"Did you have to kill her, though?" Ruby asked her older sister as they rode along. Blake, M'rissi, and Inigo had split up a little while back after they left Windhelm to go through Dawnstar once it became apparent that the delays for boats was too great, and then Yang had started telling the others about her meeting with Iorel as they traveled. "You could have convinced her to try and live a little, see the way Tamriel is now maybe."
"Look, Ruby, it's not that simple." Yang sighed and shook her head, a remorseful look on her face. "She was already dead to the world. She couldn't feel anything, couldn't taste, couldn't smile… Remember that Orc guy who got killed by that dragon?"
"Yeah," she sadly answered.
"Imagine that, times a thousand. He just figured it was time to go with a roar rather than a whimper. If I didn't kill Iorel, she might have never died. She'd just be stuck wandering the world for eternity until something else came along and finally did her in. She wanted to go, and honestly, it would've been cruel to leave her."
"At the very least, her testimony has given everyone some insight into what really occurred all those millennia ago," Weiss stated as she began scratching behind one of Toggle's ears. "Master Urag looked joyous at being able to pen the transcription of your conversation with her. Good call recording that."
"I really didn't expect it to go that deep or that far. I just thought I'd found a cool draugr that I could post a video of on the 'net once we get back. Still, I don't think the Nords are going to like it once they find out one of their greatest heroes was a murderous asshole."
"Yang!" Ruby objected. "Language!"
"You may be right, but considering how the war with the Falmer went, and how he also warred against the Giants, who had been their allies in times before, it's certainly believable."
"As much as a part of me chafes at the idea of the founder of Skyrim being a treacherous manipulator," Lydia began, "I'd have to concede that he seemed far more a warmonger than a saint."
"Even if your history paints him as the hero?" Erevan asked, his tone neither accusatory nor surprised.
"Well, he's the one who wrote it. In the end, I can't imagine him writing down the parts he felt wouldn't have flattered him."
"You are quite open-minded."
"Thank you, I suppose." Lydia nodded at the Dunmer knight. Part of her thought that her so-called 'open-mindedness' was simply a byproduct of being with her charge over the past two months, but she wasn't complaining. The group continued onward, talking among themselves about various topics, ranging from Remnant to Nirn, magical to mundane, before finally Kynesgrove came into view. Once they entered the village proper, the erected walls still standing and guarded, the group dismounted and hitched their mounts to a stable. While Ruby and Lydia went into the general store to replenish their supplies, Yang headed straight for the Braidwood and stopped when she saw Tolan outside practicing with his hammer. As she approached the Vigilant, he ceased his movements and looked over to her while taking a few deep breaths of air.
"Stendarr be praised, you're finally back!" he declared while shouldering the weapon. "We can finally get a move on!"
"Yeah." Yang winced at the restless expression on Tolan's face but pressed on. "Just sit and hang tight. We'll be heading out tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? It's still morning," Tolan emphasized with pointed movements with his arms. "What's wrong with today? We need to hurry to Dimhollow before the vampires get a hold of whatever they're after."
"Yeah, I know, but trust me, we'll make it. Today's mostly about getting ourselves together. I don't know if you've heard but…a lot went down in Winterhold, and after a few days of travel, we need the rest," Yang countered with a sympathetic tone. Truth be told, she did understand his impatience. Had she been in his shoes, she might feel the same thing, but throwing themselves from one job to the other was just asking for disaster. The fact they got away with it during the whole crisis from earlier in the week was partly luck, partly Weiss suddenly being able to summon dragon heads. "This place is practically on the other side of Skyrim, so we're not going to get there very quickly. Just hold your horses, and tomorrow we'll be off." She looked over to where Erevan was speaking with the stablehands and then over to Weiss purchasing a cart. "Me and my buddy are going to go grab something just outside of town. While we're getting ready for that, why don't you and Erevan go over traveling supplies? It'll help take your mind off your worries."
The Vigilant muttered something under his breath and started stomping off towards the inn's doors. Yang sighed, rubbing the back of her head and idly noting how much longer her hair was getting, and then walked over to where her sister and her housecarl were getting ready to head off again.
"You sure you're good with just the two of you?" she asked, to which Ruby nodded.
"I am. We don't know how serious what Delphine wants is, or how much time we have for this window. Hopefully it's nothing too narrow, and I'll call you guys if there's any sort of emergency."
"Alright. Be a good girl, and play nice with the elven supremacists," Yang joked as she hugged Ruby with one arm and rubbed her shoulder.
"Seriously?" Ruby blew a raspberry at her elder sister before her eyes locked on some green ore chunks on a stall. She held one up and began looking it over in interest.
"That's some genuine orichalcum," the Bosmer with short antler spikes explained with a grin. "I was able to buy it from some Orcs when I was on the way here from Falkreath."
"Yeah, looks good. Hey, I'm gonna get a couple of these before I go. I have an idea that needs a few. Just let me go ask my partner for some money." Yang watched her go do so and then looked over at the other wares available. Most of it seemed like random if useful junk that he'd bartered for on the road to the place, like an array of boots and shoes of varying wear, or sets of jewelry hanging in a fashion somehow both haphazard and eye-catching. Ruby then returned, a bag of coins in one hand and a horned mask on her face that made Yang smile for some inexplicable reason.
"So, how much for the ore, my friend?"
After riding through thick snow for several hours, Blake began to curse her slip of impatience. Windhelm had frozen all movements from the docks after the Magnus Event, and it was going to be at least a week before the Jarl was planning to let business go back to normal. Thus she had decided to go up to Dawnstar, where the effects would have been less worrying and she and her companions could get a boat from there to Solitude. However, the fall snows were laying on thick in this part of the world, and the Pale was one of the coldest Holds, second only to Winterhold, but that place hadn't exactly been business as usual while she was there. They also could have stayed a while longer at Helarchen Creek and the Nightgate Inn, but once again, Blake let her impatience get the better of her the moment she felt reasonably warm. M'rissi had complained, but Blake was able to bribe her with promises of fish.
