Morrowind Day 86 - Along the Northern Shore

9 Sun's Dusk
~~~

Previous to today I have already spent enough time in the northern wasteland to know the chances of finding anything was pretty slim. The air was so humid and foggy this morning that even the sun had no hope of burning any of it away. It just hung in the grey sky, stoically illuminating what it could.

The trip was unpleasant enough with the weather, so I count myself fortunate that I ran into no trouble between Gnisis and the camp of the Urshilaku tribe. The stone walls of the foyada forced me to briefly walk across the water past the wrecked ship I explored some time ago. I could not remember if there was anything useful inside, so I passed it by.

Owing to being on the other side of the hills, the weather was remarkably clear on east bank of the foyada, giving me an excellent view of the Daedric ruin the Urshilaku built their camp near so as to test their warriors. Personally I think living so close to such a place is foolish, but the Ahemmusa follow the same practice, so it must make more sense to the Ashlanders.

Clear weather or no, there was no mistaking the lumbering bulk of the Ogrim shambling back and forth in front of the ruined shrine. This was only the third one I have so far encountered on Vvardenfell and it was far enough away that I decided to try using my short bow to fire steel arrows at it so as to see how effective my 'simple' weapons are against Daedra.

My bow was very effective against the lumbering giant, mostly due to it being near impossible to miss such a large target. I was able to shoot the lighter weapon much quicker than my Daedric bow and the creature quickly found that knees full of arrows makes for an uncomfortable walk. Thus crippled, the Ogrim fell to a well-placed thrust of my spear. 

I surprised a Clannfear Daedra in much the same way, but I could only fire two arrows before it was upon me. The battle felt almost routine and it was over quickly. It is sobering to think that just three months ago a duo of Nix-Hounds posed a considerable threat and now I fight Daedra and their Dremora cousins with a regularity that would have terrified most of the Auxiliaries. It may be a swampy and dusty wasteland, but Vvardenfell is an effective, and harsh, teacher.

The Urshilaku welcomed me as one of their own, eagerly purchasing my spare ingredients and equipment I have been liberating off of my unfortunate foes. They got great deals owing to the combination of my desire to lighten my inventory and their light purses and slim inventories. I sold a battle axe crafted in the Orcish style for just over two hundred coins, though I could have gotten at least five times the price in Balmora or Ald'ruhn. But weight is a formidable enemy in the wastelands and the axe was doing me no benefit other than to smack me in the leg every third step.

A dust storm had kicked up while I was busy enriching the Urshilaku tribe and I was completely engulfed in dust after I left the trader's tent. I knew my progress was going to be very slow as long as the storm continued, but I planned on retreating to the coast if the storm was too bad inland.

One advantage of the ash wastes is that the hostile wildife generally finds the area just as unpleasant and I generally do not encounter many creatures. I did pass by the desiccated corpse of a long-dead Silt Strider, but found little else of interest outside.

My only find today was of an ancestral tomb overlooking the shore just before the Daedric ruin near the Ahemmusa tribe's campsite. I investigated the tomb and had a surprising encounter with a Dunmer woman who claimed to be the 'apprentice' of the Ahemmusa wisewoman. She rudely rebuffed my inquiries and demanded that I leave her alone and flee the tomb immediately. I did so only because it would be very easy to verify the woman's claim. If I find that she lied, she will be receiving a much ruder visit from me in the future.

I reached the Ahemmusa's tiny camp just as the sun began to set. While I am acknowledged as the Nerevarine, I am simply not as comfortable among the Ahemmusa as I am with the Urshilaku who I am more familiar with, or the Zainab, who are more genial and accepting of outsiders. I exchanged enough words with the wisewoman to be polite and asked about renting a sleeping mat for the night. She offered one of her own, which I have accepted with some trepidation.

I am not sure what my goal is tomorrow. Logic dictates a turn south towards Sadrith Mora, but there are the Telvanni islands to the north that I have yet to explore fully. Perhaps I shall flip a coin after breakfast.

Morrowind Day 60 - The Ahemmusa

13 Frost Fall

~~~

I spoke with Sul-Matuul as early as it was polite to do so. His face characteristically betrayed no hint of his thoughts as I  explained what I had witnessed, but he accepted my story as truth. He cautioned that the word would soon spread of my feat and that the Great Houses and especially the Temple would not look upon my being named Nerevarine by the Ashland tribes. He advised that if I had any business with them that I take care of that before talking to the other two tribes. Good advice, but I have no desire to involve myself with House Redoran any further, at least not right now.

He also told me to talk to Nibani about the ways of the other tribes so that I could approach them without making mistakes and wasting time. As Ashkhan of the Urshilaku tribe, he was empowered to name me Nerevarine, but he insisted on giving me a small speech about 'need' and 'duty' beforehand. The 'need' was to destroy Dagoth Ur's Sixth House, to expose the Tribunal as false gods, and to show Nerevar's ring as proof of Azura's favor. These were not needs that I really needed to be told about, but perhaps Sul-Matuul was feeling appreciative over his role as the facilitator of the Nerevarine Prophecies.

As for duty, he merely repeated what Nibani had been telling me: that I must defeat Dagoth Ur and free the false gods from their guilt. Having said what he needed to say, Sul-Matuul formally named me Urshilaku Nerevarine. His final gift to me was a carved stone amulet he called the 'Teeth of the Urshilaku', which he said would serve as proof of the Urshilaku Tribe's naming of me.

As for the other tribes, his opinion was not high. He  described the the Erabenimsun Tribe as a collection of brutes, badly led and more a mob than a tribe. His advice was to forsake the Ashkhan entirely and talk directly with the tribe's wise-woman. According to Sul-Matuul, my arrival into their camp would likely result in the violent removal of the current Ashkhan in favor of one more in favor with the wise-woman. Good to know.

Ahemmusa Tribe are their mirror opposites. The tribe largely consists of peaceful guar herders and do not wage war against any of the other tribes, nor do they bear much animosity towards outlanders. However, the revival of the Daedric cults have corralled the tribe on to a narrow peninsula and the tribe's lack of warrior culture has led to a lack of warriors to keep the tribe safe. 

Sul-Matuul saved the greatest amount of contempt for Zainab Tribe. He described them as a tribe of 'coin-obsessed merchants' and revealed that they actually owned an ebony mine somewhere inside the Ghostfence. This is interesting news, as it implies a level of stable living possible within what I consider to be Dagoth Ur's realm. 

Nibani recommended that if I was set on speaking to the tribes right away, that I go to the Ahemmusa first, as they are the shortest distance from the Urshilaku and in the most dire need of assistance, be it from the Nerevarine or anyone else. She recommended discarding my Daedric weapons before visiting the tribes, as she felt the tribes would look unfavorably towards the Nerevarine wielding Daedra-infused arms.

