It had been five days since Quinn had departed Markarth, and what was once worry, now made way for full blown panic. 'Where was he? Why hasn't he come home? Is he okay? Is he even...' Never before had I felt so weak, so powerless; that my life was crumbling before my eyes, and all I could do was weep in my bed like a child. Had I been born strong, I would storm through the Reach searching for my beloved. Had I been smart, I might have averted this disaster. Had I been wealthy, I could have taken care of him, so as he wouldn't have to work himself so hard to take care of me, but no! Was I born strong or smart, no, I had been born with nothing but a pair of tits for perverts to gawk at. Quinn was the only person in my life that made me feel important, or strong, and with him gone, what was I? Useless, trash... My father tried to console me as best he could, but he was as powerless as I was. Could he leave and bring my husband home, not in this city. So we did what we could, we waited.

"Alms, I said alms..." "And I said take a fucking wash you drunk! Now get away from my home!" As I slammed the door in his face, anger passed and guilt arose. Degaine was a pest, but he didn't deserve that level of animosity. There must be something I can do; because sitting here like this, helpless, I was going to do something drastic soon. Willing myself through yet another day in this living hell, maybe leaving, and searching for Quinn myself would be the right thing to do. Just maybe...

I had made up my mind, I had to find him, even if there was only his body left, being left in the dark MUST be worse. I packed enough provisions for a week, and clothing for colder climates. As I attempted to walk down the steps to the gates, a tall, burly man approached me. I recognized him, Yngvar the Singer, Thongvor's hired muscle, an ugly brute who claims to be irresistible to the women. "Where do you think you're going dressed like that?" "What's it matter to you?" I barked, anxiety boiling over in my heart. "Iron-willed, I like that in a woman." "I am in no mood Singer, I have to go." "You may want to make time sweetheart, Thongvor wishes to speak with you. He's in the keep." "I don't give a damn what he wishes!" The smirk that came across Yngvar's face made my stomach turn, as if he were in on some sick joke, and I was the fool. I wished nothing more then to rip that stupid smile from his smug face. "Thongvor said you're going to be VERY interested in what he has to say. Go or don't go, I did my job." And with that he left.

As I ventured through the cold streets toward the Understone Keep, my mind raced with questions; 'What does he want?' 'Is he trying to rub salt on the wound?' 'Does he know where Quinn is?' Thongvor leaned against the stone near the mages dwarven museum, it wasn't until I was a few feet away from him that he had even registered my being there. "What do you want Thongvor?" His eyes refused to meet mine. "Spit it out old man!" Tears of frustration forming in my eyes. "Well..." Was he pausing for dramatic effect!? "... I have some news that you may want to know. It's about your husband." "Where is he!?" "..." "Tell me!?" I reached for my blade, his eyes glanced briefly at my hand, then back to my face, clearly unimpressed. "He's in Cidhna." My heart skipped a beat as his words escaped his lips. "But... but you said, you said you kept him out of there. Why is he in there?!" "It's out of my control." "Bullshit! It's your mine..." "It's my BROTHERS mine, with what happened, I couldn't have saved him regardless." "What did he do?!" My voice breaking into a pitiful whine. "He killed the owner of a rival mine, he said it was self defense, but it was his word against the rest of the mine. It was all that I could do to put him in the mine, they wanted his head." "He would never..." "He did." His voice stern, powerful, reminding me why his family name is so respected... and feared. I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I collapsed to my knees and began to bawl.

The fact that I was able to regain composure to any extant was a surprise, wiping tears from my eyes, I tried my hardest to form my words. "I want to see him." "Nobody gets into the mine, unless by force." "Use your influence, I'm begging you." "You and Quinn have both put me in a rather tough spot." "Please?" "Do you have any idea how difficult this will be? Greased palms and burying bodies isn't cheap. Do YOU have the gold to cover this?" I hadn't but a handful of septims to my name. I tried to speak, but there were no words that could come out. "I suppose I can do this favor, but I can't exactly do it for free." "What do you want?" I knew as the words escaped me where this would lead, and the wolfish grin that spread across his face only validated my fears. "Well... Funny you should ask..."

Sorry I was a bit late on this entry, but, yeah... life, worst game ever. I don't feel particularly great about this chapter, because I have hit a bit of a block, so, yeah, if you think it's shit too, I insist you tell me, also, sorry about the lack of pictures, my game is being kind of wacky. Other then that, as always, comments/critique are always welcome. Hope the next chapter will be easier for me to write, and I can get some pictures in.