The Equine Scrolls: SkyFiM

by FireOfTheNorth

Chapter 6: Marekarth

Chapter VI: Marekarth
“The Karth belongs to the Cloven Hoof!”

Marekarth.

There wasn’t much I knew about the great city in Horizon’s west. It was run by Jarl Glamus, that much I had picked up. I also knew it was nestled in the nearly impassable mountains that ringed the western border of the province. Nothing could prepare me for it.

The only paths to the city ran through the mountains from the north through Karthpasture and the south through Foalkreath. The Foalkreath path seemed more logical to me, being far shorter, but Jarl Valor’s Blade didn’t want to risk infuriating Jarl Sibli, so he sent his soldiers to the north.

I took the more reasonable route, allowing me to pass through Riverwood as well, and made it to Marekarth before the sun had set over the jagged mountains. Thankfully, my journey was uneventful, and I encountered no beasts or bandits as I followed the mountain paths to the valley the city was built in.

My breath was taken away as I came within sight of it. At the end of the valley, Marekarth was constructed in a natural hollow. A waterfall poured off the cliffs behind it and ran through the city.

Extremely different than Whitetrot, Marekarth was not constructed of timber. In fact, my first glance revealed no wood had been used in its construction at all. Marekarth was built from stone almost (but not quite) as ancient as Blank Flanks Barrow.

The stone was bare and lifeless, but decorated all over with exquisite bronze-work. Bronze domes capped the extraordinarily decorated building at the city center as well as a soaring watchtower. Some of it was tarnished, but much if it still shone with its original luster.

An ancient minotaur city if I ever saw one. And it appeared to be on fire.

Smoke and flames billowed up from within the city and pony screams floated on the wind. A dark emerald dragon gave a roar as it swooped over the city, drowning it in yet another gout of flame.

I galloped toward the city gates as fast as I could. The burnt corpses of guards littered the roadway as I passed by. I paid them no mind and kept my thoughts focused on the dragon laying waste to the city.

“What does it want?” somepony whimpered as I passed a mostly intact shelter near the gate.

Killing the dragon was important, but rushing in unprepared could be disastrous. Whatever this surviving pony could tell me would be helpful. Turning aside from the gate, I trotted into the small, stone building.

“Who are you?” a gold-brown mare asked as she scuttled back into the building.

“Sapphire, Thane of Whitetrot,” I introduced myself before I stopped to think about how announcing an alliance with the Jarl of another hold could affect my predicament.

“I’m here to slay the dragon,” I added hesitantly.

“Slay the dragon?” the mare asked, “You?”

“Yes,” I replied in an annoyed manner.

“Our best soldiers couldn’t kill the dragon, what makes you think you can?”

“I’ve already killed one before,” I sighed, regretting starting this conversation, “And you’ll be able to tell me anything you know about it that I can use as an advantage.”

“You killed a dragon?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I replied, “Now what do you know about this dragon.”

“Not much,” she said, giving a shrug, “It showed up last night and attacked the town for a few hours before leaving. It was gone all morning so we thought it was safe to come out, but then it came back and it seems to want to level the city.”

“Anything helpful you know about it?” I asked.

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

“Stay put and lie low until it’s dead or gone,” I said, giving a frustrated sigh.

Stepping out of the shelter, I approached the heavy bronze gates of the city and pushed them open.

I nearly choked on the noxious fumes as I entered what was left of the city square. Sulfur mixed with the smell of charred pony flesh. I forced myself not to gag as I walked through the smoke.

Through the haze I could see the dragon as it swooped over the city, landing atop the watchtower and cracking the dome. As I made my way up through the city, I saw the dragon reach into the tower with its head and throw a screaming archer to her death.

The path to the upper level of the city was complex, forcing me to crisscross several walkways and zigzag up walls. At last I made it to the upper level, where I could see several ponies in Marekarth guard armor standing outside of ornately decorated bronze doors built into the mountain’s face. It appeared to be a last stand outside of the Jarl’s palace.

As I climbed the last steps the dragon gave a roar and leaped off the watchtower, giving a spin before landing in front of the guards. A blast of flame burned about half of them into cinders, but the others circled around to attack the dragon’s sides. Spreading its wings, the dragon threw the remaining guards away, smashing them against walls and throwing them over balconies. It looked like it would be up to me.

