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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
4-202-03-03 05:09
Silver-Blood Inn, Morpork, The Reach, Skyrim
Without Jordis who will presumably need a few more hours of rest after her last night's happy reunion with Hreinn, we have a bath and then take a walk around town. So early in the morning, Fortune's traders will surely be still sleeping. We'd better not disturb them. I need Uthor as rested as possible, because I'm going to try and talk nicely to him first.
Strolling past the Shrine of Talos, I decide to step in to take a look, in case there are some thalmor agents preying on unsuspecting worshippers, or maybe even someone interesting to talk to.
No, there are no people in there, but we do find a folded sheet of paper someone must have dropped or maybe even left here deliberately. It contains a cryptic message. Something about the sins of the past and Peryite, a daedra. Jenassa believes to remember there's a shrine of Peryite west of Karthwasten. Maybe we'll go and take a look someday.
Back on the street, we strike up a conversation with a vagabond in rags who answers to the name Garvey. I ask him if he has any idea what happened to the Silver-Blood mafia. He says the word is they escaped to Cyrodiil. I would't be surprised. The imperial court would probably be the best place for them to try and intrigue themselves into somehow getting their city back.
No, says Garvey. The Silver-Bloods have no influence in the capital. All they've got is money. All these years, they've kept funneling as much money away from Skyrim as they could. Thongvor Silver-Blood is no fool. He knew this couldn't last forever. As soon as he got the news that Maven Black-Briar had been killed, they escaped.
Wow. This apparent dallier has turned out to be a man wise far beyond his years. I ask Garvey how come he's so well-informed. He says he's got most of it from a former prostitute Cairine who might know more about Morpork than anyone else. Former? What's she doing now, then? She's sick and can't work anymore, Garvey says. She lives down in the Warrens (a miserable underground lodging near the mine; think Haelga's Bunkhouse located in the Ratway and free of charge) just like Garvey does. She always dreamed of making it big, marrying someone important, and she was always so close, but still never succeeded and now she's 31.
So what? I understand 31 is not 21, but it's not that awfully old.
No it's not, says Garvey, but she has lost her will to shine.
Can we at least see her?
Garvey shrugs and takes us to the Warrens.
Cairine is sitting on the rough ground. She looks indeed ill, and not even a proper bedmat has she to show for her reputedly spectacular career!
I can't help asking how she ended up in this state. She says: "It no longer matters. It's all in the past." I try to tell her that's nonsense. In spite of her sickness, I can see she's gorgeous, to say nothing of young-looking for her age. A woman as beautiful as she could easily wrap men around her little finger for ten years to come at least.
"A woman is not beautiful, a woman is beauty," Cairine replies.
Sorry, this is too philosophical for me. Maybe her mind is not very clear. We walk away and I ask Garvey if there's really nothing we can do for her. I mean, I'm sure I could persuade them in the Temple of Dibella to take care of her. They owe me a favor. Garvey shrugs and says feel free to try.
Grateful as I may be, I dare not ask if there's anything we could do for
him , because he might ask for something we're not ready to give.
At the Temple of Dibella, I find that nice priestess Anwen who tells me their temple is not exactly a hospital, but as a personal favor to me, they shall ask the Sybil for instructions.
Now, Jarl Igmund can hardly be expected to travel very early in the morning, so I think we can kill time by looking at those excavations of the ancient Dwemer city that used to be here and a part of which, as I've told you, is in use as the jarl's palace. We can handle it, just the three of us, can't we? Of course we can, Lydia and Jenassa assure me.
We find the locked door that connects the cleaned-up area to the excavation site. Beyond the door, there are massive stone ruins.
A passage full of rubbish where you can barely get through leads to what looks like an abandoned mine.
It actually contains some iron ore, as well as a few poison spiders. One spider is big like a horse, but I'm lucky to spot it before it has a chance to jump down on us. Thanks to that, we kill it quickly.
I make bold to test my new boots with the
Cushioned enchantment by jumping down from a height that would normally hurt me (but not kill). This time I'm indeed not taking any damage at all! This is so amazing. It's not like I intend to get into the habit of jumping down mountains all the time, but I'm going to feel a lot better having this kind of a safety cushion.
Nearby is the entrance to another Dwemer ruin. In front of it lie the horrible remains of a man named Alethius. There are some written notes the big spider evidently didn't find tasty. He seems to have been a scholar of sorts who had hammered together a group of not very competent assistants to explore this place.
It's a quarter past eight by now, so we return to the palace rather than go further into the ruins.
Fortune's Tradehouse is open. Uthor and I argue back and forth a little, but I succeed in persuading him to let the flame atronach Elle return to her world. After briefly checking out the other vendors, I go and say hello to Fortune. He says he has found out where his missing helper Dalmyn had gone, and there's supposed to be a man Trick at the inn who has come from that place and would I please to go and talk to him? Fine, why not? Maybe he's handsome.
But first I have to go and ask Morilla what happened between her and Inuril. She gives me reluctant laconic replies from which it's obvious to me they were lovers, but I'm not going to coax anything further out of her today. So I wish her well and leave. Jordis has turned up by now. The girls walk to the inn with me because they want to see that traveler whom Fortune mentioned, but I order them to let me talk to him alone.
A nice shot of Hroki and Frabbi, daughter and mother.
Actually, Hroki's brother Hreinn is on the right and a part of their father Kleppr is visible on the left.