"That Moris was a very rude man," the Khajiit girl complained as they rode on, a fur coat, leather, and a gambeson guarding her against the cold. "But at least the Orc fellow was nice and shared a cream treat."
"You really need to be careful about who you accept food from," Blake warned her before rubbing her arms.
"That is true," Inigo agreed with her. "You never know when someone is giving you a poisoned apple, for instance. You could just be crunching away and then suddenly die in your seat. Of course, they'd have to want to kill you, for some reason, and most of the people who want us dead are now dead instead. Other dangers would be people with filthy hands poking your pies, or rude waitresses spitting in your drinks. Of course, people selling you food and drink want you to come back, so they usually do their best."
"My folks always said you should treat your servers well."
"She does not know if hers ever said such." M'rissi then whimpered before looking towards the passing woods, snow-covered evergreens as far as they could see. Blake looked back and tried to think of something to say to steer her friend's mind away from sadder thoughts, but Inigo spoke up first.
"You know, I think I see a Giant fire up ahead. Maybe we could get warm there, if the Giants let us."
"Crap, I don't have a Giantspeech amulet," Blake lamented. Still, Giants weren't normally hostile. She figured that if they just came close to the fire and didn't bother anything then the big folk would just leave them be. As they came up closer to the fire, they saw what looked like a group of bandits fighting against two Giants and a bull mammoth before being utterly, and sometimes literally, stomped. There was also a man helping them, wearing primitive looking furs with bones dangling from it in decoration. As the cat people got close to the flames and let themselves be warmed up, the Giants, mammoth, and Nord came back. The two Giant men eyed them warily while the mammoth went on ignoring them, digging through snow to find bits of grass and other shrubbery. The Nord man looked at them in caution as he slowly came up and M'rissi waved towards him before putting her hands back to the fire.
"Hello!"
"K'voja! Well met, big one," the man greeted, his voice deep, as though coming up from the bottom of his diaphragm. The trio all looked on in confusion, as each had to look up to meet his eyes.
"You aren't exactly small yourself, friend," Inigo pointed out.
"Ah, Berg is…very puny for Giant. Puny mammoth still is more size than…big flea."
M'rissi looked back over at Blake, worry etched across her face.
"Blake, man is doing crazy talk," she whispered in fright.
One of the Giants said something and then Berg looked over and said something back, making big pauses in order to take in the lungful of air needed to speak to them. He then looked back over at the group.
"Tabaaki just keeps mind, no hurt, no take. Ha'mari cat fine."
"That's good to know," Blake stated before looking back north. "We were just getting a little warmth for the road. We should try to reach Dawnstar before nightfall. You have a good day watching over your mammoth, Berg."
"Unh, goodbye."
As the three walked away, Blake let a small groan escape her and her friends looked towards her.
"Something on your mind?" Inigo asked.
"I'm tired of running into crazy everywhere."
"I know how you feel. Sometimes the people around are so crazy they make me feel sane."
"That is verybad, because you are not sane," M'rissi pointed out. "She and Yang proved it."
As the sun was beginning to set, Yang, Weiss, and Erevan rode back into the village with Toggle pulling along a cart full of the purer Dwemer metals. Weiss had gauged prices and purity of the different types of pieces and ended up picking out the ones that would bring in the most profit for the least weight. Yang had also claimed several pounds for her own use, believing that they could be used in her projects effectively. She already had a sample of the sort of armor she was planning that she'd managed to put together in Winterhold, but she was always coming up with new angles and improvements on the main design, like adding plates of Dwemer metal in certain places for extra protection. She still hadn't figured out what to use for the stretching buffer layer though.
"You know, you don't see too many mixed pieces," she contemplated. "I mean, mixed sets, yeah. You'll see the guy with a plain iron cuirass, steel greaves, and orichalcum gauntlets, but you never see a guy with a custom cuirass made of steel with orichalcum reinforcement. Even the things that are technically mixed are done so uniformly, like the moonstone in glass armor. Huh, that's another thing. You don't normally hear glass and think of it as an effective armor."
"It's normally meant to serve as a light alternative to plate," Erevan explained. "The sort of armor you normally see Thalmor justicars wear, elven armor, is essentially a lighter laminar in comparison. A bit better than a single layer of leather, but nearly every metal is stronger. They're also all heavier as well. Despite the name, glass armor is nothing like what they use in the panes of a window. It's more shaped crystal than anything else."
They talked a little more on different materials before coming to a stop. While Weiss and Erevan went to see about selling some of their loot, Yang headed inside Braidwood, stretching out and seemingly catching a few men's eyes.
"Okay, Tolan, we're back! Next time we head out it's straight to Dimhollow," she declared, half expecting either a joyous response or one of annoyed relief. Instead, she received no response at all. "Uh, Tolan?"
"Your Vigilant friend headed out a while ago," Iddra said as she set aside a mug she'd just dried. "Not long after you left, actually. Looked mad."
"Aw shhhhhhh-" Yang smacked a palm to her face and rubbed it around. "Did he happen to say where he was going?"
"Sorry, no. He was kind of in a hurry. Had that look in his eye, the sort that makes you get out of a man's way and keep your questions to yourself."
"Crap! Thanks anyways. Tally up whatever he owes you, I'll be right back." Yang began cursing herself for not taking into account the man doing something bullheaded like that. 'Gotta stop him before he gets himself killed. Man, Weiss is not gonna like this.'
The last and only time Blake had ever been in Dawnstar, she had seen it from the deck of a boat and never even left the docks. As she entered the town by land, she was grateful that she hadn't gone through it before. The place looked absolutely dreadful. Every other person was giving them suspicious glares, and she had already heard the Jarl making threats towards a pair of retired soldiers. Not to mention the cold was unbearable to the cat Faunus, despite her fur coat. Doing her best to keep them away from watchful eyes, Blake dragged them all to the inn, only to run into another problem.
