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Kneeling down I lowered my head almost to the floor until my breath stirred up the dust. "This place has almost been reclaimed by nature, but this section is almost untouched." |
My gloved hands ran lightly through the collection of dust and soil that had built up over the centuries and scraped the tiles clear. "My guess is either the walls are much, much thicker, there’s some kind of enchantment on the stones or both." |
"But how can you tell that there are traps?" |
I gestured to the pile resting up against the wall and as she moved closer, the feeble light from the torch allowed her to see that it wasn’t a pile of loose soil but in fact a body of someone who had died a long time before. Like us, whoever they are had been wearing clothes rather than armour but of what make or des... |
Handing the burning torch to Viconia I motioned for her to step back slightly, picking up a stone from where it had fallen from the ceiling and gently tossing it underarm down the passage. The effect was immediate and as it bounced awkwardly a few metres in front of us it triggered a series of blade traps that swung f... |
"Vith..." Was all Viconia was able to mutter as the last of the spears snapped back into place and their trigger mechanisms reset. "Well, that explains the magicka I can sense." |
"Yep. Still operational even after thousands of years and just as deadly as the day they were made." Taking in several deep breaths and looking down over the dusty floor I motioned for her stay where she was. "Let me get a few metres ahead, and step exactly where I do." |
Carefully, metre by metre I moved forward past the threshold into the collection of traps. My nerves were quickly strained but we were both still making good progress. Viconia looked just as stressed as I did, perhaps more so as she ensured that she stepped precisely into the indentations of my larger footprints. |
"You’d only have this sort of defences near something that you really want looked after." I said to her as we continued and skirted around a portion of floor that looked as though it fell away into a pit. "There is definitely something down here." |
"Traps or not, I’m expecting to find this place picked clean of anything of value." |
"I believe that few, if any have made it this far." |
I couldn’t spare a glance back at her with how much I had to concentrate on my surroundings but I could hear her tiny breath as she scoffed at me. "You sound very sure of yourself." |
"I have reason to be. There have been plenty before us who didn’t make it." There were mushrooms growing out of the accumulated layers of dust all around us. Some as small as those we had made stews with on the roads, others easily the size of a mudcrab. "All of these are Cairn Bolete and only grow where someone has d... |
"How do you know all this?" |
"In Morrowind there are dozens of ancient Dwemer ruins and every single one is filled with dozens of traps and other sorts of nasty forms of death to guard against intruders. I’m not entirely sure of what sort of magicka they utilised but like this place their ruins are still incredibly dangerous even after three mill... |
"What interest would the Legion have with a long dead race?" |
"The artefact trade. Every bit of their equipment, furniture or even pieces of scrap metal are considered to belong to the Empire. No one is allowed to trade anything of dwemer make without a contract or the correct licences. The Legion is usually called into various ruins to either hunt down artefact hunters or in so... |
"Animunculi?" |
"They’re like golems, but made of the dwemer’s strange brass-steel and filled with cogs and steam. I don’t know if they are alive because they somehow act like they are and not at the same time. The smallest ones I have ever seen were about the size of a cat, and the largest was almost twice my height. I’ve heard stor... |
The traps suddenly stopped along the passage and even those few that I had half expected to trick the unwary failed to materialise. Instead we found ourselves in a single, rectangular room approximately a dozen metres wide and two dozen long. First appearances gave the impressive of a complete lack of ornamentation, b... |
Words failed us both as we moved into the room, and I found myself rubbing dust and the grime of the centuries away from the bas-relief in the walls. Even after rubbing away some of the dust I could tell that every centimetre of surface had been utilised, showing enormous flowing scenes carved with such intricate skil... |
The magnificent carvings wove a story of the rebellion but otherwise the room was empty except for the stone dais and marble pedestal at the far end. It in itself stood out far more than the carvings as it had been simply made and was left undecorated after being sanded to a perfect smoothness. In amongst such pricele... |
Built in honour of a man long since dead, the room was but a small part of the shrine and had been made specifically to contain and protect a relic of the Gods. Neither of us had truly expected to find anything on this journey, even despite the subconscious yearnings that drove us on. We had been doubtful of our chanc... |
