Arc 2—Chapter 6:

I'm not a fan of caves. Any time you need to find a specific one, it's like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. You have to find the right haystack before you can start looking for the needle. As I searched the next afternoon, that was exactly what I was thinking.

I was climbing what might have been a steep trail up into the mountains. On the other hand, with the snow on the ground and more falling as I climbed, it could also have been a natural swale so I moved slowly and carefully, trying to keep from slipping and tumbling down the mountainside.

If their guess was correct, the officials at the White Hall believed the old, unmarked cavern on the map was probably what Tolan had called Dimhollow Crypt.

"It doesn't appear on two other maps, Dragonborn, so we're not sure if it was a real cavern or just an errant mark on the map," Jod had explained. "Take it for what it's worth."

I'd shaken my head. "Well, it's the best lead I have. Can I see that map? And may I have another paper and borrow a quill?"

He frowned, questioningly, but gave me what I'd requested, along with an inkwell and duster. Putting the paper over the map, I marked it with lines that intersected that point and two other distant points to use in helping me locate it. From high in the mountains, it could be oriented on the landmarks and me get in the right vicinity.

That had been the morning theory. The afternoon exposed its flaws.

With low-hanging, dark clouds and continuing snowfall, the little triangle wasn't helping very much since I couldn't see 100 feet, much less miles away. While I love my homeland, our weather sometimes makes life difficult.

Finally reaching my fill, I quietly cleared my throat to use my Thu'um to clear the skies, but then stopped. A dragon shout would make a lot more noise and announce my presence to more potential enemies than my throat clearing. Therefore, my search continued in silence and gloom.

It was almost dark when I finally found the entrance to a cave, hidden by some snow-covered, cut spruce saplings. It was almost exactly where I thought it should be, but there had still been no sign of Tolan. Since I'd already passed by within yards of the entry at least two or three times, I could only think the Divines that Lydia wasn't with me to give me a hard time about missing it. Of course, if she had been, she might have seen it to help me avoid the problem in the first place. Thinking of her with Lucia and Idgrod in Morthal, I said a silent little prayer to the Nine Divines for all my ladies before I went inside.

~ESV~

On second thought, I dislike caves.

While I may admire the many varied and sometimes beautiful formations that my friend Calcelmo told me may have taken hundreds or even thousands of years to form, when I walk into a cavern, it's practically never with the intent to look at pretty rocks and scenery. Similar to crypts, tunnels, Dwemer ruins, and almost anything else that is formed in or cut into natural rock, I'm usually there to find, face, and eliminate trouble before that trouble can find and put an end to me, my friends, or my countrymen.

One of the biggest problems with caves is that, when there's no source of light, they are dark, blacker than the darkest night. When you close your eyes in the darkness, it sometimes seems lighter looking at the inside of your eyelids than the pitch of the cave itself. The shock of opening your eyes and finding yourself as if blind is also quite disorienting.

In this case, though, I was lucky to find a very dim light when I'd gone far enough that the light from outside could no longer help. Still, it took a little while for my eyes to adjust to the conditions. Luminescent lichens grew in places and strange glowing goop pooled in some low spots, giving off a dim light, making me wonder if that had something to do with the crypt's name. It wasn't enough, though, but I was spared from popping off a candelight spell by the braziers and torches that were scattered along in what would have otherwise been the darker areas of the passage. That answered my first question: the place was definitely occupied.

I moved ever-so-slowly through what appeared to have been a natural cave that showed marks of being partially hollowed out years, centuries, or even millennia before. I hadn't gone far when I heard voices coming from somewhere ahead, so I froze, my eyes straining to see people or movement or whatever I could in the relative darkness ahead. The voices faded without me being able to understand exactly what they said so I moved forward to what appeared to be a brighter area ahead.

The brightness turned out to be where the narrow passage opened up into a large cavern that was dimly lit similar to the passage through which I'd just traversed. Staying back in the relative shadow of the tunnel, I took in as much of the view of the cavern as I could.

It was large but not completely open. Several large columns stretched from cave floor to ceiling, blocking the view of parts of the space beyond. An underground stream fed into the cavern from one side, flowed a short distance, and then disappeared into another hole to exit that part of the cave.

