Giorno awoke in his room with Fugo sitting at the end of the bed. His armor was on him.
“When did you get in my room?” the blond Breton asked, lying in bed.
“I picked the lock,” he answered. “I have a few questions for you.”
Giorno sat up. “Okay, let’s hear them.”
“Are you a vampire?”
“No, I would’ve been burning in the sun if I were.”
“But Will said this vampire might be different.”
“Fugo, I never met my father before in my life until now.”
“Do you want to cure him?”
“I would like to, but we don’t have time for that stuff. Can you leave so I can change?”
Fugo sighed, got up, and left. Giorno took off his sleepwear and wore his pink robes. Once he got dressed, he went downstairs into the dining hall and sat down with his friends. Trish wore a green velvet dress. She was eating a slice of bread with strawberry jam.
“Giorno!” Trish said, looking at him. “Do you have any more of that tea?”
The blond sat down with them. “No, I ran out. I’m sorry. Can I have a slice of bread?”
“Sure,” Fugo answered.
He took a slice of bread and spread the jelly on it. Once they finished their small breakfast, they were outside the inn, heading towards the exit gate.
“Want to buy a horse?” Giorno asked.
“No,” Fugo answered.
“Why?” Trish asked. “We could be going much faster.”
“The horses in Cheydinhal are faster,” Fugo answered. “That, and we’d have to take care of it. I don’t want to take care of a horse. I’d rather stay in the city.”
“But you said you wanted to head there last,” Giorno said. “Also, the horses there are expensive. I could only buy one horse.”
“Hold on,” Trish said. “Fugo, you used to go to Cheydinhal a lot. Did something happen?”
“I just hate a group of people there,” he replied. “And I don’t want to face them.”
Prosciutto probably had a contract for him.
“If you want, we could help you,” Giorno said.
“You really shouldn’t. Let’s just go without horses.”
They traveled along the Gold Road. It was sunny until a few minutes later. After passing the vineyards, it got cloudy. Upon nearing Kvatch, Fugo stood on the road, looking at the faded road to the city.
“Do you think they’ll rebuild the city?” Fugo asked.
He heard about the arena in Kvatch, but he got the chance to visit.
“I don’t think so,” Giorno said.
They continued on the road and arrived at Anvil, heading to the inn to rest.
-
Giorno was the first to wake up. He took off his sleepwear and put on his pink robes. The rooms were big enough to have a small dining table. An apple, some bread, and a bottle of wine lay on the table. He finished his breakfast and went downstairs, sitting somewhere in a corner waiting for Trish, who wore a yellow velvet dress that looked like her green one, and Fugo. They arrived a few minutes later.
“Well, I’ll be at the guildhall,” Trish said.
“If you need us, we’ll be sitting outside,” Fugo said.
They all headed out of the inn. Fugo and Giorno sat on a bench underneath the tree in the middle of the town. The Imperial was bored while the Breton observed his surroundings. It was a cloudy day, kind of gloomy. There were a couple of people walking about, but nothing interesting. They sat for a few minutes.
Fugo crossed his arms and sighed. “What do you think Trish is doing right now?”
“I don’t know,” Giorno answered, looking up at the tree branch and gray sky. “She’s probably healing somebody. Man, where is everybody?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen smaller towns with more people walking around.”
It was still quiet.
“Hey, Giorno,” Fugo said. “I’m sorry for those times I’ve been rude to you.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
“But it’s not. I accused you of being a vampire yesterday morning. And the first time I met you, I wasn’t in the best of moods. You see, I had to deal with this problem, and I slept in the cold—”
“Please, it’s alright,” Giorno interrupted. “Let’s head to the docks. Maybe there might be something interesting there for us.”
At the docks, there were more people, but they were not approachable. They wore ragged clothing, rocked in one place, and smelled either like body odor or skooma. Someone vomited, and there was an old bloodstain on the wooden planks. One of the guards was shooing one of them away, facepalming at the scene. Giorno decided to approach him.
“What’s going on here?” Giorno asked.
“Just a bunch of skooma junkies,” the guard said. “None of your business. Just move along.”
