Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to her to tell her gently. "No, thank you. I'm good. Listen, Moira... I think we should talk." Her long fingers trailed down his neck and shoulders, heading to the buttons of his vest as she purred to him. "We can talk as much as you want after." Goosebumps rose on Nate's arms, causing him to shiver before grabbing her wrists to stop her. Her skin felt paper thin beneath his fingers, but he knew personally how strong she was. Her fingers extended out a bit with worry, bringing the sharp tips closer to his throat then he was comfortable with. Taking a calm deep breath, he tried to keep his voice charming and sincere upon telling her. "Moira... You are a... a lovely woman. But I'm not worthy of you. You deserve someone who would treasure you above all other things... and I'm too in love with my music. I'm not ready to settle down... I'm sorry." Moira's feathers fell from their puffy state, her expression turning to a disheartened one. Nate released her wrists, watching her pull back from him a bit. Bringing her arms to hug her chest, she uttered out. "That's not what you said before..."

Nate shrugged a little, mumbling out. "I was also drunk before... So..." Moira climbed off him, starting to pace the cottage as she uttered out in distress. "No. Don't say that... You promised. You meant it. You swore. You gave me your heart and more!" Nate struggled to sit up in the nest, telling her lightly. "I say a lot of things... No one ever takes them seriously because-" Moira whirled to face him, snapping out angrily. "I DID! We made the trade!" Nate raised a hand, asking perplexed. "We what? What did I trade for?" Moira lifted her left hand to show him the gold ring encrusted with three rubies. The center ruby was in the shape of a large heart and the ones on either side of it were in perfect circular shape. Moira lowered her hand to point at a pile of long well-groomed feathers, telling him softly. "You gave me the ring and I pulled out four feathers for you. That way we both would carry the love of the other with us." Looking at the feathers, Nate rummaged in his pocket to remove the list the woman in the Dibella temple gave him. Flipping it open, he read the ingredients on it. Seeing Hagraven feathers on the list, he let out a heavy sigh. It suddenly made sense. It pained him more to know that he might have used her.

Folding the paper back up to stuff back in his pocket, he asked her curiously. "Was there a man named Sam with me?" Moira tilted her head like a bird, before she replied a bit tensely. "Yes. He was showing you how to work a staff... by aiming it at me. You stopped him and I broke it. It was shortly after that you spoke to me and said such nice things... But I could not forgive your friend. So, I chased him off." Moira moved closer to the nest, leaning on it as she purred to him coolly. "You felt bad for him. Wanted to fix the staff. So, you told me that you were going to help him fix it and when it was over... We'd consummate our marriage. I took the feathers from your bag to make sure that you'd come back." Nate leaned away from Moira, swallowing with a growing unease. She reached out to stroke his cheek with the talon of her index finger, purring out lovingly. "Drunk or not... You're the first man to treat me like a woman since my transformation." Staring into her eyes, he mumbled out to her in a heartfelt voice. "I'm so sorry..." Tears brimmed her eyes, when she whispered. "I believe you." Bowing her head, she removed her hands from him. Hugging herself she stepped back, mumbling to herself. "I'm such a fool... I should have listened to my sister."

Moving to the fireplace, Moira crouched to watch the flames. Struggling to climb out of the nest, Nate stumbled and hit the floor with a loud 'THUD' behind her. She barely turned to look over her shoulder at him. Hopping back up onto his feet, he dusted the dirt off himself. With a heavy heart, Nate walked up beside her to sit next to her. Tossing another log on the fire for her, he told her sweetly. "You're not a fool. You have a good heart. You still believe in love. I hope you never lose it." Moira turned her head to look at him with fragile eyes, when she asked a bit strained. "You don't believe in love? After all the nice things you said?" Nate looked back at the fire to avoid her eyes, reluctantly telling her. "It's easy for me to pretend. I felt it once. I remember how good it felt... but I don't feel that way anymore with anyone. It's easier for me not to feel. To forget. I'm a half-breed. I'm just done trying to fight what I am." Moira raised an eyebrow, looking him over as she chuckled out. "You look normal to me." Nate smirked sadly, replying a bit grimly. "That's the problem. Everyone wants you until they know what you are... Hurts worse than people just staying away." Putting a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed it and told her. "I make it my job to make everyone around me happy... because otherwise... I've lost too much to care. And you don't deserve a man that feels nothing."

