Deathbeds[✓]

7;

Bishop woke up in a sour mood. His head felt like it was being split open with an ax from the damned rum they'd drank down at the docks. Light streamed in from the open windows and struck him dead in the eyes. He groaned and threw his arm over his face to shield the sun.

There was an incessant knocking somewhere in the inn and he grabbed the pillow from under his head to cover his ears. What in Oblivion was with all that racket?

The pillow did nothing to alleviate the damned knocking so he threw the pillow on the floor hotly and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and finally noticed the spot next to him was vacated. He placed his hand on the spot and it was still warm. Anais had only gotten up a few minutes ago.

Bishop quickly dressed in his dark leathers and went downstairs. Anais was sitting in the dining area with a steaming cup in front of her, her eyes absently staring down into its contents. He observed her for a moment. She wore her traveling clothes and she looked so beautiful, even if a little miserable.

Today was her big day; she was going to present herself to the court at the Blue Palace and resume her renowned title of Dragonborn. He shouldn't have been so hard on her about the duties she'd have to carry out here; he didn't know what it was like for her. He only had to worry about himself and he couldn't imagine the weight of Nirn on her shoulders, coupled with the news of her homeland under siege.

Bishop looked towards the alcove and was surprised to see Gulum-Ei sitting there. With one fleeting look back at Anais, he approached the Argonian and took the empty seat again.

"You look awful," Gulum-Ei commented, sipping on a small gold-trimmed glass of dark brown liquor.

Bishop waved it off with a flick of his hand indifferently. "What did you find?"

Gulum-Ei looked towards Anais' direction briefly before returning a smug grin towards Bishop. "That's her, isn't it?"

Anger was starting to creep up Bishop's veins, his patience lacking severely this morning and he snapped angrily at the Argonian, "cut to it, you damned lizard."

Gulum-Ei sat back and sipped his drink. "The one who wrote the letter, Yngvarr, is the leader of Clan Unnvaldr out of the island territory Falskaar. He and his band recently captured the Emerald Valley and besieged the whole island. Rumor has it he's looking for something known as the Heart of the Gods."

"The Heart of the Gods?" Bishop repeated. "What's that supposed to be?"

"Legend says that it was the heart of Shor, given to a mortal to make the island hospitable. They say that it's sealed away somewhere on the island and requires five keys to unlock the portal. My sources tell me that Yngvarr has three keys and is in search of the fourth and fifth."

Bishop sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, his gaze shifting to Anais. She wasn't alone anymore and Bishop bristled at seeing Casavir sitting across from her. He was speaking animatedly, and Bishop could tell by the fake smile she presented the paladin that Anais was in no mood for entertainment. He better rescue her pretty soon.

He returned his eyes to the Argonian. "Have you heard anything about a place called Amber Creek?"

Sensing the trail of his thoughts, Gulum-Ei frowned. "The people of Falskaar are told to either defect to Yngvarr's power trip or starve to death. I can't imagine the decisions those people have to make."

Bishop nodded and sighed. The heavy feeling in his stomach mixed with the fact that he wasn't sure how to tell Anais this information. He always had the option to not tell her, but something in Bishop's heart told him that was not wise. Anais trusted him, maybe against his better judgement.