting people”

As Johan and Volk left the furnace Left-Paw-Alight asked Delte “Do you believe him about the rune and raiders?”

“Yes.” Came her reply “My people thought the cult was dead after being wiped out in fight they had with the Morag Tong for control over a city. Seems they have been laying low and waiting for an opportunity to try for another power struggle.”

“Why now though I wonder?” Paws mused.

“Lets find them before they manage to do something we are all going to regret. Also pray to the eight for Volk's family.” She said as she walked out into the sunshine of the spring morning.

Chapter 4. Grass Plains of Whiterun. Skyrim. Date 2E 581 First Seed Middas 11th.

Chapter 4

Location:- Grass plains of Whiterun. Skyrim.

Date:- 2E 581 First Seed Middas 11^th.

The passage through Helgan had been easy enough for the three of them. On their over night stop Volk had asked Delte to help him pick out a present for his wife Gresla. There was a lot of troop movements in the fort town as units passed through from Falkreath and Whiterun on their way to Bruma which was now on the front lines of the growing war between the three alliances. The next morning they left Helgan behind and set off for the plains of Whiterun where the Jarl of Whiterun held court.

Their path followed the river east past the outskirts of Whiterun and towards a large stone toll bridge that Volk gave the name of Valtheim Towers that spanned the now fast flowing river before it fell away into a huge waterfall. A warm wind blew across the grasslands and large multicoloured dragon flies skimmed across the water, with a constant rumble of the waterfall further down stream. The doors and windows to the towers were shuttered closed and a large iron portcullis blocked the route over the river. The lack of guards only compounded the statements made by Narol two days previous at the Jerral Way Tavern.

The three companions stopped for a short rest at the toll bridge to ease their aching backs from the long ride. Delte watched a kingfisher dive down into the river and fly off with its catch. She was beginning to like this new land and the new animals that she had not seen before during her time growing up in Morrowind and Elsweyr. During the stop she mixed some potions whilst sat on the bank of the river and tested the new herbs she had picked along the way. Volk tucked into some salted mutton and bread that he shared with Left-Paw-Alight. He explained to them that his farmstead lay just over the next rise off to the right nestled within a semi circle of granite topped hills, where the south side of the circle the hills reached up into the mountains. It was there he had a wooden ramp that lead up to a natural cavern where he had his own forge and workshop. The fields had corn and various vegetables with a few cows and chickens. For the first time Delte saw Volk in a whole new light, not that of a warrior born but as a farmer and husband. A stark contrast to the man she had known for two years.

The sun was starting to set as the farm came into view. A wooden fence cut across the open end of the semicircle of the granite topped hills Volk had mentioned earlier. At the entrance to the fields lay a broken gate. Its shattered parts strewn across the approach to the main building. The fields were starting to get overgrown with weeds, and there were no cattle or chickens to be seen. Set in this backdrop was a squat stone cottage with a thatched roof. Smoke was lazily curling its way up out of the single stack chimney, but the windows were shuttered up tight.

Volk's stallion pawed at the ground seeming to sense its masters apprehension at the scene that lay before him. A shiver ran down Delte's spine as she and Paws looked at each other.

“No this isn't right. Something it amiss.” Volk growled as he dug his heels into his horses flanks sending it into a gallop.

“Volk wait.” Delte shouted after him in vain.

“Go I will watch the road here.” Left-Paw-Alight said to Delte as he spun his horse around to keep it under control.

Delte sped after Volk who was now halfway down the approach road to his cottage. Her white gelding much faster than Volks large Skyrim bred warhorse quickly gained on him.

The door to the cottage opened up and two figures came into view. One was a man of human origins and the other was a woman also of human descent. Both wore studded leather armour and held a longbows, as one they drew back the strings on their longbows.

“Volk no.” Delte shouted as Volk's horse entered the large front area of the cottage.

