Showing posts with label Ivarsted. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ivarsted. Show all posts

2021-04-26

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (254) Revealing and Stimulating



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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






4-202-04-30 06:26
Jerall View Inn, Bruma, Bruma County, Cyrodiil



I had a dream at night about what happened just after I had arrived in Skyrim from Hammerfell. As I told you a few days ago, I was caught by a group of Stormcloaks led by Ulfric. The Imperials' scout party led by Tullius had a mage with them. When they recognized Ulfric, the mage cast a special spell (maybe a kind of ward; I don't know really) to prevent Ulfric from using his deadly shout on them. When Ulfric unsuspectingly attempted just that, his shout knocked out everyone in our group instead. And the mage. But not the Imperial soldiers, because they were neither in the immediate vicinity of Ulfric nor magically connected to him through the spell. Tullius ordered them to bind Ulfric's mouth. He decided the capture of the enemy leader was important enough to take a break from their search for the Dragonborn. (He had no reason to suspect I was it, and the mage who might have was out cold.) So they requisitioned a couple of horsecarts from the village of Pinewood and Tullius rode ahead to Helgen to make preparations for the execution. That's where his regional headquarters was. Helgen was the best-fortified settlement far and wide, with the possible exception of Northkeep whose population's loyalty was questionable, though.

As concerns Lokir, he just happened to be in the area. He noticed how the Imperials left their horses at the roadside southwest of Pinewood and tried to steal one of them, but got caught.

Why was I the only one to get amnesia, you may ask. I don't know. Maybe the gods wanted to prevent the Imperial mage, after he would come to, from reading my mind and learning I was Dragonborn. But I'm only guessing.

That was the dream. In the real world I have a bath and breakfast (yes, preceded by the inevitable morning sex), after which the merry company of me, my followers, our boyfriends Dar'taqto, Ambric, Gryfard and Roland, and our friends Janieta, Ila, Rilja, Eddvia and Hulgard walks out the northern city gate.
very high mountains beyond a spruce forest, sky full of light gray clouds
The sugary mountain far beyond Rielle seems particularly beautiful to me this morning.

It fills me with joy that we're having such fine weather on our hike towards the Pale Pass.

We step briefly in to the Snowstone Rest inn to say goodbye, and do the same at the Fort Pale Pass. Then we all hug farewell and me and my girls cross the border. Everything is peaceful on the other side for a change. The Thalmor Checkpoint is securely in Imperial hands. The weather is still nice when we reach Fort Neugrad. The soldiers are kept very busy with drills and such, so we feel a little silly just idling around, which is why we move on soon towards the Falkreath Stormcloak Camp. A snowfall starts before we reach it.

Passing by Haemar's Shame on our way to The Rift, I think why not go in and kill the bandits while we're here. Turns out there are actually vampires in there. At the farther end is a hall with a large statue of a man and a dog. It's Clavicus Vile, as I already know from our trip to Summerset.

We go out again and proceed eastwards through the mountain pass. Our first destination on the eastern side of the mountains is The Naked Dragon Riften.

When I tell the doorkeeper who I am and that we want to search their establishment for any possible traces of Maven Black-Briar, he asks me to wait and calls the proprietress, a middle-aged woman. She insists they would never harbor any criminals, but realizes I won't be stopped.

This brothel is somewhat less stunning than the one in Markarth. It's very roomy. There's a hall with a large bar. A passage leads to another hall with many plants and girls and stuff. Um... let me rephrase that. Or, well, you get the idea. What's really important is that they openly sell skooma here. With a very authoritative air, I order a servant to summon the proprietress again. She seems to sense by the look on my face that this is serious. Indeed, it is. I inform her that skooma is now prohibited in Skyrim. Should any be found here on one of the subsequent inspections, the proprietress and any number of highest-ranking employees present will be executed and the brothel itself given to new proprietors, unless it turns out the ostensible offence was really somebody's malicious provocation. Right now, she will get away by handing me over all the skooma and in addition paying its 10-fold sales value as a fine.

She doesn't even look too angry. I guess she's smart enough to realize when she's trapped. Or the business is so profitable that this fine doesn't matter much. I don't care. I just take the money and I'll bring to to Yrsarald.