Moira lifted her hand to look at the ring, her hand shaking a bit. Then with a sigh, she held her hand out to him and said softly. "Take it." Nate took her hand gently, sliding the ring off her long finger. After it was off, Nate pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. Looking up to give her a smile, he pocketed the ring and got up to leave. He barely crossed the cabin, when she got up to tell him hopefully. "Nathan?" Nate stopped, turning to look back at her. Rubbing her arm a minute, she picked up the cluster of feathers to give to him. Giving him a warm smile, she told him warmly. "I hope one day that you do find your happiness." Taking the feathers, Nate gave her smile. He'd never told anyone that much about himself. It was too deep and personal. He didn't bother to share those parts of himself because... What was the point? He was a drifter. Opening the door of the cabin, Nate bumped into the painted broad chest of a tall and smelly figure. Nate's eyes rose up the body to see the figure was a young male Orc. The Orc was decorated in furs and feathers that he guessed meant he was a hunter in his tribe. On the Orc's back was a two handed Orcish made Battleaxe. Nate blinked, completely caught off guard by seeing the towering Orc here.

The Orc's eyes were closed tight, and he raised a handful of picked flowers with the roots still attached. Gulping loudly, the Orc rushed out nervously in a thick accent. "Hello. You don't know me. But I've seen you around and... I... I was wondering..." Nate looked back at Moira, who looked just as surprised as himself. Smirking at her, he turned to face the Orc and chuckled out. "I'm going to stop you there, Friend. I'm flattered. But I'm not a flowers kind of guy. Now, you bring me a nice bottle of Argonian Ale and we'll talk." The Orc's eyes opened to look at him with confusion that turned into anger. Grabbing Nate's shoulder, the Orc yanked him from the doorway and tossed him down the steps, yelling out. "Not you!" Nate yelped, tumbling down the steps and groaned as he fell flat across the dirt ground. Coughing, Nate started to push himself up, mumbling out. "Ya... I'm getting that a lot." The Orc stormed down the steps, unsheathing his battleaxe as he bellowed out. "See here, you drunken Bard! You leave Moira alone! I don't know what you're up to with your friend, but if you hurt her-!" Nate scrambled upright to scoot across the ground, when the Orc's eyes fell on something in his hand. Nate followed his eyes to the feathers in his hand and uttered out disheartened. "Oh shit... Man, listen. This isn't what you-"

The Orc let out a war cry, raising his battleaxe as he rushed after him. Rolling wildly to his right, Nate barely missed getting the Orc's battleaxe brought down on his shoulder. Rolling up to his knees, Nate raised his hands. His fingers sparked with a green light as he got ready to try paralyzing the Orc. Before he unleashed the spell though, Moira asked innocently from the top of the stairs. "These are for me?" Nate and the Orc froze, but the Orc looked back at her with a softer expression to answer embarrassed. "Yes... I saw you picking some earlier and thought... Do you like them? Need them?" Nate was terrified to move. Watching Moira sniff the pink mountain flowers, before asking the Orc lightly. "Are you hungry? Would you like to come in?" The Orc straightened up like he was eager to but pointed to Nate as he mumbled out. "Sure... but... He... Did he hurt you?" Moira rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a smirk as she told him. "No. Just business." The Orc relaxed, hefting his battleaxe up over his shoulder as he inched toward her. Nate waved to her, rushing from the fence before the Orc could change his mind.

Running up to Walter, Nate swung himself into the saddle and kicked Walter into a run. He felt extremely lucky and couldn't wait to put an end to this crazy day. Stuffing the feathers into his bag, he rode Walter all the way back to Whiterun. By the time he got back to Whiterun, night was falling. Putting Walter in the stable, he jogged back through the gates and asked around to find Ysolda again. Hearing that she was in the Bannered Mare tavern, he jogged inside and waved her down by showing her the ring. She waved for him to follow her up the stairs of the tavern to her room and away from the loud group of people in the tavern. Panting heavily, he handed her the ring and asked her gruffly. "There. I got your ring. Please, tell me where Sam is?" Ysolda took the ring, telling him in a happy but slightly sad tone. "Excellent! I'm sorry that it didn't work out with you and your lady. I know how excited you were for the wedding... It's a shame." Nate nodded, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. Ysolda waved a hand to change the subject, curtly saying. "Anyway, as promised. Sam told you to meet him at Morvunskar. He said something about having a huge ceremony with lots of guests there. I'll admit, I was a bit upset that you didn't invite me... but doesn't matter now, huh?"

