The brilliant orange rays of the sunrise were finally reaching Lakeview Manor. Teldryn Sero, former mercenary, leaned back languidly in his porch chair. After months of traipsing throughout Skyrim with the Dragonborn, bathing in rivers and sleeping on hay piles, he was finally sitting on the terrace of a proper estate. No, not an estate, more than that; a home. A home where a retired sellsword could get very comfortable.

The door to the porch opened behind Teldryn, but he didn't move his eyes from the setting sun. The chair next to him creaked as Jaxius Amaton sat down. For a long time, the two friends said nothing to each other. The sunlight was reflecting off of Lake Illinalta now, down the hill from the house, and it became evident to Teldryn how the manor got its name. Before this year he had always thought of Skyrim as a cold and bitter wasteland. Sitting on the Dragonborn's porch, though, enjoying this view, the sellsword had to admit that the land of the Nords had its moments.

"The house is beautiful, Jax." Teldryn finally said. "Forgive me any complaints I might have made about your construction skills."

Jax chuckled. "You don't know how much that means to me, coming from the snobbiest Dunmer in Tamriel."

"It's not my fault if I choose to appreciate the finer things in life. I have a very discerning taste."

"Is that what you call it?"

Jax produced a bottle of wine from a fold of his cloak and poured into the two cups on the porch table. Teldryn picked up one of the cups and eyed it gingerly.

"This isn't sujamma, is it? I can't stand that dreadful swill."

"Don't worry, it's from Cyrodiil." Jax sipped his wine. "I'm in agreement that we Dunmer should stay away from the delicate practice of brewery."

"Good, good." Teldryn watched as a carriage came into view on the road down the hill, the rear stacked high with goods. "I assume that we're going to relax here for a few days, at least? I need some time alone with a real bed."

"Unless I receive word of any dragon attacks nearby, then yes."

"It's a wonder that there are any left at the rate we put them down." Teldryn drank some of his wine. "After Alduin and Miraak, you'd think the damned lizards would take a hint and fly somewhere else."

The Dragonborn looked down, troubled. "The ones that did not join Paarthurnax in peace are furious, confused. Alduin brought them into an era that makes no sense to their way of life. They see all of these little people that supposedly rule the world now, and it enrages them. The urge to dominate is almost overpowering." His voice became almost sorrowful as he finished talking.

Teldryn glanced concernedly at his friend. "It almost sounds like you speak from personal experience, Jax. You know that you can depend on me if you're in trouble, right? We're partners now. We have to watch each others backs."

Jax smiled weakly. "Teldryn, there's something-"

A bloodcurdling scream broke the evening silence and sent both men to their feet. They rushed to the edge of the porch and looked over. On the road below, two men in ragged leather armor were attacking the merchant caravan. A woman was dragging herself off the road, blood trailing behind her. A man in farmer's clothes and two teenage boys armed with rusty shortswords faced off with the bandits.

"We have to get down there." Teldryn growled, turning back to enter the manor.

Jax shook his head. "No time."

"What?"

"Stand in front of me."

Teldryn moved accordingly, his fists clenching in impatience. "I don't see how this gets us there any faster."

"Hush, Teldryn. Get ready to swim." Jaxius seemed to think for a moment, then adjusted his position and nodded to himself. "Alright, here goes nothing."

A horrible comprehension was reaching the sellsword. Oh, no. "Jaxius, you can't be thinking of-"

"FUS RO DAH!"

For months Teldryn had witnessed bandits, reavers, and other classes of degenerate go flying high from the power of the Dragonborn. Now, he was finding himself in much the same situation. The porch of Lakeview was rushing away at an alarming rate, and Teldryn soared past the treeline at speed. He heard the clashing of swords below him, saw the sky spinning above, and then he was hitting the water of Lake Illinalta.

The sellsword was underwater for a moment, and then he pulled himself sputtering on to the shore. The sound of battle brought his purpose to mind, and Teldryn quickly drew his sword and rushed on to the road.

"You picked the wrong road today, fetcher!" He snarled at the filthy bandit, pushing past the farmer and his sons. After facing the fanatical cultists of Miraak, countless undead draugr, and quite a few dragons, these filthy bandits were no match for Teldryn. The first vagabond clumsily blocked his oncoming sword, but never saw the firebolt forming in the Dunmer's offhand. Teldryn shot the projectile straight into the bandit's chest, sending him flying off of the road. His friend, obviously a little smarter than his counterpart, backed away at Teldryn's approach.

