Dragonborn Saga

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And a robbery it was, forget about punching people down till they submit, Jon just took out his sword and started waving it around like a maniac.

"Ah! This was fun… while it lasted." He said wiping the blood off his body.

"You're in a murderous mood more than usual." Mirren noted.

"You think so too? Well, it is just all nice and dandy as long as we are the one killing them." Jon said as he walked across the bloodbath he made towards the cage he was tossing around, "Barbas Barbas, still not a carcass?"

Kicking the cage, the dog inside of it tried charging at the metal door with its eyes unnaturally red. The moment he bit the steel cage, he could almost break a part of it with its unnatural power but it soon died down.

*whining*

{Argh! My teeth!} Barbas felt like it bit on something that negated his Daedric energy almost instantly which caused it great pain.

"Dare Industries." Jon knocked twice on the cage, "Best in the World."

"My Master will hear of this!"

"Depending on it."

Jon held the cage and tossed it on the side. He then started rummaging through the items which the smugglers had.

"Man, robbing people on the highway can be this fun? It is bringing back some nostalgic memories." Jon said.

"You never robbed people on the road before." Wulfur said.

"Ah! Yeah, but you wouldn't get it. Entering a dungeon and leaving behind a trail of naked bodies, that the loot-everything sect for you back when I was still a noob."

"Hey, look what I found here." Mirren called from the other side of the massacre.

Jon and Wulfur looked at his directions only to find him coming over with a chest putting it down.

"What's that?" Jon asked.

"Don't know. Locked tight, magic sealed, a very masterful lock at that. There are Imperial Insignias all over the chest as well." Mirren said.

"Ah! Locks! Haven't picked those in ages." Jon took out the [Skeleton Key] and with a…

*Click*

"You are an embarrassment to keykind."

The chest was effortlessly opened anyway. What was inside of it was an ancient and bland if not a bit crude cuirass plate armor piece. Mirren also found a note beside the Armor and took it out to read.

"Honored General Tullius, the Imperial Logistics Center in Cyrodiil has split in its opinion to support your plan in order to get closer with the Dragonborn in Skyrim. Whilst the War and the Dragon Crisis, some of us believe it is not the safest of times to bring out the National Treasure of Cyrodiil while others say that in these times of great need is when our treasures are to be put to use. Both the Emperor and the Cult of the Ancestor Moth are in favor of the latter opinion while you can guess how the Synod and the College of Whispers reacted. Here is what it is, the Empire agreed to send the Treasure to Skyrim but for the Love of the Eight, make sure it doesn't get stolen again. Kynareth guides you, H.S."

Mirren handed out the letter to Jon who made sure of its authenticity.

"The Empire's National Treasure? That sounds like trouble." Wulfur said.

"But it was meant to be delivered for our boy here." Mirren pointed.

"If General Tullius was truly thinking of me so sincerely, I think I may actually blush." Jon said and laughed but soon returned serious again, "I feel like we walked in an ambush though."

Hearing Jon saying that, the two looked left and right with their weapons drawn.

"It is a figure of speech, you morons." Jon said.

"Oh!" "Sorry."

"Think about it. Rumors fly around about a Treasure missing in Whiterun. The greediest person in Skyrim, that's me, surely won't resist and come across this sincerely written note and treasure. Now I would start to feel like the Empire is looking out for us dirty poor barbarians in the north." Jon said with a sneer.

"So, what will you do with it?" Wulfur asked.

"What do you think?" Jon asked back.

"Hmm… the armor is ancient, like really ancient. Alessian Empire. It's plate however is a Muscle shaped Cuirass which is pretty different from today's Imperial armors. The quality, on the other hand, is insanely good. Not even Skyforge Steel can damage that." Wulfur's evaluation was both right and scary.

"Such armor? And the Empire was keeping it gathering dust in some vault? No wonder they are a bunch of morons." Mirren said.

"Not necessarily. This armor is cursed." Wulfur added.

"So they are giving us a Cursed Item."

"Nope, I am sure even the Empire with all its might can't remove that curse." Wulfur laughed, "This Armor is only allowed to be used by those who are worthy. Seeing that it has the influence of Kynareth all over it, I am pretty sure you can guess what artifact is this."

Mirren was still confused but Jon bit his lower lip while deeply thinking. If the guess is right then General Tullius and the Empire are desperately sucking out for the Dragonborn.