Last but not least, Trick is the one in the background, left of Hroki.
Trick turns out to be a Khajiit man, but he doesn't tickle my fancy the slightest. He goes to great length making sure I won't be repulsed by bloody details. I insist I'm not, but I almost have to hit him before he tells me Dalmyn got into a fight with a giant on the northern coast near Dånstar and the giant gave him such a forceful blow with his club that his body broke in pieces which flew into the ocean.
I think the local garrison commander will surely have woken up by now, so instead of letting my followers make the acquaintance of Trick, I take them up to the barracks. Together with the higher officers, we walk around the city inspecting the guards and making sure everything is in order. I'm rather pleasantly surprised when Igmund and his retinue arrive as early as a few minutes before noon. By half past 12, introductions and such are completed. Jarl Igmund has been restored to power, Yrsarald's orders have been duly noted by the Stormcloak garrison, and the decision to always call the city by its historical name Markarth from now on has been officially made. At 12:24 on 3rd of First Seed, year 203 of the 4th era, I can finally say the Skyrim civil war is over for me.
A huge load having been taken off my shoulders, I go to see if the wizard-archaeologist Calcelmo is at his usual workplace near the excavation site. He is.
I show him Alethius's notes and he says he knew him. Alethius's group has been missing for some time now. Should me and my followers be curious to find out what's happened with the rest of them and venture deeper into those ruins, Calcelmo won't mind.
Yeah, we'll do just that.
Past Alethius's death body and in through a massive door nearby, we end up in a huge cavern with those small Dwemerish turrets and an elaborate system of stone walkways across deadly depths.
We end up having to kill many Falmers in this Dwemer ruin. I feel very sorry about it, but on the other hand we're seeing once again how human bandits fight alongside Falmers and I'm keen to get to the bottom of that strange phenomenon.
It was (of course) us who stripped him naked. When he attacked us, he was wearing armor.
We explore this extensive (well, not Blackreach-like extensive, but still they do have a lot of space here) location, searching for the remains of explorers. Several times my followers get in my way in combat and I snap at them. Then, when we are taking a rest in a large room after having killed everything nearby, the girls whisper something among themselves and then they approach me looking like a delegation of sorts. Jenassa says on behalf of all three of them that I must stop acting like their mother. What is the point of them running with me if they have to hide behind my back in combat? They want to have their fun, too. And, adds Jordis, to make a contribution.
They're right. I apologize to them and promise to trust in them being big girls from now on. But they'd better not come crying to me when they get killed.
We reach a torture chamber which, I presume, is the Falmers', not the Dwemers'.
Lydia, would you like to check out the rack?
She turns to me with a suspicious look on her face. I look at her playful-teasingly. "I mean, would you trust me not to harm you?"
"Um, how about we try it out on Jordis first?" she suggests.
"Not on your life!" Jordis jumps back several paces and points her Staff of Ice Storms at us.
I look her in the eye. "Jordis, if we really decided to tie you up and torture you, do you think you could run away or defend yourself?"
She lowers the staff. "I guess not. But I haven't done anything."
"We haven't done you anything either yet."
Jordis, still upset, turns around and begins to walk away. I motion to Lydia and Jenassa, and we follow her back the long way we came.
"I would, Laura," Lydia says. "Because if you turned up capable of harming me, nothing in the world would make sense to me anymore."
I nod and smile at her fondly.
"But would you let Yrsarald tie you up on that thing?" she asks.
"Hell, no!" I exclaim.
Lydia laughs and pats my butt. We have now almost caught up with Jordis. "Jordis, I'm sorry!" Lydia says. "I'll kneel down and kiss your foot if you want me to."
"Leave me alone!"
I step in front of Jordis and gently put my hands on her cheeks. "Jordis, we've been joking. I promise you: when we tie you up, it'll be on a beautiful soft warm bed."
She wants to go on being angry, but can't help smiling. I turn to go. "Come on!" I don't think we'll be tying up any of us for real. It's just silly girl banter between monster-fighting, never mind.
We explore more passages and halls, finding more dead bodies obviously from various treasure-hunting parties.
We pick up several journals, one of which suggests the Dwemer automatons here have actually been the only thing keeping Falmers from invading Markarth. To be honest, I don't think so. People in various parts of Skyrim (and, if you remember, Falskaar) are scaring each other with stories about Falmers coming onto the surface and attacking us, but when has it ever happened?
To cut the long story short, we return to the Understone Keep without having discovered anything of interest. Unfortunately, I didn't get any closer to the secret of mutual understanding with the Falmers.
After we've finished telling Calcelmo about what we found, it's time to go to sleep. I suddenly remember I was told someday there was a vacant house in this city, kept as a thane residence. I forgot all about it earlier today, but I have doubtlessly earned it. The problem is it would probably be impolite to disturb the steward at this late hour. We go and take a look at the throne room all the same, just in case. Yes, the jarl and the steward have already retired to their quarters. The jarl's housecarl Faleen is just about to go to sleep as well.
So we return to the familiar Silver-Blood Inn. I think I'll let them keep the name as an ironic reminder of the family that was once all-powerful, and is now scattered like a pack of homeless dogs. And in all likelihood living a life of luxury in Cyrodiil, adds Lydia. Well, maybe so, but they've still been defeated big time, and Markarth is free of tyranny now.
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