User blog:SkyrimsShillelagh/Nine Masks for Mother Ashna (Part 3)

Prelude
Okay, so, I realised this may take a bit to pick up, as I haven't even introduced the main villian yet, so stick with me until it does.

Nine Masks for Mother Ashna (Chapter 3)
Forelhost was a short trip from Riften, but it seems like a journey to Dacian. Mainly because Ira and Jean-Claude had started a polite conversation in attempt to get to know each other, forcing Dacian to retreat inside his thoughts if he wanted to maintain his sanity. He did not know why the discussion of trivial things bothered him, but it certainly did.

The carriage could not have stopped soon enough, and when it did, Dacian practically threw himself out of it.

“Come.”  He beckoned to Ira and Jean-Claude, looking up that path at the ruin. “Let us be swift.”

As they headed towards the ruin, Jean-Claude decided it was a good idea to ask exactly what they were doing here. They were looking for Dragon Priest masks…

“Father, why are we looking for masks?”

Dacian stiffened, unprepared for the question, uncertain whether he should inform the boy just what was going on.

“Jean-Claude… have you seen your mother lately?”

The boy made a confused expression. “Yeah…”  He answered hesitantly.

“You know she is sick, yes?”

“Yeah… you- you said she was getting better.”

Dacian pursed his lips. “She’s not.”

“…What do you mean?”

“She is dying, Jean-Claude.”  Dacian said, his voice soft.

Jean-Claude halted, causing Dacian come to a stop along with him. The boy took a moment top process all this before he made an angry face at his father.

“And you’re spending that time… antique hunting?”

Dacian shook his head, surprisingly patient. It was as if he had been saving an explanation for a while. “I was once a powerful mage. Much more powerful than I am now. If I was how I used to be, I could cure her with a thought. But… I surrendered that power a long time ago. These ‘antiques’ can help me restore that power.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jean-Claude’s frustration turned into confusion. “Why?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“To save my own life, as well as the life of your mother and sister.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Jessica?”  The oldest of the children, by far. She had twelve years on Jean-Claude, who was the second oldest after all.

<p class="MsoNormal">There was once a very dangerous man, who wanted to see us dead, and wished for my power. I surrendered my abilities to a friend, a powerful mage as well, of course, who in turn sacrificed himself to see the dangerous man killed.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Ira was watching the two with curiosity during all this, not having the decency to give them some privacy, which irritated him to no end. But Jean-Claude drew his attention back with another question, after a long silence.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You killed him?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Dacian’s son knit his brows. “You’ve killed people before?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Dacian hesitated. “Yes.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jean-Claude was starting to look a little worried. “How many?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Another hesitation. “Too many to count.”

<p class="MsoNormal">A boy did not like hearing that his father once routinely killed. Perhaps if there was a reason for it, Jean-Claude could find a way to admire that, but he did not see how when a Breton noble killed it was not a senseless killing.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Did you have good reasons?”  Jean-Claude didn’t even realize his own was rising in anger.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Not all of them. But it was only ever because I thought my life was in danger.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jean-Claude then surprised himself by talking back which, while not punished severely, was always a big no-no in the Bellamy household. “That’s selfish of you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Dacian narrowed his eyes, his expression steely, and he looked away.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t make myself out to be a hero.”  Which is probably the worst thing a son can hear from his father. The boy turned way sharply and marched up the hill towards Forelhost, Dacian watching as he left.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“You have a rather curious parenting strategy.”  Ira noted, almost jovially. Dacian had forgotten she was there, and watched as she passed, following Jean-Claude. Dacian soon headed up after them, seeing nothing curious about his parenting.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">--

