The Brewing Storm

Chapters

In Before the DLC
Big Trouble in Little Whiterun
Silly Science, You Have no Place Here
Dawnguard Release Chapter.
The Right Man in the Wrong Place...
Now You're Thinking With Lightning
Slapstick Comedy at its Finest
Horses in a Horse-Drawn Carriage
No One Likes Police Checkpoints
The Roundabout Route
Those Three Were Just Random People, Too
Yep, He Owns a Doormat
Ustengrav or Bust
If You Give Twilight a Book...
An Appropriate Reaction
Fire, Water... Burn
Reman Just Leveled Up! To Level Two...
Labor Day
Heading Out Again
The Ultimate Poker Face
Orcs Orcs Orcs Orcs
Even Further Lack of Orcs
Were you Expecting a Title Involving Orcs?
Are You Still Hung up on the Orc Thing?
So, Pinkie and a Prince Walk Into Pelagius III
I'm Burnin' For You
Pinkie no Longer Enjoys Trains
The Plot Really Needs to get Moving
Glade Really Likes That Spot
So, Anyone Still Here?
Ah, the Joys of Being Owed a Debt
By Popular Demand, I Present the Orc
I Call Him Nubby
One is Heading South, the Other is Traveling North
Merriment's Might
Divine Divination and Dastardly Deeds
What is Black and Red and Dirty all Over? Cicero
"Oh, yeah, he'll be back."
Not Exactly the A-Team
Sunburn
Stony Lonesome
Bloody Angel
Midnight Market
Making a Splash
Leyawiin is not in Kvatch
Tower Touches Rising Sun
Biomancy
Visceromancy
Cultural Differences
Bonding Blood and a Broken Face
Gonna Need a Steam Cleaner for That
Rest and Relaxation
Riding Radio Waves
Exitus Acta Probat
Pinkie Status: Alive and Slightly Hungry
Another Trip to Paradise
Welcome to Skyrim
Falkreath Hold
The Warhound
Tragic Slip
Inmortui
Splicing
Chapter 70
... And Into the Fire.
Renoir is a Bit... Off
Not His Time to Die
How Long Has it Been Since His Last Meal?
The Aging Process, How Does it Work?
Renoir Belmont: Scholar, Healer, Vampire Hunter
Chapter 69

In Before the DLC

The first thing that was apparent was the smell. It wasn't unpleasant, nor unwelcome, but it was overpowering. The scent of pine trees and blooming wildflowers, Skyrim was transitioning from winter to spring. In truth, everypony was expecting the strange world to be filled with monsters and evil magic, but this forest appeared too beautiful to have been left to its own devices.

“Reman said that Nirn worked like the Everfree, that everything took care of itself.” Glade was muttering, still trying to take in the scenery, and actively making an attempt to keep her guard up. Her pack-mate had warned her about the tricks this world liked to play on the unwary. “Everypony stay alert, there are things worse than werewolves that call this place their home.”

As if to provide evidence to the lycan's statement, a massive shadow passed over the forest floor. A roar that made Glade's seem like a yawn filled the air, sending a chill down everypony's spine. Whatever it was, its massive wings sent a gust over the eight ponies, though the pine canopy obscured the beast from view. The monster howled its call again, sending a tremor through the ancient trees. Nopony moved until its roar faded into the distance.

“W-What was t-t-that?” Fluttershy was shaking, thoroughly frightened by the airborne creature.

“I think that was a dragon...” Twilight lifted a piece of parchment from her saddlebag, along with a quill and inkwell. The lavender mare checked another member of the Equestrian bestiary off of her list, and wondered how many traits dragons of Nirn and Equestria shared. “If dragon here are like that, then I suppose it explains Reman's reaction to seeing Spike for the first time.”

“I'm not comfortable standing around like this.” Luna surprised everypony with her words, though they may have been justified. The Elements and Glade knew about the Princess' delving into the Imperial's mind, she knew more about this world than anypony else. “Just let me check the map.” This would have a wonderful idea, if the group's position had been marked on the navigational aid. Realizing that Reman hadn't taken the liberty of locating the party's arrival point, the Princess of Night nearly ripped the piece of aged paper to shreds.

“Something wrong?” Pinkie leaned over the alicorn's shoulder, trying to decipher why Luna's eye suddenly developed a twitch. “Wait! Maybe your Princess Sense is telling you something!”

“Oh, it's telling me something, alright.” With a flat look, Luna pulled her own quill and parchment combo from her bag, intent on getting an updated map from the Imperial in Whiterun. After writing a rather angry note, the Princess sent the map off in a puff of purple fire. “And now we wait.”

“Doesn't Reman need to be awake to get it?” Even to the Element of Loyalty, the plan seemed off by a touch. At the realization, the Princess almost smacked herself in frustration, though when her horn sparked, Luna's attitude quickly changed. With a small plume of blue flames, a neatly rolled map with a small tag under the twine fell to the ground.

“I thought it would be strange for him to be sleeping this late in the day.” Rarity was doing her best to stay on the small rock that she was perched on, lest she touch the muddy ground. She knew that Reman would respond quickly, with an updated map, however, one thing struck her as odd.“But, what does the note say?”

With a frustrated grunt, Luna exposed the small tag's writing.

You are here.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

The Imperial was currently shacked up in Jorrvaskr, taking a rest in one of the lower floor's many rooms. Eorlund Gray-Mane had been kind enough to set Reman up with a suit of the Companions' wolf armor and a sword made of Skyforge steel, despite the Imperial only being an honorary member. Kodlak trusted his advice, though, and that meant something in Skyrim. The old Nord would be tough to convince, but if the group succeeded, the Holds would be much easier to sway. Reman was certain that the old werewolf was only hearing him out because of the small amount of respect he held in Whiterun, however, he knew that Kodlak had a heart too kind to deceive him like that.

Though, perhaps the Harbinger was humoring Reman to boost the sense of brotherhood lycans shared, which was going to become much more necessary in the near future. The Imperial had heard some rather disturbing news while drinking in the Bannered Mare: the Silver Hand was upping its number in Skyrim, being bolstered by some group of vampire slayers. Whoever these Dawnguard characters were, they provided the Silver Hand with a steady supply of crossbows and silver arrowheads, a dangerous combination against werewolves.

Two groups of hunters chasing after the supernatural, and Reman thought he could take things easy for a while.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Despite the joke, Reman had actually fixed the map, and the mares were well on their way to Skyrim's largest Hold. They were making great time, Whiterun Hold was just over the next cluster of mountains. Of course, the range was still a number of hours away, and across a lake, Lake Ilinalta, if the map was to be believed.

“Couldn't we just follow the White River to Riverwood, instead?” Rarity had a good point, the land seemed fairly flat in that area, whereas the party's current path was supposed to be hilly until they reached the tundra. “The map says that there's a road that leads right to the city.”

“We still don't know how the locals will react to seeing us.” The Princess of Night was correct. So far, it seemed only Glade and Luna had kept on their guard, the lycan mare had actually kept the group from waltzing into a pack of bandits. The bloodthirsty brigands were then wiped out by a group of mercenaries, but that didn't help the small equines in the least. Well, it didn't help the majority, with Glade helping herself to one on the bandits' weapons. Although, given the nature of the experience, perhaps is was best if only Luna, Twilight, and Glade knew about the small group of highwaymen.

“Reman seemed to take it pretty well.” Fluttershy hadn't been around the Imperial much, but he had adapted fairly easily, even if he hadn't given up eating meat. Then again, he wasn't a normal human, if Glade and the Princesses were telling the truth.

“Reman adapts to everything well, even the Equestrian winter, if you recall.” Glade was proud to call the man her forebear.

“Right, his skin doesn't do much for insulation.” Twilight remembered seeing the Imperial walk around without a shirt, even when some ponies wore coats against the cold.

“So some people are going to run away from us, big deal.” Rainbow Dash didn't have a subtle bone in her body, and her current mood wasn't helping her. The cyan pegasus hated being stuck on the ground, flying would attract too much attention, even more because the local had their eyes on the sky in the event of dragon attack.

“The guards are armed, and unlike Equestria's, they kill threats on a regular basis.” Reman had said as much to the lycan, at least the dungeons were easy to escape, the guards didn't patrol them regularly.

“Can we at least stop for a rest?” Rarity wasn't accustomed to long journeys, and traveling for the amount of time that she had, it was amazing that the fashionable pony hadn't keeled over by then. While the group had started on their journey shortly before noon, the sun was beginning to set, and they were barely half-way there.

“We ain't gettin' much further before sunset, might as well make camp here.” Applejack was the most experienced when it came to the outdoors, and if she said this spot was okay, then the other mares couldn't really argue. Besides, it wasn't every day that they had the chance to camp on a lakeshore. Granted, they only had three tents among themselves, and they had exhausted their water supply for the day, the ponies felt that they were prepared for the rest of the trip. The water seemed clean enough to drink, it was so clear, one could see the wreck of a ship under the water, the crowsnest sticking out some distance away.

“If anypony needs me, I'll be bathing.” It was more out of necessity than anything, but Fluttershy needed to keep the others in the loop, in case something happened. Like the dragon came for them, or a monster came out of the water. “C-can I get somepony to come with me?”

“Scare yourself thinking about getting attacked?” Glade laughed a bit, but the Element knew she was joking. Regardless, the lycan joined the shy pegasus in her cleaning, though Glade kept her looted dagger strapped in the sheath on her foreleg. Wading out, the two noticed that the water was indeed clean enough to drink, though it was almost too cold to bathe in, but there weren't exactly many options.

Too distracted by their own thoughts, neither pegasus noticed the dark shape move under the water's surface.

Big Trouble in Little Whiterun

In her life, Twilight Sparkle had never seen anything like this strange land. In a few short hours, the mare had heard a dragon fly overhead, and been near a group of bandits as they were slaughtered. The day ended with the group making camp on the shore of Lake Ilinalta, and two of the mares were off bathing at the moment. The Element of Magic was currently occupying herself with her lists, checking off every plant, animal, and insect that she saw, all in the name of science. That didn't mean that Twilight hadn't taken the time to enjoy the sights and sounds of Nirn.

Reman's home was certainly beautiful, even with its strange moons. That was probably the toughest thing to get over, really, the two celestial bodies. Luna seemed to take some slight offense at the dual satellites, like they were stealing her thunder. The Princess was joking, using humor as a means to ease some of the group's collective nervousness. Actually, the peace of the day had done wonders to relax the other mares, well, after the near run-in with those brigands.

A scream and splash pierced the early night like a dagger. While one might confuse Fluttershy's outburst as the result of horseplay with Glade, her friends understood the fear in her shriek, and the six rushed to her aid. The Element of Kindness was standing on the shore, shaking in terror a what she had seen. The lycan that had escorted her, however, was nowhere to be found.

“Something pulled Glade under!” The shy pony was almost in shock, the attack had taken place in an instant. Pegasi aren't strong swimmers on the best of days, and the lycan had been snatched by surprise, if somepony didn't help, odds were that Glade might not survive. In this test, Twilight Sparkle jumped into action.

“Rarity, light up the water!” The alabaster unicorn obeyed, running on autopilot for the moment. With a flash, the dark waters were illuminated by the Element of Generosity's magic, revealing Glade and her attacker. Twilight didn't notice what it was, the mare was too focused on her duties. “Luna, grab Glade and pull her out!”

