Chapter 17
The Stranger
XxXxXx
4E 201, Sun's Height - Blacklight, Morrowind
Jorun Veleth glared at the paperwork on his desk. It was late, Masser and Secunda high in the sky. His wife was going to be annoyed but it couldn't be helped. That was the drawback to being at the top of the rank chain; he had more paperwork to do than anyone else. He hated it with a burning passion. He was a fighter, not a clerk. His wife would disagree. She would roll her eyes and say something about him being too old for such things anymore. To someone with fighting blood in their veins, there was no such thing. He would die with a sword in his hand, this he was sure of.
Footsteps echoed through the stone halls, approaching his office door. He paused, quill midair, eyes narrowing a little. This late at night there was hardly anyone up here in the offices. He could just be a paranoid old fetcher…but he hadn't lived this long by not listening to what his gut was telling him. Just as the footsteps stopped outside his door, he slid a handful of documents he'd rather remain unseen into a drawer.
There was a brisk knock at the door and one of his lieutenants came in before he could answer. Instantly he could see that this was no pleasant visit or urgent report. She was walking stiffly, her shoulders squared and her eyes tight with resentment. She had her hand on the hilt of her sword at her hip, her knuckles showing white through her gray skin. Jorun didn't have to wonder at the source of her irritation long; it followed her right through the door.
"Sir, this is…"
"I know who he is." Jorun cut her off. Oh he knew this particular fetcher. They had clashed before. Ocanlil was First Emissary Calindil's brother and one of his top lackeys. Ocanlil thought he was a trusted ambassador to his brother but in reality he was simply used for his sadistic force in finding out hidden secrets. Jorun had come close to opening the Thalmor's throat on multiple occasions but each time prudence stayed his hand. All in all, not what Jorun wanted to deal with this late at night, "Anything I can help you with, Ocanlil, before I throw you out the window?"
"Now, now Jorun, there's no need for such hostilities."
"That's a load of shit and you know it." Jorun had a personal rule: he didn't bother being pleasant after midnight. "What do you want? Be quick about it."
"You are the reigning… "expert", of sorts, on the Nerevarine." Ocanlil took his cue from the irate mer in front of him and dropped the pleasantries himself, adopting a harsher tone, "I want information. You will give it to me. Now."
Jorun reached into his desk and pulled out a book and tossed it at the Thalmor. "There. It's on the Nerevarine, written after he killed Dagoth Ur. It's called a history book. Read it."
Ocanlil growled and swiped at the book, knocking it to the ground. The lieutenant glared and her hand tightened impossibly on her weapon at the insult. Jorun stilled her with a quick wave of his hand. "I am NOT in the mood for your little tricks, Captain. I want to know the man himself. What does he look like, where he is and what his motives are!"
Jorun crossed his arms. "Well, then you're out of luck. I have not seen the mer since he left for Akavir. That was before the Oblivion Crisis. If you'd bother reading history once in a while you'd know that but by your reaction I see how that turned out."
Now the real difference between the two Thalmor was starting to come through, something that Jorun both was wary of and happy enough to exploit. First Emissary Calindil never lost his cool. He kept up his oily pretense, no matter how much Dunmer hostility he ran across. Ocanlil was very easily shaken out of that indifference he tried so hard to emulate from his brother. While it often meant he would resort to violence that much faster, it made derailing him that much easier. Jorun found it highly amusing to rile the man up only for him to be reprimanded by his brother later. Small petty victories, but a victory nonetheless.
"I knew the Nerevarine, that I will not deny." Jorun said carefully, making sure that this wouldn't turn violent. As much as he dearly wanted the excuse to shove a sword through this Thalmor's throat, it wasn't something he wanted to deal with the fallout over right now, not just yet. Sadly he couldn't pass off killing this mer as easily as he had the last ambassador getting 'lost' in the swamp, "However he is gone, has been for over 200 years. I'm an old man. My memory is not what it was."
"You are always going on and on about him returning!" Ocanlil was practically stomping in outrage like a spoiled child. Jorun found the comparison quite fitting.
