Broga leapt high from a mahogany tree in the forest with a glare lingering in his crimson eyes. He landed with a heavy thud yet the shock had not hurt him at all. He stormed over to the dead cadaver of the Daedroth and quickly his eyes flew up to the murderer. "Why did you kill one of our own agents?!"
Xilivicus narrowed his eyes, "It was going to kill her! Lord Dagon said to bring her back alive! Also, if the guard was to see it, he would alert all of the Imperial City and everyone would know that we are here, in other words, mission failed!"
A few Daedra leapt from the branches, black robes wrapped around their bodies. Broga snorted and shoved Xilivicus out of the way, "The Daedroth could have torn down the guard and taken the girl back to us."
"It was a creature! How would it have known to distinguish between the girl and its prey? I'm not going to sit back and watch your follies cost us this mission!" Xilivicus snarled as he watched Broga drag the corpse through the undergrowth to conceal it from any travelers.
Broga shoved the massive body under a gargantuan bush. He turned and sneered, "Secure the area, and find a way into the Imperial City by not being seen. Moving in the night shall be our best bet to get the girl."
The Daedra saluted and quickly ran off. Just as Xilivicus turned to leave, Broga seized his shoulder and jerked him back with a snarl, "It's not the mission you're thinking about, Churl. Need I remind you that she is nothing more than a mortal? A backstabbing, deceiving, and heartbreaking vixen? Black her out from your mind before I need to report you to Dagon for insubordination."
Xilivicus ripped his shoulder out of his commander's grasp. His eyes casting a hateful gaze into the dark abyss of night. "Let us get this over with, I do not care to be here any longer, Broga."
The commander nudged past him and quickly followed after his assistants. Xilivicus furrowed his brow and looked up to the great wide sky. The moon shined like river water and it fell down upon him filling his body with energy. The cold wind rushed past him and he closed his eyes. He hadn't hoped that his first experience of Tamerial would be in this situation; chasing down Elizabeth to turn her over to Dagon. The Churl saw Broga waving him on with angered eyes. He sighed and quickly ran out into the night to follow his commander and fellow assassins to do the darkest of deeds.
The guard pushed open the old worn door to the 'King and Queen's Tavern'. Inside there was chatter from many pub patrons and a few High Elves speaking in the back with many books surrounding them. The guard grinned and nodded, "Yes, I'm pretty sure that Lord Asquerana is here. Check with the owner to see if he has rented out a room... stay here, alright?"
Elizabeth walked over to a bench and sat down. Sweat still burdened her forehead and she could not silence her heavily pounding heart. Her eyes closed and she took slow deep breathes hoping that might calm her. She swore she saw a Daedroth attack her horse! What else could it have been? Maybe a mountain lion... that was the size of an Ogre. Maybe it was a troll, it was night afterall and the moonlight could have lightened the troll's body... and made him look like a giant Daedric reptile.
The guard walked back and grinned, "Your father is in the first room up in the living quarters. I didn't know that you were a member from Kvatch! How lucky you are to be alive, I do hope that you get a good night of rest, miss. If you ever need me I'll be patrolling the city."
Elizabeth stood with a weak smile, "Thank you, sir. I am really glad I had someone to escort me here."
The guard bowed with a chuckle, "No problem, ma'am. Blessings of Talos upon ye."
The High Elf hastily rushed across the room and made her way up the stairs. She nearly tripped upon her ripped pants as she darted up the stairs and burst through the living quarters' door. She gave the corridor a glance then quickly saw the first door. A smile lit up her face and she quickly ran into the room, "Father, I'm-"
She stopped and frowned. There was no one in the room. She sighed and walked over to the bed to sit down. Possibly, he had gone out for a short walk. Surely, he would be back before the night was fully over. Her icy blue eyes lifted and she looked at the interesting curios and trinkets that lay around the room. There was a table and a small feast prepared, a desk with a journal and a few scrolls of parchment, and there was a dresser slightly opened exposing her father's robes and fancy outfits. She pushed herself up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. Her pale fingertips pushed opened the doors even more and she could smell the fresh wood smell inside the wardrobe.
Her hands wrapped around one of her father's shirts and she pulled it close soon nuzzling it. Her eyes closed and she could see her father. The aroma of a pipe and apples, his favorite food, swirled within the fabric and the girl forgot all about her burdens. Slowly, within her mind, a house began to appear. The rooms came together like puzzle pieces and furniture appeared from nothing. It was her house.
