CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR: SAVING RAVEN ROCK
Exploration of Raven Rock the next day led Wyldfyre and Azaril to an ancient stone structure that stood southwest from the settlement. Wyldfyre had made some astonishing and exciting discoveries that morning. The first one was from the Smith. She had approached him and asked if he could make her some more crossbow bolts. The first time he spoke to her she recognised his voice but she couldn’t think of why.
“Do I know you?” she said to him as he examined the bolt in his large Smith’s hands.
“Can’t say that I do love” he said “I would have remembered a stunning lass like you” he gave her a wink and placed the bolt on a workbench, measuring it with his hands. Wyldfyre moved around to the other side to watch what he was doing.
“Your voice, it’s just so familiar” she squinted at him “Now that I look at you, you even look familiar. Do you have family in Skyrim?”
“Well yes I do as a matter of fact. My err.. brother Delvin, lives in Riften”. Wyldfyre’s face broke out into a grin.
“Oh! Delvin Mallory! I know him; he’s a good friend of mine.” The smith straightened up and smiled also.
“Is that so? How is the old sod? Still a sneaky scoundrel living down in that sewer?” he laughed.
“He is, to both” Wyldfyre laughed to. “He helped me in a time of trouble. He’s not a bad guy”
“Indeed he is not” The smith nodded sombrely, making Wyldfyre wonder what had suddenly changed his mood. Then he stuck out his hand and Wyldfyre shook it. “Glover Mallory’s the name. You need anything while you’re here, just name it”
“Thank you Glover. For the moment, all I need is some more of those” she pointed to the bolt.
“This should be no problem at all. I’ll even give you Guild rates” he winked. When Wyldfyre questioned him about Miraak a confused expression filled his face.
“Miraak.. can’t say that I... wait, no I do remember that name, but how?” he shook his head then continued working on the bolt. Wyldfyre looked at Azaril who shrugged. They then made their way to the stone structure. Azaril explained what it was while they walked along the shore line.
“There are six of them here on Solstheim..I think. They are known as the Sacred Stones or the All-Maker Stones” Wyldfyre stopped, placing a hand on his arm.
“The All-Maker Stones?” she asked, excitedly.
“The name familiar to you my Lady?”
“Yes, yes! The All-Maker was my people’s deity. The All-Maker is the source of all life and creation. Azaril, why are stones on Solstheim connected to me and my people? Who built them?”
“I don’t really know. But I think they are connected to the tribe I told you about. The Skaal. They are an ancient Nordic race that stayed behind on the Island after it was handed over to the elves. They live and breathe tradition. Do you think your village were Skaal?”
“It does seem more and more so my friend” they continued walking to the stone, Wyldfyre now more eager than ever to find the Skaal tribe. As they approached the structure, she immediately sensed something was wrong. An evil presence emanated from the stone, drawing her in. She resisted as hard as she could. A few dark elves were working on the stone; their movements odd and mechanical.
“What are they doing?” she frowned. The Dunmer appeared to be in some sort of trance as they worked away, hammering at the rock. They didn’t appear to be building anything, just tapping at the stone and muttering.
“I was never really privy to what Miraak and his higher priests were doing My Lady” Azaril replied, embarrassed. “What I do know is that somehow Miraak draws people to these stones and sort of brainwashes them.. like I was” he shifted uncomfortably.
“You mean this is happening at the other stones all over the island?” she asked her eyes widening in horror. “These poor people! We have to help them Azaril!” Wyldfyre rushed forward to the nearest dunmer, a female wearing miners clothing. She tapped at the stone with a small iron hammer.
“Hey” Wyldfyre shook the dunmer’s arm “Wake up!”
“Here in His Shrine..” the dark elf muttered. She looked at Wyldfyre but her eyes were unseeing. Wyldfyre shook her again.
“Miss, you have to wake up, get away from this stone! Azaril help me!” she cried over her shoulder. But Azaril stayed put.
“It’s no use My Lady” he sadly shook his head.
“Now through Him do we see” the woman continued on with her stoic muttering, devoid of any sort of emotion. Wyldfyre tried to rouse the other helpless slaves but none of them even acknowledged her presence. She finally stood back with Azaril, defeated.
“It’s no use. I can’t even get a reaction from them. We have to find another way to break the stone’s hold on them.”
“I was trying to tell you My Lady” Azaril said gently. Wyldfyre nodded and they reluctantly turned back towards Raven Rock. As they walked along the shore Wyldfyre was thoughtful.
“That girl, the miner? Did you know her?”
“Indeed I do” Azaril nodded sadly. “Her name is Bralsa Drel. She was once a lady of great riches here in Raven Rock, but then when the mine closed she fell on hard times. Took it badly I’m afraid and drank most of her fortune away. It’s tragic what has happened to her”
“The mine is closed?”
“Yes, there was some sort of accident in there and the East Empire Company closed it down. So far they have refused to re-open it, even though it’s this town’s primary livelihood. The whole town has suffered greatly, not just poor Bralsa.”
“Why can’t they re-open the mine?”
