15 Sun's Dusk
~~~
The east side of Vvardenfell has always struck me as rather less "visited" by the Empire compared to the west. Imperials are not often seen at the Telvanni outposts and the other races are represented only as mercenaries or the occasional trader. As for Argonians and Khajiit, it is best not to dwell upon their fate.
Today has given me several reasons to think upon the negative aspects of the Telvanni's domination, chiefly the frequency of Daedra I encountered today. On my last stay in the area I thought they may have been the result of the Sixth House loosing them to sow chaos, but now it's far more likely they are simply the result of errant experiments, though no less dangerous for it.
While walking from Tel Mora, I had to fight not just one Daedra, but four: three powerful Golden Saints and one of the winged Daedra. I tested my prowess against these formidable opponents by deigning to use my spear, instead engaging all three of them with my typically unused silvered stabbing sword. It felt nice to be fighting with a light, maneuverable weapon, but if I am to use a blade against opponents such as these in the future, it will have to be stronger than silver-plated steel. My restoratives were sufficient to refresh me between combat, but the battles dragged on far too long with the sword.
The average Imperial soldier would not have fared well against any one of the Daedra in single combat, but the preferred tactic is to engage Daedra with a mixed unit of troopers, archers, and mages, at least a dozen strong. I do feel somewhat satisfied at dispatching enough Daedra for fifty soldiers, even if they were each alone.
I had previously stayed mostly to the coast when I was last here visiting the Zainab tribe, so I changed my plans a bit and ventured into unexplored territory south of their camp. The area is surprisingly vibrant for being so close to Red Mountain and there are trees that grow so high that the eye can barely see the leaves at the top. It is an interesting sight, one perhaps unique to the area.
I reached Falensarano fortress just after noon without being assaulted by any more Daedra. Until today, this fortress had managed to escape my visitation, but the site's location at the mouth of the southern ash-land marks it as a valuable stopping point should I be called to Molag Amur, as the region is named.
Far more accustomed to bandits and the Sixth House's monstrous garrisons, the enemies within Falensarano surprised me. For one, the upper level of the fortress was empty save for a single Nord who has taken up residence in one of the larger rooms there. I heard him talking to himself as soon as I stepped inside the fortress and followed his voice intending to strike him down with the aid of my invisibility spell.
Fortunately, something about his mannerisms, plus his lack of armament, gave me reason not to be so bloodthirsty and he greeted me jovially while I trained my spear at his throat. He had come to pillage the ruin, only to find that a group of witches had beaten him to the fortress, killing the previous occupants and using the lower level as their summoning chamber. He was able to slay their summoned Daedra, but reached a compromise with them that leaves the upper floor all to himself. An odd arrangement, especially for a Nord to make with magic-users.
I had no such arrangement and their presence complicated my own plans, so naturally I needed to pay them a visit...and fight more Daedra. I was immediately set upon by a Golden Saint Daedra wielding a glass halberd when I entered the lower level, but I kept with my short sword and easily got inside the reach of the cumbersome polearm.
The witches' lavish bedrooms indicated they had been at the fortress for some time and it was well garrisoned by a variety of Daedra, a Daedroth and two Clannfear fell before I even met a single witch, but I eventually surprised one studying in her bedroom. How she failed to hear the combat that had been raging in the room next to hers, I'll never know. She summoned a Bonewalker, which has long since ceased to be a threat and she foolishly rushed me with a dagger alongside her summoned creature. She had nothing of much value on her aside from her clothing, which was very finely made...and useless to me.
There were three others, all dressed in similar finery and all equally foolish. There was nothing of value in the whole place, save for a Dwemer spear I won in combat from a Dremora. The fortress is now clear and I should be able to safely use it in the future, at least until some other group decides to take up residence. The Nord, whose name I wound up never getting, was pleased to hear that the witches were gone, for he confessed that their summonings made it difficult for him to sleep. I gifted the man five hundred Septims and asked him to stay as a sort of unofficial guard. He seemed happy enough with this.
It was late into the night when I walked back outside and I did not look forward to walking back to the Zainab camp across the Daedra-infested plain. So now I'm in the brightly lit Propylon chamber with a magical lock on the door, preparing to sleep on the stone floor. I have heard bards sing of the many comforts of adventuring, but I have yet to experience such a thing. Somewhere south of here is the dagger that Mehrunes Dagon asked me to find and I shall attempt to find it tomorrow.
Fortunately, something about his mannerisms, plus his lack of armament, gave me reason not to be so bloodthirsty and he greeted me jovially while I trained my spear at his throat. He had come to pillage the ruin, only to find that a group of witches had beaten him to the fortress, killing the previous occupants and using the lower level as their summoning chamber. He was able to slay their summoned Daedra, but reached a compromise with them that leaves the upper floor all to himself. An odd arrangement, especially for a Nord to make with magic-users.
I had no such arrangement and their presence complicated my own plans, so naturally I needed to pay them a visit...and fight more Daedra. I was immediately set upon by a Golden Saint Daedra wielding a glass halberd when I entered the lower level, but I kept with my short sword and easily got inside the reach of the cumbersome polearm.
The witches' lavish bedrooms indicated they had been at the fortress for some time and it was well garrisoned by a variety of Daedra, a Daedroth and two Clannfear fell before I even met a single witch, but I eventually surprised one studying in her bedroom. How she failed to hear the combat that had been raging in the room next to hers, I'll never know. She summoned a Bonewalker, which has long since ceased to be a threat and she foolishly rushed me with a dagger alongside her summoned creature. She had nothing of much value on her aside from her clothing, which was very finely made...and useless to me.
There were three others, all dressed in similar finery and all equally foolish. There was nothing of value in the whole place, save for a Dwemer spear I won in combat from a Dremora. The fortress is now clear and I should be able to safely use it in the future, at least until some other group decides to take up residence. The Nord, whose name I wound up never getting, was pleased to hear that the witches were gone, for he confessed that their summonings made it difficult for him to sleep. I gifted the man five hundred Septims and asked him to stay as a sort of unofficial guard. He seemed happy enough with this.
It was late into the night when I walked back outside and I did not look forward to walking back to the Zainab camp across the Daedra-infested plain. So now I'm in the brightly lit Propylon chamber with a magical lock on the door, preparing to sleep on the stone floor. I have heard bards sing of the many comforts of adventuring, but I have yet to experience such a thing. Somewhere south of here is the dagger that Mehrunes Dagon asked me to find and I shall attempt to find it tomorrow.
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