———————————————
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.
———————————————
previous day
4-202-02-11 04:44
Silver-Blood Inn, Morpork, The Reach, Skyrim
I go to enjoy the luxurious bathroom. Soon my followers turn up one after another.
Having eaten a leisurely breakfast, we stroll past Lisbet's shop and up the eastern side of the canal. There have been rumors about a mysterious abandoned house halfway from here to the palace and I want to check it out.
We find a mysterious house all right, but it's locked and I can't pick the lock. So we just walk on. We see a young Argonian man standing in front of a house near the palace entrance looking unhappy. (I mean, it's hard to tell an Argonian's age, but he looks hardly even my age.) We stop to ask what's his name and how he's doing. He says he's name is Ut-Keen and he's sad, because he applied for a vacancy in the Fortune's Trading House (the door to which is the one we're standing in front of), but they wouldn't have him.
A trading house? That's fantastic news! Marveling at the locked door (it's not even 7 o'clock yet) and wondering what may be waiting behind it, I absent-mindedly promise the youngster I'll try to help him if I can.
I invite him to walk with us. We go into the palace and admire the sights. I had never before noticed how cool those Dwemer statues actually looked in this cavern.
Then we walk to the western side of the city, climb up to the Guard Tower and enjoy the view.
When we figure it's late enough, we return to the trading house by a route past the mine and the inn. Ut-Keen remains outside when me and my followers go in.
In a big room from which doors go in three directions, there's a man who is burning. I mean, the back of his head and clothes seriously look like covered with little flames which don't seem to cause him any distress whatsoever. His name is Uthor and he is specialized on everything that has something to do with fire. Not only does he not deny he's a pyromaniac, he has even developed a philosophy according to which when you set a house on fire, it's the fire's fault and not yours. Maybe his brain is overheated? I remember vaguely that a mage or a priest told me a long time ago it can be life-threatening when the temperature of your brain gets too high.
Well, mad as Uthor may be, he's a vendor selling fire-related things from charcoal to the Staff of Firebolts .
The room to the right is a dormitory. The door to the left evidently leads to the boss's office. Before going there, I check out the door straight ahead.
Our jaws drop when we step over the threshold. This is like the Cloudrest Underground Market, only in a much smaller space.
There are three vendors. A Redguard woman Seline sells books and she talks about them with such passion that I end up actually buying one. Next to his stall stands Zeugini, reading a book. I ask him if it's not too uncomfortable in this light. Just to say something. He mumbles it's okay and goes back to reading. I'm not sure if he's a guard, customer or an errand boy.
The next vendor is Morilla, a High Elf. She sells special cider made from special apples brought from Summerset.
However, the most special thing about her is her cheerful personality. It's not often one meets a High Elf who is a warm and kind person. Morilla is making this whole room shine. Even her cider is good. I usually don't drink cider, but I'm buying some of hers. I can obviously afford it many times over.
The third vendor is Kjorn who is reputed to be the best cook in the city. Jenassa and Lydia remember to have heard the name talked about. He says his wife was an even better cook, but he went to fight for the storks and never returned. His heart was bleeding, but he meekly "accepted her decision". Another one of those poor, stupid men who don't realize no halfway normal woman walks away from an even halfway decent man for a political cause. When your woman tells you she has decided to go to pursue something that is vitally important to her, it's a signal to you to tell her you love her and you don't want her to leave. But it's obviously much too late for Kjorn to do that, which is why I refrain from enlightening him.
Now, girls, you can stay here and enjoy yourselves and keep away from Zeugini, while I go to that last room.
Behind a large desk, on which are a business ledger and a large sweet roll (seriously? Don't tell me you were expecting me), sits a gray-haired but otherwise not at all old-looking man.
He invites me to buy some gemstones and when I politely decline, he answers my questions about his enterprise. They have recently arrived and are making good money. When I ask him why have almost all the other traders in the city ceased their activities, Fortune acts like he doesn't understand what I'm talking about. Well, what about the Silver-Bloods? He lowers his voice and replies we'd better not talk about them. If you ask me, he doesn't seem afraid at all. I'm having the feeling he uses their vile reputation as an excuse to avoid sharing with me what he knows about the other merchants.