"As anyone would wish for a friend to return one day." Jorun smirked inwardly, recognizing the defeated frustration, "Much as I wish my son would visit more often than he does."
"He was seen in Chorrol! He was seen in Skyrim!" Ocanlil was getting more and more worked up, causing Jorun to drop a hand casually on the hilt of his sword, just in case. "He infiltrated the Embassy in Skyrim! Anyone with half a brain can see that the mer is headed this way next!"
Jorun betrayed no hint of the interest that perked in him on his face. "Really? You've been harassing the Dunmer people for years and didn't think a handful wouldn't get irritated enough to do something rash? You are talking nonsense, Thalmor. Now get the hell out of my office before I have you escorted out. At sword point." The lieutenant took a step forward to drive the point home, cracking her knuckles. Ocanlil looked as if he would protest. Actually he looked like he would explode, his face turning a shade of purple that clashed horribly with his gold skin. However, two swords sliding from their scabbards kept him from doing anything other than shake in fury. "I don't like repeating myself." Jorun said, his voice tight, "Now leave before I send you back to your brother in a bloody box."
He didn't relax fully until after the door slammed and the footsteps faded down the hall. Finally he let out sigh of relief. That had been too close.
"Sir…he just gave up information, didn't he?" His lieutenant said slowly, "Things I'm pretty sure the Emissary wanted to stay silent?"
"That he did."
"What are you going to do?"
"Right now? Nothing." Jorun slid his sword back into its scabbard, "Right now, I'm going home."
"Is it…really the Nerevarine?" Jorun looked sharply over at the younger woman. There was a guarded hope there in her ruby eyes, hidden beneath the roughened exterior of one who had had enough of living under another's thumb. She was ready to believe him. She was desperately hoping that the fabled hero from her childhood stories was coming, that he was going to swoop in and save them all.
"Listen to me." Jorun said carefully, "Change is coming, but change, especially to our nation, is often bloody and violent. We need to be ready because this time, we need that change to be in our favor."
"Sir?"
"Go home. As for all this? It never happened."
The confused lieutenant left and Jorun leaned back against his desk. So, he was right after all; Nevano was on his way. Oh he knew it was Nevano. He had known since the Thalmor first claimed to have Hopesfire and Trueflame. He was quite willing to bet Nevano went on a war path to get his beloved swords back. No one believed him but he knew Nevano well enough to recognize the signs. Whether by accident or design, the mer was coming back. A small smile played on the old mer's lips. While he knew that the champion's return was going to mean conflict, and a bloody one at that, he couldn't wait to see his old friend again. Jorun pushed off his desk and left his office, intending to go home. His wife would be thrilled to hear this.
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Solstheim, Morrowind
Hirstaang Forest. Well, it used to be a forest. Nevano considered the sheer rock cliffs as he walked along the shore. He was pretty certain those weren't quite so…formidable the last time he ran along this route. They must have been forcibly carved after being blasted by a volcanic eruption. He also remembered this being a green forest of pine trees carpeted with snow and ice. It was still rather chilly with the damp ocean wind chilling him to the bone, but the ground was covered in ash instead of fresh scented pine needles. The trees had been severely damaged from the volcanic blast. Even now, after a few centuries, they still hadn't recovered fully. Only a few stubborn trees still stood, more petrified than actual living wood. Scathecraw and trama root, plants that grew really well in ashy soil, replaced the Belladonna and holly bushes that once grew in abundance all over the place. Nevano was still trying to mentally grasp how one event had changed a world centuries after the fact. One small act, a man trying to save his lover, had altered the face of Morrowind, of Tamriel, forever.
A shout interrupted Nevano's musings over the scenery. He held still a moment, ears twitching as he tried to pinpoint where the shout came from. Smell was useless, as the wind didn't let up, continually assaulting his nose with the scent of salt and ash. Another shout, this time accompanied by the metallic clang of weapons, echoed from down the beach. Nevano started running up the hill, struggling a little as his feet sank awkwardly into the sand. He popped Hopesfire and Trueflame in their scabbards, loosening them but not drawing them just yet. He crested the hill and the scene below made his heart leap into his throat.
