Morrowind Day 115 - To Mournhold!

7 Evening Star

~~~

I woke this morning at Thirsk at complete loss as to how I was going to spend the day. The only thing I possibly had to do was some menial task related to Raven Rock's construction, so I walked down along the river towards the fort. Surprisingly, there was a message waiting for me there from Arvs Raram, the Master-at-Arms at my Redoran manor. The message was short and urged me to visit as soon as I could, for something important had come up.

The 'something important' was an Ebony dart that one of the ladies of the manor found embedded in the door of the manor-house. My largely Dunmer garrison all suspected that it was a sign that an elite cadre of assassins, the Dark Brotherhood, had a contract on my life. Arvs urged me to speak with a guard to see if the Imperials have had any luck in tracking this elusive group down.

One of the Redoran guards at Ald'ruhn recollected that she had heard an Imperial in Ebonheart named Apellus Matius was working, unsuccessfully, to eliminate the Dark Brotherhood groups in Morrowind. Being my only lead, I was forced to follow it. I returned to the manor to pick up some supplies and walked back to Ald'ruhn so that I could be sent to the Mages Guild in Vivec, then suffered a long, warm, and humid walk down the coast to Ebonheart. 

Apellus assured me that the Dark Brotherhood does not actively operate on Vvardenfell, but that he suspects they operate out of the capital city of Morrowind province, Mournhold. Travel to and from the city was stopped due to the Blight coming from Red Mountain and even with Dagoth Ur gone the city remains shut, except by magical means. Apellus directed me to Asciene Rane about securing a way onto the mainland.

I was expecting something like the rooms of the Mages Guilds, but Asciene sent me to a small room in the Palace with only one other occupant who was, surprisingly, an Argonian named 'Effe-Tei'. Unsurprisingly he was able to send me back to Ebonheart, but I wanted to explore the city first.

Effe-Tei warned me to be careful about who I talked to and what I said. The previous king had recently died and the present king, Helseth, was rather suspected of having a hand in the death. Confusing the matter, Almalexia leads her own Temple guards, the 'Hands of Almalexia', which is causing friction between the two houses of government as they battle for influence. He offered to send me back to Ebonheart, but his warning did not deter me from wanting to explore the city.

I met a man outside the palace willing to serve as a hired blade for 250 Septims, but I was, and remain, confident that I can handle any threat here on the mainland. Continuing to wander, I walked through the gate leading out of the walled palace section of Mournhold and into a large plaza.

With no clue where to go, I simply picked another gate at random and ended up in Mournhold's marketplace and in front of a small portable stage. There were shops behind the stage and I moved around it to inspect the displayed merchandise of an armorer, but a Dunmer behind the stage called out to me as I passed by.

The man was the leader of the little acting troupe and one of his actors seemed to be missing. Bizarrely, he claimed I looked just like his missing actor, which was an obvious lie. Nevertheless, I was asked to play the vacant role and agreed, guessing that I had a few days to study whatever play they were performing. I actually only had two minutes to memorize my lines from a play called "The Horror of Castle Xyr"

I managed to memorize my lines from the first three pages of the play before everyone started rushing to their places to begin the show. I was sure I was about to make a fool of myself, but the play did not last even up to the amount of lines I was ready for. As I was waiting for my next line, a Dunmer in the audience suddenly jumped up on stage with a Daedric sword and attacked me!

He was not a particularly skilled assassin and I dealt with him quickly. The play was obviously ruined, so I returned to the man who conned me into taking the part. He introduced himself as 'Meryn' and admitted that he knew that an assassin was waiting for his lead actor, the man I replaced, to appear on stage. Meryn's actor had recently been caught in an indecent situation with the daughter of a Telvanni, which makes my situation even more ridiculous, unless the assassin thought the daughter had a taste for female Khajiit. Anyway, Meryn paid me two thousand Septims for saving his actor's life and wished me well. A very strange situation, but I am certainly growing used to 'strange'.

A local guard suggested I search the sewers for the Dark Brotherhood if I had a death wish, but as unbelievable as it may sound I felt confident enough about my chances against a group of assassins. Assuming there would be a large number of them, I stopped at a tradehouse in the marketplace and purchased several dozen steel-tipped arrows and a simple long bow.

As soon as I stepped back outside I was being yelled at by a Dunmer, evidently a magic-user of some sort. He was yelling loud enough for the entire marketplace to hear him and announced himself as "Ovis Velas, the great, renowned, respected, and feared wizard". Rather foolishly he declared his ambition to "bring the city to its knees" and then stated he would demonstrate his power immediately on one of Mournhold's own. Of course, he then turned directly towards me, called me an "ugly Khajiit" and attacked. The attack lasted all of about three seconds. Two to pull the spear from the sheath on my back and one to drive it into his chest. The great wizard Ovis Velas was quickly the late, great wizard.

There was a key on the man's body and a thankful bystander helpfully pointed out that there was a manor owned by Mournhold's Velas family in a residential area of the city called 'Godsreach'. I felt my assault against the Dark Brotherhood would go better without another Velas family member flinging magic at my back, so I put off my exploration of the sewers to deal with this unexpected threat.

The key opened the front door to the manor a guard in Godsreach pointed out to me, but inside there was only one Dunmer. Much like his brother, this one started to loudly address me before I could even open my mouth. He made quite the incredulous claim: Ovis Velas was his very unskilled brother who was only trying to pretend to be him, Gavis Velas, for some reason or another. Gavis said he understood my situation in having to defend myself and politely asked that I understand his in avenging the death of his foolish brother...right before he summoned two giant Ogrims into the room.

With no room to maneuver I was sure to be crushed into paste by the hulking Daedra if I played defensively. Instead, I recklessly tried a repeat of my attack on his unfortunate brother, charging straight at him with no regards to the massive scaled hands grasping for me on either side. Flat feet must run in the Velas family, for he was entirely too slow to dodge out of my way or perhaps could not due to the bulk of his summoned minions. The pointed tip of Hircine's oddly shaped spear caught him in the chest and I bore him to the floor, withdrawing only to drive it into his throat. The melee could not have lasted more than six seconds.

As he died his summoned help disappeared in puffs of acrid smoke, including two behind me that I never even knew had been there. Had I not attacked him immediately I would have surely been torn to pieces. He had nothing interesting on him, so I locked the door to the manor behind me as I left. Eventually someone will find the body, but I will probably be long gone from this place by then.

My foray into the sewers should have been more interesting than it was. I met a Khajiit near the marketplace's trapdoor, but she refused to speak with me. Probably Thieves Guild. The other was a Dunmer woman who asked that I keep an eye out for the ghost of her dead husband who had been murdered by a gang operating out of the sewers.

Save for those two the only other inhabitants of the sewers were a few irresponsible summonings, mostly skeletons, and the Dark Brotherhood itself. The latter proved to be something of a disappointment. I was expecting a highly-dangerous assault against a den of experienced assassins and what I found was a small collection of poorly armed individuals occupying two decrepit buildings living more like beggars than elite killers.  

There was at least two dozen Brotherhood members living under the sewers, but most of them were only armed with daggers and short swords. The assassin at the play was better armed than this rabble. The approach to their little compound was long and open from where I had come from, letting me pick off the ones outside with arrows while giving those inside the buildings no warning of my approach. Inside the smaller building were eight assassins, all of them armed with silvered stabbing swords and none of them a match for me and Hircine's spear.

The larger building held fewer assassins, but one of them proved to be a difficult opponent and the source of a valuable piece of information. He had a small scroll in his pocket that specifically named me as a contracted target of the Dark Brotherhood, on the request (and presumably payment) of someone only referred to as "H". Very mysterious and I am not sure I even know anyone whose name begins with an H. Mournhold's new king, King Helseth, comes to mind, but there is no reason why he should want me dead. 

By then it was well into the evening and I had no idea where an inn was, so I distastefully re-entered the Velas manor and am spending the night in the former master's bedroom. I have certainly slept in worse places, but I do not think I will want to be staying here tomorrow.

Morrowind Day 114 - Under Hircine's Eyes

6 Evening Star

