I cursed myself as my feet led me down the alleyways towards the Warrens, the slum of Markarth.

I knew it was foolish to actually investigate the man's room, as my legate and Eltrys asked, but the threat of a mercenary roaming around the streets, waiting for someone to intimidate didn’t sit well with me.

What if a child poked his nose where it didn’t belong? I asked myself.

I had a black cloak thrown around my form, with the hood up. It covered up the imperial garb I normally wore. I wasn’t here on duty, but I would use my position if it was needed.

It didn’t take me long to reach the Warrens. It was just as bad as I expected. There were no guards to be found, we had long since abandoned this part of the city. I got sick to my stomach. People laid on the streets, on blankets. Women enticed me to a fun night, and children ran around unattended.

Damn you. I thought, but couldn’t find anyone to blame. Maybe I should blame myself, since it is my duty.

I made a note to have a talk with the legate who was in charge of this sector of the city. It would be a long, detailed discussion. My blood boiled.

I grabbed a hobbling old man by the elbow, reached down and picked up the blanket he was trying to reach and threw it around his shoulders. The man flinched, and tried to back away.

“Easy now.” I told him gently. The man didn’t dare look me in the eyes. “Do you know of a man named Weylin?” I asked.

I already knew everything I needed to know, but I had to draw the mercenary out of his hiding place. The man didn’t answer like I expected, so I let him go and turned to the rest of the people in the little clearing I was in.

“Anyone know of a man named Weylin? Two septims for information.” I yelled out to whoever could hear me.

I expected to be mobbed by people, trying to get the money to feed their families. Instead, all I got were looks of fright before everyone backed away from me and then turned their heads. I filed the information away in my mind.

Someone rules over this part of the city. I realized, watching the people. And they rule with an iron fist. I think I know who it is.

If it was who I believed it to be, then I had much less time with the forsworn conspiracy than I initially believed.

In fact, I bet the King in Rags is no longer imprisoned. I thought.

I mentally prepared myself for a fight as I walked away from the area that I was in. I roamed the Warrens aimlessly for a good hour. I intentionally walked along abandoned streets, and alleyways waiting for my attackers. I flinched at nearly every sound, and my magic was primed and ready to go at a moment's notice.

It finally happened. I turned down an alleyway that I had already traversed a couple of times, and at the end of it stood a figure, in a similar cloak to my own.

I almost relaxed, until I felt the magick in the shadow beside me.

Suddenly there was a dagger heading towards my ribs from my left side. Instinct took over, and I telekinetically ‘pushed’ the thrusting arm to the side, where it would miss me.

My arm slipped into their guard, and soon I had a very deep choke hold on my attacker with my left arm around their throat, and my right under their right arm locking the choke in place.

I whipped them around, to put my assassins front to his companion and hide behind him. It was the right move, as an arrow impacted their torso.

Things happened quickly then. Three more people appeared in the alleyway and I knew they weren’t friendly. The body in front of me wheezed because of the arrow in their right lung. It didn’t stop them from grabbing a second dagger with their left arm and blindly stabbing.

It happened so fast, and I was distracted with the newcomers to be able to react in time. The dagger sunk into my right side.

I groaned in pain and their arm jerked it out, causing blood to spurt from my side. At this point, there was no thinking involved and I twisted.

‘Crunch.’

The sickening sound echoed through the alleyway and my attacker's face caught my eyes as her body fell to the ground, dead immediately with a broken neck.

A burn spread from the wound on my right side and I realized why quickly. Poison.

“What the fuck?!”

“No!”

The cries from the woman's companions told me that she was most likely the leader, which bode well for me. If they were all of the same skill level, then I would be in trouble.

I need time. I thought as the poison spread throughout my body. .

I summoned my magic and sent out an illusion spell I learned the day before. Fear was unlike calm. There were two ways to do it, the first was to project your own fear. The second was to project your own confidence with a twist, as if it was directed at someone. The best I could compare it to would be killing intent from Naruto.

I chose the second option. Fear has no place in my mind.

The women's companions took a step back, and I immediately switched my magic to healing magic and focused on what I wanted it to do.

I grabbed the burn in my body, and willed it back to the wound in my side. I was surrounded by a yellow glow that lit up the alleyway. The other three attackers were all men, and they looked at me like I was Death coming to judge them of their sins.

