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Over "casting"

or

Making the Cat a Big Deal.

Katia Managan belongs to Kazerad.

Everything else belongs to Bethesda Softworks

1: Adapted Theory.

A bright yellow Khajiiti woman, clutching a dog-eared book to her chest, entered a room resembling a combination of a common room and a study, heavy shadows dotted the room from a few opened windows. Paper and books lay mostly organised here and there, numerous quills and inkwells, as well as a sizeable urn with black splotches around its mouth, spoke much of the owner and the current occupant. She smiled broadly, flicking a hand towards an overhanging blackened iron chandelier above her, the candles on it burst into calming yellow light in rapid order, glistening off of the womans wide, equally shaded eyes, slit pupils adjusting to the illumination, and she finished her flourish by practically dancing around the room, shutting the windows and setting the right mood.

"Alright...let's see what this book has to offer! It's gotta be good, I spent every last septim I had on it" Katia chimed to herself, paging through the stained and badly worn book. 'Lost magicks' was still visible on its title, although its author was long since lost to the literal pages of history.

A frown gradually wore its way into the khajiits brow; the first few pages, as she'd taken a glance at in the pawn shop, were clear as day, some forewords about the arcane arts and other odds and ends concerning how to set up a magicka study, enchanting tables and all sorts of somewhat useful pointers, but as musty page after page flipped past her clawed fingers, one thing became clear...

"The pages are all worn away! C'mon, there's gotta be something.." her page flipping intensified, before with one final growl, Katia slammed the book on a sidetable, and she didn't even care to look when the lack of careful placement sent the book tipping off, splashing against the ground like a paper puddle, pages fluttering from the bindings and forming a wide, messy pile. The Khajiit raved unintelligibly for a moment, cursing her own stupidity, before not for the first or last time, cursing it again.

"Damnit, maybe I could return it..." She went over by the sidetable and looked at the mess she'd made. She smacked her brow, lacking the comedic clapping noise as her padded hand met furred forehead, and despite the ever increasing stress headache, she sighed, bent down, and collected the ramshackle pile, before depositing it on the nearest table.

Taking a deep breath and dragging a stool to the pile, she sat down and set herself for a days poor attempt at repairing the book. It wasn't going to work, Katia's deep seated doubts stabbed at her, but foolish pride and determination are frequent bedfellows.

An hour of sorting pages; naturally starting with the visible pages she read earlier, and sorting the numerous blank pages into another.

She finally sighed, stood up, took a drink of water, and started searching around for some plant starch glue. Katia reached into the drawers in sequence, each filled haphazardly with various writing bits and pieces belonging to her 'room mate', Quill-Weave, finally finding a sticky bottle, with its cork stoppered brush poking through. Katia finally smiled, her labour settling into a working rhythm.

She shoved the drawer closed with a feminine hip bump, tail flicking about as positivity flowed through her, and stepped back to the table, only for her furred foot to clip a sheet of paper. Katia turned her yellow eyes down, watching the errant page flitter about, her eyes widened. It was the same tarnished paper from her ruined book, but this one had WORDS. Yet every page she had read before was accounted for.

"Must have fallen off.." she muttered, bending down to look it over. Not just words, it would seem; it had small runic designs, shapes, faded colours.

"It's a spell!" She squealed, albeit in a hushed tone, trying with mediocre success at stopping her tail from wagging at rapid speed so she could sitting down with the book and read the page intently.

Katia was becoming increasingly savvy at reading magicka script, spending as much time as she could reading at the Anvil mages guild, but she wasn't exactly a dab hand at spell theory; more an idiot savant with a low skill ceiling; The Anvil guild had compared her spellcraft as akin to adding extra spaces between paragraphs as well as doubling the same sentence twice over with different words to make a five page essay into a ten page one. However, each success and trial overcome yielded a slightly deeper reserve for improvement, and she didn't even care what the spell was, she wanted to learn it.

It was an alteration spell, although it had some substantial trappings in conjuration, illusion AND restoration!

"This must be really advanced...but it makes sense" Katia picked up a few of the faded pages, already worn beyond reading, and took a quill and ink sitting on the table, and began breaking down the spell.

Crude notes and scrawlings, best described as crude pictorials at best for the motions, began to mount on the pages, she grabbed more from the stack of faded papers. Somewhat brilliantly, as she utilised her savant-ish nature, small as it was; she searched internally and externally with her mind, seeking the magicka threads she was able to find, pulling, kneading and prodding about as a cat would its bedding, trying to shape it to make it more comfortable to use. Strands resisted, but again, Katia's determination in this endeavour wouldn't be shaken. Energies began to bend to her will, taking the vague shape of the needed flow of magicka, and at this juncture, Katia put down the quill.

The sun was rising. Katia blinked and made a double take at the scene before her. The quill sat in a shallow scraping of ink, despite the full bottle she'd had before, droplets strewn between the bottle and the pages, and only maybe two or three blank-ish pages remained. Her eyes bore the subtle ache of her having unknowingly used night eye, as well as the general tiredness she was now fully aware of...it didn't matter though! She excitedly pawed through her notes.

"Let's see; alteration for magicka convertion....conjuration for physical augmentation? That's strange umm....mild healing....hm, could have sworn there was an illusion aspect" Katia read through twice more, before yawning, surrendering to impatience having spent the last ten hours writing and drawing the complicated spell into a long-handed but simpler script.

"Eh, oh well, let's see if we can get this down" Katia stood up, wincing at her numb butt and aching legs had blood flow back into them, stood away from the table but still near enough to read the pages, and ran through a few gestures to practice.

If nothing else, it was good for warming up and stretching. Katia yawned again.

"Okay, one try and then I think I'll get some sleep" Katia sighed, closing her eyes, and went through the motions, this time reaching within to pull the strands she had found before.

Magicka flowed about, dragged and pulled to shape and then wrapped around the reserves within her. The supply she had wasn't great, she hadn't had a reason to use magicka for a while, just a little for emergencies, but with one mental effort, the four-string nodes of magicka peeled the energies in her, and shoved it into the world, as physical matter.

Katia gasped as her attention was snapped to, a bleary orange eyed, rust-coloured, green underbellied argonian stepped through into the room, a yawn filled with many sharp, small teeth. She was crudely covered in a robe, not exactly presentable, but she didn't care.

"Mmph....Katia? What're you doin'?" she slurred slightly, heading over to the drinking water, gargling a cup, swallowing, then setting into drinking a few straight.

"Oh, uh...sorry, got caught up in a really interesting spell! I was just casting it...hm, doesn't seem to have done anything though" Katia looked around and down at herself. Something seemed...odd, but either through fatigue or incompetence, she couldn't put a finger on it.

"Well, if you've been up all night, you can use my bed if you want....you look pretty tired and it's gonna be better than the hammock" Quill-Weave said as she dug through the cabinets and pulled some dried foodstuffs from within, sitting down on the other side of Katia's book and chewing slowly, yawning again. Katia yawned in response and rubbed an eye

"Yeah, not a bad idea." Katia gathered her notes and did a quick job of tidying up after herself.

The khajiit plodded through Quill's home, her steps becoming gradually slower and heavier as the fatigue overcame her previous excitement, each step up Quill-Weave's house seeming higher and further. She stopped by a small dresser in Quill's bedroom, it was filled with a bunch of awful magicka replenishing potions from the local mages guild, most of them bound with mild weakness afflictions, burdening effects and worse. Even so, not like Katia was going anywhere, and she didn't ever go without having some magicka in case someone broke in and she needed to defend herself.

Katia disrobed, the last vestiges of her painted undergarments were almost finally wearing off, and she had her own underwear! Or bindings, at least. She was still thrilled at the concept, musing to herself as she roughly rolled the robes, placing it in the dresser, and pulled three potions out, uncorking each and drinking them in turn. Without another word, she crawled into Quill-Weave's bed, pulled the covers over herself, and closed her eyes.

Within the blankets, as sleep overtook her, a subtle rumble from her stomach sounded, she moved around in her early phases of drifting into a slumber, before settling, padded feet sticking out from the end of the cover.

Katia's dreams were rather plain for once, being as sober as she was. Maybe it was the additional fatigue, or the fact she was somewhere safe with someone essentially keeping an eye on things. All she knew was her usual royal phantoms were oddly missing. She stood in front of a vast throne, massive, close enough to it she couldn't see the backrest of it over the front lip. It was both strange, and welcoming, in equal parts, but beyond trying to work out any logic, all she desired at that moment, was to sit upon it.

2: The State of Things to Come.

The waning sun poured over the blanketed Khajiit, stirring her from her sleep. Her left ear was inside out, her cheek-fur on the same side was flattened while her right side was puffed up, and her tongue hung out, bone dry. Katia tugged at her chest bindings, and stood up, scratching her furry belly with one hand, licking and coughing, trying to re-salivate her mouth. Pulling her bundled robes from the dresser, she went to take care of her morning (or rather early evening) awakening 'business'. It was dark inside the privy, she gestured to a nearby lantern; a meek spark flared, and died, failing to catch.

"Huh? Where's my magicka?" She grumbled, trying again, before taking a peek outside to listen for Quill-Weave, and after determining she wasn't in, kept the privy door open as she performed her essential private acts. Everything was a little more awkward, she struggled to get comfortable as she usually could, or at least it was more of a nuisance than normal, but then again she was still getting used to Quill-Weave's home, so she couldn't complain; it was better than an alleyway or bush.

Returning to her 'office' from the previous day, with an armful of magicka potions in tow from yet another visit to her stash, she rechecked her work as she sipped down the potions, wincing as the various negative effects came and went. She felt her reserves fill....only to slowly fade.

"Okay, what in Oblivion's going on!?" Katia suddenly growled, going from mild annoyance into a full rage instantly, slamming her fists into the table, earning her a loud thump that echoed in the room. Her frustrations were worsened as her clothing was getting stuck in weird places, especially tight around her ass and chest. She untied the drawstrings and retied them, adjusting herself on the stool.

"Potions must be even worse than normal....hmph, fine" she taking a deep breath, and stood up, only to find her head swim and the room seemed...off. She shook her head, and sighed.

"Guess I'll get some of the mages to cast a few spells at me, get the ol' atronach action going on" Her stomach rumbled again, and Katia glanced to the pantry door in the corner. She grabbed a handful of dried fish pieces from the food storage sideroom, and headed out to the Anvil mages guild.

It wasn't her first time doing this, Katia bothered the guildsmen within and they each kept passing the buck onto the others. Eventually Thaurron cast a repeated set of soul trap spells on her after assuring her he wasn't carrying a black soul gem and needed the conjuration practice. Each casting filled Katia's reserves a good portion, and after a minute, she was buzzing with energy. She thanked him, and headed back outside.

No sooner Katia past the large tree at the front gate, she spied Quill-Weave approaching. The argonian immediately gave Katia a funny look.

"You okay, Katia?" she gave the Khajiit a once over, before looking her straight in the eyes.

"Sure, full of magicka and raring to get back to researching that spell! I'm gonna be famous" Katia beamed. Apparently the fish weren't settling well with her, her stomach rumbled again and she adjusted her footing, she was standing oddly.

