She knew she should be excited, should be looking to the horizon with an adventurous gaze, but Dalthe could do be neither of these as she once again heaved over the side of the ship. The ship's crew chuckled the first few times but now they just felt sorry for her. Dalthe had never before traveled this far by boat, or for that matter been on many boats, so she was having a hard time adapting. As Dalthe stood at the side of the ship gripping the railing and staring down into the dark waves below, the captain walked to her.
Gjalund pat her back in a reassuring gesture. "Should be there within the day. You and your lovely land will be together again soon," he joked.
Dalthe didn't look up merely putting her thumb up in response. She was smiling slightly from his comment though.
Gjalund nodded at Dalthe and chuckled. "Funny to see hardened warriors turn as you do, but it's more common than you'd think. Most people don't do well out to sea." He pat her back once more. "Take care over here, I've gotta get back to directing my crew."
Dalthe heaved a heavy breath. "Y-yep," she said shakily, going back to gripping the railing furiously. First thing when going back to Skyrim, find potion that fights sea sickness then drink furiously, she thought miserably.
It took a few more hours, but just as the Captain had said shore came into sight. Dalthe had never been so happy to see land. She stood shakily at the bow of the ship, leaning forward as the land came into focus. The ship pulled into dock and Dalthe was the first one off the ship. She hadn't brought much with her except coin, armor, weapons and usual survival essentials. "OH LAND! SWEET LAND," she yelled, laying face first on the ground once she felt in under her feet.
The crew of the Northern Maiden burst into laughter at that. "Never seen someone do that," someone commented offhandedly. There were murmurs of agreement.
When Dalthe got her fill of the ground, she stood and decided to look around. The first thing she noticed was high walls off surrounding the place, the large manor made of thick stones and many smaller buildings that looked like they came off the backs of a chaurus. In her fascination, Dalthe ran into a man. She looked at him slightly startled, then grinned as she eyed him. There were a few people here dress like him, in a strange golden armor.
The dunmer guard before her frowned, brows furrowed in disdain. "Oh great another outsider," he drawled, crossing his arms. "Just what we need."
"Good to know I'm wanted," Dalthe commented, not at all perturbed by his words. "So who's and what's there to do around here?"
The dunmer paused. His eyes narrowed at her suspiciously, but there was nothing he could do to her, yet. The thought amused him dryly, though his face stayed passive as it was. "Modyn Veleth leads the city guard. You'll find him usually in the Bulwark or patrolling the city. It shouldn't be hard to find him, it isn't a big city," The guard explained, pointing out the areas as he spoke. "And head of the town is First Councillor Morvayn. Usually in his home or at the Retching Netch, the tavern over there." He pointed out one of the short chitinous looking buildings just down the road. "You'll find the smith across the street from that and the mine just down the road. Mind you, the mine is closed so don't go towards it."
Dalthe nodded and crossed her arms, eyes following his movements to each of the spaces. That's when Dalthe noticed the strange green light down by the shore. It looked to be coming from an outcropping of stones and archways. "What's that over there," she asked, pointing at it.
The guard followed her gaze and frowned. "That is... I know it...," he turned back to her looking thorough put off. "It is a shrine, but I don't know what for."
Curious, Dalthe headed off towards the shrine at a sprint. "Thanks for your help," she said loudly to the dunmer.
At the shrine, Dalthe felt a light thrumming in her bones. It felt like something, some power was pulling her towards the shrine. More intent to find out what it was, she looked over the strange outcropping. In the middle was a tall, thin stone surrounded by shallow water and all around it there were people building up arches to surround it. Dalthe tapped one of the workers on the shoulder, intent on getting some answers, but they didn't answer. For a fact, all the people working on the project looked as if they were in a trance, repeating the same words over and over again. Something about... "Here in his shrine that they have forgotten." Who was he?
Dalthe shifted her stance, shaking out her limbs. The ringing thrumming in her bones had intensified and it made her want to touch the stone. With her fingers merely inches from the stone, she was halted by someone calling out to her. Coming back to her senses, Dalthe turned to see a dunmer standing back from the shrine looking at her. She stepped away from the shrine, feet splashing in the shallow water before she came back onto the dirt road.
"Yes, You there... You don't seem to be in quite the same state as the others here. Very interesting," the dunmer commented.
Dalthe looked over the man. His face was sharp lines with high cheekbones. He had a long well kept goatee with only stubbly hair atop his head and dark red eyes while wearing decorated robes in copper tones with a subdued colored scarf over his light grey skin. He is eyeing Dalthe curiously as if she were an interesting new insect for a collection. "What are they doing here," Dalthe asked, getting the attention off of her. She chanced a glance back a the stone. She still felt that pull, but not as sharply now that she was engaged with this man.
"I'm not so sure myself, but I find it terribly interesting to see," he said, surveying the shrine with an acute gaze.
"You're not going to try to stop them," Dalthe frowned. She placed her hands on her hips. "That doesn't seem like a good thing."
"I've no idea how to stop them, as I've gone to quite a length to shield myself from the stone's effects. I don't know which charm it is that is protecting me, but I shall figure that out soon," the elf replied, pursing his ever frowning lips. "Plus, I would like to see what happens when it is finished."
Dalthe surveyed the people working on the shrine. It went from common folk to even the guards in their peculiar armor. Dalthe felt uneasy the more she looked at it, though the pull in her bones felt strangely homely and that unsettled her more than anything else. Then it crossed her mind, "Who is Miraak," she questioned, gazing at the elf. He stood just below her in height she noticed, though she wasn't that tall for a Nord. "I'm looking for him."
