Clark in Skyrim, A continued report from across the border. Options

[ghastley]

If mALX is back, then Clark should return too.

We left him in Evergloam at the beginning of the 4th Era, where Nocturnal had just inducted him and Minx as Nightingales, to join Dralsi. The two other members of the first trinity had been slain by Ogrim the Restless, who was the original occupant of the cave complex that became the Twilight Sepulchre.

He's about 225 years old now. Nocturnal and Azura made him immortal, rather than risk having to train a new one. He retired as a Nightingale some time ago, and went back into business managing brothels, and other enterprises that remain profitable in times of war. Much of the other intervening history should emerge as this unfolds.

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Part 1 - Over the border

"So Gilda, have you been into Skyrim before?" Clark asked the young woman sitting next to him. Ahead of them, the horse plodded onward, pulling Clark's carriage along the road towards Helgen. He gave the reins a jiggle, but the horse's gait didn't change. It only knew slow and steady.

Gilda wasn't really paying attention. She was busy looking at the scenery, which is why Clark had asked. "Oh, what? No, I barely got a mile from our farm before now. Mother didn't like me wandering off; she was scared I'd run into bandits."

"Is that how your nose got broken?" Clark guessed.

"Yes, the one time I did get away, she turned out to be right. When the bandits found out I didn't have anything valuable, they ... well, you can imagine what they had in mind. I gave the first one who tried anything my knee, and he did that in return. The others didn't stop me when I ran off, they were too busy laughing at our discomfort."

"How long ago was that? It looks like it's been that way for a while."

"About five months, I think. One day was much like another at our farm, and I lost track of time. I can't thank you enough for getting me away from there."

Clark wasn't sure what had made him offer to take her with him. He did need a new apprentice, that was true, but why he'd suddenly decided it could be her was beyond him. It wasn't her looks, for certain. Apart from her nose, she had crooked teeth, and looked like she never ate anything. Her mother was the exact opposite, so it was clear where all the food went in that household. She was wearing one of her mother's hand-me-down dresses, which fit her like a sack.

But he'd stopped at the farm for directions when he left Bruma, and she'd caught his eye. Before he knew it, he'd told her mother she could have a good career as a merchant's apprentice, hinting that she might be able to send some of her earnings home.

And if she'd persuaded him to do that, she probably had some speech talent, so she might work out well. He'd need to heal her nose, and fix her teeth first, and that would need more magicka than he had. Once he got to Whiterun, he'd be able to use the Alchemy lab at his house to make some fortification potions, but until then he couldn't do anything.

"We'll be in Helgen before long," he told her. "It's just over there, where you can see the smoke rising..." Clark's voice trailed off, as he realised that there shouldn't be that much smoke. Something had apparently set part of the town on fire, if not all of it.

They soon met a ragged bunch of imperial soldiers coming the other way, telling of a dragon attack on the town. Clark didn't think there were any dragons in Tamriel.

"Nor did we, until that one swooped down on us," the legionary told him. "We were preparing an execution for Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his men, when it was interrupted by a blast of magic. Threw everyone around like dolls. We'd heard that Ulfric could use the Thu'um like that, so we had him gagged, but a beast that size doing it was something else entirely."

"General Tullius and the Thalmor Ambassador were there too," one of the other men put in. "We have no idea if they got out."

Nobody knew if it was safe to try passing through. There were trails to Falkreath that might be preferable, as long as you weren't hauling anything heavy.

"But watch out for bandits if you go that way," another soldier advised. "That applies any time you leave the main roads in Skyrim."

Clark had heard much the same from legionaries in Cyrodiil. In his opinion, the roads weren't any safer than any other route, just better paved. He let his horse continue down the road.

Helgen was deserted when they got there. Most of the population seemed to be lying dead in the streets, scorched by the dragon's breath. Anyone alive had presumably fled, and the dragon itself was nowhere around. Clark decided to continue down into Riverwood and let them know what had happened. If the dragon didn't attack there next, of course.

