Chapter 76: Picking Your Battles


25th of Evening Star


"You'd think we told them we were planning to walk into Hell," Yang said to her partner as they rode west. "I mean, Capric was just kinda surprised, but Dexion acted like we were going to march to our deaths."

"I guess there's a lot of stuff said about the place we just don't know about because we're not local," Blake said while flipping through the pages of a book. "Hm, says here that Blackreach used to be where several Dwemer cities intersected. I guess that makes sense. It might be crawling with Falmer, if not Dwemer robots. Probably both, if we're being honest."

"Well, it's nothing we can't handle. Best approach would probably be the quiet one if that's the case." Yang recalled their last foray into Falmer territory and groaned. "I just…hate going down there and messing with them. Can you imagine how it must've felt from their point of view when we went into Irkngthand?"

"I…" Blake tried to imagine it, and mostly came up with stories told about Faunus communities being targeted by race riots in the years leading up to the Faunus Rights Revolution. Only it might have been worse in the minds of those Falmer, as they could neither see their attackers nor understand anything they said. Finally, she admitted, "It's not something I'd like to linger on."

"Yeah… Can't say I blame ya."

Both rode in silence for a moment, with Yang taking out her map to look over the roads. Everyone had gone their separate ways yesterday after giving themselves a day to rest. Nothing much happened except meeting the new tenants at Proudspire and a steak dinner courtesy of Capric's butler. Ruby, Lydia, and Dexion split off from them at Dragon Bridge, heading through Morthal while Yang and Blake headed south to cross the river. While they did find a shortcut through a small mountain pass that saved them from having to go all the way around, it was still a fair distance to travel just to cross the Hold's border, and now they were facing a new predicament.

"So, where do we go to get one of these things?" Blake asked as she looked around at their surroundings. They were passing some old castle fort and heading toward a bridge, but aside from some people she could hear walking around within the walls, there wasn't much else.

"Uh, you know, I'm not sure." Yang started looking around as well. "I just figured some of those Forsworn guys would attack us at some point, then we'd smack our way through to their higherups and find a briarheart on the way."

The Faunus made a soft sigh and shook her head. "You know, I went all the way to Markarth and back without running into one Forsworn."

"Okay, not my best plan, but we're here, so we'll figure it out."

As they crossed the bridge, a figure appeared ahead of them and waved them down. It was an Orc in worn clothing and some iron bracers, a leather sack at his side. The girls were wondering what he might want as they pulled the reigns of their horses and slowed to a stop near him, the Orc giving them a friendly smile as he approached.

"Greeting, sisters!" he said happily. "You look weary. I have something to help you relax, if you're interested."

Blake groaned, recognizing the chink of cheap glass vials coming from his bag. She doubted they contained a multitude of potions and medicines. Not legitimate ones, anyways.

"Sorry, bud," Yang shot him down, smelling the pungent narcotics he was peddling. "Also, work on your pitch, but we're not buying what you're selling. Unless you have a briarheart on you?" she asked, slightly hopeful.

The Orc's eyes went a little wide as he scoffed out a humorless laugh. "Briarheart? No way I'd get tangled into that. Forsworn are good buyers sometimes, but those things are one of their prized possessions. You'd have to pry one out of their cold, dead chests."

"It was warm last time," the blonde offhandedly stated before pushing for Lucky Day to go forward. "Thanks anyways. Good luck with your illegal activities."

Blake caught up with her on Patches, looking back at the Orc as he seemed to mosey over to a tree to rest against and narrowing her eyes at him.

"Should we just leave him there?"

"Doesn't seem to be hurting anyone," Yang shrugged it off. "Plus, we're in the Reach now, and there's no nearby towns we know of. We could try to take him in, but we could get in just as much trouble since we don't know the laws, or we might do more harm than good. I don't like leaving a drug dealer out and about to do his dirty business, but right now we're technically foreigners."

Blake sighed at that, recalling how the system of law worked for Skyrim. Rarely did they track laws across Holds, and it was even rarer with the civil war going on. That also meant a person of importance in one Hold was likely barely considered a citizen in another. Both were Thanes of Whiterun, as well as Hjaalmarch and the Rift, but all that meant in other Holds was that they could demand a trial if accused of a crime.

"We'll figure out what the Reach's laws say on that stuff, and if we're cleared, we can always come back and arrest him," Yang further explained to her, tapping her nose. "Very distinct scent, skooma dealers got."

Blake grinned at that. She was beginning to contemplate how much of a game-changer her partner's heightened sense of smell could be at times, before a signpost up ahead at a fork in the road caught her attention. The two darker signs pointed from where they came and the road ahead and along the river, indicating they were the ways towards Whiterun and Markarth, respectively. A lighter sign pointed toward the path going uphill, naming the destination Karthwasten.

"Huh, looks pretty close," Yang said as she stood in the saddle. "I can see some buildings. Probably the edge of the place."

"Well, might be worth a check," Blake admitted. Yang nodded, then turned her horse to face the uphill route, and they continued moving.

The two headed down the road. Soon enough, a few buildings came up as they crested the hill, nestled by cliff walls, near mountain edges, and overlooking the slope leading down to the main road and river. In the midst of all these buildings, however, were two groups staring each other down. One was composed mostly of people in mining wear with pickaxes held to their sides as well as a few other civilians, numbering maybe over a dozen and a half. Opposite of them were maybe half the number of men in worn, but full armor with axes and swords on their belts, hands ready to grasp them if necessary. It was enough to make the two Huntresses pause as what seemed to be a tense standoff occurred before their eyes.

"I want you sellswords out of my mine," one of the better-dressed civilians growled at the roughshod mercenaries.

"Watch your tongue, native," a man in a kettle helm warned him, particularly biting at the word 'native'. "We'll leave when we're sure there's no Forsworn here."

"Oh, and when will that be, I wonder?" the man sarcastically asked. "When I sell my land to the Silver-Bloods?"

"The Silver-Bloods have made you a very generous offer for this pile of dirt. I suggest you take it."

