UJON, Book Sixteen, Part Two - Dungeons and Daedra

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    19th Sun’s Dusk

     

    As I rather expected, the Breton girl was gone when I got back from Riftweald Manor. I was more surprised that the Bosmer had gone with her, though.

     

    As for the Manor itself, I wonder whether it might be available for rent soon. Rather more spacious than Honeyside, to say the least. Getting in wasn’t too difficult, I convinced the lug outside that Mercer had sent for him from Markarth, he even left me the key to look after. If I do take over the place, I probably won’t be hiring him. Managed to get the ramp down by throwing a rock at the mechanism, which was a relief, Delvin suggested a bow and arrow which… No, not going to happen. I could probably have climbed up, just about, but the ramp was easier. Naturally Mercer had guards, but they weren’t exactly on high alert, and maintaining my Invisibility spell is more or less second nature now, so it wasn’t much of a challenge.

     

    The traps in the cellar tunnels were… well, quite a bit harder. I only got a bit winded by the one that actually hit me – one of those blasted suspended battering rams that the bloody Nords seem to have a religious devotion to, judging by the range of places that have them. Luckily there weren’t any guards in the cellar, so I could just Whirlwind Sprint past most of them. Eventually I got to Mercer’s Special Secret Room, where I found some rather valuable items (I must dig through Aunt Estoril’s letters, the blade I found seemed awfully… familiar somehow, I’m sure I remember something about a pale, cold sword) and, more importantly, a book filled with notes – some in cipher, some in plain language. Nothing all that tricky to interpret, though, I’ll have another look next time I have a bit of time to myself (ha!)

     

    I must get a few hours’ sleep, then I’ll head back to the Cistern and show the last couple of pages to Brynjolf and Karliah. Something tells me I’ll need the rest.

     

    ***

     

    19th Sun’s Dusk

     

    Brynjolf was doing his best not to show how worried he felt, and his guildmates were doing their best to pretend he was succeeding. The city had been in chaos after Constance Michel, the pretty Imperial who worked at Honorhall Orphanage had run into the marketplace, screaming that the children had found Grelod murdered and bloody in her bed. People were doing a great job of looking shocked and saddened by the old lady’s death. Well, those who hadn’t ever been inside the Orphanage unannounced… Or grown up there. Brynjolf shuddered. In any case, the disruption had made it easier to do a quick survey of people who might know of Mercer’s whereabouts. He hoped Nerussa had had better luck; she usually did. Ah, and here she was now!

     

    “We’ve scoured the town, and I’ve spoken to every contact we have left. No sign of Mercer. Any luck on your end, lass?”

     

    “By the looks of things, he’s long gone, may not even have been back since Snow Veil, judging by the fact he left these plans behind. I’m not sure what some of it’s referring to, but I’ve deciphered most of the last few pages, look.”

     

    “Shor’s beard! He’s going after the eyes of the Falmer? That was Gallus’s pet project…”

     

    “The… eyes of the Falmer?”

     

    “Yes, if he gets his hands on them, he’ll be set for life, we’ll surely no’ see him again.”

     

    “Then we stop him.” Brynjolf relaxed a little, and smiled at the She-Elf. He was a prideful man, and she was one of his best finds. Delvin agreed with him on this, particularly after she’d been given a job in Windhelm, just a routine redistribution of valuables, and admitted to Delvin on her return that she had left coin in place of the requested item. Their contact had implied that the Atherons were rather more well-off than the other Dunmer in the city, Nerussa had disagreed, but she’d still completed the job. That was the interesting part. Yes, she’d do.

     

    “Agreed. He’s robbed us blind already, but to go after one last heist – this last heist, one of the greatest in Skyrim… It’s an insult! I’ve spoken to Karliah, made amends for her exile. She asked to speak to us both when you got back, and we’ve no time to lose.”

     

    Nerussa turned, and approached Karliah, now dressed in a set of Guild armour, standing in the centre of the room. The Dunmer looked far older, all of a sudden, and Brynjolf had a feeling Nerussa wasn’t going to like what Karliah had to say. She sighed, and crossed the room.

     

    ***

     

    An hour or two later, as the first stars appeared in the night sky, Nerussa found her way to the Shadow Stone – her own birth stone, she supposed, and so close to the city which Iona had told her had been rebuilt after a rebellion had all but destroyed it, the work taking five years, and ending in 4E 134 – the year Nerussa had been born. Perhaps that was why she felt so fond of the place, she thought, stamping her feet to keep them warm. Winter was setting in, it seemed, even in the relatively mild south east of the province. She hoped Karliah and Brynjolf would be along soon.

     

    A small cough to her left, and she realised that Karliah was already there. Damn, and there was Brynjolf’s red hair, moving forward into the moonlight. She was getting good at hiding, but needed to practice paying a little more attention to who else might be doing the same. They spoke briefly, before Karliah ushered them into a narrow opening, cut into the mountainside.

