Another day, another problem with those stiff-necked Mage-Guild nincompoops. I arrived, bright and early at the Mage Guildhouse only to have the same stuck-up, snooty Bretonian woman refuse me service again. This time I decided that she could go hang before I’d pay her a single Septim more than standard Guild-Guide fare. I have yet to decide what fate I shall deliver to the Mages Guild, but it will be complex, and horrible, and talked about for a thousand years.
So, instead of entrusting myself to their tender mercies, I stood in the centre of the Guildhouse and, with great delight, opened up a portal and stepped through into the dusty square of central Ald’ruhn. Delas Mrania had no qualms about dealing with me and sold me two additional Void Walk spells (one for the Ghostgate and one for Molag Mar) at a heavily discounted price. While she was preparing the spells for me, we spoke of several inconsequential things ~ including her supposition that the best Blacksmith in the whole of Vvardenfell can be found ‘Under Skar’: Dandra Selaro is his name. I didn’t argue with her, knowing little of the art other than it involves hitting lumps of hot metal with a big hammer. Still, if ever I need repairs to my armour, it’s worth bearing his name in mind.
Molag Mar is similar in construction to Vivec City, although it is about the size of one of the Cantons and the upper plaza is open to the air. There was a small, but very busy, market going on when I stepped onto the plaza ~ lots of bustling about and shouting. And, I noticed, several stern-faced Ashlanders standing in their own pools of silence: being scrupulously avoided by the jostling crowd.
The Proctor of the Temple in Molag Mar was a tall Dunmer by the name of Tharer Rotheloth. Unlike most members of the Temple I’d met, Rotheloth wore the hood of his cowled robe thrown back, revealing strong features with more than a hint of Ashlander in them. This was accentuated by the way he wore his hair, long in the back with a topknot ~ a style I’d seen on more than a few warriors in the Zainab and Ahemmusa camps. I got the impression that he wasn’t too keen on me, although he said and did nothing to reinforce that impression.
“So, you’re looking for suitable duties Ser, eh?” he asked when I’d introduced myself to him. “Hmmm, Sadri wouldn’t have sent you here unless you had already completed the Seven Graces. Well, since your feet have been set on Vehk’s Path, I think that I have just the duty for you.” He walked over to a small and cleverly designed chest ~ lifting the lid allowed the front to drop down: thus revealing several deep drawers. From the middle drawer he withdrew a small phial of bluish-white earthenware. “There is a Redguard in Tel Mora by the name of Lette,” he said, passing me the bottle. “She’s suffering from Swamp Fever and there is no Imperial Cult nearby that she can get to and no Temple. Take this potion to her and see that she’s all right.”
Travelling to Tel Mora was simplicity itself for me: I simply opened a portal from Molag Mar to Tel Vos and translocated. The small skiff that plies passengers back and forth between Vos and Tel Mora took me the rest of the distance.
“Why do you want to know?” the House guard asked when I quizzed him about Lette’s location. I looked up at his imposing height, allowing the weak sunlight to penetrate the shadows of my cowl. “Erm, sorry Sed Vahl, she’s over there, on the northern shore, do you want me to escort you?” he gabbled at speed.
Leaving him quivering at attention, I crossed the short stretch of water and approached the woman I could see sitting there. “Are you Lette?” I asked.
“Go away,” she said, not looking up. “Can’t you see I’ve got Swamp Fever?” Indeed, the large purplish splotches that marred her dark skin were clearly visible even from where I stood.
“I’m here to help,” I said, putting my hand under her elbow and lifting her to her feet. “If you have no objections, I have a potion here that will cure you.”
“Oh bless you Ser,” she said, “may ALMSIVI’s light shine on you.” Taking the potion, the Redguard drank deeply. In seconds the splotches had started to fade and her colour, which had been very pale, started to improve.
When I was sure that she’d recovered from the disease, I cast a Recall and returned to the Temple in Molag Mar. Rotheloth was pleased that I’d completed the mission so quickly and said, “I think that you should seek the blessings of Lord Vehk. It is common for those based here in Molag Mar to travel to Mount Kand and seek the shrine there.
“I must warn you, however,” he said, raising a hand as I started to turn away, “that many who visit the caverns of Mount Kand do not return.”
