"Raminus has briefed me on what has happened so far" Captain Travian said as we settled down in a dingy Waterfront inn. "I've encountered the Crusaders before – nasty people. Really nasty"
"I thought I was aware of all the religious groups in Cyrodiil" Althren said. "This group seems to be huge though – how are they not widely known?"
"Because nobody likes to talk about them," Travian said, somewhat ominously. "They're extremists, fanatics, whatever you want to call them. Their underlying principles may be good, but their practices are not"
"I'm not sure I can consider the Nine to be 'good' after I found that they had engineered a doomsday device into the very world they created" Galvel mused.
"Quite" Travian replied. "We'll come back to that later, though. You need to know who you're up against. These are the bastards who stalk Cyrodiil, killing anyone who won't join their order, proclaiming them to be heretics, or running witch-hunts – laying siege to settlements for weeks, killing scores of innocent people, all supposedly in the name of the Gods"
"And yet the Gods supposedly condone them" Galvel said.
"I don't see this as the time for a theological debate, Magister Othrelos" Travian said. "Don't let their religious beliefs fool you – the Holy Crusaders are bad to the bone. And now they've discovered this secret that they are willing to kill to protect"
The Wayshrines.
"Anyway, we have three new players in this game that we need to track down. The first is a friend of mine…"
"Balak?" Theondel asked. "That ugly brute?"
"That ugly brute is how I know so much about the Holy Crusaders" Travian replied, scowling at his comrade. "He's my man on the inside. Six years ago, I sent him to infiltrate the group. Four years ago, he returned in secret to the University, told me everything he had found out, including a prisoner that the Crusaders have who they apprehended in Bramblepoint Cave…"
Theondel said a name again, but I wasn't listening. Everything had come full circle – we were not the first who this group had captured in Bramblepoint Cave. I wondered if they had found the original inhabitant of the cave, the apparent expert in the Wayshrines.
"The very same. Balak told me he was going to the Crusaders' base camp, so to speak, and by the sounds of it, you were all there too"
"You think they're both still alive?" Althren asked Travian.
"I expect so" Travian replied. "Lithnilian is probably their main source of knowledge, and Balak's too good to get himself killed. And I'm hoping that you four might be able to give me some information that could lead to the whereabouts of the Crusaders' fortress"
"All I could see were mountains," I said. "We could have been anywhere"
"Ah, yes, but you can narrow it down, Master Spires. For example, were the mountains covered in snow, or just tundra and permafrost?"
I looked at the Captain blankly for a second then answered. "The second one. There was bare ground below the peaks"
Theondel spoke next. "And how cold was it? Shit winters' day cold or Bruma at nighttime cold?"
"It was cold, but not unbearably so" Milie said.
"You were in the Valus Mountains, then. Never been up there before? They're sheltered from the worst of the north winds by the Jeralls and the mountains in Skyrim, but the south winds are channelled straight up the Niben valley towards them. The peaks of the Valus range are surprisingly warm"
"And the Valus Mountains bring us to our third key player" Travian continued. "His name is Yggskard. From Skyrim, a real bear of a man. He lives at a remote shrine to Molag Bal, more or less on the Morrowind border. A Daedra worshipper, but not a bad man, and bloody clever to boot"
"Molag Bal's daughter…" I thought aloud.
"Exactly. If anyone knows what the connection between Molag Bal's daughter and the doomsday device is, it's the combined minds of Lithnilian and Yggskard"
Soon, everyone quickly dissipated. Captain Travian, Theondel and Galvel all left to make battle preparations, whilst Althren went to the Mystic Archives for some reason that I was not privy to. Only myself and Milie, under the watchful eye of two guards inside the inn, remained.
"Do you remember how this started out, Milie?" I asked, taking a sip of my ale. "I overheard Magister Althren's lecture when I was at work, nothing more…"
"Even the greatest journey begins with a single step, Erris" Milie replied. "I've always loved the story of the Nerevarine – starting off as a prisoner, building a simple life in Seyda Neen, going on to defeat Dagoth Ur…"
"And we started off just wondering why light shone from broken Wayshrines. Look what it's got us into"
I could tell by Milie's expression that my words were sinking in – the mystery dating back for aeons, the crossing of Ayleid technology into Divine sorcery, our apprehension by the mysterious Divine Crusaders, the deaths of Ancius and Ratty, and now Captain Travian seeming to turn the expedition into taking the fight to the Crusaders.