     

    “So, this is Nightingale Hall,” Brynjolf mused, “I’d heard rumours of this place when I joined the Guild, but I never believed it was real.”

     

    “The assumption that the Nightingales were just a myth was seeded in the Guild on purpose. It helped divert attention from our true nature. What’s wrong, Brynjolf, I can almost hear your brow furrowing…”

     

    “I’m trying to understand why I’m here, lass. I’m no priest, I’m not religious at all. Why pick me?” Nerussa had to admit, she was wondering the same thing. As she understood it, the Nightingales were some sort of cult, devoted to Nocturnal, and she found herself trying to ignore a small voice in the back of her head, asking what Äelberon would make of this.

     

    Karliah responded, “this isn’t religion, Brynjolf. It’s business. This,” she indicated a brazier and a wall set into the end of the passageway, “is Nightingale Hall. You’re the first of the uninitiated to set foot inside in over a century.”

     

    ***

     

     

    20th Sun’s Dusk (late)

     

    Camping outside Irkngthand, glad Rumarin stayed outside or we’d have had no bloody dry clothing. Bloody bastard Frey. “Ooh, I’m so clever, look at me, running around, drinking invisibility potions, you’ll never catch me!” Okay, maybe Shouting in that chamber wasn’t my best plan, but I was tired, and it was only Laas – it's practically a whisper, and shouldn’t have disrupted that pipe, I’m sure. I got through most of the ruin without being noticed, Brynjolf obviously doesn’t have the Illusion skill for staying invisible, though, although to be fair, he can cast the basic spell, provided he moves very slowly and doesn’t get distracted.

     

    There was one rather terrifying point where… I think it must have been a Centurion, I’ve read about them and seen illustrations, but when you’re running from the damned things (or looking at a fallen one) it’s hard to recall the details of books one studied decades ago… Anyway, one of those must have sensed us somehow, and started lumbering after us, shooting steam and steel bolts at us. Thankfully, the commotion drew the attention of a crowd of what I assume were Falmer (hideous, twisted creatures, a little like the goblins of Cyrodiil – hard to imagine them being descended from the same race of Mer as Äelberon. Gods, I don’t know what I’m going to tell him about this business with Nocturnal. He’ll know, won’t he?)

     

    I’m all over the place, where was I..? Yes, the Falmer. They took most of its attention, which meant Brynjolf and Karliah could use the crossbows they took from the bandits outside the ruin on the thing. I did what I could with shock spells, and eventually we got the damn thing on the floor.

     

    Mercer wasn’t far beyond that point, he was obviously aware we were there, we even saw him at a distance, once or twice. Arrogant sod. Anyway, he’s dead, now. I found a notebook in his pack, I need to go cross reference it with the one I took from Riftweald Manor, but I think it may help us to track down what he stole from the Guild.

     

    And so, Nocturnal. I have to admit, the armour is rather fetching. Rumarin seems to like it, although apparently his main interest is in getting a friend of his to sell replicas… I don’t think, technically, I actually made the oath Karliah mentioned – I never spoke to Nocturnal, nor did She address me, or Brynjolf. But I’m no expert in Daedra, I have no idea if that matters or not.

     

    Äelberon would know… But that would mean talking to him about it. We’re heading back to Rorikstead tomorrow, though, so I suppose I’ll have to. The strangest thing happened, I was clearing out my pack in Honeyside yesterday before we took the carriage north, and I found… well, it’s just a long strip of leather, rolled into a ball, but… I’m sure it’s the one I saw – and did NOT pick up – in Elenwen’s quarters. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but it must be Äelberon’s, mustn’t it? For his hair. I’m surprised the bastards didn’t cut it, they must have been waiting for someone more important to arrive from Alinor. I must have picked the ball up, I suppose, but I could swear I didn’t.

     

     

Comments

4 Comments   |   The Long-Chapper and 1 other like this.
  • Karver the Lorc
    Karver the Lorc   ·  May 5, 2018
    Well, now I'm certainly curious what's Ronnie gonna think about this. Technically, Nerussa hasn't made any pact. Can someome else make it for her? I do not think that a Daedric Prince would somehow forget to include two other people into the pact only bec...  more
    • Gnewna
      Gnewna
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Well, now I'm certainly curious what's Ronnie gonna think about this. Technically, Nerussa hasn't made any pact. Can someome else make it for her? I do not think that a Daedric Prince would somehow forget to include two other people into the pact only bec...  more
        ·  May 10, 2018
      It's fiddly, for sure! 
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  May 2, 2018
    Nerussa 'bout to sell her soul... Oh boy. 
    • Gnewna
      Gnewna
      The Long-Chapper
      The Long-Chapper
      The Long-Chapper
      Nerussa 'bout to sell her soul... Oh boy. 
        ·  May 2, 2018
      Well, she technically has, assuming Karliah offering it counted...