My feelings on that matter were, and still is, mixed. Knowing what I do about the history of the Dunmer people, I could see how the Daedric weaponry could be seen as a negative. But on the other side, the weapons are far stronger than anything else I have and a dead Nerevarine does no one any good. In the end, I wound up leaving them at my house in Ald'ruhn, but again I am getting a little ahead of the day's events.

However, my recent adventures had depleted my inventory of useful items and saddled me with things of questionable utility. So rather than immediately journey to the tribe, I used my last scroll of Divine Intervention to pop back to Gnisis. From there it was a short walk across the river to Berandas and therefore, Caldera.

I purchased a fair quantity of restoratives at the Caldera Mages Guild and teleported to each of the Guilds to buy more potions and to sell off the treasure I had picked up from the Sixth House bases. The House amulets, taken from the Sixth House priests, were especially valued. I finished my rounds at the Ald'ruhn guild and walked home. Everything was just as I left it and I took the time to place what I did not want to carry or sell carefully, for you never know when something may have a use later.

The Bonemold bow Sul-Matuul had me fetch from the Urshilaku burial cavern is one of those things. I did not throw it away or sell it out of respect for the tribe, but now that I am switching to lighter, more 'native' weapons, it has saved me the trouble of having to buy one. Plus, using an Urshilaku bow may help me in my relations with the tribes.

Similarly, Erur-Dan's chitin spear that I was given in the Cavern of the Incarnate has replaced my reliable, and heavy, Daedric spear. Strange as it may sound, I feel just as confident without the Daedric weaponry as I did with them. The weight of the Daedric equipment has strengthened me more than I realized, for I feel light as a feather with my simple bow and spear and I am vastly more skilled than I used to be. 

An hour or so was spent doing what I could with the many alchemy ingredients I had collected. My skill at potion-crafting is probably never going to be great and I wasted a great deal of what I had. But as the afternoon rolled around I had a collection of useful, if somewhat weak, potions made by my own hands.

Home

My last stop was Balmora, first to the Razor Hole to buy some silvered arrows and have my Dreugh (Ashlander approved) armor repaired, then to Nalcarya's. I bought a few potions I could not find at the Mages Guilds, but I really had come to sell my most valuable ingredients, for which she paid me twenty-five hundred Septims. She mentioned that there was a rumor going about me and the prophecies. According to her, most people are disregarding it as a silly rumor, but the Temple has labeled me as a heretic...which I find odd. It is not as if the Tribunal Temple has a large amount of Khajiit converts after all. Would we not all be heretics in some fashion?

Rotheran fortress lay just north of the Ahemmusa Camp and teleporting there certainly saved me a great deal of time. From there it was just a short walk across the water into the camp, shrouded in fog and perilously close to a Daedric shrine.

The tribespeople milling about did not seem all that surprised that I was visiting them with the intention to claim the title of Ahemmusa Nerevarine. I was directed to one of the 'Gulakhans', a position inferior to that of Ashkhan, but the highest available within the Amhemmusa tribe. 

The Gulakhan I spoke with called himself Dutadalk and was very dismissive of me. He said he had no problems with letting another fool try to play at fulfilling the Prophecies and ungraciously allowed me to speak with the tribe's wise woman, Sinnammu. She was an old woman, but a great deal more helpful than the Gulakhan was. She was called Sinnammu and she was willing to give me a fair chance to prove that I was the Nerevarine. The proof she needed seemed simple: create a safe place for the Ahemmusa. 

When the Temple was strong, the tribe was able to retreat to the Daedric shrine of Ald Daedroth, for the Ordinators kept the shrine safe. But a priestess of Sheogorath has taken advantage of the Temple concentrating their forces at Ghostgate to bringto occupy the shrine with her cultists and summoned Daedra. Sinnammu's task was for me to go to the shrine, kill or drive off all the cultists, and generally make the place safe again for the Ahemmusa. When I thought it safe, I was to return to the camp and escort the aged wise woman to the shrine.

Having said that, she seemed resigned to death, with each of my attempts to gather more information met with the reminder that I would not be named Nerevarine if she should die. Between their rudeness and lack of hope, the Ahemmusa truly are a depressing lot.

I was eager to be free of them and set off immediately for the shrine. It lay on an island almost directly north of the camp and my water walking spell saved me from having to trouble myself with slaughterfish and dreugh. 

The sounds of battle rang from the ruined shrine well before I reached it and by the time I got there there was only a single Ordinator and a cultist left fighting outside. The cultist summoned a Bonewalker, but neither was any match for the Temple warrior. He was equipped with silver-colored armor in place of the usual gold, perhaps a lesser or greater rank? I do not know.

Surprisingly, the Ordinator turned on me as soon as he dispatched the cultist and I was forced to kill him. I had thought I was marked for death by the Temple, but I met a great deal of Ordinators battling the remaining cultists inside the shrine and they had no issues with me so long as I left them alone.

The Ordinators had already done a good job at eliminating the cultists and I only fought two of them myself. Each of them was carrying identical amulets, with minor enchantments, but I left them on the bodies. No sense in giving the Ordinators reason to attack me. As an aside, both my chitin spear and bonemold bow fared very well in battle, far better than I expected. 

And that was the whole of my story of Ald Daedroth. I walked back across the water to the camp and arrived just before midnight or so. I am calling it a night now rather than wake the old woman for the walk back. Tomorrow morning I will escort her to the ruins and hopefully be named Ahemmusa Nerevarine. 