---

Riverwood was intact, but they'd seen the dragon fly over. Gerdur, the mill-owner, told Clark that her brother Ralof had escaped from Helgen, and she thought that Hadvar, the legionary from the town, had too. Ralof had brought a stranger with him, and she'd gone on to Whiterun to warn the Jarl.

Clark knew from his earlier trips that Ralof was a Stormcloak, and he asked Gerdur if he'd been one of the men the soldiers had mentioned as due for execution. Ralof hadn't mentioned that part, just that he'd escaped from the dragon. But now it made sense why Hadvar had been there at the same time. "I'll make sure Ralof stays well hidden," she told Clark.

She turned back to what she'd been doing when they arrived. "When the dragon flew over, I was so startled, I dropped this firewood I'd just split in the river. I was trying to dry it out with a flare spell, but it looks like I'll just have to split some more."

"There's an easier way, you know," Clark told her. He took one of the pieces of firewood and stood it on a stump. "Cast a frost spell on it," he told Gerdur. She did so, until Clark told her to stop. "Now dispel the ice"

Gerdur didn't know that spell, so Clark taught it to her. "Now try the flare."

The wood caught immediately, and she quickly dispelled the flames. "I hardly used any magicka doing that. It was a lot easier than the way I was trying."

"Right, especially as the frost comes easily to you. Here, I'll help you finish these."

"You make it look so easy," Gerdur told him. "Are you sure you're an Imperial, not a Breton?"

"It's all practice, not magicka reserves," he told her. "It looks easy because I'm using less magicka than you would. Just like you know how to roll a log instead of doing it the hard way by lifting. But some spells are beyond my normal reach. That's why I have to wait until I get to Whiterun before I can heal Gilda's nose."

Gerdur noticed Gilda for the first time. "I can help her with a good meal, and you too. I owe you for that firewood trick."

"I hoped you might. Cooking is where you show your skill."

---

"Looking at her, I expected she had no appetite," Gerdur whispered to Clark. "But she's on her third helping of the stew already."

Clark told Gerdur that he suspected her mother had been starving her. Whether that was to keep her thin, or just because the mother ate all the food, he didn't know, but the mother was really fat. "She didn't think enough of Gilda to get her teeth straightened, so I doubt she had any positive feelings for her."

"If Gilda eats like that all the time, she might take after her," Gerdur warned.

"I don't expect she will. I'll get Lydia to look after her, and she'll keep her fit, not fat."

Lydia was Clark's housecarl in Whiterun. She'd been part of the deal when Jarl Balgruuf made Clark a Thane of the city, for his services to its people. He'd forgotten what he'd done for them; nothing major, just a lot of small things that added up. And the Jarl had noticed his effect on the local economy. Even the Khajiiti caravan that camped outside the gates seemed to be more prosperous after Clark had arrived.

They'd be at his house, Breezehome, by the end of the day, if there weren't any problems on the road.

---

"Oh, It's you, Thane," the guard at the gate knew Clark, even if he didn't know the girl. "Is she with you? I have orders to keep strangers out, with dragons sighted in the area."

Clark vouched for Gilda, and the guard opened the gate for them.

"That's a new development," Clark remarked. "The only ones not allowed in before were the Khajiit traders. They have an unjustified reputation as thieves. Well, maybe it's partly justified, but they're not the worst. They just have a more sharing attitude to property than the Nords are accustomed to, and it's often misinterpreted."

---

"What have you got in the sack?" Lydia asked.

"That's not a nice thing to say," Clark admonished. "Even if that is a good description of her outfit. This is Gilda, my new apprentice, and we'll be exchanging that 'sack' for something better-fitting as soon as we can. She's about your height, so is there something in the wardrobe she can try on?"

"You know I only keep a few changes of armour. If you're looking for a dress, you're probably out of luck."

"Leather armour might be more comfortable, if it fits."

Gilda took a look in the wardrobe, but there weren't any dresses, and the leather was loose, even with the straps tightened all the way. She put the "sack" back on, and tied the string back around her waist.

