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Little did it matter that day to Hilda what Jonrad said. She just kicked everything in her way and walked out of the tavern in a mix of anger and pain.
"I can’t go back to Skyrim, I am not powerful enough yet." "Jon is safer away from us." "I still don’t have the power to protect you both." "Power is the most important thing right now."
Each word he said was only about "Power" this and "Power" that.
He was obsessed to no end with being powerful, he was in no way going to let anything stop in his way in order to gain this power he always obsessed over.
"You can call it whatever you want but what you are after will cost you more than what you can handle."
She said those words and left.
Around Jonrad were Tyr, Cassia, Glyt and Laaneth.
[A/n: Cassia from Hamrfell chapter. Laaneth from the College.]
"Go after her." Jonrad asked Tyr, Hilda’s brother, and the latter simply nodded before walking out.
Still, the situation was cold and awkward.
How did it reach this?
It started with Jonrad and Glyt operating in Wayrest as rcenaries for a couple of months so far. Jonrad was after a certain Magic To from the Magic Guild of Wayrest and Glyt was led here by chance to bump into Jonrad in a tavern so ti ago.
Using Glyt’s mystic ability, Jonrad learned that the Magic To he is after is hidden deep in the vaults of King Barinya. A hopeless endeavor for the king was known to be selfish and manipulative.
Soti later, Glyt managed to notify his old group to co and visit Wayrest telling them that Jonrad is with him. General Cassia of Cyrodiil and the ex-wife of Tyr agreed to visit, the sa went for Tyr and Laaneth who are friends with Glyt from the Great War. Hilda ca as well to see Jonrad after 7 years.
It was the most awkward of etings for Jonrad and Hilda. He who chose not to return and she who had to give their son to an orphanage in order for them to survive. Aside from them, even the divorced Tyr and Cassia were acting like love birds let alone Glyt and Laaneth.
The conversation happened, the total mood sunk down. Hilda shouted, Jonrad calmly replied, she kicked the door out and he kept drinking alone.
It was a dark period of their lives.
Eight years have passed since they had Jonhild, Eight yet to co until they all reunite but this is a story about Jonrad’s dark tis. While Hilda would spill blood and act like a pirate venting her rage and painting the sea red, Jonrad started to burn everything in his wake.
The King of Ash was a na to be feared during those tis. He would pass by Thalmor envoys and patrols and strike them with his wrath leaving nothing but standing husks, the mont they are touched is the mont they crumble and disintegrate like Ash.
The other day, Glyt saw off Tyr, Cassia, Laaneth and Hilda while Jonrad chose to disappear sowhere only to end up discovered by Glyt watching Hilda as she boarded her ship.
"You should go fix things while you still can." Glyt said.
"I know." Jonrad replied.
"But you won’t?"
"I mustn’t. I am not ready."
Glyt nodded.
"That stinking luck of ours."
"Luck isn’t supposed to be stinking."
"No? We are both Serpent Stars so I guess we aren’t the one to speak about Luck anyway."
Glyt and Jonrad may seem different in many things but they saw eye to eye. Just like Jonhild and Jonrad, Glyt too was born under the sa birth-sign, the Serpent. A Constellation that brings no peace.
Jonrad knew that if he goes back to his son, trouble will follow them wherever they go. Those murderous Clans will know that Jonhild is alive, gang up once again and try to do sothing. The Thalmor won’t sit still either with the Skyrim’s Most Wanted family erging again.
The only way out of this was the way it began, Conflict, and that needs a lot of power to be won.
"Let’s get out of here."
Jonrad turned away with each step he took causing him an ever so painful agony. He would drink himself to death for the whole night until tomorrow after that.
The next day was a day that dragged both Jonrad and Glyt into a confrontation with Fate in the image of an old Breton man from the upper nobility of High Rock. His na is Uther Nere. He invited Glyt and Jonrad but Jonrad bailed out as he was still not okay from the whole drinking thing.
As Glyt approached Uther Nere in his manor, the two of them sat and started conversing about a job that can only be called a suicide mission.
"Co in, traveler. I’m so glad you got my invitation." Uther spoke.
"Thank you, Lord Uther." Glyt said as he surveyed the place with his eyes left and right sensing the presence of many others hiding behind the corners.
"Excuse my guards. Lately, things haven’t been looking up to my business as well as my safety. Too many concerns I may say." Uther explained.
"No need, milord. I hope you find peace of mind in both business and privacy." Glyt said with a tone that carried a bit of mockery.
"Please, help yourself." Uther invited Glyt to a plate of gr.a.p.es and a goblet of wine which the latter didn’t refuse.
The two n were sitting near a fireplace in two large chairs against each other. Glyt could see signs of worry and concern all over Uther’s face and started making preparations on how to press the rich old man for more money.
"I’ve been watching you for so ti, and I think you’re just the person I need." Uther started speaking.
"Oh!" Glyt felt awkward about it as he blew the seeds of the gr.a.p.es into his fist and dumped them on the table, "I don’t appreciate it when my privacy is being violated."
"Excuse my caution, young man, but a man of my position should be very wary of those whom he deals with and this is a job for the best rcenary I can find." Uther replied.
"I understand but just to be clear from now on, I don’t like being supervised and bossed around." Glyt made a serious face as he pointed.
"You have my word of honor." Uther nodded then rembered sothing, "I thought you would be working with a partner; tall, Nord."
"Ah! My partner is having a long break sadly. He had so depressing words from Skyrim."