The standoff seemed to last for hours, though it may have only been a minute at most. Both sides eventually backed off, with the mercenaries heading towards a mine in the side of the mountain and the townsfolk going back towards their homes. With the tension finally letting up, Yang and Blake finished their approach, the blonde hopping off her steed and heading towards the man who had stood up to the sellswords. He was bald with thick, brown mutton chops, but on his cheeks were matching, angular tattoos that almost blended in with his facial hair. He sighed while rubbing his head and face before talking, seemingly to no one in particular.

"If the Forsworn aren't attacking the town, the Nords are trying to force me off it," he complained.

"Looks like you've got some trouble," Yang pointed out. The man jumped a little in surprise, then looked over at her and scoffed.

"Robbery is what it is!" he angrily exclaimed. "The Silver-Bloods are trying to muscle in on my land. Forsworn attack the mines, and suddenly all these sellswords show up to 'help'. They won't let anyone work until I sell it off."

Yang looked back to the mine entrance the agitators had retreated into, narrowing her eyes. A few rag-tag men and women who were basically legal bandits certainly wasn't beyond her ability.

"What if I 'convince' them to leave?" she said, making air quotes with one hand.

"You can try, but I'd keep your sword-arm ready in case things get ugly."

"Wait, who are these Silver-Bloods?" Blake asked as she pulled up.

"A family of thieves," the Reachman snarled, "running their corrupt empire from Markarth. The Silver-Blood family own half the Reach, and they won't stop until they own all of it."

"And they're after your land now," Blake noted. She looked around at the people and houses, noting each member of the community that she spotted and what she could gauge about them from what little she could see. "You're… He called you a native. That means you're a Reachman, right?"

"Yes, I am. I know, it's rare for us to actually own our land, but Karthwasten has belonged to my family for generations." The man regretfully sighed and shook his head. "Not that it does me any good. Nords think I'm working for the Forsworn. Forsworn think I'm working for the Nords."

Blake winced at that, and memories of her days with the White Fang returned, specifically of times when they didn't know whether a Faunus in a particular position was genuinely trying to live their life or was a sellout. It was something that was probably debated far more often than it had to be. To some of her former comrades, it probably made little difference which one they were if they didn't support the Fang.

"Well, I'll go straighten this out," Yang announced, cracking her neck before heading towards the mine. "Be back in a bit."

"Well, they're goners," Blake figured with a soft laugh and shake of her head. A faint sound at the edge of her hearing caught her attention for a moment, making her look towards the western sky while the blonde continued on into the carved-out tunnels.

A few of the mercenaries saw her enter and looked at her with narrowed eyes and tense poses. Yang just continued on without so much as a pause, going to where the man with the kettle helm and mismatched plate armor was standing, looking over a paper and seeming to count something under his breath. A Redguard with bulging arm muscles tried to stand in her way before she could reach the one she guessed to be their leader, but the other man noticed her either way.

"The mine is closed," kettle helm told her dismissively while crossing his arms. "Get lost."

"Yeah, about that," Yang uttered before putting one hand on the man in front of her and shoving him aside, making sure to make it seem as effortless as possible. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"Forsworn attacked a while back," he offered while eyeing where his fellow had landed, the bulky man slowly extracting himself from a pile of rock. "Jarl had no men to spare, so the Silver-Bloods generously offered to send us to clean things up. We just want that old native to hand over his land in payment for our services. Then we'll leave, and everyone can get back to work."

"Uh huh." Yang's minuscule amount of false cool fell away from her face as she gave him a hard look that made the man flinch back. She walked up to him, hands to her hips as her eyes bored into his. "And these Silver-Bloods are just going to trample over everyone here for that? And you'll do it for them? I have a better idea. Get lost, or you'll regret it."

The man seemed somewhat nervous, but the mercenaries had already come in to investigate the commotion and were all watching the confrontation, some of them with hands on their weapons. It was enough, it seemed, to give the sellsword leader back a modicum of bravery.

"You're going to regret those words, girl," he seethed as he took a step back.

"You know," she said with a humorless laugh as she began cracking her knuckles, "I did have an idea about how to kick this off. Go ahead and note that your one good decision today was to wear a codpiece."


"Should have known," Blake mumbled as she took cover behind a water trough. The dragon that had just landed in the center of the town was a shiny blue with polished, black horns and wings in gradients of red and purple that the dragon proudly splayed out. Blake didn't know much about dragon expressions, but she was certain this one was as smug as Yang after a particularly bad string of jokes. "I knew that flapping was too big for a bird, but I didn't bother paying attention."

"What is it doing?!" Ainethach asked in near-panic. "You've seen dragons before?!"

"A few times," Blake calmly told him, hoping the other locals would hear and take in the information. "It hasn't attacked, so that's a good sign. The fact that it landed is also good. They only do that when they have something to-"

"Come hither, mortals! I require brushes and jewelry," the dragon suddenly announced, waving a wing around as though gesturing with it.

"-say."

The majority of the fear was at least now replaced with confusion and curiosity. People were looking out of their hiding places to observe the dragon, which still hadn't made a move to do much of anything, unless one counted gaining an annoyed expression.

"Come out, I say! Quit this dallying! I require brushes to clean my scales and silver baubles to compliment them. It has been centuries, and I refuse to look anything less than my best for the return."

The Reachman looked at Blake again, his eyes pleading with her. "You've dealt with dragons before?"

"A few times," she admitted.

"Then please, do something about this. I'll give you near anything you want, up to-"

"An answer would be prudent, mortals!"

"Okay, okay," Blake said as she came up and around, holding up her hands as she walked out into the open. "You can't expect people to get over a dragon suddenly appearing that quickly."