“Perhaps we could help.”
“Excuse me. We?” Fugo said.
“We don’t have much to do,” he explained. “Might as well kill some time and help people.”
“Well,” the guard said, “I don’t know where to start. Otherwise, we won’t be having this problem. I supposed you could ask the addicts around here.”
Giorno tried to approach some of the addicts around the docks. Some of them said rude things or couldn’t speak at all. Others tried to start a fight, but Fugo was around to intimidate them. After a couple of minutes, an elderly-aged man decided to speak to Giorno.
“I could help… in exchange for coins,” he said.
The Breton brought out a small bag of coins, jiggled it, and handed it over to him. “Should this be enough?”
The man nodded. “Yes, this should be enough. This drug problem happened recently. I would say a week after Anvil’s siren problem.”
“Siren problem?” Fugo questioned.
“Long story. Where was I? Ah, yes, the drugs! Most of these people are getting it from Hirtel in the Flowing Bowl. Where he gets it, I don’t know.”
The man walked away.
“Hirtel?” Giorno said. He looked at Fugo. “How are we going to approach this man?”
The Imperial walked away from the crowd, thinking. Giorno followed him. “What if I ask him who’s supplying him so I can deal with him? I could say that fighting in the arena has been stressful lately.”
“But what about your reputation?” he asked. “What if somebody hears or Hirtel tells somebody?”
“I don’t care about the arena anymore. I was thinking about quitting anyway.”
“What will you be doing once this is over?”
“Maybe I might help Trish’s mother with her shop. I don’t know. What about you? Don’t tell me you’re going to study. Tell me something interesting.”
There was something Giorno needed to do, and it was in this city. However, he shouldn’t involve them. “I haven’t thought about that. Maybe I’ll try to stop skooma dealers.”
Fugo laughed. “So, you want to be a guard?”
“What? No! I need subtlety, something a guard lacks.”
“Subtlety? Are you a sneaky type of person, Giorno?”
“Aren’t you? You’re the one who broke into my room.”
“Let’s just focus on the skooma problem.”
They entered the Flowing Bowl. Inside, it smelled like alcohol and fish. Nords drunkenly wandered around, bumping into each other. A Wood Elf had trouble cleaning the floors as one stain would appear each time he wiped another with his mop. The two searched for Hirtel. He wasn’t hard to find. He was sitting at a table near the corner, looking unhappy. There was an empty chair.
“Stay here,” Fugo whispered to Giorno.
He approached Hirtel, who suddenly sat straight.
The High Elf tried to make eye contact but struggled. “H-how can I help you?”
“I heard you know somebody who can supply me with the good stuff. Do you know where I can find your supplier?”
“I-I am sorry. W-what?”
“You know, the good stuff?”
“O-oh, you mean the skooma? Yes, yes, I have that.”
“Yes, but no. I want your supplier.”
“M-my supplier? Why?”
“Do you not know who I am?”
Hirtel thought for a second. “You’re the Grand Champion!” he nearly shouted.
Fugo hushed him down. “Yes, now can I please know who your skooma dealer is?”
“If you’re the Grand Champion, you must carry a lot of Septims,” the elf said. “Can I have 1,000 Septims?”
Fugo’s hands gripped the edge of the table. “Are you going to tell me who your supplier is first?”
“Absolutely not! My supplier doesn’t want to be named. She values her privacy.”
“A she? So she’s a woman. Now, where can I find her?”
“I’m this close to getting a house. I lost everything in Kvatch,” Hirtel explained. “Please, I just need 1,000 Septims.”
“500.”
“900.”
Fugo sighed. “600.”
“800.”
“How about 750?”
“Deal. I could get more from these fools. Though, I do have to be honest with you. I don’t know her name, but she’s a Khajiit. I usually met her near Fort Strand. That’s it. That’s all. Careful, there are some bodyguards there.”
“Thanks.” Fugo got up and tossed him a bag of coins.
He left the tavern with Giorno, where they then spoke outside.
“So, where are we heading to?” the blond asked.
“Fort Strand.”
As they made for the exit, it began raining. Giorno began running. “Come on! Before we get wet!” he yelled.
