Dear Diary,
It feels good to write from you from home, and it feels like it has been a month since I have written you.
While at the College I spent a good deal of time in the library, and talking to Urag he mentioned a man who could help me find an Elder Scroll. A hermit, he lived up north in the glaciers, studying something he had found ages ago. I gathered some supplies, slept for the night in my quarters and head out.
I wasn't looking forward to it as I hate water, and up here the water is freezing at that, but luckily this time of year there was plenty of ice reaching his location. I found his place from afar, a small door with a wooden boat docked outside. I entered and spoke with the man, Septimus, about Elder Scrolls, his uncovered Dwemer lockbox, and other interesting things. I loved the conversation as these sorts of secret and supernatural subjects are exactly what I hoped to explore when I came to Skyrim. He seemed a bit off which I attributed to years of solitude, but I did note some Skooma in one of his dressers when he wasn't looking. He gave me two Dwemer "keys" and pointed me in the direction of Alftand, a Dwemer ruin west of our location. It was still early in the day so I set out immediately.
Alftand was atop a mountain and the weather was quite harsh. The remnants of an exploratory party were at the top, some ruined tents and a journal of the leader. There were two dead bodies under the snow but the journal named 6. It seemed they couldn't find an entrance. I looked around and after a while of searching found a small crack in the glacier, that after a while did indeed enter the ruins. I immediately ran into two more of the party - the two khajiit. One was dead and the other a loony. I was forced to kill him, and searching his partner found a journal explaining his skooma addiction.
The rest of Aftland was a long, twisting and deep ruin, full of Dwemer automation and further down many Falmer. I am quite secure in this point saying that the Falmer are what killed the Dwemer off after all. Their disappearance was merely an exile, but their destruction happened at the hands of the Falmer, their tortured slaves. Eerie to think this was all happening under our feet without knowing, but I digress. I found the rest of the party on the way down to the entrance of Blackreach. The Orc woman was slain by Falmer arrows. The Altmer was still tied to a Falmer torture device, but was dead. The other two were still alive, who I found at the entrance of the tuning device, but were turned mad. They killed each other fighting over treasure they couldn't even reach. I felt bad for them but they were soon forgotten as I entered the next chamber - Blackreach itself.
Blackreach. No words can even describe it. It is the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I took a moment to let it set in. Luminescent mushrooms and plants surrounded me, and the ceiling was like a night sky, dotted with bright geodes. There was a small building in front of me, so I decided to search it first. Entering, I heard a faint hum that I recognized as nirnroot, but when I found the source I was astonished - it was a reddish color! I had never seen or heard of such a thing. I picked it, and gathered many other alchemical ingredients scattered about. In my elation I failed to notice a skeleton in one corner. I searched it, finding a journal and my heart sank. Dear Sinderion, a good family friend. He knew my grandmother well, and in fact mentioned her in his most recent journal entry, which I will copy here:
4E 58 Second Seed, Middas
I've spent a large portion of my life unraveling the mystery of the nirnroot and yet I still feel unfulfilled. The trilling sound this strange herb emits seems to taunt me, to push me even harder to discover its secrets. Even after a generous and indomitable traveler became a field collector in my stead, and provided me with five score of the nirnroot, I was only able to muster what I consider a mediocre alchemical creation at best. This only served to strengthen my hunger and whet my appetite for the solution.
It wasn't until over fifty years later that the answer to my prayers was carried into my basement workshop at the West Weald Inn. The first thing I heard was the familiar tone - that unmistakable warble unique to the nirnroot. But when I turned around, my heart leapt and a chill ran down my spine. This was indeed a nirnroot, but of a variety the likes of which I have never seen. The herb was awash in a spectacular array of red hues, each leaf seemingly emblazoned with innumerable variations of crimson. I couldn't move - I was completely transfixed. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a species of nirnroot with such a unique property.
After an awkward silence, I finally managed to stammer out a few questions to the traveler who'd brought me this treasure. He told me his name was Obeth Arnesian, a treasure-seeker from Skyrim. Apparently, he'd been exploring a vast subterranean network of grand caverns called Blackreach and had stumbled across what he dismissed as "a noisy red weed." His expedition was largely unsuccessful and he didn't want to leave the caves empty-handed, so Obeth picked one of the crimson nirnroot to bring home. He said that it took some time, but eventually he was pointed my way and that perhaps I'd pay a fair price for it.
Before I could gather my wits and ask anything else, Obeth offered to sell me the crimson nirnroot sample, a map showing me how to find Blackreach and the strange key needed to breach its outer defenses. It took me mere moments to decide. Obeth left Skingrad a thousand septims richer, but I would have easily paid ten times that amount to obtain the sample alone.
It took a year of planning, but I was able to pack up and sell my workshop and make my way into Skyrim. Before delving headfirst into Blackreach, I knew I needed to set up a new laboratory, but wished to do so in seclusion. After making inquiries at the College of Winterhold, of which I was an honorary member, I was directed to speak to Avrusa Sarethi, a student of botanical alchemy who had a small farm near the city of Riften. By bartering my knowledge of nirnroot cultivation, I was able to secure Sarethi Farm as a launching point for my field research. I kept the knowledge of the crimson nirnroot a secret from Avrusa, but imparted everything else I knew to her in exchange for her hospitality.
A few months passed, but I was finally ready to enter Blackreach. I used the Runed Lexicon that Obeth had provided and descended into the depths. My goal was to gather enough crimson nirnroot to produce my greatest alchemical creation to date - I was certain it would take at least thirty of them to provide the necessary catalyst.