Then we take a tour of the rear part of the establishment. Of course, there aren't many customers this early.
[series of 5 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then press the right arrow to see the next picture etc.; press  Esc to return to the text]





Compared to the Markarth branch, the girls look somewhat less happy and eager here. But I might be mistaken. I'm really no expert on prostitute psychology.

Back in the open air, in the midst of birches and birdsong, I decide we shall not make a detour via Riften. We'll travel straight to the north-northeast towards Mixwater Mill and Windhelm. More precisely, we're going to Ivarsted first.

I have promised in the past I'll make time to talk about Fastred's relationship prospects and such with her and Lynly. (She has decided to stick with this name, because her real name Svidi would remind her too much of her former life she wants to leave behind.) This is what we're going to do now. Wilhelm kindly allows Lynly to take the evening off and we walk around on this and the other side of the river.
evening, low wooden fence on the bank of a torrential river, a small wooden house on the other bank
That's the house of Temba who owns the sawmill you can see in the next picture.

Now, I am ready to take Fastred to Riften or Hviterun any moment, but the other girls argue that her parents need her. They would probably be able to take care of the farm without her for some years to come, but obviously not forever. I remain unshakable. It's their own fault they haven't made more children, and it's the normal, expectable course of things that a girl leaves home and moves away with her husband. No needs of her parents can justify Fastred's remaining without children forever. However, the others (most importantly Fastred herself) disagree with me. Only Jordis seems ambivalent.

Now, what prospects may she have in Ivarsted? Lynly thinks Klimmek is in love with Fastred. It's the guy who brings supplies to the Gaybores every week or so. He has a most curious amulet that keeps the trolls from attacking him. But that's neither here nor there. The important thing is he seems awfully old to me. I refrain from saying so, in case Fastred should fancy her. But the main problem is that he seems too shy to actually approach Fastred and chat her up. And that's something we can't do on his behalf.

So we fail to come to any conclusion.

a wooden walkway leads across a river, a watermill and wooden houes ahead, bog moon in the clear sky
To our left is the ruined shack where the unfortunate madman Narfi lives.
We're not dropping in to say hello. The sight of six young women might be too much for him.

At 9 o'clock Fastred has to return home. Lydia asks me where in Skyrim I was actually headed when I came from Hammerfell eight months ago.
"Winterhold," I reply. "Somebody there was supposed to tell me what to do. Don't ask me who."
"Maybe Tolfdir."
"Maybe. But I lost my memory and then I got caught up in all those Hviterun affairs and then the Gaybores summoned me..." I realize Lynly is still there.
She stares at me with her eyes wide open. "Did you just call them Gaybores?" And then she bursts into howling laughter that might well be audible all the way to Sunguard City. She ends up literally rolling on the ground, holding her stomach. Several guards come running and we have all our hands full assuring them Lynly is fine, she's just laughing at something I told her about something that happened to me in Hviterun.
Finally, Lynly composes herself and we help her up and dry her tears. When she has come to her senses, or almost, I implore her not to tell anyone. She says not to worry, she knows how horribly serious the Nords are about the Ga... Greybeards. And now we're all in stitches. The guards just walk past shaking their heads and probably reflecting you can't expect sensible behavior from a group of females.

Having regained our composure, we stroll to the inn. What a delightful weather we are having!

"Laura, what will you give me if I tell you a good pretext for visiting all the other brothels in Skyrim?" asks Jordis when we're undressing in our room to go to sleep.
"Um... I can order Gregor to lick you down there."
"Come on..."
I know. It's not the same when the man doesn't really want to do it. "How about I promise I'll come back to Skyrim for your birthday?" That'll be a little less than 7 months from now.
"I'd love that."
"Well, what's the pretext?"
"Can't you really guess?"
I shrug.
"To search for skooma," she says.
Wow. Of course. Why didn't I think of it myself?



next awakening






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2021-01-13

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (236) Just Leave



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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






4-202-04-12 09:51
Silverlode, Mines of Moria, The Rift, Skyrim



Somehow Silverlode looks especially beautiful in the morning. I can't tell if it's because the outside light is entering this place somehow, or I am simply in a better mood after a good night's sleep.