Fugo tried to keep up with him, but he was getting tired. Despite it being cloudy and rainy, the light began bothering him. He got on his knees before falling over. “Wait!” he shouted.
Giorno turned around and rushed to his aid. “Fugo!” He turned his body over, facing the sky. Wet hair clung to his face, covering his forehead and eyes. Giorno brushed the strands of hair to the side, getting a clear view of his face, and the two made eye contact. Fugo’s cheeks reddened.
“Is everything alright?” Giorno asked. He kneeled in front of him, putting a hand on his cheek and healing him. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong.”
Fugo looked into his turquoise eyes for a while. “You’re beautiful.”
The Breton blushed. “I think you’re fatigued.”
“Huh? What?” Fugo’s cheeks reddened. “I didn’t say anything! I feel tired. Thanks for noticing.”
“Yes, and when did this begin?”
“I don’t remember. Just fix me.”
“I healed you. Are you still tired?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Giorno then began casting other spells. “It can’t be paralysis or poison. Don’t tell me you have a disease.”
“No way!”
“You know, I think I know what disease you have. You got bit, didn’t you?”
“That makes sense. I’m not sure when that happened, but yeah. I guess a vampire bit me some time ago. Now cure me!”
“Alright, calm down. There, now, how do you feel?”
He sat on the ground. “Better. Now help me up.”
Giorno got off Fugo and gave him a hand, pulling with great force. Their faces were close, almost as if they were about to kiss. The Breton tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “Sorry about that. Let’s continue forth.”
They got off each other and walked along the dirt path that led them to the nearly buried old fort. Three cheaply armored Nords guarded the entrance. One of them gave them a warning.
“I’m here to talk to your supplier,” shouted Fugo.
“What are you talking about?” questioned the one who warned them
“The skooma!”
“The skooma? He knows about it. Kill him!”
The Imperial facepalmed. “Idiots!”
“I knew this wasn’t going to be easy,” Giorno commented as he brought out his staff.
The three Nords charged at them with their weapons drawn. Giorno cast a blast, knocking them back and setting them on fire. Their iron-plated armor kept them cooked alive. They screamed in agony before dying.
Fugo covered his nose. “Did you have to do that?”
“Sorry, I’ve been used to fighting vampires lately. Should I shock the next ones that fight us instead?”
“I remember we had a conversation about what we mastered in. You said you’ve mastered mysticism, right?”
“Indeed I did. What about it?”
“If I cast a spell at you, it’ll deflect?”
“Yes. Why did you want to know this?”
“I just thought that was cool. That’s all. Now, shall we go inside?”
“Wait,” Giorno said. “We need to discuss how to stop this drug dealer. Are we sneaking in? I prefer this method.”
“I’ll need to take off my armor, but yeah. I can do that.”
Fugo took off his steel-plated armor, revealing his dark red gambeson.
“I thought you had a green one,” Giorno commented.
“I do,” he replied. “I just wanted to wear the red one today, which is perfect because I might get blood on my clothing. Just in case we separate, are you good with a bow?”
“We won’t get separated. Also, I’m a spell caster. I won’t need it. My aim is pretty good.”
“Can you sneak?”
“Yes, I can. But you’re the Grand Champion. Are you sure you can sneak around?”
“I can. Now follow me.”
The two entered the fort, starting in a hallway. It was dark, and the scent of skooma was faint. Giorno and Fugo continued forward, running into an unlocked gate and the path split in two.
“Which way?” Fugo asked him.
He cast his clairvoyance spell, tracking the Khajiit. “To the left.”
Following his direction, they ran into a marauder who hadn’t spotted them. There wasn’t a way to sneak past the Orc in heavy armor. Luckily, she didn’t wear a helmet. Fugo brought his steel bow, drew it, and let loose his arrow, piercing her skull. Her body lay on the cold stone floor. He then hid her body behind a barrel and a broken crate.
