Chapter Fifty Two

Long after the group had settled in, hours after the festivities of the warm, happy home had died down, Auroth sat alone at the edge of the well-tended garden of Gaeolin’s home. There were no herbs stuffed in his pipe, but he still held it to his lips, idly chewing at the rosewood. The warm, slightly sweet smell of his pipe brought memories to surface, memories that had been created only in the last thirty years or so.

The High Elf had gone rogue, escaped to Skyrim and raised hell. The Nords of Skyrim refused to grant him asylum. While it was true that over the years other Altmer had found more success than he, at the time the war was still ongoing. Nearly every settlement had chased him away, most with the intent to kill him, aside from spending a few years with the Greybeards at High Hrothgar. While he had found some semblance of peace there, he left and began his journeys anew.

Auroth had known little else for a very long time. He had taken control of Broken Helm Hollow for a little more than a year by the time Gaeolin and Inigo had broken in and killed/eaten his group. When he’d met the two, he’d had no plans from there. Things had been running smoothly, as he’d established a successful smuggling route that ran in a circle from Riften, to Windhelm, to Ivarstead, and back. With his men dead, he would’ve had to start all over again.

But Gaeolin and his condition had intrigued him. The Bosmer had been cursed with a silence Shout, by a dragon, no less. Not only that, but he was the Dragonborn Skyrim had been yammering on about for months. To top it all off, he was suffering from a recent infliction of vampirism. The situation had been far too interesting and new not to get involved. It had been an adventure that lasted several weeks, and it had made him feel more alive than he’d felt since before the Great War.

And now…? Now it was over. It is over, isn’t it? he mused. The adventure is over. Gaeolin is cured, restored to living flesh. The Dragonborn has returned to Tamriel, in all his glory. Now what happens to Auroth?  How long had he been planning to stick with these two anyway? Getting to know both of them had been a pleasure. It was nice spending time among men who didn’t openly threaten to stick a knife in his back.

Auroth had been a bandit for many years. Bandit, mercenary, murderer, smuggler and crime lord. His thoughts drifted to Broken Helm Hollow. Though his men had been killed, he wondered who now ran the operations. Was it too late to return and pick up where he left off…? 

The Altmer’s thoughts were interrupted when the front door opened. There was no light from inside, and no sounds of footsteps. It was deadly silent as Auroth witnessed something he’d learned to be quite unusual: Inigo, dressed up in his usual adventuring garb and armed to the teeth…and he was headed out alone. His bow was slung about his shoulder, and he carried a full sling of ebony arrows, the dark shine of which reflected the moonlight. What really caught his eye, though, was the sword. Dawnbreaker, which the Khajiit usually reserved for old Nordic ruins, which the blue cat smartly never suggested he and his companions enter.

Auroth remained silent as he watched, tensing just slightly at the thought of having to ask Inigo where he was headed, as he would surely be noticed. Instead, the unusually silent Inigo turned and headed north, towards the road that wrapped around Lake Ilinalta. This was too strange to ignore. The Altmer quietly opened the door to the house and reached for his hammer. It had been a habit of his, keeping the hammer near the exit. It was the only object he refused to leave behind if he needed to leave quickly. Well, that and his pipe.

The night air was quite chill, perfect for a brisk walk. Auroth had trouble keeping up with his quarry, who had begun jogging once out of earshot of Gaeolin’s home. Following the Khajiit, the Elf made a note to put in more hours of jogging exercise. All these carriage rides had spoiled him.  

For the next ten minutes, Auroth silently wondered why he was following, and not bothering to make his presence known. Wasn’t there trust enough between them by now to simply ask Inigo where he was headed, alone in the middle of the night? Trust, huh? Like the way you entrust your feelings of wanting to return to the Rift and become a criminal again to your friends? Auroth grunted in pain as he stepped on a loose stone without counter-balancing. You’re garbage, Elmond. You don’t belong with these two.

The Elf allowed his thoughts to darken so quickly that he did not realize that Inigo had disappeared from his line of sight. He skidded to a halt as an ebony arrow dug into the road half a foot before him, hands going to his hammer as the Khajiit slipped out from the trees on his left, arrow nocked and prepared to fire. “Auroth?” Inigo let out a breath as he recognized his travelling companion. “Why are you…what are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same,” the Elf replied after a brief moment to allow his nerves to settle. “I apologize for causing you alarm. I noticed when you left.” He gestured to Inigo’s bow as it was returned to its resting place. “You’re armed, alone, you seem quite prepared to wage war on some poor unfortunate souls. Not altogether perplexing, but you left so quietly I doubt that you so little as left a note to anyone.”

