Strange Fascinations (KeeperxListener)

Nightmares... or Blessings

Your dreams were tormented with the thoughts of how you had met the jester. It had been well over a year now since you had first met him on the roadside, merely a man in peril. Everything was so clear, it was as if you were reliving those moments even though you already remembered them completely.

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You walked up the sparsely cobbled road that was in horrific repair on your way to retrieve some Dragonstone for the court wizard in Whiterun... whatever his name was again. Recently you had been dragged into this country against your own volition, and now you were running errands for the powers at be here. Why? Did you really want to help the people of this place... Skyrim? Or were you just curious what would happen if you played along?

Sighing heavily, you heard some cursing and cries of distress from up the road. It was nearby a farm, so you thought at first it might be the farmer in need of some help. Rounding the bend, you saw a little imperial man in red and black jester clothing pulling on his hat with a deep look of fear on his face. He danced around next to a cart on the side of the road, one wheel off of it and resting in the dirt. So these awful roads had their toll on the vehicles here as well; you weren't surprised.

The man spotted you and ran up to you, the palms of his hands pressed together in a pleading motion. "Poor Cicero is stuck! Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse! She's quite dead. I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But... aggh! Wagon wheel! Damnedest wagon wheel! It broke! Don't you see?" He guestured wildly at the wooden construct behind him.

You nodded and looked over his shoulder. His mother had died and this had happened? Poor man. His talk in third person concerned you, but you decided to ignore it. Certainly he was not the farmer here, why had they not come to help? Asking him this, he said that the man outright refused and wondered if you would perhaps be able to convince him. Determined, you walked past him to the farm and managed to do just that. The jester really seemed harmless after all.

Returning triumphantly, the small man danced around in happiness and laughed in excitement. "Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My mother thanks you!" Giving him a smile, you were about to go on your way, but was stopped by this Cicero running up to you and wrapping his arms about you.

Taken aback, you patted his arm after a moment, blushing heavily. "It really was nothing. Anything to help you get your mother to her resting place, its the right thing to do." Why were you more compelled to help this stranger than the general people of Skyrim? Something about him intrigued you, although you couldn't be too sure what.

He did pull away but grasped your left hand in one of his, reaching around to his belt to reveal a small bag that jingled when it moved. Cicero shoved it into your hand and used his other to curl your fingers around it. "Here, here. For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for a kind deed! And thank you! Thank you again."

You looked into it and blanched, 300 pieces! Tempted to return it, you sighed and pocketed it, realizing the Imperial guards had taken all you had when they arrested you. This would at least get you a few meals and a few places to stay. You wanted to thank him, but he had already run back to the wagon, the farmer making his way down the hill. Smiling after him, you turned down the road, hoping that you would come across this particular jester again.

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The door whispered inside of your head, "What is the music of life?" Astrid had told you about this; however, you seemed to know the answer as if by heart.