Cura and Lydia had just entered the Hall of the Vigilant, and saw Vigilant Tolan sitting on one of the lunch benches. He waved to Cura. Her face lifted as she saw her old trainer.
"Heh, if you were an Argonian, I bet we'd have to change your name to Back-From-The-Dead." He joked.
Cura rolled her eyes. "It's nice to see you too, Vigilant Tolan."
"The Keeper's been expecting you." Tolan informed.
Cura looked around to find Carcette, but she was nowhere to be found.
"Where is she?" Cura asked, becoming a little concerned.
"She's in Dawnstar." Tolan informed. "Apparently, she was told of a rumour about a Mythic Dawn museum opening up in Town. She's doing the right thing; she's going to burn it to the ground, I'm sure."
"M-Mythic Dawn..." Cura recognized the name. They were the shadow organization responsible for opening Gates to Oblivion centuries ago, and laid the cause for the Vigil to exist.
Makes sense that someone would open a Museum on the Mythic Dawn in "Dawnstar".
In that moment, the front door was thrown open, and an Imperial man was tossed inside by three different Vigilants, battered and bruised from countless blunt weapon clubbings. One of the men kicked him. "Get up, you Swine!" he commanded, and one of the others dragged him back onto his feet and pulled him all the way to the shrine at the end of the Hall. Cura stepped to the side.
Carcette closed the door, and headed up the aisle, her face as stern as ever, A wild and cold anger brewed behind her blue eyes as the Keeper wiped some blood off her cheek. A fresh cut.
Cura felt chills. The Keeper took a glance at her and nodded before returning her attention to the Imperial man. "Cura, this is a member of the Mythic Dawn... or at the very least, he is dressed like it." She turned to the accosted. "Silus Vesuius."
"I-I'm not!" Silus shouted in denial. "Release me at once!"
"Is that not a uniform of the Mythic Dawn?" Carcette gestured towards his raiment; crimson red with the depiction of golden sun waves on its cowl.
Silus scoffed. "These robes were worn during the Mythic Dawn's secret meetings, where they plotted to bring the Daedra Mehrunes Dagon into Tamriel. Each bolt of yarn used to make the robe was colored with a dye made from sacrificial blood." His voice sung with a sadistic sentiment as he explained.
"The Mercy of Stendarr does not extend to Daedra worshippers." Keeper Carcette explained.
"I am merely a museum owner!" Silus said, spitting blood. "Wrong or right, the Mythic Dawn changed Tamriel's history. They deserve study."
"They deserve erasure." One of the Vigilants said, as he grabbed Silus' head and pushed it down, forcing him into a bowing position as the man remained on his knees.
"My family were in the Mythic Dawn. My museum is our legacy." Silus spoke in defense. "I won't close my Museum because small-minded Dogs like you refuse to move forward."
"Small-minded Dogs, are we?" Carcette crossed her arms. "Your family nearly destroyed the world we inhabit. Were it not for the Hero of Kvatch, and for the Emperor's sacrifice, all of Tamriel would be a smoldering ruin."
Cura walked closer, but Carcette pushed her back a little, protectively.
"Our organization was founded in response to what your family did." Carcette continued. "Our Province is currently dealing with an issue of Dragons, and now you want to bring Daedra into it?"
"I've already told you, you stupid wench!" Silus shouted. "I only seek to display History! I've no dealing with any Daedra!"
"Scum!" Carcette struck him across the face with a well-planted fist. "Do not lie to me!"
The Hall rung silent as Silus whimpered. He slowly lifted himself back up from the floor, bruised and tattered.
"You have pieces of Mehrune's Razor." Keeper Carcette snarled. "Where have you hidden them?" She grabbed Silus by his chin and forced him to look into her eyes.
"In your hole." Silus said with a condescending smirk, which prompted the Keeper to throw him down to the floor.
"'When I walk the earth again, the faithful among you shall receive your reward. To be set above all other mortals, forever. As for the rest, the weak shall be winnowed, the timid shall be cast down, the mighty shall tremble at my feet and pray for pardon.'" Silus Vesuius spoke.
"...What...?" Cura was confused by his speech, when Brother Adalvald entered the room.
"The Mysterium Xarxes." Adalvald stated. "Keeper, he mocks us all. The Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes were written by the Mythic Dawn cult leader, Mankar Camoran. He promised a paradise awaited his followers when they died, that they would be reborn at Mehrunes Dagon's side."
Cura could not describe the hollow, fearful feeling she felt in her stomach. Perhaps the world had faced worse than the Dragons before.
Keeper Carcette was unimpressed. She instead turned to the others. "If we kill him here, we can end this issue."
