Death In The Dark
Nathan staggered through the gate of the city. Cheydinhal sat before him, and after his run, it was a welcome sight.
He'd been travelling along the Yellow Road, peacefully, when he'd been set upon by a group of necromancers. He'd taken off to the north, only to run into two goblin war parties fighting over an insignificant patch of dirt. By the time he'd escaped them, he was lost in the wilderness, the sun was setting and he'd not had anything to eat in some time.
He'd cast around looking for something to follow and caught sight of a moving light. Cautiously, he'd approached it, only to find that it was one of those Legion fellows, doing his rounds. The soldier had been extremely helpful in pointing out the road to a town.
So, now he was safe in Cheydinhal, and there was a boisterous looking inn right in front him. Brilliant.
Hours had passed, and he lounged by the fire in the "traditional Dark Elf bar", a mug of one of Vvardenfel's strange beverages, he thought it was called matze, and a pretty little thing in blue cosied up next to him.
It was only the next morning, when he woke, that he found she was actually the Count's Mage, and not a pleasant companion while sober.
She probably drugged that stuff. Nathan thought to himself as he held his pounding head, stumbling away from the inn. As soon as she realised he was awake, she'd begun chattering, and it wasn't even sensible chatter. True, Nathan was the last person to be accused of being strait-laced, but really, blasphemy at six o'clock in the morning?
It wasn't like he cared that she had no interest in the Nine Divines. Not many Dark Elves did. Most of the ones he'd run into were fully involved with that Tribunal Temple, though he'd heard they been overthrown or something. But to have her spouting rubbish about her disinterest in the gods, like it was some sort of flirtation; well it turned his stomach.
It had nothing to do with the vast quantities of alcohol he'd imbibed the night before.
What made it worse was that while he was heaving up his guts, she was rubbing his back and whispering in his ear about some shrine up in the mountains. Over and over, about this shrine to someone she called Azura.
The name was echoing through his head, at the same tempo as the pounding. His mouth was dry and felt like it was full of sawdust. He needed some hair of the dog.
He looked around himself, only to find that he'd wandered toward the east gate of the city. There was nothing here but a few houses and a couple of guards who were looking at him curiously. To avoid their scrutiny, he turned to the right and ventured into the Chapel.
It was quiet inside, but the silence did not help his head. Indeed, the pain seemed to increase as he walked forward. He must have bumped into something because he was suddenly being aided by a Redguard woman in red.
"Are you alright, sir?"
He looked up at her blearily. "Hair of the dog?" He mumbled.
She smiled down at him, "I know just the place."
And that was how he found himself seated at a table in the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn, surrounded by upper-class people, like the Castle Steward, who laughed heartily when she found out who he'd been with the night before, and a young imperial called Garellus, who was apparently a guard at the castle and had experienced the same night as him at one time in the past.
Later, as he lay in the large double bed, stomach heavy with food and head swimming with alcohol, he tried to sleep; only to be troubled by dreams of snow and light.
He left the city, heading up into the mountains.
Nathan cursed.
Sure enough he'd found the shrine up in the mountains, amidst the snow and numerous wolves. But apparently, simply spending days wandering through the countryside to find the shrine was not enough to release him from the never-ending echo in his head.
The Daedra had plans for him, alright, but she required a gift first.
Thus leaving him wandering, yet again, through the wilderness, looking for a will-o-the-wisp. He'd already spent two weeks on this task, and was no closer to finding one then on the first day!
He'd discovered a number of bandit camps, investigated some Ayleid ruins and looted a few old forts, but the creature he sought most eluded him. And all the while, the name of Azura echoed in his head.
He couldn't continue; he was going crazy. He had to do something! Even if it meant travelling to the other end of the province, he had to find some glowdust.
With this renewed determination, Nathan began his walk towards the nearest alchemical shop, in the Imperial city.
One week later, he left the city, glowdust in hand, headed for that infernal shrine in the mountains.
