Chapter 3
Temper
XxXxXx
Jorrvaskr turned out to be an overturned boat fashioned into a building. The Mead Hall, as he heard the gossip call it. Great…more mead. Nevano winced at the mere thought. He kept trying it and each and every time his stomach tried to escape out his throat. Now he was going to walk into a capsized boat that had a fancy name that essentially translated into mead hall. Nevano stopped his internal rant and took a deep breath. He had no idea why he was being overly critical. Maybe he was still overly sore from "looking" like a warrior.
He swallowed back his irritation, and his stubborn pride. He had to admit they did a pretty good job at turning this old ship into a rather nice looking place. In Morrowind he had seen all manner of housing, from falling down shacks to magically grown mushrooms made into opulent homes. Jorrvaskr had good strong wooden beams supporting it that had been carved in the traditional Nord style and the eves decorated with old wooden shields. Massive double sets of double doors with more traditional wooden carvings marked the entrance. The effigies of dragons on the entrance posts gave the building a rather intimidating front. Not as welcoming as a Fighters Guild Hall but Nords didn't seem to put much stock in appearing welcoming.
He did note the forge on the rise as he came up with interest. A giant eagle had been carved into the rock above it, the wings sheltering the fire from the incessant tundra winds. He had heard a few murmurs about a "sky forge" and there was little doubt in his mind that that was it. He would have to ask about that.
Slowly he grasped the iron ring on the door. Homesickness panged in his stomach. This was so like the many, many times he had gone into a Fighters Guild Hall. He missed it. He missed home. But home was gone, crushed beneath the Thalmor invasion.
Nevano grunted to himself and yanked the heavy door open.
XxXxXx
Raven Rock, Solstheim
Captain Modyn Veleth stared over the Sea of Ghosts, still as a statue, even as a cold Skyrim wind blasted him in the face. His Redoran Guard gave him a wide berth. They knew that when he was in this sort of mood, he was liable to give double shifts to those that bothered him.
Eventually a ship appeared on the edge of the horizon. Finally Veleth moved; his eyes narrowed and his crossed arms tightened over his chest. He had been waiting on this ship for days now, his mood souring with each day it was late. Other members of the guard marked the blip on the horizon and gave a sigh of relief. The captain was a good man who cared greatly for the welfare of his men but when he was in a mood like this they would rather deal with an angry horker bull. That ship was the sign that things would go back to normal soon.
Adril Arano, the Second Councilor of Raven Rock, walked down to the end of the dock to stand next to the imposing captain. He took in the dark sails on the horizon, sails that spoke of a ship of Dunmeri origin. "Took them long enough."
A muscle leaped in Veleth's jaw, "If I had to guess it was because they are being subjected to stricter inspections before being allowed to leave port. This isn't the first one from Blacklight to be delayed like this…and it's getting worse."
"It'll keep getting worse." Adril said, "Really there's nothing to stop them."
Veleth grunted a reply, his mood darkening even worse. It was no secret that the Thalmor were becoming a rather irritating problem. More than irritating, they insisted on sticking their nose in everything the Dunmer did. Since Morrowind was still technically part of the crumbling Empire, they had insisted on being involved on politics in Blacklight, much to the outrage of the Dunmer whose battered pride couldn't tolerate such intrusion. It had created the perfect storm of tension and tempers were flaring more and more frequently. Even more infuriating, they seemed to enjoy riling up the Dunmer and only redoubled their efforts.
His mood didn't improve when the ship finally docked and a Dunmer messenger ran up to him with a battered, folded and torn scroll. "Many pardons, muthsera, but it was all I could do to hide it from them."
Veleth nodded, taking it from him, "As long as I can still read it I don't care if you have to have a guar swallow it for the journey here."
He left the poor messenger standing there wondering if he was joking or not. He wasn't. He didn't joke very often. Granted there was no telling how the messenger would actually get the scroll OUT of the guar but that unpleasant job was not his to worry about.