"But... wouldn't you want to get the Razor?" Cura asked. "It would be good to have it in our possession so we could keep it out of the wrong hands."
"Cura." Brother Adalvald shook his head. "I agree; we should find out where it's hidden, but we must slay this man. He is dangerous."
Cura looked at the sniveling Silus. "He's dangerous?" The Breton stared at him in disbelief. The man was pathetic, not dangerous. He was probably just the kind of fool to fawn over his family's dealings, blissfully unaware of how evil they truly were.
"The Razor is Mehrunes Dagon's personal artifact. It has always heralded bloody change and carnage. It's held many names: Dagger of the Final Wounds, Bane of the Righteous, the Kingslayer. The Mythic Dawn worshipped Dagon as a god. Having his Razor would be invaluable to my collection." Silus said, as he tried to regain his composure amidst the baneful glares. "I only have the Scabbard. Not the full blade. If I had, well, I wouldn't be sitting in this filthy sinkhole, being interrogated by a bunch of lunatics right now!" He spat blood at Carcette disrespectfully.
"Throw him downstairs and tie him up." Carcette instructed. She then turned to Vigilant Tolan, who seemed to watch from afar. "Tolan. Do whatever you want to him."
A sinister grin formed on Vigilant Tolan's face as he stood up from his bench. He cracked his knuckles. "It would be my pleasure, Keeper!"
He followed the other Vigilants as they dragged the kicking and protesting Imperial down the stairs.
Cura watched silently, and Keeper Carcette finally took the opportunity to heal her wounds. "Much better." She approached the younger Breton. "My Cura! How did it go, with the Jarl?"
"Oh! Er, yes..." Cura began. "He's agreed to allow entry through the Hold, and Eorlund Gray-Mane, their blacksmith, is willing to craft weapons for us."
"I've heard of him." Carcette mused. "Hm... I'd be careful associating with him beyond business matters. I hear that his family are staunch Stormcloak-supporters."
"They are." Lydia stated. "Especially after their son was captured by the Thalmor."
Cura's back stiffened. She hoped Lydia wouldn't speak of their involvement in his rescue.
"Yes, I know..." Keeper Carcette narrowed her eyes. "that's another thing I want to talk about. Cura." She turned to the younger Breton.
"Y-yes?" Cura asked.
"I received a letter from the Thalmor Embassy. They want confirmation for the arrival of a Thorald Gray-Mane into our custody. Do you know anything about that?" She glared at Cura, clearly knowing the answer before the nerve bundle could open her mouth.
"I..." Cura was hesitant to speak.
"You got him out of Northwatch Keep and lied to the Thalmor, effectively releasing a Stormcloak soldier and involving yourself in the Civil war." Carcette's gaze did not lighten.
Cura was stuck. Could she lie before the Shrine of Stendarr?
No.
No, she could not.
"I did, Keeper..." Cura lowered her head. "I know you told me not to get involved in Political matters, but..."
Keeper Carcette placed a gentle hand on Cura's shoulder. "I'm touched by your dedication to our Order, my Sweetroll."
Cura was stunned. She was expecting Midnight Guard Duty for the next month, but instead, she was complimented. "Um... yes, of course..." She could barely squeeze it out.
"For future reference, you don't have to go to such extremes to get a Blacksmith to help us." Carcette informed her.
She thought that she did it to persuade Eorlund.
"A-all right, Keeper." Cura responded. "So, uh... I don't know exactly how to put it, but, I'm a member of the Companions now."
Keeper Carcette scoffed. "And yet still so squeamish." She mocked playfully, which stirred a light irritation in the younger Breton.
"Well, I will be training with them, from time to time." Cura explained. "But, aside from that, something has been weighing on my mind, Keeper."
"What is it?" Keeper Carcette asked. "Are you still feeling overwhelmed about being the Dragonborn?"
"Yes, but that wasn't it." Cura was tempted to bring up the recent dubious feelings she'd experienced in battle, but ultimately decided that perhaps it would be for the best not to worry Carcette with it. After all, the Keeper had much on her mind already. Cura decided then to deflect. "I was thinking of... er... Vigilant Moric again."
"Oh... yes." Carcette snubbed at the thought of him. "And what, pray tell, has crossed your mind concerning him?"
"I want to go to Ruunvald. I'll investigate it." Cura stated.
"If you do, be very careful." Carcette shook a finger. "I don't want to have to worry about you being killed, or worse... infected. There is cause to believe that this 'Minorne' the blundering fool could not stop writing about is a Vampire."
"Hmph." Lydia scoffed. "You seem to really dislike him."
