(I get by with a little help from my friends)
I didn’t get much sleep in Jorrvaskr that night as I paced the Harbinger’s quarters, mulling over what steps to take next. An Elder scroll – I had no idea how to find one. It was going to require detective work. There were the Blades, that’s true. Esbern could be asked, but I also had a few less traditional routes to pursue – who else would know something as precious as a Scroll but a thief? I imagined perhaps Delvin might have an idea where it could be found. But that would mean dividing my time, and time was something I didn’t have much of. I’d probably have to delegate, and I could trust Vilkas to that.
Eventually after several hours of lost sleep chasing my own thoughts round my head, I looked up at the door to find Vilkas standing there, buckling on his armour. I doubt he had slept much either. ”Figured you wanted to get going sooner rather than later,” he said, yawning and handing a cup of chai to me. ”Want to tell me what I can do?”
“I think I may have to call a bit of help in on this one,” I sighed, and I explained as much to Vilkas as I dared, though I said nothing about Paarthurnax being a dragon. ”This Scroll could be anywhere, but it’s the only chance I have. Esbern may have an idea where to find it.”
“Then I’ll go ask him,” Vilkas said, nodding. ”Where will you head off to?”
“Going to visit friends in Riften who may have some information as well,” I replied, taking the chai from Vilkas as I kissed him briefly. ”We’ll meet back here when we’ve got something we can use.”
“Very good, Harbinger,” Vilkas said, striding towards the door.
I managed to get a horse at the stables just as the sun was creeping over the horizon and made my ragged way, managing to get some sleep in a tiny village that night before pressing on to Riften. All the while, I chased my thoughts round in my head – would the Shout even work? When others had decided to send Alduin forward in time rather than use the Shout – but no, they had devised the Shout later. To be truthful I had no idea what I would find, or how I could use it. Everything hung on a hope. And when I needed luck, there was really only one place to go.
I made my way into the Thieves’ Guild byways, feeling a small swelling of pride at the bustle; we were fully restored to glory – there were alchemists, poisoners, armoursmiths and mead by the barrel as Maven Black-Briar was never happier with our work. The whole place was filled with new faces, and even a few wearing Nightingale armour. When I strode in, I was halloed and grinned at by all and sundry. Brynjolf and Vex were poring over some of the plans I had recovered from Mercer’s house, and Delvin was fingering a few trinkets which had been added to the special cache of valuables we had on display.
“Ah, a pleasure, boss,” Delvin said as I bowed before Nocturnal’s shrine. ”Good ta see ya, what can we do for ya?”
“I need all your knowledge, Delvin,” I said, nodding a greeting to Brynjolf and Vex. ”Got a special job – personal one, really.”
“What’s up, lass?” Brynjolf asked, sitting down in a chair and pouring some mead for us both while Vex scuttled off with the plans.
“I’m looking for a scroll, a special scroll. Something called an Elder Scroll.”
“You’re joking,” Delvin said flatly after nearly choking on his mead. ”Those things are legendary, not even sure they exist!”
“Neither do Nightingales,” I said with a small smile. ”And you’re the authority on the obscure and half-forgotten. Are you sure there isn’t some sort of knowledge somewhere?”
“That’s much too mystical for me,” Brynjolf said, shaking his head. ”But there’s a reason you’d be asking for such a thing, lass. I remember the stories when I was a kid, but never thought they’d be true.”
“I dunno,” Delvin said slowly, scratching his stubbly cheek with his fingers. ”I could do a bit of digging; pretty sure someone back in the dawn of time tried to steal one at some point. I know a lot of mages that would gleefully murder to get ahold of one. Let me do some digging in the old memory and read a few pieces I’ve got here and there. You got a little time?”
“A little, but not much, may as well have a look at the coffers while I’m here and line my pockets, if nothing else, eh?” I took my mead with me as I did the tour round the Guild, surveying the wet ears and getting the gossip from the street. It wasn’t really an act – these were my people, and I was the Guildmaster. I needed to show my face from time to time, see if anyone needed some help, keep things smooth. I didn’t realise how much that meant to people until later, but it meant a fair bit.
A few hours later, while I was in a game of drafts with some of the crew, Delvin came looking for me. ”Well the good news is, they actually exist,” Delvin said dryly. ”Turns out there’s a story that the Grey Fox himself stole a scroll from the Imperial Palace some time ago. Where it went from there, I don’t know. But I can try and chase that up for you and get some of our boys on it. We’ve got branches all over Skyrim now, thanks to you.”