"Uh, Katia? Your eyes, they're....darker?" Quill-Weave's own eyes went wide and she became aware that the usually like-heighted Khajiit was looking down at her.

"Tsk, I thought I was past the bloody night eye thing" Katia said, rubbing her eyes, struggling against the shoulders of her robe. A breeze then distracted her, whipping the hem of her robe against her knees. A ripping sound could be heard and her tailgap dragged against her fur.

"By the Nine, Katia..." Quill-Weave backed away, Katia was finally beginning to notice something was amiss since the argonian was maybe as high as her bust, and getting lower.

The Khajiit looked down at herself just in time for her hips to wedge into the once-loose robes, yellow fur bursting free, her feet taking up more and more cobblestones. The bindings on her chest ruptured, and her tits bounced slightly, then became constrained by the robes, before the upper drawstring tore and a forced cleavage became very apparent, and with one final surge, with Quill now only up to her crotch, the robe, as well as her shredded under-bindings exploded from the Khajiit's body, the tatters falling to the floor. The last flakings of her painted fur also seemed to flake away, as even the many hairs making her pelt grew larger

"The fuck's going on!? Although...hmm, that feels pretty good, all free and open!" Katia said, chuckling as an increasing number of locals looked at the growing khajiit. Searching inside herself, Katia felt the reserves within her draining, slowly, as she continued growing bigger, her head swimming as she felt a nagging sensation, almost like she was drunk, plucking at her sensibilities. Modesty was already an occasional friend at best, but for some reason the increasing amount of eyes on her swelling female furry form excited her, being the centre of attention seemed like an AMAZING prospect.

"y'know, Quilly....gawking like that's understandable, but how about a closer look" Katia chuckled, bending down so as to let her now regular-persons-head sized breasts swing straight in front of the argonian. Quill-Weave couldn't help but stare as the red eyed khajiit then snapped her hands around her the smaller beastwoman's waist, and lifted her to Katia's grinning face, sharp teeth glistening in the dimming sunlight.

Katia bit into Quill's dress, ripping it free and set about licking the increasingly smaller seeming argonian, who was both too flustered, shocked and terrified to offer any resistance. The drunken state of Katia's mind had been completely blanketed by a very different sensation indeed; a vain beast of no morals and vast power. The once average heighted Khajiit was now at least five times as tall as she used to be, and with Quill in hand, she strode over to the Selkie statue, even as the local guards arrived in gradual amounts.

"I think Anvil needs a better centrepiece!" Katia bellowed, her voice deepening as her size increased. She kicked the statue into dust and sat in its place, knees rising as she continued to grow larger as her feet swished around the pondwater. Katia, mind not her own besides, knew she was only halfway done with her reserves, and watched amused as the gathering Anvil forces surrounded her loosely, some encroaching on the grassy banks by the city wall, while most remained on the paved sections. Katia carefully plucked Quill-Weave's underwear away in her clawtips, taking a moment to admire her increasingly small companion, before her focus was pulled away

"Katia Managan, put Quill-Weave down and surrender to us. We don't know what's wrong with you, but come quietly and we'll see about fixing this mess; nobody needs to be hurt" One of the braver guards said, slowly approaching from the flank of the towering Khajiit woman, who lounged like a Skyrim jarl, her womanhood exposed yet apparently she didn't care in the slightest. Katia gave Quill another long, exaggerated lick, eliciting an uncontrolled moan from the captive as the larger geometry of the thing brushed sensitive areas while keeping her gaze unbroken on the guards.

"Well, I'd LOVE to spend some time in the cells, all that male attention focus on poor little me, but I'm rather comfortable here, with the only person who ever gave a single damn about me. She's MINE, and so are ALL of you!" Katia growled, raising a leg and stomping a human sized foot on the water, the stonework shattering in a spiderweb fashion visible underneath as the water was widely splashed all about from the huge mass of her foot.

The guards stopped, unsure how to continue. They were soon joined by the mage guild members, the guards and robed figured conferring.

"K...Katia, please, stop this!" Quill finally managed to shake free of her fear, planting her hands on the huge fingers of the still enlarging Khajiit.

"It's fine, Quilly; I'm finally getting the respect and power I'm owed from all the shit I've dealt with, the admiration I deserve, and you're gonna be safe with me! Nobody else matters, just us, and everyone WILL bow" Katia whispered, despite the fact her voice carried regardless, increasing in volume for the final few words for greater effect. With a shudder, Katia's form swelled a spurt bigger, fast approaching ten times her original height, reserves down to the final third. Her mind swam of grand visions, a giant throne build in the Imperial City out of the White-Gold tower.

"I'm sorry, Katia, but you have to be stopped! This is your last chance!" A female voiced called, and Katia recognised the speaker. Carahil approached with her fellow mages, flashes and glowing lights lined their hands as spells were prepared.

Katia giggled like a child at first, before bellowing a full bellied laugh, the absurdity of it all.

She finally stood, well on the way to a hundred feet tall; her knees alone were three times the height of even the taller guards.

"Oh, please! Do go on. EMPRESS Katia awaits your challenge" She cackled, affecting a poor smarmy accent.

The mage guild members nodded to each other, Marc Gulitte stepped forward and threw a spell at the colossal cat woman.

At first she smirked, only to find the spell take hold. It was followed by a barrage of magic, her atronach absorption only caught a couple of spells as others singed her fur and pierced her skin.

Katia stumbled backwards, falling onto her grand ass with a mighty crack of stone and a shaking of earth.

"How DARE you!" she screamed, her voice loud enough to shock the assault into a brief cessation, a moment she capitalised on. She leapt to her feet with traditional feline grace, far more gravity lent owing to her huge mass, Katia leapt over the ring of guards and dashed around the wall seperating the main town with the docks adjacent to the keep bridge, squeezing between the temple to give her cover for the ascent. The barricade would do, the tiny mortals and their pin legs would take a few minutes to muster through the west gate to the docks.

Carefully looking at her hand, Katia looked at the terrified argonian, a look of worry on her face as it was evident the fall had lead to her breaking something of the argonians, she held her hip and grunted with pain.

Restoration, Katia briefly thought, I should heal her...then another thought lead to another, her mind whipped and weaved a plan. Sailors and dock workers scrambled and fled the giantess who knelt down by the Fo'c's'le.

"An Empress needs...loyal subjects..." Katia smirked, carefully laying Quill-Weave down, and she began to cast a spell before her magicka depleted...

3: More the Merrier.

The mob entered the docks minutes later, having taken stock of the situation, panicked dockworkers and sailors fled as the ground shook, the full eighty foot khajiit stood proudly, and to the guard and mages relief, she had stopped growing.

"Took your time, weaklings!" Katia, in a petty show of force, stamped on a nearby building, picking the warehouse and breaking it with ease as the spells began to fling her way again. Her weakness to magicka still present, Katia grunted as pain stacked and wounds grew. She withdrew again, leaping against the wall using the partially crumpled warehouse as a kick off point. This time heading back over the wall in plain sight now that her brief, wider run up made it less clumsy an attempt.

The central city wall buckled as bricks and masonry tumbled over both sides of the barricade, and Katia hopped down the other side, the sound of the crashing mages guild could be heard all over the city as Katia 'accidently' landed on it, breaking her former school as she continued her merry chase.

The guards watched as the naked, and more than a little damp, Quill-Weave staggered towards them, clutching her hip. A guard offered her a shoulder, and the pair withdrew to her home, at her insistence; she had a cabinet of potions to cure her wounds, and a bow to help assist the guards with once recovered. Not willing to turn away help, the guard obliged, getting her to her door before rejoining the group as they chased the khajiit titan, who had now fled over the northern wall of the city, outside of it proper, of course not without more structural damage.

Katia had thusly clambered out of view of the magic threat, and briefly tapped into her magicka senses. She looked at the timer on her magic absorption affliction, and found she had a good minute more to play keep away as her machinations took root. By the same token, though, she wanted to observe and act when the moment was ripe. She even accessed her 'to-do' list in her mind, adding a couple of lines, footnoted with the best of all; Take over the Empire.

Gaining a degree of familiarity with her size, she decided a visit was in order; a royal visit, or at least whatever a Countess counted as; Katia wasn't sure, but that was step one.

The Khajiit darted, ground rumbling with each step, around to the eastern side of the city, a mustering of the more seasoned guards formed a rather plain defense, standing in a line, shields bore proudly, each no bigger than one of Katia's claws, from end to end at the castle end of the bridge.

"You're ADORABLE, but I don't have any time to waste on you" Katia snickered and strode with confidence up to the line grouped just past the bridge, paddling in the shallow seawater, then ON the line as most of their number panicked and fled. One of the more shocked or dumbfounded guards simply dropped his shield as a yellow furred and pink padded foot, twice as long as he was tall, blocked cast a long shadow behind him and trailing up the castle wall.

With a long, toothy grin, Katia brought her appendage down; slowly, deliberately. The guard was first knocked flat, and as the broad pad most central to the foot contacted again, pressure rose and metal armour buckled. His ribs pushed on his lungs and air was forced out in a rapid, painful cough. The yellow fur cushioned some of the pressure where it pressed on him but it was akin to expecting a worn towel to block a warhammer; muscle and bone sheared and cracked in turn, abnormal forces expected of skin and organs failed and with a final squelch, a guard was spread thinly across the stone floor and underfoot.

Katia dragged her foot along the ground, partially wiping off her victim, but also pebbledashing the castle gate ahead of her in a futile gesture of disrespect as cobblestones were pulled from the floor, many stained crimson, leaving small chips and smears on the wall. Indeed, Katia was too important to waste time indulging in a siege, so instead, with another stomp forward, another guard mercifully crushed in quicker order under the same foot, the Khajiit raised her other leg, and half-stamped, half kicked the stone castle gatehouse ahead of her. It buckled like that dry, hard paper shell stuff Quill-Weave once made with starch-glue. This only emboldened her efforts as she saw about driving her arms into the just as flimsy main section of the building, pawing and searching, each rake of her hands pulling another layer of stone away. She had minutes at most, she had to work fast.

Quill-Weave dragged herself along the walls of her home, searing pain in her left hip. Her mind was flooded with weird sensations, almost like being drunk. She couldn't heal herself with a basic healing cantrip she'd picked up from Katia's guildmates either, it was like whatever Katia had done to her was quelling the typical magicka flow.

The Argonian pulled herself up the stairs and through the door of her bedroom, and up to Katia's dresser; she'd down some magicka potions and heal herself as a first aid; like any reasonable person, she HAD healing potions around, of course in a low chest in the corridor, and she dared not bend down with her fractured bones...that made sense, right? Couldn't she have collapsed by it and opened it?

Why didn't that make sense to her.

Quill again staggered, both from her injury and whatever other malady was on her, vision swimming from both. She was barely aware as she downed potion after potion, feeling her body take hold of the power within, and she attempted to heal herself as each negative effect wore off in quick succession. It briefly flared, an easing sensation cut through her like a cold shock of water after baking in the sun, but all too soon, the magic ceased. Instead, her stomach growled. The reddish woman looked down at her naked form, resting a hand on the interior of the dresser, other hand briefly pressed against her tight abdomen, a result of her frequent bouts of athletics and acrobatic jaunts around town.

