Loredas, 13^th Evening Star, 4E 201

I enjoyed a quiet, solo breakfast in the morning sun. Rigmor was keen to hear of yesterday’s exploits. It gives her something to ponder as her backside goes numb on her throne.

At about 9 AM, today’s squad joined me.

• Wulf: Jo’rassa, how is Inigo?
• Jo’rassa: He told me to tell you to get fornicated.
• Wulf: What did I do?
• Jin: You convinced him a flesh sample would be taken from the groin area.
• Jo’rassa: You also told him a few inches of flesh were required.
• Jin: Poor Inigo was shaking like a leaf when he saw me approaching with my surgical knife.
• Wulf: Inigo the Not So Brave.
• Dae: You can be an arsehole sometimes.
• Wulf: And? Do you have any new revelations?
• Dae: Point proven.
• Jo’rassa: After Jin scrapped some skin from his forearm and said that was it, Inigo vowed revenge.
• Wulf: He will be in quarantine for a week.
• Jo’rassa: It is not so bad in that cave, and I think he enjoys the mineral pool.
• Wulf: And all those Welkynd crystals will remind him of his good friend, whom he will not want to strangle.
• Kharjo: This one is wondering where Wulf is taking us.
• Wulf: I want to visit Auryen and see if he can find any references to the problems in Evermore, including The Affliction. He may have scholar friends in that area.
• Dae: It is strange we know so little about the goings on in High Rock.
• Wulf: I am sure His Imperial Majesty has access to much information. However, news sheets tend to be very provincial. I would not be surprised if many residents of Evermore know nothing of Alduin, Oblivion Gates or even the war against The New Order.
• Kharjo: This one thinks the lack of Khajiiti traders following Evermore’s Moonpaths also stifles the news. Many people visit the caravans for gossip, not to purchase things. Skyrim’s caravans often have long talks around a campfire with Baandari traders.
• Wulf: You are probably right, Kharjo.
• Jo’rassa: The Orsimer Legionnaires should prove valuable.
• Wulf: I think we should present ourselves as members of The Imperial Army. I hold the rank of General and can deputise people for a period.
• Jin: You want to boost the popularity of The Imperial Army while there.
• Wulf: Yes, precisely. Whatever good we achieve in Evermore, I want the people to thank The Empire, not Wulf and The Dragonguard. I also want them to see that Orsimer are no different from other people. There are good and evil in all races.
• Jo’rassa: Will you mention the Minotaur in your journal?
• Wulf: No, and if I discovered living Ayleid, Falmer, or Snow Elves, I would not mention them either. There will always be idiots who think such species should have been eliminated and would try to do so.
• Kharjo: When finished with Auryen, where do we go next?
• Wulf: I want to visit High Queen Elisif for three reasons. First, I have not had a chance to congratulate her after the Moot unanimously voted for her.
• Jo’rassa: And you want to sign Olette’s adoption papers.
• Wulf: Yep. When we return, she will officially be Lady Olette Welkynd.
• Jo’rassa: She wore herself out telling everybody in Aurane the excellent news.
• Dae: Olette understands that there is danger in your actual identity. Therefore, she will also be in peril by association. We know you are not her sire, but others would question that assertion.
• Jin: If you are known as a Septim, so will Olette.
• Wulf: I cannot let if, buts and maybes control my life. Besides, my parentage may never be revealed.
• Jo’rassa: Each person you bring into our expanding circle increases the chance it will.
• Wulf: We have been stretched thin with the numbers we have. When we hit a critical mass, I will know.
• Jo’rassa: Intuition.
• Wulf: Yep.
• Jin: We are running out of beds here.
• Wulf: We can always install bunk beds like I have in Dragons Keep.
• Jin: Who would want to sleep underneath some of the more gaseous Dragonguard?
• Dae: You are assuming the offensive gases float down. Some float up.
• Kharjo: This one thinks the gases seek to fill every inch of a room when searching for nostrils to attack.
• Wulf: And the conversation degrades to drunk Nord level. At least it is better than talking about cleaning your nether regions with your tongue.
• Jo’rassa: Kharjo, they will next tell us that chasing our tails is strange.
• Kharjo: Tailless smooth skins have never experienced the satisfaction of either activity.
• Wulf: After visiting High Queen Elisif, I will inform General Tullius of what is happening. He will not be surprised when summoned and can start preparing beforehand.
• Dae: He must be twiddling his thumbs with no war to fight.
