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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
4-202-04-09 03:47
Shaman's Hut, Skaal, Solstheim, Morrowind
At this hour, the area south of Skaal is completely dark like the Winterhold region. Only with the help of my Circlet of Night Eye are we able to see where we're going:
...more or less.
Bujold's camp is not far. A few people are already awake (or maybe keeping nightwatch which is of course a very sensible thing to do around here) and they're enthusiastic to attack Thirsk with our help. So is Bujold whom we find in her tent too restless to be able to sleep. It would of course be preferable to have her well-rested before a battle as important as this, but we can't do anything about that now.
At least this early in the morning we have a good chance of catching the enemy unawares. While Bujold explains the attack plan to her companions, I suddenly recall one of our numerous encounters with virrs in Skyrim:
We are certainly not going to follow that rule here. But then of course it's clear the virrs mean "light" in the figurative sense, as the good, whereas "dark" means evil.
I wonder: if there were any virrs in Solstheim, would they help us against the Rieklings? Probably not. Virrs hunt down the undead, but the Rieklings are quite flesh-and-blood, simply different from us humans. Something like giants or goblins, only smaller and much more aggressive.
Huh? Yes, Bujold, we're ready. Let's go.
Thirsk is a large wooden building on the southern shore of a small lake. They have sentries outside, but most occupants are sleeping inside. Thanks to that, we win easily, even though the battle gets a bit nastily chaotic.
They have turned the hall and the siderooms into a big Riekling camp with their characteristic tents and things.
Bloodthirsty savages as they may have repeatedly proven themselves to be, I must say I do feel a little sorry for them. Yet, remembering that cute little human child in Skaal, I still believe we did the right thing.
This is not over yet, though. Bujold asks me to come outside. She informs me she has to go to a place called Hrothmund's Barrow in the northern part of the island and perform some kind of an ancient ritual to ask forgiveness for her failure to defend Thirsk, and she'll need a trustworthy outsider as a witness.
No, I can't be bothered with that. All I wanted was to diminish the threat of Riekling attacks on human settlements and that goal has been achieved. If Bujold needs something sorted out with the gods, then it's none of my concern.
Bujold gets indignant, as well as insolent, but I'm unmoved. I summon my followers and we head south.
The depressing dark night is turning into a beautiful winter morning. On pursuit of the next Deathbrand artifact, we run past that ash-spawn fortress where we killed that 200-year-old undead general a long time ago. Between Tel Mithryn and Silt Strider Port, we are fortunate enough to be attacked by a couple of mages who thereby lead us to the hiding place of the last piece of Deathbrand armor. It's in a chest which also contains a key that is supposed to open something in a place called Gyldenhul Barrow on an island east of Skaal.
I've little interest in that. We travel to Kolbjorn Barrow south of Ravenrock instead.
It's a large stone circle in the ground surrounded by a few remains of columns and such. There's an elven man named Ralis. Apparently he came here to earn a load of cash by retrieving a certain rare and valuable artifact for some fat cat (I mean, a rich person) collectioner, only to find the entrance to the treasure trove buried under sand. He's appalled, because he would have to waste time on excavations, as well as spend money to hire workers. He would need 1000 septims, but he hasn't so much.
Now, I could easily throw away a thousand septims, but I don't like that jerk's attitude. That's why I just give a sign to my girls and we return to Ravenrock.
We don't have anything important to do in Solstheim anymore. Sofie is, however, categorically against returning to Windhelm so soon. She says she feels so happy here.
I ask her if she'd perhaps like to stay. Yes, she would, but not without me.
In that case we'll have to leave Solstheim for now, sad as it may be.
During our rounds saying goodbye to our friends, Sofie informs me Mogrul likes me. "Yes, I've noticed," I reply drily. Sofie says he's really nice, and Orc men like women who are good fighters, as someone told her back in Windhelm.
Oh, thank you very much. I'll keep it in mind. ;-)
The trip takes a lot less than the last time. Sailing during daytime goes faster, the sailors explain us, because you can actually see where you're going and won't have to rely on magic – and go very slowly because the seamen don't in fact really trust magic.
"Always walk in the dark," I say, "because if you run, you might trip and hurt yourself."
Everybody finds it hilarious, except Sofie whom I have to explain about the Vigilants of Stendarr.
Shorter as the trip may be, it still leaves the girls and me plenty of time to discuss our plans. We were going to Riften, but I'm having second thoughts. How about we head west instead and check out that Cave of Borea?
My followers remind me that the area is very difficult to access from the east. Finally I come to the decision that we'll go south as planned, and visit the Cave of Borea only upon returning to Hviterun eventually.
My heart is heavy as we approach Windhelm. I ask the first guard if Yrsarald has returned. No, he hasn't. They don't have any news either. The guard's reaction shows I must look really frantic. He sounds sincerely compassionate when he tells me not to worry, Yrsarald will be fine.
Then we enter the city proper.
No, but I know someone who does. She must be... yeah, there she is. Come along, I'll introduce you.
We don't spend much time in the city, but I do find a book that tells about an ancient Ayleid city, near which was something profoundly evil, and one day the city disappeared. It's presumed to be underground somewhere in a certain less explored region of Cyrodiil. It's fascinating.
We say goodbye to Sofie and her new friend, and head south. There is slight snowfall and the scenery leaves something to be desired, but we feel energetic even though I may be somewhat downcast because of my misfortune with Yrsarald.
In Kynesgrove, we speak a word or two to some passersby and step briefly into the inn. The snowfall ceases gradually as we travel on southwards.
We make a slight detour to go and say hello to Billy. Past Vernim Wood, we meet an Orc skooma seller. Without bothering to get some distance and shoot an arrow into his back, I just pull out a sword and inform him that trade in narcotic drugs is no longer tolerated in Skyrim. Then I kill him.
Shor is very calm and beautiful. There is nothing like a snowfall this far south. We while briefly in the soothing company of men sitting around that big campfire, and then we proceed to Riften. We bring Mjoll her precious sword.
Our other tasks will have to wait until tomorrow because, firstly, it's very late, and secondly, Madesi wants me. I tell him I'm exhausted, so please no acrobatic positions tonight.
Afterwards, we go to sleep quickly without speaking much.
next awakening