She saw her brothers wrestling in the foyer, Bromus cooking splendid meals in the kitchen, her mother admiring herself in one of their many mirrors, and her father sitting before a fireplace reading papers and writing down things in a journal. The fireplace shone a beautiful golden color, causing the cobblestone fireplace to glow the same. Her father placed down his papers and tossed his eyes up to her. His icy eyes pierced through the dimness and a smile lightened his serious chiseled face.
The images began to run like raindrops down a window and soon her imagination had disappeared. Elizabeth opened her tired eyes and she slowly let go of the shirt with a frown. She had missed her family. Was that even possible of her? She had scorned and battled with her family the last twenty years of her life. She claimed to hate them; yet, in this moment... she missed them more then anything.
The girl turned back to the bed and furrowed her brow. She wished she was back in her home in Kvatch. She wanted to help Bromus cook mutton, she wanted to help her mother comb her long beautiful hair, and she wanted to secretly wrestle with her brothers in the basement. A profound sigh was let out and just as the girl was going to sit down a familiar hoarse voice called from the door way, "Elizabeth?"
Her long curved ears perked and she nearly broke her neck as she swirled around to see her father standing in the doorway. Jerald's eyes widened and tears came to his eyes as he saw his only begotten daughter; alive. The girl grinned brightly as she ran over to her father and embraced him with wide loving arms. She shoved her head into his shoulder and wept, "Oh, father! I didn't... I didn't think I'd see you again!"
Jerald clung tightly onto her with tears rolling down his cheeks. His lips could not hold a smile for they quivered because he was about to sob loudly like a mere child. "E-Elizabeth... I've missed you so much."
This was the first time in their lives that they had ever come together in such a manner. Usually, they greeted each other with a handshake or Elizabeth would curtsey. No, this was the first hug that they had ever shared. Elizabeth's heart swelled in her chest and she pulled away slightly. She chuckled lightly, wiping tears from her eyes and even her father's eyes. "W-Where's mother?"
"She's in Anvil with her sister... the boys are with her as well, Bromus too. I came here to find the strongest fighter to go into Oblivion to save you. I've given up practically everything to get here. Oh, it's so wonderful to see you again!" He then trailed off and looked down to her bloody and worn clothes, "... what has become of your clothes, girl?! Let me rush off right now and find you something suitable to wear!"
"No," said the maiden, "I like these clothes. A... a good friend of mine had given them to me."
Jerald furrowed his brow then quickly understood. It must have been the Hero! He smiled and nodded, "As you wish, my darling. Now that we are on the matter, I would like to ask you what you thought of the knight who saved you. Did you like him?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes with a confused smile, "He was very sweet and kind, if that is what you are asking."
The High Elf lord shook his head with a chuckle, "No, no, no... I meant did you like him."
Elizabeth frowned and glanced towards the ground hoping that the answer was somewhere sketched into the wooden floor. She liked him, but she was certain that she didn't like him in the way her father was thinking. "I... I..."
"Ah, no worries about that," Jerald grinned. "You've had a hard night getting here and I'm sure that you are tired. There is a washroom down the hall and the room right next to mine shall be yours. Is there anything that you need? Food? Drink?"
Elizabeth nodded and began walking to the door, "I would like lettuce and strawberries."
Jerald raised a confused eyebrow and questioned, "Lettuce and... strawberries?"
The maiden glanced back and nodded, "Yes, that will do." She walked down the hall to the washroom to clean herself up, leaving her father in the bedroom befuddled.
In the Elven Garden District upon a small garden area, a sewer hole became unsheltered. Broga lifted himself out of the sewer and looked around cautiously seeing no guards in the immediate area. He shuffled out onto the ground and crouched down soon waving on his fellow agents. The assassins leapt out of the sewers with ease, making hardly a sound at all. Xilivicus lifted himself out of the sewer and he looked to Broga with questioning eyes.
The commander walked to the sidewalk and glanced down both ways seeing guards walking by. He cursed lightly and turned back to his agents. The cold breeze blew upon them, causing Broga's long black hair to coil in the wind like venomous snakes. His eyes still alight with sin and devotion to Dagon. The commander glanced up to the walls of the nearby buildings and he whispered lightly, "Is there a possibility to scale the walls, Kynmarcher?"
