Turdas, 4^th Evening Star, 4E 201

to Loredas, 6^th Evening Star, 4E 201

Rigmor and I did not speak about our brushes with death. Raw emotions via Mara’s Rings transmitted the fear, determination and relief that had flowed rapidly.

I can never promise to return to Rigmor when I enter Oblivion or when I tackle dangers on Nirn. To love me is to accept that reality and Rigmor has accepted it. When I enter Oblivion, she is like the wife of a soldier or sailor who waits for their beloved’s return. The difference is my time away is shorter but far more frequent. More goodbyes and periods of waiting are needed than those wives endure.

We slept remarkably well, considering we wore our armour and the glow of Oblivion surrounded us. The strangeness was diminished somewhat by the hushed, familiar voices of many Dragonguard who had gathered to protect Morthal.

I woke refreshed in mind and body and decided on a course not open to negotiation.

Alva’s house remained locked since we uncovered and destroyed the Vampire clan she belonged to. Vayu chose it as a refuge for The Dragonguard who weren’t on duty. It was inside that house I held an impromptu meeting.

I couldn’t mask my emotions, and Rigmor guessed what I would say. She gave me a smile of encouragement. She would not oppose me.

Vayu, Celestine, Silah and Rigmor waited for me to begin.

• Wulf: The Master is playing a game. He wants to kill me or damage me. He knows I cannot refuse to act.
• Rigmor: Kraanlyk Issaroth attacked me, not you.
• Wulf: And why do you think that is?
• Rigmor: I am regarded as a weakness to you. If I were to die, you would not be the same.
• Wulf: I could be a more significant threat, like Pelinal Whitestrake after his lover was killed.
• Silah: No enemy would want to face Wulf devoid of pity or conscience. He, indeed, would be Lord Sheogorath’s champion!
• Wulf: The enemy that immobilised me could have ended Celestine’s life. Instead, he chose to attack Rigmor.
• Rigmor: You don’t think it was my expert taunting.
• Celestine: ‘Come and get me, ugly!’ was not your best taunt. However, I think it reminded our enemy what his primary objective was.
• Wulf: I was immobilised. He thought that you, my dearest, were easy prey.
• Rigmor: Well, I showed him!
• Wulf: Indeed, your unusual tactic stymied him. I have never seen somebody use a greatsword as a spear like that.
• Rigmor: My Dad showed me how to do it. He said it was sometimes necessary when they faced a shield wall without spearmen.
• Wulf: I am The Master’s primary target, but he will do what he can to kill Rigmor as a means of damaging me. If I use all my abilities and not rely on numbers, I have a far higher chance of surviving. A group of us cannot maintain the stealth I can achieve alone. Therefore, I am going to enter this Oblivion Gate unaccompanied.
• Rigmor: I agree with Wulf. He should concentrate on his survival and not mine or anybody else’s.
• Silah: I was going to suggest that Wulf enter solo this time, and I am relieved I didn’t have to!
• Vayu: As a friend, I am not comfortable with this decision. But logic dictates it is necessary. Logic and love often conflict.
• Wulf: Then that is settled. Silah, did you glean anything from the Black Heart?
• Silah: No. Necromancy is involved, so perhaps The College of Winterhold or Whispers may be able to unravel it further. However, the energy used to bypass The Liminal Barrier was familiar.
• Wulf: How was it familiar?
• Silah: It was a modified version of that used by Mehrunes Dagon when he created The Chimera of Desolation. On a hunch, I asked Nahfahlaar to visit Caecilly Island. He reported it missing.
• Rigmor: Okay, explain what that is all about, please.
• Wulf: A Bosmer Mage called Chimere Graegyn was a retainer with House Direnni. That merchant clan made much of their wealth via dealings with Daedra, including many Daedric Princes.
• Rigmor: Those arseholes only worshipped one thing, and that is profit!
• Celestine: There are surviving members of House Direnni, mainly on The Isle of Balfiera, and their morals have not changed. The Thalmor killed many Direnni refugees about 150 years ago.
• Rigmor: Did they object to House Direnni’s lust for profit?
• Celestine: No, they objected to their impure blood. Many of the remaining House Direnni members resulted from interbreeding with Man.
• Rigmor: They mixed Man and Mer! Off with their heads!
• Vayu: Typical Thalmor. They ignored the fact that Breton stopped being purebred Aldmer thousands of years ago and were never Altmer.
• Wulf: Aldmer interbred with Nedic Druids. Thus, we have those strange, height-challenged Breton people.
• Celestine: Take that back, or I will jump up and bite you on the ankle!