"We can't still assume that this armor is that thing we have in mind." Jon said.

"What will you do then?" Wulfur asked.

"It is time to activate our Trap Card." Jon's reply sounded confusing at first but he looked at Mirren right away and cleared the confusion, "I am not talking about you this time."

"Oh! Right… good." Mirren nodded, "A change for the better… I guess."

Jon put two fingers on his temples and started casting [Telepathy], in a faraway location someone received his signal.

"Oh, hello there, honey. How are you doing? Just woke up? A girls' night? Tsk, now I am envious. Me? No no no, I was a good boy, totally. Yeah yeah, nothing happened. No drunken rampage, no grand-scale destruction, no siege battle busting, no trail of dead bodies, not even kicking dogs around. Yes, I was a good boy."

Mirren and Wulfur looked at one another and decided to stay clear of Jon once they return to Winterhold… or maybe rat him out before they are suspected to be accomplices.

"Listen, honey, me and the boys were just running around doing absolutely nothing wrong when we stumbled upon this Imperial Treasure that is meant for our dear old Dragonborn. It has the signature of Kynareth all over it. Yes? No no no, nothing happened, nothing of the sort, we just found it minding its business. I think you can help with it, I'll deliver it to you. Great. Oh! Its identity. Hehehe." Jon laughed as he turned around, "I think we just stumbled upon [The Lord's Mail]."

***

After the armor was delivered to Breezehome where Alina would come later to collect it, our three freaks of nature sat outside the Bannered Mare inn.

"Well… we found the Imperial Treasure which was keeping everyone on their toes. What will you do?" Wulfur asked.

"If Alina can lift the restriction on it, we will declare that the Dragonborn is the one who found it. If she can't then it is useless. I'll put it on display anyway." Jon decided.

"What about the Sanguine situation." Mirren asked, "It is morning so people are barely noticing something has gone wrong with their drinks. If the night comes, however, the whole Tamriel will be affected."

"True, we need to solve this quickly." Jon nodded, "I have pulled a few favors in Oblivion and I will secure us a portal to the Myriad Realms of Revelry."

The Myriad Realms of Revelry are the Daedric Realms of Sanguine. Unlike other Princes, Sanguine rules over a large number of small realms instead of one large domain. The number of these mini realms is well over a hundred thousand and they are equipped to satisfy every kind of dark desire.

Sanguine is also known to host the parties of the other Daedric Princes making him extremely popular among the other Princes. He would also throw a party for any reason like the 400th anniversary of Sanguine's dog learning to play dead.

While it is fun and pleasure, the dark side of this Prince is extremely scary since it is diverted from the mind and the pleasures of Mortal. Imagine a serial killing, a molesting, a mutilating or any sort of stomach-turning practice; Sanguine will happily provide and patronize.

Jon and the other two started coming up with various strategies in order to deal with whatever surprise they may come across and waited for a certain individual to arrive. A few hours passed and when the sun started setting, a short woman walked in the inn and looked around. She was wearing too little to call proper clothing but she didn't seem to mind it, her short hair and extensive accessories and makeup made her stand out visibly but she gave off the impression of a witch which is exactly what she is.

However, the moment she saw Jon sitting outside under the shed, she walked to him with a wide smile and showing off her feminine charms. Her short black hair, her scandalous sense of fashion, her black lipstick, her fragrant perfume, it was all just right to give every man looking at her direction quite a "hard" time.

She came forward and stood between Jon and the table as he leaned back to allow her in, just so, she slid between his legs and sat on his left hip sliding with her buttock closer to him. She leaned forward making the scandalous upper garment she wore expose her upper half to only him.

"Well well, if it is not the Whore of Babylon herself!"

"Hmmm… such a flirt." She moaned sweetly and caressed his face with her head like a female animal in the heat, "Champion of Azura, such a pleasure to finally… feel you again."

"Get off!" He coldly spoke, leaking a bit of his Aura on the process.

The oppressive Aura of the Tyrant felt like a bucket of cold water over the head of every single individual who was present in the scene. All the males nearby returned to their senses and the women started glaring between their men and the temptress who just walked in.

"Get out of here, slut. This is no whorehouse!" On top of that, even the innkeeper came to shoo the bitch away with her mop.