"We have to go to Belethor's in the morning anyway. We'll find you something then. Come out to the back room while I brew up some potions, and then I'll see what I can do about your nose," Clark told her.

Lydia was already back at the cookpot, stirring up some food. She could see that the poor girl needed feeding, even if Clark couldn't.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Oct 2 2014, 07:52 PM

[ghastley]

Acadian: Vicuña's a high-ranking official of the Guild, so she tries to be mindful of their interests.

Brelyna's hairstyle will be seen and remarked on next time Clark meets her. She'll have to venture out of Winterhold to continue the College quest line, and their paths will cross again. Brelyna will also meet the Dragonborn, once I've tied in that part.

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Previously: Enthir translated Gallus' journal, with the help of some text that Gilda obtained from Cancelmo's laboratory in Markarth. They met Brelyna, who'd discovered the Eye of Magnus in Saarthal, and then returned to Riften.

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Part 18 - Riftweald Manor

Gilda came back to Honeyside, after she'd met with the Guild. "Karliah persuaded Brynjolf and Delvin to use their two keys to check the vaults, and they were empty, like you expected. Mercer couldn't have opened them alone, without the Skeleton Key, so that helped prove his guilt. And they believed me when I told them he'd tried to kill me. So we have the Guild behind us, but we don't know where Mercer went."

"Brynjolf wants me to break into Riftweald Manor. Mercer bought the place some time back, and now it looks like he used the Guild's funds to do it. He's got it sealed up tight, and guarded by some goon called Vald. There may be others inside, but we don't know for sure."

"We'll all go, just in case," Clark decided. That included Iona, but not Karliah, who had gone to try and contact Nocturnal. There was a shrine not too far from Riften that might let her do that.

Clark managed to persuade Vald that Mercer needed him in Markarth, and that they'd keep watch on the place in his stead. That only got them into the grounds, and the door at the back was just as locked and barred as the one at the front. "Do you have a bow?" Clark asked Iona. She nodded.

"Try and hit that mechanism up there under the balcony," Clark asked her. "I think it will release the ramp, and then we can try the door up there."

With a loud clatter, the ramp dropped, and they all ran up to the balcony. "I'm sure, if there's anyone in there, that they know we're coming. Be careful when I open the door."

Clark raised a ward before he did so, and they all stepped in after him. Iona still had her bow at the ready, and the first of the bandits inside was well-pierced before he could reach them. The second, however was close behind, and untouched by arrows. Gilda stepped forward and swung a dark blade at the man. The single blow dropped him, much to Clark and Iona's surprise.

"What's that enchanted with? And where did you get it?"

"Karliah gave it to me. She called it a Nightingale Blade, and it absorbs health and stamina, as well as being a pretty good sword. It looks like Ebony to me, but it has this special insignia on it, so it looks a bit different from a regular ebony sword."

"Do you know how to recharge an enchanted weapon?" Clark asked.

"With a soul gem? Yes, but I don't have many of those, and most are empty. How do you fill them?"

"You need a soul trap spell to do that. It's better to have it enchanted on the weapon, but only a real expert can put more than one enchantment on anything. If that blade has both absorb health and absorb stamina already, it was either enchanted by a powerful mage, or Nocturnal herself."

"Your sword has fire and soul trap together, doesn't it?" Gilda asked. "Did someone else enchant it for you?"

"No, actually there's a single enchantment that does both. I was lucky enough to find another weapon with it, and learned the enchantment from that. If you have a dagger, I could put it on that, and you'd have a way to capture souls, and it would still be a decent weapon."

Gilda wasn't sure. She preferred to use one hand for a blade and the other for spells, and to capture a soul would mean using a blade in each hand.

"But that's only when you need one," Iona pointed out. "If you find enough filled gems, you won't have to. I'd take it as a backup. You never run out of things until you need them."

"Good point, and a dagger's light enough to make little difference."