• Wulf: Chimere Graegyn devised a plan to allow him to become immortal and surrounded by his loved ones and neighbours for eternity. Chimere kept the precise details of his plan to himself, not wanting others to attempt what he did.
• Celestine: Chimere’s plan involved using an artefact called Savior’s Hide, also known as Scourge of the Oathbreaker.
• Wulf: For centuries, Auryen has searched for the complete set of Savior’s Hide. We know it is on Nirn, and there may be several sets thanks to The Warp in The West. The Nerevarine once owned a set, and so did The Hero of Kvatch. Whether they were the same set or not is unknown.
• Celestine: Similarly, the creator of the armour is also disputed, with some saying Lord Hircine is the smith and others claiming Malacath was.
• Vayu: Both could be true. More of that Dragon Break gobblygook!
• Wulf: If you wear Savior’s Hide, you are protected against attacks by an oathbreaker.
• Vayu: But only against a being who broke an oath to the wearer.
• Rigmor: So, if High King Torygg were wearing Savior’s Hide, Ulfric would not have been able to harm him.
• Vayu: Yep.
• Wulf: I have often said that when you make a deal with a Daedric Prince, it is binding. However, you must be careful about how you word the agreement. The Direnni were expert manipulators of laws and contracts. Chimere was not only clever in business but also a mighty Conjuration Mage.
• Celestine: Chimere schemed against Mehrunes Dagon. He asked to live forever in his home town among the happy voices of his friends and fellow citizens. The entirety of the agreement is unknown, including what Dagon hoped to gain from it.
• Wulf: Chimere cunningly deceived Dagon, coaxing him into a binding oath against The Powers, an oath that Dagon had no genuine intention of upholding. Who and what ‘The Powers’ are is also unknown.
• Celestine: Once Dagon realised how he had been manipulated by the deft tongue of an impudent mortal, he flew into a rage. But he was now an oathbreaker.
• Wulf: Seizing the opportune moment, Chimere employed the Saviour’s Hide to temporarily divert Dagon’s colossal rage, allowing him to launch a calculated assault. This attack was a potent incantation, targeting Dagon’s ‘Protonymic.’
• Rigmor: Proto what?
• Celestine: All Daedra have a ‘true name’, their Protonymic. Mehrunes Dagon is what we call that Daedric Prince. However, that is not his Protonymic. How Chimere obtained Dagon’s Protonymic is also a mystery, but scholars suspect he made a deal with another Daedric Prince.
• Rigmor: It sounds like something The Tentacled Turd would bargain for.
• Wulf: Chimere’s incantation siphoned away Dagon’s formidable power, consigning the Dark Lord to The Void.
• Celestine: Daedric Princes cannot die. However, if weakened sufficiently, they are banished from their realm and consigned to The Void. Their time in The Void might stretch for thousands of years as they slowly regain the strength to return to their realm. Most, if not all, Dark Lords have a failsafe that allows a faster return to their realm. We know Mehrunes Dagon did, for it was not long after this event that The Oblivion Crises started.
• Wulf: Chimere’s strategy proved flawed. He failed to anticipate Dagon’s resilient resistance, which, while unable to halt the power drain entirely, hindered its speed. In an unexpected turn, Dagon, rather than succumbing to The Void, directed his waning power into a malevolent curse.
• Celestine: Remember Wulf’s warning about how you word a deal with Daedric Princes.
• Rigmor: Yes, he has mentioned it many times, including a few minutes ago!
• Wulf: Some people, including Chimere, learn the lesson too late.
• Celestine: The consequences of the curse were dire! Caecilly Island, Chimer’s home and its inhabitants, met a horrible fate as it was dragged into a new realm of Oblivion called The Chimera of Desolation. Chimere found himself ensnared in the literal fulfilment of the terms he had set with Dagon. He was condemned to an eternity amid the ruins of his once-grand ambition.
• Wulf: Chimere was the only survivor of the transition to Oblivion. He grew old and arthritic as he listened to the voices of the deceased islanders, knowing he caused their deaths.
• Celestine: Without going into too much detail, Mehrunes Dagon used The Chimera of Desolation to invade The Battlespire. He wanted to eliminate the Imperial Battlemages and have access to portals within The Battlespire, which existed in a pocket plane of Oblivion. That was the opening gambit of The Oblivion Crises, but it was thwarted by Vatasha Trenelle, the mortal hero known as The Apprentice.
• Wulf: She arrived at The Battlespire to undertake her final test and discovered it overrun by Daedra. She was the only mortal alive in that pocket plane of Oblivion. Vatasha’s actions delayed The Oblivion Crises by several years.
