Story of a Breton Farm Girl from Cyrodiil, Ch.03, part 19

  • 10:20pm, 24th of Hearth Fire, 4E201

    Lydia was eating a late evening meal of stew and ale in the town of Dawnstar, a fishing and mining village situated between Morthal and Winterhold. Her Thane was working on the same but also listening intently to Erandur, a Priest of Mara who spoke of an imminent threat plaguing the people. Studying her charge, Lydia almost smiled at the Breton's evident self assurance of the past few days. Her recent elevation in rank as a mage and their triumphant battle against the Wolf Queen had given her a surer step and a less anxious demeanor. They had also basked in the gratitude of the Steward and Jarl Ilisif the Fair. With such rich experience, her Thane was surely learning to grasp her fate with firm hands. It seemed possible to Lydia now, that she might find the life of honor and strength that her nordic heart desired. Apart from her charge exhibiting a sudden torpor under the late summer sun, Talos was doubtlessly smiling upon them.

    The warrior brought herself back to the present and listened to the tail end of Erandur's conversation. "You have listened to my story with great interest. Does this mean perhaps you'd be willing to assist me in that regard?"

    Her Thane responded in the affirmative. "For an entire town to be plagued by a Daedric Lord... if you say there is a way to stop her nightmares, I am only too glad to help."

    "Mara be praised! Nightcaller Temple is only a short walk from Dawnstar. It's going to feel good to finally have a chance to help these people. Helplessly watching them suffer's been difficult. Come, we must hurry."

    The three quietly left the Inn and began their trek up the snow laden hillside towards the ruined temple. Pitch black, the scenery this night was completely hidden under cloud, without star or moons or aurora to guide them. Erandur led the Breton and Nord onward with a torch and a sure step.

    In a short while, the three stood before an ancient ruin, which the locals called the Tower of Dawn for reasons long forgotten. The priest turned at the entrance to speak a bit more of what lay inside. "Years ago, this temple was raided by an Orc war party seeking revenge... they were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar. In order to save themselves, the Priests of Vaermina released what they call the Miasma, a ritual gas which they normally used to place individuals into a deep sleep. Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the gas was designed to slow down the aging process. Sadly, the longer an individual was exposed to the Miasma, the more damaged the mind became."

    Erandur spoke his next thoughts in more urgent tones. "I'm concerned that when this place is unsealed, the Miasma will dissipate and they'll awaken; both orcs and priests alike. As such, it is good that there are three of us here. Having a third means someone can guard the front entrance to prevent anyone from escaping while the other one follows me in to help me destroy the source of the problem. So who will it be?"

    The housecarl bristled at this sudden turn of events. "I cannot allow my Thane to travel into danger without my presence. I'll go."

    "No Lydia, I'll go. Between us, you are the one most capable of protecting the town. Besides, I won't be alone, will I?" The Breton smiled at the housecarl.

    The Nord warrior reluctantly nodded, forced to accept her Thane's logic. Bidding them luck and health, she watched the two enter into the ancient keep. A sudden chill ran down Lydia's spine which she brushed off as quickly as possible. Unfounded fear by its nature, was dishonorable and an ill omen. Nevertheless, she felt a strong misgiving for promising to guard this door. The warrior prayed to Talos for forgiveness... and to protect her Thane.

    *     *     *     *

    11:50pm, 24th of Hearth Fire, 4E201

    For Nephili, traveling to Dawnstar had been an unusual struggle. The late summer sun of Skyrim was more brilliant then she had ever remembered at any time and for some reason, it oppressed her. It had made her feel almost uncomfortably warm despite the cold temperatures and had forced her to slow her journey noticeably as she worked to conserve her energy. But now, having rested and eaten at the Inn and embraced by the cool night air, the young mage felt alive and sharp once more.

    Standing at the entrance to the massive tower, the Breton could almost feel Lydia's concern. She smiled at the housecarl. "Don't be so worried! I promise you'll see us at dawn." With those words, she turned away and followed Erandur into Nightcaller Temple.

    The first chamber turned out to be a grand chapel of ages past, now filled with broken chairs and fallen rubble. At the far end stood a lecturn and behind it was a massive relief carved into the stone wall. It was an image of a robed Vaermina, flanked by two dragon heads upon her shoulders and holding a daedric skull. Erandur bade the Breton wait as he performed a spell in front of the carving. The very wall dematerialized as the carving all but disappeared, revealing a hidden entrance into the great tower beyond. Ancient air, or rather a gas clearly tinged purple, began to spill out into the chapel.

    Nephili wondered at the priest's knowledge but kept her own council as they continued onwards. Inside the tower, the priest stopped at an opening that looked out into a great courtyard dominating the center of the stronghold from the basement level all the way to the ceiling far above. They appeared to be on the third level.

