Markarth was just as pale and beaten down as the day we left it. It'd only been a few months, but it somehow felt different. I never called the city home, but I now felt like I no longer belonged. People watched us warily as we walked through the streets and I uncomfortably shift my bag of loot, making sure it is secure. I pull back and let Vorstag take the lead.
We wind our way up the stone stair cases and cross the waterfall bridge to find Endon at his usual spot. The well-dressed redgaurd smiles wide when he sees us, his unnaturally white teeth shining brightly against his dark skin.
"Well, you two still managed to stay alive." He says with a greedy smile. "Come to get good rates for your…goods?"
Vorstag tosses the heavy bag to the ground and I do likewise. We rifle through and present the fence with the daedric equipment and a variety of gems.
"Nice pieces here." He says with genuine awe, holding up one of the demonic cuirasses. "Please don't tell me where they came from."
"We didn't steal them, Endon." I scoff, crossing my arms. "Just because we're dealing with you doesn't mean our goods are stolen." I wasn't about to let him think I'd become some petty thief.
"Yes, yes," he says, pulling out his large bag of gold and counting a fair amount of coins. "You're an adventurer, a hero in the making." His voice lacked sincerity.
I'm about to defend myself further when Vorstag jabs me in the ribs. I glare at him demanding to know what that was for. His look tells me to shut up.
After finishing the deal and acquiring a very decent amount of gold, Endon asks, "So where are you heading next, my sweet entrepreneur?"
"We'll tell you when we get there." Vorstag says with a tight smile, pulling his almost empty sack from the ground. Endon watches us like a hawk sizing up its prey.
"Odds you survive, don't forget me." He says with a single-minded smile. "You are quickly becoming very promising costumers. But if you really are out of work, I know old Klepper at the Silver-Blood Inn has rumors that could point you in your next direction."
"Thanks." I say with a curt nod. We then turn and descend down from the falls. When he is out of earshot, I begin my rant. "I can't stand that guy. You see how he treats me, and now us? In all the time I've known him he never, ever had something supportive to say. Always tells me to try not to die! Thanks, I'll take that advice into consideration."
"Calm down." Vorstag groans. "You do realize the guy doesn't have to even deal with us. We aren't part of that Thieves Guild. I think he genuinely is trying to help you."
"Well I don't want his charity." I snarl. "I want respect."
"Give it time." He says kindly. He doesn't see it, but I roll my eyes. Suddenly he stops and turns to face me. "How about we buy a celebratory drink?" I notice we're at the bottom of the stairs. The Silver-Blood Inn sign rattles above in the breeze.
"No." I say, crossing my arms. "That place is a shit-hole."
"Well, that shit-hole happens to be where we first met," he says loftily, "so it only seems fitting we celebrate there. And besides, it's not that bad."
"The beds are made of rock."
"Okay, you got me there," he says agreement, "But it really isn't that bad. Don't forget I roomed there for quite some time."
"Fine," I groan, slumping in defeat. For a second I think I see hurt in his face, but I realize it's just a small smile. He opens the door and we head inside.
XXX
"Well, if it isn't Vorstag. Out of work again?"
"Klepper." Vorstag says with a curt smile as we approach the bar.
"In need of a room?" The greasy Nord asks sarcastically. "I'd offer your usual, but it seems you have company."
"No!" Vorstag says quickly, face flashing red. "Um, no need I mean. My partner here and I are simply getting a drink. Uh, drinks." He slams some money, a little harder than necessary, onto to the wooden bar. Klepper grabs it up with an amused smile and produces two bottles of mead. As if it was a second thought, Vorstag drops a few more coins and adds, "And some honey-treats, if available."
"Thanks," I say grabbing my grub. I nibble greedily on the glazed dessert and quickly drink the mead. Sooner I'm done the sooner we can get out of here.
"So, Kelpper," Vorstag says airily, "Any new rumors floating around since I've been gone?" I give him a sideways glance, praying to the gods he's just making small talk.