• Celestine: Vatasha was aided by Chimere whilst in The Chimera of Desolation.
• Wulf: When Lord Akatosh’s avatar defeated Mehrunes Dagon, Caecilly Island was returned to Nirn with the aged Chimere, who suffered greatly from arthritis.
• Rigmor: It always amazes me when you two take turns explaining something.
• Vayu: They developed that ability to protect the poor Dragonguard from Wulf’s lectures.
• Wulf: Get fucked!
• Vayu: Who is the Shaman? Show some respect, Dragonlord.
• Wulf: Oh, great and wise Shaman, I humbly ask that you get fornicated.
• Vayu: Alas, it is hard to fulfil your humble request when you abscond with my beloved all over Nirn and Oblivion.
• Wulf: Silah, how come the dragging of Caecilly Island back into Oblivion was not detected?
• Silah: By luck or design, a severe thunderstorm raged when the hole in The Liminal Barrier occurred. There must have been exiting hooks into that land mass, meaning the transfer was almost instantaneous. Fluctuations in the barrier often occur during powerful storms, and several of us dismissed the opening as one of those. The hole in The Liminal Barrier was small and existed for a minuscule time. 
• Rigmor: Do you think this has anything to do with The Obscurity?
• Silah: We have no clues as to what will cause that event. But we know it is not for a few years at the earliest.
• Wulf: Did we travel through The Chimera of Desolation?
• Silah: We believe so, but the existence of monuments to many Daedric Princes is perplexing.
• Celestine: There was no indication that Mehrunes Dagon ruled the pocket realm. The Dremora were loyal to The Master.
• Wulf: We can speculate till the end of this kalpa about who The Master is. I suggest enquiries are made about the deceased mage called ‘A. Krinn.’ His is the only name we have. The Master enslaved him, but there may be prior connections between them on Nirn.
• Rigmor: What happened to Chimere?
• Wulf: He died of old age. No doubt Dagon has been entertaining him ever since.
• Rigmor: Did he have children?
• Wulf: At least one, but he once said it could be hundreds. Bosmer are like rabbits.
• Celestine: You won’t be warned a third time, Dragonbum! Your ankle is in grave danger!
• Wulf: The Black Heart must be examined by trusted mages with appropriate protections to prevent its theft or misuse.
• Celestine: I will try The College of Winterhold first. I don’t trust The College of Whispers.
• Wulf: Neither do I.
• Vayu: Some assistance from The Psijic Order would be handy. You told us that Monk Nerien has been observing you.
• Wulf: Yes, it seems they have returned from wherever they went. However, nobody contacts The Psijic Monks. They decide when their interference, ahem, I meant their assistance, is required.
• Rigmor: Silah, please inform Mum and the others where I am. They will be awfully worried.
• Silah: I will fly Vayu to a remote area near Bruma City. If my spirit form entered your castle, many questions would be asked.
• Vayu: Ask amongst The Dragonguard, Silah. I would prefer not to leave Morthal.
• Silah: Okay. Many of them are known to Sigunn so they will gain access to her quickly enough.
• Wulf: You have everything we gathered from Solitude’s gate. It is time I looked for more clues within Morthal’s. Whatever the realm is, this gate leads to the same one as Solitude’s.
• Celestine: You know what to do, Wulf. No mortal alive is more capable of surviving there than you.
• Wulf: I don’t know. If The Nerevarine still lives, they would probably be more capable than me.
• Rigmor: Great. Instead of puffing your chest out and saying, ‘Yeah, I can kick anything’s arse!’ you do some self-deprecation.
• Wulf: Yeah, I can kick anything’s arse! But I am in trouble if the enemy doesn’t have one!
• Rigmor: Idiot.
• Wulf: Your idiot.
• Rigmor: Lucky me.
• Wulf: I will use psychography to write my journal as I travel.
• Celestine: That is a bit grim, Wulf.
• Rigmor: Please explain.
• Celestine: Wulf has a psychic link with his journal. When he wills it, what he thinks will be written in his handwriting within the journal.
• Rigmor: And why is that grim?
• Wulf: It ensures that any knowledge I gain is recorded and perhaps retrieved later.
• Rigmor: In case you don’t make it.
• Wulf: Grim?
• Rigmor: Grim!
• Wulf: It is made grimmer by lousy grammar. Past and present tense are muddled together.
• Vayu: Sometimes in the same paragraph!
• Wulf: The horror is unbearable!
• Rigmor: Stop procrastinating, Wulf.
• Silah: Your father sends his love.
• Wulf: I wonder if Mother senses my absence from Mundus.
• Celestine: There is no doubt she does.
• Wulf: Okay, time to stop procrastinating. I don’t want hairy palms or to go blind.
• Rigmor: Weird!
• Vayu: Weird!
• Celestine: Weird!
• Silah: I don’t get it.