"Skyrim, yes. You’re from Skyrim as well, right?" Uther asked, trying to point out the resemblance of Glyt’s na and those of Nords.
"? I was born here in High Rock, in Dragonstar. You know the folk there, Bretons mix with Redguards and Nords and even Imperial. We pride ourselves to be the most diversified human community."
"Oh! True. The folk of Dragonstar are unique indeed. No one can tell what race you are without tracing your heritage."
"Indeed."
"It was nice getting introduced." Uther said as he drank, "I am Uther Nere of..."
"The Nere Trading Company, the largest network of traders in the Eastern Kingdoms and a major partner to the Crowns of Hamrfell."
"Ah! So you did so digging." Uther laughed as he didn’t expect less from Glyt who was smiling as well.
The two n seem to have high standards in taking careful steps in their deals which will fit this job royally.
"Let’s get down to business, shall we?" Uther said.
"Let’s hear it."
"I warn you, this task will be bloody, but the cause is just. It concerns an infamous band of assassins known as the Dark Brotherhood...
... The brotherhood is a foul death cult worshiping a living corpse known as the Night Mother...
... So years ago my daughter, the poor misguided girl, murdered her own mother in order to gain their favor...
... She claid to be recruited by the Night Mother’s Listener herself...
... Later, I learned that my daughter too had died pursuing this violent life...
... For years I have sought this Listener, but she is elusive...
... I want you to infiltrate the Brotherhood, find her, and lead to her...
... Together, we will ensure that no other family suffers the sa fate as mine...
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***
The last words Uther Nere said was on how to get into contact with the brotherhood.
"I know one sure way to get the Brotherhood’s attention. Find soone they were planning to assassinate, and kill them first. I would check the inn to see if anyone’s seen anything suspicious. I also know a man was murdered yesterday; try examining his body."
Glyt took those words and the other ones to his friend, Jonrad. The latter heard them while drinking and barely put his mind into them.
"You’re in or what?" Glyt asked.
"I don’t care about a damn bloody brotherhood." Jonrad replied with the stinky breath of a drunken man, "Let’s just go track down the damn Listener the old fashion way."
"Co on, man! You and I know very well how good of a deal this is. Stable funding for months... maybe a year or two. You get to dabble into sothing other than and less dangerous than these Labours of Boethiah you are doing. Who knows? The Gods may smile upon your sorry ass for getting the world of an evil cult."
"Yeah! The Gods." Jonrad mocked Glyt as he was about to drink from his tankard again but Glyt pulled it away.
"Sorry, mate. I need you sober and ."
"F.u.c.k off!" This horse piss can’t get halfway to Mara’s lap let alone Dibella’s bosom." Jonrad scoffed at Glyt’s worries as he started drinking from the bottle.
"Your funeral, my friend." Glyt stood up, "Fine, how about we split up on this. I’ll ask around here in the inn about suspicious activities and you go put your spy skills to good use on that murder scene."
"I’ll finish this and go."
"Also do sothing about the sll, lighten or get laid or whatever. You look like a damn ss."
***
"And did you take his advice?" (Jon)
"More or less." (Jonrad)
"There is no more or less about getting laid." (Jon)
"Well, things escalated one way or the other later that night." (Jonrad)
"F.u.c.k you!" (Jon)
"Wha... Why?" (Jonrad)
"Just saying." (Jon)
Jon tried to console his s.e.x partner of earlier this night, Miranda, by parting her back only to feel a weird texture under her clothing.
"You... haven’t taken out the ropes?" (Jon whispering)
"... And you haven’t changed your leather pants." (Miranda whispering)
The two realized that they put on their clothes in hurry and are now trapped with their kinky uniforms barely hidden. The only thing they could do was to act natural.
***
Glyt approached the bartender readying a pair of gold septims in his palm before passing them on to the indifferent innkeep.
"Good evening."
"What do you want?"
Lining up the tankards after cleaning them, the innkeeper took the money from Glyt.
"I am looking for so rumors for work. Haven’t you seen any suspicious folk lately?"
The silly question made the innkeeper look at Glyt up and down while Jonrad shook his head to the pitiful attempt of fishing out information.
"The last suspicious folk I’ve been seeing lately are a few Wood Elves who haggle as much as Khajiit and a couple of rcenaries lazing around in my inn." The innkeeper said in patience, "You have to be more specific with ’Suspicious’, kid."
Glyt scratched his head realizing how silly it went so he decided to be even sillier.
"If it is more specific, have you heard of anyone who ntions things like Murder, Killing or maybe... Sithis?"
The question completely erased the grin off the innkeeper’s face just as Glyt hoped it would. Still, it was rather replaced with so grim expression.
"Piss off!" The innkeeper tossed back the coins at Glyt, "You and your friend need to get the f.u.c.k out."
"What... Co on, we’re custors here. At least give a lead."
"You ask too many questions." The innkeeper slamd his counter table, "I think it’s ti we taught you what we do to nosy people."
With that, a few buffed up thugs ca from all the corners standing around Glyt. The situation looked threatening and escalating to...
A flying bottle!
***
"A what?" (Alina)
"Not my proudest mont, believe ." (Jonrad)
***
The bottle landed crashing onto the head of one of the goons and the one who threw it was the awkwardly stumbling Jonrad.
"Tavern War! For Skyrim! WOOO!" (Jonrad)
"""HAAA!!!""" (Everything Else)
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