Chapter 581 - The Story of Jonrad (2): Uther Nere
Chapter 581 - The Story of Jonrad (2): Uther Nere
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Little did it matter that day to Hilda what Jonrad said. She just kicked everything in her way and walked out of the tavern in a mix of anger and pain.
"I can’t go back to Skyrim, I am not powerful enough yet." "Jon is safer away from us." "I still don’t have the power to protect you both." "Power is the most important thing right now."
Each word he said was only about "Power" this and "Power" that.
He was obsessed to no end with being powerful, he was in no way going to let anything stop in his way in order to gain this power he always obsessed over.
"You can call it whatever you want but what you are after will cost you more than what you can handle."
She said those words and left.
Around Jonrad were Tyr, Cassia, Glymet and Laaneth.
[A/n: Cassia from Hammerfell chapter. Laaneth from the College.]
"Go after her." Jonrad asked Tyr, Hilda’s brother, and the latter simply nodded before walking out.
Still, the situation was cold and awkward.
How did it reach this?
It started with Jonrad and Glymet operating in Wayrest as mercenaries for a couple of months so far. Jonrad was after a certain Magic Tome from the Magic Guild of Wayrest and Glymet was led here by chance to bump into Jonrad in a tavern some time ago.
Using Glymet’s mystic ability, Jonrad learned that the Magic Tome he is after is hidden deep in the vaults of King Barinya. A hopeless endeavor for the king was known to be selfish and manipulative.
Sometime later, Glymet managed to notify his old group to come and visit Wayrest telling them that Jonrad is with him. General Cassia of Cyrodiil and the ex-wife of Tyr agreed to visit, the same went for Tyr and Laaneth who are friends with Glymet from the Great War. Hilda came as well to see Jonrad after 7 years.
It was the most awkward of meetings for Jonrad and Hilda. He who chose not to return and she who had to give their son to an orphanage in order for them to survive. Aside from them, even the divorced Tyr and Cassia were acting like love birds let alone Glymet and Laaneth.
The conversation happened, the total mood sunk down. Hilda shouted, Jonrad calmly replied, she kicked the door out and he kept drinking alone.
It was a dark period of their lives.
Eight years have passed since they had Jonhild, Eight yet to come until they all reunite but this is a story about Jonrad’s dark times. While Hilda would spill blood and act like a pirate venting her rage and painting the sea red, Jonrad started to burn everything in his wake.
The King of Ash was a name to be feared during those times. He would pass by Thalmor envoys and patrols and strike them with his wrath leaving nothing but standing husks, the moment they are touched is the moment they crumble and disintegrate like Ash.
The other day, Glymet saw off Tyr, Cassia, Laaneth and Hilda while Jonrad chose to disappear somewhere only to end up discovered by Glymet watching Hilda as she boarded her ship.
"You should go fix things while you still can." Glymet said.
"I know." Jonrad replied.
"But you won’t?"
"I mustn’t. I am not ready."
Glymet nodded.
"That stinking luck of ours."
"Luck isn’t supposed to be stinking."
"No? We are both Serpent Stars so I guess we aren’t the one to speak about Luck anyway."
Glymet and Jonrad may seem different in many things but they saw eye to eye. Just like Jonhild and Jonrad, Glymet too was born under the same birth-sign, the Serpent. A Constellation that brings no peace.
Jonrad knew that if he goes back to his son, trouble will follow them wherever they go. Those murderous Clans will know that Jonhild is alive, gang up once again and try to do something. The Thalmor won’t sit still either with the Skyrim’s Most Wanted family emerging again.
The only way out of this was the way it began, Conflict, and that needs a lot of power to be won.
"Let’s get out of here."
Jonrad turned away with each step he took causing him an ever so painful agony. He would drink himself to death for the whole night until tomorrow after that.
The next day was a day that dragged both Jonrad and Glymet into a confrontation with Fate in the image of an old Breton man from the upper nobility of High Rock. His name is Uther Nere. He invited Glymet and Jonrad but Jonrad bailed out as he was still not okay from the whole drinking thing.
As Glymet approached Uther Nere in his manor, the two of them sat and started conversing about a job that can only be called a suicide mission.
"Come in, traveler. I’m so glad you got my invitation." Uther spoke.
"Thank you, Lord Uther." Glymet said as he surveyed the place with his eyes left and right sensing the presence of many others hiding behind the corners.
"Excuse my guards. Lately, things haven’t been looking up to my business as well as my safety. Too many concerns I may say." Uther explained.
"No need, milord. I hope you find peace of mind in both business and privacy." Glymet said with a tone that carried a bit of mockery.
"Please, help yourself." Uther invited Glymet to a plate of gr.a.p.es and a goblet of wine which the latter didn’t refuse.
The two men were sitting near a fireplace in two large chairs against each other. Glymet could see signs of worry and concern all over Uther’s face and started making preparations on how to press the rich old man for more money.
"I’ve been watching you for some time, and I think you’re just the person I need." Uther started speaking.
"Oh!" Glymet felt awkward about it as he blew the seeds of the gr.a.p.es into his fist and dumped them on the table, "I don’t appreciate it when my privacy is being violated."
"Excuse my caution, young man, but a man of my position should be very wary of those whom he deals with and this is a job for the best mercenary I can find." Uther replied.
"I understand but just to be clear from now on, I don’t like being supervised and bossed around." Glymet made a serious face as he pointed.
"You have my word of honor." Uther nodded then remembered something, "I thought you would be working with a partner; tall, Nord."