The dragon simply harrumphed at that. "A few hundred years and all of the local mortals forget how to act. Once the hierarchy is reestablished, I will be certain the proper etiquette is taught once again." The dragon made a sort of head waggle with the last few words, then looked down at Blake again. "Let my commands be clear then. I require at least four mortals to brush all the dirt from my scales, especially between the toes and pits of my wings. I will also need clean water used to fully polish them after the initial brushing. While that is done, I require several silver decorations made to fit my horns and wing claws. Be careful not to scuff any, or I will be…displeased."

The Faunus sighed and craned her neck. Everyone else at least no longer felt the need to be fully hidden. Instead, most were standing near where they had fled to and were looking about, trying to figure out what exactly they were supposed to do. One woman had actually gone into her house and come back out with a cleaning brush and straw broom. The dragon was positively beaming at her actions, pointing at her as though to tell the others to follow her example.

"Okay, look," Blake began, already feeling the headache coming on. "I'm glad you're not…immediately destroying everything. A lot of your brothers could learn a thing or two, but…these people probably can't afford the time and silver for your demands to be met without…"

Blake trailed off as she saw Yang come out of the mine, sitting on the back of the lead sellsword from earlier with a few of the others holding him up like a palanquin. Each of them were bruised, a little sooty, and more than anything, fairly demoralized. Seeing the dragon looking down at them all with what was likely displeasure seemed to shock them out of their shameful daze, causing them to quickly put down their leader and run for the hills. Yang opened her eyes, her smug smile fading when she realized her recent victims were making a break for it, but then she looked over to see why.

"Huh, I wasn't in there that long," she said while standing up. The lead mercenary tried to get up and away, but Yang simply kicked him after his fellows. The man did struggle up moments later, but Blake was fairly certain that his dented armor indicated at least one cracked rib. Yang looked back at the dragon, her face even as she sized him up. "Who're you?"

"I am Kahgraanpaar! I ruled over this land during the reign of Alduin and many years after, until I was buried under a massive hill by invading Nords that were murdering my servants."

"Cool. Well, this area's come under different management a few times since then," Yang told the dragon. "Have you discussed a deal with the people here, or did you just immediately try to assert dominance? Because that's not gonna fly."

There was a growl before Kahgraanpaar leaned over and took a breath. "Yol Toor Shul!" Yang was suddenly covered in flames, the heat of them felt by Blake, who was at least twenty yards away from the Fire Breath's edge. He stopped and looked at the other people, many of whom went back to cowering.

"That is the deal. Obey, and you will not-" His words were cut off as a yellow blur smashed against the side of his face. The dragon stumbled, forced to give up his bipedal stance and put his wings on the ground before turning to look back at Yang, who was no worse for wear.

"Buddy, I did not just chase out a pack of hired bullies just so one big one could come in and do these people dirty!" Yang told him, shaking her fist at him. "Now, you can back down, or this can get messy!"

Kahgraanpaar snarled and rushed Yang, jaws open wide to snap down on her. The blonde ducked down and jumped forward, slipping under the dragon's bite before hitting the ground with a fireball and punching up, the explosive jump empowering her hit against the scaled jaw. The dragon's head was flung up before Yang roundhouse-kicked, the fire magic rocketing her around where she could slam her boot against Kahgraanpaar's face, knocking the dragon further off balance. As he seemed to stumble, almost into a house, Yang hit the dirt and rushed forward, another fireball aiding her momentum. The dragon looked over to see her flying towards his face, her fist hitting square between his eyes and knocking him down. Yang landed on him, then gripped two of his horns and began pulling, visibly bending them with some effort. The dragon roared out in pain, his body flinching about.

"Nid! Please, stop!" he pitifully begged.

Yang paused, letting up a bit while she stared the dragon directly in the eyes.

"What's the matter? You give up?" she asked, a wolfish grin on her face.

"Please, just…do not break my horns. I will stop. I will…do as you say," he whimpered out. Yang wanted to laugh out loud. After all the haughty bluster, the dragon gave in because he didn't want his visage marred.

"All right. I suppose you'll give your word then? A dragon's word?"

The once proud dragon whimpered again, but Yang could tell this was over.


Toggle seemed to be glad to have Weiss back again, and he also seemed to enjoy not being in a race against time. Weiss certainly enjoyed the smoothness of the ride, something that no horse seemed to replicate. Her prisoner, however, did not have the same line of thought.

"When are you going to get me off this damned pig?" Lhodon griped. Weiss looked behind her to the man tied at the back of the saddle and gave him a flat stare. Serana, riding next to them on a horse, rolled her eyes.

"When we get there," Serana decided to answer him, then held up a hand. "Actually, hold on. We have to do something."

"What-" The man was suddenly frozen as the green magic hit him.

"Total Stasis?" Weiss asked her.

"Won't know a thing. As far as he will be able to tell, the world just shifted forward in time."

"Useful," the heiress noted. Such a spell could ensure that people didn't learn sensitive information when they're moved from one place to another, which was essentially what was happening here.

They were heading to the Duskfall Haven. Weiss hoped that Jarmak would have some more intel or just general information they could use, on top of handing over a prisoner they could get something out of. The Thalmor had Tine in Capric's custody, but she doubted they cared much about a mortal man who had just been working with the vampires, hoping to gain immortality. The vampire they'd imprison for some time, possibly centuries. None of which would be pleasant, certainly, but there were worse fates. Knowing all of that, Weiss decided to take their other prisoner to another ally to question him. Possibly even more effectively.

There were some huffs to her side as the deathhound went ahead of them, sniffing around at the snow as he went. Yang had unintentionally provided their latest tag-along when she'd knocked the beast out during their stealth assault, rather than killing it as usually happened in their clashes with Volkihar members. With its previous master dead by the time it had regained consciousness, the hound wasted no time in attaching itself to them as the only vampire lords left. Weiss took a breath and reached out towards his mind, feeling what he felt and sensing what he sensed. She saw a version of the world lower to the ground and redder, less blue. The living things seemed to radiate a yellow light while a comforting darkness surrounded the undead, highlighting both against the world.

And he hadn't picked up even a trace of the Haven.

"Well, now I know they're safe," Weiss muttered as she let the magical link go. She'd have to remember to thank Crux for pointing her in the right direction.