“Right.” The alicorn gripped the submerged and struggling pegasus, yanking her from the strange creature's grip. The lycan flew from the water with barely a ripple, the Princess' magic displacing the liquid without a sound. The lake monster launched itself after the mare, but was met with a dagger in its jaws. Reflex forced the foreign animal to bite down, the steel blade penetrated its skull and brain, death was instantaneous. Oddly enough, the weapon hadn't been thrown, it had merely fallen from its sheath.

“You can let me go, I'm fine.” Glade had a few bites, but she was still in working shape. “It just caught me by surprise, is all.” In truth, the mare had only been more afraid on two occasions, and both involved the Imperial the group was going to see. “Though, I suggest waiting until we get to Whiterun to try and bathe, other you're liable to be grabbed by... whatever that was.”

“I think it's a fish.” Pinkie was stating the obvious, but it may have been a shocking revelation to the bubbly party pony. Regardless of her current thoughts, Gummy was busying himself by nudging the floating corpse around the shallow he was presently wading through. Through the small alligator's efforts, the fish's body drifted towards the group of ponies, ready for its examination. “Those teeth are bigger than Reman's when he gets all scary and growly!”

“Why would a lake fish need teeth this large, or display that level of aggression?” Twilight wasn't about to go near the thing, even the scholarly mare had her limits, but her inhibitions didn't stop her from wondering. “Perhaps Glade is right, we should definitely avoid deep water.”

“Well, there go my plans for cleaning up.” Rarity was jesting, still slightly jarred from the earlier fiasco. The fashionable pony was slightly agitated by the delay, but she could live with it. “I'll wait until we arrive at Jarr-vasker to bathe.”

“Let's jus' get back t' camp 'fore somethin' worse than a fish comes after us.” Applejack was not about to risk the lives of her friends by talking, not while the air had bloodscent wafting through, and not while predators were roaming the woods. They needed to move, and now.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

This was easily the best part of being in the Companions, hands down, theses celebrations were worth every battle, every injury, every wound earned in combat. The mead hall shook with cheers and drunken song, though the every member of the Circle was sober as a bird. The roaring revelry was over some whelp's success on a job, while this wasn't cause for celebration in itself, the adverse conditions that presented themselves during the contract demonstrated the newcomer's skill. Some kid, about two or three years younger than Reman, had cleared out a bandit camp that had set up the day before, including the chief in steel plate. Even the Imperial had to admit, that was damn impressive.

“To Jared Thumb-crusher, a true Nord warrior!” Skjor lifted his mug and shouted across the room, encouraging the gathered fighters into an even louder frenzy. While the aged werewolf was trusted and admired in the Companions, Reman butted heads with the former Blade on a number of occasions, including the first time the Imperial set foot through the western doors. Nevertheless, Reman downed his mead with the others, not like he would let alcohol go to waste, that would just be rude of him.

“Reman God-slayer, gotta admit, it has a nice ring.” Farkas' voice was oddly loud over the roaring Companions, making the cheers seem like white noise. “Don't suppose you're gonna start going by that now, are you?”

“The Circle has been calling me that ever since I told you about my battle with Hircine.” Reman and the his fellow lycan made their out back, away from the shouting crowd. “Never understood why you five believed it when nobody else did.”

“Most folks don't have a connection to the Huntsman like we do.” The long-haired Nord shrugged, answering the Imperial's unspoken question. It never ceased to amaze Reman, but he found himself surprised every time Farkas managed to teach him something. The man may have been simple, but he wasn't stupid.“We all felt Hircine's pain when you did... something.”

“It take's a special warrior to defeat a Daedric Prince in combat.” Reman jumped slightly when Vilkas spoke from one of the benches under the mead hall's rear awning. “More than special, I suppose.”

“By the Nine, you came out of nowhere.” The Imperial chuckled slightly, only at his own jumpiness.

“Then you're going to flinch now, too?” Kodlak wasn't one to sneak about, but this matter was somewhat sensitive, and the Harbinger couldn't risk Skjor's or Aela's reactions. Reman remained still, unaffected by the man's voice. “I trust you know why we sent Farkas to collect you.”

“You've got a hunch that I haven't been totally honest with you, right?” This old song and dance, the Imperial had a passing familiarity with it. In truth, Reman hadn't lied in his description of his mission, he simply hadn't told the elder werewolf everything.

“Actually, this is in regards to the Silver Hand.” Kodlak quirked a brow at the young man's suggestion, but it didn't receive another thought. The old Nord actually had believed that Reman was withholding information, though he had no proof beyond what his gut said. “A lieutenant, of all things, came here.”

“Are they scouting for an attack?” The Imperial never liked planning large battles, they simply caused too much confusion amongst the combatants. Reman wasn't one to run from a fight, but Jorrvaskr was within the city walls, civilians might get in the way.

“Actually, she asked for you.” Vilkas sounded somewhere between explanatory and inquisitive. The warrior had no idea why some woman had asked for the Imperial, by name, no less. Some things just didn't make sense when Reman was involved. “Care to explain has she knew more about you than we did?”

“I have an idea, but I need her name before I can confirm my suspicions.” The lycan knew who it was, and his gut nearly froze at the thought.

“Just some Breton, brown hair, Cyrodiilic accent with some hints of a High Rock lilt.” Vilkas had taken the interrogation, if it could even be called that, by the reigns. Kodlak would take over if things got out of hand, but he allowed the younger lycan to handle this. “Sound familiar?”

“Yeah, I know her, old friend from home.” Half of the truth, but no lies. Reman was not comfortable with how things were going, not one bit. “But, you wouldn't be asking if something hadn't worried you.”

“She mentioned your family name.” The Imperial understood completely, his relatives weren't the best people to have linked to the Companions. “Do you have any idea how bad things could get for us? Especially if the Stormcloaks find out, because of your carelessness, all of Whiterun is in danger!”

“Vilkas, calm yourself.” Kodlak never liked being harsh, but the old Harbinger knew when one had to be forceful. “I'm certain Reman has a good reason for hiding his heritage.” The aged Nord looked to the Imperial, as though searching his heart for some answer. “But, that isn't the reason for this meeting.”

“With respect, I must ask the true purpose, then.” Reman was glad that the heat was off of him. For the moment, he was out of the frying pan.

“I had been under the impression of a lack of honesty on your end." Kodlak looked over the Imperial with a critical eye, attempting to discern the truth. "Now, what haven't you told me?"
@#@#@#@#@#@#

The next morning had been rather uncomfortable, for various reasons. Fluttershy had been woken up by every other noise, and Glade stayed too alert to sleep. Rarity had been difficult to wake, and Dash had a stiff back from the hard dirt, which was to be expected of a pegasus stuck on the ground. Pinkie had absolutely no problems, she was a morning mare, as things went. Applejack, accustomed to early rises, was slightly put off by sleeping in after sunrise. Twilight, having stayed awake to continue her notes, had baggy eye, but nothing else.

Things came to a head when Glade started to vomit her previous meal into the underbrush.

Silly Science, You Have no Place Here

Skyrim seemed to have an abundance of wild plants and herbs, Twilight recognized quite a few specimens that she had seen hanging in Zecora's home. Pushing the thoughts of categorizing local flora aside, the Element of Magic looked forward, across the sweeping flatland before her. The group had gone around the cluster of mountains, the western side, of course, and Whiterun was over the horizon. Barring any unseen delay, the expedition would make it to the eastern wall by sunset.

“Glade, how's your stomach?” Luna was only asking because the lycan had been nauseated ever since she had woken up this morning. It was probably just something she ate, maybe it was the fish that had tried to eat her.

“I'll make it to Whiterun, I'm sure Reman will have some sort of remedy for it.” Glade was almost certain the her forebear knew most of the curious facets of lycanthropy, maybe even a few remedies for any ills that may plague werewolves. “Though I seem to recall him saying lycans can't get sick.”

“Maybe it's a virus you picked up in Equestria and it was just slow to develop.” Twilight wasn't a doctor, nor an expert on the supernatural, so she was just taking a blind poke at things. The lycan merely shrugged in response, clearly finished with the subject.

“I'm just glad the drama from yesterday is behind us.” Dash was still peeved about walking everywhere, but she was adapting. If anything, her hurting hooves bothered her the most, even more than being grounded. “By the way, where did you get the knife, Glade?”

“Found it.” The lycan mare shrugged, keeping the majority of the truth hidden away. Rainbow may have acted tough, but the concept of using a looted weapon would have turned her stomach.

“Lucky, staying strapped wouldn't be half bad.” Really, was the Element of Loyalty trying to talk like a Cloudsdale punk?

“Ah don' think keepin' a weapon out like that is a good idea.” Applejack didn't think that the locals would appreciate Glade carrying a knife around, especially in such an obvious location. The farmer wasn't certain of how people here behaved, or how they would react to certain things, especially open displays of aggression. “That's jus' askin' fer trouble.”

“Relax, we won't get into trouble.” Pinkie was smiling and bouncing along, intent on enjoying the foray into Tamriellic life. For reasons only known to the pink party pony, she stopped in her tracks. “Wait! What if we run into other werewolves, and they don't like sharp, pointy things?”

“What on earth are talking about, dear?” Even Rarity had trouble understanding Pinkie at times like this, and the gossip queen was adept at reading other ponies.

“Think about it!” The pink party pony appeared on the Element of Generosity's opposite side, having evidently discovered teleportation. “Reman used that glowy sword, and he only had it when he was fighting the deer-person, couldn't another werewolf think Glade's gonna want to fight if he sees the knife?”

“I'm a little worried that you may be onto something, Pinkie.” Luna wasn't thrilled about the prospect, to be light about it.

@#@#@#@#@#

Reman was more accustomed to respect when he was referred to by his family name, not the slight contempt that currently emanated from Vilkas. Kodlak, however, was taking it rather well, all things considered, even if the Harbinger had to speak with every witness about blabbing to any informants in Whiterun. Stormcloaks might try to kidnap the Imperial, and that many deaths should be avoided when possible, but it would be infinitely worse if they actually succeeded.

Ransom wouldn't get them anywhere, after all, Reman's family likely believed that he was dead. Lynette had known the Imperial had been bitten by a werewolf, maybe she had kept that secret under her hat. Regardless, a note claiming that Reman was alive would be seen as a low blow by his father, and the Imperial's mother would be out for blood. But if his grandfather found out, there would be no denying it.

Blood would be spilled over that supposedly dead son.

“I didn't know you'd ridden before.” Farkas had been sent with the Cyrodiil native, as a comrade to aid in this task's completion. Dustman's Cairn, and the fragment held within, a simple enough target. All Reman had to do was grab a piece of Ysgramor's ancient battleaxe, and all would be forgiven.

“All nobles in Cyrodiil learn equestrianism at an early age.” It was one lesson that the man had taken to, besides Conjuration magic, Reman had a talent for riding. The Imperial had modified his saddle so he could fire a bow while on horseback, a deadly technique that had been used by the Redguards for centuries. “One of the many benefits of being born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”

“I'll think I'd take my ring of dirt any day.” The Nord had a simple way of things, and didn't want to burden his life with the complexities of noble birth. Humility was always a refreshing trait to find in a warrior. “But the crypt's just up this hill, maybe two minutes.”

“What can we expect inside?” Reman knew that was a stupid question, all Nord crypts held the same things. If the Imperial was lucky, he'd pocket quite a bit of treasure, after he killed a lot of draugr. Why the Nords insisted on placing their dead in tombs like these, Reman would never know. Wait, Skyrim's soil freezes in the winter, so this actually made sense. Still, it was horrible for the souls of the dead, the ancient Nords seemed so easy to disturb. “Scratch that, dumb question.”