This brings me to the present. My initial research seems to indicate that the crimson nirnroot has a similar affinity for moisture as the garden variety, but also maintains some sort of symbiotic relationship with the enormous fungi that inhabits Blackreach. It's my guess that the fungi itself is a source of water, absorbing it from the moist subterranean air like a sponge. This provides the ideal environment for the nirnroot to grow. Unfortunately, the crimson nirnroot appears to have a vastly shortened lifespan, and they are in no way plentiful down here. Gathering thirty of them will be quite the challenge, but hopefully the denizens of Blackreach will allow me to gather my samples unhindered.
I had to finish what he had started. I left the house and searched all of Blackreach. It took over a day and I uncovered many nasty critters as well, but I managed to find plenty of crimson nirnroot. I will have to make a note to find Avrusa later.
For now I finished my trek through Blackreach, finally finding the way to the large Dwemer artifact I was after. The device was massive, and much like the one I found that led me to the staff of Magnus. I used the box Septimus gave me to move the arms hanging from the ceiling. I was awestruck at the engineering of the massive machine, as the arms turned and eventually dropped down a large crystal which opened, but it was nothing compared to what I found inside...
An Elder Scroll. In perfect condition. It took me a moment to snap out of my awe. This was possibly the most rare and important artifact in the world, and it sat before me. My grandmother would be quite proud, and I felt a sense of satisfaction knowing I had finally found something equal to her own exploits. I gently picked it up and put it in my pack, and took one of the many elevators to the surface. I made my way back to Septimus, who was elated to have the etchings on his box, but thankfully wanted nothing to do with the Elder Scroll. He did however need me to collect the blood from each type of Elf, as original Dwemer blood, the key to opening the box, was obviously no longer obtainable. A bit of each would trick the box, and I agreed to help him get his samples. It was time to find out more about what I had found, so I turned to leave and go see Urag.
But as I left the room, there was a massive dark blue light, and a booming voice. It was Hermaeus Mora himself! Of all the Daedric lords, Mora is the only one I truly admire and to speak with him was a revelation and event on par with finding the Elder Scroll. All the books in Skyrim are but scraps of paper in the presence of Mora. If my path is to cross his I knew I was in for some real understanding beyond mortal man. I agreed to help him, and he left.
As I exited the cave and walked towards the College, a courier approached. He gave me a letter from Falk Firebeard,a man from solitude I consider a friend:
Given your involvement with that event I'm asking you to return to Solitude to help us once more. I'm wary of putting all the details in print, please come see me at the Blue Palace.
Sincerely,
Falk Firebeard
I was right at the College, but this could not wait. A return of Potema, the Wolf Queen, would be disastrous and on par with the Oblivion Crisis. There was enough conflict in Skyrim so it was vital to stop her now. I immediately set out for Solitude and made the long trek west.
Entering the city there were people running everywhere and screaming. I saw guards pointing their bows at the sky, and following their line of sight I saw a huge dragon crest the battlements of Castle Dour! It was bigger than any I had seen yet, and in fact for a moment thought it was Alduin himself. The dragon was quite powerful and we fought the beast for at least an hour, moving from courtyard to merchant's center, to the city proper, but the dozen guards and myself dispatched it in time. Everyone in town gathered and admired the beast, and congratulated me, but I made sure everyone gave the guards their credit as well. They fought quite valiantly and without loss, or so I thought. I turned and saw a guard had indeed fallen to the foul monster. I mourned the poor soul, and in his tribute took his armor and displayed it on the mannequin in my house to forever remember his service.
I continued to the Blue Palace and spoke with Firebeard. He told me to speak to Styrr at the Hall of the Dead. I left and spoke with Styrr and he showed me an entrance to the catacombs beneath Solitude. Her followers had broken through a wall to make a back entrance for Potema to enter. I walked in and immediately encountered, as you would expect from Potema, many undead. It did give me a chance to finally test Jzargo's scrolls, which in hindsight humorously blew up nearby undead but also blew back at me as well. Delving deeper I also ran into many a vampire, which did not surprise me. The catacombs were long and Potema spoke to me through the bond of my presence at her previous summoning, but I reached the end to the chamber itself, and Potema raised Draugr after Draugr at me. Wave after wave, so many I had to put away Aether and draw old Frosty to keep them at bay (also with a fancy new ebony shield I found in Blackreach). Frosty saw me through them all and with her power drained I entered her chambers, grabbed her skull and with a shout destroyed her soul forever.
I returned the remains to Styrr, and tired but triumphant entered the Jarls court and spoke with her and Firebeard. Their worries were over, and they recognized with me in town they had nothing to fear. She awarded me the title of Thane in recognition of my service to the city, and my own Shieldmaiden Jordis. I was glad to help though. I felt at home here, and that this was my place and where I belong.
Worn, weary, in need of real sleep, I returned home with Jordis. I made sure she felt at home with what energy I had left, and went downstairs to unload. I dropped my weapons and gear, and looked at my dear Mr. Frosty. It had been an epic two weeks. I had seen and been a part of so many legends I had only read about in Cyrodiil. I hung Frosty up on a mantle, retired, and created a new weapon for a new chapter in my journeys - Mr. Thirsty - an Ebony war axe with a penchant for Thalmor and Dragon blood...
Until next time,
- ST
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