Chapter 27
2nd Era 582
Fennorian's contact, who went by the name "Old Mjolen", was indeed like a Reach witch, just as he said. She also reminded me quite a bit of Bothela at the Hag's Cure in Markarth, in my time. Had the same kind of knowledge and way of talking, too. Constantly told me I'd make an incredible witch myself, and Fennorian could be a "clever woman" too, even though he was male... and an Elf. Then she got really... randy and started talking about all the love potions she could make "and that it looks like you two have been tasting some" to which Fenn blushed silently, his head down as he examined alchemical components. He got redder and redder and began to nervously chuckle as she went on and on in the same topic while we worked, before I finally stopped it with a conversation change when she was going into "potions for the bedroom". I could see, now, why he wanted to meet her out in the marsh: less embarrassment for everyone within earshot. The only ones who didn't seem really embarrassed were Verandis and Gwendis. Their eyes sort of... gleamed from what I could see out of the corners of my vision, as they talked with Princess Svana and Lyris. I didn't want to know what those eyes were shinning about.
"I got it!" Mjolen cried, before scribbling down what she'd need for some sort of "cure" for those harrowed by the harrowstorms (those left "alive" and not totally vaporized, that is). There was a ton of ingredients I didn't recognize, of course, but one item stood out: Arkay's Sacred Oil. I knew it well, because a lonely Priest in Riften's Hall of the Dead showed me plenty of rituals and elements of those rituals as I allayed her sense of undesired solitude with conversations whenever I could stop by. "I don't know half of these ingredients," I admitted, getting up from the table where we had been working, "But this Oil. That I know. Its used in Arkay's rights over the dead, to prevent their souls from being used after death." I glanced over at Svana. "I know there's a Temple of the Divines and Hall of the Dead, here, so I know you very likely have a stash of that Oil. Can we have access to that stash?"
She actually shook her head, but she explained, "My father locked up and barred the Hall of the Dead and he's locked up the Temple, too. I tried to go there and get more soldiers to protect the town from where they've been inside the Temple, but I can't even get close to it without being shooed away."
Damn, I'd make that Svargrim pay. But first, I needed the Oil. "Well, even though your stash is locked up tight, I still think I can help. It'll be... dangerous, but still very doable."
"Why would it be dangerous? Priests use it all the time." Lyris stated, leaning on that great battleaxe like a walking stick.
"Not dangerous in that way, not for the rest of us. But... well... let's just say the god who blesses it has a long history of hate for our current friends." I said, placing myself in the center of the room. I looked over at the members of House Ravenwatch. "Since you are under Anu's protection, Arkay won't make a move against you, but you'll still likely feel his animosity."
"You're summoning the God of Death himself?" Gwendis asked, her mouth open in either shock or awe. Probably a little of both. "Are you mad? He could kill us!"
"Arkay has had a long battle against vampirism and necromancy. Like I said, you're under his Father's protection. He wouldn't dare go against his Father's wishes. The most he could do is glare at you, but that's all. You won't be burned to ash, I promise." I rested my hand on the Amulet under the neckline of my shirt. I kept it hidden in the company we were currently visiting, who didn't need to know I was the Empress, as that would only needlessly complicate things. I placed my fingertip on the peridot, the light green of the gem like the new leaves in Spring, as Arkay was also the Lord of Seasons. I centered my mind and prayed aloud. I could still feel Gwendis' shock and growing fear, but I ignored it as much as I could. Everyone else was hesitant, but expectant. "Arkay, God of Death, I pray for your assistance. There are those who are undermining your realm by using the souls of the dead for an unholy purpose. Come to me, and provide protection to those who desire it."
There was a brief few moments where nothing happened, but shortly there was a gust of light wind, before his sigil (two circles intertwining: one white, one black, representing Life and Death and how they always were a part of the other) appeared on the floor, then the god himself, standing where the sigil had been. To some, he appeared with a very full, flowing beard, but to me, he always appeared as an austerely-robed monk. His robe seemed to be canvas, but it was a deep, dark brown color, nearly sucking the light from the room. The long robe went all the way down to the floor, and the deep hood nearly shadowed his entire face. The only parts revealed were his deathly pale white skin, stern mouth and firm chin. All else was hidden by the hood. His hands were up in opposite sleeves, crossed over his lower chest, the sleeves themselves roomy enough to not bunch up. The lone bit of decoration was an openly displayed amulet on a fine copper chain: his sigil, the Twining Circles of Life and Death. It hung to his upper chest. He regarded me silently - as he had before - as I greeted him.
