Ephedrina has escaped, but she is lost in the mist.

 

Nonetheless her stubbornness and sheer will to survive asserts itself. She keeps pushing on, hiding from every sound, plodding through the mud and the mist and the cold water. But she doesn't stop. She doesn't give up.

 

But where is she? Where is she going? She has no idea.

 

 

She exhausted from lack of food and water, from lack of sleep, from Ataxia (caught from the skeevers) and from an excess of sexual ecstasy.

 

 

The night and the woods seem never ending, as Ephedrina stumbles barefoot across the landscape.

 

 

And then the clit piercing starts vibrating.

 

All parts of her vagina hurt, sore and aching from the way the Goldenglow guards used it. The vibrations both hurt and arouse her, but no matter how she squirms and squeezes she can't reach a climax or make it stop. Curse Gascayn for making her wear the tortuous thing.

 

 

Walking the high road naked, shackled, lost.

 

Morning follows dawn and Ephedrina is starving, thirsty, sick and exhausted. She can't decide if she hopes to come across people on the road or not. If anyone decides to abuse her, there's nothing she can really do about it except beg and plead... and Skyrim has not proven itself a merciful place this far.

 

 

Ephedrina finally finds a sign-post, allowing her to orient herself. It seems she's been making her way towards Riften. Should she be relieved? Is it destiny? She's not sure.

 

 

"Can you help me?"

 

"That's quite the predicament you're in... what happened?"

 

"Bad luck and cruelty... but please, can you help me?"

 

"I wish I could, but I don't have anything that can cut steel."

 

Ephedrina is trapped and helpless. It's lucky that the peddler chooses not to take advantage of her.

 

 

"Oh you're back," says the toll keeper at the gate. "What happened to your armour?"

 

His tone is one of enjoyment and mockery, not sympathy.

 

"You look nice like that," he calls out to her. "You should dress like that all the time."

 

In one sense, she's back to safety now that she's in Riften. But somehow, Ephedrina doesn't feel any better.

 

 

Ephedrina stops by the Temple of Mara. Luckily they're able to cure the Ataxia she contracted from the skeevers. It'd be nice to feel like that made an appreciable difference, but really she's still fucked.

 

 

Ephedrina contemplates her current situation and the immediate future. She is not optimistic. Neither Gascayn nor Brynjolf are going to be impressed. She used to think things couldn't get any worse, but the men at Goldenglow showed her things could get a lot rougher than what she is used to.

 

She can only hope that Gascayn will be kind, though she knows it's a foolish thought.

 

 

Her heart grows heavier with each step as she makes her way towards the Ragged Flagon. But where else is she supposed to go? What other options does she have?

 

 

She's through the Ratway. Up ahead is the Ragged Flagon, the Thieves Guild, Gascayn... and whatever consequences await for her failure.

 

 

"You fucked up, milady."

 

Gascayn puts on an act of paternal disappointment, but Ephedrina knows he's going to drive her failure home ruthlessly. He'll milk it for all it's worth. She's trying not to cry from despair.

 

"I thought you were better than that."

 

She did fuck up. She did. And she paid the price. But the sickening feeling in her stomach tells her she's not finished paying the price.