Chapter 3: The Empire's Reach

Thalmir looked to Jethro quizzically. His eyes narrowed coldly as he looked at the theif.

"Jethro, what the Blade's are involved with is never hogwash."

Jethro looked over at Thalmir, grinning.

"I guess I can't expect anything less from an Imperial," Jethro replied. "You can follow blindly like all the others if you want, I'm not stopping you, but don't expect me to follow so...enthusiastically."

Inside, Jethro was laughing. He didn't expect to make this Imperial so angry with a few words. It certainly wasn't intentional at first, but he just couldn't pass down an opportunity to speak his mind like that.

Thalmir grunted at Jethro's comment. He never was one to get along with criminals, they contained the polar opposite mindset that he had as a soldier. Even after such a grand gift from the Emperor, how could he doubt the work of an Imperial?

"Just the kind of statement one should expect from a Bosmer." Thalmir poked with a cold grin.

Narsil cut in icily before either of them could continue the argument. "Enough. If you can't settle your differences, you're of no use to me, and the Emperor ordered you to help me." He looked from side to side, then took a deep breath. "Are you done? Good."

Narsil checked the list of informants, then thought for a moment. "Should we meet up with Antabolis first, or take care of General Varro's orders?"

Jethro grinned at Thalmir's comment. It was clear they wouldn't get along very well on this journey, but he could at least have some fun with that fact. Things would get very interesting indeed. Jethro turned to Narsil.

"I say we take care of the business with Antabolis first," he said, grinning. "Might as well save the best for last."

Jethro was eager to get some fighting finished, but he was taught never to eat dessert first, so naturally he went along with the idea of doing the least appealing thing first.

Narsil shook his head. Sometimes he pitied Jethro for his rejection by his old comrades in the Thieves' Guild, while at other times he was revolted by the Bosmer's bloodlust and disregard of the law. He sighed. "Antabolis it is, then."

He led the way through the streets of Balmora, back across the Odai. After climbing two flights of stairs sculpted into the hillside, they arrived outside the Fighters' Guild. Narsil nodded to Thalmir. "You lead the way. They'll probably be more flattered by the visit of a high-ranking mainland member of the guild and his fellow warriors than by a pair of released criminals and their escort." He smiled thinly. "Well, let's go."

The Porter was a cheerful-looking Redguard who noted Thalmir's shiny golden armor and filed him away in his mind under the category of "important people from the mainland." He gave Thalmir a small bow. "Good afternoon, sir. My name is Wayn. May I inquire as to whom you are? Obviously you are not from Vvardenfel, or I would know you." He smiled eagerly.

Thalmir matched his kind greeting with a smile and respectful bow. Approaching, they shook hands.

"I am from Cyrodiil, Mr. Wayn... and to you I am just an envoy for the Imperial Government." Thalmir said with well practiced speech.. one of the many things the Blade's train.

Thalmir looked around the well built building. The Fighters Guild was built in the Hlaalu fashion of smoothed and molded stone, however bore antiquity and of course many objects of interest. Thalmir, before becoming a Blade, belonged to the Cyrodiilian Fighters Guild.

"An envoy from the government?" Wayn looked momentarily nervous, then his smile returned. "Is anyone in trouble?"

"No," answered Narsil. "We are looking for Hashpat Antabolis. An Imperial official told us that he would have information that is of use to us. He will be compensated for his trouble, of course."

Wayn looked relieved. "I will bring you to him, then."

Antabolis was an Imperial of middle age and height, his brown hair receding slightly from his forehead. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and breeches, and in the middle of a drill with another woman of the Fighters' Guild, their bare feet shuffling across the padded floor as their practice swords clacked together. He looked up as Wayn brought the guests down.

"Ah, I see we have visitors," he said, handing off his practice sword and wiping his sweaty hands on the front of his shirt. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

As the other two members of the Guild exited the room, Narsil stepped forward. "My name is Narsil Strongwind.I've been sent by Caius Cosades to gather information on the Nerevarine prophecies. I was told that you would have information that you would be willing to exchange for a favor."

Antabolis smiled. "Caius knows me well by now. As it turns out, there is a favor you could do for me." He handed Narsil a sketch. "Do you know what this is?"

"A box," said Narsil, looking at it.

Antabolis shook his head, smiling. "That is a Dwemer puzzle box. They're extremely rare, but I've heard that there's one in the nearby ruins of Arkngthand, across the Foyada Mamaea from Fort Moonmoth. You see, I am a scholar of the Dwemer, and this box may hold the answer to several questions I have. Find the puzzle box, and you'll get the information you need."

"You have my word," said Narsil, saluting. He turned to go.

"Oh, and Master Strongwind?" said Antabolis. "Consider talking to Eydis upstairs. The Fighters' Guild could use someone of your dedication and caliber."

Narsil's face was unreadable. "I will."

As they left the guild, Narsil turned to his companions. "So, what do you make of all this?"

Jethro sighed in disappointment. This quest was truly full of more rubbish than he had first thought.

"Oh great, we're finding a mystical box now," Jethro said sarcastically. "Let's go and find it quickly, if we really have to. I'd rather avoid this pointless sidetracking, but I guess I have no other choice."

Jethro was a bit skeptical about this whole Nerevarine Prophecy nonsense that everyone kept talking about. You could tell the world was getting desperate if they were looking back on things written by a bunch of crazy old men.

Narsil sighed at Jethro's response. "Have faith. I'm sure that Cosades wouldn't be sending us after useless information. Besides, Vvardenfel is in a state of chaos, what with the monsters of Red Mountain and the blight storms. Maybe we need something like the Nerevarine to save us."

He sighed. "Well, friends, onward and upward. If we move now, we can be at Arkngthand before it gets too dark."