14 Last Seed, 4E202 - Sanguine's island

Lena was on her way from Bruma to the Imperial City, but she was in no rush. The fight between Hannibal Traven and Mannimarco at the Echo Cave left her with many questions about the nature of mortality, and she felt uneasy about that. They were liches, and yet they were alive... like vampires... like herself, when she relapsed. But what about when her vampirism was in remission? Dylan considered her mortal, but was she, really? And what did it mean exactly - to be mortal? Considering that otherwise immortal vampires could still be extinguished to never rise again, where did it leave her?

She knew someone who could answer these questions - Molag Bal, since both vampirism and "living" lichdom were his creations. But Lena didn't want to talk to Molag Bal, she didn't trust him to be truthful - all he wanted was to convert her into a pure-blood vampire. The only Prince she really trusted was... Sanguine.

"Whom are we fighting today?" - Dessos answered Lena's summon. "I don't see any threats" - he looked at her quizzically.

"No, no fighting just now" - Lena smiled at him. "I need to talk to Sanguine, and he said I should ask you to pass him a message. Would you please? I'm on my way to the Imperial City and then Cheydinhal."

"I'll tell him" - smiled Dessos. "Is it urgent? He's busy as usual" - he grinned.

"Not urgent" - Lena grinned back. "Tell him to sober up first a bit - I need his advice. And... company" - she blushed.

"Oh he'd like that" - Dessos nodded. "He'll be in touch. Literally."

Sanguine was perhaps the only Daedric Prince who could appear in Mundus in person without being summoned - his "inconsequential" intentions earned him disdain from the Aedra who did not bother to ban him from Mundus as securely as they banned the other Princes. Mundus did not require protection from debauchery, it seemed. And so, when Lena stopped at the Roxey Inn, she found a dremora drinking inside.


"You called?" - he grinned at her.

"Sanguine!" - she flew into his embrace. "Thank you for coming."

"You look worried. What is it?" Sanguine wasn't drunk.

"I... have questions" - Lena looked at him feeling uneasy. "Questions that Molag Bal knows the answers to, but I don't want to talk to him. I was hoping you might know some of the answers also."

"I see" - Sanguine nodded. "I can guess what it is about. We'll need privacy for that - you better come with me." And without releasing his embrace, he opened a portal and whisked Lena into it.

...

Sanguine really had lovely islands. The sun was about to rise over the water when they arrived. A bird of paradise was fluttering before their faces.

"Oh this is beautiful" - Lena sighed.


"Would you like to see thee cave?" - asked Sanguine. "You adventurers like that sort of thing."

The cave had heaps of gold, gems, jewellery, weapons and armour, mostly female, Lena noticed. Some of it was laid out on top of sarcophagi. There were several old graves in front of the entrance.

"Old friends" - Sanguine smiled at Lena's question. "Some did not want to return to Mundus. There is always a place on one of the islands though. You can take anything you like - they won't mind."

But Lena didn't want to take anything. She found an ornate coffin on the upper level with a set of Black Hand robes inside. She laid her silver dagger on top.

Back outside they found themselves on a clearing with a campfire burning in the middle and pelts and cushions strewn around it. A low table was laden with food and wine. The air was filled with faint aromas of wild flowers, berries and mushrooms, birds were chirping in the canopy, the waves gently splashing against the shore... It was hard to imagine a more relaxing atmosphere.

"Come, tell me all about it" - Sanguine got comfortable by the fire, gesturing Lena to do the same.


"It's about immortality..." - Lena started, looking into the flames. "As gifted by Molag Bal."

"Vampirism and living liches" - Sanguine nodded.

"Yes. Vampirism in particular" - Lena looked at him uneasily. "I am pregnant."

"Ah!" - Sanguine's expression cleared. "And you are worried about the fate of your child."

"I... Yes, I suppose this is it" - Lena suddenly realised the real reason for all these questions. "Molag Bal told me that if I let him turn me into a pure-blood, my child would be a pure-blood too - but of course I have no intention of doing that. He didn't say however what happens if I refuse."

"Then you remain an ex-vampire, of course" - Sanguine raised an eyebrow. "With your Recessive Vampirism."

"And my child?"

"That depends." Sanguine tried to remember something. "But mostly the child should be unaffected."

"Mostly?" - that made Lena worry. "Mostly" wasn't good enough.

"I don't know exactly" - Sanguine admitted. "I don't think anyone does - not even Molag Bal himself. Common Vampirism is a disease, he didn't actually create it - he created the pure-bloods, and they spread it further. It changed, it evolved. It diverged into many strains, as you know. It became unpredictable."

"What about pure-blood vampires - are they truly immortal?" - Lena thought that perhaps that was the distinction. "Do they rise again after they're slain?"

"Yes, they do" - Sanguine nodded. "Pure-bloods never really die. But pure-bloods lose all their humanity too."

"Humanity is such a volatile concept... I know a few daedra who have more humanity than some of the mortals..." - Lena mused.

"No need to get so philosophical about it" - Sanguine smiled. "You know what I mean - and indeed, humanity is neither guaranteed nor reserved for mortals. Or we would not be sitting here, talking about it."

Lena nodded, turning her attention to the table with food and drink. She picked up some grapes.

"All right" - she held a bunch of grapes in her hand, looking resolved. "Let's see what we've got." She plucked at the grapes. "I have Recessive Vampirism which is a disease, not a daedric gift." She put the grape down with determination and plucked another one. "When it relapses, it makes my eyes go red and makes me hungry for blood, but still it doesn't give me real immortality." Grape down, pluck another. "And if I catch Porphyric Hemophilia again and let it bloom, I'll turn into a regular vampire who is immortal..." She hovered her hand, lifting her eyes to Sanguine. "Do I stop ageing while I'm a vampire?"

"You do" - Sanguine confirmed. Lena put the grape down, plucking the next one.

"So presumably then I also stop ageing for the time when my Recessive Vampirism relapses" - grape down, she figured it was certain enough. She plucked another. "And... umm... where am I going with this?"

"That's the most important question of all, isn't it?" - Sanguine fixed her with his gaze. "Does any of it matter?"

Lena looked into his eyes and saw her answer - no, it didn't matter. Not to Sanguine, anyway. "Not to a lot of people" - Lena thought of Hauk, Lucien, Dylan, Ocheeva, Kud-Ei and so many others. Perhaps she should stop worrying.

"If your child turns out to have vampirism, you will treat it as any other disease - you will have blood in your cupboard as well as wine, that's all. Most people won't ever need to know. You'll manage. And most likely it won't even happen." Sanguine smiled as Lena's expression cleared and she started eating the grapes that she had laid out previously. "Don't let the spectre of what might happen poison you here and now."

With the mood lightened, they realised it must be time for breakfast and turned to the food and wine before them.

"Whose child is it?" - asked Sanguine watching Lena eat for two.

"Umm..." - she went red. "Either Hauk's or Lucien's." She swallowed.

"No need to feel embarrassed, not with me anyway" - Sanguine laughed. "It happens. Better two than none at all."

"It could be yours, as well" - Lena stopped eating with this striking realisation. "I don't know when it happened, exactly."

Sanguine looked up. "Well, it would be a first then" - he shook his head. "Unlikely."

"What - you have no children? With your... lifestyle?"

"Daedra don't have children all that easily, you know" - Sanguine smiled. "We aren't supposed to have children at all."

"No, yet some have - including Molag Bal!" - Lena protested. "And you are a Prince."

"And what does that mean?" - Sanguine frowned. "I am a dremora, we don't procreate. Molag Bal is not a dremora" - he said with such a finality as if it closed the matter.

"Well... I suppose we'll find out some time next Spring" - Lena smiled at him. "If the baby has horns, we'll know whom to blame."

This remark, combined with the effects of the wine, led to much hilarity and speculations on other possible causes of horns in a newborn, such as goats, minotaur or other dremora, all of which Lena vehemently denied.

"Oh, there's something else - I almost forgot!" - she got up rather unsteadily and walked over to her pack, producing the extra large black soul gem she retrieved from Hannibal Traven previously. "This needs hiding."

"What is it?" - Sanguine held out his hand. "Looks like one of Azura's botched experiments."

"It's a soul gem - large enough to capture a living lich. Mannimarco had it - to capture Traven's soul. Or visa versa" - answered Lena, her speech slurred.

"Ah!" - Sanguine nodded, turning it over in his hand. The wine didn't have as much of an effect on him as it did on Lena. "Like I said - Azura's job. She created quite a few of these things before the Star. Why do you want to hide it?"

"So that Mannimarco and Traven wouldn't get their hands on it when they eventually rise again" - Lena tried to explain, although it didn't make sense to her any longer.

"And if they do - why would that be a bad thing?" - it seemed it made no sense to Sanguine either.

"Because then one of them would permane-ne-ntly kill the other" - Lena was having difficulty with long words. "To make himself stronger, and they are strong enough already as it is."

"You know that makes no sense, right?" - Sanguine laughed. "Besides, you're drunk. But if you insist..." - he tossed the gem over his shoulder and they heard a splash as it fell into the sea. "There. Hidden. But don't ask me later which island it was - I won't remember! I've got thousands of them, and they change all the time!"

And with business now finally out of the way, they proceeded with their feast on never ending food and wine set out on the self-replenishing low table by the fire.



-------------------

This island Sanguine calls Strotti's Everrest Island. Don't believe him that he can't remember which is which.

15-18 Last Seed, 4E202 - Mages Guild - The Old Crow Inn - Corthio

"He was what?" - Raminus Polus looked at Lena in disgust and disbelief when she told him that Hannibal Traven turned out to be a living lich. "I knew that Mannimarco was a lich of some sort, and in cohorts with Molag Bal, but Arch Mage Traven... Although it does make sense and explains a lot... especially since he changed his mind about Necromancy... yeah..." - Raminus shook his head and sighed. "Still, he did what he thought was best" - he smiled at Lena. "He wasn't evil."

"Oh no, he sought to protect us" - Lena agreed. "It's just... it would have been better to step lightly."

"And Caranya..." - Raminus looked surprised again. "Appeared just as the Arch Mage was slain, you say? And attacked Mannimarco?"

"That she did - she must have been watching" - Lena nodded. "I wonder if she would have done the same if the duel had gone the other way. Perhaps she thought the best way to restore peace was to kill both of them."

"She might have done, you know" - Raminus agreed. "Was she wearing the Necromancer's Amulet? She took it, after all."

"No, she wasn't wearing it" - Lena was trying to remember the details. "I think she simply wanted to keep it away from either of them."

"Quite possible. What is she going to do now?"

"She didn't say. I wouldn't be surprised if she returned here to talk to you."

"Oh, she'd be welcome to" - Raminus beamed. "Tell her, if you ever see her, please. The Council is all but destroyed, and we need to re-establish it, and I doubt many of the Wizards knew about Arch Mage's lichdom... I still call him Arch Mage... but of course we haven't got one now" - he shook his head. "But that's why we need the Council back, then we can elect a new Arch Mage, with all that we know now. And we'll need to decide what we are going to do about Necromancy."

"Necromancy as well as the other schools that Hannibal Traven had cut" - Lena reminded him. "Such as Conjuration, Illusion and Mysticism."

"Mysticism?" - Raminus raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't know?" - it was Lena's turn to be surprised. "Detect Life, Soul Trap and Spell Absorption all come from Necromancy or are linked to it, and are therefore banned, and with Levitation and Teleportation already banned previously, they are hardly left with anything."

"True" - Raminus nodded. "I haven't thought of that. I did know about the bans, of course, just never stopped to think what was actually left..." - he sighed. "I'll write to all the Wizards in the Guild and invite them here so we could elect a new Council and a new Arch Mage." He paused, looking at Lena. "You are not a Wizard - yet. But you must be, with all that you've done and with all that you know. Please, accept this promotion."

"I..." - Lena hesitated. "Raminus, I couldn't. Thank you - but no. I feel that my previous promotions were undeserved - I am not as powerful a mage as these titles might suggest. Warlock is more than enough as it is."

"I can't say I'm not disappointed, but I see where you are coming from" - Raminus nodded. "And of course this keeps you out of Mages Guild politics" - he winked. "Well, have it your way, Warlock."

Lena thanked him again and left - she wanted to look into the matter of the Old Crow Inn since she was in the vicinity and on her own, and it seemed to be a job for an assassin.


"So, he is dead, and his lover too!" - Ladonna at the Old Crow Inn was extatic. "And I see you've got his journal and his bow as proof!" Lena thought that although Ladonna had not asked for anything in particular as proof, it was still best to bring something along. "Here is some coin for your efforts - I trust this is the correct fee?" - Ladonna raised her eyes at Lena handing over a hefty purse. "I should have performed the Sacrament, I know, and I was going to, but then I saw you come in, and, well... I was right, wasn't I? You are a professional." She looked pleased with herself.

"It's fine, but next time please go through the official channels" - Lena smiled at her. "Saves me the paperwork" - she winked.

"Oh I understand - so tedious!" - Ladonna looked sympathetic. "Here is a key to the cellar - it is quite cozy in there, please make yourself at home. For the paperwork" - she smiled.

Lena smiled at her, took the key and went to look at the cellar. It was getting quite late and she could use a meal and good rest.

The cellar was indeed quite comfortable, with much better furnishings than elsewhere in the inn, and certainly with a much better bed than the ones that Ladonna was renting out.

The lower level of the cellar was a bit odd though - someone had been breaking through walls and digging tunnels into nowhere... Oh wait - one tunnel ended in a door! Locked, and even Nocturnal's skeleton key could not unlock it. "Damn it" - thought Lena, deciding to leave further investigation for tomorrow.


She went back upstairs and got into that very comfortable bed, looking for something to read... "Oh - what's this?" - the book on the bedside table turned out to be a journal. "Yes, this explains the digging and the furniture. And may be there's a clue about the key..." - thought Lena deciphering elaborate handwriting. But it was already past midnight, and her eyelids would not stay up, certainly not after all the food and the mead she consumed just before... This was definitely a matter for tomorrow.


Ladonna told Lena that the man who rented the cellar previously - Corthio - had a shop in the Imperial City, and Lena decided to stop by.

It was a small shop set into the back wall, and the door was locked, with grass and mushrooms growing on the doorstep. "It doesn't look to have seen much use, at least not recently" - Lena thought with a sinking feeling. This wasn't a good sign. She unlocked the door with a spell and entered.

The house was very dimly lit - someone had put out the lights. The downstairs was set up as a shop with many rare and valuable items on display, but a layer of dust was covering it all. "Not good" - Lena thought again.

The basement didn't have anything special, so Lena went upstairs. And there... yes, you could say she found who she was looking for - Corthio, or rather his rotting corpse. He'd been dead for some time.


"Well, he and you have a lot in common" - a stranger entered the room. "Neither of you respect locks."

"Is that why you killed him?" - Lena turned to the stranger, recognising him as the man she met at the Old Crow Inn.

"Yes, he wanted the artefact from the tomb that is below the Old Crow Inn, and we cannot allow that. People must respect locks" - he lectured Lena.

"What are you - the City Watch?" - she snapped at him. "Or are you hoping to kill me too?"

"Oh, that will depend entirely on you" - he smiled pleasantly. "Leave the tomb alone, and you'll live. But know that we are watching your every move."

And with that he turned around and left.

"Well, I doubt very much that you're watching my every move" - thought Lena. "You are wasting away drinking in the inn day and night, watching the tomb entrance in the basement. If you ask me, you'd be better off blocking it and removing the key. Speaking of which..."

She looked around Corthio's room and eventually found it. She did not want the artefact from the tomb, but she did not need people watching "her every move", and she was undecided what to do. Leaving the key in late Corthio's house wasn't doing anyone any favours though. "I should discuss it with Hauk" - she thought, on her way to his house. She had a lot to tell him - about the events in the Echo Cave, living liches, and now also this strange Order of Guardians. But perhaps what she really needed to take her mind off things was a good old adventure.

Post 44: the Battlemage NPC charges right into an Ayleid trap! OH yeah, that happens sometimes. I like the explanation too, that Battlemages basically don't know how to tackle territories like this with discretion. They are used to rushing into battle and blowing stuff apart, usually with some success.

I like how she can explain how stuff was 200 years ago. Gosh, wouldn't that be cool to have in our times...

She warns Garrus at the end. Garrus seems okay with Lena though.

I looked in the CS, and if that battlemage somehow survives the trap, he gets a scripted death... Talking about evil.


Well, Garrus is in Cheydinhal and the Count likes him - he made him Captain of the Guard. Garrus isn't just your average Captain though...

19 Last Seed, 4E202 - Dinner in Cheydinhal

"Good to see you around town" - Garrus was saying to Lucien at dinner. "Don't think people don't know who you are."

"I suppose I should have expected it, after all this time" - Lucien nodded. "And with most people have been here as long as I have."

When Lena and Hauk returned to Cheydinhal from the Imperial City earlier that day, they ran into Garrus making rounds in the streets, looking even more bored than usual. Lena immediately asked him to come to the Wolf Sanctuary for dinner, then picked up Lucien from the Sanctuary downstairs, and now the four of them were enjoying the roast kindly supplied by the cook of the Newlands Lodge.

"And those of us who are not blessed with your longevity still mostly know what's going on" - Garrus grinned. "And look - nobody is blowing your cover. This is Cheydinhal, Lucien."

Indeed, when Rayenna tried to fish for information here, she only got what was commonly known already. This was in everyone's interests - the Dark Brotherhood being one of several covert organisations in Cheydinhal. Everyone knew who everyone was, but what happened in Cheydinhal, stayed in Cheydinhal, or something like that.

"What does the Count think of it?" - asked Lucien. "Me walking around town, that is."

"He's glad, if anything" - Garrus smiled. "Makes it less likely for Morag Tong to show up."

They chuckled, and focussed on eating for a while.

"You look like you could use a holiday" - Lena turned to Garrus. "You looked particularly bored when we ran into you in the street."

"Does it show that much?" - Garrus grimaced. "It's been quiet - not even a drunken brawl to break up, and anyhow this isn't my job any more, my second handles that sort of matters. I suppose I did get bored. Why, do you have an adventure in mind?" - he looked at Lena with hope in his eyes.

"Hauk and I were going North and possibly into Skyrim for a while" - Lena replied, watching Garrus' face light up with excitement. "It could be two or three weeks. Want to come?"

"I'm sure I could persuade the Count that our Northern border needs a survey" - Garrus beamed. "I'll be ready by lunchtime."

"Bring a good blade - I hear they have problems with werewolves" - Hauk said matter-of-factly. "Silver or daedric."

"Or one of Rohssan's" - Lucien looked at Lena. "Like Hauk's - carbon steel with an ebony core and silver coating. Ask Borba."

The conversation turned to weapons, everyone at the table preferring blades. Lena was showing off her new throwing knives, but Hauk commented that they were not handy for someone wearing heavy armour - anything above iron reduced dexterity.

"That's the price you pay for having a full suit rather than just a breastplate like what you wear" - he said referring to Lena's iron armour. "While with a full cuirass on you can still shoot from a bow, although only just, you can forget about throwing knives - you won't even hit an ogre with it" - was his verdict. "Trust me, I tried. What you need instead is a crossbow."

A trip to Tertia's smithy was clearly on the cards.

...

"Back to Skyrim, eh?" - Lucien looked at Lena when Hauk and Garrus had left. "Do you plan to go all the way to Falkreath? It is about your father, isn't it?"

Lena nodded. "Yes, I can't quite put it out of my mind. I don't know if we'll get to Falkreath, but somehow I feel we need to look around along the border. For no logical reason" - she smiled at Lucien apologetically.

"Then do it - if only just to bring you peace."

Lena went about collecting her things for the trip. She noticed changes upstairs in the newly refurbished study - more books and scrolls, another chest, gems, daggers... "Lucien has finally taken possession of this space" - she thought with satisfaction. She heard him come up behind her.

"Will I find you here when we are back from Skyrim? Or should I fetch you from Fort Farragut?" - she asked, laying her hands on his shoulders.

"I have all but moved out of Fort Farragut" - he smiled at her. "We've opened up old Speaker's chamber in the Sanctuary - it is mine now. Ocheeva thought that after the incident with Rayenna, my main office should not be in an isolated fort, and I agreed with her. Rayenna was only interested in my private life - which was bad enough already - but what if the next intruder is after our professional secrets? We should not be risking that. And Garrus is right - Cheydinhal is safe for us."

Lucien was not intruding on Lena's house, and Lena was grateful for that. He was close, yet he didn't move in. She smiled and kissed him. Of course once the baby was born, things would have to change again, but she wasn't ready to think about it yet - she still had time.

20 Last Seed, 4E202 - Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary

Lena had thought they would be off adventuring already by lunchtime the day after their arrival in Cheydinhal, but Garrus could not arrange his leave quite so quickly, and Hauk wanted to talk to a few people at the Mages Guild, and... well... Lena was glad to just stay at home for a few days. Imagine that. She spent most of her time at the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary catching up with everyone and enjoying long swims in their new pool... A new pool? An old pool, as it transpired, but now again opened up.


"The previous Speaker had closed off some facilities here" - Vicente was explaining it to Lena: as the oldest member of the Sanctuary, he witnessed much of it. "There used to be much more luxury here before, but he had insisted that an assassin's abode had to be austere. Most people didn't agree, for this is our home, but no one dared to contradict. Have you seen any of the other Sanctuaries? Some are rumoured to be opulent... Probably another extreme."

