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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
4-202-02-18 12:37
Worker's House, Mixwater Mill, Eastmarch, Skyrim
Gilfre is kind enough to give us the permission to have slept in her empty workers' house last night for the modest fee of 25 septims per person. She is enduring the economic hardships bravely, but one can see the lack of workers is tough on her. Therefore, I wouldn't mind giving her more money, but that good woman refuses it resolutely.
We run along the scenic highway towards Hviterun
One of my swords has a most amazing enchantment – with every hit, there is a certain probability
a magic cage will be created around the enemy for 5 minutes. This is the first time I've been able to see it in action.
Now I have plenty of time to get my bow and shoot the bandit dead from where he can't reach me with his sword.
a magic cage will be created around the enemy for 5 minutes. This is the first time I've been able to see it in action.
Now I have plenty of time to get my bow and shoot the bandit dead from where he can't reach me with his sword.
Between Valtheim and Hviterun, I'm surprised to notice a path that goes to our left, leading up to a wide stone staircase. We've always missed it the previous times. There are strange lines and dots painted on the steps.
Having walked up the stairs, we can see a path leading further uphill to some ruins. There are brown and gray stones with similar yellow markings as well as a couple of giants. They can be seen in this picture if you look very closely:
Rather than disturb them, we go back down and proceed towards Hviterun.
Speaking of giants, I've decided to do the Largashbur quest after all. That's the Orc village which giants have been attacking. I've been reluctant to help the Orcs kill giants, but now I'm having second thoughts. I've realized that wrong as it may be to kill a giant just because he steals an odd cow, it's not right to allow giants to attack people. This is not about taking sides, Orcs vs. giants, this is about helping the victim defeat the aggressor.
But that's in the future. Right now we're headed for the other end of Skyrim as planned.
Reaching the outskirts of Hviterun a little past 3 in the afternoon, we pay a visit to the Honningbrew Meadery to give Sabjorn the good news. I think I will hardly surprise you if I tell you he is delighted to learn that with Maven Black-Briar dead, he can now focus on producing good mead rather than worry about getting assassinated or having his meadery burned down.
We have so much time that I wonder if we should go into the city and do some shopping. We don't really want to start shooting people in Morpork in daylight, do we? Although I'm in fact very inclined to go to the Morpork palace and kill those Silver-Blood rats in plain view of all the people, as well as all the guards who may have the nerve to defend them. All the Morpork guards are Silver-Blood hoods anyway. But I'm not going to do that. I'm responsible enough to realize that in the current delicate situation I have to be as diplomatic as possible. So I shall hunt the Silver-Bloods down at night.
Meaning, we'll need to kill some time, and Hviterun is a place as good as any for that. And my followers remind me I might want to keep Jarl Balgruuf informed of what's going on.
Of course! Let's go. We'll stay in Hviterun for a few hours.
After we've come out of Cyrelas's shop (see picture above) and are walking up the stairs towards the eastern city gate, I suddenly exclaim: "Wait!"
The girls stop and look around, confused. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the people are peacefully going about their business.
I must laugh when I see my followers' faces. "No, it's nothing like that. I know my mother's name."
Lydia makes an impatient gesture with her chin when I fall silent for a couple of seconds.
"My mother's name is Frohilde. Her father was Valgeir Snow-Walker."
"Was he someone important because he's got a family name?" asks Lydia.
"I've no idea."
"Not necessarily," says Jenassa. "If her family lived in Morrowind as Laura believes to remember, it makes sense they kept their family name."
"Yes, and I don't think they were in any way important. Just simple villagers," I confirm.
"Besides, I've never heard the name Snow-Walker," says Jenassa.
"So your mother is Frohilde Valgeirsdotter Snow-Walker?" asks Jordis.
"No. That's what she was before she got married. Currently she has my father's family name which I don't remember."
"What about your father's first name?" asks Lydia.
I look pensively at the house roofs and shake my head. "Nothing yet. Let's go."