Morrowind Day 59 - The Cavern of the Incarnate

12 Frost Fall

~~~

You would think taking a nap in House Dagoth's former stronghold would invite all sorts of nightmares, given what I have experienced from Dagoth Ur while asleep. But my brief rest was undisturbed. Sleep at home: Nightmares and attacks by monsters, sleep under Dagoth Ur's roof: peaceful sleep. I suppose stranger things have happened.

The Blight storm was still raging when I walked outside. Are the storms directly controlled by Dagoth Ur or are they a side-effect of the growing power within the Red Mountain? Whatever their origin, the storm lasted the entire day and I do wonder if it has any connection with the Ash Vampire I slew yesterday.

The walk back to the Urshilaku camp was dust-filled, but uneventful. Sul-Matuul was surprised to see me return, admitting that while he did think I would survive, he did not expect me to complete the task so soon. In bringing the three items before him, I have completed his personal test and he revealed what he knew of the third trial of the Nerevarine. 

The third trial really came in two parts: the first was Wisdom's Test, a simple puzzle in the form of a riddle. Solving it would lead me to the Cavern of the Incarnate, the second part of the trial. Decoding the riddle would provide directions. The riddle was:

the eye of the needle lies in the teeth of the wind

the mouth of the cave lies in the skin of the pearl

the dream is the door and the star is the key

Once I found the Cavern I was to acquire 'the moon and star' and bring it to Nibani. Sul-Matuul called the puzzle Wisdom's Test, but the wisdom was simply in asking the right people. Several of the Ashlanders were able to decode the riddle's lines and helpfully pointed me to the east. I was to travel along the coast until I saw two tall stone spires, the 'teeth of the wind', on either side of a small valley, which I guess is the 'eye of the needle'. 

The Blight storm reduced visibility to roughly three feet in front of me, but it did the same for everything else in the Ashlands. I walked right along the shore to maintain my direction and was trailed by several Dreugh certainly hoping I would slip and fall into the water. Even in the storm, the spires were pretty easy to locate, as they sat at the very end of the coast before the mountains separating the Ashlands from the eastern grasslands.

The valley did nothing to block the dust of the Blight storm and I was tempted to duck into a tomb I passed along the way, but it was starting to grow late and I did not want to have to walk back to camp at night during a Blight storm. 

Finding the door to the Cavern of the Incarnate was very easy, for the valley terminated at the entrance. I had been told the door would only open when Azura's star was visible, but my hands were barely visible thanks to the storm, so I tried pushing it open. If it was stuck I could simply wait a bit.

The door opened easily and I stepped inside the unusually cool air of the cavern. Immediately ahead of me was a very large and skillfully carved statue of the Daedric Prince Azura. Though clearly a Daedric shrine of some kind, it completely lacked the architecture of the other shrines and I felt at peace while I was there. I could see mummified bodies sitting around the shrine as I saw in the Urshilaku burial cavern, but they were not armed as the tribe's were. As I drew closer to the statue, I saw a ring floating within its cupped hands.

The ring was faced with a silver moon and a golden star, the symbols of Azura. Something in me felt compelled to take it and the world froze just as I wrapped my hand around it. Suddenly I was floating just above the Red Mountain, but the sky was clear and I could see the whole of Morrowind. Visions danced before my eyes and a voice exploded within my head. I will forever remember the words:

Nerevar reborn, Incarnate, your first three trials are finished, now two new trials lie before you. 

Seek the Ashlander Ashkhans and the Great House councilors. 

Four tribes must name you Nerevarine, three Houses must name you Hortator. 

My servant, Nibani Maesa, shall be your guide and when you are Hortator and Nerevarine, 

when you have stood before the False Gods and freed the Heart from its prison, 

heal my people and restore Morrowind. 

Do this for me and with my blessing.

...and then I felt something hit my hand and I was back in the cavern again, the ring within my grasp and the voice and visions completely gone. The voice was the same one that plagued my dreams while on the ship to Seyda Neen and it seems that Azura has singled me out to be the savior of the Dunmer people. I wish I knew more about Temple doctrine, but my short time there was spent sweeping floors more often than not. She's credited with creating the Khajiit and said by the Dunmer to be involved with their creation somehow, but more than that I do not know. 

When I turned to leave, I was quite startled by the ghost standing behind me. Contrary to the skeletal ghosts the Dunmer guard their tombs with, this one appeared as a young Dunmer woman. The spirit was friendly and called herself 'Peakstar', one of the failed Incarnates.

She had quite a list of titles to bequeath upon me: Incarnate, Moon-and-Star Reborn, Hortator, Nerevarine, Mourner of the Tribe Unmourned, and the Redeemer of the False Gods. I thought this odd, considering I was just told that I was not yet the Nerevarine nor Hortator, but I suppose I would be a bit out of it if my spirit had been stuck in the cave for who knows how many years. 

The spirit of Peakstar proved to be quite enlightening. The Moon-and-Star ring on my hand confirms that I am one of the incarnations of Nerevar, for anyone else would have been killed when they put the ring on. As the group of spirits in the cave would attest to, merely being Nerevar Reborn is no guarantee of success: Peakstar's run as Incarnate ended at the clawed hands of an Ash Vampire, the description of which matched the jeweled-head creature I had decapitated under Kogoruhn.

The Tribe Unmourned is House Dagoth and Peakstar advised that I pity the House rather than hate it, for the fall of Dagoth Ur came about only due to "my" instructions to guard the artifacts under Red Mountain. Following the Nerevar's instruction, Dagoth Ur defended the tools from the Tribunal, ultimately leading to the situation I find myself in now. I must say that I do not agree with Peakstar's view, for following that logic means that Peakstar herself is just as much to blame, having been the Incarnate at one time. Either way, it was interesting to hear.

The False Gods that the Incarnate is the redeemer of are the three of the Tribunal: Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil. They used the artifacts taken from Red Mountain to grant themselves Godhood and raised themselves up as the guardians of Morrowind, to the best of my understanding.

She conjured up a belt and pants from somewhere Beyond and gave them to me as gifts to assist me against Dagoth Ur. The belt is pretty much useless to me, but the pants have a levitating enchantment on them and will actually be useful...if I can get them altered to fit me. Any clothier should be able to help me.

The other spirits were briefer in their advice to me. The next I spoke to was named Ane Teria, who lived her life as a devout crusader for the Tribunal Temple. She was also something of an author and her writings were suppressed after her death, eventually becoming part of the Dissident Priest's hidden library, though I cannot remember if I read anything written by her. While she spent her life in faithful service to the Temple, she ignored the call of Azura and denied her role as the Nerevarine. She provided a book and her old mace.

Next was a sorcerer named Erur-Dan, who lived during Morrowind's surrender to the Empire. He wasted his life away on vengeance against the Imperials and eventually died in battle at Red Mountain, forever buried under the howling dust of the perpetual storm. His gifts were more appropriate for me, but still of limited use: an enchanted chitin spear and an enchanted bonemold cuirass.

Idrenie Nerothan was a thief Incarnate who fought against the Akaviri when they invaded Morrowind, an event I know absolutely nothing about, save for that it occurred a long time ago. She provided a high quality lock-pick and a thief's probe. She claimed to have worked behind the scenes against the Akaviri and learned only of the Nerevarine prophecy when the war drove her to seek refuge with the Ashland tribes. As for her fate, she would only say she died in Kogoruhn while trying to find treasure.

Perhaps the closest to success among the spirits was the former Ashkhan, Conoon Chodala. He led his tribe against the Akaviri which led to his peoples' deaths. He survived the war, making repeated raids into Red Mountain in an attempt to cleanse the horror from the land. In this he was successful, reclaiming many ruined fortresses in his day, but he did not heed the wise-women of the tribes and while he was marked as a savior, he craved only glory in battle, never becoming the Nerevarine. He offered his boots and a battle axe.

The final spirit was a cultured-sounding Dunmer named Hort Ledd. He claimed to have died four hundred years ago, a man of thought rather than action. He knew he was marked as the Incarnate, but he described himself with derision as a 'thinker, not a doer'. He likely died peacefully, having accomplished nothing. From him I received a book and a robe.

And that was my initiation rite into the group of the select few, and up until now, all Dunmer group of Incarnates. I felt it would be quite rude to dump their gifts on the floor, so I was forced to carry all of it out with me, as the spirits did not disappear as I was leaving. I would like to donate them to the Temple, but I gather I am no longer welcome within that institution. I suppose I could just store everything at home...should I ever find myself back there.

The Blight storm was still going strong when I left the cavern and I struggled against the wind all the way back to the camp. I arrived close to midnight, but Nibani had been waiting for my return. She was pleased to hear that everything matched what she saw in her dreams and my story affirmed that Azura has marked the part she is to play in the Prophecy.

She advised that I first be named Nerevarine by the Ashkhans of the four great tribes: the Urshilaku, the Ahemmusa, the Zainab, and the Erabenimsun, before attempting to be named Hortator by the Houses. To be named Nerevarine by the Urshilaku only requires that I ask it of from Sul-Matuul, but it is very early in the morning now and I need to rest. It can certainly wait until...later today.

Morrowind Day 58 - The Ruins of House Dagoth

11 Frost Fall