He stumbled back into the clearing; ignoring the cold, but somewhat amused, looks from the shrine's sycophants, as he approached the statue of Azura, Queen of the Dawn and the Dusk.
He held out the glowdust as an offering but nothing happened. So, he sat down and had his lunch. After his lunch, he had a nap, waking up just as the sun went down. He yawned and stretched, then threw the glowdust at the statue; standing up to receive its displeasure.
I have seen your name, traveller, and heard it whispered in twilight.
"And I've heard your name also." He muttered darkly, "Only for the last several weeks, between my ears."
I ask a service, which holds promise of fame and reward.
"Reward, huh? Now we're talking." Nathan focused his attention on the Lady, not noticing as the Dark Elf, Mels, sidled up behind him.
Many years ago, five followers slew the vampire Dratik and its kin, but all were infected by the foul creature.
Knowing their fate, they sealed themselves up in the vampire's lair. Their suffering weighs heavily on me.
"Then maybe you shouldn't have sent…oof." His breath was knocked out of him and his words cut off, as Mels Maryon elbowed him in the gut.
"Show some respect for the Lady." Mels whispered, holding Nathan upright. The Lady smiled down upon them.
Travel to the Gutted Mine. The door will open for you. Bring the peace of death to my followers, and you shall earn my gratitude.
Mels turned Nathan and marched him across the clearing, directing him, wordlessly, to the path he needed to take.
"You do realise that it's night time, right?"
Mels simply raised his arm, pointing along the path. Nathan set off still grumbling.
Since he'd found the Gutted Mine during his quest for glowdust, Nathan knew the way already, so it didn't take him too long to arrive. Now that the door opened, he ventured inside.
The first thing he found was a mace to the face. As he stumbled back, holding his nose, which had blood streaming out of it, he alerted the first vampire to his presence.
She came storming towards him, red eyes glinting in the dim light, a ravenous hunger evident on her face at the smell of his blood. He barely had time to draw his sword and fend her off, but after exchanging a few blows, she lay dead on the floor.
He checked her over; she was sickly thin, yet bloated at the same time. Vampirism had not been kind to her, and who knew how long she'd been stuck here.
He moved forward into the mine, coming across a barrel in the tunnel. It held a few torches, which he threw down in disgust. The blood from his nose had already alerted them to his presence. Holding a torch would simply aid them in finding him. Even if they were unlikely to want to fight, their vampiric natures would compel them to a token effort at the least, and he had no wish to enable that. As dishonourable as it was to stab someone while their back was turned, if he could, he would.
Unfortunately, the scent of his blood and his poor sneaking skills, alerted the next vampire before he reached her. Though she could not pinpoint his location, she was suspicious and his first strike did not take her down. She was quickly joined by another of her afflicted brethren, and Nathan was hard pressed holding them off.
As he stood over their still bodies, he could feel a weakness flowing through his own. He cursed angrily, knowing that he must have contracted the disease.
The smell of his own blood was strong in his nose, almost overpowering him even though the flow had stopped. Now that he knew how it affected them, he cast a spell of detect life to give himself more warning.
He came to a dead end, though his spell indicated where the last two were. It didn't take him long to locate the pull rope and open the wall. Down the hill, the two vampires paced, already antsy from the noise above them and the smell of blood which was spreading through the air. These two, however, seemed to be fighting off their urges; they were tense as if they knew their release would arrive shortly.
Nathan tread cautiously towards them, praying there were no more traps ahead. His sword was drawn, in readiness for battle, but he hoped it would not be a difficult one.
At the sight of him, the High Elf drew her bow, aiming towards him, but the arrow flew passed. The Orc came barrelling toward him, mace drawn and swinging, though his movements were laboured. Moving swiftly, Nathan parried the mace, striking a glancing blow across the Orc's shoulder. The blade caught on the edge of the vampire's cuirass, flipping over the lip and cutting into his neck. Nathan tugged on it and it slid free, leaving a great gash through the Orc's throat. As he fell, the High Elf gave a cry and drew her dagger, rushing forward in a hurried attack.