"It's not a matter of whether I like or dislike him." Carcette rebuked Lydia. "If you find him and bring him here alive, be certain that he hasn't become a Vampire himself. If he has, I will trust you to do the right thing, Cura."
Cura nodded. "Understood, Keeper. I just hope it won't come to that."
Suddenly, Brother Adalvald's concern about Dimhollow Crypt began to feel a little more relevant than it had before.
"In the meantime, Cura, I will write a response letter to the Thalmor-and I will confirm Thorald's arrival here." Carcette assured. "Just know that I will never lie for you again."
"Understood, Keeper." Cura nodded sheepishly. She felt guilty; the actions she had taken are now causing Carcette to sin on her behalf. "Stendarr forgive us." She held a fist to her heart and bowed her head forward towards the Shrine in reverence to the God of Mercy, hoping he could forgive them this lie. It was, after all, for a good purpose.
Cura turned then to Lydia. "Mudcrab Chitin and Charred Skeever Hide..." she mused aloud. She walked past her Housecarl and over to the Alchemy table in Carcette's bedroom. She found the Mudcrab Chitin, but no Charred Skeever hide. The Breton clicked her tongue. Surely the Keeper would have the necessary ingredients for such an integral solution. She looked at the Ingredients the Keeper kept on the counter nearby, and found a coordinated substitute; Vampire Dust.
"Ah! That should work!" Cura took the Vampire Dust, and after grounding up the Mudcrab Chitin using her Mortar and Pestle, Cura inserted the refined powder into the central chamber of the table, and added the Vampire dust in bits around it. After a couple of minutes, she held a flask at the ready as the silver-coloured fluid began to run out of a spigot and filled it.
"A Potion to cure all disease." Cura said, as she held it up to an impressed Lydia. "I'd call it a Panacea, but it sadly wouldn't work on the Corprus disease. Many have tried it in Morrowind, from what I've heard."
"Corprus?" Lydia raised an eyebrow, indicating ignorance. "What does that do to people?"
"Well, as Brother Adalvald described it symptoms generally include a number of cancerous growths and, in the diseases' later stages, violent insanity; those in the late stages of the disease become stronger and are referred to as Corprus Stalkers. Some, whose growths are more debilitating, are called Lame Corprus Beasts. Corprus is considered incurable by the inhabitants of Morrowind." She shivered. "I'm glad we can't get it here in Skyrim."
"No, instead we have Ataxia, Witbane, Droops, Rockjoint, the Rattles, Black Heart Blight, Brain Rot, and Bone Break Fever." Lydia stated factly.
Cura continued to make another Cure Disease potion with what was left of the ingredients she found.
"Oooh... I've had Rockjoint before." Cura confessed as she began to ground up the Chitin again. "Terribly painful; I understand why they call it that. Your elbows become stiff like stone, and swinging a mace around with it is more painful for the one holding the weapon than the one receiving it." She shuddered. "But still; compared with Stomach Rot, I think we have it quite easy here in Skyrim."
"'Stomach Rot?'" Lydia questioned.
"In Keeper Carcette's homeland people suffer with it." Cura stated. "It's like having a hole inside of your stomach, and it slowly eats away at you from within. It can be fatal if untreated."
"Ysmir's beard!" Lydia was disgusted by the mental image.
Cura corked the potion. "So... off to Ruunvald we go, I suppose."
"You suppose?" Lydia crooked an eyebrow.
"It's in Winterhold, isn't it?" Cura mused.
"I have no idea." Lydia shrugged. "I've never heard of it before."
Cura sighed, and left the Keeper's dorm, and quickly looked around for her. Sure enough, it was a quick search. "Keeper...?" Cura walked over to Carcette, who was sitting on a bench, collecting herself.
"Yes?" The older Breton asked.
"Where is Ruunvald, again?" Cura was a little awkward at the mention.
"It's in the Rift," Carcette stated. "due East of Shor's Watchtower."
"Good, good." Cura mused. "I have an idea where that is."
"Can you take out your map?" Carcette asked as she took out a Quill and an Ink blot.
Cura did as she was asked, and took the map out of her satchel. Carcette dipped her pen in the ink and scratched an arrow onto the map, on a mountainous area below Eastmarch.
"There it is, approximately." Carcette wiped the ink off the Quill on her sleeve. "Stendarr be with you."
"Stendarr be with you, as well." Cura said with an unsure smile.
She and Lydia began their journey through the Frozen Mountainside, trough the thick mist and and uproar of violent snowfall.
They passed through the Pale and after doing some circling as Cura's sense of direction was imperfect on good days, eventually reached Eastmarch.
