haute - You got it. It's one of those quests that will always stick in my mind.

ghastley - Soon.

Acadian - All will be revealed.



Previously - Continuing towards Leyawiin, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe had an encounter with an ogre, where Cirinwe once again demonstrated her growing skills in combat. Once in the city, they met Jötnar, and discovered that something was very wrong...

Chapter 60



Water's Edge is a small settlement that sits on the road north of Leyawiin. A peaceful settlement of farmers and fishermen. Had Cirinwe and I arrived but a day earlier, we would have walked right through a massacre.

The Blackwood Company mercenaries had been operating out of Leyawiin for a short time, but were swiftly becoming more popular than the Fighter's Guild. Blackwoods were cheaper and never turned down a job, no matter how bad the task or the pay might be. At the order of his guild, Jötnar had been tasked with joining Blackwood and finding out their secrets. His first job with them was to help clear Water's Edge of goblins.

"When we arrived, we were given a potion to drink. They said it...they said it was Hist sap to make us fight better." Jötnar paused his tale at the mention of Hist sap, but I nodded for him to continue. There was already a sickening feeling welling up in my stomach.

"The goblins were everywhere, not a single villager in sight, so we got to work and wiped them all out. Once we were done, we pulled out, didn't even stick around to burn the bodies like the guild usually does. On the way back I started feeling dizzy and sat down for a while, the others left me behind like they were in a hurry. I..." The massive Nord's voice shook slightly, so he took a large swig of mead.

"It's alright. Take your time." Cirinwe reached over and took Jötnar’s free hand in one of her own. I saw a brief glow of magicka, most likely a stamina spell to calm the Nord down.

"I decided to head back to the village once the dizziness wore off. When I got there, there wasn't a single goblin corpse. Just dead villagers. Every single one.” Jötnar wretched at the memory, but fought it back and finished his drink.

“Jötnar. Are you able to fight right now?” I asked. He paused for a few moments, then nodded.

“Meet us in front of the Blackwood headquarters in half an hour.” I left without another word, Cirinwe following close behind.

“Explain.” The Altmer said, slowing her long stride to match mine.

“Hist sap. You can’t import it, which means they must have a source here in Leyawiin.”

“A tree? You think it’s connected to that odd feeling you’ve been having?” She caught on quick.

“I hadn’t even considered it. To physically uproot a Hist is…I don’t even have a word to describe it. Then to drink its sap?” I shook my head, as if the thought could be shaken out.

“Don’t Argonians drink the sap?” Cirinwe asked.

“Usually only once, when we first hatch. I’ll explain more later. We’re here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” My companion asked.

“Home. I need some things, come in.” I opened the door to Deeh’s house, half expecting him to be waiting for me, but it was empty. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Leaving Cirinwe in the kitchen, I headed to my bedroom. Once there, I stripped off my armour and gently rested my bow by the window. I retrieved my Legion uniform and sword from the large chest under my bed, and equipped them. My bow wouldn’t be needed, and this would all be official.

Cirinwe grinned when I returned, but didn’t say anything. We quickly made our way to the Blackwood HQ, where Jötnar was waiting. He regarded my uniform for a second and nodded firmly.

After I confirmed that my two companions were ready, we climbed the steps of the building and heaved open the doors. Once inside the doors slammed just behind us, and several members of the company entered the main hall to greet us. All were either Khajiit or Argonians, dressed in decorative heavy armour. Their hands hovered around their sheathed weapons suspiciously. One Khajiit stepped forward:

“This one is Ri’Zakar, Pakseech of the Blackwood Company. Why does the Legion come to us, in the company of a traitor?” The last word was spat at Jötnar.

“I am Legate Haa-Rei. For the production, distribution, and consumption of Hist sap, and for the murder of the residents of Water’s Edge, you are all under arrest.” I said loudly and clearly, hoping that I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt.

The Khajiit barked some orders in his native tongue and the hiss of weapons leaving their scabbards rang through the hall.

“I guess they won’t come quietly.” Jötnar grinned, his spirits apparently lifted by the thought of combat.

Ri’Zakar came at me with his claymore in a very impressive overhead swing, which I easily side-stepped. I slashed at the weak points in his armour, inside the elbow, and his sword clattered to the ground. He attempted to grab me with his uninjured arm, but the heavy plate armour was not conducive to movement and I ducked out of his reach before leaping forward, slamming my sword into his underarm. I felt the chainmail give way to the short, pointed blade of my sword. Pakseech Ri’Zakar’s body hit the wooden floor with a heavy clatter.

To my left, Cirinwe’s axe parted an Argonian’s head from his shoulders, while to my right I could see that Jötnar had already defeated two Blackwood soldiers.

“I’ve got this, you two go!” Jötnar shouted, punching a Khajiit in the face.

I grabbed a heavy key from Ri’Zakar’s belt and headed to the most impressive door I could see. As soon as it opened, the strange feeling in my head was amplified and I staggered into Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei!” She held me up until I found my feet again.

“We’re in the right place.” I slowly made my way down the stairs, down and down until we emerged into a large room. “By the Hist…” I gasped.

Before us was, indeed, a Hist tree. Its bark was pale and cracked, no leaves adorned its branches, and several metal pipes erupted from the trunk, a steady stream of sticky sap dripping into large containers. Two Argonians rushed to attack us, but they weren’t soldiers, and died quickly.

“What do we do?” Cirinwe asked, staring at the abomination before us.

I stepped forward and carefully placed one hand on the tree. Pain bloomed in my skull as the tree tried to communicate, and I wrenched my hand away. I felt blood running from my nose.

“We can’t save it. We have to…we have to kill it.” Even saying the words was difficult. The idea of killing a Hist…

“How?” Cirinwe asked, though I could tell she had many more questions she was holding back.

“Fire. Fire is the only way.” I rooted around the alchemical supplies in the room until I found some fire salts. After scattering them around the base of the tree, I touched them with a torch. The effect was instantaneous – the salts erupted into flame and caught on the tree immediately. The Hist sap in the containers also caught fire and began to boil. Pain bloomed in my mind again, driving me to one knee. More blood dripped onto the stone floor from my nose and ears. My vision began to blur, my mind reeling.

I felt myself being lifted into the air, and then everything went dark.

You know, this is my least favorite part of the whole Fighters Guild quest line in Oblivion - the Blackwood Company's imprisonment of the Hist tree.

At the time, I hadn't yet fully appreciated the symbiosis between the Hist, Nirn and the Argonians. That truly did not become apparent until I read the Infernal City and sequels, and especially after playing ESO.

Even so, Julian and I were sickened by the treatment of the Hist tree in the basement. Yes, it was Just A Tree to us, however, it was a living, breathing being (yes, plants do breathe, it's how we are able to breathe), and seeing it shackled and imprisoned like that really bothered us

Somehow you captured that feeling, and put an Argonian twist on it. It makes me even angrier that the Argonians of the Blackwood Company would tolerate such treatment of a being so integral not only to their culture but to their entire species.

This is a wonderful episode on so many levels. Thank you for writing this.

I've never done that quest with an Argonian character, so I've never had to think about the problems they could have with the tree's demise.

And of course, the developers didn't...

Edit: I just noticed that you skipped the bits where Ja'Fazir has had to lock Jeetum-Ze in his room, and the latter has locked Ri'Zakar in his. Presumably at least one of the two is sufficiently deranged to require that in the vanilla game.

A gut-wrenching backdrop to this episode.

I especially enjoyed how true to themselves that your characters we have come to know were. Ciri nurturingly reached out with her newfound healing touch to soothe Jotnar. Haa-Rei wordlessly and grimly set to the task he knew he had to do. Jotnar’s mood improved notably with combat at hand.

In ESO I’ve gained an appreciation for some of the similarities regarding how Argonians and Bosmer view and interact with the natural world they live in.

Well done!

haute - Same here, the Infernal City was the first major bit of Hist/Argonian lore that I encountered before ESO came along. Looking back on this quest now really changes my feelings towards it. I'm glad it was as interesting to read as it was for me to write.

ghastley - Yes, it's not quite as deep in the game. I guess that's why fanfics exist. I decided to leave out the "get key from X" parts to save some time, but I'll touch on it later. Drinking Hist sap does indeed have some long term effects on the mind.

Acadian - I had the exact same thought regarding Bosmer and Argonians while exploring Valenwood. Trees are absolutely vital for each race. Glad you enjoyed it!



Previously - After hearing Jötnar's harrowing tale of the Water's Edge massacre and the use of Hist sap, the three friends moved swiftly against the Blackwood mercenaries. Haa-Rei was then forced to destroy their Hist tree, which had been driven mad from months of torture...

Chapter 61



When I awoke, I found myself back in my room at Deeh’s house. My head ached a little but I was otherwise unharmed, and no longer bleeding. My heart felt heavy at the loss of a Hist tree, and I wasn’t completely sure that it was the right thing to do.

“Awake?” a voice asked. I eased myself up in bed and turned to its source, pushing any other thoughts to the back of my mind.

Cirinwe was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, surrounded by the various bits and pieces of her armour that she was busy cleaning.

“Awake.” I confirmed. Cirinwe put the armour to one side and shuffled over to the bed, immediately placing one hand on my brow. One spell pulsed through my body to check for injuries, and then another for healing and pain reduction.

“How do you feel?” doctor Ciri asked, peering into one eye.

“A light headache, but I’m all in one piece.”

“I know that, I meant how do you feel, emotionally.” she finished her medical examination and cupped her hands around my face, turning me so I had to look her in the eyes. She had grown very perceptive.

“I’m…not sure.” her hands were warm, and she smelled slightly of smoke and sweat.

“Oho! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” A voice called out from the doorway, causing Cirinwe to snatch her hands away.

“Deeh.” I greeted my foster father, though in truth I was much more interested in the tray he was carrying. A pot of tea and a selection of snacks. Not to say I wasn’t pleased to see him of course, but…

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you weren’t dead, so I thought you might be hungry.” he grinned, meaning that he had grown tired of standing with a glass to the door. “How is he, Cirinwe?”

“He’s made a full recovery, though I would recommend that he doesn’t do anything heroic for a couple of days.” Cirinwe smiled, pouring some tea first for me and then for herself.

“You two have met?” I asked, taking a tentative sip. Mountain Flower tea, a personal favourite.

“Of course, she introduced herself yesterday after she carried you in here. Not quite how one expects to meet one’s future daughter-in-law but I suppose it can’t be helped.” Deeh chuckled.

“Your dau-” I spluttered, almost choking on my tea.

“Not quite there yet, eh? No matter, no matter, young people have nothing but time.” He grinned again. I could feel my headache returning.

“Thank you for the tea.” I said flatly, indicating that he should change the subject.

“You’re most welcome, hatchling.” He turned to leave, but paused before reaching the door. “If you’re going to stick around for a few days, you could look in on Rosentia Gallenus. Nobody has seen her for a few days, and there are some odd noises coming from her house.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” I agreed, watching Deeh leave.

“Who?” Cirinwe asked, her face still bright red after Deeh’s comment.

“Rosentia Gallenus, she lives in the big house next door. Collects magical curios, and has a very nice library, but she’s not a mage herself as far as I’m aware.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“You’re more than welcome.” I was glad that any talk of emotions had been shelved. Hopefully this would be enough to keep us busy for a short while.

I finished my tea and hopped out of bed, pleased to see that I was still wearing my armour. I decided to keep it on, but switched out the light legion gauntlets and boots for my sturdier treated leather ones. I also retrieved my bow. The Hist wood felt almost alive in my hand, and a lot more comforting than the Blackwood tree.

Cirinwe required assistance with her own gear, which had lots of straps and buckles to keep everything in place. It appeared that the Blackwood Company had ‘donated’ a couple of pieces, their intricate vine pattern looking far better on Cirinwe’s tall frame than they did on an angry Khajiit.

“Where’s your axe?” I asked, noticing its absence.

“I had to drop it to carry you back here, and by the time I went back for it, the basement was inaccessible.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t even imagine how much that axe had cost, and she had become quite proficient with it.

“Don’t worry about it. I brought this back with me instead.” She revealed a very familiar claymore, last seen in the hands of the Blackwood leader as he tried to cut me in half.

It was a beautiful weapon of Elven design. A richly detailed hilt of moonstone held a long, straight blade of fine steel folded with quicksilver. It suited her perfectly, just as my Hist bow suited me. Cirinwe smiled warmly when I told her that.

A few minutes later and we arrived at Rosentia Gallenus’s house, which dwarfed Deeh’s modest home. I couldn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, but I could definitely feel something. Cirinwe held her sword, still sheathed, in one hand to make it easier to draw. I knocked on the heavy wooden door, the sound of someone dropping cutlery echoed within the house.