“I don't see why you're acting scared, nothing we haven't seen before.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

It was made abundantly clear that the ponies had lucked out when it came to Hircine's choice of who to send to Equestria. At the moment, the diplomatic envoy observed a small interchange of differing opinions on who Skyrim belonged to. Everypony was horrified at the small skirmish playing out before them, twelve Imperial Legionnaires against eight Stormcloak soldiers. The fight was hardly even, but the humans in blue were holding their own against the superior numbers.

“What could have provoked a civil war?” Luna was pondering the possibilities, though a clear answer eluded her. The Princess didn't have a sample of the population to study, her only real view into Tamriel had come from Reman, and the Imperial was hardly an average subject.

“It could be any number of things, Griffins have these conflicts almost twice a decade.” Twilight had also studied foreign cultures, an attempt to grow more accustomed to the alien plane of Nirn. Like her other attempts, this one seemed to pay off.

“Did you see that hit?” Rainbow didn't seem too concerned about the political state of Skyrim or the Empire, the skirmish had her complete attention. The blow she referred to had knocked the helmet from an Legionnaire's head, and sent the steel-skinned warrior to the ground. The fighter's friend seemed to take offense, and seized revenge on the assaulting Nord. With a punch that made Glade's jaw hurt, the smaller human sent the one in blue into the air. A warhammer slammed into the lightly armored man's back, certainly shattering bone beneath the iron bludgeon. “That one had to hurt.”

“Cease!” A voice roared across the open fields, clear even from the ponies' perch, over one hundred yards away. The source was an Imperial, clad in steel Legion armor, standing in a passive and diplomatic posture. Much to Luna's surprise, both sides of the battle dropped their weapons, even helping each other up, it seemed the Imperial had worked some sort of miracle.

“How did he do that?” Rarity raised a pair of binoculars to her eyes, the magnifying lenses provided a clear view of the battlefield. Neatly trimmed, brown hair covered the man's head; a long scar ran form one ear, all the way to his mouth. But, the basic aesthetics of his face weren't what was amazing about the man. The Element of Generosity quietly gasped at the revelation. “Princess, you need to see this.”

Quickly, Luna moved the surveillance equipment to herself and tried to see what had startled the alabaster unicorn. She didn't have to search much at all. The Princess blinked, took a double take, even cleaned the lenses, but nothing could the truth of the situation. It was made abundantly clear that this was no normal Imperial, not by a long shot.

“I think we just saw Reman's doppelganger in action.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Grandfather,

I am aware that you aren't one for pleasantries, no one in our family is. I am only troubling you because a certain Breton visited my camp yesterday, I'm certain you remember Lynette, Gaston Jemane's duaghter. Anyway, she gave me some wonderful news, though it came with more than a pinch of salt. According to her, Reman is still alive! After all theses years, he must have been traveling this entire time!

Now, for the bad news. You were in Kvatch at the time, so I know that you recall the incident. You and Mother seemed particularly devastated when the priest told us the beast was a werewolf, and Lynette had admitted that Reman had been bitten. Our fears have been confirmed with this revelation, and my brother now suffers from the affliction. Though, if Lynette is to be believed, there may still be hope.

It would seem that after she and her mother left for High Rock, Lynette joined the Silver Hand. If you didn't know, they're a group that hunts werewolves across High Rock and Skyrim. Apparently, Lynette's a lieutenant, in charge of a hunting party and everything. I wouldn't mention that if it wasn't important, and this detail is of the utmost necessity. Reman, while transformed, found and eradicated Lynette's camp, but left her alive. If my brother still remembers her, then there may be time enough to find a cure before he succumbs to the beast in full.

- Uriel

Dawnguard Release Chapter.

Because I'll be too busy playing Dawnguard or working the fields tomorrow, I'm putting this up today!

@#@#@#@#@#@#

The two warriors had fought through a veritable horde of draugr, the ancient corpses did little to slow the lycans. At least the preserved bodies were easy to take down, barring the occasional magic wielder. Things seemed to be easy, until they found themselves in a certain chamber, a round one, with a few shelves filled with ruined books. There was a portcullis on the far side, and the only discernible lever was in a small side room, obviously a trap.

“Well... one of us has to trigger it if we want to get through.” The Imperial looked at the simple machine with a slight apprehension. Given the assignment's requirements, the Cyrodiil native was forced into the horrible situation.

“Try not to do anything stupid.” Farkas was trying to sound commanding, as though being Reman's Shield Sibling warranted his leadership.

“I should say the same thing to you, ice brain.” The two messed around with each other, but they never said anything truly offensive. All joking aside, the Imperial stepped into the small alcove, he really didn't want to do this. Reman put his weight into it, and the rusted switch gave way, opening the sealed portcullis.

The one leading to the alcove, however, slammed home, locking the Imperial inside.

“I really should have seen that one coming.” The young man had expected a hidden door or something, not a simple lock in like this. Much to Reman's displeasure, Farkas seemed to find the situation amusing.

“I see another lever in the next room, be back in a second.” The long haired Nord turned to the opened gate, only to be barred access. A number of Silver Hand entered the chamber, each was armed and armored, ready for blood. They surrounded Farkas, with his back against the wall, he had only one option.

“Which one is this?” One innocuous member of the hunting party seemed unfamiliar with Farkas, or perhaps he referred to the Imperial in wolf armor.

“It doesn't matter, he's in the Circle, he dies!” A feminine voice echoed from a hunter clad in steel plate, a voice the Reman was intimately familiar with. The young lieutenant likely had no idea who the Imperial was, the armor's helmet obscured most of Reman's face.

“Killing you will bring glory to our order.” The Silver Hand recruited Orcs, it seemed, the brutish elves were perfect for using silver claymores. Farkas took the threats in stride, even smiling at the leader's order to kill him.

“None of you will be alive to tell the tale.” With a fierce snarl, the Nord began to change shape. The Companions strain was unique, the lycan form's flesh materialized over the user's body, and things must have compounded from there. Regardless of how it worked, the werewolf got things done.

Two fell before the battle truly began, their silver weapons clattered to the ground. One Nord swung his sword, only to have the offending arm nearly ripped from its socket. The leader in steel plate thrust her own silver blade, piercing the lycan's tough hide without effort. Without so much a howl of pain, Farkas backhanded the heavily armored human, sending her flying against the closed portcullis.

“Leave this one alive!” Reman hooked his arms through the bars, pinning both the woman's arms to her side, and her body against the gate. The shifted Nord listened to his Shield Brother, and focused solely on the remaining Silver Hand. Actually, in the carnage, two had killed each other by mistake, leaving only the Imperial, the leader, and Farkas alive. Without hesitation, the Nord ran from the room, and threw the lever.

Reman shoved the woman in steel plate to the ground, before retrieving his arms from the bars. Wouldn't want to get those caught, now would he?

“Bastard!” The helmeted woman whirled around, wielding a scavenged sword. The Imperial brought his own blade to against the silver weapon, Skyforge steel slicing through the jeweler's metal with relative ease. The lieutenant was about to respond, but Reman prevented her action, merely by removing his own helmet.

“Lynette, I believe it's time we had a heartfelt conversation.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

The map marked the ruined structure as the Western Watchtower, a scorched, charred shell of its former self. The ponies were within sight of it, though they used cover to remain hidden as best they could. The only real surprise that the group had come across was a large skeleton that resembled a four-tusked elephant. It wasn't the strangest thing they had come across, but it certainly wasn't normal. Well, normal by Equestrian standards, anyway.

“There, up on the hill.” Luna pointed a hoof, and indeed, there was a massive fortress standing on the summit. The must have been Dragonsreach, the capitol of Whiterun Hold, and the home of Jarl Balgruuf. That made the mass of buildings on the slopes and base the actual city, and Reman was inside, waiting for them. First, though, they needed to reach the eastern wall, and the ponies were currently on the western side.

“Weren't we supposed to enter at night?” Reman had never hinted at the option, but instinct told Glade that the plan was flawless. “Guards don't patrol the east very often, and it looks like it'll rain.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too.” Rainbow was in Ponyville's Weather Patrol, and she recognized storm clouds when she saw then. A smile spread across the cyan mare's features as she understood the plan's full implications.“The storm should keep the guards inside, and we fly everypony over, right?”

“That was the plan, but we don't know how reliable the weather is, though.” Twilight wasn't a weathermare, but she had studied the Everfree Forest's meteorological patterns. The Element discovered that the seasons brought most of the change, and there wasn't a small pattern to be found. “We'll need to wait until tonight to decide.”

“Oh, so it'll be a surprise for them!” Pinkie yelled in a hushed tone, a feat many thought was impossible. However, nopony knew who she meant by them, but that was just a Pinkie Pie mystery.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“You sure it was a good idea to leave her tied up near the exit?” Farkas hadn't expected the Imperial to show mercy like that, but Reman had his own way of doing things.

“I would prefer we just focus on the task at hand.” Lynette was the last thing the Imperial wanted to think about, besides, there were more pressing matters to deal with, first. The lieutenant didn't even rate in the top three at the moment, the treasure room was Reman's top priority.

“Well then, I'm pretty sure that's the piece of Wuuthrad on the far table.” The Nord motion to the other end of the vault-like chamber. Even at this distance, the Imperial could see a dark shape sitting on a small pedestal, the color of ancient, Nordic metal. There was only one thing standing between the two lycans and their prize.

“What are we going to do about these caskets?” The Nords had a tendency to place tombs across and inside walls, and this room was a fine example. From the small corridor, to the round chamber containing the fragment, sealed draugr lined walls.

“If we move the piece, they'll swarm us.” Farkas was pondering his options, and leaving without the fragment of Wuuthrad wasn't among them. “How should we prepare for that?”

“Don't treat me like a whelp, I'm thinking.” Reman moved towards one of the caskets, attempting to find a flash of inspiration. He ran a finger around the lid, feeling the small crevice that separated the outermost portion from the main container. Yes, that might work, but just to test his theory, Reman placed the blade of a scavenged silver claymore into the small sliver. Perfect fit. “Farkas, we should pry as many of these open as we possibly can, deal with the draugr individually.”

“That almost sounded like a plan.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

For Pinkie, life was one big party, and she loved parties! But, seeing those humans fight earlier, she came to understand that life in Tamriel might be much harder than in Equestria. Maybe that was why Reman seemed so serious all the time, he just never had the chance to unwind. But Pinkie had gotten him to attend a party, and he had a lot of fun, even if he kind of... died later that day. But for there to be a war between the people of the same nation, there must be something seriously wrong with the way things go around here.

“You've been awfully quiet, Pinkie.” The party pony was torn from her musings by Glade, the mare with the most knowledge of this alien world. The lycan had noticed the Element of Laughter's coat had dulled slightly, something that shouldn't happen to ponies.

“I've just been thinking.” Pinkie didn't sound like her usual, bubbly self. That was cause enough for concern, given her usual disposition. “This world just seems... harsh.” In the distance, an adventurer fell to the ground, her supplies spilling about. The Element and lycan watched the entire scene, even as several others passed by the woman, none stopped to offer assistance. “Why doesn't anypony help that one?”

“This world is tough, even the fish need armor plating to survive.” Glade spoke with a slight to of resignation, as though nothing could change what they saw. This example of general apathy must have been commonplace, even the nicer locals did nothing to bring aid to the traveler. “But, there are still plenty of those that care for others.”

Glade motioned to a figure that was approaching the adventurer, his posture and stride were calm and easygoing. A reptilian tail swished behind the kind stranger as he helped the woman with her task, picking up over half of her scattered supplies. The lizard-man handed them to the adventurer without asking for thanks, simply waving to her as he walked away.

