Fredas, 16^th Morning Star, 4E 202

& Loredas, 17^th Morning Star, 4E 202

Only after I had eaten till full did Rigmor allow me to greet Sister Jeanna.

• Wulf: Oliver looks worn out. You must have set quite a pace, Sister Jeanna.
• Jeanna: A platoon heading for the army camped there escorted us to the border. Their pace was swift and reminded Oliver why he never enlisted.
• Aranea: I have just met Sister Jeanna and find her inspirational.
• Wulf: You both have a lot in common, Priestess Aranea. Making sacrifices for your beliefs is not as common as we would hope. Sister Jeanna could be living the luxurious life as a noble of her kingdom.
• Jeanna: Giving up my bed for sleeping rolls was the most challenging transition. And you slept in a tent for nearly two centuries!
• Aranea: I was always in the presence of Lady Azura. You carry Lady Mara’s love with you. It makes such burdens easier to bear.
• Jeanna: We entered Mother’s Temple of Grace and were set upon by a young lady.
• Wulf: Dusk.
• Jeanna: Apparently, Lady Mara told her to seek you out.
• Wulf: Yes, and I am glad she did. But rescuing Dusk from her fate was only the start.
• Jeanna: The temple felt right, and Dusk explained that Erandur activated the shrine. He has done the same here.
• Wulf: Yes, and hopefully, all Nine shrines will be activated soon.
• Jeanna: I cannot recall speaking to Dusk as that was Lady Mara. However, I have spoken to the lingering spirits of children in Evermore City. They did not recall their horror but pleaded for justice and the prevention of further abuse.
• Wulf: Even performing Arkay’s Rights for such spirits will not allow them to enter Aetherius. They have chosen to remain in Mundus. I must be careful and not scare the perpetrators into hiding. Lady Mara trusts I can do what is needed, but it will be challenging.
• Aranea: I do not think there is one amongst the Divine Knights who would not prefer to rip down walls and rescue any children in danger.
• Jeanna: Diplomacy failed in Arnima. However, I doubt Lady Namira’s plans could have been stopped. They have been in motion for decades.
• Wulf: I do not think Lady Namira is the only Dark Lord with plans in Evermore. The xenophobia and class divides are ideal recruiting tools for the less pleasant Daedric Princes.
• Aranea: I have not experienced fear or distrust because I am a devotee of Lady Azura. Despite the biased education Evermore’s citizens receive, they know that entire nations exist that worship Daedric Princes without being evil. The Ayleid are held up as examples of how evil worshipping Dark Lords is, but even the illiterate know that there were some Ayleid that worshipped less extreme Dark Lords and others that worshipped Aedra.
• Jeanna: You know what happened at Munstor and have witnessed the wickedness in this city. Did you hear of the beginning of Lord Mortifayne’s reign of terror?
• Wulf: I thought it started mildly and has increased in severity since Mortifayne’s wife was murdered.
• Jeanna: Before you deal with King Sigmayne and the senior nobles of Evermore, you must understand what has been tolerated for decades.
• Wulf: Please, Sister Jeanna, tell me the sordid tale.
• Jeanna: Less than three months after the Munstor massacre, Lord Mortifayne accused Geffir Halon, a previously trusted and loved court advisor, of High Treason. The Halon family had been confidants of many Lords and Ladies of Raven Spring for over a hundred years, and there was no evidence of anything resembling High Treason in Geffir’s actions.
• Wulf: Was it just Mortifayne’s paranoia creating imaginary crimes, or did Geffir oppose Mortifayne in court?
• Jeanna: Geffir strongly opposed renaming Raven Spring to Arnima and said so in court and within the local inns.
• Wulf: And that got turned into High Treason.
• Jeanna: Geffir, his wife, mother, father, two sons, three daughters, servants and a visiting cousin were placed on spikes that entered one end and exited the other. If done with skill, the victims can live for some time.
• Wulf: And King Sigmayne knew of this atrocity?
• Jeanna: He allowed Munstor to happen, so this atrocity was mild in his estimation. He thought Lord Mortifayne demonstrated the strength required to tame The Reach by making an example of Geffir.
• Wulf: Why am I only just hearing of this?
• Jeanna: Would this knowledge have aided in your diplomatic endeavours?
• Wulf: No, it would have biased me from the beginning. I thought Mortifayne’s crimes had gradually worsened, allowing some compassion that would otherwise have been lacking. I assume no trial was held.
• Jeanna: None.
• Aranea: Now that it is too late to prevent the Oblivion Gate and Wulf must deal with King Sigmayne, Lady Mara believes Wulf should know of Geffir.
• Jeanna: That is correct.
• Wulf: I think this tale tells me something crucial.
• Jeanna: And what is that?
• Wulf: The canker that Lady Mara warned about is not the Oblivion Gate. It is the set of values that permeate this kingdom. Those values leaking into other provinces are a danger to Nirn. Instead of compassion and tolerance, bigotry and suppression would become the norms. To proceed with some form of diplomacy, I must understand the warped values the nobility of this kingdom possesses and what generates them. Up to this point, they have been superficial to my endeavours.
• Aranea: Do you think there is a basis for these warped values, as you term them?
• Wulf: It would be easy to say greed. But the basis of greed is ‘want.’ The basis of King Sigmayne’s perversion is want. It is different from desire. A primary emotion can dominate a person without checks and balances.
• Aranea: Want is the primary emotion of the Daedra you call Ambition.
• Wulf: Sister Jeanna, a mortal’s soul, was duplicated. One half is Ambition without other emotions, such as empathy, to reign it in. Therefore, it will do anything to achieve its ambition.
• Jeanna: It wants to achieve its ambition.
• Wulf: Yes, and I must think about this more. How was Dusk?
• Jeanna: Dusk told me she must learn to differentiate liars from honest people. As all children have the power to do, she has softened Priest Fenig’s heart.
• Wulf: I never asked, but do the Priests in Evermore swear a vow of chastity?
• Jeanna: Yes. I wonder what Lady Dibella would think about that?
• Wulf: I wonder what Lord Arkay thinks about Mados’ corpse being propped up in an open casket and prayed to by citizens.
• Jeanna: Priest Matthew disappointed you.
• Wulf: I am disappointed in myself. I trusted him. I trusted Governor Merosa. I must learn to be more cynical.
• Jeanna:  You and Dusk should work together to figure out the secrets to determining somebody’s truthfulness.
• Aranea: Wulf’s sword dragged the truth out of Priest Matthew.
• Jeanna: Perhaps he can give Dusk some sword lessons?
• Wulf: Excuse me, ladies, but I desire to see my friends before the excrement hits the cooling apparatus.
• Jeanna: Shit hits the fan is much more precise.
• Wulf: Yes, but I am a Divine Knight and must not use such crude words.
• Jeanna: What do you say to that, Divine Knight Aranea?
• Aranea: What a load of bullshit.
• Jeanna: I thought so.

I approached Oliver, who looked less frazzled after food and drink.

“Welcome back to Evermore, the land of beauty and friendly natives.”

“Do you think this temple is safe?”

“It would be uncomfortable for a Dremora or Daedra to enter since Lady Mara’s shrine is activated. Including Priestess Aranea, there will be five Master Mages to make things even more uncomfortable for any visitor from Oblivion.”

“I hope I can be useful when the injured and scared arrive in numbers.”

“Sister Jeanna will need your help.”

“Yes, to describe the mutilation and where a person’s lifeblood is leaking.”

“Some people get all the luck. That sounds more fun than a walk through Scuttling Void.”

“Hey, I am not complaining, just describing my immediate future with little enthusiasm.”

The four Master Mages entered the temple.

• Wulf: Master Mages Tarakel, Myvrana, Melker and Lights-the-Way, welcome to Arnima.
• Lights: I received many strange looks. I assume not many Argonians visit this city.
• Wulf: I have not seen an Argonian in Evermore. Mind you, I have visited the least friendly of places.
• Myvrana: I like the décor. The vertical open coffin with the embalmed corpse lends an atmosphere of doom.
• Wulf: That is Mados, Lady Mara’s mortal champion.
• Tarakel: Ahh, why not erect a statue instead?
• Wulf: That is an excellent question to ask Priest Matthew.
• Melker: Is that the scared little man in the funny hat who keeps glancing your way?
• Wulf: Yep. Now, there is plenty of room near the doors to set up a triage. I suggest you do so immediately.