"Thank you for answering my prayer, My Lord," I intoned, far more formal with him than I had been with Shor or even Stendarr. "Innocent people are being killed and their souls being used in necromantic rituals. We need your help to stop it."
He stood there silently, the hood facing me, before turning his head over his shoulder to gaze at the vampires there. I felt his glare, just as they no doubt did. Fennorian shrunk in his seat under the withering gaze. He turned his head back to me. He finally spoke, his voice as austere as the rest of him. "You are aiding vampires." he said simply, though his voice (as plain as it was) echoed power and the expected distaste for three of the current company.
"As Anu wished. They are not like the rest. You know this as well as I do."
He was silent for a moment (that seemed like forever) before taking his hands out from his sleeves. One fine-fingered hand pointed to a spot on the floor, where a large, golden brown, barrel-sized clay container appeared, arcane symbols painted in black upon the lid. The Oil. He pointed to another spot on the floor by my feet with his other hand, and a rolled sheet of parchment blinked into reality, tied and secured with braided white and black ribbons. He looked back up at me, putting his hands back up his sleeves, saying, "The Oil you desired. It will refill when the urn is depleted. The scroll is consecrations and invocations you will need to repel and destroy the spells and incantations they will use against you... and your allies." he added, after a barely disguised disgusted pause. His hood next turned to where Svana was sitting, slack jawed at the appearance of the God of Death. His voice was somewhat more tender towards her, though it was still pretty austere and stern. "Your father is not to be trusted, child. He has joined the Grey Host as a Vampire Lord. Take the safety of the kingdom into your own hands." He glanced back to me briefly before he disappeared in a blink; there, then not.
I exhaled. Svana broke out in tears. "No! My father! How could he have joined the Grey Host!"
I picked up the scroll and unrolled it. It was covered in invocations to Arkay and his servant Magna-ge to disrupt anything even remotely related to the Dark Art, and I'm sure resurrecting monsters from thousand-year-old ashes was definitely considered "necromancy". "You have me and the House Ravenwatch to help you, as well as Lyris. She could take on an entire regiment of Grey Host and come out the other side, I believe." I smirked a little, even as Svana attempted to halt her tears. "Although it doesn't seem like it was, Arkay still did bless us."
Mjolen yelped. "I knew you were a witch! You summoned a god, like the best of them!"
I shook my head, rolling the parchment back up. "Simply a... warrior priest, I guess you could call it." I pointed to the urn. "There's all the Oil you could ever need. Just... keep it at a distance from our friends here. They'll... react to it. Now, we just need to--"
I was cut off by a rolling of the earth, and many screams. Before I knew what I was doing, I was running outside, everybody but the old lady following me.
* * *
A soldier ran up to Svana. "Princess! You're still alive!"
"Gjukar! What's going on here?" she asked him, as winds began to pick up, and a subtle coppery tang filled the reddish-tinted air. Oh, no...
"A new harrowstorm! You said it tasted like copper! But where is it coming from?" I yelled, over the growing winds.
"The King took some of his men into the Temple of the Divines, My Lady!" the guard shouted to Svana, whose red hair was even redder yet in this cast of light.
"Svana! Lyris!" I yelled, "Take Gwendis and Verandis with you to gather all the people you can to the Blue Palace. Its the only safe place because of the Oil! Cicero! Go back with them and protect them!" and I grabbed Fennorian and made a run for it to the Temple.
As we reached the door, it flew open and out scrambled, piling over each other in their frenzy, hordes of Blood and Harrowfiends. I didn't know if Fennorian, a vampire and undead himself, would be immune to their thirst, but I was definitely mortal and full of tasty blood. As my hand snapped up with my ward, time seemed to slow and a voice I knew well filled my mind: "Though blinded by thirst for life in their loss of it, they still can be tamed, and controlled. Use the Words you have learned for other Shouts, but combined to a different effect." Akatosh said. "I remind you now: Mid Mir Shaan. The Words to inspire loyalty and allegiance."
Time returned to normal, and I yelled out, "Mid, Mir, Shaan!"