Three monsters were attacking what looked to be a Raven Rock guard, if the bonemold armor was anything to go by. Another guard already lay dead close to the ruined remains of a house, his armor cracked like a eggshell. That was alarming right there. Bonemold was an impressively strong material and highly prized by the Redoran. It was the monsters, though, that unnerved him. They were massive, as misshapen as a corprus beast, covered in glowing hot ash. Ash vampires? What would ash vampires be doing here? HOW could there be ash vampires here? He drew his swords finally, but didn't give the command for them to ignite. Against something already on fire the point was moot. If they were ash vampires, they were going to quickly become dead vampires. He couldn't allow any sort of ash beast like this to live.
The guard they were fighting was barely fending them off; he was flanked and being pushed back, putting him more and more on the defensive and taking away any chance of him being able to get a strike in to save himself. Nevano ran down the hill; he could see that the guard was rapidly running out of energy to fend off all three. The only reason he was still alive was because he had a double handed axe like Gunjar; the longer reach keeping the creatures with their much shorter weapons just out of reach. However it was merely a matter of time before he was overwhelmed. Nevano ran faster, but he wasn't fast enough. Almost in slow motion he watched the guard block a strike from the creature on the far right, leaving his left flank completely bare. The monster closest took full advantage and struck. For a moment the whole world narrowed down to that ashen blade striking against bonemold plating. Nevano had a fleeting hope that the armor would hold but then it seemed to shake. Hairline fractures appeared around the point of impact and then with a CRACK that echoed in Nevano's ears, the armor gave way. Blood spurted as the flesh beneath split. The only reason why the guard's entire flank wasn't sliced completely through was a small buckle that caught the ash monster's blade and held it there.
The world snapped back to full speed. Nevano launched himself at the nearest monster, both swords burying themselves deep into the creature's chest. With a bellowing roar, it disintegrated beneath Nevano, crumbling into a pile of ash. Nevano frowned. No ash vampire disintegrated like that. There was no time to wonder though. The guard had fallen to the ground, his armor stained red. Nevano was actually glad for that. He had the two remaining creatures' full attention and he didn't have to worry about the injured guard. All he needed was for the mer to stay down while he felt with his foes. Nevano crouched into a ready position, his twin blades shining in the weak light filtering through the smoky air, inviting the ash monsters to come at him.
Come at him they did.
They came with a roar that made Nevano grin, adrenaline pumping through his veins in anticipation of a good fight. He caught both smoldering weapons with each sword at the same time as they were thrust at him. He twisted his wrists, the sword blades spiraling around and easily slicing through the seething flesh. The blades, which had resumed their path towards his chest when his flipped his swords, withdrew quickly as the beasts recoiled before their hands were severed completely from their limbs. Nevano pressed his advantage, whipping both swords at their chests. It wasn't a deep strike, he didn't intend for it to be, but it was enough to cause them both to flinch. The cuts burned a fiery red at the edges. Instead of blood running from the unbraided flesh, ash spilled out like flour from a sack. Nevano wrinkled his nose. That wasn't nearly as satisfying as hot blood coating his weapons and filling the air with a coppery tang.
It was time to finish this. In a move that mirrored the beasts opening attack, Nevano thrust both swords deep into the monster's chests. He twisted the blades, pouring his frustration and anger into the command to ignite. Truefire and Hopesflame veritably exploded; the sudden over-whelming heat rapidly expanded the ash in the things' chest, causing an eruption like a volcano. The monsters never even got a chance to bellow before they melted into dust, leaving Nevano standing there, panting, both swords held midair. He took a moment to regain his breath before sheathing the twin swords and going to the guard's side as he pushed himself to his elbows.
"Thanks…I wasn't sure I'd make it off this farm alive. I wish I could say the same for my man here." Nevano crouched next to the guard, though at his words he just identified himself as the missing captain that Geldis spoke of. He had one hand clapped to the cracked armor on his ruined flank, blood oozing from between his fingers. Not a mortal wound, fortunately, but certainly plenty debilitating. He was going to have a fun walk back to Raven Rock with that injury.