On the opposite side of the cavern from me, there was some type of man-made wall with a window set near the top, almost like a tower in a fortified wall. I was just starting to look to the left to view the rest of the area when something much closer caught my eye.

It was the flickering light of one of the braziers that allowed me to see something hidden among the rocks just a few feet in front of me. Moving silently and using the shadows to my advantage, I moved forward to find that it was a dead body on the ground. Dressed in a strangely-configured leather and cloth armor, the body's facial features, teeth, and claw-like nails made me realize this was a vampire. Then I saw another body a few feet beyond.

As soon as I saw it, my mind said "No!" but my heart told me whose body that was. Low to the ground, I crept forward to confirm that it was indeed Tolan. I closed the dead Vigilant's eyes but had no time to do more since, across the cavern, someone wearing that same type of strange armor as the first body walked out of a side cave, looked around, and then continued into another cavern or room or something out of my sight.

Taking advantage of the moment, I slipped forward as much as I could, finding another dead vampire just a short distance beyond Tolan. "Thank, you, Mister Vigilant," I whispered back to the dead man. That's when I saw the side cavern with the iron portcullis. There was no immediately obvious way to open it but no opponents visible either, so my eyes quickly scanned the rest of the area. Again, I was lucky to see no one nearby.

With my only known opponent relatively far away, I switched to my bow, getting it strung just in time before the wandering vampire returned from wherever he'd gone.

It was pretty obvious that this guy wasn't expecting company, and I'm not sure, based on his movements, that all was right in his head. Or perhaps he had been a great dancer before he became a vampire. Whatever it was, he was moving gracefully, as if to music that no one else in the world could hear.

With no cover between us, I drew my bow, took careful aim, and let the shaft fly. As skilled as I'd become with my bow in recent months, I had no doubt that my arrow would slay the vampire before he had time to call out.

"Daddy? That's not fair, is it? Kristov said we should always fight fair, but if you shot the vampire before he even saw you, that doesn't seem fair, does it?"

I look at my little philosopher. "Aern, when you and your sister or Andres fight with your big brother—any of your big brothers, for that matter—I expect a fair fight. That means no biting, scratching, poking fingers or throwing things in the eyes, pulling hair, kicking or hitting when someone's down or yields, or anything like that. We've talked about that, right?"

All three nod in agreement, and say, "Yes, sir."

Looking at Aern, I ask, "When you're doing this, you guys aren't trying to kill each other, right?"

"No, Daddy. We just play like that so we can get stronger and learn how to fight better. And Andres and I almost pinned Kristov the other day."

"Is that how you got the bruise?"

"Ahem… yes, sir."

"Well, it's a really good one. You can be very proud of that bruise because it shows that you fought hard," I say, having now confirmed my earlier suspicions that Kristov had been the source of Aern's shiner. I mentally add having a talk with Kristov to my list of things to do. He knows he's not supposed to be too rough with the twins or Andres, though, in this case, I suspect he may have just been defending himself.

"Now, same thing I just said goes if you're fighting with one of your friends. However, if someone attacks you for real, even, when you get older, if it's someone you thought was your friend, you have to fight as if your life depends on it, with every ounce of strength you've got and with every resource at your disposal, whether it's your teeth or fingernails or dirt, rocks, boulders, knives, axes, swords, spears...or, ah, frying pans—"

The kids laugh.

"—or…well, whatever else you can get your hands on. When you're fighting for real, if you don't do everything you possibly can to stay alive, you probably won't. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. That's the situation here. In this case, while it might not have been this particular vampire, the vampires had attacked and killed my friends and any number of other people. They'd shown they were out to kill people, so they'd effectively declared war on all peoples of Skyrim. They'd also killed Vigilant Tolan, just a few feet away from where I was hiding. Therefore, it was a situation where they'd already given up any right to a 'fair' fight. In this case, I had to kill them before they killed me, and every one I could pick off before I ran into a group of them increased my chance of surviving. That's why, when I let that arrow fly, it was as fair as fair could be. Make sense now?"

All three children nod but then all cry out when I say, "Of course, what wasn't fair was when that arrow missed."