"It's a curse! It has to be! I… I've got to get out of this town!" a woman in miner's clothes stuttered out fearfully, loud and clear enough to be heard over the sailors talking about sea monsters, fishfolk, and manatees.
"Irgnir, get a hold of yourself," another miner tried to calm her. "They're just dreams. Please tell her, Erandur."
"Listen to your friend," a Dunmer in priestly robes with a golden hood tried to comfort them. "They are just dreams, my dear. I assure you that it's quite normal."
"It's the same dream over and over," she argued. "You think that's normal? It's evil I tell you!"
"Erandur, she has a point. You keep telling us no harm will follow these dreams, but they must be an omen."
"Give him a chance to speak," the bartender said. "He's trying to help us."
"Everyone, please. I'm doing what I can to end these nightmares. In the meantime, all I ask is you remain strong and put your trust in Lady Mara."
"I… I will," Irgnir got out. "Thank you."
As the small crowd dispersed, Blake finally felt comfortable enough to go forward and get herself and her friends something to eat. After wolfing down a warm bowl of saltwater fish soup, Blake could already feel the cold of the road leaving her. Inigo seemed greatly satisfied with his horker steak and sweet roll. M'rissi practically licked her bowl clean, but then looked back at the priest before getting out of her seat and heading over to him.
"What troubles you, my daughter?" the Dunmer asked when she stopped before him.
"Um, there was talking of nightmares. M'rissi does not want to have a lot of nightmares if she stays here." Blake stood up and walked over to them, Inigo watching from his seat. "How bad are they? Who is having them? Can M'rissi not have them?"
Blake half expected the elf to smile, but instead he sighed sadly.
"They're horrible. In fact, these nightmares are actually a great danger to the town," he said lowly before looking around to confirm none of the townsfolk were nearby. "Unfortunately, there's little I can do about it."
"Wait, the nightmares are…dangerous?" M'rissi asked in a frightened whisper before moaning in discomfort and fear. "Maybe we shouldn't stay here."
"How can a nightmare be dangerous?" Blake asked. "Dreams can't hurt you."
"These dreams are manifestations of the Daedric Lord Vaermina," Erandur explained, causing both the women's ears to shoot up in alarm. "She has an awful hunger for our memories. In return, she leaves behind nightmares not unlike a cough marks a serious illness. I must end her terrible influence over these people before the damage becomes permanent."
"Daedra. Great." Blake cursed as she was certain there was a quiet voice laughing somewhere. "Something tells me you'll need help."
"Yes. While I would have preferred to do this on my own, I need the assistance of at least one other person to accomplish what needs to be done."
"Blake is one person," M'rissi pointed out.
"Yeah, and so are you," she fired back while poking M'rissi's shoulder, but then looked back at Erandur with a serious gaze. "Alright. If there's really something threatening the townspeople, I can't in good conscience leave it be. What's the plan?"
"I need to return to the source of the problem, Nightcaller Temple."
Blake blinked before reaching up and rubbing her chin. "Return? So you've already been there?"
The elf looked away nervously and cleared his throat. "I've already said too much. If anyone overhears us we could start a panic." He took in a deep breath and looked back to her. "I would simply ask that you trust me and help me to end Dawnstar's nightmares."
Blake's eyes narrowed a moment, but then she nodded. "Fine. I'll go with it for now."
Nightcaller Temple, known to the townsfolk as the Temple of Dawn, was only a short distance from Dawnstar, visible up on a hill from the town itself. In fact, it was usually the final marker showing people that they were close to the Pale's capital. The three had noticed it coming in, but had written it off as another crumbling ruin, which Skyrim seemed to have in droves.
"So Vaermina makes the nightmares and steals memories?" M'rissi asked with a small mewl of sadness. "She really does not like how this one sounds."
"I have to agree. It does not sound like a fair trade," Inigo concurred. "But I can especially see why you would dislike such a being."
"Just how bad can it get, anyways?" Blake asked. "I mean, there's only so many memories you can steal before people…forget to… Oh, I just figured out how bad this can get. A town full of people forgetting most of their lives and driven paranoid by constant horrible nightmares…"
"That's why we have to stop it," Erandur agreed as they reached the door at the front of the old ruin. He stopped and then turned towards the others. "Before we enter, I must warn you about the dangers that could be lurking within. Years ago, this temple was raided by an Orc war party seeking revenge. They were being plagued by nightmares just as the people of Dawnstar."
"I see. Did they win?"
"No. Knowing that they could never defeat the Orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call "the Miasma," putting everyone to sleep."
"Okay, how's that dangerous? We don't have to go where it's lingering around, do we?"
"That's not it. The problem is that once this place is unsealed, the Miasma will begin to dissipate and they'll awaken, both Orcs and priests alike."
"And that's bad, because the priests will be fighting off anyone they don't recognize, and the Orcs will be trying to gut anyone not an Orc by default."
"Worse, I'm afraid. If it were so simple, we might have a chance at diplomacy. Not only does the gas place the affected into a deep sleep, for the purpose of rituals and the like, but because these rituals could take months or even years, it was designed to slow the aging process. Unfortunately, the longer one remains exposed to the Miasma, the more the mind can become damaged. Sometimes people would lose their minds entirely. Some would simply never awake at all. After all these years, I doubt we'll even run across more than a handful who have kept their sanity intact."
"We'll be careful," Blake said before they headed inside. The space before them was about the size of a chapel, complete with a podium and broken pews. At the very back was a slab of stone that reached the ceiling, an icon of a woman with serpents rising from her shoulders carved upon it. Erandur approached it and began using a magic spell that appeared as purple flames. The stone icon seemed to fade until all that was left was a transparent purple image that looked almost like a hologram to Blake's eyes. Erandur walked through it and the others followed him, though they were wary of the purple mist gathered around their calves and ankels that was beginning to slowly disperse.
"Now I can show you the source of these nightmares. Over here," he indicated a steel grate along a window. Blake looked through and down to see another icon with an object in front of it that looked like a ram's skull set upon a thin, spine-like pedestal, a sort of energy field surrounding it. "Behold, the Skull of Corruption, the source of Dawnstar's woes. We must reach the inner sanctum and destroy it. Come, there's no time to lose."