"Oh, you haven't heard?" He says with surprise, lifting his brows high as he begins to scrub at the sticky table. "I'm surprised. It's all the town seems to be talking about. The Hall of the Dead is closed."
"What?" I spew, choking a bit. Looking to Vorstag, I ask. "Is that even legal?" I knew something like this would greatly upset the Nordic traditionalist.
His face is hard. "How come?" He demands quietly. "Who allowed this?"
"Let's just say Brother Verulus isn't the most popular man in town right now."
Vorstag gulps down the rest of his drink and pushes himself away from the table. "Come on, Saber." He says dangerously, stalking off to the door.
Klepper laughs, his high, phlegmy voice ringing in the stony inn. "Don't kill the poor boy! He's just a fledgling priest of Arkay, fresh from Cyrodiil. The god of death wouldn't look too kindly upon his ill-timed murder."
I look between the two Nords, glare at the gossipy steward as I gulp down the rest of my mead, and chase after my hot-headed partner.
XXX
"What the hell was that all about?" I yell at him when we get outside.
He whirls at me, jaw clenched and eyes sparking. "The imperials think they can do whatever they want concerning our religion. They think they can just denounce Talos and close our halls." He's fuming, but I don't back down. I shove my nose in his face.
"I know what you're thinking," I hiss slowly, "So drop the idea because we are leaving."
"Saber, my family is buried in that hall." He says evenly, trying to check his anger. He knows by now that the more he yells the more I dig my heels. "I'm not about to be told I can't see them by some soft skinned imperial."
Vorstag rarely speaks of his family, the matter being somewhat uneasy between us. I'm not sure what to say, afraid of offending him or bringing up our old problems. "Vorstag," I say carefully, "I understand why you're mad, but you weren't even planning on visiting them. And I'm sure it's closed for a good reason."
"That's not the point!" He says, backing away and breaking eye-contact.
"Then what is the point?"
"The whole concept of them telling me what I can and can't do!"
"Vorstag," I say with a sigh, "You're such a racist."
"What?" He barks, turning back to me. "You don't know what you're talking about. Those imperials came here and decided they could tell us what do, who to worship."
"Hmm," I say, slightly agitated, "just like the Nords did to the Forsworn."
"Stop it." He says, pointing at me. "Don't make this about you."
I rub the bridge of my nose, trying to force down my flaring anger. I remind myself our relationship is delicate, he's delicate, and I can't push on him to hard or it'll all break. "Look," I say after I've calmed the brewing storm. "I value our partnership more than my desire to get out of here. So I'll make a compromise. We go see this priest, see what's going on, and make things right. Then we leave. Okay?"
"Okay." He says, stifling his spontaneous rage. I let him lead the way to the hall, all the while trying to ignore a sinking feeling that tells me the compromise won't hold.
XXX
"What are you hiding, priest?"
"I'm not hiding anything. It's closed for a reason."
We just entered Understone Keep, the jarl's palace that is connected to the hall, and it appears we walked in on a heated argument between a golden robed priest and a steel armored soldier. The latter's hand is on his sword. I sigh dramatically as Vorstag quickens his pace forward, eager to join in. It seems I can't catch a break.
"Typical Imperial lies," the angry Nord growls. "First you take away Talos, now you're keeping us from seeing our honored dead? You and the Jarl will answer for any desecration of my ancestors' bodies."
"That's enough, Thongvor." The young priest says, folding his arms confidently. "We're done. Now please leave." The guards around shift menacingly. Thongvor glares at them, looks once more at the priest, thinks better of it, and takes his leave, all the while muttering curses under his breath.
The priest turns to us, shoulder's still tense from the fight and sighs, "If it's about the Hall of the Dead, no you can't go in there." His eyes grow wide as the waver over Vorstag's leering form. Apparently he is more menacing than Thongrov.
"Who says?" Vorstag growls, his ebony mail swirling with darkness. The priest flinches, but quickly regains his resolve. I can tell he's about to retort something that'll get his neck snapped so I quickly intervene.