They continued into Riftweald Manor, looking for clues to where Mercer might have gone. They found nothing in the house, until Clark remarked. "Why aren't there any shelves in this cupboard?"

He felt around the back panel, until he suddenly triggered a hidden switch, and the back slid aside. There was a passage behind the cupboard, leading down to the cellar. Nothing was there, but the passage continued further, towards the temple next door, and the back entrance to the Guild.

"I suspect this passage will be trapped," Clark told the others. "Watch out for them, and any ways to turn them off."

"Pressure plate on the floor!" Iona pointed. They all skirted that without issues, but the floor ahead had a different kind. Iona had seen those before, too. "If you step on the wrong one, it will blast flames up at you," she told them.

"Mercer must have crossed this before" Gilda reasoned. "Look for the ones that are worn or dirty from footprints." Clark went first, partly from chivalry, and partly because he was immortal. He found the right path, and they followed.

The next trap was pendulum blades. Timed sprinting got them past those. Finally they reached a small room, with a desk and some shelves. Among the papers on the desk were some plans and a note. A bust of the Grey Fox stood at the back of the desk, next to a case containing a sword. The sword looked like a glass shortsword, but the blade was blue, and glowed slightly. Clark had seen it before.

"That's Chillrend," he told them. "I haven't seen that since the Champion of Cyrodiil showed it to me, a couple of centuries ago. It has a nasty frost enchantment, if I remember correctly."

He handed it to Iona. "I have fiery soul trap on my sword, Gilda has the Nightingale blade, so I think you need something better than your plain steel."

Iona's eyes widened. She'd never had a weapon like this before. "But what do I have to do to deserve this?"

"Just use it wisely," Clark replied. The way Gilda was looking at him, that's all he could have said.

Just around the next corner was a hole in the floor. Gilda dropped down to find herself in the Ratway. "Come on down, you don't have to go back past the traps this way," she told the others.

Gilda headed to the Ragged Flagon, and Clark and Iona went the other way, back to the canal entrance, and on to Honeyside.

---

"Gilda's taking her time, isn't she?" Iona remarked, and as if on cue, she stepped through the door.

"I need to go with Karliah and Brynjolf to petition Nocturnal for her help," she told them. "Karliah seems to think Brynjolf and I are good candidates to be Nightingales, to replace Gallus and Mercer. Mercer may not be dead, yet, but he's clearly no longer a Nightingale."

"What do you need us to do?" Iona asked.

"Nothing yet. I'll know more once we've spoken with Nocturnal. The Ebonmere may be closed, but Karliah thinks she can still reach Nocturnal through the shrine at Nightingale Hall."

"I need to go over to Mistveil Keep and arrange to have the Honeyside basement furnished," Clark added.

"Once we have Alchemy and Enchanting stations, I can show Iona how to use them, and make you that dagger I promised."

"I thought you'd wait to do that until we got back to Whiterun, but it makes sense to have the capability here as well. Does Lydia use the equipment in Breezehome?"

"She certainly makes her own health potions," Clark replied. "But we don't have our own enchanting lab there, remember?"

"Who's Lydia?" asked Iona.

"Clark's favourite bedmate, except for Vicuña, and the two of us." Gilda replied. "She's his housecarl in Whiterun. For all I know, he has one in each of the other cities, too. Maybe not Markarth; he has a whole brothel there."

"I'm only Thane here and in Whiterun," Clark clarified. "I've visited all the cities, and significant towns, of Skyrim, but those are the only places where I've had any significant business dealings. I've been avoiding Solitude and Windhelm because of the Civil War, and Falkreath, Winterhold, Morthal and Dawnstar don't have traders that deal in the same goods that I do."

"Belethor deals in Ivory, so I go to Whiterun a lot, and I came to Riften because of Karliah. I've dealt with the East Empire Company at the Solitude Docks, but rarely needed to go up into town."

Gilda had to leave, and go meet Karliah outside town. She didn't know where this Nightingale Hall was, so Karliah and Brynjolf were taking her there.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Jan 14 2015, 10:08 PM