~~~

I woke at my normal time and spoke to Nibani before breakfast about her judgement of the Nerevarine prophecies as they may related to me. She claims her ancestors' spirits and various astrological signs show that I can in fact become the Nerevarine, prophesied hero of the Dunmer people. To become such, I must lift the seven curses of Dagoth Ur through seven tasks spoken of in The Seven Visions prophecy, the whole of which I have re-written here:

seven trials

What he puts his hand to, that shall be done.

What is left undone, that shall be done.

first trial

On a certain day to uncertain parents

Incarnate moon and star reborn.

second trial

Neither blight nor age can harm him.

The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies.

third trial

In caverns dark Azura's eye sees

And makes to shine the moon and star.

fourth trial

A stranger's voice unites the Houses.

Three Halls call him Hortator.

fifth trial

A stranger's hand unites the Velothi.

Four Tribes call him Nerevarine.

sixth trial

He honors blood of the tribe unmourned.

He eats their sin, and is reborn.

seventh trial

His mercy frees the cursed false gods,

Binds the broken, redeems the mad.

one destiny

He speaks the law for Veloth's people.

He speaks for their land, and names them great.

According to Nibani, I already fulfilled the first trial by means of my birth. Nibani did not understand the implications of the second trial, but when I told her of my being "cured" of Corpus by Divayth Fyr she merely remarked that being cured of Corpus was beyond belief, but to stop aging was a whole other matter. Still, she put faith in her ancestor spirits and accepted my words as truth.

The reminder of '...nor age can harm him' made me uneasy and I had succeeded in putting my apparent immortality out of my mind until this morning. Should someone find this journal (for whatever reason) in the years ahead, please track me down and ask me how I feel about it . I am sure I will have an interesting story to tell, if nothing else.

The third trial is unfulfilled. Nibani claimed the trial was a mystery whose answer was not hers to share and sent me to the aloof Sul-Matuul, whose role as the warrior-guardian of the Nerevarine cult made him a part of the prophecy as well.

True to his abrasive personality, he blandly told me that my being the Nerevarine was hard to believe and that Nibani's words have not yet swayed him to accept me. Instead, he bade me to go to a Dunmer fortress named Kogoruhn, the former home of House Dagoth, located close to Falasmaryon. 

Sul-Matuul gave me some advice before I left: be prepared. Haughty though he may be, the Dunmer is every bit the warrior as he claims to be. He and several warriors of the tribe had actually gone into the fortress and the man was not ashamed to admit that he was afraid for himself and his men the entire time. They left the fortress without losing anyone, but it was easy to tell that the raid left the proud warrior shaken.

He asked that I retrieve three things from the ruins: rags from a corpus beast, a goblet bearing the crest of House Dagoth, and an enchanted shield he called the 'Shadow Shield', which he said was lying deep underneath the fortress among pits of lava, on a tomb for a Dagoth Morin. Sounds like a wonderful resting place. If I bring him the three items, he will acknowledge me as warrior enough to be the Nerevarine and tell me what he knows of the third trial. Kogoruhn did not have a functioning Propylon Index (the latter events of today making the reason for that quite obvious), so it was another walk in the Ashlands for me.

Kogoruhn fortress

Curiously, the ruins of what I guess used to be houses dotted the area around the fortress. Was that to be typical of all the fortresses, or perhaps a plan of Dagoth Ur's to consolidate his people into one location? Whatever the plan, it did not come to fruition. The roof had no Propylon chamber, instead having three separate chambers, plus the main entrance. For reasons unknown, a simple ancestor spirit was wandering around and dispatched with less effort than it took to write this sentence.

Being the former residence of House Dagoth, I made sure to be well-prepared before I stepped into the first of the chambers. A good thing I was, for just inside was one of Dagoth Ur's tentacle-faced minions, who immediately rushed to engage me in melee combat. However, their strength lies in their spell-casting  and I quickly overpowered it.

The other two chambers each contained one of the floating horrors I encountered yesterday. They are far more powerful spell-casters than the tentacle-faces, but their withered arms make them just about defenseless when closely engaged. Each of the chambers had a supporting pillar in the center, making it easy to dance around and strike at the abominations as they ponderously tried to get into position to hit me with spells.

Scrawled on the floor of the two chambers were symbols I did not recognize and the phrase "The dreamer is awake". Is the dreamer Dagoth Ur? Or does it refer to the nightmare-haunted townspeople I have been encountering? 

I found a pile of corpus-infected rags in one of the chambers. Though not taken from a corpus creature, the stench was more than enough to give away their origin. Sul-Matuul will certainly be satisfied with them.

The inside of the actual fortress was typical of the others: one long passage circling the structure with open alcoves built along the way. Dagoth Ur's minions were in full occupancy of the place and I was able to kill the majority of them via bowshot down the long corridors. In one room I found a sheaf of poetry pinned to a table by a dagger, but the papers were full of fawning nonsense over the 'coming' of Dagoth Ur's new reign. Sitting atop a crate was a cup of House Dagoth. Two down, one to go.

I fought my way around the circular hallway and took the stairs upwards on to the roof once I had cleared the floor. Stepping outside on to the roof, I was greeted by the most pleasant sky I have seen since arriving on Vvardenfell. It proved to be an ironic gift given what I was to soon encounter underground.

I worked my way down to the lower level of the fortress and found more writing on the floor, this time in blood. I could not read the runic letters though. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to my temple studies after all.