~~~

It is a mark of how strange my life has become that today's events do not register as anything but 'slightly unusual'. I suppose I expected it after learning of the Giant's kidnapping, but being woken up by a group of werewolves clutching each of your limbs is quite a startling experience.

It was also a short one, for there was a sudden flash of  red light and I instantly found myself standing in what looked like one of Vvardenfell's Daedric shrines. Still disorientated, I spent a few moments looking around before realizing that I was not alone.

My education on the Daedric Lords is rather spotty, but the man who stood before the only door in the room I instantly recognized as Hircine himself. The Prince appeared before me with the spotted skin of a fawn and wearing only a loincloth, foot wraps, and the large skull of an unfortunate deer. As I approached he summoned a short halberd into his hands, which he idly twirled about as he explained the rules of the Game I had come to anticipate being a part of.

The rules were simple: Behind the door was a series of arenas that the Lord had already sent the other "champions", Captain Carius, Tharsten Heart-Fang, and the Giant Karstaag, through. These arenas were staffed by Hircine's favorite werewolves and I had no doubt they were going to be dangerous opponents, especially given my complete lack of preparation for Hircine's Hunt.

As he disappeared to some deeper part of the place, he warned me that only one of "his" champions would survive the Hunt, implying that I would need to kill the others to proceed. I was dismayed at the thought of having to kill Captain Carius, but curiously felt no such regret for Tharsten, which would prove to be rather observant, as I was to find out.

The Imperial Captain was waiting just inside the first arena and was very happy to see me. He was the first to be summoned to Hircine's arena and fought the werewolves prowling about until he was wounded and forced to fortify a small corner of a wall with rubble while he awaited a friendly face. He offered to join me in fighting our way through Hircine's minions, but the man was obviously pained and I did not think he would survive whatever lay ahead of us.

He agreed to remain in his corner while I worked my way through the werewolf-infested maze. The maze was small, but that worked against me, making it difficult to isolate each werewolf I came across. Several times I would launch an arrow at an unsuspecting enemy, only to have three of them come charging at me, alarmed at the arrow strike on their brethren. I would surely have been overwhelmed had it not been for my silvered spear.

I came across a worn chest towards the center of the circular maze and retrieved a glowing medallion from it. This had the unpleasant effect of turning all of the werewolf ice statues I had been walking by into real werewolves and making my battle back to the Captain just as harrowing as the battle from.

Together the Captain and I worked our way to the center of the maze where we came upon a shimmering gate that only I, the holder of the medallion, could pass through. He said he would guard the gate as I proceeded further into Hircine's arena and that he was sure he could find his own way out. He warned me against both Karstaag and Tharsten, the latter of whose motives he was suspicious of. 

Beyond the gate was another arena, very similar to the one the Captain was still occupying. The Skaal chieftain was apparently waiting for me just inside the gate. He seemed glad to see me as well, but spoke more of Karstaag's lead over him than our cooperation or survival. Nevertheless, the man was stronger than the Captain and unharmed, so I agreed to fight with him to the next gate. Either he would fall to the werewolves or be weakened, for his speech made me certain he would turn on me soon.

Suspicious though he was, Tharsten proved to be a strong warrior and killed four werewolves to my six. But when we found a chest similar to the one from the previous room, he pushed me aside and ran ahead, grabbing the key with a triumphant shout. Curiously, he turned to face me and bragged that the honor of defeating Hircine would fall upon him and revealed that he was in possession of something he called "Hircine's Ring", which had been passed along his family's generations.

With this ring on his finger he felt that the glory of Hircine's Hunt was his birthright and refused any argument against this belief. Eventually he tired of my attempts to persuade him to cooperate and stated that my death during the Hunt would be honored by the Skaal for ten generations. Having said that, he twisted a silver ring on his finger and suddenly became a werewolf!

I was very surprised, but Tharsten gave me little time to think upon this new development. He was in front of me with one leap and a furious melee ensured. My first reaction was the one that probably saved my life: lacking the distance between us to bring my spear to bear, I carelessly shoved my weight against him in an effort to put some space between us. Amazingly this worked and put him off balance for a few moments, which is all I needed.

Standing between two narrow stones, my flanks were secure and he could not get past me. His only option was to strike head-on against the silvered point of my spear. After slaying over a dozen werewolves in Hircine's game, Tharsten proved to be not much of a challenge after all. Perhaps if he had elected to fight me in his human form he would have stood a better chance.

The ring disappeared with a small popping noise, but the key to the next gate remained, so I moved further into the arena, alone.

The next room was not a maze, but a wide open arena in which Karstaag was prowling about. Before today I had never seen a Giant of any kind and I hope to never need to battle with one again. Karstaag was a large, white-furred, horned creature standing at least twice my height, if not more. He moved surprisingly quick for his size, his hands were large enough to envelop and crush me, and his arms likely strong enough to throw me across the room or dash me against the frozen walls.

This match did not seem weighted in my favor.

Our combat turned into a dangerous game of catch: me dashing behind pillars and pieces of rubble to fire arrows and he lumbering after me, throwing the rubble aside and collapsing the pillars. Eventually the trail of blood he was leaving in his wake grew thicker from the increasing number of arrows jutting from his body and he gradually slowed down. When he paused for a moment I rushed forwards with my spear and drove it into his neck with all my strength.

He simply stared down at me and sighed before falling forwards towards me, dead. I barely had enough time to dive out of his way and none at all to retrieve my weapon. The spear shattered with a sharp crack as Karstaag fell upon it and I was left with my bow and short sword, my Daedric spear still at Thirsk.