Between my own improving archery skills, as exhibited at Fort Dawnguard, and Lydia's now legendary shot with the dragon, I'd actually grown quite comfortable in expecting arrows to hit their target. Of course, my expectations were somewhat tainted by the facts that, while I didn't always hit the bullseye, I always hit the straw target, and, in Lydia's case, her miracle shot was a result of missing what she'd actually been aiming for. Straw targets are wider than most people, and a missed shot is usually just that, a missed shot.

Vampires aren't straw targets either. They move, and often move quickly. In this case, I was surprised when the dancing vampire did a strange, almost pirouette-like move and the arrow sailed right by him. I cringed and was ready to charge forward to try to end him before he could raise the alarm, but the arrow flew right into that side passage next to the stone building. The vampire may have heard the arrow fly by him—he glanced around, but saw nothing—but heard the clatter in that hall, presumably when the arrow hit a wall, right afterward. He moved that way to investigate.

I was up and moving as quickly and quietly as I could, trying to close the distance while he was out of the main cavern. I got to the sidewall next to the entrance just a second before she, it turned out, walked out, having apparently found nothing.

Bloodthorn, as sharp as Lydia's favorite straight razor, found her before she could cry out. I'd killed the first vampire in my crusade to avenge my friends and put an end to the threat the fiends posed to Skyrim. There was still a very long way to go.

~ESV~

Okay, I'll admit it: I hate caves.

As if the darkness isn't bad enough, there are often strange noises like wind moaning, whistling, or howling through the place, dripping water, tumbling water, little creatures scurrying, and no telling what other causes. These often give caves an almost spooky type of feeling, but they sometimes can be useful, such as covering up other sounds like my fight with another vampire just a couple of minutes after I'd killed the first one.

The side corridor went to a small room but it also had a side branch with steps up into the stone tower-like structure. The masonry work looked ancient, with large gaps between roughly carved stones. I wouldn't mention it but I saw the nock end of my missing arrow in one of these gaps, where the arrow had sailed into the crack and gotten lodged. A little tug didn't free it, so it's probably still there to this day.

Moving as quietly as possible with Bloodthorn in my hand and my shield held ready to be raised in front of me, I was almost to the top of the steps when a horrid-looking man stepped to the top of the stairs as if he was about to go down. Dried blood stained his chin on both sides of his mouth and his eyes were narrow slits; his tongue was running over his lips, as if trying to savor the blood on them that had already been wiped away. He was carrying something in his hand that was holding his attention, distracting him, so he barely glanced up on sensing my presence, saying a name that may have belonged to the vampire I'd just slain.

The huge black hound next to him, on the other hand, wasn't distracted in the least. I couldn't hear the name the vampire said because the dog snarled and tensed to jump at me even as I slashed forward with my dagger, killing the beast with a well placed blow to its throat. A spray of blood coated Bloodthorn and my gauntlet.

This gave the surprised vampire just enough time to overcome any advantage my initial surprise might have offered. He roared at me, baring fangs, and slashed forward with a clawed hand as he drew a hand axe from his belt. It came around in a flash.

The impact of the axe on my ebony shield caused a great clatter, as did the vampire's second roar as Bloodthorn sliced through his armor but not quite deep enough to cut him.

"I will kill you, pitiful human," he threatened menacingly as he raked his clawed fingers toward me, but that was not to be. Between my armor, my shield, my blade, and my determination, he didn't have a chance.

A few moments later, I was looking out the observation window near the top of the tower, trying to see if anyone had heard our battle, if anyone was coming to assist him. My bow was drawn as I searched for any targets that might be approaching, trying to ignore the whole time the presence of a big pull chain next to the window.

After a few seconds without seeing anyone coming running, I let off on the tension on the string, but, still, I watched, finally concluding that the configuration and build of the tower must have muffled the sound or that any sounds that might have carried must have been somewhat similar to all of those other sounds I'd been hearing earlier.

Try as I might, I couldn't tell what the chain operated, but I hoped it operated a counterweight for the portcullis instead of an alarm bell. Holding my breath in anticipation, I reached up and pulled it.

~ESV~

With the portcullis open, I made my way through the cave, moving slowly and quietly. A few vampires and other undead creatures fell to my blade or my arrows along the way.

Things went well until I noted lights being extinguished in a room at the end of passage. Despite my muffling skill, perhaps I hadn't been as quiet as I believed.

