Guide:

Dwemeris

Thoughts

"Speech"

"Dovahzul"

Warnings/Disclaimer: see chapter 4

Chapter Warning(s): Cave exploration. Nerves. Not much else, but action at last! Mentions chopping off limbs and describes murder, too… somewhere.

Last time…

I clutch my amulet to my chest with an even larger grin. Wherever you are, Da, Ma, I hope you're still proud of me. Even though I have killed many by now… I hope they will not judge me harshly for it. My feet carry me along the cobblestone paths towards Windhelm, along the White river. The sun seems to shine brighter than yesterday and I leave the Valtheim Towers behind me, wondering what else will happen. Ivarstead can't be that far… right? Right.

Chapter 13 – Nagging Hags… No, not you. Them!

Two days and a fort full of angry mages later, I'm not so sure about this little trip anymore.

At least this… Darkwater Crossing place seems friendly. There's guards around, seizing me up even as I approach the nearest person to ask if there's a possibility for me to rest here for a night. After a sharp rebuff from a woman called Anneke, I try and goad her into a conversation - we end up spending a few hours swapping stories, not really getting anything done.

Telling people about the vampire coven incident in Morthal is getting old quickly, but by now, I have emptied and disbanded endless bandit encampments to fill her mind with an idea of what I'd been up to. "It's ridiculous, actually. I deal with some bandits, and all of a sudden they think I am there to solve all of their problems!" I grumble at the thought, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to Anneke something-Jumper.

She chuckles wryly, agreeing with a shrug of muscled shoulders. "I can actually barely believe you when you say you're not an adventurer, but a… what did you call it again? I've never heard of the job in all my travels."

"A Forgemaster, but only since very recently, mind you. It means I'm a blacksmith as well as an enchanter. Unfortunately, I haven't as much as touched a forge or arcane enchanter in almost a week, since I've been on the road." A shame is what it is. I can't wait until I get my hands on a hammer and some steel again.

She takes a swig of her ale, even as another miner walks over to listen in. "So you're saying you have experience with bandits? What about hags? Hey, Anneke, perhaps he can help us out?" I glance between the two warily. "You…have a hag problem?"

What IS a hag, anyway? Some shabby old lady?

The Dunmer sighs forlornly, scratching his bearded chin. "Well, yes, you see, they've been harassing us and stealing some of our-"

He's shoved none too gently by Anneke, who cuts him off. "As Sondas says, we've been robbed by hags. And wherever they are, there's sure to be Hagravens. I'd rather not tangle with those. I'd feel a lot happier knowing they're gone. You seem to be experienced with bandits, despite claiming you didn't chose to be so yourself. If you have the time, can you maybe help us? We – I would be most grateful."

I take a deep breath, taking a bite of some grilled leeks she offered me, as I think it over. "Are they close by? I'm afraid I'll not be able to help much when they're very far from here, since I'm headed to Ivarstead with some haste." Please give me an excuse not to meet with the Greybeards.

Sondas gives me an assessing look. "Snapleg cave is barely an hour from here, so distance isn't a problem?" I shake my head with some disbelief, barely believing that I'm going to get into trouble voluntarily. As in, of my own free will. Did the moon fall from the sky while I wasn't looking?

"I think I can do that, if someone showed me the way."

Anneke smiles thankfully. "If you would, we'd all be most grateful to you!" I give her an easy smile back, standing and stretching, deciding that I'm not at all tired yet even though the sun is slowly sinking in the sky. I think it's because of my excitement at testing the mettle of my new armour against more than just stray wolves and a sabercat. "I suppose I'll be headed there right now. No use in letting them get up to more problematic stunts, aye?"

Anneke nods eagerly and rises. "I can take you there, but I'll have to tell my husband first."

Soon, I'm back on the road with a companion again, and a very nervous one at that. I frown at her continuous fidgeting, the bowstring twanging sporadically in the early evening air definitely not settling my own nerves.

"Will you calm down before I get nervous, too?" Anneke chuckles hesitantly, rubbing the wood of her bow with a finger - she's had the damn thing drawn since we left Darkwater Crossing.

It's NOT helping. Sithis save me from jumpy companions. As the stones beneath my feet slowly make way for dirt as we turn a corner up a small hill, she freezes. Looking over her shoulder from where I'm walking slightly behind her, I easily spot the gaping, dark hole partially hidden from view.

"Well I suppose we're here. Man, this reminds me of the good old days, out in the wilds with my husband. Hey, if you don't mind, I'd love to join up with you, show those hags to keep their paws off my land." I nod silently, drawing my axe and dagger as I approach the cavern with something in my heart singing at the thought of a challenge.

"Very well."

And so we descend. I think I can learn to like Anneke Crag-jumper - especially since I read no fear from her expression in the dim light. The sharpened spikes and bloodstains I spotted around the entrance prove that this will not be a pleasant outing, and yet she merely takes an arrow from her quiver and nods determinedly.

Not bad, for a human.