As the mages got to work, I gathered my squad and left the temple.

The first of my friends I spoke to was Iona. She looked worried.

• Wulf: Good morning, Iona.
• Iona: Wulf, I want you to know something.
• Wulf: I am listening.
• Iona: I want you to know that the months I have been with you and the others have been the highlight of my life.
• Wulf: I am sure there will be more exciting things to look forward to.
• Iona: We shall do our best to protect these people.
• Wulf: Of that, I have no doubt.
• Iona: The brutality of their lord is on full display.
• Rigmor: It is disturbing to see how the citizens of this kingdom are treated.
• Iona: Not everybody is fortunate enough to have Countess Rigmor Ragnarsdottier as their leader.
• Wulf: Waiting for a battle to commence is always tense.
• Iona: I am ready.
• Wulf: I do not think anybody is fully prepared for what may emerge from an Oblivion Gate.
• Rigmor: If anybody can save this city, it is The Order of the Dragon and its Divine Knights.
• Iona: Yes, of course.

Iona closed her eyes, and something disturbed me about her demeanour. It played on my mind as we said hello to the rest of her squad and the others.

I was not surprised to find Inigo with Jo’rassa’s squad.

• Inigo: My friend, I was about to warn you about the approaching soldiers when Celestine appeared. You already knew they were coming.
• Rigmor: The priest spilled his guts when Wulf threatened to do it for him.
• Inigo: More dishonesty and deception? What a surprise!
• Wulf: I hope dealing with The Doom Strider is more straightforward.
• Inigo: I hope that happens before my whiskers turn grey.
• Rigmor: Wulf would like a decent gap between each Nirn-threatening crisis.
• Inigo: Oh, he can put his feet up and let Inigo the Brave make all the decisions when it is my turn to save everybody.
• Wulf: For some reason, that does not sound reassuring.
• Inigo: I like this armour. It is light and does not restrict my movement.
• Wulf: Are you jealous of Jo’rassa’s excellent red colour?
• Inigo: A blue Khajiiti in red armour would harm people’s sensibilities.
• Wulf: Make sure these vendors head for cover when trouble arrives. When dragons attacked Riften, many vendors almost died due to their reluctance to leave their goods behind.
• Inigo: I get the impression they may listen to Dae but not a Khajiiti or Redguard.
• Rigmor: He is a Nord, so they will probably also be suspicious of him.
• Wulf: Their xenophobia will vanish at the first sighting of a Daedra.
• Inigo: Well, good luck, my friend. If you bump into Lady Namira, tell her Inigo has never said a nasty word about her.

Inigo wandered towards a jeweller whose stock seemed more diverse than the food and clothing vendors. Jo’rassa approached us.

• Jo’rassa: Inigo is at it again.
• Rigmor: Do you mean him visiting a jeweller?
• Wulf: Perhaps he is looking for a ring?
• Jo’rassa: Please, I am already having nightmares about Daedra!
• Rigmor: Wulf has been having a guilt trip lately. He worries that he has stopped his friends from living their everyday lives.
• Jo’rassa: We cannot ignore Wulf’s dangers or allow him to risk everything for us without contributing to the effort.
• Rigmor: Since when has logic stopped Wulf from worrying?
• Wulf: Excuse me, the topic of discussion is standing here.
• Rigmor: Shush, we are talking about you and not to you!
• Wulf: Yes, milady. Forgive me.
• Rigmor: Would it be so terrible, Jo’rassa, if Inigo were to propose?
• Jo’rassa: I am still learning to trust him, Rigmor. It hurt when he left without saying a word.
• Rigmor: I advise giving hints on the type of rings you like. That is better than having to accept something ugly.
• Jo’rassa: Yes, but an ugly ring gives me an excuse to refuse a proposal.
• Rigmor: Sorry, I love you, but that ring is horrible!
• Jo’rassa: Callous but necessary.
• Wulf: What happens if he picks the perfect ring?
• Rigmor: Did Wulf talk without permission?
• Jo’rassa: I think he got confused because he is no longer the topic of conversation.
• Rigmor: Jo’rassa can accept the proposal and break off the engagement later if the ring is pretty. That way, she can keep the ring. These things are obvious, and I am ashamed you need such a basic education.
• Wulf: I am sorry I did not enrol in the Callous Female Plots course.

Vayu summoned me. He was aboard Rava watching for the approach of Merosa and company.

By the time we reached the front gates, Vayu was with his squad.

• Wulf: How many are there, Vayu?
• Vayu: Only about a dozen approach the gates. Another two dozen are further back.
• Rigmor: They probably do not want to look like an invading force and hope to negotiate Mortifayne’s surrender.
• Vayu: That is my impression. Still, they come with a catapult in tow, which hints at their intention.
• Wulf: This city’s walls and doors are pretty robust. Before allowing a siege, I would arrest Governor Merosa and give them a chance to withdraw. If they attacked, they would die.
• Vayu: There is a rather tall knight with them. Well, tall for a Breton.
• Wulf: Sir Horustair. If King Sigmayne has knighted him, he will likely be as corrupt as the two fake knights who haunt this city.
• Rigmor: Since they are here, I hope King Sigmayne’s forces fight for the citizens of Arnima.
• Vayu: It would look bad if Legionnaires died fighting, and King Sigmayne’s troops ran away.
• Erandur: Wulf, what are you going to do about Merosa?
• Wulf: I cannot spare anybody to take her into custody. So, if I have time, I shall arrest her and shackle her to a post outside.
• Vayu: She is guilty of treason. You could cut her down even though a trial would be more satisfying.
• Wulf: Trials of high-ranking nobles act as lessons. They reassure citizens that nobody is above Imperial Law and remind nobles of the same.
• Rigmor: I think King Sigmayne will end up being shortened by an Imperial Headsman.
• Wulf: It depends on what we uncover. I doubt his arse will remain on the throne.
• Sarah: Can I castrate him?
• Wulf: I shall take you to visit him, but no castration.
• Rigmor: The look on his face when we introduce you must suffice for now.
• Wulf: Who said you can come? We are supposed to be nobles of high rank.
• Rigmor: Get f…. f…. fornicated!
• Wulf: Nahfahlaar would have crapped on the palace roof by now, so Sigmayne should know our visit would not be pleasant.
• Erandur: Please let me be there if you plan to tear strips off the Arch-Bishop.
• Sarah: There are no other bishops in Evermore, so his title makes little sense.
• Wulf: No bishops exist in any province whose official religion is The Nine.

A sentry blew a horn, which caused Arnima’s guards to run around like headless chickens. There was no sign of officers, and the knights were absent.

• Vayu: This lot could not organise a brawl in a bar.
• Sarah: Or a root in a brothel.
• Rigmor: Sometimes it is difficult to remember you were a princess.
• Sarah: While living in Jehanna, I was a guest of the Ice-Blade Clan. That is why I have these facial tattoos. To say they are Nords is an understatement. Therefore, if I seem rough around the edges, you know what influenced me after age nine.
• Wulf: Dirty, smelly Nords.
• Sarah: Yep.
• Wulf: You poor thing. At what age did you see soap again?
• Vayu: Rigmor is quite proficient with that dai-katana you gifted her.
• Wulf: The Countess knows we are jesting.
• Rigmor: Do I?
• Wulf: Due to Colovian influences, the Nords of Bruma understand the theory and use of soap.
• Rigmor: You are not making it better for yourself.

Priest Matthew came running and heaved on the exit door. Vayu walked over and opened it for him. Not once did he dare look me in the eyes.

I sighed and said, “This will not be pleasant, but it seems we will have some time before ol’ Morty makes an appearance.”

As we exited, we heard Legion sergeants and corporals barking orders and organising their men. This was a stark contrast to the chaos of Arnima’s guards.

Merosa was berating Priest Matthew. Sir Horustair stood at ease. I could only see half a dozen soldiers and a single catapult.