We went outside, and the others gave Rigmor and me some privacy to say goodbye. We picked a bit of shade from the red glow.

Rigmor told me, “No long goodbyes, my Guardian. Let’s pretend you are doing nothing more dangerous than clearing a nest of bandits.”

“Every Dragonguard is within Morthal and spread strategically around the city. Therefore, many other people share the burden of protecting its people. In other words, do not overtax yourself, Countess Ragnarsdottier.”

Even within Our Quiet, emotions threatened to overwhelm us. I quickly kissed Rigmor’s forehead, and then I shouted Dragon Aspect.

Before I stepped towards the Oblivion Gate, dozens of Dremora appeared.

Minutes later, no enemy remained.

Rigmor said, “Go, Wulf. End The Master, as his minions are getting annoying!”

I laughed at my beloved, then smiled at a distant fisherman concentrating on his task. The locals trust The Dragonguard to protect them. They are determined not to let a pesky Oblivion Gate and monsters from children’s nightmares interfere with their daily routine.

I was soon transported to Oblivion, and my link to Rigmor vanished. In the distance, I could see Dremora moving. Their guttural speech was never pleasing to the ears. There were also several dragons present. Their breathing is never quiet.

I cast Shroudwalk. The spell is not one that you cast and forget. It requires concentration to maintain it, so I only use it for short periods.

When I entered a large cavern, a dragon immediately to my left and one further to my right seemed to sense my presence, but they did not move towards me.

Many Dremora protected a closed gate in the distance. I have no doubt a convenient lever or switch will be nearby.

Two Unrelenting Force shouts killed them all.

The dragon to my left said, “The strength of your Thu’um is impressive. I assume the invisible intruder is Dovahkiin.”

I let myself materialise and replied, “Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, Brother. Yes, I am Dovahkiin. What is your name.”

“I would give you my name if I knew it.”

“This is not a place for Dov. Kaan’s domain is where my brothers belong.”

“Indeed, we can’t gain much height, and despite the abundance of lava and heat, there are few thermals for us to enjoy.”

“Are you supposed to attack me?”

“Our captors are easily fooled. They have thought we are enslaved and bound to their whims for many years. We still maintain some autonomy, although not enough to tear their fragile bodies into bloody chunks. So yes, Dovahkiin, we were supposed to attack and kill intruders. But, even here, we heard of Alduin’s defeat. Dremora enjoy tales of battle, and your accomplishments earn much praise. You are our overlord, and we submit to your superior Thu’um.”

“My Dov allies do not submit to my Thu’um. They aid me out of friendship and mutual respect.”

“Have you met The Druhunian Dragon?”

“Yes, and he could only resist his ensorcellment briefly. I would have preferred not to fight him.”

“As mentioned, Dremora like to gossip and enjoy endless meaningless tinvaak. The Druhunian Dragon does not look like me, does he?”

“No, he is of a species similar to Alduin and Paarthurnax in size and shape.”

“And yet our bodies are used to restore him. It seems The Master likes to meddle in the process.”

“Your entire bodies are used?”

“Yes. Our souls are merged with that of The Druhunian Dragon. Creatia is used to alter size and appearance. The Druhunian Dragon is a unique Daedra.”

I scanned the dragon’s soul. It had been altered. The purpose of the alteration is unknown and subtle, but it is there.

I stated, “There cannot be many visitors to this pocket plane who can defeat The Druhunian Dragon.”

“Oh, he is defeated often enough but not by an individual. Groups of Dremora are sent to battle him as their final test before being raised to the rank of Kraanlyk. Far more of them are defeated than victorious, so it is an efficient method of determining rank.”

“How many of our brethren have they captured?”

“None of us remember our name or capture. You will note we are all of one species. Undoubtedly, you are here to try and solve the mysteries of The Master and his minions. Perhaps you can explain our existence here in seemingly inexhaustible numbers.”

“What do you know of The Master?”

“Nothing. Although Dremora talk to each other endlessly, they are cautious. They speak of The Master with reverence, but not often. Watch to the left of the gate. You destroyed the guards, and others have been sent to investigate.”

Using Heat Vision, I watched Dremora come from below.

Unrelenting Force eliminated the reinforcements.

I noticed another dragon higher up.

I killed a Dremora observing from a balcony.

I then turned back to the dragon.

I asked, “It is seawater below us. Is part of Nirn also under the ice?”

“Yes, a section of an island sunk beneath the ocean surrounding it when brought here.”

“In my search for information, I will dive and investigate. But first, I shall speak to the other Dovah.”

The dragon watched me approach, and as I closed, I felt uneasy. The bodies and faces of dragons are as varied as mortals. However, this dragon uncannily resembled the other.