There doesn't seem to be anything to find here, so we return to the Mine Shaft where the scenery is far from heartwarming:

Beautiful as some parts of Mines of Moria may be, I still generally hate it. We've been all over it and there's no one to talk to and nothing valuable to find and not even a way out. More precisely, there is an exit where we came in from, but it's inaccessible. The only place left for us to go is that Southern Abyss. But maybe there's no exit there either and we'll just end up massacring an enormous amount of Falmers and end up none the wiser? I don't want to do that and potentially risk my followers' lives for nothing. So I beg Bardslayer to get us out of here. He lets us access that inaccessible exit which brings us back to the lakeshore near Heartwood Mill.

The sky and the trees and the birdsong and the splashing of the water work wonders on my despondent mood. Even before we've reached Sunguard City, I feel exultant. Suddenly the whole world seems joyful.

During our round of shopping, I notice I've picked up this charming pitcher somewhere:

I won't sell it. I'll take it home to Hviterun.

We now head for Ivarsted and even reach it before dark.

We visit the shop first and then the inn. That jerk Bassianus... I really can't tell you in his own words what he says to me, but it amounts to a promise to sexually satisfy all four of us.

"Okay," I reply and point towards the nearest room with my jaw. Together with my bewildered followers, we walk into the room where I turn to Bassianus and say:
"I have an offer you won't be able to refuse."
It must be something in the tone of my voice (or maybe it's my facial expression) that makes his hands stop in the air halfway to my breasts. His vulgar grin remains on his face somewhat uneasily. "What?"
"You leave Ivarsted right now and never come anywhere near here. As a return favor, I won't kill you."
He's no longer grinning. He knows any words would be useless. He's stepped over the line one too many times. Jumped far over the line, in fact. "Okay," he says meekly.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Are we supposed to open the door for you?"
He comes out of his trance, mumbles "No," and leaves hurriedly.

The girls just stare at me.
"Wow," Lydia finally manages to say.
Jenassa is the next to regain some of her composure. "I didn't know you could be so..." She seems to swallow the word that was on her tongue and continues: "...persuasive."
I'm at loss for words. "I was actually going to threaten him with something else, but then I found I couldn't say it," I explain.
This seems to have relaxed the mood. I can see the hint of a smile on Jordis and Jenassa's faces. Lydia asks: "Shall I follow him and make sure he doesn't go to see Fastred?"
"Yes, please." I walk to the bed while she leaves. "Let's sit down for a while."
I'm exhausted. Mentally, that is. I've been wanting to kill Bassianus for a long time. I'm sure if he had gone away with Fastred, he would have dumped her in two months, if not sold her to someone like Dar'Jidarr. I mean, Sibbi Black-Briar was at least charming, but Bassianus is just... Poor Fastred! Whom can she find in a backwater like this? She ought to be living in a place like Hviterun.
"Can you imagine Bassianus wooing Carlotta?" asks Jordis after I've told them all this.
"He'd drive her right into the arms of Mikael," I reply, after which we howl with laughter for some time. But I actually wanted to discuss our plans. We'll be traveling west through the mountain pass, that's certain. I think I want to go to Falkert first, to bring all those Ayleid artifacts to the collector Nuri. Then we might take a trip to Dreamborne Isle. However, as I've told you in the past (even several times, I think), going to such a stunningly scenic place, we really ought to take a man with us. Apart from which, I want to do a round of crafting, and we can't do it in Ivarsted because it doesn't have an Arcane Enchanter.
"There is one in Falkert," says Lydia who has returned in the meantime.
"Yes, but there are no good men in Falkert... I think."
"I suppose Lorm is absolutely out of the question?"
This enquiry from Jordis that strictly speaking should be qualified as a very bad joke does in fact leave me silent for ten or twenty seconds. (Lorm, in case you have forgotten, lives in Aurora which is halfway between Falkert and Aulbryn's House.)
"I guess so," I finally reply. "Come to think of it, fetching Valdimar from Hviterun isn't actually too much effort."
Lydia agrees. "Doesn't compare to finding one's way out of Moria."
I find this  a very bad joke, but with the girls laughing, I can't help doing the same.

