When she next awoke, the moons were high in the sky. The Dragonborn groaned from the ache nipping at her muscles and rubbed her forehead in hopes of easing the dull, throbbing pain in her skull. A clumsy attempt to grab onto something and stand up only resulted in the floor suddenly tilting under her feet. Saya came tumbling out of the boat which she just accidentally flipped over, crashing into the cold dirt with a quiet 'oof' and lying there for a minute or two before she sighed heavily and finally mustered up the strength to stand up.
While she wiped her face, the events that transpired a few hours earlier slowly came back to her. That's right, I took Serana back to her castle, met her father… Fuck, her father. I should probably tell that to someone, huh?
The inner monologue continued for a little while as she pushed the boat back into its hiding spot, contemplating if she made the right choice yesterday. She certainly didn't want to become whatever in Oblivion that thing was, but at the same time, Serana's interactions with her father were… Troubling, to say the least. The first that sprung to mind was that she should tell the Dawnguard, but at the same time the Blades would probably want to know as well. On top of that, she was really starting to feel the exhaustion piling on after having traveled without Annie for half a week, so she was really craving a nice, soft bed right about now…
Her thought process was interrupted by a particularly intrusive chirping sound in her ear. The Dragonborn turned her head to the source, and saw Kura sitting on a nearby rock, looking at her curiously and tapping one of its legs where a letter was attached. The girl laughed softly and scratched the back of the bird's head.
Sky Haven it is, then.
Well, it looks like I missed Fortunata by only a few days. In her letter, she writes that she got back from Northwatch right around the time that I was exploring Dimhollow, and Esbern had his work cut out for him once again. Luckily though, in the meantime there had been some new arrivals, though she wanted me to talk to them in person instead of learning about them by letter. I didn't take ol' lady Veridis to be the type for surprises, but hey, as long as they're pleasant.
I dragged my ass to Solitude and arrived there in the dead of fucking night. By the Three and Nine and however many more there are, I just want to drop dead. Inn beds may not be the highest quality but at this hour, I'm fine with anything short of faceplanting into the dirt.
Lights out.
Morndas, the 24th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201
I wouldn't want to make falling unconscious from exhaustion a habit, but I have to admit that I slept really, really well. I even tried going back to sleep a few times, it was that good. But since I'm awake and it's early, I had a few hours to fuck around and do whatever, so might as well make it productive, right? I decided to sit down and do some appraisal with all the shit I've been finding, because I really can't keep carrying around things I don't need if I can just as easily pawn them off for a pretty drake.
I had about a handful of rings and amulets that I just needed to clean up, and they looked as good as new. The tricky part would be convincing the buyer… Though again, I could always go to a court wizard instead of a random jewelry store. Sybille might be interested, with her being a vampire and whatnot. Can't help but wonder how nobody's spotted her yet.
Alright, Sybille bought them. Now my pockets are that much lighter and my purse is that much heavier. I honestly did not expect her to be that interested, but she said that she had been really invested in doing some research about the local vampire clans, and this would give her some good insight into what they might've been like. Now I do enjoy me a bit of history every now and again, but I'm not that much of a nut, so I let her do her thing without too much questioning.
Oh also, the weird rings I found but couldn't figure out what they do? Sybille told me almost immediately what they were. They are enchanted, but the enchantment is essentially "locked" - it only activates if the wearer is a vampire. Awful convenient if you ask me. I decided to keep both of them, as Sybille herself said she has no need of them.
Maybe the Dawnguard can figure out some way to transfer the enchantments without the limitations. Either way, the important part is that the Volkihar won't get their hands on them.
But that's enough daytime wasted. Sun's almost at its zenith, I should get a move on.
I made a quick stop by Karthwasten since I was passing through, give my legs a little rest. I figured I'd just get a drink, ask around for rumors, and then get a move on, but I ended up getting recognized by one of the miners.
Apparently that dragon I killed had actually been messing with the people for almost two months, but stayed in its lair too much for anyone to deal with it in any permanent way. Many people and shipments have been lost to the big bastard, and one of the biggest trading arteries of the province pretty much got cut off. Until we killed it, that is.
So instead of a quick drink, I instead got two rounds for free. Just sitting around, chatting with the folks, sharing some stories. It was… Nice. I could get used to it.
They told me that Karthwasten has been just barely holding up in recent times. With the Forsworn Rebellion really kicking off, they first suffered from the raiders interrupting their trade. As if that wasn't enough, earlier this year the Silver-Bloods decided to wage racket with their mercenaries, closing down the mine "out of safety concerns" and trying to coerce the local landlord, Thane Ainethach, into selling it to them.
