Despite our several stays within the city, neither Viconia or I had been anywhere near the castle. It was unlike many of the other Cyrodiilic cities which had their castles built directly into the city. Instead Castle Skingrad was located externally and not connected to the curtain walls in any way. Built within an easy pilum throw from the south walls, it was easily as defensible as Glenvar, if not more so. A tower of stone rose out of the ground and on this spire the castle had been built. The base of the walls were fifteen metres from the ground, and the stone spire itself was even more solid than the walls themselves.

  It was completely unassailable from the ground, and the only way to reach the Castle was through the City itself and across a single stone bridge from the city to the Castle Gatehouse. Even sappers would struggle to make any progress against such an obstacle as it appeared to be solid granite, weathered, worn and yet reinforced in places.

  The two Men-at-Arms guarding the Castle Gatehouse stiffened to attention as I approached, crossing their halberds to deny me access until I could prove that I was there for more than just taking in the sights. I simply showed the closest guard my invitation scroll, signed by the Count's Steward and while he studied it carefully for any trace of forgery I studied him. Most of the Skingrad guards and soldiers were tough, highly trained individuals who held onto their weapons like veterans. Their maroon surcoats were clasped tightly around their waists over their steel chainmail, bearing the heraldic mark of County Skingrad; a stylised image of two crescent moons facing each other on a black background, one large and red, and the other small and white.

  Satisfied with the legitimacy of my invitation they pulled their halberds apart once more, motioning inside the gatehouse to the tiny courtyard. I couldn't help but notice the defences as I entered, looking at the dozens of murder holes and arrow slits that would allow only a small force of archers to hold off an entire army. Glenvar and Cloud Ruler could have gained a few improvements by studying Castle Skingrad. But there was little else that caught my eye as there was no detail other than the handful of guards and the massive banners bearing the Count's heraldry hanging from either side of keep's entrance. It was with a strange sense of trepidation that I walked between the next pair of guards within the open castle doors, and inside the keep itself where a cool perfumed air greeted me into the home of one of Cyrodiil's most powerful men.

  The interior of the Castle hall was smaller than the others that I had seen, but it was designed and laid out more as a home than a greeting hall for the public. A fire could be seen in the far end, tended by one or more of the castle servants as they scurried around on their individual errands and there was a comforting feel to the entire castle as though it was a home first, and a fortress second. Rugs lined the floors, and a handful of tapestries hung from the walls but there was no obvious show of wealth and power. There were no trophies, only two banners hung from the walls either side of the massive staircase leading into the private quarters proclaiming the castle's allegiance and no other works of art.

  "Good day Sir Desin." Said one of the several servants in the hall, and I gave a slight bow to the well-dressed Argonian.

  "Steward."

  "Your invitation please."

  Obviously not one for ceremony or wasting time, she took the scroll from my hand, gave it a quick glance and provided me an approximation of a smile that was all fangs and scales. I had limited dealings with Argonians within the Legion and in Northern Morrowind, but enough that dealing with a six-foot-tall lizard dressed in a traditional Colovian dress didn't faze me in the slightest. I was more uneasy at the fact that she was arguably one of the most powerful individuals within Cyrodiil, and that I was expecting to meet her lord very shortly.

  Holding the scroll in her clawed digits, she motioned for me to follow and we began making our way through the hall and up the staircase into the higher levels of the keep. The walls hemmed in close as every passage that I saw had been purposely built small and enclosed. There was only just enough space for three men to stand shoulder to shoulder, and the roof was only a few centimetres above my head as to hinder the use of any weapons that relied on swinging. Each of the doors that we passed were thick and unyielding and I knew that while any defenders were still breathing the castle would prove unconquerable.

  The further we moved into the castle though, the more we found ourselves surrounded by artworks and other priceless artefacts. Painting and tapestries depicting everything from great battles, forests, various mountain ranges such as the Jerals, the plains and deserts of Elsweyr hung from the walls. There were portraits of various men and mer, some I assumed were of the various Counts and rulers of Skingrad over the generations but there were far too many to be them exclusively.

  "Does your master normally receive visitors like this?" I asked Hal-Liurz as we continued, the oppressive silence wearing on my nerves until I couldn't stand it any long. It was dark within the passage and I realised that other than the few lanterns hung from the walls there were no windows or other sources of light in what I assumed was another defensive feature of the castle.

  "He rarely sees visitors at all." She replied, not even looking back as we neared the end of the hall. "The Count is a busy man, both with his studies and the running of the County."

  "He is a powerful wizard from what I have heard." Stopping briefly in front of a beautifully painted depiction of the port city of Rihad on Hammerfell's southern coast, I remembered the last time I had been to the city as a child and felt nostalgic for a moment. "It almost seems a shame having so many pieces of artwork kept here, and no one to look upon them."

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  "The Count is a collector of sorts." Hal-Liurz stopped just outside the last door in the hallway, one flanked by a small collection of chests fitted with locks. "Although, most of his collection is contained within the museums and galleries within the city itself. He's never been one for hording and prefers to have his collection available for viewing by the public. As for his study into the Arcane, the eastern tower is his own private laboratory and usually the only visitors he sees are high ranking members of the Mages Guild."