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Jean-Claude had come to a halt, peering around a bend.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“What is it?”  Dacian asked, sounding irritated, when he actually wasn’t. He found that he sounded that way a lot, mainly on accident as well.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“There are people.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“What?”  Dacian looked around the bend himself. Sure enough, there were several Nordic men encamped around the entrance to the crypt, seemingly minding their own business.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“What do we do?”  Jean-Claude asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">What do we do?  They obviously had some reason to be here. One did not go on day trips to Nordic ruins. Maybe now that the cat was out of the bag on the whole killing thing, perhaps he could handle them…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Ira walked around them both headed out into the clearing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“You dolt!”  Dacian hissed at her. “What are you doing?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Come on.”  She insisted to her companions, obviously having something in mind. “Let’s go.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Dacian stood his ground, but Jean-Claude moved on ahead, forcing Dacian to come as well.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Greetings, gentlemen.”  Ira said with overbearing friendliness as they approached. “How bears the day?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">The Nords responded by giving her bewildered looks. No one was supposed to be out here. And what was anyone doing out here, that wasn’t here for what they were here for.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Good…”  A man replied suspiciously.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Ira pretended like she hadn’t heard his tone. “We’re here to pay our respects to the dead. Would any of you fine lads care to join us?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">The Nords looked over the middle-aged Breton man and Breton boy, and decided none of these three looked like treasure hunters.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“No. We’ll pass.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Ira nodded respectfully In response, said “Good day,” and lead her two Breton companions into the ruins.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“You see, Mister Bellamy.”  Ira began as they entered the ruin. “A little tact never hurts.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Dacian grunted, but said nothing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">---

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Dacian had been to Forelhost before. In fact, he remembered his visit here with not-Toan, Isaiah, Arik, and Kay quite vividly, although likely for a much different reason than the other three men.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">He also knew exactly where the Dragon Priest was. “Come. It’s at the central sanctum.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Dacian lead them through the winding halls, knowing exactly where everything was. This drew attention from Jean-Clade.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Have you been here before, papa?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Yes. Many times. It had adequate facilities for my...” Dacian wondered how he should phrase this. “Studies.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Jean-Claude just nodded, deciding that answer was adequate, and the three arrived in the central chamber. The deceased lay where they’d been felled almost 20 years ago now, and Dacian approached the long undisturbed Dragon Priest ashes, crouched by the body, and withdrew the mask from its place in the ceremonial armor. Jean-Claude and Ira looked at it over his shoulder.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“That’s a Dragon Priest mask.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Indeed. See this lines here,” Dacian began to delve into an explanation when Ira cut him short.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“We’re low on time, right?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Huh? Oh yes, come on-“

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Fuck! Anaric was right!”  A voice shouted, causing both Bretons and Nord to whirl around.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">The Nordic men had followed them in and gathered in the doorway, all of them wearing angry expressions.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“And they’ve got the mask!”  The original speaker yelled, his eyes landing on the item in Dacian’s hand. With that, the Nords all got the same idea and surged forward. None of them were armed at the moment, but then they were all tall and strong so they probably didn’t think they needed to be. They were very wrong.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Dacian stood up and stepped forward, standing out in front of Ira and Jean-Claude. As the Nord’s drew near, purple light flickered beneath his fingers, beneath his palm, and soon a Draugr burst to life. The undead bolted upright with a groan, and then a growl, before swiveling its head to lock on the men. It clambered to its feet, waved it’s sword over it head, and charged to meet them. All six courageous Nords turned tail, and charged in the other direction.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“Come then.”  Said Dacian, calm despite what just happened. “We’ll want to hurry before the find a way to elude it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">“It’s not going to hurt them, right?”  Jean-Claude asked as they walked out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">Dacian considered for moment, before saying, “Of course not. Just a scare tactic.”  And then mentally terminated the spell, undoubtedly before any real damage had been done. Somewhere in the crypt, all Draugr became dead once again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">This earned a glance from Ira, who had undoubtedly seen her share of necromancy, given she was a priest of the God of the Dead, and knew the spell was genuine. Dacian didn’t notice though, content with seeing his son give an approving nod in response. Dacian didn’t know what the boy thought of him at the moment, but at least Dacian still had his trust. And he’d try to keep that.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">They headed for the cart, climbed back in it, and set off again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-style:none;border-width:initial;padding:0in;">This time for Winterhold. Dacian knew for a fact that there were several masks in the College.