• Wulf: There are many large bandit groups he is dealing with. Plus, I can tell him that Stormcloaks are in numbers near Sancre Tor. He will accept that information without probing how I know.
• Jin: He is probably trying to ignore the gobblygook happening around him.
• Wulf: The powers we and some of our enemies wield can make a soldier feel redundant. However, armies will always be needed, and The Imperial Army is the model other nations envy. General Tullius is a legend amongst soldiers of all nations.
• Jin: If Legions cross into Evermore, will he lead them?
• Wulf: I think Legate Rikke might find herself promoted. If they need a Governor, she would be my pick.
• Dae: Interim Governors in Akavir often cursed the promotion.
• Wulf: And others gritted their teeth and excelled. I think Legate Rikke would be the latter.
• Dae: What if His Imperial Majesty asked you to fulfill that role?
• Wulf: He would not, as he knows I need to be free of such burdens to tackle fun things like Oblivion Gates appearing inside cities.
• Dae: What if he names you Heir Presumptive?
• Wulf: He knows not to. I must also ask General Tullius about Ghorbash Iron Hand. If he approves of Ghorbash, I will accept Ghorbash’s recommendation concerning Borgakh Steel Heart.
• Kharjo: Visiting that one’s stronghold would be required.
• Wulf: I have been to Dushnikh Yal before and can teleport us there. I will take Volendrung with me as proof of my status as Malacath’s champion. That may be handy if Chief Larak has objections to Ghorbash’s recruitment. But he should not object, as he is a veteran of The Imperial Army.
• Jo’rassa: Are they related?
• Wulf: Borgakh is his daughter.
• Jo’rassa: So, we would have a son of one chief and daughter of another as Dragonguard.
• Wulf: Yes, and Borgakh would be fleeing an arranged marriage. Doesn’t that sound familiar?
• Kharjo: This one is getting dizzy thinking about all this teleporting around Skyrim.
• Wulf: Perhaps the mages at The College of Winterhold can help with the dizziness, for that would be our next destination.
• Kharjo: Wulf must hand over the samples from Bthardamz and our blue friend.
• Wulf: Yes. I must stress the gravity of the problem to Arch-Mage Aren so that all possible resources are used to find a cure.
• Jin: They worked tirelessly to figure out some properties of The Black Heart.
• Wulf: An apprentice mage, J’zargo, was not invited to assist. But he suggested something that led to a breakthrough with The Black Heart.
• Kharjo: He is Khajiiti, yes?
• Wulf: Yes, and he is also Baandari. He has a habit of salvaging magical items.
• Kharjo: Well, if other ones discard them, it is that one’s duty to salvage them.
• Jo’rassa: That is why Khajiiti were banned from Skyrim’s cities until recently.
• Wulf: The Arch-Mage is aware of cultural differences and is lenient. However, there is a chance an angry Master Mage will treat J’zargo to a Fireball enema.
• Jo’rassa: J’zargo must also recognise cultural differences and adapt.
• Wulf: It is not always up to the host to change.
• Kharjo: This one will probably regret asking, but is there somewhere else after Winterhold?
• Wulf: Indeed, there is. Keeper Carcette needs to be informed about the commune and what is being done to protect Skyrim.
• Kharjo: Khajiit is not a seer, but this one foresees Carcette asking us a favour. The Vigil is low in number, and evil does not stop while Vigilants wait for reinforcements.
• Wulf: We should have all the other trips over by 1:00 PM. Helping with a task would fill in the rest of the day.
• Dae: Perhaps a whole week!
• Kharjo: Consuming alcohol in our wonderful inn could fill the rest of the day.
• Wulf: Perhaps we should move out of Aurane for a month and sleep in tents. I think some of you are getting too soft. I would call you milk-drinkers, but so am I. At least I like mine cold. How can people drink warm milk?
• Dae: With their mouths, Wulf. You can try other orifices if you want.
• Wulf: Okay, I see my soon-to-be daughter asking opinions on her dress. I had better give her mine.
• Jo’rassa: You are male, so any opinion expressed is null and void.
• Wulf: Is that so? I bet she asks a certain apprentice blacksmith his opinion.
• Jo’rassa: You have no idea, do you?
• Wulf: What?
• Jo’rassa: Olette will have a spotter. She will walk past Oliver without saying a word or glancing at him. Then, her spotter will report Oliver’s reaction.
• Wulf: I will ask Auryen if he has any manuals on female child-rearing.
• Jo’rassa: It is easy till they start maturing. After that, you have no hope of understanding. Lucky for Olette, she has access to dozens of intelligent females to provide advice.
• Wulf: On that misogynistic note, let us start the day.

