For Marcurio, the old house was home. No matter how much time he had spent in Skyrim, Cyrodiil was where he wanted to come back to. Maybe he could even get Siofra to come South for a while. His parents had been ecstatic to see him, welcoming him back into the house and doing a good job of not prying too much into what he had been up to.
His mother had kept his old room decent, even though he had moved out nearly a decade ago, but he welcomed the hospitality. Arranging a meeting with Amaund Motierre was taking time; even with his father using East Empire Company contacts. Marcurio wasn't even sure how Motierre would react to whatever Siofra and Mephala were trying to convey. It probably wasn't good for anyone involved, including himself. Every day was spent going to the White-Gold Tower and petitioning with various underlings and politicians: he wasn't there on terribly important business, according to them, so he could afford to wait.
The waiting, nearing a week, had given Marcurio time to think about what he should do next? Stay here? Return to Skyrim? He felt he would go back to help Siofra, even though it had been made clear that she didn't want him around the Stormcloaks. Considering everything that was going on, he felt that a return to Riften would be in order, and the idea of the Dawnguard was appealing. He had survived vampires before, so working with professionals would be even better. If he met up with Siofra, all the better.
Finally, the day came when he was allowed to see Motierre. The councilman was in his mid-to-late forties, tired looking, and tense.
"What?" Motierre grumbled. Marcurio produced the letter; he felt the buildup was spoiled by the sight of the slightly crumpled paper. Marcurio was in his finer clothes, clean shaven and bathed, all to get a man to read a note.
Motierre glared at the letter. "What is this?"
"It's from an associate of mine, from Skyrim. She, in turn, got it from a...person...of large importance." Marcurio had rehearsed the line a bit, but it was enough to make Motierre curious. The man broke the seal and skimmed the page, stopped, read more intently, then slammed the paper on his desk.
"What kind of joke is this? Do you realize how dangerous it was to bring this in here?" Motierre shouted, spit flying from his lips. Marcurio stood his ground, but was greatly confused. Motierre read the letter again and laughed condescendingly. "This is...this is pathetic. You and your friend must be trying something, or is someone here paying you to make a fool out of me?"
Marcurio started to explain, but felt a chill settle on him; not just bodily, but in his core. The warp in reality quality was something he had begun to associate with the Daedra; and he didn't have to guess who might be reaching out to them. While Marcurio didn't hear anything, Motierre seemed to be having an experience. The man was shaking, staring blankly into the distance. His knuckles were white from clutching the desk, and he'd gone ashen. After a minute, the feeling passed, and Motierre slumped into his chair.
"Y-y-you. Leave. Don't come back here." He pointed a nervous finger at Marcurio, who backed away quickly and almost sprinted out of the room. His curiosity at what the letter contained was beaten by his fear of what Motierre might do if angered further.
Getting back to Windhelm had been a triumph for all four of them: the return trip across the ice had been met with something breaking the ice from underwater near them, but not directly engaging them; another half-blizzard and night spent around the fire in Winterhold's inn; the march back to Windhelm with ice forming on their eyelashes and coating their clothing.
Galmar had already returned to the city by the time they had gotten there, and had solemnly made them take an oath to the cause. Siofra had repeated the words tersely, binding herself to another group. Galmar had seemed satisfied, even triumphant about her "conversion".
She had been graciously offered some beds in the guard barracks, to be rested for when she was assigned to someplace else the next day. The other three had left the Palace of Kings, and it had taken a moment for her to remember that they all lived in Windhelm; she was alone with the guards. Siofra woke periodically, usually when there was a guard change, and eventually just got up and, feeling rested enough, went was late, past midnight; quiet and cold. The air was very still, and Siofra sat on a low stone wall, listening to the stillness. She didn't pray as often as others did; Mora didn't really require worship beyond obedience, but she did pay homage to Diabella on the regular.
It had always confused her about why the Reachmen had taken up Diabella as a goddess: was it just a transfer from one of the old fertility goddesses, or maybe they had really been moved by the "love, friendship, and art" philosophy. That's what she had been taught: love the family, cherish friendship, create beauty. The Reachmen had put their own spin on it all, and the Forsworn would argue about the use for art, but the family ties and loyalty was their love. Honestly, Siofra hadn't felt the need to worship until she'd gotten to Falkreath and the old graveyard caretaker, Runil, had suggested she find some path beyond money and solitude.