Nate groaned internally, glaring up at the ceiling before prying himself off the wall to head toward the door. Thanking her for the information, he made his way out. He was tired of racing around and hoped that this was the end of his goose chase. Despite it being dark out, Nate trudged down the steps of the tavern and swiped a bottle off a table and bread from another. A fight broke out between the Nords at the tables, but he didn't care. Prying the cord out of the bottle with his teeth, he spit the cork into the grass and took a swig as he made his way back to the stable. He rarely drank unless he was stressed out or a holiday gave him an excuse... but he was craving it. The small swig did nothing for him. So, he gulped down a bit more. The liquid tasted different on his tongue. Looking at the label, he coughed a little. His throat felt dry and the buzz that he'd normally get just wasn't happening. Drinking more, he tried to ignore it. He was having a strange day and it was affecting his judgment now. Walter hacked as he saw the bottle, causing Nate to chuckle and state out. "Good. More for me." Slipping back onto Walter, he had him trot out to the road again. Eating the bread, Nate tested if it tasted different too. It didn't. The bread was fine and filling. It was just the drink that was funny. He'd drank the whole bottle and was surprised to feel only a light buzz.

Taking directions from the passing farmers, he made it to the stone ruins of Morvunskar by early morning. The place was creepy at night and appeared to be abandoned. It was common for bandits, Covens, and Cults to live in old ruins. Yet, this one had no one around. The place clearly used to be a small castle and one with magical properties. Nate could sense the power pulsing from within. Sliding off Walter, Nate guided Walter to a stable that had a single stall with fresh water and hay. Someone was expecting him, and he hoped it was Sam. Patting Walter's neck to calm him, Nate made his way silently inside. The wooden castle doors creaked and groaned when he opened them. The stone inside was covered in green moss and everywhere there was empty bottles of all kinds of Wines, Ales, and Meads. Nate raised an eyebrow when he noticed bits of clothing hanging on railings or by little beds in the corners. Clearing his throat, he softly uttered out to himself. "Sex cult...? Wouldn't be the worst thing today..." Venturing in a bit more, two braziers on either side of a stone stairway leading down suddenly came to life. Freezing to look around, he heard a soft voice whisper his name from the direction of the door at the bottom of the stairs.

Nate pointed a finger at the door, stating aloud. "See. I was interested until that. No offence. But I don't do the creepy thing. Sex cult. Sure. Ghosts can fuck right off." Nate turned on his heel to leave, when the door he came through locked and bolted itself. Nate raised a hand about to blast the wooden door off its hinges, when the voice whispered over his shoulder. "Don't be rude. Come. Stay for a drink. I know you're parched." Nate lowered his hand, slowly turning as he asked the dim castle. "Sam? What are you?" The voice chuckled, seeming to drift down the steps as it told him lightly. "Come and see. Don't be afraid, Nathan. I like you. I wanna be friends. And trust me... You want me as a friend." The door at the bottom of the steps creaked open, welcoming him down. Nate moved to the top of the steps, asking aloud. "You're not a big talking spider or snake, are you? Because that is about how my day is going." The voice laughed, then answered casually. "No. Come on. We're waiting for you." Taking a deep breath, Nate made his way down the steps slowly. Walking out along the foggy stone hallways, Nate flinched as candles came to life to lead him deeper in. The deeper he went the stronger he felt the powerful energy in the air.

Reaching a large stone room with high ceilings and thick support pillars, Nate slowed before a large set of stone stairs that lead up to what looked like a throne. Beside the throne on one side was a large treasure chest. Stepping over to it, Nate tapped it with his foot. When no traps went off, he flipped the lid open. He didn't really expect to find anything, but he did. Inside was some old gold coins and what appeared to be a ball sized white orb. Reaching in to touch it, Sam's voice stated out a little too late. "I really wouldn't touch that. She's a-" Picking the orb up, Nate winced and yelped as a female voice bellowed sternly into his ears. "A new hand touches the beacon. Listen! Hear me and obey! A foul darkness has seeped into my temple. A darkness that YOU WILL DESTROY. But first you must return my beacon to my figure above my temple on Mount Kilkreath. And I shall make you my instrument of cleansing light. GO NOW, Mortal!" Setting her beacon down, Nate rubbed his aching hungover temples. Beside him, Sam's softer male voice told him with a chuckle. "I tried to warn you. Just ignore her. I do. Although, if you take her from here, then I don't have to listen to her whining anymore." Nate reluctantly stuffed the beacon into his bag, climbing to his feet as he gruffly told the voice. "Where are you?"