"I almost could have said the same for the both of you." Nevano started digging through his pack, looking for anything to help with that wound a little. "What were those things?"
"Some of the Redoran Guard have taken to calling them 'ash spawn'." The captain said flatly, "Me? I don't care what they're called…all I know is they're a danger to Raven Rock and they need to be stopped."
"Ash spawn?" Nevano produced a small healing potion. He was far more undersupplied than he thought, but he HAD remembered to re-stock all his arrows at least, "What the hell is an ash spawn?"
"No one knows really. Superstitious folk say they're risen forms of those that died long ago, but I'm not so certain. They started attacking the Bulwark a few weeks ago. My men were able to kill them, but they keep coming back." The captain gratefully accepted the healing potion. It wouldn't do much other than slow the blood flow and dull the pain slightly but it would suffice until he could get back to Raven Rock, "We've had two other assaults on the Bulwark at different spots on the wall. I know it sounds crazy, but it's almost like they're becoming more organized and probing it for weaknesses."
Nevano sat back on his heels, frowning, "You suppose there's a motive to the attacks?"
"Exactly. Something has to be directing them against us and we need to find out who, or what it is."
"How did that bring you to this old farm?" Nevano asked. If he didn't know any better he would have said talking to this mer was like talking to Jorun; super suspicious, slightly paranoid, and poking around in places where answers seemed the least likely to be found…but was always right. He felt a pang of guilt twist his stomach; he hadn't thought about Jorun in a long time. He wondered how he was doing, if he was still alive. Maybe he should try to find him after he was done on Solstheim.
"I was going to search for clues that might lead me to wherever they're coming from. I know it isn't the best place to start, but we know they've been coming from this direction."
"I'd be glad to lend you a hand." Nevano found himself saying. He stopped and blinked. Did he really just volunteer himself like that? It had to be because this guard reminded him of Jorun. Yeah, that was it.
"Good, I can use all the help I can get. Besides, I don't feel comfortable leaving Raven Rock behind, and I'd hate to lose anymore Redoran Guard."
"Very well, where do I begin?" Nevano saw right through that double meaning; no one cared if the outlander got himself killed. Far from being offended by it, Nevano enjoyed the challenge. That and he wanted to see the look on the captain's face when he waltzed back into town far faster than any of the Redoran Guard could have ever hoped to complete this particular quest.
"We were searching the farm when the ash spawn ambushed us. Have a look around and see if you can turn up something useful." The captain grunted as he forced himself to his feet, leaning against the weathered timbers to steady himself.
Nevano kept his mouth shut and let the mer keep his dignity as he began poking around at the piles of ashes. Most of the ashes, still warm to the touch, held a few bits of rubble, bits of debris that he didn't want to think too much about, but one held a surprisingly intact letter. How the damn thing didn't burn was beyond him but he had seen stranger things. He sat back on his heels and looked it over.
"Find something?"
"Yeah…" Nevano unfolded it and read it out loud, " 'Raven Rock Stronghold, My calls for unconditional surrender of your forces and immediate cessation of all hostilities has been ignored numerous times. I therefore have no choice but to assume your purpose on Solstheim is hostile, and to treat Raven Rock as an enemy of the Empire. I warn you, any attempt to breach Fort Frostmoth will be met with an equal level of aggression. I will do everything in my power to wipe you and your forces off the face of Tamriel. There will be no further communication between us. General Falx Carius, Garrison Commander, Fort Frostmoth.' "
"That's…impossible." The captain limped over, taking the note from Nevano's suddenly nerveless hands, "General Falx Carius is indeed the garrison commander but…Fort Frostmoth was destroyed over 200 years ago. The general was killed when Red Mountain leveled the place. It's just a pile of rubble now."