“Mrs Gallenus? It’s Haa-Rei. Deeh said you might need some help.” I spoke through the keyhole, and after a few seconds the door opened ever so slightly, an Imperial’s eye peeping out through the gap.

“Oh, hello dear, it’s nice to see you.” apparently Rosentia was going to make this difficult.

“You too. This is my friend, Cirinwe. Can we come in?” I gestured to my companion, who bowed her head politely.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m with the Mages Guild.” Cirinwe knew exactly what to say. At the mention of the guild’s name, Rosentia’s eye sparkled.

“The guild? Come in, come in. Quick, quick.” The door opened just enough for us to squeeze through and swiftly slammed shut behind us. The smell of daedric magic was heavy on the air, though the smell of scamp mess was even stronger.

“Mrs Gallenus, what’s going on?” I reached for my bow, but the Imperial woman stopped me.

“That won’t be necessary. Right, where do I begin?” Rosentia sighed heavily, and then began her story.

Oh dear, he's going to do something heroic, just after he was told not to.

Like Haa-Rei, I nearly sputtered tea when Deeh referred to Ciri as his 'future daughter-in-law'. What a wonderful stroke to drop such a heavy-handed observation into the otherwise delicate dance of hearts between Scales and Scars! And the reactions from both were priceless. Adorable that their mutually growing affection is to obvious to all but themselves.

I'm so glad that Ciri has a claymore now instead of her old axe.

Uh-oh. Looks and smells like the lady's got a scamp problem. . . .

I love this observation of Has-Rei! This sums up Deeh's character so succinctly it told me oodles of this man's character! That for me was the standout. Of course, I'm with Acadian regarding the Daughter-in-Law comment. Classic!

ghastley - Some people just can't help it.

Acadian - A sword definitely suits Ciri better, and she'll no doubt put it to good use.

haute - Heh, I'm glad you like Deeh. He certainly earns his nickname, but at the same time he always does what's best for Haa-Rei...more or less



Previously - After waking up back at home, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spoke to Deeh. The old Argonian suggested that they look in on Rosentia Gallenus, who's been having some sort of trouble recently...

Chapter 62



“We’re getting some strange looks…” Cirinwe said, nodding to the townsfolk as we passed by. They looked horrified, and more than a little nervous.

“Hardly surprising.” I gestured to the scamps that were following at my heels.

As it turned out, Rosentia Gallenus’s house had become a playground for a group of scamps. Rosentia had purchased a strange staff from a passing adventurer and, after accidentally activating it, found that it was cursed. The curse meant that one could never throw the staff away, and the bearer of the staff would be followed around by four scamps.

The scamps themselves weren’t dangerous, but made a large mess of the Gallenus house. They could not be killed, as the staff seemed to be their point of binding. With help from the Mages Guild, Cirinwe and I learned that the only way to get rid of the staff for good was to take it to a nearby daedric shrine. This was why we now found ourselves walking through Leyawiin with our daedric followers. Fortunately the guards all recognised me, and allowed us to pass without any trouble.

The shrine lay in a cave to the south-east. I’d been there before, but never gone too far in on account of the creatures that resided inside. Unfortunately, with one of my hands now stuck on a staff, all the fighting would be left to Cirinwe.

“Ready?” I asked, nudging one of the scamps out of the way with the staff. They had an annoying habit of always being underfoot, which made my progress particularly slow.

“Ready.” Cirinwe nodded, raising her sword and slowly moving forward.

The scamps and I followed at a safe distance to allow Cirinwe enough room to move freely. The cave branched off in two separate directions, but each path smelled just as bad as the other. We hadn’t gone very far when we encountered our first enemies. Two scamps, larger than our own, warming themselves on a small fire. Cirinwe wasted no time, striding forward and cleaving one of them in two before they knew she was there. The second scamp batted at her with its claws, which had no effect on her heavy armour. It died soon after. I felt utterly useless, but nonetheless enjoyed watching Cirinwe work. Her graceful movements should have been completely at odds with her heavy armour and two-handed sword, but they actually complemented each other perfectly. She was a natural.

After waiting a few moments, Cirinwe moved on. I almost tripped on one of our scamps when it stopped to feed on one of the fallen enemies, but a nudge from the staff got it moving again.


I’d expected more resistance inside a daedric shrine, but after the first two scamps, we only encountered four more and a Clannfear. Cirinwe dealt with them most proficiently, and we reached the shrine itself quite quickly.

The shrine consisted of a raised dais in the centre of a large cavern. Two slabs of stone flanked either side, etched with daedric writing. In between these slabs was an altar and a large statue. I hurried to the altar and put the staff down, relieved to see that I could actually do so. The scamps wandered off without a second glance, apparently happy with their new home.

“Who’s that?” Cirinwe asked, gesturing towards the statue.

It depicted a well-dressed man, with a tidy beard and walking cane. He wore a jolly expression on his face, as if he was very amused by everything.

“Sheogorath.” I answered, bending down to look at some of the daedric script.

“Can you read it?” My Altmer companion asked, taking a seat on the edge of the dais to clean some of the daedric essence from her sword.

“Yes. It says…’everlasting life’.” I chuckled, suddenly the story of the staff became clear.

No doubt someone prayed to Sheogorath, asking him for everlasting life. The Madgod had agreed, and given the poor fool everlasting life…just not their own. Asking something of any daedra is tricky, they will always try and find loopholes to exploit people, but asking something of Sheogorath is particularly dangerous. Most of the stories which I have read about him end poorly for those involved, and always serve to entertain the Lord of Madness.

“Will the staff be safe here?” Cirinwe stood and began to make her way back to the cave.

“It’ll probably be withdrawn to Oblivion, unless a brave adventurer fights their way in here and claims it.” I jogged to catch up, making sure that the scamps weren’t still following me. I made a mental note to never pick up anything magical from a daedric shrine.

We made our way through the cave we’d already cleared, so it was just a short walk back to the entrance. We found 2 treasure chests on the way back, and split the gold between us. We decided to leave anything else we found, just in case.

Once outside, I took a deep breath of fresh air. As soon as I did, I froze.

“What’s wrong?” Cirinwe drew her sword, ready for whatever I’d sensed.

“Are you ready to fight more daedra?” I asked, drawing my bow. The air fizzed and crackled with energy, and everything went deathly silent for a few moments.

Then, with a great tearing and screaming sound, the air began to shift and shimmer. A small spark flashed through the air several metres away, and then erupted in a flash of blinding light. The ground around it burst into flame. I grabbed Cirinwe and pulled her back into the cave as a wave of heat washed over us. We stayed there for a few moments, until the sound and light died down a bit.

“What…” Cirinwe began to ask, but stopped when we stepped out of cover. A large arch of rocks had appeared, holding together a roaring portal of fire.

“That is an Oblivion Gate.” I recognised the look on Cirinwe’s face – a mixture of fear and curiosity that I was also feeling.

We stood in silence for a few moments, watching the swirling flame. Fortunately it didn’t seem to be spitting out any daedra just yet, but I had no doubts that it soon would. I felt Cirinwe’s hand brush against my own, her fingers intertwining with mine.

“How do we close it?” She asked, her eyes fixed on the portal.

“From inside.” I answered, squeezing her hand.

“I was afraid you’d say that.” She smiled nervously, resting her sword on one shoulder.

“We’ll be fine, I’ve done this before.” I grinned, stepping forward and leading her through the portal.

Here we go again.

I really admire your skill during the opening scene here as you, with an expert economy of words, show us what is going on.

Ugh. Sheogorath. Scamps begone!

Your description of an Oblivion Gate opening as Scales and Scars exited the dungeon was magnificent as you so perfectly captured the terrifying event.

Gulp!

And he's doing it again ... again!

Doesn't he know how the game mechanics work? If you close one at this stage, another will open.

Acadian - Thank you! A fun little side quest. Only Sheogorath would make such a powerful artifact for a practical joke.

ghastley - Someone else can handle the other gates, there are adventurers everywhere these days!



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe returned the Staff of Everscamp to Sheogorath's Shrine on behalf of Rosentia Gallenus. Oblivion was not done with them yet, however, as an Oblivion gate opened up right outside the cave. Hand in hand, the two adventurers journeyed to the deadlands...

Chapter 63



“So, this is Oblivion…” Cirinwe said as we emerged from the gate.

“It is.” I confirmed, scanning the immediate area for threats.

The gate was located on a small, rocky island in the middle of a vast sea of lava. The sea stretched to the horizon in almost every direction, flame atronachs dancing through the molten waves. Ahead of us was a second, larger island upon which sat a single tower of twisted metal.

“Now what?” Cirinwe asked. Her brow was already beaded with sweat, the heat from the sea was incredible.

“We need to find the sigil stone. It’ll most likely be in that tower.” I nodded towards the structure, but I could see no way to reach it. Did the daedra use boats?

“How do the daedra plan to attack through the gate if they can’t reach it themselves?” Cirinwe astutely observed. Either the daedra had no control over their portal placement (somewhat likely) or they had another way to reach it (most likely).

It was a Clannfear that answered our question. A scrabbling noise to our left announced the creature’s arrival…from underground. It died almost immediately after surfacing, an arrow in its flank. An entrance had been hidden behind some rocks, no doubt we would have never found it without daedric assistance.

The entrance led to a narrow tunnel, which required us to crouch through, and eventually opened up into a large, dark chamber. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but once they did I could see quite clearly. A gasp from behind indicated that Cirinwe could too.

“Haa-Rei, they’re…” she trailed off, gazing at the dozens of small alcoves that were hewn into the walls. Every single one was occupied by a Clannfear, curled into a tight ball with their shield-like heads protecting them.

“Sleeping, yes. Best we not wake them.” I whispered, gesturing for Cirinwe to follow.

The chamber led to a large corridor, which seemed to go in a more-or-less perfectly straight line in front of us. On either side there were numerous smaller side passages, no doubt containing more chambers. There could have been thousands of sleeping Clannfear all around us.

We moved slowly and quietly so as not to wake anyone, and kept heading down the main corridor. We were directly beneath the lava sea, the heat pressing down on us from all directions. Every so often a crack in the wall would reveal bubbling streams of molten rock, or belch out gouts of thick fumes.

Cirinwe was dripping with sweat, and looked as if she might collapse at any moment, but refused to rest. Eventually, after an hour or two of walking, the air began to cool down and the walls of the tunnel became smoother. Carvings and decorations began to appear, indicating some aspect of civilisation.

“We’re past the sea.” I whispered, taking a seat on the edge of a large blood fountain. I dug around in my pack until I found some water and took a long drink. Cirinwe did the same, and poured some over her face and neck. Once she was ready, we moved on.

The temperature dropped quite rapidly as we moved away from the sea, going from one extreme to another, but Cirinwe didn’t seem to mind the cold quite so much as the heat. The tunnel had begun to curve upward very gradually, and we soon found ourselves outside a small door. The guardians at the door, two scamps, fell quickly and quietly.

The door opened into a large, round room. In the centre was a familiar pillar of howling light, atop which we would find the sigil stone. Cirinwe led the way up the tower’s winding stairs, throwing off several daedra as we moved from room to room. I made sure to prioritise anything with ranged attacks, and we made swift progress. We paused for a rest about halfway up.

“The Deadlands…is a lot livelier than one would have assumed.” Cirinwe smiled, taking another drink from her water skin. Her face and hair were covered in soot, grime, and daedric viscera. She looked beautiful.

“Well I just hope that-“ whatever wry quip I was going to say was lost to Oblivion as an odd feeling came over me. It felt like…

“I knew it!” A voice piped up from behind me, and Cirinwe sprang forward with sword in hand.

“Ciri, wait!” I moved quicker, standing between Cirinwe and the small flame atronach. “It’s alright, she’s…a friend.”

“Hello!” the atronach said to Cirinwe over my shoulder, “My name is Eithne, pleased to meet you.”

“Erm…likewise. I’m Cirinwe.” Cirinwe looked a little unsure, but seemed willing to trust this strange creature as long as I was.

“How…what...” I was utterly speechless. She looked smaller than usual, but floating before us was my flame atronach, Eithne, who had been lost to me on my previous trip to Oblivion.

“No time, Master, I’ll explain later. You need to close the gate, quick quick.” Eithne pirouetted a few times to illustrate haste.

“Why the urgency?” Cirinwe asked, relaxing her stance.

“The daedra are mobilising to go through the gate soon.” The flame atronach didn’t wait for a reply, and began heading towards the stairs, followed closely by Cirinwe. I collected my jaw from where it had dropped and hurried after them.

Our progress was even faster with Eithne acting as a fire shield. Any attack from scamps or other flame atronachs was immediately intercepted and absorbed. Thankfully the daedra hadn’t expected anyone to get this far, and the final chamber was mostly unguarded. The sigil stone sat atop its light pillar, glowing fiercely.

