I, Draugr Chapter 11 (Patreon)

"You have a request for me?" I parrot, mostly out of pure surprise and disbelief, as I stare at the pitch black cat sitting on the table before me.

Said cat nods while absentmindedly licking his paw, "Not just me. Some of the other Daedric Princes will surely have requests for you in the future. And of course, there will be rewards."

"Be it valuable information that some would die for, or tools that can assist you and your friend. Or even Artifacts." The powerful voice coming from the cat drawls out, and I find myself a bit… enticed, I'll be fair.

Anything that I can gain when I have nothing against a horde of Dragons is always very welcome.

Especially the chance of gaining a possible Daedric Artifact.

Still- "Any reason behind this… peculiar interest in me?" I have an inkling, but I'd rather be certain.

The cat's glowing blood red eyes turn to burn holes through me, "You are… an Anomaly. And quite peculiar."

"Usually, aside from Cults or certain Rituals, us Daedric Princes rarely interact directly with Nirn-" Aside from when Mehrunes Dagon tried to destroy it and ended up catching hands from Akatosh himself. "-but you are clearly an outsider. From out of this Reality."

"You appear within the blink of an eye out of nowhere, with a Soul far more voracious than the Souls of Dragons themselves. Interacting with you, and through you, is a way for us Daedric Princes to take care of… annoying issues."

Ah, so they basically want me to be their errand boy on Nirn because they cannot directly act without breaking some sort of rule, or something like that.

"Then I presume there is an issue you wish to be taken care off?" The cat nods, somehow boring a very… furious expression on its face.

"I pride myself in being fair to my followers. If one dislikes bearing Lycanthropy, they can gain a chance to be free of it. The mentality I share with my followers if one shared by a pack of wolves."

"The strong rule, the weak follow, and the children are protected… And yet, recently I have been made aware of a group of Werecrocodiles that have made hunting the children bearing Lycanthropy for sport."

I find my hand tightening around my staff, a surge of emotions I haven't felt in a long while surging up within me.

Are you fucking kidding me? Making hunting children a fucking sport?! How sickening do you need to be to go ahead and do that!?

"I could do this for free." I nearly growl out, but force myself to quench my emotions as Hircine chuckles coldly.

"Do feel free on making them beg for death. They are a group of five Argonians working as Mercenaries and should arrive in Falkreath by week's end." So in about five days… Gotcha.

I know Aurelia will want to come with me to deal with this, which I don't really mind.

Anything of value near or around Falkreath though? Could make a quick stop before returning to Whiterun to get some stuff.

Maybe Halldir's Cairn? Could do well to get rid of that fucker while we're at it.

"As for the rewards… I can give you one of my greatest hunters, to Conjure and command whenever you see fit." Hircine hums in thought, before tilting his feline head to stare towards the ceiling, "As for the Dragonborn, if she takes part in doing this favor for me, I could give her one of my less useful Artifacts. Perhaps an armor, since hers has been broken." Oh? The Savior's Hide?

That could be useful to have for Aurelia until we get something that far outclasses it.

Plus, having a personal and powerful summon from Hircine is also quite enticing for me.

Still, these 'mercenaries' are going after the children, meaning that Lycanthropy can be passed down to one's children.

Doesn't sound nice, but for those that worship Hircine and are happy with the curse, they surely won't have a problem passing it down.

Plus, as the Daedric Prince just told me, those who wish to leave can be tested and can escape the curse.

"I guess we have a deal." There is no real reason to refuse such a good thing. Plus, it will only help keep me in good favors with Hircine for taking care of this issue for him. "Consider me available for any future requests too. I'll never turn down a good reward." And a chance to yoink some Souls from some bastards.

Hircine chuckles good-naturedly, "I fear the consequences that will come if I were to try and hog your services all for myself." Just what is Sheoggorath threatening them with-

Actually, never mind. I don't wanna know.

I'd probably use the most outta-pocket and horrifying threat I could think of to make a literal Reality Bending being fear me.

And Sheoggorath will back those threats up. He is literally all 'Fuck around, find out, and amuse me'.

"I presume Meridia's request is among the lines of 'Kill yourself!', or something." Hircine snorts and turns his gaze away.