"So Lucien didn't reopen anything when he took over?" - Lena couldn't imagine Lucien insisting on austerity.

"Oh he did, he changed a lot of things, just not all. He mostly focussed on getting furniture back in again... I did say the previous Speaker was austere" - Vicente smiled. "I still sleep on a slab - I got used to sleeping on the floor back then, but most others were glad to have their beds back."

"And then Lucien moved out to Fort Farragut. Why was that?" - Lena had always wanted to hear that story.

Vicente laughed and looked over his shoulder. "Did he never tell you?" - he steered Lena away from Lucien's quarters. "It's a funny little tale." He paused until they were well out of earshot. "He was quite a young man when he took over as Speaker here - he rose through the ranks fast and was a favourite of the Black Hand, as I understand, and quite the ladies' man, and perhaps that was connected..." - Vicente mused, grinning to himself. "But anyhow, the Speaker's quarters are at the end of the corridor behind mine, as you can see now, and when he moved in there out of the common room, they presented certain conveniences... for entertaining some of the Sisters..." - he winked. "And, well, sound does carry through these old halls."

"Yes, I see how that would be embarrassing" - Lena grinned.

"His Silencer was discontented. He was the previous Speaker's Silencer and thought that he should have been made Speaker instead of Lucien - but I must agree with the Black Hand here, Lucien was better suited for the job - negotiating with potential clients is a rather different skill from eliminating targets. The Silencer however disagreed... he complained to the Black Hand about 'rampaging orgies' at the Speaker's quarters" - Vicente rolled his eyes at the memory. "There was nothing of the sort, but nevertheless Lucien received quite a grilling. He meticulously avoided any flirtation with Sisters after that, and even moved out to Fort Farragut. The old Speaker's quarters were sealed then."

"What is Fort Farragut, actually?" - Lena remembered battling the Dark Guardians in the halls as a test of her mettle. "The Guardians in there attacked me when I had to go through it once."

"That's exactly what it is - a test" - Vicente nodded. "The Guardians in there attack anyone, not like the ones here in the Sanctuary or in the crypt."

"The crypt?" - Lena didn't remember any crypts in the Sanctuary.

"Yes, another area that the previous Speaker had sealed off and we have now opened up again. But you better ask Lucien about that" - he smiled.

Everyone at the Sanctuary seemed to be more talkative than before, more at ease, as if reopening of the pool and the crypt lifted a weight off everyone's shoulders... Strange, really, since only Vicente actually remembered those areas before they were closed off, and yet...

"It's like that business with the traitor" - Antoinette Marie suddenly looked serious. "There were rumours about a traitor for a long time - since well before you joined, you know. No one could imagine who the traitor could be, but it weighed on us... for a good reason, as it later transpired. If it weren't for you refusing that order..." - she diverted her gaze. "I don't like to think of what would have happened then."

"Yeah... it was a bad business" - Lena nodded. "So the areas that had been closed off..."

"Oh yeah - there were rumours about there being a pool and a crypt and an old Speaker's chamber, and may be a few other chambers too, but no one spoke of them, and of course it had all been sealed away... It was strange. It's like our home had secrets from us" - she smiled. "So now that it's all opened up, we are relieved, even if there are more sealed chambers to discover - but they can wait." They were standing in the central hall, and Lena suddenly noticed a new Black Door in the corner where the ladder to the well used to be. "Have you been to the crypt yet?" - Antoinetta pointed at it and Lena shook her head. "It's impressive. Our dead are above us - the exit to the surface is through there." Then she suddenly remembered it was time for her training session, and left in a hurry.


"Odd..." - thought Lena. Antoinetta Marie never missed an opportunity to gossip.

"The previous Speaker did not allow retreat" - Gogron spoke over Lena's shoulder. "The only way to fail a contract was to get killed while executing it, or else the Speaker would kill you when you were back. When Lucien took over, there were not many Brothers left in this Sanctuary, and his first task was to get recruits, Antoinetta was one of them. She failed her contracts several times, but Lucien is not like the previous Speaker - he allows you to try again. She owes him her life many times over, I think the crypt reminds her of that." Lena turned to look at Gogron, who wasn't laughing or joking as he normally would. "This Sanctuary has seen some tumultuous times under the previous Speaker. His Silencer was the same. We were glad when the Black Hand appointed Lucien to lead us instead."

"What happened to that Silencer?" Lena wondered whether it was the same Silencer who was killed just before the Purification order.

"He was killed executing a contract not long before that dreadful Purification order" - Gogron confirmed Lena's suspicion. "Say, I wonder if he had been set up... He was very experienced, you see, and there's been talk that the only way he'd go down would be if he had been murdered... by one of the Black Hand. So may be he was."

"Which would make it possible to issue that order to me..." - mused Lena. "I think you might be right."

"But you should ask Lucien about the crypt" - Gogron pointed at the Black Door. "It was his idea to reopen it." And with that he too remembered some urgent appointment and walked off.

Lena found Lucien at his desk in the newly reopened Speaker's chamber. She saw it with different eyes now.


"Oh hello" - Lucien greeted her, lifting his eyes from the papers. "Taking in the sights, I see?"

"And listening to stories" - Lena smiled, looking around.

"Ah. Well, believe it or not, it is good to have my old quarters back." Lucien didn't look apologetic. "I always regretted having to live in seclusion at Fort Farragut. Until you started showing up there, that is" - he smiled at her. "But we have no need for that now."

"Tell me about the crypt." Lena wasn't worried about Lucien's adventures so long ago. "No one would talk about it much."

"Yes, well..." - Lucien's eyes grew hard. "The reason the previous Speaker had it sealed was because a murder took place in there - one of our Brothers killed another. It wasn't discovered for weeks, but eventually the stench of a decomposing corpse permeated the entire crypt, not just the far corner where the murder took place. Then the Speaker had to find the culprit, and he tortured every Brother and Sister until one confessed. Whether it was the actual murderer or not, we'll never know, but the Speaker killed him, regardless. Then sealed the crypt."

"To prevent any further murders? That seems pointless."

"As a symbol, probably" - Lucien shrugged his shoulders. "It was a long time ago - well before I joined. But the tales are still alive."

"And the torture chambers?" - Lena realised that the torture would not have taken place in the common room or in the pool.

"I had them sealed" - Lucien looked straight at her. "I do not approve of torture of our Brothers and Sisters. There are always other ways. And I do not approve of bringing enemies into the Sanctuary, even if it is only into the dungeons. Besides, it was filled with angry wraiths last time we looked."

"The wraiths of the Brothers tortured to death in there" - Lena guessed.

"Most likely." Lucien paused, his gaze on the scrolls on the table. "Some of the old accounts in those archives leave too much unsaid" - he waved at the closed cabinets behind him. "I must assume that for every Brother with an unexplained death there is a wraith in the torture chambers." He sighed. "But the crypt is peaceful now, so we've unsealed it. The Count agreed to open up the old access through the tower in the city wall, too, and that's now the official entrance to the Sanctuary - you have to pass through the entire crypt to get to the Black Door."

"Assuming the Guardians don't cut you down first" - Lena smiled.


"Quite. And it is good for the junior members to be reminded of what it is we do, too" - Lucien looked into Lena's eyes. "And hope for the honour to be interred in the crypt when their time comes. So now your house can be a residence rather than a passage, even though assassins are still walking through the garden" - he smiled back.


"Thank you" - Lena realised just how much of it was for her benefit. "But what about the previous Speaker - where is he buried? Not in the crypt?"

"No, although he would normally have been. But since he had it sealed..." - Lucien sighed. "He was put to rest in Fort Farragut, but as those Guardians do not protect members of the Dark Brotherhood... it is a far less restful place." He looked at Lena and she knew there was more. "Whoever is interred there, will eventually rise as a Guardian as well. The Black Hand thought it was befitting after they learned of his practices of torture. Although it isn't breaking the Tenets, it does come very close to it."

"But..." - Lena realised that something was missing. "What about the Silencer? I never met him here... When was he killed?"

"After you joined, if that's what you are wondering" - Lucien gave her a long look. "Yes, he was probably murdered, and probably by Mathieu Bellamont, but we have no proof of that. He died on a contract, but when I came after that target later, the target claimed I was the first assassin to come after him... And he wasn't that much of a challenge. You're right - things don't add up." Lucien shook his head. "The body of Sarek - the Silencer - was dismembered, but the face was left recognisable, undoubtedly on purpose. We buried him in the nearest crypt - he isn't in ours, as he should have been." He paused, remembering. "As to why you never met him here... He resented me being made the Speaker, and although he followed my orders without any issues, he moved out of the Sanctuary even before me."

It seemed that the Dark Brotherhood was riddled with internal politics just like any organisation... Lena sighed at the thought. Lucien the Speaker was sitting before her, and she started to realise that his fame within the Brotherhood didn't just come from his skill as an assassin - a lot of it came from his actions for his Sanctuary, from picking up the pieces left by the previous Speaker, to navigating through the Purification crisis, then avoiding the Thalmor during the Great War, and finally reopening portions of the past that had been sealed away, while keeping the wraiths from roaming the halls... and all without losing a single member. No wonder then that this Sanctuary was a family like no other, and Lena was glad to be a part of it. She smiled and was about to leave Lucien to his work when he pointed at a lectern on his desk.

"Well, now that we are all back where we should be, Silencer" - he looked up at her. "This lectern is where I put more complex contracts - Silencer contracts, your contracts. They are not under immediate time pressure, or I would tell you about it, but of course they need doing without too much delay. Check in when you are back from Skyrim." He was giving her a few weeks' leave, but then it was back to work, Sister. Life was making sense again.

21-23 Last Seed, 4E202 - Kingscrest Cavern - Dive Rock - Uderfrykte

"Are we finally ready to leave?" - Lena looked at Hauk and Garrus with a trace of impatience. It was well past midday, and they were still in Cheydinhal, although their packs were stuffed with food and drink, and Garrus was still caressing his new Silver Ebony claymore and a steel crossbow. "All right, let's go!"

They mounted their horses and went North - Lena wanted to start at Dive Rock.

"Isn't it an awfully steep climb?" - asked Garrus. "Every adventurer passing by Cheydinhal claims to have been there, yet none can explain how they got up."

"Well, I've been there just last month" - Lena turned to him. "Roach didn't like the climb, yet climb she did, and your horses will do it too. There's a small camp there and I found a journal telling a sorry tale about some unholy beast - a Matron of some sort."

"Uderfrykte Matron?" - Hauk looked up. "Are you sure?"

"No, but it sounds about right" - Lena nodded. "Some Nord monster."

"It's an old tale, that one" - whistled Hauk. "But like all tales, there could be some truth to it. We should go see."

But before they could get to Dive Rock, they got distracted by a cave and decided to investigate, even though it was already getting late in the day.

"Well, how long can it possibly take?" - reasoned Garrus. "It's just a cave. We'll be out in an hour or two."

Kingscrest Cavern wasn't just a cave, however. It was large, sprawling, filled with beasts and partially submerged. It also contained a wilted forest.


"A forest? Inside a cave? How could this happen?" - wondered Lena looking around, while Garrus was having the time of his life fishing, or rather fighting slaughterfish in the water. He took off his ebony armour and was diving in and out of the lake punching the fish.

Then in one of the nooks of that cave they stumbled upon an Orc Adventurer.


"We go out searching for treasure to bring back to Orsinium" - he explained. "To make it great again." They chatted a bit longer, then parted ways. Or so they thought. The Orc actually followed them, and as soon as they looted the next chest, he attacked.

"Whaaa-?" - Hauk was bringing up the rear and got the hit of the Orc's claymore. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" He summoned a Xivilai and stood back letting it tackle the Orc. Lena and Garrus turned around, Lena reaching for a throwing star and Garrus readying his claymore... But none of it was necessary - Hauk already got the Orc with a shot from his crossbow. "You've got to be kidding me" - he muttered, going through the Orc's pockets. "He hasn't got much by way of loot, and all the chests here were locked - I guess he waited for you to pick the locks and then thought to get the loot off us" - he turned to Lena. "Stupid, really. But I like his claymore" - he turned over the enchanted Dwarven weapon in his hands. "And how's this?" - he pulled on the Orc's helmet making Lena and Garrus burst out with laughter. "What?"

"You look silly in that" - Lena managed to say through giggles. "Take it off." Hauk didn't need to be asked twice.


It took them nearly twenty hours to go through the cave and there was no place to rest there, so they just kept going, munching on sandwiches and sipping mead between the fights. The afternoon was growing to a close when they finally came out - the afternoon of the following day.

"There's a camp just up the hill" - said Lena mounting Roach. "May be we can rest there."

Aerin's camp was indeed very close by, but it wasn't empty, and although the Nord there wasn't hostile, he was also decidedly not friendly. They opted to take the climb to Dive Rock, after all the horses weren't tired.

"This is a beautiful view" - they all agreed on that. They read the journal and decided to have a look downhill in the morning.


Uderfrykte Matron turned out to be a mighty troll. A really mighty troll - she really made them work for it. But kill her they did, then looked around finding many bones, armour and weapons strewn around. This was one evil troll.

"Well, that's done" - Hauk said with satisfaction. "No one will be eaten by that ugly troll any more."

They headed back to Dive Rock where they had left their horses, but Lena spotted something red a little downhill. Another corpse?

"Why, but this is Herminia Cinna!" - she exclaimed in surprise. "Whatever was she doing here?"

"Who is Herminia Whatever?" - Garrus and Hauk stared at her.

"She was a collector of Ayleid antiquities from the Imperial City" - Lena explained. "She was the one who had the Crown of Nenalata and wanted me to bring a different crown to Umbacano" - she turned to Hauk, reminding him of that story. "I never imagined she'd done any adventuring of her own!"

"And obviously she should not have tried" - he nodded with regret.

They returned to Dive Rock only to find that same fellow from Aerin's camp there waiting for them.

"Is anything the matter?" - Lena asked him in surprise.

"No, nothing, just taking in the sights" - he replied rather absent-mindedly.

Lena shook her head. "Strange" - she thought. They mounted their horses and started a careful descent. The sights were remarkable indeed though, with Cheydinhal in the distance and the Chapel of Arkay standing tall and proud.


It was already dark when they got to Aerin's camp again, and now it was deserted. The wind died down and it started to snow. The stayed the night.

Post 45 -- The scene with the three kitty sisters is cute. Always fun listening to their banter as we speak to each one.



Skip the tomb? That is a strange idea!

The part when Garrus starts punching cracked me up a bit. It's always odd when NPCs do that. I particularly get annoyed though, when it's an archer whom my character wants to just stand at a distance and fire arrows, yet he or she rushes into the fray and is now getting pummeled by MY character as we don't expect this archer to suddenly be in front of us. Your in-game explanation (Garrus wants to save his weapon from degradation) makes sense, though.

Good she gave Biene the entire set of ceremonial armor.


Post 46: They are going to Fort Sutch. Sutch, the town one Bethesda never got around to adding back when the game was in development. There was some explanation in-game for why it didn't get added, but I forget what it was.

Whistling for horses is awesome.

Lena definitely isn't the first to feel disappointment with Traven. There used to be entire discussions devoted to him, his decisions, and his policies.

Ha, here it is! She's meeting Rowley. Wow, I love that conversation Lena has with him. Very displeased, she is.

Seems like she got rid of him, according to what she says to Lucien later. If so, all three of my current OB characters are thankful.

Yeah, that Rowley was a piece of work... Of course he had to be "taken care of", but his corpse will never be found, although the slaughterfish in Lake Rumare are getting very fat this time of year, I hear...

So now Lena is stuck with this slave at the Deepscorn Hollow, and she can't just get rid of him... that would be wrong, you see. Hmm...

Garrus is very fond of punching things, it appears. Guards are especially trained in hand-to-hand combat, I hear, for the purpose of breaking up drunken brawls. Dead criminals rarely pay their fines, you see.

24-26 Last Seed, 4E202 - Skyrim Temple - Greenwall - Deadlands

"So, what's the plan?" - asked Garrus in the morning when they all crawled out of the little tents at Aerin's camp. "I know you said we'd go North, but that's a bit vague... We are 'North' already."

"I don't have a plan" - admitted Lena. "'North' is as good as it gets."

They had a bite to eat for breakfast, mounted their horses and rode... North.


To take it easy on the horses, they decided to stick to the road, as long as there was one. They turned left just before the Ancestor Moth monastery and some time after came to a very long staircase going up to a peculiar looking ruin.


"That's Shivering Isles architecture, but what is it doing here?" - wondered Lena.

"Well, you know the answer to that!" - grinned Hauk, starting the climb the stairs.

Skyrim Temple was a Nordic crypt housing draugr, skeevers, necromancers and bandits, with more draugr and skeevers appearing from everywhere. The footing was treacherous on ice-covered surfaces - it was easy to slip or get stuck between the rocks, which happened to everyone many times, fortunately also including the enemies. Eventually they came out on the other side - the crypt turned out to be a passage. There they found a bandit camp, and as it was getting late and the sun had already set, they decided to spend the night there.


"Look - that way is Skyrim" - Lena stood on a platform facing North. "The Northern route goes West towards Bruma here, but this descent doesn't look too bad - we could go into Skyrim and look around."

"I thought you've been to Skyrim before" - Garrus looked at her with suspicion. "What's this about 'looking around'?"

"This doesn't go into Skyrim proper" - chimed in Hauk. "This is just the Southern edge of it. In Skyrim you'd be in the Rift, which means birches and aspen trees, but all you see here is firs - so that's just between the border and the Rift. I doubt you will find much of interest there" - he turned to Lena.

"You are probably right" - she nodded, starting the descent. Hauk and Garrus exchanged glances, sighed, whistled for horses and followed.

They rode for much of the day not seeing anything other than trees and snow foxes, but they found a road going North, which they followed. It led them to a small village called Greenwall where thankfully there was an inn, so they stopped there for the night. The locals were friendly enough, if a little suspicious of outsiders - "You keep your nose out of our business, and we'll keep ours out of yours" seemed to be the mantra. So after a good rest, Lena, Hauk and Garrus saddled their horses in the morning and rode... North.


The road meandered through the woods for some time longer, and they passed a few other small villages and a logging site, which was the biggest village so far - it housed the workers and the offices, and even had a guard tower. From there the road turned East and the sky coloured red.

"What on Nirn is going on?" - Garrus pointed at the sky. "That doesn't look like Aurora Borealis."

"This isn't Aurora Borealis" - Hauk shook his head. "It looks like there's a fire..."

"I've seen this before" - said Lena, spurring on Roach. "And if it is what I think it is, it isn't good."

The fire that Hauk spoke of, must have been really big, because the sky just kept getting darker, and now not just the Eastern quarter of it but the entire sky above them was red, with black clouds and orange shots of lightening crossing it. The fire seemed to be raging on top of a hill to their right - a hill with a staircase on its side. Garrus spotted some charred tree trunks on top.

"Whatever settlement was there, has gone up in flames, it seems" - he said, shaking his head. But Lena was already rushing up the stairs, casting fire protection spells, her sword at the ready. "Isn't she overreacting?" - Garrus turned to Hauk with surprise. "Surely, the fire would have consumed everything by now."

"I don't think it's an ordinary fire" - Hauk started casting his own shield spells. "And she seems intent on putting it out."

They scrambled after Lena who was already at the top of the hill fighting something.

"Just a snow leopard" - she shrugged at them, sheathing her sword. "There's no one here."

"Of course there would not be, I told you..!" - started Garrus, then stopped mid-sentence. They stood among burned down houses with the fire still raging ahead - all around an Oblivion gate.


"Come on" - Lena jerked her head towards it.

There may not have been any daedra outside the Oblivion gate, but there were certainly plenty of them inside.

"Wow!" - Garrus' eyes lit up with excitement. "Just like during the Oblivion Crisis!"

"Imagining yourself being the Hero of Kvatch and Bruma, are you?" - Hauk nudged him in the side. "Well, you better watch out - it's harder than it looks. Ouch!" - a fireball from a nearby spinning tower hit him and he cursed, casting healing spells. A spider daedra in the distance noticed their presence shooting a shock spell, a xivilai came from behind wringing his hands. Garrus smirked, taking up his claymore - he absorbed all the spells and was ready to engage. "Atronach" - Hauk shook his head, still healing himself. Lena cloaked and was closing in on the spider daedra - it was no time to play heroics. She summoned a clannfear and slashed at the spider almost in one movement - the spider was surprised and paused for a moment, preparing to release the spiderlings, no doubt, but Hauk's silver bolt interrupted her, and soon she fell. Of course there was still the xivilai that Garrus was dancing with, xivilai's clannfear that was now ramming Hauk, and a storm atronach that came from around the corner, and let's not forget several spinning towers throwing fireballs at everything and all. Lena tried not to get hit by the spells, suddenly feeling the full force of the curse of the Apprentice. At least there were no wraiths here - having her vampirism triggered amid all that lava would have been problematic, to say the least - she remembered vividly being burned from within every time she set foot into the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon back in the time of the Oblivion Crisis. But that was two centuries ago... "What is this gate doing here now?" - she wondered, but a stray fireball hit her flat in the face and she fell, knocked out, rolling dangerously close to the edge of a lava pool...

"Ouch" - she got up gingerly, trying to stay in cover from any further fireballs - the heat of lava was intense but her healing was stronger. Still, she got out of there as quickly as she could, looking for another cover.