Then, a random Reachman girl came riding through and put the mercs in their place. A little later, the breakout at Cidhna Mine happened. Then I showed up, and killed the dragon terrorizing their populace.
And now, well, they're kind of rolling in gold and things are finally looking up, for once. Good for them! Good for them.
As the doors of Sky Haven Temple shut behind her, the Dragonborn allowed herself to sigh with relief. For the first time in a while, she finally felt like she was somewhere truly safe, and the relaxation that came with it made her suddenly aware of more exhaustion-induced aches than she knew she could have. The echo of her footsteps carried itself far into the halls beyond, but the ones inside knew better than to worry, and instead the sound of her arrival was drowned out by the ambience of conversation within.
The main hall of the Temple had changed so much that Saya almost didn't recognize it. The previously empty braziers were all full of charcoal, emitting a soft light that illuminated the entire interior. Dust and cobwebs have been cleaned out in many places, to the point where she hadn't even realized half of them had any to begin with until now. Hanging down proudly from the pillars were now red Imperial banners, but each and every one of them edited by hand to instead transform them into the old emblem of the Blades - the ruby dragon of the Empire with a jeweled crown above its head and two swords crossed behind its back, symbolic of the way the order had protected the Emperor and their nation every waking moment of their existence. Finally, one couldn't not notice the dragon bone decorations placed around the room, subtly adding little bits of character to the chamber.
The long table was no longer barren, but filled with food and drink, lit by candles in dragonbone candelabras. The girl heard laughter and conversation as she approached, and she saw twice as many faces and voices than what she had last encountered. Fortunata was the first to notice Saya closing in, lifting her tankard and grinning. Evidently, she was not completely sober, but it did her good to not wear her grumpy face every day. "Took you long enough! Come on, come on, everything is still piping hot!"
Saya's lips stretched into an unwilling smile as she approached the table and pulled up a seat, crashing into it. "Well, I almost got shitfaced on the way but, through sheer force of will and tiredness, I crawled here just for you."
The Breton snorted. "Ass."
The Dragonborn laughed as well, reaching out to grab herself a plate and some utensils. As she gave the table's attendants a quick look, she did an internal headcount. To the opposite side of her sat Fortunata, surrounded on both sides by men - Esbern on her left and the now-freed prisoner - Fultheim, was it? - on her right. Meanwhile on her side were two pleasant surprises - Aerin and Mjoll, with Aerin being the closer one to her.
If one word were to describe Fultheim, it'd be 'rough'. His wide chin and square jaw gave him a threatening appearance, and his thick black eyebrows contributed to that. The top of his head was completely bald, most of the hair receding down to wrap around his temples and the back of his head. His aquiline nose completed the profile, giving him the impression of a man who was perpetually this close to a full-on scowl at any given moment.
He leaned forward in his chair, putting one elbow on the table and resting his head on it. "You must be the Dragonborn, eh? Don't look like much to me."
Fortunata rolled her eyes immediately, bumping him with her elbow jokingly while Saya snickered into her newly-poured tankard of mead. "Don't even start."
"You didn't tell me you were Dragonborn when we last met." Mjoll pitched in, wiping her lips after a hearty gulp of mead. "That answers a lot."
"A little too much, if you ask me." The redhead quipped, pouring herself some wine and joining the conversation in earnest. And oh boy, was there a lot to talk about.
Mjoll and Aerin told of their journey to the Karthspire and how an assassin ambushed her on the way. No doubt, sent by one of the Black-Briars. Though she didn't complain, the encounter gave her a good excuse to try out Grimsever after their long time apart. Esbern talked about his findings: Akaviri manuscripts describing the crafting process of armor and weapons that may even be superior to modern Blades designs; scrolls and tomes illustrating the ancient magical and martial arts of the Dragonguard, along with points of advice on neutralizing various targets, be it dragons, people, or more bestial opponents; and of course, the Thalmor records of operations - reconnaissance data on the movements and stations of Imperial and Stormcloak troops, supply routes, ambush points, located Talos shrines which lay as traps for unknowing worshippers… Fortunata had to almost shove food into his mouth to give him pause.
"What's wrong, fortune wheel? Are you that eager to tell your part?" The Dragonborn had propped her legs up on the table at this point, a little too close to falling over for anyone's comfort but her own. It had been about two hours since she had returned now, and the alcohol was definitely starting to kick in.