There was another unlocked gate. It led downstairs to another room, which seemed to be a training room, judging from the large mat in the middle. There was a hole in the wall, a set of stairs leading up, and a door near said stairs. The clairvoyance spell directed them to the door. They continued forwards, but Fugo activated a trap, causing a log to swing toward them. Fugo pushed Giorno back, causing him to land on the floor. The chunk of wood caused Fugo to topple over Giorno. Once again, it looked like they were about to kiss.
“Are you okay?” the blond asked.
“Ah, my back! Yeah. Mind healing me up first?”
They were still on the dusty floor. Giorno touched his back and healed him.
“Better?”
“Yeah, much better. Thanks.”
“Who’s there?” yelled one of the marauders.
Fugo quickly got off of Giorno and readied his bow. A Nord woman with an ax climbed down the stairs to the mat area.
“Just jump down!” whispered Giorno. He jumped down near the stairs. Fugo followed. “Don’t kill her. Just sneak past her and go to the door.”
While the trap distracted the woman, they entered the door, ending in a dark corridor that led to a bigger room. Unlike the rest of the fort, it was brighter here, and the skooma aroma was more potent. Along the walls were alchemy tools. There were at least a couple of them, but three people—an Imperial man, a Dark Elf woman, and a Khajiit woman—were working on making skooma. There were two marauders: an Imperial woman and a Nord man. Both of them were wearing Orcish armor.
“So, Giorno, that’s the Khajiit woman we’re looking for, right?” Fugo whispered.
“Let me see.” Giorno cast the clairvoyance spell. The blue mist led to her, but it also led somewhere else. “It might be her. There’s another Khajiit elsewhere.”
“Great. Now what?”
“I’m going to cast a spell to paralyze her. You can take care of the armored guards. If the other two fight back, I’m afraid I might have to kill them. Hopefully, it won’t come down to that. Are you ready?”
“Wait.” Fugo examined the Imperial woman. She stood at the back of the room, watching over the drug makers. A bow was attached to her back. Then he looked at the Nord and noticed he carried two axes. “I’m going to aim for the woman first with a specific poison for her. Next, I’ll charge at the Nord. Does that sound good to you?”
“Yes.”
Fugo searched his bags for the poison. It paralyzes its victims while getting them sicker and fatigued. He coated his arrow in it, aimed, and fired at the woman, piercing her right in the chest. The drug makers and the marauder turned around to face her. Before anyone could do anything, Giorno cast a spell, paralyzing the Khajiit woman. She fell face down on the ground. The Dark Elf woman screamed, and the Imperial man ran off somewhere. The Nord looked in the direction the spell was cast and began charging toward Giorno, but Fugo initiated combat with him first.
The Nord dual-wielded axes, hacking and slashing at Fugo, but he blocked his attacks with his sword. His ax scraped at his armor. The golden blond kicked the Nord to the floor and lied. Fugo walked to him, ready to plunge his glass sword into his neck, but the other quickly got on his feet and attacked again.
While that was happening, Giorno managed to interrogate the Khajiit. He summoned a dremora caitiff. The dremora held a shield and wore heavy daedric armor.
“I need you to hold her down,” Giorno demanded.
“Must I? What if she scratches me?” questioned the dremora.
“Just do it!”
The dremora got on top of her and held her arms in place. Giorno knelt and then dispelled the paralyze spell. The Khajiit breathed in heavily and rapidly, squirming around.
“What is going on?” she asked.
“Are you the one selling skooma? After all, you are making it. Who’s the other Khajiit?” he interrogated.
“This one just needed money! It’s Tsraadhi you want!”
“If I find out you’re lying, you’ll pay. You can let go now.”
The dremora let go of her, but she cried on the floor. Giorno cast the clairvoyance spell again. The blue mist backtracked. He then looked at Fugo, who was still fighting. The golden blond finished the Nord, slicing his throat with his sword. Fugo stared back at Giorno. “What going on? What happened to that other guy?”
“Other guy?” He then analyzed the room. The Dark Elf, Khajiit, and the two dead bodies were in the room. “Where did the other guy go?”
“H-he probably ran to Tsraadhi. She’s probably fleeing right now,” the Dark Elf woman explained. “I was here against my will. I didn’t want to do this. Gods, why me?” She began sobbing uncontrollably.