Three richly equipped and long-dead adventurers were each locked in their own cell. Their manner of dead was impossible to determine, for they seemed unharmed physically. I initially thought they had been kept in the rooms until lack of water killed them, but their weapons were in the room and I think they would have killed themselves before succumbing to thirst. Whatever the case, one of the adventurers had been Khajiit and I left his body in peace. One of the adventurers had been wielding a glass halberd and I took a few experimental swings with it. Either the weapon is light enough or I am now strong enough, but it does not unbalance me the same way standard-issue steel halberds did. I took it with me and superstitiously left a few gemstones in its place.

 The fourth door led not to a dead adventurer, but a sewer system in the middle of the Ashlands somehow still filled with water. The wide open space provided ample opportunities for my bow and I felled one of the stone-skinned creatures, a Frost atronach, and a tentacle-faced creature without receiving a scratch.

A rough tunnel had been hewn out of the side of the sewers and the doorway had bloody rune lettering all over it. The tunneling beyond the door was similar to the underground section of Berandas, only with less breathable air and a great deal more lava. The latter proved to be handy after I lured my second angry Bonewalker into the molten sludge, destroying it instantly.

Beyond that Bonewalker was a long corridor, at the end of which I could see a vaguely human-shaped creature staring at me. It was not attacking, or shouting, or even pacing. Just standing there, watching me approach. This was entirely new behavior and with the air clouded by the lava fumes, the "creature" could have been Dunmer, possibly a stranded Ashland tribesman, so I declined to send arrows its way.

What ARE you?

The monstrous nature of my secret admirer became steadily more obvious as I grew closer and I began to regret my decision not to shoot whatever it was full of arrows. While it was easy to see that the thing used to be a Dunmer, the magics of Dagoth Ur had changed him (or her, I suppose) into a truly terrifying opponent. 

Easily seven feet tall, the monster was all muscle and looked completely capable of tearing me apart with hands stuck halfway between fingers and claws. A glowing orb was set into its forehead, which strongly resembled an eye and could not be removed. It was nearly naked, wearing only a loincloth and a bronze head-dress with unreadable runes all over it. The thing was not nearly as bizarre looking as some of Dagoth Ur's minions, but it was certainly the most menacing.

When I got close, it screamed and launched itself at me, but I had put my bow away in favor of my new halberd and was able to keep it at a distance with the weapon's longer reach. Unfortunately, my good sense must have failed me, for the Daedric spear was a far better choice but was then lying in the corridor so that I could be more mobile for combat against this horror.

Whatever abilities or magicka the creature may have possessed, it was set on grabbing me and presumably dashing me against the stone walls. It was very fast on its feet despite its size and I suffered several raking blows from its fingers which left wounds that alternated between burning pain and cold numbness. But the fight was not one-sided. The glass halberd took well to the creature's muscular flesh and the battle ended brutally. While it was dancing around me, I managed  to lop one of its feet off with a low swing, then immediately followed up with a strike against its neck when it toppled to the ground, completely severing the creature's head from it's shoulders. However, the blow also severely damaged the halberd's blade as it bit into the cavern floor.

I have an Orc back in the Auxiliaries to thank for that maneuver, though I find now I have forgotten almost all of their names and faces.

Distasteful as it may sound, I tried to pry the gemstone out of the creature's forehead, but it proved impossible to dislodge. I threw the head into a lava pit and took a few moments to examine the body. Naked as it was, there was not much to examine. It had a belt that was strongly enchanted, but I have not been able to identify with what. Someone at the Mages Guild will probably be able to tell me. The damage done to the halberd was enough that I left it with the headless corpse and I like to think that its final use was revenge enough for the fallen adventurer and his friends.

Everything after that seemed rather anti-climatic. I found Sul-Matuul's Dwemer 'Shadow Shield' in a room lined with altars and memorials, helpfully staffed by one of the tentacle-faced things. There was an Orcish warhammer on one altar and a pair of Daedric gauntlets on another, but I left everything alone. Anything taken from this place is a curse.

By the time I made my way back up and out of the fortress it was well past midnight, but the clear night sky was a welcome sight. Rather than walk back to the Ashland camp tired, wounded, and very nervous, I have locked myself in one of the small domes and will take a nap for a few hours until daybreak.

I do wonder if Sul-Matuul is actually expecting me to return.

Morrowind Day 57 - Falasmaryon revisited

10 Frost Fall

~~~

The Ashlanders start their days far earlier than I find comfortable. Even while I was in the Auxiliaries, I typically woke up an hour or so before breakfast was served, as I still prefer. To say I spent the night at the Urshilaku Camp is a stretch, for it was still night when the entire camp seemed to wake at once. I was offered a breakfast of dried meat and berries, which I ate and supplemented with my own food once I was out of sight of the camp. No good comes from fighting on a nearly empty stomach. 

The hunters of the tribe dispersed into the wilderness after everyone ate and I wandered east into unknown territory. There was not much to see, just a lot of ash and dry soil that cracked underneath my steps. I did spot three Dreugh lazily swimming along the shore, which is unusual, as so far all my encounters with them have been with single creatures.

I did come across a long-dead Silt Strider and the remains of its owner, whose skeletal remains bears the marks of having been long in the wasteland. Thick vines had grown over the skeleton, creating a simple sort of memorial to the unfortunate soul.

While wandering, I passed by a tomb entrance and my curiosity got the better of me. The tomb was small and guarded by three of the multi-limb floating skeletal creatures, all of them powerful spell-casters  The confines of the tomb worked more against them than me though and I managed to fight my way through all three, only to discover...nothing. The tomb had either been raided before or never held anything of value to begin with. I wandered onward.

South of the camp, I came across Falasmaryon and decided to explore it a bit further.

There was a Dunmer living in a hut on the roof of the fortress, he was displeased to see me, but not hostile. He claimed he liked living there due to the solitude, which he used to perfect his archery. He offered to train me, for a fee, but I did not have time today. I told him I would return later, if time and money permitted.

As I expected, the fortress had been claimed by Sixth House creatures, but for the most part their lack of functioning eyes and/or limbs allowed me to pick them off one-by-one. I dispatched many of the strange "men" with the tentacle in their face by firing arrows down the corridors. If the first shot did not kill them, they inevitably ran towards me before casting their spells. They were typically dead before they got close enough to do anything.

The Sixth House cultists had dragged a body clad in expensive clothing and glassed armor into one of the alcoves. Whoever the Dunmer was, he was seemingly either quite accomplished or quite wealthy to be adventuring like that. Sadly, it was obviously not enough to prevent his death in Falasmaryon.

In a larger alcove I encountered a new creature of the Sixth House. I do not know what I will be calling it, but its anatomy left any pretense of formerly being Dunmer (as many of the creatures appear to be) far behind. This thing had a hunch-backed appearence and seemed to float along the ground rather than walk. Multiple tentacles sprouted from what might have been a face and only its arms and hands resembled anything like a Dunmer. It made a constant murmuring sound as it glided around the room, but I could not tell what it was actually doing, if anything. 

It had not seen me peeking at it, so I retreated back down the hallway and cast my Invisibility spell. No matter how powerful the foe, I have yet to fight one capable of seeing through my spell before I strike. This enemy was no different, but where a lesser creature would have been killed instantly by the Daedric spear, this thing recoiled shock or pain and turned on me, immediately casting its own spells, one of which was poison.

I fought the nausea as best I could and slayed the monster with two more strikes from the spear. Instantly, the creature vanished, leaving nothing behind but a large skull whose origin is unknown to me. I then spent the next ten minutes heaving up breakfast before the poison spell wore off. Hardly the thing told in heroic tales.

The shrine it had been circling around was quite ornate and dotted with the same small statues and red candles that are the characteristic of any Sixth House hideout and contained very little treasure worth taking.

The fortress had lower floors I had not explored, but I was not feeling up to further battles after the encounter with the floating thing, so I left the fortress and made my way back to the camp. One of the tribesmen told me that I was to speak with the wise woman when I had returned to the camp, but when I entered her hut, she looked at me and bade me to rest, saying we would be talking in the morning. So be it then.

Morrowind Day 56 - Kerra to the Rescue

9 Frost Fall

