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"What a nice breakfast that was!" Sworddog said the next morning after they'd risen with the miners.

"Indeed! I don't know what spice they put in that sausage, but it was_excellent_!" Lydia agreed.

"Absolutely excellent," Slutcat agreed, smacking her lips. "Though really Lydia, I don't think it was necessary to do that fellatio imitation on that sausage. That's a little overkill."

"Oh? You think so? I was just putting on a show for them."

"I think that guy beside you burst his underwear!"

Sworddog spoke up then. "Not him, but my nose doesn't lie about such things. Annekke was quite turned on."

"Really?" both the bipeds laughed.

"She seemed such a straightlaced, stalwart type too," Slutcat said.

"Well, it does explain why she didn't put up a fuss at our 'armor'."

"And why she stayed up all night 'guarding' over us while we..."

"Ah! It all comes clear now."

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The three continued up the trail, content now with food, the day, and life in general. Even Sworddog was as happy as Slutcat had ever seen her.

Slutcat began to sing a bawdy song she'd learned and the other two joined in as they walked, even if the actions were quite impossible for Sworddog. But even she could appreciate the humor.

It was approaching midmorning when they came upon a fortress, and Slutcat stopped at a nearby bridge to rest a bit.

"Awful quiet for this time of day," Lydia pointed out. "Unusually. That's Fort Amol. Last I heard it was held by the Stormcloaks. But they'd be up and around by now. You want to skirt around it?"

"Stormcloaks eh? My friend Ralof was a Stormcloak. No, let's see what's going on. Maybe he's there."

"Slutcat, there are_lots_ of Stormcloaks. The odds aren't good."

"Well, they treated me better than the Imperials have so far. Come on. We won't go in. Just see what's going on.

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As they approached the Fort, no sounds were heard within so they headed towards the gate. But then Sworddog smelled something.

"Death," she said quietly. "There are bodies beyond that wall."

Slutcat looked at Lydia, who nodded back towards the trail, but she shook her head and prepped her Sparks why Lydia slid her sword out.

As they approached the gate, they saw a body in Stormcloak armor laying just outside the gate. The gate was open, but within another body could be seen. Charred.

"Dark mage," whispered Lydia, "at least one, but they rarely are alone."

"Halt!" suddenly came a voice from the wall over the gate. "That's far enough!"

A head came into view. Dark elf. And by the robe, it appeared Lydia was right. A mage.

Slutcat stopped and thought about going back, but the helmeted body by the gate bothered her. His shoulders had been strong and wide, just like Ralof's. She got an idea.

"No problem mage! No problem! We're just scavenging. Mind if we loot that body over there? We won't go inside."

"Mmmm," the dark elf mused. "Well... you're surely not warriors dressed like that. I suppose. But if you step one foot within the gate, you will die. Understand?"

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"S... sure! Thanks!"

"Go ahead. Take his clothes. You obviously need them badly."

Slutcat approached the body. However, as she knelt beside it, she could see through the helmet that it wasn't Ralof.

"What do you think?" Sworddog asked quietly.

"Lydia, this isn't Ralof. But it could have been. I don't give a fart about this whole Stormcloaks vs Imperials business. It's not my fight. But this mage... or_these_ people if there are more, they killed a friend of my friend. Do you think we can take them?"

Lydia eyed the mage peering over the wall.

"Definitely," she smiled.

"Sworddog?"

"Let me at 'em," she replied, growling.

"In that case..."

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The three ran through the gate, Slutcat first with her sparks flying as she backed into the courtyard within, focusing her magic on the mage overhead. The fireball at his hands was unmistakable but she just ran to the side and up some stairs, all the while continuing to lay into him with the sparks.

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A second mage hit her from behind just as the first one went down. She spun to face him but Sworddog was already on him as soon as he'd stepped out from behind a wall. Slutcat never had time to cast another spell as Lydia finished him off. Slutcat looked over the corpse for useful items, finding a healing potion.

"There'll be more inside. Is this enough or do you want to really clean house?"

"Just call me the Lusty Khajiit Maid!" she cried, blood fever and adrenaline pumping through her now and they entered a nearby doorway.

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Within, they killed everyone the met, even a more powerful mage. The combination of Sworddog running in to distract, Slutcat using her ranged Sparks spell to begin wearing them down while they focused on the fast canine, and then an old-fashioned sword wielded by a sword-maiden of no light talent, proved unstoppable for a pack of surprised dark mages.

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Finally Slutcat found herself on a high platform at the top of the fortress, facing off against the most powerful mage yet. She ignored the magic-draining cold of his Frost spell, however, and used all she had in a simple, two-handed beam of power to test whose magic would hold out longest. She heard Sworddog barking as she came up behind her, but she called her back.

"No! No Sworddog. I've got this._ I've got this bastard _!"

The confident look on the mage's face began to fade as she steadfastly refused to go down, her magic reserves apparently much greater than he expected. He began to falter. She just advanced upon him, feeling the energy leaving her body but knowing it was slamming into her enemy. She could almost see his health bar draining steadily, steadily. She certainly felt his frost spell. This was not like up at High Hrothgar, but she refused to acknowledge it and kept advancing to where he stood within a circle of candles, the dead body of a Stormguard nearby.

He began to scream his rage, but she didn't hesitate. She kept coming, step by inexorible step.

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And then it was over. He fell to his knees, his frost spell sputtering out. But Slutcat did not stop. She stood over him and emptied the last of her power directly at his head. And then he was dead.

And she collapsed.

"Slutcat!" cried Sworddog with Lydia right behind her.

"Slutcat, you're a fool for not letting us help!" Lydia said, but Slutcat was already recovering as she downed a bottle of Healing.

"She..." Slutcat said, indicating the Stormcloak.

"Huh?"

Slutcat rose and stepped to the body of the soldier and removed her helmet.

"She demanded it. You won't understand. But she helped me, somehow. Gave me reserves. Lady, whoever you were, you are avenged."

Sworddog looked to Lydia.

"Could be. The recently dead... Who's to say where they are and what they're capable of?"

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The three climbed down from the walls and left the fort.

"Should we do anything for them?" Lydia asked as they passed the body outside.

"There's nothing to be done for them. They aren't here. This is just meat," Slutcat said.

"Still. It's important meat. To someone."

"Yeah. It is. Or it was. I forget what a violent place this is sometimes. But we've got things to do."

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"On to the horn?" Lydia asked.

"To the Horn!" Slutcat cried, raising a fist in mock jubilation.

Sworddog picked up on it. Sometimes mock bravery was just as good as the real thing. Sometimes it WAS the real thing.

"Three Bad-Ass Bitches!" Sworddog declared.

"That's right!" Lydia agreed.

"Three Bad-Ass Bitches!" Slutcat laughed. "Wait... hold on a second..."

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"What?" Lydia asked.

"I know what she's up to," Sworddog smiled in her doggie way. "Where do you want me, Slutcat?"

"Right in the middle. Now Lydia, you stand over there..."

"Er... okay..."

"Now, spread your legs apart."

"Wait, is this some sex thing?" Lydia asked.

"Go on, just do it. Oh, pull your sword out too. It's bad-ass-er."

"Like this?"

"Perfect."

"Now what..."

"Give a mean angry face and just stand there for one... two... three..."

| BAD ASS BITCHES |