When I bring up Ut-Keen, Fortune says that they need indeed to replace one of their traders who went missing, but the unfortunate candidate is lacking one vital qualification – luck. Namely, Fortune tossed a coin with him and Ut-Keen lost. That, concluded Fortune, proved Ut-Keen was not lucky, and he can't hire someone who lacks luck.
Now, I know a thing or two about logic and probabilities and luck. If you tossed a coin, say, 300 times, and someone guessed wrong 200 times, that would mean he's unlucky. But to judge upon someone's luckiness based on one throw only is sheer folly.
When I tell that to Fortune, he suggests that I do something useful for his company, and then he'll reconsider the case of Ut-Keen.
I don't care too much about Ut-Keen, but I wouldn't mind some interesting challenges for a change. And most importantly, I need to find out what the hell is going on in this city, and I'm pretty certain there are some secrets hidden behind the friendly faces of that "Fortune" and his fellow traders. So by all means, count me in.
I exit Fortune's office and walk from guard to trader to visitor, asking everyone if there's anything they need help with.
Uthor, the pyromaniac, asks me "Have you ever loved someone so much that you pushed him away?"
Are you insane? That's obvious nonsense – like "Have you ever been so hungry that you refused all food?" or "Has anyone ever drowned on top of the highest mountain in the world?"
Oh... I already knew he was insane, didn't I?
So I just reply I haven't. Can't be too careful with madmen. Well, Uthor goes on feeding my ears with crazy blabber that is so full of logical contradictions that it burns my brain like... I don't know, fire? To cut the long story short, he ends up begging me to go and talk to his ex-girlfriend Elle on his behalf.
What use can a woman have for a man who doesn't know how to talk to her and yet is so obsessed he can't go on with his life without her? I mean, if he would at least tell me what happened between them, I could give him some advice, but he just locks me out of his mind insisting that I go and talk to Elle. In fact he looks like he'll start screaming any moment, and for that matter I'm not all that interested in teaching wimps how to become men. That said, there's no reason why I couldn't go and have a chat with that woman.
As for here and now, I'm completely at loss for words. I can't even give Uthor that horrible recommendation "Set yourself on fire!" (a curse popular with some evil people I've forgotten where) because, as you remember, he already is burning all over. So I just shrug and walk away, forcing a smile onto my face as I step through the door into the main trading hall. Chin up, Laura! It can only get better from here.
The book trader Seline tells me she's heard a rumor there's a rare book on sale in Windhelm. She asks me to go and have a look.
Well, all right – I'll buy the book if I think it's genuine, but don't blame me if my expertise turns out subpar.
The joyful High Elf Morilla asks me if I'm a friend of the thalmors. I can't bring myself to saying anything but "no". I suppress the urge to hug Morilla when she says she isn't either. She has a shipment from Summerset held in Solitud and she believes it's the work of a thalmor official Inuril who hates her. Sure, I can go and have a look. I refrain from informing Morilla that I know someone else in Solitud who holds shipments for hostage to extort money from traders. Morilla doesn't need to know everything. I'll just get her merchandise back from whoever may have it.
Morilla looks left and right, lowers her voice and tells me she won't mind if Inuril dies. I wonder what he did to her. This is clearly about more than business. Hope I can find out someday.
The food vendor Kjorn has a very different kind of a problem: skeevers in his cellar. He is unfortunate to blab out that he actually fed them after he found out their meat was surprisingly delicious.
I'm not sure if this is more horrendous or hilarious. He bred skeevers, and now that he can no longer control them, he wants me to kill them for him. Well, I shall certainly leave him some time to reflect upon what he has done.
Now, me and my followers go out and admire the beautiful sight of the Temple of Dibella.
We are in complete agreement that this trading house was a magnificently lucky find and it makes this city a much nicer place.
After a quick visit to the palace to verify the jarl and the steward still aren't working, we set out to explore the southern bank of the river outside the city entrance.
There is nothing there between the city proper and the Left Hand Mine suburb.
In case you haven't been to an iron mine, this is what an iron ore vein looks like.
From then on, it gets interesting. I mean, if you're an enthusiast of dangerous rock-climbing. We generally move southeast, trying to ascend the mountains here and there. The views are stunning at times, as well as a tiny bit worrying when I think that we are supposed to somehow make our way back down there before it gets dark.
I try to put it out of my thoughts and focus on moving forward.
