We interrupt your usual program with some good old side content (had to take a break from the main story at the time of writing :P)
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(General POV)
Far away from a certain cackling elf, across the Jerall Mountains that separated Skyrim from Cyrodiil, and many a moon before he blessed the world with his newest creation, his two apprentices found themselves once again questioning their life choices.
A tall Altmer wearing light armor that could be mistaken for fancy clothing, a slightly glowing lute on his back and an old blade in his hand, followed after a heavily armored Nord woman with slightly pointed ears, her eyes narrowed in a mix of determination and frustration.
"Can you tell me again why we are drudging through yet another cave?" Marco asked sourly but didn't stop following his companion "I thought we came to Cyrodiil for some family secret of yours instead of, you know, hunting down every group of bandits we come across?" Even as he complained his eyes focused firmly on his surroundings, the ancient blade in his hand held firmly in preparation to respond against any threat that might crop up.
"Come on you wuss, you saw how horrified that old woman was. How could I possibly say no?" Minthara huffed insincerely "Besides, being able to earn an honest pay while on the road is the most basic aspect of adventuring!"
"Oh, I see how it is." Marco nodded sagely "You just want to get paid. So much for the great heroine sent forth by the gods!"
"What? That's not-" She stutters indignantly.
"We ran out of the fancy rations yesterday" Marco deadpans, hiding his own frustration "It really isn't that hard to figure out."
The Nord looks away, hiding her embarrassment "It's not my fault that Reyvin refused to let us eat anything that wasn't worthy of a noble's table while we were in Winterhold. My taste buds are forever ruined!"
"Not like having a refined taste is a bad thing" The elf shrugs "Just don't see the reason you feel the need to hide the fact that you are, in fact, doing this for money."
"Maybe I just want to feel good about it?" She rolls her eyes and adds mockingly "Besides, I don't hear you complaining mister "Oh this jerky is too tough!""
"Never pretended otherwise" Marco shamelessly surrenders.
"Of course" Minthara grouses.
"Well well, what do we have here?" The mildly unsettling voice of an older man echoes throughout the cave, the two adventurers immediately moving into a defensive posture as lightly armored figures emerge from many of the hidden crevices of the cave.
"Two little brats on a walk?" The presumed leader of the bandits asks mockingly, his toothless grin making him look almost comical "Or are you here to offer tribute?" A couple of the bandits chuckle maliciously.
"I am afraid not, my good man" Marco offers him a charming smile, immediately catching the attention of all the bandits with his well trained voice and posture "For you see, your pillaging ways have brought all kinds of attention to your head and we, gracious in victory as we are, offer you the chance to surrender peacefully."
"Grehshus?" The bandit boss tilts his head, testing the word a couple more times "You some kind of fancy noble or something?"
"Close enough" Marco nods smugly.
"Tell ya what" The boss points at him "Leave the bitch here and you can leave, I don't need no trouble with nobles." A good half of the bandits make noises that would most assuredly not be acceptable in polite company, one of them even describing what he was going to do... in great detail.
Wordlessly Minthara starts twirling her hammer, her expression the image of good cheer.
"Terribly sorry to say this my good man but I am afraid I cannot do that." Marco shakes his head sadly.
Whoosh
"I am a prideful elf and leaving my fellow to your no doubt great company sits ill with me."
Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh
"And besides" Marco smirks "I'd have to survive the attempt in the first place."
"Umm, boss?" One of the nearby henchmen taps the man's shoulder "I think we might want to move right about now."
Whoosh
"Nonsense!" The bandit leader scoffs "The brats are just being co-" Is as far as he gets before a flying warhammer passes through his head, showering everything around him with red and without slowing down slamming into the wall behind him, cracking it and causing the whole cave to shudder.
"Now then" Minthara cracked her knuckles, the sound being so loud and unsettling some of the bandits flinched backward "Which one of you said they were going to make me squeal?" No one answered "No one?" She asks with a raised eyebrow "I guess I will just have to make sure then."
Many of the unfortunately slow minded reprobates did not catch her meaning immediately, but that was quickly changed as her hands glowed green and blades of wind started flying all across the cave, and then the screaming started.
Her elven companion simply sat down and started playing a tune, attempting to attune it to the pained howling like a complete maniac.
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"Oh thank you, thank you so much!" The old woman grasped Minthara's hands within her own and then quickly moved on to Marco "Finally we won't have to worry about those monsters!"
"Right..." The elf scratched the back of his head "You mentioned a reward?"
The old woman looked away for a moment "Ah yes, about that..."
(One very awkward conversation later)
"Thirteen people dead... for a bag of potatoes..." Minthara stared at the rapidly retreating woman while breathing heavily.
Her head snapped sideways when a hand landed on her shoulder "Come now Minthara, don't shout the farmhouse apart, we don't need that kind of attention."
"Just one whisper and the little shit will learn her place" Minthara mumbles to herself, though loudly enough for Marco to hear her.
"Look at the bright side!" Marco attempts to draw her attention while holding down his panic "The bandits had a couple of gems, that ought to make the trip worthwhile, right?"
She narrows her eyes at him, said eyes notably looking a bit more reptilian than what is usually humanly possible, before she takes a very deep breath and exhales, the tension leaving her "Whatever, not like robbing a poor farmhouse would do us much better."