The pain continued to ease, despite the lack of continued casting. The magic in the potions dwindled inside her. Shaking her head and walking a bit easier, she was too addled to piece together any theories or even truly absorb what was going on; her clumsy, luckless Khajiiti 'stray' squatter growing enormous, terrorising the city. She felt like she could have done something more; Katia clearly had some affinity to her from nowhere, likely fuelled by Quill's own admission on preferring the same gender, but Katia was straight, right?

Quill-Weave ran her hands over her muzzle and eyes, and threw on one of Katia's basic robes. It fell short, or felt like it did; usually they reached ankle height, but this one was apparently closer to a 'slut-cut' or something, long slits on either leg up to the hips; Katia was so funny at times, clueless but endearing...wait, wasn't she annoying?

The argonian stifled a belch, the result of chugging some six potions in rapid succession. It reminded her of how empty she suddenly felt without some magicka pumping through her. She limped back to the chest in the front landing of her home, popping the lid open, and taking out a set of larger, more robust and certainly less affliction-laced. She quaffed each, and fought her foggy mind, grabbing her bow and quiver of arrows from by the front door. Quill-Weave had to help Katia...stop...Katia? She ducked her head under the door-frame, vaguely aware of the sound of stretching fabric, and strode with increasing ease outside in search of her housemate.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Your Empress has seized your ineffectual leader!" Katia bellowed proudly, holding the tiny Imperial firmly. Several bloody smears were layered around the courtyard, a number of shallow craters, each vaguely foot-shaped, results of desperate attackers; even a few bloody marks, her own blood, on her ankle and heel. Most of the remaining guards, and the mage guild members stood on the bridge, bows nocked but undrawn, spells glowing but unformed. A standoff, naturally equal parts loyalty and fear prevented action against the Khajiiti giantess, a standoff on each end of the bridge.

The remains of Anvil Castle continued to crumble; it had been a swift and determined search, but of course when Katia had seen a circle of guards, she knew she had found her woman, desperately trying to find the basement through the increasingly damaged hallways and rooms.

Katia looked at her prisoner, and calmly petted her.

"Thanks for the dinner, by the way. That was an interesting experience. Don't you worry, I'm sure your small pocket of subjects won't want to anger me, or risk hurting you, right?" Katia rumbled, lidded red eyes filled with smug confidence.

The gathered protectors were at a loss how to proceed, although again, Marc Gulitte prepared another resistance shredding affliction. Moments later, with a casual glance back, one of the guards acknowledged an argonian presence behind them.

"Glad you're here; I don't think we can do anything to her, but maybe you can talk her down; you're friends, right?" The guard, an imperial, said before turning to face the argonian proper. He paused and stopped, dead still, as he was aware of the sound of ripping cloth, a show of multi-coloured greenish underbelly scales, a displayed womanhood at eye-level with the adult male.

"Looking good, Quilly" Katia grinned as the argonians eyes, already a red colour though flecked and complex, clearly shifted to a darker, uninterrupted shade.

"Yes, Katia. I'm feeling much better too!" she smiled and laughed, head nodding back and forth as her senses dulled, and only pleasing her housemate came through. Quill stepped forward as the last of her clothes fell, along with the snapped bow that was around her body, quiver scattering arrows all over the floor as with a low grunt, she now found her surrounding city-kin at their tallest mid-thigh.

"What in Oblivion..." Another guard said as Quill-Weave swung her arms across the guards, her increasing strength knocking many of them off the bridge. The mage guild members, in their distracted state, all turned to the new assailant, and Katia wasted no time flinging the Countess, gently-ish, to the sea, hopping dead center of the bridge, and structure shaking, cracking heavily enough to have the Khajiit fall through and leaving her with guards falling against her legs and into the water. Her lowered position, and a slight crouch later, grabbed the guild master and Marc as they attempted to keep their footing.

Their standoff had allowed Katia to again reach into the aether and observe the mages. Each strapped with magicka potions, as well as their impressive internal reserves, peaked and full to the brim. Too bad she didn't have time to cast any absorption spells herself; no, instead she had another means.

Opening her maw wide, she flung the two mages, one after the other, into the trap of pointed cat teeth, onto her wriggling tongue and with only a moments bite to save her mouth being burned by spellfire, the irony taste not wholly unpalettable, and swallowed them mostly whole. The joys of a suppressed gag reflex, she internally supposed.

Within moments, magicka again flowed through Katia, and with a low grumble from her midsection, as the shock of the rapid events took hold, the Khajiit continued her slow ascent.

4: Impending Threats.

Katia's reserves were draining notably faster than before, and offering less...improvement. As a mild ecstasy ran through her, she looked down and saw Quill-Weave darting about avoiding the panicking guards who fought back with blades while she was unarmed, as large as she was; cuts were present on her thighs and belly. The Argonian fled back through the gates into the city proper.

Katia looked down at the remaining mages, Felen and Thaurron, lay in the bridge wreckage, stunned, unconscious or dead; frankly, it didn't matter. Their tiny forms were needed. The Khajiiti colossus crouched low, scooping the two bodies along with a fair amount of broken bridge chunks, and stepped over the remaining pitiful gap.

Quill-Weave punched one of the guards full force in the face, sending the Breton tumbling back and into the water past Katia's feet, almost certainly dead from the way his limbs flailed loosely post-impact, only for her to receive a length of steel into her calf. She yelped, falling to one knee.

The guard, another Breton, possibly related the other, retrieved his blade, eyeing the Argonian who still, even kneeled, towered over him twice over, but all the same he retracted his arm to thrust at her head, only to find his arm seized in the air, as if his sword was already embedded. He struggled and pulled the grip, gasping in panic.

"Ahem" a booming, only vaguely female voice echoed around him. He turned, looking through the gate at the towering Khajiiti who peered through, as a cat through a mousehole, the guard made the snap comparison; he became aware that she was taller than any of the walls of the city; he barely came up to her ankle.

The colossus stood there, focusing on the sword with a sinister grin, before with a flick of her eyes to one side, it was pulled from his grip and sent him sprawling.

He barely had time to recover when he met his fate, as Quill-Weave punched his head into the increasingly bloody stone floor, popping his skull. Katia nodded with approval, before slowly kneeling down proper, the gentle motion still causing the ground to crack and the earth to shake, the Khajiit's weight must have been hundreds of tons.

"Oh, Quilly, what have they done to you? No matter, let your best friend out" She said, hushed and affectionately melodic, only to punctuate the tone by throwing the two mages on the ground before Quill-Weave, who tumbled up to her in a floppy, almost comical fashion.

With another intense stare, Katia telekinetically pulled a number of magicka potions and pressed them to the Argonians maw. Quill-Weave eagerly accepted each, swallowing each in turn, and with an increasingly familiar hum in her gut, a sense of wellness, and a subtle motion of her scales on the ground, reassured her mentally as her wounds sealed up without a trace physically.

"Oh, and let's not forget these two are quite the font of magicka as well...." Katia chuckled, standing again, more vibration on the ground even from the inertia of her standing, pushing against the ground.

The new 'Empress' observed the panicked civilians from afar by her prior 'throne' of the Selkie statue plinth, glanced at the bay watching some of the sailors pulling the sodden Countess from the water, still breathing, and then back down at her dear friend.

"We have a capital city to teach the new way of things" She winked a red eye as Quill-Weave stood, now roughly knee high to the increasingly slower growing Khajiiti woman, the differing speeds leaning to the Argonian slowly catching up.

"As my most loyal and dearest friend, I will await you by the gates" Katia sighed contentedly, and vanished from view, the reverberation of her footfalls around the eastern side of the outer city walls moving northward.

Quill-Weave trusted and received each word from her dear friend as if it were gospel, and looking down at the two mages, licked at her teeth. Deep within, Quill-Weave's own faded self wasn't even aware as her physical form indulged, refuellng her enlargement, only vaguely aware of a sensation of fulfillment and an insidious sensation that Katia had fucked everything up again. It was a far more crude struggle to down each mage, only Katia's suggestion to swallow them quickly overrode the complications of eating a cloth robed pair of humanoids. All the same,'food' baby in tow, Quill-Weave approached the gate, ducking low through the archway, shoved it open as one would any other door, and headed outside the castle gate and around the wall, not wishing to risk getting near the mob at the north end of town, despite the obvious fear.

"The Imperial City awaits, friend" Katia stood proudly, fists on hips like an excitable child, stance planting her legs either side of the road out of Anvil proper. Again, any eye-rolling on the Argonians part was largely quelled by the overwhelming compulsion to follow the bigger woman's every word. Largely there was a sense of empowerment as well, but it was always a harder pill to swallow for someone with an actual career and an on-the-level life, rat infested neighbors not withstanding, but any and all doubts soon became irrelevant as the fullness of her gut subsided, magical enlargement resumed and the burden reduced even as her magicka reserves swelled. All the same, Quill-Weave let Katia begin the journey east-by-north-east, still having to take several steps for every one of Katia's rumbling strides.

The difference settled by a narrowing margin, as Quill-Weave stopped growing a fair while after Katia's recent enlargement, half the Khajiit's size, a little over ten times the height of the average man to Katia's rough twenty. Thankfully her fitness mitigated any issues keeping up with the casual stride of her technical master. That said, the sun had set and the final remnants of light in the sky. Katia's eyes glowed blue as her night eye kicked in, and the thankfully clear night sky made her, sans glowing-eyes, a visible silhouette against the stars for Quill-Weave to follow. Their long legs were making short work of the journey, but there were many miles to the Imperial City.

Elsewhere;

"That's...a very literal interpretation of the rules, friend" A mellow, slurred voice roused from a hood, friendly despite the standoffish appearance. He sat at a table at the Eight Blessings in Kvatch, sitting opposite an eclectically dressed, bearded man with grey hair.

"FRIEND, is it? Are rivals friends? Are we buddying up just because of a shared platter of cured meats and fine cheeses? No, and I believe I've already won the bet" Replied the shiny-clothing clad man, accent atypical and strong.

"All I'm saying is, provided you're not afraid to make things more entertaining, enjoyable and overall more fun, is that you've satisfied one interpretation, and I feel like it would be a real shame to cut the festivities short, if you catch my meaning" The hooded man quaffed a goblet, refilling it and quaffing it once more, picking at the foodstuffs and shaking his head.

"This is such a dull place, I'm glad it's due for renovation"

"Oh piffle and fine, then, Scarlet-chops. We'll raise the stakes. I'll raise them so high you'll need a stepladder atop a mountain piled upon a rictus grin! My pieces are about to come and play, so I hope you're ready to lose!" The outspoken gentleman guffawed as the crockery and cutlery of the evening dining crowd shook and bounced on their wooden tables.