“I guess you're right!” Pinkie's color returned in full, as though a single act of kindness could actually change one's outlook on an entire nation. But, Glade supposed such things were possible, especially in this harsh, alien realm.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Why don't Nords have proper burials!?” Reman had to shout to be heard over the melee. Only a few coffins could be opened, but they were drops in a glass, the difference was so little. The Imperial slashed at a Wight's neck, the desiccated tendons proved stronger than one would believe. Failing so sever the corpse's head, the lycan kicked his undead enemy into another draugr, one of the Restless variant.

“To keep provincials like you in Cyrodiil!” Farkas was having a tough time with the living corpses, he was constantly swarmed by the annoying things. The werewolf's slow attacks only made the draugr's jobs easier, Farkas' two-handed weapon strikes were avoided with little effort. The man may have been simple, but he hit much harder than Reman. With a pirouette, the Skyforge steel claymore cleaved though desiccated throats, separating heads from their shoulder-top perches. The ancient zombies redoubled the effort, eager to destroy the intruder. “How do you Imperials deal with the undead?”

“We burn 'em.” With a devilish grin, Reman rushed to the wall, and removed a torch from its holder. Having forgetting every spell to pay for Conjurer's Folly, the man was open to other ideas, especially the violent ones. The lycan waved his torch around, keeping the corpses away, and cut those that came too close down to size. The preservative oils used in Nordic embalming were highly flammable, and draugr weren't intelligent enough to avoid the burning torch. Reman swung his light like a mace, and the corpse caught fire almost instantly.

However, the Imperial was now dealing with a flaming draugr.

The Right Man in the Wrong Place...

The incendiary ghoul lunged at its attacker, the one who dared steal the treasure it was ordered to protect. The resurrected corpse seemed to have the advantage, its flaming body kept the Imperial in a constant backpedal. The human had to lunge to the side in order to avoid its attacks, the brave warrior was on the retreat. Things were looking up for the ancient Nord, for the first time in centuries, an adventurer was going to die by its hands.

The situation was improving, until a silver bolt sliced through the draugr's brain.

“I figured you guys would need some help.” Lynette Jemane held a crossbow in her hands, a smug and sincere grin was plastered on her face. Reman never knew that anyone could make steel plate look attractive, but the Breton woman pulled it off, somehow. “I never figured you'd be rescued by me, but I can't say I don't like the feeling.”

“Well, I’m not displeased by the results.” Reman tossed the corpse to the ground, ready to attack the next draugr in his way. “But, I must ask how you freed yourself.” The Imperial stabbed his steel through a dustman's stomach, throwing it over his shoulder.

“You used a rope as old as this crypt, you should be grateful that I didn't just leave.” The woman all ready had a shot loaded into her crossbow, ready to end another walking corpse. With a quick pull of a trigger, the silver bolt found its target, and lodged itself firmly into a draugr's chest.

“If you two lovebirds are done, I could use some help over here!”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

The clouds over Whiterun were still darkening, with the sun nearing the horizon, the time to enter the city was fast approaching. Everypony was doing something to pass the time until the infiltration, every simpleminded task was different from the next. Summer Glade was currently munching on some locally gathered berries, Twilight scanned them to see if they were poisonous, and the Element said they were fine for pony consumption. Actually, eating them gave the lycan a cooling sensation, not unpleasant, not chilling, but like she'd be able to stand higher temperatures. Besides, they tasted amazing, compared to the rations Glade had been forced to eat, and the berries were leagues ahead of that stupid fish.

“Those clouds don't look too welcoming.” Rainbow wasn't scared, her voice didn't hold any of the normal signs of fear, but she certainly didn't like how the weather appeared to be brewing. It was going to storm at some point after nightfall, that was certain. The wind was picking up, the air felt heavier, all classic signs of a rogue bunch of storm clouds, or a heavy rain from the Everfree.

“Ah know what'cha mean, Dash, mah family takes cover when we see weather like that.” Applejack's farm was right at the edge of the ominous forest, she knew how storms looked before they began. The alien world behaved just like the Everfree, so the concepts seemed interchangeable, at least in some respects.

“When we enter Whiterun, we need to get inside as soon as possible.” Luna hoped she would receive some signal from Reman, even the wave of a torch would be sufficient. If the Imperial was in the city, why wasn't he trying to contact the Princess?

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“That's the last of them.” Farkas had worked up a sweat, panting as he observed the carnage set before him. Combining the three humans' collective skills, the draugr were slain with startling efficiency, never had the Companion believed that two werewolves and a Silver Hand lieutenant could make an amazing team.

“Yeah, let me rest before we get out of here, okay?” Reman had been stabbed numerous times, he'd taken worse, but he needed to sit down for a bit. Lynette was using Healing Hands on her ex-fiance, almost amazed at the level of damage the werewolf could take.

“You're lucky I know Restoration magic, otherwise you might be sleeping for the next eternity in this crypt.” The Breton had mastered the use of Healing Hands around the time Reman had learned his first Conjuration spell from Gaston. For some reason, the Imperial grasp the summoning art faster than the use of a blade, it was usually the opposite with Cyrodiil's indigenous population.

“I wouldn't put money on that.” The table in the rotunda had become the unofficial resting point for the motley crew. Farkas really only had one flaw about him: he was too kindhearted. That didn't mean that the Nord was soft or merciful, he was just too trusting. If someone in the Circle said a person was okay, then the lycan had no problems with them. That was probably the only reason he was letting Lynette anywhere near Reman. “I've seen the god-slayer take worse.”

“What?” The woman ceased her work to think, that made no sense, Reman was strong, sure, but calling him a god-slayer was taking things a bit far.

“Long story.” With nothing else, the Imperial hopped off the the ancient table, injuries healed enough to be nothing more than annoyances. The honed draugr swords and axes would make fine weapons, for someone else, because Reman only sold looted items, but they made short work of his wolf armor, though. “Let's get back to Whiterun.”

“Hold up, I want to take a look around, first.” Farkas hadn't come this far to leave empty-handed, and the chest by the table drew his attention like nothing else.

“What could you possibly find interesting in this place?” The Imperial was only sounding impatient because he was in pain, stab wounds made him irritable.

“That seems to fit the description.” Lynette piped in her two septims whenever she felt necessary, which was often. At least that hadn't changed about her. The Breton pointed to a section of the back wall, behind the table. It was obvious, but in the earlier melee, the strange artifact had gone unnoticed. It was a curved, stone wall, etched with odd symbols, perhaps glyphs of some ancient language. “What is that thing?”

“That's a Word Wall, ancient Nords put them up all over Skyrim.” Farkas had lived in the frozen nation his entire life, he was raised on old legends. “They're written in the language of the old Dragon Cult.”

“Any idea what it says?” Reman had changed his mind, this strange Word Wall seemed rare, and rare finds were valuable to the right buyer.

“Sorry, the only ones that can read it are the Greybeards, and that's still a stretch.” While Farkas was wondering about the artifact's meaning or purpose for being in this crypt, the Imperial was wondering how he could use this to his advantage.

“Well, maybe I should take a rubbing of the words, let the Greybeards see them.” It would make the second time that Reman had climbed the Seven Thousand Steps, maybe they would let him into High Hrothgar again. The Imperial couldn't use the Thu'um, the closest he came was the Voice of the Emperor power, and that wasn't really special. Although, anyone could learn the skill, and Reman hadn't known anything about the language used in a Shout, but this might be his way of learning at least some portion of the ancient Nord art.

“Couldn't hurt, I doubt anything could break these things.” With Farkas' blessing, if one could call it that, the Imperial set about copying the strange script, intent of making something truly valuable of the dungeon crawl.

Thirty minutes and twenty rolls of paper later, Reman had completed his task, though he had to use two rolls for the longer words.

“Now, that just leaves you, Lynette.” The Imperial knew that there were only two options, and both of them made him ill. They could let her live, and then she could report to her superiors and attack Jorrvaskr, not good. Reman could have Farkas kill her, but he had promised Gaston to watch after her, and the Imperial always kept his word. “Give me a good reason to let you go.”

“We were going to get married, if you recall.” Farkas quirked a brow at the small revelation, but remained respectfully silent, allowing the two to settle things between themselves. “Isn't that good enough for you?”

“I'm not going to allow personal feelings to cloud my judgment in this.” Reman had learned how to deal with people in a manner that gave him an impartial stance on issues of importance. The Imperial crossed his arms, and gave the woman an expectant look.

“I've never done anything against you.” A lie, and a blatant one at that, but she seemed to believe it. One look in her eyes, and Reman knew that Lynette was telling the truth, at least what she thought was true.

“How so?” The Imperial needed to hear her justification of her actions, just for his own sake. “As I recall, this makes twice that you've tried to kill me.”

“I didn't know it was you the first time!” Lynette took a defensive posture, trying to protect herself from what Reman was saying. “I joined the Silver Hand to find you, so I could help you, I would never try to kill you.” The woman lunged at her ex, neither Farkas nor Reman moved to stop her. Lynette gripped the Imperial's armor, and got as close to his face as she could. “Look me in the eye, is this the face of a liar?”

“Lynette, your father made me promise to look after you, I will continue to do my best in that endeavor.” It took a few moments for the Imperial's word to sink in, but they took root, and the Breton woman understood his meaning. She would be allowed to live, without condition, Farkas and Reman would do nothing to stop her escape. “Now, go home to Kvatch, where you belong.”

“My mother and I moved to High Rock after the incident.” That certainly answered the question of how Lynette managed to join the Silver Hand. Regardless of the details of her recruitment, the woman had a determined look about her. The Breton crossed her arms over her chest and cocked one leg out, a sign of aggression from childhood. “I'll not return to Cyrodiil without you following.”

“Then you'll be waiting for quite some time.” Reman removed himself from Lynette's grip, and went about searching corpses for any loot he mat have missed.

“And why, pray tell, is that?” The brunette had a fair bit of patience for the lycan, he was her childhood neighbor, after all. The Breton knew how the Imperial behaved, and this was a classic sign that Reman was attempting to keep someone from involving themselves in something dangerous.

“I'm not the one being interrogated.” The lycan had never so much as raised his voice at the woman, and he wasn't about to start. Lynette had a few tells, and they were all flashing her distress, though she wasn't worried about either werewolves, something else was plaguing the woman. “If you live in High Rock, go back.”

“The Jarl of Markath sealed the only ways across the border.” Reman knew that, but there were many unofficial paths through the mountains of the Reach. Taking an old goat trail would be grueling task, and take about two weeks if one started at Markarth. “Before you even say anything, I could never avoid Forsworn patrols long enough to enter High Rock.”

“Then ask to be transferred back.” The Imperial didn't want Lynette near him right now, not during this mission. Growing up, Reman had courted the Breton, and a combination of a promise to her father, and his own instinct forced the Imperial to keep her safe. Right now, those very drives were shouting to remove Lynette from the country.

“I can't.” Reman was about to protest, but was unable to voice his opinion.

“She's right.” Farkas had been silent for as long as he could, but things were getting ridiculous, and it was time to move. The simple sentence was enough to draw attention from the Breton, enough for her to speak without interruption.

“The Silver Hand sent me here on a suicide mission.” Lynette's words gave the Imperial pause, if they were true, a number of people would have an angry warrior hunting them down. Reman remained silent, this was the only consent he gave for her to continue. “When you left me alive after slaughtering my team, the senior members of the order decided that I was a liability.” Lynette didn't look like she was mad, rather, she appeared very calm, almost at ease. “Either the Circle member that was supposed to retrieve the fragment killed me, or the Silver Hand would.”