The Kynmarcher Assassin furrowed his brow and walked over. His dark fingertips caressed the limestone walls and he nodded, "Yes, sir."
Broga nodded and turned to the other assassins, "We shall scale the walls and look down upon the city. We have five hours until sunrise. We don't have much time at all. If we are not successful on this night then we must retreat to the sewers and stay there until the next night, understood?"
The assassins all nodded and quickly walked up to the walls. From the belts of their robes they removed small gauntlets with many spikes upon the rough palms. They slammed their hands down into the wall and slowly they began lifting and pulling themselves up the walls until they were at the top. The first assassin to reach the top tossed down the gauntlets to Broga. The commander grinned as he slipped the gauntlets over his strong firm hands. He quickly scaled the wall and just as he was about to toss down the gauntlets he saw a guard walking into the small garden area where Xilivicus was. Broga's heart seized and he ducked down low, hoping the guard had not seen his figure.
Xilivicus furrowed his brow as he saw torchlight from the corner of his eyes. He glanced over and saw a guard aimlessly walking into the garden. He glared up to Broga and saw his commander hissing silently, 'Get out of there now!'
The Churl pulled up his ebon hood that nearly concealed his entire face. His jaw and chiseled lips was the only thing you could see. His horns were not vertical as much as other Daedra so his hood did not fully show the curve of his horns. Xilivicus turned and walked out upon the street hoping the guard was not suspicious of him. Broga watched with intrigued eyes as it appeared no guardsman cared of the hooded Dremora stalking the streets. They were completely oblivious to him!
Broga walked along the rooftop and called out gently to his fellow Kyn who walked down a deserted alley to fully hear Broga, "You seem to be hidden enough, Churl! Scourge through the Inns and ask about Kvatch! Surely you will learn the hiding place of that bloody vixen and her own Kyn! Report when you have learned something!"
Xilivicus' mouth fell open in shock. Broga wanted him to impersonate a human? The charade would not last long at all with his purple skin! Yet... he could be mistaken for a Dark Elf. He had seen one traveling through the city and the skin tone was not that far off. The Churl nodded and took the new orders quickly. He walked down the streets entering one tavern at a time. He walked down the main street to see Luther Broad's Boarding house. This was going to be his first stop, and after that was the King and Queen Tavern.
Elizabeth walked into her room before going to the washroom. She examined the room and laid upon the bed for a few minutes still trying to calm her pounding heart. When her eyes closed she could still see those piercing tangerine eyes. Her eyes ripped open and she looked up to the ceiling. As she thought of him, it seemed like he was just another creature who had passed from this world onto the next. Surely, in a few days she would not toil over his death at all. Her hand caressed her neck and she felt the artic gold rope freeze her fingertips. She removed the necklace and placed it upon her bedside hoping that might calm her burdened mind.
She flipped onto her side and stared at her cupboard wondering if her father had placed dresses and such in there for her. She pushed herself up and walked over to the cupboard opening it with careful hands. Her eyes searched the inside and she could see linens and many shoes as well as full outfits. The blue one was her favorite for it had enhanced the icy colors of her eyes. She went through the rest of the cupboard and realized there were no washcloths for her use. Her brow furrowed and she quickly made her way out of the room and to the main stairs. She skipped down them and with shifty eyes she looked upon the dining area of the tavern.
Even at this hour it had appeared that there were so many people. There were many drunkards and off-duty guards who walked around the room making sure no one hurt themselves and there were a few stragglers who hid themselves upon the benches and chairs in the back of the room. They merely watched with intrigued eyes as men fell from their stools drenched in sweat and ale or as a drunkard tried to joke around with the guards about stealing something from their neighbors.
Elizabeth smiled sweetly for she had missed this much familiarity from her hometown of Kvatch. She walked around the tables and made her way to the owner. She leaned over the table and tried to speak over the thunderous laughter and hollers from the patrons. "Excuse me, sir! Do you happen to have a towel or washcloth for the washing room? I didn't find any in my room and I thought-"
The owner smiled while drying a wet mug with a dark toffee colored towel, "The washcloths and such are supplied in the basement to make sure that no one steals them. Here's the key," he pulled out a rusted golden key from under the desk and handed it to her, "Bring it back to me when you're done. I'm certain that you won't run off with it, will ye?"