I quickly rushed over and intercepted Olette, who was on the path that coincidently passed the foundry.

“Good morning, soon-to-be Lady Olette Welkynd.”

“Good morning, soon-to-be lucky father of the most wonderful daughter imaginable.”

“I hope those chests of clothes are neatly packed away and not strewn all over.”

“Ahh…well…they will be. I might have to change into another dress, so why put them away now.”

“Oh, if a certain sweaty apprentice doesn’t stare with love in his eyes, the dress is not good enough.”

“I would settle for a look of lust and his tongue hanging out.”

“Olette!”

“Haha. You have a few years before you must worry about that stuff, Cap’n.”

“I would hope so. I do not think castration would affect Oliver’s blacksmithing, but you never know.”

“Cap’n!”

“Just remember, Olette, he is a few years older than you.”

“Yes, and he is probably keen to wet his willy.”

“Okay, you are trying to shock me and will fail.”

“Oh, what was that ‘OLETTE!’ a few seconds ago?”

“Now, I know there are a lot of nice clothes in our collection. I also know most of them would need to be tailored to fit you, which can dramatically change their look. Therefore, She Who Must Be Obeyed suggested a shopping trip in Solitude.”

“And I wouldn’t have to buy just one outfit for the Vici wedding?”

“No, Olette, Rigmor told me you can spend my money to your heart’s content. You will need an outfit for Elisif’s coronation and another for the museum opening. You and Rigmor can list significant events that need a new outfit.”

“Like breakfast, going to the privy, walking these lovely gardens, etc.”

“Why did I agree to being made poor?”

“Did Rigmor bat her eyelashes?”

“It was a discussion via Mara’s Rings. But yes, Rigmor did the telepathic version of eyelid batting.”

“Will you be coming along to spoil the female atmosphere?”

“No. You, Celestine, Rigmor and whatever other ladies want to tag along can spend the day shopping without me. You will have a bottomless purse, but I expect some restraint.”

“A few months ago, I was risking my life selling information on the streets of Riften. I am a bit dizzy with the transition to stuck-up noble, so forgive me if restraint becomes difficult.”

I laughed and went to ruffle Olette’s hair. That is one thing she cannot stand. She deftly avoided my hand and then ran past me.

She yelled, “And I will still call you Cap’n!”

I wore a broad smile as my squad joined me. Olette is still a little girl in the eyes of many. Physically, she is. However, Olette was a street urchin who saw and heard the gamut of adult behaviours and vices. Such children grow up quickly or become victims of those adult behaviours and vices. Olette used her skills of observation and bargaining to earn money. It was dangerous but far safer than the alternatives.

We barely came out of the ether when Auryen rushed up to me.

“Guildmaster, I have finished reading your unredacted journals. I now understand why your need for secrecy is paramount.”

“That is why I asked Vayu to provide them to you. I was tired of keeping you ignorant when I trusted you completely.”

“Of course, we cannot discuss my many questions here. Perhaps we can have a private meeting soon?”

“Certainly. We shall do that in my Aetherius Room.”

“Oh…that will be…interesting.”

“You will slowly die while we are there, but I think we can finish our discussion before you drop dead.”

“When Vayu visited, he mentioned you may be visiting Evermore to investigate the problems there.”

“Yes, I have been asked by gods and my emperor to do so.”

‘I have taken the liberty to source what I can on the recent history of that kingdom. However, you may have to look back to the first era to understand the people there fully. I will send what I am compiling to the Safe House.”

“Did Vayu mention the plague spreading across Evermore?”

“He said there was one, but I have not been told its cause and effect.”

“It has no name, but those who contract it are called Afflicted. It is a name given by the creator of the plague, Lord Peryite. It is spread via breath and a green mucus regurgitated by carriers. The mucus is highly corrosive, although Dwemer metal is resistant. I also think modified plants and a green sludge can spread the plague, but await confirmation from The College of Winterhold.”

“Are there visible symptoms?”

“Pale-skinned people turn red and have black pustules breaking their skin like small boils. Orsimer are resistant to it, but I know Khajiiti, Nords, Altmer, Breton, Bosmer, and Dunmer can catch it. I do not know if Argonian or other races can catch it. I have a hunch that Lord Peryite left Orsimer immune to facilitate the chaos within Evermore. I do not yet know the disease’s effect on internal organs or the reason for morbidity.”

“That is enough information for me to start searching. Lord Peryite has been known to use certain diseases and plagues more than once.”

“Anything you find would be of benefit.”

“It does seem somebody or some entity is determined to spread chaos in Evermore.”

“The situation will be complicated, with many parties contributing to that chaos. Several Daedric Princes would enjoy the spectacle.”

“When you showed me the Thalmor dossier about me, I thought your trust would decrease.”

“No, Auryen. I am adept at determining the good from the bad. Plus, you now know I have extra skills to aid with that determination. Also, they had similar dossiers on many other Altmer living in Skyrim. Of them all, only one is cooperating with them.”

“I hope you will trust the new member of our guild. I think she would be invaluable if she were to travel with you to Evermore and future investigations of Dwemer ruins.”

“Oh, who is she?”

A heavily accented voice behind me said, “I am Remiel Biechamp, Dwemechanic.”

I walked around the diminutive Breton, making her turn to face me so I could see Auryen as I talked.