~~~

Quite often I find myself side-tracked by small tasks while traveling to take care of a larger one. I have never seen these as annoyances or hindrances, but as opportunities to improve myself. I am certainly more relaxed than I used to be, even though my duty as the (possible) Nerevarine should have me more worried than I ever have been before. I trust my instincts and I have found that breaking down large problems into smaller ones has been serving me well. I may be the Nerevarine and therefore responsible for the fate of Morrowind...or I may not be and my part may be only to deliver the lost prophecies to the Ashlanders. Worry about what is in front of you, right?

I woke up at the Six Fishes and water-walked across the bay to the nearest canton (forget which one) and paid a gondolier a few Septims to ferry me to the Foreign Quarter canton. I always mean to spend some time at the bowyer's there, but again I had more pressing business. The Vivec Mages Guild sent me to Ald'ruhn and from there my only choice was to trudge north until I reached the coast.

A blight storm greeted my arrival as I stepped outside of the Ald'ruhn Mages Guild, but the dread has long since past. Now it's more of an annoyance than anything else for the red sky and swirling dust makes it hard to see.

I suffered the storm for almost the entire walk, barely glimpsing Maar Gan through the red haze as I walked past it. The storm ended as I was near the shore and it dissipated rapidly, leaving the more pleasant smell of the sea in the air and sunlight determined to break through the ever-present overcast.

While walking along the final stretch before reaching the shore, I noticed a door set into the hillside that I had not noticed during my previous trips. Judging by the intricate designs on the door, I assumed it was a family tomb, but the few tombs I have visited that were still in that use never showed signs of heavy foot traffic. This one did and curiosity dictated that I see why that was.

The tomb was very small, barely two rooms, three if you want to count the short corridor the stairs emptied to. The door at the end of the corridor was ajar and I slowly pushed it open with my spear. I might as well have kicked it open. A Dunmer and a Khajiit were running at me before the door was open enough for any one of us to step through it and the Dunmer yanked it open, savagely stabbing and slashing at me with a steel dagger.

Were I unarmored I am sure he would have dealt me a great deal of harm, but the dagger skittered uselessly off of the dreugh carapace. He was unarmored to the extreme of being nearly naked and my own dagger sent him to a quick death. The Khajiit was more cautious, surprisingly throwing spells through the door at me, so I retreated back up the stairs and waited for him to pursue me. The ferocity of the Dunmer's attack smelled strongly of vampirism to me and the Khajiit's over-eager pursuit strongly supported that. He made for an easy target and three arrows fired downwards into his chest ended his life. My examination of the bodies showed they were certainly vampires and their bodies dissolved into valuable dust soon after. It is a grisly business, but the dusty remains of vampires is extremely valuable and I can sell it in Balmora with no issues...not that I really need the money. The tomb offered nothing else of interest.

 The man was pacing at the crossroads in front of the tomb went I exited and he turned to me, terrified, when he heard the door creak open. I assured him I meant him no harm and I asked him what was wrong, as the man was visibly distraught and close to tears.

He became even closer to tears when he told me his story. His name is Sason, his wife's Malexa. They were traveling from Khuul to Maar Gan along the dirt path when cultists ambushed them. He was paralyzed via a spell and had to watch, helpless, as his wife was dragged away to become some sort of sacrifice. Unsure what to do, he was making his way back to Khuul to try and find help when I stepped out of the tomb in front of him. Neither of them were any sort of warrior and he had been certain her rescue was impossible before I appeared, armed and armored, nearly right in front of him.

He begged me to try and find her, but I did not need much encouragement in order to agree. He stated that they dragged his wife off to the west, which was fortunate as there is not much to the west of where we were: Only Ald'Velothi and a Daedric ruin, with Khuul roughly north-west of where I met Sason. Obviously the kidnappers were not going to Ald'Velothi, so it was either the ruins or a cave. He described them as cultists, so I felt that the ruins was safer bet for Malexa.

A group of Ashlanders were camped just beyond the ruins, but they did nothing but watch me warily as I passed by. Armed, as usual, with chitin armor and weapons, they would not have had a chance of survival anyway.

The ruins were well guarded by Clannfear and Daedroth, but the chaotic architecture worked against the Clannfears' charges into meele combat and the Daedroths' spells. Three Clannfear and two Daedroth later made the ruins relatively safe to escort Malexa out of, should she have been inside.

My instincts proved correct. The inside of the shrine was dominated by a giant statue of a Daedroth and two Dunmers equally clothed in rich purple robes were busying themselves around it, probably preparing to sacrifice the poor woman as an offering. They were more priest than warrior and had no guards of any kind inside the shrine. It was easy for me to slip invisibly behind them, sending each to a quick death with a strike to the throat. 

Malexa was locked in a small room off of the main shrine, but the lock was simple enough for me to pick the lock instead of using a spell. Malexa was alarmed when I entered, but her husband's name instantly calmed her and she agreed to follow me out. The walk back was uneventful, Malexa was not injured and eager to re-unite with her husband, so the trip was a quick one.

The couple were overjoyed to be together again and Sason pressed a sack of Septims into my hand and would not hear of anything involving my not accepting them. He is also a retainer of some notice in House Redoran and promised to spread the news of my "great deed", as he said, among the House. I offered to escort them to Maar Gan or Khuul, but they declined. I do wonder what Faral would think of a Redoran retainer unable to defend himself or his wife. It is probably best for the two of them that she never finds out about this. I do hope Sason is careful with his tale-telling.

