Snowflakes fluttered down all around me as I trudged up to the Skaal village. The pickaxe the blacksmith gave me was strapped to my back. If what Crescius said about him stealing it was at all true, they deserved to have it back. Besides, they likely had a far better use for the thing than I did.

Up ahead, at the edge of the village, I saw two people arguing.

"Deor, you must be calm," the woman said, holding onto the man's arm. "I'm sure there's a good reason Baldor left us."

He shrugged her off. "Something isn't right, Fanari. I feel it in my bones and I smell it in the air. Baldor wouldn't leave without telling someone."

"Don't worry yourself over nothing, Deor. Do you want a head full of gray hairs before you've seen forty winters?"

"It makes my heart heavy that you don't believe me, Fanari. Baldor, could be in danger, and you will do nothing. If you won't help me, then I'll ask the All-Maker to send someone else who can."

I had no idea who that "All-Maker" was, but I had the distinct feeling that I was going to be that "someone."

The woman, Fanari, walked away, leaving the man standing alone. He turned a little at the sound of my approaching footsteps and grumbled, "I am in no mood to talk, outsider. One of the Skaal has gone missing."

"Who?"

"It is Baldor Iron-Shaper. As our only smith, Baldor is very important to the village."

He was also the man I was coming to see. Great.

"Why would anyone want to kidnap him?" I asked.

The man sighed. "Well, there is one reason that comes to mind. Baldor is the keeper of an ancient tradition, the forging of Stalhrim. It is an art we Skaal hold sacred. If someone wanted to make such weapons, they would have to get that knowledge from Baldor."

Remembering what the smith had said about the ore, I could see why someone might be that desperate. "Did anything… unusual happen around the time he went missing?" I asked.

"Hmm." The Skaal scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I do not remember Baldor acting strangely. Although, now that you ask, I did see something in the woods on the day he disappeared. I saw two elves in the far distance, dragging something behind them. Hunters often visit our lands, so I thought little of it."

There were an awful lot of elves on that island.

"Where were they headed?"

"South and west." He pointed in that direction. "If your road takes you that way, perhaps you could search for any sign of Baldor. The Skaal would be grateful."


The trail led me across the island to a spot southwest of Miraak's shrine. There, hidden in the woods, was a lone cabin. Like everything else on the island, it looked fairly old and worn-out. There was a fire pit out front. Two mer sat beside it on a long, split log that served as a crude bench. Both of them were dressed in black armor trimmed with matching fur to keep away the cold. I also noted the faint gilding on it. Only one group I knew of had that particular color scheme.

My hand twitched toward the hilt of my blade.

One of them looked up. His angled eyebrows furrowed and he snapped, "Move along. There's nothing for you here."

I laughed coldly. "Oh, but I think there is. You wouldn't have happened to see a couple of Thalmor goons with a kidnapped Skaal around here, would you?"

He looked at his companion and let out a long sigh. "All you had to do was keep away. What a pity."

Together, they both jumped to their feet and raced toward me, drawing their weapons. I threw fire at the first, buying me some time to draw my own sword. While he tried to douse the flames, I slashed his throat open.

The second deflected my first blow. Sneering, he told me, "You will die on this island, interloper."

He missed deflecting my next strike and I stabbed him through the gut. He gasped.

"I don't think so," I growled.

He toppled and I stepped over the body, marching toward the house. However, something on the bench caught my eye. A note. I examined it.

I grow impatient with your lack of progress. If you cannot break the smith, I will be forced to find a more capable interrogator. I expect your next report to contain more encouraging results.

A

So Baldor was there somewhere. Probably in the house. I tossed the note into the fire and hurried into the cabin.

It was mostly comprised of one main, dark room. It appeared to be a normal, if somewhat rundown, house. At one end of the room, however, was a set of stairs leading down. I descended cautiously.

There was another room down there with some sparse furniture. At the far end of the room, huddled in the shadows, was a hunched figure. The stairs creaked beneath my feet and I saw him look up at me.

"I have been taken against my will! I am in need of rescue!" He shouted.

I raced down the rest of the stairs and across the room to him. It was Baldor, I was sure of that. He was dressed completely in furs, just like the rest of the Skaal. His hands were bound behind his back. I drew my knife.

As I cut through the ropes, he said with a relieved laugh, "I remember you! You are the one who freed the Skaal from the dark spell. Thank the All-Maker that you have come. These accursed elves have taken me from my home."

"Did they hurt you badly?" I asked as the rope finally snapped. "Do you need any healing?"

He shook his head. "No. No, my wounds are not serious. I don't think the elves were trying to harm me. Perhaps they intended to frighten me. At worst, I have a few bruises to show for my ordeal."

"Did the Thalmor say why they abducted you?"

"I do not know this word "Thalmor,"" he said, "but if you mean the elves, they were trying to learn the secrets of forging Stalhrim. Their leader, an elf named Ancarion, has a map. He says that it shows the location of a hidden source of Stalhrim."

"And where can I find this Ancarion?" I asked.