Veleth entered the Bulwark, the narrow quarters nestled within the thick walls that protected Raven Rock, and kicked the few guards that were in out for a patrol he randomly picked. He wanted to read this letter alone without giving them gossip fodder. Slowly he broke the seal and started reading the deadric letters,
Modyn
The Thalmor grow bolder and more intrusive each day. They know they are not well received here but instead of trying to make friends, they seem to relish in it. The Imperials had at least attempted to be friends. Not that we WANT to be friends with these mongrels. They have been pressing to allow an envoy to Raven Rock. We are doing everything to thwart them but it's only a matter of time before they just go anyway. The only reason they wish to have influence in Raven Rock is to have control over every councilor in the ruling house. They believe we are weak without a monarch…in truth they might be right. We are not united under a single king, councilor, hortator or even the Nerevarine.
The captain sighed. The Nerevarine again…
The empire is weakening. It is only a matter of time before it crumbles. However the empire is not the biggest disaster on the horizon. There are rumors of greater threats. I won't put them to paper just yet, not while there's a chance the Thalmor will intercept this letter. When things come to light, and they will, I just want you to be ready. Keep Raven Rock safe until then. Hopefully we won't lose every able-bodied Dunmer to Skyrim until then.
Your mother says she hopes you stay warm.
-Your father.
Veleth crumpled up the parchment and stared into the fire for several long minutes. His father, Azura bless his old soul, was a little…eccentric, but age had not dulled his senses or his strength. An old Buoyant Armiger from the time of the Nerevarine, the mer knew times of danger and knew what it was to unite under one hero. That being said, he knew what his father was hinting at even if he didn't put it in writing outright.
Of course the thought of breaking from the empire was always on every Dunmer's mind; it had been since they joined the empire and was refreshed when the Imperials abandoned them without a standing army during the Oblivion invasion. Losing the Great War and allowing the Thalmor free rein was just the straw that broke the Alit's back. Leaving the Dunmer to be Argonian chow had done nothing to repair that wound. But more trouble? What greater threat could there be to the already battered Dunmer nation?
Veleth threw the crumpled up note into the fire and watched it brown, then blacken as flames licked at it, turning it to ash. He had to think on this. He had no idea WHY his father was speaking of this to him. He was captain of the Redoran Guard in Raven Rock. His job was to protect First Councilor Morvayn and to kept Raven Rock safe, not a hero finder or someone who was in the position to save the Dunmeri homeland from invading Aldmer or whatever it was his father had imagined this time. He just hoped this was old age and paranoia speaking.
The last of the note burst into a flame and collapsed into ash. He rather doubted it though...
XxXxXx
Whiterun, Skyrim
Whatever Nevano expected when he walked in, a fistfight was not high on the list of what he expected. A Dunmer man and a Nord woman were encircled by the rest of the Companions who were cheering on their favorite. Nevano raised an eyebrow but skirted around the edge of the ring to watch without being noticed. These two obviously didn't particularly get along. There was no holding back as blood and saliva flew with each strike to the face. Nevano fondly remembered when two Orcs started to get into a fistfight like this back in Chorrol. Being a good foot shorter and a good 80 pounds lighter hadn't daunted Modryn in the slightest when he got in the middle, knocked the Orcs heads together and tossed them both out of the guildhall. There had not been any stupid fights after that.
After what seemed entirely too long the diminutive woman backed the mer into a corner where he tripped over a table. He got a mouth full of knuckles as he fell forward and went down to his knees, spitting blood from a ruined lip and a bit tongue.
"Had enough Athis?"
"N'wah."
"Thought so." The Nord woman smirked, "Next time I hear you say that again I'll make sure to knock ALL of your teeth out."
The crowd dispersed as the two split up. Nevano did notice with a small burst of racial pride that the woman was shaking her hand out and trying to crack her jaw back into place. A Redguard woman following her was sniping at her like a mother hen "I TOLD you, Njada. He might be a scrawny elf but he still hits hard. Stop letting him get to you like that you know he'll just keep doing it. I'm not going to keep shoving your jaw back into place every time!"
