@SubRosa: I see you picked up on the Count’s purpose to his questions. I’m conflicted about his character in the game. On the one hand I liked how he treated my NPC’s during the Allies for Bruma quest, especially once I completed the Wayward Knight; on the other hand I didn’t like his personal habits (skooma party, wastrel ways, etc). So I can’t decide if I respect him or not. The others are much easier for me to make that decision. That conflict is something I do intend to explore in the future - he has a fascinating potential.
@Acadian: Yes, I’ve tried to pin Julian down on whether Falcar fled Cheydinhal because he recognized our implacable
pilus, or because Deetsan had confronted him. Julian’s not telling.
@mALX: I couldn’t resist one last dig at the overblown hubris that is our beloved Dunmer heir. I think it is something he will never lose, no matter how much he matures in the future.
@Destri: I always felt that Deetsan would make a wonderful Chapter head because of her compassion for her fellow mages. And yes, the way the secondary NPC’s react (or fail to react) to significant events is one of the most irritating things about TES IV - more irritating than the aforementioned Dunmer heir.
@Remko: Falcar had better hope that Julian doesn’t join the hapless battlemages outside Silorn! And you’re right, Chillrend (from The Killing Field) is another blue blade.
@treydog: So you agree with my decision to show only the end of the Cheydinhal recommendation. I think almost everyone has done that quest, or at least heard about it. It is one of my least favorite quests in the game just because of Falcar’s abuse of his position of power. Argh! I’m so with Julian on that one.
On her way south, Julian finally resolves the Virtuous Blood case.
*********************
Chapter 18.4 Memorial CaveAfter I double-checked the area around the cave, I let Paint loose. He remained where I left him, in front of the boarded-up entrance. After I worked a couple of planks loose, I managed to create an opening large enough for me to squeeze through.
Phintias had told me that he overheard Seridur talking about traveling to Memorial Cave on occasion. It was the best lead I had to Seridur, since he had disappeared from his home. Neither Grey-Throat nor Norvalo knew where he had gone.
Since the cave did not promise ideal conditions for archery, I strapped
Daedra Slayer to my back, and my plain katana at my side, leaving my bows and quiver attached to Paint’s saddle.
The cave was typical as such places go - damp, chilly, and dark. Occasional torches warned me that something other than animals used the caverns. Working my way down the passage, I came to an intersection of two hallways. The one ahead of me brought me the smell of decayed flesh and a cool draft. The other, to my right, led up into darkness, and gave me no clue what lay beyond.
In the lower passage, I found coffins broken open, some empty, some filled with scattered bones and rotting tissue. Ahead, I heard the panting of a canine. I sought the shadows against the wall, where a clump of boulders shielded me from the open space in front of me. With pink energy in my mind’s vision, I lifted my left hand in a detect life spell. Less than three meters away, the large form of a timber wolf materialized in the gloom. His panting stopped at the same time.
Cacat! He heard me! The pink glow started stalking toward my hiding place as a soft growl preceded him. When the spell faded away, I drew my katana. In the dim glow from the distant torch, I could see the shadow pass my hiding place. My breath stopped, I waited until he had moved a few steps away from me toward the passage I had just come down. As I crept toward him, I readied the katana for a stab into his side. A stone turned under my foot, and the wolf whipped around, leaping straight for my face.
As I ducked down, I raised my left hand and caught the fur of his throat in my grasp. The force of his attack bowled me over onto my back, but I kept my left arm stiff. Because of my hold on his pelt, he could not reach me with his teeth. Keeping him at arm’s length exposed his soft underbelly to me, and I took advantage of it. My longsword fell to the ground, and I drew my dagger. Blood and intestinal contents splashed onto my greaves before I could kick his body off my small blade.
On my knees, I looked forward and back, listening for other enemies. Silence met my ears, and I sheathed the dagger, picking up my katana. I retreated back to my hiding place and cast another detection spell. No pink glows this time. The range of my spell was limited, but it allowed me to see what was near.
Further down the passageway, I entered a misty cavern.
I must be below the level of the lake, I realized, looking at the thick vapor covering the floor. A soughing noise drew my attention to the left side of the cavern.
Ghost! Damn! My plain katana would be useless against it. Putting the katana away, I drew
Daedra Slayer and crept forward, feeling my way across the uneven ground toward the undead. It turned around, facing my direction. I dropped down into the fog bank, but the ghost appeared to have missed me. It floated past me, so close I could feel the cold death emanating off the spirit. Crouched, I took a long step behind it and stabbed with the enchanted blade. Fire consumed the ghost, as it dissolved into a blob of ectoplasm on the floor.
I scooped up some of the ectoplasm into an empty vial.
It’ll make a good poison. I secured the bottle and placed it back in my pouch. Still on my knee, I listened for a few moments more and was rewarded by footsteps off to the right of the cavern.
Boots. Not bones, creature or ghost. I replaced
Daedra Slayer at my back, and started moving toward the sound, my own booted feet silent on the stone floor.
When I was close enough to hear the breathing, the other stopped, turning slowly. I could see the slender form of a Breton in the faint torch light. “Who’s there?” she called softly, her voice sensuous. “Wolf? I can smell you. Why did you come down here, boy?”
I realized she could smell the blood and guts from the wolf, splattered on my greaves. With a frown I wondered how she could scent it with the damp air and the overpowering stench of decay.