"Are you all right?" - Hauk caught up with her. "Don't just stand there - fireballs!" - he pushed her to the side just in time, taking a hit himself. Even Garrus was getting singed - he could not absorb that many hits.

"What do we do?" - he turned to her with newly found respect. "Back out or..?"


"No, we are not going back out" - Lena shook her head. "This way!" - she pointed at a tower just visible in the red mist. Hauk and Garrus followed.

...

"So, what are we doing here?" - Garrus hoped Lena had a plan. They've dispatched the daedra on the lower level of the tower and Lena seemed ready to go all the way to the top, but Garrus could not see the point of it.

"One of the towers in this area of the Deadlands should have a Sigil Stone that holds the gate open" - explained Lena. "At least this is how it was during the Oblivion Crisis. We find it, grab it, and the gate collapses, spitting us out back in Mundus - in theory."

"In theory" - Garrus whistled. "Sounds encouraging. Has it always worked like that?" - he looked at Lena with suspicion.

"No" - she had to admit. "Sometimes it would spit you out in another part of the Deadlands... and sometimes... well, often... you would be alone... But we've always eventually found each other afterwards" - she looked at him brightly.

"Riiight..." - Garrus checked the edge of his claymore. "Well, let's get going then."

26-27 Last Seed, 4E202 - Deadlands - Mammoths

"Oh wow, look at that!" - Garrus was clearly enjoying himself. "And what's this?"


"Drink" - said Hauk. Lena shot him a glance but drank. "It's a blood fountain" - he added, turning to Garrus. "Adapted for non-vampires. Drink - the fight is still long."

"No! I am not drinking blood!" - Garrus protested with indignation.

"You do if you want to stay alive" - retorted Hauk, leaning to the fountain and drinking. "It's not the time to be squeamish."

Garrus looked at him with horror, but he must have seen the wisdom in his words because he too drank.

"All right, I've tasted worse" - he grinned. "But why exactly are they trying to keep us alive?"

"They are not, that's for the dremoras and xivilai, but it sustains mortals as well."

"So the blood is actually..." - Garrus' face contorted with horror again.

"Mortal, yes" - Hauk's eyes were hard. "But it's processed. You are not a cannibal."

"I no longer regret to have missed the Oblivion Crisis" - said Garrus through his teeth. "Let's keep going. Where is this Sigil Stone?"

...

The tower had many floors, with ever increasing defences. Where they encountered beasts on the lower levels, they now had to deal with groups of xivilai led by a dremora mage. Lena was mostly staying out of the spells and with good reason - a single hit would knock her out, they were that strong.


"How on Nirn did you manage it back then, on your own?" - Garrus wondered helping her up.

"With difficulty" - she admitted. "I used stealth a lot and tried to avoid fighting, although it wasn't always possible... Let's go" - she cut herself off, it wasn't her favourite topic.

They climbed another level, and there it was: the Sigil Stone.


"Right, this is what we came for" - Lena turned to her companions. "Stay close and hold on to me when I grab it."

They stood among the burned down houses again, but the fire had completely disappeared.

"It worked, we're back" - Lena smiled at them. "How long were we in there?" She looked at the sky - it was dusk. "What day is it?"

"Day?" - Garrus was surprised. "Why, the same day as when we went in, surely?"

"Not necessarily" - Hauk looked at Lena with understanding. "Time passes differently in other realms. We should find someone to ask."

It was midnight when they reached Sungard - the woodcutters' settlement. They hoped to stay the night at the workers' house but were told to leave. "We are not an inn! Go to Greenwall" - was the reply.


So they rode on.


About half way to Greenwall in the middle of the wilderness the dark night sky suddenly turned red - another Oblivion gate sprang open. Wild beasts turned onto each other, nightmarish creatures came out of nowhere - giant spiders and giant snakes. A herd of mammoths rushed down the mountain attacking everything in their way, followed by a pack of wolves attacking the mammoths...


"What on Nirn has just happened?!" - shouted Garrus who was falling asleep in the saddle from exhaustion moments earlier. The horses bolted and ran off.

"Spread out and run!!!" - shouted Hauk, and that's what they did, heading towards Greenwall and trying to stay close to the road so as not to get lost.

The mammoths turned their attention to the wolves, spiders and snakes and lost sight of three humans running away from the fight. The road made a few turns, and suddenly darkness fell, complete with a starry sky.

"Wow! Is it all over?" - Garrus slowed down, looking back. Hauk was catching up without much effort but Lena... well... she was on her last legs, but still running. "Gosh, you look tired!" - Garrus caught her as she decided to just drop on the ground then and there.

"Getting knocked out has its price" - she managed, breathing hard.

"Watch out!!!" - screamed Hauk, summoning a clannfear. "We are not done yet!" One last mammoth was thundering down the road after them. But at least it was just one mammoth, not half a dozen as before.

Thump!

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall - or something like that" - Lena grinned, having touched the mammoth with a paralysis spell. "They do make for a lot of steaks!"


"Let's hope we won't have horse meat for dinner as well" - said Hauk grimly. "I like Luna."

They whistled for the horses and listened for the sound of hooves, and sure enough all three horses appeared from behind the trees. With a huge sigh of relief, they got into the saddles. It was dawn.

"I want to go back and see whether the Oblivion gate is still up there" - said Lena, not looking at her companions.

"What - now?!" - Hauk didn't think it was a good idea. "We should ride to Greenwall and sleep for two days straight!"

"Yes, now, and Greenwall can wait" - Lena looked at him and he saw that she was serious. "Did that Oblivion gate just disappear? I need to know. There was nothing there just last morning, no gate, no spiders, no mammoths, no wolves. Where did it all come from?"

They retraced their steps almost all the way to Sungard, but there was no Oblivion gate anywhere, just a lot of dead animals - wolves, leopards and spiders, but no snakes. A herd of mammoths was grazing on the slopes, they rode carefully past and the mammoths did not attack.

"They are not suicidal, you know" - said Hauk. "But they do panic easily, so it's best they don't see any fighting."

"Like giant snakes attacking giant spiders - yeah, I can see how that would be upsetting" - smirked Garrus. But jokes aside, it was rather disconcerting that the nightmare just vanished without a trace.

"Vaermina?" - Lena wondered aloud.

"We'll need to ask around" - nodded Hauk.

Finally they reached Greenwall. It was nearly midday.

-----------

Skyrim is mostly TWMP Skyrim Improved with all the dependencies. The Oblivion gates and the animals are certainly theirs! And this is just by the border..! Do we dare to venture further in?

27-28 Last Seed, 4E202 - Oblivion gates of Skyrim

"Stay here, I'm going to investigate a few things" - Lena told Hauk and Garrus. "No, I've slept enough" - she cut off Hauk's protests. "I'll go quietly and try not to spook the mammoths." She turned around and was gone.

"She's gone to see if that Oblivion gate would reopen again" - Garrus noted quite unnecessarily. "It's like she feels personally responsible for it..."

"That's because she does feel personally responsible for it" - Hauk looked at him sideways, refilling his mead. "She closed hundreds of gates during the Crisis. Most people would run away from them, she would run in. Now that habit got re-awakened."

"But why would she do it? We closed that one gate, and promptly another sprung up!"

"Yes, that was odd" - Hauk nodded. "This is how it was during the Oblivion Crisis, but of course there was a reason for it then. I wonder what is going on now."

"How do you know so much about the Oblivion Crisis and the gates?" - Garrus suddenly realised that Hauk could not have lived through it. "Weren't you born much later?"

"Indeed, I'm only 51 - in actual years" - he smirked. "The Oblivion Crisis - I read about it, talked to people who went through it, there are actually quite a lot of them around still, but they don't like to talk about it much, understandably so. As for the gates... they didn't completely vanish after the Crisis was over - and you see them here again. I closed a few myself."

"Wow!" - the innkeep overheard that last sentence and was now offloading food and drink on their table. "Wait... I've heard of you. The Specialist."

"Is that what they call it?" - Hauk grinned.

"We do have Mehrunes Dagon's gates popping up here and there, they never really stopped popping up in Skyrim, in spite of all the shielding" - the innkeep explained, turning to Garrus. "No one knows why really. It stopped for a while during the Great War, but then restarted again. The Legion has been keeping on top of it - that's something that Stormcloaks don't realise, that they will have to take over that duty if they win the war."

"At least we didn't have a dragon swoop in onto us yesterday as well" - Garrus shook his head. "So what's with the Specialist?" - he looked at Hauk and the innkeep in turn.

"Someone who specialises in closing Oblivion gates" - the innkeep shrugged his shoulders. "And other sensitive business." He finished taking roast off the spit and placed a well-laden plate in front of Hauk. "Your dinner, Optio" - he smiled.

"Thank you" - Hauk winked at him. "Yes, I've closed a few gates as and when they appeared" - he turned to Garrus who was now admiring his own well-laden plate. "But I wasn't aware of any trouble in this area. Was that development quite recent?" - he asked the innkeep.

"Fairly" - he nodded. "But mostly these are not ordinary gates - they come and go. We couldn't call the Legion for help because they keep shifting and moving, it's a nightmare, really. And always at night. We barely leave our houses after nightfall."

"But it seems to be quiet during the day" - Hauk looked up from his roast. "We rode for two days or so without running into anything more threatening than a fox."

"That's right, but gates bring other curses with them... werewolves, trolls, giant spiders, monsters of all kinds the likes of which we don't normally see... Not your usual daedra either..."

"And Lena went into the night to investigate!" - Garrus exclaimed with worry. "Should we go after her?"

"No" - Hauk shook his head. "She'll be better off on her own. She'll cloak and sneak about and hopefully see something without getting into any fights at all."


"Well? It took you a while!" - Hauk greeted Lena when she returned in the evening of the following day. "What did you discover?"


"I found the gate" - she told them. "It was further off the road than we thought. I went in and closed it. It was lucky this wasn't the one we went in together - it took a long time to get to the tower - the right tower, there were two others."

"But it's done now" - Hauk motioned the innkeep for another tankard of mead for her.

"Yeah..." - she nodded, relaxing. "Oh, you know those giant snakes?" - they nodded. "They are not aggressive, it appears. They were just wound up by all the fighting around them."


They chatted a bit longer, and finally Lena had to admit that she was much too tired and had to rest. Adventuring could wait until tomorrow.

Post 47: nice, look at Hauk's armor! So golden and glittery. The mobs will get distracted as they are blinded by its glorious, perfect shine.

You described the Arena fight well. Oh gosh. What a crazy summon at the very end.

They bathe at the end.

Post 50: Aw, they can't stay at Cropsford. I love Imperial Bridge Inn, and so do my characters. That place is magical when the sun's setting.

Yes that is the question: what exactly are Hauk and Lena? Are they a pair? Or just conveniently they sometimes get closer than usual? Their explanation is best, I suppose. Things... happen sometimes.

I posted a cameo #12 in the shorties thread which didn't make it into the main story.

29 Last Seed, 4E202 - The Rift

"Tomorrow we'll go West" - said Lena yawning. They were staying at the Greenwall Inn and wanted to get to Riverwood and possibly go on to Falkreath. "Look - I marked some of the villages that we passed" - she spread a map on the table.


"Look at all these crypts along the border!" - Garrus exclaimed with excitement. "The innkeep tells me the draugr in there are really tough!"

"And how is that a good thing?" - Hauk looked at him suspiciously. "Haven't you had enough fighting undead in Cyrodiil already?"

"We'll see tomorrow" - Lena shook her head and went to bed.

The next morning the weather was beautiful and they could see The Rift in all its glory.


"So, which way to Riverwood?" - asked Garrus. "North through Sungard or South and then West through the mountains?"

They didn't know. They decided to try North, riding the way they came two days ago. Some mammoths were still grazing on the slopes, but since Lena had closed the Oblivion gate, they hoped to see little trouble on the way. Well... up until they ran into half a dozen of werewolves.

The fighting was intense mostly because the werewolves went for the horses, the horses bolted and everyone ended up chasing everyone else. The werewolves weren't wearing armour though and easily outran the humans and the horses both. They could knock you out with one swipe, too...


So by the time the fighting was over, it was well past midday and our party was still near Greenwall. Besides, two of the horses had been knocked out and needed healing...

"We won't get very far this way" - Lena examined everyone's wounds. "We should go back to the inn and try again tomorrow."

They walked back to Greenwall, leading the horses along.

"But what about this crypt?" - Garrus pointed at an entrance near a wayshrine. "How bad can those draugr be?" - he shrugged, pushing a heavy door.


"They can be pretty bad" - cursed Lena facing half a dozen draugr in a cramped burial chamber. Garrus had been already knocked out and Hauk was fighting his own draugr squad behind her.

...

"All right, you have a point" - Garrus rose to his feet massaging a massive bump on his head. "If we want to get to Riverwood, we should get up early tomorrow and avoid any werewolves, Oblivion gates or Nordic crypts."

"Wiser words have never been spoken" - nodded Hauk, not really expecting such a sensible turn of events.

"And anyway - what's in Riverwood?" - Garrus looked at Lena with a question. "I thought you wanted to go North?"

"Yes, well, it's North, sort of" - Lena smiled. "But with all the monsters around, I thought we should check there."

"Yes, he's there" - Hauk said in her ear. "The innkeep told me." And then turning to Garrus he added: "The witcher is in Riverwood - the White Wolf, Lena's brother."

------------------------

I am working on Southern Skyrim updates for TWMP Skyrim Improved. I've been planting trees all day yesterday replacing frosty pines by birches and aspen trees in The Rift! Because, you know, Hauk is right - it's not The Rift without birches...

Sorry for having fallen so far behind. I've just finished reading your adventure with Mannimarco and Traven. Very exciting and well done. Much better than the original Mages Guild ending.

Thanks, Macole! Traven and Mannimarco are both dead... but what of the Mages Guild? Who will be the new Arch Mage? Which policies will they issue? Hold on to your hats...

30 Last Seed, 4E202 - The way to Riverwood

"Time to get up!" - Lena nudged Garrus awake at dawn. "Let's see if we can get to Riverwood before the nightfall with all the monsters."

"All right, let's get going" - Hauk got up too. "North or South West?"

"Let's try the Northern route again" - decided Lena.

...

"So, this is where we closed the first Oblivion gate" - Garrus pointed up the hill. "It seems quiet there now."


They made the climb to Riften Watch just to be sure. Yes, all was quiet.

"The barracks are all burned down of course, but we are back anyhow" - a guard greeted them. "Someone went in and closed that gate even before we had time to call in the Legion. The Jarl put out a bounty on the Sigil Stones - the steward will pay you a hefty sum for each one, even if the gates were not in The Rift." He gave Lena a meaningful look.


"What makes you think we have any Sigil Stones?" - she said with suspicion.

"Oh, nothing" - the guard rolled his eyes. "A wild guess. Three adventurers stand before me - a battlemage, a warrior and a stealthy type - perhaps an assassin. They climbed all the way up to this hill while the devastation is plain to see from below. Every normal person would walk away, they walk in. The battlemage and the warrior have Legion training - I can tell just by the way you stand!" - he smirked at Garrus who started making disbelieving noises. "The stealthy type..." - he looked Lena over. "Well, I don't know what you are exactly, but that's Nightingale attire" - he smiled broadly. "You know Karliah? She sends her regards" - he winked. "You are in Riften - welcome. Go see the Jarl's steward at the Keep" - he pointed East. "Shadow hide you."

"Oh" - Lena smiled back. "I suppose we're quite obvious."

Hauk laughed, clapping the guard on the shoulder.

"Good to see you're trained as well as we are" - Garrus put out his hand. "I'm with Cheydinhal City Guard."

"Welcome, Captain" - the guard shook his hand. "Yeah, it shows..."

They chatted for a while about this and that, looking over Riften from the Watch. The Keep was set into the mountain side - there were rumours of Dwemer catacombs going deep into the rock. The town itself nestled around a lake, with most houses backing into the slopes.

"We'll have to visit the town another time" - noted Lena looking at the sun about to plunge into the lake. "We are trying to get to Riverwood, and we were hoping to find a route from these parts somehow..."

"For Riverwood you are too far East" - the guard shook his head. "Head back the way you came and follow the road to Nimalten City - which is a small farming village and no city at all" - he smirked. "Hire a guide there to take you to Riverwood - he knows hidden mountain passes and you'll arrive within a few hours."

"Mountain passes!" - exclaimed Lena. "Of course... We tried to find our own way across the mountains, but couldn't."

"Well, those guides must make a living somehow" - the guard winked. "They know which passes are relatively safe and which are sure death traps to stay away from. They are not marking any of this on your map either, don't bother asking. And you'll never find it yourself even after you've walked with them a few times."

That certainly matched Lena's experience. Whenever she'd been sent to one or the other cave or crypt, finding a way through the mountains was always a task worthy a Dovakiin. Or a local mountain guide, as it appeared.

...

In the meantime the sun kept sinking, so Lena, Hauk and Garrus hurried back to Nimalten City where they hired a guide to Riverwood, arriving a few hours later. Evenings were busy in Riverwood, with the hunters back in the village and the farmers done with the day's work. The place was buzzing with activity, in particular around the inn.

"Welcome to The Sleeping Giant Inn!" - they heard a familiar voice as they entered. "Come on in - I've got a clean mug here somewhere..." - Orgnar rummaged under the counter. "We've got mead and rooms, I cook - there isn't much else to tell. See Delphine if you want to sell werewolf meat, she's got a use for that" - he grinned. "You won't find it in my cooking though."

"Thank Akatosh for that!" - grinned Hauk, taking a seat next to Camilla Valerius and winking at her. "How have you been, Orgnar?"


"Fine, fine" - Orgnar grinned back, busying himself with food and drink. "Who's the Imperial?" - he nodded at Garrus.

"Oh he's all right" - Hauk smiled reassuringly. "He's new to Skyrim but he knows the world isn't black and white. Captain of the Guard in Cheydinhal. But you know who the Count of Cheydinhal is? Andel Indarys."

"A Dark Elf? Say no more" - Orgnar nodded.

And while Hauk and Garrus went about sampling Orgnar's cooking with due attention, Lena looked around for her brother. The White Wolf was playing Gwent with a couple of hunters, and judging by the broad grins on their faces, it was a brilliant time to pull him away from the card table.

"Geralt!" - Lena made a theatrical appearance. "Back with Sven's mother, I see?" - she winked at the hunters who chuckled, folding the cards. The game was over.

"Not with Sven's mother, but I am staying at her house, yes" - Geralt put away his purse, although there didn't seem to be anything worth putting away in it. "And what brings you here, little sister?"

"Oh, this and that" - Lena winked, taking his hand and leading him away from the table. "We need to catch up. In private."



----------------------

Geralt's apparance, weapons, armour and signs are courtesy Classic Witcher based on Witcher 2.

In TWMP Skyrim Improved there aren't many land routes between different inhabited areas. Instead, you have to find a guide and he'll take you where you want to go (fast travel). The mountain ridges in between are very steep, quite impossible to climb, not even with Shadowmere or a mountain goat. Clearly, the guides take you through mountain passes, but there aren't any built. I plan to change that. Since I'm currently just exploring Southern Skyrim, I shall build some passes connecting The Rift and Falkreath Hold. Riverwood is in Falkreath Hold here because Whiterun is more to the North East compared to Skyrim The Game. I might change it later, especially since there's no Whiterun city in TWMP Skyrim Improved. And no Riften, either, which is my current building project, now that Riverwood is done.

30-31 Last Seed, 4E202 - Catching up with Geralt

"Geralt! Back in Riverwood, are you?" - Lena embraced her brother. "I thought you were building a house on the moor?"

"It is being built" - Geralt nodded. "I don't have to supervise though. I'm a witcher, not a builder" - he winked. "And there are monsters here in need of my attention."

"Monsters awakened by the Oblivion gates - we've heard" - Lena nodded. "Werewolves and trolls and such."

"As well as rampaging ice worms and mammoths" - chimed in Garrus who was watching Geralt with rapt attention.

"That's just wild life spooked by the fighting" - Geralt turned to him. "I try not to fight wild life."

"'Try to' being the keyword here" - grinned Hauk. "We tried too, but that mammoth was set on trampling us to death."

"You've got to calm it first, of course" - Geralt smiled. "I thought you mages knew the spell... Oh wait - you're a battlemage."

"Touché!" - laughed Hauk. "I never thought of calming it..."

The tavern was getting loud with tales of hunting the mammoths while avoiding being trampled to death by the rest of the herd. After a while, Lena got up and tugged on Geralt's sleeve.

"We need to catch up - in private" - she shot a glance at Hauk - you know this already. Hauk nodded in understanding.

"Well, there's always Sven's mother's house - she gave me the attic, says it's good to have a man around the house again. I don't think Sven likes this very much" - he grinned. "Let's go."

"Isn't she talking your ear off with her praise of Sven?" - asked Lena on the way.

"She is, but he's still a little boy to her, she doesn't see him as a grown man, you know" - Geralt shrugged. "I wouldn't exactly call him mature either, but he's not a little boy."

"Is he still trying to impress Camilla with his poetry?"

"Not after you put a stop to it" - Geralt grinned. "It's open rivalry now between him and Faendal, to everyone's amusement - neither of them can fight, although Faendal is a fine marksman. Trouble is, it's no use in a fist fight."

Lena was glad to see that Riverwood was still a lively place.