• Wulf: A Dwemechanic huh? Well, you do not meet one of them every day.
• Remiel: Ahh…I invented the word so you could never meet another.
• Wulf: Unless you breed baby Dwemechanics in the future!
• Auryen: Forgive Lord Welkynd. His humour is a required taste.
• Wulf: Since Altmer lack a sense of humour, that is an unqualified slander.
• Auryen: A Nord blacksmith is working on a warm day in Cyrodiil when he receives an order from a Legion general. Five hundred steel boots are needed in three days. The Nord begins working, taking regular breaks and finishes in four days. The Legion general is disappointed at the delay but is at least happy to have the armour ready. That is until he sees rows of five hundred left boots.
• Wulf: And we wait patiently for the punchline…
• Remiel: That was Altmer humour?
• Auryen: I would be rolling on the floor laughing if I had not heard it so often.
• Wulf: I suppose you heard some of our conversation.
• Remiel: All of it, but I am used to taller people not noticing me.
• Wulf: You were behind me. I might be The Dragonborn, but I do not have eyes on my back. Even if I did, why would I be looking down?
• Remiel: Auryen warned me that I would have to keep secrets he has recently been entrusted with to travel with you. It is hard to commit to such a thing without knowing the nature of such secrets.
• Wulf: Let us start with my titles. They should give you some idea of the tasks I perform.
• Remiel: Dragonborn is impressive enough.
• Wulf: I am Wulf Welkynd, Dragonborn and Champion of The Divines, Azura, Boethia, Hermaeus Mora, Malacath, Meridia and Sheogorath. I am a Thane of all nine Holds and a general of The Imperial Army. I own many properties, including several orphanages that I fund one hundred per cent.
• Remiel: You are a champion of Daedric Princes?
• Wulf: Yes, and some of them who named me champion do not like me much.
• Auryen: Some would like to disembowel you and tie your intestines into knots.
• Wulf: And they are the nicer ones!
• Auryen: When was Malacath added to the list?
• Wulf: A few days ago. You can get a replica of Volendrung made for display when I return from Evermore. I will take it with me in case negotiating with Orsimer is required.
• Auryen: Oh my, Volendrung! The last mortal to own that was The Champion of Kvatch.
• Wulf: Malacath and I have a truce, Auryen. He knows I respect Orsimer and is keen for me to help those in Evermore.
• Auryen: Like other Dark Lords who do not want Nirn destroyed, you are logically his champion.
• Remiel: Is that the sort of thing I would have to get used to? This casual discussion about gods, as if everybody chats with them?
• Auryen: I told you, Remiel. If you enter Lord Welkynd’s world, you must accept gobblygook.
• Remiel: That is a helpful word. I could see it used when discussing Dwemer.
• Wulf: What is the principle of gobblygook?
• Remiel: Accept that some things are, and we cannot always have complete answers to mysteries.
• Wulf: Wow, that is an excellent summation.
• Auryen: The sort of thing a scholar hundreds of years old might come up with.
• Remiel: Yes, it was Auryen’s summation.
• Wulf: Let us go to the Safe House and discuss things there, Remiel.
• Remiel: Not Aetherius?
• Wulf: Not yet. Perhaps another time you can visit and see The Nine’s plane. It is pretty spectacular in places.
• Remiel: Okay.
• Wulf: The Dragonguard will accompany us but will make themselves busy while we chat.

Remiel followed us to the Safe House.

I told her, “Your accent tells me you come from Wayrest.”

“Okay, what part of Wayrest?”

“The city for which the kingdom is now named. Being a port city, Wayrest is very cosmopolitan. Elements from different cultures have become part of the local vocabulary and sculpted the accent. Your inflexions on certain consonants depending on position are the giveaway.”

“Are you an expert on accents?”

“I am very knowledgeable about many subjects. The most prominent experts have trained me in their fields.”

“All scholars, especially those who call themselves professors, think they are the most prominent experts. That is abundantly clear when dealing with Dwemer scholars.”

“When a god teaches me something, I do not question their expertise. As for Dwemer scholars, we can discuss that can of worms later.”

“Can of worms?”

“I come from a small island that is part of Roscrea. Many colloquialisms common there are relatively unknown elsewhere.”

“Is gobblygook a word from Roscrea?”

“No, that is an Ayleidoon word used by those enslaved by the Ayleid. It was taught to me by Saint Alessia.”

“Gods taught you, like at university or college?”

“Yes. Now, let us discuss you.”

“Well, you know I come from the city of Wayrest. It is beautiful and the hub of trade in High Rock.”

“I have never seen Iliac Bay, but all references speak of its beauty.”

 “The city assaults your senses. All sorts of people pass through it. There is the pervasive smell of the sea and the background noise of a myriad of languages spoken. The abundant art and depositories of knowledge add to its charm.”

“But…”

“How did you know there was going to be a but?”

“Just accept that I am an all-around smartarse.”

 “Okay, that seems it will be easy to do. The evidence is overwhelming!”