It wasn’t what I needed, but it was a start. ”Thanks, Delvin. Do you think you could let Karliah know what I’m looking for as well? She’s got other connections.” I didn’t go into detail but I was pretty sure Karliah would know what I meant; the Nightingale Sentinels had long memories, and perhaps if she consulted them, they might be able to tell her where an Elder Scroll could be found.
There was nothing else for it at this point – it was time to head back to Jorrvaskr with the hope that Vilkas had managed to do more than I had done. A week had gone by now, and when I entered Jorrvaskr’s halls again, Farkas hailed me. I hadn’t seen him for some time and I hugged him as he lifted me off the ground. ”There’s my favourite fur-less troll!” I chided, kissing his cheek.
“Evenin’,” he rumbled as he set me down, studying me with his ice-blue eyes. ”Vilkas is downstairs, and he isn’t happy. I’m not sure why, but you and my brother haven’t been around much – what’s going on?”
I sighed – what could I possibly say? More to the point, what could I say that Farkas could grasp? I didn’t want anyone to worry, and the story itself would take too long. Instead I gave Farkas my best smile and thumped his chest with the side of my fist. ”Making history, Farkas; it will be worthy of a song, just wait.” I left him with a very furrowed brow as I made my way below, where Vilkas was poring over a map with Aela, and their faces were grim.
“You didn’t find much either, did you?” I said, misinterpreting their faces, but it was Aela who spoke first.
“Actually, we did. I managed to talk Vilkas into letting me accompany him – “
“She held me down and didn’t let me up till I agreed,” Vilkas muttered.
” – and we spoke to the scholar, Esbern. He had much to say about the scrolls, although I admit I only understood the half of it.”
“There was some form of cult from ages past,” Vilkas said, reaching to unfold a scroll. ”The Cult of the Ancestral Moth – strange name – that studied the scrolls. Apparently doing so eventually made them blind, or mad…not an auspicious thing to have it seems, but coveted all the same.”
“Esbern seemed to think we’d have luck among other scholars and wizards of the area, so we ended up making our way to the College of Mages in Winterhold,” Aela continued. ”I convinced them to let us enter – “
“She shifted,” Vilkas added with a sigh.
“And with evidence of magic ability, they let us in. And well done too, or I would have taken a bite out of that Altmer! We went to the library and found it was held by a rather gruff orc. Vilkas used his own charms on that one.”
“I didn’t do anything untoward, no duels, nothing like that!” Vilkas said hastily when I gave him a glare. ”Actually we discussed the Nord classics – the library is extensive!”
“After softening the librarian up a bit – and what a boring conversation that was – he allowed us to read a book from a scholar, Septimus-something, ” Aela said. ” To be honest, it wasn’t exactly a fount of wisdom. The scholar had gone quite mad.”
“Still, the librarian did tell us where to find the man,” Vilkas said, pointing at a map of Skyrim. ”He was studying a puzzlebox and other dwemer artifacts just to the north across the ice flows.”
“Mad as a rabid wolf, that one,” Aela added with a sniff as she lifted a pack and then handed it to me. ”I couldn’t make any sense out of him, but Vilkas managed better.”
“I’m used to talking to my brother,” Vilkas said with a small smile, then tapped another place on the map. ”I managed to get a bit more of the story out of him, although it was wrapped in mutterings and madness, and he mentioned a place called Blackreach – a forgotten dwemer city; and a dangerous place too. Filled with falmer and dwemer machines which are still active. He couldn’t get in, so he told us the way as long as we brought some things back for him.”
“That bag has what he called an attunement sphere – we’ll need to charge that in some way so he can open the puzzlebox,” Aela said. ”The blank lexicon will scribe itself apparently once we reach our destination and give him the information he needs. To be truthful, whatever the madman is tinkering with, I wouldn’t bother about. He’s mad, but he’s very intelligent – and that makes him dangerous.”
“But the only way to get the scroll it seems is to have those,” Vilkas nodded to the pack. ”There’s no other way. I gave my word as a Companion that I’d bring them back, but beyond that, it’s up to you.”
I listened to their interplay of voices, and sighed, nodding in thanks to them both. ”You’ve both been very resourceful, and I thank you. How do I get to Blackreach? I’ve dealt with Falmer before.”
“That’s just it, it’s huge,” said Karliah. I startled and turned round to find she and Brynjolf were both stepping into the room, dressed in the Nightingale armour, with Farkas behind them. I didn't ask how they found me - all part of the trade.
“Just keeping an eye on these strangers,” Farkas said, eyeing the pair dubiously and flexing his massive arms. ”Don’t like strangers – they all right?”