Pulling out Calcion’s Cleaver, I charged the dragon. The sword smashed against the side of its head at the same time my Sparks spell hit it in the eye. Scales snapped off as the dragon threw back its head, giving a roar that shook the city. I barely rolled away in time as it swept its head toward me.

Opening its maw, it released a wave of flames at me. I managed to dodge the worst of the blast, but some of the flames found their way through the chinks in my armor, blistering my flesh. I cried out in pain as the armor rubbed against the raw patches, but kept moving.

The dragon swept a spiny claw at me, but I was well clear, and took advantage of the dragon’s foolishness to slash at it with my sword. The dragon drew back its claw and growled in barely suppressed pain. More flames followed me, which I easily dodged.

“FUS,” my mind told me, but I had no time to act on the thought as the dragon snapped at me.

My sword glanced off the dragon’s tooth and I nearly lost my magical grip on it. Even an ancient dragon sword couldn’t hurt a dragon’s fangs, apparently. I aimed a quick slash at the dragon’s neck before rolling out of the way of its flames.

“FUS,” my mind told me again, which was becoming really annoying. I silenced the little pony in my head as the dragon’s wing smashed into me.

I rolled and tumbled across the age-worn stone until I came to a stop just before the edge of the ledge. The ground shook as the dragon approached. I directed a blast of fire into its face as it grew closer.

Of course, the flames did nothing to the fireproof lizard other than to infuriate it, but it bought me enough time to force myself to my hooves and retrieve Calcion’s Cleaver. Galloping around the dragon, I cut through its wing. Hot sticky blood splashed from the wound onto me, causing my armor to smoke menacingly and my burns to become even more agitated.

I directed my Shout at the dragon as it turned toward me.

<FUS!>

The air rushed out from me and smashed into the dragon’s head, snapping it up unnaturally. Scales peeled off and I thought I heard bones crunching. The dragon looked dumfounded, and then even angrier. I directed another Shout at it.

“Fus!” I yelled, but no force slammed into the dragon’s face.

Apparently I couldn’t do it again so soon. My head felt strangely empty as I grasped for the FUS-thoughts to fashion a Shout. I had to roll aside to keep the dragon from turning me to ash, but eventually the thoughts and memories reformed into something I could recognize.

<FUS!>

The dragon reeled once again as FUS pounded into it. But this time the dragon was prepared. Seconds after my shout hit it, its tail whipped around and threw me across the courtyard. I heard a bone snap as I slammed against a wall.

I grimaced as pain lanced up my right hindleg. Looking up, I saw I was near the door to the large structure in the center of town. Limping, I pulled the door open and jumped through before the dragon scorched the exterior wall.

I cast a quick healing spell to reset the bones in my leg. A couple healing potions repaired the rest of the damage, including my burns, bruises, and the various nicks and scrapes I had gotten in the fight. Now that I was back in fighting condition, I took a look around as I caught my breath.

Candles flickered in alcoves throughout the silent hall. At the other end of the building were several rows of benches filled with ponies in prayer, probably for the deliverance of their town. Past them a priestess stood in front of a shrine to Difillya. It appeared I had found Marekarth’s temple.

“How did you get here?” the priestess asked as she noticed my presence.

My answer was cut off as the dragon’s claws scraped across the roof. Frightened whinnies broke out and the priestess tried to calm the assembled ponies. I heard pleas for help to all the Equines (including Talhooves.)

Utter panic broke out and the ponies stampeded to the front of the temple as the dragon broke through the ceiling. Through the screams, pieces of stone and tarnished bronze rained down. I galloped through the chaos and out the door.

Once outside, I fired an arrow at the dragon. It continued tearing at the temple as my arrows bounced off, having no effect. Giving up on my bow, I pulled out Calcion’s Cleaver.

“Hey you!” I yelled at the dragon, lifting the sword over my head. Hopefully I could draw it away from the townsponies.

Lightning jumped from the tip of the sword and slammed into the dragon. The lightning bolt burned across its side and up its neck, shattering and melting the scales. Giving a roar of pain and fury, it jumped off the temple and flapped straight at me.

Pulling out my Axe of Whitetrot to augment Calcion’s Cleaver, I brought them both up as the dragon approached. Jumping to the side, I cut both my blades into its wing, tearing, electrocuting, and lighting the wing on fire.