"Oh, using that dullard for fun? Fine, I needed some air anyway, and to follow the party" The hooded man stood along with the others, his companion followed suit in swift order and took up a walking stick. The people in the tavern all screamed as a great ball of flame landed outside the window and showered the interior with glass, cutting many. The gathered folks all screamed and bellowed as the quicker witted few shoved the door open and fled, a massing crowd gathering outside even as men clad in the guard uniform mustered to the town square.

The city gates were bashed open in good speed, magic and fire and might spilled through. Beasts of many shapes and forms rushed in, and the guards did their utmost to quell the violence, and the civilians scattered. Some fled to the temple, but many pushed around, with the combat encroaching on them, many being cut down by the shock troops, others by frightening looking humanoids in sharp black armour, but survivors were scattered nonetheless, Kvatch would be known and remembered by some as they ran around the vast horned gate that had appeared adjacent to their own more conventional wood and metal barricade, fractured as it was.

A group converged outside Kvatch's gates, the oddly dressed man and hooded fellow followed as they stopped fleeing momentarily as they reached a reasonable distance, some might have urged fleeing further, had they not stopped, gobsmacked, as a pair of giants strode past, barely acknowledging the crowd, the taller one regarded them for mere moments with glowing blue eyes before they carried on eastward. The footfalls of the pointy eared giantess could be felt on the ground, and daring not approach, the gathered survivors stood their ground and the more outspoken of their number began barking orders on how to act. Hushed to one side, the pair watched the passing curiosities as they walked away.

"I don't know your games, friend, but I am intrigued" Said the hooded man.

"Fie to your friend, foe! You've seen nothing yet!" Said the cane wielding man, who smiled, his gaze heading further east than the pair, staring through the foliage with unnatural accuracy to the White-Gold tower far away. His vision was momentarily blocked as a rather broad, green eyed, fully armoured fellow, full Imperial legionnaire gear dismounted his horse, conspicuously dragging a pile of humanoid and less than humanoid corpses behind it, and rushed into the city, steel drawn, bellowing a warcry.

The fancily clad man again turned to his hooded friend.

"Oh, and since I have rather already somewhat kind of won, how's about I get some of those casks of your special brew? I look forward to totally winning on a high WITH a high, hah!" The pair walked off into the dark.

Katia paused briefly after passing the city of Kvatch. She thought back to her adventure there, pondering the mage guild and her already massive size.

"Katia, what's wrong?" Quill-Weave asked, placing a hand on the Khajiit's hip, almost like a child would clutch the dress of a mother.

"Oh, nothing, merely wondering if I should improve my stature before reaching the Imperial city....but then, my plans for making the Tower my throne wouldn't work. Still, a trump card couldn't hurt" Katia scritched her own chin.

"Well, there's the atronach stone that's mostly on the way to the city. It will take us around Skingrad, but I heard tales that it will bestow you even greater capabilities of absorbing magicka...although the last time I found one, I couldn't exactly get it to do anything" The Argonian looked across the dark fields, struggling to see.

"Well, it's worth a look, and I'd rather not risk being pelted with more magic and arrows by Skingrad. I mean, as increasingly regal as I seem by becoming bigger, I think I'm in danger of becoming a bit TOO regal perhaps." Katia cleared her throat, trying to seem very in control and completely aware of her abilities and limitations. The escape from Anvil, notwithstanding, mind addled state besides, Katia was only following her objectives, blindly.

"Of course though, if a substantial threat, however unlikely, occurs, more absorption would work...and for yourself too, my dearest friend....by the way, Quill-Weave" the Khajiit knelt down, leaving her mostly of a similar height to her friend.

"Yes, Katia?" An instinct of having such a vast being close her head to her own tried to make her flinch or back away, but her trust overcame it. She was then wrapped in a huge hug, Katia nuzzling her affectionately. For the first time in a while, she felt embarrassment, drawn from a memory, the situation compounded her compulsion enough to make her awkwardly grip at Katia's large head as a returning hug.

Their moment lasted a while, before Katia lifted Quill-Weave up onto her shoulders, gently gripping her calves for stability.

"Let's see about that rock" She beamed a smile, although hard to see from their respective positions, and wandered north east at Quill-Weave's rough general directions.

So it was, after a few hours wandering in the dark, Katia complaining her feet hurt after standing on numerous pointy boulders and accidently stepping on a farmhouse, the pair became lost.

Deciding after a while that very little would post a realistic threat to Katia, and with Quill-Weave becoming increasingly tired, the pair decided to settle in for sleep at the mouth of a cave, the rocks around it forming a reasonable seating position for a Khajiiti of her size, her Argonian companion resting across her thighs.

5: Siege of the Imperial City, Plus Two

Daybreak bathed the giantess' in sunlight, stirring them awake with its camel-breaking straw of otherwise uncomfortable nonbedding and aching body-parts. Still, Katia had gained sufficient sleep for what could hopefully be her inauguration! Quill-Weave, having the plush fur and proportional fat layer of Katia's thighs had a far more restful time, and only awoke as Katia shifted position.

"Morn'n Quilly" Katia yawned and scooted herself away from the rocky structure surrounding the cave her immense ass had blockaded all night. Quill-Weave deftly slid off her perch and stretched, smiling contentedly at the surprisingly pleasing sleeping arrangements. If she could blush, she would have as she snapped her eyes on Katia's off-red own and for a moment wanted to profess a conventional morning greeting, but babbled slightly as it tinged with something far more appropriate to her mental state.

"Morning, dear....uh, Katia" Quill-Weave froze as she watched Katia finish stretching, seemingly unaware of the slip. The Khajiit planted her hands on the ground, only to have a pinprick shoot through her hand.

She screeched loudly, raising her hand to her face, observing a rusty sword embedded in it, then down at the cave she'd been blocking. A skeleton stood, shield in its left hand but now disarmed.

"Fucking undead!" Katia roared and plucked the sword from her hand, cast it flinging into the distance, and slammed an elbow down on the fragile bones, pulverising it. She then spent no time standing, turning and with vim, vigour and rage, slammed her foot down above the entrance, causing the cave to collapse. Katia licked her small wound, and Quill-Weave clambered atop the hill the cave lead under.

"I can see the stones, Katia! C'mon, we can be there and then straight on to the Imperial City by midday" The Argonian waved Katia up the hill to her, and having little else to go on after her tantrum against the animated bones, the pair resumed their march.

They were well on their way to what appeared to be two sets of standing stones. Their approach had the rather expected effect of many small critters, and slightly less small critters like bears rush off to the side rather than face the towering pair.

Both sets of standing stones were in comparitive near distance to each other, so close they could shout to each other if each companion was at a seperate stone. Unfortunately, as Quill-Weave had already feared, and hoped her feelings of significance of both herself and especially Katia, would trigger something. These were sadly shortsighted. That said, Quill-Weave couldn't help but find it deeply distracting when Katia wrapped her muzzle around the stone and licked around it.

Having wasted some hour pondering and retrying business with the stones, the pair continued eastward, able to see the White-Gold Tower in the distance.

"Is that...smoke?" Katia tilted her head, before offering a boost to Quill-Weave to climb on her shoulders again.

Clearly fires had broken out in the Imperial City, and a few fiery-red oval-shaped...things were present around the environment. Some had even cropped up behind them.

"I don't know what's going on, but it can't be good" Quill-Weave offered nothing more outside of an obvious observation, although realistically, it wasn't as though much could be said or done in this case. This is likely why Katia's objective suddenly flared in her own mind.

"My future subjects need me! Let's go!" The Khajiit's enthusiasm and foolhardiness drove her into a jog, the Tower a perfect marker in the distance.

The Imperial City was under siege. Assassins going under the banner of the Mythic Dawn had broken into several key structures, and assassinated the Emperor and his local offspring. Their plan was going swimmingly, although they had lost some of their number in the pursuit of Uriel Septim the Seventh, and the straggler blades and a loose prisoner had vanished. It mattered little, they had gained considerable traction, and hordes of daedra had managed to get through into the city proper. The Imperial Watch were a staggered defense, and largely chaos roamed the streets in the majority, with small pockets of resistance elsewhere.

The pair arrived in good time, although the largely placid activities of the once regular Khajiit, now gasping for air as she first placed her carrying companion down, and took a seat as she fought to catch her breath.

Civilians and less brave guards and legionnaires, or perhaps at least those safeguarding the evacuees, were gathering at the western bridge of the city, Weye as it was known and those with unbroken wills stood between the giant pair and the civilians.

"Wh....*wheeze* what's going....*cough*" Katia tried to stand, present herself as the soon to be regal type she believed herself to be, but a lack of routine physical action soon put a stop to that as she gobbed up a sizeable lump of phlegm instead.

Understanding her bigger friends' issue and query, Quill-Weave took over.

"What's going on here exactly?" She asked, briskly, standing tall, arms crossed against her firm lizard mounds and adopting an A stance to appear authoritative. An older Imperial Legionnaire glanced at his fellows before responding, having no realistic choice besides out of fear of threat to his civilian charges. The delay was increased slightly as the gigantic Khajiit wheezing and heavy breaths were strong enough to enact a mild pushing on the guards, as though standing in strong winds.

"Daedra and worse are attacking the city! A cult called the Mythic Dawn had been making moves recently and we didn't act soon enough, now we fear the Emperor is dead and the city is lost...uh...who are you, exactly?"

"We are..." Quill-Weave glanced at Katia, who was still recovering, but she stood tall before the terrified cityfolk, orange eyes winking with a rather forced confidence despite her less than stellar entrance.

"I...am Katia Fucking Managan, and I..." she held a dramatic pause. "Am your new Empress!" A punchable smugness permeated from her as she resumed her march towards the city. The Argonian followed in tow after offering a wave to the crowd, who were simply shocked into silence as they watched, as well as felt with each step, the pair head towards the besieged city

Katia notice the large gatehouses on the bridge, although each was thankfully small enough for her to climb over.

"Katia, please go on ahead, I'll climb over, but you've got to get in there and help out!" Quill-Weave called as the Khajiit mounted the first gatehouse, and strode on the bridge. She stepped with authority, straight backed and unashamed at her vast nakedness. She was powerful, she was a savior with a goal to accomplish.

She also greatly overestimated how wide the bridge was after the gatehouse, only about as wide as one and a half of her feet, causing her to clumsily flail her arms to catch her balance, fail as the edges of the bridge collapsed, and send her sprawling onto, not quite deep enough at this section to fully immerse her, Lake Rumare. The displaced water soaked the land akin to heavy rainfall for a good couple of seconds, even reaching Weye proper and dousing many of them in the finer spray.

"These are truly the end times. We're doomed" The older Legionnaire shook his head and simply threw his helmet to the floor. The giantess was still for a moment, before

"I'm okay!" Katia waved and stood, attempt to save face by eating the tiny fish finally lead to Quill-Weave slapping her forehead, earning a satisfying and loud clap. The Argonian elected instead to take the easier land-route, water only getting shin deep at worst, and after picking a few more fish in the worlds tiniest snack, Katia also stood and climbed the hill, the pair entering the city proper.