Sven's mother's attic was set up as a large guest room not just with a bed but also with its own dining table, and Lena had to admit that aside of having to listen to Hilde's praise of her boy, this was a very comfortable place to stay. Geralt got drinks out of the cupboard and gestured her to the table.

"You look like you are about to burst with all the things you want to tell me" - he said, grinning. "So let's hear it, little sister."

Geralt didn't wear heavy armour, but he was sitting across the table from Lena, and was thus protected from sudden punches under the ribs. Lena had to settle on glaring at him instead.

"I found a letter from our father - to both of us. I found the fortress where he was stationed. He might still be alive. Lucien and I... I don't know what exactly... but I chose him. Also, I am pregnant."

"Whoa! Slow down!" - Geralt sat back in his chair. "Yes, I see the need to catch up. Who's the father?"

"What?"

"Who is the father of your child?" - Geralt grinned, knowing full well that his question was confusing.

"Oh... I am not sure" - Lena blushed. "Hauk or Lucien."

"Well, that's not too bad. I'm glad you finally admitted to yourself that there has never been anyone else for you besides Lucien. It wasn't really a choice, was it?" - he looked at her with his penetrating gaze.

"But when we were at Lake View..." - Lena hesitated. "You told me to leave him alone!"

"I told you not to toy with him, that's not the same. Also, I asked you about your feelings, and you couldn't answer."

"That's also what Hauk said..." - Lena nodded. "It is strange really that he and you and possibly even Lucien should understand my feelings better than I..."

"Nothing strange about it - happens all the time" - Geralt shrugged. "The same as me and Yen."

"Have you heard from her? She isn't here yet, I take it?"

"She isn't here yet, no, but I've had a raven" - Geralt smiled. "No messages - or rather the raven itself was the message. Sent through a portal - it was reeking of magic. Yen herself will have to travel by ship though, and that takes months and months."

Lena nodded - she made the journey to the Northern Realms and back herself. The Great Maelstrom in the Middle Ocean was unpredictable - not only could it swallow ships whole, but because of the time dilation around it, you never knew how long the journey would take, assuming you survived it. It was not surprising therefore that such journeys were rare, and so Yennefer could not be expected to arrive in Skyrim quickly.

"So, to the other news then" - Geralt changed the topic. "Our father. Tell me."

"Delphine gave me some old papers - in exchange for services still to be rendered - and I followed up on them, looked around and found the fortress where our father was stationed. Wolf Asgarsen, Commander of the Second Legion charged with protecting the border crossing into Cyrodiil. I found it, found the fortress and inside it found some papers. It's not far from here - we should go and you can see it for yourself."

"Just like that?" - Geralt was amazed. "I think there's more to tell, sis."

"There is, plenty more" - Lena nodded. "But it's best told when we are there. We'll take Hauk and Garrus as well - there were a lot of Legion papers there too, Hauk will want to see those, and Garrus I expect will just enjoy the adventure."

"Garrus seems like a steady fellow" - Geralt nodded. "Who sees much, says little."

"Exactly."


The Pale Pass Fortress was set into the rock on the Northern side of the Jerall Mountains - it was all inside the rock, the only thing visible outside being a heavy iron clad door. Last time Lena was there, she sneaked past the wraiths and skeletons roaming the old halls, but with four people going in, there was no sneaking to be expected - they'd have to fight the undead. But then again, with four people that wasn't going to be a problem.

The fortress was fairly large and it took them a few hours to reach the Commander's quarters in the depth of it. The two wraiths that guarded the office put up a remarkable fight, but they too were put to rest, for a while at least. Lena showed Hauk the Commander's desk filled with Legion papers, and Hauk quickly became engrossed in them. Garrus volunteered to try and rekindle the fire in the kitchen, leaving Lena and Geralt to talk.

"This was the Commander's bedroom - our father's bedroom" - Lena led Gerrit into the room behind the office. "There is a safe behind that tapestry where I found our father's letter. It's got a blood enchantment on it, and if it is done right, you should be able to open it."

Geralt didn't have to be asked twice. He pushed away the tapestry and put his hand on the door of a small safe. The lock clicked and he retrieved a heavy scroll. [1]

...

"So... we have a name now - Wolf Asgarsen" - Geralt rolled up the scroll. "That certainly explains your last name and the choice of the witcher school for me" - he mused. "And you think he could still be alive?"

"He could be" - nodded Lena. "He would be about three hundred years old now. Too much for a regular Nord, but he was - is - Dragonborn, that changes things."

"Well... but this scroll feels old. The letter was most likely written just after the death of your adoptive grandmother, and perhaps just as the Oblivion Crisis was unfolding. It could have been what prompted him to write it. That was two hundred years ago though, he would have been just pushing hundred then - nothing unusual even for a 'regular' Nord." Geralt wasn't convinced with Lena's reasoning. "I think you are giving in to wishful thinking. I too wish he was alive, but I think he's been dead for two hundred years now, sis."

Lena was sitting on the Commander's bed, looking rather forlorn. She so wished their father could still be alive... but she had to agree with her brother's arguments - it was highly unlikely. Geralt sat down next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, at least we've found each other" - he kissed her forehead, pulling her into an embrace. "Or rather you found me" - he smiled, looking into her eyes. "Remember Flotsam? Master Witcher is still at your service." [2]

"Yes, I remember" - Lena smiled at him. "I also remember that Master Witcher was in need of my healing quite a few times. Remember Velen?" [3]

"Filthy beasts" - Geralt was reminded of the plague of ghouls spreading through the battlefields covered in corpses. "It isn't easy fighting a dozen at a time, even for a witcher."

"I want to go to Falkreath to see if there are any archives of the Second Legion" - Lena said quietly, not letting go of Geralt. "In case there are any records of where Father could be buried..."

"I'll come with you" - Geralt nodded. "But first - what about the wraiths?"

"What wraiths?"

"The two wraiths that were guarding the Commander's quarters - the wraiths of his two lieutenants that Mother had killed. They need to be put to rest."

"But we've just put them to rest?" - Lena already forgot about all the things a witcher could do, besides fighting monsters.

"No, we've just defeated them for now, they will rise again soon enough" - Geralt shook his head. "I want to put them to rest permanently."

"Oh right - with a ritual!" - now she remembered how it worked. "And you will need an object that binds them to this world... Like what? We've got nothing of theirs and nothing of our mother's that we could use..."

"We can do better than an object - you are here."

"Me?" - Lena wasn't sure where this was going.

"You witnessed it... after a fashion."

"I... Oh! The dream!" Lena remembered a strange dream she had when she fell asleep in this very room last time she was here. "But that was just a dream..." [4]

"Not just a dream - it was a memory. You were there - in your mother's belly" - Geralt was watching Lena's face, unsure how she would react. "You were there when Mother assassinated those two lieutenants, you witnessed it all. But to release the wraiths, you will have to relive the memory."

------------------------

[1] - 24 Sun's Height, 4E202 - The letter -- Chorrol version: page 11, post #218 -- Full colour version

[2] - 12 First Seed, 4E195 - Flotsam -- Chorrol version: page 1, post #1 -- Full colour version

[3] - 28 First Seed, 4E202 - The Fade - Memories -- Chorrol version: page 4, post #63 -- Full colour version

[4] - 23 Sun's Dawn, 3E417 - Pale Pass Fortress -- Chorrol version: page 11, post #216 -- Full colour version

31 Last Seed - 1 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Wraith exorcism witcher style

"Geralt wants to exorcise the two wraiths here" - Lena told Hauk and Garrus when they were all sitting comfortably at dinner in the old Pale Pass Fortress. "So we'll need to wait for them to rise again - which won't take long - but it means that you two shouldn't be here" - she looked at them in turn.

"What about you?" - Garrus raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you leave too?"

"I am a part of the ritual" - Lena looked uneasy.

"Of course - those are the wraiths of the Commander's lieutenants that your mother had assassinated" - nodded Hauk. "They are here for you and Wolf."

"This sounds dangerous" - Garrus shuddered. "But I suppose you know what you're doing." He gave Geralt a long look. "Any chance I could stay and watch? I've never seen a witcher at work - especially at exorcism."

"Sorry, no" - Geralt shook his head. "I work alone."

Garrus sighed but didn't insist.

It was getting late in the day, and with the fortress now quiet, the four of them spent the night there, with Hauk and Garrus leaving in the morning. Lena and Geralt remained to exorcise the wraiths.


"How long do we have to wait for them to rise?" - Lena asked Geralt when they were alone.

"We don't have to wait, really" - he smiled. "We'll summon them. But first we must prepare. Since they died together, they will appear together, and fighting two wraiths should not be taken lightly, especially the ones seeking revenge against us personally." Geralt was setting out potion vials on the table. "These are for me - witcher potions" - he turned to Lena. "I've been experimenting with local flora, and I've come up with a few things. But they are lethal to non-witchers, as usual."

"Yeah, I know this smell!" - Lena uncorked one vial and sniffed it. "Deathbell, nightshade, wolfsbane and... ectoplasm?" - she looked up Geralt in disbelief. "And that's a potion?"

"For me - yes" - Geralt grinned. "This gives resistance to spectral damage - the chill, among other things, and wolfsbane prevents transformation. I drink it for protection, but you will have to drink it to start the ritual."

"But it will kill me!" - protested Lena. "All that deathbell and nightshade - I am not a witcher, remember?"

"I know - you will drink this first" - he pointed at another vial. Lena uncorked it and sniffed.

"Pure nightshade extract?" - she exclaimed. "Are you mad?!"

"I am not trying to kill you" - Geralt took her by the shoulders. "Remember the Court Wizard in Windhelm? Wuunferth the Unliving?" Lena nodded. "Do you know how old he is? And how he is managing to still stay alive?"

"No, but I expect you'll tell me" - Lena looked at Geralt suspiciously. "I do remember him needing a lot of nightshade extract."

"Nightshade extract blurs the boundary between life and death, facilitating the transition between the two. Thus it is a potent poison - if the person ingesting it remains in death. But it can equally resurrect someone who's already left life - hence its use in Necromancy. Or it can prevent someone dying by allowing them to make the transition back into life as soon as they are dead." Geralt stopped explaining, noticing Lena's confused and disbelieving look. "The best way to stay alive is simply to not die" - he smiled.

"You want me to go into the Fade" - Lena remembered when she went there to look for Hauk's spirit. "And this extract will put me there similar to Jowan's blood magic ritual. The only question is: how will I return?" She raised her eyes to Geralt's.

"There is no portal with this - not like with Jowan's ritual. You will have to come back to life before the nightshade extract wears off." Geralt met her gaze. "I won't be able to give you more - I'll be fighting the wraiths."

"All right" - Lena swallowed, steadying her shivers. "So I will actually die - like Hauk died. But Hauk returned, so I know it is possible. I will simply have to... what?.. refuse to die?"

"Exactly" - Geralt nodded. "Wuunferth does it every day."

...

Geralt tried to explain what Lena might face in the Fade once she took the nightshade extract, but Lena stopped him fairly quickly - there was no knowing what she might face exactly. The important question was how she were to summon the wraiths. But Geralt didn't have an answer to that - she would have to improvise. Find the wraiths, make them appear in Mundus and come back before the potion wears off. Simple.

"The spectre potion should help you find the wraiths in the Fade" - Geralt tried to reassure Lena. "In fact, they should be looking for you. Drink it immediately after the extract - before you fall into trance."

"Well, there's no time like the present." Lena drank both potions.

...

Lena was cold. She was floating in mid-air surrounded by frozen mist. The place was eerily quiet, even though she thought she could see movement in the distance - but may be it was just the wind curling the mist into swirls.

"Is this death?" - Lena wondered. She didn't feel dead - although of course she didn't know how that would feel.

"Ahhh, you are here!.." - a voice echoed all around her. "Finally!.."

"Where are you? Show yourself!" - Lena called, looking around. A frost spell hit her by way of an answer. The wraith. The frost would normally chill Lena to the bone and trigger her vampirism, and so she braced for the surge in her blood, but nothing happened. "Wolfsbane" - she thought. "Geralt's potion is working."

Another frost spell was coming in, and Lena was just able to see the direction where it came from before it hit her. She threw a fireball and saw a shape light up in the distance. The battle was on.

But battling the wraiths was not why she came to the Fade - and indeed she could not hope to win, for even if she defeated them, it would be most likely already too late for her to return to life. No, she had to compel these wraiths to rise in Mundus instead - and she had to do it quickly.

"What is your name?" - she asked the wraith, dodging a frost spell and moving towards it.

"My name?" - the wraith stopped throwing frost for a moment. "You don't even know my name?" Now it was enraged, shooting frost spears with renewed vigour. "Am I just a target to you as I was to your mother?"

"You weren't just a target to her, she was quite particular about your death, but your name was not in the papers" - Lena tried to speak calmly, while dodging the frost. "I wish to know the name of my father's traitor who ordered his execution by his own wife."

"They weren't married - that union would have never been blessed by Mara!" - the wraith protested, but stopped throwing frost for some reason.

"Leave Mara out of it!" - cried Lena, now facing the wraith. "Where is your partner?"

"We should finish this Wolf spawn while she stands before us!" - another voice came from behind. Lena stood between two wraiths, who suddenly resumed throwing frost at her.

"If you kill me now, my brother will make sure you'll never find peace!" - she exclaimed, desperately trying to think of something to say to them.

"Your brother? You have a brother? There is more Wolf spawn?!"

"He is in the Pale Pass Fortress, waiting for you in our father's quarters" - Lena saw her chance to get them to rise in Mundus.

This seemed to have worked. The wraiths faded and vanished, crying "Insolence!" and "You'll pay for this!", and perhaps even "Why won't you die?!", but Lena could not be sure about that one. With her task hopefully accomplished, she now needed to return to the mortal realm.

"Simply refuse to die" - she repeated Geralt's words to herself. They made so much sense at first, but now, floating in mid-air surrounded by frozen mist, they weren't helping her to find a way out.

Post 53: The part when she heals Jowan with aloe is a nice touch, which hints at your first choice of a profession, Lena.

Lithnilian claims he guessed Lena's sign correctly, ha. Hmm, isn't that the mage who resides within Imperial Bridge Inn? Yep, sure is. He's the guy who rambles on and on ... something like "Ten years of research down the drain!"

Wow, his rant against Traven is spot on. I love how NPCs in Oblivion have rich little moments of dialog like this, how some are just commoners who have nothing much to say, while others really are ingrained within controversial stretches of society. I only mention this because those of us who love Oblivion used to sometimes get slammed by those who preferred earlier games. "Oblivion is shallow, all the NPCs have nothing to say but mindless banter about mudcrabs and goblins..." Which is BS. I mean, I don't know if Lithnilian actually says all the things in this chapter but I can certainly hear him doing so. Plenty other people in this game certainly do.

Whoa, Jowan has quite a tale to tell himself. Indeed, the stars don't have many answers about love and life, yet supposedly they are what created all of us.

Magic can only heal you so much. The real healing is done by your body.


Jowan is from Dragon Age Origins, and it is his story the way I played it - with the choices that I made. He screwed up so badly, there was nothing left to do but to board a ship and sail to Tamriel.

1 Hearthfire, 4E202 - The Void - Wraiths

"Goodness, look at you - you're frozen!" - Lena's grandmother put her arm around Lena leading her towards a fire. They were no longer floating in mid-air, they were in the Niben Valley where Lena grew up, walking towards their cottage. "Come - you need to warm up." The Niben could be cold in winter, and Lena would often be shaking by the time she'd had enough of swimming.

"Thanks, gran" - she smiled at her grandmother, embracing her. But... wait... something wasn't right. Lena's adoptive grandmother had been dead for two hundred years. Would her spirit really want to keep Lena in the Fade? "No, I won't come with you!" - Lena exclaimed, pulling away. "You are not my grandmother!" And without waiting for the demon to transform into its more powerful form, Lena broke free and dived into the frozen mist.

"I want to return to the mortal realm" - she said into the mist. "I refuse to stay here. I refuse to die - it isn't my time!"

...

"You cannot judge whether it is your time or not" - a strong but distant voice answered. "I may take you any moment."

Darkness penetrated the mist, brilliant darkness shining with ever changing tones of black. "A black light" - Lena thought, marvelling at the phenomenon. "Luminescent darkness. The Void." Which meant that the voice belonged to Sithis.

"I accept that you will claim me one day, but I have unfinished business in Mundus, including business in your name" - she said into the void. "Lucien will be waiting."

"Lucien..." - the voice seemed to search for the meaning of this name. "Oh - Lucien Lachance. His time has not come yet. Forgive me, but he is but one assassin... he holds no power over me."

The voice seemed to grow bored and trailed off, but the darkness around Lena didn't dissolve, it was holding her in The Void. She felt it thicken somehow, and was wondering whether the nightshade extract was wearing off. In the mortal world invoking Lucien's name brought most situations to a swift conclusion, but Sithis wasn't impressed - and why on Nirn did she think he would be? What was one assassin - no matter how brilliant - to an Old God?

And yet, mortals, or their souls, did matter - otherwise why would Sithis engage her in conversation?

"You ask deep questions, mortal" - she heard the voice again. "Yes, mortal souls matter, daedric souls matter, aerdic souls matter - for they all come from me through Anuiel and then Lorkhan - the path of Creation is long and convoluted. I am Chaos and Change, and you claim not to serve me. Yet you take lives in my name, then pray to Arkay for their souls - and who is Arkay if not my descendent? And soon you will bring another life into this world - and in whose name will that be? Look at you - Chaos and Change is all there is."

"What happens to the souls that I release in your name?" - Lena had to know.

"They come to The Void."

"But I pray to Arkay for them..!"

"And what do you think that means?" - the voice sounded amused. "Arkay's rites protect the bodies and souls of those mortals from Necromancy - from simple Necromancy, I might add, as performed by most mortals. It is a simple enchantment placed upon the body, for as long as at least some of it remains intact. The soul comes to The Void though - for where else would it go?"

"And there... you devour it" - Lena said mostly to herself.

"I what now?" - the voice laughed. "It is amusing to hear you say it. I do not feed on souls - I do not feed at all."

"But then... what is the difference? If all souls end up in The Void, in whoever name they are taken..."

"There is no difference" - the voice seemed to enjoy the conversation. "Daedric souls spend time here too, but they get new bodies to inhabit, while mortal souls do not. The only way to return a mortal soul to Nirn is through Necromancy - something that Arkay's rites seek to prevent."

"Do mortal souls persist forever?" - Lena was getting consumed by this discourse, but wasn't there something she needed to be doing quite urgently? She could not remember.

"No, they are mortal. They fade after a time - a very long time, but eventually they dissolve into The Void from whence they came."

So... then she was home. If The Void was where all mortal souls eventually went, then she had arrived already. But wait... something wasn't right about that... or was it? No, she must be imagining things...

Lena started to relax, letting go of that nagging feeling that she had forgotten something important. What could it possibly be? She didn't want anything, she didn't need anything, The Void had embraced her completely.

"Ouch!" - a sharp pain in her liver woke her up from her reverie. What was that?! "Ouch!" - there it was again. The pangs of pain were coming from inside her, as if something or someone was kicking her liver... "Ouch!" That last kick brought a flood of memories with it - her life, her friends, her baby kicking inside her belly - all of it in Mundus where she had to return to. Urgently. Now.

"I am going" - she said into the void around her. "It is not my time yet. My life is not yet finished - I have people waiting for me and I carry this new life in my belly. You cannot have me yet, Sithis."

"Ahhh..." - she heard a sigh in the distance. "There aren't many who can resist the pull of the Black City." The darkness around Lena turned into a whirlpool. "I shall wait for you, Dragonborn."

...

Lena opened her eyes and saw a dimly lit fort chamber around her, she was lying comfortably on a bed, someone had covered her in warm blankets, a fire was burning in an urn... A heavy wooden door was closed, but through it Lena could just about make out sounds of battle - clashing of steel, pops and bangs of destruction spells, shrieks of... wraiths? Wraiths! Geralt was fighting the two wraiths that she had summoned. Now she remembered.

"You filth!" - Geralt was muttering swinging his Blue Meteorite Silver sword from one wraith to the other. "You will depart this world!" It wasn't just a matter of defeating them - it had to be done in the right way, otherwise the wraiths would rise again.

"Can I help?" - Lena put her head through the door. She didn't want to spoil the ritual.

"Take the Viper Silver sword in the bedroom and join the dance!" - Geralt shouted without looking. "These two mean business!"

Lena looked around the room and spotted a silver claymore with a serpent etched on the blade. She lifted it - it was like a regular silver claymore, except of course a witcher would wield it with one hand... The Viper was a light and fast weapon - by witcher standards - Geralt called it his silver dagger. His usual silver sword - the Blue Meteorite master sword - was longer and heavier, a superior weapon if you could handle it, and he was now swinging it from one wraith to the other, Lena reminded herself. She grabbed the Viper sword with both hands and joined the battle.

"Ahhh - the younger Wolf spawn returns!" - screeched one of the wraiths throwing frost at Lena as she emerged from the bedroom. Lena dodged the spell just in time, but was unable to respond with fire - she was no battlemage and couldn't cast spells while holding a claymore, she had to hold it with both hands, or it would just drop to the ground. So instead she swung it at the wraith, not expecting to inflict much damage but hoping to distract it enough to give Geralt room to manoeuvre. The wraith gave a screech of pain and reeled back from the sword.

"What on Nirn..?" - Lena looked at the sword in amazement. "Oh - you don't like a witcher's sword, do you?!" It wasn't just a silver claymore.