Mjoll chuckled into her tankard. Aerin had excused himself about half an hour earlier, and was currently collapsed in his bunk, snoring away the inebriation. "I mean, I am curious to hear about it. Aren't you?"
"I mean, yeah." Saya scratched the back of her head. "Though I think it's a bit weird that you didn't open with it, instead."
Fultheim shook his head. Out of the entire group, he was perhaps the most sober one at the moment, and as a result - the most nonplussed of them all. "That's because if you asked her first, nobody else would get a word-"
"No, it's because you save the best part for last, mister prisoner." The Blade pushed Fultheim's face away, interrupting him quite rudely. If she hadn't been his rescuer, he thought, she would definitely be clocked out on the floor right now. "And I'll have you know, it was a damn adventure is what it was!"
"And so she goes…" The second oldest and second most sober person on the table said, smirking under that facial hair of his. Esbern was part of the three people who were already aware of exactly what happened at Northwatch, but that made him less bored of the story and more interested in how Fortunata would exaggerate it now that she was, for all intents and purposes, well and truly hammered.
At long last, the Breton piped down and finished off her drink, leaning forward before she spoke in an exaggeratedly dramatic voice. "So, it all started twelve days ago..."
FV
I stayed with Esbern for a time at first, looking for anything that could help me with Northwatch before I had to go there and gather my own information. The messages between Ondolemar and the Justiciar could only tell me so much about the information, but there was one pattern that we did find - they did not buy supplies at nearby holds. Instead, they delivered them by water, possibly directly from the Isles. After that, Northwatch would redistribute them between the Embassy and other agencies. The shipments were monthly, usually in the third week.
I arrived on the 12th, with enough supplies to last me three or so days. My first concern was finding a place where I could make camp without it being too far from Northwatch, but not so close that the Thalmor could find it. I settled on a small burrow directly east, maybe half an hour of walking away from the keep. Killing all the trolls and animals inside left me tired enough, so I spent the rest of the day settling down in the cave and creating shelter so that even if someone walked in, they couldn't immediately spot me without rummaging around for at least a few hours.
The next few days, I spent watching. I made a map of the outside and charted the patrols, at least the ones I could see. There were guards stationed outside the main gates, standing eight hour shifts. The four on the walls were the same, circling the perimeter and switching out one by one every four hours, each one on an eight hour shift. I could already see the gaps where each shift created a window for getting close, but the only entrance at that point was the front, and it was not an option. They brought in some prisoners at one point, too - people in masks, like what we had seen in Riverwood. I have no idea what they needed them for. I guessed it was some kind of interrogation, but they have nothing to do with Talos. The Thalmor had to have been looking into their activity independently.
On the 15th, right as the sun was setting, I got a hold of a messenger headed for Markarth - no doubt, to bring news to Ondolemar. Raerek and his people did a good job covering up his death if none of his people found out about it by then. I intercepted the courier and his letter, which said that a new shipment of supplies had been sent and would be arriving in three days from now. I already had a plan cooking up in my head by then, so I went to bed for an early start the next day. That day, I walked back to Solitude to buy extra provisions for the road, and paid a visit to the local alchemist. For completely wholesome reasons, of course.
I spent that night at the docks. The ship arrived in the early morning, before anyone could be bothered to unload the cargo, so I snuck in and did my best to tamper with as many things as I could. Little things that wouldn't be noticed immediately: unsealing the foods that spoil quickly, making holes in the sacks with grain or flour, pouring water on the cloth - all things that could happen by accident, but didn't. All of that was a big diversion so that these obvious problems would be dealt with. And then as a parting gift, I spiked the wine barrels. Every single one of them. All I had to do after that was wait and watch. The following night is when I decided I'd make my move.
FV
"Wait, hold on." Saya waved her hand, pausing Fortunata's immersive storytelling session. Esbern had fallen asleep by now, quietly snoring in his seat, while Fultheim still watched with arms crossed and one eye open. The Dragonborn and Mjoll were the only two who were listening with their utmost attention, even if Mjoll's was starting to blur a little. "What did you put in the wine that they wouldn't notice? Don't they have like, enchantments to detect poison and shit?"
"They do, so I didn't put in poison." Fortunata smirked, tilting her head to the side. "All I did was buy some medicine for my incredibly bad stomach problems, and the alchemist was happy to provide. Who could have thought that a healthy person drinking that medicine would suffer from negative consequences?"