A hollow roar could be heard amidst the sky, and Lydia immediately ducked for cover behind a rock. Cura quickly slid along the ground, joining her as a Dragon soared overhead. The pair quickly sidled along to the backface of the mountainside, maintaining their cover as the Dragon lowered itself to the ground. With a violent snap of the lizard's jaws, it bit a Snowy Saber Cat, which tried to fight back against the fiend, at its own demise.
Cura could see her own breath in the cold air, and covered her mouth.
They did not need an altercation with another Dragon at this point in time. The two waited, weapons poised just in case, as the wyvern soared away.
Cura breathed a sigh of relief, and went over to the dead Saber Cat. It was free materials for them. She took out a knife and began to shave off some of the fur, and quickly stuffed the pelt into the snow to attempt to wipe at least some of the blood off of it, and Lydia carved out a couple of its fangs, claws, and eyes. All of which could be used for armour and for potions.
"Waste not, want not." Cura spoke as she finished shaking snow off the pelt and proceeded to stuff it in her bag. Lydia carried the eyes, fangs, and claws.
Soon enough, avoiding the main roads and maintaining a streamline through the mountain pass, the pair came upon a large watchtower.
"That's Shor's Watchtower!" Cura cross-referenced the visual from the map with what was before them.
"So, the Ruunvald Excavation is East of here." Lydia mused as she held a hand to her forehead and began to search the snowscape.
Her eyes settled upon what appeared to be a large digging site with tents and bedrolls set up outside. The bedrolls and tents were nearly completely blanketed by snow and worn out beyond usage.
The Nord led the way, and the Breton hastily followed.
When they reached the spot, a Vigilant simply sat outside, looking to the ground. He appeared to be asleep upon closer inspection.
"Hello, fellow Vigilant!" Cura exclaimed in a friendly manner, as she laid a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.
The Vigilant then slumped over, and fell off the seat to the ground. When his hood slipped off, a Skull was revealed beneath it, causing Cura to gasp loudly. She jumped backwards.
"He-" She was choked for words. "Dead..."
A shiver went up Cura's spine.
What was going on here? Was she too late?
She eyed a small red book in the snow nearby, protected by its hogskin leather covering.
Cura picked up a Journal in the snow, and began to dust off the white powder. When she opened it, she could see that some snow had corrupted the page cornersm and written on the inner cover was "Volk's Journal."
'Volk'. Why did that name feel familiar?
She began to read it.
"Day 14
I knew I should have volunteered for the excavation earlier. For months, Moric had been going on to the Vigilants about detecting mystical energies deep in the east mountains. Said he'd found some old tomes about the ruins of "Ruunvald" or something the like, a Nordic chamber thousands of years old. I remember thinking "Yeah, if it's so old, how come no one's found it yet? There's plenty of adventurers wandering around these parts."
Seemed like most of the other Vigilants agreed, we had more important things to do. But Moric took a team and went digging, and when he started turning up a long buried temple, well, didn't I feel like a troll in a dung heap.
Soon enough, he was sending back letters to the Hall, begging for as many men as we could send. I didn't volunteer at first, still seemed like a myth to me. But when word came back that they'd hit the main chamber, I packed up and headed this way to help. Always did want to be a part of history, and better late than never, they say.
Well, "they" didn't mention that the late comers would be stuck with guard duty. I just sit up here all day, watching for bandits and wolves, neither of which I've seen. Mostly I just see diggers coming up for supplies. Gotta say, I been seeing them a lot less regular, now that I think about it..."
Cura continued flipping through. She vaguely remembered Vigilant Volk: he was the sort to come and go, but never settled for more than a few days. She hoped to Stendarr that the skeleton she uncovered wasn't his.
"Day 19
All right, it's been 3 days since anyone's come up. The last one to emerge was Apa, and he just walked around a bit with a weird vacant look in his eyes. Told Florentius and me to come down as soon as we had the chance, then trudged back in.
Something ain't right, and I aims to find out what...
Volk"
Something wasn't right, indeed. He took the words right out of Cura's mouth. The young Paladin slipped his journal into her bag for safekeeping, and found a key next to the Skeleton. It was a key to the Ruunvald Excavation door, she presumed.
"CURA! Behind you!" Lydia shouted out.
"Wha-?"
Cura felt a dagger stab her in the side, and the Skeletal Vigilant yanked it out.
"Gah!" Cura shouted in pain. She quickly whirled around and smashed him with her mace, causing the bones to fall apart, leaving behind the uniform as the skull rolled down the hillside. Quickly, she began to heal herself.
"Are you all right, my Thane?" Lydia asked, showing some concern.
"I will be." Cura stated.
"You really need to be more watchful of your surroundings." Lydia reprimanded her.