“You will find I lack an ego, and jealous barbs are wasted on me. Please continue.”

“Jealous?”

“Continue with the but.”

“But for all its beauty on the outside, the inside is rotten to the core!”

“Oh, the shock! How can that be?”

“Well, for starters, its king sold out the city. He ordered the gates left open, hoping that expected raiders would slaughter his enemies and recognise an ally.”

“That was in 4E 188. Somebody contracted The Dark Brotherhood to kill King Barynia. He was informed of this by a spy within the guild’s ranks. The spy could not tell the king who paid for the contract. Since the king had a long list of enemies, he made a deal with Redguard Corsairs. He would leave the gates open, and the raiders would let him live if they captured the city. King Barynia hoped, as you indicated, that the raiders would kill his enemies. I do not believe The Dark Brotherhood killed him, as they would not hide that fact but use it to attract new clients. The most prominent theory is that The Forgotten Hero, the spy, escorted the king to the port. After helping to repel the corsairs and close the gates, The Forgotten Hero took King Barynia to a corsair ship and let them decide his fate. What the corsairs did with him is unknown, but logic says they kept him alive as he might have earned a ransom.”

“Smartarse.”

“Lord Smartarse.”

“The devastation wrought on the city was heartbreaking. So much that was beautiful and familiar was destroyed. I was about ten years of age when it happened.”

“You are in your early twenties?”

“Do I look older or younger?”

“I gave up trying to guess the ages of Breton years ago.”

“Thankfully, most of my memories of that time have lessened in their horror over the years.”

“Is there anything still haunting you?”

“Yes, sometimes when trying to sleep, I can see my mother pushing me into the cellar and my father standing with his old sword at its entrance.”

“You are seeing this from a third-person perspective.”

“How did you know?”

“Smartarse.”

“Anyway, it all passed us over. I also remember complaining that I was bored and wanted to go out to play. I was a spoiled child, and I guess I got lucky.”

“You were a child of ten who was yet to be exposed to war and violence. Wanting to play is not a sign of being spoiled. I bet your parents did not try and explain the danger, thinking you would not understand. Adults often underestimate children.”

“Do you have children?”

“Several hundred.”

“Oh…it must be something in Roscrea’s water then.”

“No, I have orphanages. I have not sired a child of my own.”

“Oh, you mentioned the orphanages earlier. I already knew about them because I did some research. I have also read your redacted journals.”

“I hope you did not form an opinion based on the news sheets!”

“No. Nor the many penny-dreadful novels! Although I did enjoy the romance ones.”

“I have heard that some corsairs returned with less black powder and more diplomacy.”

“Many Wayrest citizens prefer them over the old nobility as they have a strict code of conduct and seem honest. Their charm makes it easy to forget the raping and pillaging they inflicted. However, nobody can decide who should rule. In the meantime, a council of cut-throats and traitors runs it without a code of conduct, and they are invariably dishonest. When the citizens decide who should rule, I doubt the council will step aside and honour the people’s will. There will be more fighting, more destruction, and more death.”

“His Imperial Majesty will intervene if it looks like neighbouring kingdoms will take advantage of the unrest.”

“As long as he places the people’s choice in charge, that would be an acceptable outcome.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“No. I have never been into politics. I would rather spend time deciphering Dwemer machines than shifting political factions.”

“Why have you joined the Explorers Society?”

“I have seen nearly all the known Dwemer ruins in High Rock and Hammerfell. Strolling through them alone or with a handful of scholarly types is unhealthy. So, a fortune is spent hiring guards. But I often asked myself, would they risk their lives for a few hundred septims? When I heard about your museum and the Explorers Guild, I came here and presented myself to Auryen.”

“Did he know of you?”

“Not at all, as I have not published anything. I am not interested in quarrelling with old men who think their theories are correct.”

“Calcelmo is the worst.”

“Cranky old bas…person.”

“Bastard is an apt word. I think he and Madras would try and kill each other if left alone in a room.”

“Madras has been very welcoming. He does not mind new or opposing theories. He grilled me about Dwemer history and technology and the ruins I explored. Ultimately, he told Auryen that my knowledge was remarkable for someone so young. Calcelmo’s problem is how hard he tried to disprove everything Madras published. There is no hint that Madras might be right or that a theory has merit.”

“And how about Professor Marassi?”

“What a lovely gentleman, and not once has he tried to make me into a stew!”

“He is not a member of The Green Pact.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh…then hahaha.”

“He is a dig-in-the-dirt archaeologist, and I adore all things, including floors, made of Dwemer metal. Still, pursuing knowledge is a shared passion, so we are more similar than you may expect.”

“And Latoria?”

“She is a delight, and if we could bottle her enthusiasm, we could retire rich!”

“I am already very wealthy and have no intention of retiring.”

“I am speaking Tamrielic and not Bretonic, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but it seems my sarcasm is beyond your comprehension.”