I ducked to avoid the dragon’s tail as it swept over me. I held my sword up as it swung back. I met substantial resistance as the blade impacted, but I fought to maintain my magical grip on my weapon. Scales cracked and flesh gave way. At last the bone snapped under the force of the blade and the end of the dragon’s tail was sliced off.

I didn’t have much of a chance to celebrate as its wing hit me over the back of the head, scraping my face across the stone. Spitting blood, I got to my hooves and picked my sword up from where it had fallen. One of my ribs snapped as the dragon’s head slammed into me.

When my rolling came to a stop, the dragon was standing over me. Pulling out my iron axe, I slammed it into the dragon’s eye. It growled and pulled back, dripping its foul-smelling blood everywhere. Standing up, I launched a Shout at its face.

<FUS!>

It recoiled, but apparently had had enough fighting with me. It opened its jaw as wide as it could and lunged forward at me. As the mouth enveloped me, I stabbed Calcion’s Cleaver up through the roof of the dragon’s mouth and into its brain.

Giving a groan, wisps of smoke drifted out of the dragon’s throat as it died. Rolling to the side, I barely managed to avoid being crushed by the dragon’s corpse.

Using a rag, I cleaned my sword as the dragon was consumed in flames. Once again, unearthly streams of light departed the dragon’s body and surrounded me. All its memories suddenly became mine. As the images faded from my sight, I saw several ponies standing in front of me, staring incredulously at the dragon.

Upon closer inspection, I could see that the majority of the ponies were dressed in the armor of Marekarth guards. Apparently not all of them had been outside fighting the dragon. The few ponies that weren’t guards were wearing ornate robes and jeweled amulets. It looked to be Jarl Glamus and his entourage.

“You,” a chocolaty-brown earth pony in a crown I took to be Jarl Glamus said, “You killed this dragon?”

“Yes,” I said, approaching the skeleton.

My old war axe was destroyed, but I was able to salvage several jewels and a hefty amount of gold coins from what had once been the dragon’s stomach.

“How did you do this?” the Jarl asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Sapphire,” I said, “Jarl Valor’s Blade sent me to help.”

“Thank you Sapphire. You saved our city. If there’s anything we can do to help you, name it.”

“Well,” I said, looking up at the darkening sky, “I could use a place to stay tonight.”

“Take your pick,” he said, motioning at the door to the palace behind him, “Any room is yours, except for mine of course.”

Giving the Jarl my thanks, I entered Marekarth’s palace. After walking around a bit, I discovered it wasn’t so much a palace as an elaborately decorated minotaur fortress converted for pony use. It was odd walking through bronze-coated halls designed for bipedal creatures that stood twice an average pony’s height.

I finally found a vacant room lavishly decorated in rustic earth pony style. Setting down my saddlebags I reset my ribs and healed all my wounds. I had barely finished when a Marekarth courier invited me for a feast that night in the grand hall.

At the meal, Jarl Glamus seemed to have an inexhaustible list of questions to ask me, from how I had killed the dragon outside, to where I had come from. While he seemed enthusiastic, his other guests gave me the feeling that a unicorn like me was unwelcome among so many earth ponies.

After I had stayed as long as I felt comfortable, I excused myself to my room. I wasn’t ready to sleep, so I pondered my next steps. Where was I to go from here? Back to Whitetrot to wait for couriers to bring me news of dragon attacks? Would I rise in fame until somepony was sure to notice I was a blank flank and I’d lose everything? Or should I go to the Greymanes, and learn more about how to use my “Voice”? I wasn’t sure.

Before I went to sleep, I started reading the book I’d gotten back in Blank Flanks Barrow: A Brief History of the Empire; Vol. I. The first chapter detailed the early life of Talhooves, when he was just an earth pony living in Horizon. I knew he would later go on to found the Alicorn Empire, but for now I just contented myself with learning about his foalhood in ancient Windhorn. It was so much easier to focus on the past than the future.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

When I awoke the next morning, I left the bronze halls of the palace and explored the city. After walking around a few times, I had familiarized myself with the layout of the city enough that I no longer found the twisted and overlapping walkways confusing.

The town seemed fairly empty as I explored, no doubt due to the recent dragon attack. But enough ponies had survived to start rebuilding. Most of the work was focused on the temple, but crews of ponies helped to clear rubble from the city square, too. It wasn’t long before it was clear and a market was set up and doing business.