"It's alright, Hulda. She's just a courier." Jon said and turned to the temptress, "And we're about to leave."

Seeing how unamused Jon has become, the temptress felt rather tempted herself and walked towards Wulfur and Mirren.

"Do you mind?" She asked.

"Fuck off." Wulfur snorted.

Mirren only raised his middle finger.

It seemed that among all the men in the world, the temptress has run into three of the coldest.

"Don't get them wrong. We are all married men here." Jon said.

"But that never stopped you, Champion of Azura. Your exploits and adventures in our circles are… the talk of Legends." She said as she humbled herself and found an empty seat.

"Who's that?" Mirren asked Jon.

"Don't call me that, sugar. Some call me Mistress, others call Priestess, but my friends can call me Gypsy."

[A/n: Gypsy appeared before the Battle of Winterhold after Jon arrived at Skyrim when he escaped Coldharbour. She was overseeing the Labourer of Sanguine. Also, the word "Gypsy" may refer to the Romany people and also refers to the Free-Spirited Wanderers. I am using the second meaning here so no racism about it.]

Gypsy introduced herself in a self-praising tone fully open about the title of her job as a Priestess of Sanguine. A very dangerous individual with connections in both higher and lower places. She turned to Jon and spoke.

"I have come to escort you to the Myriad Realms of Revelry. Any luggage?" She asked.

"It's just me and the boys." Jon replied.

"Oh! How nice! Having three young and energetic young men raving around the realms is just what we need at the moment." She smiled momentarily while eyeing Wulfur but then her smile went away, "But I am afraid our situation is more serious than what you think. This is a more Work less Pleasure thingy."

"So no boys?" He asked.

"I am afraid so."

"Suit yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"I said suit yourself, I am not going anywhere without my people here. Also, I am not obligated to help in any way. I just wanted to step up and do my civil duty as a hedonist myself but that only happens when I do things on my own terms."

"Fine." She raised her hand dejectedly accepting, "But I am afraid the situation is a bit out of hand."

"Fill us in then." Wulfur asked.

"Alright." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Last night on the Tamrielic scale of time, Lord Sanguine was causing a mess trying to come up with a new liquor. A brew that will make whoever takes a sip drunk forever."

"Forever?"

"Yes."

"With no remedy?"

"It is not that bad if you ask me. Well… there is always a remedy anyway." She said dejectedly, "One of you heroes always rises up and messes things up."

"Always a pleasure." Jon laughed.

"Tsk! I was really looking forward to such a grand liquor. Our Lord called it the Immortal Wine. Of course the prototype was to be experimented on the most tolerant person to Alcohol on Tamriel, that would be you." She said.

"My curse."

"Our scouts have reported a splendid reaction from you to the Liquor but sadly, it wore off quite fast. When we tried to report this to Lord Sanguine, he was out of contact. When we contacted the Daedra in the Myriad Realms of Revelry, they reported that they can't get a hold of Lord Sanguine as well."

"Hmmm… who saw him last?" Jon asked.

"I think the Chief of the Party Bouncers?" Gypsy replied.

"Chief of… Bouncers? I am hardly taking any of this seriously." Wulfur laughed.

"Oh! It is serious, believe me." Gypsy said, "Aside from that fat fuck, the Cheif of the Acrobats said that Lord Sanguine has also met with Lady Vaermina and Lord Sheogorath."

"Huh? Uncle Sheo is involved… well well well, this became so much murderously fun all of a sudden?" Jon rubbed his hand together smiling widely but then his smile froze and he turned back to Gypsy, "Anything else you missed on purpose?"

"N- No!" She felt a certain murderous intent in his words.

"Anything written with fine ink here and there?"

"Nothing, I swear."

"Alright." Jon said and turned away but suddenly turned back to her again, "If I discover that you hid or lied or forgot or whatever happens doesn't match your briefing just now, I will make it very hard for you to walk properly… and yes, this is a dirty threat."

Jon's cold tone caused Gypsy to nod while backing away.

"I'll look forward to it either way." She said with her face flushing red with desire.

Unknown to her, Jon was using [Lust] on her leg where she didn't notice. She didn't lie to him from the start, to begin with.

"Alright, gents. Let's Go to Hell."

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Next 3 Chapters & Discord on: https://linktr.ee/donovel