Nevano pressed his lips into a hard line. He knew that. He remembered Carius very well. They foiled the hunt together…or rather, Nevano saved him so that he could go back to worrying over contraband in his fort. Even if he DID survive Red Mountain destroying the fort, his human lifespan would not allow him to survive this long. Something was seriously wrong here.
"I think you might be on to something that something is behind those attacks…but I don't think it's Carius." Nevano said slowly, "Looks like Frostmoth is the place to go investigate. Can you make it back to Raven Rock ok?"
"You're going alone?" The captain asked incredulously, ignoring his question, "Are you crazy?"
"I've been called that before." Nevano grinned, "I usually work alone, don't worry about that. The fort is not even a day's travel east right? I'll have something before too long."
"I…thank you, stranger." Veleth gave him an odd look, head tilted to the side, "Don't get yourself killed."
"Haven't gotten killed yet! And I've been doing this for a long time." Nevano said with a cocky grin, tugging his hood back over his face. He looked up and there, through the petrified trees, he could see Red Mountain. He tensed a little, watching the smoke rise above the trees high into the sky like a signal. A giant, smoking, ominous signal. He ignored the look the captain was giving him, tugged his hood down a little lower and set off through the sand, towards the mountain, for she was guiding the way.
XxXxXx
Fort Frostmoth had been one of the larger of the Imperial garrisons that dotted Morrowind back in the third era, certainly one of the more elaborate ones. It had to be though. It didn't house just Imperial guard, it also housed anyone adventurous, or stupid enough, to pay a visit to Solstheim, including curious citizens and dignitaries. Nevano remembered it being a stern stone mass on the outside but the interior had been warm and the smell of the pinewood used in the fires gave the fort a wonderful fresh smell that Nevano found he couldn't get enough of.
Now it was a mere husk of its former glory. The injured guard hadn't been kidding when he said the mountain had leveled the place. The mighty curtain wall had been smashed to bits, leaving only a few stubborn bits clinging to ruined turrets still standing. A few spots had a handful of bricks still upright but it was more held up by ash than by any of the original support. The main hall he could see still stood though it had sunk deep into the ash..or had the ash piled up around it? It was hard to really tell. Nevano glanced across the sea to the south where Red Mountain was clearly visible, moodily spewing smoke. He didn't realize that the mountain had hated Solstheim that badly.
However, he couldn't just walk into Fort Frostmoth and start looking around. Not with all the ash spawn walking all over the place. He counted two up in the ruined turrets, one down by the splintered jetty and one by the entrance to the courtyard. He was willing to bet there was another two or three in the courtyard itself. Even if there weren't anymore he couldn't see, the four alone would be a bit much for him. He needed to thin the herd a bit.
He slid Bonebiter off his back, knocking an arrow to the string. He was fairly certain he could take out the ash spawn on the jetty without alerting the others. He sincerely doubted that these things had a high level of intelligence in and of themselves, instead thinking more of a hive mentality. Either way, he didn't think they would notice him taking out this one. He drew the string to his cheek, took careful aim and let the arrow fly. It whistled through the air, straight and true and slammed into the ash spawn's back. Immediately the ash flared red as it crumpled in on itself and the ash spawn collapsed into a pile. One down.
He crept forward, up the remains of the stairs, holding Bonebiter tight in his hands. He knew the ash spawn were just above him but he couldn't even see them yet. At the very top of the stairs he quickly fired off an arrow at the ash spawn on top the turret to his right, bringing the creature down as Bonebiter's power shredded the thick spine keeping the creature upright. He turned back to the arch way that led to the courtyard and nearly fell backwards down the steps as an ash spawn poked its head up from on top of it. Azura alive, he hadn't seen that one! Annoyed at both himself for his carelessness and at the creature for being somewhat crafty, he sent an arrow straight into its face.
As soon as he entered the courtyard a voice bellowed out from the fort, "Men, an invader has entered the fort! Prepare yourselves for an ambush!" Nevano gulped as several ash spawn suddenly climbed up out of the ground like some sort of ashy spiders from hell. He tossed Bonebiter aside, seeing as how he had hopelessly lost the element of surprise and drew Hopesfire and Trueflame. As before, he didn't bother igniting them. These things were already on fire. Nevano didn't want to drain the two swords on something that would resist them.