It took a moment for Saya to register what was happening here. Then, she slowly lifted her palm to her face and started giggling. "You- you did not. You did not put a fort of Thalmor out of commission by making them shit themselves."
"No, I didn't." The Breton grinned, gulping down her drink. "But it did seal their backends bad enough that I might as well have poured glue down their prissy golden asses."
And with that, Saya's shit was well and truly lost. No pun intended.
FV
It was the night of the 19th when I decided to make a move, the day after the ship left the harbor. The guards were all tired and irritated from my little "present", so I slipped in through the back entrance - stop giggling, we're getting to the good part! - and made my way up onto the walls. There, I dispatched all four watchers, and the next shift change was still four hours away. The guards up in the front were the next, and the ones in the inner courtyard came last.
Inside, the patrols were almost nonexistent. A bunch of long hallways with armored Thalmor sitting on chairs, staring off into walls for hours. Some of them were half-asleep, can't imagine they could get a good night's rest with their stomachaches. My main target was the barracks, which I found by listening for the groaning and bitching of everyone inside. All it took was a small barrel of kindlepitch and a single spark.
Now that I was sure everyone still left was awake and running for the barracks, I made my way downstairs, where the cell blocks were. It was there that I found the Justiciar in charge of the keep, who actually recognized me when I spilled her guts on the floor. She was just in the middle of interrogating one of the masked men - now unmasked, of course. This one wasn't as distressed as the one we interrogated, but he had a damn sharp tongue considering his situation and wouldn't stop preaching about the coming of his Lord. I put him and his little friends out of his misery and opened up all the cells, including the one with Fultheim.
The prisoners quickly looted the bodies for weapons and busted out, while Fultheim and I worked on dumping the corpses into the assigned disposal dumpsters. The way I thought about it, the best way to keep people from finding out that Northwatch has fallen was to make it seem empty. Nobody will go in to check up on them until the next shipment, and that would mean a full month of silence. So, we worked through the night, meticulously hiding every body downstairs until the keep looked completely desolate, and then we left the snow to bury it all.
FV
"So, we were already back here three days ago. The next day, Mjoll and her friend came around. That Aerin boy is a delight for Esbern, at least. He really needed a helping hand with all the papers, better yet a willing one." Fortunata snickered, scratching the back of her head. "The two bookworms in the world finally found each other."
The Dragonborn snorted and instantly regretted it, coughing and spitting out the drink that accidentally made its way into her nose. She had, frankly, only been half-listening by the end of the tale, but if the look on Fortunata's face told her anything, things went very well. "Ah, good, good. I honestly felt bad for the old man, combing through books all on his own this whole time."
"Then why not help him?"
Saya stroked her chin thoughtfully, gazing off into the distance before responding. "...On second thought, I don't feel that bad."
"I'll drink to that." The Breton snorted, lifting her mug. Saya looked at her, then back at the mug, sighed, and poured herself another drink.
"Cheers."
Tirdas, the 25th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201
Damnit, damnit, gods-fucking-damnit! Argh, I'm so PISSED OFF! This was supposed to be my day off, for fuck's sake!
Oh, I haven't written anything today. I should probably explain what happened first.
So those scrolls of the old Dragonguard that Esbern dug up? The ones with the combat moves and spells? Yeah, that's what happened. I have no idea what possessed me to try and reenact them, but I've been trying to get this one move right for the past four bloody hours, and every time I've tried, I failed miserably. And I'm extra annoyed, because this damn thing is a flame spell and flame magic is just about the only thing I'm actually good at when it comes to spellcasting, and I still can't pull it off!
Ugh, that sounded more depressing than I thought it would.
The gist of it is, it's a really, really precise technique that requires a lot of control over your magicka. You need to first release a stream of flame, then maintain it at a certain length without it dissipating like fire usually does, and then use that to strike from afar, like cracking a whip. Hence the name - "Lava Whip".
I guess I should try to avoid burnout - no pun intended - and find something else to do. Ever since I poked the Atronach Stone, my magicka has been really slow on the uptake. This, by the way, in no small part contributed to why I've been practicing for FOUR FUCKING HOURS.
I'll just… Go fetch Mjoll or something. Maybe she'll be down to spar. I need to burn off this energy.
Fuck, I just keep doing it. Frincheps wishes he had even half my sense of humor.
Yeah, okay. I can see how Mjoll took down a dragon. That girl is BEEFY.