Blood stopped spurting onto the ground, and redirected itself to do my bidding. It was a slow process, and I decided I had to distract them longer.

I drew my sword with a flourish. “You can all leave here alive if you answer a few questions.” I said dropping into a stance.

I switched my healing magic to send out another burst of fear to them and then switched back to healing magic. All of the poison reached the wound, and I pushed it out. I felt the coagulated blood and poison dribble out onto my skin.

A quick check let me know that I was almost out of magicka. All my training had increased my reserves by leaps and bounds, but switching between the two schools was taxing. Plus it was hard to focus on control in the situation.

“He’s poisoned, you idiots. And it’s three on one. We can take him.” The smartest of the bunch said.

I wanted to send another burst of fear, but instead sealed the wound on my side. It was a good thing too, because my magicka ran out without warning. The wound was only scabbed over, and not healed completely. Not to mention the damage the poison caused inside, combined with the blood loss.

I focused on my ‘meditation’, and tried breathing in magicka from the air around me. A small trickle filled my system just as the fear wore off on my opponents.

They didn’t waste any more time, and one of them drew back on the bow in their hands. I breathed in another small amount of magicka just as he loosed it and his companions charged.

I extended the small amount of magicka in the form of telekinesis and slightly nudged the arrow in the air, sending it off target and to the right. It passed right by his companion's ear and I cursed my small reserves.

Could’ve taken one out with his own arrow. I thought.

Then the first man was on me. He swung his sword hard down, intending to cut me from left shoulder to right hip. His companion was approaching from my left, and was also winding up his own swing to take me down when I blocked or parried the first man’s swing.

I did the only thing I could and stepped to the right of the first man's swing. My left forearm whipped up and slapped the first blade with the metal gauntlets on it.

I stepped past him to the second man, and my sword rose to parry his swing. The first man was almost recovered from his opening move.

I need space. I thought.

My right foot lashed out and kicked the second man in the chest, sending him tumbling to the ground.

I turned back to the first man, calmly parried his thrust that would have pierced my chest. I stepped forward and slashed. I turned around to an arrow piercing my left shoulder.

The man and I both grunted in pain, although it was followed by his body giving out on him as blood poured out of his body into the dirt at our feet.

I had no moment of reprieve as the man that I kicked to the ground was on his feet again. Anger overtook me for a moment and I went on offense.

I swung a direction that I knew would make him move into his friends line of sight, to save me from the next arrow. He did as I thought and sent another attack. It was laughably easy to parry it and step in his guard to deliver a punch to his ribs.

The punch caused them to crack, and he backed up towards his companion like I expected. We were within fifteen feet of the archer then, and he had his bow trained on our forms, waiting for the opportunity.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I stayed close to the man with the sword and my left hand reached out and grabbed his sword arm. Then I decided he didn’t need that appendage anymore, and I cut it off at the elbow.

My foot impacted the man's chest again, just as I reached out to my magick again. It had recovered just enough for my next move.

As the armless swordsman fell, I pushed the arms of the man with the bow off to the side, and when he loosed the arrow, it was way off once again.

Then I was in his guard. His hands dropped the bow, once he realized what happened, and moved to unsheathe the sword on his waist. I didn’t let him, and with a quick cut, his head rolled on the floor of the alleyway.

The rage in my system disappeared, replaced by pain in my gut and shoulder. Blood ran down both wounds, as I had opened the one on my side back up with more fighting.

I grit my teeth and turned around to the man on the ground, I expected him to be dead from the blood loss, but instead, the wound on his arm was cauterized and he passed out from the pain.

I looked back at the headless figure at my feet, and saw that it’s cut was also cauterized, and my sword's runes were glowing.

Then my eyes sought out the first man I cut down after the assassin, and saw blood pooling around him.

So the sword’s enchantments have to be activated by the user? It doesn’t hold a certain amount in it like the games? Do soul gems even exist? I pondered for a moment. I was out of magicka when the first man attacked, and then I used a small amount at the end of the fight with the other two.

Pain broke me out of my thoughts, and I groaned as I recognized the similarities from my first day in this universe.

“I’m tired of being ambushed.”

----------------------------------------

“Hold your wrist out.”

I can confidently say one thing. I was not expecting to be put in cuffs once guards stumbled on the scene.

