Rez’Aleem awoke before the sun rose in the sky. Just three weeks ago he had been in his homeland of Hammerfell. He had been there for a little over a year before he received a message from Skyrim asking for his audience in High King Ulfric’s court. He was helping his father walk through some negotiations with a few important people from High Rock. Even with him leaving for Skyrim, the treaty would go through and High Rock would follow suit with Hammerfell and Skyrim. Once the north of Tamriel had left the Empire, a new era would begin. That was not on his mind now. Right now, he was hoping to get some breakfast and prepare himself for the King’s court. Sure, he knew Ulfric, but he did not know Ulfric as High King. Has the title gone to his head? More than likely not. Ulfric felt he was High King long before the Empire had left Skyrim. Officially gaining the title was probably nothing to him.
As it had been on many mornings he spent in Candlehearth Hall, it was dead quiet; a few snores here and there, but silent nonetheless. Rez had always enjoyed that morning silence, a morning after heavy drinking and singing of songs. He opened the door and walked to the closest stool. He ate his breakfast and returned to his room. He had packed the armor that was awarded to him by Ulfric himself. A set of Steel Plate armor fit for the Champion of Skyrim. He only wore it for special occasions because he did not like the haughty dress attire that was normally associated with royals. This way, he always felt ready for battle, even though he preferred light armor. He donned his Steel Plate and exited the Hall. When he entered The Palace of Kings, he was greeted with the roar of applause. It seemed that most of the city and a few high ranking soldiers were inside. Ralof came up to Rez and hugged him strongly. “How are you my friend?”
“Very well my friend,” laughed Rez.
“We have been waiting for you to get out of bed. How did you sleep?” asked Ralof.
“Quite well. The beds in Candlehearth are the best in Skyrim,” said Rez.
Silence filled the hall when everyone heard the sound of a throat being cleared. “Come forward Rez’Aleem, Defeater of the Empire, Slayer of Dragons and Savior of Skyrim. Come and greet me Dragonborn.” Ulfric’s booming voice filled the hall, then slowly echoed off the walls before dying out. Rez did as he was asked. When he was in front of the throne, he removed his helmet and kneeled down. “Rise Dovahkin. We are both friends and equals here. Let me see your face, for it is a good face and one that I have not seen for many days.” Rez did as he asked and stepped closer to Ulfric. “Clear off everyone. I have much to discuss with our friend here and it is not for you ears to hear.” The crowd headed back into town. Signing songs and preparing for a festival in Rez’ honor. All that remained were a few guards and important officials.
“Now my friend, the reason that I sent for you, it appears that someone is trying to disrupt our prosperous, new economy. I received a note from a Breton shopkeeper in Whiterun a few months ago stating that some of his gold had disappeared. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that some of the gold had simply transformed into iron.”
“You’re speaking of Belethor?” asked Rez.
“Yes, I have never been good with names,” stated Ulfric.
“You’ve asked to come here because one man has misplaced some gold?”
“Not just one. In the past weeks, at least a dozen shopkeepers have reported similar problems. I also received word of an Imperial supply caravan being robbed only yesterday. Several large quantities of ore were stolen from this caravan and all the men were killed. Judging by the ore that was stolen, I think our culprit was the one that stole the ore. I have heard stories of mages being able to change certain types of ore into gold. These may be ramblings, but recent events make me think otherwise. Now I have no love for the Imperials, but when the problems come to my home, I start to worry about them.”
Rez took a moment to absorb everything he had just heard. “So, you want me to look into a case that has no real evidence or witnesses? Sounds easy when you put it that way,” Rez remarked.
“I would like you to take this a little more serious Rez. If we are to be brothers-in-arms, we would like to take care of our armies and not worry about where our funding is coming from,” snapped Ulfric. Just then, a messenger burst through the doors of the palace. “Your highness, I’m sorry to interrupt, but a matter to the south requires you immediate attention.”
“Catch your breath boy,” commanded Ulfric. “Now tell me what you have come to say.”
“An Argonian was found in the mountains south of Riverwood. He is still alive, but he seems to be surrounded by some kind of magic rune. He is saying all kinds of craziness, but there are two other men dead near him with large sums of gold in their pockets. We think that they are connected to the caravan robbery yesterday.”
“Do you believe me now Dragonborn?” questioned Ulfric.