That left a dilemma. If one creeps into a dark, defended place, the one entering and the defenders inside may be on nearly equal footing; they can't see each other, but those in the space probably know it better and can have traps set for the unsuspecting. Some creatures even have the ability to see in the dark.

One the other hand, if one walks into that same dark place holding a torch, carrying a candle, or being accompanied by a candlelight spell, the light serves to draw attention to the person carrying it and may only light up a small part of the space. This makes the person a perfect target; anyone further away, outside the area lit by the light, can see the person entering and fire away with missile weapons without being seen. Spells can be effective in many cases, too, though many may expose the original location of the caster.

Therefore, I decided it was best to use neither option. With my bow out, I would fire a magelight spell well into the room, possibly temporarily blinding or at least distracting those inside, allowing me to slip in and see the situation before the fight began. With luck, I would be mistaken about the lights being put out and the room would just be empty, and if not, I could use my bow to eliminate some of the bad guys before they could close the distance.

Concentrating on the chosen spell, I said the words, made the motions, and then used the command for my magicka to power the spell.

Nothing happened.

Deep underground in a cavern practically swarming with vampires, I couldn't make the spell work. Frustration and fear swept over me. How could I complete my mission if even simple tasks were beyond my ability? First the arrow and now a spell that I was depending on? What else could—?

No! I told myself. No doubts! Concentrate! I'd worked hard to learn the bow, and harder still to learn my spells. In fact...

Yes, I'd had a lot of problems learning my spells. I'm a Nord, after all, and we aren't really supposed to be good at magic. That's almost an unwritten rule at the College in Winterhold, but, after finally accepting that magic was part of me, despite my heritage, I worked hard to succeed and to prove that old saw wrong. With great effort, I'd learned new spells. After that, though, I would almost always forget some part that would cause my spell to fail. It was a struggle, as spell after spell failed.

I finally solved the problem while demonstrating my magical ineptitude to my daughter. Or rather, Lucia solved it for me.

As her candle slowly burned down one evening, she watched me, through any number of giggles, struggle for many minutes to cast the candlelight spell. The motions, the words, and the finger snap at the end to give it magicka power were repeated over and over. Seriously, I don't know how many times I tried, but each effort would see my little candlelight flicker once and die. Knowing that the candle had only moments left before it burned out, I finally gave one last, desperate effort and the candlelight spell took hold.

"You did it, Pa! You lit it!" she exclaimed. I was almost exhausted from the effort, but I was surprised when Lucia said the words she'd just heard so many times, traced the motions, and snapped her fingers just as I'd tried each time. Her room was immediately bathed in another light and my mouth fell open.

While most of the professors, some of whom are my dear friends, at the College will tell you that "one simply cannot learn a magical spell without using a spell book," Nord parents have long taught at least some of their children how to cast the healing cantrip without having anything written down. It takes some of us many tries (as my father would attest, if he still lived) and some can never learn it at all without one of the spell books the mages advocate (and which they will sell you for the right price), but some seem to pick up on it relatively easily.

Lucia had been one of those. She had learned the little healing spell in only a few tries and been on her way out to play well before lunchtime. Now, she'd learned the candlelight spell from just watching me, even though I'd done the entire spell correctly only one time. Maybe it had to do with her late mother's Imperial blood, but she'd memorized my every motion and every word and put them together correctly. Thinking perhaps it was a fluke, I asked her to do it again. After she'd repeated the casting three more times in a row, I was convinced that she had it. This time, she asked me to go outside to play hide-n-seek with her and her friends.

After that, we continued to work together on our spells and I was excited about the possibility of teaching her others, but my own magical inability put an end to that plan. I was completely unable to teach her another spell since I couldn't get any of the ones I'd supposedly learned to work. Frustrated, I finally visited Farengar, the court wizard at Dragonsreach, and purchased a couple of other novice level spell tomes for her. She learned them quickly on using the books, and then set out to help me with the parts I'd apparently forgotten since learning them in Winterhold.

In the days that followed, Lucia would, from time to time, ask for a few coins as an "allowance." I assumed it was for candy, treats, or such, but Lydia had only laughed when, concerned that I might be making her fat, I mentioned that.

"Thane, my Thane, poor deluded soul. Your really don't know?"

"Know? Know what?"

"Thane, she's been using that money to buy her own magic books from Farengar. She knows more spells than you by now."