"She has been trying to maim Arkay for blessing you, so…" These Daedric Princes are fucking hilarious. I'm already liking them.

Aside from Molag Bal. Fuck that guy.

I notice Hircine perk up, gaze flicking towards the ceiling once more, "I shall take my leave now." The powerful voice rumbles out softly, "I will come before you once more when my request is fulfilled." Don't worry, I'll make sure to brutalize those twisted fucks.

With those last words, the cat just… disappears, like it was never there.

No sound, no smoke, no nothing. Just gone in a blink.

Creepy.

I hum, then reach behind myself and to the belt keeping my robes mostly tight around my form, then yank the small pouch given to me by Aurelia before we started riding back to Whiterun.

Opening it reveals the dusty Jagged Crown. You better bring in a lot of money, else I'm just chucking you into a goddamn ditch.

Or use you to beat up Nazeem. Whenever he comes back.

"Leo?" A cute yawn drags my attention away from the dusty crown and towards Aurelia, who is wrapped up in a fluffy white robe that exposes a bit of her long legs and plenty of her cleavage.

You tryna tempt me into sin, woman?!

"Going to sleep?" I ask, and Aurelia nods cutely while rubbing her closed eyes. "Then go ahead, I'll go off to take care of some stuff."

She nods again and turns away, "Don't beat anyone up." She drawls out while walking off towards her room.

I snort and shake my head, then stand up and stash away the now closed pouch. Might as well go and find the Merchant Guild to see if I can set up an Auction, or have the Jagged Crown be put up for an already existing one.

Shouldn't be too hard to find the Merchant Guild, as Aurelia said it's a very massive building with a golden chalice symbol above the front doors somewhere in the Cloud District.

With a mental sigh, I stand and leave my home, ignoring the slight bustle of the streets, the patrolling guards and the chatting citizens.

It's late in the morning, so there is quite a bit of activity. Especially since Whiterun is a very active city in the first place.

Being right in the middle of Skyrim makes it the hub for merchandise to go a bit everywhere, like I have heard Helgen used to be before its destruction.

Helged was the main source of outside goods for Skyrim as a whole, as it occupied the main road that comes into the region. Falkreath occupies the other one, but it isn't as big as Helgen used to be.

Now, only Falkreath and Whiterun stand to spread resources around, and without Helgen things will slow down quite a bit, while costs will rise exponentially.

Of course, despite this incoming crisis that even a kid can see coming from a mile away, and the threat of the Dragons… The Imperials and Stormcloaks most definitely will not have talks of a ceasefire until such things are handled.

How fucking idiotic.

I shake away those thoughts and enjoy the sights while wandering around.

My gaze drifts past the enormous Jorrvaskr as I walk by the large dead tree in the middle of the square, step past a bridge over a rushing canal of water, then stop at the top of a large staircase.

I can see hundreds of houses from this high. Maybe even more than a few hundred. Whiterun is truly enormous, and this is just one side of it.

Still, this vantage point at the top of the stairs helps me locate the rather enormous building that is the Merchant Guild. And I mean it when I call it 'enormous'.

Damn thing is at least six stories tall and two times larger than fucking Jorrvaskr itself. Guess they went all in with this building.

It seems to be in a square too, but this one is filled with stalls of all kinds. Fresh raw meat, pelts, herbs, gems, fishes, books- So on and so forth.

It has a large amount of traffic, with each stall being quite big and professional looking, with each person manning said stalls wearing robes with golden chalices marks on them.

So this is a different kind of market than the one before the main gates. Perhaps this one is the market where the quality is assured, and its mainly for the wealthy.

While the markets by the main gates are manned by those that can and will swindle you with counterfeits and other bullshit.

I hum and walk around the large area with the stalls and waves of people coming and going, the chatter being quite loud as people barter for the wares, telling me there is no set price.

The main doors to the Guild's interiors are open, with some of the workers walking out with boxes that are then delivered to some of the stall owners outside, who swiftly refill their wares once they start to dwindle.

They are very professional and work incredibly fast. Fascinating.

The main hall, aside from the workers, is mostly empty, with it being a large open space with red carpet covering wooden floors, lit lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and paintings of all kinds hanging from the walls.