Bringing kids into her home, building the house itself and decorating it had made her feel closer to what Diabella stood for; and that family she had made for herself was what Siofra focused on in her prayers.
But Siofra was practical, so the blessing that Diabella bestowed on her followers had also drawn Siofra in; the Reachwomen who had been their shamans hadn't really talked about that part, it seemed to be a more Eight or Nine Divines thing, not hedge magic. Hircine was more important to the Forsworn than what the Imperials thought the Aedra did.
"Uncle, I'm tired, please, we've gone over this twice." Kjild yawned, rubbing his eyes. Haarik glanced at his nephew, then to his niece, who was passed out in her chair, snoring softly. He had had them recounting their trial, going over what they should've done better and asking about Hanne and Siofra's performance. Overall, he was proud; his sister had gone South with her husband as defenders for a few merchants, long retired for any sort of active duty. The kids were in his care and lived in his home, given to him by Ulfric as a boon for becoming Thane.
"I wanted you to see what you could've done better."
"Not much different we could've done," Kjild muttered, "It would've taken a week if we went back to Windhelm to get a boat and tried to navigate the ice, then get back…"
"Sometimes you need to take a little more time." Haarik responded, sighing and leaning back. "What were you saying about the talking wall?"
"Well, it wasn't talking to us; I think you're the only one they'll do that for. But, if you wanted to see it, the tomb is cleared out." Kjild was slurring he was so tired.
"Okay, help me get your sister to bed. We'll finish talking about the walls tomorrow…"
"Do you know where I'm being assigned?" Kjild perked up a bit. Haarik shook his head.
"Can't tell you; but Jarl Ulfric is asking that you and I join him in the war room tomorrow morning. There's something very important to discuss." Haarik stood, patting Kjild's shoulder and trying to rouse Ane. Kjild gave him a questioning look, but didn't say anything more, and stood to help Ane.
Siofra remained outside until around dawn, when she was thoroughly chilled to the bone and hadn't moved for an hour. In the barracks, a guard stopped her and said Swift-Wing had been looking for her just a bit ago.
She was directed back to the war room, where Haarik and Ulfric were waiting, along with Kjild in the corner, his face a quiet mask. As always, there was a map on the table showing military camps, outposts, forts, the towns and cities, and now a few new spots, which only Siofra really understood the importance of.
"We have the opportunity to sweep up Falkreath and the Reach in a single campaign. We need to reestablish a camp in the Reach, because, certain circumstances have prevented us from staying there long." Siofra didn't react as Haarik started talking, watching her closely.
"These are all Forsworn camps, which, if we can wipe them out, will turn the population of the Reach to our side, which may sway Igmund." Ulfric explained.
Siofra gave him a skeptical look. "Who told you where these were?"
"Why should that matter? Just tell us about the numbers and-" Haarik started.
"These aren't all military camps!" Siofra snapped, "Whoever you got your information from lied to you. These camps have families in them, and these," she pointed to a few markers deeper in the Druadach Mountains, "These are just Reachmen villages, not even related to the Forsworn." She paused and glared at Ulfric. "Were you actually going to kill more innocent people?"
Ulfric frowned, but didn't answer. Kjild was staring, confused.
"I assume you asked me here so I can help you plan an invasion? Ulfric, you won't be able to hold the Reach at this point! I don't need to be one of your advisors to see that!"
"You're correct." Ulfric paced the room. Siofra shut her mouth tightly.
"Good to know." She crossed her arms and jerked her head at the map. "Without a proper standing force and between Forsworn, Imperials, and Thalmor, it's not looking good. Your army is little more than groups of brigands, causing trouble in the wilds."
Haarik pointed to a fort in the Southern Reach. "What about this? Could we take Fort Sungard and set up there? We know the Forsworn hold it." He seemed determined, along with Ulfric, to ignore her insults about the army.
Siofra shrugged. "I've never been there; if you feel like trying to, there's not much I can help you with. Even if you did take it, the Imperials could easily force you out. Reinforcements from Cyrodiil, Haafingar, Hjaalmarch, and Falkreath...you'd do better to focus on getting a better place in each of the holds, one that won't attract attention like a fort."