There was a gate at the far end of the room, but Hircine himself stood before it. I readied myself for what I feared would be a very short battle, but he only asked me a question: What is the hunter's greatest strength: speed, strength, or guile? 

My first instinct was speed, for my own had saved me more times than I could count, but the Daedric Prince would not ask a question merely for his curiosity, so I thought about it a bit. Speed may be my advantage in a fight, but it was guile which ultimately brought down Dagoth Ur, so I decided that would be my answer. 

I had already fought two rooms full of werewolves and one Frost Giant, but I now had to face Hircine and minus my favored weapon at that. I gave him my answer and the battle was on. 

I do not know what difference my answer would have made, but I Hircine fought me as he appeared before me: vaguely man-shaped, with a deer skull helmet (or head, I suppose), and a short pike. Armed only with my Daedric bow and a silvered short sword I picked up from somewhere, I quickly ran away and sought some obstacle to hide behind so that I could safely fire arrows at my opponent.

I cannot say how long our battle lasted. It was one of my most difficult battles, if not the most difficult, that I have ever fought. My encounter with Dagoth Ur is the closest comparison, but I went into that fight well-equipped and rested. I entered this one exhausted from the struggles I had already had, my rest had been interrupted by Hircine's kidnapping, and I lacked the weapon I was most familiar with.

Fighting an enemy armed with a spear when you only have a short blade is a poor idea, but I had always been the one with the spear in that pairing up until today. I was forced to commit to hit-and-run attacks with my bow, but fortunately I had also brought with me to Solstheim three very rare Daedric arrows, all of which I employed against Hircine after exhausting my silvered arrows, none of which seemed to cause him any worry.

Two missed, but the third struck him in the left eyehole of his helm, rending a horrible scream from him that echoed about our frozen chamber. It seemed more in rage than pain, but he dropped his spear in an effort to remove the arrow and I quickly dashed towards him and forced my silvered blade into the right eyehole, admittedly wincing as I did so. I would never perform such a cruel strike against a mortal foe, but I felt a Daedric Prince who delighted in murdering hapless Nords and kidnapping Khajiit could be made to suffer a bit.

Even this was not enough to kill him, but being stabbed five times with his own spear was enough to end Hircine's mortal visitation.

The glowing medallion on his body opened the gate leading out and away from his arena and when I stepped outside I found I was completely surrounded by a wall of ice. I started to walk towards it, intent on seeing if the wall could be scaled, but I took no more than two steps before a bright flash blinded me and a thundering explosion slammed into my chest.

When I could see and breathe again the wall had collapsed in front of me and the underground arena behind me had fallen in on itself. The voice of Hircine sounded in my head, a congratulations on my victory and a promise of his that the Hunt would return again one day. Be that as it may, I hope I am not around to take part in it again.

I was in an area of Solstheim I had not visited before, but the shore was at my back, so I had to be on the western half of the island. After I found the northern shore I knew almost exactly where I had been and confidently and tiredly walked back to the Skaal's village.

Korst somehow knew what had happened before I said anything. He recognized Hircine's spear and told me that it was an extremely rare honor that any mortal should be carrying it, but I was too tired to feel honored, I guess. He asked after the late chieftain and I had not the heart to tell him about Tharsten's betrayal...though I suppose a Skaal might not see what he did as such. Either way, I told Korst that Tharsten fell while bravely fighting a horde of Hircine's best hunters and the shaman was satisfied with that answer. 

I rested in the village for an hour, repairing my equipment as best I could, but I was concerned that Captain Falx had not escaped the collapse and set off along the river, passing by Thirsk on my way south. The weather steadily cleared as I got closer to the southern shore and by the time I reached the coast the sun was bright and the skies were clear, cheering me considerably.

The Imperial Captain had survived his part of the Hunt as well. The troops of Fort Frostmoth were happy to have him back and repairs were finally beginning to the wrecked fort. I was directed to the Captain's chambers where he was recovering and he greeted me with a very surprising hug, something Khajiit certainly are not accustomed to, even among ourselves.

He seemed a bit embarrassed by his show of gratitude and covered it by suggesting I see Carnius Magius about some trouble the East Empire Company was having at the mine. I wished him health and went to speak to the shifty Company man. As expected, he knew nothing, but demanded that I go to site of the new town, Raven Rock, and see what the problem was.

Construction had been proceeding while I was away saving Solstheim from the ravages of Hircine's werewolves. Nothing was completed yet, but several buildings were well on their way.

After this morning's fight the problem at Raven Rock was laughable: a drunk Skaal was brawling with any workers that tried to do any work. A rather exasperated Falco asked me to deal with the Nord, but without killing the man. He and the workers had taken to calling the man 'Hroldar the Strange' and I easily spotted the furious looking Hroldar pacing in front of a half-completed building. He shouted at me, stating that the construction would incur the wrath of Nature and he was the guardian of Solstheim, or something like that.

I had little patience to deal with such foolery and grabbed the man by the throat with one hand while I sent my right crashing into his chin. I think I nearly broke my hand, but the man stumbled backwards and cried out that he had (already) enough. He accepted my demands to leave Raven Rock and thus ended a very short and strange episode of the day.

Falco has some very deep pockets, for he gave me a thousand Septims just for punching a Nord, though I suppose keeping his schedule is worth any amount to him. He asked me to let Carnius know that the construction was resuming.

Contrary to Falco, Carnius was actually disappointed that I did not kill the man, stating that the "natives" need to learn to respect Imperial steel. Quite a bold statement for a man living inside a wrecked fortress following a raid an Imperial garrison could not prevent. He had no further tasks for me today, so I decided to take my rest at Thirsk.

It has been a very long day and I evidently have accomplished a task approaching equality with striking down Dagoth Ur, but it does not feel much like that. Against the mad God I had allies, a plan, and a long road towards my eventual confrontation and victory. Here my foe was unknown until only a few hours before meeting him, I had no allies for most of it, and the conclusion of the Bloodmoon Prophecy ended before I barely knew it had begun.

I just feel confused and tired, but Hircine's spear is mine now for whatever good or evil it may bring me. It is enchanted, though I do not know with what. The future, as it always has been, is cloudy and I do not know what it holds for me. I hope I will be able to dedicate some relatively peaceful days towards the construction of Raven Rock, then perhaps I shall return to Vvardenfell for good.