Coupled with small pillars holding precious vases and even ancient looking swords here and there, clearly just pieces placed here for show and not meant to be for sale.

At the other hand of the hall are several receptionist areas, and one of the workers behind said desk perks up, "Welcome, sir! How may I be of help?" Huh, she's cute.

"Greetings to you, young lady!" The Breton woman professional smile turns a bit genuine at my enthusiastic tone, "A friend of mine told me that the Merchant Guild holds auctions. May I inquire on when the next one is held?"

She blinks and straightens herself, "We indeed do, and the next auction will be within three days." Damn, I am quite lucky then. "Would you like to buy a participation ticket, or put an item up for the auction?"

"The second one." I pause, "Is it possible to have some privacy in regards to showing off the item I plan on putting on for auction?" The woman's eyes twinkle with barely restrained interest as she stands.

"Of course, sir!" How energetic and enthusiastic. "Please, follow me!" Walking around the table, she leads me one of the rooms to the right end of the large open hall.

The room opens up into a long hallway filled with doors, all of them open and showing the insides of a very welcoming room clearly meant for private business transactions.

"Please, wait here while I go and call for the Auction Manager! Shall I call for someone to bring some beverages while you wait?"

I chuckle and wave off her request as I step into the room, "There is no need for that. I'll simply wait here." With a smile and nod, the young Breton woman all but skips away as I take a seat at the table in the middle of the small yet welcoming room.

A table and two chairs in the middle, then two couches facing each other and a tea table between them right to the side.

They spared no expenses in making a comfortable room for the business transactions, huh?

The sound of footsteps brings my attention away from inspecting the room and back towards the door just as the young Breton woman steps back into view, followed by a rather large Argonian with yellow scales.

And by large I mean that this motherfucker is bigger than Farkas himself. Jesus, what is this dude being fed?

I stand as the towering Argonian steps in, a very visible amicable expression on their reptilian face and eyes, "Greetings, sir…?"

"Leonidas." I introduce myself, grasping and shaking the much bigger offered hand.

"Ser Leonidas." The Argonian nods, "Mine name is Teeba-Gei, a pleasure." Stepping in and retrieving his hand, Teeba-Gei sends a look towards the Breton woman, who nods and steps out of the room while closing the door.

"Shall we take a seat, then?" I nod and motion towards the table, taking my chair while the Argonian takes the one opposite mine, "Now, my friend has told me you have something you wish to put up for auction, yes?"

Once more, I nod and reach for my pouch, "Indeed. It is something I recovered from some Nordic Ruins just up north earlier in the morning." Placing the pouch on the table, I push it towards the curious Argonian, "At first, I thought this item to be a legend, but seeing that I found it atop the head of a Draugr…"

I motion towards the pouch, giving Teeba-Gei the go ahead. Clawed and scaly fingers pry the pouch open, then slowly draw out the dusty Jagged Crown, "Oh my…" The Argonian whispers, eyes widening and studying the object with clear fascination. He clearly recognizes it.

"Now I understand why you wish to keep this transaction private." The business-argonian before me hums softly, which resembles a gentle hiss-like sound, "A nice piece of history, from way before the time the Jarls even existed."

"You could get quite a few good favors if you give this item to a certain group of people." The Argonian drawls out, eyeing me curiously.

I shrug, "That would lead the opposing party to be pissed with me, plus… Would the monetary gain truly be as high as having the two sides just wildly bid for it within an auction?"

Teeba-Gei lets out a sharp and happy hiss-like laugh, "Oh, you have the mind of a true merchant, my friend! You can avoid making enemies of either side while also pulling in a greater amount of money with little to no effort. Your cunning mind has my respect." He inclines his head with closed eyes as I chuckle softly.

"You don't need to verify if the Crown is the real thing?" I ask curiously despite myself, drawing a hissed chuckle from Teeba-Gei.

A clawed finger reaches up to tap at his nostrils with an amused glint within his reptilian eyes, "I have recently been in contact with the bones and scales of a Dragon, the one you yourself helped in felling-" He recognizes me, huh? "-so I can smell the scent of a Dragon coming from the parts used in forging this crown here."