The short tunnel leads us to a sinkhole in the ground, and the place reeks of death and decay as I spot two severed Skeever heads on pikes. I shudder in disgust – this is worse than any lack of bandit hygiene. And I rue the day someone figured that heads on pikes were acceptable for use in interior decorating.

Instead of glancing down the sinkhole at risk of being seen, I gesture for Anneke to follow after me as we carefully sneak down a ramp to the side, barely broad enough to step on, and the woman takes out the Skeevers down the path before I can even lift my dagger. Their squeals are hopefully not attracting unwanted attention.

"How many arrows do you carry?" I hiss as we're all the way down, creeping through yet another small passage, the Spriggan hearts lining the walls making my stomach turn. "Eleven." I nearly curse, but instead I huff quietly, glancing around the next corner before briefly facing her.

"You'd better have a good aim then."

Inside of my head, I'm too busy cursing at her to formulate any sentence that isn't downright rude, even if what she did, what she's doing, is phenomenally stupid.

She tenses, but I wave with my hand as if to say 'no threat yet'. I hear the tell-tale slimy, clipping sounds that mark at least one frostbite spider. And, uncovering my ears to hear even better - ignoring the small, breathless gasp of the woman behind me - I register scuffling feet. I raise three fingers, barely visible in the darkness. "At least three, one spider, two people." Anneke shifts, the barest hint of unease flickering in her gaze.

"Got it. Just raise your fingers next time." I nod, even as I turn the corner, crouching in the dark with my heart pounding with adrenaline. And aye, I spot two hags, one of them cooking something, and the other petting the frostbite spider I heard earlier. I'm already hating this place. And also not thinking about what's in that cooking pot.

I let Anneke fire her arrow first, grinning in silent appreciation as it nails the cooking woman right in the head, a bloody spray following her descent. At that, I jump out of my hiding spot, not breathing a word even as my axe bites into the first hag's arm as she throws them up to prepare a spell. Warm crimson splatters onto my cheek as I duck down below her other arm and the profusely bleeding stump of an elbow, coming up to her chest and burying my dagger into her heart with a feral snarl on my face.

A war cry behind me echoes briefly before a high-pitched squeal is heard as the spider goes down as well. She can at least hold up in a fight. Eleven arrows. Idiot.

Still breathing heavily with the sudden rush of adrenaline, I nod at Anneke, and she signals that she's okay. I quickly scan the area, opening the chest under the table quickly and pulling out two health potions, passing them both to my new friend even as I whisper: "I've got my own. We split the rest later."

Her lips twitch upwards as she pockets the potions. The crate I find is far more interesting than the chest, and I take the valuable items and soul gems only to put them with the other loot in the chest. We both try our hardest to avoid looking at the mounted heads on display all over the place.

The stench has the woman double over and empty her stomach regardless after a few moments, but it was an admirable effort while it lasted. I glance over briefly, too used to seeing all kinds of gory horrors in Falkreath and Morthal to have to do more than gag at the scent of decay, death, blood, bird and old sweat hanging heavily in the air.

After going through more winding and twisting tunnels and recoiling in horror at mammoth remains and a live troll, we move on as quickly as the cavern system will allow. I have to pull Anneke back at some point so she doesn't skewer herself on an ice spike trap, before ducking and disabling the simple mechanism.

She quietly informs me of the possible exit near the far wall, which I'd admittedly not seen, before we once more move onward, passing several desecrated bodies and a bandit corpse, the stench nearly my undoing as I gag again and nearly get pulverised by a humungous spider falling from the ceiling.

Anneke is down to six arrows by the time it lies curled up on its back.

Then, we come to a dead end.

"This can't be all of it, where's the Hagraven?" My companion mutters, walking around the cavern and searching for any openings. Whilst she attacks a bunch of cobwebs that cover another chest with possible loot and maybe a doorway, I spot a chain hanging from the wall. "Anneke." I call, carefully taking a hold of it. "I apologise if this is a trap."

Before I can hear her indignant 'what?!', I pull the chain harshly, the rattling sound bouncing off the walls.

"So, not a dead end after all." The woman sighs, almost disappointed now even as she sheathes her dagger. No shit. "I'm ridiculously low on arrows. Pity the hags don't use bows." Are you kidding me? I shrug, only slightly concerned – she's supposed to be the seasoned adventurer here. Surely, she can take care of herself. Then again, she's only human.

Aside from some alchemy ingredients which I discreetly pocket in my apothecary's satchel for experimenting later, there isn't much of interest until we reach the final chamber.

"Is… Is that a Spriggan?" I eye the glowing green forest creature curiously, barely registering Anneke's disbelieving murmur. It only takes a split-second for me to make a decision.

"We should free it."

Ignoring the hiss of "Are you insane?" with some practised ease originating from spending an extended period of time with the snarky Jenassa, I move up to the cage and start fiddling with the lock picks I'd scavenged from the bandits I'd taken care of in the past. We're as silent as possible, having long since noticed the Hagraven feathers on the filthy, bloody ground.

The Spriggan suddenly springs forwards once I pry the rusty cage open, whizzing past me towards the – I freeze. Oh shit, Hagraven.