"Your technique needs work" - Geralt grinned in between the swings of his own. "And your footwork is all over the place! Who trained you?"

"No one!" - Lena shouted, dodging another frost spell. "I had to learn as I went along!"

"That shows" - Geralt did a pirouette elegantly landing right next to her. "You're using that sword as if you're chopping wood. It's not an axe!"

"Save the lesson for a straw dummy - they don't fight back!" - Lena didn't approve of her brother's timing with tutoring. "These two are trying to kill us!"

"They won't kill us" - Geralt patted Lena on the shoulder, momentarily including her into his shield bubble. "Not now that you're here. Inadequate footwork or not - they still stand no chance against the two of us. Watch this!" He stopped his attack, allowing the wraith to hit the shield bubble several times before the bubble burst, pushing the wraiths into the far corners of the room.

"I feel better" - Lena said with amazement.

"That shield restores you with every hit it takes" - Geralt smiled at her. "And pushes away the enemies when it bursts, giving you a moment to explain its workings to your little sister - or to cast a new shield" - he winked at her. "What now, you filth?!" - he lunged towards the wraith, stung by its frost spell.

Lena watched, thinking that neglecting proper instruction might have been a mistake on her part. "He got it, even from that distance" - she marvelled at Geralt's moves. But she wasn't a spectator in this battle - a hit from the other wraith reminded her of that. "All right, here comes my inadequate footwork - watch out!" - she swung the sword wildly at the wraith making it screech with pain again. The dance continued.

...

"Depart this world never to return - I compel you!" - Geralt thrust his sword into the wraith for the last time as its essence shot upwards, disappearing through the ceiling. One down.

The remaining wraith switched its attention from Lena to Geralt, making Lena suddenly realise that this wasn't a friendly dance. These wraiths carried swords, and Geralt was bleeding from several wounds, yet his reflexes weren't slowed - he literally ignored the pain. "But he can still bleed to death while ignoring it" - Lena thought, shooting some healing spells at him, to no effect. Whatever potion he had ingested before the fight, was blocking common healing. She lunged at the wraith making it turn around. "Cast your shield! You are bleeding out!" - she shouted at Geralt, who seemed to only now notice a puddle of blood he was standing in.

"Bloody nuisance!" - he cursed, reaching for a potion on his belt. "That cannot be healed by the shield" - he swallowed the contents of the vial, grimaced, cursed again, and turned green - or so Lena thought. His veins bulged, covering his face in a strange blue-purple pattern, his skin getting ashen pale underneath. "I hate this stuff!" - he muttered, throwing the empty vial aside and resuming his attack on the wraith.

"You look awful" - Lena commented. "But your bleeding has stopped."

"Ekimmara decoction" - he shot her a glance, parrying the wraith's attack. "Restores your health with each..." - lunge - "successful..." - lunge - "hit" - lunge and twirl. The wraith screeched and backed off. "Depart this world, you filth!" - bellowed Geralt, attacking the wraith with renewed ferocity.

...

Finally the battle was over. Geralt walked over to the firepit in the kitchen and dropped to his knees.

"Leave me to meditate" - he looked at Lena. "This will take a while." He looked exhausted, the potions and decoctions that he had drank, had poisoned him as well as protected him, but he wasn't in danger of dying - Lena's experience with healing witchers during her stay in the Northern Realms had taught her that. He would recover, all he needed now was rest - the witcher way. Lena added some logs to the fire and left Geralt to his meditation, then crawled into the bed for some rest of her own.

A really exciting tale. To go from sticking your thumb in death's eye, to waking up caught in the middle of a battle with wraiths had me on the edge of my seat.

Thanks, Macole! Caution isn't Lena's strong suit... So why not poke Sithis in the eye?

1 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Election of the Council of Mages

Raminus Polus wrote to all the Wizards in the Mages Guild inviting them to the Arcane University to elect a new Council and a new Arch Mage and to discuss the future of the Mages Guild and its direction. The Council chamber wasn't big enough for such a gathering, so they used the lobby instead. All of the chapter heads were present but most of the university wizards declined to join the meeting, saying that they would abide by whatever new rules the re-instated Council would agree on.

The discussions started with Necromancy, continued with Necromancy and ended with Necromancy, also touching on Illusion and Conjuration a little. The one thing that all the mages agreed on, was restoration of the school of Necromancy - whether or not the Mages Guild would practice it within its ranks. Various spells could then be re-assigned to the actual schools where they originated, and that included spells forbidden by other laws, such as the Levitation Act - just because a spell was forbidden, it did not seize to exist. With this definition, much of the old pre-Traven order could be restored, with all spells that tap into the life energies or deal with the undead to be assigned to the school of Necromancy.

"Except of course where they are beneficial to the living, because that's Restoration" - interjected Carahil.

"Like Absorb Health, perhaps?" - Caranya raised an eyebrow. "That's hardly beneficial to the victim."

"But it is even being taught by the chapel priests! It's beneficial!" - Carahil retorted hotly. "As well as Turn Undead!"

"There's a Necromancy spell if I ever saw one!" - Bothiel suddenly joined the discussion. As a curator of the Orrery, she didn't affiliate herself with any one school of magic. "How is it Restoration?"

"It separates the Living from the Undead" - Carahil looked at her with disdain. "I would have thought it was obvious."

"Life and death are one and the same" - Caranya defended her. "You cannot know one without knowing the other. Hannibal Traven knew that, which is why he switched to Restoration after he denounced his affiliation with Necromancy. And you know it too, Carahil." Caranya fixed her with a steady gaze. "You studied and worked with Traven long enough to have figured him out. Don't deny it now. He re-assigned Necromancy spells to other schools in order to be keep using them, but it backfired. You either accept they are Necromancy and include the school, or you exclude the school and give up the spells. You cannot have it both ways."

"Yes, I know, and we all agree with that" - Carahil returned Caranya's gaze. "Are you saying that I am trying to keep some spells under Restoration for the sake of keeping them?" - she sighed and sat down. "Yes, you are probably right. We should give up all of them."

Several people turned to look at Carahil. She was going to vote against Necromancy.

Lunch time was rapidly approaching, which prompted the gathering to finalise their list of spells brought under Necromancy. It included Reanimate and Summon Skeleton, Zombie, Wraith and Lich from Conjuration; Detect Life, Soul Trap and Spell Absorption from Mysticism; and Turn Undead and Absorb Life Energy - health, magicka, fatigue, skills and attributes - from Restoration. Turn Undead was a bit of a contested point - the spell had recently been moved from Conjuration to Restoration, but many felt that it would have been better placed with Illusion because it resembled Demoralise spell. But since it was going to be moved to Necromancy anyway, that argument was closed before it even begun.

The mages also agreed that Conjuration should include research into long term binding and that Mysticism be allowed to resume their research into Levitation, Teleportation and Telepathy, regardless of political constraints. They were putting forward a vision for an ideal world.

"The Psijic order are proficient in it" - Tar-Meena from the Mystic Archives pointed out to everyone's surprise. "And we have tomes and tomes on its theory and practice - it's time someone actually read them. Because when - and I mean when, not if - when the Psijic Order makes contact with one of us, we should be able to at least recognise it for what it is and not think we are dreaming!"

"Yes, this will happen soon" - Dagail said in a surprisingly clear voice. "I have seen this. Soon, if not already."

And with that, a kitchen aid came in to announce that lunch had been served in the dining hall, and everyone got up, eager to take care of the most important event of the day.

...

"Settle down, settle down!" - Raminus Polus called the gathering to order, waking up several mages who were snoozing after an opulent lunch. "We now have to elect the new Council, or perhaps should we vote on the use of Necromancy first?" - he looked around. "To ensure that we have like-minded people, and such." Raminus was eager to avoid the dissolution of the new Council on its very first day.

"Vote first!" - several people cried. After all, every Wizard who was willing to meddle in Mages Guild politics, was in that room. A show of hands followed.

"Necromancy is out" - said Raminus, having tallied the count. "By a large margin, too."

"I propose we vote on the other subjects too" - Irlav Jarol rose from his seat. "I imagine many of us will want to know whether their research will be welcome in the new Mages Guild." He looked at Raminus with significance. "Such as long term binding in Conjuration or Telepathy in Mysticism."

Noises of approval followed, and Raminus called a show of hands on each of the contested subjects.

"Sorry, Irlav, no long term binding studies, and sorry Dagail - no research on topics banned by the politicians" - he looked apologetic, realising that this was going to cost the Mages Guild its members. "And... sorry, Kud-Ei - but mind control spells are out too, upholding late Arch Mage's ban."

The assembly appeared to be intolerant to each other's research interests, opting for a very conservative approach for the Mages Guild instead.

"What do you propose to do with the Archives that house the tomes on all those forbidden subjects?" - asked Tar-Meena, her eyes narrowing.

"We must keep the Archives!" - several mages exclaimed from their seats. "Never destroy the books!"

"There is your answer" - smiled Raminus.

Tar-Meena nodded and folded her arms defiantly, but didn't say anything. Everyone knew she would not keep the Archives locked... and everyone felt that the Mages Guild was about to be split up.

"Are we ready to elect a new Council now?" - Raminus looked around him. There was no hostility among the mages, but most faces closed. "Please bring forward your candidacies."

"Well, don't look at me!" - Jeanne Frasoric said brightly as if she expected to be elected. "I'm with Necromancy, remember? We are out."

"The Leyawiin chapter will leave the Mages Guild" - Dagail looked around. "There does not seem to be room for true Mystics within your ranks any longer." Several people nodded - this wasn't surprising. The previous voting had stripped the school of Mysticism of most of its spells.

"Illusion is not complete without 'mind control' spells as you call them" - Kud-Ei said softly, but without hesitation. "I refuse to close half of our research. We won't stand with you."

"If that's what the Bravil chapter wants, then there won't be a Mages Guild hall in Bravil - and it won't be much of a loss" - Teekeeus glared at Kud-Ei. "You've always been too soft with your mages, Kud-Ei. Don't think we don't know about Henantier!" - he snorted. "The Chorrol chapter stays with the Mages Guild and we will not allow any research into long term binding!"

"Are you sure that all of your mages are behind you on this, Teekeeus?" - Irlav Jarol challenged him. "I know for a fact that Athragar has been working on long term binding. And what have you done with the book on the Finger of the Mountain? Stashed it in your private chest, no doubt?"

"You've got that book?" - Tar-Meena glared at Teekeeus. "And you didn't say anything? It belongs here in the Archives!"

"I... well..." - Teekeeus didn't expect that turn of events. "I had to keep it safe from Earana!"

"Earana at least could read it, and you cannot!" - Tar-Meena retorted. This caused a bit of a commotion in the assembly, with several people talking at once.

"I wonder if dishonesty can be tolerated among the heads of Mages Guild chapters" - Deetsan stood up, addressing everyone. "May I remind you of the events at our Hall when the previous head Falkar actually murdered an associate and attempted to murder another?" She too glared at Teekeeus. "I am not suggesting that Teekeeus would go as far as that, but concealing a rare and powerful artefact like the book on the Finger of the Mountain should not go unpunished!"

That met a round of applause and some noises of approval.

"Teekeeus no longer speaks for the Chorrol chapter" - announced Raminus Polus. "They will need to elect another leader, unless someone here would like to take it over?" - he looked at the mages before him.

"I would be honoured" - Irlav Jarol stood up. "Conjuration is my area of expertise, after all."

"True" - Raminus inclined his head. "But considering that this assembly just voted to ban research into long term binding, you would also immediately take the Chorrol chapter out of the Mages Guild." Raminus looked sad. "What's left of it."

"Yes, I would" - Irlav looked sad, too. "But do you have a choice?"

This was a difficult question and was put to the vote - a vote by the assembly of mages in the process of breaking up its own Guild. The vote put Irlav at the head of the Chorrol chapter, with all the consequences of that.

"Well... Is any of you still staying with the Mages Guild?" - Raminus looked dejected. "Mages Guild with a lot of prohibitions, as voted by this assembly."

Everyone started talking at once. Some argued that the rules should be softened so that all the chapters could remain within the Guild; others were pointing out that it would only lead to conflicts as there would be many mages opposing one another; yet others were advocating exemptions for the Arcane University so that forbidden research could still be carried out there... People wanted the safety of the rules with the freedoms of the lack of rules, and it wasn't possible - not even by magic.

After much criss-cross discussion, they decided to form two separate factions - one with strict rules that were voted for previously, and the other that allowed more freedoms. The teaching at the Arcane University would be undertaken by the conservative faction, but all research facilities would be open to both. If there ever was a compromise, this was it.

The conservative faction would not have an Arch Mage, but instead it would be ruled by its Council comprising the heads of its chapters and one or two prominent scholars from the University. It wasn't a large faction, with only the Anvil, Cheydinhal and Skingrad chapters joining it. Because it decided against electing a head, it called itself The Synod.

"Well, they seem pleased with themselves" - Caranya said to Dagail in a low voice. "Of course, those are the least controversial schools of magic - it will be easy for them to follow the rules."

"They didn't have half of their research banned" - added Kud-Ei softly. "We couldn't just throw out half of our spells!"

"And they didn't get either Conjuration or Necromancy" - Irlav joined them, equally quietly. "We can combine our efforts again."

Bothiel was standing with Raminus Polus on the other end of the room, watching the mages talk in groups that they've just formed.

"Will you keep the name of the Mages Guild?" - she looked at him with some sadness. "They are not enemies, these mages, the war is over. We now have The Arcane University, The Synod, and this... College of Whispers" - she pointed at the group of "quitters" talking quietly between themselves.

"What a brilliant idea!" - Jeanne Frasoric suddenly turned to her. "This is what we should be called!" - she beamed at everyone around. Like it or not, the name was going to stick.

Dang, a fiesty, finger-pointing Mages Guild meeting. Exactly what I imagine would happen when Arch-Mage Jandaga announces his retirement to devote his time to the Archeology Guild and adventuring.

Thanks, Macole! That's based on real life, I assure you.

-------------------------

2 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Siblings

Lena woke up in the Commander's quarters in the old Pale Pass Fortress after a long and restful sleep. Her trip to the Fade and subsequent wraith exorcism with Geralt left her thoroughly exhausted. She stirred in the bed and listened for any sounds from the other rooms, but all was quiet. Geralt must still be meditating. Lena got up and walked over to the kitchen where she had left him by the fire the night before.

He was still kneeling in front of the fireplace, his eyes closed. The poisoning caused by his potions and decoctions had all but cleared, and his skin looked almost normal again. Now he just looked tired. "So much for witcher meditation being restful" - thought Lena. "It doesn't replace sleeping in a bed." She added a fresh log to the embers and cast a fireball at it as quietly as she could, but Geralt's eyes opened, regardless. "I'm just rekindling the fire" - she said in a hushed voice, not sure whether her brother was still meditating. His eyes closed again, so he must have been.

Sitting there in the kitchen pecking at some stale bread and overripe cheese, Lena absent-mindedly glanced over the vials of witcher potions set out on the table - many empty - and Geralt's satchel propped open with more vials inside. Vials and an old map - a map of the Northern Realms.


It was a piece of a larger and undoubtedly fancifully decorated map, but Geralt was only interested in the geography, not the fancies - at least not of that kind. It was a war map, and Geralt had made some annotations of his own. Lena folded the map to focus on the annotations.


Gors Velen and Flotsam in Temeria and Kaer Morhen all the way in Northern Kaedwen. Kaer Morhen - the seat of the Wolf Witcher school, Geralt's home. He even traced the fortress icon in ink - he missed it, Lena thought. She had never been to Kaer Morhen herself, having spent her time in Northern Temeria - from Flotsam to Velen, following the war, following Geralt, trying not to make him feel like he's being shadowed by his little sister mother hen. Coming to Skyrim meant leaving his home behind, and it must have been hard, in particular now that the old fortress of Kaer Morhen lay all but in pieces. They were no longer training new witchers, the old halls already felt empty without the young voices, but there were still enough of the old witchers around for drunken adventures during the long nights of the winter months... Would the fortress rise again? Would the Wolf school rise again? It all seemed very problematic. Perhaps if Geralt had not left... But he had. Was there ever a way back?

"What are you doing with that map?" - Geralt's voice brought Lena back to the reality of the Pale Pass Fortress. He looked almost refreshed after his meditation, the toxins now completely flushed from his blood.

"Reminiscing..." - Lena raised her eyes to him. "The same as what you are doing carrying it around with you, I expect" - she smiled. "You miss it" - she pointed at Kaer Morhen. "That I understand. But why Flotsam and Velen? There was nothing there but death and misery."

"You were there, for one" - he smoothed out the map. "I learned I had a sister, it was a big thing. And Velen - you followed me there, you know what took place." He smiled at her and winked. "Or did you think I never noticed? Waking up with bandages all over could only mean one thing - you put them on."

"It could have been Keira Metz!" - Lena protested, hinting at Geralt's fling with Keira, or may be rather her fling with him, but at any rate Keira was a good friend who would have bandaged Geralt without hesitation, especially if it involved removing his clothes first.

Geralt laughed but didn't argue. "Where do we go from here?" - he asked eyeing stale bread and runny cheese with suspicion. "I've just cleared poisons from my body, I'm not eating that."

"There's an old inn just on the other side of the mountains" - Lena rummaged in her bag producing an apple for him instead. "It's abandoned, but I stocked it up last time I was there - it's not far from Bruma. Roach likes it - it's got stables and hay. And a bath house."

"Roach has got good taste - yours and mine both!" - Geralt gave her a broad grin, devouring the apple. His horse was also called Roach - in fact, it was his habit to call every horse he owned Roach. Lena was now doing the same, and she couldn't explain why.

"All right, then we should not tarry. What do you want to do with that?" - she pointed at the scroll with their father's letter that they had found here.

"I'll take it" - Geralt stashed it in his bag. "We might need it in Falkreath."

"Falkreath?"

"That's where you wanted to go, wasn't it?"

Yes, this is where Lena wanted to go to search the Legion Archives for any records about their father. It all seemed so far away and so long ago after her trip to the Fade... It must have been reflected in her face, because Geralt looked at her and frowned.

"You need to put that trip to the Fade behind you, don't let it eat at you like that" - he looked concerned. "You are back, you are here, and I am sorry for having put you through it - it was too much, I think. I should have gone myself."

"Yourself?" - Lena jerked back to reality. "And fought the wraiths there? Out of the question." She glared at him for making such a preposterous proposition. A contest of sibling rivalry - or sibling over-protection - was in full swing. Geralt was about to make a suitable retort, but then changed his mind.

"Well, it's good to see you are really back" - he grinned. "Come - I want to explore that bath house!"

...

It was late afternoon when they finally made their descent on the Southern side of the Jeralls and saw the roofs of the old Pale Pass Inn in the valley below. Lena's Roach knew about the hay in the stables and picked up the pace, and Geralt's Roach followed suit sensing good things ahead. The inn looked untouched since the last time Lena stayed there, for it was completely out of the way of everything, and no one had any reason to go there. Geralt wasted no time chopping the wood for the bath house - he was serious about his baths.

"This looks like a proper Nordic bath house" - he remarked with satisfaction. "Bring the mead - you need a soak too."

"When was the last time we sat by the pool like this?" - Lena asked, descending into the water. "You know you're supposed to sit by the pool and not in it?" - she grinned at her brother.

"The Nords don't know what they are missing" - he stretched, returning her grin. "As for the last time... And you wonder why I marked Velen on my map?"

The night was young and memories were filling the room.

21 Second Seed, 4E195 - Velen - Fyke Isle - Oreton

"Geralt! Just when I started to miss you" - Keira Metz greeted Geralt on the doorstep of her cottage just outside of Midcopse, Velen. "I have a favour to ask of you."

"Of course you do" - grinned Geralt. "Let's hear it."


"Bed bugs..." - Keira was lost in thought.

"Excuse me?"

"Bed bugs!" - she spun around to face him. "Keira Metz has bed bugs! Keira Metz, adviser to King Foltest, member of the Lodge of Sorceresses, Keira Metz has bed bugs!!" She looked at Geralt in desperation. "This place is killing me! I've got to get out of here!"

"So why are you here in the first place?" - Geralt raised an eyebrow. Velen was as opposite to the luxury of a Royal Court as one could imagine. Nothing but swamps, now largely filled with corpses left by the war.

"Hiding! I am hiding, of course!" - Keira exclaimed as if it was self-evident. "King Radovitz of Redonia is the last standing king of the Northern Realms - and he ordered all mages to be burned at the stake! That's enough to drive anyone into the swamps of Velen."

Keira looked dejected. A proud and wilful woman, she seemed to have been driven to despair by the filth and bed bugs of a rural hut she was now forced to inhabit. Like all sorceresses, she looked much younger than she was, and although she was younger than Geralt, it wasn't by much. Keira was a passionate woman, and one of the few sorceresses who believed that her ability to bear children had not been destroyed by her vocation, which in turn made her favour witchers for her romantic pursuits, for witchers were sterile. Geralt fell victim to her charms more than once - and never regretted it. Keira wasn't Triss - she was not likely to tease Yennefer about it, and Yennefer wasn't jealous of Keira - why not, Geralt wondered. May be because Keira was only after a bit of fun?..

It didn't look like she was after a bit of fun this time though, she might have joked about the bed bugs (or had she?), but she had her mind set on a serious endeavour - one that required a witcher. She needed Geralt to clear out a tower that had belonged to a local baron, a tower now infested with ghosts and wraiths that were terrorising the land around it - or so the locals believed.