"We've tried to figure that out, but there's no place to keep a hundred men that won't alert the Imperials and keep them warm in the winters." Haarik shook his head, "And besides, that's not your concern."
"I'm not going to be able to take a whole contingent into the Reach; the only thing more noticeable than Imperial armor is the bright blue Stormcloak colors, and how would even a dozen of them last?" Siofra put her hand over her face. "It's a suicide mission."
They all went silent, mulling over ideas. Kjild cleared his throat and stood.
"Siofra, the Forsworn live pretty comfortably in Nordic ruins, don't they?" He asked, hesitantly.
"No, that's a bad idea." Haarik growled, "The draugr would kill the men before we had a chance-"
"It could work." Ulfric sighed heavily, "I don't like the idea much myself, but we're in the dead of winter and we do need a place to amass more soldiers for battle in each of the holds. Not to mention most everyone avoids the old ruins."
"They're perfectly fine if you clear them and patch them up; and if you don't go too deep into the larger ones." Siofra was already studying the map. "If I had my map with me…"
Kjild went to another table and pulled a roll of paper out, bringing it over. Siofra could see it was a reproduction of her own map.
"Shouldn't have put it past you to go through my things." She said under her breath.
"The ring from Falkreath is a nice momento." Haarik replied, "Won't hold much weight here."
Siofra looked at him darkly but returned to the maps. Ulfric was already indicating a location, waiting for her to pay attention.
"Here." His finger was placed South of Morthal, among the mountains between the Hjaalmarch and Whiterun Holds.
"That's Labyrinthian…" Haarik answered.
"That's a dangerous place." Siofra confirmed, brows furrowed. "Besides, the ruin is rumored to be locked. I've not been inside anything there."
"There's other ruins in there, correct?" Ulfric pressed on.
"Yes…"
"Can we get into them?"
"Probably." Siofra glanced at Haarik. "You and I are probably the most experienced in the tombs. Would it be difficult?"
"I don't know." Haarik grunted. "You might need several people to clear it out."
"At least keep it considered." Ulfric ordered. "What about in Whiterun? Where's the best there?"
"Dustman's Cairn." Haarik answered reluctantly, after a long silence, marking the replica map, "I know it's cleared, from my time with the Companions. There were...bandits living inside, quite happily."
"Perfect." Ulfric motioned to Falkreath.
"You said you went through a ruin with vampires?" Kjild said to Siofra.
"It's directly over Falkreath proper. There's a fort in the mountains that also had vampires, which would be less obvious. Both of them are probably a little too...blood-filled to be comfortable, and the fort is pretty open to the elements." Siofra explained, "I would suggest Knifepoint Ridge, since everywhere else is either too close to Helgan, and maybe that dragon, or still occupied." She shook her head. "You can't take the Fort Neugrad with the Imperials sending a full force back."
Haarik and Ulfric both made faces at the mention of the dragon. It might've gone away, but that area had a certain repelling feeling now. Fort Neugrad also seemed out of the question.
"Is the Ridge defensible?" Ulfric found the spot with Kjild's help.
"Yes, and it has buildings already in place. High up on a hill."
"Good."
"Haafingar and the Reach…" Kjild murmured.
"Well, how would you feel about a Daedric shrine?" Siofra asked hesitantly, "It's Merida; but the place is a mess, filled with bodies…"
The men made more faces. Siofra took it as a no, but there weren't too many other options.
"Obviously I haven't been along the coast up there, but I think, maybe, there is another place there." That got a more favorable response, but there wasn't much more to go on.
"We'll have to scout the area out more." Ulfric concluded. "Finally…"
Siofra shook her head. "The Forsworn have the best ruins; there's some empty ones, but we avoid them. Old magic, very bad old magic."
"I think Sungard is still our most viable option." Haarik insisted. "And I've heard there are a lot of Dwemer ruins out there; we've considered some of them here in Eastmarch, for emergencies."
The men didn't get any reaction from Siofra, whose face was stony and her knuckles were white. After a few deep breaths, she spoke.
"I don't have any experience with them." She said tersely, relaxing. Kjild, untrained as he was, could see the lie as easily as Haarik and Ulfric. Something about her face warned them of asking anything more.