  With a single flowing movement, she motioned towards the door and the surrounding chests either side of it. "The dining room is just through this door, but I cannot permit you to bear arms within the Count's presence."

  I nodded, expecting the request despite not desiring to part with the blade. "Very well."

  "You will not need to worry," She said simply, watching me quickly unbuckle Sunchild before I handed it and the leather harness to her. "Your weapon will be quite safe. The locks can only be opened by one of three keys, one of which you will hold onto." With a loud click the chest locked, and she handed me the key. "The other two are held by myself and the Count."

  "Count Hassildor will be along shortly." Bowing courteously to me in the manner of a Colovian noblewoman she gestured to the door. "Please make yourself comfortable. I assure you that you will not have long to wait."

  As she held open the door, I stepped through and nodded my thanks, only glancing back as she quietly closed it behind me. the door itself, despite leading into a private dining room was over twenty centimetres thick and I would have been more surprised if all of the other doors weren't the same. The castle, while feeling more like a home than a fortress was extremely defensible.

  The dining room itself was splendid, but it was a far cry from being described as a hall. Rosethorn Hall's dining room was in fact larger than the Castle's, as was the table itself. It surprised me in many ways, and while the table was worth years of legionary's salary, there was only enough space for half a dozen people to sit at it at any one time.

  A pair of large silver candlesticks were surrounded with several small bowls of flowers and I walked around the table, looking over its polished mahogany surface and running my gloved fingers over the high backed chairs as I went. There were only two chairs in the room, but they had been obviously placed at both short ends of the table. Again I found myself wondering about what sort of man the Count was as both chairs were completely identical, neither one larger or more expensive appearing than the other.

  Silver plates and cutlery were arrayed before each table on immaculate silken cloths bearing the county's heraldry. Wine glasses were also set up and I was finding myself more and more uneasy with such a situation. I might have the riches and the property of a nobleman and the title of Knight to go along with it all, but only a week previously I had been wet to the elbows in blood gutting and hacking apart a deer for Viconia and I to eat during our journey to the city. I might dress, appear and have the title of Sir, but I certainly didn't fit in such an environment.

  Desperate for anything to take my mind off the situation, I moved toward the far end of the room from the door I entered, moving past another door set in the middle of the room where the smells of roasting food were emanating from. Obviously the kitchen, I guessed that the third door opposite it was the living quarters or otherwise private rooms for the Count. They didn't interest me though as my attention was drawn to the display cases and the trophies hanging from the walls.

  A pair of enormous stuffed heads were mounted near the corners of the room. The first was a massive black bear that I had never seen the size of before, and the second was obviously a minotaur titan. Scarred and ruined in combat, the taxidermist had obviously chosen not to replace both of the minotaur's eyes with glass ones as the blade wound had plucked an original from its skull in its dying moments. It was impressive, and suffering a lot less damage than the head Viconia and I had left at the village of Titan's End but I could also see that it was substantially smaller.

  Within the cabinets there was a breastplate made of polished ebony, a double bladed broadsword forged from malachite, and a shield made from what appeared to be a mithril-steel alloy. They were incredibly made, priceless but also broken in various ways. The breastplate had been punctured by something, creating a hole three fingers wide and two fingers tall only a few centimetres under the heart. Whatever had been successful in causing such damage, especially to a material such as ebony would have ensured that the wearer would've been introducing themselves to their ancestors very quickly. The sword was shattered into three sharp pieces, the nature of the volcanic glass ensuring that whoever had placed the pieces within the cabinet would have done so very carefully, or wear chainmail mittens to ensure that they didn't slice their fingers to the bone.

  The shield was surprisingly not as expensive or priceless, despite the obvious mithril within its make. It was simple, plain and almost entirely unadorned except for the county heraldry on its face. It was also a lot smaller than the legion tower shields, instead being a knight's heater shield designed for use on horseback. At some point it had received a blow that had cracked the metal and wood, threatening to split it in half and I somehow knew that whoever had been holding it had suffered a broken arm as a result.

  The painting in the middle of the all was what really caught my attention. While the trophies and heirlooms were impressive, the painting holding the place of honour in the room had been made by a true master. A man and woman, well into their fifties gazed off into the distance and were clothed in the finery of nobility. I assumed that the two individuals in question were the current count and countess, and I looked how the count stood tall in his black and burgundy outfit, a vest pulled tight across his chest, one hand resting on his wife's shoulder and the other tucked behind his back. The woman, dressed in a luminescent white dress with pearls threaded into her hair sat gracefully with a large Colovian mastiff at her feet, smiling as she appeared to be lightly scratching the dog between the ears.

  There was a serene feeling to the painting, the unknown artist somehow capturing the light hearted nature between the two of them instead of creating the usual portrait that seemed dry and soulless. The littlest of details sprung out to me, the way that the hand the count rested on his wife's shoulder was being held by one of her own, the tiny half smiles they wore in each other's presences and the overall sense of contentment that could be felt between the two of them.