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Quan Chi continued north after ditching Ralof. He encountered many wolves which he burned to a crisp with his flame spell. Near Whiterun, he came across a small bandit den. The bandits were no match for Quan Chi as he killed them and looted their armor and weapons and stole a nearby carriage horse and carried on towards the mountains. The snow was getting dense and vision became unclear. Suddenly, he found himself falling. His horse hit the ground hard and collapsed, sending Quan Chi tumbling down the side of the mountain. Suprised to find himself alive, he mustered enough strength to arise. He had just barely survived the drop. After healing his wounds with a spell, he noticed a snowy fort in the distance and made his way towards it. Once Quan Chi approached the stone walls of the fort, he heard faint shouting from within. It sounded like the current occupants didn't take kindly to visitors and it wasn't long until Quan Chi heard arrows whizzing by his head. He quickly took cover, but one of the bandits was coming at him with an axe. Quan Chi gave him a taste of elemental fire, and the bandit fell. Quan Chi unsheathed his blades and charged at the other bandits. He dodged their arrows rather skillfully, and slashed them all to pieces. He relieved the corpses of their valubles and cautiously entered the door on the upper level. Once inside, he heard some muttering coming from the other room, and swiftly ducked down and moved slowly to avoid detection, but Quan Chi was no stealthy assassin, and the voice in the other room quickly became aware of a presence and Quan Chi heard something that sounded like a very large weapon being unsheathed. Before long, Quan Chi found himself a few feet in front of an angry Orc with a big axe. A bit startled, Quan Chi unleashed flame upon his attacker, yet it seemed to have little effect. Before the Orc could bring his axe down on the intruder, Quan Chi hurriedly went out the door he came in. He waited outside, expecting the Orc to come after him...but the door remained closed. Quan Chi slowly came towards the door and entered it again, hoping he wouldn't regret his decision. Upon entering, the raging Orc swung his axe at Quan Chi, but missed and hit the wall. Quan Chi dashed to the other side of the room and summoned a wolf behind the Orc. The Orc turned to face the ghostly beast and Quan Chi unsheathed his swords and charged at the Orc's back and began to sliced him up. Quan Chi ultimately bested the Orc and he wondered how many times he will have to escape death in one day. He found a key on the Orc's body and did remember seeing another door on the ground level.
He found that the other door was indeed locked and they key he found opened it. Inside the door was a dark, dusty cave with sounds of metal hitting rocks and echoing voices. More bandits, as Quan Chi suspected, he didn't waste any time trying to sneak up on them and swiftly dealt with the first bandit he saw. There were only a few bandits working in the mine, all of them not landing more than a single hit on Quan Chi before meeting their demise. Quan Chi had a look at what they were all mining and found an large deposit of iron ore veins. He picked up a couple pickaxes and in a matter of hours the mine was cleared out of iron. Quan Chi left the fort carrying about 40 chunks of iron ore. Once again, Quan Chi continued north, not sure of what he'll find.

"Leave them for the wolves. It's all they deserve"

Andaryn found himself talking out loud. After everything he had been through he was amazed at how he had still had the strength to wield a shovel. Skyrim was so unlike Valenwood. Dogs, bears, snow, pine trees, mead. Centaurs, carniverous flowers, oaks and fermented pig milk are what reminded Andaryn of home. But even the soil was different. The cold hardened it and made it so difficult to penetrate. But he had to keep at it. After much toil, he had a hole large enough for the dedicated footsoldier.

Sanyon had apparently not seen fit to go himself, and sent an underling instead. The note Andaryn found on the body indicated that much. The mer had done his duty. Outnumbered four to one, he had taken out the heretical Talos worshippers as they engaged in their illegal devotions.

Andaryn found it incomprehensible that these Nords venerated Tiber Septim above all others. A mortal who had attacked every neutral nation in Tamriel without provocation and was a mass murderer. A man who had massacred thousands and flattened cities, out of nothing more than an egomaniacal desire to conquer and subjugate all around him. And they worshiped him! Heretics! Behind the mask of their religious devotion they were most certainly wishing for a renewed empire which would continue to extort the nations of mer with their tithes, humiliate our leaders through ceremonies of homage and emasculate our once proud armies so that we are left weak and unprepared like during the Pyandonean attack and the Oblivion Crisis. Even had he the strength for it, Andaryn would not have bothered to dig graves for the four heretics.

The shock marks clearly showed how the Altmer agent had taken down his four foes, but judging by the lasceration on his thigh he was not quick enough. He had bled to death, right in front of a statue of Talos, likely having used up all his magicka killing the heretics with not enough to even close his wound and save himself. The Dominion could not be shown as committing summary executions, so Andaryn knew he would have to dispose of the body. The salted beef and and heavy Jerall bread was the last thing he had eaten. That must have been two days ago. The Cyrodiils had not bothered to feed any of the prisoners after their capture. That would have been a waste, considering what the general had intended for all those taken prisoner. Andaryn was exhausted from over exertion and lack of food. But at last the grave was large enough. Dumping the body of the mer inside, he began to pile the dirt back in. In the distance he saw the mill of Riverwood. Food, sleep, drink, rest, information.... all so near.