"I'm opposed to this idea." Haarik said, jaw tensed. "We don't need to be sleeping next to the corpses of our ancestors; defiling the tomb. We shouldn't have to hide in the relics of our past in our own land!"
"Mmm." Siofra stared Haarik in the eye, and he shut up.
"Fine; if the Forsworn can do it, we can, too." He growled. "But we need a spot in the Reach."
"We'd need to be there." Ulfric decided, "Siofra, you'll have to guide..."
Siofra didn't argue. "I know. I do need to ask; have you considered places to retreat to, in the Holds that have sided with you? The chance that the Imperials take Dawnstar or Riften isn't that farfetched."
"Only the Dwemer ruins in Eastmarch." Ulfric admitted. The possibility of losing ground was not a tasteful subject. "We'd have to see what meager offerings Winterhold has; the glaciers are barren wastes, as I'm sure you know."
"The Rift has a certain...impenetrable air of mystery. There's certainly a place, somewhere, should we try to venture into the deeper valleys." Haarik's eyes were closed, and he spoke in a wistful manner.
"Again, Snow Veil Sanctum, in Winterhold and not far from here, has been confirmed as cleared…" Kjild said, sounding more sure in the suggestion.
"That would work." Haarik opened his eyes and nodded. "And the Rift?"
Siofra and Kjild shrugged.
"There's a whole valley behind Riften and towards the South that I've...avoided. There's bad magic there." Siofra shook her head. "It can't just be the ones in this room trying to search out locations; Ulfric, you should send people out, not to set up a camp, but to just see if there are any places."
Siofra backed away from the table as Ulfric and Haarik began taking logistics. She sidled up to Kjild, whispering, "You've got a talent for persuasion."
"Not as talented as you. I've been watching, since it's not directed at me; you don't even need to speak to sway them." He sounded awestruck. "To them it must look like you're quietly thinking about something, but I can tell you're doing two things at once…" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, side-eyeing her. "Why haven't you done this before?
"Done what?"
"Get close to someone powerful and bend their will."
"Kid, honestly, I've only recently gotten this good; before it was more hit and miss." That was true. Her powers were definitely related to becoming an Agent of Nocturnal, all that time ago. They both returned their attention to Haarik and Ulfic, who had come to an agreement.
"We'll be going through with this plan." Haarik said, sounding more sure about it than before.
"My Jarl, is there a way for me to talk to whoever gave you the Forsworn camp locations?" Siofra suddenly asked.
"Why?" Ulfric's mouth twitched, a smile.
"To see what their purpose was. We've decided on an entirely different direction, but for what reason we're you being led into the Reach?" Siofra answered, their knowledge of her nature betraying what she had planned: retribution for the innocent villages being offered as war targets.
"In the dungeon."
The freezing, three day march to Morthal left everyone irritable. The two dozen men and women they had as an advanced party were all quick to snap and argue. Another group of soldiers was a day behind them, but the idea was for the first group to clear out a place in Labyrinthian, and the second would establish a better camp.
Haarik grimly surveyed the area; some dead trolls, three injured men, and a large expanse of ruins to search through. A few Stormcloaks were up checking a giant set of doors, another set scouting out two other possible ruins.
His niece and nephew were with the remaining soldiers, setting up a temporary shelter. The Redguard, Hanne, was with them, looking around distastefully.
Haarik was really searching for Siofra's shorter frame in the gusts of snow. The entire march, she had been ahead with two other scouts: watching the road and running back to let them know about obstructions, and twice hunting down food for them. In these meaner times, the other Stormcloaks had started to accept her presence. And of course, a false tale of Siofra's conversation with the spy back in Windhelm had been spread and distorted in the week it took them to organize at Kastav; so now, the newest version had her eating the still-beating heart in front of their informant as he died, after a day long interrogation.
And she thought it was funny. What had actually happened was Siofra and the man had spoken in the Reachman tongue, and she had declared him a Thalmor spy. It had only taken around ten minutes, and Haarik had finally, properly observed her powers of influence over another. The spy had been left staring blankly into space. Ulfric ordered the man killed, growling, "I won't have Thalmor in my hold."
Then Siofra had slain him, thrusting her dagger into his chest: swiftly and forcefully.