I was just selling off the last of the rubies I’d taken from the dragon’s skeleton when the mare I was doing business with gasped like she’d seen a ghost and ducked behind her stand. I turned, hoping to the Equines that it wasn’t another dragon. Not so soon.

Instead, I saw a band of scruffy-looking figures standing just inside the city gate. They were about the size of ponies, but their coats were scraggly and unkempt, the hooves were split down the middle, and horns sprouted from each of their heads.

Not dragons, goats.

“Down with ty-y-y-y-y-yrants!” one bleated out, pulling out a rough sword.

All the goats were wearing cobbled-together armor and pulled their weapons in unison.

“The Cloven Hoof is in the city!” somepony yelled, and a bell rang out soon after.

Marekarth guards charged down the myriad walkways and stairs to attack the pack of goats now moving toward the market stalls. And me.

I pulled my steel sword out as one charged me, but the goat never made it to me. His head was separated from his shoulders by a guard with a greatsword. The rest of the guards fell upon the remaining goats. Though they continued to fight, they were far outnumbered and outmatched. Eventually, every goat in the square was dead.

“Filthy creatures,” one of the guards said, kicking a goat’s body as she walked away.

The goat she kicked coughed up blood and its chest began to slowly rise and fall again, but she didn’t seem to notice. Once all the guards had left, I gingerly tiptoed through the bodies until I came to the one that was still alive.

“You ponies . . . will never learn,” it forced out softly as it noticed me standing over it, “This land . . . isn’t yours. It belongs . . . to the Cloven Hoof . . . and you will pay dearly-y-y for your treachery-y-y-y.”

“Treachery?” I asked the dying goat.

“A unicorn?” he said, pushing his eyes open, “Maybe you’ll believe the truth. How these earth ponies have abused us, betrayed us. How they-y-y-y . . .”

His eyes went glassy and his breathing stopped before he could tell me what the earth ponies had done. Or at least, what he wanted me to believe the earth ponies had done. The town seemed nice enough, and the goats were the one’s who’d attacked it. It was probably nothing, but I still felt the urge to get to the bottom of it.

I returned to the market stall I had been at before and finished my business with the mare. She seemed pretty shaken up by the intrusion of the goats into the town, and gave me more gold for my jewels than she probably would’ve in other circumstances, but I wasn’t going to complain.

“What was with those goats?” I asked her as she shakily stowed her goods away.

“That’s the Cloven Hoof,” she said, “Uncivilized goats live in the mountains all through the Karth. All they ever do is attack towns and caravans, killing respectable ponies for some twisted belief that just because they lived here first, they own the place.”

That made a little more sense out of what the goat had said about the land belonging to them, but I had to agree with this earth pony that killing ponies wasn’t the way to solve the problem. Still, it seemed like there was more to it than this. Taking land wasn’t exactly a betrayal, was it?
I decided to ask somepony else. A buck at the inn had pretty much the same answer for me as the mare outside. As did the blacksmith, the owner of the trading company and his son, a bread salesman, and the Priestess of Difillya.

As I prepared to leave the temple, I found my way blocked by two burly Marekarth guards.

“The Jarl wishes to speak to you,” one said in a rather menacingly manner.

“Sure, why didn’t he just ask?” I said, trying to dispel the tension.

It didn’t work. The two guards escorted me out of the temple and into Jarl Glamus’s great hall. The Jarl sent everypony out when he saw I had arrived. Lastly, the two guards that’d brought me in stepped out of the hall and closed the heavy bronze doors, leaving me alone with the Jarl and extremely nervous.

“Come closer,” he commanded, “Or do you expect us to carry out a conversation by shouting across the room?”

With sweat rolling down my neck, I obeyed and trotted up until I was standing in front of a stone, bronze, and obsidian throne meant for a much larger creature than a pony. From the elevated seat, the Jarl was able to look down on me.

“So, I understand you have some questions,” he said.

I nodded.

“Well, fire away!” he said, lounging back and flashing a smile.

This wasn’t at all what I had expected from the somber tone of his guards and his frantic haste to rush everypony else off.

“Well,” I said, swallowing hard to dispel the lump in my throat, “I want to know about the Cloven Hoof.”

“I figured as much,” the Jarl said, “My guards say you’ve been asking all around town about them, stirring up quite a bit of panic.”

“Panic?”

