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30th of Hearth Fire, 4e201
Lydia chose to walk 'oblivion's path' with me. She doesn't know what she's saying but it seems housecarl is a duty that cannot be abandoned. I am both relieved by her presence and worried just the same. She distracts me from certain thoughts and forces me to engage the ritual with the utmost caution. Perhaps her nearness is not a test. Maybe it's what I need to survive as I am.
My travel to and from Morthal has shown me that I have the strength to refrain from the ritual to every odd night. It makes me a bit weak and sluggish of mind but the urge does not overcome me. I might be able to condition myself to a sparser regimen. Will attempt this.
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1st of Frost Fall, 4e201
I have forced Onmund to 'participate' twice, last night and 4 days ago. He seemed weak of constitution this morning and now I realize I've over relied on him. I'll have to find someone else.
~
* * * *
Chapter 5: Fragments
1st of Frost Fall, 4E201
"Oh! You're back! Daddy, daddy, Lydia's back!"
The Nord warrior had just entered The Frozen Hearth. The seas were attacking Winterhold with tiny shards of ice as the whistling winds whisked ghosts from off the top of their waves and carried them onshore. The housecarl shuddered in front of the firepit to bring warmth back into her limbs, numbed for simply walking into town. Skyrim's winter had finally arrived.
She smiled broadly at the innkeeper's daughter. "Eirid, your greeting could warm the hearts and souls of any stranger come to this hold!"
"Lydia, your not a sftranger, you're a housfecarl, a great warrior! Ah! You want mead right? I'll get it for you!"
"Eirid, did you want to take this mug over to our guest?"
Lydia looked up to see Haran with the warrior's customary drink already poured. She handed the mug over to her daughter who dutifully carried the glass to the table closest to their counter. Looking about, the warrior quickly counted all the familiar faces plus one new one sitting in a dark corner with Enthir.
Feeling her limbs finally tingling with life, the Nord walked over to her seat and placed her bear cloak upon it. Eirid stood back and smiled, another gaping hole in her grin.
"I see you've lost another tooth. You're just going to get bigger and bigger aren't you? Pretty soon, you'll be as big as your mother."
"Heh hehhhfff! This time I pulled it myselfff! A warrior princesf like me can't let some old toothf get in the way. Wooooshfff! Brrrrrmmmfff!" Eirid whistled her words in excitement, her smile growing even bigger. "Tell me another sftory about one of your adventuresf!"
"Eirid? Come help your mother downstairs. We still have an Inn to run. I'll let you listen to one of Lydia's tales a little later." Haran nodded and smiled at the warrior before heading downstairs, her rambunctious girl running after.
Lydia sat down in front of her mead and raised her glass towards the innkeeper who promptly brought out the barkeeps dramskohl.
He poured himself a dram. "Skohl!" The two Nords lifted their cups to Sovngarde to the north... then to each other... then took their drink.
"Everything's the same?"
Dagur smacked his lips. "Aye, it is and you?"
The warrior looked down at her cup. "The road to Sovngarde... our hearts are true but the road is twisted, or so I've learned."
"Aye... that it is." The innkeeper tapped his glass back on his counter. "I'm certain that many a warrior both Stormcloak and Imperial has learned the truth of those words. Let's drink to that as well." He poured himself one more and lifted his glass. "Skohl!" and the two Nords repeated the ritual.
"Food?"
"If you would, please."
The proprietor walked over to his kitchen pot and ladled out a portion into a wooden bowl and brought it over to the housecarl. She thanked him for the meal and dug in.
"And where were you and your Thane off to this time?"
Lydia stabbed at a bit of meat she found and flaked off a portion. "Hjaalmarch."
The innkeeper leaned against a post and crossed his arms. "Lich, daedra-cult and now... something in Morthal?"
She looked up at Dagur, her mouth full. "...vam...pires."
Dagur let out a low whistle. "All dead I hope."