On learning this, I upped her allowance without letting on that I knew what she was doing, bought her a power ring and necklace to increase her magicka, and was soon practicing more advanced spells with her.

A smile crossed my face as I thought of my daughter casting her spells and something clicked in my concentration. Aiming high so it would go well into the room or hit a far wall up high, I cast the magelight spell. A little light coalesced near my fingertips and then shot into the room. I didn't wait to see the result, instead casting another to the right and then one to the left in a matter of seconds. Then, I stepped near the entrance with my bow drawn.

~ESV~

The boys hang on every word as I briefly describe the battle with the skeleton warriors that waited for me in the cavern with and their vampire leader, but Aerica looks quite skeptical.

"Daddy, how do skeleton warriors work? Why don't they just fall apart? And if they're skeletons, where are their brains? You said they responded to what you did, so they must have had at least a little brains, right?"

My response of "They're undead creatures created by magic" doesn't quite placate her, but I continue reading the story, hoping I don't have to prove my ignorance any further on the subject. Not wanting to give the kids nightmares, I had deliberately left out of my writing my recollection of the vampires torturing and finally killing the Vigilant named Adalvald before I could intervene. His death haunted me for a while but I finally accepted that there was nothing that I or anyone else could have done to save him, try as we might.

I continue by reading a somewhat sanitized version of my battle with the vampires. They hear of the fight and how I ultimately killed the evil creatures without learning how close I myself came to dying in the process.

~ESV~

Finding no other enemies around me, I finally had time to study the situation and read some notes I found in the cavern.

I was on a circular island in the middle of a subterranean lake. If it was natural, it had been heavily modified with vertical sides, a flat floor with strange patterns and grooves, and two rings of arches. There were several brazier-like objects centered in the grooves in several locations, but none were lit. However, the most interesting object was in the very center of the island.

A small, five-sided pedestal about waist high stood there as if asking to be noticed, with a little dome a few inches high with a flat circle on top. It looked like a button to me, but I was hesitant, unsure, since the vampires apparently hadn't checked it. I took a breath and, with one finger, pushed down on the edge of the circle, but it didn't budge, nor did it with two or even three. I was about to give up, accepting that it was just a decoration, but suddenly decided to use my palm to push down with force.

A sharp pain stabbed through my hand. A sharply-pointed spike, covered in my blood, was retracting into the pedestal. I was about to strike it with my sword, in hopes of bending it over so it couldn't retract, but purplish flames in one of the braziers attracted my attention. Perhaps human blood had been the missing element and the reason the vampires couldn't open it?

The braziers being moved in the grooves on the floor acted as a key, of sorts. When the last was in the correct spot, there was a grating noise and the floor started dropping away. I backed away as a bluish-gray cube was slowly revealed to be more rectangular instead of square on its vertical side.

The floor stopped dropping when it had formed a circular, amphitheater type bowl and the stone box was about 7-feet tall. I approached the box with care and then walked all around it. Someone had gone to a great deal of effort to build this elaborate vault. It had to be where the vampires' ancient relic was stored. On seeing an embedded latch on one side, I activated it and stepped to the side in case it was also booby-trapped.

It was a quiet rumble as two of the four sides of the box started moving downward to reveal the artifact, but as it did, my expectations completely changed. It wasn't an ancient weapon, a powerful staff, a huge gemstone or a piece of fancy jewelry, or even a suit of armor in that stone vault. Instead, it was a beautiful young woman, dressed in quaint clothes that might have been pictured in an old book of fairy tales, who collapsed onto the ground before me.

~ESV~

Author's Note: Thanks for reading this story. Two chapters remain in this arc, and then I'll be taking a break from it for a little while to catch up on some other writing and to see if there's interest in the third arc.

In the meantime, for a preview of my up-coming Skyrim story focused on a completely different cast of characters, please check out

ESV—For Want of a "B"

In this new story, young Hoenreid Battle-worn, distant but disgraced and unclaimed cousin to the famous clan, wants nothing more than to earn atonement for his father's misdeeds and win back the "B" in his name. Events in the town of Helgen lead to an unexpected opportunity to do just that...if he can keep up!

fanfiction dot net/s/13005020/1/ESV-For-Want-of-a-B