Irileth's advice is really starting to come back to me. Mjoll is strong and she knows it, so taking her head-on is just not an option. Gotta resort to weaving around her and using her own momentum to throw her off rhythm, and then look for an opening. Then again, she doesn't seem to really care much for covering those openings of hers.
She's aware of it, though - Fultheim apparently made his complaints very well known when he was coaching her earlier. That guy was definitely a legionnaire when he was younger.
I decided to fuck around a bit with the stuff we had lying around, too. Specifically stuff like dragon remains. With Aerin helping out with archive work, Esbern now has some free time to experiment with the bits and pieces we brought back. He says he might be able to make potions out of dragon blood if he just figures out how to keep it from coagulating when he heats it up. Can't exactly drink a solid scab-in-a-bottle.
As fascinating as that is though, I'm no real alchemist and my knowledge of that stuff is very rudimentary, so more power to him. I'll go back to practicing.
I'm mad. Screw this.
Middas, the 26th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201
I'm currently on the road from Sky Haven to Rorikstead, and I am very very bored, so I am going to make the smart and responsible decision of not paying attention to where I'm going and instead write in my journal as I walk.
Why Rorikstead specifically? Because it's on the way to Whiterun, and without Annie making the trip straight to Whiterun in one day is going to be pain incarnate.
Yesterday we did a very useful thing called talking and planning. Specifically, now that we have more members to go around, we decided to do some division of responsibility.
First and foremost, everyone without exception was taught how to summon Kura. Everyone. It's a simple spell, and Kura is not a dangerous summon so even if you fuck up the binding nothing bad should happen. That way, we can all communicate as needed.
Secondly, I was allowed to do my own thing. The Dawnguard could prove to be useful allies if they are interested in hunting down some dragons on the side, and if not - the vampires are still a big enough threat for me to look into it. Especially if they have an Elder Scroll.
Third, Mjoll and Fortunata would be on dragon duty. More specifically, Mjoll would go on province-wide trips - each one should take about two weeks at most - and just… Investigate. Gather intel. Dragon sightings, rumors of dragon cultists, anything she could find by just listening to the people. Everything Mjoll finds would then be checked back with Fortunata, who will sort out the false claims and forward the actual findings back to me. Then if I'm in the area, I do some hunting. If both myself and Mjoll are close by, then all the better. If not, Fortunata herself could go out and help Mjoll take it down, and then send me the location to pick up the soul later if it's still around.
It's not an ideal system by any means but it's better than nothing. I need to work on my Shouting more. I've been slacking on my training for a hot minute now, and that's how incidents happen.
Alright, I have stumbled four times now so I think that's a sign from the universe that I should probably pay attention where I'm going.
Wait, where am I.
Turdas, the 27th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201
Well, I'm in Whiterun again. A day without having to eat rations is a lucky day for me.
I ended up traveling alongside a family of two, who were going in the same direction: an innkeeper named Mralki and his son, Erik. And the latter was rather… Vocal of his intentions.
Mralki used to be a soldier during the Great War, so Erik grew up with his father careful to never inspire any kind of love for danger in him. For better or worse, the lad still developed a love for heroics and has been dreaming about becoming an adventurer for most of his life. This has been something of a pain for his da, who didn't have the desire nor the means to fulfill his son's ambitions. Ultimately though, some particularly generous fellow was coming through and gave them some gold after hearing about the situation.
So now they're going to buy armor for Erik, and hopefully Mralki teaches him how to actually use a weapon before letting him off into the wilds. The boy has enthusiasm but it's not much use when your life is on the line. I wouldn't want the lad to kick it on his first outing.
In order to avoid repeating the Serana situation, I decided to buy a second bedroll. It's unnecessary weight most of the time, but I guess you never know what'll happen on the road. I also refilled on things like food and other supplies, and got Adrianne to do some armor maintenance.
Could I have done it myself? Probably. Am I in the mood to do it? Most certainly not.
Next stop, Ivarstead.
Fredas, the 28th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201
Ah, Wilhelm. As shady as ever. One of these days I'll figure out what your business was with that Barrow, but not today. Not today.
Apparently, the town is having some bear trouble. Temba Wide-Arm is responsible for the resident woodworks, and she has been absolutely losing it over the bears scratching up trees as their last burst of excitement before bedtime. The big concern though is a particularly large cave bear that settled in a nearby cavern and has taken a liking to scratching up the buildings, instead. A bounty has been placed on him and a hunter has managed to track him down to his resting spot, he'll be going to hunt him today.