“I must warn you that older siblings make for excellent teachers in sarcasm and snarky remarks.”

“I have many orphans that hone my skills in those subjects. Please, tell me more about your family.”

“Mother and Father live in Wayrest. My sister is somewhere in this world unless she has found a way to reach a different one.”

“What is your mother like?”

“She is a painter. Wayrest is already a gem, but her art makes it look like something from Aetherius.”

“Your mother makes Wayrest look like vast areas of nothing with the occasional star?”

“You said you might show me the sites of Aetherius, so there must be more to it than that!”

“Note to self. Remiel’s sense of humour is suppressed by logic. I might have to point out humour to her.”

“Are you always sarcastic?”

“No, as my friends will attest, sometimes I am asleep. Please, I am interested in your family. Does your mother exhibit her work? Is she well known?”

“No, she is not famous by any means. However, enough merchants pass through the city that she makes a decent income.”

“Are you artistic?”

“Ahh, well, Mother tried to teach me once, and it did not go well. But she supports me on the path I have decided to travel. The path of a scholar.”

“Oh, so you are not a barmaid?”

“I get it now. Droll humour from a dull person.”

“That is the spirit! You said your father stood with his old sword in hand. Was he a soldier?”

“Well, he is not technically my father. My real father died when I was a baby. He was a fisherman, and I guess he had a boat accident or something like that. Mother remarried when I was five, and I have never known him as anything other than my father.”

“What is his profession?”

“He is a merchant. I guess my mother has a thing for sailors. He travels between High Rock and Hammerfell, making sales and finding deals. He taught me how to use a dagger. It is a good skill to have when one of your shipments is being raided.”

“Is that the only weapon you are proficient with?”

“Maybe you’ll find out how proficient when you wake up with one in your ass!”

“The Dragonguard and I do not face sleeping opponents. We face creatures from your nightmares. Our opponents might be mortal, immortal or undead. We are often outnumbered by a factor of ten or more and must fight as a cohesive unit to survive. I have killed thousands in battle, for that is what is required to protect the innocent. That is what we do even when exploring Dwemer ruins. I am a keen archaeologist but do not have the spare time to indulge in that pastime. When we enter a ruin, Dwemer or otherwise, we do so to protect others either directly or indirectly. Do you understand, Remiel?”

‘I…ahh…umm…”

“How well do you think your daggers would do against a dragon? What about a Lich or Vampire Lord?”

“I am very good with a crossbow and have thoughts on improving their design.”

“As you can see, Dragonguard have individual tastes in armour and weapons. Some of the most powerful dweomer enhance all their equipment. I am a Sparksmith of exceptional skill and one of the most powerful mages on Nirn. So, if you become a Dragonguard, your lethality in combat would be improved beyond what you could ever achieve without them. Many of my companions are Weapon Masters and can improve your combat skills. I can provide the highest quality weapons, hone them to perfection and enhance them with dweomer. The same goes for armour. Do you dual wield?”

“Yes.”

“If you have never experienced combat in a confined space while outnumbered, you cannot say for certain how you will do. It takes time to become a cohesive member of a squad. Each squad consists of three melee fighters and a mage. The Dragonguard are used to swapping between squads as needs dictate.”

“I understand.”

“No, you do not. Most Dwemer ruins you have visited have been picked over by numerous grave robbers, archaeologists, etc. We must enter places no mortal has visited in a very long time. We are often the first to meet the Lich, Dragon Priest, or other nasty character that runs the place and calls it home. Sometimes, we are not the first to meet them, but we are the first to survive. We are not searching for Dwemer trinkets to pay for bodyguards. If we are searching for something, it is usually an artefact that can aid our task or is needed to complete a task. So, even if I only ever take you to Dwemer ruins, it will not be like any expedition you have done before.”

“So, you will not let me be a Dragonguard because I am not a skilled warrior.”

“I did not say that, but you must comprehend the dangers within unexplored Dwemer ruins. You have read my redacted journals. Alftand and Avanchnzel would not have been survivable by you and a few paid guards. You certainly would not have survived Bthardamz, which I visited yesterday, even with a dozen guards to protect you.”

“Okay, I get it. The danger is high, but not only do you explore these places, you help people. Being a scholar can seem like a selfish pursuit to some. In many ways, it is, but you value knowledge, hence your museum. Knowledge can also help people, which is what I hope my study of Dwemer will achieve. Not only the technology but the people. They made mistakes even if geniuses in some fields.”

“We find the desiccated remains of many scholars within ruins. Like mages who forget caution when pursuing knowledge, they lose sight of the danger. The Explorers Society rely on us to protect them, as they know the increased dangers of rarely visited ruins. You would not replace a Dragonguard but be an extension of the Explorers Society. You would have to know the secrets we guard, but I envision you living in this Safe House or within the museum or guild headquarters if you do not mind their accommodation. You have a large research laboratory in this place, so if that interests you, you might as well live here. But let us not jump ahead. Now, tell me about your sister.”