Morrowind Day 112 - As They Close In

4 Evening Star

~~~

I have completed the latest of Korst's requests, but have only more questions and mysteries than I started with. There is certainly something happening on Solstheim that is invisible to me and I feel that the recent events are being directed by someone or something. A reckoning with this person is closing in day by day as the events are becoming increasingly violent and overt.

The retrieval of the Skaal's totem of 'Claw and Fang' was my first goal today. Korst needed it in order to begin a ritual which he hoped would strengthen the Skaal against the as yet unknown threat looming before all of us. He told me that the totem was in an ancestral tomb of the Skaal, creatively named the 'Tomb of Skaalara'. He assured me that wards placed upon it would keep the tomb free of anything hostile, but I was skeptical of that claim, rightly so as it would turn out.

The tomb was very easy to find, in fact I must have walked by it the other day while I was exploring the small island with the locked door. Recently trampled snow at the entrance warned me to expect something so the attack right inside the entrance came as little surprise.

It fell quickly and I cautiously proceeded further into the tomb, it seeming to be now unguarded. The totem was easy to find, but as I was making my way back out a collection of howls from just ahead of me set my fur on end.

Waiting for me to reach the deepest part of the tomb before springing their trap from the entrance had been surprisingly clever, but their cleverness did not extend to figuring out how best to employ their greater numbers. Instead of encircling me as I would have thought, they simply came at me in ones and twos, the yet-to-be-fought content to watch the demise of their brethren.

Korst was unnerved to hear that the sacred home of the Skaal's ancestors had been assaulted, but assured me that the completion of the ritual for which the totem was necessary, the 'Ristaag', would strengthen the Skaal against this new threat. He also taught me how to summon the Skaal's guardian wolf spirits, but I think what we are up against is beyond the capability of a wolf. Perhaps I shall set one against a Nix-Hound some day.

The 'Ristaag' ceremony was immediately scheduled to start once the moon had risen. I was to meet a much respected hunter named 'Rolf Long-Tooth' who would guide me and two others during the ritual. It was still early in the morning though and I did not have a whole lot to do until nightfall. I still had Louis's coveted amulet and now time enough to go back to Ald'ruhn to deliver it.

Louis was overjoyed to receive the amulet at long last and dropped a very heavy sack of Septims in my hands that I later counted out to 1,500, a hefty sum. Whatever he plans on doing with it must be very important indeed.

I stocked up on supplies before starting back out on the long walk to Khuul, making a point to buy as many arrows as were available. The fort on Solstheim does not stock many and the Skaal expect each hunter to craft his own, so restocking my own supply is, as always, a great challenge on the island.

It was deep into the night when I arrived back on Solstheim and I hurried to meet Rolf Long-Tooth waiting by the lake. I kept my encountered with the wildlife to a minimum by maintaining my water walking spell and traveling atop the small river that fed from Lake Fjalding and found the hunter and two other Skaal, a man called 'Sattir the Bold' and a woman named Grerid Axe-Wife, an hour later.

They were eager to begin and explained that the ritual was fairly simple: Korst had used the amulet I retrieved for him to summon a large bear spirit for the four of us to stalk. Once the beast was slain, we were to return its ethereal heart back to Korst who would offer it to the Skaal's 'All-Maker' for protection against the werewolves.

Things started to go wrong as soon as we began. Despite having just suffered a large attack on their village the Skaal decided to spread out in order to find the bear quicker. I stayed with Rolf, but we had not gone far when a man's scream sounded to the right of us. Rolf sent me to investigate and I did not have to go far to discover Sattir's clawed and mutilated body, the obvious work of werewolves.

Unknown to us, we hunters had been the 'hunted' all along, the werewolves laying in wait to ambush us and disrupt the ritual, for whatever good that may have done. Rolf was more concerned that the ritual would be disrupted than he was with the hunter's death and urged me to follow so that we might quickly find the spirit bear. We had not gone far before another scream startled us, this one from Grerid. Once again Rolf sent me to discover what had happened and I found the woman's body torn to pieces, death no doubt having come mercifully quick. Aware that my guide was unprotected, I hurried back just in time to intercept a group of werewolves loping towards him.

He immediately rushed to my aid and accounted for the defeat of one werewolf to my two. Rolf was determined to finish the ritual, no matter what, and urged me to follow him deeper into the forest after the bear spirit we were to fight.

After the murder of our two companions and the battle against the murderers the spirit bear felt like something of a letdown. To be fair, it was the biggest bear I have ever seen, but it was still just a bear. We slew it with no difficulty and Rolf granted me the dubious honor of carrying the thing's bloody heart back to the village.

For receiving the heart Korst taught me another summoning spell, this one to summon a bear to fight alongside me. I certainly hope a bear would be stronger than a wolf, but the time and effort spent casting the spell in battle would probably be better spent stabbing my enemy.

Things had gotten worse while I was at Ald'ruhn earler in the day. The village's hunters reported that hundreds of the tusked, crawling things the Skaal call 'horkers' are dead with no obvious cause. Their bodies are unmarked, but dead horkers have been washing up on the north shore all day. Ever resourceful, the hunters are slaughtering the fresh corpses and seem content for the tusks and meat, but Korst is concerned that all the recent events are contained within the 'Bloodmoon' prophecy he had mentioned a few days ago.

Rather than explain what this prophecy was, Korst asked me to travel to an isolated castle of ice named 'Karstaag' in which an ice giant, or so he says, resides within. The little blue goblins I have been fighting live in the castle with this giant and Korst wants me to pay a visit in order to determine if the horkers' deaths are due to some work of either the giant or the goblins, or 'Rieklings' as he calls them.

It will be my first assault upon a castle in my life and I can say I am not looking forward to it. Those goblins are fierce fighters by themselves, I do not relish the thought of an entire castle filled with them. Not only that, but I should probably visit Frostmoth to see how the construction of the mining town is doing. The completion of that will ease my burdens here considerably.

Morrowind Day 111 - Kerra, Mead Hall Chieftain

3 Evening Star

~~~

What a day! It started with combat against something that was clearly not a werewolf and ended in my very own Nord mead Hall. I like to think the gains I have made today balance out the drudgery of visiting the Skaal's stones.

My day began two hours after it last ended, the very short nap plus the chaotic events of yesterday lending me more energy than I would have had otherwise. Barred from the Skaal village, it seemed a good idea to eliminate this 'Udyrfrykte' which I had assumed was a werewolf.

It's lair was extremely, and foolishly, close to the Hall itself. I anticipated a long trek and received a ten second walk to the lake where its formerly frozen-shut lair awaited me. It was a very small lair and I could certainly understand why a creature trapped inside of it for any length of time would finally exit quite angrily.

I heard and smelled the creature before I saw it. The unmistakable sounds of bones breaking and the tearing of flesh filled the tiny corridor I was cautiously walking along. When I turned the only corner, I was faced not with a werewolf, but a giant man-like monster with shreds of flesh hanging from its mouth and a gore-stained leg clutched in its hand. I have faced many a foul beast so far, but this thing had the strongest aura of animal rage and violence that I have ever encountered.