At first, Blake wanted to argue that there was no need to rush, but then recalled that the place was basically on a timer until its unstable residents started waking up. The three followed the priest down the stairway, watching as the Miasma thinned before them. Blake halted for a moment when it seemed to reach up to her waist, but then it faded away again and she continued forward. They began passing by several Orcs and a couple of men in purple robes with deep cuts on their bodies, the blood spilled next to them still looking red, but dry. Just before they reached a doorway, the Orcs began to shift and pick themselves up. Everyone went for their weapons, Blake grabbing her two daggers while Erandur pulled out a bronze mace.
"Uh, maybe they will be willing to talk," Inigo suggested.
"Destroy… Destroy this place!" one of them screamed before taking out his sword and charging the Khajiit. Inigo blocked him and then kicked his gut, knocking him back.
"Never mind."
Blake crossed the blades of her weapons to block an axe strike then shoved back before throwing the Daedric dagger, hitting the Orc in the throat. Another came at her from the side and she flipped back under his hammer before coming up while drawing Gambol Shroud. The Orc fell from the slice she rent up his leg and then she chopped down, taking his head off. Erandur smashed one across the face, putting the last of the Orcs that had just awakened back down. He then turned back towards the doorway, which had a sort of shield over it.
"Damn it. The priests must have activated this barrier when the Miasma was released."
"Looks difficult to get past," Blake stated, silently wishing that Weiss or at least her godly staff was here.
"Impossible, actually." The priest of Mara then stroked his beard. "Hm, I wonder… There may be a way to bypass the barrier, but I must check their library and confirm it can be done."
"He knows far too much for a simple priest of the Divines." Blake groaned as the voice of Mephala once again echoed through the Ebony Blade.
'You know, I really didn't need that pointed out to me.'
"But what is he hiding?"
Blake internally sighed and took a deep breath. "Okay, why do you know so much about this place?" she shot towards him. "You know the history, you know about this Skull, and you even know what these cultists did to lock it up, which we now see should be impossible for an outsider to know."
The elf looked away in shame and sighed himself. "I suppose there's no point in concealing the truth any longer. My knowledge of this temple comes from personal experience. I was a priest of Vaermina."
"What? You were lying to us?" M'rissi shouted. "She thought you were a kindly priest!"
"I didn't lie, I swear! I just…wasn't telling the whole truth." M'rissi hissed, but Blake held up a hand to keep her from moving towards him.
"Hold on, M'ri. Erandur, thank you for sharing this, but what exactly were you keeping it a secret for? It's not like we couldn't figure it out eventually."
"Because…when the Orcs invaded the temple, I fled. I left my brothers and sisters here to die. I've spent the last few decades living in regret and seeking redemption from Mara, and by Her Benevolence, I will right my wrongs."
Blake nodded and then looked back down at the Skull of Corruption beneath them. "Alright. Let's go then."
"Blake, you trust him?" Inigo asked.
"It'd be hypocritical of me not to," she admitted. "We're not here to point blame at anyone or berate people for their pasts. We're trying to get down to that Skull and get rid of it."
"Thank you, child." Erandur smiled. "Come, the library was up here."
They went back up the stairs, but Blake paused when she realized she was forgetting something. Inigo noticed and reached over and pulled her Daedric dagger out of the Orc it was still in. He was about to hand it over when he shouted and tossed the dagger up. It landed with a few clanks and Blake scooped it off the ground.
"What happened?"
"Your dagger just hissed at me! Does it do that often?"
"What? That's impossible."
"Is that Daedric?" Erandur asked, to which Blake nodded while showing him the impossibly sharp dagger. He sucked in a breath and shook his head. "Best be careful with that. The spirits of the Daedra such things are made of tend to linger on within."
Blake blinked and then looked at the weapon again. It never gave her any problems as far as she could tell. It did tend to cut through things that metal had no right cutting through as easily as it did, even with her Aura reinforcing it, but that was really it. Deciding to look into it more later, she sheathed it and went on.
"So how exactly is this Skull doing its duggery?" Inigo asked after a moment.
"Lore holds that the Skull of Corruption possesses a constant hunger for the memories of others. The Skull has been out of touch for so long, I fear it's gained the ability to reach out on its own and try to feed. What it does with these memories is just conjecture and an argument for scholars and historians to this very day."
"So it's almost like it can think on its own. …Not a very comforting thought."
Almost involuntarily, Blake reached back and brushed three fingers across the hilt of the Ebony Blade. It had been a while since she last had to resort to using it, though she had given it serious thought against Morokei and Ancano. That thought then reminded her of something else and she reached down to feel the scar on her abdomen. Things still weren't back to normal, which Collette had noted. The fact that she was late was also giving her some worries in that regard.
As they passed through a door, the sounds of clashing metal and elemental magic hit their ears. The group rushed forward and saw reawakened Orcs and cultists all battling, each of them with wide eyes.
"Defilers… Kill the defilers!" a Redguard woman screamed before an Orc bowled her over. Before he could stab her prone form, another cultist set him ablaze. Another Orc then chopped one of his arms off, eliciting a scream and then an electrified grasp from his remaining hand. The entire area devolved into an orgy of violence until none remained standing except an Orc holding a pair of axes. He was still looking about frantically for any opponents, until an arrow sank into his chest, felling him.
"This stuff really did drive them mad," Blake stated before shouldering her bow.
"Indeed." Erandur looked around, sighing in despair as he did. Blake began searching around, realizing that she had no idea what they were even looking for, and that many of the books were burned or weathered.
"What do we need?"
"It's a book of alchemical recipes called The Dreamstride. The tome bears the likeness of Vaermina on the cover. It should be in here somewhere. Try searching around the balcony. I'll look around the bottom."
As he headed down to do so, Blake began going over every book she could find. A few had survived whatever catastrophes had taken the others, seemingly thanks to protective enchantments, while other were worn, but still legible. M'rissi had stopped and had her nose stuck in one for a while even as the others continued their search.
