30th Last Seed

This time it was Lalaine who was last to arrive at the tavern. 'A late delivery,' she explained. 'I had to wait for it to arrive before I could leave. Where were we?'

'Drelis says that we've skipped a day ahead,' Phane complained. 'Our orcish smith is returning to Whiterun from Falkreath.'

Drelis held out his hands to pacify his friends. 'You aren't missing anything, I assure you. Khargol has trekked around Lake Ilinalta looking for more barrows. The word wall murals within each teach him the words of those powerful shouts the dragonborn can use, so he has tasked himself with finding as many as possible.'

'Did he find any then?' asked Lalaine, taking her seat.

'I'm afraid not, at least not as far as Lydia's records show.' Drelis had some new books on the table, books that Phane and Lalaine had not seen before. 'These are journals and copies of official records from Markarth, the western-most town,' he explained. 'It is the seat of power in The Reach, home to the barbaric forsworn.'

'Who are the forsworn?' asked Lalaine.

'That is a question that Khargol himself had to answer for himself,' Drelis revealed. 'You might wonder how Khargol came to visit Markarth in the first place. Well, I can't quite explain that myself. Lydia's diary says that he returned to Whiterun after questing for the hidden word walls in barrows and tombs, only to disappear that same night without warning or explanation. He had paid for Breezeholm's renovation, traded in the town, worked at the forge... but he did not return from the tavern that evening.'

'Did Lydia go looking for him?'

'She writes that she wanted to do so. Her thane had disappeared in the dead of night without a trace. Should she abandon Breezeholm to go looking for him, or remain in Whiterun like she had been told to? She was his representative to the jarl and the townsfolk in his absence, after all. It must have been a difficult decision.

'But, like I said, Khargol turns up in Markarth the very next day. And it is not a short journey by any means.

'Markarth is a town built into the mountainside. It is rock and stone, unlikely to be burned down by dragonfire. Still, it had its share of problems, including corruption, daedra worship, the Thalmor, and the forsworn. The town had a shrine to Talos, but it was cobwebbed and dusty. No doubt the Thalmor ambassador that paced the halls of the jarl's court was petitioning to have the shrine torn down and replaced. The town is famous for its mines, smelters, and smithy. But Markarth's wealth was not counted solely in silver; there were expansive ruins of dwemer origin beneath the city, deep and mysterious, not to mention dangerous.

'The forsworn, it turns out, are nords who are dedicated to "the old ways". They dress in animal furs and make pacts with the dark denizens of the night. The Reach was littered with their camps, and they had no love for the nords of Markarth and the other towns, let alone outsiders. Khargol witnessed a forsworn agent killing an imperial visitor to Markarth in plain sight. He found himself being pulled deeper into the conspiracy of these forsworn assassins living within Markarth's walls.'

'What do you mean "conspiracy"?' asked Phane. 'You said that the forsworn were barbarians. How can they have a conspiracy if they all live in the hills, baying at the moon?'

'Ah, well that's just what Khargol was about to find out.'

26th Last Seed

'Don't tell me that we've got to listen to their journey back to Whiterun,' complained Phane. 'Are there at least some dragons to fight on the way?'

Lalaine shook her head impatiently, rolling her eyes.

'Never fear,' Drelis assured him. 'Khargol and Lydia were in agreement the next morning that they should find a quicker route back to Whiterun. They asked a local hunter who pointed them down a game-trail that followed the river to a waterfall. If they could find a place to ford the river, they would be able to climb down the hills to the valley near Fort Amol.'

'Is that what they did then?' asked Phane.

'It was. They encountered a small pack of wolves, but it was nothing that two capable warriors couldn't handle. The walk was much easier than the one they had endured to get to Ivarstead two days ago, and a thick blanket of mist weaved its way through the trees below so that the forest appeared almost like a grey ocean littered with small green boats.'

'Did nothing happen on the way back then?' Lalaine sounded disappointed. 'Nothing at all?'

'Nothing of importance to the story,' Drelis admitted. 'There are notes in the diary about a small camp of outlaws, the scenery, a traveler smuggling moon sugar between holds, and strange lights that danced between the trees as they made their way through the woods. But nothing, like I said, of great importance.'

'So, when they got back to Whiterun, what then?'

'Well, Khargol spent a lot of time on the Warmaiden's forge, as you might expect. He improved the equipment that he and Lydia were using and forged some helms and blades for the town's guard. He might be dragonborn, but it seems that his goal of becoming a master smith was still quite important to him.'

'He must have spent a lot on raw materials,' said Lalaine.

'I believe so,' Drelis checked a diary entry. 'Khargol turned in the bounty for the bandits at the Varthiem Towers, so I should think that his reward helped with any financial costs he ran into. It seems that he had enough left over to buy property in Whiterun though, so he cannot have suffered too badly in the blacksmith's workshop.

'The house was called Breezeholm; it was largely unfurnished though, so unfortunately it lived up to its name. It was dusty and home to more cobwebs than items of furniture.

'And there you have it. Lydia's records of Khargol's movements have a large gap in them from this point. He tasked her with guarding his household, such as it was, and was gone before sunrise the next morning.'

'Where did he go?' asked Phane. 'Did he just disappear?'

'Almost,' Drelis spread his hands over the leather-bound diary. 'He had to find the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, and there were many tombs that hid secrets unseen for a thousand years. But don't worry, we know his movements. The accounts are not precise or complete, but that doesn't mean we can't build a rough picture of what went on.'

'So what did Lydia do until he came back?' Phane asked.

'What would you do?' Lalaine shot back at him. 'Your patron has left you to look after his house while he goes off to uncover lost tombs and look for legendary artifacts. You have no duties except to keep the house safe from intruders, and the local ruler provides you with a supplementary wage with which you can buy any food and drink you might need.'

'Well,' pondered Phane. 'That sounds a lot like my life already.'

The others groaned.