Several arrows jutted from its body, no doubt from the former warriors of the drinking Hall. If they were causing the beast any pain it did not show it, balancing itself on two legs and an arm as it loped towards me, swinging the unfortunate Nord's leg in its free hand. If the arrows jutting out of its back gave it any concern, it did not show it. 

I, however, got a much luckier shot than the Nords had. My first arrow went straight into its eye, stopping its charge immediately and my second slammed into its throat, sending it sprawling. I gave it no chance for recovery and leaped upon it immediately, repeatedly stabbing it in the neck with my spear. The beast's thrashings ensured that I was covered in foul-smelling blood, but it was dead. Aware that I needed to bring back proof of my victory (other than a coating of blood), I carved its heart out of its chest, partly for a trophy and partly to ensure it stayed dead.

The rest of the cave was littered with the remains of warriors not as lucky as I. The 'Udyrfrykte' slept on a nest of frozen grasses and skulls and incomplete skeletons, with their weapons and armor nearby, were in every corner.

The Hall was closed for repairs when I returned and I spoke with a Breton bookseller outside who was working on his latest edition of 'Thirsk, A History'. I wonder how much a book like that would really be in demand, but it must keep the man fed somehow. 

Svenja was overjoyed to have the monster's heart dropped into her hands. She declared that the heart would sit on the pedestal of Thirsk and that I had but one more task, as always, to complete before I could be named Chieftain of the Hall.

She asked that I go to 'Hrothmund's Bane' across the stream to the west. By coincidence this was also the place the Ald'ruhn mage, Louis Beauchamp, had said his amulet was to be found in. For her I needed only to touch a large battle-axe that lay within the cavern to receive Hrothmund's blessing. Rare are the opportunities to solve two problems at once, so I readily agreed to Svenja's request.

The cavern was the same one I visited several days ago when it asked me a question before allowing me in. Louis had told me the correct answer was 'Ondjage', so I was permitted entrance today. It was not much larger than the lair of the Udyrfrykte and the giant axe sat embedded in a chunk of rock in the middle of the main chamber.

Following Svenja's instructions I grasped the handle of the axe and proclaimed my intention to become Chieftain of Thirsk. As soon as I finished speaking, the axe glowed and I suddenly had a minor Shield blessing, though I could not determine how strong. I took it to be a sign of Hrothmund's approval and grabbed Louis's amulet, which was right by the axe, as I turned to leave.

I still needed to visit the Fort to see about purchasing a disease cure for the affliction the werewolves put upon me, but it was on my way back to the Hall that I had the strangest stroke of luck. A nearly naked Nord came charging over a small hill at me, screaming and waving a two-handed axe. An arrow sent him tumbling down the hill, dead, and on his body was a flask of disease curative. It smelled okay, so I drank it and instantly the constant itching that has plagued me since the fight disappeared and with it, I hoped, had the disease.

The Hall was open when I returned and Svenja was inside waiting for me, along with two Nords I never met before. They were eager to uphold the sacred rites of Thirsk, both being quite drunk already. Svenja explained that she could run the day-to-day tasks of Thirsk, but it was up to me to direct the clan. I could send my two drunk hunters out into Solstheim to hunt for pelts, I could order mead from Skyrim, and I could also collect whatever profits the Hall made from the sale of that mead.

As we did not have any mead and I strongly doubted the prowess of my huntsmen I asked Svenja to order mead. What happens to it after that is her responsibility. She directed me to my quarters and mentioned that the three of them pooled some of their money to give me a gift, which was waiting in my room. 

The gift was not the snow bear head I had been expecting, but an equally useless Nordic longsword. I stowed it under the bed and went to the guest rooms. The Imperial Cultist prisoner was gone, I suppose she escaped after the  battle in the Hall and the Breton author was in my former room. He presented me with a revised copy of 'Thirsk, A History', which detailed the reigns of all of the mead Hall chieftains. I flipped through it, noting that many had very short rules. It may be best to step down before a Nord wonders why a Khajiit is sitting on the Hall's throne.

I had to see if my disease had really been cured by the wayward Nord's potion, so I walked along the coastline from Thirsk towards the village and took some time to explore a small island that sat just off the beach. I found a locked door, but could see no way of opening it. A mystery for a later time perhaps.

Korst Wind-Eye was able to confirm that the disease of lycanthropy was no longer within me, to my great relief. He named me 'Blood-Skaal', which means I am now a friend of the tribe and fully welcome among them. I was granted a home, my second one of the day, but it was the late Rigmor Half-hand's home and not one I felt comfortable using.

Naturally the shaman had yet another task for me: to complete the Skaal ceremony of 'Ristaag', some sort of cleansing ritual. However, he first needed me to retrieve a magical Skaal totem that is required for the ritual.  This totem of 'Claw and Fang' was in a tomb to the southeast of the village, but I was much too tired to attempt this tonight.

Instead I walked back to Thirsk, past the drunken celebrating Nords and up the stairs to my "quarters", which was really a bigger version of the meager accommodations I was accustomed to at this place. The bed is much better than a pile of furs though and I suppose I will be either traveling back to the Fort tomorrow or taking on the Korst's latest task.

Never any free time and always too much to do.