I looked at the guard as if he was the dumbest thing on Tamriel, but I did not obey him. I shed the cloak obscuring my form instead. Once my rank, now displayed on my shoulder, hit the air the guard dropped his hand and belted the cuffs instead.

“Sorry, sir.” The guard said, and I couldn’t tell if I knew the man because of the helmet on his head.

“It’s alright, soldier. These men ambushed me and I defended myself.” I told him, not willing to go in too much detail. “You can see the result of the fight.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard said and turned to his companion. “Go get someone to clean this mess up.” He told the other man. The other guard moved to obey him quickly.

“I was investigating something for my legate.” I started. “Did you hear about the attack in the market square not too long ago?”

“Yes, sir. He died in the cells right?” The guard asked.

“Aye, and if I let this one...” I said kicking the body at my feet. “...get imprisoned. I fear the result would be the same.”

I gave him a look, one that both of us knew meant that I wanted some alone time with the man. The guard didn’t acknowledge what I said at all, and instead he turned around and pretended like I wasn’t there.

I smiled and kneeled down. The man without his sword arm was still passed out and I pondered on how to wake him up.

I decided that smacking the cauterized wound was the best course of action. The man shot up like a rocket, with a scream and wide eyes.

A quick burst of ‘calm’ spread out from my half-way recovered magick, and the man stopped his panicking for a second.

“Who sent you?!” I asked sharply, sending a ‘fear’ into the man.

“I don’t know!”

My fist impacted his nose, and it crumpled under my punch. I sent another ‘fear’ at him, and grabbed him by his collar.

“Who!?”

Blood ran down his face from his now-crooked nose. “I don’t know. Amy only mentioned ‘the nose’.”

I paused, recognizing the name. Nepos the Nose was a man deeply embedded in the noble society of Markarth. He just so happens to be Forsworn also.

“Oh, thanks!”

----------------------------------------

I rolled my shoulder and prodded at my left side. I smiled in happiness at the injuries being completely healed, although I had new scars already.

Restoration is broken. I thought before I caught myself. Really I think magic is broken.

I wanted to do nothing more than go to the barracks and pass out, but I needed to talk to the Legate and Eltrys. I already had blood on my hands because of them, and would see this whole ordeal through to the end.

I still had no idea what to do about Madanach or the forsworn in the mines of the city. Would they attack soon?

I focused on the task at hand as I caught sight of the shrine of Talos. Rumor has it that it’s supposed to be taken down and destroyed. But the city always falls just short in its budget every year. I suspect it was the Jarl giving the legion and the Aldmeri Dominion the middle finger.

I smiled as I turned a corner to go towards the same spot from previously. My smile dropped quickly.

“No, please! I have a fami..” A gurgle followed. The sound one makes when they find their throat opened up.

Fuck. I thought as I drew my weapon and slowly rounded the corner.

I heard a scuffle then and I threw caution to the wind. When I finally saw what was going on, my legate was fighting off two attackers.

Three people laid on the ground dead, or bleeding out. I rushed forward and wasted no time in cutting down a female attacker with a dagger in her hand. My sword moved through her body like a hot knife in butter, an effect of the enchantment. She died before she hit the ground.

My legate took the distraction I provided and opened the other attackers stomach open, spilling guts on the ground. He wasted no time in piercing the brain afterwards, making sure of the kill. It was an extreme showcase of brutality.

I subconsciously analyzed his movements, and was surprised to find someone who knew his way around a sword.

“You alright?” I asked, as he cleaned his blade off.

“Yeah. Thanks, soldier.” The legate said.

“They came for me earlier, too.” I told him quickly, catching him up on the events of the night. “Nepos sent them.”

My eyes found Eltrys’ form on the ground, his throat opened up and spilling blood still.

“Nepos?” The legate asked. “How do you know?”

“Interrogated one, they mentioned ‘The Nose’. Only one person with that moniker in the city.” I told him.

The legate nodded to me but didn’t say anything. He was still recovering from the fight, obviously. Then I noticed the blood running down his leg.

He stumbled, and I moved to catch him. “Where is it?” I asked quickly.

I summoned my magick, and hoped I had enough left in the tank when he responded. “Inner thigh, nothing too major.”