Inigo’s ears fell in guilt. “I had not been expecting anyone to notice. I am sorry to worry you. Bah…I was not careful enough…” 

Inigo’s remorse at having been caught slipping out bothered Auroth. Just what had his friend been up to? “Where were you headed?”

“I am headed to Shriekwind Bastion.”

The Altmer’s face lit up in recognition, and realization. That place, that cursed place…it all made sense now. “You plan on wiping them all out, don’t you? Why didn’t you tell us?”

The guilt and anguish previously in Inigo’s features grew. “If you had been there, Auroth…”

“Been where?” Auroth asked quietly, as if speaking too loudly would break the Khajiit’s already frail heart.

“When Gaeolin collapsed, when he turned,” the Khajiit said, grasping at the mail shirt over his heart. “He died before my very eyes, and I was unable to protect him. That feeling of losing him while I tried to keep him within my grasp, and have him crumble in my arms. It took everything from me, all that I had left, he was all that remained. And vampires took him from me and left him a broken shell of a man.”

The silence between them was loud enough to hear a pinecone somewhere in the woods fall to the ground, rolling idly for a moment before coming to a stop. “So. You’re taking revenge on the fiends?” Auroth’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“No. I am not doing this for revenge. I am doing this for the sake of my friend’s future, and for his daughter’s future. I am taking it upon myself to ensure their safety. The undead have earned my ire before, but their presence so near my friend’s home is a danger, and it must be dealt with.”

“That is understandable,” Auroth began a little stronger. “But why do this at night, and with no word to anyone of your intentions?”

Inigo sighed, finally beginning to untense a bit. “I do not know how Gaeolin feels about vampires, having been one for so long. Going on a murderous blood-sucking rampage may not be on his list of things to do, so I am making it my mission, at least tonight. He need not know about this. Any other time and he would be suspicious.”

“Then let me come with you. Vampires are not easy prey, but this is Shriekwind Bastion…do you have any idea how dangerous that place is? Or of its history?”

Inigo sighed inwardly. “I suppose it was a bit crazy of me to think to tackle a vampire’s lair alone. Yes, come with me, and watch my back, please.” The Khajiit started off again, giving his companion a sidewards glance. “What is so important about this place? I know it is infested with vampires and possibly…other undead.”

“Many centuries ago, this was the birthplace of the first vampire. Her name was Lamae, and she was “courted” by the Daedric Prince Molag Bal. It was not an affair of her choice, and the process left her comatose. Some Nedic people found her, and took pity on her.” They soon came upon the south entrance of the damned temple. The night sky was clear, Masser reeling it’s massive red visage just overhead. Secunda trailed not far behind. The area had grown quiet, as if even the bugs were listening to the tale.

“A fortnight had passed, and poor Lamae did as well. The Nedes set up a funeral pyre, and soon after the body began to burn she rose, her body still in flames. She set upon them all. She tore out the women’s throats, she ate the eyes of the children, and she raped the men just as viciously as she had been.”

Inigo stared quietly as Auroth recounted the tale. “That is…that is how the vampires came to be?”

Auroth made a noncommittal grunt as he lit his pipe, taking a deep puff before nodding. “Well, read it in a book once, but yeah.”

Inigo almost jumped as there was a tinny buzzing sound from the jar at his waist. “Do not worry, Mr Dragonfly. I do not think they can drink your blood, especially from your jar.”

Auroth smirked at the scene. He had been witness to this a few times and had grown accustomed to the Khajiit speaking to the bug. It was just enough to lift the Altmer’s spirits. “Well then, shall we?” He stepped past Inigo, puffing still on his pipe. 

“Are you sure you want to step into the vampire’s lair smelling like that?”

“Trust me,” was all Auroth responded with as they stepped through the gate.

The temple smelled old and musty. Dust clung to the air. Rot and rust had claimed this place for centuries. There were footprints on the floor, recent proof of life, or at least a false life, but life nonetheless. The floor inclined towards the back of the tunnel, leading to a large set of double doors, which were closed. The two could hear a mad chattering in a room to the right of the doors, a woman speaking idly of her bloodly needs. 

Inigo crouched, his bow at the ready, a deadly arrow notched. “You draw her attention, stay to the left. I will take her down the second the bloodsucker-”

“Please, I’m almost done with my pipe,” Auroth shushed his friend, and with no amount of restraining his volume. Inigo glared at him as the vampire in the room took notice.