“What will happen to you this time?” I asked Eithne when we reached the stone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you. Quickly now, get the stone. Make sure you’re both touching each other or one might get left behind.” Eithne placed one hand on the stone, and gestured for me to do the same.

I turned to Cirinwe, who took one of my hands in her own and nodded. I grabbed the stone and heaved it from its pedestal. White light filled my vision, I felt Cirinwe’s grip tighten, and then…the two of us were back in Tamriel.

I never did quite determine the "rules" for who comes back out of a closing gate. The game gives us Farwil and Semyan, who emerge from the Cheydinhal gate, if you're tolerant. But there's also Menien, so it's not just who's still alive, although it could be ...

And then "the two of us were back in Tamriel" and not three.

I loved your depiction of the ominously sleeping clannfears. It conjured the same impending doom that those sleeping metal constructs do when in dwemer ruins.

'Cirinwe smiled, taking another drink from her water skin. Her face and hair were covered in soot, grime, and daedric viscera. She looked beautiful.' - - Aww.

I was pleased to see you use the same convention that I use in Buffy fiction about who gets out of a gate – anyone connected to the sigil stone when it is removed. Even if the game doesn’t necessarily do exactly this.

Like ghastley, I wonder now about dear little long-lost Eithne? Hope she made it – perhaps as a spirit within Haa-Rei?

ghastley - Yes, the game is rather vague on that. I went with the "you have to be touching the stone" angle just to be safe, but it's certainly interesting to consider the implications of other gate rules.

Acadian - Haa-Rei is nowhere near the spiritcatcher that Buffy is! I'm not sure the werewolf spirit would want to share with anyone anyway.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe journeyed to Oblivion, and after fighting their way through many daedra and being reunited with long-lost Eithne, retrieved the sigil stone and appeared back in Tamriel...

Chapter 64



Cirinwe slumped heavily to the ground, lying on her back to catch her breath. At first we simply stared at each other in silence, until she suddenly started to laugh. I could understand the feeling – we’d just fought our way through a horde of daedra and closed an oblivion gate, and we were very much alive.

“That was…”she paused, trying to think of an appropriate word.

“Heroic? Dramatic? Exhausting?” I offered.

“Yes.” she replied, sitting up and taking a deep breath. “Wait…where’s the atronach?”

Eithne hadn’t appeared back in Tamriel with us, but I knew where she was. I still had the sigil stone in my hand, and I could feel her essence within.

“She bound part of herself to the stone, to make sure she didn’t get trapped again. It shouldn’t be too hard to…” I focused my magicka on the stone and cast the summoning spell. A whoosh of energy heralded Eithne’s arrival.

“Ah, that’s much better. Thank you, Master.” Eithne somersaulted happily, no doubt pleased to be free of any restraints for the first time in a while. She stretched her arms, the lithe movements reminded me of a cat.

“It’s good to see you again, Eithne. Can you tell me what happened now?”

“Of course, of course. The last time we saw each other, you were grabbing a sigil stone while I valiantly held back some dremora, yes? Well they weren’t too happy about it, and managed to rebind my energy before I could leave.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” I frowned. I’d always considered my summons to be a reliable safety net, but if even they are in danger from Oblivion…

“It takes a being of significant power to do it. We were just unlucky enough to run into the lord of that particular area. He later trapped me in that second sigil stone, hoping that he could force me to defend it.”

“…but you didn’t.” pointed out Cirinwe.

“At first I did, but after studying the stone for a while, I figured out how it worked and managed to loosen my shackles. Thanks to your timely rescue, I’m free again and bound to you.”

“That’s a relief. Can I safely de-summon you now?”

“Oh yes, it’s quite safe. No more Deadlands though, yes?”

“Agreed. See you later, Eithne.” I raised one hand to de-summon her and waved goodbye with the other.

I walked over to Cirinwe and sat down beside her, my limbs aching from all the exertion of the last few hours. We sat in silence for a while as life gradually returned to the area. Birds returned to their songs, a lone rabbit moved from cover to cover in its hunt for food, and in the distance a dreugh fished for mudcrabs by a small stream. The only suggestion that anything had been amiss was the black stone arch of the Oblivion Gate, now quiet and cold.

“That was terrifying…” Cirinwe said after a while, “but at the same time, quite exciting. We were actually in Oblivion….it’s amazing.” She smiled again, looking a touch exhausted.

“We’ll make an adventurer of you yet.” I chuckled, climbing to my feet. I helped Cirinwe up and together we headed back to Lleyawiin.

The town was as quiet as ever. Nobody seemed to have noticed the daedric portal popping up outside, though that may well be for the best. We headed straight for Deeh’s house, where Cirinwe immediately readied herself a bath. I took a seat in the main room to right a brief report to the Blades, concerning recent events in Leyawiin – The Hist, the gate, and any rumours I’d heard. After sealing the letter, I made myself some tea and relaxed in my chair, listening to Cirinwe as she sang quietly to herself. The words of the song were in Elvish, which I did not speak, but her voice was breathtaking.

“Beautiful.” remarked Deeh, who had just arrived.

“Yes” I agreed.

“She’s a nice person too.”

“Yes.”

“and strong.”

“Yes.”

“and intelligent.”

“Yes.”

“I’m happy for you.” Deeh smiled.

“Hm?” I had only been half paying attention to him, but I heard the last part loud and clear.

“You and Cirinwe.” he clarified. “You make a good couple.”

“I…we’re not…”

“You sure?” I raised a brow, but I had no answer. Are we? How does one know? Should I ask her for clarification?

“Ah, hello Deeh.” Cirinwe greeted the old Argonian with a smile as she emerged from the bathroom, hopefully she hadn't overheard anything.

She was wearing a baggy pair of breeches and an oversized shirt, a towel in one hand as she attempted to dry her long hair, which reached down to her waist when not tied up. Without her armour on I could see the clear definition of the muscles on her arms, and realised just how much her physical fitness had come along since she first picked up a sword.

“Hello my dear. Tea?” Deeh framed it as a question, but had already began pouring her a cup. No doubt a habit he had developed after raising me for so many years.

“Thank you.” Cirinwe took a sip as she seated herself by the fire.

“You have a beautiful signing voice, by the way.” Deeh said casually, causing Cirinwe’s face to turn beet red.

“...thank you.” Cirinwe replied quietly, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh, by the way Deeh,” I began, moving the conversation to a subject that didn’t make Cirinwe so embarrassed, “we solved Rosentia Gallenus’s problem.”

“Ah, now this sounds like a tale I’ll want to hear.” Deeh sat up straight in his chair, ever the one for gossip. Cirinwe sent a glance my way to show her appreciation.

And so I began recounting recent events, and after recovering from her embarrassment, Cirinwe fell into the conversation too, and I let her take over the telling of it. We left out the part with the Oblivion gate, for obvious reasons. I’ve never been one for much talking, but as long as Cirinwe was there I could talk until the rivers ran dry. Or the tea, in this case.

tl:dr Tea solves everything.

I was so pleased that dear Eithne made it back and enjoyed the imagination you used in doing so.

Hee! Another elf with a beautiful singing voice, it seems!

Loved the gentle ‘nudges’ Deeh gave the reluctant (oblivious?) Haa-Rei regarding Ciri.

Yes, hot tea is good.

As ever, this is such a wonderful story to curl up with and enjoy.

ghastley - Yep, that pretty much sums up 90% of the story

Acadian - There'll certainly be more Eithne at some point, and more tea.



Previously - After arriving safely back in Tamriel, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spoke with Eithne about her recent time in Oblivion. Afterwards, the pair returned to Leyawiin to catch up with Deeh.

Chapter 65



After hearing the tale of our recent adventures, Deeh bid Cirinwe and I a good evening and headed to the tavern, as is his custom on a Fredas night. Once alone, Cirinwe had several questions about recent events.

“Ask away.” I said, pouring myself another cup of tea.

“The Blackwood’s Hist tree. What was wrong with it?”

“Well…in Black Marsh, all Hist trees linked together. They talk to each other, and can see what’s happening in every corner of the Marsh all at once. This tree had been torn away from that, and placed in a basement. No sun, no soil, no fresh water, nobody to talk to. On top of that, its sap was being physically drained from its body.”

“So…it was sick? Was that why the sap made them act…the way they did?”

“Hist sap isn’t just sap. When an Argonian is born, they drink the sap and physically link themselves to the Hist, and are imbued with the collective knowledge of all Argonians before them. Then when an Argonian dies, their soul returns to the Hist and their memories are passed on to the next generation through the sap. For anyone to drink that, let alone non-Argonians, will take its toll.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Hist sap is…sort of like the distilled essence of every Argonian soul that has ever existed, or will ever exist. To take it from a Hist tree like the Blackwoods did, and then to use it as a fortifying tonic?” I shook my head. There was no word for how disgusted it made me feel.

“Then I’m glad we stopped them.” Cirinwe paused for a few moments to absorb the information before pressing on, “When the Hist tree…died…what happened to you?”

“That odd feeling I’d been having…that was the tree trying to communicate. Its thoughts were all confused and jumbled so I didn’t understand, but it was still communicating when it died. It shared its pain with me, unknowingly. It felt like my blood was boiling in my veins, being burned from the inside out.” I could only vaguely remember the feeling, but even the memory made me feel uncomfortable. Cirinwe subconsciously rubbed her scarred face.

“I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for prying. I just…want to understand more.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to answer whatever questions you have.”

“I have more I want to ask, but…they can wait for another time.” her sentence was interrupted by a yawn. We’d been very busy recently, and it was getting late.

“Sure. I’ll get the spare room set up for you.” It was technically Amusei’s room, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind.

“Actually…I thought I’d just sleep in your bed.” Cirinwe’s bright red face was at odds with her assertive tone.

“My…with me? In the same…I don’t….” I had several things I wanted to say, but they all tumbled out at the same time.

“I know you don’t have any interest in…the physical aspects of a relationship…but I’m very fond of you. I want to spend time with you, and be close to you, and I think you feel the same way…hopefully” Cirinwe moved closer, and took my hands in her own. We were both shaking slightly.

“I…am very fond of you too.” I said. For a few moments we stood silently, and then I made the mistake of looking Cirinwe in the eye. We burst into laughter.

“We’re not very good at this, are we?” Cirinwe smiled, the laughter washing away any embarrassment. She leaned down to touch her forehead to mine, her face was warm and her sweet scent filled my nose.

“I think…we work well together.” I felt comfortable, and content. I could feel Cirinwe’s muscular arms wrap around my shoulders, and wanted to stay like that forever.



“Morning.” Deeh grumbled when I shuffled into the kitchen the next day. He was slumped on the table, resting his head gently in his hands. A hangover, no doubt.

I made a vague noise in greeting, and took a seat next to Cirinwe, who had awoken long before me. It was cold, and I was taking a long time to fully wake up.

“You two certainly aren’t morning people.” Cirinwe laughed, pouring us all some tea.

“Oh, how cruel. Mocking this poor old lizard while he’s in such a state.” Deeh wailed dramatically.

“I’m guessing you won’t be going to the market today then.” I asked, taking a long sip of tea. Warmth spread through my chest, and I began to feel a little more alive.

“I’m afraid not, my boy. If I move from this position, my head may very well fall off.”

“What a shame that would be.” I finished my tea and stretched, my joints starting to loosen up. “I suppose I’ll have to go.”

“I’ll join you.” Cirinwe smiled, tying her hair up into the usual ponytail.

The two of us left Deeh to nurse his hangover and headed into town. Loredas was the busiest day of the week, since it was the day that many traders set up stalls in the market. Butchers, bakers, grocers, armourers – everyone was out and about. Many people stopped to chat with neighbours that they might not see during the week, catching up on any recent gossip. I was glad to spot Rosentia Gallenus in the crowd, who waved politely to Cirinwe and I.

“Where should we go first?” Cirinwe asked, her height allowing her a good view of the entire market.

“We’ll start with the butcher, and work around from there.” I moved my hands in a sweeping motion to illustrate the battle plan.

Shopping was much easier with an extra pair of hands. Especially when those hands were stronger than mine, and thus able to carry more. We managed to finish quite quickly, and took a seat on a bench for a bite to eat. A nearby fried food stall had caught Cirinwe’s attention, so we’d paid it a visit. The meal was a simple bowl of fried meat and vegetables, but it was warm, filling, and delicious.

“That’s odd.” Cirinwe said suddenly.

“Hm?” my mouth was full, so I had to make inquiries with a raised brow.

“There’s a note in my pocket. Someone must have slipped it in while we were walking around.” Cirinwe produced a square of folded parchment, setting down her food to get a better look.