It was night by the time I finally reached the shore and I water-walked along the coast, past the ruined ship and the Daedric ruins. The Urshilaku camp lay just beyond the hills of the ruins and the wise-woman welcomed me and my scrolls into her hut. She read  through them quickly, then announced she would need time to consult the ancestor spirits and to think upon what I have given her. In other words: come back later!

Rather than recall back to Ald'ruhn, I have decided to spend more time along the north coast of the island, which so far remains largely unexplored by me. After a few days I will consult with the wise-woman and see what my next steps should be.

Morrowind Days 49 & 50 - Legacy of the Urshilaku

2 Frost Fall, 3 Frost Fall
~~~

Neminda promoted me to the rank of Oathman when I saw her in the morning. She immediately gave me a new task: travel to Maar Gan and find out what happened to the Redoran trader, Mathis Dalobar, who was late in returning to Ald'ruhn. Maar Gan is halfway between Ald'ruhn and the Urshilaku's camp, so I accepted, intending to satisfy both responsibilities in the same day.

An ash storm started to pick up as I was leaving town and completely engulfed me in minutes. I thought about turning back and waiting until it died down, but that could have been a wait of hours or of days. This was not my first dust storm I have had to travel in and I wound up just trudging through the grit.

Maar Gan, barely visible

I was a bit concerned that someone might link me to the disappearence of the Propylon Stone I had swiped from the Temple, but not only was I not recognized, the stone itself seemed to have been completely forgotten. Maybe the Temple assumed one of its acolytes accidentally lost it. The local armorer had a surprising supply of silvered arrows, all of which I purchased. He had no concrete information on the disappearance of Mathis Dalobar, only commenting that there had been a bad ash storm a few days back which the trader had likely been caught up in.

A few villagers did tell me that they saw Mathis just outside of town as the storm gathered strength and that he had run into a nearby tomb to escape. Why he did not simply run for the town, they could not say. I found the tomb after spending hours stumbling around in my own ash storm, but I could begrudgingly approve of his decision to head for the nearest shelter by then. 

The tomb opened to a stairway, at the bottom of which was another door and the lost trader. The man was smart enough not to proceed any further than that, allowing whatever guardians the tomb had to peacefully await the intruder who would be coming through the second door. Mathis was unharmed and relieved to see me, stating that he had been stuck at the foot of the stairs for three days, as he had been unable to open the tomb's door once he closed it behind him. I had no problems re-opening the door and he requested that I escort him to the Maar Gan shrine.

Now that I knew where to go, the walk from the tomb to Maar Gan only took a few minutes. Mathis lamented at the loss of his guar with all his merchandise, but thanked me for saving his life. By then it was already late in the afternoon and the storm was still raging, but I decided to continue onward towards the Urshilaku camp. Other than a group of bandits uselessly firing chitin arrows at me, I had no issues with the journey further north. The storm had died by the time I reached the coast and I cautiously waded into the shallows to get some of the dust out of my fur.

The Urshilaku were polite in their own way. I approached them in what I think was a respectful manner and told them I was seeking information on the Nerevarine prophecies. The ones I talked to acknowledged my interest, but dismissed me as an outlander who had no business with such things. I wound up with an audience with Zabamund, the champion of Sul-Matuul, in order to get his permission to approach Sul-Matuul. A failure to do this could mean having to fight Sul-Matuul, which would not get me anywhere.

Zabamund was more blunt than the others. He demanded a reason as to why I should be allowed to talk to Sul-Matuul and their wise-woman, Nibani Maesa. Remembering what Hassour told me, I offered a tribute of money and received Zabamund's permission to see Sul-Matuul with my questions.

Sul-Matuul was more accepting of my questions. When I asked to be tested against the Nerevarine prophecies, he told me that no outlander could ever be tested, but if I was made Clanfriend, an honorary member of the tribe I suppose, I could then be tested. He offered an initiation rite, which if I passed, he would personally adopt me into the clan and introduce me to the wise-woman. I really had no choice and accepted the rite.

It was less than what I expected. He called it a 'harrowing', but I call it 'what I do almost every day': I was to go to the tribe's burial cavern and fetch a chitin bow that had belonged to Sul-Matuul's father. Before I left he cautioned me that the tribe's ancestor spirits were guarding the cavern and would attempt to kill me. I resisted the urge to tell how how many Dremora and Golden Saints I have fought and defeated.

Apparently the Urshilaku mummify their warriors and the sight is quite startling. Even the eyes are preserved: grey, dry, and eternally staring in contemplation. Walking by them managed to put me on edge just as badly as my first encounter with the blighted monsters in the Ashlands, but they were harmless.

The guardians were almost entirely animated skeletons armed with silver longswords and cheap iron shields, nothing I could not handle so long as I was not facing more than two at a time. I found several bodies of long-deceased and partially mummified adventurers, all of them in mismatched equipment of varying quality. Whether they came as a group or individually was impossible to tell and I wonder if they too were testing themselves against the Nerevarine prophecy. It is far more likely that they were all simple robbers.

The cavern was divided into several levels, each accessible by a central stone spire that rose up towards the ceiling. I explored each level thouroughly, but only within the final level did I find what I was searching for. The bow was levitating against the ceiling and guarded by a tough ghost typical of Dunmer burial sites in a room at the furtherest end of the highest chamber. The ghost was fairly difficult, striking me with a wide variety of spells and darting out of the way of my attacks, but it was more frustrating than damaging. When I finally managed to drive it into a corner and defeat it, the bow clattered on to the ground behind me. On my way out I spotted a burial totem eerily similar to the ones I saw in the Sixth House base.

It had been growing darker when I entered the burial cavern, so I was very surprised to see it growing lighter when I exited. I managed to spend an entire, sleepless night fighting the Urshilaku's ancestral spirits without realizing how much time had passed. 

With realization came fatigue. I anticipated handing the bow to Sul-Matuul, but he gifted it to me as part of naming me Clanfriend, an adopted member of the clan. Having thus been initiated into the tribe, I was allowed to finally speak with the wise woman.

In the pattern I was beginning to recognize, the wise-woman, Nibani Maesa, treated me indifferently, scoffing at my title of Clanfriend as a transient thing. Nevertheless, she willingly discussed the Nerevarine prophecy with me and the possibility of my being the Nerevarine. What she told me is far too much to write here. I did write a summary of notes to give to my friend in Balmora, which I will also record here for my own use. These are the words of the prophecy called "Seven Visions of Seven Trials of the Incarnate." I wrote them down as she spoke them to me.

seven trials :

What he puts his hand to, that shall be done.

What is left undone, that shall be done.

first trial :

On a certain day to uncertain parents

Incarnate moon and star reborn.

second trial :

Neither blight nor age can harm him.

The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies.

third trial :

In caverns dark Azura's eye sees

And makes to shine the moon and star.

fourth trial :

A stranger's voice unites the Houses.

Three Halls call him Hortator.

fifth trial :

A stranger's hand unites the Velothi.

Four Tribes call him Nerevarine.

sixth trial :

He honors blood of the tribe unmourned.

He eats their sin, and is reborn.

seventh trial :

His mercy frees the cursed false gods,

Binds the broken, redeems the mad.

one destiny :

He speaks the law for Veloth's people.

He speaks for their land, and names them great.

Nibani herself did not understand some of the prophecy, but she confirmed what my friend was hoping: I was not the Nerevarine, but nor was anyone else right now. I could, however, become the Nerevarine by undergoing the trials. She recommended I track down the lost writings of the Prophecy  said to be held by the splinter faction of the Temple, the Dissident Priests. Perhaps my contact in Vivec will be able to help me with that.

But I was thoroughly exhausted and in no condition to be dashing off to Vivec on the heels of another mystery. Instead I parted with Nibani and used a scroll of Divine Intervention to pop back into Gnisis after I left the wise-woman's tent.

A short walk to Berandas's Propylon chamber sent me to Folms in Caldera and then to the Balmora Mages Guild. My friend was taken aback by the news that I really could be the Nerevarine, evidently he had been betting on only having me pretend to be. From what the wise-woman said though, pretending to be the Nerevarine would only serve to make a person either look mad or a fool. He promised to follow up with our mutual contact in Vivec about the lost text and meanwhile assigned me to look into the disappearance of an Imperial Legion patrol.

The patrol originated from the Fort Buckmoth garrison, just outside of Ald'ruhn. They had been sent to Gnaar Mok to eliminate a smuggling ring based within a cave the villagers call Ilunibi. But the twelve-strong patrol was just about wiped out, with only one survivor managing to retreat back to Fort Buckmoth. Before expiring from corpus disease, the trooper claimed the patrol had been fighting and winning against monsters and Sixth House cultists until a deformed magic-user appeared during a melee and struck the rest of the patrol dead with a single gesture. The surviving trooper was wounded during his retreat and contracted corpus, which may have damaged his recollection of the events.

Either way, my friend asked that I infiltrate the cave, destroy the Sixth House base and report back on this priest of theirs. My contact at Fort Buckmoth is Raesa Pullia, a very Imperial-sounding name and she has more details for me. 

According to Ajira, it was nine in the morning when I stumbled blearily back into the Guild. I had no intention of speaking with Raesa today, I am simply too tired. Instead I have spent almost the entire day resting and practicing my magicka skills with the guild members. Tomorrow I will visit Fort Buckmoth and decide on my next course of action.

Morrowind Day 31 - The Ashland Tribe

15 Hearthfire
~~~