Morrowind Day 110 - Cat Versus Dogs

2 Evening Star

~~~

My stay at Kolfinna's small river-side cave was short, but pleasant. I only slept for three hours, but she managed to cook up a better breakfast than I usually enjoy and wished me luck as I left, just as refreshed as if I had slept for a full night.

Last night I had completed the Skaal's ritual to prove to them that I was one to be trusted, but my first goal this morning was a visit to Fort Frostmoth to inquire about the colony that one of the Legionnaires had mentioned. Rumors at the fort were that there was to be a mining colony built on Solstheim courtesy of the East Empire Company, but the Company's Factor on the island, Carnius Magius has been either unable or unwilling to make much progress.

An Imperial colony on Solstheim would make my life a great deal easier, Company politics or not. I had spoken to him on my first day on the island, but thought his request that I join the Company was to be some low-paid clerk jotting down figures all day. The rumors of the difficulty he has been having with the colony made me think that I might be of more use to him than as a simple scribe and get the colony on its way at the same time.

Before speaking with Carnius I stopped at the armory to sell the silver daggers I won from the Nordic women the Skaal call 'Fryse Hags'. These women always ambush me by summoning a spirit then charging me with one of the silver daggers. The soldier manning the armory was happy to buy six of the daggers for the healthy sum of 1,500 Septims, making me quite a happy Khajiit.

Carnius made no mention of our previous encounter and restated his offer of employment with the Company. I accepted and was immediately ordered to report to the fort's dock to meet with three miners that required an escort to the colony's Ebony mine.

The three miners were all armed with short blades but admitted that none of them were warriors and were relieved to have an armed escort to the site of the future colony. They need not have been worried, the walk was short and uneventful save for a wolf the three of them would have had no trouble with.

Waiting for us at the site were the two torches I had spotted a few days ago and an Imperial who introduced himself as 'Falco Galnus', a Company man and the one in charge of the every-day responsibilities of the colony. Naturally he had a job for me, but it was a very simple one: find and bring four pieces of raw Ebony back to Carnius as proof to the Company's investors that the colony is worth their money.

This could not have been simpler, the veins of Ebony ore were on the surface along a rock right behind Falco. He could have gotten the four pieces himself with barely more effort than it took to tell me to do it. But I complied and pried four chunks of raw Ebony from the outcropping of rock behind him and walked back to the fort.

Carnius rewarded my meager effort with one hundred Septims and a piece of paper he called a 'stock certificate' which he claimed would somehow increase in value as the colony of Raven Rock became increasingly successful. Each employee of the Company here on Solstheim has one of these papers and can exchange it for coin at any time.

I was told to return in three days to receive more work from the Company and with nothing left to do at the fort I began the long walk back to the Skaal's village to report my success with the Stones. As a reward Tharsten Heart-Fang gave me a large mace that looked to have been carved from a block of ice. It also weighed about as much as a block of ice and I could barely lift the weapon at all, so I gratefully declined the offer stating that the weapon should stay with the Skaal, not with a Khajiit whose travels might take her very far from this place. This excuse was accepted with a nod and a smile, it is likely the Nord knew I could not wield it to begin with.

The Skaal chief also had another test for me, this one of wisdom which involved me investigating a crime that someone was accused of in the village. A well-liked warrior named 'Engar Ice-Mane' stood accused of stealing valuable furs from fellow villager 'Rigmor Halfhand'. I was to question the two of them and figure out if the accusation had merit.

I first spoke to the accused. Engar had not much to say in his own defense, but expressed surprise that Rigmor would accuse him so, as he had been a friend of Engar's and Engar's wife for a long time. As soon as he said "wife" I had an inkling of what I was going to be uncovering and I was not wrong.

Rather than speak to Rigmor next and hear his useless denials I sought Engar's wife, Risi Ice-Mane to see if I could cut to the heart of the matter. She confessed that she and Rigmor had, in her own words, "spent some time together", but she told me that she had thought their involvement with each other to be over. She asked that I speak to Rigmor on her husband's behalf.

Rigmor proved to be far less crafty than I anticipated. He spoke of Engar as an uncaring man who abandons his wife for weeks at a time so that he could hunt, but then spoke glowingly of how much better a husband he would be for Risi. Not a subtle man. When I confronted him about his brief affair he crumbled and admitted that the accusation was not true and that he thought Engar would have chosen immediate exile rather than death, with only the latter receiving any investigation at all.

He bore his guilt bravely and asked to be escorted to Tharsten for judgement. However, judgement was not Tharsten's to render, but mine. The chief explained that I could choose either exile for Rigmor or death by the spirit wolves of the Skaal. Exile would erase the man from existence so far as the Skaal were concerned and prevent the man's soul from being granted rest after he died. The wolves were actually spirits that would be summoned for this occasion and would kill Rigmor quite quickly. This was described as an 'honorable' death and one that would erase the stain his deceit had wrought upon him.

I had to choose immediately with no counsel and chose the wolves for Rigmor because that was what had awaited Engar if Rigmor's plan had succeeded. Tharsten commended my choice and praised the mercy I was showing the man by letting him die in combat. For this apparently wise decision, I was gifted again, but at least the wolf head helmet I was given is light enough for me to carry.

With my reputation among the Skaal boosted, I made a second attempt to purchase supplies from the village smith. This one was more successful and I even managed to bargain off the rest of the witches' silvered daggers off on the armorer, greatly enriching me and lightening my inventory considerably.

But Tharsten had yet another test for me. I had passed the Test of Loyalty and the Test of Wisdom, now I was to take on the Test of Strength, which admittedly is not something Khajiit are generally known for.

He directed me towards the lake where the shaman Korst Wind-Eye would meet me. I had a pretty good idea of what the test involved when I got close enough to the lake to notice a huge pillar of fire shooting up out of it.

Korst was warily watching the flame and waved me over as I approached. He said that the chief suspected the flame was due to a powerful Draugr wizard that was buried under the lake, but Korst feared that the flame was the herald of something called the 'Bloodmoon Prophecy', which I have never heard of before. He would not say much about it, only that the Prophecy would mean that wolves would walk like men and devour the inhabitants of Solstheim. Quite a grim business, but I had a very cold swim ahead of me underneath a column of fire.

Once I was underwater and under the flame, I could see that there was a mound of earth at the bottom of the lake and a shimmering magical shield covering an entrance. This was the Draugr wizard's home and one he evidently sought to keep dry. The barrier permitted no water to pass through, but I had no such difficulties.

Save for its location there is not much to say about the place. The usual undead Nords and skeletal wolves patrolled the place, but attacked singly and were easily killed.

Far more interesting was the Draugr Lord himself, a former wizard named Aesliip and his story was quite a sad one, if true. 

He had been a powerful sorcerer among the Skaal in his time, many centuries ago. But he grew too curious for their liking and was cast out, exiled forever from his own people. Undeterred, he continued his research and discovered that Daedra had somehow formed or collected or traveled to this cave so that they might rise up from the lake in secret and ambush the Skaal, wiping them from existence. 

Aesliip returned to his people to warn them, but he had been exiled and his words may not have even been heard at all. So he returned to this ancient cavern and erected a barrier that would keep the Daedra from leaving the underwater cavern. This he did for many years, but eventually he grew old and knew the Daedra would run free as soon as he died.

So he used the knowledge he had to transform himself into Draugr, but without losing his mind and his powers. He asked for me to join him in venturing further into the cave to defeat the Daedra and finally end their threat to Solstheim. I was moved by his story of sacrifice and agreed to accompany the Draugr wizard. 

It was good of me to do so. The man may not have been a giant in his day, but his transformation gifted him a great deal of strength. Our opponents were all very powerful Frost Daedras, but a punch or kick from him sent them reeling.

Together we defeated all of the Daedra and he was relieved of his undeath, finally finding the peace he had spent so much time maintaining for an island that had just about forgotten him entirely. He granted me his ring, but I cannot tell what it is enchanted with.

Korst was pleased to see me return and was surprised that I had not killed Aesliip, but after I explained he doubled his thanks and called me a true Skaal, asking me to go on ahead and report to Tharsten what had occurred.

The walk from the lake was a quick one and I had just started speaking to the chief when one of the village warriors burst into the Hall, yelling that they village was under attack by werewolves.

I have heard tales of lycanthropy while in Cyrodiil, but never encountered anyone afflicted by it. I do not know much about the disease itself, save for that it is seen as a "blessing" from the Daedric Prince Hircine. I have heard stories of werewolves, but also of werebears and wereboars and even werecrocodiles, though the latter seems too strange and unwieldy to be true. The one thing they all are said to have in common is a weakness to silvered weapons, such as the spear I have been carrying around with me for the past month alongside the Daedric one.

I ran out of the Hall and nearly right into the claws of a werewolf.

It was a powerful opponent, but curiously not very agile in combat. The rumors of being weak to silver might be true: for the werewolf became reluctant to come very close so long as I kept poking at it with the spear. While I was busy with my opponent, the Skaal village was fighting back the wave of werewolves quite well and by the time my own had been dispatched, they had accounted for three of the creatures themselves. 

Rather than help them eliminate the rapidly declining invasion force, I went back into the Hall only to find the same situation as what befell the Imperial fort: Tharsten was gone and the Hall's guards were dead. Three werewolves were still sniffing about when I entered the Hall and quickly it became a game of Khajiit-versus-dogs, with my spear and agility winning the day.

Korst Wind-Eye was waiting for me outside after I had made sure the Hall was clear of invaders. He thanked me once again for protecting the Skaal and delivered some very unfortunate news: his magic indicated that I had been infected by one of the werewolves. Left alone, the disease will turn me into a were-something, likely mindless and hungering after flesh. 

The shaman certainly appeared confused as to why his news was not greeted with dismay on my part. To be honest, I am not concerned. As he said, I have three days to find a cure and I am far more curious as to how I became infected since I am supposed to be immune to disease thanks to Dagoth Ur's "blessing". It is no matter I suppose, so long as I find a cure before three days pass.

Until I am cured I am not allowed to stay at the village for fear of infecting others. I decided to visit Thirsk to get some rest, but when I arrived I found that they had fared little better than the Skaal had.

The sole survivor, a young Nord named 'Svenja', told me of a great black creature that suddenly stormed the Hall and slew everyone after a short, but vicious battle. I thought it might have been a werewolf, but Svenja is convinced that the monster is a creature the Nord call the 'Udyrfrykte'. The melting of the lake's ice due to the great flames likely melted this Udyrfrykte's icy prison, freeing it to cause death and mayhem on Solstheim. Svenja pleaded with me to defeat the monster before others were killed. She offered to turn over the Hall itself to me should I return with a trophy of my hopefully successful combat against whatever the monster was.

Infected as I was, I accepted the task so that the Hall would remain open, under my watch or someone else's. The Nords of Thirsk had been oddly accepting in their own way and my little room upstairs had eased my requirement to travel back to the Fort to rest at the end of the day. Simply leaving the place wrecked as it was would have been unjust and ungrateful.

But by then it was already well into the morning of 3 Evening Star. I have fought almost continuously since waking up at Kolfinna's yesterday, but a quick nap will have to suffice. The murderer of Thirsk awaits me, as does the cure for my transformation disease. More and more the island is becoming a strange reflection of its larger sibling and I do wonder who will be standing in for Dagoth Ur this time around.

Morrowind Day 106 - Further Lessons Learned

29 Sun's Dusk

