Morndas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201 (II)Mature

“But Dengeir was yet to be done with me. He then told me of the open grave at the town’s cemetery, and of Vighar, his vampire ancestor who rose from that grave. With the honor of his family at stake, Dengeir did not hesitate to request me – an elf of whom he knows nothing about – to put down his ancestor once and for all. Every bit of my instinct told me this was a terrible deal, but… how could I say no to the poor old man? Besides, I prefer to die battling a whole nest of foul bloodsuckers than rotting in some Akatosh-forsaken Thalmor dungeon! Still, I… I must admit… this is a very unpleasant and frightening task; a just punishment, I suppose, for what I did back in Cyrodiil…”

“As soon as the conversation was finished, I left Dengeir to his mead and went back to Lod’s smithy. Again the blacksmith did not see me coming, so focused was he at his work. We spoke of the crafts he had for sale – crafts far too expensive for what they are worth! Yet once I told him I had been sent on an errand for the former Jarl of Falkreath, Lod became much more favorable towards lowering his prices for me. Ended up buying a bow, a quiver of iron arrows, and a crude helmet to complement my thick fur attire – all for less than three hundred septims. Quite a good bargain for me, not so much for the blacksmith…”

“It must have been between two and three in the afternoon when I set foot on the road to Helgen. My step was quick, for I knew I had to find a safe place where I could spend the night. It took me but an hour to reach Peak’s Shade Tower, a ruined watchtower seemingly hospitable enough to rest for a while – if it was not for the cursed spriggan protecting it! I ran for my life as soon as I was able to set that thing on fire! Thank the Divines I still know a few Destruction spells…”

The End

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