Chapter 133: The temporary gods

I learned a lot from Vivec. Much of it was information he volunteered, and much was in response to my questions. He told me that this was to gain my trust; since his (unnerving) ability to see into my mind meant that he already knew that he could trust me to do all I could to destroy Dagoth Ur. Of course it had been I that had forced entry to Vivec's Palace and beseeched him to help me - but I appreciated the gesture. According to the Dissident Priests and the Ashlanders, Vivec was someone to be wary of placing trust in.

Some of what he told me was in the form of written documents, as he insisted that the need for his attention to be focused on holding back Dagoth Ur's forces (by proxy of the Ghostfence, I assumed) precluded the luxury of any 'redundant talk'. The method in which he made copies of these documents (seemingly from memory) was unexpected; and fascinating. As we watched, Vivec took up a container of black ink and poured it over his hand. He then planted his black hand-print on several long rolls of parchment, and stood back - hand clean once more - as the ink on the parchment resolved itself into words and paragraphs.

One of the scrolls was another account of the Battle at Red Mountain, and the events that took place immediately before and after it. The preface claimed that the account was Vivec's own; a transcription of the living god's words to a Dissident Priest who confronted him, demanding to know the truth of what happened all those centuries ago. Considering the nature of this encounter, Vivec appeared to have replied with surprising detail and honesty. After reading the 'Kagrenac's Tools' document given to me by the Dissident Priests, I was already familiar with some of what was said; but I will recount here the points I found interesting - or that became significant later:

One remarkable point (at least for someone as ignorant of history as myself) was that the Dunmer people used to be called the 'Chimer', and in fact used to have golden skin - not unlike the Altmer. Before the War of the First Council and the Battle of Red Mountain (thousands of years ago), the Chimer and Dwemer were uneasy allies after their war against the invading Nordic forces from Skyrim. At that time, Dagoth Ur (and likewise House Dagoth) was still an ally of the Tribunal, and discovered proof that High Engineer Kagrenac of the Dwemer intended to build a god for his people using the Heart of Lorkhan buried beneath Red Mountain. The Chimer viewed a 'god' such as this as a mockery of their faith - and a terrible weapon in the hands of their enemies of old.

The Dwemer refused to cease construction on 'Akulakhan' - their fabricated god - and the situation deteriorated into the war that culminated in the Battle of Red Mountain. During the battle, the Dwemer's leader was slain; and, seeing that the fight went badly for his people, Kagrenac tried to do... something (what exactly he tried to do is not known) with the enchanted tools he had made and the Heart of Lorkhan. Indoril Nerevar and Dagoth Ur were apparently nearby at the time, and all they saw was Kagrenac approach the Heart... and shortly afterwards, the wholesale disappearance of the Dwemer race.

Kagrenac's enchanted tools (which were not named, but I assumed to be Wraithguard, Sunder and Keening) remained behind, and General Nerevar entrusted Dagoth Ur with the duty of guarding them until he could speak with his advisors Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil about what should be done with them.

Nerevar told the Tribunal that Kagrenac had tried to save or empower his people somehow using the tools and Lorkhan's Heart, but the incredible power that resulted from this combination had resulted in the removal of the Dwemer from Morrowind - and perhaps from Nirn altogether. Obviously the tools were items of terrible power, and had to be destroyed or kept safe somehow. The latter choice was argued (and decided upon in the end) by the Tribunal, so they and Nerevar returned to the 'Heart Chamber' under Red Mountain to retrieve the tools from Dagoth Ur.

However, Dagoth Ur refused to give the tools up, saying that they were too dangerous. He allegedly appeared so obsessed with the tools that it was assumed that he had been corrupted by them somehow, and eventually Nerevar and the Tribunal attacked him; driving him off, and taking the tools from him. Nerevar, Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil all swore before the Daedra goddess Azura that they would never attempt to use the tools 'in the profane manner in which the Dwemer had intended'; and the tools went with Sotha Sil to be studied and kept safe. Dagoth Ur was presumed dead.