“She is my father’s daughter, so my step-sister. She is also twelve years older than I am.”

“She is in her early thirties! Oh my, does she have lots of wrinkles?”

“How old are you?”

“No more than one or two years older than you. But I have lived for far longer.”

“Huh?”

“I could not learn what was needed between leaving Roscrea and Alduin’s arrival. So, when I am in Aetherius, I vary the relative speed of linear time.”

“Oh, you spent many years there, but the time on Nirn was a fraction of those years.”

“Yep. And do not ask how that works.”

“Gobblygook.”

“I do not age while in Aetherius.”

“I gave up trying to guess the ages of Nords years ago.”

“You twist my own words but are in error. I am not a Nord. Nor do I mention my race in my journals.”

“I don’t see any Mer in you.”

“What I am is one of those secrets, Remiel. I am guessing your sister is a sailor, pirate, or sword for hire.”

“She is a mercenary and handy with a battleaxe. She goes anywhere if there is coin to be made.”

“Mercenaries come in all forms. Some are honourable, but you suggest your sister’s only concern is money. I have no respect for that type of mercenary. The Fighter’s Guild is the honourable type. They are absent in Skyrim, and their substitutes, The Companions, are the worst type. They would not save their grandmother unless she paid upfront.”

“You do not hesitate to express your opinions.”

“I do not have time for wishy-washy stuff. Say what you mean, or keep silent. That is my motto.”

“Wishy-washy?”

“That one is from Bruma.”

“What do you want to know about Evermore?”

“Nothing for the moment. I will form questions based on the information Auryen provides. Please explain your fascination with the Dwemer and their ruins.”

“There is always something new and interesting to discover. The Dwemer were master engineers with technology far beyond anything any other race has achieved. Every ruin is a chance to discover some new machine and learn secrets of Nirn beyond our wildest dreams. I cannot wait to see what Skyrim has in store for me.”

“The Dwemer were morons and deserved to vanish up their backsides. Tell me, Remiel, have you ever seen Dwemer artwork?”

“Ahh…no….”

“Either have I. Yet your mother captures the secrets of Nirn in her paintings. As a bonus, she is not in danger of wiping out the Breton race.”

“It seems you have little respect for the Dwemer.”

“I have no respect for them. The Dwemer were obsessed with discovering the secrets of the gods. It did not matter if Aedra, Daedra or others. To the Dwemer, all gods were hoarders of secrets they decided should be theirs. There are many creation myths, and all may be true as Dragon Breaks necessitate Lord Akatosh’s assistants, female Dov called Jills, to splice together disparate timelines. But everybody at some stage must ask themselves, who created the gods?”

“Have you asked them?”

“Yes, and they confirmed my logical conclusion. Aedra, Daedra and Magna-Ge did not create Aurbis. Unlike many of the natural laws of Mundus, they did not dictate the metaphysics of Aurbis. They are subject to them as we are. They do not understand all the laws of metaphysics. The et-Ada manipulated Creatia, a source of energy they knew existed and how to utilise, to create Mundus and Nirn and much of the flora and fauna of this planet. Creatia leaks into Oblivion. The Daedric Princes use this trace of Creatia to change things made by Aedra. They do not make things from scratch. All of these gods use Creatia without knowing how it came to be. The Dwemer were seeking knowledge those who created their world did not possess. That displayed a level of arrogance that would shock a Thalmor!”

“Even if morally suspect, their achievements are praiseworthy.”

“Are they? Some of the larger automatons use Black Soul Gems. Whose souls were used? I doubt the Dwemer found enough almost-dead people to harvest the souls upon their demise. When the Falmer asked for help, Dwemer blinded them, turning a once proud race into enslaved creatures. They did not share their machines and other technologies when all the people of Nirn could have benefited from them.”

“Let me guess, you do not like exploring Dwemer ruins.”

“I enter Dwemer ruins to accomplish my tasks or to aid the Explorers Society. I have no intellectual interest in them. Their architecture is the same, their layouts make no sense, there are no signs to indicate what an area was used for, and sometimes you encounter dead Dwemechanics.”

“Apart from my recent knowledge of what is happening in Evermore, would I be useful to you?”

“My distaste for all things Dwemer does not extend to scholars who dedicate their lives learning about them. I admire the enthusiasm of Madras and Calcelmo. If I stroll through Dwemer ruins, your insights would be of great value. I do not take Madras because I will not entrust my secrets to him. When we help with archaeological digs, we are cautious about what we say around the society’s members.”

“You do not think they would deliberately tell your secrets.”

