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Hey, it’s Destana again. Just wanted to clarify. My recent outburst against Ulfric was me reacting to new information I learned. I may have overreacted, but he understands. Though I am not the picture of morality (Infact, my hands are red with culpability) killing innocent bystanders is something I take exception to, and try to avoid. And killing an entire race of people (which I think is what a lot of Nords wants to do with the Forsworn) is monstrous. The Forsworn have become something more than just ‘Bretons with shamans,’ they’re a melting pot of Breton (itself a man-mer hybrid), Nords and a few Imperials who revere the sanctity of nature. And, of course, there’s a lot not to like. But maybe my inclusion can nudge them away from the cannibalism and lack of consent. I know I’ve done some bad things. But I’ve done some good things too. I think as much as my defeat of Alduin or Harkon, and (Talos willing) the Thalmor, the bonding between Skyrim and the Reachmen would be one of my greatest legacies. If I can do it. I knew I was going to have to do something drastic and unexpected. Just a bit more to remind you: Markarth’s current residents and the Forsworn have a long and bloody history. Runa tried to curb this in the Dark Brotherhood when a Talos priest hired her to stop the Forsworn killings by guards. It is its own story. Recently (in the past few years), a splinter group called the ‘Lost Valley Forsworn’ made a pact with giants to make periodic attacks to try and break Markarth’s defenses. And so, I went to Markarth, and started poking around. I don’t remember where I received this tip, but a while back I heard about a murder in Markarth and got an anonymous note about it – finding out about two people named Margret (the lady who’d been murdered) and Weylin (the dude who got shot by the guards, claiming to be a Forsworn). I headed over to the Inn (a good place to hear rumors) and asked Kleppr, the old innkeeper. “Did a person named Margret stay here?” He looked back at me for a minute, stroking his chin. He may have been distracted by the fact that I was still wearing my topless forsworn garb. “Eyes up here, bud,” I said. “Oh, sorry. Rented the best room we had for a whole month a little while back. Best not to talk about the dead,” he replied. I rolled my eyes, and walked off. I scoped out what looked to be the largest room and picked the lock, shutting the door behind me. Not currently occupied. I rifled through the items, books and papers laying around (taking everything of value, old habits die hard) and found an old journal. Why do people record so many private things in journals around here? I flipped through it, and found a note about General Tullius, wanting to get the deed to Cidhna Mine so the Empire could directly control the Reach and the Silver supply. Margret was investigating what was going on (for the Empire, but I can capitalize on her research). Why it’s so secure. Who is held in there? According to her research it seems to be mostly Forsworn and sympathizers. Or people labeled as such. I know how these things go. A search and seizure happens for a purpose, and then anybody who is at fault gets locked up. And anybody adjacent. And anybody who the guards or the hold doesn’t like. I went back out into the inn and ask a few more people some questions, but nothing came of it. When I stepped outside, a Markarth guard was waiting for me, “Hey. You. You’ve been snooping around, asking questions.” Somebody must’ve stepped out to alert the guards. There really are eyes everywhere in Markarth. They have something to hide. “Back off,” he continued, “You don’t want to know what happens to troublemakers here. This is your last warning. I’m just trying to keep the peace here.” I, of course, decided not to do that, and went to talk to Mulush, the smelter foreman down by the mine. The prisoners mine silver, and legitimate paid trade workers topside smelt the silver. “Hey, I heard Weylin was a silver worker. What do you know about him?” “Whatever you want to know, I don’t care,” he turned to look at me, “What are you supposed to be, a Redguard forsworn? Nice Witches Festival costume.” I stared at him flatly, “You must know something.” He sighed, “Fine. I did notice something odd when we handed out the pay. An extra little slip of paper for Weylin. Took it right to his room after he got it.” “Where does