Years later, Sotha Sil told Vivec and Almalexia that he had discovered a way in which they might safely make themselves divine immortals using the tools. With plans of setting themselves up as just and righteous gods of the Chimer; divine patrons that understood the plight of mortal people, the trio made a pilgrimage to the Heart Chamber and performed the rituals Sotha Sil devised. They were successful, and became as gods with physical bodies; but Azura appeared before them and cursed them for breaking their oath, and for mocking and defying the will of the gods.

At that moment, the Chimer were all changed into Dunmer, with 'skin turned ashen' and 'eyes turned to fire'. Azura had been very displeased.

I glanced up at Vivec at that point. The change from the golden-skinned Chimer to the grey-skinned Dunmer went some way to explaining the odd pattern to the living god's own skin.

A remarkable story indeed: but it did not end there. Despite being cursed by a goddess they had once paid homage to, the Tribunal successfully established themselves as the new gods of the new Dunmer people; and Morrowind (or Resdayn as it was known then) enjoyed hundreds - even thousands - of years of peace and prosperity under their guardianship. Once a year, the Tribunal would go to the Heart Chamber to bathe in the Heart's power - and it was on one of these visits that they discovered that Dagoth Ur was not dead.

Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil were ambushed by a newly awoken Dagoth Ur, aided by his Ash Vampire brethren - and driven from Red Mountain. It was assumed that Dagoth Ur must have found a way to tap the Heart's power without Kagrenac's Tools. Since the moment of Dagoth Ur's return, the Tribunal never again entered the Heart Chamber. They tried, of course; making intermittent attacks against Dagoth Ur's forces over the years (hundreds of years, in fact) - but denied access to the Heart, they grew weaker and weaker. On one of these forays (the last recorded one, it seemed), the artefacts Sunder and Keening were lost to Ash Vampires, and the Tribunal retreated to the respective capital cities named after them, to focus on upholding the Ghostfence. By that time, the Ghostfence was the only thing holding Dagoth Ur's forces at bay.


The account certainly read like Vivec's own: it did not portray him - or Almalexia and Sotha Sil - as being particularly evil. One aspect of the transcript that particularly stuck with me was the way in which the death of Indoril Nerevar was glossed over; in fact, it was not even mentioned at all. Ashlander traditions held that Nerevar was killed by the Tribunal... so lack of a mention of Nerevar's end in Vivec's account made me suspicious. That the transcript ended with the living god threatening the Dissident Priest with death - should he reveal to anyone what he had been told - only made me more uneasy.

I looked up at Vivec once I had finished reading, and he said:

"I do not care what you believe, vampire Frost - or what you think of me. You should realise that it makes little difference now." Again I had the feeling that he knew exactly what was in my mind. He continued: "The important information to take from that scroll is what Craftlord Kagrenac aimed to do with the Heart of Lorkhan; as in some ways, Dagoth Ur is taking on the role of a 'Kagrenac reborn'. He aims to do the same as Kagrenac, and create a god - 'Akulakhan', the 'Second Numidium' - with which he can conquer Morrowind."

This was something that one of the other scrolls he gave me mentioned: a summary of the Tribunal Temple's theories on what Dagoth Ur actually wanted and intended. I will not go into slavish detail here on the contents of the scroll: suffice it to say that the Temple was quite certain that Dagoth Ur intended to drive the Empire and all foreigners from Morrowind, and rule the province (and later, perhaps, the whole of Tamriel) as a kind of god-king. A supreme ruler over all other authorities in Morrowind. This did not surprise me. What I had seen of the Sixth House spoke of a vicious, ruthless ambition behind it all: alongside the obvious depravity and insanity, of course.