On unfolding, the parchment revealed itself to be a map, indicating a location to the south of town. I knew the location, some sunken ruins on the coast. What intrigued me was the scent that clung faintly to the parchment.

“Strange.” I muttered.

“Oh?”

“It’s a familiar scent. Nightshade perfume, old stone…”

Trivea.

Another delightful interlude. Great job allowing Haa-Rei to explain to Ciri (and us) more about the nature of how the Hist relates to Argonians. Through the tree are passed the species/racial memories. I should think this allows hatchlings – like wolves – to start life with a significant advantage that men and mer lack: instincts.

Scars and Scales continue to grow closer. Haa-Rei has just gained the advantage of a nice way to keep his body temperature up through the night via proximity to Ciri.

I loved their lazily lingering day of shopping as well.

And, a mysterious map heralding a new adventure?

And it's not mutually exclusive with a pot of warming tea. Especially if she learns to brew one properly.

Trivea, however, probably lowers the blood temperature.

Acadian - Shopping breaks are one of the most important parts of an adventurer's life, as I'm sure Buffy would agree

ghastley - I wonder what would happen if a warm Altmer and a chilly vampire Dunmer stood too close to each other. A Bosmer thunderstorm?



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe further discussed the Hist, as well as their own relationship, and spent the following morning at the market. However, a mysterious map heralds a new adventure...

Chapter 66



The last time I’d seen Trivea had been on Solstheim, after living under her protection for several weeks while she helped me control my lycanthropy. I was looking forward to seeing her again, but I was also curious to learn why she felt the need for all the secrecy.

I would soon learn why, but before we could head outside the city, Cirinwe needed to put her armour on. It was no simple task, with more straps and buckles than an entire Imperial legion. The first layer of armour was a leather bodysuit, similar to those worn by assassins, with a light feather enchantment to make the following layers of equipment a little lighter. On top of this was a shirt of chainmail, with thicker leather padding in certain areas to make it more comfortable, a pair of thigh high leather and steel boots, and a skirt of thick leather pteruges. The final layer was the various bits of steel that formed the bulk of the armour, made up of overlapping plates which glowed dimly with various enchantments. The vine-patterned donations from the Blackwood company were still unenchanted, but looked very impressive.

“That’s better.” Cirinwe smiled as she flexed her fingers experimentally in her gauntlets. She looked much more comfortable in her armour than she did out of it.

“That was exhausting.” I took a seat on the edge of the bed and wriggled into my own armour, which was a significantly easier task and required no extra pairs of hands.

“So we know who this map leads to, but do we know where exactly?” Cirinwe looked at Trivea’s vague map again, which I had already compared to my own.

“The only thing out there is a pile of stones where a house used to be.” I had explored the area many times before, and couldn’t think why Trivea had chosen such a location.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” Cirinwe handed me my bow, picked up her sword, and lead the way outside.

The earlier bustle from the market had died down now, though there were a few people still wandering around in the warm sun. Cirinwe and I crossed town quickly and headed out through the east gate. It was only a short journey to the coast and the ruined house.

“Well…she’s definitely been here,” I raised my nose to the wind, catching Trivea’s scent. “but she’s not here now.”

“Maybe she’s left a clue?” Cirinwe said hopefully.

“Let’s look around.” I nodded, and we split up to search the area.

The house had been demolished long before I came to Leyawiin, and I wasn’t sure that anyone even knew it had ever existed. Piles of stone in the water nearby suggested that before the house, a larger structure had stood watch on the coast, but the sea had claimed it long ago.

“I’ve got something!” Cirinwe called out from behind some rocks, and I hurried over.

Hidden amongst the rocks and bushes was a trapdoor, possibly the cellar of the older structures. Unfortunately it was locked from the inside, with no outer lock for me to pick. More importantly, however, were the rocks themselves – and the symbols scratched onto them.

“This looks…elven?” The letters resembled those I’d seen in Ayleid ruins, and had recently been scrawled onto the stone.

“Vea Garlas,” Cirinwe read over my shoulder, “it’s Ayleidoon for ‘sea cave’.”

“Have you tried out the ring of Rumare yet?” I asked, looking out towards the submerged ruins.

“No, but I assume that’s about to change.” Cirinwe removed a gauntlet, revealing the ring underneath.

When we arrived at the water’s edge Cirinwe dipped her hand in, causing the ring to glow brightly. With the enchantment active, she proceeded to walk carefully into the sea. Wherever the water touched her, a thin blue barrier appeared and kept her dry.

“Must be nice.” I muttered, pulling off my boots. Once I had stripped down to my greaves, I waded in to join her.

“This is amazing, though I’m not sure it’ll help me swim.”

“True. I’ll have a look around first.” I took one last look at the shore to get my bearings, then dove off the rocky outcrop and into the deep.

It was a surprisingly sudden drop, in no small part due to the amount of rubble that littered the shore. Even though she could breathe underwater, Cirinwe would have trouble moving in her armour, or seeing where she was going. I had no such problems, and quickly found a small cave entrance. After going back for Cirinwe, I lead her to the entrance, glad to learn that the ring gave her some degree of buoyancy to help her move around. After swimming through the cave, we emerged into a relatively dry cavern, and I quickly dressed myself before proceeding.

“Took you long enough.” A voice spoke from the shadows ahead.

“Lurking in a shadowy lair, Trivea? You’ve read too many bad adventure novels.” I focused my eyes on the spot where her scent was the strongest, and sure enough the Dunmer soon emerged, the shadows clinging to her like cobwebs.

For a few moments she simply stared at me, her red eyes burning like coals, but then the mask slipped and she broke into a smile.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my dear. Oh, and you even brought lunch.” The vampire slinked forward to stand in front of Cirinwe. The pale shape of Trivea could not have been more different to the gold-skinned Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei has told me so much about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet.” The Altmer smiled brightly, showing no signs of being intimidated.

“I like her.” Trivea smiled as she turned to me, leading us further into the cave. The tunnel soon opened up into a large room, which featured several comfortable chairs. I didn’t ask how Trivea had got them in here.

“Well now that that’s out of the way,” I sighed as we all sat down, “perhaps you could tell us at this is all about.”

“Yes, sorry for all the cloak and dagger. I need your help with something.” Trivea lounged casually in her chair, but I could tell that whatever she needed help with was causing her some concern.

This was going to be interesting.

Hasn't he learned about "interesting" yet?

Someone might get cruor on their pteruges!

In truth, the name Trivea from your last episode did not trigger recognition. When your first paragraph of this episode reminded us of her role and who she was, the Dunmeri vampire and Haa-Rei’s hunting and lycanthropy lessons all came back clearly – well done and timely review of who she is.

I enjoyed the recognition that Cirinwe’s heavy armor is complex and cumbersome enough that having help putting it all on and together would be very appropriate and welcome.

I learned only recently in ESO that ‘Ayleidoon’ is indeed what the Ayleid language is called. Neat to see you use that term.

I love your descriptions of the ring and watery transit into the cave where they found Trivea.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my dear. Oh, and you even brought lunch.” The vampire slinked forward to stand in front of Cirinwe. The pale shape of Trivea could not have been more different to the gold-skinned Cirinwe. ‘ - -

ghastley - adventurers never learn

Acadian - the amount of straps, buckles and bits of metal on Ciri's in-game gear is incredible. Definitely not something she can just slip in and out of.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe followed the clues and eventually found Trivea's lair...

Chapter 67



“It’s a…delicate situation.” Trivea began.

“Go on…” I encouraged her, keen to hear the story.

“Well, an acquaintance of mine in Anvil needs your help. She has reason to believe that a slaver has taken control of the port authority.”

“Taken control how?” I asked.

“I don’t know all the details,” Trivea shrugged, “just that my friend wants to take this slaver out of business and make sure any slaves he owns are safe, without causing too much fuss in the town. With your prior experience, you’d be perfect for the job.”

“Wouldn’t this be better dealt with by the authorities?” Cirinwe asked, looking concerned.

“They’re too busy with oblivion gates and politics right now. Besides, the dockmaster is the authority, and he’s in the slaver’s pocket.”

“I’ll help your friend.” I decided. If Trivea thought it significant enough to ask for help, it would be worth doing. More so if this person actually was involved in slavery.

“Thank you my dear. Here are the details,” Trivea produced a scroll and handed it to me. It contained information about her friend, and where to meet. “now, what do you need help with?”

Cirinwe and I explained the situation regarding my lycanthropy, and the ever-increasing strain I was being put under. Trivea listened, and asked various questions, before vanishing into a side room and returning with several books. Her slim, grey fingers flicked through the pages with practiced ease, until she found what she was looking for. She frowned.

Cirinwe reached under the table and took one of my hands in her own. Her golden skin was warm to the touch. I wasn’t sure which one of us was more nervous.

“Something serious?” I asked anxiously.

“Yes and no. The wolf spirit is getting stronger as we approach the next Bloodmoon, and will most likely take control then. This will also be an opportunity for you to contact Hircine, though, which might be your only option.”

“How long until the Bloodmoon?”

“A few days.”

“Then I’d best not waste any time. Hircine’s shrine is to the north.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Trivea also decided.

“You will?” I asked, surprised. It was most unlike her to leave her lair for anything other than personal business.

“Of course. If you’re going to talk to Hircine, I’d like to be there. It will be very interesting to watch.” The Dunmer winked cheekily, though I was still not convinced.

“Alright then, we’ll meet you there. Thank you, Trivea.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you might still die.” The vampire smiled cheerfully, and escorted us to the exit.

The trapdoor was a much better way out than the sea cave would have been. Cirinwe and I quickly made our way back to Leyawiin, both deep in thought. No doubt the idea of a slaver running around Anvil was causing Cirinwe some concern.

When we got back to the house, we found it empty. Deeh was most likely at the tavern, so I wrote him a note to more-or-less explain the situation while Cirinwe packed some provisions for the journey.

“I’m not sure how far we’ll get today, since it’s already getting pretty late.” I peered out of the window at the sky, which was almost too cloudy to see the afternoon sun.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll get there. I don’t think this is something we want to be late for.” Cirinwe shouldered her pack and adjusted the straps on one gauntlet.

“It’s certainly going to be an experience.” I smiled, making sure my own gear was all ready.


We made camp only a few hours later, a little ways off the road between Leyawiin and Bravil. A ruined farmhouse made for a comfortable shelter, and I summoned Eithne to keep watch. The atronach was very happy to be there, and seated herself right in the campfire. The three of us chatted for a while, before Cirinwe went to sleep.

“Meeting a daedric prince, hm?” Eithne asked into the night.

“Yes. Any tips?” I was only half-joking.

“Be polite.” The flame atronach suggested, a flurry sparks floating into the air as she adjusted her seating position.

“I’d have thought that went without saying.”

“You’d be surprised. Lots of mortals have very poor manners, especially mages.” Without any facial expressions it was difficult to tell if she was joking or not.

“Hircine will want an offering too, right?”

“Of course. Perhaps an animal pelt?”

“That’s a good idea. Keep an eye on things here for a bit, Eithne. I’m going for a walk.” I glanced at Cirinwe, who was still fast asleep, and picked up my bow.

“Please be careful, master.” Eithne made a show of stretching her arms, looking very relaxed. I smiled and stepped quietly into the undergrowth.


It was a dark night, the moons obscured by thick clouds. Fortunately the ground was dry, and I could easily make out dozens of different animal tracks. Deer, boar, wolf, dreugh. What would Hircine prefer? Would wolf be alright, or would that offend him?

The decision was made for me a short while later. The wolf tracks I’d been following lead to a large clearing, and the carcass of a large elk. The wolves were long gone, but as I examined the elk, a rustling behind me heralded the arrival of my prey.

A large bear, with fur so light it was almost golden. A male, judging from the sheer muscle mass, looking to scavenge what it could.

As soon as the beast saw me it growled a throaty challenge, there would be no sneaking away.

“Well I hope Hircine likes bear.” I sighed, readying my bow.

I had to go read how the standard Oblivion Daedric quest runs, in anticipation of this. My own game has had it modified for a long time, and I've almost forgotten the original.

Hope that Haa-Rei enjoys the experience.

You've got me wondering if Eithne's presence is just background colour, or if there's an upcoming role, too.

Aww, Ciri and Haa-Rei nervously holding hands as they wait to hear what the vampire wants.

I know that Haa-Rei considers Trivea a friend so was not surprised that he readily accepted her request for help. Then I was pleased to learn that Trivea returned the favor with advice for the reptilian werewolf and that she would even make an appearance at Uncle Hircine’s shrine.

Golden bear it is to be then? Should make a fine offering.

ghastley - I'm afraid my version of Hircine's quest won't make as much use of bedrolls and nude Bretons as yours, but it won't be base-game either.