The first spawn that came at him was slightly unprepared. It was still forming, its skin hadn't yet formed the hardened exterior of cooled molten…whatever comprised of the thing's skin, leaving it very vulnerable. A few quick swipes quickly returned it to the earth. The other two were fully formed and wholly focused on carving up the intruding dark elf. Fully formed and…massive.
"Shit…" Nevano muttered. He was strong, but there was no way he could withstand more than a few blocks from a single spawn before he was over-powered. There was no way he could fend off both at the same time. Quickly he planned out his course and took off at a run, angling slightly to the side, up an ash dune. It gave him just enough height to jump up and over their heads, landing lightly behind them and quickly slicing through the spine of the closest one before it could turn around. He thrust towards the final spawn but Hopesflame was knocked from his grasp as the creature spun around and swiped at him with a bellow. Desperately he parried with Trueflame, feeling the jarring jolt of the impact reverberate through his entire arm and down his spine. Trueflame could hold up against more hits but his body sure wasn't going to! Then an idea came to him. A risky, stupid idea and if he didn't judge it just right, he was going to get skewered. Modryn…would hate the idea with a burning passion. All the more reason to do it
He ducked under the next swing and threw himself at the spawn, almost like a girl into the arm's over her lover…except instead of a loving embrace, Trueflame was thrust upwards into the chest cavity where a heart should be. Oddly enough, Nevano thought he felt Truefire strike against something and thought he saw a small spark flare up. It lasted a mere instant though as he kept on falling, the ash spawn rapidly disintegrating beneath him. As the ground rushed up to meet him, Nevano saw the fatal flaw in his plan; there was nothing between him and Truefire. More than a little alarmed he twisted mid-air, trying to keep from slicing his torso open on his own sword. He landed in a twisted heap, ribs first, the air forced from his lungs. He groaned as the ache spread from his ribs throughout his entire upper body. His body might have been frozen at a really young age but that didn't stop him from feeling over 200 years worth of injuries after a landing like that!
"Fort Frostmoth will never fall! Long live the Empire!"
"Shut the hell up." Nevano muttered to himself as he slowly picked himself up and trudged over to retrieve Bonebiter. This was turning out to be more a pain in the arse than he initially thought. He crossed the courtyard, trying not to look around too much. It was too painful. He had once stirred up trouble by starting a snowball fight between the guards, causing Carius to come bellowing out of the fort…and got nailed in the face with a snowball. Nevano had never admitted to being the one that threw it. Now the place was engulfed in ash, the training dummies barely poking up through like men drowning in water, the forge completely obliterated, only the end of a work bench, splintered and useless, broke through. Nevano went straight up to the door that lead to Carius' office and nearly yanked his shoulder out of socket when it didn't budge. Cursing under his breath, he checked to make sure the door hadn't swelled shut in its frame but there was plenty of clearance. The door was simply locked.
"Great…going to the long way…" He muttered, going over to the main hall door. He hesitated at the door, hearing a low ominous rumble. "This damn place better not collapse on me or that captain and I WILL have a talk when I dig myself out…"
Nevano's mood didn't improve in the slightest bit when the first thing that happened when he walked into Fort Frostmoth was another ash spawn rising up right in front of him. The damn things popped out of nowhere worse than draugr! He thrust Trueflame down through its chest before it finished rising, sending it back into a harmless pile of ash. Then stars exploded in his vision as something slammed into him, throwing him clean across the entry hall and into the stone wall. He slid down, dazed, as ash and dust rained down on his head. It took several long moments for his vision to clear and another moment to extract himself from the wall. Belatedly he realized that nothing came after him. He blinked…then saw Truefire sticking up proudly from a pile of ash. One corner of his mouth twitched up as he retrieved his loyal blade.