The Helm of the Crusader glimmered in the faint light of the shrine and reflected our makeshift torch’s light back a dozen fold. Despite thousands of years in the shrine where the years had taken their toll on the marble and the very pedestal it rested upon, I would have sworn that the Helm had only just been recently... |
In the shape of a full helm it was rounded off like a bucket and covered in tiny rivets and studs where the separate layers were kept secured. The workmanship was incredible to behold, every seam, rivet and the eye slits were perfectly made with no deformities or imperfections. Scripture had also been inlaid into the ... |
"I never actually believed that we would find anything." Viconia said softly, unable to take her eyes off the shimmering helmet. "I didn’t even think that any of the relics existed and were just stupid surfacer legends. But if this one exists then so can the others." |
Studying the helmet but not being able to bring myself to touch it, I nodded in agreement. "It’s been too many years since I learned about the relics, but I think that the Helm was one of the few that have never been discovered." |
"Not taken you mean." The torch in her hands moved with her as she made her way around the dais. "It’s had company over the years." |
I raised my head slightly and looked past the helm to where she was pointing. Hidden in the darkness and facing the dais was a sad looking collection of bones that had rested for far too long without a proper burial. |
"Looks like we weren’t the only ones to have made it past the traps." I said as I moved over to her side and looked at the skeleton. "And he made it all this way only to die with his eyes on the Relic." |
"He’s no tomb robber, that’s for certain." Viconia added. "That’s Mithril." |
I knelt down over the body and knew that Viconia spoke the truth. The flesh had long since rotted away, but there was surprisingly little damage done as there had been no trace of vermin at all within the room. The skeleton was still dressed in a thick suit of mithril chainmail, pulled tight around the stomach with a ... |
"That would have been a bastard swimming in." I commented offhandedly, looking closer at the make of the armour and the handful of other items scattered nearby. A small travelling bag laid against the wall by the skeleton’s side and I found myself staring at the book that was still being held tight to its owner’s ches... |
The realisation sunk in abruptly and I looked at the hollowed skull with an uneasy feeling creeping into me. "He didn’t intend on leaving. He came here to die." |
"Why would anyone do that?" Viconia asked as I chewed my lip as I began to carefully pry the book from the skeleton’s grasp. |
"Faith can drive you to extremes." The mailed hand slipped into the body’s lap on top of the longsword as I lifted the book free. "Look at us; we’ve travelled for several days, risked drowning and followed the advice of a hallucination for gods we don’t really believe in." |
She chuckled dryly at that as I carefully cracked the book open. It was old, but the strange material of the pages left me confused until I realised that rather than using paper or vellum it had been made of papyrus instead. Paper might have been the most popular material for books, but papyrus was still popular for t... |
"This journal is a record of failure. My failure..." I said, turning and holding the pages up so Viconia and I could read the words in the light of the torch. |
In the immediate sense, this is no doubt obvious. If you are reading this, you are probably standing over my body, slain in the depths of the Shrine of the Crusader. Perhaps the gods granted me the gift of at least glimpsing the holy Helm before I died, undeserving though I am. I must believe that you are indeed a hol... |
As I write this, the scratching of my pen the only sound in the empty Priory, I am preparing to embark on my last quest for the Helm of the Crusader. I know that my chance of success is small. I am too old for such a task. This quest should have been taken up by the next generation of Knights of the Nine, while Sir Ca... |
For many years I blamed Sir Berich for the dissolution of the Order, but in my old age I have finally come to recognize my own part in those tragic events. I now believe that the seeds of our destruction were sown early, although the fruit did not ripen until late. Even in the first heady days, questing for the Cuiras... |
When Sir Berich wanted to take his Relics with him to the war, who was I to forbid him? I, who had jealously considered the Cuirass my own and none other’s? Sir Berich was wrong, but I was wrong first, and the blame for the dispute over the Relics falls first on me, the leader and founder of the Knights, who should ha... |
Sir Berich’s later actions I will leave for others to judge. But let it be known that I do not blame him for the dissolution of the Knights. If he would speak to me, I would tell him so myself. He and I are now all that are left of the original Knights. The others are all dead, and I have dedicated myself to recoverin... |
Now it is time for me to depart on my quest for the Helm. If you would follow in my footsteps, Sir Knight, know that the Priory basement, at least, will remain inviolate. I have sealed the stairs and only my ring will now open it. My brother knights will sleep in peace, in company with the Cuirass, the only Relic that... |