When close enough, I scanned his soul and was shocked. The two dragons had identical souls!

Dragons are highly intelligent and wise. The one I faced began to laugh, which is not the most pleasant sound imaginable.

He said, “You are perturbed, so I assume you figured it out.”

“You are all The Druhunian Dragon! They have made copies of the dragon who can’t remember his name. They did not have to try and enslave many Dov and drag them into Oblivion.”

“Indeed, that is true. The Master planned to create many of us as soldiers to protect the Oblivion Gates. We refused, so now we suffer endless defeats from weak Dremora. Our Oversoul roams Oblivion, free until called to combat. Then, when he is defeated, one of us is used as the new vessel for his soul. It merges with our tainted soul.”

“The Master will regret his transgressions!”

“We have dim memories of Nirn, but they fill us with an unbearable yearning to fly its skies again. We don’t know what will happen to us if The Master is eliminated. We are not natural and are not sons of Bormahu.”

“Many actions of Creatia manipulation are reversed when the manipulator dies or is reduced to travelling The Void. Perhaps The Druhunian Dragon will remember his name, and his soul will be repaired. Perhaps he will fly Kaan’s domain once again.”

“You provide a glimmer of hope, Dovahkiin. We wish you well in your endeavours. However, you must keep moving or risk being swamped by Dremora.”

“I will allow them to herd me where they desire, up to a point. This trip through Oblivion is a game, and I don’t mind cheating against these opponents.”

As I approached the gates, a convenient fire highlighted a lever. I don’t know why they didn’t paint an arrow pointing to it. The lever was close to some descending spiral stairs.

I pulled the lever, and the gates swung open.

I then proceeded down the stairs the Dremora reinforcements had used.

A mix of Nord and Bosmer architecture was strewn across the underwater landscape.

Something created by neither caught my attention. It was a platform with three inactive but undamaged portals.

I returned to the surface and told the dragons, “There are Daedric-made portals below. They sit on a perfectly horizontal platform, and I doubt they existed on the island in Nirn.”

I explored the area further and found a door with an unpickable lock. I did not doubt I would find the key in some chest as I played The Master’s game.

As I looked around with Zoom Vision, I noticed what seemed to be a shrine. I have no idea to what deity it is dedicated.

Not far past the gates, I encountered more Dremora, who died when Unrelenting Force broke their bones and liquified their organs.

Varla Stones provided light.

Like the Ayleid managed to do, the inhabitants of this pocket plane grow artificial Star Glass. When deciding what was dragged into Oblivion and what already existed, I must be careful. I doubt Caecilly Island inhabitants had the skills or knowledge to grow such crystals.

Hardly an hour into my travels, and boredom was my most significant danger. At least with Celestine and Rigmor, there was banter to break the monotony. Yet another obvious lever opened an entrance blocked by a portcullis.

A short corridor led to another cavern protected by Ice Wraiths and transparent Dremora.

Another narrow tunnel led from that cavern.

Dremora are not the brightest species. Several of them guarded a door at the end of the narrow tunnel. In Daedric, I yelled, “Mortals laugh at Dremora inferiority!”

I stepped back into the corridor and waited for the idiots to charge at me and be slaughtered.

A closed gate to my left blocks the entrance to another corridor. I suspect my next task is to find the opening mechanism.

Next to the guarded doorway was a statue of Boethia’s excrement, commonly called Lord Malacath. His head was far less spiky when I met him in The Ash Pit.

A nearby chest held nothing of interest.

The door was not locked, which was a relief. I did not want to backtrack too much, looking for keys or opening mechanisms.

Several Dremora, including a particularly powerful Kraanlyk, occupied an old-fashioned Nord watchtower.

I cut down the three lesser Dremora as their commander descended the watchtower’s steps while boasting, “I have watched your progress with amusement, mortal champion. But now you face Sentinel Guuvas! Lord Haark-Shwenn will reward me for your death. It should have been me who was promoted, not that lickspittle Blackthorn! What kind of name is that for a Dremora?”

Guuvas approached full of arrogance and certainty. I told him, “You talk too much!”

He charged at me and, seconds later, lay defeated.

Another Dremora observed the brief fight from afar. They turned towards another watchtower, undoubtedly thinking they were safe. My Thu’um rapidly travelled and proved their assumption incorrect.

Guuvas had nothing of use on him.

A red miasma lit an area when I looked where I had travelled. I knew that was where the three portals upon the level slab lay underwater.

I climbed the tower steps and came upon an unlocked chest.

