Cura examined the glistening sword, holding it up to the sunlight as she lay on her back by the foot of a tree. She pondered what Meridia had said about seeing through Lorkhan's trickery. So the Divines were tricked into expending their power to create Mundus. The Legends were true. Now, all that she could ponder was that if Alduin and the Dragons were perhaps created to undo the act? If Alduin consumed all life, where would it go? What would it turn to? Primordial energy? Would the Gods perhaps regain their splendor? Would Alduin become a Divine? Would he convert the energy into a new world, or simply fly the void for eternity?
Or, perhaps it was an accident? Maybe Alduin was the shadow left behind by Akatosh when he gave his power to the world? A piece of the Divine did exist in the Amulet of Kings, allegedly. When it was sundered by Martin Septim, Akatosh was said to have come forth and defeated Mehrunes Dagon. This took Martin's life, and the Emperor vanished with the Spirit of the flaming Dragon and Mehrunes, ending the Oblivion Crisis it was said.
Could this breach have caused the slow return of Alduin? Was he biding his time?
Cura was only hypothesizing, and she understood that she could be entirely wrong in these accounts, but there were hundreds of ways she could rationalize this madness. Perhaps even another "Warp in the West" occurred. Maybe Jagar Tharn himself lurked around the corner, spiting Tamriel from the shadows, and unbound the Dark Dragon?
Nothing was impossible, evidently.
Cura continued to ogle Dawnbreaker. An ebony blade, with a glowing gemstone between the ringed opening of the crossguard. How could this be considered Daedric?
The Daedra liked all things ugly and sinister. This seemed more akin to an Aedric artifact, like Stendarr's Hammer. Though Dawnbreaker was more lovely and refined, however. No offense intended to the God of Mercy, of course.
"My Thane, are you ready to return to the Vigil?" Lydia asked her.
"Not yet." Cura admittedly was hesitant to return with Dawnbreaker, because there was a very high chance that Keeper Carcette would confiscate it and lock it in the Vault in the basement, as unfair as it would seem.
But why? It would be such an asset in their battle against Vampires and the Undead.
Then it dawned on her; the sword belonged to her now. Cura was it's rightful owner, as Meridia herself granted it to her.
Cura continued to examine the sword. "I could do so much good with this." The Breton stated.
She stood up and gave it a practice swing, watching the streak of light trail as the blade whizzed past. The sparks were beautiful; captivating.
All Undead will tremble at the sight. If she only had it during the Ruunvald excavation: it would have made the battle with Minorne far shorter.
Perhaps fate's design was for the Vampire to meet her end by the hand of Moric Sidrey. Fitting. Poetic, even, considering she made him into her slave.
Perhaps it was time to return to the Vigil. Cura would keep Dawnbreaker against the odds, though, to be sure.
"My Thane?" Lydia looked at Cura inquisitively.
"I will return to the Vigil." Cura stated. She offered her hand. "Let's Fast Travel."
Lydia hesitated. She hated Fast Traveling, as it continually made her nauseous. She grabbed Cura's hand, and the pair ascended time and space. With a light whiplash, they arrived in front of the Hall of the Vigilant.
Lydia stumbled backwards and landed her behind into the snow. Cura however staggered forward.
Lydia got up and dusted the snow off. "I'll be in Dawnstar if you need me." She stated.
Cura nodded, dismissing her follower. She then entered the Vigil, where it seemed that Keeper Carcette was waiting for her.
"Ah, Cura! You've returned. That was admittedly faster than I'd have thought." The Keeper admitted.
"I nearly lost my heart, but otherwise, it went well." Cura shrugged lightly.
The Keeper glared at her with mild concern, causing the young Breton to recant. "Er-that is to say, the Necromancer's attempts bore no fruit."
"Thank Stendarr." Carcette sighed with relief.
"And Merida." Cura added, which lightly perturbed the Keeper.
"Thank Stendarr." Keeper Carcette reinforced with emphasis. "Do be more careful the next time you encounter a Necromancer. They can do much worse than kill you, as you know." As usual, she would critique Cura's efforts, placing emphasis on her errors.
Cura sighed, knowing when to let things go. "The Necromancer was a worshipper of Boethiah. He wanted to sow discord in the province, by using the dead to fill the ranks of his army."
"What a surprise." Keeper Carcette spoke dryly. "Next you'll tell me he was an Altmer or Breton."
"Breton, actually." Cura raised a finger coyly. She knew it would come as no surprise.
The Keeper was unamused and simply nodded with recognition. "I'll bet he hailed from The Reach. These Forsworn are a menace. Pure, uncivilized savages. Nothing at all like those of us in High Rock. We at least have refinement."