"Um, what we mean is, why can't we go in?" I say quickly jumping in between the two angry men. The priest stumbles back, apparently registering my presence for the first time. I've gotten used to that. When you travel with a guy as big and scary as Vorstag, people tend to look over you.
His eyes rest on me, and suddenly his manner changes. "Oh! Forgive me," He says with an apologetic bow. "I seemed to have lost my manners after dealing with that brute. I am Brother Verulus." He raises his hooded head, his young, clean-shaven face shining brightly at me. "But—but I can't talk about it. Rest assured, the Jarl hears everyone's concerns. You and you're husband will be able to visit your dead soon enough."
"Oh!" I stammer, looking at the boiling Nord behind me, "Um we're not—no. He's my—we're just partners."
"Ah, I see." Verulus says with a warm smile, eyes locked on mine. "I am truly sorry about this mess. Is there anything else I can do to help? Perhaps arrange an audience for you with the Jarl?"
"Yeah!" Vorstag says, shouldering his way around me. "You can tell us what's going on or do I have to find out myself?"
Verulus's face grows into a cold sneer. "You Nords are always so forward. Break things first and ask questions later. If you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
I grab Vorstag's shoulder, digging my sharp nails so hard he can feel the pinch through the mail. "I'm sorry, Brother Verulus," I say to the priest. He smiles at the mention of his name. "What he meant was if we knew what the problem was maybe we could help. Right, partner?" I dig my finger nails harder and he winces, grunting yes. I then flash Verulus a happy smile trying to calm the tension.
His eyes waver between Vorstag and me. "Well, all right." He says, as if he's doing us a huge favor. "I was going to suggest the Jarl hire someone to sort this mess out, anyway." Oh no. This is not what I wanted to happen. I look to Vorstag, panic in my face. He smiles at me sarcastically as if saying I should have just let him beat in a few heads. I sigh inwardly and return Verulus's eager smile.
"What I'm about to tell you is…disturbing." He begins, fidgeting with his hands, eyes locked onto mine. "We've discovered that some of the dead have been…eaten. Flesh has been chewed off, bones were snapped to get at the marrow inside."
I feel my heart skip a beat. That is disturbing. "Could it be skeavers?" I suggest, looking at Vorstag mostly to break the priest's gaze. His expression is unreadable. "They've been known to live in the hall's."
"We haven't caught anything…or anyone…yet." Verulus says to me, his voice filled with fear. "It's like…it knows when I'm there." He pauses and looks at Vorstag for the first time in what seems like forever, and says, "If you can get to the bottom of this, the Priesthood of Arkay will reward you."
"Yeah, sure," Vorstag says quickly. "We'll both check it out."
"Oh," Verulus says, looking back at me. "Here, take my key, and be careful." I accept the key from his smooth hand and give him a curt smile.
"We'll take care of it in no time and be on our way." I say stepping backward.
"May I have your name, please?" He calls after us. "So I can inform the Jarl of course."
"Uh, I go by Saber," I say, then pointing to my partner, "He's Vorstag."
"Thank you, Saber!" Verulus says. "I pray to Arkay you solve this terrible crime."
I smile back at him awkwardly and quickly turn away, heading down the stairs to the giant, locked, dwarven door.
XXX
"I can't believe you let him treat you like that."
"Huh?" I ask, utterly confused. We have just unlocked the large door and shut it behind us. The stone groans as if it hadn't been used for a long time. The hall is disgusting, well, more disgusting than a hall full of dead bodies should be. Dust and dirt line everything, chairs and memorials are strewn about, and the coffins resting on the shelves are all cracked open. I dare to take a peak.
"Like you were some incapable girl that needed protection." He criticizes as he scans the dusty rooms. "You're stronger than he could ever be, so he should treat you like it."
