Served Cold

Ship repairs have been slow. Two weeks, two ridiculous weeks, Felwinter has spent on this island. Two weeks since he had seen his man, his kids. Two weeks every problem he left back on Skyrim has spent festering. He was in for a storm the second he stepped foot on to the port in Windhelm, he was sure of it.

Felwinter roughly yanked the heavy cloak from around his shoulders, just after putting it on, and willed it to disappear. So used to Skyrim's cold, trying to dress the same on Solstheim just left him a sweaty, huffing mess minutes after doing so, even with the occasional ocean spray to the face. He was walking alone along the beach, making for the Earth Stone. He had been watching that damnable thing for the length of his entrapment and it confounded him. If there was magic like this, using an object to so capably compel such a large group of people and so fully, so completely, he had never heard of it.

Some, like that Dunmer wizard whose invitation to speak he hoped he would not have to accept, proved resistant. Most other Raven Rock settlers did not and neither Jordis nor Gregor were allowed within a hundred feet of the thing. Felwinter would move them out of the town if he could. A number of times he's found Gregor staring at the Stone from as far away as the Retching Netch, with a look on his face that said he was considering walking over. When either Jordis or Felwinter recaptured his attention, the glaze would leave his eyes and he would continue on his business as normal, at least until he stopped to stare again.

None of it was a failure on his part, he was only human. Felwinter, however, was not. He's the only person in the town who has proven himself to be entirely immune. With everything else, he wanted to take it as a clue as to its origins or some kind of lead. But part of him attributes that desire to desperation. Desperation, well-founded. More than once, he's been woken by bad dreams in the dark of the night. More than once, he's woken Moth. Yes, the doors are sealed. Yes, the wards are working. Yes, the children are in bed. No, Lydia and I have not seen anything out of the ordinary.

Maybe Felwinter had made enough noise on Solstheim to draw the cultists' attention away from Skyrim. At the same time, maybe not. With all the protections he had set up for his family, who he had no doubts could defend themselves, things could still happen. A moment's slip could cost even the best fighters the game. Felwinter has fought against plenty of warriors who outclassed him, many mages who dwarfed him in both raw power and skill. He's still here, they're not.

So lost in his head was he, Felwinter didn't even notice when his feet stopped sinking into white sand and instead, tread across hard-packed dirt and stone. He regained awareness, coming to a stop just before the ring of water that surrounded the Earth Stone's base. Around it, and him, people worked. It was all the same people; none of them had even pulled away to eat. Judging by the length of time they had been there, the magic must have been sustaining them. Otherwise, at least half of them would have dropped dead from exhaustion by now, creating concerns as to what the effect would be if he pulled them away and everything caught up with them. Whatever hunger, thirst, or exhaustion they felt, the compelled powered through.

Indeed, Felwinter could feel the tug on his mind, beckoning him forward, bade him pick up a hammer, and find purpose in toil and labor. Let his hands be idle no more. The pull was so strong up this close. Felwinter blinked at its efforts.

"Serah!" A voice called out. "Lord Felwinter!"

Felwinter grumbled deep in his throat, purely on instinct. Then he sighed. It was better than "Lord Drakon". He turned to find the Second Councilor, standing alone at the very edge of town, his posture showcasing his absolute refusal to move any closer. Understandable. Felwinter moved away from the stone and started back down the path to meet him.

Arano's eyes were on the Earth Stone. "Has Crescius spoken to you about these poor souls?" he asked when Felwinter was close enough. "Most of them were meant to mine for him, back when he had hoped the mine would be opened up again. Some even traveled here from Morrowind proper, built connections, sought a new life."

"If I find the source, I'll be sure to put an end to it once and for all," Felwinter assured.

It was a weak one. Arano saw right through it. "And how close are you?"

Felwinter sighs again and looks back at the Stone. "Nowhere near." He gestured back towards the town as prompting to move further in but Arano shook his head.

"No one is allowed this close to the stone and I...would like a measure of privacy," he said. He tore his eyes away from the Earth Stone, with effort that did not look small. "It has been a long time coming and you'll have to forgive me, considering the circumstances. Captain Veleth has informed me of your efforts in defeating the Ash Spawn that plagued our home. On behalf of the town, myself as Second Councilor as well as the First, we thank you." Arano punctuated his sentence by bowing his head.

Felwinter very nearly takes it seriously. "On behalf of the first?" he repeated, "The First couldn't be bothered?"

Arano rises again, expression carefully neutral. "He is a very busy man."

"As am I. And yet in less than a week, I managed to save your little town, not once but twice," he argued, "All I've gotten for my efforts is stuck here, no closer to solving the reason I had to come here in the first place."