Don't underestimate the scrawny elves indeed…
No one had noticed him yet so he took a quick look around the room, noting that there were doors mirroring the ones he just came through on the opposite side of the room. The center of the room was down a few steps and dominated by a large roaring fire that Nevano appreciated more than just a little bit. Tables were situated around three sides and were laden with enough food to keep a guild full of warriors fed. Again there were the standard Nordic traditional carvings and decorations on the floor and walls, which was far warmer on the inside than the cold exterior. Still the place bespoke of proud warriors with deep-rooted traditions. Nevano could definitely respect that.
The woman who had first confronted him on the streets was suddenly beside him, as silent as a mountain cat. "I was wondering if you were coming or not, Dunmer with the yellow eyes."
Nevano forced his face not to reveal that she had totally gotten the drop on him, forcing his heart rate to slow and keeping his fingers from twitching to bow on his back. "Curiosity drove me here."
"I am Aela. They call me the Huntress."
How fitting, Nevano thought, "I am Nevano."
"Here I would have thought you would have been named for those unusual eyes. Speak to Kodlak. He'll see if you have what it takes to be a Companion." Aela said, "He has a sense for seeing the mettle of a warrior."
"Hold on there, Huntress." Nevano frowned, "I did not come here to actually join you."
"Really? Then why did you come?" Aela's blue eyes became hard again, almost predatory. Nevano felt his belly tense. Something was screaming at him in the back of his mind to be very careful. Something wasn't quite right…
"I've been in this land for a handful of days and the first thing that I got to experience in this wild land was nearly getting eaten by an enraged dragon. By the time all was said and done and all of my body parts made it through Helgen more or less intact and not lunch, I discovered my weapons missing. Not just missing, but taken. I'm not here to join your ranks but rather I'm here for any information that might lead me to them." Nevano met her eyes without flinching, noting the slight surprised widening of her pupils with a rather vicious delight. She hadn't been expecting blatant honesty. "These are not just some sentimental pieces of iron. These are rather powerful and a lot of blood was spilled in the making and obtaining of them."
Aela shifted her weight, "I will speak with Kodlak." Nevano nodded. If that was all he was going to get so be it. "Wait here until then. He shouldn't be long."
With that, she turned and walked off towards a set of stairs that led down to a basement area. She walked with the grace and confidence of a predator, something Nevano usually found attractive in a woman but this time it just made him wary of her.
He found a bench away from the center of activity where he could unobtrusively watch the entire room while still enjoying the warmth of that lovely fire. He didn't feel much like talking to anyone else until he could figure out just what was wrong here. He could smell something…off. He could have sworn he knew that smell from somewhere. It was a very subtle smell, faint and heavy all at once. Like if a grain of rice could weight as much as a watermelon. But his brain came up empty. So he settled for picking out the ones with the strange smell. Two brothers, Aela and another big Nord warrior who he heard someone call Skjor. All with those predatory hard eyes that tried to intimidate him with a steely glare every time they caught him watching. He met every gaze with a steady look of his own, earning a tiny bit of respect each time he didn't back down.
"Well, more fresh meat. At least you look capable." The bloodied Dunmer from the fistfight came and sat down nearby.
"Sorry, not here for new recruit amusement." Nevano quickly looked at the floor. A Nord couldn't be expected to know what the color of his eyes meant but any Dunmer would know instantly. He didn't want that out just yet.
"Oh? So what did you come here for?" Athis sounded suspicious but after staring down the predators in the room, his gaze really didn't threaten Nevano too much.
"Oh this and that." Nevano waved a hand in the air.
Athis' ruby eyes widened as he caught sight of the ring that always sat on Nevano's right hand. Too late Nevano realized his mistake. By Azura he had it for so long he kept forgetting it was there. There was no hope of convincing Athis that the ring was anything else. The silver crescent moon with the golden 5-point star sitting at its middle was unmistakable.
"Vith…"
"Nevano, Kodlak would like to speak to you now." Aela appeared out of thin air suddenly. For once Nevano was happy for her impeccable timing. He quickly stood up to follow the Huntress, leaving the Dunmer staring after him like he had just been dumped by a bucking guar.