6: The Empress Impresses

The City was under siege, this was true, but the worst was yet to come. The Mythic Dawn knew it, and were doing their best and worst to keep things in a chaotic state so as to lend their deity time to attack personally. The carnage scattered about did a fair job in distracting everyone as to the approaching threat, the towering yellow furred giantess scrambling over the wall. The sound of cracking stone was mired amidst other sounds of fire, lightning and other magicka in force around the area.

Serendipity, as was often the case to her goals, took hold; her dismounting from the wall placed her behind the Mythic Dawn front-line, the majority of their concentration focused on the central defence, mostly Imperial Legionnaires and mage guild members, and a few brave souls eager to help defend their homes. The Mythic Dawn had been mustering whatever unscrupulous sell-swords and spurned types to swell their ranks, as well as the robed faithful.

A strategic crossfire was ongoing, although all combat ceased from the defending side as Katia stood and took a moment to discern what she could. Seeing the normal folk and Imperial soldiers made her snap her amber eyes onto the line of hooded and makeshift forces immediately before her. She smiled, pointy teeth glistened and she crouched slightly, wiggling her hips, and proceeded to leap as high as possible, slightly ahead, straight down on the Mythic Dawn line.

Five attackers were immediately spread unevenly around the huge feet, splattering their companions. The floor buckled, the paving on the floor shattered and send a few of the other, uninjured Dawn forces to the floor. Katia wasted little time regaining her balance and stamping down again, widening her landing stance and smearing a bunch more humanoids underfoot. She then dragged her feet around in a crude dance, just the mere motions knocking and striking the remaining folk about.

Most were knocked out or dead, a few scrambled away, but the damage was most certainly done, breaking the siege of the main road, and in record time! Katia beamed as she watched Quill-Weave hop off the outer wall and into the street, rolling expertly, even if her increased mass still crumpled the road surface. She punctuated the motion by sweeping up a fleeing Dawn member in one hand, and squeezing him with a satisfying pop, pushing ribs into vital organs, and casually dropping the body to the ground. The comparison between the two acts certainly scored credence points for Quill-Weave, were it not for the effectiveness of the Khajiit's actual numbers slain.

"Alright, let's keep this momentum going! I have a great feeling about this!" Katia pumped her fists like a child being told they had the day free with their friends rather than a magicka grown giant Khajiiti. "All we need to do is mop up these hooded guys and we'll be done by night time"

Quill-Weave brushed some loose masonry from one shoulder and rolled them both, warming up.

"Doubt it'll be that easy, Katia, but yeah, we have a real chance to make a difference here" It was a liberating sensation; being as big as she was, that was one thing, but seeing the destruction around her and having an obvious enemy who didn't realistically stand a chance against the two of them actually had a pretty major effect on her own optimism. Quill-Weave was a writer, sure, but she traveled, she'd seen combat, albeit usually from afar. Katia had apparently seen some action, but she was also a bit tight lipped about her travels to Kvatch as a whole, and on returning with a good word from the mage guild there, spent her time back and forth at the Anvil mages guild.

"Wonder if they'll be able to inaugurate me by tomorrow morning? This is pretty exciting- I mean, it's actually kinda scary...uh... but REALLY amazing" Katia shook her head slightly, her eyes fading to yellow for a split second before turning back to a pale orange.

"Right, well, best get to it, day's wasting. What's the plan?"

"Right, yes, definitely....um" Katia blinked and looked around, somewhat lost. To her, the walls were akin to solidly high fences, but she couldn't see much besides smoke and hear much more than distant clashings of metal, blasts of magic.

"Maybe we should split up. Circle around? I'll go north, you go south" Quill-Weave patted Katia on the side of her flat belly, dragging her friends attention back down and granting focus again. Conflicting mental boundries were shifting in both their minds, but all things faded as the pair shared a slightly extended stare. They hadn't known each other THAT long, but Katia had depended on her so much and Quill-Weave was a sufficiently soft touch...

"Okay, sounds good" The Khajiit nodded, and couldn't resist another hug, crouching down as though Quill-Weave was her child being sent to school. The two broke and headed their seperate ways, leaving a a confused gaggle of civilians, soldiers and a couple of mages wondering just what else could happen today.

Katia proceeded to climb over the southern wall into the Temple district. The scene was much the same here, a few differing lines of conflict here and there. Her childish glee at being a metaphorical and literal big hero along with wavering self-doubts as to what the fuck she was doing there caused a moments hesitation. A long enough pause that several Mythic Dawn members turned and gawped.

"Is that a giant fucking Khajiit?" Said a female member.

"Yes....yes it is....not bad to look at either, but what in Oblivion is she doing here? And WHY?"

A couple of the cults mages had gathered their thoughts, and began throwing magic at the giant. The fire and lightning splashed against a barrier just off her body, absorbing into her own being rather than inducing harm. She broke from her daydream, gasping slightly, and blinking rapidly as reality seemed to sink back in. She then slowly began to smile, her off-yellow eyes growing a few shades darker.

"Oh, she's turning around! Heh, bigger they are the harder they fall, hopefully, either that or she'll bugger off" Said the female Cultist.

"Can but hope. Wait, what the-" A massive rumbling crash, and the ground shook violently as what must have been a thousand tons of Khajiit ass landed on the mages and their front-guard behind the pair, two vast thighs, each as long as the pair of them tall and more, hung overhead. They couldn't exactly capitalise on the opening, such as it was, seeing as they both were toppled by the quaking ground. The giant then scrambled slightly to stand, the slightly plush fur covered meat above them pushed them to the ground, drops of blood and viscera then dripped onto them, the Khajiit's bloody buttcheeks received a casual dust down, doing little but shake a few sticking lumps of stone off, as she then turned on the spot.

"Always wanted to do that...well, since I was big enough to do so. Literally kiss my ass, bad guys! This city has a new ruler, Katia Managan! Bow before me and- FUCK!" she bellowed as one of the two surviving cultists stabbed her in one of her feet. Dark orange eyes looked down with bared, pointed teeth in a rather scary scowl.

The female cultist looked at her friend, who partially hid a bloody-tipped sword behind his back, looking between herself and the enraged giant, then back, then pointed at her.

"Oh, fuck you"

The male cultist was sprayed with blood as a flash of pink and yellow hammered down on the female cultist, and just as every good turn deserves another, the Khajiit simply flicked her leg across the other cultist, lifting him into the air and off to the side, slamming into the upper quarter of the city wall. As blackness swam into view in his vision, his arm flopped wildly to one side and his teeth popped out of his mouth, his final moments were spent regretting not going to temple service in worship of the Nine, before his neck shattered landing on the damaged pavement.

Katia seethed as her magicka reserves wore thin again. Her growth had resumed, but aside from maybe growing a few feet taller, the one takeaway from it was a renewed sense of purpose.

She WOULD rule this city, she WOULD crush these cultists, and the civilians WOULD bow to her.

As the remnants of the Mythic Dawn again scrambled away, those that remained and weren't too shocked to sit still while they were run through by Imperial steel.

Katia began to walk towards the next district, circling around a large central temple, only to watch two dark spikes thrust from the ground, as big as the walls themselves, the center glowing red. Katia stood defiant, even as her growth stopped, and her eyes once more faded from dark orange to an off-yellow.

To the North, the nimble Argonian giantess took to her savior position rather well. Sure, a bow would be more comfortable, but when the average opponent was only twice as tall as her ankle, she soon found herself ignoring the growing amount of blood on her feet and clawed hands. She punted a cultist into the air, who screamed right up until with a show of reflexes and desterity, Quill-Weave punched him across the elven garden district, watching with satisfaction as he left a spray of crimson along the trail.

"I don't know who you are, miss, but you're a sight for sore eyes...uh...I mean that in a 'you've saved many lives' way, not in a 'giant naked lizard' way" Spoke a robed Imperial, slightly bloodied but standing firm, looking up at her. Long since past modesty, Quill-Weave relaxed slightly spotting he was dressed as a typical mage rather than armed and armoured or in the Cultists dark red robes or peculiar armour.

"Oh, uh, thanks. Just trying to help out I suppose. I'm with a friend, another giant, although bigger. Hopefully with all of us working together, we'll be able to get things under control" She sighed and went to scratch her head, although stopped when she noticed the blood coating her fingers, a result of many raking slaps, claws not always needing to contact properly to send the cultists flying.

Well, don't let me stop you, but I watched your assault and couldn't help but wonder if I could...let's call it augment your abilities. It's been my experience that a spell that conjures a weapon to the hand of the caster seems to produce a weapon of the appropriate size" He grinned, sparking a sphere of magicka to his hand.

"That would...certainly help." Quill-Weave wiped her hand on a nearby flag. A loud rumbling sounded in the distance. "Hold that thought...uh, name?"

"Raminus Polus, and what's wrong" He glanced about, becoming aware that even she couldn't see over the city dividing walls.

"Just about to find out..." She sprung, the inertia made him stagger as she clambered up on top of a nearby building with ease, even as the structure itself struggled somewhat.

"By the Nine....uh....Raminus? Do you know anything about giant, darkish skinned with glowy lined guys with four arms?"

"I- wait, four arms? Lined skin? I've heard something like that... what colour skin?"

"No idea, colourblind. Probably blue or red or purple or something if it isn't just grey" The bigger argonian shrugged

Another argonian woman, though normal in scope and clearly clothed, stepped up to Raminus.

"Sounds like Mehrunes Dagon, or one of his most common forms, at least. Why?" She looked up at her gigantic hist-sister with worry strong enough on her face that even one inexperienced with the Argonian race could tell she was moments from running at the inevitable response.

"He's in the city... Listen, we need a plan"

7:Back to Nature, Unwilling, Necessary

A vast Oblivion gate arose inside the walls, a towering, red skinned and four armed humanoid entered the realm of men, proudly standing and watching the grand capital burning around him. At last, his chance to destroy a plane largely untouched by himself, his previous excursions ending in failure. Mehrunes Dagon would have his goal achieved, and Tamriel would know nothing but destruction. An axe in his upper right and a clawed vambrace in his lower left stood ready to sow carnage.

Mehrunes Dagon was confused, however, that his first encounter was a yellow furred beast, taller than he was by a firm twenty feet or so, although considerably slighter. This was no warrior, he surmised as he plotted his attack. He shifted his axe to his upper left hand.

"Hah, finally, a true challenge of my rule stands before me! Although I don't really want to fight anything too...uh..." She spoke like a leader, at least to begin with, before the voice narrowed down to a mewling at best.

Mehrunes Dagon rolled his neck, earning a deep, troubling cracking sound as he stepped forward, raising his right arms back and high as he rushed at her.

Katia went wide eyed and flung her own arms up and in the way, catching one fist by happenstance, but earning a firm crack in the side of her head with the other. She spun, her eyes lost clarity as they returned to her natural yellow. The Khajiit tumbled to the floor, bouncing off a nearby building first before rolling a short distance away.

Katia gasped and went to stand, even as her haughtiness faded and a terrified young woman buried under a pile of failure resurfaced. Sure, she was so big not much on Nirn could face her. This wasn't something of Nirn though. This was something that was running up to her, swinging a foot into her ribs.