"Oh no, sir," she laughed gently, "I'm no thief."
Elizabeth turned and held tightly upon the key as she walked across the room to the basement door. She avoided hitting drunkards and shifting elves that seemed consumed in research and such. She shuffled as two men walked past her and she begged pardon. Just as she was about to the door she had run into a Dark Elf. She nearly fell over with a laugh, "Sorry, sir," she informed while bowing a tad, "I hadn't seen you there."
The man stood absolutely immobile. He pursed his dry lips and nodded gently, not replying verbally at all. Elizabeth walked past him and slid the key within the hole soon opening the old basement door. She slipped in and soon the door closed.
The man pushed back his black hood and tangerine eyes appeared from the darkness. His dark purple lips curved in a scowl. If he followed Broga's orders, he would slip into the basement, knock the girl unconscious and call in the troops to somehow sneak her out and back into the sewers. But if he were to follow his conscious, he would not intrude on her and expose himself. There was still the matter of his resurrection that she hadn't known about. Surely, this was the best way for her never to remember him.
His hood fell back over his face as he stooped his head low hoping the thoughts would roll through his mind so he could realize the right and wrong of the situation. Suddenly, a light flashed within his head and his eyes jerked up to the stairs. That's where she had come from. If he could find her room then perhaps he could somehow expose Dagon's plan but not expose himself. Yes, that seemed somewhat logical. What the hell, that was logical enough for him. He wasn't some perfect scholar.
Xilivicus maneuvered through the tavern and quickly made his way up the stairs; his stance burdened with strife and foreshadowed problems that were soon going to arise.
Elizabeth exited the basement with a washcloth and towel in her arms. She smiled as she returned to the owner and presented him with the key. She walked up the stairs and entered the living quarters, soon heading for the washroom. Upon entering, she saw a bathing tub filled with fresh warm water. She sighed sweetly and quickly undressed from her clothes. Her pale toes touched the water and upon contact the girl nearly melted. A profound blissful sigh escaped her lips as she merely relaxed in the water. The dirt and grim was washed from her skin with oils and shampoos.
Her long silver hair became as soft as silk as she washed it. Her skin became like porcelain and just as white as snow. She rolled in the water and giggled as she could remember the old days of when she thought the washtub was an ocean and she would swim around in circles pretending to be on a deep sea adventure. As she came from the water, the room had altered and she saw the washroom of Oblivion. Her eyes widened and her heart screamed out in shock. As the water came from her eyes the image had disappeared and she was once again back in Tamerial. She looked around nervously. Her breathe was rushed and her imaginary journey had come to an end.
She slipped from the tub and the water rolled down her pale curves and drenched the rug near the tub. She lifted the towel and wrapped it around her soon drying her. A fine brush was sitting upon a counter and she hastily used it to get the knocks out of her hair. She got dressed and knew that she would not like being alone. She would need to speak with her father about getting her a personal guard or just a steward to walk with her anywhere and everywhere. For it seemed not even in the Imperial City, was she safe.
Xilivicus cracked the second door of the living quarters and slipped in noiselessly. There appeared to be no one in the room at all. This might have been a fine indication that this was Elizabeth's room. The Dremora sauntered about in search for clues or little hints showing that it was indeed Elizabeth's room. There were no suggestive clothes or parchment with her handwriting or any such journals or pictures. As the Churl was about to leave, he saw a glitter of gold from the corner of his eye. He stopped and glanced over to see his necklace lying upon the bedside. He furrowed his brow and walked over; making certain that it was truly his and not just a stand-in. He picked it up with his long curled fingernails. The touch seemed unworldly smooth and just as cold as ice.
Indeed, this was surely his.
The Churl gripped tightly upon the necklace with closed eyes. Mara... Dibella... they had betrayed him. They convinced him that Elizabeth was... the woman for him; however, the outcome of it all showed that Elizabeth was married and she needed naught of the presence of the Dremora in her life. For she loved Tamerial and hated all things Oblivion or even Daedric.
Xilivicus placed down the necklace and banished the thought of the goddesses from his mind. As he was about to leave, a voice called out to him which made his muscles tense.
"Excuse me, what are you doing in my daughter's room?" questioned a slightly angered High Elf.