"I don't think he had ties to the Forsworn, but he was dangerous just the same." Cura mused. "I think he may have been from somewhere here in Skyrim, though. Where, I haven't a clue."
"Then Skyrim will be happy now that it's rid of him. Good work, Cura." the Keeper praised, causing the Vigilant to blush bashfully. Carcette kept it short and segwayed straight to her point, walking over to the Shrine and taking a letter up. "At any rate, you've come just in time. I require your aid on this one. Would the Dragonborn be willing to help a Breton in her hour of dire need?"
Keeper Carcette was a tad more irritable than normal, and she had bags underneath her eyes. Clearly she hadn't slept in some time. Though, identifying it based on irritability would bear no insight, since the change in demeanor was minor from normal.
Cura grew lightly concerned. If she had to point out her being Dragonborn, that certainly changed things. It had to be something pressing. "What is it, Keeper?" She was energized and healed by Meridia, so Cura felt as though there was naught she couldn't do. Rest be damned.
"You may read the missive. I'll need to get my hammer." The Keeper promptly handed the letter to Cura and began to walk towards her room off to the side to retrieve her cudgel.
"Your hammer? You're coming with me?" Cura asked, surprised as she tracked the older Breton's movement until she vanished from view.
There was no immediate response, so Cura opened the folded sheet and began to read.
"Carcette,
I've received your letter about the sudden disappearance of our patrols in the Pale. The news is troubling for sure. My old partner Fenrik was among them, and he was not only a Vigil Enforcer, but the finest warrior I knew. For him to be missing is no small thing, but perhaps fate has conspired for these events to happen, so that I may repay the life debt I owe him.
I will leave for Dawnstar in the morning and take a room at the inn. If I learn anything, you will be the first to know.
Stendarr's mercy be with you,
Azarain"
Cura was a tad confused. Disappearances? Fenrik? Who was that? Then, it hit her like a Giant's club. The Ruunvald excavation. She'd heard the name then. Was it Volk who told her post-event, or was it Tolan or Adalvald? Cura's memories of the event were hazy, and she would rather keep it that way. After all, she had felt enraged and disturbed to the point of nearly blacking out in that place.
The more she tried to recall, she hoped she was wrong, and that it wasn't anything to do with the Vampiric Vigilant who assailed her when they moved further in.
Only way to find out would be to investigate this with the Keeper.
At that moment, Keeper Carcette re-entered the Hall, Warhammer strapped to her back. "You read the Letter?" she demanded.
"Yes." Cura stated. "It sounds serious."
"Vigilant Azarain is Moric's coordinator who hails from Mournhold." Carcette stated. "I went to see him at the Windpeak Inn, but there was a glaring issue."
"What happened?" Cura asked.
"He was not present." Carcette stated darkly. "I don't have concrete evidence to suggest it, but I believe he too has gone missing. Initially I believed that due to lack of sleep, the Barkeep failed to notice his coming, but I then found evidence to the contrary."
"That's a bit of an assumption, Keeper." Cura wasn't buying it. "He could be late, he could be walking around Dawnstar somewhere, or he could have decided to leave."
"In which case he could have found me at the Hall." Carcette emphasized her point of contention. "It makes no sense."
Cura sighed. "Did the barkeep see him?"
"No." Carcette stated. "But what's more, the Barkeep found this letter, under a table, addressed to me." She sifted through her satchel and handed Cura another note, written on the same kind of paper as the first one. It had Carcette's name written on the back, but the ink on it was darker-more recent than the rest of the text. It was certainly an add-on. Incredibly suspicious.
Cura read it.
"Meet me at the Windward Ruins tonight. I have information.
Come alone."
Cura's heart went cold. It was a little suspicious, given the circumstances.
Though, Azarain was trustworthy, wasn't he? Perhaps the Keeper was just a little paranoid.
Still, Cura would not want to be wrong in this.
"Do you see now where my concerns lie?" Carcette asked Cura, looking for the reassurance of cooperation from her Protege. "It seems like Azarain's writing, to be sure, but for all we know, it could be a convincing predator mimicking it in attempt to lure me into a false sense of security. If not, I am going to blast him for this unorthodox trite."
"I'll go with you, Keeper. I promise to keep you safe, if this is a trap."
"Thank you, Cura." Keeper Carcette said afore she gestured to a few of the other Vigilants to follow her.
"Are you going to leave the Hall unattended?" Cura was uncertain about this course of action.
"When Moric wakes up he'll find my letter by the shrine." Keeper Carcette stated as she headed out the door, Vigilants following suit. Cura hurried along to catch up with the Keeper and walked by her side then onwards.
It took almost no time to reach Windward Ruins, as it was about 20 minutes' distance from the Hall of the Vigilant.
There was a circular Grove surrounded by an enclosed outer passage, shrouded in snow, smeared with blood.