She tumbled further back and impacted the central Temple of the One as a gush of blood poured out of her mouth. Her lungs burned, the the air tasted bad. If there was a time for courage, a time to show what she was capable of, this was it, but some people aren't destined for much, even less a slutty Khajiit with wide eyed ideas of being a hero. This was it, she would die in a city she didn't know, to a foe shorter than her, naked after boasting about becoming Empress. Today wasn't one of her best.

"Pathetic" Mehrunes Dagon growled and stomped up to her crumbled body. He pressed a foot against her head and slowly pushed down.

Then, out of the blue, a glowing blue, translucent arrow interrupted his view, the impact lightly staggering him, as he readjusted his stance and rested a hand against the Temple. He slowly turned, only to earn another arrow, this time in the shoulder.

Standing atop the city wall, wide stanced and bared teeth, a large, though smaller than he, Argonian, clutching an equally phantasmal bow. She drew the string, another arrow appeared, nocked and ready to loose.

"Hey shithead" She muttered, letting another arrow fly. Mehrunes Dagon brought his arms in front of him, the first arrow embedded in him faded and the wound began to heal just as the third was prevented from hitting anywhere crucial on him, stabbing through his lower left. He pulled the arrow, which dispelled it quicker, and charged at the new opponent.

Katia sobbed as tears fell from her eyes, coughing more blood up as she shakily sat herself up against the temple. Even crying hurt, everything since that book was a disaster and she wished the Imperial City would just suck her into the ground and bury her.

As she watched Mehrunes Dagon leap and climb over the wall after her only friend, which she doubted really cared anymore after all she'd put her through as well, reality sunk in like a plunging dagger. She was going to die today, no doubt. If she didn't, how would she eat? Her stomach rumbled in mocking compliance with the line of thought.

"Hey, big girl" A raspy voice called. A shout, a requirement in the ongoing combat although rather muted in the immediate area. Katia wiped at her eyes and tried to focus through the tears.

A tiny, comparatively, argonian, dressed in mages robes, looked up at her.

"Quit your blubbering, I'm here to help. Look, carefully pick me up, we're going to get this sorted out" She raised her arms, looking a bit unsure as Katia tried to control her breathing, slowly lowering a hand down to the tiny lizard. Gently placing her fingers around her, she gingerly lifted her, brought her other hand under her, and dropped the newcomer onto her eight-foot wide palm.

"Listen, your friend told us a rough short-hand of what's going on. If you can get us over the other side of the city, where the Arcane University is, we can get you magicka'd up, bigger than ever and you can take that Daedra out...well, here, anyway." Technicalities, she thought to herself.

Katia sniffed as mucus streaked from her nose, tinged red from the blood in her mouth. It wasn't a good look.

"B...but I'll just mess it up, I...I cc....I can't!" She whimpered, her breathing causing the argonians robe to flutter about.

"Oh for Mara's mercy...." the argonian grumbled, and shot a couple of spells into the Khajiit's hand, the magic dispersing around the appendage as her atronach nature consumed it.

Katia's sobbing eased, her eyes seemed unfocused for a moment and flickered a light orange, then back to yellow.

"Look, I don't know what magicka abomination you cast on yourself or your friend, but it's obvious whatever courage it instilled has been fading. Your friend only gave me a few hints, but I imagine you're going to need a LOT of magicka to get yourself up to snuff to deal with this problem."

"Perhaps a little liquid courage might suffice?" Another voiced called from below. A similarly robe clad man sat upon a large barrels, taller than he was, and as broad. Many more were being moved into position, each was surrounded with a purple haze of magical weight reduction but even so it took a few hands around each to get them moving. A smattering of local mages and a few more from the University finished placing them around before they drew a few axes and hammers; nothing fancy, just tools for a purpose

"What on earth are you doing here?" The argonian called, crouching down so as to not fall off the unsteady palm of the giantess.

"Funny story, we were all set for you to turn up when a strangely dressed man with grey hair turned up with these vast things, told us you'd be here, and to offer our gargantuan friend a little something to lift her spirits!" The mages set at the barrels, chopping and breaking the lids of each, a murky, dark liquid within. A massive stench of potent alcohol swept the area, wafting higher and higher until it struck the Khajiit's pink nose.

Katia's eyes went wide. Escape from worthlessness. It was time to bury it. Katia slowly reached down to it, the argonian in her hand hopped off as soon as it was safe enough to. The Khajiit brought the shot-glass sized barrel up to her mouth, but hesitated. Again, she was being tested, at ropes end, did she really want to do this?

It was a mature thought process, as once again her demons tried to drag her back to nature, or rather, her old self. Suddenly a barrage of spells, mostly harmless ones, poured into her, flooding her reserves with power, her eyes turned red, a confident and slightly sinister grin lined her face, and she quaffed the barrel, then another barrel, and another. More and more...

To the east, a game of cat and mouse, featuring no rodents or felines despite one present, was underway. A combination of acrobatics and deft archery, loosing arrows bigger than trees frustrated and harmed, if not necessarily injuring, the four armed Daedric God. Not needing a quiver also helped. Between crushing the Mythic Dawn and performing a daring distraction, Quill-Weave was very much enjoying the antithesis of her companion, even if the odds weren't exactly in her favour. Still, she had shorthanded a plan to the Arcane University, and she could only hope her mosquito stings were enough to entertain Destruction encarnate.

"Just keep moving, breathing, loosing..." A hushed mantra for troubled times that had kept the author true many times, and none truer here. This was no pack of bandits near to her home, where a straight sprint against armoured opponents would generally see her home safe, or at least give her room to get out of sight or even set free a couple of arrows to deter a mortal foe. She'd only heard of the sort of mess she'd be in if this Mehrunes Dagon got his many hands on her.

She darted between the trees of the arboretum, hopping onto the central gazeebo and spun in the air, drawing and loosing an arrow at the helpfully bright red target behind her in active pursuit. She landed facing away again and dashed ahead. The bow in her hands disappeared just after the arrow punched a small hole in daedric thigh, slowing him slightly but now she hoped Raminus was in place. With no buildings near it, her ascent of the far sector wall was slower starting from the ground instead of having a ramp.

It certainly brought her expectations of escaping this quest unscathed tumbling as the massive axe Dagon was wielding embedded itself above her shoulder and just missing her head. The handle blocked her climb and she tried to adjust, but the walls really weren't designed for a woman of her sheer mass, the hundred plus tons of her pulling masonry with each clawing motion, leaving weaker and unshapen material to have second tries at.

That said, the axe was a rather useful thing, considering how deep it had been buried in the wall. She pulled herself up, planted a clawed foot and shoved herself up and over the wall. Quill-Weave didn't even want to think of how near Dagon was now, but she spotted the arena, her meeting point with Raminus. Without hesitation, she threw herself within, hissing with pain as the hop left her landing feet first onto the obnoxious spikes lining the outer wall of the sandy pit. Some punctuered her softer unscaled skin on her soles but they broke, allowing her freedom of movement.

She dragged herself as near to the wall and into the shaded area of the stands. She caught her breath as quickly as possible, three extra deep inhales and exhales, before she brought her breath shallow, attempting to hide. A small flash of light appeared around the other side of the stand, a robed Imperial waving at her. She brought an extended finger to her muzzle but dared not utter the sound to correspond with it.

Thankfully he nodded, and with a panicked expression and an ominous rumble through the ground, he briskly cast a spell and vanished from sight.

Quill-Weave was keenly aware as the sounds near her, footfalls of a hunting giant, drew near. She felt her heart rate quicken, realising how this situation was likely going to come to a head. A red fingered hand clutched the side of the arena upper walls. Her eyes went wide, this was it.

The horned and toothy mawed face looked over the lip, studying around the arena floor, and straight at her. Panic froze her into inaction, and yet, the daedric prince seemed to continue his observations elsewhere, then moved away from the arena edge. Quill-Weave slowly exhaled and looked around, and soon became aware that she couldn't even see herself.

"Easy there, miss, just in time" a whisper near her head. He came into view as his spell expired. "Are you alright? I saw your landing, if you can pull those spikes out of your feet I can heal your wounds." He continued, feeling vaguely for her again, only to suddenly find his limbs pinned to his sides as a huge, scaled but unseen hand wrapped around him. He was pulled into the air. His captor came back into view, sitting cross legged and using her other hand to pluck the metal spikes from her feet, wincing with each done.

"Gotta make this quick, if we take too long- ugn....he's going to get back to Katia, I just know it" she barely breathed, knowing her voice carried further being bigger.

"Fine...loosen me a bit...okay" Raminus dropped down onto her thigh, and cast a few spells. The relief was immediately clear on Quill-Weave's face.

"Ah, thanks...and the potions?"

The mage pointed at the opposite side of the arena.

"Sorry, they were weighing me down and I heard your approach. Hope you know what you're doing, because you're not going to have many hiding places afterwards if what you say is true"

"Well, should kinda level the playing field" Quill-Weave cradled the Imperial, and placed him back down on the arena sand, then crawled carefully over to the other side of the arena, finding a pair of crates stuffed with blue bottles.

"No easy way to drink these..." She sighed and poured both boxes into her maw, biting them and wincing as the gritty glass remnants caused a prickling on her tongue and throat as she swallowed.

"Nine's grace on you, miss" Raminus said and cast one last spell. A blue, translucent bow appeared in Quill-Weave's hand as her belly growled, the magicka potions evaporating and filling her with power, the sands underfoot shifting as she grew once more.

"Just keep moving, breathing, loosing..." She whispered and scrambled out of the sandpit, a sight of so much death. She stood to and watched as Mehrunes Dagon was about to finish his climb over the wall back towards where Katia last was. His climb was ceased as an arrow caught him in the calf.

The red giant turned and frowned as the Argonian, creeping up to his height now, pulled the bowstring.

"Any time, you dumb fucking cat" Something rang odd about her utterance for a split second, as though her thought process had shifted a bit back to normal, and despite her magicka reserves still going strong, her growth shuddered, sputtering, and with one half-hearted surge, left her at just about a hundred feet tall.

"Fantastic" she turned and fled after Dagon continued after another arrow loosed.

The chase resumed, and thankfully she had a launching block by the wall to the market district. A flawless leap, despite her even greater weight, as the height helped.

Not so much when, second time being a charm, the grand axe of Mehrunes Dagon slammed into her left shoulderblade, the ground quaking as she impacted the central road in the next district.

Quill-Weave screamed and felt her already damaged shoulder slam into the ground and fracture completely. It took all her being to crawl for distance, but with a ill-conceived glance behind her, the daedric prince stood tall, an unchanged stern look on his face.

"Not bad, weakling, but the game is over" he rolled his neck, earning a satisfying pop.

The moment was momentarily cut short as a lightning bolt struck him in the back of his head, spitting from the arena entrance by a tiny robed man, arcing along Dagon's body, although he barely registered it, but he turned his head slightly to look down, then dropped towards Quill-Weave regardless.

"I grow tired of these distractions, I have a world to crush" He snarled and approached as the Argonian's vision grew dim from the pain.

A deeper quake than his footfalls, her landing, anything the Imperial city had felt before brought all proceedings to a halt.