Lydia fished around in her bowl, her spoon hunting for its next meal in the thick stew. She nodded her head. "My Thane had... followed a vampire living among the townfolk. A diary had revealed her true nature along with the existence of a master vampire from Cyrodiil out in the moors. We killed them all and left the proof with the Jarl."
The innkeeper cocked his brows in deep thought, then shook his head in consternation. "Given my lot in life, I had chosen to accept magic users and let them be, but I was never much for its practice. If all magus are like your Thane, than us Nords do a great disservice for the lack of honor we give. Just goes to show that her title is well deserved. If only our own Jarl showed as much judgment, we might have more business around these parts..."
Dagur suddenly looked about to see if anyone had heard his careless words. Jarl Korir often came to visit as did everyone else in town. He leaned into Lydia's ear. "You didn't hear me say that right?"
"I only heard you praise Jarl Balgruuf. Was I not supposed to hear that?" The warrior smiled at the innkeeper who smiled back in thanks.
A voice sprang up from the din. "Master Innkeeper?"
Dagur looked up from his conversation and nodded his head. "Master Magus. How can I help you?"
Lydia glanced away from her food and saw that it was the stranger, an Altmer mage as it turned out.
"I have another errand to run. This time to Morthal, a few days and back. Here's the payment you requested and I trust I have not disturbed anyone?"
"No, no. Just, the usual among the ahh... few. I can still keep your things safe."
"Good, good. I was afraid my long absences of late might invite... jesters interested in teasing an Altmer while he was away. I'm off then."
The Altmer mage walked over to the entrance and wrapped his cloak about and across his face. He opened the door allowing the winter storm to tear apart the warmth within before stepping outside.
The housecarl spoke again as she corralled another morsel. "Whose the Altmer?"
"Ahh, that one is Nelecar. He's a long term resident. Told me he was a graduate of the College though I've never seen him actually enter the place. With him being away for so long for his last trip, I suppose you haven't met him yet. Came back yesterday just as this storm hit." Dagur smirked and then nodded at the housecarl. "Those poor elves have no sense of the majesty of winter. It's a wonder he didn't stay in Falkreath given how miserable he looked this morning."
Lydia looked towards the corner in which he had sat. The unctuous Enthir was still warming his seat and his wine. Nelecar was the classic definition of an Altmer. He was long of face. Eye's were elongated and baleful with upturned brows that gave the impression of a stern demeanor. His skin was a shade darker than jaundice and just as appealing. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Master Drevis and Scholar Arniel had not come down with the Bosmer for their usual meal together. All the mages in that College were full of reasons for appearing and disappearing, often without notice and at the moment, Enthir certainly looked as if he didn't want to be noticed.
The Nord warrior turned to the innkeeper with a guarded expression on her face. "Do you like him?"
Dagur responded with a quizzical one. "Like him? That elf? Sure, I guess. Never caused any trouble. Always pays in advance. He runs his experiments when he's here but is careful to make sure that we aren't alarmed or endangered. Why do you ask?"
Another one to keep an eye on...
The warrior put her spoon back in her bowl and lifted her mug in her hand. "Hmph... apparently for no reason. I usually have a sixth sense about people but lately, I've been... well, perhaps it's not what it used to be..." She drank half her mead. "Whuf! I won't dishonor the meadery granted license by my own Jarl but yours' a fine piece of work. Snowberries add a wonderful flavor."
The innkeeper smiled. "Aye it does. It's Haran's recipe and she deserves all the credit for it. I'll let her know you said that."
* * * *
Nephili sat in a quiet corner of the Arcanaeum studying The Book of Daedra hidden in her lap. Several other tomes lay about, all dealing one way or another with Porphyric Hemophilia, a strain of vampirism indigenous to the Nibenay Bay down in Cyrodiil. Wanting to research this topic is what had brought her back to Winterhold instead of to Ivarstead to collect the final piece of the Gauldur legend. The amulet was going to mitigate the worst of the symptoms brought on by Sanguinare Vampiris. The thing in front of her offered up the possibility of a cure.
