The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: The Hunter's Moons Options

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There was a hammering on my door this morn and, feeling a little bleary-eyed after last night’s festivities, I threw on a robe and went to see who was there. Outside stood a tall, fair-haired woman with brilliant blue eyes. She was carrying a huge pail, from which rose an appetising smell. Bobbing a curtsey, she stepped inside and walked to the table in the corner. Fetching a bowl from the shelf, she removed the cover from the pail and ladled a grey coloured gruel into the earthenware bowl. “Will ye be having the salt or the honey wi’ yer porridge?” she asked.

“Honey,” I replied, nonplussed. With a smile, she fetched a small wooden box from her apron and, opening it, she scraped a thick curl of honey from the comb inside and dumped it into the steaming gruel. Taking a spoon, I sat and tentatively tasted the stuff. The smell hadn’t lied ~ despite its unappealing appearance, the ‘porridge’ was very pleasant. A thick mixture of some grain and milk, boiled until it was thick and glutinous.

“I have messages for ye,” the woman said. With my mouth full, I indicated with my spoon that she should speak. “The Shaman wishes ye tae see, at your earliest convenience. An’ Snedbrir the Blacksmith has that you visit him asked.”

“Thank you…” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Anyanka,” she replied, blushing slightly before beating a hasty retreat. As the door shut behind her, I scraped the bowl clean of the last traces of its contents and sat back with a sigh. Since the blacksmith’s forge was closest to Rigmor’s… my house, I decided to visit there first.

“Bloodskaal,” Snedbrir said, setting down his hammer as I stepped into the workshop at the back of his hut. “I have for you something more fitting than the furs ye’re wearing.”

I noticed my Templar armour sitting on a bench. The blacksmith had hammered out the few dents it had picked up and polished it until it gleamed. This, however, was not what Snedbrir meant. Beside the forge was a form, a simple block of wood carved into the rough likeness of a human figure. Adorning this mannequin was a set of armour. Made of a silvery-coloured metal, the tiny interlocking rings glistened in the light of the forge. Elsewhere, beaten panels of solid metal had been worked into various designs ~ swirls and knots predominantly, but there was a scene on the shield that ~ on closer examination ~ showed a stylised Dunmer battling a wolf-like creature.

“My Gods, it’s beautiful,” I breathed as Snedbrir lifted the ring-mail cuirass from the wooden form and helped me into it. It was quite a bit heavier than the Templar armour, but not so heavy that it would cause me a problem. The shimmering links of chainmail flowed like heavy water as I moved. In addition to the long cuirass, there was a pair of greaves, a pair of boots, gauntlets, pauldrons, and a massive helm. The huge, square shield completed the equipment.

Clad in my Skaal armour ~ shield slung across my back in imitation of the Skaal guards, I stepped outside ~ slipping the short silver-blades that I seemed to have inherited into the sheaths that Snedbrir had affixed to the belt. I wished that I had a reflecting glass but the admiring glances of the guards as I walked passed them told me how good the armour looked. Korst seemed quite impressed as I stepped into his hut, nodding his approval.

“A true warrior o’ the Skaal ye now look,” he said. We sat, and Korst told me that he feared that Tharsten Heart-Fang had met a similar fate to Captain Falx Carius. I got the impression that Korst Wind-Eye knew far more about what was going on that he would, or was willing to, tell me. Worried that pressing for an answer might offend the Shaman; I listened as he detailed what needed to be done.

“Afore he went an’ vanished, Tharsten was tae speak wi’ ye about something that needed tae be done. Did he?” I shook my head and Korst sighed. “So, a ceremony there is that we need tae perform. This ceremony is called the Ristaag. I have my suspicions about the threat we’re facing but the Ristaag will confirm it. There is a wee problem. Afore we can the Ristaag perform, we have need o’ a token o’ the Skaal. ‘Tis a necklace, simple leather wi’ a wolf-fang an’ a bear-claw on it.

“‘T’will take a fierce warrior tae get the Totem from Skaalara,” he continued, “and 'tis you that I’m sure should go. It cannae be coincidence that ye here should arrive just as these strange events start tae happen…”

“If you’re implying…” I said, cutting across what he was saying. “…That I had anything to do with whatever is going on…”

“Whist,” he said, dismissing my interjection with a wave of his hand, “the cause o’ the events? I think not. But the trigger that started these events: aye that ye may be. An’ for that reason, ‘tis you who should fetch the Totem of Fang and Claw from Skaalara.”