I was, however, surprised to learn of the part Corprus disease played in this plan - and in the corrupted members of the Sixth House. This was something Vivec told me himself, though - as he began to summarise what he knew of the opposition we faced:

"It all begins with Dagoth Ur." Vivec said. "His flesh, and the flesh of his followers, evolves towards a mutable, magical form. He invades the dreams of Dunmer across the land - and compels them to come to the Sixth House - or drives them mad, sometimes. Of the Sleepers brought into his service, the strong have their bodies warped and changed through several stages - or 'ranks' - on the path to becoming one of his most powerful servants. Ash Slaves, Ash Ghouls, Ash Priests, and finally the powerful Ascended Sleepers, with tentacles sprouting from their faces."

"The tentacle-faced men?" I asked.

Vivec regarded me in silence for a moment, before saying:

"Is that what you call them?" I suspect he might have laughed at this point, had he been the sort to do so. Instead, he continued: "Yes... these creatures were once Sleepers lured by Dagoth Ur - the strong ones, at least. The others; those too weak to control the distorted manifestations of their flesh... they lose control and become Corprus beasts. That is what Corprus is: a manifestation of Dagoth Ur's will."

I was a little shocked. Everyone said that the Blight and Corprus came from Red Mountain, of course; and that Dagoth Ur was to blame - but an intentional effort to subvert or convert his enemies? It was horrifying. Not least because that corruption had been in my own body - and perhaps part of it still was (according to Divayth Fyr).

"Still higher in Dagoth Ur's service, however -" Vivec went on - "are his fellow 'heartwights', the Ash Vampires. Have you seen one?"

Sirilonwe and I both nodded.

"But you were unable to kill it, correct?"

Again, we nodded.

"Then you know something of what it is to face Dagoth Ur in battle." Vivec was nodding now, and he looked pleased (though I could easily have been imagining that - he was not the most expressive being I had ever met). "Heartwights are bound somehow to the Heart of Lorkhan. They are supremely difficult to kill, and even should that be achieved, they will be revived in the Heart Chamber shortly afterwards. This is true of the Ash Vampires and of Dagoth Ur, just to be clear."

The living god paused.

"Which brings us to what you must do... if you would destroy Dagoth Ur. As I said, the Heart of Lorkhan must be destroyed... or perhaps only the enchantments placed on it by Kagrenac that bind Dagoth Ur and his minions - and Almalexia, Sotha Sil and I - to it. In any case, Sotha Sil tells me that Kagrenac's Tools are required for this - and as you have just read, Sunder and Keening are lost to Ash Vampires. We - the Tribunal - cannot leave our havens to retrieve them; we must maintain the Ghostfence. You, vampire Frost, have nothing to keep you from getting them back. I will tell you where they are probably being held, but first -"

Vivec pointed at me, and I blacked out for a moment. It was something like the sensation of teleporting from one place to another, actually. When I came back to myself, I was cradling something cold and heavy in my arms.

"I can still give one of Kagrenac's Tools to you." Vivec was saying. "That is Wraithguard."

I was holding a great right-handed gauntlet of gleaming Dwemer metal. It was enchanted with powerful protective magics, and was so long that it would actually protect my entire forearm, as well as my hand.

"You may have felt strange just now." Vivec said, as I turned the Wraithguard over and over in my hands. "I had to... change you, slightly, so that you can safely wear that. Wraithguard is an artefact of great, great power. You will not die or be taken while you carry that. Should your death - true death, vampire - approach, you will teleport away to safety - understood? We cannot lose Wraithguard as well."

I pulled off my 'Shadow Lord' gauntlet, and slid the Wraithguard on. The power in it was indeed tremendous.

"Now..." Vivec said, "you are appropriately armoured to put our enemy to death."

Chapter 132: Place in the world

"I have never met anyone more inclined to rash decisions than you, Edward." Sirilonwe, as often seemed to be the case, was styling herself as the voice of reason in my life: "You cannot seriously mean to just walk into Vivec's Palace and ask him how to kill Dagoth Ur."

After telling Nibani Maesa what I truly thought about the Nerevarine prophecies, Sirilonwe and I had left the Urshilaku camp immediately - without speaking another word to anyone. I doubted that I could ever go back there, after what I had said - not without violence, at any rate.