"Even after all these years, through the stench of death and dust… The scent of a Dragon still lingers, as powerful as always." Is that a worshipful tone I hear?

"Then I take it that it can be put up for auction?" I had to resist the urge to cackle in glee and rub my hand like a goblin, but goddamn am I looking forward to all the money that will just pour in.

Teeba-Gei nods, "But of course. The Merchant Guild will retain twenty-percent of the final bid, and we will, of course, make sure that all interested parties will be…" A snake-like tongue flicks out to lick the scales around the lips, "Notified, about this item being put up for auction." Oh, I already like this guy.

"I'm sure that they will try to get to me before the auction." I drawl out as I lean back, knowing very well that they cannot afford to throw so much money for the Crown, so they will try to find me and 'kindly ask' me to hand it over for a much smaller meager sum of Septims.

"They will." Teeba-Gei nods, "But they won't find success through us. We pride ourselves in keeping all transactions that are meant to be private exactly that. No bribing is tolerated within our Guild. So if they try to question us, they will be led to the door."

Yep, I like this guy.

Plus, they will only keep twenty percent. I expected them to barter for much more, but they aren't greedy. The Merchant Guild is turning out to be quite reliable.

"Then I believe it is a pleasure to do business with you." I stand and offer my gloved hand, which is happily grasped and shaken by the towering Argonian.

"Oh, Ser Leonidas. Trust me when I say that the pleasure is all ours."

Now I just gotta wait for the Imperials or the Stormcloaks to deliver their pockets full of gold to me.

                                                                             xxxXXXxxx

"With Helgen now gone, the area around it is now free for us to use to move our troops around discretely."

"Falkreath is still in the way, sir. And despite the fact that they claim to be neutral to all, it's a known fact that Siddgeir, that milk-drinking bastard, is a filthy Imperial supporter."

Ulfric scoffs, a snarl coming upon his face, "Dengeir was a fine Nord and a proper Jarl. That vile nephew of his only got his position due to Tullius machinations and schemes." Another scoff, and his fist nearly crashes down upon the war table before him, "We cannot move around that area carelessly, lest Tullius is tipped off by that traitorous Nord."

One of his generals leans forward, his large war-ax rested against the table to his right, "Why not get rid of that milk-drinker? With Dengeir back on the rule, we could focus on Dawnstar and get more than half of Skyrim under our control." Dawnstar…

Just thinking of that Hold left a sour taste in Ulfric's mouth. The moment he was captured and voice spread, the Imperials used that surge of high morale of theirs and the low morale of his troops to attack and conquer Dawnstar.

By the time the Dragon destroyed Helgen and he managed to flee, it was already too late, and now the Imperials have a Hold dangerously close to Windhelm.

Good thing Winterhold is neutral and watched over by those damnable Mages, else...

"Siddgeir is still the nephew of someone I call a proper Nord brother…" Could he bring himself to kill off that traitorous bastard?

Of course. He has done far worse things in life.

"Move the troops near Falkreath, but stay far away from the patrol routes." Hard choices have to be made for the good of Skyrim.

"This could backfire on us." Another one of his trusted generals points out, "Falkreath is neutral, and despite the clear support Siddgeir has for the Imperials, he doesn't allow any of their soldiers to patrol or set up camp near it as far as we know."

Ulfric frowns at the logic, "And if we attack it, we might make Whiterun hostile, as it too is a Neutral Hold in the Civil War." Curse Balgruuf and his cowardice in making the right choices.

They once fought side by side, but now he turned his back on a former brother-in-arms in need. I thought you were better than that, Balgruuf.

"Then we must be discreet-" The doors to the room are pushed open, and Ulfric smiles when the imposing form of Galmar Stone-Fist, the second-in-command of the Stormcloaks and trusted brother of his, strides in with quick and powerful steps.

"The Crown has been found." The large pelt wearing man announces as he draws close to the war table, making Ulfric frown in confusion.

Then realization, "That legend you told me about?"

"A legend that is true." Galmar states, hands coming down to rest on the table with a large map on it, "Some bastard found it exactly where I thought it would be, and put it up for auction in Whiterun."

"You mean… The Jagged Crown of King Borgas?" One of the generals asks in a whisper, and Galmar nods sharply.