Soon, they had entered Duskfall, hefting the prisoner between them with their mounts and newly turned dog walking after them. Toggle and Serana's new mare were led to the stables, but the deathhound continued following them. About halfway to their next destination, Lhodon unfroze.

"-do you mean?" the Redguard demanded, then blinked and looked around in confusion as they set him onto his feet. Some vampires looked at them as they passed by, and Lhodon seemed to realize approximately what happened. "Damn witchcraft."

"Wizardry, actually," Weiss corrected him as she pulled the ropes binding him along. They made their way through ice and stone tunnels and even a few constructed hallways. Weiss knew the path well by this point, having traveled it several times during her stay. They entered the chamber Jarmak often taught her at, and the Altmer turned from where the memory fountain had been reinstalled to greet them with a small bow.

"So, this is the one?" Jarmak asked as they led Lhodon up to him. He hummed as he observed the mortal's features, then nodded. "Very well, then. Were you far in Harkon's court?"

"I wouldn't say I was," Lhodon grumbled. "I was viewed as about equal to a thrall. That was supposed to change, but then…recent events altered things."

"That they have. Hm, count yourself lucky, mortal. Your suffering is not necessary to give us what we want." Jarmak grabbed the ropes tied around Lhodon and lifted him clear of the floor before turning and setting him into a chair next to the fountain.

"Hey!" he struggled a bit, a mostly pointless endeavor. "Are you somehow expecting me to tell you everything without something in return, then?"

"There will be no need to speak," Jarmak said while pressing two fingers to his forehead, drawing out a translucent line of green from the man, which immediately caught his attention.

"Wh-what are you doing with that?" he nervously asked as drops of sweat began to appear on his brow.

"Viewing your memories," Jarmak clarified, then connected it to the fountain, the green becoming opaque as the Redguard fought against it, grunting with his internal struggle. "Please do not resist so much. You'll only strain yourself."

"What? Why?! Why can't you show me how to summon a spirit-sword?!"

"Calm yourself, boy! Have you learned nothing?"

"Have I learned… I've learned every unforbidden technique, sword style, and physical form I've been taught. I've learned

everything, except the final lessons. And you won't teach them to me!"

"Not what we need," Jarmak muttered while waving his hand over the fountain, looking through different memories. "Even a young man has much within his mind to go through. This will not be quick." He looked over to the other two vampires. "I will do what I can, but there's no guarantees that he so much as witnessed anything important, much less knows of anything."

"It's better than nothing. We can't really go back at the moment." Weiss sighed as she stroked her chin, looking back up after a few breaths. "You heard about the battle at Fort Dawnguard?"

"All of Skyrim and much beyond has heard about it. That fool's gambit to overrun the place with Bloodfiends will bring…much unwanted attention."

"And he was damn near successful, too," Serana added. "If it wasn't for the fact we got a dragon and close to half a dozen… What do we call you? You're like legendary heroes, but more. Ultraheroes?"

"The word 'Huntress' will suffice," Weiss clarified.

"Even if he won there, the rest of Tamriel would have seen the threat." Jarmak looked back to his task for a moment before turning back to them. "That's what we need to prevent Harkon from doing."

"Trust me, I think I understand it way better now," the vampire princess told him. "The world used to feel so much bigger. Sure, we knew there was a continent across the ocean, a land in the seas to the south full of elves, a desert with strange catmen, but now… It all feels just across the horizon. Like I could take a trip and see the things I once wondered were real or myth." She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "And every last one of them…are willing to put everything aside to kill us if they really think we're big enough of a threat. They're almost ready for the first step."

"Precisely," Jarmak agreed. "While I would wish for a tide of metal to take away the worst of us, I do not want to sell the lives of those few who do good and only wish to live to see it. It may be up to us, in the end."

"I just hope things don't escalate too much further," Weiss mentioned as she crossed her arms. "It can't get much worse than that battle, but I don't want to test that. I don't think we'd have a counter if a similar army of werewolves were to be used."

"Hah!" Serana laughed. "Like that would ever happen!"

Jarmak let out a groan, a slight grimace visible beneath his hood.

"You're not going to tell me…"

"Quite a lot happened as you slept, Serana."


Weiss opened the door and walked in to see Gilly looking through a small-lens while one hand flipped through pages in a book. She looked up as Weiss entered and gave her a light smile, but then gasped as the deathhound walked in and began sniffing around.

"W-where did you get this?" the young girl asked as she squatted down and pet the dog-like beast.

"We were stopping a group of Harkon's vampires," Weiss summarized as she walked up and looked at what her friend was doing. "He was knocked out, but when he came to, he just started following me around. Since I can't really take an undead attack dog into civilized places, I figured we could leave him here."

"Her."

"Pardon?"

"She's a g-g-girl dog," Giledie explained as she stood up to her full height. "Didn't you check?"

"…I didn't really think to. Well, I guess that means the name Murdabe doesn't really suit her."

"W-why w-wo-would you name something 'killer'?"

"I didn't, it was on her collar."

"Oh, w-ell, that's a terrible name. I'll call you…Leslie," Gilly told the hound. The renamed Leslie seemed happy, insofar as a corpse-like hound could express happiness.

"Well, she seems to like it. What were you working on, if I might ask?"

"Oh, Svoldyn pointed me to some studies on disease-causing small life a-and some Daedric counterparts. M-m-m-most of the Haven studies them, hoping to figure out what might cause vampirism. She says they think it's small, smaller than most small life. Th-that w-w-would explain why they haven't found it. It's…smaller than the lenses can see."

"Virus," Weiss immediately said in contemplation. "Smaller than even the smallest bacterium. That makes too much sense."

"Virus?" Gilly asked her, head tilted.