It was then the unknown man and woman loosed their bows at Volk, and pulled another arrow each from their quivers. One arrow narrowly missed Volk and flew by his left ear making him flinch to the right. The second arrow buried itself into the breast of his huge horse killing it instantly. Its front legs crumpled underneath it throwing Volk over its head to land heavily on the ground. Delte rode past the prone Volk and threw a small bottle at the feet of their two assailants. The bottle smashed open allowing the liquid inside to evaporate quickly into a cloud of gas that enveloped the doorway. Delte spun her horse around and helped Volk climb up behind her, Left-Paw-Alight seeing the commotion let fly with a firebolt into the cloud of gas. Delte dug her heels into her horse's flanks and set off back towards where Paws waited. The firebolt hit the gas cloud from Delte's bottle causing it to explode in a fireball. A blood curdling scream emanated from the explosion as a figure wreathed in flames ran out spinning and dancing trying to put the flames out as the fire consumed them.

“Paws move. We head back to the toll bridge.” Delte shouted at Left-Paw-Alight as he summoned up a fog bank to obscure the view from the cottage. He then urged his Colovian mount into a run back down the road from the direction they had come from.

Four more arrows appeared from the fog bank, three went wide, but the fourth struck Volk in the back of his left leg. He grunted in pain as Delte's horse turned onto the main road to follow Left-Paw-Alight.

“Delte I got hit by one of those arrows.” Volk said as he tried to hold on. “It's in my left leg.”

“You'll be fine.” Delte said. “You have another leg not sure what you are moaning about.”

“Very funny.” Volk chuckled. “Thanks by the way. I would of...”

“Don't mention is.” Delte cut him off. “ I take it that wasn't your Gresla?”

“No it wasn't.” came Volk's reply. “We need to regroup and find out what is going on.”

“First we need to patch that leg of yours before it gets infected.” Delte said.

“We need to make ready and attahhhhh!” Volk's sentence trailed off into pain filled incoherence. He looked down at his leg and saw Delte had reached down and tugged on the protruding arrow shaft.

“Point taken.” Volk said sulkily.

Paws inscribed a rune for wind on the nailed up door to the toll bridge guardroom. Then stood to one side and started to chant. Delte supporting Volk waited for Paws to break down the sturdy oak door. As Left-Paw-Alight chanted he felt the presences of a wind spirit take notice of the rune and chant. Paws changed the chant slightly and suggested to the spirit to smash down the door. He felt the wind spirit struggle against his will. Paws then applied more coercion and reasserted his dominance against the spirit by flooding the rune with magicka. The door imploded inwards a thousand shards of wood covering the inside of the building in oak splinters, Left-Paw-Alight stepped though the debris and sent small globes of light spiralling throughout the guardhouse. Moments latter he poked his head back outside and beckoned the waiting Delte and Volk inside.

“The place is clear come in. I will seal the entrance while you take care of Volk. “

Delte helped Volk hobble up the wooden stairs to the first floor of the guardhouse, in the fading light she could make out a few beds. Slowly she lowered the wounded Volk onto one of the beds and started to look for candles to light that the previous occupants had left behind.

Downstairs Paws was drawing runes around the entrance he had broken down, as he finished each one a slight glow emanated from it to show it was active. He then moved onto the next rune all the time chanting calling out to the various elements to bind them to the runes.

“Take off your trousers Volk.” Delte said as she moved around the room lighting the candles. “You will need to cut the left leg to get it past the arrow shaft.”

“I didn't think it would take an arrow for you to get my trousers off Delte.” Volk said with a boyish grin as he cut the leather around the arrow and gently pulled the rest of his trousers down.

“Don't flatter yourself.” Delte replied coldly as she walked back to Volk who was now laying on his front on a bed with a straw mattress. “I am a Dunmer, even though we are friends I would never lay with a inferior race.”

“Damn Delte it was meant to be a joke. I am a married man as well you know.” Volk replied. “I can't see why you see the Dunmer as a superior race over the Nords anyway. We are all the same in the end.”