he live?” “The Warrens. And if you want his key, talk to Garvey. About the only thing that diseased native is good for,” Mulush looked back to his workers dismissively. “What’s wrong with the natives?” I asked. “Every other day, one of these workers runs off to the hills saying he’ll join the Forsworn. You don’t like Nords? Fine. But pledging your whole life to killing them? That’s just dumb,” he replied. “I agree with you,” I said. I went to the Warrens and, me not needing my own key, I just picked the lock. There was a note in his room: ‘Weylin, you’ve been chosen to strike fear in the heart of the Nords. Go to the market tomorrow. You know what you must do. -N.’ I walked out of the dirty Warrens with that data. But who was N? “Hey!” A man in leather armor accosted me as I walked out, “You’ve been digging around where you don’t belong. It’s time you learned a lesson.” “Are you serious? I don’t listen to threats.” “You’ll listen to this,” he cracked his knuckles. “I don’t have time for this,” I said, then I took a breath, “FUS – RO – DAH!” And he fell in the water. “No fair!” In what seemed like a second, Mulush was down the ramp, “You roughin’ up my boys?” “Hey, he was swinging at me. I just knocked him over,” I said, “Didn’t lay a hand on him.” The orc raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who ‘N’ might be?” “Probably Nepos the Nose,” he folded his arms, “Please, go look for him and stop slowing down my operation here.” I nodded, “No problem.” I headed to Nepos’ house, a large stone dwemer building on the upper ring of the city. I walked past his family and his housekeeper to find him sitting in a wooden chair in front of a fire. “Are you the one who sent that thug after me?” I asked him, straight-out. “Ah yes. You’ve grown into quite the problem for me. Quite the bloodhound. I’ve been playing this game for almost twenty years. Sending the young to their deaths. All in the name of the Forsworn. And I’m tired of it.” “Why? What is going on this city?” “Because my king told me to. Madanach. They threw him in the mines after the uprising. I don’t know how, but he lives. I get his messages, I hand out his orders. Even in rags, he is still my king. A man who once held the whole Reach in his grip. He stokes the passions of the downtrodden in this city, directs them to kill the enemies of the Forsworn in our name. All from inside Cidhna Mine. Ironic, isn’t it?” “So why not do something about it? Just because things are does not mean they must be,” I replied. “Things are as they have been for a long time. I’m an old man, as is my king. Markarth and the Reach are our lands. We cannot claim the home that is rightfully ours.” “That’s quite the monologue you had there. Why tell me, a complete stranger?” “My dear girl, what makes you think you’re getting out of here alive? You know too much. My housekeeper is Madanach’s agent in disguise. You aren’t the first one to have gotten this far, and you won’t be the last.” The two men I assumed were his sons, and the ‘maid’ rushed into the room, weapons drawn. “You should keep an open mind,” I said, “You haven’t looked at me once.” He turned to me, and beheld my clothing, “You shouldn’t dress like that here. Liable to get yourself killed.” My assailants rushed in to do what they were commanded. “I’d like to see them try,” I gathered energy and slammed it down on the ground, creating a green zone. Along with Gift of Life, a powerful heal, this was a spell I learned after my last ceremony, called ‘Sexual Harmony.’ Before I used it, I thought it was a mass Calm spell, and it was… but it had other effects. It was both calm and arousal control over a wide area. The maid, the two men, and his daughter, all ripped their clothes off and started to grab at anything they could. Before long, they were a pile of sexually frustrated bodies, reconsidering their actions from the exertion. “I have no reason to kill you, and I have no reason to die. I have a lot left to do in this land. I’ll excuse this attack for now,” I said, turning to leave. I decided it was time to pay the man a visit who’d sent me the note in the first place. I went to the Shrine of Talos. A group of guards were waiting for me. A large group. “Hey! We warned you. But you had to just go and cause trouble,” the one from before said, “Now we have to pin all the murders on you. Silence witnesses. Work. Work. Work…” “What’d you do to the guy who was waiting