I woke this morning quite comfortably in the hammock of one of my defeated foes and had breakfast while tinkering with the alchemical equipment they had left behind. The equipment was a full complement of any alchemist's workshop, but too bulky to carry with me, at least right now. I may return for it if I ever find a place to call my own.

The cavern bordered a Daedric ruin which I had to work my way through in order to continue along the coast towards the Ashlander camp. I normally would have skirted around the edge of the site, but perhaps I was still smarting from all the wealth I had left behind and I cast a few defensive spells and marched right through.  In hindsight this was a foolish idea given the condition of my armor and weapons after the battle with the Daedroth and the Golden Saint.

Almost immediately I was set upon by two Clannfear, but my skills must be improving more than I thought, since I dispatched both of them with little harm to myself and claimed their valuable hearts for myself. I passed by the door of the ruins and though I tried to resist, my curiosity got the better of me and I entered the shrine.

Almost immediately I was set upon by a Dremoa wielding a Dwarven halberd, but he may have been the weaker of his kind, for he cast no spells and relied only on his bladework, which even against my sword and shield was not sufficient to save his life. Another Daedric heart plopped into my pack. Thanks to the mysteries of the alloy, the halberd was not much heavier than my spear, but still suffered the balance issues all pole-axe weapons have. The natural stance of a Khajiit (and Argonian) is woefully inadequate to utilize the advantage of the weapon and I left it near the corpse. In the hands of say, an Orc or a Nord, a well-placed strike from a halberd could cleave a smaller foe in two.

The inside of the shrine was not spacious and the short hallway led only to a small alcove, where a few bedrolls and chests lay in the corner, all rotten and long unused. The locks on the chests were decayed enough for me to smash them off, but the chests only contained the signs of long gone (or dead) smugglers: lockpicks, a few Septims, and some packets of Moon Sugar. Nothing of value was gained, other than some confidence in my growing abilities.

The weather had turned far more agreeable when I exited the shrine and I carefully made my way along the coast, following the rough directions I had given. After a short distance I came across a collection of buildings that looked like they were built from silt strider shells (possible?) and the inhabitants were all armed with either a sword or spear, as well as a bow and full quiver. I correctly guessed them to be the tribe I was seeking and not wanting to be peppered with arrows, made a loud, clumsy approach before I reached their village.

The Ashland camp

They seemed unconcerned by my approach, but many of them rudely refused to talk to me. Finally, one Ashlander directed me to the wise woman of the camp "if I insisted on talking so much". The wise woman was as willing to talk just as much as her tribesmen were not. She was unwilling to discuss the Nerevarine prophecy, but gave me quite a bit of information on the Blight, Dagoth Ur, and even advised me on the dream I had, telling me that this was a communication of Dagoth Ur's and to disregard everything to do with it. I find it odd that Dagoth Ur would have an interest in me, but perhaps it is an affliction that occurs at random, Blight upon the wind perhaps. This may explain the strange behavior of the citizens in Suran and elsewhere.

While I would not say the woman was friendly, she was cordial and more importantly, willing to sell the Propylon stone for only twenty-five Septims. She said that a hunter had found the stone in some nearby ruins, probably one of the two nearby Dunmer fortresses. She had an impressive set of high-quality alchemical equipment and we soon fell into small talk, comparing notes about various ingredients.

The sun was still high, but it was late enough in the day that I could not accomplish much of use before darkness set. I contemplated going back to Ibar-Dad and spending the night there, but the wise woman must have been reading my mind, for she finished our conversation by suggesting I spend the night in a temporarily vacant hut, which they call yurts, extracting a promise out of me to return to her with any gems, which are difficult for the Ashland tribes to come across and required for the more potent alchemy recipes. 

Tomorrow I begin the return journey back to Caldera, another step towards receiving the Propylon Index completed.