Prologue: Zeldava Ellis
Part 1:
The Craglorn Syndicate Sends Their Regards
In which Zeldava learns that its a really fucking stupid idea to kill a bunch of pirates and take their hideout.
<Private Knowledge. Your character would not know this unless they were directly involved or have been told it IC.>
Excerpt from Zeldava Ellis’ Journal.
A lot of days start really great, and end shit. Occasionally, a few days start shit and end great. The really rare, really fucked days start shit and end worse. But hey, I guess it’s cool that my life is rare, I guess?
I’m not the kind of person who gets satisfaction out of cleaning. But when Aestaril and Valtire insist on bringing a caterer by to potentially start staffing the Tavern and get it truly up and running, not even I’m lazy enough to leave it in the state it was in. So to say I was in a bad mood when the Tavern’s front door opened would be an understatement.
”You three are fucking early,” I snapped, hurriedly tossing the dust rag into the fire pit to hide any notion that I might be the kind of person who dusts countertops.
”Zeldava Ellis?”
The voice that greeted me from the doorway wasn’t familiar. It was harsh, fitting of the six-foot Redguard woman that had stepped through the door. She carried a large hammer on her back, and her face was exactly as scarred as I expected for someone stupid enough to carry a great-hammer into combat. Her strappy, medium armor did little to hide her muscles, or did exactly what she wanted it to do and showed them off. Either way, she was either utterly shit at knowing how to not be intimidating, or intentionally trying to scare people.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the pillar near the door. “Who the fuck’s asking?”
You can tell a lot about a person from how they answer that question. The smart ones drop the intimidating act and answer the question. The dumb ones keep up the intimidating act and say something that’s going to get them killed.
The terrifying ones draw their weapon and charge.
For an idiot with a hammer, she was fast, the weapon screaming through the air and aimed squarely at my head. Thankfully, I knew how to fall quickly, and landed on the ground in a roll as the hammer smashed into the pillar with a resounding thud. She flashed me a maniacal smile, her eyes alight with violence, and charged again. I reached for my great-sword in its scabbard on my back, and was promptly reminded of why the fuck I hate cleaning.
My great-sword stared longingly at me from where I’d left it leaning against the bar counter as the woman’s hammer slammed into my side. I spat blood as her blow slammed me through one of the couches.
”The Craglorn Syndicate sends their regards.” Her voice greeted me as the world spun.
I’d love to say I got up quickly, but for as stupid as it is to bring a blunt fucking weapon to a sword-fight, it did a damn good job of causing my consciousness to fade. By the time the dots connected that she was barking orders to some minions who had stalked in after her, one of them had already slung my sword across their back. Another, a thin looking Breton man, was reaching for me with manacles.
I wish I could tell you I’d done something smart, like punching the guy, grabbing his dagger and stabbing him, or even just letting him slap manacles on me. But he was activating my fight or flight, and she was hungry.
He screamed as I raked claws across his face, his blood spattering my cheek. He was quick with a dagger, stabbing me in the stomach as I snarled at him, but that was the last choice he ever made. What little will I had to fight her off died as his blade punctured my stomach. She did the rest.
By the time I woke, they were dead, and I was lying in the dirt outside the Tavern. The Redguard was half devoured, her face missing as she decomposed in front of me. Two of her compatriots were splattered against the walls outside of the Tavern, like the wolf thrown them through a door and then smashed them against the floor with said door until it was in splinters at their feet. The last two of her minions were barely in sight, one missing his rib cage, the other, the Breton, lay on the stairs, his guts at his feet.
It took a few hours to stoke the fire-pit behind the Tavern and start burning the bodies. Everything was honestly pretty blurry. I’d lost a lot of blood. She hadn’t been particularly careful when fighting, and my body bore the stab wounds to prove it.
So it made sense that when Aestaril, Valtire, and the caterer they’d hired showed up, they didn’t look particularly thrilled to see me. I realized slowly they’d followed a blood trail to find me behind the Tavern. I’m at least ninety percent positive I said something to them about pirates attacking me. I’m at least seventy percent positive that Valtire and the caterer had wandered off at some point to find my bag.
I’m 100% positive I was dying of blood loss.
Which would probably explain why the next real thing I remember was guzzling three potions and casting healing rituals like I knew what the fuck I was doing.
”Maybe we should go somewhere else?” Valtire suggested. “Somewhere not under threat of pirate attacks?”
I’m glad Valtire was thinking straight. That’s more than I could manage. I’m glad I remembered to search that Redguard before we left, grabbing some papers from her coat pocket.
Well, and the smell of her body as I tossed her onto the fire. I’m glad I remembered that too.
Part 2:
Dumb Ideas is My Middle Name
Excerpt from Zeldava Ellis’ Journal.
It sill felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. It takes a lot to shake me these days, to make the tips of my fingers go numb from shock and drive an icicle stake into my gut.
Turns out seeing a wanted poster of myself qualifies as “a lot.”
The papers I’d found on the Redguard woman were vague, but told me enough to know how fucked I was if I didn’t do something. One was a map of the tavern, another the aforementioned wanted poster, and the last a letter from the Craglorn Syndicate. I didn’t know much about them, but I knew they wanted me dead or captured, I knew the Tavern I’d taken from them was once a hub for their smuggling, and that they hailed from somewhere called the Nexus.
Luckily, I knew one other thing about the Syndicate: that I’d killed some of them before, in Craglorn, on contracts for the Dragonstar guard. One of those contracts had led to rescuing a young Redguard mage, a woman named Faidia. And I happened to know where she was.