I think I'll help him out. No harm done in having two people to tackle a bear den instead of one. And maybe I'll finally give this damned crossbow a go.
"So… Gunmar, right? What brought you to Ivarstead? I don't suppose you've come here for one bear."
The tall man Saya was addressing snorted. He was a Nord of a worker's complexion - large, broad, and built like a brick house. His long red hair had a single braid tied closer to the front, and he had a fitting long beard, messy it may be. On his hip was hanging a steel axe, its wielder's name branded unto the side of the axehead.
"Trade." He said, rubbing under his nose. The mustache tickled, she figured. "I'm a blacksmith, myself. Brought an order of new sawblades for the lumber mill with me, and I heard of the trouble so I decided to stay and help out for extra coin." He looked down at her, a solid two heads shorter than he is. "What about you?"
"Just a stop on the way to Riften. I've been traveling all over the province lately." She scratched the back of her head with her free hand, looking at the crossbow in her hands with a perplexed expression. For the life of herself, she couldn't figure out how something this small could be so heavy.
"I see. A Dawnguard, then?" Gunmar gave her a knowing look. She looked shocked for a moment and he laughed, waving her off. "I helped make that thing you're holding right now. Isran and I go way back, though we… Parted, a few years ago."
The Dunmer sighed, slightly relieved. "That is a trend that I've noticed with Isran and his friends. Did something happen in particular?"
"The same thing that happens to any man obsessed with one thing and one thing alone. He pushed everyone away."
The Dragonborn didn't respond. The two of them walked in silence for a moment before they finally reached the cavern off in the forest, hidden behind the birch trees and under fallen leaves. The trees around the entrance all sustained various levels of damage, most of it surface level. A few outliers existed though, where the scratches went deep beneath the bark and created ugly gashes in the wood.
"Someone's territorial…" Saya murmured, following the man's lead as they ventured deeper inside. The opening was relatively small compared to other systems she had seen around Skyrim, but still sizable enough for the two of them to walk side by side without any difficulty. It was when they reached the main chamber of the cavern that they realized why so many of the trees were marked. Or, for that matter, why the bear was so difficult to track down.
The answer was embarrassingly simple: there was more than one bear.
As soon as Gunmar set foot inside, he heard a loud roar come from his left as a large cave bear lunged at him, teeth sinking into his armored forearm. The Nord quickly pulled the weapon off his belt and struck the animal in the nose, producing a pained squeal from the beast as it released him and recoiled back.
Saya's attention quickly switched from Gunmar's opponent to her own as another bear approached from deeper within, this one even larger than the previous - most likely female, she gathered. A quick shot from the crossbow landed straight into its wide open mouth, the animal gurgling and growling as its mouth started to drip with blood. The Dunmer did her best to reload, loosing yet another powerful bolt into the animal's thick hide. This time, the beast didn't even budge, instead only growing madder and standing on its hind legs in an attempt to intimidate her. The attempt only played to her advantage as a powerful fireball blasted into the den mother's stomach, setting her fur ablaze and rendering her incapable of any further fighting.
Once again free to look back at Gunmar, she saw the blacksmith making quick work of his target. Having grabbed the bear by its bleeding snout, he provoked a roar from the beast as it tried to back out and fight back. As soon as its maw opened, he jammed his axe right into its jaws, chopping through its cheeks and leaving it unable to close its jaws again. The man then let go of the pain-struck animal and struck it right over the head one last time, putting it out of its misery.
Saya couldn't help but whistle at the sight. "Brutal."
Gunmar dislodged his weapon from the corpse, huffing and putting it on his shoulder. "It was a wild animal. A very territorial one, at that." He turned to look at her. "We entered their home, and they acted accordingly. Any attempt at mercy would result in our deaths."
The Dragonborn shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose." She reloaded the crossbow once more and placed it in its harness on her back, walking in the direction of the cave exit.
"Wait." She stopped, turning around. Gunmar was looking around, his hand raised. "...Do you hear that?" The girl's expression answered his question, so he gestured her to follow, leading her deeper into the cave. The damp ground gradually switched to stone, but there was also… Wood. Chippings, branches, pieces of bark. Was there more to the damaged forest than just territorial markings?
Their questions were answered when Gunmar's eyes turned to a far-off, secluded corner. There, in a small nest, lay three tiny bear cubs, squeaking softly and blinking in confusion. The Nord approached one of them, allowing the animal to sniff him before it tried to gnaw at his gauntlet. Saya watched that and felt her stomach turn a bit.