Reman groaned, he did not like how his options narrowed. If he didn't do things correctly, the Breton would die, and he would break his promise to Gaston. The lieutenant was about to get what she wanted, the thing she sought when she joined the order.

“You really haven't given me any other option.”

Now You're Thinking With Lightning

Rain. It was raining over Whiterun Hold, the dim light of the afternoon was darkened by storm clouds. A flash of lightning lit the ground, revealing every humanoid and beast in the surrounding area, a peel of thunder frightened horses and scattered birds. Storms in Skyrim were something to behold, both calmer and fiercer than one in Cyrodiil. At least the arctic country was too cold to be unbearably hot and humid, but the ground was almost always muddy, everything has its drawbacks.

The falling water plastered the Imperial's hair to his head and face, he was too busy practicing to enter Jorrvaskr. The Circle wouldn't appreciate him attempting magic indoors, anyway, so Reman wasn't about to ask. That was the only drawback to not knowing any spells, one had to manipulate raw magicka to increase his of her skill, and that was exactly what Reman was doing. With the thrust of an open palm, lightning crashed form the sky, obliterating a practice dummy in fiery splinters. That eruption was almost as impressive as the his first attempt, back in Kvatch, with Gaston and his daughter...

Lynette was bunked in the Bannered Mare, Reman would tell Kodlak about the Breton, eventually. At the moment, the lycan had bigger things on his mind. The frequent lightning provided adequate light to search the area, so long as Reman's eyes could adapt. A quick survey of the eastern farms revealed the eight ponies, waiting for the Imperial's signal. Of course, it would have been better to actually have a signal prepared. Sighing, Reman left his perch to find a quill, ink and paper, he needed to write a letter.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Rain. The oppressing clouds blotted out the moons and obscured the stars, and provided enough darkness that even Rarity's coat blended nicely. Everypony was huddled under a waterproof tarp, avoiding the rain as best they could, waiting for the signal to enter the city. Of course, there hadn't been a preset sign, and the eight mares were stuck, shivering against the chilling night. That was until a flare of magic enveloped Princess Luna's horn.

“A letter from Reman?” As though the Nirn wanted to answer the alicorn, a roll of paper, neatly sealed with a wax paw-print. “Why would he send one in the middle of a storm?” the answer was undoubtedly held within, but the Princess still felt like asking aloud. Breaking the still-warm wax, Luna read the note.

Hurry up, patrols aren't near you. - Reman

PS – We need a signal for any other situations like this.

Needing no further inspiration, the mares jumped into action. The pegasi and lone alicorn wrapped their legs around another equine, no pony with wings was without a payload. The grounded mares took a running start before takeoff, and allowed their flying partners to catch a draft before taking to the skies. Fluttershy was the only one that would have had trouble, so Twilight gave her as much assistance, lightening herself to aid the Element of Kindness.

Hooves crashed onto soggy earth, the ponies nearly lost their footing as mud gave way under the force of their entry. Their were no injuries, though Rarity would contest that claim. She wasn't harmed, no, she merely fell and tarnished her coat with dark sludge. The eight mares took a moment to get their bearings, acquaint themselves with Whiterun's interior, though more specifically, Jorrvaskr's rear yard. The first thing Glade noticed was the large, wooden awning, with torches burning beneath the outdoor roof.

She also noticed the six humans currently using it to stay out of the weather.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“I really need to stop trying to anticipate what you're going to do next, Reman.” Kodlak didn't sound like he was unnerved by the small equines. If anything, he seemed amused by the colorful ponies. Skjor and Vilkas, however, were not happy about the seemingly harmless creatures. Ignoring the two Nords, the eldest lycan addressed the group before him. “I trust you are the ones seeking an alliance with the Companions?”

“Indeed we are, sir.” Luna bowed respectfully, trying to approach from a position of humility and goodwill. Upon rising, however, the Princess was met with a response she had not expected.

“There is a difference between diplomacy and boot licking, I suggest you learn it.” The old man hadn't the time to deal with subservient politicians, he was breaking his own creed enough as it was. “But, I suppose courtesy is needed between us.” At those words, the fourteen visibly relaxed. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

For some reason, the ponies hadn't made use of the awning. Needless to say, they immediately changed that fact. Blasts of magic dried the mares, Skjor scoffed st the display of arcane talent. Shaking herself dry, Glade was the first to take a seat on one of the benches, obviously not one for participating in politics. The royal alicorn, however, decided to begin the negotiations.

“I am Princess Luna, co-ruler of the kingdom of Equestria.” While she was trying to sound both formal and casual, and was failing at it, at least she wasn't using the Royal Canterlot Voice. It was likely that many within the city would awaken if the Night Princess was that loud. “As you know, I have come to represent not only my sister's interests, but my own.”

“And those interests would be?” The Companions had a rule about staying out of politics, the law wasn't official, but many within the group followed it. Kodlak was no different, he had denied both Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius in their requests for support. Though, perhaps these equines would prove to be a cut above the petty squabbles of old warriors.

“Ensuring Equestria's security and alliance with both the Empire and Aldmeri Dominion.” The request wasn't worded in the best possible way, and the old Nord could tell that Luna didn't have all the information she needed to understand the full situation in Skyrim, much less the Empire as a whole. “Reman kindly informed my sister and I of your influence within this country.”

“Did he also tell you about the Companions' rule about political conflicts?” Kodlak understood the implications that this could bring, especially after Hircine permanently bridged the planes, everyone with ambition would have his eyes on Equestria. If the Dominion thought they could harvest the ponies for resources or labor, then the old werewolf would gladly step in, for all his sword arm was worth.

“Indeed he did, though this doesn't count as a conflict, bloodshed is incredibly unlikely in this situation.” The royal pony seemed to have the utmost confidence in her thoughts, though Luna's estimates may have been off by a bit. “I hope that this nullifies any reluctance on your end.”

“I fail to see where the Companions benefit from this arrangement.” Kodlak didn't care for riches, he had plenty, and gold flowed into Jorrvaskr faster than one could collect it. Money wouldn't be of any value in these negotiations. “We are mercenaries, Princess.”

“Then perhaps my expedition's unlimited funds will be appealing to your group.” To illustrate her point, the blue alicorn pulled a sack from her saddlebag, and gave it a toss. Vilkas put himself between the airborne bag and the Harbinger, easily catching the cloth container. Its contents were hard, but the textile bowl made no metallic noise when shaken.

“Well, Reman, they are here as a favor to you.” Kodlak didn't say anything else, he didn't need to, the old lycan's message was clear. Without a word, Vilkas tossed the sack to the Imperial, a silent order to open it. It was a formality, the Circle was well aware of how peaceful the ponies were, even if they were slow to believe what had flown into their training yard.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Numerous gems, mostly emeralds and sapphires.” Glade was impressed by her forebear's quick understanding of the crystalline minerals. Though, the Imperial's monotone voice and blank, stony expression was unsettling, but he was here as a warrior, not a friend. “Given the number, I'd estimate a value of at least ten thousand septims.”

“Well, Reman, that should cover the cost to hire you for a few months.” Luna's eyes nearly bugged out of her head when Kodlak said those words. She was about to voice her concerns, that the gems were a payment to buy the Companions' alliance, not Reman's services. “Are you truly surprised?”

“We were hoping to gain your trust, not hire anyone.” The Princess of Night was confused, perhaps more so than the Imperial she had inadvertently purchased. Reman had pledged his assistance before the jewels changed hooves, and with his impressive debt, there was no reason to bolster his devotion.

“The Companions stay out of politics whenever possible, and this is no different.” The old Nord was stalwart in his beliefs, and he would not be swayed. “I cannot involve anyone, but I can give you some advice on how to improve your chances.”

“Any assistance you could provide would be appreciated.” Luna was relieved to hear the Harbinger's offer of aid, even if it wasn't what the Princess of Night was hoping for.

“Don't try to sway the Jarls or the High Queen, you should focus on the people. The leaders have alliances and grudges against one another, but the citizenry does not, beyond the division of the civil war.” Kodlak knew how difficult it would be to earn the trust of the sons and daughters of Skyrim, and the problems would only be magnified if Reman's heritage became common knowledge. “Get the people to trust you, and their leaders will follow suit.”

“Your counsel is much appreciated, Kodlak.” Luna refrained from bowing, better to not disperse the miniscule amount of respect that she may have earned. Though the current objective had been reached, the subject of sleeping arrangements still stood. “I don't suppose you could point us to the nearest inn?”

“Nonsense, no friend of a Companion should sleep in the Bannered Mare when there are plenty of empty beds in Jorrvaskr.” Kodlak was one of the more hospitable Harbingers in the group's history, he would not turn someone from a warm fire, not if the other options was freezing rain. “Come in, we can share a few drinks before bed.”

While the ponies were slightly worried about accepting the warrior's offer, the mares gave their collective consent, and followed Kodlak Whitemane and the rest of the Cirle inside the ancient mead hall.

In the relaxed atmosphere, no one noticed Reman and Glade sneak downstairs.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Uriel

Your previous letter has troubled me deeply, it is regrettable that such wonderful news must be paired with such tragedy. I have written your father on this matter, and his war camp will be on the lookout for Reman, maybe he'll have more luck than either of us in this matter. I must ask that you stay in the Whiterun camp, your position is too vital to defend against any Stormcloak assault. I have issued a standing order to capture werewolves alive, and published bounties for any civilians that do so. Perhaps Reman will find us, first. We can only hope and pray that he is delivered safely to us.

- Marcus

Slapstick Comedy at its Finest

Glade decided that the room she found herself in was pleasant, and made infinitely more so by the company. The lycan and her forebear had excused themselves from the gathering above, opting to spend time together, instead. The two were sitting in the Circle's personal area, the Imperial's private quarters, to be precise. Reman had procured a vintage wine from a Khajiit trader, and the two werewolves sipped on it between bites of food and conversation.

“We came all this way, just to hand you a bag of gems and be denied help.” The lycan mare chuckled and took another bite of the strange bread. Actually, every part if the meal tasted fantastic, almost professional in quality. “Where did you find this stuff, anyway?”

“I cooked most of it.” Mainly the meat dish, but the soup had been his own creation as well. One can't really prepare bread after it has been baked.

“Since when do you cook?” Glade knew that there were quite a few things that she had been left in the dark about, the lycan mare and Rose hadn't discussed much in regards of Reman.

“You'd be amazed at what you pick up around the Empire.” The lycan mare understood, she herself had learned a number of tricks during her training with the Royal Guard. “Every country in the Empire has its own cuisine, and the locals can't really keep things like that a secret.”

“Well, at least we have someone who knows the local flora, now.” Glade took another sip of the fermented drink. “I was starting to wonder about what was edible.” The mare giggled as she recalled her encounter with the aquatic predator, though she enjoyed her revenge much more than that. “I actually had to eat a fish from Lake Ilinalta, damned thing tried to make a meal out of me.”

“You ate a slaughterfish?” Reman knew how the violent fish tasted, the Cyrodiil and Morrowind variants were less delectable than their Skyrim counterparts. Still, they made a good meal for anyone who wasn't able to hunt a bear, and too stupid to use a bow. “Bet that was fun.”

“It was fine, but I was sick the next morning.” Glade rolled her eyes at the thought, getting poisoned on her first day in this realm hadn't been part of the mare's plan. Noticing her forebear's expression, the lycan mare inquired about the occurrence. “Happens all the time, right?”