“I don’t think they
can’t so to speak. I just don’t think they could be bothered sending someone out here to investigate the incident, give the go ahead to re-open and get this town back on its feet”
“It just doesn’t seem right; having a whole town go to ruin.” She stopped at the beginning of the market square. Venders sat outside their squat little houses selling their wares, desperate for any coin they could rake in. Wyldfyre’s heart went out to them. She had the strongest feeling she needed to help them. To rid the island of its slavery under this Miraak and his minions, and to get their mine opened.
“Right then” she made up her mind. “Azaril, show me to this mine. It’s time something got done about this”
“Yes My Lady!” Azaril grinned.
*****
Raven Rock mine was like any other; deep, dark and treacherous. Wyldfyre and Azaril had found the mine deserted except for an old Imperial miner and his Dunmer wife. After a lot of talking, Wyldfyre had found out that the accident in question involved the old man’s Great Grandfather. She was surprised at first that the accident had happened so long ago, but then realised that dealing with the Dunmer, an Elvin race that aged considerably slower than other folk, time was not really relevant. The old Imperial, Crescius, was convinced that his kin had met with foul play when he was sent by the East Empire Company to investigate some old ruins the miners had stumbled upon.
Wyldfyre and Azaril had descended into the depths of the mine, crawling through half collapsed tunnels and even fighting off a small nest of frostbite spiders. When they unlocked the gate that had for so long barred the way they found themselves inside a Nordic ruin.
“Curious” Azaril commented as they made their way further into the ruins, encountering Draugr and the usual traps of the Nordic ruin. Wyldfyre was beginning to wonder why all the Draugr were awakened again. It usually meant something big was at the end. She voiced her concerns to Azaril. He gripped his sword tighter and puffed out his chest a little, trying to look impressive.
“Don’t fear My Lady. I can protect you from whatever evil lurks in these depths” Wyldfyre had to hide a smile as the young Dunmer strode forward. The going was somewhat difficult, the draugr in the ruin eager to face their living enemies. Both Wyldfyre and Azaril were at times hard pressed. Wyldfyre in particular had a hard time not succumbing to her beast instincts and changing into her Were form. She used her shouts whenever possible, especially against a more formidable foe. She was still astonished that all of the shouts she knew had been amplified ever since her fight with Alduin in Sovngarde. She had to be careful now where she directed such shouts for fear of hitting Azaril.
Finally after what seemed an eternity to Wyldfyre or a mere blink of the eye to Azaril, they stepped out onto a ledge that overlooked a massive subterranean chamber. The sides of the chamber were levelled by strange black blocks that jutted upwards and down below a small river cut across the middle of the chamber. At the far end was a man made dais that looked to have an intricate stone carving on the back wall. The two friends hopped from rock to rock and descended into the chamber. As they neared the dais they discovered the fate of Crescius’s kin. Now a mere skeleton, Gratian Caerellius lay on a rotted bedroll, a mouldy old journal in his skeletal fingers. Wyldfyre and Azaril read the journal and they were both reverently quiet for a time.
“Well I guess this journal proves Crescius’s great Grandfather was right. The East Empire Company was covering this up” Wyldfyre said, closing the journal and handing it to Azaril, who stowed it in his satchel.
“Also, we have proof that Gratian did not meet with foul play at the hands of the Company, but died here after taking that sword he talked about” Azaril said.
“Yes” she nodded, searching the ground for the sword and then spying it further up the dais. It glowed with an ominous red lustre as she approached it “Azaril I found it, the Bloodskal Blade”. The elf stood beside her to peer down at the glowing greatsword as well.
“Do you think we should take it back to Raven Rock?” he looked at her.
“I’m not sure” she scratched her chin and then squatted down in front of it. It was a truly beautiful blade. Like Gratian had said, flawless. Wyldfyre’s fingers itched to touch it, to feel the weight of it in her hands. She could feel a power within its cold metal and that worried her. She grasped the hilt in her hand and stood, dragging it up with her.
“I think we should at least take it back to Raven Rock. Something this powerful just laying around for anyone to take, it’s not right”
“Also” Azaril rooted around in his satchel and pulled out Gratian’s journal again and flipped through the pages until he reached the spot he needed “Ah yes, it tells us here how to open this door to leave this chamber”
“Right” Wyldfyre turned to the intricate wall which in fact was a large door made up of huge panels that also glowed with a red hue. She gripped the greatsword in both hands and took a breath. “What do I need to do?”
*****
“Oh Azaril, stop looking at me like that and just apply the God’s-damned salve!” Wyldfyre yelled a little too loudly. She was in pain and the Elf was having a moral dilemma. Exiting the chamber with the large glowing door had seen them into yet another chamber, this one of Nordic design and half flooded. A word wall started to chant at Wyldfyre from the back of the chamber and so she made her way towards it by skirting around the sides. Half way around though a robed skeletal figure had risen out of the water and started blasting Wyldfyre and Azaril with a powerful shock spell. The dragon priest was relentless as they jumped for cover and drew their weapons. Wyldfyre was hit with a blast of electricity that almost knocked her to the ground. It burned her skin and she had growled in anger.