I was obsessed, you could probably say. I just had to see to it that House Dagoth was destroyed: I could not stand the thought of all those Dunmer people lured by their sleeping and waking dreams to sickening places like Telasero; where they would likely die or become corrupted by Corprus.

"Vivec must know." I insisted. "I don't know who else I can turn to in this - and I don't know what I would do if House Dagoth is left to continue like it is. Look, Siri; knowing what you do about what's really happening to this place - to Vvardenfell, I mean - what else can we do?"

I think that what Sirilonwe had seen of the disfigured Sixth House monsters in Kogoruhn influenced her in my favour; she eventually agreed to my plan.


Not that it was much of a plan, really.

We stood outside Vivec's domed palace, at the southernmost tip of the holy city; readying ourselves to go in. The palace exterior was deserted; it was quite late at night, after all. The lack of guardsmen might have been puzzling, were the occupant of that palace not a living god. Lord Vivec needed no bodyguards, I was sure.


With sight augmented by the magical, vampiric blood in my veins, I looked through the single small door to the palace - with its complex lock and powerful electrical trap - and saw, or perhaps felt, a single, pulsating power inside. It had to be Vivec; and he was alone.

I felt a powerful sense of trepidation as I backed away to a safe distance and magically neutralised the lock and the trap. If the man-god inside objected strongly to our intrusion, we would likely not have a chance to retreat. To reassure myself as much as Sirilonwe, I said, with an attempted grin:

"I've read that Vivec is compassionate - so as long as we're polite..."

She only clenched her teeth, and followed me inside.


Vivec stared at me for what seemed like a long time, his large eyes not blinking once. He did not shine with divine light, or speak with a booming voice as I might have expected; but the sense of presence he exuded was almost unbearable. I felt helplessly drawn towards him, a feeling very similar to being dragged inexorably out to sea by the tide. An unpleasant feeling.

He looked much like an unusually tall Dunmer, and wore only a loin-cloth, a couple of arm-bands, and bonemold and chiton pauldrons - attached to a heavy golden necklace. Perhaps the strangest aspect of his appearance was his skin: it was two colours, rather than one. The left half of his body was grey, like the Dunmer; and the right half was golden, like the Altmer (only perhaps a little more bronzed). The colours met in a dead-straight line down his body: right from the top of his head, all the way down to his pelvis. He was sitting cross-legged and floating, unsupported, in the air above a three-sided dais.

As we stood and stared at the man-god, seemingly unable to say a single thing, Vivec raised one hand, and pointed at me. I suddenly felt afraid - I knew I was in great danger.

"You are uninvited." Vivec said, his voice flat and emotionless. "Why are you here?"

"Sorry for the intrusion," I said tentatively; somewhat cowed, "but the priests would never have allowed me in to see you had I simply asked."

"There are very good reasons for that, vampire. My attention must be on this land's enemy."

I shifted my weight. Suddenly I was feeling very weak; as if my strength was flowing out and into Vivec.

"That is why I'm here!" I struggled. "I've seen the Sixth House - I've fought the Sixth House. I want Dagoth Ur's destruction, and... I know about Kagrenac's Tools."

Vivec's expression did not change, but I was feeling still weaker. I fell to my knees, and realised I could feel something wet and sticky running into my mouth: my nose was bleeding.

"Edward..." Sirilonwe whispered, a pleading note in her voice. Her hands were tight on my shoulders.

"You do not endear yourself to me by speaking of our eternal shame;" Vivec said, still in his emotionless monotone; "but... I see your mind now."

At that, the horrible sensation of my strength leaving me stopped abruptly, and I was able to stand again. The man-god continued:

"You sincerely wish the end of Dagoth Ur."

There was a long pause, in which I steadied myself and wiped the blood from my face. My nose had stopped its spontaneous bleeding. Vivec's hand was resting on his knee once more.