After Nephili had wiped out Movarth's lair, she had returned to Morthal and gave herself a chance to study Alva's diary. With sunrise came the need to present herself to Jarl Ravencrone and explain the events that the town would surely discover. She then handed off the journal as evidence, but not before tearing out a few pages. Morthal would not miss anything for the loss but those torn slips of paper meant everything to the young Breton. They lay before her on the table, enticing her with a hope she had not felt since before contracting the urge.
Written within were a number of interesting notes. First, they mentioned another group of vampires, one's that Movarth wanted to purge. Second, the notes mentioned they were worshippers gathered around a shrine. Third was the name for the location of that shrine, Haemar's Shame and that it was somewhere between Falkreath Hold and The Rift.
What was most important however, was the name of the deity being worshipped. Unlike the Aedra, Daedric princes were known to commune with mortals with alarming regularity and this particular daedra was known as a prince whose sphere was the granting of power and wishes through ritual invocation and pact. Once, he had granted a blessing to the strain of vampire living in Cyrodiil, the ability to blend into mortal society effortlessly. To this sect, he was considered a patron of their order.
Julianos guide me...
...
The mage Adept felt eyes upon her; she looked up and found Brelyna, her arms filled with books, smiling at her. Nephili smiled back, drawing the Dunmer closer. She placed her books on an adjacent table and looked carefully at her friend. "I heard from Onmund that you had returned from your sudden trip a couple of days ago. Is everything alright?"
The Breton nodded, her expression the clearest Brelyna had seen in so many days. "I'm sorry I didn't come by to welcome you back before now. Tolfdir has been keeping us all very busy with trying to excavate the Orb out of Saarthal. You have no idea the expense and effort of the undertaking! J'zargo and Nyria were sent out to collect materials for Master Sergius and I've been made busy pulling research materials and transcribing notes.
"That is wonderous. Everyone working together to understand this Orb. It must be unusual." replied Nephili.
"It seems it is. Even Nyria had mentioned that she's never seen half the College working to understand just one thing, not in the three years she's been here at least. Well, except regarding the 'incidents'." Brelyna's expression changed as she asked the next question. "Can I ask where you and Lydia ran off to so suddenly? And, now that you're back, does that mean you're available to help?"
Nephili took a breath and gave the best answer she could."The two of us went to Morthal. In Saarthal... I also found something. It was on that powerful draugr guarding the Orb and research into it lead me off to Folgunthur."
"Oh! Do you think it's related to the Orb?"
"...maybe. At least, I haven't ruled it out."
Brelyna, I'm so sorry. I just lied to you. I'll make it up, I promise...
"Interesting! Seems all of us have been dragged into this find in one way or another. I look forward to hearing what you might discover." The Dunmer Adept glanced down at the table of research materials.
...
She looked up at her friend with a more urgent expression. "Did you have any more vampire encounters? Is everything reallyalright?"
Nephili's mind suddenly relaxed. The tightness in her expression disappeared and a genuine smile came out. Brelyna, you are really... when everything is over, I promise you I will answer this with all my heart...
"The moors, they were hiding a coven of Cyrodiilic vampires plotting to take over Morthal. We managed to kill them all and received the Jarl's thanks for the effort. The whole thing was entirely incidental but it helped settle... some questions. If I had known about it in advance, I would definitelyhave taken you up on the offer you gave me. As for being alright..."
"...I'm thinking now of traveling to Riften actually. I need to travel south for my research but it gives me a chance to lay to rest something that still weighs on my heart. I've heard the main temple of Mara is there. They would want to know that one of their priests had... died..."
The Dunmer smiled in kind at her friend. "This is why I... well, I've been made so busy that I may not see you away. So, I want you tohave a safe trip and when you get back, promise me you'll tell me everything."
* * * *
"In reality, hope is the worst of all evils..."
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