here?” “Same thing we do to all the other natives who want to change things around here. We got a nice deal between Madanach and Thonar, and you had to start snooping around. You wanted to figure out who was responsible for those killings? You’ll have plenty of time with the King in Rags when you’re in Cidhna Mine. You’ll never see the sun again, you hear me? No one escapes Cidhna Mine!” I went quietly, realizing that the best way to get the information is straight from the source. The King in Rags. Madanach. When they pulled my blindfold off, Urzoga gro-Shugurz handed me a brown set of prisoner’s clothes and I put them on. “Alright, prisoner. You’re in Cidhna Mine, now. And we expect you to earn your keep. Here, you work. You’ll mine until you start throwing up silver bars.” “So when do I get out?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “You don’t. You’ve got a life sentence. Get comfortable in the dark, cause you’ll never see the sun again.” I resisted my urge to throw back a quip, knowing I could just teleport out of here at any time. I had a job to do. I was pushed through the door, which was locked behind me, then I walked into a chamber with a fire and a few other prisoners around it. “What you in for, new blood?” A skinny man asked. “Asking questions, I guess.” “Innocent, eh? So was I, the first time. The murders were all me, though,” he chuckled, “Serve your time and try not to die with a pickaxe in your hand.” “Where’s Madanach?” I asked. “Ah, you must be in for life if you know about him,” he said, “Tough luck, friend. Just talk to Borkul the Beast if you really want to see the king in rags.” “Who’s that?” “He’s Madanach’s guard. Big even for an orc, and right over there. Heard he ripped a man’s arm off and beat him to death with it. He’s old fashioned like that.” “Hmm… big you say?” I stroked my chin, then I asked, “So aren’t there guards? This is a different kind of prison.” “Oh, they come in once a week and grab the ore and give us food. Clean out the bodies. We police ourselves, I guess. Only time we get food too. And if there’s not enough silver mined, we get less.” I decided I would take a long walk, and met about twenty people in the mines. At the very edge I found a couple vampires that attacked me, and I responded by beating them down with a Bound Dagger. Did I do the prison a service? Not really sure. When I turned around, there was a Nord man there, just jerking it, watching me kill the pair. “Wow, well, that’s weird,” I said, as I passed him. I also met a Forsworn that said he’d been in here seven years, after a raid gone awry. I met another who was not at all a Forsworn but had been picked up after a raid. So, I’m thinking this is one of those pustules I was talking about. I finally approached Borkul. “Ahh, the new meat. So soft. Tender. I was watching you get herded in,” he growled. “You can’t scare me, if that’s what you’re trying to do. I’ve met scarier dudes than you. Usually ends up in me either fucking them or killing them,” I replied, “Sometimes both.” Borkul grinned, “Ah, a true killer, like me. The gods put us here to fill their halls with souls. You’ll fit in fine down here.” “So what are you in for?” I asked. “Murder. Banditry. Assault. Theft. Loitering,” he leaned in, seemed like he was flexing. “I heard you were guarding Madanach.” “You want to see the king in rags, eh? Fine. But first you gotta pay the toll,” Borkul said. “What’s the toll?” “How about you get me a shiv? Nice to have in case I need to do some shaving,” he chuckled. I smirked, “C’mon… there must be something else you want.” “Hmm..” he scratched his chin, “If you’re suggesting what I am, I’m game.” I smiled, letting him make his own assumptions. “What an obedient little whore you are. I like them feisty, but you’ll do,” he said. He stepped over to me, pulling off his pants, which was all he had been wearing. I pulled off my clothes and he pushed me over, taking me missionary in the dirt. I remember him saying, “You better swallow, whore,” as he started. And when he finished, he pulled out and came on my face and in my mouth. “What a gentleman, thinking of a lady’s fear of pregnancy,” I gulped. Borkul laughed out loud, “I like you. You can go in.” The others around the fire were all masturbating when I walked in the tunnel ahead. I walked in to a room, finding an old man writing at a desk in a small hovel, a naked woman with forsworn-style hair sitting