“No, no it doesn't.” Reman was about to press the issue, but a loud bang from about took priority over his own curiosity.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Twilight was amazed by the Circle's varying behavior. While Kodlak had maintained a civil and controlled attitude, the other four were anything but. Vilkas and Farkas were recounting tales of battle and glory, which Skjor then had to outdo with his own stories. Though the Princess was hesitant to allow the Elements near the group of warriors, she understood that tonight was a time for celebration.

“I still can't get over the fact that you're a bunch of horses.” The lone woman, Aela the Huntress, was one of the Circle's more vocal members. The redheaded Nord had no trouble understanding that such creatures could live in Tamriel, but the thought of pegasi and unicorns talking just didn't sit well with her.

“We're ponies, not horses.” Rainbow Dash was quick to respond, not really thinking about what she said, nor the ramifications if the woman took offense. Besides, the cyan mare was certain she could handle the Companion in a fight. “Reman only made that mistake once.”

“No wonder he had such an easy time adjusting, the Imperial's had a silver spoon in his mouth since birth.” Aela's words were harsher than she had meant, but she was still mad about Reman's deception. “His sisters probably kept a few ponies as pets.”

“Bite your tongue, Aela, you should know better than to speak ill of a Shield Brother.” Kodlak intervened before any others could, all in hopes of preventing anything from spawning off the malcontent words. However, the Huntress took the Harbinger as meaning that Reman was preferred over her, with Aela running high on anger, this posed a problem.

“You've been taking his side since he first walked through those doors.” It seemed that a number of feeling were about to be vented, everything else in the room ceased making noise, even the fire's crackling seemed to fade into the background. Fluttershy and Pinkie took cover, though the Element of Laughter was hiding in preparation of a counter-aggression strike. It was of the banana cream variety.

“Aela, calm yourself.” Skjor wasn't one to rush to Reman's defense, the two men actually had a deep disdain for one another. The one-eyed Nord put his hands up in an attempt to calm the redhead. “You aren't yourself right now, maybe you should lie down.”

“And now you're taking up for him?” The woman launched herself from her seat, Aela's chair crashed to the ground with more noise than one would expect. “Of course, leave it to a couple of Imperial dogs to look after each other!”

“If you have something to say, huntress, say it to my face.” Reman voice cut the air like a knife, silence the redhead's violence, for the moment. While a crashing noise wasn't cause for concern in Jorrvaskr, the Companions brawled on a daily basis, with the diplomatic expedition in the mead hall, the Imperial was on the lookout. In any case, Reman looked like he was ready for a fight, the earlier conflict at Dustman's Cairn seemingly forgotten.“You certainly seem to have a few grievances, air them.”

“Don't even try to speak to me like you're so much better.” Aela's muscles tensed, ready to pounce on the Imperial, should he try to reach her. The two werewolves were in a standoff, neither making a move, nor speaking to the other. Reman and the huntress circled in the open space near the stairs, and the Imperial lack of a weapon was made obvious. The Circle member had a Skyforge steel dagger on her hip, whereas Reman was unarmed. “You don't even have the courage to fight with a warrior's tools.”

“You speak of magic like you know some.” Taking jabs at the Imperial's arcane skills, and current lack thereof, was a surefire way to anger him. Right now, all Aela wanted was for Reman to attack, it'd give her a good reason to end him. A blue aura of raw magicka enveloped the lycan's sword arm, as though he was about to unleash some age-old technique. “Maybe I should show you what a spellsword can do.”

“Both of you, settle down.” Kodlak's voice left no room for protest, respect for the elder lycan was present in both would-be combatants. The huntress' hand moved away from her blade, and the glow dispersed from the Imperial's arm. “Aela, get to bed, Reman and the ponies will be out of Whiterun before sunrise.”

The huntress slowly nodded her head, before slinking towards the stairs. She gave Reman plenty of room as she passed him, though she still wished to throw a few blows. Much to Aela's surprise, one of the ponies scampered from the stairwell, eager to avoid the Nord woman. Despite the distraction, the huntress still made her way to the basement. She would likely stay there for the rest of the night.

“You owe me twenty septims.” Farkas was speaking to his brother, the two had a slight gambling problem. The same twenty coins had changed hands more times than anyone in the Companions could count, and they would continue to do so.

“Dare I ask what you two bet on this time?” Reman pulled up a seat and popped the cork from a bottle, finding the one surefire way to get his body out of combat mode. His calm acceptance of the brothers' habit was expected, he often gambled, himself.

“We were seeing if you and the werewolf pony were involved.” Vilkas was more subtle about his meaning, though it wasn't disguised to any in the room. “Don't try to deny it, the two of you have practically switched scents.”

“Wait...” Applejack was struck by an odd thought, a realization of sorts. While the farmer had experienced a gut feeling about the Circle members, it was now coming into the light. “If ya can smell Glade an' Reman on each other,” a red tinge began coating the orange pony's cheeks, “Don' that mean th' rest o' y'all are-?”

“Correct, little pony, every member of the Circle is a werewolf, even myself.” Kodlak answered before anyone else could, though it was odd that he would share the information with outsiders, perhaps being friends of Reman excepted the ponies from distrust.

“What happens if one of you gets fleas?” Rainbow had spoken before she knew the meaning of her own words. The six lycans in the room looked at her, the Element's question might have offended them.

“We don't get parasites.” Skjor spoke as though it was the absolute truth, and, in a way, it was. The one-eyed Nord still had his permanent scowl, but he was easing himself around the colorful equines. The mention of illness and disease seemed to spark a memory in a certain pony.

“OH! OH! I have a question!” Pinkie waved a hoof through the air, like a filly in school trying to get her teacher's attention. Despite the humans looking at her, giving her clearance to speak, the Element of Laughter still shook her hoof around. Understanding what was happening, Reman tapped Kodlak's shoulder, and gestured that he knew what to do.

“Yes, Pinkie?” The pink party pony needed an instruction manual for times like this, but at least she was easy to get used to. At Reman acknowledgment, the Element ceased her motions, though Pinkie appeared confused after a few moments.

“I forgot...” Pinkamena Diane Pie wasn't prone to lapses in memory, quite the opposite, but she knew that the eldest lycan may take offense to any questions about human longevity. Beisdes, a little, white lie never hurt anypony, right?

“I just realized that we never got your names, beside the Princess, of course.” Vilkas wasn't concerned about their names, the man really couldn't care less, but formality demanded proper introductions.

“I'm Pinkie Pie!” The two-toned ball of pink appeared over Vilkas' shoulder, as though she had been there the entire time. “Number One Party Pony of Ponyville!”

“Mah name's Applejack.” The orange pony tipped her hat to the humans across the table. It struck as odd that the two groups hadn't been introduced earlier, but she dismissed the strange notion. “Mah family owns Sweet Apple Acres, best apple ya ever had.”

“I'm Rainbow Dash, fastest flier in all of Equestria.” The cyan pony was slightly disappointed that the earlier disagreement hadn't come to blows. But, at least things would be easier for any future negotiations. Dash put her hoof around the pony next to her, providing her introduction. “This is Fluttershy, she's kinda uncomfortable around new ponies.”

“My name is Rarity, the most talented seamstress and fashion designer in Ponyville.” The alabaster unicorn bounced her curled mane, all in all, it made her appear more elegant and refined. “Though, some ponies would say that I’m the very best in Equestria.”

“And I'm Twilight Sparkle, personal student of Princess Celestia.” The Element of Magic didn't wish to disclose anything other than her name and occupation. She didn't think any of the Nords would enjoy learning her place as an Element of Harmony.

“I immediately regret asking for introductions.” Vilkas looked like someone had passed him some rotten fish. The lycan though the names were childish and far too feminine to demand respect. However, at a time like this, Vilkas could turn to one of his fellow werewolves. “Please tell me that you have a name worth knowing.”

“I'm Summer Glade, Equestria's first lycan.” The mare wore a sweet, friendly smile as she spoke. Reman, knowing the equine werewolf, wisely scooted his chair back a few inches, giving her a clear shot. In a flash, Glade launched Pinkies banana cream counter-aggression device, hitting Vilkas directly in the face, and spraying pie-filling everywhere. Still wearing that same sweet smile, the pegasus finished her introduction.

“And I'm the pony you just pissed off.”

Horses in a Horse-Drawn Carriage

“Well... that could have gone better.” The events of the previous night were still fresh in everypony's minds. The pie incident had been diffused when Reman, Skjor, and Kodlak started laughing at Vilkas' plight. Right now, the party was enjoying the predawn darkness, keeping good on the Harbinger's word that they would be out of the city before sunrise.

“You're telling me.” Reman was giving dirty looks to anyone that dared come near the group. Really, no one was outside right now, but the Imperial was building a healthy amount of fear and respect with the local guards. For the ponies, of course, the Imperial didn't need any more respect from the city's protectors. “This is the second time I've been forced from a town under cover of darkness.”

“Come on, Vilkas had it coming.” Glade was taking her new freedom well, currently, the lycan pegasus was hovering as high as Reman's shoulder.

“While I'm not one for violence, he was being rather rude.” Rarity made a point, the Nord had crossed a certain line when he insulted the ponies' names.

“I'm not disagreeing with you, but there were other ways to handle things.” Princess Luna was nocturnal by nature, but the daytime travel had skewed her internal clock. With about two hours until dawn, she was not a happy alicorn. Having nothing else to do, the royal pony pulled out her map, her excellent eyesight allowed her to read it with ease. “Where should we head, next?”

“My current home is likely the best option, it'd give us a chance to resupply.” Reman assumed that Luna was asking him, the Imperial was the only member of the group with any knowledge of Skyrim, so he was the only option. “Let me show you where it is.” The lycan held out his hand, and received the party's only map. Using a bit of charcoal, the man made a small, but obvious, mark in a small inlet near the Pale-Winterhold border. “It'll take week to get there, but it open's up the options of Dawnstar and Winterhold.”

“Why'd you mark the map?” Glade inched closer to Reman, reading over his shoulder. The lycan pegasus gave her forebear a quizzical look, obviously curious about something. “Aren't you coming with us?”

“Of course, just covering everything.” In truth, the Imperial had a feeling brewing in his gut, a sixth sense that he'd developed over the years. It wasn't a guess, or anything like that, Reman knew something was going to go down today. “If, for any reason, we get separated, you eight should keep going.”

“Expectin' trouble?” Applejack understood that something was eating at the Imperial, being the Element of Honesty granted her that ability, she knew he was keeping a few fears to himself.

“Only every day.” Reman answered in his usual way, trademark grin on his face and bravado in his voice. Things settled after that, the mares seemed satisfied that nothing was wrong the mercenary that they had inadvertently hired. In fact, it wasn't until the group was about to exit Whiterun that the Imperial remembered that he was forgetting something important. Reman almost slapped himself when he realized the only loose end that remained.

“Wait by the stables, I'll be there in a few minutes.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

The Bannered Mare wasn't the ideal bunkhouse, but the beds were warm and the drinks were cold, perfect for giving travelers the respite they needed. Lynette was bunked in the attic, a tiny alcove that was barely bigger than an average closet, but it was cheap enough for her to afford. The inn needed better security, it was too easy for Reman to find his way to the Breton's room. The Imperial felt a slight hint of nostalgia at seeing the woman curled in her sleep, but it wasn't the time for thinking about the past.

