Alterations

While Umnii was getting her frustrations out on the unfortunate Thalmor torturer, Michael went around the cells to see who else was imprisoned here... Most of them were Nords of course, some Orcs, some Imperials... He frees all of them and allows them to go their own way through the secret exit tunnel that was for some reason present.

Strangely though he encountered a quiet cell with a small exhausted Nord child cowering at the back of it... Was he scared of Michael or of the screams of the Thalmor torturer?

Regardless, he closes in on the cell and casts a Magelight spell to illuminate it, "Hey kid, you alive?"

...

"W-who are you?" he quietly responds in a weak voice.

"I'm Michael Tahlin, or as some people call me, Biggus-Dickus the eleventh... Not the eleventh of my name but... Ah, nevermind. You wouldn't get it." he shakes his head solemnly at the old lost joke of his original world, "What's your name?"

"F-Frothar..."

...

"Okay, Frothar, any idea why the Thalmor might've kidnapped you?" he asks, touching the cell bars and disintegrating them with his void runes.

"I-I don't know... M-maybe my family?... Maybe...?"

"And who's your family?"

...

"You're gonna need to tell me eventually if you ever wanna go home. Unless you wanna be my little butler for the rest of your life."

The child's face wrinkles at that, "I'm the son of Balgruuf, the Jarl of Whiterun."

...

"Oh..." Michael utters, surprised, but not too surprised considering everything that's happened. "That's something..."

"C-can you take me home now?... I just, want to go back..."

Michael nods, "Alright... Let's go before the elves start sounding the alarm." he says, picking the kid up in a piggyback and moving to a blood-covered Umnii.

The Thalmor had gone quiet during his talk with Frothar so, she'd probably finished by now... "You ready to go?" he asks, trying not to stare at the castrated torturer.

She nods, stabbing the knife into the man one final time and leaving it there, "Let's."

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*ZZshing!*

A World Gate opens up in Dragonreach's main hall, prompting all the guards to jump into action and await whatever was about to come through it... All of them had heard tales of the Oblivion Gates, so they were justifiably wary.

So they're surprised when Michael walks out with an injured blue-skinned girl at his side and a gaunt child on his back.

"See that Umnii, Frothar? We get the V.I.P treatment even when they don't know we're coming." he gestures to a nearby guard, I don't have a coat to give you, but some alcohol would be good right about now."

"Michael..." Balgruuf mutters while rubbing his forehead, only to then dart his head upwards at the mention of 'Frothar'. "Stand down men, this is Michael Tahlin!" he exclaims while making his way over, eyes locked onto the small arms wrapped around Michael's neck.

"Frothar?"

"F-father!" the boy tearfully exclaims, letting go of Michael and leaping into his father's embrace.

"My boy! I thought I lost you!" the Jarl cries out with joyful tears.

"Leave us." Irileth commands the guards, also sending a glare at the socially inept Farengar who slinks into his study.

...

Umnii smiles and holds Michael's arm as she watches the reunion, somehow taking satisfaction in it despite the horrors she'd only just gone through. "M-Maybe me getting kidnapped wasn't the worst thing...?"

Michael doesn't reply, letting her have this 'win' to tide her over.

After Balgruuf had confirmed his child's safety he hands the boy off to Irileth so Farengar to check his health, then looks to Michael, "My boy mentioned some things but, I'd like to hear it from you... It was the elves, the Thalmor, wasn't it?"

Michael nods, "Yeah. You don't look all that surprised though."

He tiredly shakes his head, "Michael, the only reason aligned myself with anyone in this war was because they were threatening me with my son. Not long after Ulfric killed the High King I received a letter threatening to kill my boy if I didn't do as they say... Who they were was never mentioned, but only a view could benefit from this..."

"What'll you do now then? You've got Imperial soldiers marching up and down Whiterun like they own the place. I'm honestly surprised they didn't try kill the Dragonborn when they had the chance."

Balgruuf darkly looks at the floor, "Don't worry about that, my friend. The Thalmor and Imperials will pay for what they've done. I won't play party to their southerner schemes and politics. This is the last straw."

Michael nods and pats the man on the shoulder, "Well, I wish you luck then. Me and Umnii will be on our way... Try not to get knifed by some Knife-ear in the meantime." he jokes.

"Aye, I thank you again, Michael... Though, I wish you'd just ask for something and stop putting me in your debt... There's only so much I can give. Unless you want Whiterun? Because you're getting close to it." he japes and waves them off as he goes to attend to his son.

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The day after Michael had returned Umnii to Ennura and Irarus, he made his way to the prison of hi Spire and sat across from the cell that held Keo Ulpiel, the owner of the Gambling House that owned the gold statue of Clavicus Vile.

"So, ready to tell me what I wanna know?" he asks. The Orc had been locked here for long enough, fed the absolute minimum, shittiest food he could find. Not to mention, he'd had Rubick help him create some wards that'd occasionally turn the cell either uncomfortably hot, to a chilling cold... The Orc would find no solace until Michael granted him death.

"I said I would talk after you destroyed my business! I'll tell you everything now if you just let me go! No torture needed!" Keo exclaims while gripping the bars, desperately pleading his case.