“Yes, you see, everypony in Marekarth knows the Cloven Hoof is a threat. But to be reminded of it constantly can drive anypony insane. That’s why I felt it was necessary to answer whatever questions you may have before you inadvertently cause any more trouble with your questioning.”
“What if I still have questions after this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can assure you, you won’t. I’m sure I’ll be able to answer any questions you have about the Cloven Hoof. Now, like I said before, fire away.”

“Well, who are they exactly?”

“They are the goats native to the Karth who disagree with our settlement of their homeland. But, instead of discussing it like civilized beings, they launch attacks on camps, mines, towns, traders, any pony settlement they can find. And do they take over the places they capture? No, they kill every pony they find and leave.”

“Marekarth is the prize for them. Centuries ago, it was their capital, back when they had some sort of steady civilization. And they want it back extremely badly. Now, with this dragon attack just following an outbreak of disease, there’re less ponies living here than ever before. And I fear the Cloven Hoof will take advantage of it to take the city. Those goats at the gate were only the first to come.”

“I heard something about the earth ponies here . . . betraying the Cloven Hoof at some point,” I said, hoping to hide where I’d gotten the information, “What’s with that.”

“I don’t know where you heard that,” the Jarl said, stiffening slightly, “I hope not from any of my citizens, but the only betrayal we’ve committed against them is one made up from centuries of bitterness after Marekarth was taken fairly.”

“I think that’s all I need to know,” I said.

“Good,” the Jarl replied, “And remember, if you have any more questions about this, come to me. We don’t need the townsponies worrying more than they have to.”

I nodded my understanding and left the great hall, passing by the burly guards on my way out.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

Tightening the straps on my saddlebags, I prepared to leave Marekarth. I had restocked on healing potions and food for my journey and intended to return to Whitetrot. Maybe Jarl Valor’s Blade would have something for me to do. And, if not, I could settle into Breezehome and build a life for myself in Horizon. I hoped to make it to Foalkreath before nightfall. Hopefully Berefs would allow me to stay with him, otherwise I’d be forced to lodge at the Dead Pony’s Drink.

“Psst,” somepony tried to catch my attention as I neared the city gates.

Turning around, I caught a glimpse of a powder blue earth pony mare motioning for me to come closer. As I began to trot in her direction, she slipped through a door built into the mountain.

Once she had disappeared, I stopped. Why was I following this pony, anyhow? I was supposed to be on my way to Foalkreath. If I didn’t leave soon, it would be dark by the time I reached the town. My curiosity finally got the better of me, and I trotted after the mare.

The building she had ducked into turned out to be an alchemy shop. Dried plants hung from hooks in the ceiling. A pony-built alchemy lab looked out of place among the minotaur decorations. The pony who’d motioned me in was standing behind a sales counter covered in phials filled with powder. If she had just called me in to buy something, I was going to be extremely angry.

“You, you’re the one who was asking about the Cloven Hoof, right?” she asked as I approached.

“Yeah,” I said, “Only unicorn in Marekarth. I shouldn’t be hard to miss.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” she said, waggling her hoof at me, “There are a few unicorns and pegasi who live here, but they only come out to do their business at night, to avoid the die-hard Stormcloud supporters.”

“Really,” I said worriedly. Were there more ponies here like the ones that had kidnapped Serenity?

“But that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” the mare said, “Like me, you seem to think there’s more to this Cloven Hoof situation than the Jarl lets on.”

“Who are you, anyway?”

“Name’s Sanius,” the mare said, extending a hoof, “Yours?”

“Sapphire.”

“The Jarl’s hiding something, I know it,” Sanius said, “Maybe with your help, Sapphire, I can figure out what.”

“What makes you think the Jarl’s hiding something?”

“I’ve heard guards talking about a ‘Hall of Forbidden Records’. There wouldn’t be forbidden records if the Jarl wasn’t hiding something.”

“Where is the Hall of Forbidden Records?”

“As far as I can figure out, beneath the Hall of Records in the center of the city, below the Temple of Difillya. Of course, we’ll have to search for it at night, when we can be sure nopony will be using the Hall of Records.”

“So . . . what do you need me for?”

“Who knows how many records we’ll have to sift through before we find what we’re looking for? Two sets of eyes can do it much quicker.”

“All right,” I said, “When do you want to do this?”

“Meet me two hours after sunset, outside the Hall of Records.”

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

Two hours had passed since the sun had disappeared over the mountains. Looking up, I could see bright waves of light flowing through the sky over the spires of Marekarth. The city was nearly silent.