"We're… Not going to kill them, are we?" She crossed her arms, wincing at the thought.
He shook his head. "No. But we can't leave them here, either." He watched them for a moment, the little cubs stumbling over themselves. After a moment of deliberation, he spoke. "I'll bring my cart."
"What? What are you going to do with them?"
"Train them." Gunmar replied shortly. "They're animals. Smart ones. I've worked with worse."
Saya's eyes narrowed. "...Like what?
A smile found its way onto the Nord's features. "You should ask Isran about the battle trolls next time you meet him."
"I… You know what, I won't question that. You stay here, I'll bring the cart." Saya quickly muttered, turning around and leaving the cave. The Nord only chuckled in amusement before continuing to tend to the cubs.
So this Gunmar is… A fellow, to be sure. Not a bad one, just a fellow. He's interesting.
He offered to give me a ride to Riften, since he lives in a village nearby. I decided that there's no reason not to take him up on that offer, so I guess I'm not walking to Riften today.
Hurray?
I talked to him a bit about what happened between him and Isran. Apparently, Isran's obsession with vampires and their supposed threat ended up alienating him from the rest of the Vigilants, and he eventually left them completely. Gunmar wasn't a Vigilant himself, but he worked with them closely - they commissioned him for custom equipment, and he provided. He also trained hounds as a side job, but would find and sell wardogs to the Vigil whenever requested.
One time, he and Isran tried to train a few trolls that they found out in the wild. The process was successful, and Gunmar even crafted custom-fitted armor for them. However, then one of the trolls killed a younger Vigilant who didn't know not to harass them, and the Vigil cut ties with him afterwards. Isran tried to get Gunmar to train more, but he adamantly refused on principle of it being too dangerous.
I asked him if he would be willing to work with Isran now that the Dawnguard is reforming. He laughed and said that Isran would never ask for help, but well. I was walking proof that he was indeed in need of people, and so he said he'd consider it. Good enough for me.
See, Isran? This is what happens when you actually recruit people by talking to them nicely.
Dipshit.
Loredas, the 29th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201
Sleeping in Riften is a gamble, but everything seems to be in place and my purse is not any lighter. I checked back with the Thieves Guild but Illia isn't back yet, so there was nothing else for me to do in the city.
I left for Fort Dawnguard first thing in the afternoon. There were a few more people than I last remembered, so the recruiting campaign is working at least. The road to the Fort is not as barren anymore - some additional stockades were constructed along with wooden guard towers, with two people keeping watch.
For all the good it did, anyway. I showed up right in the middle of a vampire attack. It looked more like a scouting party, if the size is anything to go by. Not a good sign either way. Isran was very vocal about that part.
I decided that it's not the wisest decision to tell him about the Volkihar while out in the open, so we went inside the fort. He has something of a private chamber on the upper floor. Nobody should be listening in there.
Saya released a weary sigh as soon as she stepped inside the room. She supposed that something like this would happen, but she still had the good faith that Isran would have more self control. Alas, he did not.
The room that the two of them found themselves in was nothing more and nothing less than a torture chamber. Manacles lining the walls, torture devices that Saya could neither name nor recognize decorating the shelves and floor… And all of that, in a neat little backroom right beside Isran's sleeping chamber. Saya did her best to resist the urge to judgmentally stare Isran down for a few long, long seconds.
"I see Tolan isn't with you." Isran began the conversation, leaning against a wall. Of course he'd notice that first.
"Tolan is dead." She replied, not beating around the bush. "He went ahead on his own and got caught by a group of vampires who tortured him for information."
Isran's eyes briefly gleamed at the revelation, but he said nothing. After a brief pause, he shook his head and continued. "Did you find what the vampires were looking for?"
"That I did. But I need to show you something, first." The Redguard raised a quizzical eyebrow as she slid her backpack off and began rummaging through the various papers before she pulled out a hand-drawn sketch of Dimhollow Keep, complete with a map on the back side of the parchment. As she pointed at the different sections and explained their functions, the man's expression only grew more and more grim. Then came her notes on the stasis chambers…
The better part of an hour passed until Saya could finish all that she had found hidden in the underground. When she did, she finished the explanation off by crossing her arms, taking a deep breath, and dropping the final nugget of information that she really, really would rather have kept to herself.
"And now, the vampires have an Elder Scroll."