on his bed. “You shouldn’t be in here,” she said. “Am I… interrupting something?” I asked. “Apparently so,” she said. “Well, well,” Madanach said, “The Nords have turned you into an animal. A wild beast caged up and left to go mad. What do you want, my fellow beast? Answers about me? Revenge for trying to have you killed?” “Yeah, that doesn’t make much sense. I’m asking questions to try and fix things. You have a lot of answers for me,” I replied. “Do I? What about you? What right do you have to meddle in my affairs? Kill my people? Was all this worth it? You’re one of us now, you see? A slave. The boot of a Nord stepping on your throat. Maybe if you understood that, I could help you.” “Understand?” I folded my arms, “What I understand is you’re an old man, resigned to a life of captivity. What I’m here to tell you is I am your golden goose. I am here to offer to change everything on your people’s behalf. Because you see, I’m going to be crowned Queen of Skyrim tomorrow (what time is it? What day is it now? …Nevermind) and I became a Shaman of the Forsworn yesterday.” “Queen?” Madanach scoffed at me, then he sighed, “There’s a man named Braig inside these mines. Besides me, he’s been here the longest. Tell him I sent you. Ask him why he’s here. I want you to know how widespread the injustice in Markarth is. This was our land. Then the Nords came and put chains on us. Forbid us from worshipping our gods. Some of us refused to bow. That is who we are. The Forsworn. Criminals in our own lands.” I walked out, and found Braig, “Madanach asked me to hear your story.” “My story, eh? Everyone in Cidhna Mine has a tale. Let’s hear yours first. What was the first time you felt chains around your wrists?” I replied flatly, “I’ve lost count, now. But the first time was when I was fourteen. I got caught pickpocketing a man in the market. I wasn’t as good at it then as I am now. Hammerfell prisons aren’t as harsh as Skyrim’s, though. I actually learned a lot from my experience there. I even met my first friends, and my boss who took me out to sea. I’m twenty-nine, and I’ve been through a lot since then.” “Then you know the hard looks as judgment sets upon you. The sneers of people who never had to face sentence,” Braig said. I folded my arms, “Maybe that’s why I travel so much. Can never pin me down in one place. I’m probably one of the most famous people in Skyrim, but I’m a ghost.” “Do you have any family? Anyone waiting for you on the outside?” Braig asked. “Two sons, and daughter. An ex-husband I haven’t seen in many months. A fiancée. And a vampire princess I’m in love with,” I smiled. “That’s quite an accomplishment for a vagabond such as yourself,” Braig replied, “I had a daughter once. She’d be twenty-three this year. Married to some hot-headed silver worker, or maybe learning the herb trade. I dream sometimes of who she could’ve been. The Nords didn’t care… I spoke to Madanach once and didn’t have anything to do with it. She pleaded with them to take her instead. After they made me watch as her head rolled off the block, they threw me in here anyway to dig up their silver.” “That’s… terrible,” I said. “My daughter is the one to pity here. I just regret not joining the cause and killing them myself,” Braig said. I returned to Madanach, my heart heavy. “You’re back. Did you do what I asked?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Imagine hearing a story like that, over and over again. Each time a different injustice. Each time a different family.” “I want to ask something of you,” I said. “What’s that, shaman?” “If you did get back the Reach, would you kill every Nord there?” I asked. “What difference does it make?” He asked. “I’m asking you a question to gauge what kind of a king you are,” I said. He sighed, “I want to say I would kill them all. But I’ve seen what happens to the bystanders when wars happen. With that in mind, I don’t want that for my people. Call me an old fool, but the Nords of the Reach and the Forsworn are too closely related now. Like two men who married into the same family. It’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.” “That’s the answer I was looking for,” I replied. “Your meddling… has reminded me of how removed I’ve been from the struggle. Me men and I should be in the hills, working to take back the Reach,” Madanach said. “Are you saying you know a way out of here?” He asked. “Yes, but I need a show of loyalty from