"We've got company!" I call out, the bird-woman and her hag servant having long since spotted me. I raise my axes and roll out of the way of an ice blast, smiling sharply. This will be a challenge. Somehow, I've never been able to resist a challenge. It's only become far more pronounced since I woke up, back in Nchuand-Zel.

At least, I used to always have contests with Mellte. I liked it then, right?

…

It's two very haggard and weary travellers, happily carrying armfuls of loot, that leave the accursed cavern a while later.

Anneke is sporting a frostbitten spot on her leg but will otherwise be fine after she's filled herself with some warm food, and I've sustained next to no injuries, aside from mild burns on my hand, even though I mainly faced the Hagraven. Things became very easy, very quickly, once I'd chopped off the creature's arm. Needless to say, we're also drenched in blood, the sticky crimson dampening my mood slightly, but not enough to not recount every detail of the battles with my new friend, even as she makes grand gestures with her one free hand.

"Anneke?" I ask after we finally fall silent, Deepwater Crossing already in view as we cross the last bridge. I've considered something while we walked. "What is it?" She swings her pickaxe merrily, and I shuffle away from her a little. Well, even if she says no I don't think it'll matter much.

"If you miss adventuring that much, why don't you come play my guide for a bit? I have to get up to High Hrothgar, and prefer not to get lost on the way there." I suggest mildly, slightly hesitant since, well, she has a daughter and everything, won't she want to settle?

Luckily, I'm proven wrong right away.

Her entire face lights up like a beacon, the evening shadows stretching languidly across her features, making the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth even more pronounced. "I've always wanted to make the pilgrimage up there! I mean, what Nord doesn't?" She side-eyes me, and I realise that I hadn't bother to cover up my attention-drawing pointed ears again. They twitch under her scrutiny as my heart skips a beat.

"Then again, you aren't a Nord. Or a Breton, which was what I figured you were at first."

I quickly bring my hair down, gritting my teeth in annoyance, not at her, but at myself for forgetting that these people do not look kindly upon any other races, regardless of their own. Guess I can forget about - "I will go with you." My head swivels back to her from where my gaze had dropped to the cobblestones. "Really?" I breathe, I mean, Jenassa was for hire, she was contractually obligated to follow. Anneke isn't.

Skyrim seems to be full of interesting people.

I think happily as she smiles brightly back at me. "Of course! I miss my adventuring days… I cannot go with you too far, though. I have a daughter at Shor's Stone, though, and if possible, I'd like to visit." I nod along with her words patiently. Family is extremely important, I can't imagine ma letting me leave the city to set out on my own! And yet here I am, without her permission, too.

…Not that I had much of a choice. I add sourly, my shoulders sagging a little. Oh well. It's been months.

"After returning from High Hrothgar, I'm planning to go to Riften. Is Shor's Stone in that general direction?"

"It's right up north from there, yes. I'll travel with you until we get there. Oh, and it's a good thing you have me along with you – when you got here, you were travelling in the wrong direction for Ivarstead." I let out a small noise of dismay. So, I got lost after all. I suppose it was only a matter of time until that happened.

She laughs and clasps me on the shoulder when I facepalm. "There, there, it could have been worse." It could have been. "You're right, but still… My map doesn't even show the village!" The areas surrounding Markarth, Morthal, Solitude, Whiterun and of course Falkreath are already covered in small marks, and I'd even drawn up a caption on the back of the map to form a difference between forts, villages, mines, towers, camps – it's ridiculous.

I want a bigger map, or a high quality one. This one's got bloodstains and torn edges and smudge marks. It would have gotten me zero marks back in school.

"You've been some places, haven't you?" She grins, peering over my shoulder in the dim light before pointing a calloused finger at a random point southeast of where I'd drawn a small circle to signify High Hrothgar. "Here's Ivarstead. The easiest and shortest route is a little while back, over a dirt path. I suppose you can note that down, too, since you've drawn symbols all over this old thing."

I sigh, but pull out a piece of charcoal to quickly scribble a simplified house, alongside 'Ivrs.' Just like Riverwood had been marked 'Rvrw.' To someone who doesn't know Dwemeris, though, it just looks like more unnecessary scribbles.

"I take it we leave tomorrow?" Anneke asks then, eager grin still on her face. "Tomorrow at dawn." I agree, taking my bedroll out of my knapsack and wondering when I'd have time for –

"Anneke, can I ask you something? Where do you bathe around here?"

Cold river water upstream is not exactly the steam-controlled, warm Dwemer baths, not to mention soap is a luxury here. I am building a damn bathtub. With warm, running water, first thing once I get a decent house somewhere. Luckily, there are some Dragon's Tongue flowers to pick, which aside from being useful in alchemy also smell rather pleasant… Though not very masculine, not that I should be caring. I'd rather smell flowery than resemble Skeever butt.

…I can certainly do without the cold, though, I can't feel my toes.

A/N: I imagine my Dragonborn must stink to high heavens, covered in blood and dirt and filth and gore and never once bathing in the game. Please tell me what you think of my story so far – I'm building up to more important things, but I have enough wiggle room to make it go faster, if not as fun.