"In my homeland, we have names for most small life. Most of what you think of when it's said are bacteria, single-celled organisms. But viruses are even smaller. In fact, they aren't even technically living things." Comparing that fact to what her burgeoning theory entailed made her click her tongue. It seemed just like Molag Bal to use a vector that subsisted on living things without really being alive itself in order to mutate and corrupt those very same life forms. "I can elaborate on it more later, but you'd have to understand a lot of other concepts for it to make sense, like the basics of how genetics are passed down, not to mention DNA and RNA."

"Genetics? Is that…how the traits of parents are passed down to offspring?"

Weiss looked at Gilly and smiled. "I shouldn't be too surprised. Technology is a form of evolution, not a ladder."

"Uh, what's an evolution?"


"Hey guys!" Ruby greeted the three Khajiit and massive sabrecat as she walked up from the stables, the horses being tended to by Lydia. Dexion was watching Lirry with something between fascination and terror while M'rissi bounded forward happily.

"Ruby! It is very good to see you!" she said before the two hugged. "Blake was here half the month ago," M'rissi pouted as they separated.

"Oh yeah, she's okay. She just had to go west for a while to get something."

The Khajiit's ears and tail perked up at that. "Really? But she did not stop by to tell M'rissi, Inigo, or S'ahara."

"There was a bit of teleporting involved in our last mission," Ruby admitted. "And before that was the army of vampires."

"Oh, the same from the stories in Falkreath? So many people were so scared! She was not afraid, but, um, she was worried about the people who might be hurt!"

"We also felt antsy," Inigo added in as he joined them before looking at her guest. "Who is the older gentleman?"

"This is Dexion," Ruby introduced the man. "He's a Moth Priest. Mr. Dexion, this is Inigo, M'rissi, and the lady waiting by the door is S'ahara."

"It is good to meet you," the man said to them, though his eyes kept trailing back to Lirry, who had just sniffed at the both of them before walking back to stand next to M'rissi.

"She is wondering, what do moths pray for?" M'rissi asked, catching the man off-guard.

"If I were to guess, it's for candles to not burn them," Inigo answered. "We should ask a moth sometime."

Dexion looked to Ruby as though hoping she'd help explain things, but she just shrugged. It wasn't that she didn't know, but telling him all the little details and nuances to make sense of the two would take a long time, more than she was willing to use at the moment.

"Everything's in order, my Thane," Lydia said as she walked up from the stables.

"Cool. Let's head on inside. You're gonna love S'ahara's cooking," she told their guest as they walked into the house. Dexion, for his part, was still focused on the sabrecat as she took up the rear of their procession.


"Right down this way?" Yang double-checked with their guide. After saving the town from both the Silver-Blood thugs and servitude under a dragon, all of Karthwasten unanimously decided to reward her (and Blake by association) with a large feast and help with any endeavor they were undertaking, now and in the future. Of course, like she suspected, they couldn't exactly hand her a briarheart, or even help assault some Forsworn for one. What they could do, however, was point them in the right direction. "Just past the waterfall?"

"Past the small waterfall and the midriver stone," Ainethach explained it to her. "If you reach a bridge overlooking a fall that feeds right before the river divides, you've gone too far."

"Thanks, man," she told him with a big smile.

"No need to mention it. After everything you've done, this is the absolute least we can do. We are forever in your debt, and should you ever require anything of us, all you need to do is ask."

"I'm surprised you're okay living this close to a bunch of hagravens," Blake commented as she led Patches along.

"It's not so much a case of being 'okay' with it as much as we've simply had a quiet understanding… Up until recently, that is. I don't know why, but Forsworn seem to be more active lately. They've always been aggressive but… Well, I don't know what they're up to, but it can't be good. If the hagravens give you any trouble, we'll shed no tears over their sudden passing."

"I hear ya there." Yang nodded to him and mounted her steed before heading down the road once again, Blake just behind her.

"What do you suppose is going on?" the Faunus asked her once she was sure they were out of earshot of the man.

"About what?"

"He said the Forsworn are acting up. A group like that has to keep their heads low most of the time. It's not like they have an infinite number of recruits they can pull upon. If they're stepping up, they might really be planning something."

"They might be," Yang admitted with a nod, "but we don't have the info to make any kind of real guesses at this moment."

"Well, I know they originally fought to try and get the Reach independent of Skyrim," Blake told her. "I don't know if that's still their goal, but I can't imagine it being too far off that. Even at its worst, the White Fang could still be said to be fighting for Faunus rights. They were going about it the wrong way, and we were starting to get less freedom fighters and more…vengeful murderers near the end, but that didn't change the stated goal."

"Well, maybe that's true, but we've seen what these guys do." Yang took a breath and let it out slowly. "Blake, I never told anyone about this, but… You know when me and Ruby fought some Forsworn and saved that Minotaur?"

"I heard about that, yeah."

"Blake, when Ruby saw what they had been doing, she snapped." The catgirl blinked a few times and looked to her partner as if to silently ask her to clarify what she meant. "I saw her go…full dragon on them. She was aiming to kill, not just stop them or disarm or anything. Aside from those kids, the hagravens at Orphan Rock were tame in comparison to what those guys had decorating their place. Now, I've heard that was extreme, even for them, but still, I doubt the White Fang ever thought about decorating their doorways with human intestines."

Blake looked a little introspective at that. Her eyes seemed to go up towards the clouds as thoughts went by her head, trying to make the comparisons to see if things were as she feared, or maybe as she'd hoped.

"Honestly, in another world, I don't know if they wouldn't have."

Yang frowned at that, but her attention was taken when she saw the short waterfall they were warned about. Her eyes and nose were then scanning all around them, making sure that wouldn't miss it when they found it. Finally, she pulled Lucky Day to a stop, having caught sight of the cave entrance, the smell of humans and animals wafting from within it. And if that wasn't telling enough, the rotted goat head impaled on a spike made it almost certain.

"This is it," she said while dismounting. "Bird bitches have to be in here."

"And likely some briarhearts guarding them," Blake concluded. The fact the few hagravens they had come across so far didn't have briarheart guards was apparently more of an oddity than the ones with them. In fact, one man suggested it might have been because those particular ones were inexperienced and had not yet learned the magic behind them. Blake wasn't sure how to feel about that.