you. I know you’re a shaman, but you’re literally in bed with my enemy.” “What do you need?” “Have you met Grisvar the Unlucky? He’s aptly named. But he’s also a snitch. I don’t need the guards tipped off, or a shiv in the back while we escape,” he said, “Take care of him and we can escape Cidhna Mine for good.” I walked around looking for him a bit, and found a woman in a dirty white shirt, who said, “Hey, stranger, what are you in for?” “Doesn’t matter. We’re all getting the fuck out of here soon,” I said, “But don’t you tell anybody.” She smiled, a rare occurance in this place, and she said, “Can’t argue with that. My name’s Ralya. I’m going to come with you and help you.” I smiled. Everybody else in the prison was brutish and standoffish, but this woman radiated a positivity. We finally found Grisvar and I approached him. “Why do they call you unlucky?” I asked. “I got locked up in here. First time for thieving. Second time for thieving. Third, for thieving.” “Ah, I see. Maybe Nocturnal has something against you,” I smirked. Then I left Ralya to talk with him for a bit. I walked down the hall and waited until he was distracted enough, summoned a bound bow, and shot him between the ribs. Ralya blinked, “Wow. Guess you won’t be needing a shiv then.” The bound arrows dissolved around this time. I smirked, “Best part, no evidence. Also, snitches get stitches.” I went back to Madanach and told him the deed was done. “You’re a Forsworn, as far as I’m concerned,” he said, “I think it’s time I announced my plans.” He got up from his desk and walked to the central area with the fire. “What’s going on, Madanach?” The skinny man from before asked. “Brothers and sisters,” Madanach said, “We’ve been here long enough. Gather everyone up and meet back here in five. I know I can trust everybody in the mine, and we had Grisvar dealt with.” “What about those vampires in the deep cave?” Borkul asked. “Oh, I killed them already. They attacked me,” I replied. “Hot damn,” Madanach replied, “Okay, you have your orders.” In ten minutes, we all met, and his naked friend (her name was Flora) said, “I called the sleepers. They’ll meet us at the end of the tunnel.” “Good. I think we’ve earned an early pardon,” Maranach said, pulling aside a curtain. It revealed a small one-person sized tunnel that led down to an old, abandoned part of the dwarven city, that Markarth was only the very tip-tip of. Madanach led the charge, and it became clear he was both a spell caster and a warrior when he downed large spiders and dwemer automata with cloaks and spells. Without weapons, what are you gonna do? The others lended hands with shivs, and I used bound bow to back them up. A forsworn woman was standing by a chest, and Borkul dumped out the contents, throwing everyone equipment. My stuff was all thrown in my backpack. Once we were all equipped, Madanach said, “You certainly look the part.” I smirked at Borkul in his very large version of forsworn traditional armor. Apparently, I was not the only fish out of water here. “Later, hon,” he chuckled at me. “Alright, brothers!” Madanach drew a sword and staff, “We’re storming through this city. Get ready!” When we exited into the city we were on a small plaza on the upper ring. It was late evening. Thonar Silver-Blood and a group of guards were there, waiting for us. “Madanach! You’ll pay for what you’ve done to my family!” Thonar said. I almost asked if he was on drugs. “Your family? You’ve poisoned the Reach with your tainted Silver for long enough, Thonar!” Madanach yelled back. I charged up a spell as they all drew their weapons, running a little down the ramp as I did. “For the Reach!” The Forsworn yelled, and I casted my spell. Sexual Harmony. The guards and Thonar immediately started stripping and having sex with each other. “That’ll make them easy prey! Good thinking, sister!” One of the Forsworn yelled, then I peaked my head over the ridge, back up the ramp and blasted the Forsworn group and the remaining guards with Calm spells. “Godsdamned wizardry!” Somebody shouted, and everybody put away their weapons, the Forsworn beginning to quietly exit the city. Several times, a group of guards would come upon us, a large armed group of Forsworn, and would attack without hesitation. I blasted them all with Calm. We met another group of guards at the gate, and I repeated my action. That night, we ran for miles. Once we were out of Markarth lands, I