Acadian - Yep, Haa-Rei has absolute trust in Trivea. She's several thousand years old, after all, so she knows what she's doing...probably.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe met Trivea, who suggested that Haa-Rei's lycanthropy control problems may be caused by the approaching bloodmoon. With this information in hand, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe set out for Hircine's shrine. One night, while exploring the woods, Haa-Rei encounters a large bear, and a confrontation is inevitable...

Chapter 68



I managed to loose an arrow in the bear’s flank before I had to leap out of the way. A massive paw carved a deep gouge in the ground where I’d been standing. Using trees for cover, I fell into a steady rhythm of shooting and moving. Since Eithne was back at camp, I couldn’t summon Thiazzi for assistance and had to rely entirely on my bow.

I was surprised at the bear’s initial aggressiveness. Usually a bear at this time of year would be happy to go about its business, yet this behemoth had attacked first. It could spin around quickly, and its arms gave it an impressive reach.

Another paw crashed into a sapling several feet away, snapping the frail branches with ease. My limbs were only slightly sturdier, and would no doubt share a similar fate if I was caught.

Eventually, breathing heavily, the bear paused its assault. It was bleeding from a dozen arrow wounds, and steam rose off its body in the cool night air. I could see that its muscles were tense, ready to strike, and readied by bow for a final attack.

The creature moved faster than expected, but I was ready. My arrow lanced through the air to meet the oncoming mass of fur, and planted itself in the bear’s neck. I slumped to the ground, exhausted, as the bear toppled over. The tree behind me wept sap from a deep set of claw marks – too close for comfort.


With the hunt complete, all that was left was to take the pelt. It was a difficult task, and my arms felt like stone as I willed them to keep moving. Most of my arrows were too damaged to be of use after retrieval, but what caught my attention the most was what wasn’t mine. A crossbow bolt, lodged deep in the bear’s shoulder.

“I’m not the first hunter you encountered this evening.” I muttered, examining the bolt. It had a steel head, designed for puncturing armour and no doubt extremely painful for the bear to carry around. No wonder it had been so aggressive.


I put the bolt to one side as I finished removing the pelt. After that I started on the meat, not wanting to leave anything behind. It was a significant amount of work for one tired Argonian, but after a while I noticed that I had company.

Several pairs of eyes peered at me from the shadows, the pack of wolves I’d originally tracked here. I stood up slowly as a particularly large pair of wolves, no doubt the alphas, emerged from the gloom. There was no way I could carry all of this meat with me, and they looked like they could use it.

I quickly and carefully gathered my belongings, and the pelt, and left the clearing. The alpha wolves wasted no time in starting their meal while the rest of the pack explored the area, waiting for their turn to feed.

Back at camp, I hung the pelt on a nearby branch to dry. After chatting with Eithne for a few minutes I bid her goodnight and flopped down onto my bedroll, too tired to even take off my boots. A few moments later an arm appeared around me, and I felt Cirinwe bury her face in my feathery head spines. I fell asleep almost immediately.


The following morning, my arms still ached. Unfortunately there was still work to do, as I had to clean the bear pelt to make it easier to carry. It would also improve the smell, which was a bonus.

“Let me take over, you look as if your arms are going to fall off.” Cirinwe had been watching me intently for a while now, and gestured for me to hand over the knife.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I think so.”

Just to be sure, I spent a few minutes going over everything with her. She took to it very quickly, and was soon humming happily to herself as she worked.

I had de-summoned Eithne earlier that morning, so our campsite was very peaceful with just the two of us. I had enjoyed seeing Deeh back in Leyawiin, but there was truly nothing better than being out in the forest. We spent an entire day working on bear pelt, meat, and claws, until we were both exhausted.

The next day, at Cirinwe’s insistence, we found a secluded pool of water where we could wash away some of the musky bear smell that clung to us both. I averted my eyes while Cirinwe undressed and carefully stepped into the water, my attention was instead focused on the crossbow bolt I had retrieved from the bear’s shoulder.

I felt…angry at the thought of anyone shooting an animal and then leaving it to wander off. If the bear hadn’t encountered me, who knows who might have been hurt or killed? There were hundreds of small farms and villages in Cyrodiil that weren’t equipped to handle such a beast, and with Oblivion gates popping up all over the countryside, there were less guards on the roads too.

“Are you coming in or not?” Cirinwe interrupted my thoughts with a splash of cold water.

“No thank you, I’m quite happy here where it’s warm and dry.”

“I thought Argonians liked swimming.”

“Not this one. Besides, the water’s cold.” I dipped the tip of my tail in experimentally, and swiftly withdrew it. The rocky pool was sheltered overhead by trees, and had no sun to warm it up.

Cirinwe laughed and splashed me again before returning to her swimming. The water was almost perfectly clear, and I realised that this was the first time I had seen her in such a state of undress. I could see that as well as her face, almost half of her torso was covered in burn scars, as well as both arms from fingertip to elbow. The rest of her golden skin was completely free of blemishes, which was quite a striking contrast. I suddenly realised that I was staring, and quickly turned my attention elsewhere.

After Cirinwe was sufficiently bathed and I had reluctantly washed the smell of bear from my hands in the chilly pool, we made camp. Despite the urgency of our journey, we’d spent two days in the forest without much progress, and yet I couldn’t say that they’d been wasted. Barring any further distractions, we would make it to Hircine’s shrine in a couple of days.

I only hoped that the bear would be the toughest challenge of this journey.

This was a wonderful interlude! An intense fight that included a likely reason the golden bear was so ornery. Then a nice day or two processing the animal’s bounty by the riverside camp with Cirinwe.

Haa-Rei dipping the tip of his tail in the water to see how cold it was!

Acadian - Yep yep, some things can't be rushed. Especially not an elf and a body of water.



Previously - After bringing down a great bear, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spent a couple of days resting and cleaning the spoils of the kill. After taking some time to relax at a secluded pool, they resumed their journey towards Hircine's Shrine...

Chapter 69



“Last one?” Cirinwe asked as I drank a Lycanthropy potion.

“Last one.” I confirmed, wincing at the bitterness. I had been having a werewolf dream every night for the past few nights, and had to take two potions a day to prevent unwanted transformations. With no more potions left it was more important than ever that I find Hircine’s shrine.

It had been a couple of days since our time at the pool. According to the directions provided by Trivea (who was still nowhere to be seen) the shrine of Hircine should have been very close. Eventually, after much wandering back and forth, we found it tucked away deep in the forest.

I’m not sure what I’d been expecting from a daedric shrine, but this was more like a camp in front of a statue…in fact that’s exactly what it was. Three hunters - a Bosmer, an Argonian, and a Khajiit, seemed to reside here. The statue itself was a classic depiction of Hircine – a muscular man with the head of a stag, flanked by a great wolf. The pale stone, although weathered, was in pristine condition – no doubt thanks to the efforts of the devoted who lived here. Candles adorned the base of the shrine, illuminating it in the night.

“You approach the Shrine of Hircine. Are you hunter, or are you prey?” The Khajiit turned to us and called out, her bow in hand but not drawn. Her two companions were similarly alert, but not threatening. I imagined that it wasn't easy to be a daedric worshipper at the best of times, let alone when Oblivion gates were popping up and giving Daedra a bad name.

“Hunter.” I replied, stepping forward.

“Then approach the shrine, leave our lord an offering that he may find you worthy. Or perhaps learn what it is to be prey.” The last part was a clear threat, but all three hunters visibly relaxed when I produced the golden bear pelt from my pack.

I approached the shrine carefully, aware that everyone was watching intently, and lay the pelt at Hircine’s feet. Nothing happened. I turned to glance at Cirinwe, who shrugged helplessly, but paused as a green light shone upon me. The eyes of the statue glowed with power. Hircine was here.

“Summoned by prey. The hare crouches before the fox’s muzzle.” A great voice echoed from the statue, causing the three hunters to bow simultaneously. “Ah, not a hare. Not a mortal. Why have you come, pup?” Hircine’s voice audibly warmed when he recognised me as a werewolf. It was not any more comforting, however.

“My lord Hircine, I have come to request a boon. I wish to be able to control my gift, and not be ruled by it. To choose when I transform, and remain in control when I do.” I bowed my head respectfully, unsure how one was supposed to go about asking a Daedric prince for something.

“Hmm, a simple request. I will grant you this boon, if you perform a task for my amusement.” Hircine said predictably.

“What is this task, my lord?”

“The Bloodmoon rises over Harcane Grove, and hunters prepare to hunt. First named, last tamed, the unicorn runs wild there. Join in the hunt, in your wolf form, and I will grant your boon here and now.” The statue’s eyes dimmed again, and all went quiet. I had my task.

“You have been greatly honoured, hunter.” The Khajiit approached, smiling warmly.

“So I have to hunt the last unicorn in Tamriel?” I asked, unsure about my feelings on this task.

“Did our lord say that? I heard him tell you to join the hunt, not which side to take. That is the hunter’s choice. This task is for you, and you alone. Your mate will remain here.” The Khajiit nodded towards Cirinwe, who looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased to be referred to as my ‘mate’.

“Good hunting.” Cirinwe approached, leaning down slightly to touch her forehead to mine. I knew that she would rather join me, but I was still wary of being in wolf form around her, even if Hircine said he'd help me immediately.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” I handed her my equipment and strode off into the darkness of the forest. Once I was a safe distance away, I opened my mind to the wolf spirit.

The transformation went smoothly, the wolf form appearing around me and merging with my body. I could immediately feel a difference, I was completely calm and in control. The forest was alive around me with sounds and smells in every direction. I could smell the group of hunters to the south, readying themselves to drive the unicorn to extinction, and set off quickly in that direction.

A red moon, the Bloodmoon, rose above me as I crept through the undergrowth around the hunter’s camp. There were about a dozen hunters, which I thought was a bit of overkill for a single unicorn. Half their number was already heading off, while the other half were still preparing – sharpening swords and axes, coating blades and arrows in poison.

As soon as the first group had left, I made my move. I dealt with the two sentries first, quickly and quietly dispatching them with my claws, and then emerged into the light of the campfire. I stood at least a foot taller than the tallest Nord, my white pelt gleaming in the firelight. The four hunters simply stared for a few moments, before they found their wits and their weapons. The first two died almost immediately, the largest of them tumbling onto the campfire and plunging the area into darkness. I dodged a clumsy axe swing and tore my claws through the chest of a burly Imperial, blocking his comrade’s sword stroke with my forearm before finishing them both with my teeth and claws.

It was over in a matter of seconds, and I felt a rush of adrenaline as I stood in the wreckage of their camp. I examined my forearm and was pleased to see that blocking a steel sword had no ill effects on my magical pelt – I wasn’t willing to test that hypothesis on silver weapons yet, but for now I was safe. The other hunters weren’t too far ahead, so I set off in pursuit.

I circled around them to remain downwind as they entered Harcane Grove. I could smell the unicorn, but nobody had seen it yet. What they had seen were the three minotaurs who seemed to be protecting the grove. I had no doubt that the minotaurs could hold their own even against six hunters, but I still wanted to help. Just before the two sides collided I let out a long, loud howl which pierced through the hunter’s raised voices and the thunder of hooves. The hunters paused their charge, fear flashing across their faces, but the minotaurs weren’t fazed and carried on their assault, crashing into the hunters with a roaring fury.

I burst out of the undergrowth and sprinted on all fours across the clearing. A Nord hunter wielding a crossbow spotted me and fired in panic, the bolt sailing harmlessly past my flank. I growled as I recognised the crossbow bolt, identical to the one I found in the bear. The hunter managed to reload quickly as I closed the gap, and I started moving in a zigzag pattern, weaving my way past his second bolt. He had no time for a third, as I knocked the crossbow from his grasp and sent him skidding across the ground. He swore and drew a wicked looking blade, rising to meet me, but one of the minotaurs put an end to that with a swing of its massive warhammer.

Another hunter lashed out at a minotaur, sword dripping with poison, but I managed to grab his arm before he could strike the blow. After disarming him I sank my jaws deep into his neck, killing him swiftly. I looked around for my next target, but the hunters had all been dispatched.

The three minotaurs stood proudly before me. Each carried an impossibly heavy looking hammer, and wore layered leather and iron armour, similar to arena gladiator gear, which looked as ancient as they did. Their brown pelts were flecked with grey, and each had a short beard that was braided and woven with trinkets. They saluted me in turn, and I bowed in response. As I watched them leave, a flicker of light caught my gaze. In the distance, on the far side of the clearing, stood the unicorn. It was slightly larger and more muscular than even the most well-bred warhorse, with a coat even whiter than mine, and on its head was the famous horn, shining in the moonlight. As fast as it appeared, it vanished again, back into the trees. I felt blessed to have seen it, and pleased to have helped.