~~~

Life continues to impart lessons upon me in a very painful way. I woke this morning full of confidence that I could make a lot of progress today and I am going to bed only further convinced that sinking Solstheim to the bottom of the sea would only be an improvement.

The morning started as they have been as of late: on a pile of bear furs in a tiny wooden room in a house staffed entirelly with drunken Nords. I cannot begin to imagine how a Khajiit straight out of Elsweyr would have dealt with it.

The Wind Stone was my first task of the day and the only one that did not cause me any grief. I passed the Beast Stone while on my way and the Stone is still emitting light and the Good Beast was placidly gnawing on some berries nearby. I wonder how long he (or she) is planning on staying there.

Further up the river I came across a couple clearly enamored with one another. Both were Nords, the man was fully armored in the typical way of this island and the woman seemed content to wear heavy fur clothing. Both were staring at each other, apparently to the exclusion of anything around them. Neither of them seemed much of a threat, so I approached and cautiously asked what they were doing.

The man replied that he and the woman shared a love that his wife would never understand and the woman merely asked me to gaze upon the man's masculine visage. The meeting between the three of us seemed rather surreal considering how dangerous the wilderness has been for me, but the couple simply wished me a safe day and I moved on, leaving the two of them behind.

Naturally it started to snow as I grew close to the Wind Stone and soon I was stumbling through a blizzard that suddenly whipped up and reduced my vision to barely an arm's length ahead of me. Truly the Blight Storm of Solstheim. The storm eased a bit when I judged myself very close to the Stone and I merely had to contend with a heavy snowfall by the time I actually reached it.

The Wind Stone reacted to its demand being met in the same way the Beast Stone did. Approaching the Stone caused it to glow and begin emitting small baubles of light and I had to satisfy myself with that reward.

I began this meandering quest from the Stone closest to the Skaal's village and the Stones made a sort of circle around the entire island. Visiting the Wind Stone after the Beast Stone put me on a westward path which eventually curled around Fort Frostmoth and to the southeast peninsula where the Sun Stone sat. With the exception of the Tree Stone, all of the Stones on my map are marked either along or at the end of rivers and the Tree Stone sits between two of them anyway. I have not seen any fish in the running water I have peered into, but the waterways were apparently important enough to someone in the past. Perhaps it was possible to use small boats at one point. It would certainly be preferable to walking around this place.

The Water Stone was next and was marked as sitting near a small river on the west coast, near some large hills. A crude road snaked past the Wind Stone and I followed it heading west hoping against all expectations that it would lead directly to the Water Stone. It did not.

What it did lead to was very mysterious. The road died out at the foot of a large hill which had a cavern built into it at the very top, if the furs covering the entrance is any indication. A huge snow-white wolf was prowling at the entrance, but my Daedric weaponry made short work of it.

Attempting to move the furs aside brought forth a loud yell from within the cave, asking me what the name of the wolf the Nords called 'Hrothmund's Bane' was. I had no idea and I did not want to risk the ire of whatever Nord was inside challenging me, so I yelled back that I did not know the wolf's name and that I was therefore leaving. As I turned around the voice smugly informed me that I was allowed to come back and try again, if I wanted.

While circling around the hill I was charged by two of the blue pig-riding goblins. The melee very quickly turned into my scramble up a steep hillside while the two stout warriors tried goading their mounts up the hill. The amulet of levitation that I brought with me was of little actual help, for there was nowhere to levitate to that they would not be able to reach me at.

Recklessness was the order of the day and I charged back down the hill, managing to knock one of the goblins off his mount as I hurdled past. The goblin proved to be a lot less threatening once dismounted and he expired before his confused mount and mounted partner could turn on me. The furry pigs are fair warriors on their own and I took quite a few jabs of its tusks before I pinned it into the snow with my spear, leaving only mounted goblin left. He had failed to take advantage of my distraction with the pig creature, apparently unsure as to whether he should flee or attack. By the time he made up his mind it his would-be advantage had been lost and he and his mount fell quickly.

