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| Meanwhile, in a castle near Whiterun, a dark form sits upon a dark throne.

"What news, minion?"

A sinuous voice, siblant and reptilian echoed in the empty hall, "Your dessire hass been fulfilled, my misstressss.

"Oh? And which desire is that?" | |

| "Tonight you sshall dine on beef and potatosss."

"...and salad? You didn't forget the salad did you?"

"Never. With extra tomatoess and cucumberss, just like you assked."

"And the blue cheese dressing?" | |

| The scaled creature winced, as if struck a blow and knelt even lower in humiliation.

"Damn. I forgot the dressssing. We have Italian," the Argonian replied hopefully.

"Oh, alright. But you know I really like blue cheese, Red. Now get up and stop talking that way. It's stupid." | |

| "Yess, my misstressss..."

"RED!"

"Okay, okay. It just seems appropriate here." | |

| "I guess maybe buying a castle was a little... excessive."

"You think?" | |

| "So what's your plan to find this last assassin, Sampson?"

"Hmm... We must inquire of the local pheasantry, noble cat. Perhaps they have knowledge of this Tails." | |

| "Pheasantry can't talk, m'lord," sighed Devilah. "You mean peasantry."

"My god! Have they had their tongues ripped out? Such evil lurks in this land! We must be getting close!"

The Khajiit slapped her hands over her face and drew them down slowly. "Yes, mighty one. We must be." | |