Xilivicus spun around with wide eyes. His daughter? Was this the hateful father of whom Elizabeth spoke of? The Dremora bowed his head and said, "Accept my apologies, friend. I had thought this was my own room. It... it seems the owner was not very specific of which room was mine. He said second to the stairs... I suppose he meant the other set of stairs. Forgive me for the big misunderstanding."
Jerald narrowed his eyes as he could hardly see the face of this man. He was slightly suspicious; yet, he seemed sincere and kind enough. "You are forgiven, brother Elf. But I must ask that you remove yourself from my daughter's room before she has returned. She was one of the only survivors from Oblivion. I want her to rest and feel no millstones at all."
The Churl nodded and began walking to the door, "I fully agree with you. I did not mean to cause an interruption. If I had disturbed any of her valuables then please tell her that I am very sorry and that I beg pardon. Now... if you shall excuse me, it appears that I have a room to be getting to. Goodnight, sir."
Jerald narrowed his eyes and gave a short nod. This man almost seemed out of place from the rest of the tavern. The High Elf gave the man an unconvinced fleeting look as he hissed thoughtfully, "Yes, goodnight..."
Elizabeth walked quickly back to her room, carrying only her towel which she would hang from the cupboard door to dry for her next bath. As she entered the room she saw her father sitting upon her bed reading yet another book. The maiden smiled and greeted him, hoping not to frighten him so much. Jerald glanced up and grinned, "It's been quite a while, I suppose that you enjoyed your bath?"
"Certainly," said she, "it has been such a while since I had a clean tub to wash in. May I ask why you are in my room?"
The High Elf sighed and pushed himself off the bed with a groan, "There was an intruder in your room and I was merely making sure that he had not taken anything. I hadn't seen anything out of place so I just stuck around so I could inform you before you had gone to bed. Make sure you lock your door, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
"Oh, don't worry, I'm perfectly safe here." She replied with a weak unconvinced smile.
Jerald closed his book and nodded, "Of course you are, dear. Now, we shall leave for Skingrad tomorrow afternoon to meet your mother, brothers, and Bromus. From there we shall find a new place to live until they restore Kvatch to its former glory. Get a good night's rest, Elizabeth. I'll need your full attention for tomorrow as we travel." The father kissed his daughter's forehead and soon walked out of the room.
Elizabeth watched him with a raised eyebrow. Ever since the Oblivion Crisis it appeared that he was so much more loving and frightened of anything happening to her. Possibly he was still shaky from the incident and with time he would fall back into his natural order. The maiden took notice of what her father said about the intruder and quickly she had glanced over to Xilivicus's necklace which was nestled upon the bedside table. The girl smiled sweetly and walked over to the door, closing and locking it. Just an Average lock, surely no one would attempt to get into her room.
The maiden walked over to the torches in the room and dosed them allowing only one candle to be the light in her room. As the light was dimmed the room turned a dark gold color and flickered from light to dark with the waving of the candle's flame. The girl tiredly walked over to her bed and removed her pants and shirt soon pulling back the inviting sheets and cuddling herself among the down comforter and the round stuffed pillows.
Her eyes began to droop and slowly she fell into a deep slumber with wild dreams plaguing her mind allowing the worries to slip out and vanish into the air.
Xilivicus sat attentively at a table upon the second floor. He tapped his long fingernails upon the top of the table as he waited for Jerald to return to his room to sleep. Elizabeth had gone to sleep right after she had returned to her room. Her father exited her room with cagey eyes giving the Dremora a shifty gaze. Surely he told his daughter of the Churl's attempt to hide in her room. This angered the Churl quite a bit.
He rolled his dark tongue over his jagged teeth soon clenching his jaw shut. An hour crawled by and Jerald had returned to his room after a drink or two of ale. The man would be out for quite a while, thought the Dremora. Xilivicus rose from his seat and silently walked over to Elizabeth's room. He leaned his head back and looked the door over. Simple door, nothing very complex to it.
The Dremora pushed his palms upon the door and softly whispered an incantation. Humans were not the only ones who knew of magic tricks. The door pulsed with energy and the lock soon came undone allowing the door to swing open. Xilivicus crouched down and snuck into the room like a shadow sneaking across a wall. Upon entering, he saw a very dark room with a dying candle as the only light. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of perfumes and oils. Surely, this was the maiden's room. He heard her soft uninterrupted breathes and knew for a fact that she was sleeping.