There is an artery there, you idiot. I thought. I set him down on the ground and put my hands around his leg. He didn’t react, because he had passed out.

“Don’t move.” I told him as if he could hear me and sent my magic into his body. I quickly got a read of the injury and found that his artery was indeed nicked. I sealed it quickly, pouring magick into it. I didn’t have enough to do much more, nor did I have the opportunity.

“Don’t move!”

I felt the unmistakable tip of a sword being pressed against my back. I did as the person said, and froze every muscle.

“This man could d...”

“Shut the fuck up! Hands behind your head, slowly.”

Once again, I obeyed and slowly rose my hands to my head. Only because I couldn’t do anything more for the legate, nor was I willing to act against the guard behind me.

Cuffs graced my wrists, and I was shoved to the ground. I understood what the scene must look like, and when they find out I was the same person that was responsible for another blood bath on the opposite side of the city, well it wasn’t going to be pretty.

I couldn't even argue because of the sword pressed against my back. My thoughts summed the situation up exactly.

Well, fuck.

----------------------------------------

“Well you’re in quite the predicament.”

I looked up, from my laying position on the cot in the cell the legion had so graciously gifted me. Lo and behold, the Captain of the guard stood in front of me with a grin on his face. My calm confident feeling was replaced with hate for the man.

I jumped out of bed and snapped to attention. “Sir.” I said in greeting regardless of my feelings toward him.

“You are a prisoner, not a Praefect.” The Captain said in response.

“Once he wakes up, he’ll confirm my story sir.” I responded, completely confident.

The grin on his face widened and my gut twisted, as if he knew something I didn’t. “Is that so?” The captain asked.

That doesn’t bode well.

“Because to me, and everyone else important, it looks like you went on a bloody rampage all last night. We even found this note in your pocket.” The Captain said smugly and held up a piece of paper between two fingers.

I looked at it and everything started clicking. I held on to hope, because once the legate wakes up, he’ll confirm my story. I just had to wait until then. Dread pooled in my gut. Then I noticed a suspicious lack of other guards in the barracks prison. My gut feeling intensified.

“‘They know too much. You know what to do’ - N.” The Captain read aloud. “That’s pretty incriminating.”

“Forged, and then planted on me by someone in this N’s pocket. Someone who arrested me.” I said, confident that he would believe me.

That’s when I realized that I was talking to the wrong person about all this. I assumed that the Captain would be fair and just about the whole situation. The memory of the Captain sitting in the Silver-Blood Inn flashed through my mind, and my gut feeling disappeared as I figured the whole situation out.

This motherfucker. I thought.

The Captain just stared at me, his smile gone. “You made powerful enemies, Hadvar. All because of a whore Tullius sent.”

General Tullius was the head of the Legion in Skyrim. The most powerful man besides the High King. And the Captain said his name with such contempt.

“Margret?” I asked, confused. Was this a part of the games?

“If that is her real name. Sent by Tullius to investigate me and the Silver-Bloods.” He revealed. “Look at your face, you didn’t even know.”

His laugh echoed through the prison, and my stomach dropped. He would only tell me this if he was sure I wouldn’t be able to talk. I can’t believe I forgot about her being a spy.

“You’re in the Silver-Bloods pocket.” I deduced finally. Originally I just assumed they had a good relationship because of his title but that was wrong. The Captain was the source of incompetency in the legion.

“And they don’t like people getting in their business.” I continued. “I stopped Margret’s assasination, and then I shacked up with her.”

“And then you met with that idiot of a legate and the nord.” The captain sneered at me. “You forced their hand, and mine with it. My arrangement does make me a very rich man, and I can’t jeopardize that.”

The gut feeling I had earlier was instantly replaced with white hot rage. It flooded through my body, and I wanted nothing more than to kill the man in front of me. But I didn’t, because there is still a chance that the legate will survive and be able to get me out of here without me becoming a criminal in all of Skyrim.

What if he doesn’t wake up? I thought to myself. Best case scenario is I escape and live my life as a bandit or something just as dishonorable.

The Captain pocketed the note in his hand and his smile returned quickly. “You’re to be sent to the mines two days from now.”

The mines, where Madanach rules the forsworn from. I thought. I’d be dead immediately.

“Oh and I forgot to mention…”

Dread pooled in my stomach as my terrible gut feeling returned.

“The legate is dead.”