Before we leave, I hug the girls and say I'm sorry I brought them to those Dungholes of Moria. They know it's not my fault (and so, for that matter, do I), but they know me long enough by now to just keep their mouths shut.

Back in the taproom, I exchange a bright smile with our friend, the bard Lynly-Svidi. The next moment I realize I really ought to go and talk to Fastred, but I can't. I have no idea what to say to her.

But Lynly owes me a favor, doesn't she? And she knows just as well as I do what kind of a scumbag Bassianus is. So she agrees to explain Fastred that Bassianus was no good. Maybe it's even better that I won't tell Fastred myself. I hate Bassianus too much.

Lynly is disappointed I want to proceed towards Falkert today, but she makes me promise to make time for chatting with her (and maybe Fastred, too) the next time I'm here.

We visit briefly the two military camps between here and Helgen. It's snowing west of the mountain pass, but we're lucky to still have decent visibility.

We pass by Helgen without entering (even though we can hear there are bandits inside, but I'm just not in the mood for fighting right now) and reach Falkert when it's not even completely dark yet. The innkeeper Valga is most eager to hear where we have been and what we have done.

My boyfriend, the traveler Shasien is also at the inn, and I wonder if he would agree to come to Dreamborne Isle with us, but I am too preoccupied with the question if this town really has an Arcane Enchanter in the jarl's house like Lydia said. Yes, it has. This means I can do my crafting here and sell our loot tomorrow. I leave the girls to fill Valga in on the news while I set to work, which lasts until half past 4 in the morning.



next awakening






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2020-05-07

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (160) The Road More Traveled



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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.
———————————————




previous day






4-202-01-25 05:38
Uthgerd's House, Hviterun, Whiterun, Skyrim



Lucia is still sleeping. I leave the house on tiptoes. There's time until the shops will open, so I talk to the guards and innkeepers asking them if they know anyone in the city who could be called an artist. I need it for that girl's ghost in that underworld realm Blackreach. They haven't heard anything of the kind. Neither am I having any luck in the temple and in the Hall of the Dead. Frankly, I wasn't expecting much to start with. I rather have the feeling the "artist" is no longer among the living and I ought to search for him in sewers and under bridges and such.


It's still raining cats and dogs. Looks like all the water I missed by not sailing away with that ship in Solitud is now being poured down on me from the sky. That doesn't keep Heimskr from his preaching. I keep him company for a while and let him tell me about his work, and then the shops open. Lucia accompanies me, braving the awful weather.

About noon, the rain ceases. My followers who slept elsewhere have joined me by now. We hear there's a dragon in the eastern suburb. I sternly order Lucia to run up to the palace and stay inside until the danger is over. Me and my followers hurry out the eastern city gate and help the guards kill the beast.

On my way back to the city proper, I run into Mikki and use the opportunity to ask her about the triple murder in Jorrvaskr. She says the Companions are keeping very quiet about it. Mikki hoped to find out something from the old cleaning lady, but she is clearly terrified of the topic. The others are even more tight-lipped, to the extent that Mikki herself became increasingly afraid of bringing the incident up. I suggest her to let it go. If the Companions want us to mind our own business, we will. The last thing I want is for Mikki to get murdered too.

This grim story has totally failed to ruin my mood. It's hard to put it into words how much I enjoy being in Hviterun. Frankly, my reaction to walking from place to place and talking to the people astonishes myself. I feel a connection to this city unlike to any other location in the world. I don't even miss Falskaar anymore. Or maybe I do just a little bit.

Most amazingly, I succeed in making up with my ex-boyfriend Yourg. He agrees to talk to me this time, and I apologize for having broken up with him. Actually I didn't do anything wrong, but apologizing costs nothing and I don't want him to feel bad. His anatomical shortcomings are not his fault. I'm not going to be with him ever again, but now we can at least look each other in the eye and say hello in a civil manner.

But enough of this. Paarthurnax is waiting for me and the Elder Scroll up on top of Mount Nexus. I leave some money with Carlotta. After all, we're practically one family. I mean, we don't sleep together, but she takes care of Lucia, and it's better when she handles the money. Lucia doesn't mind. She realizes it's safer that way.

Just as me and my followers are running south towards the crossing southeast of Hviterun, we see balls of fire flying from the eastern bank of White River in the general direction of the Honningbrew Meadery.