The sound of Aestaril and Valtire’s footsteps on the path into Dragonstar pulled my thoughts from the papers. I was honestly surprised they’d come with me, though I was more surprised that Bakes-with-Cinnamon, the caterer, was still following us. For a person who claimed to be a simple chef, he was certainly taking a lot of risk following someone like me around. The thought crossed my mind that none of them may have realized what I was planning to do, but I ignored it for now. I could cross that bridge when I’d found Faidia.
The excerpt jumps ahead several hours.
It seemed much more ominous, now that I was standing outside it. My hand instinctively tightened on the dagger at my hip as I stared up at the massive stone doors that marked the entrance to the Nexus. Faidia had known where it was, led us right to it, and given us a way in. Part of me hoped Aestaril’s spell would fail, that Valtire would wander back out of the small crack in the wall Faidia had shown him, and that we wouldn’t be able to get in. I could ignore this, move somewhere more discreet, and not put anyone else in danger. The rest of me knew where this had to end. The Syndicate wouldn’t stop hunting me until they were dead. And if I’m being honest…
She was hungry.
The large doors creaked open slowly, Valtire’s masked face popping around the corner, his hand motioning us inside. I sucked in one last lungful of outdoor air and stepped inside the Nexus.
My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, but she didn’t wait. She called out the hearts beating off to my left as they whispered about arcane traps for dangerous monsters, the laughter and smell of men and mer celebrating something in the room just off the left of the path in front of us, and drew my attention to the three guards walking away from us, down the path and towards a fountain. As the rest of the cavern drifted in through my vision and I took in the ruined stonework all around us, my hands were already knocking an arrow to my bow.
In a world where I’d come here alone, I wouldn’t have bothered with arrows. But Valtire and Bakes didn’t know what I was, and I planned on keeping it that way.
”You guys should go left, deal with those summoners.” I hissed my words through clenched teeth, hoping the rest of them would take the hint and leave me alone to get to work.
”You’re not going to do this alone,” Valtire said quietly, as he drew his sword.
On the one hand, it was nice to know he cared. On the other hand, fuck Valtire.
My arrow found its mark in the back of the first guard’s head. Bakes, surprisingly fast and strong with his shovel, decapitated the second, and Aestaril made short work of the third. There were seven in the tavern, celebrating something. I’m sure they said and did things that would make me regret murdering them, but honestly, it was taking every ounce of my concentration to keep her from breaking loose and devouring everyone in the room, my companions included.
So by the time I stumbled my way out of the tavern, bleeding slightly from the fight, out of magicka from pushing my rituals too far, I knew I was fucked. And it really sunk in how fucked I was when I saw an Imperial mage strolling up like he owned the place.
”Really wonderful way to introduce yourself, killing my employees. Truly an excellent first impression.” If his elegant robes, gold jewelry, and obsidian inlay staff weren’t enough of a sign, his voice certainly screamed pompous asshole to the entirety of fucking Tamriel. “Perhaps next time you could also kill yourself while you’re at it, since you seem so eager to die. Tell me, before I murder you, what is your name? I’d like my bard to sing songs of your idiocy to everyone who dares cross the Syndicate.”
Oh. So he did own the place.
Fucking. Summoners.
I fucking hate summoners. My breath was ragged as the Argonian Behemoth fell dead at my feet. I couldn’t feel my arm from where its claws had slashed me. Without looking at it, I couldn’t tell if I was holding my greatsword. Somewhere far behind me, Aestaril, Valtire, and Bakes were catching their breath after dealing with the Clannfear he’d sent after them.
And this cocky fucking asshole was just grinning at me as he dug in his robes for more of those stupid runestones.
”Where were we?” I growled. “I think I was about to fucking murder you?”
See, a normal mage has the decency to look tired and frightened when you threaten to cut their head off. But summoners? They just cackle and throw out their next set of minions. Exactly like this dick was doing.
I didn’t see what landed behind me, but I could tell from its scent that it was a Spriggan. And gods, I hoped the other three were up to dealing with it. Because the Daedroth ripping itself free from the portal the summoner had trapped it in was staring at me, baring its claws, and ready to charge.
I’d love to tell you I put up a good fight. But its a Daedroth, so you and I both know that would be bullshit. It grabbed my sword, tossed it aside like it was nothing, and left me reeling as blood poured from the places its claws had connected with my flesh. And I tried. I tried so hard to fight off the red screaming at the edges of my vision.
But like I said, she was hungry.
When finally I fought back control from her, I was in a different room, halfway through devouring the summoner, his entrails coating my tongue. I stumbled out of the vault I’d been in, took one look at Val, Aes, and Bakes, and vomited into the grass. If I’d just killed and eaten a mage, maybe I could live with myself.
But I knew. I knew it was worse than that. Because I remember what it felt like when she’d grabbed the thick stone obelisk and smashed it over the summoner’s head, shattering it to a dozen tiny pieces. The wolf had recoiled in fear when the purple magic ripped dozens of holes in reality and freed hundreds of monsters trapped by the Syndicate. Deep down, I knew I’d just unleashed hell upon Tamriel.
The excerpt skips ahead again, this time by a few days.
I’d tried to tell them to walk away. But Aes, Val, and Bakes wouldn’t listen to me. They wouldn’t let me deal with this on my own, get them out of harms way and only risk my own life.
I… I don’t know what I did to deserve people that gave that much of a shit about me. But they were here to stay, and they offered to help.
I never thought I’d be the kind of person to found my own mercenary company, let alone to do it with people I could call friends, but here we are. I’m writing this from my own desk, inside the Expeditions Branch, finishing it as I prepare dozens of flyers to search for recruits.
The Crimson Silver Company. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?.