“Lynette, wake up.” Reman recalled the Breton being a light sleeper, but she didn't stir in the slightest. Then again, waking at this hour was difficult for most people, so the Imperial had to switch methods. If speaking wouldn't work, shaking should do nicely. Placing his hand on both of Lynette's shoulders, Reman pulled back slightly, but was prevented from shoving forward. In a flurry of movement, the blanket was tossed aside, and a shiny piece of metal sped towards the Imperial's throat.

“Bandit trying to sneak up on me!” Lynette was whispering loudly, before she realized where she was, and who she was trying to kill. The Breton tried to pull the knife away, but Reman's hand was locked firmly around her wrist, a perfect counter for the woman's instinctive retaliation to contact. “Well, how about that?”

“Good morning, Lynette.” The Imperial had a smile on his face, there was something he saw that was very enjoyable to look at. There were few things that could brighten one's day like what was on display.

“Reman, my eyes are up here.” The Breton covered herself with her arm, her clothing was currently out of her reach. Lynette wasn't really concerned about her lack of attire, most people in High Rock slept naked, the body was seen as a work of art.

“Hey, they stared at me first.” The Imperial liked to joke around, but he rarely bothered someone exclusively for that purpose. Lynette knew the man wasn't one to ask for things, so if he was here this early it must be important. “How are you doing, being out of the Silver Hand and all?”

“I wish you would have let me sleep more.” Lynette moved her arm to stretch, re-exposing herself. Quickly catching herself, the Breton replaced the limb and shot Reman a dirty look. “You better have a good reason for waking me up.”

With a dismissing gesture, the lycan tossed the woman her blouse, and motioned for her to make room for him to sit. The Breton quickly moved over, before putting on the oversized shirt. Reman took a seat on the bed, which was barely more than wooden planks covered by a few furs, hardly comfortable. But, there wasn't time to complain to the management.

“I assume you didn't come here just to see me.” Lynette punctuated her sentence with a yawn, stretching her back once more. Wanting nothing more than to sleep, the woman rested her head on the Imperial's shoulder.

“You're right about that, I actually have something for you.” While Reman spoke, Lynette made good use of the armor's missing pauldron, the exposed leather made for a decent pillow. The woman wrapped her arms around the lycan's, she was still half-asleep and couldn't bothered with her own actions. “Why are you doing that?”

“Your shoulder's comfy.” In no time at all, Lynette Jemane drifted back to the world of dreams, completely forgetting about why Reman needed her. Well, the Imperial couldn't really blame her, she had likely only gotten a few hours of sleep the previous night, and Bretons had a weaker constitution than other humans. With nothing else to do, Reman laid her head on her pillow and covered her with a blanket.

Resolving to finish what he came to do, the lycan set a sealed envelope on top of Lynette's gear, and left to join the ponies at the stables.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Remember when I said the journey to my home would take a week?” Reman addressed Luna in the light of dawn.

“Of course, I do.” The Princess was wide awake, though that could hardly be said. Luna cocked her head to the side, angling one of her ears to better hear the Imperial. Her eyes, however, were busy watching the horses currently stabled outside of Whiterun. “Change of plans?”

“My estimate was if we were walking.” Reman pointed over his shoulder, at a small group of wagons and roofed carriages. “I don't know about you, but I think we should take one of those to Dawnstar, and go from there.”

“I would certainly make the trip easier.” Luna was tired of walking everywhere, and the dragon paranoia kept her and the group's pegasi grounded. Taking the carriage would cut the travel time in half. “If you'll pay the driver, I'll get the others.”

“Right, I'm on it.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Uriel wasn't the brightest man in his family, but he was easily the most physically imposing. The young captain was gazing at Whiterun through a telescope, keeping an eye on every man and woman to leave the city. While the Imperial wasn't looking for any particular person, he had a gut feeling that something big was brewing over the horizon. This surveillance was a small comfort in his situation, being so far from the warmth of Cyrodiil, the safety of home.

Some say that twins share a connection that can't be broken by distance, a telepathy of sorts. Right now, that sixth sense was telling Uriel that his brother was nearby, somewhere in Whiterun Hold. If it could be trusted, then this was the closest the man had been to his older brother in years. It had been a tough time, when Reman disappeared, Cassius had caught the pox and died a month earlier. After the attack on the Jemane family, their mother had just... shut down. She didn't eat for a week, didn't speak for months, just silence. But, now was the time to rectify that, Uriel could bring Reman home.

If he tried to leave the Hold by road, the Seekers would find him.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Five flawless amethysts later, the diplomatic party was loaded into a carriage and off to Dawnstar. Reman had payed for the very best, pulled by a duo of workhorses. That had been something that the Imperial didn't want to explain, he promised to reveal his secrets later. Regardless of the possible slave labor, the carriage was luxurious, definitely the sort a noble would use to cross a country. Even if the ride was bumpy like nopony's business, it was relaxing, a chance to rest one's sore hooves.

Though, all that mattered to Glade was the fact that Reman had another scent on him.

No One Likes Police Checkpoints

Before you start, I just need to clear something up. I like to think that the educated citizens of the Empire know at least two languages. Those being the native language of their home country, and Imperial Common, a language spoken throughout the Empire and reserved for formal meeting and the like.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Contrary to popular belief, the roads of Skyrim were pretty safe for wagons and the like. That being said, the nine travelers had all ready formulated a plan of action in the event of emergencies. If the carriage was attacked or searched, Twilight and Luna would cast an invisibilty spell over the ponies, and allow Reman to kill or converse with whoever had an interest on the vehicle. Planning ahead was good, given the Imperial roadblock up ahead.

This might not end so well, and they had come too far to turn around, the border to the Pale was just over the next hill. Dealing with some Legionnaires would be a good excuse to stretch one's legs, after spending the last sixteen hours in a carriage. Reman would try to avoid killing anyone on his side of things, but they might not give him any choice in the matter. The lycan tapped two fingers on his seat, the signal for Luna and Twilight to cloak the other mares. None to soon, either, as the carriage pulled to a stop about four yards from the blockade.

“Who is in the cab, sir?” The muffled voice of a Legionnaire, probably a fellow native of Cyrodiil, addressed the driver. Luckily, he had been payed to lie his ass off if questioned.

“Just an Imperial boy, headin' up to Dawnstar for somethin'.” Reman didn't know the driver's name, but he deserved credit for sticking to his word. Footsteps approached the carriage, it seemed they were going to search and question the lycan, regardless of the testimony. A knock on the door commanded Reman to exit and make himself known.

“Afternoon, brother.” The Imperial wasn't actually related to the man, but it was a courtesy to address one's kinsmen as such. The Legionnaire seemed at ease, glad that someone seemed compliant with the interrogation. “Something wrong?”

“Just a formality, keeping Ulfric's boys on the run.” The blonde man spoke Cyrodilic fluently, and with an astute Anvil accent. Judging by the Legionnaire's uniform, he was in charge of this squad, and spoke his native tongue to keeo his subordinates from knowing what he said. “Another day in our glorious Legion, eh?”

“Aye, have to keep the Stormcloaks on their toes.” The two men laughed together, happy to find someone else from their homeland in this backwater area. “Running the roadblocks to find couriers?”

“Any idea what those two are sayin'?” The driver was asking one of the Legionnaires, a Bosmer with a bow. In response, the diminutive elf shrugged, he didn't speak Cyrodilic, and he certainly wasn't one for conversation.

“Sir, we still need to test them.” Why on Nirn did they have a cleric with them? The aged Nord was a priest of Stendarr, but not a Vigilant. Either way, the man was both a religious leader and warrior, the sort that was regularly found in the Legion's ranks.

“Test?” Reman and the driver asked the simple question in unison, both confused at the possible meanings. It could be testing for citizenship, most of the Empire's history was common knowledge, and only monks knew the obscure bits.

“Nothing painful, I assure you.” The blonde Imperial seemed confident in this, that probably counted for something. “As I'm sure you know, there's been an increase in vampire sightings and attacks, General Tullius has bolstered every war camp with vampire hunters, gave us a way to test for any sort of taint in someone's system.”

“I heard they got a wereboar in the Reach, tried sneakin' over to High Rock.” A Nord with a very large beard and the stench of alcohol on his breath practically shouted at Reman, even though only a few feet separated them.

“Just put a white cloth over your arm, we pour a special mixture over it, and it gives the results.” The monk pulled two squares of alabaster silk from a pouch on his hip, seeing the shimmering fabric, the reasoning behind the method was made clear. White silk had special, some would say magical, properties when exposed to any sort Daedric influence. With Molag Bal being the father of vampires, it only made sense to use silk to find them. “With respect, I must ask for both of you to submit to testing.”

“I'll go first, we'll get on sooner.” The driver hopped from his perch, and slowly made his way over to the priest, Reman almost sighed in relief. The lycan was going to suggest the same thing, if only to protect the ponies that were hiding inside the carriage.

“Of course, sir, just hold out your arm.” The aged monk placed the silk square over the outstretched limb, nothing out of the ordinary just yet. Next, a bottle was produced from some pouch on the old Nord's belt, and was swiftly uncorked. The mixture burned Reman's nose, even at that distance, the stuff definitely wasn't friendly for werewolves. The tonic was poured over the silk-covered arm, the soft cloth clung as wet fabric should.

Nothing happened, not a single thing that shouldn't be expected, just... moistened silk.

“That's certainly a relief to see.” With a wave of a hand, the clergyman dismissed the driver. The younger Nord quickly returned to the carriage, readying the horses for the next leg of the journey. Turning to the Imperial, the monk smiled. “Strong stuff, isn't it?”

“Yeah, what's in it?” Reman made a show of fanned his hand over his nose, a joking attempt to remove the odor from the air. If that stuff cold tell the soldiers about his lycanthropy, he might as well have fun with it.

“The standard stuff, you know, thing like hemlock, wolfsbane, nightshade.” The old man replaced the empty vessel, pulled out a fresh bottle in turn. “Pretty much just poison, but harmless if it touches your skin.” The cultist of Stendarr stared at the vial in his hand, swishing its contents merely to see them swirl in the semitransparent container. Without warning, he stopped, and gazed at the young lycan. “You don't have any cuts on your arms, do you?”

“A few, but we can use the inside, instead.” Reman's armor corroborated the story, its dented and pockmarked surface told a tale of recent battle. “Anything to get to Dawnstar faster, right?”

“If you'll just hold out your arm.” The young Imperial was about to comply, before the priest stopped him. “You should take off the armor, first.”

“Right, be back in a moment.” With a small bow, the lycan walked back to the carriage, and began to shed his steel shell. First the gauntlets, then the single pauldron, and finally the cuirass itself. Each piece was safely deposited inside the carriage, taking care to avoid the cloaked ponies that were kept waiting within.

“Somethin' messed you up, boy.” A soldier pointed out Reman's many scars, like a road map to Cyrodiil etched across a pale canvas. “Mess with a sabercat?”

“Nah, just had a run-in with a Nord woman in the Bannered Mare.” Laughter spread though the men, though the women of the blockade glared daggers at the young Imperial.

“Isn't that what I said?” Everyone laughed harder at that one, even the priest was happy with the break from stress, even if it was temporary. One takes every opportunity to relax that comes along, especially during a duty as dull as this.

“Jokes aside, we've kept you long enough.” The priest motioned Reman to come closer, the time for his test had arrived. The two men were completely at ease at the moment, even the Legionnaires were calmly going about their duties. “Same procedure, just hold out your arm and I'll do the rest.”

The young Imperial extended his sword arm, it had the fewest injuries, underside facing skyward. As the silk square was placed over the limb, Reman's heart raced, when the bottle was uncorked, his nose burned and his throat ran dry. But when the tonic was poured over the cloth, the most spectacular thing happened. Nothing, it looked just like the Driver's square, like wet silk.