There were a couple of deceased Vigilants buried face-first in the snow, disarmed of their mace's and their robes stained with blood and torn apart by what looked like claw marks.
When Keeper Carcette turned one over, she recognized the young man and cringed upon seeing her fearful suspicions confirmed.
A Dunmer; likely Azarain, Cura surmised by Carcette's reaction.
Though, he had holes in his neck. Two nail-sized puncture wounds with dried, flaking blood staining a trail on his gray flesh.
"I was right." Keeper Carcette stated somberly. "I'd hoped I was wrong..."
Cura placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't feel too bad about it, Keeper. Your intuition was right, but there was nothing we could have done for him. Or the others."
"And there is still the matter of the missing Vigilants." One of the Vigilants reminded them. "When we find out who's responsible for this, we'll destroy them with Stendarr's fury!"
"None escape the Vigil. All come into the light." A Nord Vigilant said as he placed a hand over his chest.
Cura nodded with agreement, and Carcette gave out the next order. "I want the area searched for any clues."
The Vigilants spread out into the ruins and began to search through, combing the atea as Carcette rested a hand on her forehead, wincing from her tiredness.
Cura found a journal in a nearby snowbank, beneath a rock. "Keeper, I think this was Azarain's!" She announced, holding the rigid leather book up into the air.
"Let me see it." Carcette held out a receptive hand and Cura obliged, imparting the journal.
"The investigation has moved slowly, but that was to be expected. The townsfolk have their own problems, and few pay any mind to the fate of Stendarr's chosen. I will write what I've pieced together so far, in hopes it provides some clarity.
From what I've gathered, Fenrik came to Dawnstar to investigate rumors of Daedra worship. There was some thought that this cult was the source of the town's recurring nightmares, although it's unclear how much of that is true.
Then one night, Fenrik disappeared, without a word to the innkeeper or anyone in town. It was then that other patrols started to go missing, also without a trace.
Of leads I have one. The other day the innkeeper found something curious behind the inn, in the midst of emptying the trash. It was an Elven dagger, its blade warm with blood and upon further examination, tipped with poison.
The craft of the blade can mean many things. Perhaps this Daedric cult is Elven in origin.
Moreover, Elven weapons are fashioned from Quicksilver, and there is a mine in close proximity. The poison too could have originated from a nearby source. It's also likely that our murderer moves at night, when the eyes of the town are blind to their heathen worship.
As such, I suspect three individuals as possible owners of the blade. Vereth the Elf, who complains of the cold and yet seems resolute in staying. Harald the miner, who works the ore from which the murder weapon was fashioned. Lastly, Irine the traveler, who seems to know more about alchemy than the proprietors of the Pestle.
All three seem to be active in the small hours, but I can only follow one at a time. Still, doing so will prove useful, as they will either lead me to their place of worship or eliminate themselves as suspects.
But first, I must meet the writer of this note. Perhaps they know more about the dagger, or have information that can narrow down my search."
Cura stared at the brazen text. "Daedra worshippers in Dawnstar... so close to the Vigil? Very bold."
"Incredibly stupid." Carcette corrected with gritted teeth and much venom as she stuffed the journal into her satchel. "They think that they can play games with me? It shall not be so!" Her tone shifted to one of great offense and resolution. "Cura!" She called out to the Dragonborn.
"Yes?" Cura stood steadfast and loyal in the face of her Leader's ire.
"We've got investigations to conduct." Carcette stressed. "I want this to come to a fast end, if possible. We've more important matters to concern ourselves with here in Dawnstar. This is naught but an irritant."
Cura nodded. "We'll have to interrogate the people listed in the journal."
"Not exactly. If we interrogate one, it may alert the others, and we cannot afford to make a mistake on this." Keeper Carcette explained as she brought her fist down into her hand.
"Maybe I can investigate their persons? See if they have any Elven Daggers?" Cura mused.
Carcette nodded. "Good idea. And the other Vigilants can search their houses for anything suspicious."
"Another idea would be to follow them, like Azarain suggested." Cura stated.
"Do as you will, Cura." Carcette condoned. "Even if you must split a couple of skulls; if it seems necessary for your safety and success, do it."
Cura nodded. "All right. Be safe, Keeper." The young Breton hurried through the snow, leaving her mentor behind. The other Vigilants headed into the Town, as well, and Carcette watched them disappear into the light fog.
Keeper Carcette placed her index finger under her bottom lip as she stood there momentarily in thought. She pondered what her next move would be. Perhaps it would be good to be close to the investigation, so the others could more easily report their findings to her. She rationed, with her exhausted mind, that perhaps she could lean against the Inn. She'd be visible there from most points in the Small Port Town. She made up her mind and did just that, heading over to the Windpeak Inn, and sat on the wooden fence. She took a bottle of White-Gold Tower she had hidden in her satchel and took a swig of it. To keep warm, of course.