"I know..." Cura droned. She had clearly heard that before, elsewhere.
"Ah! There you are! Good that we're on time." A baritone voice called out behind them. Vigilant Tolan and Brother Adalvald came running up the mountainside, joining Vigilant Cura and her Housecarl Lydia.
"Vigilant Tolan! Brother Adalvald!" Cura called to them as they hurried closer. It was a relief of sorts to see them. "Er... Keeper Carcette dismissed you from the Mythic Dawn Cultist?"
"We've gotten information from him concerning the Museum's display for Mehrune's Razor. It seems the shards of the infernal dagger are in good hands currently." Tolan explained. "The Keeper asked us to accompany you in this dangerous task."
Cura nodded. "All right." She turned to the door. "The more hands on this, the better."
"What do you think it looks like in there?" Brother Adalvald asked.
"Probably like any other Nordic Ruin." Cura spouted. "Maybe there could be Draugr, lots of traps, and incredibly nice stonework."
"And Vampires." Tolan added.
"Aye." Adalvald took out his Ebony Mace and gave it a twirl to adjust his wrist. "Can never get enough of those."
Lydia quickly pulled up the collar on her armour, to try and hide her neck.
"Cura, have you gone through any Ruins?" Brother Adalvald asked, wanting to ensure that she had a rough idea from more than just reading up on them.
"Yes. I went through Bleak Falls Barrow some time ago." Cura confessed. "Where I first learned I could read the Draconic Language."
"Ah." Adalvald recollected the notion. "Moric can help you in learning some of it... provided he still lives, and provided that his books have not been burned by that evil wench."
"I hope not." Cura stated as she approached the door. "But, before we go in, thank you for coming with me. Please, be careful yourselves."
"Of course, lass." Tolan laughed. "We can take care of ourselves."
Cura placed the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door to the ghastly ruins. Immediately, the damp air from within sucked them in, A deep, dank pressure built up, and the smell of old rot and mold permeated the air.
Shrouded in shadow, the four of them walked through the cavernous entrance, and onto wooden support beams. Cura looked down and was surprised at the sheer amount of digging that was done here.
Lydia flinched a couple of times before letting out a blaring sneeze, which resounded through the halls. "KYA-CHOOO!"
The others jumped, and Cura turned to her. "Stendarr bless you, Lydia!"
Immediately, a voice sounded from around the corner. "Is someone there?"
A Vigilant of Stendarr was overseeing a couple of others, who were mining ore at the bottom of the crevice, and was alerted by Lydia's sudden sneeze.
Vigilant Tolan was quick to address the Vigilant. "Hail, fellow Vigilant! Stendarr brings liberation."
The Vigilant's vacant expression spoke volumes. "Only Minorne brings liberation! Blasphemers!" He rushed forward with an Iron Mace, ready to cave in Tolan's head, but the Nord was quick to the draw, sideswiping him with his warhammer and sending the Charmed Vigilant over the boardwalk down to the floor many feet below. His body connected with a loud, resonating thud, and Cura looked on, mouth agape.
They ran across the boardwalk, when a female Charmed Vigilant with a crossbow was taking aim at Brother Adalvald. Cura was quick to the draw, and shouted her off the adjacent boardwalk with a "FUS!", causing the Charmed Lady Vigilant to join her Brainwashed Compatriot on the ground below. Cura cringed when she saw her body ragdoll to the ground.
Maybe it would be better if they left before they would hurt any more of their own.
Brother Adalvald was clutching his ears. "Argh!"
Cura realized she was beside him when she shouted. "Ooh! oh, no! I'm sorry!" She cupped her hands in front of her mouth when the fact registered. "Are you all right?" She quickly placed her hands on his arm and shoulder instinctively.
"By Stendarr! You just used the Thu'um!" Vigilant Tolan exclaimed from a distance away, as he finished splitting the skull of the last Charmed Vigilant in the immediate area. "Like those Greybeards on their Mountain!"
The Greybeards again.
Cura did not want to speak with them. Not yet. She was not ready. There were so many other things she had to improve first. What good would her power do if she couldn't fight well enough?
She quickly shuffled ahead of Tolan with her shield up and headed on through the door, and went further into the site. She took one look in the next room, and saw a few other Vigilants, each of them with a red aura clouding their head. They were all clearly under a spell.
How could this happen? Why would Stendarr allow this to happen?
Cura shrugged it off. Now was not the time to question things: it was time to take action. Whoever this Minorne was, she was going to pay dearly for what she's done.