In the darkened corner by the throne, a portal rippled into existence. Nate inched toward it as the voice told him. "I'm in my realm. Come inside. I've been waiting for you." Nate hesitated to walk through but could smell fresh food and wine in the air coming from it. He could even hear faint voices laughing and talking inside like a party was going on. Stepping inside, Nate shivered as the portal's energy tickled him. Inside, was a misty grove with small stone bridges and crystal trickling rivers of what appeared to be water... until he got closer and smelled the strong alcoholic smell coming from it. Lanterns lit up the way across the bridges through the thick misty grove. The place gave off the warmest welcome feeling that relaxed Nate almost instantly. He felt like there was nothing to fear here. Reaching an area surrounded in lanterns, Nate looked at the long wooden tables laden with food and drinks. People sat at the tables eating and drinking to their hearts content. Yet, the food kept appearing on the platters and the pitchers and barrels of alcohol kept refilling. Nate almost wanted to cry. It was beautiful. As Nate moved closer, he noticed a plush bloodred cluster of pillows at the far end of the party that had rose bushes accenting it like a chill throne.

Sam scooted off the pillow, snatching two goblets off a table made of thorny vines. The half-naked girls and guys chilling on the pillows with him, giggled and waved to Nate. Sam sauntered over to him, holding his arms out as he expressed loudly over the chatter. "You're here! I was beginning to think that you might not make it, Buddy!" Nate accepted the hug from Sam, taking the offered goblet of wine as he told him honestly. "Ya... It was quite a trip. Where are we exactly?" Sam clinked his goblet to his, then gestured around as he said proudly. "My friend, this is my realm of Debauchery. A place to be merry and enjoy the greatest pleasures life has to offer without judgement and worry." Nate raised an eyebrow, giving a small nod as the people here raised tankards and cheered to that. Taking a deep uneasy breath, Nate removed the list from his pocket, telling him reluctantly. "Ok. I don't know many wizards that can create portals to realms... but that aside. I have everything except for the holy bath water of Dibella to fix your staff." Sam dropped his arm from Nate's shoulder, grinning as he waved a hand and said openly. "Oh, that stuff. You can just throw those away. My staff is fine. I repaired it. Cause you see..." Sam bit his lip and took a step back.

Nate swallowed as Sam's body morphed and changed from human to something else. Sam grew in height to stand almost six feet tall with flawless grey skin. From his long soft looking black hair, a set of sleek curled darker grey horns grew out. His ears grew out longer than any elven ears and were pierced down the ridges with glittering silver rings. From one earlobe, hung a dangling earring of a ruby rose with an onyx jeweled stem and thorns. Across Sam's beautiful face were red markings that he thought was war paint but it was actually a part of his skin. Sam was slender and gorgeous. His cloth black pants hung off his slender hips, showing off his every perfect curve. He was shirtless, revealing his nicely muscled torso and a stunning tattoo down one arm. His tattoo was of a rose and the thorny vines spiraled around his arm down to his wrist. Nate's jaw dropped as he stared at him. He had no words to describe what a dark beauty he was. His perfect smile made Nate weak in the knees and Sam knew it. Sipping his drink, Sam extended a hand out to him and told him with a chuckle. "Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Sanguine Rose. The Daedric Prince of Revelry. And I haven't had so much fun in at least a hundred years! I'd say that's something worth celebrating. Don't you?" Nate took a swig from his own glass and then did a double take at it.

This was the same wine that he had been offered at the tavern. Unlike the alcohol before that he barely got any joy out of, this stuff immediately hit the spot and took his thirst away. Sanguine raised his goblet to him with another smile, merrily stating out. "Now that the Bard has arrived. We can really liven this place up. And I promise you. You'll remember it this time. Daedric Wine isn't easy for mortals to handle the first time... but once it goes down. You'll crave nothing else." To Be Continued...