• Merosa: It is time, priest. Your Little Lord has been conspiring with his dark mistress. I doubt you were ignorant of this betrayal of Mother Mara. I have the legal orders from King Sigmayne here. Are you a traitor to your King as well as your gods?
• Wulf: Priest Matthew, move away. Governor Merosa, you have disobeyed a Royal Decree and are therefore under arrest for treason.
• Merosa: Why should I listen to a liar like you who pretends to be an Envoy of our beloved Emperor?

I stepped in front of Merosa as Matthew stepped back.

I snarled, “Let us see what Sir Horustair says, shall we?”

I handed my Notice of Appointment to Horustair.

I asked, “Ser Horustair, do those papers carry the seal of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Titus Mede II?”

Horustair studied the seal and replied, “They do.”

“Break the seal and read them. Not out loud.”

Horustair did as instructed, then said, “They are in order, Your Excellency.”

He returned the Notice of Appointment.

I then handed him the decree signed and sealed by Merosa.

I explained, “Ser Horustair, I handed you a Royal Decree signed and sealed by Governor Merosa. Four Divine Knights of The Order of the Dragon, and I witnessed it. What did the Governor swear to do?”

Horustair read it and said, “On the 11th of this month, Governor Merosa swore to cease all legal and military action against Lord Mortifayne. Her signature and seal and those of five noble witnesses, including Envoy Wulf, make this a binding Royal Decree.”

“Would you regard her being here today as a breach of that decree?”

“Without a doubt, and I am ashamed to be involved with such treachery.”

“You have done nothing illegal. However, I advise you not to interfere with my duties.”

“Your authority is that of our Emperor. I am at your command.”

I turned back to Merosa.

• Wulf: You stand there with arms crossed and the arrogance that is often directed at those you regard as peasants. The reality is I outrank you and King Sigmayne. Even if I did not, you have placed the people of Arnima in danger, and I will ensure you pay for your crime.
• Merosa: This is nonsense. I have papers signed by King Sigmayne. He is the one pursuing legal and military action, not I.
• Wulf: You went to King Sigmayne demanding that he act against Lord Mortifayne. That is the action that makes you a traitor to The Empire. That is why you are under arrest.
• Merosa: You were willing to let Mortifayne continue his cruelty, and I was not!
• Wulf: You and King Sigmayne have done nothing to curb Mortifayne’s cruelty for over twenty years. Only when it affected trade did you decide to act. I put it to you and all here that you do not care the slightest about the innocents of Arnima. The only things you worship are wealth and status.
• Merosa: That is slander! I demand redress!
• Wulf: You will have it in Cyrodiil and within an Imperial Court of Law. I reiterate you are under arrest. Do not move from where you are, or I will shackle you.
• Horustair: I advise you to keep quiet, Governor Merosa, or I will do the shackling and add a gag to prevent further lies from escaping your lips.
• Wulf: Priest Matthew, where is Lord Mortifayne?
• Matthew: Your Excellency, according to Knight Sek, Lord Mortifayne is attending to a last-minute detail within the manor. He will be with us shortly.
• Wulf: Priest Matthew and Priest Circle. Governor Merosa and King Sigmayne. These people ensured I could not complete the task assigned to me by your Emperor and Lady Mara. When the death and destruction that follows is tallied, put their names in the debtor’s column!
• Horustair: What death and destruction?
• Wulf: I have been trying to prevent the opening of an Oblivion Gate. Namira is about to invade Arnima, an anagram of her name. Priest Matthew and Governor Merosa knew what I was trying to achieve, but both put their interests first. Now, all we can hope for is to minimise the losses and for me to enter Namira’s realm and close the Oblivion Gate.
• Merosa: More of that nonsense! Where is the proof?
• Wulf: Did King Sigmayne think it was nonsense when the Arch-Bishop confronted him with what I uncovered, and Priest Matthew claimed to be his discovery? Minutes ago, you accused Priest Matthew of conspiring with the same dark mistress as Lord Mortifayne. Therefore, you do not think it is nonsense. Quickly disproved untruths will not help you at trial.

Tension increased when Mortifayne walked through the Arnima gates.

• Mortifayne: The Hag rears her head at last! So, you finally had your way with the King?! Why do you persist in harassing me, vulture?
• Merosa: Sir Horustair here will see to your death if you try anything brash, Little Lord. You have stained the Kingdom of Evermore with your ill acts. Your capturing of trade goods and intimidating merchants have ruined your town and The Reach. Your rights as a royal are now forfeit.
• Wulf: And there is the confession. All Governor Merosa cares about is the disruption to trade. Lord Mortifayne could have continued torturing and slaughtering his citizens till the end of time, but he cost The Hag a few coins. Therefore, action must be taken!
• Merosa: I…I…
• Wulf: I will shut up when a superior is talking. Is that what you were about to say?
• Rigmor: Governor Merosa, remain silent.
• Wulf: One other being called Lord Mortifayne ‘Little Lord.’ It was a minion of Lady Namira. Now I wonder where Governor Merosa has heard it before.

As I prepared to speak to Mortifayne, Merosa demanded, “Sir Horustair, obey your King’s orders and arrest Lord Mortifayne, or I will see you stripped of your title!”

He replied, “The Divine Knights would have every legal right to cut me down if I tried to arrest Lord Mortifayne. You have ignored my warning about the gag. It was not an idle threat, traitor.”

I stood before Mortifayne, and his eyes were clear. He was not under the influence of Nightshade, and no insanity clouded his thoughts. He was in control of his actions for the first time in years.

• Mortifayne: You show your true face at last. You are here to save Arnima, but it is too late. My mistress told me who you are. The city belongs to her!
• Wulf: Lady Namira does not know who I am. Yes, she may know me as a Son of Akatosh, but that is far from the entirety of my being.
• Merosa: So now he claims to be the son of a god. What other lies will this charlatan spew forth from his peasant’s mouth?
• Erandur: I am Divine Knight Erandur and a Priest of Mara. Lord Akatosh is the Celestial Father of all Dragons. Therefore, Sir Wulf Welkynd, the Dragonborn, is his Celestial Son. Even before the promotion to Envoy by His Imperial Majesty, his Excellency’s noble rank far outweighed yours, Governor Merosa. He is Thane of every hold in Skyrim. He is Knight Commander of The Order of the Dragon. His wealth surpasses that of any noble in this entire kingdom. None but the ignorant, such as yourself, question his reputation and honesty. Some gods love him. Others fear him. He terrifies the guilty, such as yourself.
• Rigmor: His Excellency defeated Ulfric Stormcloak and Alduin, The World Eater. He has entered Oblivion several times and defied gods to save you all from death or enslavement. I ask, what has Governor Merosa done for the betterment of anybody but herself?
• Sarah: His Excellency is Champion of The Divines, Hero of Solitude and Champion of Cyrodiil. He deserves respect but does not demand it. Governor Merosa deserves contempt and the headsman’s axe. 
• Horustair: Do I have your permission to gag her, Your Excellency?
• Wulf: There is no need. Divine Knights, I desire to speak to Lord Mortifayne without interference from the traitor. If Governor Merosa speaks out of turn once more, kill her.

Bows and staff were aimed at Merosa. 

• Wulf: Lord Mortifayne, what happened to Belize, your beloved wife?
• Mortifayne: I have done what was demanded to gain Namira’s favour for my people. They will live if I obey. I was wrong to oppose her, and my wife died for that mistake. I must protect my people, and my mistress has shown her power. Lady Mara has not.
• Wulf: Did Namira promise this? Daedric Princes are bound to obey a verbal contract. But it has not been her talking to you. You have received instructions from her intermediary via your amulet, and he can lie as much as he wants. I wore your amulet, and he spoke to me. I know who he is. Do you?
• Mortifayne: He said he is the Last King of the Ayleid. He is Dynar!

As expected, the name Dynar caused gasps of terror amongst the Evermorin.