He had kept guard over her every time she lay down to take a nap or even at night to fall asleep. He had known precisely when she fell dead to the world. Xilivicus walked over to the edge of the bed and as he stepped close enough he pulled back his hood. His curved horns and long jagged ears exposed. His ginger waved locks falling into his face covering an eye. He swallowed and leaned down next to the bed as if he was to say his prayers. He could scarcely see the shadow of the girl's face. Her beauty was piercing even through the darkness.
She sighed deeply as she nuzzled her own hand that lay next to her heavy head. The Dremora lifted his hand and caressed his fingertips through her hair, pushing a few strands from her face. His face solemn and dismal as he looked upon a treasure that he knew he could never have. His heart rotted inside his black shell and quickly he became angered. His eyes closed and he knew that he must hold himself back. He opened his mouth and murmured to the Elf, "I miss you, my friend."
Her brow creased and she slept talked back tiredly, "...X-Xili...vicus?"
He feebly smiled as he caressed her warm pallid cheek. His heart began to break as he could sense the wonder in her voice that he was speaking to her. But unquestionably, she only thought it was a dream. "Yes, it is I," he whispered and rapidly cut to the chase, "Now, Elizabeth, listen carefully to what I tell you... Lord Dagon has sent Broga and a group of assassins to find you to take you back to Oblivion. They already know you are in a tavern here but they are not sure of which one. When you awake you must gather all your things and in the middle of day when the sun is on the highest you need to run as far and as fast as you can from here. Broga cannot travel in the day in fear of being sighted. Do you understand, Elizabeth?"
The girl furrowed her brow and her eyes moved behind her eyelids. The dream began to fill more like reality which allowed her mind to perceive these words. "Yes... I... I under...stand."
Xilivicus nodded and whispered even softer, "I cannot stay with you, my friend... I fear that Broga might know of me being here with you. If you flee while it is still dark Broga will surely follow. I wish I could stay with you longer, but I must leave." He hadn't wanted to speak these last words, he never wanted to say them to her but he knew that it was time to finally let her go, "Goodbye, Elizabeth."
He furrowed his brow despairingly and began to stand up. The Elf's hand covered the dark purple Daedric hand and as gentle as the spring breeze, Elizabeth muttered, "I love you."
He stopped.
His eyes widened in the darkness and his heart immediately began pounding. She was dreaming. Of course, she could have said that to anyone. No, she wasn't speaking to him. That was improbable, impossible, that was— "I love you, too." The words fell from his lips eagerly.
He continued to kneel and softly he repeated, unsure that he had said it the first time, "... I love... you too."
Elizabeth's hand lifted off of Xilivicus' hand and he was about to pull away when suddenly her hand had moved forward and wrapped around his firm neck. His eyes widened as she drew him closer to him. With each inch, his cheeks inflamed even more until they were practically a glowing lilac. Elizabeth leaned up and softly their lips came together. Xilivicus gasped and tensed for a moment hearing a thousand voices in his head roaring at him; however, he didn't give a damn.
His pupils grew large and gently his eyes fluttered closed as he cupped the girl's cheek and returned the kiss. His heart was kindled and his whole body was overwhelmed with warmth he never thought he could have. His fingertips caressed the smoothness of her skin and slowly slid through her silky locks of silver. Elizabeth sighed blissfully and she retreated her head laid it upon the pillow, her hand slowly sliding from his skin and joining her upon the bed.
Xilivicus opened his affectionate eyes and he could see and feel so much more then he ever had before. His lips were supple and moist instead of cracked and dry. His body was warm and comforting instead of hollow and as cold as ice. He wanted to crawl into the bed and lie with her. But slowly, reality had struck him. His brow creased and he slowly stood up, looking Elizabeth over.
This was not his lady.
This was not his world.
That wasn't even his kiss.
The Churl's lip quivered and he whispered again, "... goodbye."
His hood was drawn up and he noiselessly walked to the door. His head bowed in despair as his hand coiled around the knob and opened the door. This was the last and final time he would ever see Elizabeth, for he was going to return to a plane of Oblivion and never come back to Tamerial. The door had opened and Xilivicus stepped out and—
"Let me guess..." snarled the High Elf Jerald who stood in front of Elizabeth's door with two armored guardsman. The High Elf glared upon the Dremora with heated eyes as he questioned, "Wrong room?"