“Sorry Volk, not all of us think that way.” Delte said as an apology as she took out her dagger and started to sharpen the blade. “Its just the difference in cultures and humour I think. It's one reason I agree with this alliance, so that hopefully our people can learn to get along and trust one another.” She took out a rag and applied alcohol to it and wiped it along the now sharpened blade of her dagger.

Volk drew in a sharp breath as Delte splashed some of the alcohol onto the wounded area of his leg. “This is going to hurt Volk.” Delte said as she examined the arrow. “I need to cut the leg open either side of the shaft to get the arrow head out and make sure the wound is clean before I close it up.”

“Just get it done.” Volk growled trying not to scream.

Left-Paw-Alight came upstairs and sent a small globe of light to stick to the ceiling of the old barracks so that Delte could see what she was doing far easier than with just candle light. Delte cut into Volks leg and started to work on the wound.

“You was lucky the arrow missed the bone and the main artery.” Delte said as she started to pull on the arrow.

“I never feel lucky after being shot.” Volk said through gritted teeth and then passed out due to the pain.

“He has passed out Delte.” Paws said as he looked on.

“Thought he might, it will be easier this way.” Delte replied as she cleaned the inside of the wound.

“How does a scout know about arteries in the body?” Paws enquired.

Delte threw down the now spent and bloody linen and cotton swabs. “Part of the training my father taught me.” she said.

Paws sat down on a stool and handed Delte a small bottle of healing compound. “I don't believe you. Scouts learn to track, make traps and shoot bows mainly.”

“Depends what you are hunting on the skills taught.” Delte said as she applied the healing solution and watched as the skin started to knit together on Volk's wounded leg.

“What job did general Veldam send you on during the battle at Jerral Pass?” Paws asked sensing Delte's evasive answer.

Delte stood up and started to rummage through her backpack. “I need to find out who tried to kill us. Volk will want answers when he wakes up.”

“Stop avoiding the question Delte. You are more than just a scout for the Ebonheart Pact.” Paws pointed a clawed finger at Delte. “Scouts do not know about alchemy to such an extent either.”

Delte pulled out a grey and black mottled linen cloak from her pack and threw it around her shoulders.

As she fastened the clasp she said. “Look after Volk his wound will be tender for a few days. I will be back in a few hours, and Paws please drop it.” with that she left before he could stop her and continue his line of questioning. He sighed and shook his head and let the magical light dim and go out, leaving the room to be solely illuminated by the candles Delte had set light to.

Left-Paw-Alight looked around the old barrack room they had chosen to take refuge in. A old open fire place commanded centre view, its old roasting rack rusting up through lack of use. The old cots had marks on them from small rodents chewing at the wooden frames and straw mattresses. He went over to the fire place and started to build a pile of wood into the fire place from a small stack that had been left nearby. Searching though his pockets he found his tinder box and started to pack in the dry tinder, striking the flint onto the striking steel sparks shot forwards onto the tinder which started to smoke. Gently he blew on the small flames helping them grow and take hold of the larger wood faggots in the fireplace.

As the fire caught hold on the wood he filled a pot with water from his and Volk's canteen, then placed it on the iron frame above the fire so it would boil. He then headed down stairs to the storeroom to look for any supplies that had survived the exodus of the troops that lived there previously.

Volk stirred into wakefulness the first thing he noticed was the smell of cooking. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. “Ugh how long have I been asleep?” He asked in a mumbling groggy voice.

“Just over two hours.” came the reply from Paws. “Some stew in the pot if you're hungry.”

Volk slowly got up and tested his weight on the wounded leg. The skin had healed over to stop infection, but there was still the bruise and tenderness of the torn muscles.

“She has done a good job there.” said Volk then he breathed in deep at the smell of the stew. “Smells good did you cook it?” Volk's stomach grumbled in anticipation to the thought of the meal. Left-Paw-Alight nodded as he dished out a portion for Volk.