As a dark cloud looms, Lydia came outside of the Windpeak Inn at that moment. She noticed Keeper Carcette drinking on the fence post, and sneered. "Here to apologize, or are you going to ban me from Dawnstar, too?" Lydia spat.
The Keeper made no acknowledgement of the Housecarl. She instead took a longer sip and cleared her throat, and continued to watch the other Vigilants scattering about the town in search of the suspects' houses.
"...Oh, I see how it is." Lydia scoffed. "Pompous Snowback."
The Keeper continued to ignore her impassively, and after a moment of disbelief, Lydia noticed Cura a few stories down in the Town, walking by the large pond that linked the town to the Northern seas. After giving a disdainful glare to the Keeper, Lydia decided to rendezvous with her Thane below. She leapt off the upper cliff stair and slid down the small slope. After a firm landing, she trudged through the thick, lightly-powdered snow and met with Cura by the lakeside after passing the retired Imperial Soldiers who were out on their morning constitution.
Keeper Carcette scoffed at Lydia's insolence and continued to drink from her Flagon when she received a sudden blow to the back of her head and fell face-first into the snow. A figure shrouded in shadow slowly crept up behind her and grabbed her from the ground and proceeded to sling her over their right shoulder.
When Cura down below noticed her Nord follower, she gave her a warm, friendly smile. "Hi, Lydia! Good morning."
"A good day to you as well, my Thane." Lydia gave a partial bow. "I am ready to be of service to you once more."
"Well... I don't suppose you could help with this. Keeper Carcette-" Cura was about to explain how the Keeper was not fond of Lydia, only to be interrupted.
"-Is busy getting flush-faced by the Windpeak Inn while you're here doing the dirty work." Lydia interfaced. "Why do you stay with these people?"
Cura was dumbfounded. She was sworn to the Vigil, of course. She cared for the wellbeing of each and every Vigilant of Stendarr; especially their Keeper. What kind of question was that? "It's what I know." She simply responded, before cutting to the chase. "And... what do you mean, 'flush-faced?'"
"I think she's trying to outdo Ragnar the Red." Lydia laughed. "Does she drink often?"
Cura was a little perturbed. "Yes. Ale and Mead, usually. But anyways-we've important matters at hand! There's no time for that. I want to investigate someone here in town."
"Oooh, investigations. Fun." Lydia rubbed her hands together excitedly. "So, who's house shall I be breaking into this time?"
"The other Vigilants are off searching the accused's homes already." Cura stated, waving off the matter entirely.
"Well, no offense, Cura..." Lydia began. "But forgive me if I don't have much confidence in these Vigilants. They honestly don't really seem the 'Vigilant' sort to me."
"If there are any suspicious things, I am sure they will find it." Cura reassured her. "I'm going to search the Quicksilver Mine."
"Why the Mine?" Lydia asked.
"Because Quicksilver is the hidden alloy employed in Elven weaponry. It's the base metal, before Moonstone is cast onto it." Cura stated. When Lydia looked her with surprise, she clarified. "One of Brother Adalvald's notes, a long time ago. Plus, Vigilant Azarain-may he rest in Aetherius-made the assessment in his journal that the suspects use Elven Daggers. Here in Dawnstar."
"Who are the suspects, and... why are you looking for people with Elven Daggers? Thalmor spies?" Lydia presumed.
Cura looked around the immediate vicinity, and quickly pulled Lydia aside. She was sure to keep her voice low so that none could potentially eavesdrop on her conversation and potentially tip off the villains. Empires have been toppled by careless words.
"A Vigilant who was friends with Vigilant Moric sent a letter for the Keeper to potentially meet her at the Inn. He never came, but a note was left there nonetheless, addressed to her., asking for her to meet them alone at the Windward Ruins. She asked me to accompany her, in case it would be an ambush. There was no ambush, but there were dead Vigilants, and Vigilant Azarain was among them." Cura sighed. "The letter was true, but he clearly had enemies of his own following him. He suspected another Vigilant, Fenrik, of acting suspicious."
"And I suppose that Fenrik may have killed him?" Lydia posed the question.
"Maybe, or perhaps one of the suspects." Cura proposed. "That's where my job begins. I'm going to investigate Irine, Harald, and Vereth."
"Looking for anything in particular?" Lydia asked. "I could investigate the two others, and you can investigate the one in the mine."
"It happened recently, so maybe look at their fingernails for dried blood, or see if their lips are lightly stained... or if their blood smells like blood. Above all, see if they're concealing an Elven Dagger. They wouldn't leave it in their houses carelessly." Cura instructed before going over her own role.