We hurriedly cross the river and find two mages in a fierce fight. Evidently this has nothing to do with the meadery, they are aiming their magic at each other and occasionally it flies somewhere else. They pay no attention to us as we crouch well hidden and observe them.

Our tactic is clear – wait until one mage has killed the other and then kill the survivor. But the combat lasts so long that I get impatient and when I get impatient I start having stupid ideas. I figure I can just as well make use of the time and sneak up the slope, so that by the time one of the mages is killed, I shall have the additional advantage of elevation.

That has the result that both mages notice me and decide to attack us instead of each other. With horrible-looking fire and ice things flying at me and past me, I have to fight them both at the same time. They're not too difficult for the four of us to defeat, but I should have just remained in my perfect shooting position behind that rock on the roadside and waited (or at least shot one of the mages in the back while they were not seeing us).

That's the fire mage:

That's the ice mage:

That's the city:

And that's the road to Riverwood:

Without wasting any more time, we cross that very bridge and head south.

Whenever the weather is good (as it is now), Riverwood is utterly adorable. We do some shopping and say hello to old friends. I wonder if Rudelphine is there. No, the secret room is empty. I guess she went with that old man to reestablish the Blades organization or something. Come to think of it, just because she and I found out some stuff about dragons doesn't mean the thalmors are no longer after her. Considering all that's happened, she can hardly expect to be safe in Riverwood any longer.


I, however, feel I really ought to take a break for a couple of weeks or at least days in this region. I mean, take some time off and enjoy hanging around in the city doing nothing. Be together with my stepdaughter. Maybe take her on a trip to Riverwood or even Blackmoor.

Whatever. It's getting late and we need to hurry. We must at least reach the Falkreath Stormcloak Camp before complete darkness. I know, I have that Circlet of Night Eye, but it only affects my eyesight, not that of my followers, so it's only for emergencies.

The weather is nice and everything on this route is so familiar that I barely pay attention to anything. Not only do we reach that stork camp, we even get through the mountain pass in pretty decent light, so we go and pay a visit to the Rift Imperial Camp as well.

We reach Ivarsted at half past 7 in the evening.

I'm pleasantly surprised to see that Marni's shop is still open. I also bring Temba, the owner of the sawmill, the bear pelts she wanted. She's incredibly haughty. Instead of being grateful, she treats me like a maid who has been good enough to be spared the daily beating today. I should kill Temba, but the village needs her.


After some walking around and gossiping, we retire for the night at the inn.

I can hear my followers falling asleep rather quickly. (As I've told you, Lydia and I sleep in separate beds at inns, to avoid being accidentally seen in an awkward situation.) My thoughts go onto our tomorrow's visit to High Hrothgar, then the soothing peacefulness in the Whiterun Hold and how we must do everything in our power to keep the war away from Skyrim's last stronghold of safety and sanity.

As my thoughts wander backwards along our yesterday's route, past Hviterun to Dragonbridge and Solitud, the ghastly sight of Montaigu's mutilated corpse emerges in my mind's eye, and those executioners with axes one can see walking around in Solitud from time to time. It reminds me of the bloody head of that Stormcloak soldier on the ground in front of me when I was kneeling at a chopping block in Helgen, from which my thoughts jump to the vile murder committed in Amber Creek by Svegard on Agnar's order a week ago. I just can't put it out of my mind. The prisoner said that he was afraid that if he'll tell Agnar where Jalma and Wilhard were taken to, Yngvarr will have him killed. Observe what Agnar replied:

Obviously, "I'll kill you if you don't," implies "I won't kill you if you do." Any sensible person would understand it like that. This means Jarl Agnar shamelessly broke his implied promise. Think about it: would the bandit have given Agnar any information on the hostages' whereabouts if he had known that as soon as he has done so, he'll be stabbed to death? Hardly, unless tortured to the point where he would have wished to die. He did not wish to die at that moment. He was ready to do anything to stay alive. But Jarl Agnar had a man who did him an enormous service killed without a second thought, casually as if smashing a mosquito. He is no better than Yngvarr.