"Wait, Blake, she has a question. What does it mean to find a frisky lad or several?"
Blake nearly toppled over at that and Inigo seemed to be doing an impression of being frozen.
"Uh, I'll explain it later." M'rissi harrumphed before looking back into the book. Blake shook her head and started rubbing her face as she went, stopping in front of a bookshelf next to the one she had just combed. Several of the tomes were destroyed on this one, but she picked one up and found it to have an image on its face just like the two icons.
"I think I found it," she called out to Erandur before leaping down. The priest approached and took the book in his hands.
"Let's take a look…" he muttered before flipping through some of the pages and then running his fingers along the lines. After a few moments of searching, he let out a grin. "Mara be praised! There is a way past the barrier to the inner sanctum. It involves a recipe for a liquid known as Vaermina's Torpor."
"That's a potion, right?"
"Yes. The Torpor grants an ability the priests of Vaermina call "The Dreamstride"; using dreams to travel distances in the real world." Blake's eyebrows arched up as one ear tilted down.
"Wait, teleporting through dreams? Are you sure about that?" Blake was skeptical of that, something the priest picked up on easily.
"I assure you, the Dreamstride is well-known in Vaerminian lore. Sadly, I have yet to see it function in person."
"So you don't really know." Blake sighed and crossed her arms. "Well, as long as we're not the ones drinking it." Erandur's lips curled in as his eyes looked over to the side. "Come on. No?"
"As a sworn priest of Mara, the elixir won't work for me," he explained. "The Torpor will only work for priests of Vaermina or the unaffiliated."
Blake thought about the sword on her back and its master and creator.
"I guess being picked by one doesn't count either?"
"Not unless you've devoted yourself to something in particular. Why? Is something the matter?"
"Eh, nothing I can't handle."
"Wait, you have not asked M'rissi if she is capable," the Khajiit woman objected.
"No, you're not doing it," Blake told her firmly, remembering that out of the past five nights, M'rissi's night terrors didn't come up in only one of them. When she looked ready to argue, Blake quickly tried to think up an excuse. "If something happens outside of the dream, I'm counting on you and Inigo to protect me."
Her ears went up and then back down as she swiftly went from surprise to pride. "Of course she will protect you, like a noble warrior protecting a sleeping princess. Do not take too long with the magical dreaming then."
"I'm fine with remaining outside of the nightmare creature's potion-induced dreams as well. It does not sound like a pleasant experience. Not that I'm wishing it upon you, of course."
"Great." She looked back to Erandur. "So, how do we make some?"
"We may not have to. The laboratory is in the east wing, connected to the library. If we go there, we should be able to locate a sample."
"Lead the way," Blake said with a gesture of her arm. As the priest bowed his head and continued on, she let out a sigh.
"He may lead you to harm with this potion."
"So how safe is this thing?" Blake asked him as they entered a hallway. 'Can you not, for today?' she directed inwardly.
"I will not lie to you, there is some risk involved," he admitted as he looked back to her for a moment. "The last time the Torpor was imbibed could have been decades ago. But I swear upon Lady Mara that I will do everything in my power to prevent any harm from befalling you."
They came across a few bodies as they went, likely freshly killed going by the wet pools of blood that had yet to finish spreading, from both the cultists and their invaders. As they came closer to the laboratory, the sounds of a struggle were heard again and Blake dashed forward. A Bretonnic man was struggling against an Orc that quickly overpowered him, shoving him into a wall before grabbing him by his tunic and then pulling him overhead. The cultist's neck snapped into an unnatural angle, and the Orc let the body hit the floor before looking over to an Imperial woman who was crawling up the stairs while clutching her bleeding side. As he hefted a hammer to crush her, Blake shot forward, slicing off his arms with Gambol Shroud. Just as he began screaming from the pain, she turned and stabbed into his neck from behind. Once he was dealt with, Blake searched the points of the room for threats, even looking up like most people forgot to do. Once she saw it was clear of standing enemies she went over to the woman, who from the looks of things couldn't have been out of her teens yet. One hand started summoning healing magics while the other sheathed her blade and then began a calming spell. Erandur came up and looked down at her as well.
"Is she…?"
"She'll live. From what I can tell, it's mostly just a graze. You know healing, right?"
"Of course," he said before throwing his own Restoration magic into the mix. After a moment, her injury began closing as though zippered from either end, leaving pinkish, not quite scarred flesh where a gaping wound had once been.
"We'll need to tie her up or something." Inigo came over and offered a few strips of leather, which Blake took and used to bind her hands. "Also, maybe we should put her somewhere comfortable," he suggested further.
"Just take those furs from that shelf and pile them up," Erandur indicated with a nod of his head. Once done, the other two took the woman over and set her atop them. As they did, Blake noticed a man struggling, reaching up to grasp at the axe embedded in his chest. She hit him with Calm and he stopped, giving her a chance to observe the wound closely.
"Looks like this guy got lucky," Blake stated as she pressed a hand down and grabbed the axe as close to its head as she could. With a sharp tug, she pulled it loose and immediately sent healing energies into him. While his flesh wound sealed up fine enough, she could feel that the damage to his ribs and sternum would need far more time. Rather than spend the next hour trying to heal bones, Blake cut off the spell, dug out a healing potion, and fed it to him before giving him the same treatment as the woman.
"Are we going to stop and save everyone?" M'rissi asked as she came over with a large bottle in hand.
"We're just saving who we can," Blake answered. "If someone isn't trying to kill us, then there's no reason to kill them."
"She supposes that's true, but we were not killing those two in the first place. Oh, and she found your dream potion." M'rissi held out the bottle, which Blake now saw had a likeness of Vaermina drawn onto a piece of paper glued to it. She took it in hand and then showed in to the former cultist.
"This it?"