Immediately, a Vigilant lunged at Cura, and knocked her to the ground. He was different from the others: he wore an armour made of hide and steel-a Vigilant enforcer set. Cura had only seen this armour set once before; they were the strongest of the Vigil, and were mostly cordoned off in Cyrodiil. This one came to Skyrim, evidently. He crawled on top of her and held her down. The Vigilant lifted his helmet, and leaned in closer to Cura, revealing a sharp pair of fangs.
"Must... drink..." he muttered dryly.
The Breton's eyes widened with horror at the prospect.
Cura was quick, and shouted in his face. "FUS!" This knocked him off of her, and she quickly slammed him in the side with her mace.
Immediately, the Vampiric Vigilant rushed past Cura and was sideswiped by Brother Adalveld with his own mace, knocking him back, he Vampire was quick to rebound, and shoulder-tackled him out of his way, and broke free to the exit. "A coward I am! A coward!" The Vampire cried as he rushed out of there, unable to face the Vigil's Justice.
A few other Charmed Vigilants swarmed the group. Lydia quickly stood in front of her Thane, shield out and sword ready for blood.
"Brothers!" Vigilant Tolan shouted out. "You must come to your senses!"
Words fell on deaf ears as a crossbow bolt drilled him straight in the stomach, causing the large man to stagger backwards. Blood began to pool on the fabric of his white Apprentice Robes. Cura grit her teeth and jumped in front of him with her shield extended to block the next bolt, which peeled back the metal as it ricocheted off the plate and did an aerial spin towards the ceiling and came down onto the shoulder of another Charmed Vigilant.
Cura rushed past the group and smacked the Charmed Vigilant across the head with her mace, being careful to simply knock them unconscious, intentionally avoiding their left temple. When the Vigilant hit the ground, Cura was quick to tend them. She wished to avoid as much death as possible. These were her fellow Vigilants, after all.
Vigilant Tolan struggled as he reached into his stomach and pulled out the crossbow bolt. "HRRRAAGH!" He wailed as he pulled the metal splinter out of his midsection. Blood quickly began to run out of him like a squeezed berry. The Vigilant quickly cast a Healing spell on himself, closing up the near-fatal wound. When all was well, he breathed deeply, huffing like an Animal before regaining his composure.
"Are you well, Tolan?" Brother Adalvald asked him.
"Less talk, more fight!" Tolan grit his teeth as he ran forward and aided Cura and Lydia as they were fighting 3 Charmed Vigilants atop a crevice. He quickly stuck his warhammer's sharp head into the side of one of them, and yanked it out, causing him to slump to the ground, dead.
"Vigilant Tolan!" Cura exclaimed as she blocked a blow from an iron mace. "We must avoid killing as many as we can!"
"They're already lost, Cura." Vigilant Tolan buried his hammer in the next one's back, causing her to cry out as she hit the floor.
Lydia stuck her sword in the last one's chest, and then slashed them across the next as she pulled it out and performed a half-spin maneuver.
Cura knelt down before one of the dead Vigilants, and gently placed his hands over his chest, and closed his eyes. "May you rest in Aetherius, brother."
Brother Adalvald could see that Cura wasn't taking it well. He placed a hand on her shoulder "Yes, Cura... their souls are at peace, now. They are no longer in that Vampire's control."
"How is she doing this?" Cura asked as she got up. "I know Vampires can control individuals-but not en masse like this... unless she's incredibly powerful, unlike anything we've ever seen, or she's using a Daedric artifact of some kind."
Brother Adalvald considered the idea.
"Whatever the case may be, she's going to pay dearly for this!" Vigilant Tolan exclaimed as he perched his warhammer on his shoulder.
Cura noticed a small whimpering sound in the distance; it sounded like it belonged to a dog, strangely enough. When she peered over the mess of boards and rocks, she saw a Husky dog backed in a corner, its back arched, fur standing up.
"Oh, hello, doggie!" Cura slowly approached the scared canine. "It's okay, I'm not going to-"
Immediately, the fearful act ended, and the Husky leapt forward to bite. Cura quickly held up her iron gauntlet, causing the hound to hang off of her arm, gripping the metal in its jaws rather than her flesh.
Cura was quick, and spun around, and tossed the dog off her arm.
When the dog landed, a faint red aura hung over its head. It, too, was being controlled.
The Husky jumped towards Cura again, aiming to bite her chest, but Lydia was quicker, and plunged an arrow into the Hound's side, causing it to fly through the air due to momentum. Cura felt bad for the poor Husky as she heard it whimper as it staggered along the ground, the arrow sticking through its body and blood pouring out. The dog squeaked in pain and the red aura was slowly leaving it.