• Wulf: That is what that wretched creature believes, but the soul of King Laloriaran Dynar is not in Oblivion or controlled by a Daedric Prince. The hero of Nirn, King Laloriaran Dynar, is safe amongst the stars. He abandoned his mistress, Meridia, and was welcomed in Aetherius. The history taught by the fake priests of Evermore is a fabrication designed to control the civilians and create a false caste system. Those lies and false histories led to the slaughter at Munstor. They have allowed Lady Namira to execute her plans.
• Erandur: Anybody who travels outside of Evermore soon realises the histories and warped worship taught here are contrary to the rest of Nirn. This time and place are unsuitable for arguing this point, but I am happy to help educate the deceived after we save Arnima’s people.
• Wulf: Lord Mortifayne, Divine Knight Erandur, was formerly known as Brother Erandur. He was a Priest of Vaermina but is now a Priest of Mara and one of the few that Lady Mara speaks to directly. To escape Lady Namira’s influence, you must deny her and remove that amulet you wear.
• Mortifayne: It is too late. I have set it in motion!
• Wulf: The Shrine of Mara that you keep and pray to is proof of your good soul. You tried to resist the manipulations of a Dark Lord. Alas, Namira, like many of her kind, knows how to force the unwilling. She tricked you by having Maarin kill Belize and then convinced you he was untouchable. You had the murderer of your wife in your home but could not get revenge. Maarin prepared brews that stopped logical thinking and made you tired. Your good soul was no match for such manipulations. You descended into madness, but still, your conscience screamed. It is too late, but the blame cannot be placed purely on yourself, Lord Mortifayne. The death and destruction that will now occur result from this kingdom’s corrupt nobility and priests. And I am at fault as I made the mistake of trusting both.
• Mortifayne: Maybe if I go back, she will listen. But this whore should at least be sent to her domain!

Mortifayne held his amulet and started an incantation.

I turned and said, “Governor Merosa, your soul will reside in Aetherius despite your treachery. I now sentence you to death for your traitorous deeds.”

I decapitated Merosa just before Mortifayne’s spell hit her.

As Horustair and others stared at Merosa’s body, I explained, “Lord Mortifayne was trying to kill and soul-trap Governor Merosa. If I had not killed her, Lady Namira would have claimed her soul. She was a traitor but did not deserve to be deprived of her chosen afterlife and tortured by a Dark Lord.”

Erandur said, “Your Excellency, Lord Mortifayne had vanished. He must have had a recall spell prepared.”

I used my Thu’um, “SOLDIERS OF THE IMPERIAL ARMY, EVERMORE AND ARNIMA, DEFEND THE CITY FROM THE INVADERS. THEY BLEED AND DIE LIKE ANY OTHER ENEMY. DIVINE KNIGHTS, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO.”

There is no doubt my command was heard throughout Arnima.

I told Horustair, “I will be on the steps leading to Mortifayne’s residence. Join me there.”

I then teleported close to Father’s shrine and summoned my squad.

I drew my sword and approached one of the knights.

“Which one are you?”

“Sek. My brother entered the manor some time ago. I doubt he will be leaving it.”

“You know the story, Sek. You and your brother are guilty of innumerable crimes. It is time for justice to be served on behalf of the innocents tortured, raped, and killed.”

“Come then. I am tired of all this talk.”

Faster than Sek could raise his hammer, I stepped forward and decapitated him. His armour kept his head in place till his corpse crashed to the ground.

I asked the guard, “Do you desire death as well?”

“No. I want to defend my city.”

I turned to see Sir Horustair had arrived.

Rigmor approached and asked, “What now?”

“We wait for the Oblivion Gate to open. I can feel the build-up of Magicka.”

Sir Horustair said, “Most of the Evermore troops refused to defend Arnima.”

I replied, “Then they are guilty of disobeying my order. They shall be dealt with later.”

A hush fell over Arnima. We waited in silence for Namira to make her move.

Everybody gasped as a red, ghostly replica of the Adamantine Tower appeared on the horizon.

Minions started appearing across the city.

I used my Thu’um once more, “DIVINE KNIGHTS, TAKE DOWN THE GORGONS, THEY ARE TELEPORTING THE LESSER DAEDRA.”

I helped take down three Gorgons as I made my way to the Oblivion Gate.

I used Mara’s Rings and said, “Rigmor, my beloved. I am about to enter the portal.”

“The lesser Daedra are being swarmed and defeated, but those long-armed ones are taking their toll. Poor Celestine got knocked into the river!”

“I have no idea how long I will be gone. I doubt the attack will end until the gate is closed.”

“I saw Matthew, Rados, and Jackos enter while you tackled the Gorgons.”

“Rados has some chance of surviving with the dweomer on his armour. The other two just committed suicide.”

“Matthew would have been more help inside the temple as you asked him to do.”

“Perhaps he still thinks he has a chance at redemption by dying horribly in Scuttling Void?”

“Go, my Dragonborn. Civilians are being killed. Some are armed with wood axes and carving knives and fight for their home.”

“Who is that naked person?”

“A local mage of some skill but little sanity.”

When I leapt through the portal, my connection to Rigmor was severed, and that is always like somebody ripping my soul in two.

I was in a pocket plane of Scuttling Void.

I did not bother trying to decipher the bone sculptures and other decorations. I touched my amulet, and the dweomer Father placed on it told me time flowed at the same rate and direction as on Mundus. That was a relief.

Logically, the tower containing the anchor will be in the centre of the pocket plane. If I maintain a straight line from the portal, I will find it.

I had no doubt there would be a tower. Whether it resembled the Direnni Tower was not significant. It will be where The False King awaits me.

Undead Afflicted were numerous and posed no danger to me.

More than an hour later, I heard cursing and the sounds of a sword striking rotten flesh.

I ran towards the commotion and saw that Jackos was in danger of being defeated by a single Undead Afflicted.

I ran over and dispensed with his adversary.

Jackos ran ahead until I caught up and tapped him on the shoulder.

He exclaimed, “I heard The Voice and knew it had to be you. I will take point as it is more important you survive than me!”

“Have you travelled far?”

“No, not at all.”

“I have run miles from the Oblivion Gate. You and others have been spread randomly around this pocket plane.”

“By the gods, I am terrified! But we must follow what the priests taught us. I wish I remembered everything about dealing with situations like this. We must find the others, and then we must find that stone.”

“Anybody would think The Oblivion Crises was ancient history! It is common knowledge how they closed Oblivion Gates during the Oblivion Crises. Well, common knowledge everywhere but Evermore.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Several times. One time, Lord Malacath had an Oblivion Gate ready for him to step through. Most Oblivion Gates require a Sigil Stone placed in what mages call the Sigillum Sanguis. That is a fancy word for a cradle that allows the Sigil Stone to float freely. The Sigil Stone is placed as high as possible in a tower. The taller the tower, the further the Sigil Stone can be placed from the Oblivion Gate. Thereby making it harder to reach for any prospective hero.”

“And do you just take the Sigil Stone to close the gate?”

“If you can reach it, yes. Malacath’s was difficult to reach, so I smashed it with my sword. BOOM! But a Sigil Stone is not always the anchor to the Oblivion pocket plane. For instance, I have encountered Soul Gems and Daedra used as anchors.”

“So, what now?”

“Logically, we keep as straight a line as possible from the gate, which must lead to the tower. At some point, you run back and return to Arnima.”

“Why?”

“The person who takes the anchor or destroys it is almost certain to be returned to Nirn. Any other mortal in the Oblivion plane, in this case Scuttling Void, may get stuck there. Now, let us hurry. The longer we take to get the Sigil Stone or whatever anchor is being used, the more people die in Arnima.”

“Okay, follow me.”

“No, Jackos, you follow me. The Undead Afflicted was probably the weakest of the minions we will face here, and you had trouble with one of them. I have been encountering them in groups of six or more. I can kill them quickly, and you cannot. I also know what direction we should be heading, and you do not.”

Jackos would keep forgetting my advice and run ahead. I would save his arse from an attacker, and he would follow again for some time.

A medium-sized Crawler almost ripped his head off before I intervened.

I turned to him and growled, “Stay behind! You stand no chance against some of these Daedra!”

While crossing the remains of a bridge, I spotted one of the long-armed Daedra in the distance. A Gorgon was also following us.

Unrelenting Force eliminated the long-armed Daedra and let Rados know where we were. He came trotting to us.