"I think Harald works in the Quicksilver mine."
"Are you sure?" Lydia wanted to make sure that she knew who she would be looking for.
Cura thought for a moment and then grit her teeth. "I... think so?"
"You'd better check the Journal again." Lydia suggested.
"Oh..." Cura sifted through her satchel, to come up empty-handed. "I think the Keeper has it."
Lydia groaned. "Tell her you need to double-check it, that's all."
Cura nodded, and began to walk up the hillside. "She's beside the Windpeak Inn, right?"
Lydia sighed. "I told you."
"Then where is she?" Cura asked, pointing towards the now empty space on the wooden fence.
Lydia fell silent. She was just there, not too long ago, snobbish as ever.
Cura became increasingly worried the closer she moved. She could see where the Keeper was sitting, as the snow was wiped off of the fence, and there were footprints in the snow, matching the Steel plated boots Carcette wore.
Buried under shifted snow, however, was a Flagon, and its contents were mixing with blood on the snow.
Cura feared the worst, when she frantically began to look around and noticed smaller specks of blood on the wall of the Inn.
"Keeper-!" Cura gasped her title out abruptly. She followed the specks up to the roof.
Quickly, Cura ran around the building to see if the trail led to the backside of the building, but there were no Southern traces. Cura then picked up the pace and headed westward along the back of the Inn, trying her best to see the rooftop from different angles, but to no avail. Instead, between the Inn and the Jarl's Longhouse, she noticed a few more splotches of red in the snow.
At this point, a part of her regretted casting away her Lycanthropy; as it would have been advantageous in this scenario.
Lydia followed her from behind, and began to realize why Cura was heading that way.
The blood trail eventually stopped near the Quicksilver mine, and it appeared unnoticed by the Miners who were shovelings coal into the Smelter nearby.
Cura's worry was turning her nauseous. She scurried down into the mine, as her intuition had dictated prior.
The entrance of the mine lead into a tunnel that descended to the southwest corner of the chiseled bedrock.
As Cura hurried past Miners and reached the bottom, she entered the main mining area, which was defined by a maze of ledges above her, spiralling upwards.
There were three quicksilver ore veins on the ground level, glistening under the dim lamplight, and Cura could immediately spot a couple of splotches of thick red fluid. It was difficult to see in the encompassing shadow.
There was a campfire behind the central pillar on her level, and it served to illuminate more splotches of blood.
As Cura hurried onwards, she saw a bald Nord miner hacking at an ore vein alone. He seemed cold and distant.
"Excuse me..." Cura began, getting his attention away from his work. "You haven't seen anybody come down here, have you?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?" The Miner asked snubbishly.
Lydia caught up to Cura and realized that she was talking, so she remained silent.
"A reasonable one, I should think." Cura tried to remain cordial so as not to arouse suspicion while anxiety consumed her. She hoped she was mistaken, but it was highly unlikely.
"Look," the Miner held his pickaxe to the side, prompting Cura to fix her eyes on it. "I don't know what in Oblivion you're talking about. Leave me to my work and we'll all be all right, ok?"
Lydia caught a glimpse of a golden knife that was hidden under his shirt and in the side of his pants, bound by the belt. The hilt was unmistakably Elven. The Nord's eyebrows raised in recognition, but she quickly returned to her neutral gaze, keeping the discovery discreet.
Cura locked eyes with the Miner, but something seemed a little off. A little vacant with them. After a moment, she decided that she would certainly come back to him later. The small spots of blood ended there, in the cavern. Perhaps she had mistaken it for the Keeper's.
Cura did not have enough conclusive evidence just yet. She still had to investigate the other two, but once she had enough she could gain a pardon for destroying the malignant Daedric Cultists. "All right." Cura dismissed him to his work. "I suppose I'll just have to search elsewhere."
She exited the cavern, but a silent anger boiled within. When they exited the Mine itself, Cura quickly turned to Lydia. "We will wait until night falls. That man was extremely suspicious."
"And he had an Elven Dagger, I think." Lydia added in.
Cura's eyes widened. "What? Where? Are you certain?"
"You could not see it from the angle you stood, but he had what looked like a golden knife tucked into the back of his pants, on his right thigh." Lydia explained. "Though I couldn't entirely tell if it were Elven or... Dwarven, like your new mace."
"I'll follow him tonight. The odd activities are nocturnal." Cura stated.
"Hmm... it almost sounds as though it would be a good opportunity to test out your Dawnbreaker." Lydia said, hinting towards a potential Vampire menace, to which Cura simply nodded.
"I hope the Keeper is all right..." Cura mused with great fret in her tone. "If... if something happens to her, I... I don't know..."
"You'll have freedom, I guess. One less person to guilt you." Lydia said jokingly, which caused Cura to whirl around and glare at her.