The two walked into the cave's mouth, their senses peeled for any sign of people within. The first guard barely noticed them until Yang was right behind him, punching him across the face as he turned around and knocking him out. Just past where he'd been standing around, the cavern opened up into a large chamber housing a collapsed stone fortress, the pieces crumbled and mashed together over each other. A light shone from above, making the two Huntresses glance up to see the chasm that fed into the place.

"A fort on top must have fallen into a sinkhole," Blake concluded. "Couldn't have happened more than a couple of decades ago. That tree in the center isn't very big, either."

"And it's got more Forsworn," Yang pointed as she spotted a couple walking down from a sideways tower down a makeshift ramp. "No sign of hagravens. No scent. Hear anything?"

Blake focused and listened around them. After a few moments, she shook her head.

"Just some people plodding around, but I think I heard one over in there." She pointed at the sideways building the one they'd spotted came from. "I think there's something in there."

"Well, let's introduce ourselves then." Yang flexed her fingers before walking into the place, hopping up onto a boulder to see a trio gathered around a nearly dead campfire.

"So, you traded the bones with the Orc for mushrooms?"

"Well, we didn't really need the bones, and they were edible."

"You could've just asked me to help you find some. I've been foraging for mushrooms since I could walk. I know all the good ones for any occasion."

"Maybe you can help me find something then," Yang called down to them. The three men looked up, completely surprised to see an almost golden woman leering down at them. Before they could draw their bone-crafted weapons, Yang dropped down, kicking two of them while grappling the last one. She hooked an arm around his neck and spun, slamming him up against the stone and letting him slip down its side. The other two got to their feet, but one was impacted by an elbow before a cloth came to his face, forcing him to breathe in the vaporizing contents that made his consciousness slip. The other was suddenly flung forward by the force of an explosion behind him, only to be met with Yang's foot again. He landed on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs before some liquid splashed onto his face. He tried to keep it from getting in his mouth, but after a moment, he was out like a candle.

"Should keep them down for a good bit," Blake said while putting away the vial of sleeping potion. They headed up a set of wooden stairs into the building they'd spotted to see a woman dressed in mismatched furs next to a table of half-eaten food, looking at them both with surprise and fear. Everyone stayed silent for a long moment, then the woman held up her hands.


"So, part of this place hasn't fallen in yet," Yang observed as they crossed the bridge from one tower to another. "Interesting. Probably not a safe place to stay at, though."

"The Matriarchs have ensured for generations that the ground under the rest of this fort is stable. It'd take the fires of Kynath to sink the rest," their prisoner/guide Uati told them. "Of course, our…current ones are having some issues."

"What kind of issues?" Blake pressed her.

"Um, well, they had a disagreement about whether or not to…do something." The Reachwoman nervously twiddled her thumbs together.

"Like…?"

"Like…capturing a…few people and using them as sacrifices to fuel the Briartree." Now they had stopped, with Yang's hand placed firmly upon the woman's shoulder.

"And?" Yang tersely urged, squeezing Uati's shoulder enough to get the point across.

"M-m-mother Melka was against it!" she quickly stuttered out. "She believed in doing things the safe way and only using those already dead for it. Mother Petra wasn't so patient. She's been planning to send raids to some unprotected places."

"Wait, which is which?" Yang asked her to clarify.

"Mother Melka is currently…indisposed. She was caged up by Mother Petra's closest followers. I think she was planning to sacrifice her with the others." Her face suddenly brightened up. "But, you're both strong! You could go in and stop Mother Petra before she gets us noti- I mean, before she starts killing innocent people, right?"

"Well, we're definitely going to now," Blake figured. Half her reason for being here was simply to kill the hagravens, though the fact they were having a political disagreement made things less clear. For one of them, at least. "If you were so worried about Petra's goals, why haven't you done anything?"

"What am I supposed to do? I'm just a forager. I go out, find food, and bring it back."

"With a sword and spear?"

"So's I'm not the one foraged."

Blake and Yang looked at their guide for a moment, their eyebrows raised before they looked at each other. They silently conversed, then shrugged in acceptance.

"All right, let's head on in," Yang said, waving them both forward. "We've got at least one hagraven to kill."

Uati sighed, grateful that her captors believed her. As they walked into the main building and closed the door behind them, a voice spoke out from further inside.

"Who enters?" the raspy feminine voice asked. "Will nobody save poor Melka?"

Uati gasped in recognition, telling Blake and Yang this really was the hagraven she had previously referred to. They went through a door and saw a cage of thick, iron bars holding a hagraven inside. Blake tried to see if she noticed anything different about this one, but she couldn't really tell. She wasn't sure if that was because they just weren't very different, or if her mind never bothered with the details of each one. The hagraven noticed them immediately, and clasped her clawed hands around the iron bars and rattled them.

"Petra! Evil Petra put me here! Stole my tower! Hate her, chew her bones!" she shrieked angrily in her shrill voice.

"Calm down there, bird granny," Yang said to the creature. "So, one of your little buds told us about your feud."

Uati waved, and Melka smiled at her.

"Ah, good little Ua. I knew someone would come to help me soon." Her face returned to a snarl again. "But then all those bloodthirsty fools betrayed me! Brutes, bastards, pull out their eyes!" She went back to a smile and looked at Yang. "You will let me out, kind, kind meat?"

The blonde hummed at that. "I don't know. I know why I want to kill Petra, but why help you?"

"Because…you are such a nice Breton, yes!"

"Uh, I'm not a Breton."

"Oh. Yes." She squinted, trying to focus on Yang before shaking her head. "You all look the same."

Yang blew out a puff at that before pushing her bangs away from her face.

"Mother Melka could reward you!" Uati suddenly spoke up. "She has a lot of magical things! Some of them are even useful."

"Yes," the hagraven agreed. "Ah, I have a pretty staff."