Out of curiosity, he took the ladder up onto the tower and took a moment to enjoy the fresh air, needing a moment to regain his senses before he went back in. He grinned when he saw a herd of Netch floating around in a clearing but it faded as he looked off to the east. A giant mushroom rose on the horizon. A…Telvanni mushroom? Huh…he'd have to ask about that when he got back to Raven Rock. He felt pretty certain the Redoran would be keeping a watchful eye on any Telvanni that shared their spit of an island. He gave one last scan below to the fort to make sure he hadn't missed any ash spawn since he was pretty certain he was NOT going to be paying that close attention when he staggered out of here. With one last glance back at the horizon, Nevano reluctantly went back in.
Hurriedly, he crossed back through the fort, taking great care not to touch anything. He didn't want to upset anything, out of respect to the dead, wanting to keep this memorial to the brave soldiers assigned to the worst garrison in the Morrowind as intact as possible. In all reality, he had probably talked to the people that were now buried in the ash under his feet at some point. It was all very symbolic. He should be dead, dead many times over. Yet still he lived. Gunjar seemed to think that Azura was leading him around by the nose again but he honestly didn't know. Maybe she was. Maybe there really was something large brewing under the surface he couldn't quite see yet. He wasn't really sure how he felt about that just yet.
At the bottom of the staircase, Nevano's sharp ears picked up a now familiar sound. The ash spawn made a wheezing panting noise, almost like an old dog on a hot day. Each footstep they took made a hissing noise as burning ash rearranged itself on the ground. He picked up two sets of footsteps and, not wanting to make the same mistake twice, fired two arrows at the same time around the corner. Shooting two arrows at once was tricky. It required a lot more finger strength and concentration, not to mention the perfect arrangement of targets. He got lucky and the sizzling noise of ash spawn collapsing into piles made him smile.
He went down another stairwell and nearly bit his tongue when he saw all the coffins. He tensed and pulled the twin swords out, hurrying past them. He didn't want to think about the coffins. He desperately didn't want to think about WHO was in those coffins. Zeno Faustus, the blacksmith who knew everything but denied knowing anything. Raccan, the Redguard with whom he had started the infamous snowball fight. Vilbia Herennia who tried to bust him for some infraction or another (he couldn't remember) until he spent the night with her and convinced her to think of….other things. They could be in those coffins. People who were alive and vibrant in his memories now cold, dusty skeletons in a wooden box. He couldn't handle the thought. He was so focused on ignoring the coffins that he practically ran into a spawn guarding the short hall, startling them both. The ash spawn wheezed and took a step back. Nevano didn't hesitate; he arced both swords up into its abdomen, disintegrating it.
He entered the room the spawn was guarding. Now the coffins lining the halls outside made sense. This room was a tomb. The coffins outside had been waiting for a ship to take the remains to their respective homelands but Red Mountain erupting at disrupted that. This room was the actual tomb for those who didn't believe in a ground burial. Offerings and chests of belongings sat with the coffins. However it had been disturbed. Several of the coffins had been cracked open and stacked in the center of the room, acting as a table. On that table, along with alchemical ingredients and several embalming tools, he found a worn leather journal. Carefully avoiding the tools, he picked up the journal and flipped it open. The more he read, the more he felt sick to his stomach. He threw it to the ground, breathing hard. Necromancy. Of course it was…he had heard Carius' voice but he had refused to BELIEVE it at the time…but to finally have the truth was more difficult to swallow than he thought.
He picked up the journal again and flipped it over, looking for a name or something to identify the owner. There, stamped on the inside cover were tiny daedric letters that spelled out a name: Ildari Sarothril. Quaking in anger, Nevano shoved the journal in his pack, the name burned in his memory. This was someone he planned on finding and stopping once and for all. A key sat on the coffins next to where the journal had sat. He grabbed it and made his way back up the stairs, more than a little relieved to be leaving the coffins behind to their eternal rest. Maybe he should find a way to seal Fort Frostmoth after all was said and done. For right now, though, he needed to put Carius back at peace.
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A/N: Because things are starting to head towards MY plot, I'm tweaking things a bit to mesh it perfectly. We're starting to muddy the waters kids!