"You're notta very nice man...but fuckin' Oblivion knows you'll do" a vast, echoing voiced called. This time Dagon did turn, looking up at a yellow furred, red eyed Khajiit at her lidded, unfocused eyes; a flush present through her facial fur, swaying slightly.

"See, right now, you've gottabout two options....either you come an' fuck me, or I'mma gonna fuck you" she attempted to laugh in an almost villainous way, then belched loudly, and giggled before taking a step that began as an attempt to stand onto the district wall, but the already damaged barricade collapsed, the Khajiit barely keeping upright but maintaining her stare on the Daedric Prince, hunger in her eyes.

8: When you're fucked, you're fucked

A giant Argonian bled gallons onto the stonework floor. A daedric prince, a recent arrival from his home of the Deadlands of Oblivion, stood in honest shock, as these two entities were nothing compared to the sheer enormity of the fact that he stood only up to the waist, then the hips with one surge, of the actual bizarre threat before him, and even that paled into comparison for the distant watchers, morbid curiosity, shock... it mattered not.

She was still no fighter, no martial match, but sometimes that didn't matter. In a world of might making right, Mehrunes Dagon was well aware he stood no chance here. Had he the wherewithal to respond, he would have maybe dodged, fled and tried to get back to his gate, instead, with shocking accuracy considering how utterly wasted she was, he instead had two giant hands clamp around both pairs of his and pushing him to the floor, on his back.

With an expert bite, Dagon found his armoured loincloth pulled free from his hips, the Khajiit flicking it expertly to one side.

For the first time since his rebirth as the Prince of Destruction, the obsession to dominate and eliminate pushing all other desires beyond his mind, a crossed connection caused a true first on Nirn as Khajiiti tongue met otherworldly dick, only opposite to the usual 'evil invader' methodology; local mortal was dominating invading Daedra.

"U-Unhand me! I will not.....uggnnn!" He bellowed as the muzzle molestation proceeded. Nobody truly knew how many times the young Khajiiti woman had performed the act, but it stood to reason that the efficiency of the act, the number of people usually ashamed to bed a so-called 'beast race', the equal number who had absolutely no issue of skin on fur (or scale, as the situation demanded), but the energetic glowing skin of the Daedric lord was a new sensation on both of them frankly.

"You taste kinda spicy! Not normally my thing but fuckin' Nine knows I've had worse!" She moaned deeply as she resumed the act, tongue reaching beyond the shaft and lapping at the purse below. Her technique was incredible, although it may have something to do with the sheer vast expanse Dagon had last felt any sexual thrill, much less from a dominating opponent.

He only barely became aware that while this was going on, she was continuing to grow in small bursts, more and more of him being engaged.

Quill-Weave would have been blushing, or the closest Argonian equivalent, if it wasn't for the bloodloss she was experiencing. A blurry robed figure appeared in front of her from nowhere, Raminus making up for her lack of blushing as he tried to tear his eyes away from the literally vast lewd acts going on nearby.

"I can heal you again, miss, but it'd be pointless with that axe still in you...can you get it out?"

"Pretty sure it's stuck between in my fucking shoulderblade and spine and embedded in the back of my ribs....I think I'm gonna....pass...." She slumped, eyes closing, breathing shallow.

"Oh no....no, come on man, think...." The Imperial looked around, even considering bringing a large number of civilians over, but the axe was easily as tall as any of the buildings in the district. It would likely take all of them to drag it loose, let along stuck in someone. "I'm going to regret this, I can just see it" He shook his head, and stepped around Quill-Weave's slumped form.

"YOU, KHAJIIT, YOUR FRIEND IS DYING, I NEED YOUR HELP! FINISH HIM OFF AND GET OVER HERE!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Over the writhing form of the Daedric Prince, Katia turned an amber eye to him, then pulled her face away from his nethers.

"Oh, yep yep! I was just playin' for time anyhoo" she snickered and with barely any hesitation, reached down with a thumb and forefinger, pumping vigorously. With a final roar, Mehrunes Dagon, pent up over his existance as a Destroyer, exploded over Katia's smug face.

"Whew, that'sa load an' a half!" She licked her lips before casually throwing the much smaller being behind her. "Be right back, stud". She crawled over to the prostrate Argonian.

"Hey Quilly, did you see what-" she cut herself off; grinning, dripping face sunk. "Q-Quill-Weave?" Tears were forming.

"I can save her, but you need to slowly pull the axe from her while I heal her. Emphasis on slowly, too much and....look, just take it easy" Raminus said, placing a hand on Quill-Weave's side, awaiting the Khajiit to do her part.

Katia sobbed, and did as she was told. She gingerly gripped the shaft of the axe, and placed a gentle hand on her back.

"Okay, start" The mage said. He hoped and prayed that the size disparity at this point, a hundred foot Quill-Weave, the Khajiiti woman was over double that, she should be able to get the blade out easily regardless how slowly and hopefully in a single, smooth motion, despite the obvious inebriation. Sure enough, despite her swaying sitting position, Katia made the slowest of motions, the small hand-axe at best to her size slowly coming free.

Raminus immediately weighed in with the strongest healing spell he knew, a white glint shining over Quill-Weave's body and the wound closing gradually from the inside out. Raminus was becoming enthralled at how magic seemed to translate to size so effortlessly. Were the fate of Tamriel not at stake here he'd be more excited, not to mention the fate of their...peculiar saviors.

"Alright, pull it free" He shouted up at the looming yellow furred woman, who complied, yanking the blackened metal axe out at last as the wound sealed.

"She'll likely be out for a while" He said, nodding and hoping he'd done enough. She was breathing, that was the most important thing.

Katia heaved a few more sobs before a scowl returned to her 'glazed' face, the strands pulling apart as she edged taller with each passing moment. Without a word, she stumbled to her feet and turned around, looking at the crumbled wall and no doubt after Mehrunes Dagon. He was stumbling back towards the Oblivion gate he emerged from.

Frustration should have ruled his thoughts, but an elation was instead the order of the day. Mehrunes Dagon would return when his mind was back on task. A bitter repeat on opposing terms snapped his attention more local though, as his own axe clanged into the wall and down to the floor, thrown from a high angle. Like the Argonion prior, he attempted to climb the wall back to his gate, only for the axe to seemingly move by itself, and bash across his head, the blades cutting him but the blade mostly smacked about, enough to knock him on his exposed ass.

He scrambled to his feet, but his escape was hindered further as the ground shook under him, stopping Dagon in his tracks. He turned once more to an even bigger problem than last time, and judging by her expression, cruel and unusual things were afoot.

"I'mma change what I said from earlier. I gave and took ya, now you're-a-gonna pay me back for hurtin' my friend! Lessgo somewhere private" Her demands fell on panicked and desperate ears as Dagon flung a vast ball of raw destructive power at the Khajiit, and slumped slightly as the power simply merged with her. She then countered.

She swung her arm low and backhanded the increasingly small Daedric Prince, who pounded through the outer city walls; walls he was as tall as, now only up to her knee.

Bloodied, battered and recovering slowly but far too much so for it to matter, Dagon tried to get to his feet but to no avail, before he felt a pair of hands encapsulate him, and after shaking the city by dropping her monstrously sized ass on a nearby embankment overlooking the city proper, plucked his clawed gauntlet off with a pinch here, his shoulder garments with another there, and with a shuddering growth spurt, looked at him with bright yellow eyes from between her legs.

"In ya go!"

Then, Mehrunes Dagon knew only darkness, head embedded within fleshy walls slowly growing looser around him as he struggled to free himself, before after a few more moments, he was shoved to his shoulders, then only by grace of her continued grip on his legs, as he was used as the worlds largest sex toy.

Overlooking the scene, far enough to escape notice, a pair watched proceedings, seemingly unashamed of the spectacle.

"You asshole, you cheated. You wouldn't have won overall if you hadn't convinced me to give you my brew as an early prize!" A hooded man said, arms crossed in a huff.

"Oh, cheer up, Sammy. I've won twice now, and I could and should ask for double the spoils, but I'm a fair sport. I take it you remember our wager in full?" Spoke a two-tone dressed man.

"Fine, but I get to pick WHEN and WHERE I do my part. I don't think there'll be anything especially fun coming out of this anyway, probably be a few centuries before I make my move. I still say this is a really literal interpretation of that Khajiit being-"

"'Nirns Biggest Whore'? If only you'd said about numbers and not interpretation; methinks you need a wordier vexatiousness and a more concise loquaciousness! Still, I suppose it would be a trifle unfair to leave things as is"

"No kidding, you mad coot. This is pretty entertaining though- oh, there she goes...wow, look at her gush, it's like a geyser! Ah, but yeah we should probably suggest a solution to that spell."

"Hmm, I could go for some of that right now" The madman licked his lips

"Uh...what? You're not going to follow in Dagon's footsteps, are y-"

"Ew, no! Disgusting! I was talking about trifle! You're a sick, man, Sanguine. I dust my hands of this and leave you to your labour! Fare-not-so-well, you freak... Haskill! Prepare a bath! I've been sullied!" he shuddered, and with a flurry of butterflies, faded. The hooded man pulled his hood clear of his dark skinned, red-patterned face, rubbing his horns.

"Fucking brilliant, stuck here for now....well, better get to it. All work and no play for now I guess" He sighed, watching as the broken body of Mehrunes Dagon slid aloft a patch of fluid into the water of the lake, before he sprouted white steam-like gouts as his body combusted, sending waves around his now missing form. The absolutely massive Khajiit, easily over five hundred feet tall, collapsed back, feet paddling in the lake as well, breathing slowing from an equally large climax before finally settling into a rumbling snore.

"Nirn folk sure do know how to have fun. Maybe it won't be so bad after all, but I'll need someone important to make it really fun...wonder when the next prophecy'll come around" He said, before vanishing in a flutter of rose petals.

9: Epilogue

One week later;

A high elven man, clad in fine robes, had a sunken eyed look. He stood in a fine stone office, clearly an orderly fellow although at present, a vast swathe of freshly written scrolls lay about, blocks in place to keep them open, as well as some makeshift ones due to the enormity of the writings he had to consider; a cup here pinned a scroll with a long list of numbers in septims, another here an actual bounty notice, held open by an Imperial Dictionary.

High Chancellor Ocato slowly ran his hands over his brow and temples. The reports, accounting all the damage inflicted on not only the Imperial City, but also accounts from Kvatch, Anvil and thankfully lesser reports from the other towns and cities were an ordeal, and that was one thing, a number of murders, assaults, destruction of property with obvious blame and a pair in captivity to hold accountable; on the other hand, a pair being housed, fed and cared for having been afflicted with an ancient cursed spell, a temporary loss of self, who went on to save so many more than those innocents slain.

A picture was being painted of the events beginning nine days ago, and it wasn't a pleasant one; Lost spells, the pages of which went missing not long after the Arcane University had discerned the nature of the spell cast, only a peculiar rose scented page left in its place with a very clear instruction to drain magicka from the afflicted beyond their usual reserves. It worked, gradually dwindling their heights down over the course of the first three days. Thankfully the suggestion seemed harmless from the outset, otherwise an attempt wouldn't have happened.