“What events?” I asked. The Shaman sat, lost in thought for a moment, and then responded to my question.

“Some ~ the disappearance o’ Tharsten an’ your Captain Carius, the sudden appearance o’ so many werewolves, the flames on the open ice ~ ye ken already. Some, such as the unquiet dead, ye dinnae know anything about. There are others that I will nae discuss wi’ ye at this time. Others have not yet come to pass and, askin' the One’s favour, willnae.”

“Unquiet dead?” I asked.

“There have reports been,” he said, “o’ the walking dead near tae Telos Rin. I’m no convinced that these have anything tae do wi’ the Blood…” he stopped suddenly. “Anything tae do wi’ the problems we’re facing,” he concluded. “Ye may want tae look into it. Telos Rin is down by the coast, speak tae the caretaker if ye’ve a mind tae investigate.”

Finding Telos Rin wasn’t difficult, I just headed over the edge off the hill and down towards the shoreline. The caretaker was a thin Nord named Fjolfr Brown-Eyes. He seemed to think that there are catacombs below the tombs but he knew very little about the recent disturbances: in fact, he asked me to report back to him if I discovered anything about them. With Fjolfr’s blessing, I entered the dark Barrow that housed the tombs of the Skaal.

The Barrow was quite small, just four chambers branching off from the main entrance. In one of the chambers, I discovered a Dragon-Slayer blade ~ a heavy, two-handed sword of the sort favoured by the legendary warrior Kilgarn. Despite its unwieldy size, I took this ancient blade ~ even if I cannot use it, it will make an excellent addition to my growing collection of artefacts. In one of the side-tombs I discovered a hidden door that led down into the catacombs below the Barrow.

A short, snowy passageway hacked into the ice led down to another set of chambers. The grey stone walls stretched away in front of me, broken on the left by a passageway. Deciding to head down the short passageway, I quickly found myself in a central burial chamber. The mouldering corpse that had been chained to the pillar of stone directly opposite the entrance to the crypt gave me pause for thought ~ as did the note affixed to its grinning head:

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Be Warned:

All who seek their fortunes amongst the remains of the dead shall find only remorse.  I will no longer stand by and let my family's remains be pawed over by mere thieves.  Leave this place, and remove nothing, lest fate deal with you as it has those who've come before you.

Above all else - do not approach the resting places of these honored warriors.  

You have been warned.



Melos Rin

Son of Felos "Bear Kin"

6th Year Necromancer

Well, you might as well wave a sword at a Nordic warrior as put something like that on a note in a crypt. Any self-respecting thief, rogue, or adventurer is going to be compelled to examine the contents of the tomb after a warning like that. I was no exception. The fluttering banner identified the scattered bones in the first niche as Felos Bear-Kin. Arrayed by the shelf were some fur-covered armour (from the bear’s head helm I guess that this was bearskin), a large, double-headed Nordic axe, and a small stone chest. This stone box yielded up five ten-Septim pieces.

Since nothing untoward had happened when I’d taken the coins, I moved around the chamber to the second niche. The rotting banner identified these bones as having been one Kelos Keen-Eye. Now this was more like it: there was a demon-bound longbow, three pieces of armour, and a chest containing ten five-Septim pieces. Touching the box seemed to trigger some form of summoning spell, there was a clatter of bone behind me and I turned to face three skeletal warriors armed with axes.

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Something had been nagging at me all night and, as I sat and ate the porridge that Anyanka had served me, I thought hard ~ wracking my memories to find what it was that tasked me. I grinned as I put the spoon into the clean bowl: I knew what it was. When I’d spoken to Fjolfr Brown-Eyes at the graveyard, he’d said he looked forwards to speaking to Melos again. Yet, according to the note and belongings I found, Melos was actually using the catacombs as a base of operations ~ hence the tales of the restless dead.

I returned to Telos Rin and made my way down to the catacombs again. Searching much more carefully, I came across a small shield-shaped crest. This bore the same device as the ring that Fjolfr Brown-Eyes had given me yestere. More importantly, the shield was exactly the right size to fit into one of the rebates alongside the door to the ‘HALLOWED GROUNDS’. As I hoped, slotting the shield into place opened the door.