"Yes, that's the one," he said with a sigh of relief before looking around. "Good luck to us for finding it. This place looks like it was ransacked by the Orcs before the Miasma settled." He nodded and then looked at Blake in the eyes. "So… I've taken us this far, but you need to guide us the rest of the way."
"Right. Let me get comfortable." Blake took one of the furs that weren't currently under their muddled prisoners and set it out before sitting upon it. With a deep breath, she looked over to Inigo. "While I'm out, search the place we've gone through so far. Bring any survivors we might have missed here for Erandur to look over, and bag up anything we can use." That those could be valuable to pawn off at a later time went unsaid.
"No problem. Don't take too long for your beauty rest. The world won't be able to handle much more from you."
M'rissi's ears suddenly shot back as she looked at Inigo angrily. "What? What do you mean by that?" Inigo's eyes widened and he looked to Blake for help. In response, the Faunus uncorked the potion while holding his gaze then downed it, tasting something like minty dirt that chilled her throat as she swallowed the concoction quickly. Once it was gone, Blake laid back and closed her eyes, the feeling of falling into sleep coming over her.
As her mind reeled at the feeling of suddenly going from one's back to their feet, a bright, blurry image came into view. There was a Dunmer with a red Mohawk and a bald-headed Nord with a braided beard, both in the robes of Vaermina's priests, standing before her.
"The Orcs have breached the inner sanctum, Brother Veren," the Nord told his comrade, who sadly shook his head before scowling.
"We must hold. We cannot allow the Skull to fall into their hands."
"But…no more than a handful of us remain, brother," the Nord lamented.
"Then we have no choice," Veren decided. "The Miasma must be released."
"The Miasma? But, brother…"
"We have no alternative. It's the will of Vaermina." He suddenly turned towards Blake and looked directly at her. Rather than run or brace herself, as she wanted to, she met his gaze, though shakily. "And what about you, Brother Casimir? Are you prepared to serve the will of Vaermina?"
"I've made my peace," she answered, though her voice sounded more like that of a young man in his late teens. "I'm ready."
"Then it's decided," the Dunmer cultist declared before nodding and crossing his arms. "Brother Casimir, you must activate the barrier and release the Miasma. Let nothing stop you." He then looked over to the Nord as Blake slowly backed away, the feeling of control over her legs returning slightly. "Brother Thorek, we must remain here and guard this Skull with our lives if necessary."
"Agreed. To the death."
"Then let it be done. Farewell, brother."
Blake began to leave the room they were in, the sounds of battle echoing out from all around her. Her hearing seemed as dulled as her vision was blurred and darkened and brightened in all the wrong ways, but she could still hear flesh being torn, magic erupting, and bloodcurdling screams. She dashed past both people caught up in combat and those lying down and dying. An older woman reached out towards her, trying to staunch her bleeding stump where a foot once was.
"Brother, help!" she cried out before an axe swung in and chopped through her neck, courtesy of an Orc who had blood splashed across half his body. A man came at him with a shout, firing electricity from his hand and into the foe. Blake tried to reach for a weapon, but her arms refused to follow instruction, and her legs were doing their damnedest to run. As she sped away from the battle, she realized that the heavy, shaky breathing she was hearing was her own.
After dodging around several more fights and scenes of death, she came upon the doorway where she remembered the barrier was. She grasped a chain and pulled, and the sounds of something like massive billows began to echo out across the temple. Again, as though on autopilot, she turned and grabbed a Soul Gem from a shelf and walked over to a holster on the wall. She held it up and, trembling, began to set it in. Everything seemed to freeze in place for a long moment, brightness fading away, dark corners becoming visible as they should have been, sounds becoming clearer, and the general blurriness she had experienced for the past minute or so going away. Next thing she knew, her hand was upon a Soul Gem with a barrier spell arcing from it towards the barrier at the doorway. Erandur, M'rissi, and Inigo stood at the other side, looking at her in amazement. Shaking her head to clear it of cobwebs, Blake took the gem from the holster, canceling the barrier it had been making.
"It… It worked!" Erandur exclaimed as she stumbled through. "Mara be praised!"
"Don't sound so surprised," she muttered while rubbing her eyes.
"Blake, you completely disappeared!" M'rissi shouted as she came up to her. "She was afraid you were gone forever and was going to avenge you on the priest, but then Inigo said we should come up here. He said it made, uh, narr'tive sense."
The blue Khajiit just shrugged. "This was our goal, after all. Oh, and I found another woman and an Orc. They are tied up with the others until we figure out what to do with them."
"Thanks." Blake coughed a few times and then looked back to the path opened up before them. "Gods, there's a lot more down there. Or there was. The Miasma would've been cleared out a while ago, so I can't imagine anyone will still be asleep. We'll need to be more careful, but we've got to get down there."
"Yes, we must go forward," Erandur declared. "The inner sanctum lies ahead. We must reach the Skull and put an end to Dawnstar's troubles. Lead on, my friend."
Blake nodded and began re-trekking from the opposite direction she had just come from. Bodies lied all about, both pools of dry blood and fresher ones scattered around the temple's halls. She saw the corpse of the woman who had called out to her –or rather, the person whose memories she had viewed – now cold and gone. Towards the end of their journey, Blake had begun feeling an intense unease. She knew several people were still alive and well when the Miasma was released, and yet not nearly so many corpses were on the ground. At the inner sanctum, she could see their objective ahead, and resisted the urge to believe it was all over. Her suspicions proved valid when the four paused and the two priests from her dream slowly came from around the corners.
"Wait…" Erandur said as he lowered his stance. Blake held herself at the ready, seeing as the Dunmer held an Orcish mace and the Nord had what looked like a lightning enchanted sword. Erandur slowly walked forward while they approached.
"Veren, Thorek, you're alive!"
"No thanks to you, Casimir," Veren spat, startling Blake. Before she could really absorb what was going on, Erandur shook his head and responded.
"I no longer use that name. I am Erandur, priest of Mara."
"You're a traitor," the other Dark Elf accused. "You left us to die and then ran before the Miasma took you."
"No, I… I was scared," Erandur stuttered out. "I wasn't ready to sleep."