At first, Ulfric thought going after such a legend was a waste of time, resources and man… But now, seeing the sheer worship and respect within the eyes of his generals… Now his mind was slowly changing.

If this is the effect it had on his generals, then what kind of effect would it have on the young Nords?

"I received word that the auction will be held soon, two or three days at most." Galmar keeps going, "Ulfric, we need to get that Crown for you."

"If we received word, Tullius must know about it too." He points out.

"Then we must outbid that fucker, lest he puts the Crown on the head of that dumb woman." Damn elf-loving wench…

"Can we find who put the Crown up for auction through the Merchant Guild?" He asks, but Galmar scoffs.

"Those bastards would rather kill their newborn than go against their Oaths." He could respect that, at least.

With a sigh, Ulfric straightens himself, "Get me my horse."

The things he does to win this damn war.

                                                                            xxxXXXxxx

"Are you insane?!" General Tullius's voice boomed across the throne room, his eyes nearly spewing out flames, "You wish for me to throw money away to bid for a stupid Crown?! Do you think money grows on trees or something!?"

Tullius had to wonder if Elisif, while growing up, spent more time caring about her beauty than to raise her smarts.

Because sometimes he was really baffled at the sheer idiotic requests the beautiful Jarl had for him.

And now she wishes to make him bid for a stupid Crown of all things?!

A Crown that was found on the head of a fucking corpse!?

Elisif frowns from her spot on the throne, clearly not happy at his improper outburst, "I care not about the Crown or what it symbolizes for the Nords." The woman bites out, and Tullius forces himself to swallow his anger to listen.

"But that does not mean we can let it fall in Ulfric's hands. My husband's murderer will use that damnable thing to rally more fools to his cause, which will be a problem for the both of us."

Color him impressed… For once, the woman said something intelligent.

His eyes flicker towards the hooded Thalmor to her right, and he does his best to keep the scowl off his face at the sight. 'Are those her words, or the words of these animals?'

"What you say holds merit, but the outcome will be a loss even if we acquire the Crown." He points out, and the frown on the beautiful woman's face only deepens.

"Elaborate." Of course. Must he spell everything out like with children?

"Ulfric Stormcloak will bring a great deal of funds to bid for the Crown, as he cannot afford to threaten others to back-off within the Merchant Guild Auction Hall."

"So in order to best him, I must bring greater funds than he does. If I do so, and use them to win, then I stop him from getting the Crown… But give him an advantage over us in terms of monetary stability."

"If we do lose, while we keep our stability, he'll gain a lot of supporters and may even recruit a surge of foolish Nords to his side."

Elisif frowns and falls deep into thoughts, and Tullius begs the Divine above to give her just a tiny bit of intelligence to call of this 'order' of hers.

"Then do not acquire the Crown." Tullius releases a breath of relief, "But bid for it either way." Then nearly chokes on her next demand.

"Why?"

At his question, Elisif smirks cruelly, "Just make Ulfric waste as much of his funds as possible. Stop when you feel like he is nearing the end, or you feel like he is discovering our ploy."

General Tullius straightens himself and furrows his brows in thought, but Elisif keeps speaking, "If winning or losing will spell bad for us, then we'll do neither."

"We'll make Ulfric waste a great deal of his money and acquire a greater amount of troops… Then watch as he can't afford to keep them under his pay due to his lack of funds."

"And with Helgen gone and trade slowing down greatly, prices will go up exponentially, and Ulfric will be unable to make enough to satisfy the needs of his army."

"This way, we create a situation where in the end, we are the victors."

General Tullius blinks and nearly gapes at the smirking woman on the throne.

When he asked the Divines to bless her with a modicum of intelligence and wisdom, he did not expect them to actually fucking do it.

But by the Divines isn't he fucking loving this!

"Then, by your leave…"

"I will pray for your success, General Tullius."

Perhaps, in the future, he'll make sure to tell Ulfric that this ploy was created by Elisif of all people.

Just to further irate him before the ax comes down to take off his head.

A.N. Leonidas finds a way to inconvenience other people even across Skyrim.

With this chapter comes the public release, and I can finally focus on the other stories too. I'll write some Drugs next, cause I miss writing it.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!