Within the chest was a key and Sentinel Guuvas’ journal, which read,

“At the command of Lord Haark-Shwenn, I’m sent to guard this land. Rubble kept falling through the Realms for a while, and we made the best of it to defend our positions. I’m pretty reluctant around these mortal-made buildings as they lack our purest Dremora style. However, the thought of having ripped these very stones from Mundus, corrupting and soaking their history into Oblivion, gives me ease.

The new portal, allowing the distortion of matter itself, is a powerful artefact. We must diligently guard against intruders caught within its power. My fellow brothers got lucky with a bunch of peasants. They were weaklings, and I heard their screams echoing from the top of my tower.

There is commotion below. Lord Haark-Shwenn warned that a mortal champion might visit and prove challenging. I am fortunate and will have the pleasure of defeating this mortal champion. I hope their demise causes pain to those waiting for their return.”

The gate I passed earlier did not have a lock. Therefore, I searched for a lever or similar device.

At the entrance to the watchtower was a pull chain. After pulling it, I heard a distant grating of hinges.

I returned to the gate. It now blocked the tunnel I had used, but the previously blocked one was accessible.

It led to a small cavern where Ice Wraths and transparent Dremora attacked in numbers. They were not very formidable opponents and were quickly dispatched.

At the end of the cavern was a locked door. The key from Sentinel Guuvas’ chest unlocked it.

When I stepped through the door, I was confronted by many Dremora and two intact Nord watchtowers. I doubt they survived their trip to Oblivion in a state of good repair. Guuvas hinted they had used material from Nirn to construct their defences. I assume that involved repairing the watchtowers. The closest watchtower had a lowered portcullis.

I stood and waited for the Dremora to notice me.

When they did, they charged in a convenient grouping.

Unrelenting Force wiped them out.

As I hoped, their commander was stupid enough to raise the portcullis and try to exit the tower.

They were soon another pile of ash.

Another Dremora Lord was smarter and waited for me to enter the tower. It did them no good as they faced an enemy far more powerful than they were.

There was nothing of significance within the watchtower.

To reach the second watchtower, I had to use a land bridge. The Dremora, on the other side of the land bridge, must have known I disposed of their comrades but hadn’t crossed to challenge me. I suspect their orders were not to leave a particular area, no matter what they see or hear.

Several of the Dremora were Warlocks. I didn’t try to determine their ranks as I cut them down.

None of the Dremora had anything of use upon them.

A colossal statue of Lord Malacath was embedded in the side of a mountain. By accident or by choice, it would be an intimidating sight for most who viewed it. To me, it was a curiosity.

I had reached that strange shrine I noticed from below. I decided to search the tower before dealing with it.

A map with five flags showed intended targets for Oblivion Gates. It was too much of a coincidence that they diagonally crossed the province. It suggested The Master intended to divide Skyrim in two. He would invade one side while protecting the gates. He would then invade the other side. I doubt the five gates would be enough to drag Nirn into Oblivion. Molag Bal used dozens of Dark Anchors spread around Nirn to drag it into Coldharbour. His plan failed, but The Master may have had a more efficient method.

Oblivion Gates would be established in Solitude, Morthal, Whiterun, Ivarstead and Riften from top left to bottom right. If The Greybeards defended Ivarstead, The Master would need hundreds of thousands of minions to defend an Oblivion Gate.

When we entered Solitude’s gate and travelled through the pocket plane, we thought The Master was imitating Aedriath in many respects. The New Order’s plans were left in the open, but I suspected they hadn’t told us the entire strategy. Intuition tells me something is missing from the information I have been and will be spoon-fed by The Master.

Above the map was a window into The Void. The complete black was mesmerising and familiar. Part of my soul yearned to return to its purity and simplicity.

In a nearby trunk was another key.

I suspect a couple of the Dremora I had just killed were of significant rank. If so, they died as quickly as the others.

I approached what I initially thought was a shrine. It wasn’t. When I placed my hands near the bloodied skull, that of a mortal, not a Dremora, I detected a Daedric dweomer. I didn’t know what it did.

I touched the skull, which then pivoted 180 degrees.

The platform with the three portals slowly emerged from the water.

They made the land bridge collapse to ensure I followed their chosen path. Did they think that would stop me? I could Blink or use Whirlwind Sprint to reach the other side.

A locked cage protected access to a hatch.

The Master wants me to visit the three portals. I assume the hatch will lead me to the locked door I discovered when I first entered Oblivion.

There was a trap on the lock. I inserted and turned the key, then leapt back.

It seems somebody else didn’t get away from the flames in time.

I opened the hatch and climbed a ladder to a small room with a door.

The temperature had plummeted, and when I looked up, I saw I was below a layer of ice and snow. The spikes pointing down were no stalactites.

The door opened to a descending spiral staircase.

I came to a landing with three pull chains.