"See! I knew you would see reason." Marco claps his hands, and then immediately flinches when Minthara narrows her eyes at him, he raises his hands placatingly "What I meant to say is, I am sure our next job will pay far better! Yes, exactly that!"
She stares at him for a while longer "You better be right."
He nods rapidly and only relaxes when Minthara starts walking toward the road, he follows not long after, mumbling to himself about the unfairness of the world but not daring to mention the fact that she was the one who found the job in the first place.
Oh no, he liked his life far too much for that.
Besides, what were the chances that their next job would be as bad as this one?
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(A couple days later)
"Fucking run!" Marco most assuredly did not shriek like a little girl as a bolt of lightning sheared the ancient Ayleid wall just next to his head, the thousands of years old reliefs visibly disappearing before his eyes.
"Gods damn it Marco, you said the tomb was supposed to be empty!" Minthara growls as she too runs after him, triggering traps and dodging them with almost every step.
"How in oblivion was I supposed to know there was another tomb below the original? And since when do the bloody Ayleid have liches?!" He yells back in frustration.
"Everyone has them you idiot!" She yells back, narrowly dodging a trap and blocking another massive bolt of lightning with her magic at the same time.
Biting down a retort Marco cuts down a pair of zombies and ducks behind a pillar, allowing himself a peek at their enemy he quickly jerks back as a spike of ice barely misses his eye "Well excuse me for not spending every waking moment of my life training and reading, I like to live you know!"
"Now is not the time!" Minthara growls and smashes her hammer into the pillar on her side of the chamber, making it fall on the lich and destroy the creature.
The chamber grows quiet and Marco can't help but quip "See, I told you it would be easy!"
The dry look his companion gave him was enough to make him stagger.
And then two more liches barged into the chamber.
Eye twitching and right hand shaking in pure rage Minthara growled "You know what? Fuck this." And took a deep breath.
"Oh no" Marco gulped but it was already too late.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS-!"
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(Three days later)
"I am not paying you." The archaeologist looks at them with pure contempt and disgust.
"You can't do that!" Marco points at him furiously, his clothes still covered in stone dust making him look like a beggar "You told us yourself that the ruins were supposed to be emptied out!"
"And yet you destroyed them like complete amateurs!" The old practically spits out "I sent you in there to find out if any bandits or goblins were squatting not to excavate the entire thing by being idiots!"
"There were six gods damned liches in there!" Marco shrieks.
"Then how are you alive?" The archaeologist looks down at them condescendingly "If you want to make a lie at least make it somewhat beli- UGH!" A fist connects with his face and he falls as if his strings were cut.
Wordlessly Minthara takes the man's purse and starts walking off.
Marco groans "We are so going to get into trouble for doing that."
"He is just some nobody with more money than sense" Minthara shrugs "And I went easy on him, no one will bother chasing us down for him."
Marco groans harder "You just had to say it."
She gives him a puzzled look "What?"
(A couple of hours later)
"Stop right there criminal scum!" A guard points his sword at them "Nobody breaks the law on my watch!"
"Oh." Minthara mutters as she sees the archaeologist surrounded by both legionaries and Bruma guardsmen and pointing straight at them with hate and fury in his eyes.
"Gods fucking damn it!" Marco practically cries as they are forced to run.
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(Four months later, Bruma)
"Finally" Minthara exhales tiredly as she practically smashes the rotting doorway out of her way and enters her ancestral home, and regrets it immediately as a tangible wave of dust is kicked up.
Waving his hand around in an attempt to not choke on the very air Marco follows after her "You know I thought we were done after we finally managed to pay off the Count of Bruma for punching his uncle but them bam! Orcish raid!" He says sarcastically, his expression so dead and tired he looked at least a century older.
"Don't forget the minotaur attacks." Minthara grouses, her hands already searching every nook and cranny she could find, though she fails to stop the unbidden shudder at the memory "They were armed with proper weapons, why couldn't they at least wear a sash?"
Even Marco blanches at that one "What a way to ruin a man's confidence..." He looks into the distance wistfully.
They turn silent as Minthara continues rummaging through her ancestral holding, the ancient house was so well hidden in the poorer parts of the city it somehow avoided anyone finding it for an entire century, resulting in a very thick covering of dust.
So thick in fact that it almost reminded them of the Skyrim snowfall, if only far more filthy.
The moment the connection was made, Minthara's Nordic instincts kicked in and she observed the entire room with far more attention, quickly finding a busted wall in one of the deepest corners of the house and pushing through it with barely any effort.
The rotten wooden stairs creaked ominously as they descended into the basement, their path ending in a tiny room barely large enough to fit five people standing. The room was completely empty save for a small iron plaque hanging off a wall.
With great care Minthara picked the plaque up and cleaned it up with air magic, revealing a carving reminiscent of a map and a small inscription below it no doubt made with magic "My proud descendant, you who seeks the key to both past and future, follow the path to the temple dedicated to the ruler of the clouds and all shall be revealed." Minthara reads aloud.
She stares at the plaque for a silent moment before both her eye and hand starts twitching violently, the tiny slab of iron denting slightly from the force, and then like a dam bursting both of the adventurers start cursing like sailors.
They were nowhere near done.
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A stone to soothe these troubled souls!
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