* * * * *

Good thing I'm retired, Jaenya Swiftsure thought as she left the Tiber Septim Hotel.
The atmosphere at her favourite drinking spot was not as congenial tonight as usual. More like the clouds that had passed over, earlier in the day, casting shadows over the Imperial City. Shadows in which dark thoughts threatened to fester, unless someone cast a light. That was what her old friend, Farrah Sylvaryn, had said of the vile holes they'd descended into, burning out foul cultists and the restless dead with torches and blades raised high. Before one too many such expeditions claimed the virtuous elfmaid's life, that is.
Jaenya murmured a prayer as she passed a contingent of the Imperial Watch. There seemed to be more of them about today.
The Emperor hadn't been seen all day. That was the rumour making the rounds back at the Tiber Septim Hotel. No one could say where the rumour started, or why it kept going. No one had seen the Emperor today. With each round of drinks, the rumour became more ominous. It grew like a dark cloud, or a spell gone wrong, fouling the air around all who heard or uttered it. The Emperor, they kept saying; the Emperor. And, before she'd left, something about the Temple.
For a moment, for no reason she could recognise or define, Jaenya felt vulnerable. Her breath caught. Where was her armour, why was she out in the street in fine velvets? She needed something between herself and the encroaching darkness, a shield against the horrors that crawled and prowled unceasingly in the unseen places of the world. Then she remembered. She'd put that life behind her, stored everything away in the cellar, and sworn to settle down to a better life. A simple, honest life, as an ordinary citizen of the greatest empire of the world. Albeit a moderately wealthy imperial citizen, in a nice house bought and furnished from the bounties she'd brought in on bandits and worse. A life of comfort, supported by a few trade partnerships she'd built up during her more adventurous days, as well as the occasional alchemical dabbling. Her house was a cozy haven of warmth and hospitality. Taking a breath, she hurried home.
"The fires," someone called out, as Jaenya passed Usheeja's house; "the fires are out!"
Then she saw a figure huddled in the shadows before her doorway. Always meant to put a lantern there, she chided herself. Her footsteps slowed as she approached. Though night was falling, and the other looked like they had spent most of the day crawling through a sewer, Jaenya recognised an acquaintance she'd recently made. They looked troubled. A chill gripped her heart, and the breton woman steadied herself.
"The Emperor's dead," her visitor said. "I was there. I saw it all."
Jaenya sighed. "Come on, let's get you inside." Adventure wasn't done with her, it seemed. "What are you wearing? There's some clothes upstairs." On the oath she'd sworn over her old friend's grave, her home was always open to those in need.
They went inside, as despair spread like a flame throughout the Imperial City.
Troubled times were ahead.

[Please see the enclosed Read Me for important information concerning this mod.]

 * * * * *