After the sun had set, everypony returned to their homes. Then, just as Sanius had said, the town’s horned and winged inhabitants had cautiously exited their homes and quickly made their way to the few shops still open. Then, as swiftly as they had emerged, they disappeared back into their homes until tomorrow night.

It seemed a terribly lonely and depressing existence, being only able to come out at night. If things were this bad here, what were they like in Windhorn, the heart of Jarl Stormcloud’s rebellion? Especially since this was an Imperial city. A guard in Imperial Legion armor would walk by from time to time, but I soon realized it was the same guard. The Emperor must’ve trusted this town extremely if he had only sent one guard to fortify it.

I nearly jumped when Sanius emerged from the shadows beside me, wearing a black cloak.

“Ready?” she asked.

I nodded and pushed open the door to the Hall of Records.

At this time of night, the city’s center for storing books and scrolls was completely deserted. Candles mounted on the walls had burned down to stubs, giving off an eerie, flickering light. Several books lay open on tables, but otherwise it seemed the Hall was unused even in daytime hours.

Sanius began to search for anything suspicious and I did the same. A few books and scrolls had earned the right to be displayed on pedestals. A copy of the Marekarth Charter and the White-Gold Concordat sat side by side, no doubt irking the city’s Stormcloud supporters.

I circled the library three times and still found nothing that would indicate a Hall of Forbidden Records lay beneath our hooves. I was getting frustrated and knocked a stack of Minotauran Inquiries off the heavy stone table in the center of the room.

As the heavy books fell, they dragged the ornate tapestry draped over the table off. With the covering gone, I could see an out of place groove cut around three sides of the table’s top. Bending down, I followed the grooves as they ran down the side of the table and converged on a latch on the floor.

“Hey Sanius, look at this,” I said, calling her over.

“You found it!” she exclaimed when she saw what I’d discovered.

Depressing the latch with my magic, I unhinged the table, revealing a ladder leading down. Levitating a candlestick, I climbed down into the Hall of Forbidden Records. Sanius soon joined me in the tiny room.

It was nowhere near as large as the Hall of Records above us, and only a few scrolls were placed in the nooks along the walls. I pulled a cobweb-covered one out and started to read.

With the destruction of the Red Mountain of Morrowhinny, there is no suitable site to destroy the records housed in this hall. I have tasked my court wizard with discovering a new way to dispose of these heinous documents, but until such a method is found, all forbidden records must remain stored here. Nopony must ever find this place. The guard shall be doubled.
-Jarl Eranus, 4E 4

That explained what all the forbidden documents were doing here, but it mentioned nothing about the Cloven Hoof. I pulled out another document to investigate.

Two more documents yielded no more information about the Cloven Hoof, only banned reports on the Minotaur ruins deep within the mountains. Finally, I found one that seemed helpful.

Treaty of Marekarth
Signed 21st of Last Seed, 4E 173

In exchange for assistance in the Great War against the Pegasari Dominion, the Jarl of Marekarth will accept all goats, formerly known as Cloven Hoof Rebels, as lawful citizens of the Karth. In addition, the goats of the territory will be permitted to live in and among pony citizens in both Marekarth and Karthpasture. This is the final and unbreakable decision of Jarl Hanus and will be upheld even in the case of his death.

Signed, Jarl Hanus of Marekarth
Signed, Ivon Strong-horn, King of the Cloven Hoof

“This is it!” I called out, “The Treaty of Marekarth!”

Sanius moved in closer to take a look.

“The Jarl of Marekarth agreed to let the Cloven Hoof live in Marekarth if they fought in the Great War,” I explained, “But then he went back on his promise and shut them out.”

“Well, no wonder the goats are mad,” Sanius said, “They do have a right to live here.”

“Yes,” I nodded my agreement, “Everypony needs to know about this. We have to-”

“-do nothing.” A gruff voice finished for me.

I turned around to see one of the burly Marekarth guards standing behind me along with three others. How did they get down here without us hearing? My wondering was put to a stop as his hoof came down on my head and I blacked out.

Level Up
Health: 130 Stamina: 110 Magicka: 120
New Perk: Blades of Fury [Light Weapons] -- When using a weapon with a blade (sword, war axe, or knife) you can swing 20% faster.
Dragon Soul collected
New Quest: Nopony Escapes from Doompit Mine -- Escape from Doompit Mine