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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-201-11-18 08:14
Greathall, Skaal, Solstheim, Morrowind
When I open my eyes, I see Fanari getting dressed. We make ourselves a nice breakfast, but we're not talking much. I wonder if something is wrong. Maybe she fears that other villagers will somehow guess what it was we did. Maybe she's simply not a morning person. Maybe I'm just worrying without a reason.
I spend the next hour or so basking in the admiration of the villagers and then the girls and I head for Ravenrock. We pass by the Temple of Miraak and the worker slaves have indeed all left.
Approaching Ravenrock, I'm startled to hear a woman's voice talking really close, almost as if in my head. Completely baffled, I look everywhere and realize the voice seems to be coming from one direction. So it's probably just strange echo between the rocks here, not some daedra who has decided to request my assistance with something.
We walk towards the apparent source of the voice and after a while we can see a man and a woman arguing. Something about a treasure and a map and a boss. Before I can get a clear idea of what's going on, they attack each other.
They move fast and we follow them and then another man appears – a bandit with a bow. He shoots a couple of arrows at them, but then he decides he hates me more. I realize I'm still without arrows, so all I can do is grab my enchanted dagger and run towards him, but my girls shoot him dead first.
In the meantime, the other battle has ended. The man is dead. The woman is perfectly civil with us, but she doesn't wish to chat and we don't insist. I take some arrows from my followers and we move on.
Even though it's not even 1 o'clock in the afternoon when we arrive, I decide to spend the day hanging around in Ravenrock. We can just as well return to Windhelm tomorrow. Or even go at night and sleep on the ship. That would depend on how comfortable the captain is with navigating in the darkness.
We walk around, shopping as well as making conversation with people from First Counselor Morvayn to the soldier guarding the prison. The marketplace is bustling with activity. I meet Captain Veleth and walk with him a while. I notice my friend of sorts, the Orc loanshark Mogrul, following me with his eyes from some distance, but he clearly doesn't want to come near the captain of the town guards.
Veleth says Glover the blacksmith smells of trouble. I too have the feeling that there's something suspicious about him, but I haven't the slightest idea what he might be up to.
Glover assures Veleth that he has nothing but good intentions towards everyone in this town. Guess what? I can well believe it. Towards everyone in this town . "The wolf doesn't hunt near its lair," or how did the saying go?
Speaking of good intentions, I can't get rid of the feeling that Veleth does have particularly good ones towards someone female in this town. But just as with Glover's possible dubious activities, I haven't found any clues to anything specific. So I just wish Veleth good luck with his work and look around. My followers are idling nearby. Good. Mogrul is walking towards me with a bright smile on his face. I smile back, hoping to not look frightened, and give a sign to my girls.
Mogrul tells me he's glad to see me and we exchange a few polite and somewhat awkward phrases. Visibly shy of four women together, he goes about his business. I suggest to the girls we go and check out the temple one more time. I just to get away from the marketplace. I mean, I have no reason to fear anything from Mogrul, but he's simply so large that one can't help being apprehensive.
The priest Othreloth is in a better mood this time and confesses that they have problems with the dead who won't stay dead. I can't believe my ears. Here too? But don't the elves burn their dead rather than store corpses on shelves? That's right, explains Othreloth, but some evil force is causing ash-spawns to arise from the ashes. That's why he'd be really grateful if we, mighty heroes as we are, would find a little time to go to the funeral hall and kill those monsters.
I refrain from pointing out that killing the ash-spawns will be of little use if new ones keep emerging. I just go in with my followers.
It's a good fight. The ash-spawns are not too strong – you put 3 or 4 arrows into one and he's dead. From behind, even one might suffice. But they rise up in surprising places and sometimes you kill one and two seconds later another one begins to rise up from the same place. To be frightened like that, while knowing that you're generally safe, is a thrill unlike hardly anything else. All four of us get to shriek our fair share and then some. What luck that no man is witnessing us act like that! This is one of those moments when I'm infinitely happy that all my followers are female.
When we report to the priest, he looks delighted and, apart from the modest monetary reward, he even shares some of the principles of his religion with us the uninitiated. The other man in the temple, his disciple Galdrus, remains unamicable and unwelcoming. It's a real pity, because he looks really interesting and I'd love to get better acquainted with him in proper light – or maybe even in darkness. But we're persuasively advised to leave the premises.
Evening has fallen. Traders are still on the marketplace, but most customers are gone. Geldis Sadri's inn is doing excellent business, though. Is it just me or have unusually many people come here in the hope of seeing us, the pretty heroes from Skyrim? Veleth is not among them, though, so I strike up a conversation with Dreyla, the shopkeeper's daughter who fantasizes about travels. She has taken a liking in me. While my girls are mingling with the opposite sex, Dreyla and I chatter the evening away in a somewhat quieter corner.
When Dreyla wants to go to sleep, I accompany her, leaving my followers to their amusements. Having wished my friend good night in front of her father's house, I proceed to my house.
As I'm lying in my bed, the image of Storn rises up in my mind's eye. What he said about Herma-Mora having always been their enemy. Always...
Suddenly I think: what if Hora is the enemy of the Skaal people not because He wants to steal their secrets? What might be the reason He has always been their enemy?
Remember that Hora hungers for any kind of knowledge. Could it be the Skaal people disapprove of the principle of wanting to know as much as possible? Maybe they hold that there's knowledge that is not good for the people and has therefore to be kept from them? Could this be why they hate Hora who is, essentially, the embodiment of the desire to learn everything there is?
It's unlikely anyone can answer me that question. With the possible exception of Hora himself.
At any rate, these words of Storn have been echoing in my mind the last two days:
"Value to him?" You don't get it Storn, do you? Knowledge is valuable to Hora in its own right. He doesn't live in our world, so He doesn't care how fancy a house He can buy and how many servants He can hire. When you say "value to Him", you actually mean "value to the average human being", and you don't realize that the two are not the same thing. Owning stuff doesn't make Hora happy. Knowing stuff does.
Come to think of it, Storn was being outright ridiculous when he said:
Merely??
This sounds like "the bandit swinging his axe at you merely increases your desire to defend yourself" or "lack of food merely increases your desire to still your hunger".
Storn was a fearless and resourceful leader, but he was also very narrow-minded.
The more I ponder it, the less I believe Hora was really angry with Bastaard for wanting to rule Solstheim. Bastaard's ruling Solstheim wouldn't have crossed Hora's interests in any way. I rather think Hora sacrificed Bastaard because that was the way for Him to get His hands on the Skaal secrets. The show with killing Bastaard as if in fury He put up only for my benefit – to make sure I'll fear Him and be obedient, should He ever require my services.
Of course, Hora must never know I saw through His game and guessed His true intentions.
I feel I'm falling asleep. Good night!
next awakening
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