“We have no time! We must hurry before she gets away!” shouted Giorno.
The two ran out of the room, returning to the training room. The Nord woman, who was guarding the room, spotted them, but since Giorno was in a rush, he just cast a fire spell and let her roast.
They were then outside. It was no longer raining but the sunset. Fugo and Giorno watched as Tsraadhi sprinted away. She was swift, and it didn’t seem like they would catch up to her. Giorno tried cast ice spikes at her, but his magicka was low, and the shots kept missing. Tired, he knelt on the ground.
“Are you alright?” Fugo asked.
“I’m fine. It’s just—”
The two could only watch as Tsraadhi ran further and further.
When it seemed like she was getting away, someone on a horse shot a frost spell at her. Tsraadhi fell to the ground.
“What happened?” Giorno asked.
“Someone stopped the Khajiit,” Fugo explained. “Hold on. I’ll carry you.”
He picked up the Breton and ran towards the scene. As he was running, two guards on their horses were behind the rider. When they got closer, they noticed the rider was Trish.
“Trish!” Fugo called out with a smile. “When did you buy a horse? How did you know we were here?”
“It’s a long story,” she explained. “I’ll have to explain later, and I didn’t buy this horse.”
“Stop right there, criminal scum!” shouted the guards at Trish.
Fugo’s happy expression then soured. “Are you stupid? She just stopped a drug dealer!”
“No excuse!” shouted the guard. “The fine for stealing a horse is 250 Septims. Pay the court a fine or be locked up.”
“It’s fine. I’ll pay the fine,” Trish said. “What happened to Giorno? Is he okay?”
“He’s tired. That’s all.”
-
Trish sat in the dining hall with Giorno, Fugo, and the count of Anvil, Corvus Umbranox. Giorno, Fugo, and Trish sat on the left side of the table while the count sat in the middle. They ate dinner, which consisted of a lot of meat and vegetables with wine as their drink.
“Thank you so much, Count Umbranox,” Trish said. “I could’ve paid the fine, but you stepped up and helped me.”
“Any friend of Giorno is a friend of mine,” he replied with a smile.
“How do you know this guy?” whispered Fugo.
“I don’t know him, but a friend of mine does,” he responded with a whisper.
“Oh, that’s interesting.”
“Not really.”
“So,” Fugo said, “Trish, how did you know where we were?”
“I didn’t think I’d bump into you,” she answered. “After I healed the sick, Carahil ordered me to search for the skooma peddlers. It turns out that the vampires here were praying on the skooma addicts.”
“Ugh, and here I thought I’d never have to hear about vampires again,” he complained.
“Hey, at least we didn’t have to kill them this time. Where was I? Oh, I had to ask the skooma addicts where they get their skooma. I went to a guy to interrogate him. That took a while. Then finally, he told me where to go and gave me a name and a location.”
“Wait, he gave you a name?” Fugo questioned.
“Yes, he did. I did say it took a while to interrogate him. After that, I tried looking for you. There’s no way I can take care of a bunch of skooma dealers. Then I thought maybe the guards should’ve dealt with something like this, so I stole a horse and rode to the fort.”
“Yes, they should’ve!” Corvus said. “Where’s Hieronymus Lex?”
“Hey, Count Umbranox,” Giorno said. “I have a question. Do you know—”
“If you’re going to talk about what I think you’re going to talk about, we can’t discuss that here.”
“I understand. Sorry. Anyways, we should all head back to the inn. Thanks for everything.”
Both Fugo and Trish were curious about what happened. As they walked back to the inn, they decided to ask him a few questions.
“What were you and the count discussing?” Trish asked.
“It’s kind of a secret,” Giorno answered. “And I’m exhausted.”
“What about that friend you mentioned? Are they involved?” Fugo asked.
“Yes, and I was trying to help him out. It’s a long story for another time.”
They were at the inn and went to their rooms to rest. However, Fugo couldn’t stop thinking about Giorno that night and struggled to sleep. He cuddled with Trish.
“Do they make beds for three people?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I was just wondering.”
“Hmm, I wonder that too.”
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