Second Councilor Arano would have been well within his rights to stop Felwinter in his tracks. To remind Felwinter that he involved himself in this affair and continued to do so, even with Captain Veleth's attempts at pushback. Maybe he needed to fight the Ash Spawn to leave Raven Rock but did not need to investigate Attius Farms and he certainly did not need to assault Fort Frostmoth.

But Arano keeps silent and lets him vent his frustrations before asking, "Would you be willing to save us again?"

The question hangs in the air. The Second Councilor doesn't give him time to respond anyway. He turns back towards the town and points at the gate leading outwards. He says, "Meet me there. An hour after dusk. I will explain further." He turns back to look Felwinter in the eye, striking red boring into deep brown. "Please, ser. Do this one more thing for us and I will ensure every question you need answered is so."

He bowed once more. Felwinter watched him leave and waited until he was out of sight before moving. He weaved his way through the town, its people still trying to regain some manner of normalcy weeks after the attack. He moved past Glover's shop, conveying his greetings with little more than a nod and leaving the Breton to his work of forging what was needed for repairs. Jordis and Gregor had found a spot of their own at the top of a small hill at the back part of town, just above and behind the inn. The two sparred to stave off the boredom and the anxiety, practice blades borrowed from the guard.

Not yet seen, Felwinter finds his own little perch and settles in for the show. Again, Gregor seemed even more relaxed than he had been coming in; sweaty and grinning. Felwinter watches as he pushes Jordis hard, backing her to the edge of their little makeshift ring, taking advantage of his greater height and the near forty pounds in weight he had over her.

Jordis was all too happy to do the same. She feinted left, darted right, and Gregor's slight hesitation in the middle of shoving his bulk forward and left was all she needed. She shoulders him on his right side and sends him pitching forward. The Nord planted face-first in the sand and a foot to the back kept him pinned there.

Felwinter started applauding, finally drawing their attention. Jordis removes her foot and offers her hand for Gregor to take. She hauls him up, smirking just slightly at his surprised look when she manages to do so so easily. He takes a few seconds to knock the sand and dirt from his beard and lips before turning to Felwinter, arms outstretched. "Thane Felwinter, I trust we impress?"

Jordis is already shaking her head, pulling the waterskin from her mouth. "No, no, don't encourage-"

Too late. He was enabled. "Lose the shirts!" Gregor laughs in surprise. Laughs harder at Jordis' loud and exaggerated groan.

Then she asks. "Any updates? On...anything?"

Felwinter drops from his perch and joins the two. "Ship's still deep in repair. Nothing around the Earth Stone has changed and from Veleth's reports, Ash Spawn attacks have been few and far between," he replied, "The attacks that do happen have been no trouble for the few patrols he's sent out." He steps past them for a moment, reaching for a shield that had been perched against a stump.

"That Dunmer. The Second Councilor, I saw you talking to him," Gregor said.

Felwinter picks up the shield, examining it. "A sensitive matter he apparently needs my help with. Believes it involves the safety of Raven Rock but I doubt it's from Ash Spawn. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so secretive." He points to the gate with his free hand. "I'm to meet him there after sunfall."

Without warning, he turns and tosses the shield in his hand to Jordis. But she's come to expect nonsense like that from him and grabs it out of the air easily. Gregor gets the second shield handed to him, lest he get himself brained. "Training's not over."

"What did you have in mind?" Jordis asked, strapping her own on.

"The cultists who attacked me were mages. Best to assume any others will be too. Since we're stuck here, I might as well teach you the best way to handle them. To start, the basic form of holding is all well and good but it's not the most ideal when dealing with magic. Gregor, shield up."

There was some confusion but little hesitation. Foot moved back, heels were planted, shoulders squared and torso braced. Felwinter waits until he finishes to step forward again. He puts his hand at the bottom of the shield and nudges it upward until it was at the line of his nose, covering his mouth. "And tilt down slightly, so whatever hits it doesn't spray into your eyes." He ordered Jordis to do the same. "Bit more of a tilt," he said, "And closer to your eyes so you can bring it up in an instant. At ease, then bring it up again."

From there, Felwinter keeps them well into the day, running them through every drill he's learned over the years. His decision to incorporate shields back into his fighting style was a late one but when he did, it was good to see that the effects of Ser Castel's endless drilling hadn't left him entirely, even years since they last stepped into the ring. Like his mother, their master-at-arms recognized the advantage sharp steel and sharper wits would grant in a magical society such as theirs, who so consistently underestimated the latter in those skilled in the former.