She emerged from the room, glaring at the two. Her hair was done up messily, and she looked even more tired and cranky than Gaeolin ever had been. “Blood! At last!”

Inigo hissed, drawing for the shot, when a cloud of smoke billowed from his comrade. Auroth’s hand was raised, motioning as if conducting a holy choir, his hand glowing from some kind of restoration spell. The spell itself was pouring magic into the smoke cloud, and began swirling around the vampire. She hissed, drawing in away from the light. Auroth clenched his fist, and the cloud swarmed her. She tried to scream, but was muffled as the cloud of holy smoke drove into her mouth and nose. She writhed, then fell upon the ground and slowly turned into ash. 

“…What was that?” Inigo inquired, turning to glance at his friend. Auroth sighed as his pipe cracked.

“Blood magic…with a bit of a holy twist. Wouldn’t work the way it did without a conduit.” The Altmer surveyed his pipe with another sad sigh.

Inigo made a face as he sifted through the vampire’s remains. Thank the gods he’d thought to put gloves on. “Blood magic? I am no sorcerer, but doesn’t blood magic require life force?”

“Not when you’re willing to sacrifice something quite important to you. I should’ve saved it for something truly dire, but now that I know that it works, I can at least prepare for something similar in the future.” Auroth approached the ash pile as Inigo had found nothing of use, and dropped the cracked pipe into it. “Rest, old friend,” he said with a bit of a sad smile, and covered his beloved pipe in the ashes with a foot. 

“Err…”

“You talk to a bug.”

“Fair enough.” Inigo almost smiled as he turned to the doors and procured a lockpick from his pockets. “I have never seen you casting such spells before. Why now?” he asked, picking the lock quite quickly. It wasn’t difficult. The doors opened to another room, this one ghastly. A woman’s corpse lay on the floor next to a table. The floor around the woman was odd, like a large circle inlaid on the ground. A switch was stationed next to it on the wall, to what end one could only guess.

“I like to practice different spells now and then, keeps the mind sharp,” Auroth said, casting a firebolt on a skeever that came running at them from a doorway at the end of the room. “What about you? Are you at all familiar with magic?”

“Not at all. I have not a single lick of talent for magic in me…” Inigo seemed to go into thought as he picked off a couple skeletons guarding a stairway. “Well…” The Khajiit turned to Auroth in the dusty catacombs, now that they’d come to an empty corner. “There was one time. It was probably a fluke.”

“What happened?”

“It was several months ago, a good while before Gaeolin was struck with vampirism. We were travelling not far from here when we were beset by a very unlucky dragon. Gaeolin had rushed in with his sword and got too close, he was unable to avoid the dragon’s fire. I did not think, I just acted. Frost flew from my claws and put out the fire. It was just an instance, and I do not even know if Gaeolin realized what I had done. I did not realize it myself until afterwards. I do not know if my sudden and unexpected burst of magic happened by chance, but I quite prefer my bow and my sword. I have not thought about it.”

“Perhaps you should, Inigo. The gods do not just give you magic in a time of crisis. You are born with it.”

“Hm. I suppose it is something to think about, but for now, I will hunt vampires the old fashioned way. I cannot imagine that frost would be of much use here, anyway.”

Auroth silently agreed as the two continued. The catacombs gave way to an enormous chamber, taller than it was wide. Several stairways climbed through the inner chamber, giving way to a maze-like path that trailed in and out of the main chamber. Skeletons guarded the stairways, which were dispatched easily enough. Another vampire sat guarding the second level, dispatched easily with an arrow through the throat.

The two came upon a room with three switches in the center. To their right was a room, blocked off by a gate. Two skeletons waited, pacing back and forth in their prison. Across the room was another gate, beyond which awaited another tunnel deeper into the catacombs. After a few tries and revealing two small hidden alcoves with bits of armor and treasure, the pair found the right switch. The skeletons quickly dispatched, Inigo slipped inside to find a treasure chest. He took what arrows he could find and left the rest to Auroth.

“Bleh…this is not at all what I thought it would be,” Inigo grumbled with disappointment as he dispatched a few more skeletons barring the way. The two had climbed their way to the final level, some fifty feet up. “I came to this place because I felt it was a danger to let these creatures continue their existence, but so far it has just been disappointing.”

“Famous last words, my friend.” The two came to a long, wide hallway, a closed gate at the end. A switch inlaid in a cairn waited for them. The two exchanged glances. Neither was a fool. Burnt corpses laid on the floor before them, some littered further down. Auroth glanced at the walls, reaching out to brush his fingertips against some hanging moss. He brushed the plant aside, a small grin crossing his face as he found a hidden switch behind the moss. 