Nevano followed Aela down the stairs, past living quarters and through to the back private rooms. Through each door they went through the hair on the back of Nevano's neck rose. The smell was more concentrated down here, more potent, especially in these back rooms. It was like walking into a wolf den. Wolf…Nevano almost stopped dead in his tracks.
"Kodlak, this is the elf I was speaking to you about."
"So a stranger comes to our hall, asking for information." An older Nord with a grey beard was seated at a table. He was old yes, but his voice and posture was still strong. His eyes, too, had that predatory look but there was something else there. It was the same thing Nevano couldn't place about the other but he didn't feel uneasy with this man. If anything this old wolf was the only one here who actually put him somewhat at ease. "Come sit. Let me have a look at you."
Nevano gingerly took a seat across Kodlak, still mistrustful despite feeling fairly confident he wasn't going to be eaten. Grey eyes met gold but not in a challenge like Nevano had been experiencing all day. They simply searched his, direct and strong but nothing to suggest he would kill the mer at the slightest hint of weakness. "Been a long time since a heart as stout as yours has passed through these halls…not to mention one with such unusual eyes. Tell me boy, why are you here if not to join our ranks?"
"I was in Helgen when the dragon attacked." Again Nevano relied on blunt honesty. It seemed to really work with these Nords, "The Imperials apparently take a dim view on crossing the border. They took everything: weapons, armor. I went back and recovered just about everything, except my weapons. Those weapons are…incredibly important to me. I'm looking for any information that might lead me to them again."
"Weapons…" Kodlak got up and walked over to another table that had several open books splayed over it. "I understand the need to search for weapons. See, we too have been searching for a weapon, or rather, the fragments of one. Wuuthrad, the axe carried by Ysgramor, was shattered a long time ago. We are trying to collect the pieces of the axe and restore honor to it. So you see, we understand the importance of weapons and not just as warriors. So, tell me...why are your weapons so special to you?"
Nevano sat back in his chair, running a hand over his messy dark red ridge of hair. "These weapons…it's not just sentimental value. They are more than that. They are to the Dunmer what Wuuthrad is to you. It's a symbol of all the honor and hope your people ever had."
"Very important symbols then." Kodlak sat back down across from the mer. "Tell me about them."
"They are twins. Both Dwemer made, curved like scimitars. One was wicked looking with spikes along the blade, with almost deadric looking cross guard with a ruby set in the center. It has a powerful flame enchantment on it. Its twin is far gentler with no spikes and a very minimal cross guard. It also has a flame enchantment but the flames are blue. They were a wedding present long ago."
"A wedding present?" Kodlak chuckled, "Sounds like a magnificent wedding. Who were they gifted to?"
"Lord Indoril Nerevar and his queen Almalexia."
Kodlak got up and went back to his table, flipping through one book, "I have heard those names before…I know I have."
"I can save you the research. Nerevar was the Chimer general and king who ruled Morrowind back when it was called Resdayn. Almalexia was his queen and later part of the Tribunal, which is now no more." Nevano had to struggle to keep his distaste for the Tribunal out of his voice, "Those three are merely considered saints now. The Tribunal was disbanded well over 200 years ago."
"How is it you came to have these weapons?"
"Let's just call it inheritance."
Kodlak nodded, "I see no lie in your eyes. Truth be told I have never seen nor heard of those weapons before today. Certainly if a bandit group had such treasures they would be bragging by now and we usually are one of the first to either hear of it or are asked to remove such a bandit group. However I can ask around…if you would do us a favor in return."
Nevano nodded, already anticipating this. There was no such thing as a free favor. "A gah-julan then. Great benefit to us both."
Kodlak smiled and nodded, though Nevano could tell that the foreign word went clean over his head but the sincerity behind them wasn't lost on him, "We have tracked down one of the three fragments of Wuuthrad. You seem a perfectly capable warrior. If you would track down this piece and return it to us, I'll share with you all that I have learned about the whereabouts of your weapons."
Nevano stood and gave the old man a traditional Dunmer bow of respect, "Thank you, muthsera. This means a great deal to me."
Kodlak waved off his show of respect, "I am just an old man. We are warriors. This is what we do. Vilkas will fill you in on the location of the fragment."