Above the pull chains were holes for spikes to descend. The trap was poorly designed, as the spikes were too far apart.

I descended further to see what the pull chains were for. A lowered portcullis was the answer.

I returned to the pull chains. There was no way of knowing if a single pull chain would lower the portcullis or a combination of two or all three pulled in a particular sequence.

There was no use trying to figure it out with logic, so I pulled the closest chain and stepped back. No spikes descended, and I heard the portcullis lifting.

The temperature plummeted further as I descended the stairs. A Dremora below was complaining to thin air about his shitty assignment.

I said, “Hello, is anybody home? I saw your light on and thought I would drop by.”

The Dremora rushed up the stairs and skewered himself on my horizontal katana.

The key I retrieved from the tower unlocked a door at the bottom of the stairs.

As expected, it was at the first door I found after entering the Oblivion Gate.

As I approached the portals, one of the dragons remarked, “Dovahkiin, you are providing the most entertainment we have had in a long time!”

Two portals opened when I climbed the steps and stood on the platform.

Very powerful Atronachs emerged from them.

They were powerful but only lasted one swing of my sword.

Like the one that raised the portals, a bloodied mortal skull sat on a dais before each portal.

When I touched the first one, the portal behind it closed.

I destroyed two more Atronachs and touched the second skull.

The corresponding portal closed, but the third one opened.

I examined the portal and decided it led to a different realm within Oblivion.

I did not hesitate and stepped into the portal.

I was teleported to what looked like a Temple of Lady Mara. However, the many statues of Lady Dibella did not belong.

A shrine of Lady Nocturnal was another clue that not all was what it seemed. Unlike every other shrine I had encountered, this one was functional.

I said aloud, “I do not regard you as my enemy, Lady Nocturnal. Why have you involved yourself in this farce?”

I received no reply.

Dwemer gates in a Nord temple indicate the creator has no idea what a Shrine to a Divine should look like.

I had done a lot of training to protect myself against illusions. One method I particularly liked was verbally confirming what I saw and heard was not real.

Walking towards Lady Mara’s shrine, I repeatedly said, “This is not real. Do not trust your eyes.”

A filled Black Soul Gem was in Lady Mara’s font. Real or not, that was a blasphemy I could not accept. I removed the offending gem and dropped it on the floor.

Watcher statues, which were also out of place, pivoted and followed me, as they did in Sovngarde.

I drew my sword and said with conviction, “This is not real. Do not trust your eyes!”

When I drew even with Lady Mara’s statue, the illusion changed. I knew I did not see the reality, but the Dremora that attacked, both visible and transparent, were not illusions.

I slaughtered the enemy in seconds.

Some hid behind lowered portcullises. I didn’t bother looking for the opening mechanism.

As I approached the portal, a Dremora Lord appeared.

He was no match for my anger. This was a deliberate insult to The Divines by Lady Nocturnal, and I will not forget what she has done.

The statues of Lady Dibella were replaced with busts of Mehrunes Dagon and various Daedric artefacts.

The illusion ended when I retrieved a key from a sculpture of a Dremora’s hand.

The statues of Dibella now had the heads of Dremora.

Lady Mara’s statue now held two mortal hearts. A skull had replaced her beautiful face.

I looked among the many books. Prominently on display was ‘Chimera of Desolation.’ It read,

“The Chimera of Desolation is a small, lordless realm created by Mehrunes Dagon, who threw Caecilly Island (a small island off the coast of Northmoor) into the void as an act of revenge against Chimere, a mortal conjurer living there. The abandoned town of Trybador still stands on the desolate island.

From this small realm, a champion arose, ruling over all those places lost in the void.

With his powerful magic, he built strongholds all over the realm and became master of all the gathered Dremora Lords and Abominable Creatures, creating his army in this way.

He gained favour from many Daedric Princes and, being granted a free pass, travelled through the ancient and once-forbidden gates connecting several realms and dominions.

The Dremora refer to him as ‘The Master.’ According to unholy preachings, he will consume life as it is intended to forge a new realm in his homeland. It is an empty place where a black sun shines with no light over The Void like a giant black hole.

Nobody knows how tales of this champion of destruction reached Mundus, but small cults were devoted to him in the long past. All those who knew of his existence vanished, and such cults no longer exist.”

There was no author or date in the book. I can only speculate how The Master could originate from the Chimera of Desolation. Several mortal champions entered the pocket plane, including The Apprentice, The Nerevarine, and The Warrior. All three participated in The Ritual of the Innocent Quarry.

I have never done a lecture via psychography before! If future readers think they know enough about The Ritual of the Innocent Quarry, they are free to skip ahead. Otherwise, read on.