Cura closed her eyes and looked away at first, but ultimately, she walked over to the dog and pulled the arrow out of it, causing it to wail loudly with a bloodcurdling 'yelp!' The dog was falling in her arms, and Cura's compassion won over. She could see the red aura returning to the poor dog's head, and knew what she had to do. It would keep attacking until it died, a slave to the Vampire's will.
She embraced the dog, and gently pat its head. "Stendarr's mercy be upon you." She muttered softly, as she quickly put the dog in a headlock, and pulling her arms apart while gripping it, snapped its neck, and bringing the tormented dog's life to a merciful end.
Cura simply sat there with her head down for a while, as the dead hound lay on her lap.
Tears ran down the young Breton's cheeks.
She wanted to avoid as much bloodshed as possible, but it only seemed to follow her and cling to her, like an accursed shadow.
"My Thane!" Lydia exclaimed as she hopped over the rubble and approached Cura. "My Thane, are you all right?"
Brother Adalvald and Vigilant Tolan joined them.
"Vigilant, you did what you had to." Tolan informed her, as he tried to shake her out of it.
"I hate them..." Cura simply muttered. "Vampires... I hate them all..."
"Good." Brother Adalvald encouraged. "Good. Keep that hatred in your heart and you shall never be swayed, nor mistaken."
Cura grit her teeth and forced herself to stop crying. She quickly pulled herself off the floor and away from the deceased dog. She clasped her hand around her mace tightly, and her arm began to shake with anger. "I'm going to kill her." She said darkly. "Minorne. I'm going to tear her to bloody pieces!" She shouted at the end, looking up from the floor.
She pulled her hood down, as it only served to get between her and her prey. She needed to see the full picture.
Brother Adalvald moved aside for Cura to head past him, and he and Vigilant Tolan exchanged stricken glances. They had never seen the sensitive Cura like this before. Lydia herself became worried. She had seen something similar earlier on: Cura's burning hatred of Dragons. Lately, she would go from mild dislike to an irrational burning hatred fairly quickly.
All it seemed to take was witnessing a little bloodshed.
Clearly, Carcette and the other Vigilants hadn't prepared her for most of this life.
As they headed down a ramp and furthered deeper down the cave, another couple of Vigilants rushed at Cura, who simply shoved them out of her way and continued running forward like a madwoman. She set off a few pressure plates as she ran, and crossbow bolts fired automatically at her, several penetrating her flesh as she continued to run through. The pain caused her knees to buckle, and Cura took a spill forward, falling to the floor. Blood pooled underneath her from her numerous wounds. Gritting her teeth, Cura cast a Healing spell on herself, causing her body to push out the bolts, but forming many mall scars on her body in the process.
She focused on her rage, and the pain faded into the background, as the wounds themselves had.
Suddenly, the Vigilants she had pushed before came running back towards her, and began to bludgeon her repeatedly with their maces. Crunch after crunch, she could feel her meat becoming tender under the metal force.
Instinctively, she shouted. "YOL!"
The word the Dragons shouted. It seemed to come to her naturally; perhaps from absorbing the Dragons' souls.
A large burst of flame exited her mouth, burning those who were attacking her. The Charmed Vigilants quickly began to flail about, attempting to extinguish the flame, when Brother Adalvald slammed one into the ground with his mace, directly into his face.
Vigilant Tolan jumped high into the air and brought down the warhammer upon another's face, crushing his skull.
Lydia was the slowest to catch up, but she used her bow to make up for the distance, plunging a couple of arrows into the last flaming Vigilant, ending his suffering once and for all.
Cura's eyes were wild and furious. She simply grunted as she pulled her broken leg off the ground and forced herself to stand. She held onto a crate for support, and noticed a Healing Potion on it. She quickly took a swig of it, and her bones healed and reset in place.
"Cura, you need to-" Before Brother Adalvald could finish, the reckless Breton ran ahead, and cast Oakflesh on herself, strengthening her outer skin with a magic armour.
Immediately, Tolan called out upon seeing a familiar face. "Volk!" He shouted.
Volk, four Vigilants and a husky waited there in the next area.
Cura slammed a few Vigilants across the face when they leaped at her, but quickly managed to catch herself. She crossed the bridge and headed down the wooden ramps to the lower floor level, where a small sleeping area with a chest was by the eastern wall. To the south was an archway that lead into the Ruunvald Temple, according to notes scribed on the wall.
Brother Adalvald wrestled with Vigilant Volk, who tried to strangle him. "Volk, you're a good man!" He exclaimed as he pushed back. "Get a hold of yourself!"
Lydia ran past the Husky and other Vigilants whom Cura had rushed past, and quickly followed her Thane into Ruunvald Temple as Vigilant Tolan gave her a nod.
"Minorne... our Goddess..." Volk muttered in his trance.