"That's not funny." Cura rebuked her. "Not even in the slightest!"
She placed both hands on the sides of her neck and released a stressful sigh as she began to pace back and forth with increasing frustration. "Please let her just have returned to the Vigil... please let her just have returned to the Vigil... please, Stendarr... please..."
as much as the Breton tried to keep it together, her dismay was very visible, for all to see.
"Calm yourself, my Thane! You're going to give yourself a heart attack!" Lydia informed her sensibly. "I will investigate Irine and then Vereth tonight. If I see anything odd, I'll inform you."
Cura nodded. "Okay..." She came to her senses and wiped the corners of her eyes. "I'll get Vigilants Tolan and Moric... and Brother Adalvald if he's not busy in the Dimhollow Crypt." She resoluted. "If the Keeper walked back to the Vigil, I... I guess I'll just see that journal to ensure my facts are straight..."
The cavern was dark and wet, and the scent of rot and of blood permeated the stale air around. Keeper Carcette's nose curled in disgust as she attempted to sit up, only to realize she had been strapped down to a large slab of steel, apparently. "By the accursed Ebonarm! What-" The Keeper attempted to struggle from the bondage, but to no avail. As she moved more aggressively, the hardened leather only served to crush her against the steel in its inescapable grasp.
"Awake now? Good." A masculine voice called out from the next room, alerting the Keeper. The voice sounded familiar, but she could not place her finger on it per se.
"Who goes there?" Carcette demanded as a silhouetted figure entered the fray from a dark entrance. As he stepped closer into the dim torchlight, she could tell that he wore a Vigil Enforcer's Armour set with a dented Enforcer's helmet over his head, obscuring his face entirely. The armour, though, was different than usual-it seemed as if it were defiled by innocent blood.
The man approached close enough that his face was nearly in her's, and he slowly lifted his helmet, unveiling the horrors to the Keeper. "Do you recognize this face?" He asked.
"V-Vigilant Enforcer Fenrik..." Keeper Carcette murmured, attempting to remain stoic, while the fear in her eyes spoke for her.
"Not a lovely sight. I know." Vigilant Fenrik spoke regretfully. "I was once considered the greatest enforcer in the Vigil... until I met with an unfortunate accident in Ruunvald a year ago... after that young one defeated Minorne... the one who turned me."
"Yes, I know." Keeper Carcette spoke dryly. "We discussed it when you came to the Hall of the Vigilant a week afterwards."
"And you turned me away!" Fenrik snarled. "The Vigil insists that Vampires are irredeemable monstrosities who need to be purged at any cost..." He began to pace the floor, and wandered into the dark corners. "But in my cowardice I decided to ponder that vampirism had a cure. Never has the idea been entertained by any of the Keepers. If a monster could be cured, then could there really be monsters? People would begin to question the Order and its principles."
"I've..." the Keeper allowed a word to escape her throat, but the rest just hung within. Was it fear, or perhaps something more holding her tongue? Fenrik turned around and quickly approached Carcette, his flaming eyes illuminated against his shaded face.
"You've what?" Fenrik pressed. "Decided that now is the time to recant? Now that I have you in my clutches llke a harmless Rabbit? Now that you've nobody to protect you? No Tolan, no Adalvald, no Cura? Keeper, you truly are the biggest coward of us all."
Keeper Carcette's pride was hurt more than anything, but it did serve to allow her to break her speech barrier. "I've realized now that our Order is not completely correct. That-that some things can be cured!"
Fenrik pursed his lips and turned his face from her. "Oh?" He mused.
"Lycanthropy can be cured... I.. I hadn't thought of it before, but it can. Cura discovered it when-"
"When Cura was infected. Was that what you were about to say?" Fenrik sneered. "When one dear to you was infected, you agreed to aid them in their time of need. Were she anyone else, she would have most likely met the head of your hammer, as I had." He gestured over to Carcette's Warhammer, which was leaning against the wall across from them.
The Keeper's eyes widened. "All right, all right." She spat. "It was hypocritical of me, I know. But you don't understand-Cura... she's... different in more ways than you could imagine."
"Dragonborn? I've heard." Fenrik crossed his arms. "And the reason why I went out of my way to hide here. Why would she think to search the Mines?"
"Because Azarain spoke of it?" Keeper Carcette suggested, which caused Fenrik to turn around and slap her across the face.
"Don't you dare speak his name to me! He would not have had to die if you would have helped me!" Fenrik roared angrily, baring his long, slender fangs.
"You did more than kill him. You drank his blood; down to every last drop." Keeper Carcette called him out.
The vampiric Nord staggered backwards and looked at his clawed hands as he regained his balance. "I didn't mean to do it! It just..."