To my utter amazement, they all slowed until they just stood there, hunched over like zombies, like... like they were waiting for me to say something. I forcefully pointed into the temple. "Find Svargrim! Find Rada al-Saran! Kill them!" I thundered, and the bloodied, feral creatures that were once shopkeepers, seamen and regular citizens turned and ran, stumbling over each other in their haste as they screeched and let out unearthly cries in their hunger for blood as they disappeared into the depths of the building. I ran inside with Fenn and shut and locked the door behind us.
It was cool in here, but there was no wafting incense and no ringing bells of devotion. A shrine to Molag Bal stood where Arkay's once sat. I walked over to it and crushed it, before snuffing out the red candles there. I stooped and took Arkay's shrine and chanted over it, restoring it to its unbroken state and sat it in its alcove once more. I heard Fenn approach and looked up into his face as he remarked, "I don't know what you did back there, but I sure hope it works."
Taking a luxury of time I really couldn't afford, I cupped his face in my hands; he likewise did the same. "Akatosh spoke to me, told me the words to say." I brushed my thumbs over his smooth cheeks. "Would you be so kind as to give me a good luck charm before we enter the bowels into darkness?" I smiled hopefully.
His mouth was tinged with his earlier smile, back at Ravenwatch, where he had been mixing up my (what I hoped would be) grenade. "I'm a scholar. I'm not a powerful magic-user like you. But, I will do what I can."
I threaded my hands through that hair and kissed him deeply, letting it carry everything-I-felt. He answered in kind, making it seem like time had slowed once more. Full of regret, I pulled away. His eyes glowed in the dim light, full of desire. "With your good luck charm, perhaps I can prevent the end of the world and its turning into mindless husks. I love you, Fennorian. I hope we can spend more time together when all this trouble is finally wrapped up."
"And you will. If I've learned anything as my time as an arcane investigator, it is how to feel and gauge someone's magic and well of power. You are like none I've ever felt or seen before. If there's anyone who can save the world, from any evil that can be had, it's you."
I had tears in my eyes. "Come on. Let's see if we can stop this harrowstorm. Just another evil event in a long line of them to face. Let's face it together."
* * *
Oh, the irony. We were in what was in my time Potema's Catacombs. I wonder if she'd known the history and that's why she elected this place for her undead army?
"In my time, this goes down a long way, but then eventually went back up, into a mountain outside the city. I'm suspecting that it goes farther down than that, though." I said, as we ran through the relatively-newly-dug caverns. Though he claimed to "only be a scholar", he ran quite well, and didn't show any signs of being winded, but I was another story...
I stopped and panted, leaning on the cave wall. "Okay, I gotta stop... I can't run anymore... Too winded..." I gasped, breathing deeply. I held up a finger as he was about to say something. "If... If you think I'm letting you go off... on your own... no way."
"I was going to suggest something else, actually." he replied, flipping his hair out of his face.
"What... what was that?"
"A potion, to restore your stamina."
"I'll need... Need a whole cartload of them if... If these tunnels go as far below the earth as I think they do. Got a stamina regeneration potion, instead?" I was slowly getting my breath back, leaning a little less on the wall. Damn, I didn't have time for this; the harrowstorm was outside at who knew what stage and I was winded and deep in the earth and I hadn't even reached the bottom yet!
He smiled a little (oh, that smile!) and reached into his pack, bringing out a small, green bottle. Not caring if it tasted of Fly Amantia (a bitter, acrid taste if there ever was one!), I took it, popped the cork, and gulped it in one shot. I leaned a little on him as the potion went to work. "If I'd known there would be this much running involved, I would have worn stuff enchanted with stamina regeneration."
"What are they enchanted with, instead?"
I could feel my wind coming back, faster than it would have if there was no potion. "Magicka regeneration, and... well... the ability to stretch easily. Leather tends to not be incredibly flexible the more form-fitting it is. I'm sure you know that as well as I do," I added, a wry smile twisting my mouth. I stood up straighter, no longer needing support.
He smiled in kind, hands lightly on my waist. I combed his hair (again!) out of his face. Amethyst eyes glinted in the dim light. "Come on. Let's go. If you weren't here, I'd be crawling on the floor right now."
* * *
Damn. Damn! "Damn! They tunneled all the way to Blackreach!" I looked all around. There was no mistaking it: you couldn't find huge mushrooms like this anywhere else, but in Blackreach. "Are you telling me I ran miles down into the earth?!"