“If you heard or witnessed something extraordinary, how difficult would it be not to discuss it? Perhaps, after a few meads at a tavern, tall tales are told, as often happens. The Dragonguard and I gleam useful information from tavern talk, and so do unsavoury people. The more people who know a secret, the more chance it is blabbed.”

“So, what happens from here?”

“I sometimes approve new Dragonguard, although strictly, the final say should come from Vayu. He is the Dragonguard Shaman and Grandmaster in Skyrim. He will visit in a few days and talk to you. I advise you, Dwemechanic Remiel Biechamp, to answer him truthfully. I suspect you left home for reasons that have nothing to do with being a Dwemer scholar.”

“I…ah…well…what makes you think that?”

“To become so knowledgeable at such a young age, you must have been visiting Dwemer ruins since your late teens. That is supported by your claim of having explored many sites in Hammerfell and High Rock. I can name twelve sites in Hammerfell but only four in High Rock. Even so, visiting sixteen Dwemer sites, including the travelling between them, would take several years.”

“There are many more in Hammerfell and High Rock than sixteen.”

“As I thought, which supports my theory, you have been travelling since you were a teenager. I think you decided to tackle Dwemer ruins not out of scholarly interest at first but as a source of income. Once you visited a couple, your interest became more scholarly. But travelling through ruins would not be enough to gather the knowledge you possess. Books can be consumed as you travel. However, some things need experimentation and tinkering to understand. Therefore, you have had several long-term places of residence.”

“You don’t know any of this for sure.”

“No, it is speculation, but the proposition is supported by logic and probability.”

“I concede, many people think Dwemer ruins are filled with priceless artefacts.”

“Any Dwemer lump of metal can be passed off as priceless to the gullible. That includes teenage Bretons looking for a way to earn money when away from home.”

“I also earn money with some potion brewing on the side.”

“Are you self-taught?”

“Yes.”

“So, not only do you blow things up while experimenting with Dwemer technology, alchemical reactions add to the chaos.”

“What makes you….”

“It is speculation, but the proposition is supported by logic and probability.”

“Do you always say that?”

“What do you think?”

“Yes, but that is speculation. However, the proposition is supported by logic and probability.”

“Well done. Now, back to exploding Dwemer technology and experimental potion formulae.”

“Well, they do not blow up as often as they used to, but sometimes my potions have unexpected side effects. And they also taste awful!”

“This smartarse is a Master Mage and Master Alchemist. So, if you were a Dragonguard, I would gladly teach you, or at least point out why your potions taste like privy water and make the imbiber flatulent.”

“Yes, that is what happens!”

“That is usually the result of incorrect reagent proportions and preparation.”

“So, if my reason for leaving home was not to pursue an interest in the Dwemer, what was it?”

“I have suspicions but do not expect you to tell the reason now. Your stepfather is a trader, and they are rarely poor in High Rock. Therefore, I doubt your family is short of money. So, it is odd that you and your step-sister have chosen professions that keep you away from your family and, I suspect, Wayrest.”

“Lord Smartarse, indeed!”

“You need time to ponder what has been said here. Vayu will explain why I have secrets. Auryen now understands, so perhaps you can ask him beforehand. The Dragonguard consists of many races, social statuses, and backgrounds. Ask Vayu about Celestine, his fiancé. I think you may find much in common with her.”

“This has been a unique experience, Lord Welkynd.”

“Vayu will talk more conventionally. There are reasons why I am sometimes serious, flippant, accepting, and seemingly judgemental during conversation.”

“You want to catch the other person off guard and perhaps learn something they did not mean to divulge.”

“Excellent! You have a nimble mind, Remiel. It has been a pleasure meeting you.”

 As Remiel headed to the Safe House’s workroom and laboratory, the Dragonguard followed me outside.

• Kharjo: Khajiit thinks that Remiel understood your methodology.
• Dae: Unlike you, Kharjo.
• Kharjo: Indeed, this one thought Skooma Cat had blessed Wulf.
• Jo’rassa: Well, he is insane, sort of.
• Wulf: And I oversee monthly stipends, not sort of.
• Jo’rassa: Ah…but he is utterly sane with no sign of the Skooma Cat!
• Jin: You think Remiel is running from something?
• Wulf: I think her family is wealthy, and merchants, even those in Wayrest, are a form of nobility in High Rock.
• Jin: You suggested she ask Vayu about Celestine because you suspect Remiel is running from an arranged marriage.
• Wulf: Yes, and Vayu will explain to Remiel why we must know these things about her.
• Dae: We must protect those who become a Dragonguard and the secrets. Therefore, we must be aware of any possible danger to either.
• Wulf: We can discuss Remiel in more detail later. She is coming down the steps, so let us head to The Blue Palace.

As we walked towards the palace, we were recognised by guards and citizens. I do not seek admiration, but it can be helpful when the need arises.

Rigmor was angry, so I did not try and talk to her. Instead, I smiled as I imagined her tearing into an idiot supplicant.