About halfway between Morpork and Dushnikh Yal (for which we are generally headed), we discover a large complex of massive stone staircases and statues.
We kill half a dozen forns who are clearly understaffed for guarding a compound of this size. There are sleeping mats here and the sun is going down, but I feel reluctant to interrupt this fascinating exploration trip. Let's hope we'll find a place to sleep further east.
It seems we've come as high as gods would let humans ascend in this region. To our south, almost vertical walls of rock with a few miserable bushes rise high into the skies. To the east, the mountains begin to gradually get lower. After a not too dangerous descent, we discover Forgotten Ruins. This must be the place I heard about in Hviterun a long time ago where "riches beyond imagining" await the one who finds the missing brother of a certain Cassia. As I've told you, I don't believe in those riches, so we're not even going in.
We'll now have to descend a high riverbank and swim across.
Yeah, wade rather. The water turns out, like, chest-deep at worst.
On the other side, there's fortunately a pretty comfortable path uphill. A brief hike to the east-southeast, and we find ourselves in front of a Gate to Hammerfell.
Wow. After our frustrating failure to get to Hammerfell from southwestern Falkreath, we have now found another border crossing and this one is actually functional. However, our situation is very different from what it was back then. As you know, peace talks should start in High Hrothgar soon, so this is definitely not the time for us to venture into another country. (FYI, Hammerfell became independent of the Empire after the The Great War and is claimed by Aldmeri Dominion.)
Jenassa exclaims there's a sheet of paper nailed to the wall. Stepping closer, she announces disappointedly that it's blank. I stretch out my hand and she gives it to me. What do you mean, it's blank? There's writing on it. Lydia and Jordis look over my shoulders and say it's an empty sheet of white paper. Oh well, magic again. A letter that only I can read. Which is not too surprising, because it's addressed to the Dragonborn. That'll be me, I suppose.
In other words, someone left a letter for me in this place that's as remote as a location in Skyrim can possibly be. Am I then to presume somebody knew I was coming here? Is there someone lying in wait to ambush us? I can't sense anything, at least not on this side of the gate.
The girls ask me impatiently what does it say in the letter. Right, the letter! I read it out loud. It says (after a cheesy praise of my great and noble deeds) that Hammerfell has been invaded by the Aldmeri Dominion and needs my help urgently. Well, tough shit. They shouldn't have rejected me six weeks ago. Right now I have the Skyrim civil war to take care of. Apart from which, I've told you several months ago about a dream I had where I was in a desolate region in Hammerfell whose population seemed to consist of little more than drug dealers and drug addicts hating all the foreigners. Jenassa confirmed subsequently that large parts of Hammerfell are indeed like that. If that kind of scum is being attacked, I don't see how I could help them defend themselves, and if the Aldmeri Dominion wants to rule over that cloaca, I don't envy them.
At any rate, a war against the Aldmeri Dominion is just too serious for me to get involved in without consulting at least Jarl Balgruuf. And maybe Yrsarald. And Falk, I suppose.
At this moment, however, we have a dilemma to solve that is rather more immediate. It's almost dark. I can barely see to read the mysterious letter. Mountain climbing in this light would be suicidal. Which means we have to find lodging for the night. The Orc village Dushnikh Yal is not far, but I don't think they have guest quarters. We could go back to Forgotten Ruins and see if we can sleep there. However, since we're at this border crossing already, we can take a look at the other side. There may be a settlement nearby and we may be able to spend the night there and maybe get some information about the situation in Hammerfell and bring it to High Hrothgar where some of the most important decision-makers of Skyrim would be all in one place at the same time. Staying the night on the other side of this border crossing, we'll surely be able to return to Skyrim in the morning.
We go through the gate.
Nearby is indeed a settlement. It's called Dragonstar.
There are only three people in the entire town. Their attire resembles those alikr warriors we've been seeing in Skyrim.
The men tell us the population has already been evacuated. Indeed, we can see that even the house doors are nailed shut. No chance of lodging for four travelers. Most disappointing! We wouldn't have stolen anything, honestly.
We return to Skyrim and travel to Forgotten Ruins. It's a Dwemer ruin and there are indeed some places soft enough for sleeping there and it's sheltered from rain, so we'll spend the night here.
next awakening
return to the table of contents