"Enough of your lies!" At that, half a dozen other Vaermina cultists came out of hiding, each of them with spells at the ready. Some of them still held a wild look in their eyes, but whatever insanity they had seemed focused on their four enemies. "We can't allow you to destroy the Skull, priest of Mara," Veren mockingly told him. Erandur braced himself and went back at the ready.
"Then you leave me no choice!"
Veren snarled and swung his mace at Erandur, who backpedaled out of the way before swinging back. Several cultists readied spells, but two black arrows sinking into two of their heads and a bolt of lightning hitting a third caused them to redirect their attention to those who had almost halved their number within seconds. Thorek came in going for Erandur, but Blake stepped in the way while drawing her daggers and blocked his blade. Like she'd come to learn, the ebony material didn't let the electricity flow through. She kicked the man back, but he caught himself and slashed as she rushed him. The Blade of Woe held back his strike, allowing her to slash with the Daedric blade. She barely missed as he craned himself away, but she kept up the offensive, coming in close as she pushed back against his sword, driving the dagger up into his diaphragm, where she could feel it sink through flesh and carve past bone. The man let out a pained grunt before she drew back and let him collapse.
"Vaermina, forgive me…" he begged as blood leaked from his mouth. Blake was about to turn back to help Erandur when a ball of ice came at her head. She let a clone from her Semblance take it and zeroed in on the Wood Elf cultist who had taken the shot, who was now backing away in fright. Blake dashed in, but sidestepped a blast of ice from the Bosmer and threw her dagger at him. It struck his neck, and then Blake felt something. A woman's war axe swung through her clone as Blake reappeared, surprising the woman but not enough to slip past her guard. She swung the weapon again and Blake caught it on the Blade of Woe while reaching towards her back. Her hand wrapped around the hilt of the Ebony Blade, but rather than pause she swung forward, slicing almost cleanly through the woman's waist. Her two halves fell, to the cultist's surprise, and Blake felt the life-force flowing into her in an intoxicating ecstasy.
"Her brother's return brings only ruin."
'Well, that's what happens when someone in your cult has a prick of conscience.' Seeing as Mephala and her Blade had nothing to say to that, she sheathed the blade while looking at the last cultist standing, who was now being beaten back by Erandur. Veren's face was bashed one way and then the other, his magic armor doing only so much to save him from the priest's blows. He finally fell onto his back, his grip on the Orcish mace faltering as he did. Still, he looked up at his former comrade with anger and seething hatred.
"How could you, Casimir…" The Dunmer shook violently a moment and then stilled. Erandur sighed and then hooked his mace to his side.
"It's time. The Skull must be destroyed," the priest said with finality. He walked up towards the dais where it lay, stopping just short of the reddish dome around it. "If you'll stand back, I'll perform the ritual granted to me by Lady Mara. First, an incantation to remove the barrier." He held out his arms, his palms upturned.
"I call upon you, Lady Mara." His arms then lowered. "The Skull hungers. It yearns for memories and leaves nightmares in its wake." He raised his hands up, with fists clenched towards the Skull. "Grant me the power to break through this barrier and send the Skull back to the depths of Oblivion!"
The barrier then faded away, leaving the Skull of Corruption and its pedestal bare to the world. As Erandur raised his hands and twinkles of light began to gather around them, a voice echoed out through Blake's ears.
"He's deceiving you."
'That…wasn't Mephala,' Blake quickly realized, not even bothering to look around for a source.
"When the ritual is complete, the Skull will be free and then Erandur will turn on you." Blake looked at the Dark Elf silently mouthing words to a prayer and then back at the Skull. "Quickly! Kill him now. Kill him and claim the Skull for your own! Vaermina commands you!"
With that, Blake couldn't help but break into laughter. Scared she might have distracted Erandur, she looked to see that his concentration was fully on his ritual. Blake looked up at the icon and crossed her arms as she smirked.
"You've got to be kidding me," she directed at the carving. "I have had the Goddess of Lies and Plots constantly whispering into my mind to try and convince me of every evil thing under the sun. Save your efforts for the next Era." Inigo and M'rissi were both looking at her strangely, but the echoes of Mephala's laughter started ringing out from what she could hear.
If Vaermina was livid, amused, annoyed, or whatever, Blake didn't know. Soon, the Skull began to wick away as purple flames seemed to consume it, signaling its sinking back into Oblivion. Once it was gone, Erandur ceased the ritual and let out a long sigh. As he turned to Blake with weary eyes, he pulled back his golden hood and rubbed his forehead.
"Forgive me if I don't appear relieved. This temple has taken its toll on me."
"Will you be all right?"
"In time, I believe I will." He looked up and rubbed his neck. "I'd constructed a meager shrine to Mara in the antechamber where we entered. My intention was to spend the rest of my years here, burying the past and praying for forgiveness. But instead, after we've taken care of those we've rescued here, I wish to offer my services to you."
Blake was taken aback by the proposal, but took it in stride and thought it over for a moment.
"Are you sure about this? You don't really know anything about us."
"Perhaps not much, but anyone who can resist the direct temptations of the Prince of Plots and say no to power personally offered by Vaermina is nothing short of a paragon in my eyes."
Blake laughed nervously at that while scratching behind an ear. "So you did hear me."
"Yes, but don't worry. I won't judge whatever past you may have, just as you decided not to judge me for mine. I may not know exactly what you're going through, but I believe I can help."
"Maybe you can." Blake took in a deep breath and let it go slowly. "Alright, but we should probably get everything out in the open before we do anything together."
"Such as one of you being a member of the Thieves' Guild?" he asked with a hint of amusement.
"Actually…"
"Still no sign of him?" Ruby asked Yang through their scrolls as she approached Whiterun. As she closed in on the city, she saw farmers across their harvested fields, preparing their homesteads for winter. Every so often, flakes of snow would drift down, only to melt almost as soon as they hit the ground. It wouldn't be long before that wouldn't happen, and the entire province would be covered in a blanket of snow.