At first.

Three seconds after the fluid hit the fabric, the initial drop areas blackened, revealing the remaining influence of Hircine. Talos' intervention had only altered the curse, but the majority was still the Huntsman's own creation. The dark stain extended and deepened, turning the once virginal silk a sinful black.

“But, you-” The priest was silenced by a swift kick in the chest, sending the old man onto his back. Reman still had the same smile on his face, even as he spoke.

“Looked so normal? Yeah, werewolves and vampires are good at blending into society, barring the occasional mishap.” The smile turned predatory as the soldiers drew their weapon's and strung their bows. Much to the surprise of the Legionnaires, the lycan didn't unsheathe his sword, neither hand made a move for it. The blonde officer from before stepped forward, his hand up, with his own blade clutched in the other, as though he meant peace.

“We are under orders to take anyone alive for interrogation, we promise that you won't be tortured.” Despite what some claimed, Reman knew for a fact that the Legion used all sorts of physical and mental anguish to extract information from its captives. But that only applied to highly valued targets, someone like him didn't rate a second thought. At most, all he would be subjected to was questioning, followed by a military trial in Solitude, and then he'd be sent to a prison in Cyrodiil. “Just come quietly, no one has to be hurt.”

“I won't hurt anyone, but I'm not coming without making a lot of noise.” The Imperial hunched his back as the transformation set in. It was faster than before, painless, no bloodlust. Where bone once cracked and grew, they now exploded in size, muscle expanding within seconds. A muzzle quickly extended from his skull. Dropping on all fours, the fully shifted werewolf howled into the evening air.

The horses bolted, taking everything that was attached to them for a wild ride. The ponies safe and secure, too far gone for the Legionnaires to catch them, Reman's job was done. Putting his clawed hand above his head, the Imperial began to shift back to his normal self. The soldiers were astonished that he kept true to his word, but the number of readied arrows revealed the their true expectation. The small barrage wouldn't have killed him, but it was the thought that mattered. Faster than he could blink, Reman was shackled in chains, and loaded onto a wagon set for Solitude.

Might as well enjoy the ride, he was going to visit Solitude eventually, anyway.

Besides, all good adventures start in a prison cell.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

It had taken Applejack and Rainbow Dash to keep Glade from rushing out to help Reman when he transformed. It wouldn't have helped their situation one bit, even if she could have gotten to him. Reman's howl had startled the horses, and sent them all on a very bumpy ride.

“He did it so we could get away.” The realization was voiced by Pinkie, who was still a little shaken from the entire ordeal. The party pony's mane was slightly deflated, she obviously wasn't in the happiest of moods. “Reman put himself in danger to save us.”

“He probably knew something was going to happen before we left Whiterun.” Glade sulked into the seat, head resting on the Imperial's breastplate. “Might be the reason he marked his home in the map.”

“I'm sure he'll be fine.” Luna didn't sound as certain as she wanted to, but she held a certain knowledge for his abilities. “He's gotten himself out of worse situations.”

“I bet he all ready has a plan to meet up with us.” Fluttershy may not have been the most outspoken mare in Equestria, but she tried to help her friends whenever she could. Right now, she was doing her best to help Summer Glade stay under control. The lycan pegasus might act tough, but everypony knew she had a soft spot for the Imperial.

“We might as well keep going, then.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Waking up in strange place would worry most women. Lynette Jemane wasn't most women. She had grown accustomed to traveling, her former employers had her running around Skyrim and High Rock all the time. The bedraggled Breton had woken up in a number of strange places, but she'd never woken up wearing more than when she went to bed. That was before she remembered the previous night, though it was technically very early in the morning.

Reman had come, tried to ask for something, and left after the Breton had closed her eyes. At least he left a note on Lynette's gear before leaving, though it wasn't much of a note. The woman recalled how cryptic any message that wasn't written as a letter could be when her ex wrote them. It was just a map of Haafingar and Hjaalmarch, with a number of dots scattered across it. Their meaning was written below, and in classic Reman fashion.

I hide things here, they're buried, take as much gold as you want. Come to Solitude, I may be in jail when you arrive, so bring five thousand septims with you to pay any fines I may have. I'm not in big trouble, probably, but it's better to be safe.

I think it's time for something that I've put off for far too long.

He didn't sign it, didn't say what he was doing. The Imperial hadn't needed to, he'd given Lynette all the information she needed to draw her own answers. The Breton woman giggled at first, then the possibilities of just how wrong this could go entered her mind.

The only reason she really worried was the little thing Reman had drawn on the letter's bottom margin.

The Roundabout Route

When Reman had been comfortable walking around Ponyville in only a pair of pants, nopony really thought anything about it. Seeing and feeling the weather of the Pale, however, proved to be an enlightening experience. Chilling ice and snow flew on freezing wind, this Hold was far from Whiterun, and too inhospitable for anypony to really live there, right?

“Why does 'e live all th' way out here?” Applejack was shivering, trying to fight against the unholy temperatures. Pinkie and the group's unicorns were suffering similar grievances, though the winged members were more suited for this environment.

“There must be something he likes about the storehouse.” Luna's horn sparked as she readied her spell, it was a simple bubble to keep the wind away from the mares.

“How much farther?” Glade was feeling antsy, just walking through the snow, so cold and exposed. Instinct commanded the lycan mare to find shelter, a warm hideout with plenty of food and water. Odd, because she only needed heat right now, there wasn't a need for an overabundance of supplies.

“We left Dawnstar before sunrise, and we've been going nonstop, so maybe another hour.” Dash was in charge of the map, though nopony knew why. Well, at least she had a sense of direction, and hadn't steered the group into trouble yet, so that counted for something. “Aren't there supposed to be cliffs near here?”

“Have you gotten us lost in this forsaken snowstorm?” That was one of Rarity's few moments of true anger at one of her friends. The fashionable unicorn did not want to be out in the weather, the snow made the ground slippery, and any puddles were completely frozen. “How do you even know where to go anymore?”

“We jus' needed t' follow th' beach.” Applejack had a point, in fact, they had been doing just that. The coastal winds had forced them inland, in search of some brace against them, but the attempt had only succeeded in getting the mares in deeper trouble. “We still can, if we find it again.”

“No, I totally know where we're going.” Dash closed her eyes and smirked in confidence, the cyan pony was certain that she could lead them to Reman's home. Taking another step forward, the pegasus' hoof broke though the ground, revealing her error in judgment. The Element of Loyalty had almost walked her friends off a cliff.

“Way to go, Dashie, you found it!” Pinkie jumped in the air, clearly overjoyed at her friend's success in the search. Upon noticing the polychromatic mare's confusion, the party pony bid another Element to use her talents. Pointing with a hoof, the pink bundle of sugar gave her order. “Twilight, can you throw a glowing ball down there?”

“Sure, just give me a second.” With a bright flash, the Element of Magic launched a flare into the chasm, illuminating the steep walls of the fjord. Indeed, this place seemed to match the map's illustration, right down to the water at the bottom. The was a small shack at the inlet's end, and a small boat launch at its mouth.

“That house might be it.” Fluttershy's naturally small voice was almost unheard over the wind, but she was nevertheless understood. The yellow pegasus looked over the cliff face in apprehension. “But, how do we get down?”

“Allow me, you girls have done enough for today.” Luna's horn sparked, enveloping the eight mares in a dark blue glow. In an instant, they found themselves floating to the chasm's bottom, simple levitation had been used to its best. The water, upon further inspection, had been frozen, allowing the ponies to stand on the thick ice. Without hesitation, Summer Glade launched herself at the shack, eager to escape the biting cold.

Her hopes were all for naught.

The other ponies arrived quickly, only to find the lycan pegasus standing just inside the old shack. The mares gasped at what they saw within, Fluttershy and Pinkie had to avert their eyes from the grisly scene. A corpse was slumped over the table, a knife lodged firmly in the cadaver’s back. The icicles growing on the body suggested that he had been dead for quite some time. If the large smears over the table, and the liberal coat of blood over the corpse's arms were any indicator, he hadn't died quickly, either.

“Why would Reman send us here?” Rarity was doing her best to avoid touching anything in the rundown building, but her desire for the miniscule shelter it provided outweighed her revulsion. “You don't think he killed this man, do you?”

“No, Reman wouldn't attack someone that wasn't armed, and definitely not from behind.” Glade had recovered from the sight rather quickly, nothing could be done for the dead man, so why grieve over someone she never knew? “Maybe there's a clue here, something Reman planted so we would know where to find him.”

“Check the room for anything out of the ordinary, anything that looks new or interesting.” Luna didn't want to be inside that shack any more than anypony else, but sacrifices had to be made. The alicorn understood the Imperial's need for secrecy, a man like him must have enemies, after all. But sending them on this roundabout route seemed a bit... excessive, especially when it sent them into the same area with a corpse that may have been there for months. “Wait, what if Reman wanted us here so we could find his home the same way he did?”

“What do you mean?” Twilight was looking at the sparse bookshelf, just something to keep her eyes away from the table, and maybe a book that had been left as a clue. “Aren't ruins sort of secret?”

“I dunno, Twi, half of Daring Doo's adventures start when she hears a rumor about an artifact, maybe that how Reman found wherever he lives.” Dash had somehow managed to make sense, and simultaneously fail to provide logical reasons for her train of thought. “Maybe this guy knew something, and somepony came after him for it.”

“While both of you raise excellent points, I think I found what we needed to look for.” Glade was reading something on the table, hoofwritten by somepony, it might have been the dead man's journal. Twilight and Luna read over the final entries, peaking over the lycan's shoulders.

Twenty-fourth of Last Seed, 4E 199

Finally built this dump, never cared much for carpentry, but it came in handy for once. I'll never get why the Sinod didn't just come out here themselves, but they're paying me to find what they want. Why would an Elder Scroll be all the way out here, in this frozen hellhole? Damn Scrolls never made sense, but everything we need to know is written on them, so I guess things just have a way of getting complicated.

First of New Life, 4E 200

Happy New Life Day to me. Only found one lead, from some crazy old man in an ice cave, Septimus or something. Kept speaking in riddles and mentioning Tower Mzark, or things on that line, and that there was an Elder Scroll inside, even a way to read the thing without going blind. Bunch of crazy bullshit if you ask me, but it's all I've gotten so far.

Tenth of Mid-Year, 4E 200

Damn skeevers have ransacked my food supply, again, maybe I should get a dog. Or a bear. But never mind that, I have wonderful news: Blackreach and Tower Mzark exist! I regret not getting those items from Septimus when I had the chance, the fool I was! Luckily, I've managed to find a couple of gentlemen that have a key to the ancient lifts into the city: a Breton mage and an Imperial spellsword.

We're bedding down in this dump for the night, then we'll head out to their excavation site. It's on a small island, on a frozen-over lake that hasn't melted in centuries, at the very least. Both of them are fairly knowledgeable about the long-dead elves, and there lies my current problem. Either one could replace me in the Sinod, take away my life's work, my future riches and fame. There's no way that I'll let either of them live, the glory and gold are mine, dammit!

They won't know wha

“Serves him right for trying to stab Reman in the back.” That was Glade's honest opinion on the matter, whichever one of the two knifed the man, he deserved a award.

“Now Ah wouldn't go that far.” Applejack valued the sanctity of life, even the life of someone who would kill for money. No one deserved to die alone, stabbed to a table in their own home.

“Well, girls, I think we have an island to find.”

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