As Nevano got to the door he paused, "Oh…in case it ever comes up. Those two weapons...they have names. They are called Hopesfire and Trueflame."
XxXxXx
Dustman's Cairn. It had taken a good bit of time to finally wheedle the name out of Vilkas. He had been very distrustful of this strange Dunmer with the strange eyes and didn't think the old man's decision was wise. Since this was a bit of a personal favor and not something he was actually going to get paid for, Nevano found it highly irritating. He wanted to get this task done. He had zero interest in joining these predatory Companions. They had honor, yes, but that honor was tainted. Kodlak seemed to be ok but the others were too deep in that taint. He wanted nothing to do with it.
He bought a map from a local shop that had obviously once belonged to an adventurer. It was old, worn, had a few blood stains dripped on it and had many caves, tombs and landmarks already marked on it, just the way he liked his maps. Purely out of luck, Dustman's Cairn was marked on there, way east, northeast of Whiterun. It would take a daylong hike but it wasn't anything he was already used to.
Despite being cold and windy, he had to admit Skyrim really was beautiful. The tundra rolled out from Whiterun, rocky and crisscrossed with streams and rivers. Craggy mountains rose majestically all around, covered in pine trees and snow. It was strong and beautiful, hardy and serene. Nevano had never seen anything like it before. Nor had he ever seen a place just crawling in deer before. Morrowind you had to basically learn to eat anything and Cyrodiil was far more…domesticated. Skyrim was just filthy with game. At least if he was stuck in the wilderness for an extended period he wouldn't have to look too hard for something to eat.
He checked his map as he crested yet another hill. He should be getting close but there was nothing around here that would suggest a cave was nearby. He had no idea what a cairn was but was willing to bet it was underground, which meant a cave, which meant there had to be some sort of…
Nevano yelped as he suddenly stepped clean over the stone lip of a massive hole. Instinct took over and he tucked himself into a roll just before he hit the stone floor. "Found the cairn" he groaned, untangling himself to count what he might have broken. Fortunately, other than a banged hip and a very bruised ego he was ok. So…a cairn was a hole in the ground. A STONE hole in the ground. Meaning he needed to not stare at maps while walking, which was also known as "stop making stupid mistakes".
Nevano rolled his shoulders and nearly recoiled when he caught sight of the door. Dear sweet Oblivion he hadn't seen doors like that since deadric shrines in Morrowind! This was not a simple little errand. Places like this were rarely uninhabited and what DID live there was usually something with a very nasty temper and a taste for adventurer flesh.
The bonebiter bow was pulled from its holster and held at the ready. Find the fragment, get out quickly, try not to be seen. He normally didn't like the sneaky approach but he felt distinctly naked without Truefire and Hopesflame. The piece of crap sword he had discarded in disgust wouldn't have held up against a rat, let alone this place. In close range, he was a sitting kagouti. Gingerly he pushed open the creepy door and went in.
The smell hit him first; old, stale air, earthy but with a hit of decay in there. Make that a lot of decay. Never mind, body decay. In addition to "random stone hole in the ground" Nevano added "tomb" to his mental definition of "cairn". Sure enough, in the very first room he walked into, there was a dead body on the floor. A remarkably well preserved dead body though, he marked as he stepped around it. So the ancient Nords interred their dead and the tundra provided the perfect conditions to basically mummify the bodies, unlike the Dunmer who burned their dead and kept the ashes within family tombs or in temples.
He continued along to the hallway in the back of the room, through what looked like a catacomb of tombs build right into the rock with more mummified bodies standing upright in alcoves. Definitely one of the creepier holes he has crawled into. Several of the bodies were dressed in old ancient armor and a few even had weapons interred with them. They must have been quite the warriors in life, the mer mused as he crept along.
Then he froze as a growl echoed off the stone walls from behind him. Every hair on his body stood upright as something moved behind him. No such thing as free favors indeed…
XxXxXx
A/N: Nevano is a big boy who (usually) can handle himself quite well but I decided to have him start over as a novice in this. Just like in the game, this is a new land with a whole new set of rules he hasn't learned yet so he's making mistakes like a noob.