"Miraak.. Miraak... It sounds familiar but I can't quite place," his face twisted up in consternation, then went lax. He snapped his fingers. "Ah yes. I recall, but that makes very little sense. Hmm. Miraak's been dead for thousands of years."
Dalthe tapped her chin. "And that means what exactly?"
The dunmer chuckled. "I'm not sure, but it is fascinating, isn't it. Perhaps it has relation to what's going on here," he swiped his hand towards the shrine. "Quite unexpected. I'm afraid I can't give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak's towards the center of the island. If I were you, I'd look there."
"Thank you. Who are you by the way? So I don't forget," Dalthe asked, pausing before taking off.
"I am Neloth. I usually prefer to stay home and conduct my research in peace. It's much more convenient that way," Neloth responded, scrutinizing the structure once more.
"The names Dalthe," Dalthe replied automatically. "Thanks for the tip Neloth." Then she was off.
Dalthe stopped in at the Retching Netch, unsure where else to buy some supplies. Upon entering, the air felt warmer and much more inviting, though the inside was not at all what she expected. At the far end of the room was a raging fire, though just before it was a wide staircase leading down into what appeared to be the rest of the building. Dalthe hadn't expected it to be underground, and she was nearly jumping with anticipation to see what the rest of the city was like. She looked around at the few people that were sitting on this level. A dunmer to the left with a spike of hair looked absolutely miserable and kept glancing between the orc across the way and the floor. The orc in looked prudish in his upper-class clothing as he looked on some papers with a personal guard standing just off to the side.
There were so many dunmer, Dalthe thought. The only place she'd seen this many dunmer had been in Windhelm in the Grey Quarter and that was a wretched place. The only other person on this level was a man in chitinous looking armor who had been watching her since she walked in. She couldn't see the man's face behind his helmet and goggles and that made her curious. That curiosity could wait though as she went down and bought some supplies from the innkeeper and room to stay for the night. Dalthe stayed up a while to talk with the locals. Resting to regain herself fully from being on the sea for a week and a half was a much needed, at least for the evening.
After getting some rations and having a nice fill of alcohol, Dalthe crashed into her rented room. She unhooked and dropped her gear to the floor before plopping onto the wooden bed covered in furs. It didn't take long before she was dead to world for the evening.
Dalthe woke groggily to a knocking on the door. It took a moment as she looked around to remember where she was, oh yeah, the tavern in Solstheim. "..nnn... Come in," she said louder than necessary, voice laced with sleep.
The door to the rented room opened quietly. That interesting man from the night before entered, shutting the door just as quietly behind him. Dalthe rubbed the sleep in her eyes, unsure as to why this man was in here. Had she done something yesterday maybe? When did she talk to him...
"You look confused," the man stated, his voice was deep but also gravelly like it was a fine sandpaper. "I came in here to see if we were off today. You hired me last night, though you appeared to be out of your wits, drunk."
Realization hit Dalthe making her nod in understanding. "Right, right," she groaned, stretching out her tired muscles. She kicked off the covers, leaving her in just her unders. Dalthe stood up and stretched unabashedly.
"Quite the traveler aren't you," the covered man commented, looking over her.
Dalhe grinned. "I live for the battle and the days as they come," she stated. She looked at the ground, at her stuff strewn about everywhere. "So since I don't actually remember a damn thing, what's your name?"
"Teldryn Sero, best mercenary you'll find on Solstheim," the man said. He took a seat at the small table in the corner of the room, continuing to watch his new patron with interest. "Last night you said something about finding a man named Miraak. About people being sent to kill you in, ah yes, Skyrim was it? What is that all about?"
"Oh, I said that," Dalthe asked. She was busy pulling on individual clothes and leathers and buckling to look up at Teldryn. "Yeah, these weirdly dressed people came and tried to kill me. Calling me blasphemous and a fake dragonborn, but that's what I'm here for. I'd never heard of Solstheim before that, so this will work out for all parties if this goes right."
"So where are we headed," Teldryn asked, tilting his head.
"To some temple in the mountains," Dalthe nodded, tying the last buckle into place. "Do you have a map?
Dalthe coughed as ash from the air went into her lungs. "How do you stand this stuff," she hacked, arm covering her face as she and Teldryn trudged through knee-deep ash covered snow.
"You get used to living in it after you live here for so long," Teldryn said. Dalthe could hear the grin in his voice. "Plus the mask helps."
"I'll have to invest in one of those soon." Dalthe looked ahead. The temple was visible in the distance. "There it is!"
"There it is," Teldryn stated, chuckling. "You are very animated. It is refreshing."
"Thank you. I do live to please," Dalthe laughed, stopping and turning to Teldryn. She gave him a mocking bow. "My lord."
Teldryn cackled. "Don't ever say that again," he rasped. "I quite like my status now, thank you. Hehe."
Dalthe grinned and continued on, moving at a more up beat pace, though not much faster as the snow was still to her knees.
After lots of trudging, the two finally reached the steps at the bottle of the monstrously large temple. Dalthe let out a low whistle. "It's alot bigger than I thought it'd be, all things considering."
"That what you tell all your bed partners," Teldryn joked.
"Only the really good ones," Dalthe said, wiggling her eyebrows at the dunmer.
Teldryn nearly choked on his laughter. "I'll give you that one." He then surveyed the area.
The stairs ran up a ways and there were large archways across the tops every dozen or so steps. The arches met in jutting spikes at the top and continued down to large stone black stone bases. At a few of these bases stood more people from around Solstheim, either mining, placing stones or worshiping the grounds of these pillars. "They seem to be like those people back in Ravenrock around that eerie stone," Teldryn commented dryly.
"Well.. There's only one way to find out what's going on here," Dalthe said and started to ascend the steps.