"Do it for me, please" - she looked at him with her most innocent of expressions. "The locals think it's something I could undertake, but it isn't a job for a witch - it's a job for a witcher."

"All right, I'll look into it" - Geralt nodded. "Only, what is it that you're not telling me?"

"I... well..." - Keira could see that Geralt wasn't fooled. "There was a mage living in that tower as well, he was doing some interesting research..."

"Which was the reason the mob killed them all, right?" - Geralt had seen it before.

"It might have been, or it might have contributed to it, but anyhow... There was a plague outbreak then, and he was trying to understand it."

"Right... And you want his notes" - Geralt guessed.

"No!" - Keira looked outraged. "Well... yes. May be. But I need to look around there first, and I can't do it with all the ghosts and wraiths haunting the place!"


...

Fyke Isle barely rose above the level of the surrounding lake, making it into a particularly wet swamp. It had an ancient stone amphitheatre where the local druid conducted seasonal rituals, and a walled tower that used to belong to the baron. "What a desolate place for the Lord of the Land to live in" - thought Geralt, drudging his boots through the mud. "Best get to higher ground as soon as possible - fighting drowners in the water is never a good idea." It wasn't - drowners were quick and agile in wet conditions, reanimated corpses of people who drowned, they were at home in water, and although a single drowner was hardly a challenge to a witcher, a group of them presented a significantly greater threat. Add to that water hags and even a lechen, and Geralt was bleeding out even before he had reached the tower. He found an abandoned hut just outside a tall log wall surrounding the baron's estate, and decided to stay there for the night to allow his wounds to heal. He rekindled the fire in the grate, dropped to his knees and started to meditate.

...

"I told you - he's in there" - an unkempt individual in ripped Redonian armour whispered to his equally unkempt companion wearing bits of armour of several armies. "He's asleep - we grab his swords and run before he wakes up!"

"Those swords are worth a pretty penny" - chuckled the second individual. "But I want his armour too - these rags can't even keep the rats out."

"All right, but only if you're quick! I don't want to fight a witcher even if he's naked!"

They exchanged nods and glances and crept silently towards the hut. Approaching the doorway and looking in, they stifled a sigh and a curse, taking a few steps back to discuss a new strategy.

"He is not naked, and his swords are still on his back" - the first individual summed up the situation, embellishing it with a generous helping of swearing. "What do we do now?"

"What else is there to do?" - the second one looked grim, picking up a heavy rock. "We'll have to take it off him, won't we? And without fighting."

...

"I c-can pay for my d-drink!" - the noise from the table next to Lena's made her turn around. The inn in Oreton was getting loud, and the innkeep was refusing to serve any more drinks to some of the patrons. "I h-hic... have this f-fancy sword to sell, see?" - the fellow waved a long sword before the innkeep who was still refusing to serve him drinks.

"Oh that's one nice sword!" - Lena put on her friendliest smile. "I bet you are proper invincible with that!"

"Ay, that I am, miss-sh..." - the drunkard turned to her, swaying somewhat. "Best swordsman of the land, I am" - he pounded his chest proudly.

"Hey, no, you're not!" - his equally drunk companion interjected. "You can't even l-lift this other one!" He lifted the second sword, thankfully still in its scabbard. The effort made him sway dangerously on his stool.

"W-what good is a sword that you can't lift?" - remarked the first fellow, and Lena had to admire his logic. "W-what good is any sword without a drink?!" That was a good point, seconded by the rest of the inn - everyone was now watching the boast with great interest.

"Why don't you two show us your skill?" - a quiet voice suggested from the back corner of the room. "I'm sure the innkeep would serve you drinks then."

"Out! Out you go! Both of you! Anyone wanting to fight - out!!" - the innkeep wasn't about to risk her livelihood to a pair of drunken fools. Lena followed them to the yard, noticing familiar armour pieces distributed between them.

"That gear is not theirs" - the quiet voice from the corner said in her ear. "But you know whose it is and you want it."

She turned around. The man was unremarkable, not a farmer, perhaps a trader, a travelling merchant - she'd never met him before, but something about his face was familiar. The eyes... yes... something odd about the eyes.

"Is it that obvious?" - she smiled at him. "Yes, I want that gear."

"Then let me help you get it" - he smiled back, and before Lena could stop him, he walked over to the two drunkards, shook them awake, set them facing each other and cast a spell - barely perceptible, but Lena noticed. The drunkards unsheathed the swords they were holding and started swinging them wildly at each other... and soon they both lay dead.

"So much for the skill" - the crowd watching the fight was dispersing with yawns of boredom. Someone tried to pick the gear off the bodies, but the quiet man from the corner cast another equally imperceptible spell, and the people just walked away. He picked up the swords and pulled Geralt's armour off the bodies, taking it to Lena.

"Here you go, miss" - he handed it to her with a smile.

"Thank you" - Lena took the gear, trying not to look too mistrustful. "Why did you do it?"

"Is that what you want to know?" - the stranger lifted an eyebrow. "Not who I am, not what I am doing here - but why I helped you just now?"

"I know who you are, we've met before" - Lena looked at him darkly. "Of course I cannot refuse you now - what do you want of me this time?"

"Nothing" - the man smiled slyly. "Nothing at present. I'll be in touch." He turned to leave, then looked at her again. "He's on Fyke Isle" - he pointed South. "Bring bandages."

2 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Pale Pass Inn

"And so when I woke up stark naked in that hut, all covered in bandages - I knew it was you" - Geralt looked at Lena with significance.

"It could have been Keira Metz" - Lena shrugged. "It was she who sent you to Fyke Isle in the first place."

"True" - Geralt conceded, a twinkle in his eye. "But if it had been Keira, I would have found my loincloth flung into the furthest corner of the hut, not hung neatly by the fire freshly laundered. Although I am flattered that you did not pass up the opportunity to see what's underneath. It did not require bandaging."

"I had to be thorough!" - Lena sent a splash his way. The pool of the Nordic bath house at the old Pale Pass Inn was steaming around them.

"But I heard of the incident in Oreton" - Geralt remarked, the smile gone from his face. "You should be careful with the Merchant of Mirrors. His help is never free."

"I know and I didn't ask for it - he intervened before I could remember who he was" - Lena looked back at Geralt. "I see you too have had the pleasure of his assistance?"

"On more than one occasion" - Geralt grimaced, rubbing the side of his face, it felt like burning. "Where had you met him before?"

"Here in Cyrodiil, but that's a memory for another time. You still didn't get to the bit of us sitting in bath house like this - you only got to the hut in a swamp."

"All right" - Geralt laughed. "So then, looking around the hut, I saw my armour folded neatly and the swords laid out as if on parade. I know I didn't do it - and Keira didn't do it either. I felt a bump on the back of my head, and figured out what must have happened. And yes - before you say anything - I did make a mental note to lock the door next time before meditation and not rely on me waking up in time..."

"Which mental note promptly got lost, considering the number of times I found you in an unlocked hut later" - Lena pointed out.

"May be" - Geralt grinned. "Or may be I didn't want to make it too difficult for you to enter" - he winked, sending a splash towards Lena. "And anyway, we're out of mead."

That was a serious situation, and Lena had to twist and stretch to get more bottles from behind her. With the drinks renewed, reminiscing continued.

It is fun how you are including numerous games into Lena's story. That certainly adds an unlimited scale to where she can go and what she can do!

Thank you, Acadian! But those are just some episodes, some memories, the main story is still in Cyrodiil. But of course now that Geralt is here, we need to know about his past a little.

The truth is that the other games that I draw in, do not give me such freedom for storytelling as Elder Scrolls - they are much more story-oriented, and as enjoyable as it was to play them two, three, even half a dozen times, once you've gone through the possible combinations of scenarios that you cared to explore, the game was truly exhausted. So in order not to allow Geralt to get "archived" in the Witcher, I had to bring him over to Tamriel where he can tell stories of his past exploits to his little sister, with whatever embellishments he chooses. See if she can spot what's real and what's there on artistic license.

22 Second Seed, 4E195 - Fyke Isle tower

"This tower is filled with wraiths" - thought Geralt, having fought off half a dozen of them in the entrance hall. "The baron, his family and his servants were slaughtered here by the angry mob - so we've got their wraiths and the wraiths of the dead intruders, too. But there is more - a more powerful spirit is presiding over this place."


Geralt looked around. Overturned furniture, dried blood, rotting corpses - a usual scene of a massacre presented itself. Was the house ransacked for valuables by the surviving attackers? May be, a little, but most of all it's the food cupboards that had been turned inside out. A trail of discoloured blood stains led to the basement.

The basement offered more of the same. "All of the remaining food is gone" - thought Geralt, checking empty shelves and barrels. "But what the..?" - he cursed, feeling a bite on his leg. Rats. Dozens and dozens of them.

...

"A fire spray is the best weapon when you are surrounded by small vermin" - the voice of his mentor echoed in his memory once the basement floor was covered in charred rats.

"But witchers aren't supposed to fight small vermin, Master!" - he heard himself reply. He was just a boy then, feeling more excited to learn swordplay than magic.

"A witcher must be able to fight anything. You won't get very far trying to hit a rat with your greatsword."

It seemed so long ago. Their home fortress, Kaer Morhen, filled with the mischief of young boys who thought they could conceal their misadventures from their masters. "Of course we knew what you were doing" - Vesemir told him years later. "But we let you have a bit of a childhood in between the training and the study." But of course. Geralt smiled at the memory, sending another gout of fire to the last rat still alive.

"So that's what was really keeping Keira away - not the wraiths but the rats" - Geralt grinned to himself. Keira was a powerful sorceress, she would have been able to put an end to all of that without much effort, but she was terrified of rats. "And there were too many of them here" - he thought. "Of course they fed on the corpses and multiplied, yet there must have been too many to begin with. And what's with the cages?" He lit up a torch to have a better look. A pile of small cages was taking up a whole corner. They were cages, not death traps - designed to capture small animals alive without harming them. Small animals like rats.

Geralt continued exploring the tower. The rooms on the upper floors were in a better shape - the attackers definitely did not ransack the house, they must have caught the family at dinner downstairs. There was just an odd corpse here and there, with more rats feeding off it. Did the rats stop them rummaging through the house? Were country folk afraid of rats? Stranger things had happened...

In the master bedroom Geralt found some letters thrown around on the floor. An argument had taken place here - an argument between the baron and his daughter, who fell in love with a local fisherman, and naturally her father disapproved. A tale that Geralt had heard before.

The upper floor seemed to have been occupied by a different person altogether - it was filled with books, bookcases and chests with books. "The mage" - Geralt remembered. "There was a mage living here who studied the plague. Ah. That explains the rats." Spotting a lever, he found an entrance to the mage's laboratory.

The laboratory was untouched, the mob must have never found a way in. Several human corpses were suspended in liquid in huge cylinders - victims of the plague that the mage had been studying. Did he kill these people? Or did they die of the plague, infected without his intervention? It didn't matter either way, the mage was now dead, too. His corpse was no where to be seen, although bones littered the floor. "The rats have eaten it all" - thought Geralt with disgust, spraying fire on the vermin but taking care not to burn any of the papers. "Keira would be right angry if I accidentally set the place on fire" - he thought. Besides, he wanted to know more about the mage before he returned to her.

When the rats' scuffles stopped and all was quiet, Geralt noticed a presence.

"You must be the spirit that possesses this place" - he addressed the room around him. "Show yourself."

He felt a movement of air but nothing appeared. "Not a wraith, must be a ghost" - he thought. "Well, let's see if I can bring you to light..." He lit up a magic lamp and a ghostly figure stood before him.

"You can see me?" - she said in surprise. "No one could see me..."

"Yes, I can see you with the help of this lamp" - Geralt pointed at the device. "What happened to you?"

"I was eaten alive!" - she cried. It was a young woman, Geralt realised, perhaps the baron's daughter. "The mage gave me a potion when the mob attacked, said to drink it to save my life, and I did, but when I woke up, these horrible creatures were all over me - eating me alive! And everyone else was dead! And he left me here, just left me behind to die!" She was wailing now. If ghosts had tears, she would have been crying.

"The rats" - Geralt concluded. "The mage gave you a sleeping potion so that you would appear dead to the mob, but he didn't think of the rats."

"He tried to save me" - the ghost nodded, calming down. "I am grateful to him for trying, but it didn't help - he still abandoned me!" She broke down in sobs again.

"He - who?" - Geralt thought he knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from the woman.

"My beloved... He was a fisherman down in the village... He wasn't with the mob when they attacked, but he came later, I saw him, and yet he just left me here to die! Father was right all along - he wasn't worth it!" She sounded angry now more than sad, and Geralt thought that perhaps hers wasn't a simple ghost.

"Is that why you are still here - because of your anger?"

"I want you to take my bones and bring them to my beloved for a burial, and that would appease my spirit and allow me to move on" - she looked at him, both pleading and commanding.

Geralt looked around the room - there was no shortage of bones strewn around, and he would be able to pick out the ones belonging to a young woman... except... Except that taking away the bones of a woman who had died a violent death would under no circumstances appease her wraith - for this is what she was, a wraith, not a ghost. And if she was asking him to do it, it was only to make her stronger. "It's a Pesta" - Geralt thought, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "She spreads the plague on the neighbouring lands, the locals were right about that. She looks like a peaceful ghost now, but the moment I refuse her request, she'll turn on me. And there is no way of simply defeating a Pesta."

Geralt braced himself for a fight.

"I won't take away your bones - this will not lift the curse" - he said to her.

"Damn you, witcher!" - she shrieked, changing into a black wraith - a Plague Maiden, a Pesta. "You men are all alike!" And with that, she attacked.

...

This was a fight for survival, not a fight to win.

Not much is known about how to fight a plague maiden, though one can assume they possess many traits in common with other phantoms and wraiths. They undoubtedly pose a great danger, though a witcher's immunities should at least prevent him from catching the contagious illnesses they carry.

Geralt recalled a passage from a textbook - it wasn't much help. "Extremely rare" and "believed by some to be a hallucination of a diseased mind" - perhaps, but this particular hallucination was now slashing through his armour as if it was butter. "Are those fingernails..?" - he caught himself wondering, noticing long sharp blades extending from the tips of the wraith's fingers. And what was that about the diseases? "A witcher's immunities should prevent him from catching them" - should? Oh, this sounded promising indeed. "I will have to submit to Keira's full examination afterwards" - Geralt thought to himself, half-grinning, half-grimacing. Some aspects of it were quite pleasant, while others... Let's just say that Keira was quite thorough.

The wraith however wasted no time attacking Geralt. It was all he could do to block her attacks as much as possible, for she left him no time to cast a shield or to drink a potion. She was almost immune to fire and took little damage even from his silver blade... while Geralt was bleeding from more and more wounds. She led him outside and danced around him, vanishing from before his eyes only to reappear right behind him - this was as bad as wraiths went, he thought. She was playing with him like a cat plays with a mouse, certain of the final outcome.

"But may be you shouldn't be so certain" - thought Geralt, feeling for a particular vial on his belt and gulping down the contents between the wraith's disappearance and reappearance. His vision blurred for a moment and he staggered as the toxins in the decoction hit, but an extra wound from the wraith was worth what was to come. The Succubus Decoction was raising the power of his attacks, slowly and steadily, until finally the wraith began to reel back in pain from the hits of his sword.

She got enraged - she was shrieking more than usual. Then she vanished. "Wait for it..." - thought Geralt tensing up, he knew this trick. Trying to keep the entire area around him within his field of vision, he braced for an attack from behind - somehow it was always from behind, whichever way he was facing. Three wraiths appeared instead of one, surrounding him and attacked all at once. "Not taking turns like good girls, are you?!" - Geralt cursed, this wraith was not playing by the rules. Each of the three sisters was weaker than the original, but the three of them together were stronger and more dangerous than before. Again they hardly suffered from Geralt's attacks, but the wounds they were inflicting on Geralt were also less severe. The dance continued.

"I am done with you!" - Geralt caught himself before he called a Pesta sister "filth". He lunged at the weakest sister and she vanished with the thrust of his sword. Switching his parries between the two remaining sisters, he managed to end another one, after which the last one presented little challenge. "This isn't finished" - he reminded himself, fumbling for another vial. Not a decoction - never drink two decoctions at once, the combined toxins were enough to end even a witcher. Except this one - White Raffard's Decoction. "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" - this could be a witcher's motto, for the combined toxicity of the two decoctions blurred Geralt's vision and dimmed the light, and not just for a moment. Yet White Raffard also restored his vitality, bringing him back from the brink of death. At that moment the wraith reappeared and attacked. She was almost finished, and it only made her stronger.

"No!!! You cannot win this!!" - Geralt bellowed, lunging at her, twirling to throw off those razor sharp blades of her overgrown fingernails. Twist and slash, lunge and thrust - a sword fight against an ethereal being was quite different from one against an opponent of solid flesh, and Geralt silently thanked his mentors again for insisting on that particular training. Of course by now he'd had plenty of opportunities to train with actual wraiths, not imaginary ghosts, but moves learned as a child were the deepest ingrained, he could do the dance with his eyes closed, as they had trained, and by now his vision had blurred so much, that he was dancing practically blind. And then... he felt no new cuts on his skin and heard no shrieks from the wraith. Was it over? He stopped moving, allowing his vision to clear slightly, and looked around him - the wraith was no where to be seen. "But no remains either" - he checked the ground. She would either reappear and attack again in a moment, or she could have retreated.

Geralt waited, trying not to drop to his knees of exhaustion. Standing still was dangerous - without a fight, his adrenaline levels would fall, and in his current condition he would collapse with them. He decided to find shelter and hope that the wraith wouldn't come back. The hut where he had spent the night before, seemed like paradise. He made for it, bolted the door behind him and finally dropped to his knees. This would be a long meditation.

23 Second Seed, 4E195 - Keira's Elven bath house

The embers in the fire grate were all but out when Geralt finally woke up from his meditation after the fight with the Pesta. The wind was howling in the trees outside, and Fyke Isle looked as desolate as ever. He didn't defeat the Pesta, he never thought he would - he just needed to survive the fight. In the end, she retreated just before she could be finished, as Geralt knew she would do. If he wanted to lift the curse from this place and send the Pesta to the next world, he needed to find a way to appease her spirit.

Those who think that the work of a witcher consists exclusively of fighting monsters, know only the half of it, if even that. Lifting curses and sending lingering spirits onto the next world is a duty that requires empathy, diplomacy and understanding of human nature - for the clues often lie with the living left behind. And it is not always by fighting that the spirit is sent on, either.

Now that Geralt knew what had occurred in the Fyke Isle tower, he thought that lifting the curse of the Pesta would involve her beloved somehow - the fisherman from a nearby village. He could ask around and find him, certainly, but that might be too blunt an approach - Geralt had to know the man's side of the story first. With the Pesta controlling the tower, he could not go back there to look for any letters or notes either, now that she was angry with him, she would not allow it. So Geralt decided to return to Keira for advice - she had been living in Velen long enough to have noticed what was going on.

...

"Geralt!" - Keira met him with an impatient welcome. "How... oh. Follow me!" And without allowing him to reply, she stormed into the back room of her cottage and... vanished.

"Typical" - smirked Geralt. "Now where is she gone to? Follow me, indeed!" But looking around, he noticed a strange glowing object on the dressing table - a portal. He touched it and felt a teleport tear at him. "I hate portals!!!" - he had time to think before emerging in a rather idyllic spot, a garden with an elegant Elven ruin converted into a bath house. Keira was standing there, handing him a goblet of wine, and Lena came from behind the ruin.

"We need to give you a good going over first, by the looks of you" - said Keira cheerfully. "And have your... err... gear cleaned - what's left of it. Gods, Geralt, did you roll in the dung or something?!"

"Close" - he nodded, accepting the wine. "The tower was filled with rats..."

"Ugh!" - Keira reeled back as if he had brought some rats with him. "So that is... ugh!"

"That is mostly blood, Keira" - Lena joined in, unbuckling the many belts on Geralt's armour.

"Hey, I can take it off myself, thank you!" - he protested, without much conviction. "It'll need repairs, too."

It didn't take long before the three of them were sitting in the bath house, with Geralt dutifully washing himself in the pool. Lena was going to soak his clothes in the stream, but Keira stopped her. "We have a spell for that" - she said, winking. With a wave of her hand, she had the smell, the dirt and the blood stains vanish, most of it anyway.

"Hmm" - Lena examined the result. "I still think conventional laundry does a better job... but this is certainly more convenient" - she winked at Keira.

With the two healers attending to him, Geralt was sure to get a thorough check-up for any diseases he might have contracted from the Pesta or elsewhere, so when he was given an all-clear, he breathed with relief. There was still a not such a small matter of his festering wounds left though, and as the ladies went about attending to them, he had no choice but to submit.

"You don't want any additional scars for your collection, I don't think" - Keira was saying, rubbing a smelly ointment into his skin. "As attractive as they are to some women, I think you've got enough as it is."

"But each scar tells a story" - interjected Geralt. "This one here is from a striga, that one is from a cockatrice, and these... umm... I have no idea" - he laughed.


"And most would not have been there if they weren't left to fester without proper treatment" - Keira cut him off. "Turn over."

Geralt started muttering something about not normally having mother hens follow him around, but then gave up. Lavender oil in Keira's ointment was making him sleepy.