“You’ve done well, hunter.” Hircine’s voice echoed through my head as a ghostly stag shimmered into existence before me. “You have pleased me, and shown honour in your hunt. Return to the shrine as you are now, and I will completely grant your boon.”

“Wait-” I made to object, but the stag had already gone. Even though I was in control, I still felt apprehensive about being near Cirinwe in this form. I suppose this is another part of the task.

I approached the shrine carefully, and could see Cirinwe pacing back and forth. It was the hunters who saw me first, though, and bowed respectfully as I entered the camp. I gestured with a paw that it wasn’t necessary, and they returned to the shrine as Cirinwe carefully approached.

“You’re…tall.” Cirinwe said, with a hint of nervousness to her voice. She was right though, in this form I was even taller than her.

“Hey Ciri. It’s fine, I’m in control.” I assured her.

She moved closer, looking a lot more relaxed, and raised a hand to my chest. She smiled as her fingers sank into my soft fur. “You know…this is going to be a nightmare to groom. You’ll have to learn to use a hairbrush.” We both laughed at that, and I felt all of my worries melting away.

“Hunter, you have proven yourself worthy. I grant you your boon.” Hircine’s voice interrupted us briefly, and I stepped away from Cirinwe as a swirl of magicka enveloped me. When it cleared, I was back in my Argonian form. I could still feel the wolf spirit, but it was calm and relaxed.

“That’s better.” I smiled.

Very different from the vanilla game, and from mine, but I'm glad you decided to spare the Unicorn, too.

But did you have to leave me with a mental picture of Ciri attacking him with a hairbrush, just as I'm working on Conina the Hairdresser for Skyrim?

“Did our lord say that? I heard him tell you to join the hunt, not which side to take. That is the hunter’s choice. This task is for you, and you alone. Your mate will remain here.” The Khajiit nodded towards Cirinwe, who looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased to be referred to as my ‘mate’.
- - This is brilliant! I never doubted that Haa-Rei would spare the unicorn! And an ‘awww’ moment with his ‘mate’ Ciri.

I also loved your treatment of the minotaurs as noble guardians and the mutual respect between them and the big white wolf.

During the fight, when Haa-ReiWolf noted how tall he was, I was really hoping he’d get to stand eye-to-eye with Ciri - and he got my wish!

Lovely treatment of this quest. Buffy never did nor would complete the Oblivion vanilla Hircine quest. She found the Skyrim vanilla Hircine quest right up her tree though.

ghastley - Cirinwe, fully armoured, charging into battle with a large, two-handed hairbrush. Yep, I definitely need to see that.

Acadian - Glad you liked it! I wonder how tall a Cirinwolf would be.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe arrived at Hircine's shrine, where our Argonian had to face a hunting trial. In werewolf form, he protected the noble unicorn and its minotaur guardians from a group of hunters, much to Hircine's approval. The Daedric Prince rewarded Haa-Rei with mastery over his lycanthropy.

Chapter 70



The next afternoon, after perhaps the most restful night’s sleep of my life, I crawled out of my bedroll and shuffled over to the fire. We’d made camp near the shore of Lake Rumare, and it was a particularly misty and chilly day.

Cirinwe was nowhere to be seen, so I helped myself to some dried bear meat and berries that were sitting by the fire, as well as some tea (of course). I’d been so exhausted after the shrine visit that I hadn’t summoned Eithne to keep an eye on the camp, though we were in quite a secluded location and would only be at risk from mudcrabs trying to steal our food.

After a little more lounging and eating, I decided to try and find Cirinwe. She was more than capable of looking after herself, but her absence was curious. Before leaving I made sure to summon Eithne, who somersault-bowed and made herself comfortable in the campfire.

I brought my bow along, just in case, but it would not be needed. I found Cirinwe in a small clearing to the south, practicing spells. A large boulder nearby was looking a little worse for wear, clearly used as a target for some ranged spells. Cirinwe paused when I entered the clearing, and quickly ushered me over to stand next to her.

“Stand here.” She moved me to a specific spot, deciding to forgo traditional greetings and get right to it.

“What are you doing?” I asked, puzzled, as the Altmer moved between several points in the clearing and cast some spells. After that, she returned to stand next to me and cast a longer spell.

With a final gesture, golden runes lit up on the floor at the previous spell locations, and a large bubble of light appeared around us. After a few moments it faded again, but I could still sense the magic.

“A shield spell, to protect the camp.” Cirinwe nodded in satisfaction, rightfully pleased with her work.

“Impressive.” I stepped out of the shield, back in, and back out again. I found a palm-sized pebble and tossed it towards Cirinwe, only for it to bounce harmlessly off the shield and land next to my feet. “Very impressive.”

“Thank you. It took me a few attempts to get the runes right. I had to borrow a book from you.” Cirinwe gestured to a tome lying on a nearby rock which I recognised as an encyclopaedia of runic inscriptions and incantations.

“Well I’m glad to hav-” I paused before I could finish, hearing something nearby.

“Trouble?” Cirinwe retrieved the tome and her sword, ready for action, but relaxed when I shook my head. Cirinwe quickly dispelled her shield bubble and we headed off.

The source of the sound was back at camp. Trivea had arrived, and was standing face to face with Eithne on the border of our camp.

“Eithne, please, you know me.” Trivea sighed, crossing her arms.

“Yes, but master Haa-Rei and mistress Cirinwe aren’t here right now, and I can’t let anyone in the camp.” Eithne puffed her chest out and copied Trivea’s crossed arms stance.

“We’re here now Eithne, thank you for keeping an eye on things.” The flame atronach nodded and floated back to the fire, happy to let me take over.

“Finally! Where have you two been? Canoodling in the forest?” Trivea, at my gestured invitation, took a seat by the fire. She was rather damp from the mist, and looked a little bedraggled.

“We weren’t ‘canoodling’. Besides, we’ve been wondering where you’d got to.” I set my bow down and took a seat a little further away, more content than the other two to remain slightly damp. We had indeed been waiting on Trivea, who’d originally supposed to join us at Hircine’s shrine.

“Ah, yes. Sorry about that, my dear. It would seem that there are some vampire hunters in the area, and I had to make sure they weren’t here for me.”

“That’s not good.” Even for a vampire as old as Trivea, hunters were still a threat. Even though they likely couldn’t kill her, they could reveal her nature to the authorities and she’d be forced to move elsewhere and go into hiding.

“Indeed. Unfortunately, though not here for me, it seems that they are heading towards Skingrad.”

“So we’re likely to bump into them at some point.”

“Correct again. I’m not sure exactly what they’re after in Skingrad, but it can’t be good. Anyway, enough about that dreary subject. How did you get on at the shrine?” I’d hardly call vampire hunters ‘dreary’, but it was obviously not one of her favourite subjects.

And so I told the story of the Unicorn hunt to Trivea, who listened intently and looked every bit the proud parent by the end of it.

“Aah, to think you were just a puppy when I found you in the Solstheim snow, and now you’re a fully-fledged werewolf pack leader.” The Dunmer made a show of wiping a tear from her eye. Even if she wouldn’t say it out loud or seriously, I could tell that she was pleased for me.

Cirinwe, Trivea, Eithne and I spent the rest of the day resting and relaxing. Trivea was most impressed by Cirinwe’s shield ritual, while I spent some time with Eithne to practice my own spellcasting abilities.

The next morning, still under heavy mist, we packed up camp and set off towards Skingrad.

Again, your timing is suspicious, as I'm just working on making Conina's hairbrush, comb, hand-mirror and scissors into weapons (as that's the only way to have them hand-held). They will all be one-handed, however. Please just envision Cirinwe running with scissors.

I liked that rune shield spell, a nice mix of things from several of the games. And Eithne's developing a bit of character as we get to know her.

Nice one!

A delightful episode simply packed full of fun stuff! You have really brought Eithne to light as a wonderfully warm (lol) friend just full of personality and appropriate quirks.

A brilliant idea by Cirinwe to invent a runic warding spell to protect their camp. Between that and Eithne, Scales and Scars should be able to canoodle sleep in peace at night.

Great to see Trivea again and I’d like to imagine the vampire hunters she mentioned were the very ones that Count Skingrad wants some help with in the game.

ghastley - Cirinwe is a good girl, and would never run with scissors! Perhaps dual wielding brushes would be more efficient than one large greatbrush.

Acadian - Now all we need is for Haa-Rei to invent a tea summoning spell (or a tea atronach) and we'll be all set!



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe took some time to relax and practice spellcraft while waiting for Trivea to meet them. When the vampiress finally arrived, the three set off for Skingrad...

Chapter 71



The trip to Skingrad was uneventful, but I was on edge almost the whole time. Signs of battle could be seen quite frequently, and twice we found piles of daedra in smouldering heaps by the roadside. Oblivion gates were popping up more frequently, and while there weren’t enough guards on the roads to close the gates, there were enough to put up a good fight.

Skingrad in particular would fare better than other towns – the guards were better equipped, better trained, and sat behind stronger walls. I briefly thought about how strong Kvatch would have been, but left that thought unfinished.

“I’ll have to leave you here.” Trivea said suddenly, nodding towards a group of people outside the town’s gates.

“Vampire hunters?” I asked, noting the group’s silver weapons and armour. They were well equipped to fight vampires, ghosts, and perhaps even werewolves.

“Looks like it. Meet me at this address.” After handing Cirinwe a piece of parchment, the vampiress stepped off the road and disappeared into the wilderness.

The hunters eyed us warily as we passed, but a bright smile from Cirinwe was enough to set them at ease and allow us to enter the town unquestioned. We had slightly more trouble finding Trivea’s address, as the winding streets of Skingrad lacked any proper signage. Eventually we arrived on the doorstep of a large manor, which had Trivea’s scent all over it, and knocked on the heavy door.

When the door opened, we were greeted by a heavy-set Nord woman, who ushered us inside and informed us that ‘Mistress Trivea’ was waiting upstairs.

“Welcome to my home.” Trivea greeted us on the second (of three) floor. Her travelling leathers had been swapped for an elegant deep purple dress, with fur trim and more jewellery than anyone had any business owning. Quite how she had managed to enter the town and get changed so quickly was beyond me, but she did like to be mysterious.

“Well it’s certainly different from the caves you usually inhabit.” I dared not touch anything in case I broke something expensive, but the large library certainly caught my attention.

“It’s a beautiful home.” Cirinwe said politely. Compared to the High Elven mansion she grew up in, an Imperial manor must be little better than a hovel. I think we were both just surprised to see Trivea living in such a place.

“Well thank you Cirinwe. Wine?” Our hostess led us over to a comfortable seating area and poured two goblets of wine, one for herself and one for Ciri. We’d only just sat down when the Nord woman reappeared with a tray of snacks and a pot of tea. “Thank you Eyja, that will be all for today.”

“Yes mistress.” The Nord curtseyed and made her way back down the stairs.

“Since when were you a noblewoman?” I asked over the rim of my tea cup.

“Oh it’s been years now. Quite a good place to hide from hunters, yes?”

“What are you going to do about them?” Cirinwe asked between sips of wine.

“For now? Nothing. I need to go and see the Count first.”

“The Count?”

“Count Skingrad and I are very old friends, and he will no doubt want this to be handled in a specific way. If you two are up for it, why not come along?”


Thus it was that Cirinwe and I found ourselves, at midnight, waiting in the castle for an audience with Count Skingrad. I didn’t ask why we had to wait so late, and I was starting to piece things together. When the Count arrived, his appearance didn’t surprise me.

Pale skin, thin features, and dark eyes with a hint of red to them. Count Skingrad was a vampire.

“Trivea, how good it is to see you. Your friends too.” The count bowed politely, though a glance he sent my way suggested that he was well aware of my lycanthropy, which was no surprise.

“You too, Janus. Now, what’s going on with those hunters?” Trivea got straight to the point, which the Count seemed to appreciate.

“A nest has sprung up in Bloodcrust Cavern. With all the daedra roaming the wilds I can’t risk sending any guards to clear the cave out.”

“I know the place. Leave it to me.” Trivea nodded firmly, and the conversation was concluded. The count returned to his chambers, followed closely by his Argonian steward.

“Well that was…brief.” Cirinwe sounded as confused as I felt.

“I thought a reunion of old friends would be a lot warmer.” I shrugged, though if Trivea and the Count had started laughing and hugging I would probably have been a lot more unnerved.

“Janus isn’t a people person. Besides, I know what we have to do now.”

“…which is?”

“It’s time to go hunting.” Trivea grinned.