For some time, the Chimera of Desolation was the haunting backdrop for the ancient Daedric ceremony known as The Ritual of the Innocent Quarry. It is also called The Wild Hunt or The Great Hunt. It should not be confused with Lord Hircine’s Wild Hunt!

This mystical rite harnessed the potent Magicka coursing through the pocket plane, although the exact origins and times of its inception have faded into the obscurity of history. When meticulously executed, the ritual bestowed formidable power and prestige upon an individual titled ‘The Huntsman.’

The essence of the ritual unfolded as the all-powerful Huntsman, accompanied by their Greater and Lesser Dogs, which were various manifestations of Daedra, pursued a mortal designated as ‘The Innocent Quarry’ or ‘The Hare.’ The Huntsman’s primary objective was to corner and dispatch The Hare while contemplating the profound philosophical aspects of their roles within The Hunt. To be chosen as The Huntsman was considered a great honour among the Daedra.

Commencing at The Chapel of the Innocent Quarry, an imposing green crystal structure, The Lesser Dogs gathered outside. At the same time, The Huntsman, Greater Dogs, and Master of the Hunt conducted sacred rites within. These rituals initiated and sanctified The Huntsman, The Hunt, and The Innocent Quarry. Upon emerging, The Huntsman displayed the formidable Spear of Bitter Mercy. He recited The Offices of The Hunt, elucidating the four distinct phases: The Drag, The Chase, The Call, and The View to the Kill.

During The Drag, The Lesser Dogs flushed The Hare into the open, initiating The Chase, led by The Greater Hounds. The climax unfolded during The Call, as The Hare found itself cornered. The Huntsman was beckoned for the final strike. In The View, The Huntsman, armed with the ritual weapon, The Spear of Bitter Mercy, delivered the fatal blow. The Master of the Hunt then signalled the conclusion by ringing the town bell of Trybador. The successful Huntsman Bold was duly rewarded with The Bounty, earning the privilege to name the next Hare for the subsequent Hunt, where they were barred from participating.

A solemn commitment to The Offices, or Law, of The Hunt bound The Huntsmen, Master, and Hounds. This comprehensive set of regulations governed every facet of The Hunt, from the number of participating Hounds to the wielder of The Spear of Bitter Mercy. Crucially, The Offices stipulated that The Hare must have a genuine chance to escape, typically represented by six keys allowing escape through a portal in The Temple of Daedric Rites within Chimera of Desolation. Although Daedra perceived escape as nearly impossible, any failure to provide this opportunity was deemed a “shameful and unforgivable betrayal of the Law of the Hunt.”

In addition to the rituals, The Huntsmen enjoyed protection from all forms of attack, rendering them impervious to conventional weapons and magical effects, except for The Spear of Bitter Mercy. A single touch of this artefact spelt instant and certain death for both Hare and Huntsman alike, with only the most potent Daedra believed to be immune to its lethal effects.

The tales of how previous mortal champions survived are well documented. None of them became The Master.

The Master has access to several realms of Daedric Lords. He desires to create his realm using mortal Lifeforce. If I fail, others must stop The Master! Even if it kills me, this information must reach those awaiting my return.

Also on display were The Book of The Dragonborn and Oblivion Stones Vol. 1.

Don’t they think I would have guessed I am their obsession by now?

I have never encountered an Oblivion Stone, and they are not an artefact I am interested in. However, I shall collect them for the museum if I find any. The book read,

“Oblivion Stones are magic artefacts that we probably will never fully grasp.

Those are made for many different purposes, and the same stone can have many powers simultaneously. Such artefacts can be used as sigils or keys and protect someone who owns one.

The stones can restore connections of ancient portals but without control of them.

Natural forces have unusual interactions with these rocky relics. For instance, they are not affected by gravity.

Some of these powerful items may look broken, but this usually means a higher power has been split into more pieces, and such ones can also be used to improve a few unique Daedric Weapons.”

I was not surprised to find a complete set of Mythic Dawn Commentaries. They were tattered compared to the pristine copies in my museum, so I left them behind.

The portal that brought me to this pocket plane was no longer functioning. A downward tunnel was the only exit from the building.

At the bottom of the tunnel was a portal. A statue of Lord Malacath stood over it.

I approached the portal. It led to a pocket plane of The Ash Pit.

It seems that I am to do a tour of the realms of Daedric Princes. Lady Nocturnal’s was offensive. I am intrigued what Lord Malacath’s may be.

I retrieved my journal and wrote, “Rigmor, my beloved, I have no choice but to enter the portal. These words I write by hand, for they are of paramount importance. Please understand if I don’t return.

I love you.”

I placed my journal into my Journal Case and stepped into the portal.