    He pointed to the bottom where stood an elevated platform with a stone backdrop. In the center of the dais rested a stave, perhaps shoulder height and with what appeared to be a daedric skull anchored to the top of a well worn length of... perhaps wood. Clearly visible was a barrier protecting the instrument. The Breton mage sensed a malevolent power emanating from the stave and shuddered at the dark magics.

    "Behold the Skull of Corruption, the source of Dawnstar's woes. We must reach the inner sanctum and destroy it. Lore holds that the staff has a constant hunger for the memories of others. It's been out of touch for so long, I fear it's gained the ability to reach out on its own to feed. Come, there's no time to lose."

    Walking down the first flight of stairs, they saw ahead of them a magical barrier protecting the entry into the next room and the lower reaches beyond. Before it were two Orc warriors, looking for all the world as if they had simply laid down to rest upon the cold stones. As they approached, the Orcs awoke and turned their heads to see the intruders. They stood up with anger upon their lips and weapons in their hands.

    "You're going to pay for what you did! No one will escape!"

    The Dunmer priest brought forth his mace and quickly dove in to strike. "I was afraid of this! We've no choice but to kill them!"

    Nephili followed his lead and conjured her Flame Atronach and then her Firebolts. She threw multiple shots against Erandur's attacker who quickly fell under their combined efforts, burned and bloodied. The other Orc had attempted to move around to pincer the Priest but had tripped on his own feet. He struggled to get back up, not realizing his body had slumbered for years. With a great swing, Erandur stove in his skull, splattering blood and other fluids across the floor and onto his robes. The Priest of Mara turned to face the barrier and cursed his luck.

    ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... blood

    "Damn it. The priests must have activated this impediment when the Miasma was released."

    Nephili threw a few fireballs at the magical barricade to test its strength.

    "Save your power. It'll be impossible to break through with brute force."

    Erandur gazed at the blocked entry in frustration and scratched his chin for a solution. "Hmmm... thinking back, there may be a way to bybass this barrier. However, we'll have to check the library and confirm it can be done."

    The young girl looked at the priest with hardening eyes. "I didn't inquire because you asked us to trust you but now I must insist. You seem awfully knowledgeable of this place."

    Erandur glanced at her face and sighed in realization. "I suppose there's no point in concealing the truth any longer. My knowledge of this temple comes from personal experience. I was a priest of Vaermina."

    The young mage carried herself more cautiously at hearing his answer. She asked her next question seeking trust, seeking deception. "Why didn't you tell us? Why the secrecy?"

    "I fled... and left my brothers and sisters behind to die. If I was to reveal myself, the time do so would have been decades ago and I would've hung from the gallows for it. If I revealed this you, then what? Sorry for following the misguided teachings of a mad Divine? Sorry for stealing memories from children? Do you realize when the Orcs attacked, I was only concerned with myself? Perhaps I still deserve punishment but I chose to live among my regrets and seek redemption through the grace of Mara. And by Her Benevolence, I will right my wrongs."

    The priest stopped to take a breath for his serenity. "There is much guilt which I must atone. Having come this far, I must go on. Will you still help me?"

    Hearing the priests confession, the young mage decided to step away from her misgivings. "Helping Dawnstar..."

    "...I intend to hold onto my promises. Dreams... are essential. They should not be stolen from anyone and I certainly won't stand to watch the dreams of others turn into nightmares."

    Erandur smiled at her reply. "What a good thought. Indeed they should not. Perhaps more than just my prayers are being answered. Perhaps your reason for stumbling across Dawnstar is more than a mere coincidence. When this all over, I'd like to... well... nevermind. We can talk about such things later."

    "Right now, we should head to the library to search for a book of alchemical recipes called 'The Dreamstride.'"The priest walked back up the stairs towards another entryway, closer to where they had stopped to gaze into the great tower.

    Nephili turned to follow him but then looked down at the dead Orcs, once the victims of Vaermina's dream-theft and now victims all over again in the priest's quest to save a town.

    They had attacked us but... this is wrong. They don't deserve this...

    Remorse filled Nephili's heart as she walked away from the carnage. She hoped that in the rooms to come, the sleepers did not awaken only to have to die again.

    ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... blood

    *     *     *     *

    Now is the winter of our discontent.

Comments

2 Comments
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  August 11, 2012
    Nephili's transition to greater confidence has been convincing throughout your tale, and it is enjoyable to see her at her height, perhaps aided by the fact that Lydia is not there?  The repetition of the blood thing is disturbing...and I think I might un...  more
  • ricardo maia
    ricardo maia   ·  August 10, 2012
    I feel Nephili is finally getting in control of herself and her power. She is steadier and her actions seems to be guided by a sense of finality. It seems like a good point in the narrative to turn her world inside out and make her experience the long awa...  more