Fennorian's mouth hung open in awe as he gazed around our surroundings. His eyes took on an odd hue in the bluish-green light. "Blackreach! I'd only heard the legends and read the stories. I never thought it really existed. Oh, how I would have loved to study this place in detail."
I took his hand, bringing his eyes to mine. "I know. I sense what we are looking for is just ahead. Shall we explore over that way?"
He grinned sheepishly, fangs showing. "Sorry. Its a pickle, as always."
"Oh, my God. Are you seeing this?" I stared. We were on a high cliff, overlooking a castle like I'd never seen before, though its size rivalled that of old Lady Thorn's. "This place... Its right under Solitude! Its a vampire keep!"
"I've heard stories of this place, though I never thought I'd see it myself. This is Greymoor Keep. Home to an ancient order of vampires, though now I suspect that its full of Grey Host, instead." he replied, standing with me on the edge. It was a long way down...
"I'm sure there's some other way down in some other direction, but there's not really any time for that," I said, bracing myself and peering over. It was misty, too, which complicated things. If I "lifted" myself down with Telekinesis, I was unable to judge the bottom, which would complicate how I "pushed" against the surface to give myself that lift. The slurry in Valenwood was a few feet deep; after that, there was harder compost underneath which I used to propel myself and Cicero upward. "You go on down before me. I'll drop down afterwards."
He looked at me like I said I was going to commit suicide. "What? You couldn't survive that fall... you'll die at the bottom, and then where will I be, knowing that I let you fall to your death?"
I readjusted my pack. In addition to the new scroll, there were plenty of things inside that would help me in this latest of evil happenings. "You have your own way of transporting yourself, I'm sure," I replied, discreetly referring to his vampiric abilities. "I have a few, and one in particular that I will use here, as the mist obscures too much for me to use Telekinesis to float myself down." I smiled a little. "Besides, if the effect wears off just as I get to the bottom, I need someone down there who can patch me up."
He really looked as if he didn't like that idea, but I reassured him and he disappeared as he turned into a large "bloom" of dark red mist, as I figured he would be able to do. I took a deep breath (for both the Shout and my nerves; falling from an enormous cliff was always a nerve-wracking thing) and yelled, "Feim, Zii, Gron!" and jumped off.
As I suspected, the fall was a long one, and also as I suspected, the Shout wore off just a bare second after I landed. Fennorian was already there, looking at me, worried. I held up my hands. "See? Deep fall, just like I thought." I messed with my hair, which was blown about by my long fall. I glanced up ahead. The keep stood there, bathed in an odd, orange glow. This cavern was enveloped in it, actually, much unlike Blackreach above. Worry about that later. "You have a weapon on you?"
He shook his head. "I'm a scholar. I've been trained in some of the art of fighting when I joined House Ravenwatch, but... I'm not a fighter. I'm just not good at it."
I reached in my pack for a doll-sized crossbow and thimble-sized quiver of bolts. He furrowed his eyebrows at their size, before I chanted the incantation and they popped into normal size. His eyes got big. "Yeah, I got a ton of stuff in my pack this size or even less. You can bring a whole ton of stuff if you shrink it first, but that unfortunately makes it a whole lot easier to lose..." I handed him the crossbow, which was of the Dwarven variety. "This is an Enhanced Dwarven Crossbow. Its got extra torque to penetrate through armor more easily. Unlike standard bows, though, there's recoil, so shoot with it braced against your shoulder. Staggers enemies really well, even the biggest of them. Here." I handed him next the quiver of bolts. "Dwarven Bolts, too. Best kind you can get for the crossbows." He pulled the loop attached to the weapon over his chest, and I attached the quiver to his belt. He trembled when I touched his waist. "To cock the bow, stick the bolt in the groove and pull back the string until it is locked into the notch. Fire it by squeezing the lever underneath."
He took a deep breath. "I really hope I don't shoot you by accident. Would you ever forgive me, if I did?" he tried to smile.
I laid a hand on his cheek. "Of course I would. You'd have to spend more time with me, healing me, you know." My eyes sparkled.
His smile brightened, letting his breath out. "Yes... you could use some... healing after being shot with an arrow. I mean, a crossbow bolt."
I motioned with a jerk of my head. "Come on. Let's take the entrance. I feel like battering down their door."