Nathan stepped out of reach of the small blade, before stepping forward and thrusting his blade through her chest. As she died, she whispered her thanks.
Nathan looked around the dimly lit chamber, his eyes not resting on the bodies at his feet. Then his gaze caught on a scrap of parchment attached to a cord. It lay on the floor, not far from the body of the Orc.
He picked it up, unfurling it to read a note, obviously written by the Brethren.
My name is Ghola gro-Muzgol. My companions' names are Aranalda, Nille Elf-daughter, Avita Cassiana and Umar gra-Khar.
The vampire Dratik died by our hands, but the price was dear. Those into whose hands we have fallen, we thank you, and pray your favour.
We served Lady Azura. Bring these, our last words, to her shrine. We praise Her with the full fountain of our devotion.
Our destinies were written in the stars, that our souls and reason be slain, and our world lost forever.
None can escape Her fate. But let us be remembered at Her shrine, and in the hearts of Her servants.
"It is only by fate
That any life ends,
And only by chance
That it is mine…
Not yours."
As he stood there staring at it in dismay, Nathan's ears picked up the sound of creaking. He drew his sword and spun, ready to attack this new adversary, though the Lady had only mentioned five.
What he found, instead, was a walled up alcove. Pushing at the rickety boards caused them to fall from their fixings. He ventured inside to discover a coffin, most probably that of the vampire, Dratik. It was ornate and dusty, suggesting a distinguished owner who had not used it for a long time.
The sight of its empty bed was tempting to him, which worried Nathan no small amount. He quickly turned away and headed back out of the mine.
Outside, he breathed a sigh of relief in the cold, mountain air. Then he winced as the sun came out from behind a cloud and the realities of his condition struck him like a hammer. Searching through his pack, he unearthed a potion, chugging it down quickly to alleviate the effects of the disease. The sunlight-induced headache faded away as his porphyric hemophilia was cured.
He headed back along the path, towards the shrine and his reward. The three worshippers looked up at him as he entered. He stopped stunned.
Are those tears? He wondered to himself, nervously stepping between the benches. I hope they aren't going to mob me now.
Thankfully, they didn't, for which Nathan was eternally grateful.
He had to wait until sundown for Azura to appear once more, and Mels had made him kneel in front of the statue as some sort of penance. The fact that he'd been sent to kill the unfortunate brethren did not dissuade the Dark Elf in the slightest.
Finally, the sun dipped below the mountains and the statue sprang to life.
Thank you mortal. Their spirits are free, and henceforth, above my shrine, five bright candles shall burn forever in memory of their sacrifice.
"Seems like a small reward for their suffering." Nathan mumbled, tipping forward when Mels kicked him. Azura smiled down at him.
For your service, take this token that your deeds might be entered in the Book of Fate.
Nathan looked at the Star in his hands.
"This is it?"
He looked up at the Lady, only to find she'd reverted back to a statue.
"That's it? That's all my reward is? What am I supposed to do with it?"
He spun round, and stormed up to Mels.
"What is your will, you who have been blessed by our Lady's voice?" The Dark Elf said calmly.
"Not to seem impolite or ungrateful, I mean it's really pretty and all," Nathan paused, sensing the Mels was trying to communicate something to him, "and probably very useful…"
Mels nodded with a smile that reached all the way to his eyes.
"… but I just killed five innocent people. I think I deserve a little extra, if you know what I mean." Nathan finished.
"The Great Lady has spoken…" Mels replied, "To you alone."
Nathan opened his mouth to state that that wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but Mels continued, joined by the other two worshippers.
"The moon and star shall be your guide." As one, they pointed to the path out of the clearing, "Farewell Star-bearer."
Nathan stalked out of the clearing, scowling and grumbling, "Next they'll be saying I'm the Nerevarine."