"Why did you become a vampire?" He asked eventually. "Was it to escape death? Mortality?"

"I was dying." I replied, nodding slowly and carefully - worried at what would happen if I offended him somehow. "I wanted an escape from that."

Vivec nodded too, and said, surprisingly:

"I know how you felt... Mortality is a cruel reward at the end of a life dedicated to finding time for worthwhile and just endeavours. You said you know of Kagrenac's Tools; from accounts in the Apographa, no doubt. There is some truth in those accounts - so I would presume that you know of the manner in which Almalexia, Sotha Sil.... Dagoth Ur - and I - came into divine power?"

I recounted briefly what I had learned from the 'Kagrenac's Tools' essay that abbot Barelo had given me: about Wraithguard, Sunder and Keening - and the heart of the dead god Lorkhan. Vivec confirmed all this with a wordless nod, and then - again - said something I was not expecting:

"Have you ever tried to kill yourself?" He asked, darkly.

I was taken aback, and all that came to mind was:

"Well, there was that trick to the Puzzle Canal underneath your palace." I replied, frowning. That 'trick' - which essentially involved drowning oneself in the Puzzle Canal, to be revived near a secret shrine associated with the Pilgrimage of the Seven Graces - was quite an unpleasant memory for me.

Vivec grimaced slightly - the first expression of emotion I had seen him make.

"Yes... that test was constructed in the spirit of what I wanted to - one day - have the willpower to do. Well - perhaps want is the wrong word."

The man-god paused again - apparently lost in thought; even though his eyes never blinked, and never left mine.


"Destroying the heart of Lorkhan is the only way to strip Dagoth Ur of his immortality." Vivec said eventually. "I have known this for a very long time. The reason Almalexia, Sotha Sil and I have not done this ourselves is because destroying the heart would be akin to suicide for us. We too would be stripped of our divine powers; and in time - perhaps only a short time - we would die."

It all made sense - destroy the source of Dagoth Ur's power to destroy him. I thought I could also understand why it had not already happened: and what Vivec said next let me know that I was right:

"This is the shame I spoke of. The need for our eventual self-destruction was established when we first took the power of the heart - but until recently we deluded ourselves that we could escape this fate; Almalexia, Sotha Sil and I. Until recently, Dagoth Ur slept beneath the mountain." Vivec sighed - an odd sound, that gave the impression of a building settling. "Now he has awoken, and an army stirs in his shadow. We lost the chance to quietly do what was necessary by ourselves - in secret - and now raising a force to storm the heart-chamber would necessitate the disclosure of our shame to the world. For I do not think that - even now - Sotha Sil, Almalexia or I would have the strength of will to end it ourselves."

Vivec gazed at Sirilonwe and I with renewed intensity.

"I know who you are now. You - both of you - have power, but no real allegiance - nothing and no-one that would prevent you from..." He trailed off, and left the sentence hanging. "Yes, you have your 'ranks' in your guild of mages, but I can see that it means little to you: now, if not always. You have power; few in this land could stand against you - but you are still in the world. I have studied the immortals of Morrowind - and some are superior to you. The dark, ancient vampires deep in their holes in the ground: they could crush you - or almost anything they chose. But they do not: they stay in their holes, bored and waiting for the world outside to end."

"No - you are not all-powerful, Frost: but you still need this world - and that may be enough."

Chapter 131: Failing

With an immortal beast stalking us through the lava tunnels under Kogoruhn - a beast that I was certain was an Ash Vampire - Sirilonwe and I raced along as fast as we could, hoping to outrun the thing. Unnervingly, we could not actually tell if it was following us or not: the Ash Vampire had kept eerily silent all through our frantic battle - and if it was chasing us, it was remaining just as quiet about it.