"Oh, thanks." I say as I look the skeleton over. It's flesh is almost all gone, but the means of its disappearance do not look like decay. I shudder and pull away, heading toward another inlet with more tombs. "I guess I didn't notice. I was more concerned about you almost getting us thrown in jail." The coffins on this side are empty, but there's enough residue in them to suggest body recently occupied it.
"Oh, he wasn't going to throw you in jail." I hear him kick some debris out of his way more aggressively than required.
"Why do you even care?" I ask in a bored voice. "You sure didn't when Endon treated me like that."
"You can't tell me you didn't see what was going on." He complains loudly while opening more coffins across the hall.
I'm about to ask him what his problem is, when a soft, female voice interrupts my train of thought, echoing across the large stone hall.
"Not many would walk blindly into a crypt, smelling of steel and blood, but not fear."
I jump, knocking down a priceless jug left by one of the graves, and whirl to Vorstag. His sword is already out and he makes eye contact with me. He gestures for me to regroup. I rush over and stand at his back, flaring up sparks. My hands crackle with the lightning's energy, all the more powerful as my nerves rise.
"I feel the hunger inside of you. Gnawing at you. You see the dead and your mouth grows wet. Your stomach growls."
The voice moved, but the reverberations make it impossible to judge where it's coming from. I feel myself grow rigid at her words. "Vorstag," I whisper, "Any ideas?"
"Just that this is about to get very disturbing." He whispers back. "Show yourself!" He shouts, his voice mixing with her echo.
"It's alright. I will not shun what you are." She coos. "Stay. I will tell you everything you have forgotten."
A woman emerges from the shelves, standing beside us but out of sword's reach. We whirl at her, but she holds her hands up and gives us a hungry smile, like she knows something we don't. She is dressed plainly and has short, blonde hair. If it hadn't been for the blood smears on her face, the only thing unusual would have been her sudden appearance in the crypt.
"I'm not here to fight," she says kindly, a wide smile spreading across her round, bloody face. "Just to help you remember." She looks from me to him, then back to me. "My name is Eola. You were young when you first tasted human flesh, weren't you? A brother or sister had died?" She adds with a wink, "An, accident of course."
"What are you talking about?" I spit fearfully, the lighting sparking dangerously in my hands. "I don't know you, nor do I have any siblings!" This woman is insane.
"Shh…" she soothes, wiping her face as if she just remembered the blood. "It's okay, now. You've found a friend who understands you. You can let go of your guilt."
"We're not cannibals." Vorstag growls, turning the ebony blade in his hands. I can tell he's plotting in his head just when and where to strike.
Eola laughs softly and licks her fingers, dark brown eyes flashing up at him. "A lot of our kind block out the memory of their first meal. The shame is too much. But you don't need to hide anymore." She looks back to me and smiles as if she knows a secret I don't. "Namira, the Lady of Decay, accepts you for what you are. She has a place for us, where we can sate our appetites without judgment."
"Namira…" I say softly. I know that name. I heard it somewhere long ago. The memory hits me hard and I almost fall back. Namira is the Daedric Prince of all things revulting. She also happens to be the patron of cannibals.
"We want no part—!" Vorstag begins, raising his blade and stepping forward, but I jump in front of him.
"The Daedric Prince cares for us?" I say, emphasizing the words. Vorstag halts. I can feel his breath on my neck and his eyes boring into me. "Where is this place?"
"Inside Reachcliff Cave." Eola says merrily, swooning at the thought. She then grows rigid and stern. "But the dead have stirred from their slumber recently, and I was forced here. Meet me there and we shall fight our way to Namira's embrace together!"
Vorstag is about to respond but I cut him off once again. "We'll come." I say evenly, turning to look at him, begging him with my eyes to trust me. "It's time we stopped hiding what we are." He stares at me long, but finally grunts in agreement.
"Then it's settled." Eola says with a bloody smile. "Until then, tell the people of Markarth that their dead won't be disturbed, anymore. We have bigger plans ahead."
She then flashes in purple light and vanishes, her footsteps echoing throughout the halls as she runs away.