The gate lifted, and the two continued onwards. They were barely past the door when a vampire and his thrall attacked. Inigo rolled to the side as the thrall attacked with a warhammer. The vampire warded against Auroth’s firebolt, then began a vampiric drain on the Altmer. Inigo, still dodging, managed to fire off an arrow that sunk into the vampire’s knee. He cried out in pain. Auroth’s hammer broke the vampire’s neck. Despite his death, the thrall continued to attack with blind fury. Inigo parried the hammer with his sword, trying to keep a distance. Auroth’s hammer came at the man’s side, lifting him partially off the floor and leaving his body broken on the ground. 

The two adventurers took a moment to catch their breath. “That was a bit sudden,” Inigo quipped with a nervous laugh. “Your hammer is lethal! And very quick.”

Auroth smiled fondly at his weapon, admiring the smooth grooves in the design of the hammer’s head. “It’s a bit lighter than your average warhammer. Swings faster, hits harder. I found it in a Falmer dwelling. Well – it was a bandit’s hideout. Falmer tunneled through the rock and killed them. Found it on some poor fellow deep in the caves.”

The Khajiit gave an involuntary shudder. “I do not enjoy raiding Falmer camps. The stench is enough to give one nightmares for weeks.”

The two continued onward with a sense that they were nearing the end of this place. They came upon another set of double doors. Auroth closed his eyes, taking in a deep, quiet breath. “This place…there is a formidable enemy here. It is guarding an ancient secret, I can hear something just above us.” 

“I hear nothing,” Inigo said with a twinge of jealousy. 

“It’s something the Greybeards taught me.” Inigo’s eyes widened in recognition. “There’s a Word Wall here.”

The doors opened suddenly. A man in full Redguard armor stood there, arms crossed. “Did either of you fools intend to just waltz in here jabbering about and take me by surprise? Let us begin.” Both combatants readied their weapons when the man reached out for Inigo. The Khajiit let out a yelp of surprise as he was hoisted off his feet by an invisible grip. He was reminded with horror of Gaeolin’s powers. The master Vampire hissed as he held Inigo in his telekinetic grip, teeth bared as he readied to bite the furry, exposed neck. 

Inigo was suddenly dropped as there was a flash of holy light. Auroth’s body was surrounded by a circle of light as he approached, the holy energies burning at the vampire’s skin. Auroth made to attack when he felt his entire body pushed. He was thrown off his feet. The impact felt like he was struck by a giant, and it left him dazed on the ground. The master Vampire stood before him, taking Auroth’s hammer in his hands. The holy spell still active, it did little more than lightly blister the vampire’s skin. “More’s the pity. You at least seem capable, but your spell irks me. Die.” 

The vampire raised the hammer over his head, but suddenly gave a gasping scream  as Dawnbreaker was thrust through his back and out his chest. Blue flaming light exploded from his center, again littering the floor with ash and a pile of clothes. “Do not underestimate me, you dried-up fiend!” Inigo brushed off Meridia’s gift and sheathed it before helping Auroth to his feet.

The Elf groaned and used Inigo for support before retaking his hammer. “Well? Was this better?”

Inigo blinked at the ambiguous question until he remembered his earlier complaint. “This certainly was a fight to remember. I wonder how old he was?”

“You should look at the rings in the ashes. That’s how you can tell his age.”

Inigo let out a hearty chuckle as he sifted through the ashes of the powerful vampire. “About…four rubies, a silver chalice, ooh, and a…” He paused, pulling a glass scimitar from the ashes. “Quite a valuable-looking sword.”

Auroth grinned at Inigo’s find, but his look of amusement quickly turned to one of questioning as the Khajiit held it out to him. “Um…” 

“Auroth, this might have turned out differently had I come alone. I am glad you were by my side. And you have done Gaeolin quite a service, my friend. It is because of you that we have achieved his return to life. You have become invaluable to us….to me. You are my friend, Auroth.”

The Altmer frowned thoughtfully at Inigo’s heartfelt words. He thought once more of leaving, of returning to banditry. Could he really do that at this point? Did he still want to? Were the adventures over? No, he told himself, taking the scimitar with a smile. They were just beginning. He patted Inigo’s shoulder, and began to lead the two back the way they’d come.

“Are we not going to see about the Word Wall?” Inigo asked.

“Nah. It takes a long time to study the Words. Maybe we’ll bring Gaeolin back here sometime to see what it says.”

“I hope you are joking…”