“I found some salted pork in the cellar, and some rogue vegetables outside on the river bank.” explained Paws. “Why you ask if I cooked it?”

“Delte sweet lass but her cooking is worse than mine.” Volk said as he sat down gingerly on a wooden stool at the table. “Where is she any how?”

“She went back to your farm to see who attacked us.” Left-Paw-Alight handed over a full bowl of stew to Volk and sat down opposite him. “We will need to know how many we are up against and their training in combat. She should be back soon.”

Volk nodded as he tucked into the food. “Good I want to assault them two hours before dawn, when the night is at its darkest.” said Volk with a full mouth of stew and bread.

A slender arm reached down and grabbed a bread roll off the table in front of Paws and Volk. “I agree with Volk on the time.” a female voice said startling the two men. “I also know how to mix poisons that are tasteless into food as well.” she added with a cheeky smile and a giggle as she sat on a cot while taking a bite out of the bread roll. “So remember that next time you ask me to cook.”

“By Shor's Stone lass you're like a ghost. And about the cooking.” Volk tried to apologise as Delte and Paws broke into laughter. Delte waved the hand holding the bread roll at Volk in a gesture to forget about it. Volk sighed and gave a smile. “So what do we know?”

“I think they are a group of thieves, not bandits.” Delte started to give her report. “There are now eight of them, one having died earlier today from the skirmish we had and the explosion. Two women both of them are nords by the look of them and six men.”

“The men nords as well?” asked Paws.

“Not all of them, and don't interrupt. Its rude.” said Delte as she crossed her arms with a pout, then smiled and continued. “If you let me finish, two of the men are nords. One is an argonian one is a dunmer and the other two are strangely tattooed bretons.”

“Strange tattoos, look like bretons.” repeated Volk as he stroked his beard. “Could be Reachmen, they are relations to the bretons but are a vicious bunch who worship strange gods and work old magic.”

“Volk your saddle bags and money is being shared amongst them.” added Delte then she looked at the floor her tone changed to a sombre voice. “I also saw something else. Outside round the back.”

“Spit it out lass.” Volk insisted. “We need to know it all.”

Delte sighed and looked up at Volk and Left-Paw-Alight concern etched on her face. “I saw a small freshly dug grave. To small to be an adult.”

Volk's face went into a scowl he clenched his fists, rage boiled up into his usual jovial features.

“Could mean nothing, could be a perfectly normal explanation to this.” Paws tried to reassure Volk.

“I want them dead, no mercy, no quarter and no prisoners.” Volk stood up all memory of the pain he felt in his leg forgotten. “Get some sleep both of you, I will take first watch.”

“Volk there was only one grave, if it was the thieves there would be more. Or your wife may have been sold into slavery.” Delte stood up and blocked Volk from leaving.

“You are not making me feel any better with talk of slavery Delte.” responded Volk as he took hold of Delte and moved her roughly aside.

“If we kill them all we will never know the truth. Keep one alive and we may find Gresla and your new born.” Delte shouted to the now retreating Volk as he headed to the stairs.

“Why keep a helpless babe alive?” Volk said as he stood at the top of the stairs seething with anger.

“To placate the mother, to stop her from fighting.” finished Delte.

Volk looked down the stairs into the darkness that cloaked the ground floor and said. “Keep one alive, you are right Delte. Gresla might be alive still, she would do anything to keep our children safe.” with that Volk headed down the stairs to sit in the darkness and watch the approach to the bridge.

Left-Paw-Alight made his way around the small barracks and extinguished the candles. As he leant over to blow out the last one Delte rolled over on her cot and asked. “Do you think Volk will do something silly before we wake up?”

“No.” replied Paws. “Volk is ragging mad not an idiot. Not even he can take on eight people on his own and win.” he then blew on the last candle which sent the room into darkness.

As he lay back on his own cot he secretly hoped Volk would not do anything until they was all present.