Undeniably, Agnar has committed fewer crimes than Yngvarr, but that's because he is the king of Falskaar and thus can get his way simply by ordering people to do what he wants. Were he in Yngvarr's shoes and vice versa, things wouldn't necessarily be much different.

Wait. In fact, Yngvarr has so far only shown himself ruthless. He has not shown himself dishonorable. Not before my eyes, at any rate. I have only heard horrible things about him. My instinct tells me very strongly his word is to be trusted not a bit more than Agnar's, but I have no hard facts yet.

Stop, Laura, I tell myself. Enough of this crap. You need to get some sleep.

I force my thoughts back onto the sunny marketplace in Hviterun. I imagine how Lucia and Mila are running errands for Carlotta, how Anoriath and Fralia are praising their wares behind their adjacent stalls, how Jon is chatting up young women passing by. Then I imagine Corianna at her cookshop in Riverwood, her husband sitting on the pier, fishing, listening to the birdsong and watching the water in the river flow by... I begin to sink into sleep.



next awakening






return to the table of contents








2020-03-14

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (137) From Highest Heights to Lowest Depths



———————————————
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






4-202-01-02 14:55
High Hrothgar, Whiterun, Skyrim



I've slept unusually late, but we still have plenty of time to reach Ivarsted in daylight and possibly even do something meaningful today.


As we descend the snowy steps, I reflect, with a fair degree of resentment, how gullible some people seem to think I am.

During our conversations, Arngeir has said essentially the same thing to me Rudelphine did: "I have found a way to use you for my purposes and that's why you must never let anyone bring you away from my goals." I wonder if either of them has any idea how infinitely despicable they make themselves in my eyes with such attitude?

How hard can it be to realize that I pursue my own goals, and I can help other people with their goals, but only as long as they're not at odds with my own?

My primary goal is to get my memory back and find out if I have any family alive, and if I do, to meet them.

My secondary goal is to find a man to establish a family with. Actually, it's my primary goal. To pass on life is more important than finding out about the past. But the second goal can wait a few more years.

All in all, it would be more correct to say my most important goal right now  is to find out about my past while keeping my eyes open for the most suitable fiancĂ©. My followers agree that this is the proper wording.

What I really meant to say, though, is that Rudelphine's wish to defeat Alduin is at best fourth or fifth on my list of priorities, and the elusive spiritual pursuits of the Gaybores are of no importance to me whatsoever, unless they have access to some essential information about my past, in which case I'll need to do them whichever favors they require to share it with me. I guess I'll try discussing it with Paarthurnax first, the next time I visit him. Even though he claims ignorance of downtoearthly affairs, he seems free of selfish crusaderly concerns of petty humans, so maybe he'll be able to give me some kind of a lead.

I must have an elder brother and a younger sister. I have a distinct feeling that my brother is 7 years older than me. I don't know about my sister, but I always treated her like a child, even when she was already a teenager. Shame on me! Guess I had made her the object of my overwhelming desire to take care of someone, the way my brother always cared for me and protected me.

I stop walking when tears obscure my sight as fleeting pictures from the past come into my mind's eye. A moment later, they're gone again. It's all right, girls. I'll tell you later. Let's go. Look, isn't that a troll over there?

Yeah, never mind the troll. A few minutes after we've left it behind, a dragon attacks us.
snowy mountain area, snowfall, gray sky, dragon floats over a stone staircase, looks kind of out of place
He looks like he has overslept and then eaten a very large breakfast.
I'm surprised he can get his body off the ground at all.

We kill him easily and soon we're in Ivarsted where we meet Fastred on the street. She is eager to find out if we've done anything super exciting recently. Of course. You can come with us to the inn if you're sure you won't get in trouble with your possessive parents again.

Fastred decides to give it a miss this time. I have the feeling she's more afraid of potentially embarrassing herself in the presence of Bassianus than a possible reprimand from her parents.

I decide to take a look at the madman Narfi rather than go to the inn where I might have to listen to that skeez Bassianus again. I kind of feel doing a good deed to someone, even if it's completely insignificant in the global perspective. The girls had better stay behind and keep company to Fastred rather than accompany me and potentially scare the wits out of the poor guy who the villagers assure is harmless.