“I am still on the fence about all of this, but I will go see this Argonian,” Rez replied. “Lead the way messenger.”
After a few hours ride on horseback,Rez, along with the messenger and few Stormcloaks for protection, arrived. Rez dismounted his horse and approached the Argonian. “Stay back,” hissed the Argonian. Rez did as he said and tried to observe as much as he could from a distance. When he saw what little he could see, he began to question the Argonian. “What is your name?”
“Geer-Za,” he gasped.
“How did you come to be in this place?”
“My partners Tobias and Bones came here to meet our employer. We had robbed a caravan yesterday afternoon and we walked here from Cyrodil.”
“You made it passed the border guards? That’s impressive.”
“Not really,” laughed the Argonian. “They were asleep in the barracks by the gate.”
“At least you are keeping your sense of humor through this. I will have to tell the King about the guards,” noted Rez.
“We were told to meet him just passed the third road sign. We would make the exchange and then we would hide out here and set up our business.”
“Thievery and murder are not looked upon highly in Skyrim. In fact, they are not looked upon highly anywhere.”
“We figured that Ulfric would like to hear that we had killed a few legionnaires.” Everyone shared a brief laugh at that statement. Then Rez returned to the matter at hand.
“Who was your employer?”
“A demon.”
“You were contracted by a Daedra?”
“No. Maybe. He was definitely a vampire and something else. His face…” The Argonian winced with pain and his stomach rumbled loudly. “Look what he did to me?” screamed the Argonian. “My mind is full of memories. His memories. I see a great battle at Red Mountain. I can see a sea of golden faces changing. All of them falling to the ground and rising with ash colored skin. But he did not change. Instead his memory goes black and goes to another where he is fighting an endless battle, surrounded by blackness. Then, he appeared hear, near Windhelm somewhere. What does it all mean?”
“I’m not sure. Are you taking all of this down?” Rez asked of the messenger.
“Yes Dragonborn,” replied the messenger.
“You are the Dragonborn?” asked the Argonian. “I thank you for saving us. I may have been in Cyrodil while you were fighting the dragons, but I understand that what you did was for all of Tamriel.”
“Your thanks is unnecessary, but you’re welcome. Now, what else can you tell me.”
“He wore dark armor with a red glow. It may have been of Daedric make.”
“Most definitely. What else?”
“After he bit me, I can’t remember much. These memories started hitting me.” Everything fell silent for a few seconds. “Wait, there was something else. Before he disappeared, he did something with some of the ore. He changed it somehow, changed it to gold.”
This set uneasy with Rez. Just this morning, Ulfric had told him something similar, but he had all but written it off as nonsense. Now fantasy seemed to be absolute truth. “What do you mean he disappeared?” added Rez. “In what direction?”
“That’s just the thing. He was gone. He never walked away, he just vanished. Now please, may I make a request? Please kill me.”
“What? I need to take you in for questioning as soon as I can figure out how to do that. Are any of you able to make this man levitate?” Rez asked his companions. All of them shrugged and replied no.
“Didn’t you hear me? I am like him now. He changed me. If you do not kill me, I will move and do it myself.”
“Why do you wish for me to kill you?”
“Because you are Dragonborn. I would rather die by your Thu’um than by that monster’s hand. Now please, end it.”
Rez could see the agony in the Argonian’s eyes. He thought briefly on it and nfinally gave him an answer. “Geer-Za, I will give you the death that you seek. Before you leave this world, I would like to thank you for the information that you have given us and I promise you that I will find this vampire and kill him. Would you like me to deliver his head to Black Marsh?”
“That is kind of you sir. What is your name?”
“Rez’Aleem of Hammerfell.”
“As I was saying Rez’Aleem, that is kind, but I would rather you burn his body to dust and remove him from this world.”
Rez kneeled as close to Geer-Za as he could and bowed his head for a moment. Rez' companion followed suit. When he rose to his feet, he drew in a deep breath and let out a loud shout.
Fus Roh Dah!
With that, the rune exploded and burned the Argonian’s body away, but he died by the impact of the shout. All fell silent for a moment and Rez’Aleem turned inward. That is the first person I have killed in a year. With that thought, he solemnly turned his gaze down the mountain towards Riverwood and stared blankly for what seemed like forever.
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