The gate, as you may remember, is behind Jorrvaskr, and I'm always a little apprehensive walking around that ship-shaped building that hides a terrible secret I quite accidentally found out about. There is no one training behind the house this time. We descend the staircase towards Heimskr's preaching spot. He sounds even more energetic than usual, and actually joyful. And before I even realize what hit me, my stepdaughter Lucia and her friend Mila are hugging me. I inform them I'll need to do something top secret in the palace, something to do with the recently ended horrible war, but I'll be with them soon. I instruct my followers to go amuse themselves, and wave to Ysolda who is on her way to the palace. She comes to greet us and then walks up the stairs with me.
Ysolda is very excited about the peace as well as relieved to see I'm all right. She says she has been afraid that something might have happened to me. I get a smile out of her by saying: "Oh, don't worry, I still have every chance to get killed." I think Ysolda believes the same thing I believe – that somehow the gods are protecting me. But I'm going to be as cautious as I can all the same.
The steward Proventus is out on some business, but I fill the jarl and the wizard Farengar in on the recent developments and show them both Tullius's order on Maven Black-Briar's arrest and Yrsarald's order for all the Stormcloak troops to refrain from hostilities. Balgruuf and Farengar look like they're unsure what to be more shocked about: that the assassin actually succeeded in making it to the Windhelm palace and murdering Ulfric, or that the Dominion has started a new war. I can't avoid telling them I'm going to exterminate the Silver-Blood mafia as well, but in all likelihood the Imperial Army will remain keeping the public order in The Rift and the Stormcloak Army in The Reach for the time being. I keep quiet about the thalmors' secret base in Fort Masser.
When Farengar walks me to the door, he asks if I have any idea about the military situation in Hammerfell. I say: none whatsoever. In all likelihood I'll go there after consulting with Tullius after I've taken care of things in Morpork. However, I'm having little faith in the Hammerfell fighters. (Oops! Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I need to spread hope in Skyrim, not panic.)
Farengar's words give me an idea. Remember, I told you, a couple of weeks ago I asked Danica the priestess of Kynareth about possibilities of recovering my memory about my family and such. Unsurprisingly, I found out it's extremely difficult. But what about my shorter-term memory – about the Staff of Magnus ? I ask Farengar if there's a spell that could help me remember whom I sold a powerful magical item to a couple of months ago. Or any other method of finding it out that doesn't involve dealing with Hermaeus Mora.
Farengar tells me there is, but there's a catch. The longer the event lies back, the older the mage who helps me has to be. If the mage is too young, it won't work. With an interval as long as a couple of months, there is no chance Farengar could do it. It would at least have to be an elf. Or maybe Runil of Falkert. I'd have to go and ask him myself. And if it's really very important and if I feel really bold, Farengar says, I could take my chances with Sybille of Solitud.
I keep my excitement in reins. Of course Farengar can't know I'm good friends with Sybille, and he doesn't need to know.
There's another catch, Farengar says. The mage who'll help me might get to know any number of random things about my actions and thoughts, usually from the time close to the memory-to-be-recovered. That's why he would advise against turning to Urag of Winterhold who, as Farengar puts it, knows dangerously much already and there's no way of knowing what interests he may be pursuing.
I thank Farengar and walk to the marketplace. I catch Lucia and Mila near The Drunken Huntsman inn and we sit a while on the steps and talk. I have to remember not to call it The Drunken Husband in front of children, lest they too start calling it that and Elrindir will feel offended.
Sunsets are always so beautiful in this region, but I can't stay to enjoy this one. It's time for me and my followers to get going. I'd much rather remain chilling here with my friends and the kids than travel to Morpork, but I have an important job to do.
The weather is beautiful and we're thoroughly enjoying the sights along the road, even in the foggy Reach. We arrive in Morpork a little after 9 in the evening. After talking a word or two to one or another person at the inn, we pay a visit to Fortune's Tradehouse. They're already sleeping, but Morilla is very happy to hear that her enemy is dead. I've got to make her talk someday about what happened between them, but tonight is not the time. Oh, and her shipment of special Summerset apples has arrived from Solitud without any problems.
