Chapter 34: Frozen

The shattered islands of Azura's Coast turned out to hold many places inhabited by outlaws bent on killing anyone that intruded in their domain. On an island just across a shallow stretch of water from Mawia, only ten paces wide, was a wooden door set in the side of a low hill. Scratched in the doorframe was the name 'Mabu-Ilu'. The door led to a natural cave system, though it was different to any I had yet seen. At the end of a short passage was a cavern encrusted with crystalline formations; some longer than an Altmer is tall, and others I recognised as unworked diamond deposits!

Staring deep into one of the large crystals, as if mesmerised, was a Dunmer woman in long robes. My presence seemed to take her completely by surprise, as she actually screamed when she saw me. It didn't take her long to recover, however, and she was soon waving her hands in a pattern in front of her, magical energies building between her fingers. Fortunately she was a weak combatant, and I was able to incapacitate her without taking serious injury.

The green-robed Altmer summoner in the adjoining cavern, in contrast, turned out to be very dangerous indeed. As soon as we saw each other, she rose her arms to the ceiling, her hands trailing golden light. An explosive geyser of fiery sparks shot from the cave floor, and from it stepped a creature the spitting image of Krazzt, the guardian of the Shrine of Courtesy: a Dremora. However where one of the terms of service Krazzt had been bound into was obviously to not attack mortals unprovoked, this Dremora had been bound into service with one explicit command: to kill me.

Wispy smoke seeped from the gaps in the Dremora's Daedric armour, trailing behind it as it advanced towards me. The Altmer woman followed just behind it smugly, drawing a short, glinting dagger. Cursing myself for not taking the time to find a better weapon than my silver sword in the shops, I ducked the Dremora's first blow and swung into its side; a jarring blow that felt as if shook every bone in my arm. The Dremora caught me in the chestplate with a backhanded swing, its heavy, dull yellow mace lifting me from my feet and throwing me halfway across the cavern.

Wheezing and gasping from the impact, I staggered back and readied a spell I had learnt a few days previous, but not yet had the chance to actually attempt: 'Greater Frostball'. I had studied the spell with the intention of using it in place of my Frostbite spell. Though it had saved my life on numerous occasions, 'Frostbite' had two key drawbacks: I had to be virtually close enough to touch the target for it to take hold, and when it did it had a very small area of effect. The Frostball spell had neither of these limitations, but it was more difficult for someone like me: a novice at the School of Destruction magic.

Luckily the spell worked on my first try, and a bright blue light shot from my hand and caught the Dremora under the arm. In an instant, a blanket of aching cold bloomed out and covered both the Daedra and the summoner in a thin, numbing sheet of ice. The woman screamed and backed away, trying to pry the ice from her body without taking any skin with it. The Dremora continued its inexorable advance, but I was grateful to see that the joints of its heavy armour were sticking with the extreme cold, and slowing the already somewhat ponderous thing down. I cast the spell again, this time only hitting the Dremora; the Altmer summoner had backed into the shadows, whimpering.

The glow behind the eye-holes in the Daedric helmet of the creature looked to be dimmer than they had been, so I darted in close and gave the helmet an almighty bash with my sword. I was rewarded with another solid blow from the thing's great mace, but I could see that a few cracks had appeared in the side of the thing's neck, as if my attack had bent the Daedric armour over slightly! How could I have done that? There was no way I was that strong... I put it down to the strong freezing magics of the Frostball spell making its armour brittle. More wispy smoke was streaming out of the cracks in its neck, and the red light inside the helmet was no brighter than a candle, so I dealt the Dremora another blow to the side of the head, this time dropping my shield and using both hands.

This time the helmet snapped completely off, and the Daedra disappeared in a bright flash and shower of sparks. I felt a great surge of confidence; a Dremora - I had defeated a Dremora!

My joy was short lived however, as the next thing I knew, I couldn't move. A misty green residue of Illusion magic drifted up from my abdomen; the Altmer woman had crept up on me and slashed at me with her dagger. I don't think she even cut all the way through the more vulnerable Netch leather part of the armour she had targeted, but the magical effect embedded in her enchanted blade certainly penetrated. That is what makes enchanted weapons so dangerous: they need only to connect with an opponent for their magics to take effect.

For me, it was a paralysation effect. Now I had the opportunity to feel what it was like to be on the receiving end of the potentially brutal spell. It was not nice. With a frighteningly joyful grin, the slender Altmer woman stepped out in front of me and lifted my helmet from my head. She raised the wicked-looking dagger to put to my throat... and just then my blue ioun stone settled on top of my head, and with a sudden jolt through my body I could move again! I jerked away from her blade and with firm grip on her shoulder, pushed her from me. She was taken completely by surprise; she obviously hadn't expected the spell to wear off so soon. I didn't let the summoner go, holding her at arms length as I ran her through with my silver sword.


I was shaking with adrenaline and shock afterwards, and almost cut myself cleaning my blade on her long green robes. That had been entirely too close. I never wanted to be paralysed ever again. I took her short dagger with me - such a dangerous enchantment would no doubt make the thing quite valuable, cruel though the weapon may be. I was sporting several large and tender bruises from the Dremora's crushing attacks, but they were quickly cured by my healing spell.

A Dremora, though! By all accounts they were supposed to be inordinately dangerous beings from Oblivion. How could I of all people, a sickly Breton just released from a debilitating stay in prison, defeat such a creature? I had never even touched a real sword prior to my arrival on Vvardenfell several weeks ago!

"The 'Greater Frostball' spell must be even more potent than I thought," was my initial conclusion. It wasn't until that coming evening that I realised what was actually happening to me.