• Rados: Jackos, Your Excellency, what dung pit is this?
• Wulf: This is a pocket plane of Scuttling Void, Lady Namira’s domain in Oblivion.
• Rados: I never asked to be part of this!
• Wulf: You entered an Oblivion Gate. Where did you think it would lead?
• Rados: They did not cover Oblivion in my few days of militia training.
• Jackos: We cannot talk now, lest we provoke the ire of that beast above. We keep moving until we find Priest Matthew.
• Wulf: No, we keep moving till it is time for you to return and me to close the Oblivion Gate. If we find Priest Matthew, he can join us, but we will not waste time looking for him!
• Rados: That is a bit cold!
• Wulf: If it were His Imperial Majesty lost in Scuttling Void, I would not spend time searching for him either! The people in Arnima are fighting for their lives against incredible odds. My friends are risking their lives defending the people of Arnima. Look for the fake priest if you want, but my priority is closing the Oblivion Gate.
• Rados: What about the flying beast?
• Wulf: The Gorgon can teleport Daedra to us and direct other Daedra our way. Think of it as a scout. My instruction to the Divine Knights when leaving Arnima was to eliminate the Gorgons. The same applies here. I must eliminate it before we proceed.
• Jackos: You only took seconds to kill the one that came out of that hole.
• Wulf: Killing Daedra in Oblivion is not so easy. It will regenerate its health, and it may take some time to eliminate it. I suggest that you both remain here while I deal with it.

I used my Thu’um.

“STOP SPYING ON US! YOU ARE JUST A PATHETIC IMITATION OF A DRAGON!”

Rados cried out, “Are you mad! Now it is attacking!”

I replied, “DUH! That was the idea.”

I hit the Gorgon with two full-force Unrelenting Shouts.

It landed, and my Thu’um hit it again. Its regeneration rate was high, and it took flight once more.

The Gorgon teleported lesser Daedra to our location. Rados and Jackos struggled to deal with them.

I pursued the Gorgon for miles while continually hitting it with Unrelenting Force.

It eventually landed amongst a nest of large Crawlers. I had to kill those Daedra before finishing the Gorgon.

The Gorgon was defeated an hour after starting the fight, and we continued toward the tower. We could not yet see it, but I knew it was there.

I was eliminating ninety per cent of the enemies with my Thu’um. When we did fight melees, I killed four or five Daedra to their one.

I asked, “Rados, what happened to your Grandfather’s sword? It is so much better than that piece of crap you are carrying!”

“I thought this one was bigger, so it must be better.”

“You are trying to kill Daedra, not please a woman.”

We continued with my two anchors slowing us down.

Unfortunately, we found Matthew alive.

• Matthew: Divines’ graces! You made it! Now, I need to get a hold of myself. I must recall how to deal with our situation. Blasted, the drill for this was so long ago. Martin’s sacrifice made us too comfortable and unprepared.
• Wulf: You would have been more use in the temple where I suggested you remain. Some still think you are a priest and would find comfort in your presence. Instead, you are here and about as useful as knickers to a whore.
• Matthew: Oh…
• Wulf: How they closed Oblivion Gates during the Oblivion Crises is common knowledge. Every child attending school knows of Sigil Stones and the heroes who risked all to gather them. You are dumber than the average eight-year-old!
• Matthew: Ah…
• Wulf: Daedric Princes are continually trying to bypass The Liminal Barrier. There have been many attempts since Martin’s sacrifice, and I have personally closed five of them. As Champion of the Divines, I have no doubt I will deal with many more.
• Matthew: Um…
• Wulf: Not all Oblivion Gates use Sigil Stones as anchors. I will not know this pocket plane’s anchor until close to it.
• Jackos: Brother Matthew, before you ask, Wulf has decided we will not waste time searching for others.
• Matthew: Yes, delay only brings a higher chance of failure and worse.
• Wulf: There is nothing worse than failing the innocent of Arnima!
• Matthew: Oh…of course…
• Wulf: You and Jackos should head back to the portal. You are more useful in Arnima than here.
• Jackos: I want to aid you.
• Wulf: You will slow me down. I cannot leave people to die, so I will be forced to rescue you and Matthew from the weakest of Daedra. The stronger ones would tear you apart in seconds, as they are doing to the people of Arnima. So, head in a straight line the other way, and you will reach the Oblivion Gate. We have killed nearly all the Daedra between here and there.
• Matthew: I refuse.
• Wulf: Of course you do. Why listen to somebody who knows what he is talking about and has faced gods as close as you are now? Do you know what happens when the anchor is destroyed or moved?
• Matthew: The person who removed it is returned to Nirn.
• Wulf: The person who removed or destroyed it is returned to Nirn. Any other mortal is trapped in Oblivion. I am going to rush toward the tower and anchor. I will not stop and worry about who may still be in Scuttling Void before closing the Oblivion Gate.
• Jackos: Then let us aid you to a certain point. We will then head for the Oblivion Gate.
• Rados: What about me?
• Wulf: You can survive due to the armour you wear and its dweomer. There is always a chance I will be stopped, which means it will be up to you. You wear the armour of Lady Mara’s champion, so I expect you to act like him.
• Rados: What about me when you remove or destroy the anchor?
• Wulf: I will allow you to do that. I have other ways of escaping Oblivion. That is enough talking. I am not going to dawdle. Keep up if you can, or do the wise thing and head for the portal. Oh, and enjoy the nearby gut garden as we pass it. Some lost souls put a lot of effort into its creation.

I rushed ahead and killed all opposition with The Voice.

I came to a locked doorway with a bust of Reman Cyrodiil above it.

The other three arrived minutes later.

I watched, amused, as Jackos tried to open the door.

• Jackos: Damn. It seems to be locked. There must be another way around these walls.
• Wulf: Locked, you say? So that is why it would not open. Who would have thought?
• Rados: That was sarcasm, I think. I get confused with sarcasm.
• Wulf: I must talk to Lady Namira about her decorations. Putting a bust of Reman Cyrodiil above this door displays terrible judgment.
• Matthew: So how do we get through it?
• Wulf: We passed a cave at the bottom of the hill.
• Jackos: I did not see a cave.
• Matthew: Neither did I.
• Wulf: That is why I survive places like this, where people like you two become victims.
• Rados: Let us head for the cave.
• Wulf: No. A locked door suggests something is hidden. I want to find what that is and eliminate any enemies without worrying about saving the life of anybody with me. So, I will see if the cave leads to where I need to go, and if so, I will clear the enemies and then open this door for Rados.
• Jakos: My choice, Your Excellency, is to accompany you. Do not try and stop me from doing my part!
• Wulf: Do as you wish, Jakos, but I will not slow down for you. I encountered Daedra I could not defeat by myself in two places while investigating Mortifayne. There is no reason to believe I will not encounter equally deadly Daedra in Lady Namira’s domain. If I do, I will run away, and you will be left to die.
• Rados: His Excellency defeated Alduin, so if there is something just as powerful here…
• Jakos: Okay, I get the idea. But I do not want to leave till I realise my assistance contributes nothing but endangers myself and Priest Matthew.
• Wulf: That has been the case since we found Matthew. I do not know how long I will be. Stay or go. I do not care.

I ran to the cave and entered.

Something akin to a Will O’ Wisp hovered near the entrance. It did not follow me or show any interest at all.

I used Night Vision. The ground was covered with weird red soil and was quite spongy.

A narrow wooden walkway stretched across a pond of blood.

In the distance, the unmistakable clanking of Dwemer gears and the hiss of steam valves echoed.

The walkway led to a steep spiral path made of Oblivion Roots.

At the top of the path were Dwemer pumps and a room with a caged Crawler.

In an adjoining room, I could see a floating Ayleid Wraith. I encountered a similar type of undead in the Ayleid ruins of Rielle.  

A dweomer I often use showed several notes on a table in a locked room.

I picked the lock and entered.

There were four notes on the table and one in a small lockbox. They were written in Ayleidoon and numbered. I decided to read them in their numerical order.

“Memory #501

The malice and sadism of the Mer have no equal. Across this land, cruel lords host galleries to display our shame.

Gut Gardens, one of ours, coined the term.

The hand that governs this realm pays tribute to her, the dreadful maiden. He uses us to show his appreciation.

He makes shapes out of Man that are unfathomable. Arms are replacing legs, and heads are in the buttocks. I once saw his artists tear apart three women to create the gory spider that terrorised the quarry.