"Easy, friend!" The bandit barked at him. "No reason we both can't walk away alive, with some extra gold to boot."

Teldryn snorted, already gathering magicka for another firebolt. "As tempting as that offer is, I think I'll pass. It would take a lot more gold than these farmers have for me to sell off my pride."

"Look out!" One of the farmboys shouted from behind him. Teldryn moved to the right a bit to look back at the boy, and that's why the arrow struck him in the shoulder instead of in the heart. He hissed in pain and fell to his knees, feeling acrid poison already running through his veins. Looking up quickly, Teldryn saw an archer hidden in the treeline. He scrambled backward, narrowly avoiding the next arrow.

"Your pride worth much now, elf?" The bandit with the sword smirked at the former sellsword, gradually advancing. By the way he held his blade, Teldryn could tell he was no amateur. The farmer and his sons would be cut down in moments.

"Run." Teldryn ordered crisply, gesturing at the farmer. "You have lost your cart. Grab your wife and escape with your sons, while you still have your lives."

The farmer, an old Breton by the looks of it, nodded gravely and jumped into action. By the time the bandit was standing over Teldryn, the old man and his family were making haste down the road to Falkreath.

"A shame." The bandit said, watching them depart. "My friend in the woods was looking for a woman to warm his bed tonight."

"I'm sure he could find a nice sheep or goat to take her place." Teldryn murmured, blood flowing heavily now from his shoulder wound. His mind was growing clouded, preventing him from drawing on his magicka reserves. "I don't suppose you boys have very high standards."

"Just one thing I want to know before I put this sword through your belly." The bandit said, curious. "How in Oblivion did you get down here? Elf magic? Damnedest thing I've ever seen."

"I had a bit of help." Teldryn could feel the distant beat of hooves through the ground, and his heart dared to hope.

"Help?" The outlaw remarked, glancing down the road. His eyes widened as Shadowmere appeared around the bend, with Jax riding fiercely astride her. The Dunmer Dragonborn had his sword drawn, and on top of the speeding demon horse he looked almost a Prince of Oblivion himself. The vagabond stared down the road a moment in shock before pointing with his sword.

"Shoot the horse!" He yelled to his friend in the trees. An arrow flew out, missing Shadowmere by two meters at least. Teldryn could feel the hoof beats through the road now as they rapidly approached.

The outlaw let his sword fall to Teldryn's neck. "Stop, or he dies!"

Jax looked up at the outlaw, bringing Shadowmere to a sudden halt.

"TIID KLO UL!"

Everything stopped, except for the Dragonborn. The sword at Teldryn's neck slowly pressed in, as light as a hand's touch. Shadowmere stumbled in slow motion, but his rider leapt from the saddle at far greater speed. The outlaw looked on in silent horror as Jax approached, smoothly drawing his greatsword. By the time the outlaw's sword had pressed hard enough against Teldryn's neck to imitate a shaving blade, the vagabond was being split apart by the quiet fall of the Dragonborn's sword.

Time resumed with a scream as the bandit in the trees ran off screaming down the road. A splash of blood hit Teldryn's face and a dull sword clattered to the road next to him.

"You can get that one, Shadowmere." Jax said. The black horse sped off down the cobblestones, no doubt eager for blood. That beast enjoys killing a little too much for my comfort.

The Dragonborn helped Teldryn to kneel and pressed a potion bottle into his hands. The Dunmer drank it gratefully and felt strength slowly returning to his sore body.

"Many thanks, sera."

Jax pulled him to his feet and they surveyed the violent scene. Bodies lay baking in the morning sun, and scattered goods from the farmer's cart littered the road. The thrashing of hooves and a sudden cry told them that Shadowmere had found his prey.

"And this started out as such a peaceful morning," Teldryn said. "Now we've created this great eyesore in front of the lake."

"Don't worry, Teldryn." The Dragonborn clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'll have one of the housecarls come down and clear it all later. For now, let's get back to the manor. We still have that wine to polish off."

"I suggest we use the roads to get there this time, as normal people do." He gave Jax a sideways glance. "For the sake of my aching carcass if nothing else."

They started off down the road, with the lake glittering behind them.