"Look, we don't need a staff," Blake told them. "We need a briarheart. It's for…a magic thing."

"Ah, we have those, too," Melka responded. "Or we will, once Petra and her traitor guards are fed to the trees. Help me find Petra, wring her neck, pluck her eyes. You can have some hearts and staff."

"Well, can't say that's not a bad deal," Yang considered, even though part of her wanted to wring this hagraven's neck as well. "Okay, fine. We'll help. But don't think of backstabbing us for even one second."

"Yes, of course. Only friends now."

"We're really doing this?" Blake questioned, her distaste obvious, "Helping a hagraven, despite everything we've seen from them?"

"Trust me, I'm not really happy about it either," her partner commiserated. "But even without those briarhearts we need, well..." Yang turned back to Melka with narrowed eyes. "Apparently you're...maybe not peaceful, but a reasonable witch, who knows what kind of trouble raiding other people for sacrifices can bring down on your group. So, I'm sure you're smart enough to know what will happen if we ever hear about any typical hagraven atrocities and have to come all the way back here, right?"

"Yes yes!" the crone nodded without hesitation. "Friendly nibbles have no quarrel with poor Melka, only foolish Petra."

"...The fact that you keep calling us stuff like that doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but I guess that's the best we're going to get." Yang gripped the bars of the cage and began to slowly pry them apart. Blake just shook her head and snorted while reaching over and pulling at the chain in the wall. The cage swung open, leading to Yang yelping in surprise as all resistance suddenly went away, and the hagraven happily stepped out of her prison.

"Yes, kind morsels! Let us go up, and mind Melka on the way."

"Yes ma'am," Uati said as she followed after her. Blake quickly caught up to them, with Yang bringing up their rear, muttering about stupidly unsecured cage locks under her breath. They came up to a room with obvious dart holes pointed at a pedestal, and three buttons upon that. At the head of the room was a door barring their way.

"Press only the middle button," Melka explained. "Clever trick, yes? Nobody ever thinks of the middle."

Uati nodded and pressed said button. The door lifted, and they were heading forward again.

"I would've gotten it on the second try," Yang decided to say.

"Poison would get you the first time," the hagraven said with a chuckle. Further up, they came into a room connected to a hall full of swinging pendulums. "Careful here, there's a trick to this. Trick is to not bleed to death," Melka explained before looking behind herself and scratching her head. "Ah, and there's a lever, too."

The hagraven went over and pulled a hatch trigger, hidden among some moss, revealing a secret door in the stone wall. Inside the secret room was a large lever. Yang went in at the hagraven's behest, ready for some kind of trick (and confident Blake could handle what trick there could be) and pulled the lever, only to find it did exactly as advertised. The pendulums stopped, and the party traveled along. They soon came out of the hall and into another chamber with a small alchemical setup, a cooking fire, and some shelves with miscellaneous items on them that the two Huntresses might not have found odd in an alchemy store.

"Ah, my parlor. No better place to boil eyes, no." Yang felt grossed out by the comment, but she could've sworn she heard a chuckle from the Reachwoman. Was it some kind of Reach joke?

"Moving on," she announced while going towards the door at the side.

"Someone's up ahead," Blake warned her. "Sounds like they're…mining, I think."

"Right." Yang went through and began hearing the chink of metal on metal. As they rounded a corner in the cavernous tunnel, a man saw them and involuntarily turned his pickaxe midswing, sending pieces of the ore he was chipping at into the air. Yang took a step towards him, but when she breathed in the dust, she felt like her lungs were on fire and dissolved into a coughing fit. The man ran for it, and Blake went to Yang's side as she continued coughing, trying to help her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she ground out. "Don't know…" She saw the silvery vein in the wall of stone and realized what had happened. "Oh. Silver…"

Melka suddenly thrust something into her hands, and Yang looked down to see a bottle of…something.

"Drink up. Clear your lungs. Petra is near."

Yang eyed the potion suspiciously, but figured her werewolf physiology would stop any poisons from working on her to great effect. It couldn't, however, stop silver from hurting her. She pulled the cork and drank it down, finding it to be surprisingly neutral despite its look, and soon her lungs and throat felt perfectly fine.

Now they followed after Melka as she came into another chamber, with the man seemingly warning several warriors and another hagraven of their approach. He stopped bothering to explain himself, however, and ran to grab a weapon while everyone else readied themselves for combat.

"Petra, you traitorous grouse! Die!"

"Kill the weakling and her followers!" the other crowed out. "She's too much trouble to keep!"

The half-dozen Forsworn charged them. Uati hurled her spear, catching one in the arm, then backed up as Blake and Yang closed in with the enemies. Blake's Gambol Shroud sliced out at one man in her hands, cutting through his wrists and neck, then she swung it from the ribbon, aiming at the next one behind him who was stunned at his fellow's sudden demise. He went down hardly knowing the cause. Yang bashed one man's skull, knocking him to the floor, senseless, then kneed up into the gut of the next one. As he stumbled back, clutching his stomach, she lifted her foot up and brought it down in an axe kick. A third man flew through the air at her with daggers held in reverse grips, but her fist went out, covered in flames as it impacted him. The small explosion sent him flying and smoldering through the air.

Melka and Petra had been caught in something of a magical duel. Neither Huntress really knew what was going on between them, but there were clearly unfamiliar spells at work. They both seemed to run out of magical power at the same time and charged with their claws bared. The miner tried to run to Petra's aid, but Uati intercepted him, knocking his axe aside before chopping her sword into his gut then slicing it out. The saw-like teeth of the blade pulled his flesh out in chunks, and the man fell to the floor, screaming. Uati seemed to aim for Petra next, and as the hagraven raised a claw to blast her away, Melka grabbed the arm and pulled while raking her claws against the other hagraven's face. Petra screeched, but it was stopped as Uati's sword punctured her side. The forager seemed to be lost on what to do next, but Melka reached over, grasped her hands and the hilt, then shoved the sword further within before twisting it and pulling. Petra lasted a few more seconds before collapsing into a dead heap.