Stay aware of the air. There's always a shift when a magic user prepares to cast. I know you've felt it around me before.

Move in hard and fast but know when to back away. Mages, even battlemages, rarely have the stamina for long, drawn out fights. They will try their best to finish you quickly before they tire. A tired mage is a mage who makes mistakes. A mage who makes mistakes is a dead one and they're all too happy to take you with them.

When going against a group, always single out and target the mage. Giving one time to cast is a good way to die screaming. I would know. So would the cultists who attacked me and everyone who was around to watch. Even killing their warriors will just result in their corpses coming after you if the mage is half-decent at necromancy.

If you feel a strange sensation right down to the core of your body, you're probably being soul-trapped. The good news is that the spell doesn't last too long and it's hard to cast. Survive until you feel back to normal. Take as few risks as possible. Flee, if necessary. Where your soul will go is not worth it.

Mages at a distance are a threat but one up close can become a death sentence, unless you take them quickly.

Felwinter takes Jordis' shield and has Gregor drop his own. He orders the Nord to stretch out his hand, as if casting flames or ice. He shows them both how he uses the shield to move the arm just slightly out of position, away from his face to the space just above his head, leaving Gregor's torso exposed and a practiced sword pressed into the belly. Hard enough so that Gregor realized his point.

Felwinter tosses the shield back. "Even with all this, a mage acclimated to fighting could still counter. Ducking underneath a sword slash and getting a palm full of lightning or fire to your side is a good way to get put out of commission." Gregor picks up his shield while Felwinter gathers the swords. "Others could just lock you in a sheet of ice. Or flat-out call a bolt of lightning down just before you can get them."

"Your mother's done it before, hasn't she?" Jordis asked, "Anything regarding magic that impresses even you usually comes from your mother."

"You know me so well, Jordis. Usually happened to those who were stupid enough to confront her directly or threaten me." Felwinter held the blades in each hand and absent-mindedly began to move them around, recalling the dual-wield training he had also assumed he had long since forgotten. "She'd only offer mercy to the former."

"I see where you get it, thane."

"I take care of my own, Jordis. Anyway, she favors ice. She's gone so far in her connection with the element, she's even changed its appearance. It isn't blue or white. It's clear, like crystals or diamonds." He twirled the sword in his left over the back of his hand and smiled slightly at having managed it. "Once tried to convince her to make a bunch, sell them as jewels and make a killing."

"She sounds like a sensible woman," Gregor said, "I'm sure she disagreed."

Jordis snorted at that and at Felwinter admitting silence. "You've been training for years. Your lightning, it's still the same."

Felwinter stopped in his sword twirling. "Still not as good as her." He turned to Jordis and grinned. "Give me another decade or two, eh? I'm sure I'll get it."

"Bit of a conspicuous spot for something that can't be spoken about during the daytime," Felwinter says on his trek up to the gate. Arano most likely got there at the hour he said he would. The irritation in his face when his eyes landed on Felwinter showed. He wasn't a man used to waiting. But neither was he a man to forget the position he was in. He needed Felwinter's help and voicing his annoyance would do him no favors. So the Dunmer nods once in greeting and turns back to the gate, lined by Redoran guardsmen in place of heavy metal grating.

Felwinter was unarmed and armorless, not even the usual cloak gracing his shoulders. There was a slight glimmer to his eyes. Arano could tell he had been drinking. He starts his way out of town, away from the light of torches and the low din of civilization into the quiet of the wilds just outside of Raven Rock.

Felwinter catches up easily. "So what exactly prompted this moonlit walk along the beach? Why am I here, Arano?"

"First Councilor Morvayn is in danger. I need your help saving him."

The Redguard sobered up quickly. As much as could, anyway. "Your proof?"

"An attempt was made on his life during the Ash Spawn attack." Arano's face was carefully neutral and his eyes remained on the water but the tightness could be heard in his voice. "He is unharmed but his wife suffered injuries."

"Life-threatening?"

"No, but they will scar. Morvayn is as close as blood to me. So is his wife." His lips pressed together tightly, "Every time I see those scars, I am reminded of my failure. So is he, I suspect. This was politics before. It is personal now."

Fangs embedded deep into Moth's neck. The river of deep, dark red running down his shirt to the ground. The sheer, blinding panic of watching one of the strongest, sturdiest, most immovable men he had ever met drop to trembling knees-

Felwinter squeezed his eyes shut and breathed. Then he opened them, his tight fist after. He sighed wearily. "Every question answered," Felwinter reminds Arano, "Every single one. By the First Councilor himself."

"As I've said and Morvayn has agreed."

"Then where do I start?"