"Sometimes I wish it was just the three of us again," I continued.
"Me too" Milie said softly. "Me and my two boys, setting off joyfully on an adventure… Are you alright?"
"I'll really miss him," I said wistfully. "I don't know what I'll do if I survive this…"
Milie smiled sweetly. "Just for you, I'll try and survive as well"
Suddenly I was reminded of the strange dream I experienced whilst unconscious and being taken to the Divine Crusaders' fortress. The dream may have been showing me the end of the world. Myself and Milie were in love, though, and I could not deny that. Was it a vision of the future? Was our love something mapped out before us that we were yet to realise? And more importantly, were we going to be there to watch the end of the world?
Travian, Galvel and Theondel had been gone for a whole day when they returned to our camp high up in the Valus Mountains – I had to confess to having no idea where we were. I could just about glimpse White Gold Tower's magical spire on the western horizon, but that was it.
Whatever they had been doing at the Holy Crusaders' fortress, it had been a tough fight. They were all covered in cuts and scratches, Travian walking with a slight limp, and Galvel with a huge burn mark across the front of his robe. Two others were with them – an Orc in a white robe and an Altmer.
The Orc was Balak gra-Aurash, Travian's 'man on the inside'. He made sure the others reached camp then evidently decided to head back to the fortress before anyone noticed he was missing.
Lithnilian, the Altmer, was the scholar whose work we had encountered in Bramblepoint Cave – the prisoner of the Holy Crusaders that Captain Travian had spoken of. He looked confused, beaten and malnourished – evidently he had not been rewarded well for the information he had given them.
Althren shook hands with his fellow Altmer. "Good to see you, Lithnilian"
"And you, Magister" Lithnilian replied hoarsely. "Never did I think my research project would end up like this…"
"Your project is the only way we knew where to find you" Althren said. "Did you notice anything strange happen… oh, it must have been a few days ago now"
"Yes, there was a bright flash of light and something more, a spiritual feeling of uneasiness… I knew that they had activated their Wayshrine… you don't know about that, though…"
"Yes, we do" I said. "And it doesn't fill me with happy memories, so shall we move on?"
"Of course, my friend" Lithnilian said to me. "So, where are we? Why am I here?"
"Morrowind border, pretty much" Galvel said.
"And you're here because we're taking to you to see Yggskard" Althren added.
Lithnilian paused. "Now there's a name I haven't heard for a while…"
Althren and Captain Travian then filled Lithnilian in on everything that had happened so far. I quickly drifted off from the conversation, taking in the spectacular views around us instead. Soon, it was announced that we would be continuing, with Travian leading the way to the remote Molag Bal shrine where this knowledgeable Nord supposedly lived.
Yggskard turned out to be a tall, hairy-bearded fellow with shoulders as wide as an oak tree. He was dressed in thick fur, spoke with a deep, booming voice and was tremendously friendly, offering us all mead and stew as soon as he saw and recognised Travian and Althren approaching the shrine. So we sat and dined, a rough, worn stone statue of Molag Bal towering above us. There was no-one else at the shrine – the silence high up in the mountains was eerie.
"Now, you two are going to solve a mystery for us" Travian said eventually, glancing between Yggskard and Lithnilian.
"What might that be?" Yggskard asked as he took a swig of mead from a wooden tankard.
"Molag Bal's daughter" Lithnilian asked. "Something related to magicka – in Morrowind – but I know he has many daughters…"
Yggskard's eyes widened. "I think I know which one you may be talking about, though. Go on…"
"I heard a tale that Molag Bal once had a follower execute his daughter for consorting with an atronach" Lithnilian said.
"Damn, and I thought my old man was a stern guy…" Theondel remarked to laughter.
"Anyway" Lithnilian snapped. "Althren, you will follow my reasoning. What is an atronach but a conglomeration of elemental magic?"
Once again, another in-depth conversation began between Lithnilian, Milie, Galvel and Althren. I couldn't understand much of what was said, but I did learn that the salts left behind by dead atronachs are a solidified form of magicka, much like Welkynd glass. They say you learn something new every day…
"Nomeg Gwai – that's one of Molag's daughters – was always dangerously obsessed with destruction," Yggskard said. "Always coming up with ever more elaborate plots to destroy Nirn. Thought she could win her dad's favour that way, you know?"
"He knew too…" Galvel said softly.