“What did you catch, wolf?” she whispered, moving slowly toward me. I remained still. “Did you leave me some?” The short hairs on the back of my neck rose as I listened to her voice. “Come here, boy,” she whistled. “Ah, I can smell you, so close now,” she sighed, stepping into the torch light.
My eyes widened at the sight of the glittering fangs in the woman’s mouth, and I stifled the gasp in my throat.
Vampire! She stopped, her eyes arrowing at me, where I hid in the shadows. “You!” she hissed. “Where is my pet?”
Concentrating on a ball of fire, I flung my most basic fireball spell at her. It wouldn’t be strong enough to disable her, but that was not my intention.
Domina Incendia would be so much more effective, and a better use of my magicka. But I needed time and distance to call my atronach.
As soon as the flames left my fingers, I flung myself to the right, rolling behind some boulders. My eyes closed, I pictured the voluptuous daedra into being. The purple flare and swooshing sound told me my spell was successful, and I kept moving. While
Domina Incendia flung fireballs at the Breton vampire, I sheathed my plain katana and pulled
Daedra Slayer from my back.
Domina Incendia did her job and kept the Breton occupied long enough for me to move up behind her. A stab into the back of her thigh was sufficient to finish off the vampire.
Thank Akatosh Martin used the fire damage sigil stone on this, I thought as the corpse shriveled rapidly into dust. I searched her remains, taking some of the fine ashy powder. A ring was in her purse, a silver circle that glowed with a faint blue gleam. I slipped it on my right ring finger, curious to see what the enchantment was.
The dark cavern flashed into clear vision, only everything was
blue. Disoriented, I blinked and looked around, amazed at the clear detail I could see.
Night eye. Only problem, I can’t see my shadows. In places like this, I had learned the hard way to maximize the dark places to my advantage. Still, the ring would be useful to reconnoiter new areas before moving into them. I spotted another cavern opening off of this one, and another form moving about near a bright glow that must be a fire. The ring back in my palm, I found my shadows and returned to them, moving on.
In this manner, using a combination of detection spells and the enchanted ring, I was able to locate several vampires moving through the passageways and chambers of the cavern.
Domina Incendia and
Daedra Slayer kept busy keeping those despicable creatures away from me, taking advantage of the vampire’s intrinsic weakness to fire.
Finally, in the last chamber I searched, I found the whole point of this expedition. The tall Altmer, clad in Elven armor, paced restlessly around a pile of shattered coffins and decaying body parts. After a quick scan of the cavern revealed no other enemies nearby, I straightened up and stepped out of the shadows. Seridur stopped and turned in my direction.
“Hello, Seridur,” I spoke quietly.
“I knew you didn’t have it in you to slay Jenseric,” the Altmer sneered at me, drawing a Dwarven claymore. “So I’ll have to kill you, then find Jenseric and do it myself.”
“You lied to me,” my left fingers twitched, heat building up in them concurrently with my anger. “Jenseric is no vampire.” My blood boiled as I thought of how Seridur had used me to do his dirty work, just as he had framed an innocent man for the death of his prey.
Seridur shrugged nonchalantly, then dashed to my left, faster than my eye could follow. I flung myself forward in time to avoid his lunge at me. My hurled flare missed, but made him flinch. That gave me time to call on
Domina Incendia once more. She ran after Seridur, sending more powerful fireballs sailing everywhere. He was very fast, but my atronach managed to keep him away from me long enough for me to slide to the wall.
Risky maneuver, cutting down on my mobility. But I’ve got to cover my back somehow. I can’t let Seridur get behind me. The Altmer was amazingly fast and agile. He managed to duck every one of Domina Incendia’s fire spells, and when she faded away, he turned on me. I waited,
Daedra Slayer ready, until he was within blade range, then feinted a stab. When he side-stepped to my left, I turned the stab into a swing.
I’ve only to contact him with the blade - the fire enchantment will slow him down. But he’s got the reach on me. Watch that claymore. It can crush my bones through my mail easy.The large Dwarven blade blocked my lighter enchanted katana, and Seridur flicked it away easily. The finely wrought steel of my sword sang discordantly as I tried to recover. That claymore rose, then descended towards me in a blur of motion. Leaping away from the wall, I spun into Seridur’s body and kicked him hard on the instep.
His breath hissed, and he staggered back. I moved with him to stay within the arc of his blade, and reversed my grip on the hilt of
Daedra Slayer to slice into his thigh. Fire bloomed along the blade, fed on his flesh.
Seridur screamed, and elbowed me away. I landed on my back, sliding into a stalagmite hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs. A couple of ribs snapped in the middle of my back. Seridur followed, limping from the burning wound in his left thigh, and changed his grip on the claymore so it was pointing down, at my chest.
With a groan, I leveraged myself off the rock spire and slid sideways, backhanding the enchanted blade into his right thigh. As the blade pulled clear I avoided the descending claymore and spun back to stab my weapon into Seridur’s groin. A wrench of the tip of the burning sword managed to sever the large blood vessel in the inner thigh. Fire and blood sprayed out of the wound, the burning liquid splashing across my face. Turning away, I wiped frantically at it.
Cacat! Nearly got in my eyes! Almost as quickly as it had burned, the fire went out, leaving my left cheek hot with pain.
As I whirled around, I saw Seridur collapse into a pile of ash, his claymore clattering against the stalagmite before falling to the ground. I stayed on my feet for a few seconds more, before I, too, fell down, shaking as my natural adrenaline drained away.
This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Oct 7 2010, 05:48 PM