Now, she poked her head out of one of the ruins, catching Haarik's eye and walking back inside. He trudged over and stepped into a roomy space, following the curve of the structure into the inner room. A strange shrine stood, old and crumbled. There was a skeleton lying at its base. Siofra had a strange look on her face, holding something out to him.
"You should have this." He took it from her: it was a wooden mask, and when he touched it, he felt a humming power.
"What is it?" He turned the mask over in his hands. Siofra shrugged.
"Put it on, or not. Do we have a ruin to delve into, yet?" She started to shift his attention.
"Hold on; you can't just give me some weird artifact then change the conversation."
"The mask doesn't concern me anymore, it's meant for you." Siofra crossed her arms, "You wouldn't believe anything I told you until you try it on yourself."
Haarik didn't like the gaze she had; unblinking and level, with what he considered a sinister edge. Uneasily, he placed the mask on his face, starting as it seemed to meld onto his features. Through the eye slits, the world blurred and reformed, the air suddenly warm and balmy. Everything was suddenly new; a shelf, chest...the shrine. There were nine busts, eight of which were smaller and flanked a larger one. Each smaller bust had runes scratched under them, which he couldn't read, but had seen before.
Haarik ripped the mask off and experienced the world churning again. He was back with Siofra, in the Skyrim he knew.
"Strange, isn't it." She said.
"What the hell was that?" Haarik growled, waving the mask at her. She shrugged. "Why did you say I should have this!"
"Because it's an artifact, a powerful one, too, and I don't want it. Which itself is odd enough; I'm sure Jarl Ulfric would be very interested in it." This didn't convince Haarik, but someone was calling for him outside, so he halted the conversation. He stalked out and found the troops returned from their searches.
"Sir, we found a possibly good ruin." A soldier reported. "If the histories are correct, it's Valkygg; a lost ancient settlement."
"Not very lost…" Haarik heard Ane mutter.
"I want to rest a bit, then we'll decide who's going in." Haarik ordered. The soldiers agreed, but it was obvious that the idea of going into their ancestors' tombs, and probably facing the dreaded draugr, was not a popular idea. Siofra's swiveling head caught Haarik's attention.
"What?" He snapped. She frowned and didn't answer immediately, just looked over at the other ruin they had decided against.
"Is that the actual labyrinth?" She asked casually, head tilted to the side.
"Yes; don't go anywhere near it, we need everyone ready for Valkygg, since you're definitely coming in with us." Haarik placed a hand on her back and steared her towards the quickly appearing temporary camp. He felt her sharply jerk away, but continued walking; she shrunk a bit, shoulders slumping. He forgot about the reaction within moments as the hectic rush to prepare weapons and armor consumed his energies.
Within an hour, everyone was too restless to wait around longer. Haarik stood, and motioned to four separate Stormcloaks; three men, one woman. "You four are with me and the elfing; we're leading. Everyone else, wait twenty minutes then send eight more in after us. Keep ten out here to guard." There was a flurry of movement as everyone prepared. Siofra stood silently next to him, bow in her hand and face distinctly unhappy.
"Yes?" Haarik muttered, not turning to face her.
"There's a good chance some of them are going to die…"
"They know that."
"Do you?"
"What do you mean?" Haarik stiffened, pretty sure what she meant.
"Are you prepared to die in a cold, dark place; away from your home and family, and for a cause…" She stopped the last bit, possibly sensing his anger.
"I made my peace with that possibility years ago." He answered, then walked away to join the group forming at the entrance of the ruin. Siofra trailed after, sullen.
"We ready?" One man asked. Haarik nodded and pushed the ancient iron door open.
Within the ruin, they didn't face the overwhelming odds they had been dreading. In fact, this place was rather calm. Even with Siofra and Haarik purposefully being as loud as could be, to ensure everything within had awaken, they only had one casualty. One of the men hadn't paid enough attention to where he was walking, and triggered a poisoned dart trap. He lived, but Haarik ordered him to remain in a cleared room for the backup group.
It was rightly so that Siofra and Haarik were leading; their ears were sharper, eyes more able to pierce the darkness. The musty smell of ancient death overwhelmed the others.
Eventually, they reached an end to the tomb, with only a deep shaft, broken up by wooden beams, into the ground to suggest a further path.
"Are we done?" The woman asked.