Whispers from the north talk of rebellion. By Kyne, will it be that we see peace from this evil?”

This memory was of a person enslaved by the Ayleids. His owner worshipped Lady Namira, and he had heard of Mother’s rebellion.

“Memory #23345

The eyes look down from above and cast me into an eternal horror.

I cannot see the sun.”

I assume somebody was cast into Oblivion.

“Memory #82230

I came across the most sordid sight. A village all on stakes.

The pikes thrust from their rears and out their mouths, shattered teeth. Some are still breathing through this atrocity.

A young boy impaled right beneath his father. He was choking upon the excrement of his precursor.

Why would the gods allow this?”

Why would King Sigmayne allow it? That sounds like what Lord Mortifayne did to Geffir Halon and his family. Spiking has been a tool used by many in war and in worship.

“Memory #722231

A beautiful lass approached us. She blessed all with a kiss except me.

She said I was a ghastly sight, without matter or fame.

She cast me into the realm of spite to live as a pariah.

I saw my old company flourish under her wings. I was within the bracken, watching.

I sought a new maiden.

Our hatred of the loving mother was mutual.”

Somebody blamed Lady Mara for his ill luck with women and sought Namira for assistance. Logic dictates that this memory belongs to Husk, the thief.

“Memory #32451322

My fate is amongst the wretched. The vessel keeps me shackled to destiny.

My face, ugly and untrustworthy, destroys my ambitions and hopes.

There is no solace here. Mother, hear me.”

This memory is likely another of Husk’s. He pleaded with Lady Mara for help, but I doubt she could do anything to aid him.

These memories were not handwritten but printed by Dwemer machinery. They had machines that could store memories in cubic lexicons.

Like the diary entries left behind by Husk, I believe these notes to be clues. Husk wants me to understand what happened and the motivations of those involved. I already know he had difficulty with being accepted within society. He would not be the first mortal to turn to a Daedric Prince for aid when a Divine provided none.

I approached the Ayleid Wraith. It attacked with Destruction Magic but did little harm.

The wraith retreated and was joined by three Undead Afflicted.

Unrelenting Force disposed of all the enemies.

I would not install the central art piece in Aurane. Its eye was disturbing, rotating and spinning and seeming to focus on random things.

The room protected by the Ayleid Wraith and Undead Afflicted contained a trough of blood teleported from elsewhere.

There was a walkway up one floor that surrounded the room.

The purpose of the trough was unknown.

I killed another Undead Afflicted as I investigated further.

I returned to the cage containing the large Crawler. It was dead, and a taxidermist spent considerable time stuffing it. What the four bodies in the cage with it signified is unknown.

Next to the caged Crawler was a door protected by Oblivion Vines. I knew that door would lead to where Rados waited, but I was not ready for a reunion.

Another exit to the room led to an area where corpses were being prepared for consumption and Flesh Sculptures.

I quickly disposed of the Ayleid Wrath that protected the horde of the dead.

An exit to that room led to a spiral stairway.

I looked around some more and was satisfied I had removed all enemy creatures.

Then, I returned to the interwoven Oblivion Vines and cut them down.

When I unlocked the door and exited, a grumpy-looking Jakos greeted me.

He said, “You took your time. Now follow me!”

“No, Jakos, you have no idea where to go. I took my time as I eliminated many enemies, collected clues, and inspected the myriad machines I discovered. Rados, follow me. You other two can do as you please. You are not important to my plans.”

I rushed through the complex with Rados close behind. The other two did the wise thing and headed for the portal.

We eventually made our way outside.

After killing Crawlers, Rados and I climbed some steps.

We were in yet another Gut Garden.

In the distance was the tower. A large globe floated above it.

Rados asked, “Is that sphere the Sigil Stone?”

“No, it is not a Sigil Stone. It is not within a Sigillum Sanguis, a cradle. We will find the anchor at the top of the tower. It may not be a Sigil Stone.”

“One of those Gorgon things is flying around the tower’s summit.”

“It will be watching what happens and reporting to Lady Namira.”

“Oh…”

We had to cross a bridge over a river of blood.

I warned Rados, “That is an eye watching us at the end of the bridge. The Witchmen had similar constructs in their compounds.”

“I expected many horrible beasts trying to stop us from reaching the tower.”

“They can teleport, so do not speak too soon. We need some Dremora to help us.”

“You are going to summon Dremora to fight Daedra?”

“They will be loyal to me due to my strength in Magicka. They do not have allegiance to any Daedric Prince, cannot die and relish a good fight.”

I summoned four Dremora Lords. I then made my way to the front of them.

We were halfway across the bridge when two large Crawlers and a long-armed Daedra teleported behind us.

We engaged the enemy, but it soon became clear they were invulnerable.

I yelled, “Rados, we cannot defeat them. Make a break for it and run towards the tower. The Dremora will keep them busy.”

The sky darkened. Rain and lightning added to the atmosphere of gloom.

The Dremora would not last long, so when I saw Oblivion Vines blocking our progress, I did not hesitate to use Inferno to move them aside.

I yelled, “Keep up with me, Rados. The entrance is up some stairs.”

I reached the door and looked behind. Rados and his ridiculous sword had kept up.

The door was not locked, and we entered the tower.

The sound of rain and thunder was replaced by a waterfall of blood splashing into a pool of blood below.

I summoned four Dremora.

Rados asked, “Are they the same ones?”

“If any survived the fight, then yes. The spell randomly selects any new ones.”

“And they do not mind this?”

“As I said, they enjoy a good fight. Can you turn your armour down a bit?”

I shouted Dragon Aspect.

Rados remarked, “Wow, your armour looks much better than mine.”

“And it does not blind people from a mile away.”

We proceeded up the spiral stairway. Impenetrable Oblivion Vines blocked progress to each higher floor. They would disappear once I killed the tenants in a nearby room.

The first few rooms contained headless Necromancers.

Their heads appeared when I decapitated them.

Rados asked, “I was confused when you swung your sword to chop off non-existent heads. And then there were heads, and my confusion got confused.”

“Gobblygook.”

“Yes, gobblygook. Silly Rados, you forgot gobblygook.”

We had to dispose of a few Undead Afflicted as we proceeded towards the summit.

We entered a large cavern dominated by Dwemer pipes and machinery.

A Dunmer wearing a replica of Vivec’s Mask stood before a giant bone sculpture.

I told Rados, “That is a living person. I have no idea why he is wearing a replica of Vivec’s mask and nothing else but his underwear.”

“I know. It is gobblygook!”

“Well, we can’t progress without eliminating him.”

When I approached, the Dunmer prepared to cast Lightning.

I Blinked behind him, then shoved my sword from back to belly.

I inspected the bone sculpture and said, “I have no idea what this was all about. I assume it is some reference to The Tribunal.”

Rados replied, “Then let us pretend it does not exist and continue.”

“That is a good idea, Master Blacksmith Baccos.”

Headless Mythic Dawn cultists occupied the next room.

They also had heads when I cut their non-existent heads off.

I told Rados, “That is a replica of Lord Akatosh’s avatar in The Imperial City. The avatar turned to stone after Lord Akatosh defeated Mehrunes Dagon to end the Oblivion Crises.”

“It seems to me that somebody is teaching you some sort of history lesson.”

“That is very observant of you, Rados, for that is also what I think is happening.”

“Why would somebody do this?”

“ALBATROSS!”

“Pardon?”

“When I can’t explain something by declaring it gobblygook, Albatross is my only answer.”

“If I do this for much longer, will I end up like you?”

“Wealthy with gods as teachers, castles and other large estates and the blood and soul of a dragon. No, I do not think so.”

“I meant my sanity.”

“Do not believe madness to be a curse, mortal. For some, it is the greatest of blessings. A bitter mercy perhaps, but mercy nonetheless.”

“Ahh…what was that?”

“Some advice that Lord Sheogorath once gave The Hero of Kvatch.”

“The God of Madness?”

“He is one of my favourites. He threatened to turn my intestines into skipping rope, but apart from that, very charming.”

“Can we proceed to the next unneeded history lesson? Please!”

In the next room was a Lich and a model of Alduin. I quickly disposed of the Lich.

A dead Stormcloak hung from a rafter.

Part of Alduin’s wall was under the Alduin model.