"No!" Adalvald argued. "Stendarr, our God!" He corrected him as he shoved him to the floor, almost leading him over the rope railing. "I can't believe you let her do this to you!"
Tolan continued to fight off the Husky and the other four Charmed Vigilants.
Cura and Lydia headed deeper into Ruunvald, and came upon what appeared to be a large throne room with an Altar of some kind, as well as a cage on the Eastern side. Lydia noticed a book lying on the floor, and took it into her hands, and presented it to Cura. It was titled; "Minorne".
Cura had no interest in reading it, and instead wanted a piece of the real Minorne for herself. She headed up the stairs, and a Charmed Vigilant flew in as if from nowhere, and quickly shoved her down the stairs, causing the Breton to fumble downwards, twisting and turning before hitting the bottom, and struggling back onto her feet.
Lydia plunged an arrow into the Charmed Vigilant's left arm, and she ignored the arrow. She ran to Lydia, and hit the Housecarl with her mace as she was knocking another arrow, causing her to drop it to the floor as she staggered backwards. Cura quickly grabbed the Vigilant's ankle, and pulled her to the floor. The Breton knelt on the Charmed Vigilant's stomach, pinning her down in place. She punched her across the face. "SNAP OUT OF IT!" Cura shouted. "PLEASE! SNAP OUT OF IT! DON'T LET HER CONTROL YOU LIKE THIS!" She punched her several times across the face, becoming more and more frustrated by the lack of a response. The red aura was not leaving. The wounds weren't fatal, so Cura aimed to knock this one unconscious.
Lydia pulled the bloody Cura off the floor. "My Thane... please, you must calm down."
Cura's white robes; a gift to her from Keeper Carcette; stained with the blood of her fellow Vigilants, as well as that of her own. Holes riddled the fabric, a testament to many a Crossbow bolt, and her flesh was black and blue, spotted, and her hair was a mess. Her lower eyelids were reddened and swollen from the pained tears that profaned them. "Lydia..." Cura looked to her Housecarl. "coming here was a huge mistake..."
"No, my Thane." Lydia disagreed. "It needed to be done. It was wrong for your people to be forced into slavery like that."
Cura winced as she realized she had dislocated her right ankle falling down the stairs. She pulled herself backwards against a wall, and took her foot into her hands. With a readjustment, and a painfully loud 'crack!' she returned it to its proper position, and held back a shriek in her throat from the sharp pain thrust through her being. She cast a healing spell on herself again, causing the bones to fuse back into place.
Lydia cringed at the sight of it all. She clearly underestimated the benefits of Restoration magicks. In fact, most of Skyrim seemed to. Though it was a disgusting sight, it did the job well.
Cura slowly put pressure back on her foot, but hesitated at first. When she pushed down, it felt normal. "Phew..." she breathed a sigh of relief as she put her iron boot back on.
"My Thane," Lydia insisted. "after this you deserve time to rest. I insist."
Cura agreed. "Yes... yes, I think so, too." She took her mace back into her hands. "Time to end this little game."
She and Lydia headed back up the stairs, where they immediately noticed a High Elf with red eyes sitting atop a throne, wearing hooded black robes. Next to her on her left was a cage with a dark-skinned Imperial man in Monk's robes. He was meditating, and muttering to Arkay.
That had to be the Florentius Baenius that she heard about. Has he really been in here for an entire year? Gods, How awful!
To the right of the Altmer, however, was another Vigilant. It was a Breton man with dark brown hair and a large frame. Odd, for a Breton. He wore a pair of enchanted Novice Robes.
He must be Moric Sidrey.
Cura stepped forward with caution.
"Well, look at you." The Altmer scoffed mockingly. "You were able to resist the Staff's power. Most impressive. Either you haven't had enough exposure to it, or perhaps you're cut from a different cloth than your friends."
"You're Minorne." Cura said, through gritted teeth.
"How very observant." Minorne spoke venomously. She stood up from her throne. "Moric, darling."
"Yes, my wonderful Minorne?" Moric turned to her amorously, and bowed his head.
"Kill her." She pointed at Cura. "Kill her and bring her to me so that I may drink of her."
Immediately, without question, Moric took his pickaxe into his hand, and cast Oakflesh upon himself.
"Guard me, Lydia!" Cura commanded. "Be my Shield-Sister in this fight! The only rule I give you here is not to kill him. Aim to incapacitate."
"Yes, My Thane." Lydia nodded as she rushed ahead and stood at her side as Moric approached.
Minorne stood up from her throne, a black staff, similar in shape to a half-Caduceus, held tightly in her grip.
Cura braced herself, and Lydia prepared her sword.