As it was, Ocato looked out of his office window at the tent outside. It was a huge pavilion tent, housing a Khajiit and an Argonian. It was the equivalent of a standard pair of tents with no dividing wall for them. He had been told the 'cure' worked, although permanent effects were still evident. The Argonian was a little taller than the tribal Giants from Skyrim, a head or so taller at fourteen feet tall. The Khajiit was a full twenty, and if her magicka was replenished to full, she could grow steadily and constantly, but they ended that experiment after ten minutes or so when she crested fifty feet, not to mention the rate increased if more magicka was given to her.

Raminus Polus had done some fairly extensive tests with the pair. Gauging from what he'd uncovered, the Khajiit, Katia, had cast a spell on herself, later casting it imperfectly on the Argonian, Quill-Weave. Also, despite the fact Katia was generating her own magicka, she was apparently born under the atronach sign, hence her absorption abilities. As it stood, they had fashioned her a simple cursed necklace that stunted her magicka pool by a measly percentage, meaning she could access her spells but stopped her from growing. Raminus had gladly been keeping both of them entertained by training them, as payment for his tests. Even the un-magically inclined Quill-Weave was determined to learn the bow conjuration spell.

So, between that and the whole mind warping aspect now being under control, as well as the pair being compliant to the Imperial Legion's questions and remaining at the White-Gold Tower in custody, they had time to mull over the decision as to what to do. Their crimes under all other circumstances would have resulted in execution, or at least one execution; Katia had accepted all blame and pleaded, weeping, to let Quill-Weave go, but the Argonian also refused to abandon Katia; either way, a solution was fleeting.

Anvil called for both their blood and heads. The Imperial City's citizens were still throwing parties in celebration, stories told of the unusual means the Khajiit had used to defeat a literal Daedric Prince were all the rage. Raminus had given Ocato an absolutely glowing report of Quill-Weave's bravery and their collusion to distract the otherworldly threat while the Arcane University enacted a plan that allowed Katia to slay Mehrunes Dagon.

"Gallius?" Ocato called out; a Legionary entered his office.

"Yes, High Chancellor Ocato??"

"Spread the word, I will be making a public speech tomorrow at noon concerning Katia Managan and Quill-Weave"

"It shall be so" The Legionary saluted and walked out.

"I'll be glad to have this done with so we can see about this...Martin fellow the Blades have in their care...and the prisoner who found him." Ocato poured himself a cup of wine, up to the brim, and gulped it down rapidly, and poured another.

That was just one decision of some fifty he had to consider by days end, and the morning was almost over already.

Below, an hour later, Katia returned to her lodgings, seeing Quill-Weave exercising, shifting from sit ups to push ups, although she stopped after a few, grunting and massaging her left shoulder. The basic motions were the most she could do, usually able to freely roam and becoming increasingly stir-crazy being stuck in the Palace grounds.

"Hey, Quill. You're up" The Khajiit sat on a vast pile of old cloaks and robes, as close as she could make to a chair and bed. Quill-Weave stood and sighed. She adjusted her crude jerkin and shorts, tail-hole present, and couldn't help but wish they'd at least picked different colours, as both herself and Katia were clad in the same outfit, coloured beige (or so Quill-Weave had been told). Stained sails from a ship weren't exactly the best clothing options, but at least between fur and scale they weren't itchy, and most of the best fabrics were being rationed around to provide bedding and the like for the numerous folk whos homes had been burned down, or incidently crushed by the Three Giants debacle, as it was being called.

"I get they're trying to help, but these counselling sessions don't really ring home when I don't actually remember eating people. That and frankly after throwing up the first few times, I can't think of anything else I can really cover, it just makes me feel guilty and notably 'thirsty'. Do you have any idea how much I'll have to drink to get a buzz now?" The Argonian looked at the sky, appreciating another fine day.

"We did agree to do everything offered" Katia said, lapping a bowl, a bathing basin, thirstily.

"Uh huh...you're awfully chipper; good session then?"

"Basalor's real good at justifying it; 'The Green Pact can work for all; Their sacrifice to your wellbeing allowed you to save so many more. Consuming another isn't evil in the eyes of Y'ffre as you defended yourselves and they would have been left to rot otherwise.'. I mean, I don't remember doing it either, but it's really interesting at least." She held a piece of paper, an unprinted poster still comically small in her hand, with some out of session reading.

"Ugh, fine...sooner we get freed the better" She stomped off, narrowly avoiding kneeing a Legionary, who staggered aside and couldn't help but gawp up at the huge woman walking by. He eventually entered the tent, holding an officially bound and sealed scroll.

"Um...Ms. Managan? It hasn't been officially announced yet, but I've been sent by The High Chancellor with a judgement and a course of action." He approached and handed the paper to Katia, who used her clawtips to pull the binding and fumbled in opening the page. She blinked, squinted a bit, then handed it back.

"Sorry, mister, but I think I'll get eye-strain trying to read this. Could you read it, please?" Katia sat to attention, as the Imperial Soldier cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

The Following Noon;

"Citizens of the Imperial City and honoured visitors! We have come to a conclusion to the Oblivion Crisis that we feel is both fair and decent to all parties involved!" Ocato bellowed out to the crowd gathered, important dignitaries lined chairs at the front, and a rabble murmering in the back, mostly hushed, although many eyes were on the vast pair of beast-folk sitting beside Ocato's podium.

"We understand the concerns brought to us by Countess Umbranox, that the two citizens before you here, beside me, were indeed the individuals who took the lives of a number of citizens of Anvil's mages guild, as well as the city watch. So too, are they guilty of property destruction, causing unrest and sowing fear. However!" Ocato lifted a freshly bound book. "What I hold here will be circulated through numerous channels; taverns, news sheet publicists and other social gathering locations across the Empire. This book is a full report, written by our most trusted, top ranking members of our Arcane University, that the two before you" He gestured to Katia and Quill-Weave who looked naturally uncomfortable being a discussion point with so many people present. "were victims of magical misadventure"

Ocato took a deep breath, and a sip of water.

"Therefore, by the trust and power vested in me by the Empire and its Throne, New Emperor pending, I shall induct both Katia..uh..F. Managan and Quill-Weave into Imperial service, for three years and a year respectively. Ms. Managan has agreed to be put to task in bringing building materials to Anvil for the reconstruction project while being housed in Cheydinhal under supervision of its Mage Guild and City Guard, both of them shall be briefed on managing her 'condition'."

"As for Quill-Weave, She has also agreed to be put to work guarding the roads, under supervision of the Legion. We are told there are still remnants of the so-called Mythic Dawn exist, and as such, these two citizens will be applied in putting a stop to any further actions of this malicious cult."

Countess Umbranox stared daggers at the Khajiit especially, who actively avoided her glare with a clear show of discomfort and fear on her face, hoping to find a way to escape but Quill placed a firm hand on Katia's forearm and gave her a reassuring stare.

"Relax, it's almost over, and hopefully you won't have to see Anvil proper ever again....shit, even I don't want to go back. You're just going to drop off trees and such to the builders camp they're setting up.

"Old habits I guess....sure they're less of a threat, I guess, but still" Katia took a few deep breaths and focused on the fine carpet they'd layered the stone with for the event.

"Although I'm going to miss living with you" the Khajiit looked back at the Argonian.

"I mean, it's a new calling, and we'll have our duties, but we'll meet again, I'm sure. I know it's not been your usual friendship and all, but still, you keep things interesting" Quill-Weave gave a low chuckle.

Ocato answered a few questions, mostly reiterating what had already been covered and a few topics about rebuilding. The pair let the words pass by and reflected on. They dare not say anything anyway, not the least of the fact neither were exactly public speakers.

Katia had slowly moved a little, her thoughts went back to the fact that, while it was easy to justify many of her actions to the magic involved, one thing stood out, and that's the fact she'd gone on a drunken sex-rampage once more. She just hoped the work she was being given would give her a good opportunity to get back on the proverbial wagon. The concern left her placing a hand over Quill-Weave's, who'd kept her hands position on Katia's forearm.

Quill-Weave was snapped from her own thoughts, and looked at the large furred hand on her scaled own. She frowned slightly in mild confusion. Her eyes flashed purple, scanning the crowd to ensure her unique vision ability still worked. A few purple highlighted folks were in the crowd, her 'sense' still worked fine.

She looked at the hand on hers, and briefly saw purple. Quill-Weave blinked a few times, grey again.

Quill-Weave sighed, and turned off her extra sense.

The talk concluded, and the crowd mostly intermingled to discuss the topic, while Ocato, half the Legionaries, and both the new Imperial inductees were lead back to their tent. Things moved swiftly, brief meetings and talks occuring, discussing training and such. It was all written down for them regardless, but at least they weren't going to be executed or thrown to the wolves; they had a life to follow, and the future was bright.

Unfortunately, as Katia stood, wet eyed and looking despondant, she was due to leave by sundown with a night patrol heading east to Cheydinhal, and Quill-Weave had a couple more days before she was going to start patrolling the southern roads, the higher ups figured an Argonian presence would bolster the civilians of the swampish regions of Leyawiin. She wasn't sure being put up as a piece of racial eye-candy was her thing, although she was assured she would received a full outfit befitting a Legionary.

Still, the time had come to say farewell. The pair stood at the exit to the city, bridge still damaged so Katia would be wading in the river while her escort, who were thankfully fairly appreciative folk concerning the Three Giants situation, weren't too stringent on keeping her on a leesh.

"I guess I'll see you again at some point; maybe set a route on the Weald way road so maybe I'll have a chance to meet up?" Katia sounded beside herself. A flush of an old feeling ran through Quill-Weave, a lingering sensation when she was enchanted, it almost pushed her to say something far more on the nose, but all things considered, the Argonian technically had sent a letter to her partner back from her normal life, and was waiting for a response; she prayed that her lover was still interested despite what had happened.

"Tell you what, once I've done my year, I promise I'll move in with YOU this time in Cheydinhal. I'm sure wherever they get you sleeping there will have room for one more, right?" She wanted to gauge Katia's reaction, but was met instead with an overpowering hug. A fondle against Quill-Weave's tail made her re-check her extra sense, only to be awash with purple, which faded to and from the larger Khajiit, it settled as a faded tint.

"Yes, you've gotta! I insist, I'm going to have the BEST house, with a big bed so things don't get so awkward and a garden and everything'll be great!" Katia lifted Quill-Weave, continuing to hug, before realising the Legionaries were looking sheepishly away.

"Until then, I suppose. Although maybe try for two beds, hm?" Quill-Weave said after finally escaping the deathgrip. Katia sniffled a little, but managed a smile.

At last, the two split up.

"That Khajiit'll be the death of me, I swear" Quill-Weave shook her head, and walked back into the city proper, clearing her throat and trying her utmost not to let any excess moisture escape her eyes. If nothing else, she needed the year distraction and half dreaded, half looked forward to seeing the chaotic world Katia brought with her again.

Only time would tell.

The end.