That called for the "secret society handshake". Monty Python

I very much enjoy how wonderfully you are incorporating familiar Oblivion things into what is very much your own (and Haa-Rei’s) story. Everything new we learned about Trivea and Janus here seems perfectly fitting and you keep a deliciously appropriate air of mystery around the vampiress.

I look forward to the upcoming hunt – doubtless of vampires but I am equally curious to see if the vampire hunter mercenaries end up in Trivea’s sights. . . or she in theirs.

ghastley -

Acadian - Trivea is far too old experienced to let these hunters get the better of her.



Previously - Haa-Rei, Cirinwe, and Trivea arrived in Skingrad. There they learned that Trivea is actually part of the local nobility, and a close friend to the vampire Count Skingrad. The Count asked our trio to deal with some local vampires and the hunters that they have attracted to the city...

Chapter 72



“Here we are.” Trivea motioned to the cave in front of us. After returning home for a quick outfit change, the three of us had made our way straight to Bloodcrust Cavern.

The entrance to the vampire lair was hidden among a large patch of boulders, alarmingly close to Skingrad. Quite how the vampire hunters hadn’t found it yet was beyond me.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, surveying the area for any signs of recent activity(of which there was no sign).

“You and I shall carefully and thoroughly clear the cavern, while Cirinwe holds the entrance. We can’t let a single vampire escape.” Trivea tightened one of the straps on her cuirass and drew her wickedly sharp daggers.

Her plan was solid – Cirinwe’s presence in the cavern, as the only mortal and edible one amongst us, may well drive the vampires into a frenzy. Trivea and I, decidedly less appetising, would be able to move faster and quieter.

The actual entrance to the vampire lair was a simple wooden door, through which only one person could fit at a time. Cirinwe was the last through the entrance, and firmly shut the door behind us. Then, after placing a restoration rune of protection on the ground, nodded to us that she was ready.

“Good luck.” She smiled, her golden skin illuminated in restorative light. Trivea and I nodded and headed deeper into the cave.

We hadn’t gone far when we found our first vampires. I readied my bow and waited a few seconds before firing. As soon as one vampire fell with my arrow in its chest, the second was silenced by Trivea’s daggers. The undead bodies began turning to dust before they’d even hit the ground, allowing me to retrieve my arrow almost immediately.

I took a deep breath through my nose, inhaling the scents of the cavern. I could smell about a dozen vampires, though that scent was mixed with the dampness that one can expect in a cave like this. Trivea motioned for us to split up, as the cave ahead branched in two directions. I would head to the right, and Trivea to the left.

The rocky corridor ahead was almost perfectly straight, but caution bade me move slowly. My night vision had improved since my visit to Hircine’s shrine, though it was still not on the same level as a vampire. As I spotted another enemy ahead, I knew that I would have to act fast. Fortunately I had the advantage of range, and managed to bring the creature down quietly.

I emerged from the corridor into a slightly larger cavern. The smell indicated that there had been some sort of meat stored here at some point, but now I could only see vampires. The first fell without any fuss, but the others were standing fairly close to one another. I could probably have killed them both in quick succession, but I decided not to risk it and waited them out. Sure enough, after a few minutes, they moved apart. The one closest to me wandered over to the side of the cavern, and bent down to open a chest on the ground. The noise of the old chest being opened was good cover for my arrow, which struck the vampire in the neck. I then turned my attention to the second creature, who fell just as quietly. After retrieving a modest sum of gold from the chest, I continued through the cavern and into another corridor.

This corridor turned at a right angle, into a small chamber. The lone vampire in the chamber was busy preparing some sort of alchemical concoction, so I once again decided to be patient. If I shot him now he’d likely drop the vials he was working with, and make some noise in the process. My vigil ended prematurely, however, when the vampire suddenly lurched forward. Glass smashed, potions popped and fizzed, and several flammable ingredients began burning quite fiercely. I tutted loudly when Trivea arrived to retrieve her dagger from the wreckage.

“What happened to ‘quietly’?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You were taking ages, so I figured you were either finished with your vampires or you were dead. Either way, this was the last one.” Trivea grinned, tossing her knife into the air and deftly catching the tip of the blade between two slender fingers.

“Let’s get back to Ciri.” I shouldered my bow and together we returned to the entrance. We arrived to find Cirinwe right where we’d left her, cleaning vampire dust from her sword and depositing it in a large pouch.

“Ah, I thought I heard one slip past me,” Trivea shrugged, “good work.”

“Are you alright?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t even touch me. I trust you two had fun.” Cirinwe smiled, resting her sword on one shoulder.

“All clear. Time to find the hunters and give them the news.” Trivea lead the way out of the cavern and back to Skingrad, though she disappeared shortly before we arrived, leaving Cirinwe and I to find the hunters.

Even though it was only just dawn, we found the hunters outside the chapel of Julianos. From their equipment, I guessed that they were about to head out on a hunt. When Cirinwe approached and told them we’d cleared out the vampires, we were met with some rather sceptical looks.

“The two of you cleared out a nest all by yourselves?” The one who spoke was a Bosmer, presumably the leader of the group. He wore light armour, but carried a heavy-looking battle axe over his shoulder. Clearly he deemed weapons training more important than basic manners. For a brief moment I thought Cirinwe was going to punch the man square in the face, but instead she simply handed him the pouch of vampire dust that she’d collected.

“All by ourselves” Cirinwe smiled brightly. For my part I simply crossed my arms and remained silent.

“Well...maybe you're not lying after all. If they're gone, then there's no point in hanging around here.” The Bosmer motioned to his comrades, and they slowly began to leave. “Damned amateurs. You people should leave it to the professionals."

“Well if you see any professionals, please let us know.” Cirinwe retorted quick as a flash, causing the Bosmer to glare even more fiercely. The firm hand of a fellow hunter led him away, leaving Cirinwe and I alone in the square.

Once the hunters were out of earshot, I burst into a fit of laughter. Cirinwe did her best to remain stoic, but couldn’t help but join in. As the sun rose over Skingrad, the sounds of laughter echoed through the streets.

Since my characters never seem to like either side - the vampires or the hunters - I've always let them whittle each other numbers down before mopping up. It's good to see a different approach, especially when it works well.

Even if you hadn't told us the hunter was the Bosmer, I think we'd know him from the dialog alone.

What a delightful episode!

Henceforth, our statuesque Almer shall be known as ‘Cirinwe the Edible’.

An elegant dungeon crawl, resulting in significantly less vampires to pester Skingrad. I loved that you brought up how much easier it is to recover an arrow from a pile of ash than a bloody corpse.

A brilliant retort to the ‘professional’ vampire hunters from Ciri.

ghastley - Haa-Rei usually would go for that approach, but Cirinwe is very much in favour of NOT killing people if necessary. She's weird like that.

Acadian - Technically ALL elves are edible - just ask the Bosmer!



Previously- Haa-Rei, Cirinwe, and Trivea arrived at Bloodcrust Cavern and cleared it of vampires. Then they returned to Skingrad and informed the vampire hunters that they were no longer needed...

Chapter 73



With the vampires destroyed and the hunters seen off, Cirinwe and I returned to Trivea’s manor. Trivea’s maid informed us that her ladyship had gone to speak with the count, so Cirinwe and I were to make ourselves at home for the time being.

For all the manor was enormous, it actually only had three rooms. The main room housed a dining area, with a seating area and library on a balcony above. Downstairs from the dining room was a modest kitchen, which doubled up as the maid’s quarters. On the top floor of the house was an enormous bedroom, which looked as though it had never been used – it wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that Trivea slept in the basement.

Every inch of wall was decorated with rich tapestries, paintings, or display cases. The windows were all covered by thick curtains, and dozens of candles illuminated the whole house. It was the perfect place for a vampire to lay low.

I was just examining the library when Trivea returned, looking a little disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” Cirinwe asked, obviously picking up on the mood as well.

“The town guards lost an entire patrol to Daedra last night. 10 men.” Trivea flopped down into an armchair and motioned to the maid for some wine.

“Is there a gate nearby?” I asked.

“Not as far as I can tell, though as a conjurer you’d probably have sensed it already.” She was right, of course. The previous gates I’d encountered were like beacons of energy, and it would be difficult for me to miss one nearby.

“What can we do to help?” Cirinwe volunteered, though Trivea shook her head.

“Nothing, thank you. You two still need to head to Anvil, but I’ll remain here to keep an eye on things.”

“Any idea where the Daedra came from? Even without the dragonfires they shouldn’t be able to stray too far from a gate.” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Last seen headed west. I suggest the two of you head out as soon as you’re ready.”

Thanks to Cirinwe’s organisational skills, we were pretty much always ready to head out. After bidding farewell to Trivea, we set off towards Anvil. The idea that an Oblivion gate could have opened near the city was, unsurprisingly, weighing heavily on Cirinwe. I was also not too fond of the idea, especially after the daedra so soundly defeated a group of Skingrad’s finest. The Anvil guards were similarly well funded, though more used to breaking up brawls between sailors than fighting daedra or undead.

With Kvatch gone, the Gold Road would have significantly less guards patrolling and…well…guarding. Signs of Daedra were everywhere – deep gouges in the earth from Clannfears, the occasional scorched rock or tree courtesy of scamps. We didn’t see the daedra themselves though – whether or not that was a good thing…I’m not so sure.

The last time Cirinwe and I had been this way, the journey had taken considerably longer. She had been a robe-clad mage, unused to travelling or camping. Now she was wearing heavy armour, and moving almost as a quickly as I did. We were setting up camp in sheltered area just to the east of Kvatch.

The sun was still up, but with Daedra potentially roaming around I felt it safer to get everything set up now. While Cirinwe cast her warding spells around the camp, I set off to see about catching something to eat.

The plains around Kvatch were eerily quiet. The presence of daedra seemed to have frightened away any deer or birds. Fortunately there were still some rabbits to be found, two of which I dispatched quickly and tied to my belt. The only other animal I saw was the scarred and savaged body of a mountain lion, which appeared to have encountered some daedra. Two dead scamps lay broken nearby, and some tracks indicated that the remaining creatures had headed west. If there was an Oblivion gate over that way, I would close it.

I hastened back to camp and began preparing the rabbits. I added carrots, onions, and herbs, along with the meat, to a large pot of water. After 2 hours over the fire, it would be done. While we waited, Cirinwe and I would usually read or chat, but today my elven companion was deep in thought. Of course she was worried about her sister in Anvil, and I could hardly tell her not to worry about it with the ruins of Kvatch plainly visible against the setting sun. Instead I made a pot of tea, and silently handed a cup to Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei…if there’s a gate near Anvil…” Cirinwe began.

“Then we shall find it, and we shall close it.” I finished.

“Are you worried about Leyawiin?” She asked after a few minutes.

“I haven’t really thought about it. I suppose I am, a little.” As I lifted the lid off the cooking pot, the rich scent was picked up by the light evening breeze and wafted around the camp. Nearly ready.

“Don’t you want to go back?”

“Not really. If I was back there, waiting around for an Oblivion gate to pop up, I wouldn’t be much help to anyone. I prefer being out here.” I leaned back and looked up at the stars, only a few were visible at that moment, but they were beautiful.

Cirinwe shuffled over to sit beside me, leaning into my shoulder to follow my gaze upwards. A faint smile played across her lips for a moment, and she seemed to brighten up ever so slightly.

“Thank you.” She said, nudging me lightly with an armoured elbow. Quite what I was being thanked for, I wasn’t sure.

I returned the nudge with my own, slightly less metallic, elbow before finally serving dinner. Despite the daedra and whatever else that may threaten our homes, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

What can I say but

In so many ways the relationship between Haa-Rei and Cirinwe remind me of the relationship between my Julian and her Captain Steffan.

These say a lot about Haa-Rei - how he reasons, how he observes. Almost as much as how he interacts with Cirinwe.

Another delightful episode. Haa-Rei’s storytelling continues to be a joy to read. The way you paint his interactions and observations is just so. . . comfortable. Yes, that is what makes it so nice to curl up with this story.

I continue to enjoy the delicately beautiful relationship between Scars and Scales, of course.

Catching up with Haa-Rei and Cirinwe has been an absolute delight. Their gently blooming relationship warms the heart. I always read with a fresh cup of tea in hand now, because I know that within a few paragraphs I will want one!

I love the way you weave Cirinwe’s magic seamlessly into Oblivion’s world. Her handling of the vampire hunters made me grin.

haute - Aww thanks! High praise indeed!

ghastley - He wasn't made a Blade for nothing! Now if only he could remember to actually do some work for them...

Acadian - Thank you! Comfortable is what we're aiming for.

Grits - Maybe we should get an advertisement deal going with the East Empire company - we could sell tons of tea!



Previously - with news of daedric attacks becoming more common, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe began their journey to Anvil. The two set up camp near Kvatch, signs of daedra all around...