They battled the Dragon Priest for ages, whittling down its power slowly until finally, with a shot from her crossbow, Wyldfyre was able to end the priest’s existence. It had disintegrated into a pile of ash, its mask falling with a metallic clatter to the ground. Wyldfyre had then stumbled her way to the word wall where she then absorbed the word, but instead of it lingering inside her, just out of reach, she instantly knew it. She had barely registered this before the pain from her injuries was too much for her, crying out, she tore off her armour before plunging into the ice cold water.
After soaking in the waters for a while she began to see reason again. And she realised that the words she had encountered since absorbing Alduin’s blood no longer needed a dragon’s soul for her to learn it. She knew the word she had learned on the peak of Ysgramor’s tomb was a shout that lent her the allegiance of nearby animals. The shout she had just taken was equally as fascinating as it was frightening. Dragon Aspectwould improve her fighting skills and her resistance to damage from her enemies. She wanted to try it but was wary of doing so. It seemed like a powerful shout for one to possess.
Soon Azaril broke her out of her revere, uncomfortably informing her that she could not soak in the frigid waters all day. He had turned away from her nakedness and she wrinkled her nose at his modesty. She had left the water and covered herself with her undershirt. The burn to the back of her thigh pained her and so she had tried to get Azaril to apply a healing salve to it. To which he vehemently refused to do, causing her outburst. But soon she sighed with relief as the cool healing crème touched her skin.
“This is highly inappropriate My Lady” Azaril said from behind her.
“Oh nonsense Azaril!” she snorted unlady-like “I am in pain and I can’t reach it, or see it, so you are my stand-in healer all right?”
“I will do it, for you, but I don’t have to like it” he said as he smeared on the salve. Wyldfyre thought about wiggling her bottom at him but decided that she couldn’t be mean to her young friend.
“I don’t know how you are going to do at Jorrvaskr. You see everyone naked there, all the time, even the men” she smirked at him as he straightened; his administrations done. Azaril swallowed.
“Don’t remind me” he rolled his eyes. “I got a shocking view of Vilkas one night down in the baths. I thought I was safe, going there so late. And for a while I was, until Vilkas strode on in and stripped in front of me” he shuddered.
“Hey!” Wyldfyre frowned at him “Vilkas and Farkas are twins remember!”
“Oh my..!” his eyes widened.. “My Lady I am so sorry, I didn’t mean.. I” he then saw the grin on her face and stopped, looking sheepish. “You jest My Lady”
“Oh Azaril, I’m only having fun. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And don’t worry about being embarrassed. I was when I first joined the Companions” They left the chamber and wound their way through the rest of the ruins encountering no more nasty surprises. The last door to the ruin opened out onto a tower connected by two more by a network of bridges.
“Any idea where we are in relation to Raven Rock?” she asked the dunmer. Azaril peered around at the scenery and smiled.
“Yes this is Bloodskal barrow and Raven Rock is along the cost south of here. Not far really”
“Good” she nodded as they descended the towers “Let’s get that journal back to Crescius” She looked at the Bloodskal Blade hanging off Azaril’s armour. “And that blade into safe hands” As they walked along the shore line Wyldfyre noticed curious creatures that seemed to float above the water. They were odd, blobby shaped things with long tendrils and seemed to pulsate, emitting a low moaning sound. Some of them were quite large while others small. The larger ones herded around the small ones, like they were guarding them.
“What are those?” she asked Azaril.
“They are called Netch” he smiled at the creatures “Generally they are harmless, unless you provoke one, or go after one of their calves”
“Oh the small ones are their babies? How adorable!”
“Indeed” Azaril chuckled “You wouldn’t say that after you’ve had a heard of angry Netch after you. Let’s just pass them quietly and be on our way” Wyldfyre took a last look at the creatures and followed after the Dark Elf.
The reception they received once they returned to Raven Rock was overwhelming. Crescius wiped tears from his eyes after they handed over the journal. The news of the find spread through the small settlement like fire and even the councillor himself, Lleril Morvayn made an appearance to thank the pair and bestow an honorary citizenship upon Wyldfyre. The whole town gathered in the market square to celebrate. Wyldfyre joined in with the merriment for a little while before she became saddened and so slipped off quietly. She walked along the jetty and sat at the end, sighing as she saw the faint outlines of the people still working away at the All Maker stone; trapped there by Miraak until she found a way to free them.
Wyldfyre looked around and shed her clothing before slipping into the salty water. She immersed herself and pushed off from the sandy bottom and swam until her lungs almost burst. Re-surfacing she found herself far out beyond the Bulwark, the great imposing wall of stone that encircled Raven Rock to protect it. She could see up the coast and was curious as to what lay beyond the wall so she started swimming up the coast, her lean body slicing through the water. A small flicker of a camp fire inside a ruined house made her curious enough to leave the water and she crept towards an abandoned building. Her nose twitched and her senses were on alert as she approached the house. Whoever was in there left a certain familiar scent on the air. It was a Were. Wyldfyre just about turned around when a female voice called out to her from her hidden place in the darkness.
“You can stand out there or be warmed by my fire, either way I think we should talk She-wolf.”