Narfi is quite mad and evidently it's because he's grieving his sister Reyda who got lost. From the little what he's able to say coherently, I get that the innkeeper Wilhelm has assured him Reyda will soon return.

Wilhelm confirms exactly what I had suspected – he has no idea what happened to Reyda; he was only trying to make Narfi feel less awful.

Wilhelm knows Reyda made frequent trips to the nearby island in the lake, so should I want to search for her, that would be the only specific place he could possibly think of.

I thank him and head for the lake.

Standing on the shore and looking at the water, I realize that if a woman got lost on her way to the island, it might be a good idea to search underwater first. So I take off my clothes, cast the Waterbreathing  spell and only then remember to look around me. Dammit! I stripped in view of a guard patrolling up on the bridge. Well, can't be helped now. Trying to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, I quickly jump into the water.

I don't need to swim around for long until I see a dead body. Practically a skeleton, to be more precise. Almost the only thing the fish have left is an amulet. This person's name was Reyda all right.

I resurface under the bridge where I get dressed, arrange my hair as well as I can, and return to Narfi, without seeing that guard from earlier. I give him the amulet and when he asks when will Reyda come home, I risk replying Reyda will no longer come home, because she's dead. Narfi breaks out in tears and I stand there at loss what to do. But then he calms down and says: well, at least I have Reyda's necklace to remind me of her. He thanks me for bringing it to him. The end of uncertainty and anxious waiting seems to have done good to him. Sad as he may be, he no longer needs to worry. As he turns away to return to his daily routine, whatever that may consist of, I walk back over the bridge to meet up with my followers. It was a very right decision to go and talk to Narfi. And I pray to the gods my brother hasn't gone crazy waiting for me to come home.

It's half past six and the sun is already setting, but it's not too dark yet to actually go somewhere tonight. Our final destination is Winterhold which would mean traveling across all the eastern part of Skyrim. That's far too much for one evening, but we should easily be able to reach at least Darkwater in spite of the difficult terrain. As joyful as the colored holiday lanterns above the main street may be, I feel no desire to hang around in Ivarsted. The girls aren't all that keen either. Darkwater is a much nicer place, and by traveling there now we'll be making good use of the remaining daylight hours.

So we get going. The weather is really nice. It's a delight to be hiking here right now.

We reach the edge of the mountain range pretty quickly. The descent looks awfully frightening, but in fact isn't all that bad. It's not even eight o'clock yet when we stand on the western end of the bridge that leads across the river to the houses of Darkwater.

I say: girls, let's proceed to Windhelm right away! Then we can be in Summerset tomorrow. (The spell for traveling to Summerset works only in Winterhold.)

We pass by Fort Amol without seeing anyone. At Mixwater Mill, we exchange a few words with Gilfre. After that, as we're about to proceed along the highway under the beautiful northern lights, I suddenly get a warning from Bardslayer. I have to watch out for an Orc man waiting for me on the roadside quite close. It is imperative that I kill him before he can get near me.

I go into the sneak mode and tell my followers to spread out damn well, so whatever that may hit me won't get them too. I equip my strongest bow, make sure the arrows are poisoned, put on my best sneaking gear and take a Fortify Sneaking  potion. With my bow at the ready, I begin to prowl forward very slowly in the darkness in the midst of the bushes and high grass on the riverbank, looking in the direction of the road and casting Sense of Smell  after every few paces. I don't know what exactly this is about, but Bardslayer has transmitted me the feeling of extreme tension.

When I have covered maybe 50 meters, but it could as well have been only 20, I can indeed detect something moving towards me in the darkness. I immediately take a shot and the target falls down dead. Getting closer, I learn it was an Orc man all right. The girls and I observe our surroundings most carefully. I have the feeling he wasn't alone, but we can't detect anyone. Eventually, I decide we'll just move on.


We pass by the Secret Enclave without meeting anyone and a little after half past nine we enter through the main gate of Windhelm. A huge burden falls off my shoulders when the big metal gate slams shut behind us.