...

"That's just the point, isn't it - longevity" - Geralt woke up to Keira's words to Lena. "Regular folk just don't have it."

"Unless they are elves, of course" - Lena pointed out. "Or dwarves."

"Or halflings, and so on" - Keira nodded. "And it seems that where you are from, it is a lot less controversial, but here humans are the dominant race, they've been waging wars, both open and covert, against the other races, and it isn't pretty. Of course now King Radovid is waging a war against mages, and I am forced to hide in this swamp..." - Keira sighed. "Oh, I don't know... I just never met anyone who I would want to have around all the time, more than a friend or a... you know."

"And here I thought you loved me!" - Geralt raised his head in mock anger. "I fell for you, you know!"

"You fell on top of me - literally" - Keira laughed. "From a roof. That doesn't count."

"We need to talk about the tower" - he sat up, stretching. "The baron's daughter turned into a Pesta."

"So the peasants were right - she is spreading the plague over the land" - Keira nodded. "And it explains the condition you were in. But what now? I can't examine the tower with her around!" Keira's disappointment seemed disproportional somehow. Why was that tower so important? The mage who lived in it, had studied the plague, and obviously Keira was hoping to find something useful among his notes... Useful for what? Geralt wondered.

"You have a plan for the mage's notes" - he said, looking at her shrewdly. "Let's hear it."

"I... well... it rather depends on what I can find!" - Keira started defiantly. "But assuming he had discovered something useful... I was going to take that to Radovid and become his adviser."

"Keira! You want to weaponise the plague?" - Geralt exclaimed, this wasn't what he expected. "Are you out of your mind? And go to Radovid? To get burned at the stake?!"

"I intend not to get burned, I assure you!" - she exclaimed hotly. "And weaponise the plague - yes, what's the difference, it's already spreading on its own! Radovid would have to accept me if I were to present him with such a weapon."

"He would have to do no such thing" - Geralt shook his head. "Keira - why?"

"Bed bugs!!" - Keira shivered all over. "I cannot stand the filth! I've got to get out of Velen!!"

"All right, all right" - Geralt was saying soothingly, moving to sit next to Keira and putting an arm around her shoulders. "I can see it really gets to you. But have you considered Kaer Morhen? It's not what you call luxury, but we do have clean sheets."

No, Keira had not considered Kaer Morhen. How could she? No one could even find the place unless they had a charm with them - the entrance to the mountain pass leading to the witcher fortress carried a concealment enchantment. Not that it stopped those assassins recently... or the mob a few years before... perhaps it was wearing off, Geralt mused to himself, watching Keira's face transforming from desperate anger into hope.

"Well, if I travelled through the mountains, I could avoid the war zones" - she was already planning her trip. "And whatever the state of the fortress, it will be better than Velen. And may be even could be improved..." She got up and started pacing the garden, talking to herself at times, having completely forgotten about Geralt and Lena still sitting by the pool. After a while she caught herself. "Yes, thank you, Geralt, this is exactly what I shall do. So, if there's nothing else..."

"Wait - wait!" - Geralt grabbed her arm. "Sit down. I still have to lift the curse of the Pesta, and I need your help" - he reminded her. "She's the baron's daughter, and she had an affair with a local fisherman - do you know who he is?"

"Oh, yes, I've heard of that!" - Keira sat down, now quite calm. "He lives in Oreton. Don't know the exact details, but everyone was talking about the two of them - a baron's daughter and a fisherman! But I don't know if he really loved her or not, if that's what you're asking."

"What are you going to do?" - asked Lena, wondering where this was leading. "Assuming he did love her, that is."

"Yes, we have to assume that, otherwise the curse could not be lifted" - agreed Geralt. "Because then the wraith's anger would be justified, you see... there would be no way to appease her spirit. But if he did love her and wanted to save her but was prevented through some misunderstanding or some other misfortune... well... there could be a way." He looked at Lena and she knew it didn't bode well for the fisherman.

"You have to sacrifice him to stop the plague and save everyone else around here" - she answered his unasked question. "If there is a way, you have to do it."

"What are you two talking about?" - Keira looked at each of them in turn, watching the unspoken part of their conversation.

"Sometimes longevity is of no importance" - Lena turned to Keira. "If he chooses to join her in death, they would be together in whatever world comes next."

"If any" - nodded Keira. "Beyond the Fade... no one knows what happens there. Which is why I prefer to linger here for a bit longer. Perhaps I'll still meet someone who could be more than a friend..." She looked at Geralt with a longing. He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh no, I didn't mean you" - she smiled. "I thought of Yennefer. Of what the two of you share."

"Twenty years of quarrels, you mean?" - Geralt smirked.

"She's taking her time, that's all" - Keira shrugged it off. "Neither of you are exactly house trained, moving around all the time as you do... But one day..."

"One day what?" - Geralt looked at her with interest, but she didn't continue.

...

The fisherman claimed to have loved the baron's daughter. He did try to save her but found her dead - or so he thought. When Geralt told him that she wasn't dead at that point but had taken a potion, the fisherman got distraught, lost even. He followed Geralt to the tower, happy to be reunited with his beloved. Geralt knew that the fisherman hadn't realised what it meant to be reunited with someone who'd died. But Geralt had a job to do, and this was the only way to do it.

The plague was lifted from the surrounding lands, and one more corpse added to the tower.

...

Keira left Velen within the next few days, staying only as long as was necessary to prepare for her long trip to Kaer Morhen.

"You can have my cottage, if you can stand the filth" - she told Lena. "It's probably better than the inn, unless you are looking for company" - she winked. "I leave the portal to the bath house here too - I've got others."

"Thanks, Keira, I'll see what I can do about the bed bugs, in case you need to return" - Lena smiled at her.

"I won't return! I'm going North!" - Keira exclaimed. "Well, East at first, crossing the whole of war-torn Temeria... then North, crossing equally war-torn Kaedwen... yeah... we'll see how that goes."

She smiled and mounted her horse, considerably less sure of herself, now that she took a bird's eye view of the road before her.

Post 54--the part where it says "Are those Ayleid stones I see in the distance?" ... that is very VERY true in TES4: Oblivion. A lot of times those ruins can be hard to spot, especially with all the vegetation in this game. So many times we've thought we've discovered a new place, only to find the white stones we're seeing are merely an Ayelid Well, or a Nine Shrine!

Yep, good job Lena. Sometimes it's better if we explore on our own for awhile.

I love those gigantic mechanical traps. Even more, I love luring mindless undead and somewhat clueless necromancers straight into them.

"His ribs were crushed..." again, I notice you include the medical aspect within your gaming. I know another gamer (who's also a doctor) who does this.

Oh wow, she can summon daedroth. Were you gaming on console during this portion of the story? Or PC? If it's console, it sure sounds like those higher levels of the game are challenging.

Blacch.... you described the disgusting necromancer practices well. I need a drink.

Until next time...

This is still Xbox360. We were level 25 or so. Yeah, the enemies get interesting abilities on higher levels...

Rising floor traps are good for the necromancers but not so much for the undead. You cannot squash a wraith!

3 Hearthfire, 4E202 - The Jeralls West of Bruma

"Which way do you want to take - through Southern Skyrim or Northern Cyrodiil? Neither will be straightforward" - Lena looked at Geralt over breakfast at the Pale Pass Inn.

"Do you want me to guess? I don't know what to expect along either route" - Geralt didn't like unreasonable requests.

"Well... perhaps I was being a little unfair" - Lena conceded. "I can tell you what to expect in Cyrodiil, but in Skyrim we'd have to try and find a way through the mountains, and I don't even know if there is a pass we could use."

"But if we went through Cyrodiil, are you sure there is a crossing into Skyrim near Falkreath?"

"No."

"So, we do have to guess then" - Geralt concluded, studying the map. "What are all these places in Cyrodiil? There seems to be a road connecting them."

"Most of them, yes" - Lena poured over the map.


"We are here" - she pointed out the Pale Pass Inn. "The road to the Northern Inn is the Old Pale Pass, Riverwood is North from there. The other road is the official New Pale Pass Crossing, but it's only good for people on foot - you can't take a horse through there without breaking its legs several times" - she grimaced at the memory of taking Roach along once and having to return soon afterwards as Roach could not scale the narrow stairs, not to mention go through low doors and cramped passages. "This is Bruma of course, and from here there's a road going along the Southern side of the Jeralls almost all the way to the Hammerfell border here" - she pointed at the left most corner of the map.

"There are a few settlements seemingly in the middle of nowhere in the mountains" - Geralt pointed at the isolated villages and inns along the Jeralls. "What's all that about? How do you even get there?"

"Well, this one is Pinevale" - Lena pointed at the village in the mountains West of Bruma. "There's a mountain pass from below. It's a pretty setting, up there, with great views. Not much going on though, and completely cut off from everything else, unless you like tumbling down the mountain." They both shook their heads. "Then this here" - she pointed at a marker of an isolated inn further West. "It's supposed to be a mead hall right in the mountains, virtually impossible to get to, unless you are already properly drunk... It is said they wanted to get away from all those sensible people who interfered with their drinking" - she smirked. "What I want to know is how they get the mead in."

"All right, and this then?" - Geralt pointed at a Daedric Shrine symbol. "Right next to a village?"

"The shrine to Hermaeus Mora. That's right along the road. I've been there but don't remember a village - perhaps that's lower in the mountains, don't know. But from the shrine the view is fabulous and the descent into Skyrim appears to be acceptable. We could try that way."

Geralt nodded. "But let's leave the horses here. With all the mountain passes and whatnot, we'll only get complaints."

"There's supposed to be a pass into Helgen here somewhere too - between Falkreath and Riverwood. But Helgen isn't even on this map" - Lena grimaced. "It's a border watch post, you see, with a bit of a town grown around it to serve the Legion. All burned down to the ground now by the dragon, of course - yes, I've been there, but don't ask me how - I got intercepted trying to cross the mountains... Was I trying to slide down from Pinevale? Could have been."


"Just how much mead did you drink that you can't even remember?" - Geralt grinned.

"Well, there was nothing else to do in Pinevale, I told you - it's in the middle of nowhere!" - Lena exclaimed defiantly. "We'll just have to go there and you'll see for yourself."

Geralt shook his head muttering something along the lines of "as if I haven't seen enough boring villages in my life already".

"Why is the Southern Mine marked on your map?" - Geralt continued his study. "Have you been there? It seems close to that turn of the New Pale Pass."

"The one where we got ambushed by werewolves?" - Lena shuddered.


"That isn't very descriptive - where did we not get ambushed by werewolves?" - Geralt laughed. "But yes, I mean this turn here" - he pointed at the turn just South East of the Southern Mine.

"We could try and see if the slope is not too steep - the werewolves certainly didn't think so."

"Perhaps if we'll find Helgen around there somewhere - wasn't there a mine nearby?"

"Yes" - Lena nodded. "After the dragon attack, Hadvar led me through a passage that could have been an old mine. Perhaps even this mine..." Lena was lost in thought.

"And then - from Helgen to Falkreath, is that straightforward?"

"Of course not!" - Lena laughed. "Travel is never straightforward in Skyrim! They've got a lot of bears around there too."

"Yes, as well as amateur assassins, novice necromancers and walking skeletons" - Geralt grinned. "Like those by Lake View. Where is Lake View, by the way? It's not on your map."

"Why would I be marking something if I already know where it was?" - Lena raised her eyes at Geralt, innocence itself.

"I would submit a complaint to the cartographer if I were you" - Geralt smirked. "You don't even have the lake that the house is looking out onto."

"Lake Iliata, yes" - Lena nodded. "But at least this map has roads marked on it, not like these modern terrain maps that you buy in Skyrim."

"All right, roll it up and let's go" - Geralt finished his breakfast. "I'll take these flags for sticking into the ground to mark where we've been. Snow bears don't make for very reliable markers."


They packed some extra provisions and set out West from the Pale Pass Inn.

4 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Pinevale - The Red Hall

It was a misty and chilly morning when Lena and Geralt set off from the Pale Pass Inn going West. They passed a hunter headed into the wooded hills ("The deer won't see me in the mist") and circled around Bruma on its Northern side. There the road had several branches, and they met a confused Imperial Forrester not sure which branch to take ("Which way is Bruma?" - "It's that mountain over there - it just looks like a mountain in the fog, but it is actually a city wall"). Continuing on and getting equally confused themselves, they eventually stumbled upon Applewatch ("Did you say you knew this area?") where they ran into several fog-brained bandits, with predictable outcomes. A Legionnaire was pacing in circles a little further up ("We have received reports of bandit activity around here, but I don't seem to... oh, killed them already, did you?"), and seeing how it was well past lunchtime, Lena suggested going to Pinevale for a meal ("They do have an inn, you know"). An hour later they even found the entrance to the mountain pass.

"It's really quick, I wonder how they've done it" - Lena was saying to Geralt with her hand on the door handle. "You blink - and you stand in Pinevale."

"Oh no, it's a..." - Geralt started saying when Lena blinked. She stood by the pass door in Pinevale but Geralt wasn't with her.

She looked around. Everything was as she expected it to be, so whatever could have happened to Geralt? She walked around the village, perplexed. Then took the passage back - Geralt wasn't there either. Ok, back to Pinevale - if you get separated, it's always best to wait where you were supposed to go. After an hour or so she heard hoofs and heavy breathing of a horse climbing a mountain - with Geralt on its back.

"That bloody pass is a portal!" - Geralt swore and Roach's ears curled up. "I hate portals!!" Roach grunted. "I had to call Roach and make her climb the mountain to get here over land. It is possible, but rather hard." Roach noticed stables with hay and took off. "Where is that inn? They better had mead! Or brandy!"

"This way" - Lena took Geralt's arm thinking to herself that those cat eyes of his seemed to be glowing. And may be they were. Now, where did she see a glow like that fairly recently? Oh... Alduin, in Helgen, just before he... Oh. She hoped the inn had brandy.

...

After a few drinks at the inn and some walking around the village, they decided to continue on, even though it was almost dusk already. They went down the mountain the conventional way avoiding the portal, then coming out near Applewatch, they took the road along the Jeralls towards the shrine of Hermaeus Mora. The mist was growing steadily thicker and thicker, so when they almost bumped into some Dwemer ruins along the way, Lena looked up in surprise.


"I don't remember seeing those before!" - she exclaimed, watching the mist momentarily lift. Was that just in her head? "Wow, look at those towers and domes!"

"We are not going in just now" - Geralt took her hand. "Exploration of Dwemer ruins is a serious business, and we are leaving it for another day!"

The mist descended again as he was leading her away from the ruin.

...

They reached the shrine of Hermaeus Mora when the mist turned black, or may be the night turned misty, it was hard to tell, they could barely see where they were going. Lena told Geralt to look out for a sculpture with tentacles on the right side of the road, and eventually he spotted it. Damn, that witcher vision was working even in the mist.

"Are they having a celebration?" - he asked in surprise.

"I am not sure" - Lena too could now hear faint sounds of bells in the wind. "Let's go ask."

They climbed the stairs to the shrine podium, but all was quiet there, although the faint sound of bells was still present.

"Oh, it's the mead hall just down the road" - one of the worshippers told Lena. "They put on the bells from time to time."

"Mead hall? What mead hall?" - Lena looked at the worshipper, round-eyed. "I've been here before - I don't remember any mead hall!"

"Well, perhaps you haven't walked the path of Hermaeus Mora yet" - the worshipper shrugged her shoulders. "Or may be you've walked a little further by now so that you can at least see the mead hall" - she added, turning away, bored.

"A mead hall is just what we need right now" - Geralt said in Lena's ear. "It's close to midnight and we need a place to spend the night."

"That must be that 'village' on the map" - Lena said as they approached the mead hall, indeed just down the road. "How could I have possibly missed it?" - she wondered and pushed the door of the Red Hall.

...

"What? Geralt, is that you? Who's this?" - Lena felt someone's hands touching her in places where only very few people could touch her and still keep their hands.


"Oh don't mind me - have a drink!"

Was that an Orc? No, two Orcs. Three Orcs?

Lena's vision was undulating from blurry to tripled to fogged to normal, in no particular order. A strange rhythmic noise filled her ears. The hall was lit with red light - in places, as everything else here, it seemed. A Nordic fire pit gave off enormous heat, undoubtedly required to keep the dancers warm... but no one seemed to mind, except may be those dead people piled up in the corner... Were they truly dead or just passed out? Who could tell. Lena wasn't sure there was a difference here.

She went to say hello to the man on a throne - he must be the host. He said something odd, then yawned and turned away. She was welcome to stay, it seemed, no one minded. The revellers along the back wall were particularly enthusiastic, perhaps she should say hello to them.


They were... a bit odd... and not very talkative... "What is this place?" - wondered Lena, catching those brief moments of clear vision to look around. A mead hall. It was definitely a mead hall. With mead. And wine. And whatnot. Beds, too.

"Come, let's get you to bed" - she heard a clear voice in her ear. "Walk this way."

Geralt. Whatever was in the air, didn't seem to affect him very much. He held her arm firmly and directed her up the stairs. On the first floor they found a room with beds and bedrolls where some of the dancers were still sleeping, and Geralt pointed Lena at a free spot on the bed. "Use it." She did.


"My cousin has the best ass of them all" - she heard a voice behind her, with Geralt replying something that made the voice gasp, then footsteps hurried away. Lena fell asleep.

...

When she woke up, the scene didn't change much, except that the dancers were now awake and dancing around her. No one paid much attention to her presence, and she figured that all in all, it was a very good thing. She went downstairs to look for Geralt, found him right by the giant fire pit, grabbed his arm and dragged him out.

"Did you even go to sleep at all?" - she looked at him with suspicion when they were standing outside in crisp cold air.

"Why?" - he grinned. "The dancing continued all night. Drinking too."

Lena shook her head in disbelief.


"Come on - let's try to find Falkreath. It must be somewhere that way" - she pointed North. A road was branching off just there, and they took it.

57: Yikes. She's tempted to feed on a dead necroguy. The part when she wakes up in some room full of skeletons and such is so true. A lot of our characters wind up crashing in places which are full of the deceased they just killed. Hey! At least they know it is safer. Nobody's gonna suddenly get up and attack.

This is really creepy (compliment) Lena. Well-written and believable.



I like how you include weather. I do this too in stories and imagination. I imagine there are seasons. Which might not be true at all, because maybe Nirn rotates completely flat, without any sort of angle like Earth does. But I still like to imagine there have to be some changes. Plus, in Arena and Daggerfall there are holidays, which include little messages here and there that sometimes imply if the time of year is cold or not.



Ha I do this too! I either use the Wait button (if my character stays in the shop while stuff is repaired) or I imagine they have to drop their things off. That assumes the adventurer I'm with does not repair his/her own stuff. Sorry for going off-topic again but in Arena and I think Daggerfall, we actually do have to drop our stuff off. Repairs don't happen sometimes for days.

She's having a tough time in FG, despite being a member there. What a bunch of layabouts.


61: Azura shrine-goers are abrasive. Yeah, good idea to get away from them. At least they didn't attack.

These guys Hauk and Jowan are getting their butts kicked this time. Wait WHAT??? Hauk is deceased??? What happens next?

62: So Jowan can send her into afterlife? Did I get that right? Is this something he can do in Dragon Age (or whatever gameworld he comes from.... my memory's not always so good).

Whoa thjs is deep. This. Can't even spell. Uh oh, a fake Lucien. I don't think she's gonna find Hauk. Uh oh.

Now she's relaxing. Maybe she should let him go but I have a feeling she'll find him. Just because she's so persistent.

Have you done Namira's quest in Skyrim? It's a reference to that, but I am not saying any more in case you haven't done it.


Thank you!


The Fade is a realm of spirits, a place between Mundus and afterlife, and for Hauk afterlife is Sovngarde. He has to cross the Fade to get to Sovngarde. Think of it this way: when you play the main quest in Skyrim and capture that dragon in Dragonsreach, he takes you to near the gates of Sovngarde, to some sort of a "lobby" area, and you have to cross it to get to Sovngarde proper. This is the Fade. Obviously, it is different for everyone.

In Dragon Age (where Jowan is from, indeed) the Fade features quite prominently. Mages are drawn to the Fade and can enter it, sometimes of their own will, sometimes because they are being drawn in. Finding your way out is a major problem though, and of course there are demons there waiting to trick you, like the ones that Lena came across. In Jowan's world when mages graduate from their Arcane Academy, the final exam is to survive the Fade - literally. The student is sent into the Fade and must find a way out and not succumb to demons. Not everyone manages that. Some never find a way out and remain in the Fade forever - not dead and not alive. Others succumb to the demons - allow a demon possess them in exchange for something they want. When such a possessed student comes out of the Fade again, he or she is immediately struck down by a templar who is standing guard there exactly for that purpose. So the graduation then means death. But those students who survive the Fade and come out not possessed by a demon, they are declared fully graduated Mages rather than just apprentices. At that point they are allowed to leave the tower where they were kept prisoners their entire lives up until then...

If you play Dragon Age Origins as a mage, your prologue is such an exam, and trust me - it isn't easy. There is more needed to survive the Fade than just fighting skills, which at level 1 you don't have much of. No, you need to keep a clear head... Something that Lena is having trouble with.


Relaxing is good, right? Right?! Never trust anything in the Fade...

I think you would enjoy playing Dragon Age Origins if you like this stuff.