May the Nine guard and guide you. |
Year 153 of the Septim Era. |
A deep silence fell in the room as I slowly gazed over the remains of the last Knight of the Nine. I couldn’t help but feel humbled at the strength of will and conviction needed for an individual to travel all this way to simply die within sight of the Helm. |
"So..." Viconia said at last, looking at me questioningly as she held the dying remains of the torch. "What do we do now?" |
"We finish the quest that Sir Amiel began so long ago." I replied, carefully closing the journal and slipping it into my traveling pack. "We take the helm, find the Priory of the Nine and see if we can find the other relics." |
"I was thinking we needed to put our other affairs in order before we attempt anything like that." |
"We have to return to Cloud Ruler. Jauffre and Martin both need to know that we will be unable to support them for some time." She paused, clicking her tongue in thought. "If we return at all." |
"Agreed." Carefully I lifted the decayed remains of Sir Amiel’s hand that was still gripping his sword tight after so many years. With great respect and care I pried his fingers away from the hilt, allowing me to slip a large signet ring bearing nothing more than a stylised red diamond set in a silver shield into the ... |
With my hands clad in their gloves I reached out for the Helm, hesitant of even touching or disturbing the relic. For several moments I stood there, my fingertips quivering just short of picking the helm up from its resting place until I mustered the courage to lay my hands on it. |
"Ready for another swim?" There was a triumphant grin on my face as I carefully placed the helm into my travelling bag alongside Sir Amiel's journal. |
"As ready as I’ll ever be." Viconia muttered darkly at the prospect of navigating the traps and the swim ahead of us but we moved out of the room together, the weighty relic secured and ready to be brought back into daylight once again. |
After the years that I had spent within Vvardenfell I should have been used to the cold, but I was most definitely not. While the freezing temperatures of the southern Jerals were mild compared to the blizzards and winter months of northern Morrowind, they were still uncomfortable enough to make me glad to enter the in... |
By the time we had both risen, the Blades were going about their morning duties and routines with their usual discipline. There were obviously a lot more of them present within the fortress than what there had been the last time we stayed and everywhere we looked we could see one or two of them scurrying about on vari... |
Much had changed, and yet the fortress-monastery was still just as it was when we had left it over four months before. It had felt as though it had been an eternity and judging by Jauffre’s gaunt frame and sunken eyes we were not the only ones feeling the strain. As Viconia and I entered the main hall we could see him... |
"Viconia! Kaius!" the smell of pipe tobacco reached us a few moments before he did, grasping our hands in turn with a grip that showed none of his fatigue. "I heard you had arrived in the night. It is good to see you both again." |
"It is good to be back." I said honestly. "You could have made the weather a bit nicer for us though." |
"Ha, it’s nothing but a late winter snowstorm. You should have been here a month ago when the ramparts were nearly hidden under the snow." |
The amused twinkle in his eye returned some of the boundless energy that he usually contained and he made a handful of gestures to the nearby Blades staring at us to go about their duties. |
"Cloud Ruler seems to be a little more "full’ these days." |
"Just over a cohort and a half now." Jauffre remarked, showing his true role as Grandmaster but no dealing with or telling whole facts. "We’re as prepared and fortified as we can be." |
"How’s Martin?" Settling herself with a sigh of pleasure into one of the chairs nearly the fireplace, Viconia dragged over one of the foot stools and leaned back with legs outstretched. |
"He’s doing well, as are we all. The translation of the Mysterium Xarxes is taking much longer than we thought but we have made significant progress, especially in these past weeks." |
One of the Blades must have gone and found Martin, for we barely had time to make ourselves comfortable in the chairs before he appeared from the direction of the Library, head down and thumbing through pages of a considerable tome that looked heavier than Sunchild. His concentration may have been elsewhere but he sti... |
"By Akatosh it is good to see you both again." Thudding alarmingly on the small table in front of the fire, he placed the book down and gave us both a quick handshake before dragging over a chair of his own. Hovering at his shoulder, I initially didn’t recognise the Blade who had followed him like a shadow until I saw... |
"You are looking well." Viconia admitted, and I took had to nod in agreement. Despite the fact that he would have been effectively under house arrest in the fortress he was looking much fitter and healthier than the priest he had been in Kvatch. He may have been as pale as he usually was, but there was a growing stren... |