I don't feel like going to see Yrsarald. I promised him I won't raise any objections to backdoor sex, but I didn't say anything about when it's going to happen. And I had it done to me only two nights ago and I just can't stand the thought of submitting to it again so soon. Lydia thinks it's all right if I skip meeting with Yrsarald this once. And should he dump me just because he finds out I was in the city and left without seeing him, she says, then he's not the right man for me to begin with. I agree with her, but I decide nevertheless we'll go straight home without even dropping by the inn. Apart from which, I feel really tired.

As I close my eyes in bed and listen to the barely audible street sounds, everything that happened on Mount Nexus flies past my mind's eye once again. Suddenly, I see myself back at the Mixwater Mill. We begin to run towards Windhelm feeling light and carefree. I see someone on the roadside and slow down. It's an Orc man. He informs us that he belongs to a sect that worships the true god of the Orcs and fights against the traitors who worship Malacath. He needs someone to help him defeat the heretics. I try to tell him I'm not interested. He says it doesn't matter, it was all a ruse anyway. And then something falls upon me and I wake up lying on the ground. In the bright light, I see man's legs right in front of my nose and a harsh voice tells someone (maybe me) to stand up. As I do that, I become aware of two more men around me. Calling me scum and whatnot, they sneeringly tell me I'll be sold to slavery and trained into an obedient servant.

They take me to a large hall where I'm lined up among other people who are naked, shackled and gagged (as, as I now realize, am I). Most of them are women. Before leaving me standing on my assigned place, the guards won't fail to whisper me that the slaves sold to a certain location whose name doesn't mean anything to me get their tongues cut off so they won't talk back – nor be able to tell anyone what's been done to them.

We are brought forward from the stage one by one to be looked over and groped by a score of prospective buyers, and then auctioned off to the highest bidder. There's an Argonian man whom no one wants, and at the auctioneer's sign the servants just stab him to death and drag his corpse away. I am sold next, to an elven man in a green garb whose left eye glows in green, similar to the yellow glow in hungry vampires' eyes.

Unable to do anything to defend myself, I'm taken away, having to leave my followers behind, naked and shackled just like myself, to be sold to gods know whom gods know where.

I understand now why the guards were so hateful. They have to witness day in, day out, how naked women are being sold to some toffs in fancy clothes loaded with cash while they have to settle for watching. That's why they abuse us all they can.

I am anaesthetized and wake up after an unknown period of time in a small metal cage. Formidably built as it may be, the door is unlocked. Rather astonished, I step out. There's another such cage in a few meters from mine and that's pretty much all that fits into this... room? Cave?

All my things and money are gone, but my hands are not bound, my mouth is not gagged and I've even been dressed in some rags. In more practical terms, this means I can do spells and shouts, as well as use my Khajiit Claws . And yet I can't believe this has happened to me. All my inventory, tediously gathered piece by piece over a long time, more than 600,000 septims of money – all gone. Worst of all, Lydia, Jenassa and Jordis have been brought to unknown locations. I have little doubt that I can break free from here, but will I ever be able to find them? Will they even want to see me in the state they'll be by then – raped, beaten, possibly brandmarked or even mutilated? How can I go on living with the knowledge I brought it upon them?

My owner enters, still wearing that same green garb. He's somewhat haughty and short-tempered, but I've seen much worse in Skyrim. He informs me that this cage will be my home from now on. I ask him a few questions, but then I realize I'm just not in the mood for conversation. I disable him easily with the Slow Time  shout and kill him.

In the other cage sits a vampire man who won't talk to me. In fact, he acts like he's not even aware of being talked to. I go through the passage into a big cave filled with furniture and such. It may well qualify as living quarters by elven standards. I search it thoroughly and take whatever I may be able to use. Then I exit into a huge badly lighted cavern with large jellyfish-shaped glowing things hanging in the air. I see a "house" similar to the one I just came out of. It's locked. I try to break in, but I have only one lockpick on me and when that breaks I have to give up.

I realize I made a bad mistake earlier. I should have kept talking to that elven man, found out what orders he would have given me, and gone along with this slavery thing until I had found out the whereabouts of my followers, and possibly even my inventory. The way things stand now, I'm not even sure I can ever find a way out of this place or anyone to ask. But it's done and I can't turn the time back.

I believe to vaguely see yet another "house" at the farther end of the cavern. As I walk in that direction, the world around me suddenly flickers and disappears.



next awakening






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