"They have a ship. They took my there and showed me the map. You will find it on the northern coast of the island. Please, do not let Ancarion make his weapons. Kill him or let him live, but take the map from him. It belongs with the Skaal."

"Don't worry," I told him grimly. "I'll get it back, no matter what it takes."


Just as Baldor had said, there was a ship moored on the northern end of Solstheim, settled below the sheer cliffs of ice. Barrels and crates sat on or near the dock that the Thalmor had erected there. I walked toward it and my boots crunched over the black stones that covered the beach.

One of the Thalmor agents stood guard at the stairs leading up to the dock. He glared at me and told me in a distinctly unfriendly way, "You are trespassing here. I strongly suggest you move along."

"Ancarion runs all of this, yes?" I asked. "I have… business to discuss with him."

He regarded me coolly for a moment before pointing to the ship. "You will find him on the deck. Any hint of treachery, and your life is forfeit."

I marched up onto the ship. There, as promised, the Altmer who must have been Ancarion stood on the deck, examining what appeared to be a map. He was dressed in the gold-trimmed hooded robes that signified his higher rank, though they seemed warmer than the ones I'd seen in the past. My footsteps creaked over the deck's wooden planks and he turned sharply at the sound.

"Leave at once," he snapped. When I didn't move his face hardened and he spat, "Do not test me, or I promise that you will regret it."

"I'm here about the Stalhrim map," I said. "The one you're holding, I assume."

He lowered it slowly, rolling it back up as he did, and watched me with wary eyes. "So you know my purpose here, then? I suppose you must have found that dullard of a blacksmith."

"I did."

He chuckled. The sound was as cold and unforgiving as the cliffs looming above us. "My mission here is a secret, unfortunately. Normally, I'd have no choice but to silence you to protect it. However, there is something… special about you, isn't there?"

I moved to take a step back, but he was faster. Ancarion reached out with a move like a striking snake, and tugged down my hood. I felt the wind tug at the strands of hair that managed to come loose from the knot I wore it in. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

"Yes, there is indeed something special about you, Mara Dragonborn," he said. "Or would you rather I call you Mara Fides? It is quite the honor, meeting the Champion of Cyrodiil in the flesh."

My heart thundered in my ears. "How did you–?"

"Oh, I know a great deal about you, Champion. So many things you tried to keep hidden from the world. Things my superiors would be very interested in hearing." He snapped his fingers and called, "Grab her."

I Shouted, slamming him against the ship's mast with a loud crack. He slid to the deck and lay still. Not wanting to take chances, I drew my sword and stabbed him through the heart. Footsteps thundered against the dock and I whirled around to see the other Thalmor agents running toward me with weapons drawn. I summoned fire to my other hand.

How many of them knew? He had he known? How had he known?

I threw fire at the first agent who came close and slashed open the throat of the second. Fear and anger pounded through my veins. Before I really knew what was happening, all the mer lay dead around me.

I was shaking when I grabbed the map from Ancarion and stepped off the ship. I'd tried to be careful, so how had he found out who I was?

Once I made it back onto the beach, I turned back toward the dock and Shouted, "Yol toor shul!"

Fire roared over the wood planks of the dock and the ship, over the crates and licked up the sail. It would destroy everything on that ship I might have missed. For the moment, at least, my secret might be safe.


"It is good to see you again, my friend," Baldor said when I returned to the Skaal Village. He stood by the forge, looking anxious. "Did you find the elves at their ship?"

"I did, and I've brought you the map to the Stalhrim source," I said, holding the scroll out to him.

He took it with a smile. "I know you faced great danger to bring this map to me. There are no words to tell how glad my heart is. Thank you, brave one."

Remembering why I'd gone to the Skaal Village in the first place, I unstrapped the pickaxe from my back.

"Oh, and there's also this." Unwrapping it, I held it out to Baldor. "I got this from a man in Raven Rock. I felt it would be better in your hands rather than mine. You know what to do with it."

"Indeed, I do," he said, taking it from me as well. "Until out next meeting, Skaal-friend. May your hunts always bring you game and your crops grow tall and bountiful."

"Thank you."

With a nod, I turned to walk back toward the entrance of the village. I'd barely gone more than a few feet before I heard a voice call out, "Dragonborn."

Turning around, I saw Storn sitting on a wooden bench outside of one of the houses. He beckoned to me.

"What is it?" I asked, coming to stand before him.

"I would have nothing to do with it," he explained in a careful voice, "but the dark elf wizard, Neloth… He came to us some time ago, asking about Black Books. I believe he knows a great deal about them. Perhaps too much. Seek him out to the south."

I frowned, feeling puzzled. "Why do you think this Neloth can help me find the Black Books?"

"He is also searching for them. In fact, he has already found one. He showed it to me when he came here. It was very like the one you found in Miraak's temple. A thing of dark magic, not of the All-Maker."

So there were more of the books floating around Solstheim. That was… interesting.

Leaning forward, Storn warned me, "Be cautious, Dragonborn. There is something else at work here."