Selina accepts my explanation that the book that elven woman in Windhelm was selling was obviously fake. She promises me a discount on all her books as a reward.
It's a little past 11. I think a perfect way to spend an hour or two is by killing those skeevers in Kjorn's cellar. The so-called jarl will surely be asleep by the time we're done.
The cellar is connected to a moderately extensive dungeon. There are many skeevers there who are really tough to kill as well as stink to high heaven (or more precisely to the cellar trapdoor). In the last cave we find a Khajiit who seems to have been guiding those skeevers. What a madhouse Kjorn has gotten himself into! At any rate, his cellar ought to be safe now, even though it'll smell horrible for some time to come.
Now it's 1 o'clock in the night. We go to the palace. There are guards everywhere as well as dogs, but no sign of any Silver-Bloods.
I meant the dogs kept by the kitchen staff who have always been hanging around here.
They don't look too scary, but I imagine they'll be able to bark loudly enough, should anything strange happen.
They don't look too scary, but I imagine they'll be able to bark loudly enough, should anything strange happen.
All bedrooms are empty. I mean, the servants are sleeping in their quarters and so is the blacksmith with his wife and assistant, but there's no one in the bedrooms of the jarl, the steward and the housecarl. We check out the treasury where at least one of the Silver-Blood brothers used to reside with his wife and servants, but there's not a living soul there, just a modest amount of money in the safe which I appropriate.
We go to the silver mine next. The outside guards have been replaced by Stormcloaks, but Silver-Blood gang members are still guarding inside. We kill them all.
As I've told you, the Cidhna Mine is this city's equivalent of a prison. All criminals as well as people undesirable for the Silver-Bloods are used as slave labor to mine silver ore.
We use the keys taken from the dead guards to enter the mine and talk to the prisoners.
We've taken off our helmets to be less intimidating. Therefore, he thinks we are prisoners.
They don't know anything about what's going on outside. It seems to me that most of them are really nasty characters who are better kept away from the decent people.
"They" means Nords.
Maybe the nicer prisoners die more easily? But I've no time to dwell on such things now. We go back out, lock up the mine behind us, and proceed to the Guard Tower where we eventually find the local Stormcloak commander. He says he hasn't seen the jarl since yesterday morning. He doesn't care much what the city administration may be up to, he just keeps public order. I show him Yrsarald's letter and ask him to continue keeping public order as well as make sure that the prisoners in Cidhna Mine are being fed now that the owners of the mine have apparently scarpered. I inform him that it's possible that Jarl Igmund is going to return, but it shouldn't make any difference now. With the new war with the thalmors on our doorstep, both the Stormcloaks and the Imperial troops are equally soldiers of Skyrim.
The commander assures me that I'm going to have his full cooperation. In fact, I'm playing with the thought of taking with me a group of Stormcloaks from Morpork and attack Fort Masser on my way to Solitud, but then I decide to stick to my original plan after all – firstly because that's what I've agreed upon with Tullius and secondly because his regular army may have fortress infiltration and demolition experts much better than the Stormcloak rebels.
Now, would you believe if I told you it's morning already?
We go again to the palace and the treasury house and there are still no traces of any Silver-Blood gang members. Considering how little money there was in that safe in the treasury, it would seem that the gangsters somehow got wind of what was awaiting them and left the city for good.
I wonder if a Silver-Blood spy overheard my conversation with Yrsarald and ran to Morpork while we were sleeping at Mixwater Mill. Got to ask Yrsarald if any of the palace personnel has gone missing.
My followers point out that it's much more likely that the spy came from Solitud.
Right. Whichever way it may have been, there's nothing else for us to do right now but to go to the inn and get some sleep. We won't achieve anything stumbling on our feet with our eyes falling shut.
next awakening
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