Isran, who was already sinking deeper and deeper into his own paranoid thoughts, suddenly looked as though a bucket of ice water was splashed in his face. He slowly lifted his gaze towards Saya, only one word leaving his lips: "What."
"You wanted to know what the vampires were after, no? Well, that's what it was." Saya closed her journal with a loud clap of the pages and put it away. "The central stasis chamber was locked behind a blood seal, so whoever constructed it really didn't want it opened. I opened it, and inside was a woman with an Elder Scroll."
"A woman…?" Isran parroted, his expression contorting with bewilderment that bordered on anger, most likely directed at his own lack of understanding. "That doesn't make any sense. Who was this woman? Where is she?"
"Her name is Serana, and she's currently… Wait a second, let me show you." At this, Saya pulled out her folded-up map of Skyrim from its compartment in her belt and placed it down on the table, pointing at a small marking made in the western part of the Sea of Ghosts. "Right here. You'll also be pleased to know that this is the hideout of the vampires that just attacked you." He looked away from the map and threw her a questioning glance, which she ignored. "They call themselves the Volkihar. If my surface-level research doesn't fail me, they're an ancient clan of Skyrim vampires that has been around at least since the middle Second Era. Serana is the daughter of their patriarch, Harkon, and their base of operations is a massive castle. It's not very heavily guarded from the outside, but on the inside…"
"It's crawling with vampires." He finished, and the Dragonborn nodded in agreement.
"Precisely. I agreed to take Serana home in order to investigate further about their plans. She seemed to be out of the loop, herself - her father is the mastermind." She said, putting extra emphasis on Serana's lack of involvement. "Harkon and his wife had some kind of falling out a number of centuries ago, at which point Serana and the Elder Scroll were sealed away at Dimhollow. He has been looking for them since."
"Until you gave her to him on a silver platter." The Redguard added, his voice low. Saya looked over at him, seeing the man all but seething with cold anger where he stood. "If I were in your shoes, I would've slaughtered them when I got the chance."
Saya chuckled dismissively at that claim. "If you were in my shoes, you'd get put down like a dog the second you moved a finger in a way they didn't like." Isran huffed, much to her satisfaction, but the cocky smile vanished from her face immediately after. "There's something bigger going on here than some vampire hunting, Isran. This was the only way to learn more about it - and I did. What we need- no, what you need, is to start thinking about how we can tackle this problem."
Isran glared at her for a while longer but eventually, he gave in. He had to admit, if Serana was simply killed on the spot they wouldn't have known any of what she had just told him. He didn't have to like it, though. "Alright then, mastermind. Do you have any more bright suggestions?"
"Indeed I do." She replied, all while carefully putting away her map. "First thing we need is allies. I met one of your old friends, Gunmar, on the way back here. He's in Riften right now, you might want to send some of your people over to talk to him."
"Gunmar?" Isran seemed almost surprised to hear the name. It's been a long time since they parted ways, but if he could help… "Then we should also try and get a hold of Sorine."
"Sorine? Who's that?"
"Sorine Jurard." He added, as though clarifying. Saya's lack of recognition pushed him to continue. "Breton girl. Whip-smart, good with tinkering. Fascinated with the Dwemer, weapons in particular - last I know, she was out in the Reach, convinced she was on the cusp of her biggest discovery yet."
"I see… Yeah, that could be useful. Anything else?"
Isran thought for a moment. "There's also Florentius. Florentius Baenius, a priest of Stendarr. I'll send some of my people to find him, if nothing's changed then he should be willing to join us."
Saya raised a bemused eyebrow. "I didn't peg you as the religious type."
"I'm not." He replied sharply. "But those bloodsuckers don't care if you're a believer or not when you burn their faces off with magic. He taught me some spells back in the day that even a simpleton could use. I want my men equipped as best as possible."
"Alright. Then I'll get this Sorine girl." The redhead said, making her way for the exit. Isran only nodded back, already consumed with his own thoughts. Yet, as she was about to leave, a thought crossed her mind. "Hey, Isran?"
"Yes?"
"About Serana…" She trailed off, not really knowing how to continue. There were a few nebulous thoughts swirling about in her mind, but she also had a feeling that trying to convince Isran would be a long, arduous, and ultimately fruitless process. So after a few seconds of awkward silence, she said: "I know you're not a fan of vampires, but let me handle her, okay?"
Isran looked her up and down before scoffing. She stood there for a while longer, but when the thought sank in that this is all the response she was going to get, she turned around and left.
Better than nothing.