Chapter 74



I squinted my eyes against the first rays of morning light. Dawn had passed some time ago, but our camp was quite sheltered and had lingered in shadow for a while longer. The Gold Coast stretched out before me, calm and quiet.

Cirinwe’s arms appeared around my waist, and I felt her chin rest on the top of my head.

“You didn’t come to bed last night. Trouble?” she asked, burying her face in my feathery head spines.

“I could hear daedra, though I haven’t seen any. We can head out whenever you’re ready.” I knew that Cirinwe would be eager to get to Anvil, and I was eager to find out where these mystery Daedra were coming from.

Cirinwe prepared herself a light breakfast while I woke up the fire and warmed myself up. A thin film of dew had settled on me while I’d been standing around, and my body was stiff from the chill. Though I’d seen no Daedra, I had found a bergamot plant near camp – the leaves of which make a delicious tea. Between that and the fire, I was soon warmed up and ready to go.

After Cirinwe’s breakfast, we packed up camp and continued on the road to Anvil, and I was surprised to find that it wasn’t completely abandoned. We passed two inns on the road which had guardsmen and mages stationed outside, and when Anvil came into view some hours later I could see more soldiers atop the walls. If the daedra attacked, Anvil would be ready. Whether or not that would make a difference…

Other than the soldiers, Anvil was the same as in my previous visit. People seemed to be going about their business as usual, though there was an understandable note of tension in the air.

“So Trivea’s friend…” Cirinwe began.

“Can wait until you’ve visited your sister.” I interrupted. “I’ll have a wander around and meet you outside the mages guild hall in a few hours.”

Cirinwe smiled and bent down to kiss me on the snout before heading off to her sister’s house. I turned in the opposite direction and headed for a set of stairs which led up to the walls. A local guardsman moved to block my path, but allowed me to pass after I showed him my identification – being a legate sometimes has its uses.

From the high walls I had a good view of the surrounding area, and also stood within earshot of several conversations between nearby soldiers. I learned that the countess of Anvil had hired the Fighters Guild to bolster her forces (because of course the guild still needed to be paid to protect the world from daedra) and the Mages Guild had freely offered healers and battlemages as support.

Regular patrols of the region and guard outposts along the borders meant that any daedric incursions were swiftly dealt with, and morale was high. There had still been no sighting of a gate, however, so quite where the daedra were coming from was still a mystery. The last sighting of daedra was at a ruin called Crowhaven, just to the northwest of town. A good place to start.

I made good time moving alone, and soon reached the ruin. The bodies of several scamps and clannfear had been piled and burned in an open area near the ruins. Broken arrow heads, areas of scorched ground, and other signs of battle were all around. It took a couple of minutes to find some clear tracks, which suggested that the daedra came from the north.

Unsurprisingly, daedra are easy to track, even had the scamps not left a trail of scorched earth for me to follow. The tracks eventually took me to an Ayleid ruin. The ruins consisted of a broken arch over what may have once been a bridge. The entrance was a small door, with a statue above the door holding a broken sword aloft. Two scamps stood on the broken bridge, chattering and growling to each other. They went down with an arrow each.

Once inside, I was met with the familiar dusty smell that seems to linger in all Ayleid ruins. This was mixed with a slightly sulphurous hint, which suggested some form of summoning ritual had occurred here. The entry corridor soon turned and led to a large room that was empty but for a single central dais upon which a welkynd stone glowed softly. A figure stood nearby, clad in robes and reading from a large book.

The mysterious figure smelled strongly of sulphur, and daedric markings glowed softly on the cover of the book. The figure grunted when my arrow struck their back, but made no other sound as they crumpled to the floor.

On closer inspection, the book was a detailed guide to summoning daedra. Ordinarily the rituals would allow a mage to summon a weak daedra for a few minutes, but without the dragonfires to disrupt the magic these conjurers could summon and permanently bind as many daedra as they pleased.

I slid the book into my pack and proceeded through the ruin. As well as daedra, the conjurers had also managed to summon some skeletons – one of which I encountered in a small chamber which also housed a varla stone. The skeleton was dealt with easily, but it took me longer than I’d have liked to find the switch to open the varla cage. The stone was beautiful – pure white like a fragment of a star, and glowing softly in the gloom. I slipped it into my pack before moving on.

The ruin was quite easy to navigate, with large rooms being joined by rather straightforward passages. Two more conjurers and a scamp were easily dealt with and before long I reached the door leading to the next level.

This level was different from the first in that it lacked much of the smaller passages. Large rooms were connected almost immediately to each other, which allowed me to slink around in the shadows while I hunted my prey. Two more conjurers and Two more daedra fell to my arrows, though the second clannfear technically died after activating a particularly nasty spike trap. The only difficulty I had was in the last room, with a conjurer I took to be the leader of this group.

His robes had at one point been the blue robes of a Mages Guild conjurer, but they were now tattered and soiled. He was reading from a book similar to the first conjurer, but his spell was much further along – before him stood a hulking daedroth, bound by magical chains. I could feel the daedroth’s rage, it was angry at the conjurer for trying to bind it, as anyone would be in such a situation.

The head of a daedroth looks similar to that of a crocodile, though many (such as this one) have sharp, black horns sweeping up from their brow. The rest of the creature’s body was decidedly unlike anything else in the world – it stood upright on two sturdy legs, with a powerful tail for balance. Its long arms were thick with muscle, and massive hands ended in wicked looking claws. The creature’s grey, scaly hide was thick and dotted with larger black scales which glistened in the Ayleid light.

There was no way to avoid a fight here, so I loosed an arrow. The conjurer gasped when my arrow pierced the back of his neck, and as soon as he hit the floor the magical chains around the daedroth shattered. The creature leaped at the conjurer’s body, tearing it to pieces with otherworldly fury.

Then, it turned towards me.

’Cirinwe’s arms appeared around my waist, and I felt her chin rest on the top of my head.’
- - A wonderful picture of the natural and warm relationship between Scars and Scales.

Haa-Rei was kind to ensure Cirinwe got the opportunity to visit with her sister first off, while he went daedra hunting. That said, I’m not so sure such an expedition without his high elven mage along is a great idea. . . .

Eeep! Conjurors run amok with the Dragonfire out. Very neat idea that no Dragonfire makes it easier to summon multiple daedra. I should still think that binding them would be limited to some extent by the mage’s ability to exert their will.

Uh oh. A daedroth’s undivided attention is not a good thing to have.

Acadian - Depends how fond of Daedroths you are, I suppose.



Previously - Our two adventurers arrived in Anvil, and while Cirinwe visited her sister, Haa-Rei set out to track down some daedra. The trail led to a ruin full of conjurers, and after clearing it out Haa-Rei discovered their final ritual - the summoning of a powerful daedroth.

Chapter 75



The daedroth took one, lumbering step towards me, pausing to activate its shield spell with a heavy shrug. I wasted no time in summoning Thiazzi, the storm atronach rumbling into existence and immediately engaging the daedroth.

Lightning crackled around the room as Thiazzi unleashed a torrent of magic, but the daedroth’s advance was barely slowed. The creature made an odd gurgling sound before spitting a great gout of liquid flame which stuck to Thiazzi like oil. With this initial salvo out of the way, the two behemoths clashed in melee combat – Thiazzi’s stone limbs crashing against the daedroth’s hide while the creature replied with tooth and claw.

While they were distracted I crept around the edge of the room, giving myself a better vantage point from which to shoot. Between shielding magic and a thick, scaly hide most of my arrows glanced off the daedroth’s back and skittered harmlessly onto the stone floor. One shot managed to distract the creature long enough for Thiazzi to strike a powerful blow, breaking through the shield spell with a sound like shattering glass.

Thiazzi himself was almost finished though, with great chunks of rock being torn away by the daedroth’s impossibly powerful jaws. Eventually, with a final strike, Thiazzi crumbled and vanished back to Oblivion.

The daedroth turned, gurgling again before spitting a stream of fire in my direction. I managed to skip to one side, fire an arrow, and keep moving around the room. This continued for a while, with more and more of my arrows lodging themselves into the daedroth’s massive chest. Eventually the creature tired of this and struck me with a powerful swipe, sending me sailing through the air to land heavily in one corner. I was exhausted, bleeding, and out of arrows. I braced myself for another attack, but it never came.

Instead, the creature slowly and deliberately bowed its head. One massive hand brushed all of my arrows out of its hide, and I realized just how ineffective my attacks had been. That’s not to say I hadn’t wounded the beast, but it certainly wasn’t a close fight. I staggered to my feet, bemused.

The daedroth looked deliberately at the conjurer’s tome that had been dropped on the floor, and I carefully moved over to pick it up. The text was written mostly in plain Cyrodiilic, with the occasional daedric symbol mixed in to throw off would-be readers. The conjurer had scribbled notes and attempted translations in every available space, but hadn’t managed to get very far. The spell itself seemed quite simple, all but for a key ingredient.

If I guessed correctly, the conjurer had used an unbound summon spell to bring through an especially powerful creature, namely the daedroth, and planned to bind it for his own summoning purposes. In order to bind it, however, he needed one thing: the creature’s agreement. A daedra such as this would never agree to serve a mortal, unless that mortal could prove themselves strong enough. I wasn’t sure if I was quite that strong, what with almost dying back there, but…

“Wait…you want me to…bind you?” I asked. The daedroth nodded slowly.

I consulted the tome again. The binding spell seemed quite simple – it essentially works the same as a soul trap in that you connect the soul of another creature to yourself, but this spell is two-way and thus connects a creature to a summoner. I had just enough magicka to pull it off.

“Alright. Here we go.”

I cast the spell, reaching out towards the daedroth’s soul, and could sense it doing the same to me. I saw flashes of its memories – ancient battles, distant realms, bizarre creatures, former masters. This daedroth was very old, and I felt honoured to have it bound to me. The spell faded, and I knew immediately that it had worked – I could sense the daedroth’s feelings. It had been angry at the conjurer, but then quite happy when fighting Thiazzi. It loved to fight, and explore, and hoped that I would lead it on some interesting adventures.

“My name is Haa-Rei. What’s yours?” I asked. I was a little dizzy from fatigue, but still managed to bow in greeting.

“Xuu Gar.” The words formed in my mind, almost as if I’d had a thought. It was an odd sensation.

The binding spell had been quite draining for the both of us, so I dismissed Xuu Gar for now. I could think of many situations in which a daedroth would be handy. At that moment, however, the only situation I wanted to be in involved a bath and a bed.

I was almost out of the ruins when I heard the sound of combat outside. I was half dead and out of arrows, but I nevertheless hurried outside to see what was going on.

It seemed some daedra had been returning to the ruins, and would have caught me by surprise had they not been intercepted. The bodies of half a dozen scamps and clannfear lay scattered around the ruins, and all that remained was a heavily armoured dremora. It wielded an axe that looked almost too large to lift, and was clad in the usual spiked armour that was uncomfortable to even look at. This did little good, however, as it wasn’t wearing a helmet when the greatsword arched through the air, sending its head rolling over the pale Ayleid stones to land by my feet. The dremora’s twitching corpse collapsed to the ground, revealing Cirinwe as my saviour. Of course she followed me.

“Fancy meeting you here.” I smiled, limping over to greet her.

“What on Nirn has happened to you?” Cirinwe dropped her sword and rushed over, a healing spell already blossoming in her hand.

“Just bumped into some conjurers, had a little chat about safe summoning practices.” Her healing magic worked quickly, though I still had to lean on her to avoid collapsing. I winced at the prickling sensation of my flesh and scales knitting back together.

After a bit more healing magic the worried look on Cirinwe’s face faded into a smile.

“Well that should do it for now. Let’s get back to Anvil before you pass out though, ok?” My saviour retrieved her sword and offered her arm for me to lean on as we walked back to town.

“I thought I was supposed to be the dashing and heroic adventurer.” I grumbled jokingly.

“Don’t worry love, I’m sure there’ll be plenty more chances for heroics in the future.”

“Just as long as - wait. Hear that?” I stopped and cocked my head to one side, straining to hear. A familiar sound.

“I don’t…wait, it sounds like…” Cirinwe’s face went pale as we both recognised the sound.

“An Oblivion Gate.”

And now, of course, I'm thinking about what you'd do with a daedroth in your bath or bed.

It had better be a huge bath or bed!

I love how you introduced us to Haa-Rei’s new summon! Just some wonderfully creative world building for Haa-Rei there. For a light archer to be able to call up a daedroth pal will be handy indeed!

I see that Ciri shared my concern about Haa-Rei dungeon diving solo and it is good she came after him. Quite a dramatic entrance and rescue on her part.

Uh, oh. Another Gate.