"No, there's something moving down there…" Haarik was listening intently, eyes unfocused. "There's no clear way back up, so we shouldn't go down."
"Did we bring any rope?" Siofra asked, crouching next to the shaft. "These beams aren't completely rotted. Might be able to use them."
"Are you volunteering?" Haarik glanced at her.
"We would be able to lift her out, if needed." One of the remaining men laughed.
"Let's see what it is first, then decide." Haarik continued to be the voice of reason. He picked up an old piece of pottery and dropped it down the shaft, listening to it shatter below. Soon after, they all heard a raspy growl and shuffling feet.
"Draugr." He confirmed. "Do you want to wait for the others and bring back rope?"
Siofra stood, taking her bow and quiver off, along with her head shawl and a few layers of furs. "I'll go down now; that should lighten the load, if I do need lifted out." She check that her blade was secured.
They all backed away from the shaft, aside from Haarik, who now kneeled on the ground and watched Siofra clamber down the beams, dropping from each carefully. She got to the second from the bottom and paused, listening, like Haarik was, for where the Draugr was. It was clear and she slipped to the ground, silently.
Darting out of view for a second, she reappeared after a horrific gurgling growl.
"All clear. There's a door that leads out. Don't know where it'll lead to, so I'll wait for the rope and someone else can explore." She winked and disappeared again.
After about an hour, they'd finally gotten a rope securely, maybe, attached to a beam, and Haarik went down after Siofra, bringing her stuff with him. She was sitting on a pile of rubble, eyes closed and breathing slowly.
"Are you asleep?" Haarik tapped her foot with his own. One of those sharply blue eyes opened and closed again. She rolled her neck and shoulders, waking up.
"Power nap; tomb raiding is a lot of work." Siofra took her things from him and redressed.
"We're going to see where the exit goes, then head off to Dustman's." Haarik went towards the door. He heard her groan and follow behind him.
"So, you're going to drag us around, but we can't help clear the tombs?" Ane frowned, walking next to her uncle.
"Yes. You know why; you three aren't just numbers in an arms count. The entire point of letting you three join up was because you're unassuming. Legionnaires won't see Stormcloaks, just a ragtag group trying to make a name for themselves."
"Maybe that's what you want Hanne and I to do; but Kjild has gotten a lot more instruction than me." She frowned even more.
"He actually listens when I speak; good spies actually observe, not just pretend." Haarik made a dismissive gesture and Ane stopped asking questions, just simmered in a low rage.
Several yards back, Kjild and Hanne, having caught snippets of the conversation, looked at each other.
"You really are a good spy." Hanne muttered.
"Good thing; I'm not a good fighter." Kjild muttered back. True enough; he could swing a weapon as needed. Otherwise, he used other kinds of weapons against people. Haarik had started his spying training two years ago, after Kjild had found some Legionairre infiltrators in Windhelm, and, instead of just killing them like the guards were apt to do, he stole their orders and found out what they had already sent back to General Tullius. Karl Ulfric had been grateful for this, as it gave them a chance to retaliate in kind.
"Why do you think we were brought along?" Hanne asked, looking at the ground as they walked through the mountain pass. The tundra was visible on the horizon; a wide white plain, with some moving dots that were probably mammoths.
"As my uncle said, we're unassuming. The point of dragging half the army across Skyrim is to create a better network of areas we control. There's going to be a point where we'll have to meet with other people, not just skirting the countryside. That's our job; Swift-Wing can't just walk into Solitude and ask around for old tombs and forts."
"But why can't we be doing that before everyone else gets into the area? It would go faster-"
"We're also supposed to be some kind of control for Siofra." Kjild said this darkly, like he didn't really believe that as the explanation. "Swift-Wing told me that we can manipulate her, probably. I don't know how."
Hanne sighed. "I feel bad that no one trusts her."
"Why?" Kjild glanced over.
"I can just...tell that she's trying so hard to prove something. I know the feeling."
"Hey, you don't have to prove anything anymore; the people who matter accepted you." Kjild growled. Kjild and Ane had known Hanne for years, and had stuck together through very tough times. The only other person Kjild and Ane trusted more was Haarik.
"But still; I do agree with Ane. If they aren't going to send us to the cities, they should at least let us help more." Hanne perked up. "We're going to be into Whiterun soon."
"Finally."