Alice-in-Black

Sometimes, standing outside in the summer air, she imagined that she could smell the warm sugar and tropical flora on the wind blowing up from the provinces to the south. The West Weald was so close to such extraordinary places, Elswyr and Valenwood and even stranger places beyond, so close to absolutely unknown and mysterious worlds; you’d never know it from where she stood, though, slowly sinking in the stinking mud that spread off the Strid River’s interconnected aqueducts into the farmland of Kvatch. The mud, the bugs, the miles of boring fields with a few goblin hovels hidden under rocks. Even the city of Kvatch itself was f

Flair for the dramatic runs in the family. Everyone just expresses the trait differently. For some, like the selfish and cruel Listener, it’s a demonstration of narcissism. The world belongs to him, he is the master of his own and everyone else’s destiny, and he will play with the lives - and deaths - of those around him as if it were a game. For truly, to Zeno, it is. For others, like Nazir, it is simply part of the craft. His trade is a straightforward one, and death can be achieved as easily as an unfortunate slip getting out of bed. Dramatics make his job more than just orchestrating accidents, or stopping a heart by mundane

Back then, Zeno was new to Skyrim, and especially new to Markarth, but he learned his way around easily. So easily, in fact, that Ondolemar was only half surprised when the curious little Imperial began letting himself into Understone Keep for casual exploration, striding right on in as if he’d been sent for. Compact like an acrobat, with a lot of strength packed into a relatively small and slender frame, he hid sleek leather armor beneath traveling clothes but wore his weapons on his belt without a care who saw them. Zeno, strange and forthright, had no qualms admitting to Ondolemar that he’d defected from the Imperial Legion ju

“A ship?” Legate Sevan Telendas liked to consider himself a busy man. But out here, they were far from the action, held in suspense while the war waged hotter and fiercer elsewhere. Isolated here in the Winterhold Imperial camp, he was beginning to wonder if General Tullius outright forgot about him and his small contingent. This was the first noteworthy thing his spies had scrounged up for him in weeks. A ship. Sailing. In the sea. “Smaller. A smuggling boat,” the soldier, Matus, corrected pointedly. “The kind one uses when they don’t intend to dock in any respectable port, or bother trying pass themselve

Skyrim makes Nords out of everyone; spend long enough among its snowy expanses, its towering forests, its sprawling moors or rugged cliffs, and eventually the frozen air won’t sting so much to breathe. Eventually, the snow will seep right into the soul. Icebergs rose high in the distance, climbing up from the horizon like an unexplored mountain range of glass. Their boat glided smoothly, and no waves crashed against the nearby shore. With all the ice and the smattering of low tidal islands breaking up the sea, all the waves lost their bluster long before reaching their vessel. It was easy sailing, besides having to carefully cut throug

Everyone in the Palace of Kings knew Calder. Minor nobility possessing a notable finesse with even the most unwieldy axes, he turned down a chance to fight in the war in preference of an only-somewhat quieter life as a housecarl. Not much about the man indicated his ultimate desire for a domestic environment on first glance, but after a lifetime of helping in the kitchens and teaching fellow warriors how to sew the tears in their gambesons, his final decision came as very little surprise to his superiors and peers alike. If he coveted more power than that, to become a thane himself one day, he never expressed it in anything more than half-hea

Breath held in tense lips, he waited for her to stir. Any minute, her eyes would open, and this would get more difficult by multiples. Their night was perfect. Perfect as he could have hoped, given the circumstances. She was fed, warm, hopeful, and he’d danced her breathless under the green auroras. Oh, how she laughed and laughed in sweet trills that drowned out the echoes of isolation that yet remained in his ears from his own years spent in solitude. Would she suffer the same loneliness? he wondered. Would she gather the same mental and emotional scars that he had? If he ever found her again, would her laughter be warped as his was

Sunlight gleaming through the window brought her back to reality with a sharp jab of pain through her eyelids. Rolling over was the greatest mistake of her life, and she curled in on herself and keened like a wounded animal, and still only managed to sound half as pathetic as she felt. “Oh, shut up. You were a menace all night, and I’m not going to feel sorry for you now.” Brother’s voice rang cold as ever, somewhere in the room. “Now sit up. I made you tea. Are you going to be sick? I put a pot right beside the bed. Can you reach it? Let me help you up, be careful. Hush-shush, I’m right here, you’re