"No." Yang shook her head regretfully. "I've been following his trail, but he had practically a whole day to get ahead of us. Even when we left Erevan to take all the cargo to Whiterun we only started making slight gains. It's like he knows exactly how long we're willing to go before stopping and he just goes the same amount."
"More vexing than that, he's taking the most bramble-covered, roughest of backroads," Weiss complained. "You'd think a nomadic monk would know the best roads to take to any given location."
"At the very least," Yang continued on, ignoring Weiss' complaints, "we know he didn't go to Whiterun or Dawnstar. He's just making a beeline to Dimhollow with minimal regard for shelter or food. Who does that?"
"A man with no sense of proper navigation, that's who," Weiss complained again. Like her sister, Ruby ignored her partner's complaints and pressed on.
"Okay. I hope you get to him in time. He's a good guy. He doesn't deserve getting eaten or dying in a booby trap." Ruby looked up and sighed. "Well, I'm about to face the music. Hopefully Delphine keeps her paranoia down this time around."
"Just be sure to hold your ground and ask questions," Yang reminded her younger sister. "Oh, how's the patch job holding up?"
"Pretty good, all things considered," Ruby answered before tugging at the white scales on her armor. Nahkrensos' scales were pretty much sitting around with only a couple being studied, so the College let the sisters pick through them for what they wanted. Yang packed up enough to make another suit and then some while fixing in a few on Ruby's current armor. The Dragonborn planned to have Eorlund give it a second look over just in case, mostly at Yang's behest, and then leave the large sack of scales she had with him. From what she heard, he had already bought the few Weiss sold after killing Mirmulnir, but it wasn't enough for more than a pair of boots, gauntlets, or a helm, and the bones had none of the skin needed for the inner layer of a suit.
"That's good. Maybe after another dragon or two we can just suit everyone up in dragon scale armor. Ooh, maybe we could use dragon bone?"
"Maybe." Ruby smiled at the familiar excited look that was on her sister's face for once. "Alright, I'm gonna let you go now. Guards are giving me sideways looks."
"They're more curious than anything," Lydia spoke up, which Yang shrugged off.
"Okay. You have a good one, sis. Love ya!"
"Love you too, Yang. You too, Weiss."
"You too. Wait, hol-" Ruby hung up and then snickered to herself before pocketing the device. After entering the city, she headed towards the Bannered Mare and zeroed in on a hooded figure in a corner seat. Slowly, she made her way over to the person as though she was sneaking carefully, but ended up tripping on a chair leg and tumbled forward. Luckily, years of calisthenics kicked in and she caught herself, rolled forward, and came up on her feet.
"Phew!" she sighed as Delphine put her fingers to her eyes and rubbed them. Ruby continued on as if her trip was completely intentional and smiled as she sat across from her. "Hi."
"Hello…Ruby. I trust you got my message."
"Yeah. So what's up? Or can we mention it here?"
"Upstairs." Ruby nodded and followed along. They went to one of the rooms near the back and Delphine checked the room on either side before entering it and barring the door. "Like I said, I've found a window to get into the Embassy. A contact of mine was able to slip me an invitation to a party happening a little more than a week from now, on Emperor's Day."
"Emperor's Day?" Ruby asked. She had heard the holiday mentioned before, but never what it was or about.
"The birthday of Uriel Septim VII. Tradition used to be that it changed to match the birthday of the current Emperor whenever a new one was crowned, but Titus I decided to keep it there in memory of the lost dynasty. The Thalmor are getting a lot of heat thanks to what people are calling the Magnus Event, and this seems to be them reaching out. Damage control, if you will. Elenwen herself is hosting the party, and security is going to be mostly focused on the section with the party-goers."
"So you're going to sneak in?"
"No. " Delphine shook her head. "They know who I am. If I tried to sneak in, I'd be caught in an instant. You're the one going who's going in."
For a long moment, Ruby's mind ran with the thought of her infiltrating a super-secret base by going through a bourgeoisie party like something out of Lakeside Ten. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Lydia clearing her throat.
"I'm afraid that's not going to work," the housecarl explained. "My Thane is about as stealthy as a hungry mammoth calf. No offense, Ruby."
"I…" A look of surprise crossed the Blade's face. "Then how are you hiding away from all those who want to kill you?"
"Who wants to kill me? I mean, the Dark Brotherhood kinda did, but then Blake killed all of them. Huh, now that I think about it, who paid them to do that?" Ruby though on it a moment and then shrugged. "But yeah, not that many people are gunning to kill me, and Lydia tends to take care of them."
Lydia shrugged while Delphine looked on in astonishment. Ruby then suddenly snapped her fingers.
"Of course! Blake can do it! She's pretty stealthy; she's the one who pulled that group Chameleon trick on you when we first met. She's basically a ninja and a cat."
"Your Khajiit friend?" Delphine hummed and rubbed her chin in thought. "Yes, that could work. I know for a fact that she worked against the Thalmor before, although whatever was going on suddenly stopped for some reason I haven't figured out."
"Oh, she killed the person after her friend," Ruby stated nonchalantly, again causing Delphine to look at her in surprise.
"Is your friend some sort of professional assassin?"
"Um, not really? She's just more geared for the stealthy approach than anything, and she's kinda been doing all of the wetwork we might need. Most of it goes back to the time the Dark Brotherhood tried to kill us. Last I checked, she got a lot of nobles in the holds arrested for using the Brotherhood's services, both in Imperial and Stormcloak hands."
"Still… Very well, how soon can we expect her?" the Blades member then looked about. "She's not in here, is she?"
"She's heading to Solitude, so I'll send her a message. The Embassy is a walk away from the city, right?"
"Higher up on Mount Kilkreath, but yes, it's a small hike away from Solitude. We actually have to go to Solitude for the next steps. We'll still need to infiltrate the party, so whoever's going needs to look the part."
"Oh boy, Taarie and Endarie are gonna have a field day." Ruby shuddered while Lydia smirked in anticipation.