"Ah! My partner is having a long break sadly. He had some depressing words from Skyrim."
"Skyrim, yes. You’re from Skyrim as well, right?" Uther asked, trying to point out the resemblance of Glymet’s name and those of Nords.
"Me? I was born here in High Rock, in Dragonstar. You know the folk there, Bretons mix with Redguards and Nords and even Imperial. We pride ourselves to be the most diversified human community."
"Oh! True. The folk of Dragonstar are unique indeed. No one can tell what race you are without tracing your heritage."
"Indeed."
"It was nice getting introduced." Uther said as he drank, "I am Uther Nere of..."
"The Nere Trading Company, the largest network of traders in the Eastern Kingdoms and a major partner to the Crowns of Hammerfell."
"Ah! So you did some digging." Uther laughed as he didn’t expect less from Glymet who was smiling as well.
The two men seem to have high standards in taking careful steps in their deals which will fit this job royally.
"Let’s get down to business, shall we?" Uther said.
"Let’s hear it."
"I warn you, this task will be bloody, but the cause is just. It concerns an infamous band of assassins known as the Dark Brotherhood...
... The brotherhood is a foul death cult worshiping a living corpse known as the Night Mother...
... Some years ago my daughter, the poor misguided girl, murdered her own mother in order to gain their favor...
... She claimed to be recruited by the Night Mother’s Listener herself...
... Later, I learned that my daughter too had died pursuing this violent life...
... For years I have sought this Listener, but she is elusive...
... I want you to infiltrate the Brotherhood, find her, and lead me to her...
... Together, we will ensure that no other family suffers the same fate as mine...
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***
The last words Uther Nere said was on how to get into contact with the brotherhood.
"I know one sure way to get the Brotherhood’s attention. Find someone they were planning to assassinate, and kill them first. I would check the inn to see if anyone’s seen anything suspicious. I also know a man was murdered yesterday; try examining his body."
Glymet took those words and the other ones to his friend, Jonrad. The latter heard them while drinking and barely put his mind into them.
"You’re in or what?" Glymet asked.
"I don’t care about a damn bloody brotherhood." Jonrad replied with the stinky breath of a drunken man, "Let’s just go track down the damn Listener the old fashion way."
"Come on, man! You and I know very well how good of a deal this is. Stable funding for months... maybe a year or two. You get to dabble into something other than and less dangerous than these Labours of Boethiah you are doing. Who knows? The Gods may smile upon your sorry ass for getting the world of an evil cult."
"Yeah! The Gods." Jonrad mocked Glymet as he was about to drink from his tankard again but Glymet pulled it away.
"Sorry, mate. I need you sober and ."
"F.u.c.k off!" This horse piss can’t get me halfway to Mara’s lap let alone Dibella’s bosom." Jonrad scoffed at Glymet’s worries as he started drinking from the bottle.
"Your funeral, my friend." Glymet stood up, "Fine, how about we split up on this. I’ll ask around here in the inn about suspicious activities and you go put your spy skills to good use on that murder scene."
"I’ll finish this and go."
"Also do something about the smell, lighten or get laid or whatever. You look like a damn mess."
***
"And did you take his advice?" (Jon)
"More or less." (Jonrad)
"There is no more or less about getting laid." (Jon)
"Well, things escalated one way or the other later that night." (Jonrad)
"F.u.c.k you!" (Jon)
"Wha... Why?" (Jonrad)
"Just saying." (Jon)
Jon tried to console his s.e.x partner of earlier this night, Miranda, by parting her back only to feel a weird texture under her clothing.
"You... haven’t taken out the ropes?" (Jon whispering)
"... And you haven’t changed your leather pants." (Miranda whispering)
The two realized that they put on their clothes in hurry and are now trapped with their kinky uniforms barely hidden. The only thing they could do was to act natural.
***
Glymet approached the bartender readying a pair of gold septims in his palm before passing them on to the indifferent innkeep.
"Good evening."
"What do you want?"
Lining up the tankards after cleaning them, the innkeeper took the money from Glymet.
"I am looking for some rumors for work. Haven’t you seen any suspicious folk lately?"
The silly question made the innkeeper look at Glymet up and down while Jonrad shook his head to the pitiful attempt of fishing out information.
"The last suspicious folk I’ve been seeing lately are a few Wood Elves who haggle as much as Khajiit and a couple of mercenaries lazing around in my inn." The innkeeper said in patience, "You have to be more specific with ’Suspicious’, kid."
Glymet scratched his head realizing how silly it went so he decided to be even sillier.
"If it is more specific, have you heard of anyone who mentions things like Murder, Killing or maybe... Sithis?"
The question completely erased the grin off the innkeeper’s face just as Glymet hoped it would. Still, it was rather replaced with some grim expression.
"Piss off!" The innkeeper tossed back the coins at Glymet, "You and your friend need to get the f.u.c.k out."
"What... Come on, we’re customers here. At least give me a lead."
"You ask too many questions." The innkeeper slammed his counter table, "I think it’s time we taught you what we do to nosy people."
With that, a few buffed up thugs came from all the corners standing around Glymet. The situation looked threatening and escalating to...
A flying bottle!
***
"A what?" (Alina)
"Not my proudest moment, believe me." (Jonrad)
***
The bottle landed crashing onto the head of one of the goons and the one who threw it was the awkwardly stumbling Jonrad.
"Tavern War! For Skyrim! WOOO!" (Jonrad)
"""HAAA!!!""" (Everything Else)
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