Solitude’s Windmill and surrounding farms were also modelled.

I said, “That is Alduin, part of Alduin’s wall and a Solitude Windmill model. The hanging person is a Stormcloak, one of Ulfric’s army. The thing I cut down is a Lich, and I have no idea what he represented. Let us go.”

Rados laughed, which was good considering we were in Oblivion, which is not a friendly place.

Dwemer pumps sourced the cascading blood from a giant heart. I just shook my head and continued. Rados did not bother to ask a question.

The last room we entered had a portal.

“That portal will take us to the roof. I expect The False King, who thinks he is The Last King, will be waiting for us.”

“Will he be powerful?”

“I have no idea. We will soon find out. Ready?”

“No, but let’s go meet him anyway.”

“Sheath your sword.”

“What?”

“Powerful enemies always boast and tell me how I am going to die and how they have won and other such bullshit. I like to get them angry as they make mistakes and tell me more than they intended. If we appear with weapons in hand, he might attack.”

“I left my sheath back in Arnima. I will have to look non-threatening.”

“He will probably laugh at that stupid weapon. Still, keep a few sword lengths away with its tip pointing to the ground.”

“I like this sword!”

“Can you do what I asked? We can argue the aesthetics and practicality of that idiotic sword later.”

“Yes, I can look unthreatening. If I piss myself with fear, will that convince The False King?”

“He would probably attack out of pity.”

We stepped through the portal, and I was disappointed with The False King’s appearance.

I expected an Ayleid-looking being with a crown. Instead, he was a dull, smoky, transparent nothing with glowing eyes and mouth.

The Gorgon was getting dizzy, flying in circles. No doubt he was spying for Lady Namira.

The globe we saw from below was now much smaller and hovered overhead.

I said to it, “Is that you scrying, Husk? If I need to know something, meet me in the flesh. Your notes and other clues are insufficient for deciphering your message.”

Beside The False King, an impenetrable dome barrier enclosed the Sigillum Sanguis and floating Sigil Stone.

Through the distortion of the dome, I could see an emancipated figure kneeling before a Shrine of Namira. My guess is they are the remains of Mortifayne begging Namira to stop. If so, she was not polite with her answer.

The False King tried speaking in my mind. I laughed and said, “I am not wearing the amulet, so I cannot let you in. You will have to speak aloud, as you do not have the power to penetrate my mindblocks.”

If decay could sound like something, it would sound like The False King’s voice.

“So, the married messengers assail us, nor despair or decay could halt the march of destiny. Will the story of your flesh end in tragedy or triumph?”

“Rados, we are married! I cannot even remember you proposing. Or did I propose? I wonder if it was a white wedding with bridesmaids and all that?”

The False King hissed.

I told him, “You believe yourself to be King Laloriaran Dynar reborn but are not. As for destiny, it does not march as it does not exist. Every tiny movement of an eye or twitch of a hand creates infinite possible futures. There is no predetermined path for mortal or god. However, there is a preferred timeline, and I must help maintain it for my gods and the mortals I serve.”

“The corporeal was The King who reigned over flesh and mud all the same. In those mortal years, my aid was sought after from Mer in the West. Brothers of the same flesh, same wants – we congealed for the race. Superficial, yet penetrating so deeply.”

“The Direnni also sought aid from the Nords of Skyrim and the Breton and Reachmen from within their Hegemon. Man and Manmer fought beside Mer at The Battle of Glenumbra Moors. They wanted to protect their home and loved ones from the xenophobic Empire of The Alessian Order. They wanted religious freedom. If the history placed in your head were not fiction, you would know these things.”

“Mortals are locked behind their eyes, forever beholden by the spectacle provided. Carnality flows down from those organs – libido, hunger, and dominance. I hope the patchwork below has given insight. There is much art etched into the very edifice of this red land. Convention betrayed and the desecrated woman before the virtuous man, the civilised devoured by the subaltern. Want eating want – a tale you have come to know, cattle as you are. Here lays all that is aberrant, all of nature’s most hated.”

“Mortals are not enslaved to our senses! The eyes do not dictate emotion and morality! Pleasant odours can make a blind person hungry. Touch and voice can make a blind person desire their partner. Dominance can be sought by a blind despot whose followers will strike out at those that the blind despot cannot see. The blind despot’s minions will recover what the blind despot covets but cannot see. A language can be established by touch for those who are deaf. A well-fed person will only hunger if the offered food is of a type and consistency and smell that pleases them. A starving person will gladly eat anything they can put in their mouth, no matter how vile or distasteful. Libido is not a product of sight but a complex state influenced by many factors. Dominance is not a desire generated by any of our senses. You speak with no concept of what constitutes a mortal because your mistress created your fake persona and is like all her kind. They did not make us. They do not understand us.”

“Pragmatic flesh-cattle, listening for a reason – let the soul gain your ears. Let your guts listen and let them churn from these primordial truths. The misery you have witnessed, carved through your temporal home, is mirrored here. Both worlds drown in the tears of wanting mortals. You flesh-cattle were wading this red mire well before this hallowed hour.”

“Where is the laughter of the children or the words of lovers? Where is the love of family and friends? Where is the beauty of the aurora and stars on a cloudless night? I fail to see the majesty of a storm rolling over the horizon in this realm! I cannot hear the beauty of bird calls, music or the songs that pleasure us all. This place mirrors a tiny part of the mortal experience. Even the most downtrodden can find joy and beauty in our world. Where is that displayed here? This place is no mirror image but a poorly produced copy where the artist failed miserably to capture the essence of the original. My Gods, The Divines and other et-Ada create, and they are the artists. Your mistress and her kind alter what exists or cobble together inferior replicas. Then, they try to convince others that their efforts are superior and not ugly, inferior reproductions. You live in a forgery and are a forgery.”

The False King hesitated. I doubt he expected such total rejection of his pathetic metaphors.

He hissed, “Your Little Lord promised his walls as a tribute and wore an amulet to seal our proposal. As is common with weak, fleshed mortals, he betrayed us. Reconciliation at the last moment has guaranteed an eternity for him within Namira’s embrace. She will rend his soul until the sum of his reality.”

“Mortifayne used mortal free will and courage to defy you and your mistress. Yet, you try to make them sound like weaknesses when they are things that Namira lacks and envies. You gloat over the fate of Mortifayne’s soul when you are about to fail your mistress. I can imagine her wrath with you will be much greater than what was directed at Mortifayne. The most punishing thing she could do is tell you the truth. You are Umbacano, a miner who was fooled into wearing the Crown of Lidia and died screaming on the throne of Nenalata!”

Rados said, “I must have been hit on the head. I am following this!”

I laughed and asked The False King, “Tell me, Umbacano, what is the grand plan? You are going to kill me, so what harm is there in helping me understand why I am doomed?”

“Inquisitive flesh puppet, the Kalpa has a destiny of doom. Your world will fade, and chaos will fall upon Oblivion once more. With your clean, fresh tower, the grim mother god will ensure survival into the next world, as this tower displaces the first on yours. The deception will be complete, and when beings in the next world assemble to build the same constructs, the idea of Namira will be in their plans. Their arms will erect the frame, and our tools will make the tower whole. Their world will be mother’s creation.”

“You want to be King of Mundus yet do not understand the basics of metaphysics? For a start, I defeated Alduin and other plans that may have led to this Kalpa’s end. Therefore, this Kalpa is not going to end soon. How many more mortals will try if I fail to stop the plan of a Daedric Prince or mortal despot? Each will learn from the last until one of them succeeds. That is why during this Kalpa, The Eternal Champion, The Apprentice, The Nerevarine, The Vestige, The Forgotten Hero, The Hero of Kvatch and I, The Dragonborn, have prevented this Kalpa’s end.

You did not know I defeated Alduin, did you? I warned you when I talked to you last. Didn’t you ask mummy about me? Didn’t she tell you I have stopped other Dark Lords?”

It was hard to read the body language of the being before me. It must be worried. I am not the meek acceptor of the bullshit he expected.

“Okay, Umbacano, I understand your fleshy self was a miner and not a man of great intellect, so let me explain how it works.