"...Came naturally to you?" Carcette preemptively finished his sentence. "You've defiled yourself with the blood of innocents! That is precisely why we slay Vampires. You feed and drink and kill all who come into your path, and enthrall people into becoming your willing slaves. The danger of your existence far exceeds the danger posed by a Werewolf."
Fenrik whimpered as her words cut into him like a knife. After a lone sob escaped him, he quickly converted it to anger. "I will reckon myself to Stendarr; I will throw myself upon his mercy, and plead his forgiveness after this night is done."
The Keeper wondered what he meant by that, and began to look around the room instinctively.
That was when she saw it. Above her head, though a little behind her. A font of blood, and above it, filling the font with the blood, a statue of the face of a demon hideous beyond reckoning, with four horns much akin to a Jacob's Sheep.
"M-Molag Bal..." Keeper Carcette's voice trembled when she muttered the name.
She frantically began to look around, and noticed other slabs around: eight of them, to be exact. Though they weren't quite slabs. They were open sarcophagi. The Keeper's breath turned ragged as she frantically began to try and escape her bonds, finally understanding what was about to occur. "Fenrik?! What-why would you do this?"
"Nine Vigilants. One for each Divine." Fenrik explained as he opened the sarcophagi's lids, one by one, revealing the defiled Vigilants who had gone missing. "You are Stendarr, the Merciful Imprisoner." He pointed to Carcette when he came upon her, who was the center of the distorted circle.
"This is asinine!" Keeper Carcette shouted in protest. "You want to seek Molag Bal's favour-and you expect Stendarr to forgive you this blasphemy?!"
"I expect him to forgive me for doing what I had to to be rid of this curse." Fenrik stated. "I hope for your sake that you're as close to him as you think, lest you wind up in Coldharbour with those others." He pointed to the dead Vigilants.
"You son of a-" Carcette tried to wrest herself upwards in a rage, but was snapped down by the overpowering leather bonds.
"Don't worry. Once I've been cured, I will assume your duties as Keeper of the Vigil, and will hold a vigil service in your honour. I'm not that cruel." Fenrik stated nonchalantly. "I will tell tale of hw you lost your life trying to save me from the clutches of the Prince of Domination, only to wind up in Coldharbour yourself. Cura will surely take it the hardest and mourn your loss, though I can't imagine anyone else doing so. You've run your ship so tightly that there aren't enough spaces in the cabins, I hear. I will treat the others more fairly, I promise you."
"When Cura arrives..." Keeper Carcette warned him. "...she will rip you apart, much like how a Bear tears apart a Rabbit."
"She still will not make it in time to save you, you self-righteous cow." Fenrik assured her. "And who knows? Consider how you've treated the poor girl. I would not be surprised if she turns against you in the end. She did go around the Order's mandates and aided a Daedric Prince herself, did she not?"
"How..."
"My eyes were inside of the Hall! Two of the Vigilants you see before you now were at the Hall over the last few months! They were my Thralls-and then my sacrifices." Fenrik laughed. "I saw Stendarr's Hammer, and the destroyed girl who lugged it in here. I saw the Meridian debate. I saw how you shunned your pet's Housecarl! I saw how, after all that poor girl has done for the Vigil, your only consolation was a 'thank you' and a slightly larger bedroom."
Keeper Carcette looked away from him. "What else could I have offered her? I've done what was within my power."
"Compassion." Fenrik stated. "Employ Vigilants to aid her. Allow the girl to have a life outside of the Vigil. You could certainly spare to do so, as you've been earning a fortune on trading your Leathers and Elemental Salts to Whiterun."
"I allowed her to join the Companions, and look what happened." Carcette snapped. "And who are you to judge me?"
"When I take your place, I will reward her richly. I will buy her a plot of land in the Pale, request ownership from the Jarl. I will make her my own personal Vigilant Enforcer. I will train her in fighting techniques she could only dream about." Fenrik stated. "More incentive for her loyalty. After all, she is the Dragonborn. That title commends respect! Not childish treatment."
Tears formed in the Keeper's eyes, but she forced them back. There was no way she would allow this monster to see her vulnerable. "Cura would never accept your offer." She spoke, her uncertain voice trembling.
"We shall see, Carcette." Fenrik said, as if to humour her in her faith in the Dragonborn's loyalty. "Come the night, we shall see, if she finds this place before the ritual is complete."
The Keeper, as stoic and hard as she made herself appear, was now helpless and horrified beyond her wildest nightmares. "HELP!" She cried out. "HELP! SOMEBODY! PLEASE HELP MEEE! PLEASE!" She wailed, but to no avail.
Fenrik simply exited the room, leaving the terrified Keeper to shout, her voice blocked by heavy stone walls.