Oh My, a mead hall! I can hear the music now.

Incense and peppermints, meaningless nouns
Turn on, tune in, turn your eyes around

and Dwemer Ruins, wow.

I should give them a try an see how they look. They certainly would fit the story.

That mead hall was something else... exactly the kind of wisdom you would expect from Hermaeus Mora. Just like in that book - "Wabbajack".

As for Dwemer ruins, I found three mods that add them, but I haven't explored them yet. The two in Cyrodiil I've already checked from the outside, they look awesome (this is one of them). The third mod adds 8 ruins just over the border in Morrowind. Here are the mods:

- West of Bruma
- West of the Temple of Ancestor Moths
- Eight ruins in Morrowind

5-6 Hearthfire, 4E202 - The view of Falkreath - Elinhir

Going North from the shrine of Hermaeus Mora, Lena and Geralt could see the Chapel of Arkay in Falkreath quite a distance away. They couldn't see any other buildings, and figured the town would be on the other side of the hill. The road turned West however, and Geralt pointed out that they should just make for the chapel cross-country.

"But here is a road" - Lena put on her stubborn face. "It goes somewhere. Falkreath is the nearest settlement here, so it must go to Falkreath."

"But it goes in the wrong direction!" - Geralt protested. "Falkreath is back there!"

"Well, may be it just circles around a big rock or something!" - she continued marching.

"I think you shouldn't go to the Red Hall again" - Geralt shook his head. "It makes you more stubborn than usual."

The road stretched West, and didn't circle back. After about an hour walking, the landscape started changing, it got warmer, the snow receded and greenery took its place. A woman in her underwear stood along the road, looking bored.


"Hello and welcome to Hammerfell" - she smiled when Lena greeted her. "Coming from Cyrodiil and going to Skyrim, were you?" - the woman noticed a confused look on Lena's face. "You crossed the border back there at the Threesome Junction."

"The... what?"

"The point where three countries meet: Cyrodiil, Hammerfell and Skyrim. That road goes right trough it. You continued West into Hammerfell" - the woman explained. It seemed she was quite used to it.

"And you are..?"

"A guard" - the woman smiled again. "This is armour, not underwear. Hammerfell is not Skyrim - we do not require all that excessive clothing!" - she looked Lena over, shaking her head.

"Oh" - Lena returned the guard's stare. "I see. Good day to you." She turned and marched off West.

...

"That guard was certainly arresting" - Geralt quipped as they were walking through the wilderness. "Oh come on - fashions vary from country to country!"

"But she was half naked!"

"She had a hood on!"

"We are not in Blackwood! It isn't that warm!"

"You just want such armour for yourself" - Geralt winked. "It is probably enchanted against cold, as well as against damage, because it didn't look very protective in itself."

Lena glared at him, but Geralt only smirked.

"Oh look - what's this?"

They almost walked into a wall. It was made of whole tree trunks and was completely blending into the surrounding forest. They followed it.


...

"Perfectly straight - and with a right corner" - Lena commented as the wall suddenly turned left. "And I can see lights through the gap - it's a settlement. Which means that there must be a gate for entering it. But we've been here already, and didn't find it."

They stood by a road sign that seemed to imply this was where you would enter Elinhir, except that there didn't seem to be any gates or doors for doing so.

"Turn around" - Geralt called from a short distance away. "Come stand here and turn around."

There was no door but there was an opening in the wall, perfectly visible from where Geralt was standing, and completely concealed if you looked at it from any other angle.


"A trick of light" - Lena was amazed. "Basically, you only find it if you know where to look."

"Where to look from" - Geralt corrected her. "Clever."

Elinhir was a small settlement spread out on a largely empty patch of land within the walls. Cows, chickens and horses walked freely between the houses, and Lena commented that in a town like this, it wasn't necessary to leave your horse outside - there was plenty of room within the walls. Walking around and marvelling at everything they saw, they didn't notice how tired they were and how late it was, until eventually their stomachs' grumbles could not be ignored any longer.


"There must be an inn here" - Lena turned to Geralt. "Let's try a few doors."

The Mammoth Tail Inn was deserted.

"Just how late is it?" - Lena wondered, finding people sleeping in their beds and not selling them any food or drink. Judging by the stars, it was well past midnight.

"If it's an inn, they have a remarkable lack of sleeping accommodations" - Geralt noted, finding the two beds occupied. "We'll have to camp in the dining room."

They spread their bedrolls and fell asleep, exhausted.



"Oh don't mind me" - someone tripped over Lena's head. "Here, have a sweetroll."

In the morning the inn was still devoid of customers, but at least the staff were serving breakfast, and Geralt was already hard at work sampling local selection of pastries.

"Do you get a lot of visitors here?" - Lena asked the innkeeper, looking around.

"Some of the locals come for breakfast or dinner from time to time" - the innkeeper looked around the empty room. "But as Elinhir only has five houses, that's not very often" - she smiled. "But we are the last settlement in Hammerfell, so anyone travelling to Skyrim or Cyrodiil has to stop here for the night - Falkreath is a day's journey away."

"Stop for the night... but you have no beds to offer" - Geralt looked up.

"Well, you managed, didn't you" - the innkeep winked. "Most people just pitch a camp outside or come with their own caravan. We couldn't rent out rooms even if we wanted to."

It seemed not just clothes varied from country to country.

...

The way to Falkreath was uneventful. Once they passed the Threesome Junction - quite obvious, now that they knew what to look for - the landscape changed to snow again and Skyrim welcomed them with its crisp cold air.

"It's good to be back home again" - Lena turned to Geralt. "Hammerfell was... different."

"Home? Skyrim could be home for me, certainly, but isn't it rather Cyrodiil for you?" - Geralt raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, the Niben Valley" - Lena sighed wistfully. "But Skyrim comes close too."

They walked in silence for some time, then the Chapel of Arkay in Falkreath became visible on top of a hill. But first, a chasm lay before them, filled with unusual crystal formations.


"How... How is this possible?" - Lena was looking at the crystals in disbelief. "These are not of this realm..."

"Oh, I've seen them around" - Geralt wasn't surprised. "Perhaps you need to spend more time in Skyrim" - he smiled.

However, it was getting late and they decided to direct their efforts towards finding an inn - the chasm could wait until tomorrow.

7 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Falkreath

"Well, that's more like it" - Lena caught herself thinking as she woke up to the smell of fresh coffee at the Falkreath inn. Geralt was already up, and after breakfast they set off in search of any records of the Second Imperial Legion from about two hundred years ago. They started at the chapel.

"Oh, I'm not that old!" - the healer laughed. "The Legion has not been stationed here in a very long time. But yes, I've heard stories of past wars - and massacres - and yes, there should be some archives around here somewhere... Sorry, I am not being very helpful" - she looked apologetic. "Speak to Runil - the Priest of Arkay - he might know more. He's usually at the inn..."

Runil was indeed at the inn, snoozing by the fire.

"What can an old elf do for you?" - he lifted his eyes to Lena when she gently touched his arm. "Oh... I think I know" - he added, looking at Lena and Geralt in turn. "Asgarsens, both of you?"

Runil was an old Altmer, which meant that not only was he alive two hundred years ago, but he was middle-aged already then, and assuming he lived in Falkreath, he should have known their father. He must have done, for he saw the family resemblance in their faces.

"We are looking for any information about our father, yes" - Lena smiled with relief. "Wolf Asgarsen, Commander of the Second Imperial Legion. We came here hoping to find some Legion Archives and may be records of our father's death... Although that is a slim hope."

"Yes, there are records here - in the Barracks cellar" - Runil nodded. "I can take you there, if you wish. But you won't find your father's death certificate there. You do know who your mother was? What she was?" Lena nodded. "Of course you do..." - Runil continued, looking over her attire. "Followed in her footsteps, I see." There was no judgement in his words. "Well, after her death, your father quit the Legion. At least officially - like the Dark Brotherhood, you can never quit the Legion fully. I do not know if he joined the Brotherhood proper..." - he paused as Lena shook her head. "Ah, I thought so. But he became an assassin, an Agent - it's not a rank, it's a title. It's all very hush-hush, so you won't find any records of him from that point on. Not in any Imperial Legion archives, that is."

"But..." - Lena's eyes burned with a thousand questions, but Geralt stopped her.

"It's nearly lunchtime, and before you subject this mer to your interrogation, we should at least order some food and drink." Runil's face cleared, and Geralt knew his words hit the spot.

...

They spent most of the afternoon in conversation with Runil who seemed quite glad to have fresh audience for his tales of the past - tales that no one wanted to hear any longer, as no one knew any of the people in them. But Runil wasn't just telling tales, he wanted to hear tales too - of the Pale Pass Fortress, the desk filled with papers, the secret safe in the bedroom and of course the two wraiths that Geralt finally put to rest.

"'Wolf spawn' they called you?" - he smirked at that. "That'll be Haldor the Bear - the bigger one of the two. But I suppose they looked different as wraiths."

"One was fighting like a bear, yes" - Geralt nodded. "Who was the other one?"

"Rolf the Monk" - Runil's eye twinkled. "Always hiding in the kitchen by the mead kegs. I am glad they are truly gone now, although I doubt Arkay would accept their souls, not after all this time..."

"So, there are no records of our father after he left the post of Commander" - Lena brought the conversation back. "But I think you know a thing or two, records or no records" - she smiled at Runil. "Would you tell us, please?"

"Well..." - Runil was sitting back in his chair, smiling into his wine. "Since you ask so nicely..." He took another sip. "Two things you need to ask yourselves: Why is there a crystal formation just outside Falkreath that belongs in the Shivering Isles' Greymarch? And why are both of you susceptible to transformations?" He looked at them shrewdly, gauging whether they understood the questions. The first one was straightforward, but the second one...

"Transformations?" - Lena looked up. "How do you mean?"

"Your vampirism - of course you got infected by accident, like everyone else, but why did you get infected so easily? Why did the cure not go far enough? Why do you still transform?"

"Oh! I see..." - Lena looked at Geralt. "Wolfsbane in that potion you gave me... It worked."

"I know. I have the same problem."

"But you are not a vampire!"

"No" - Runil touched Lena's arm. "Not a vampire. But have you noticed the colour of his eyes? His night vision? His sense of smell? Witcher senses, of course, brought about by the Trial of Grasses. Very few survive that trial, which is a transformation, but survive it he did, coming out stronger than most. That surge of adrenaline... very few witchers get it quite as high. Why is that? It's like he transforms..." Runil was looking at Lena, smiling. Lena was looking at Geralt, seeing him in an entirely new light. Yes, she had seen him transform. He didn't change shape - he was still a man - but his whole being seemed to change: he moved faster and smoother, he jumped higher, he twirled his sword faster, and his lunges and thrusts were far more powerful... and his voice... But surely, those were just the wolves. "They call him the White Wolf" - Runil continued. "Do you think it's just because the wolf was his school's symbol?"

"It was our father's name" - Lena looked at Runil, uncertain. "That must be why they chose the School of the Wolf for Geralt."

"Is that all?"

Was Lena trying not to see the obvious? She seemed to have been pushing it away from her, but it didn't make it disappear.

"Lycanthropy can by cured" - she looked at Geralt. "And besides, you don't have it. I am confused now."

"I am not a werewolf, no" - Geralt shook his head, smiling. "And yet wolfsbane was the first herb I had to find in Skyrim. Runil, how did you know?" - he looked at the elf with a question.

"I've lived a long time" - he smiled. "I've known a lot of men from their first day to their last - human life is so short compared to that of an Altmer. I've watched generations pass before my eyes. I know the signs. Not a werewolf, not a plain one, anyway. He doesn't have lycanthropy" - he added, turning to Lena. "The same as you are not a dragon, even though you are Dragonborn."

"So our father..?" - Lena didn't know what to think.

"He was Dragonborn, he was... not quite a werewolf... and yes, he might still live" - Runil refilled his glass. "Follow the trail and see where it leads you. Don't forget those crystals in the chasm here either. I have given you clues - it is up to you to discover the rest."

Their father, an agent? Could he be The Agent. Yes, I think so. Wow, this is really good.
Umm, how old is Lena?

Yes, that... Complicated.

Lena was born in 3E417, Geralt was born in 3E413, their mother died in 3E421, and their father "quit" the Legion soon afterwards. So when certain events over the border took place in 3E427... Where was Agent Wolf Asgarsen then? The Imperial Archives have no records about that.

Then of course the Oblivion Crisis happened in 3E433, followed by the Greymarch in the Shivering Isles, all this taking several years. The Fourth Era commenced in 3E438.

How old is Lena then? It is now 4E202, so on the face of it she is 223 years old, but that's wrong. She was born 223 years ago, but time passes differently in other realms, such as Oblivion Deadlands and the Shivering Isles, not to mention the Northern Realms and the Great Ocean that one must cross to get there. In terms of life experience, Lena is about 50 years old. In contrast, Geralt is double her age even though he was born only 4 years before her.

Time is complicated.

Wait - it just dawned on me: The Agent was the hero of Daggerfall, not Morrowind! The events spawn the years 3E405 to 3E417... Wow. Wow!! Yes, look how that fits!!

When I bought Oblivion from GOG, I got Daggerfall and Arena for free. Never downloaded either game though. But now I also found this: Daggerfall Unity - remade for modern computers. Just skimmed through an outline of the main events. I see it coming.

Of course Runil told them that Wolf Asgarsen only became an Agent after their mother's death, that's in 3E421, but who is to say that he wasn't an "unofficial" Agent before that. Hmmm. Some things we shall never know.

...hours later...

Gosh, Macole - you spun me off into an entirely new direction. Daggerfall has been remastered! Daggerfall Unity mentioned above, plus DREAM - and you have an entirely new game. Daggerfall 2020. Wow. I think once Lena gives birth, she'll be stuck at home for a while anyway, so that will be the time to let another character take the lead. Agent Wolf Asgarsen? Why not.

The Agent in Daggerfall is was I’m talking about.

As it’s been mentioned the Jandaga lived through the Daggerfall affair. With the Ladies giving him that cross-eyed stare, he was wondering how he was going to explain the two wild childs wandering around Tamriel some 200-years hence claiming to be his children. Then he remembered that the dragon break excuse. It makes everything possible.

Daggerfall Unity is an amazing project. I dreamed but never thought something like this would ever be accomplished. It plays so well. I’ve spent hours with no bugs or crashes.

Unity is good on its own but with 5 easy to install mods it is absolutely a D.R.E.A.M come true. I use 20 mods BTW.

One last thing, Daggerfall was where my idea for Kaleah’s story began.

Macole, I think there may have been more than one Agent in those times. There was a lot to do! 12 years is a long time. The Jandaga is an elf, while Wolf Asgarsen was definitely a Nord, so to reconcile this, they would both have to be snow elves or something... Not impossible in itself, but I think what rather happened, was that everything got mixed up during the Warp - people couldn't remember what happened anyway. There were many stories about The Agent - but note how no one knows what he looked like, what race he was or even whether it was a man or a woman! That's because there were several people working for the Emperor there, each bearing the title of The Agent. The Legion likes its plausible deniability - that's why they like Hauk so much, because of Iver, his twin brother. No one can ever be sure which one they saw at any given time, in particular from a distance wearing a helmet.

So the Jandaga can firmly tell his ladies that if he can't remember ever begetting two wild kids with a Breton assassin, that's because it didn't happen. It was another Agent altogether.

8 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Crystal Chasm

"So, what about these crystal formations?" - Lena put her hand on one protruding from a chasm just South of Falkreath. "They belong in the Shivering Isles' Greymarch - they are Jyggalag's, symbols of order or some such. They are not supposed to appear in Mundus, or to have any other meaning. I don't get it." She looked at Geralt with a question.

"I don't have an answer to that" - shrugged Geralt. "But I have seen them elsewhere in Skyrim. They are just as strange as these Oblivion gates - why have they not stopped appearing in spite of the Oblivion Crisis being over and done with? Perhaps this is connected."

"There must be a conduit that allows it" - mused Lena. "I wonder if it is related to the dragons returning, too."

She was still standing by the crystal, holding her hand on it.

"Let's have a look at the cave that these crystals enclose" - she said matter-of-factly.

"Cave? What cave? I don't see any cave" - Geralt looked at her suspiciously. "How do you know there's a cave here?"

"I do not know" - said Lena slowly. "It's this way" - she pointed.

The cave was completely made up of crystal formations, floor, walls, ceiling - everything. It was like being inside one of them.

"You know those Obelisks in the Shivering Isles? They are always there, but normally they are inert, just sitting there like rocks. However, during Greymarch, they open up, there's energy streaming through them, and they spawn Knights of Order. I wonder if they are in fact not solid as they seem to be, but hollow, extending deep underground, so that all they do during Greymarch, is just lift up the lid..." She looked around. "I wonder if we are in one such Obelisk now."

"Or something similar" - Geralt nodded. "Can you feel the buzz?"

Yes, she could feel the buzz, she could hear the din too. And then she could see it - a Legion Commander standing before them. Their father, or his ghost.

"I see you finally found this memory capsule" - he said. "I am not actually here, it is a recorded memory, preserved by the crystal. There was a service I did for Jyggalag, and in return he granted me a way to speak to you, even from beyond my grave. My only regret is that I cannot see you."

"Must be a blood enchantment" - Geralt whispered in Lena's ear. "Activated by our presence."

"There are other capsules like this in Skyrim, each holding a different message. I could not be sure which one you would find... although I was pretty sure you'd start here, in Falkreath."

"Father, can you hear us?" - Lena got up and approached the apparition. It made a movement but did not reply.

"It is enchanted to sense our presence, no more" - said Geralt. "You cannot actually talk to him. Pity."

"That wouldn't be something that Jyggalag could ever accomplish" - Lena turned to him. "He is too orderly."

"It is now the year 427 of the Third Era, and the Empire is once again in turmoil" - the apparition resumed its message. "Since you are here, you must have spoken to Runil, and he would have told you that after your mother's death in the year 421 I quit the Legion and became an Agent - an Agent of the Blades. Of course I didn't actually quit the Legion, but all official records of my activity had seized. This was different from my previous work when I was still officially a Commander. The Warp in the West served to confuse all of those accounts anyway, but the Legion regretted not to have made me a detached Agent already then. There are more people like me, of course. As of now, I depart for Morrowind to assist with the crisis there. There is no way of telling what will occur, but the signs are not good. Daedric activity is suspected, but may be it is something entirely different. One thing is for certain: the Blood Moon is on the rise."

The apparition paused, as if waiting for a response.

"Blood Moon?" - Lena looked at Geralt who wasn't taking his eyes off it, listening intently.

"Hircine's Great Hunt" - he answered without turning. "Not the same as the Wild Hunt that I was chasing in the Northern Realms, oh, this one is entirely different. But it seems I have a Hunt to chase again."

"You? Why? Oh..." Geralt's eyes seemed to be more orange than usual.

"Yes, I have felt it for a while already. The Great Hunt of the Fourth Era is upon us, but father - he was drawn into the previous one."

"But you are not a werewolf!!" - Lena exclaimed with defiance. "And neither was father! I hope..."

"You don't need to be a werewolf to be drawn into it" - Geralt looked at her as the apparition seemed to be waiting for them to finish talking. "Hircine marks his chosen ones, and father as Dragonborn was of course of great interest. I wonder why you haven't been marked? You don't seem to feel it."

"No, I don't" - Lena shrugged. "But I have absorbed several dragon souls already, father never had - there were no dragons around then. I wonder if it shields me from Hircine."

"Perhaps" - agreed Geralt, turning back to the apparition. "Please, continue" - he said to it.

"This capsule can only hold a short message, and my time is almost up" - the apparition continued. "I left you some accounts of the past in the other capsules, if you are curious. I shall try to leave traces - scrolls or letters - here and there, but you understand I cannot do it openly, and I have no knowledge how long these messages will have to wait for you to find them - it could be centuries for all I know. I shall try to find a way. I love you, children. I hope your lives are less tumultuous than mine, although I fear it is an empty hope."

The apparition fizzled out and vanished, the buzz and the din stopped. The crystal cavern they were in, was perfectly still. Geralt took out the scroll with their father's letter that they found at the Pale Pass Fortress.

"This was written some years after this message, I think" - he reread it. "There's no date, but from the way he talks about you, you must be older than ten - your age at the time of the recording we've just heard. I think he wrote this when the Oblivion Crisis broke out and you went about closing those gates..." - he looked up at her. "Talking about a tumultuous life" - he smirked. "Besides, in the letter he says that he became an Assassin, but in the recording he only says he's an Agent, which is more general."

"So what - he returned to the Pale Pass Fortress years later to hide this scroll?" - Lena was unsure.

"Why not? He said he wanted to leave traces for us to find and use secure places to do it. He knew you'd trace him to the Pale Pass Fortress, so it was a perfect place to leave a breadcrumb" - Geralt smiled at her. "He must have fought those wraiths that we finally put to rest..."

"That you put to rest" - Lena sat down next to him, hugging him around the shoulders. "Master Witcher, do be careful with them werewolves. They can swarm on you" - she winked.

"Oh, I'm not leaving yet" - he put his arm around her. "Hircine's Great Hunt is still some time off, although the werewolves are already swarming in Skyrim. There have been no other signs so far. From what I understand, Hircine likes to prepare these things in advance..."

They sat in a crystal cavern holding each other close, having just seen for the first time an image of their father. A ghostly image, but an image nonetheless...