The Water Stone was much easier to find than the Wind Stone had been, as it appropriately faced the water. Its task was an easy one, but strange: I first had to seek an island west of the stone and seek something called the 'Swimmer' who would lead me to the 'Water of Life'. The Stone was already on the shore and the only thing west of it was a collection of large rocks jutting out from the shore, so I headed there, not sure as to what I was looking for.

I certainly would never have guessed my guide was to be a black-furred version of the fat crawling things that seem to infest Solstheim's waterways. Like the Good Beast, it seemed content to crawl about its small isle until it saw me, at which point it made a barking noise and jumped into the sea. It was obvious I was to follow, but swimming in the icy waters would have been the death of me. I had two choices: Water Walk behind it or attempt to follow it via the coastline. I chose to Water Walk and hopefully have enough magicka to get me back to the coast at the end of the creature's journey.

My hope of not getting wet was dashed when our trip ended in what seemed like the middle of the sea. I could only barely make out the outline of a metal door set into the water below, making a dive into the ocean a very unwelcome requirement. 

The underwater door opened to a water-filled tunnel, but I had enough energy to use my water-breathing spell, ruining my plan to walk back to the coastline after all this. The tunnel eventually led to a small alcove with a lonely skeleton and a collection of potions. I dispatched the skeleton without any trouble and spotted an ornate silver flask sitting among  the plain vials of some spoiled elixir. I guessed correctly that it was the 'Water of Life' that the stone sent me to collect.

Swimming out of the cave, I immediately headed towards the closet shore, some distance away from the Stone. I encountered nothing along the coastline though and thanks to Azura's gift covered the distance fairly quickly.

Approaching the stone resulted in bubbles floating out and up along the Stone, popping as they began to drift away. And so the Water Stone was satisfied.

Three stones remained and the next was to be the Earth Stone, almost directly south of the Water Stone. The land turned from snow back to tough grass and tall trees and my foes changed from pig-riding goblins to bands of hostile Nords. I spied three of them making camp across a small river and tried to sneak by them, but I was spotted and all three jumped into the water, swimming towards me. I cannot understand why they did something so stupid, but not one of them made it to my side of the riverbank and the arrow-filled bodies drifted gently with the current and eventually out to sea.

When I reached the Earth Stone I was told to travel northeast and seek the 'Cave of the Hidden Music' so that I might learn the 'Song of the Earth'. If experience is any guide, the cave will be full of undead Nords and wolves, nothing I felt I was up to dealing with at the end of the day.

Instead I Recalled back to Ald'ruhn once again, this time to purchase alchemy ingredients so that I can grind my own potions of healing and restoration when I am on Solstheim. If it were not so hostile a place I would say the island is begging for some sort of settlement, but I fear such an enterprise is doomed to fail in the face of the difficult environment. 

Tomorrow I hope to complete my business with the Stones, but that may be reaching for a bit too much. At the very least I expect to complete the rituals for the Earth and Tree Stones, leaving but one Stone for the next day. This task has been very difficult and dangerous, but also invaluable for teaching me what to expect from the island.

Morrowind Day 105 - Nord Cultists

28 Sun's Dusk

~~~

Today was something of an embarrassment for me. Too much of it was spent correcting mistakes I made during the previous days and too little of it was spent moving forwards with any one of my many tasks on Solstheim.

I replaced breakfast with a splash of water on my face this morning, eager to see my small home in Ald'ruhn again and re-equip myself for this dangerous island. My enchanted amulet, certainly the most prized possession I have, made the trip back to Vvardenfell a quick one.

The spear and dagger enchanted to summon their Daedric counterparts were on the top of my list, but I also wanted to bring the actual Daedric weapons sitting in my manor to the north.. I thought initially to bring the Daedric bow as well, but archery has been the only aspect of combat with which I have not been having issues, so it remains my stronghold.

It was gratifying to see a clear sky when I left the house, perhaps my theory that the Blight storms need to lose their power gradually has some truth to it. Before starting my walk to the manor I stopped at the Fighter's Guild to purchase as armorer's hammers. I have no great skill in repair, so I bought as many as I considered reasonably, assuming that I would wear out many of them to little effect.

From the manor I took my Daedric spear, dagger, and a rare short slashing blade favored by the Bosmer, as well as a few more armoring hammers and an amulet enchanted to help me blend in to my environment. No Blight storm harassed me on the walk to Khuul and I reached the village just before noon. Fortunately S'virr was already there, saving me the trouble of having to either loiter at the village or attempt a walk across the sea.

The boat trip was just as grueling as the first time was and I set foot on the island well after dark, still with a long walk to Thirshk to survive. On my way there I had several interesting encounters.

The first of these was with a Nord who kept to the high standards set by the Ashlander bandits of Vvardenfell by immediately charging me with a dagger in her hand as soon as she saw me. My Daedric slashing blade made very short work of the woman whose dagger was silvered and probably of local manufacture. She might have been one of the 'snow witches' the soldiers have been warning me about.

Further on I came upon something even stranger. I heard the sound of many people chanting in some strange language as I worked my way towards the river and I crested a hill to see a very odd sight: Cavorting among the trees were a group of Nords, some of them without clothes, several wolves, and one of the plant-creatures. The clothed Nords were armed and armored and the four of them seemed to be on the watch for anything that would disturb whatever this was. The naked ones clenched daggers in their hands, but paid no attention to anything but spinning and jumping and occasionally yelling at the sky. The wolves and the plant-creature did nothing at all, but cooperatively remained within the group of Nords as they jumped and twirled around them.

As how these things usually go, one of the Nords spotted me and the entire group, Nords, wolves, and the plant-creature, sprang at me. I was some distance away however and managed to kill all of the wolves with arrows before they reached me. The naked cultists were next to tumble to the ground riddled with arrows, but by then the plant-creature and the Nord guards were on me. My decision to bring the Daedric spear was an excellent one and they fell quickly, the plant-creature three times.

I could find no hint as to what the group was doing or why. More curious is how the Nords managed to survive the cold without wearing anything, for I found no discarded clothes to suggest their state had been a recent one. I know I am cold all the time on this island, it makes me almost long for the hot, choking stink of the Dwemer ruins.

The remainder of my walk to the mead hall of Thirsk was surprisingly without event. I was welcomed as heartily as I ever have been and my bedroll was still available. My first task tomorrow must be to re-visit the Wind Stone, complete the ritual, and move on to the next one. I shall also start to look into the fate of the mage's lost airship. I feel a great deal more confident with my new assortment of equipment and hope to make a great deal of progress tomorrow so that I can make up for the complete lack of today's.