The Kalpa ends when the Convention is revoked. Nothing and nobody can then agree on what is up or down, left, right, hot, cold, etc. There are many entities in different pantheons capable of revoking the Convention. Even determined mortals, like The Thalmor, can do it.

Without the Convention, the mortal plane becomes unstable, and Alduin eats the material that constitutes Mundus to reuse it in its reconstitution. This sequence marks the beginning of chaos, the Dawn Era.

Every spirit that partook in constructing the new Mundus then meets on the new Nirn. Then, they create the Adamantine Tower. In other words, the et-Ada, who become Aedra and Magna Ge, the creators of Mundus, make the tower each time. Your tower, made by an et-Ada who became Daedra, cannot replace the proper tower.

The Convention is then held at the Adamantine Tower, and the rules of the new Mundus are agreed upon. These rules become the Zero Stone of the Adamantine Tower.

At the beginning of each Kalpa, the responsibilities of the Daedric Princes may change. For instance, Namira might replace Azura as the Daedric Prince of Dusk and Dawn and no longer be the Dark Mother. Their domain of influence is set, and they cannot change their nature. A bear cannot suddenly become a dog. The Daedric Prince of Dusk and Dawn cannot suddenly become The Mistress of Decay.

This plan is not feasible, and Lady Namira would know that. This tower and you are just a part of a bigger scheme. It matters not if you fail.

It may even be a trap to ensnare me so I do not endanger other plans.

Lady Mara will guide me to the truth of what Namira is planning. Meanwhile, your soul will be at the mercy of Namira, who expected your failure from the start. That will not stop an angry mummy from placing the blame on your shoulders.”

Rados said, “That is the best kick in the balls ever!”

I growled, “Come, Umbacano. I tire of talking to an idiot. It is time for you to return to The Void and await Mummy’s wrath. You have reduced all mortal emotions to an origin of want. That is invalid logic, but it explains how Namira manipulates some of the mortals of Evermore.”

Umbacano hissed, “Exposition is trite, for your destiny remains the same, my decimation of yours. Conflict is always the resolution of gods and kings. Let fate play!”

“Conflict will be the resolution of an insane mortal miner. Since my destiny is not set, neither is the outcome of this conflict. I hoped to teach you the truth before handing you to Lady Namira for her lessons. Alas, you are too stupid to recognise the truth. Perhaps you will recognise it during the eternal torture she will inflict.”

Umbacano became surrounded by the same impenetrable field as the Sigil Stone. Several of the small flying Daedra attacked.

I quickly disposed of the flying Daedra. However, it was apparent early in the conflict that our attacks were not damaging Umbacano.

I summoned four Dremora, and they and Rados kept Umbacano busy.

I looked around the top of the tower, and the only strange object was a giant open hand surrounded by a miasma. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the flow of Magicka.

Logic and intuition combined, and I accepted the provided clue with laughter.

I called down, “This hand is open and reaching for something. It represents the base emotion of want. I can sense the connection between it and the barrier surrounding you and the Sigil Stone, Umbacano. Most dweomer can be disrupted by electricity. Let us see what happens when I apply some to this artwork.”

I cast Lightning Bolt on the hand, and Umbacano screamed.

Rados yelled, “The barriers are down, and he is trying to escape!”

I drew my sword and Blinked to where Umbacano stood unprotected.

I cut into Umbacano several times before Rados joined with his stupid sword.

Umbacano screamed once more and collapsed into a puddle of ectoplasm.

I retrieved an amulet from the puddle identical to that worn by Mortifayne.

I dismissed the Dremora and demanded, “Rados, turn off that damn glow, or I will throw you over the edge!”

Rados gave a nervous laugh and did as I requested.

“Catch your breath while I have another look around. You did well, Rados. Your Grandfather would be proud.”

The burnt corpse in front of Namira’s altar was Mortifayne. However, he wore the melted remains of an Amulet of Mara, not the cursed one he accepted that night in Munstor.

The open hand was now closed into a tight fist. I was tempted to pry it open to see if it grasped what it wanted but decided that was probably unwise.

The Sigil Stone hovered.

I told Rados, “Take the Sigil Stone and move away from the Sigillum Sanguis. You will be expelled from Oblivion as the Oblivion Gate closes. Move away from the Oblivion Gate when you return to Arnima, as they often explode. The one in Morthal gave me a terrible headache!”

“Is the Sigil Stone heavy?”

“No, Rados, they weigh a few ounces at the most.”

“And you can escape this place.”

“Yes, I have an Ayleid Waystone. It will take me to Sancre Tor or my pocket plane of Oblivion.”

“You have a place like this?”

“No. It is much smaller, and the décor is nicer. I prefer my room in Aetherius, which is quite large.”

“Okay. Gobblygook, gobblygook and Albatross.”

Rados hesitantly touched the Sigil Stone. When nothing terrible happened, he lifted it and walked away until there was a flash, then vanished.

Everything turned red and orange, and I fell onto my back.

My Lifeforce was being drained as if I were in The Void. I was going to die.

I could not reach and don the Ayleid Waystone. With tremendous willpower, I turned my head enough to stare into the globe that now hovered inches above me.

A being spoke, and I knew it was Husk.

He said, “Fallen from the womb, crawl, strive. You shall survive.”

I hoped that Husk did not use as much mumbo jumbo as Ambition. It would be embarrassing for both of us if I died in the middle of an overlong sequence.

Husk continued, “Forward unto the fissure and away from this crushing red. This cord will mark your journey home. This cord will tie us together.”

I knew where this ‘cord’ terminated and concentrated on reaching that destination. The effort resembled a drowning man hauling himself out of the water using a rope. I mentally dragged myself out of Oblivion and into Mundus.

I found myself in the entrance hall of Mortifayne’s keep. I took some deep breaths and composed myself. I could feel a connection to Husk. He had a hook embedded in my soul.

“My Dragonborn! Where are you?”

“I am in ol’ Morty’s place.”

“I am coming to you. Leave that horrible place and wait for me on the steps. Do not go anywhere else! Promise me this!”

“What is wrong? You know Mara’s Rings expose our emotions. What is wrong?”

“Please, Wulf, wait for me on the steps.”

“I…okay…”

I stepped outside and could hear the orders of Legionnaires, my friends calling out to each other, explosions, screams, and much crying.

When I first entered Oblivion, I checked the time flow, and it was the same as on Nirn. So, I thought I had been gone for six or seven hours. I had been gone for almost thirteen hours, and time likely flowed differently in and out of the tower.

Fighting wave after wave of Daedra for seven hours would have taxed my friends and the other defenders. Thirteen hours would have exhausted even those protected by my dweomer.

I descended one flight of stairs. I felt uncomfortable close to the keep.

I resisted looking from the height advantage of my location and over the city of Arnima. Did we fail in the defence of the city and its residents?

I removed my helm. I wanted to feel Lady Kynareth’s wind blow my hair. It was a connection to The Divines I sorely needed as I waited for Rigmor.

Rigmor appeared and approached slowly. She would have run into my arms with a smile and a laugh if all was okay. Instead, she walked like the condemned to the gallows.

“What is it? What has gone wrong?”

“You would have been proud to see how Legionnaires, Arnima guards, College Mages and our friends fought for hours and saved so many.”

“I can get a battle update later. Please, my beloved, what has gone wrong.”

“We lost Iona, Erandur and Remiel in the battle. Jo’rassa and several others were severely wounded and are recovering from exhaustion.”

I fell to my knees as my dropped shield clanged beside me.

Rigmor watched for a few seconds as sobs racked my body.

Then she knelt beside me and said, “Matthew and Jackos emerged from the portal six hours ago and said you and Rados were within sight of the tower. People were starting to despair as hour after hour ticked by. I told all who would listen that I would know if Sir Wulf Welkynd, The Dragonborn, fell in battle.”

Rigmor held my hand and continued, “Let us leave this place now. Vayu and Commander Drugo have things under control. Mages are putting out the fires, and Priests of Arkay will soon arrive from Skyrim. Raven Spring still stands, and most of its citizens live. That is what is important, Wulf.”

“Mother’s shrine. I must go to Mother’s shrine.”

I slowly got to my feet, and Rigmor handed me my shield.

Seconds later, we stood before Mother’s shrine, and my weeping resumed.