“Yes, they’re fine, thanks,” I said, staring at my fellow thieves. ”What are you two doing here?” I was hoping there wasn’t going to be a scuffle, but I needn’t have worried – I made hasty introductions and it became apparent to everyone that the one thing that united them all was their loyalty to me. To say I was humbled was an understatement.
“We did our own checking, lass; Delvin did some digging,” Brynjolf said as he brought a very worn book out of his packs. ”We were able to trace back about the Scroll the Grey Fox stole, and how the Imperial Palace had found it. We found that these things tended to be in the depths of dwemer ruins most the time. Maybe they found a way to harness their power, it’s hard to say. In any event, we then did a track of every single dwemer site the Guild has ever come across.”
“They’re usual ripe for the picking, filled with artifacts and spoils so they’ve always been profitable to know about where they are,” Karliah added as she started to flip through some of the rather battered books. ”There’s a few that we came up with as possibilities, but we did find out about Blackreach – and it’s massive – bigger even than Irkngthand. We’ve got account after account here of lone thieves who went in and didn’t come out. One did, and the stories he told were pretty unpleasant. It’s not passable with only one – you need a small army.”
“And that’s where we come in, isn’t it?” Farkas asked, his eyes gleaming.
Things were running away from me again, and I raised my hand. ”Oh no, now that I will not have happening. I’ve got two places to run now, and I need help to do that – “
“And none of that will happen if you fail to get the Scroll, Dragonborn,” Vilkas said.
“Wait, Dragonborn?” Brynjolf said. “You’re joking, it’s all just a rumour! Granted, realising the white-haired Bosmer was the Harbinger was surprise enough.” I winced. Damn Vilkas and his cunning – he just gave me his blandest look.
“She is what she is. I’ve fought more than a few dragons at her side. And if she fails to bring the Black Dragon down, the whole world is done. Believe me when I say this – everything, gone. This is the only way, the only chance we’ve got to stop that. And while she may be Dragonborn, she needs help to get this Scroll. I’m sworn to protect her, and protect her I will.”
“You’re not the only one,” Aela said as she nodded firmly, eyes blazing and Farkas beamed fiercely.
“I don’t know what sort of code you follow, thief,” Vilkas said to Brynjolf, eyeing him warily, “but it was honour that brought you here ready for battle if need be, aye?”
“Aye,” Brynjolf said quietly, and Karliah nodded. ”We owe her a debt, as Guildmaster, and as friend. You’ll need help, and if it’s an unpassable door or a lethal trap, we can manage to get you through it.”
“Oh come on – ” I interjected weakly, but Farkas stepped forward, his arms folded across his chest and his brow furrowed.
“Why would you deny us the chance to do some small thing for you when you have done so much? Isn’t that what friends are for? Haven’t I sworn an oath to you? I’m not all that smart, but I don’t have to be. I still meant it.”
I looked round at each of them in turn, and any argument died away. I want to make this clear – I was and am Dragonborn. But I would have never got there, there managed to have gone as far as I did, never survived without many people, large and small, hero or merchant or gossip all lending a hand in their own way. There is no hero, no king, no rich man who managed to do everything to get there without aid in one way or another. Only an arrogant fool would dare to suggest otherwise. From the first moment when Ralof cut the bonds off my wrists and saved me from Alduin’s ire I had been in the debt of good friends, and it was people who believed in me who had helped me live this long. Never forget that lesson – no one rises to glory and good deeds by themselves.
I smiled, blinking rapidly so I didn’t embarrass myself with tears. ”Oh, you’re all in league, bless you!” I said softly. ”And I thank you. Farkas, get Tilda to make up some more beds. Aela, would you take my friends up to the Skyforge and have Eorlund put the best edge on their blades he possibly can? Let me see those books, Brynjolf – I want to see that map; I know it’s not complete but it’s better than nothing.”
I set them all to work, and they moved with efficiency until the room was all but empty. Vilkas looked back at me as he took up his bow to go hunting – we would have a decent meal before we left. He gave me a smile, but his eyes were clouded. ”Your wyrd worries me, sometimes,” he admitted. ”I would not put a scroll in your hands for anything in this world. But that you have many who would stand with you gives me hope.”
“It’s why I’m doing all this,” I said, sitting down and gazing at the pile of books before me, more with determination than despair. “I won’t let Alduin destroy this. I won’t have it, Vilkas.”
“I know.”
We could have said more, but we didn’t have to. We knew each other’s hearts. And so he hunted, and so I read, and we prepared to venture into the depths of the world.
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