Lydia went back to the Windpeak Inn and investigated Vereth, the High Elf donning mundane orange clothes and a fine hat on his heat. He was named in Azarain's Journal as a possible member of a Daedric cult, and being an elf, it was plausible that he would have an Elven Dagger. Who's to say that Harald the Miner was the only Cultist in Dawnstar? They could all be involved, or only one. Or none. Still, Lydia had to be certain, for Cura's sake if nobody else's.
Lydia reached into his pocket when she was certain nobody was looking, and her suspicions for the moment were averted, for he carried a Steel Dagger; not Elven; a carrot, and 32 gold.
She then decided to check on Irine, the Dark Elf who often frequented the Inn, as well, who was sleeping in a bed a few doors away. Lydia crept into the room and sifted through her red dress' pockets, where she found a Steel Dagger, some Wheat and Blisterwort; both for crafting a Healing Potion, as Cura once told her. Not a Cultist. That only left the original suspect: Harald.
Lydia quickly left the room and headed out of the Inn, and rushed down the wintry path, to the Vigil, despite her banishment. She pushed past a couple of Vigilants who were attempting to attack her on sight, and she raced straight into the Main Hall, where she found Cura leaning before the Shrine of Stendarr in Keeper Carcette's stead. Beside her praying were Moric Sidrey and Vigilant Tolan, who were alerted to Lydia's unwelcome presence.
Lydia was out of breath from attempting to dodge the irrational mace swings of angry paladins, but she spoke loudly. "I..it's... it's Harald! :Huff!: :Puff!: The-the Miner... in Quicksilver..."
Cura turned around to see the Vigilants approaching Lydia from behind, and rushed forward. "Stop it!" She commanded, causing the Vigilants to lower their weapons. "Lydia is my friend! Leave her alone!" The Vigilants slowly went back to doing their daily tasks.
"You're sure, Lydia?" Cura asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I searched the others. They had nothing at all resembling an Elven Dagger." Lydia proclaimed.
A few Vigilants entered the Hall in that moment, and one quickly went to Cura. "Vigilant Cura! ...Where is the Keeper? We could not find her in Dawnstar."
"She was captured, I fear... and I will get her back!" Cura sighed sadly, though she noticed a paper in one of their hands.. "Have... you discovered any clues?"
"Just this letter." He walked ahead and handed the writ to Cura. When she opened it, a chill went down her spine.
"The door to the temple is finished. Look for two rugs in a crate at the far end of the mine. Walk down the shaft to the dead end. On your right should be a button.
Press it and the door will open."
Cura bit her lower lip. "Temple?"
Moric took the note from her hands and examined it. "Very suspicious. Where did you get this?" He asked the Vigilant.
"Harald the Miner's house." The Vigilant responded. "It was hidden inside of his Pillowcase. I tossed the entire house, cabinets and all to find it."
"Then you have your orders," Moric responded. "send word to the Jarl, for tonight we will raid the Mine, when it is desolated, so as to not harm the workers."
One of the Vigilants bowed forward slightly and quickly ran towards the Town to give word to the Jarl and Town Guard of their upcoming battle, for the sake of Dawnstar, potentially. A minute passed, and Cura cleared her throat.
"But... what if Keeper Carcette is being held there?" Cura asked fearfully. "He could be sacrificing her right now! I'll go! I can save her-just cover me!"
"I have no doubt." Vigilant Tolan said. "A Miner can't be too bothersome."
"He's not working alone." Cura insisted. "He's working with Fenrik! He has to be! Where the Keeper was-there was a trail of blood that led up to the roof of the Inn, and trailed across two buildings and down into the dark mine. A Human could never doo such a feat! It had to be a Vampire."
"Then I'm going as well." Moric insisted. "I... owe it to Carcette. After the stress I'd lain upon her in my selfish days of glory-seeking... I need to make amends for it. Only then will Stendarr show me Mercy. And my old friend is dead because of this fiend! The suffering the Daedra cause shall not go unpunished!"
Tolan nodded in agreement. "Keeper Carcette is a little rigid, and more than a bit overbearing, but I would not wish this upon her. The sun sets upon this day, and the chill of night soon arrives. We must go to Dawnstar quickly."
Cura was the first to run out the door, leading Lydia and several other Vigilants behind her. Preemptively, she pulled Dawnbreaker out, revealing its glow. "This Vampire picked the worst possible time to pull this." She smirked as she ran through the snow, leaving tacks for the others to follow. "FOR THE VIGIL!" Cura cried.
"FOR THE VIGIL!" The others, save for Lydia, responded.
"FOR STENDARR!" Cura cried out.
"FOR STENDARR!" The Vigilants roared in unison as they ran through the white hills and whirling snowstorm, torches raised in the air.