"Belisarius has that effect on people." Jauffre replied humorously at Martin’s discomfort at how Viconia gave the ex-priest a quick up-and-down with her gaze that was as predatory as a wolf’s. |
"You’re training with Belisarius?" |
He nodded in my direction, shrugging and trying to deflect the way how Viconia’s teasing expression had been a little unnerving. "Two or three hours a day. Jauffre’s orders." |
"You’ll be a swordsman in no time." There was a mutual chuckle between us at my comment but it wasn’t far from the truth. Belisarius would be able to teach an armless man well enough for him to enter tournaments. |
"Nothing like what I have heard about your mutual exploits." He pointed between the two of us, relaxing into his own chair and obviously feeling strain from his latest training session. "Closing another Oblivion gate, hunting minotaurs, knighthoods..." |
"Slaying vampires and werewolves." Viconia added, holding her hands out to the fire and warming them. |
"Vampires and werewolves." Smiling, he continued unabated despite Viconia’s interruption. "You are the talk of Tamriel my friends." |
"We like to keep busy." |
"That’s good." While his tone was humorous there was an edge to Jauffre’s voice. "We may have further use of individuals with your talents in the coming weeks. Martin has completed a majority of the translations and we have a clearer picture of what is needed to track down Camoran." |
"Then you have been successful?" |
"In a way." For a moment he looked uncomfortable. "It took longer than I was expecting and we needed to bring in outside help but I have managed to create a ritual that if successful, should allow us to breach Mankar Camoran’s Paradise and attempt to retrieve the Amulet of Kings." |
Viconia leaned forward slightly and continued massaging her fingers. "Doesn’t sound easy." |
"It isn’t. The ritual is going to need significant resources in order to be successful, and a lot of these resources are very, very particular." |
"How particular?" I asked hesitatingly. |
Jauffre’s pipe smoke thickened the air around us like the grey-black clouds blanketing the cliffs all around the fortress. "The Blood of a Daedric Lord, the Blood of a Divine, a Great Welkynd Stone and a Great Sigil Stone." |
Martin suddenly looked extremely worn and haggard. "Four pieces of incredibly powerful magicka and essentially essences of creation and destruction. The only problem is all four of these are incredibly rare." |
"One of the problems." Jauffre muttered. |
"The Blood of a Daedric Lord and the Blood of a Divine is surprisingly simple wherein we need Daedric and Aedric artefacts respectively. The Great Sigil Stone was the easiest to acquire but the Great Welkynd Stone could prove to be one of the more difficult to attain." |
Looking between them both I felt like most of the conversation was completely beyond my comprehension. "How was getting a Great Sigil Stone the easiest?" |
"Thanks to the efforts of the two of you, we have three such Sigil Stones from the stockpile taken from the Mythic Dawn’s Shrine." The grin that Jauffre suddenly wore was slightly uncomfortable. "One will be more than enough." |
"And if we didn’t have the stones?" |
Both of them shrugged. "Then we would have had to acquire one." Martin replied after a moment’s hesitation. "and the only way that I could imagine us gaining such an artefact would be to allow the daedra and the Mythic Dawn to open a series of smaller portals and allow them to combine together like at Kvatch." |
"One down, three to go then." I added. |
"Yes. In more ways than one it is much easier than allowing, and then counter attacking a major daedric incursion." Billowing around Jauffre, the pipe smoke seemed to grow thicker and more physical. "We also have leads on the other three artefacts. A handful of Blades have been dispatched to retrieve a Daedric Artefac... |
"And the Aedric artefact?" |
Martin shrugged, looking between the three of us. "This is a little more difficult. Unlike the Daedra Lords, the gods have no artefacts and do not physically manifest themselves in our world." |
"What about Pelinal’s artefacts?" Viconia asked suddenly, and both Jauffre and Martin looked shocked at her words. |
"All bar one of the artefacts have been lost for centuries, if not longer." Gesturing helplessly, he sat back into his chair heavily. "The only pieces of the Divine Crusader’s armour are the Gauntlet’s in Chorral and while it was the obvious choice there aren’t suitable for this ritual." |
He must have felt my gaze upon him and looked me in the eye before I could open my mouth. "Aren’t suitable? They are artefacts of the Eight aren’t they?" |
"They are... In a way. Some of my "outside help’ includes Hannibal Traven and the Cyrodiil Mages Guild. I managed to get the Guild in Chorrol to undertake some tests on the gauntlets and as far as any of us can tell, while they are holy artefacts of incredible power, they are not artefacts in the same way as Daedric o... |
Both Viconia and I shared glances and I struggled not to look at the tiny travelling bag that she had attached to her hip. Instead, I chose to change the topic away from the awkwardness that I was approaching. |
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