"I spit on you, dead sister," Melka hissed before doing so. Yang grimaced, but then approached.

"Well, that's that then," Yang said, then turned towards Melka. "So, about the briarhearts?"

"Hm, oh yes. You did well. Very good, little nibbles. I will gift you the hearts once they're ready, and my staff. Let's see…" She raised her hand, then something flew out of the corner into it. "Ah, knew it was here. My staff, take it. Kill something pretty with it," she said while offering it. Yang took the implement and looked over it for a minute.

"Huh, check this out," Yang said while passing the staff to Blake. It was mostly wood, with etching up and down the shaft that was glowing with the magic from within. The orb at the head looked like an eyeball, mostly white with a circle of orange surrounding black. Blake observed it for a moment, then the eye moved, looking right at her, and Blake yelped while tossing the staff up. Yang caught it and laughed a little.

"Really Halloween-looking, huh? Let's see…" She focused, and then cast the magic within the staff. A large fireball shot out and zoomed across the chamber, hitting a wall and exploding with enough force to shake the room. Yang had a bright look in her eyes as she looked at the implement with a new appreciation.

"It's a good staff, yes," Melka agreed.

"It is," Yang agreed before looking back at her. "But, uh, we still need that briarheart."

"Yes, of course. Drag these bodies out. We'll need them."


After around an hour of dragging out the corpses of Petra and her co-conspirators, Yang and Blake were treated to the sight of a large gathering of Reachmen of all ages. There was even an old man who ran up to embrace Melka and kiss her deeply, an action neither girl could watch for long before turning away with audible gags. It was a little cute, as old people sometimes were, but it was also completely disgusting as neither of them had had the time to clean themselves, one being caged and the other pining away at the ground level. And of course one of them being a possibly cannibalistic vulture-crone, but that went without saying.

Luckily, both had cleaned up before they started their ceremony. There was a ritual that Melka led a handful of younger hagravens through (one of them wasn't old at all, probably only in her late twenties), which was apparently meant to purify the bodies. They were then taken to special plots of land near some other tree and buried there, with some sort of seed that looked like a miniature version of a briarheart in their chests. Goat and pig blood was then used to water the newly planted seeds, coloring the ground red. A few minutes later, a sapling began growing out of the soil, followed by three others near it. There had been more planted, so it appeared that it wasn't one-hundred percent successful. The saplings that had emerged kept growing until they were full trees just taller than the average man.

Blossoms sprouted from both the new, smaller trees and the main one at the center, which quickly formed the fruits that the two had come to the Reach for. Women with baskets in hand began going around and plucking the new fruit, singing prayers in words the girls didn't understand as drums were steadily beat and men vocalized in the background;

"Fé vældr frænda róge;

fóðesk ulfr í skóge.

Úr er af illu jarne;

opt løypr ræinn á hjarne.

Þurs vældr kvinna kvillu;

kátr værðr fár af illu.

Óss er flæstra færða

för; en skalpr er sværða."

"Well, this is something else," Yang said to Blake quietly, as it seemed from some other people that talking was allowed so long as they weren't talking about the tree tenders. "So, they were fighting over this?"

"About how to do it, is what it sounds like," Blake pointed out. "Of course, we can't be sure they were telling the truth, but…there's not really any way of knowing right now. Uati and Melka said that Petra was planning to ramp it up and go out to find sacrifices rather than wait for people to die from old age or battle." She looked out over the crowd of Reachfolk, particularly looking at the number of children near the back who were playing around more than they were watching the apparently sacred procession. They certainly weren't out and about like this the first time they walked the bridge over their land.

The last of the briarhearts were picked, and the women began making their way back, keeping in step with one another as the drums continued their beating.

"Ræið kvæða rossom væsta;

Zenti sló sværðet bæzta.

Kaun er barna bölvan;

böl gørver mánn fölvan.

Hagall er kaldastr korna;

Aldi skóp hæimenn forna.

Nauðr gerer næppa koste;

nøktan kælr í froste."

A man called out something, the other men vocalizing harsher with him as the tree tenders took up their baskets and set them down before the gathering of hagravens. The two looked at the baskets' contents and almost balked when they saw the briarhearts were actually moving, as though beating like living hearts. The hagravens, for their part, looked over the briarhearts as though to inspect them. One of them picked up one of the fruits and walked over to an altar where a body had just been set. The man seemed to have fallen in battle, given the arrows that were in his chest. They were removed, and a tool was used to carve his chest open, the heart removed and the new one placed inside.

"Ís köllum brú bræiða;

blindan þarf at læiða.

Ár er gumna góðe;

get ek at örr var Malak.

Magne er landa ljóme;

lúti ek helgum dóme.

Struhn er æinendr ása;

opt værðr smiðr at blása."

Everyone was watching now as the men vocalized again. Yang tried to catch it, but it sounded less like they were saying something and more like they were calling out.

"What are they saying?"

"Names of the Old Gods," she heard someone whisper. She turned and saw that it was one of the men she and Blake knocked out on the way in. "The Matriarchs channel the magic, but we need the blessings of the gods for it to work."

Speaking of Matriarchs, the hagravens joined in on the next verse as they stitched the man's chest mostly closed around the protruding bulb. It…wasn't as bad as they had feared.

"Bjarkan er lavgrønstr líma;

Shoor bar flærðar tíma.

Maðr er moldar auki;

mikil er græip á hauki.

Lögr er, er fællr ór fjalle

foss; en gull ero nosser.

Ýr er vetrgrønstr víða;

vant er, er brennr, at svíða."

With the last words, the man took in a breath, his back arching before he flopped back down and sat up. He was looking around himself, as though amazed to be alive once more, then stood to his full height and bowed to the hagravens. The Reachfolk began cheering, their Forsworn warriors rushing in to welcome back their brother-in-arms to the world of the living.

"That was…" Blake started, not sure where to take her thoughts.

"An event?"

"Yeah, we'll go with that."