As befits the home of a necromancer, the area under the Telos Rin graveyard was crawling with resurrected creatures ~ skeletal bears, wolves, and Men. None of these posed much of a concern to me, although I have to admit that seeing the bulk of a skeletal bear rising up on its hind legs, rotting flesh handing from its bones, gave me pause for thought. Close to the entrance was a chamber, guarded by two skeletons, which had served as a base for Melos. It was in this small chamber that I began to get an inkling of what had transpired. There were many pages in the journal I discovered, but the most interesting were the ones that detailed Melos’ work in the catacombs. The two most pertinent passages read as follows:

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Day 3

Progress continues on my efforts to thwart these would-be grave robbers.  During the fortification process in the catacombs however, one of the rock walls gave way, exposing a much older sub-chamber.  I'm not sure why my ancestors felt it necessary to seal off this portion of the catacombs, but I intend to find out.

I have covered quite a bit of these subterranean caves, and removed most of the traps in the first three chambers.  I saw a glimpse of what might have been a field of some type.  I’ll resume my efforts in that chamber tomorrow.

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Day 4

Unfortunately, and quite ironically, I believe I have triggered one of my ancestor's many surprises, and released a creature that I have never seen the likes of before.

It is some sort of last defense guardian, but he won't submit to any of our family's enchantments.  I fear I will have no choice but to do battle with the beast.  Something I am not looking forward to as it managed to tear through three of my warriors in a matter of seconds.  Thankfully, that gave me enough time to teleport back to the entrance.

I shall remain here tonight, and think of a means of dealing with the creature in the morning.  I've set two of my best sentries as guards, and set a bone-hound at the entrance to the catacombs - nothing escapes their attention.  With any luck, I'll dispatch the beast, and continue with my plans for converting these caves into my own private sanctuary.

There were no entries following the one headed “Day 4”: making it fairly obvious that Melos had failed to gain control of the situation and had been killed by this ‘guardian’. Unhappy with the thought of such a creature so close to the Skaal village, I decided that I should investigate further and destroy it, if possible.

I followed the tunnels, climbing a steep ramp that led to a vast chamber. The bone-wolves proved to be no concern, falling easily before the Blodskal. “Erm,” a voice floated out of the darkness above me, “I dinnae wish tae be a bother, but if ye could see your way tae setting me free I’d be well pleased, ‘cause I dinnae fancy spending the rest o’ the winter TRAPPED IN THIS FREAKING CAGE!”

I clambered up the ladder and leapt across the gap between the two stone ledges, finally coming face to face with the speaker. It was a rather portly Nord with a swirl tattoo on his face. I examined the cage, the bars proving to be solid metal and quite impossible to break. “Look,” Melos said patiently, “I dinnae want tae try and teach ye your job, but do you no think I’ve not tried breaking down the bars? There’s a lever, in the main tomb, that’ll open them. But ye’ll have tae have a care, Akir is in there and he’s no an easy opponent.”

Promising Melos that I would return as quickly as I could, I made my way back down into the passages below and followed them around to the central crypt. There I met Akir, a Dremora lord. As is always the way, the creature attacked the instant it saw me and that aggressiveness proved to be my salvation. For, as Akir raced across the floor of the chamber, there were a series of titan crashes as bolts of energy shot up from various sections of the floor, causing the Daedra to roar in anger.

By keeping my back to the wall, I was able to force Akir to remain in the main part of the chamber ~ being continually shocked by the trapped floor, as I lashed out with the Blodskal repeatedly. Melos had been correct, Akir was a fierce opponent but the combination of my sword-blows and the powerful magical trap, and it didn’t take me too long to send the fiend howling back into the void.

By edging carefully around the perimeter of the chamber, I was able to come to the back of the room where the trap didn’t seem to function. There I discovered the lever that Melos had mentioned, pulling on it should have released the necromancer. I also found a double-bladed axe ~ the blade of which was enchanted with a very powerful spell that enhanced the strength of the bearer threefold.

Melos was suitably grateful that I had released him and seemed to understand when I warned him that I was no fan of necromancy and that I would take great exception if any of his experiments were to affect the Skaal. He laughed, telling me that his experiences at Telos Rin had soured him on the idea of living on Solstheim and that, as soon as he could pack his belongings away, he planned to return to Skyrim.

As I left the Telos Rin graveyard, the sky darkened and deposited a huge cloud of snow on the landscape. As the howling wind whipped the snow into an obscuring cloud, I quickly made my way back to the village. There, behind closed doors and shutters; I stoked the fire and rested.