helped slay beasts to keep the group safe, and we met a group of Imperial Soldiers, which confused the fuck out of me. But I didn’t bother Calming them and the Forsworn just steam-rolled over them. We also encountered a group of Welwa, and a dragon. Finally, Madanach and his group settled at his old camp, Druadach Redoubt. They were made up of his Forsworn, and a lot of prisoners who never had anything to do with the Forsworn, but were now 100% converts. There were humans of all kinds, a couple Orcs (including Borkul), and a Khajiit. At the end of it all, Madanach shook my hand. “I’ll be back. Please, don’t kill all the Nords while I’m gone.” “What’s your plan?” He asked. “I already told you. I’m going to give you the Reach.” I waivered, and fell on my face, “Sorry… just need to sleep first.” “Borkul, could you escort this young lady to a bedroll?” Madanach asked. “Oh, with pleasure,” he said hungrily, picking me up.

Previous part: https://www.loverslab.com/blogs/entry/5560-king-in-rags/ Escaping from Cidhna Gwynolda: Uhhhh much better, my feet feel lot easier, feels good!. Madanach took off my chains on me, freed my magicka and gave me some clothes what cover something, lot better than that shitty pant and half-assed bandage as bra, I'm now looking less a fresh meat in the wolf meat. As soon as magicka started flow me again, I tried to use my magic, allowing it to flow faster throught me. It felt so good having it again. Madanach was suprised, like he didn't know what he saw, it seems he was suprised how fast I recovered my magicka despite it constant drain of the chains.. Madanach: You recovered quite fast your magicka.. Gwynolda: Is that suprising? Madanach: Well...nevermind. Madanach: Take the key, its opens both chain door and the dwemer ones in the tunnels, as soon as you get in the city be careful it straigth up around in the castle, you not want to get caught. Gwynolda: Thanks, I take in consideration. Madanach: So what will you do? Will you join us? Gwynolda: Not decided yet, but first I get out then I see what happens then. Madanach: Well then good luck, farewell Gwynolda... Gwynolda: I take my leave, I will miss Borkul tell him that. Madanach: Alright, I wish the best reachmen girl, we might meet again.. After finishing talknig him, I went where he pointed and started dwelling the tunnels wich led my freedom. However while walking these tunnels I started think what should I do after my revenge. What I want to do after my vengance? I saw the entrance of the dwemer tunnels Gwynolda: Guess this leads to my freedom.. I saw the tunnels, ruined, dark yet it reminded me to my home, the temple. I was starting prepare a few spells in case of something happens.. Wandering hours in the tunnels while reaching the end, I thought about what should I do again, after all I am free of the temple, of my former life, even I want take my revenge I got much greater freedom in the end. While thinking about my next moves, I saw something a front of me, vigilant of Stendarr no less, dead one. I examined her gears found a diary... Gwynolda:"Its been a weeks since I dwelling here, it was rumored there is a Dwemer Automatron Vampire hybrid, such abomination of unholy union of the Dwemer technology and Molag Bal's power, Stendarr should.." Uhhhh just typical Vigilant bullshit... not even worth reading, she died for stupid stuff... Dwemer Vampire Automatron? Seriusly? Vigilants should smoke less skooma. I took her gear, its better than those rags and allow me to disguise myself as Vigilant, while being fanatical unresonable bunch of mob, they are respected for some reason. After walking another few hours I found the exit, living in the temple taught me how to smell fresh air from the cold dwemer doors. Gwynolda: Finally, freedom, I can smell the fresh reach air. First thing I saw my home, Markarth, the rotten bloody stone, it wasn't pleasant, but even this city is refreshing after that wretched mines. Gwynolda: Since I'm kind of wanted person, lets put some Illusion magic to good use. I altered my look temporaly with my illusion magic, I changed my dominant traits to something else, in order to hide myself, the magic last as long as I have magicka. Gwynolda: Hmmmm, strong green eyes to blue, brunette to blond and change the hairsytle a bit. I'm good to go now. Gwynolda: Escaping from the city will be lot easier with this, I did right thing learning illusion magic after all. End