With that warning firmly in mind, I left Molag Mar and headed into the Molag Amur. Fortunately, the road to Mount Kand was clearly signposted and, while steep and often beset with Cliff Racers, it presented me with no great problem other than long stretches of boredom interspersed with frantic hacking and slashing at the annoying avian pests. Before long, the road curved northwards and upwards and I found myself in a wide gully that wended up the mountain side. Near the peak was a cavern door, the weathered sign outside proclaiming that this was ‘The Caverns of Kand’.
With no really clear idea of what to expect inside, I took out one of my torches and incanted a short spell that made it burst into flame. Torch in one hand and the Last Wish in the other, I pushed open the door and stepped into these mysterious caverns. It was a lucky thing that I had several torches in my pack, without one I’d have had to fumble my way through the pitch-black tunnels. Even with the torch providing a warm circle of flickering light, the passageway stretched ahead of me darkly.
I hadn’t gone too deep into the caverns when I became aware of a flickering light ahead. As I drew nearer to the source, I felt the temperature climbing slowly. A Fire Atronach stepped into the end of the passageway, effectively blocking it off. Even as I hefted my sword, it spoke:
CODE
A metal neither black nor red
As heavy as man's golden greed
What you do to stay ahead
With friend or arrow or steed.
I lowered my axe, aware that here was another of those little puzzles that it seems the Temple likes to set for pilgrims. Obviously I was intended to answer the riddle and a moment’s thought gave me the answer. “You may pass,” the Fire Atronach said, shimmering slightly in its own heat haze. Giving the creature a wide berth, I entered the next section of tunnel.
The tunnel wended deeper into the mountain side, a cold breeze coming from up ahead. As the shimmering blue light grew brighter and the air grew colder, the tunnel came to an abrupt end, a stone bridge led from the lip of the tunnel down to the floor of the chamber ~ a floor covered in a thick layer of ice. The reason for the ice was simple: a huge Frost Atronach stood in the very centre of the cave. Knowing what to expect, I clambered carefully down and approached it. In a voice like ice grinding on ice, the Atronach spoke:
CODE
If you lie to me I will slay you with my sword. If you tell me the truth, I will slay you with a spell.
This one was a tough one, the answer to the first riddle had been a simple play on words but this one was not. If I told the Atronach the truth, it would use its powers to blast me but, if I lied to it, it would use a sword to fight me. So, if I told it that it would kill me with a spell, I would be… no, wait, that wasn’t right. With a great sigh of relief I heard the Atronach respond, “That response is correct, you may pass,” when I gave it the answer.
I was prepared for the third Atronach, this one a glowering Storm Atronach. As I got close, it raised a massive rocky fist and grated:
CODE
My fellow Atronach, Zedias-soko, was slain. The Altmer claims the Dunmer is guilty. The Dunmer says the Khajiit did it. The Orc swears he didn't kill Zedias-soko. The Khajiit says the Dunmer is lying. If only one of these speaks the truth, who killed Zedias-soko?
Uh-oh. Let me see, the Altmer says the Dunmer did it but if he’s lying then the Dunmer definitely didn’t do it. But, if the Altmer is the one telling the truth, then the Dunmer did do it. The Dunmer says the Khajiit did it so, if he’s lying, the Khajiit didn’t do it: whereas, if he’s telling the truth, the Khajiit did. Erm, so if the Orc is telling a lie, then he did kill the Atronach but if he’s telling the truth, he didn’t. Now, if the Khajiit is lying, then the Dunmer is telling the truth but if the Khajiit is lying, then the Dunmer is also telling the truth. No, wait, that’s not right. Let’s approach this from a different angle.
If the Altmer is telling the truth, then the Dunmer is lying when he says the Khajiit did it; the Orc is lying when he swears he didn’t do it, and the Khajiit is lying when he says the Dunmer is lying. Now, if the Dunmer is the one telling the truth, the Altmer is lying when he says the Dunmer is guilty, the Orc is again lying when he swears he didn’t do it, and the Khajiit is lying when he says the Dunmer is lying. Ahh got it….
“You may pass and read the inscription on the shrine,” the Storm Atronach rumbled, turning away. With a huge sigh of relief, I followed the last few feet of tunnel to the now familiar stone plinth. This one bore no inscription but when I touched it I felt a massive jolt of power surge through me.
I returned to Molag Mar and persuaded Tharer Rotheloth to let me use one of the bunk beds for the night.
Food, Slave, Telvanni ~ Take your pick.
The Coalition of Evil Geniuses: Overlord of Boom