Fortunately, we encountered no other resistance until we found a room with several small shrines (or grave markers - it was difficult to tell), each of them decorated with valuables. Some were quite valuable, indeed. Once we had reduced the tentacle-faced man guarding the chamber to a smear of putrid yellow dust, we had a close - but brief - look around. Along with the Shadow Shield Ashkhan Sul-Matuul wanted (a Dwemer shield enchanted with a minor invisibility cantrip), we found a pair of Daedric gauntlets, in perfect condition. A princely find for my museum.

Considering ourselves fortunate to have found what we came for with that Ash Vampire around, Sirilonwe and I teleported home. The sun was already high in the sky by that time, so we had another day of tedious Mages Guild business to sit through before we could return to the Urshilaku camp.


"Yes... good." Sul-Matuul said. "I knew you would have little trouble with this test."

The Ashkhan took the House Dagoth cup and the Shadow Shield, but indicated that the Corprus weepings (which I had wrapped in a piece of waxed paper) should be thrown in his yurt's hearth-fire.

"You are the first to come this far in a long while." Sul-Matuul continued. "I have no reservations about telling you the secret of the 'Cavern of the Incarnate' now; though you may be disappointed to learn that all I know is this riddle:"

"The eye of the needle lies in the teeth of the wind. The mouth of the cave lies in the skin of the pearl. The dream is the door and the star is the key."

The Ashkhan shrugged, saying:

"This is Wisdom's Test. Seek the wisdom of the tribe, and you shall find the way. Find the moon and star in the Cavern of the Incarnate, and then talk to wise-woman Nibani about it."

That - irritatingly - was all he would say. At least by telling me to "seek the wisdom of the tribe", he had given an obvious hint as to who might help me with the riddle. We went to see Nibani Maesa again.


Strangely, though the wise-woman had refused to speak of the Third Trial directly, she still answered my questions about the riddle; telling me what she thought each line meant. According to her, the star referred to in the riddle was Azura's star; which was only seen in the sky at dawn and dusk. Therefore, the line 'the dream is the door and the star is the key' meant that the door to the Cavern of the Incarnate could only be opened at dawn and dusk. Just like Holamayan, I thought.

As to actually locating the cavern, the first two lines of the riddle were my directions - apparently. Nibani told us of a 'Foyada' (or trench carved out by lava-flows) called the Valley of the Wind, that ran south from the northern coast of Vvardenfell. The valley's entrance, located just past a pair of ruins close to one another (Dwemer and Daedric ruins named Bthuand and Zergonipal respectively), was marked by two great stone spires called 'Airan's Teeth'. These would be the 'teeth of the wind' from the riddle's first line.

'Skin of the pearl', in the second line, referred to another distinctive stone formation at the southern end of the Valley of Wind: another tall spire - with a pale tip. So, 'the mouth of the cave lies in the skin of the pearl' meant that the Cavern of the Incarnate could be found near that distinctive stone spire.


I was still unsure exactly what I was supposed to go to this cavern for - but deciding that at least investigating it would be little trouble, in the grand scheme of things, we set out immediately. Of course if we did find it, and - like Holamayan - we could not get in until dawn, it would mean another long night without feeding; but we knew from uncomfortable experience that we could manage.

We jogged along the grey northern coast, the clear, cold night turning to rain as we went. For maybe an hour we ran through the rain, our feet making sucking noises in the damp ash and sand. The rain began to ease off as we passed Bthuand and then Zergonipal; and then we found it: a deep, smooth Foyada marked by two huge, monolithic stone spires: Airan's Teeth.


As Sirilonwe and I started up the valley, the clouds above scudded aside to reveal the near-full moons. The moonlight fell on the grey, cracked ground, the ghostly light reflecting up and illuminating the whole of the narrow, sheltered valley. For an hour - or perhaps two - we walked along that deep Foyada, the moons hanging in the sky directly over our heads, and bathing us in their light.


Eventually, the path rose into a slope and curved up and around to the west, and then the north. At the end of this hook-shaped path was the door from the riddle: or doors, I should say. Two huge metal doors, fashioned with designs of moons and stars - that predictably refused to swing open, no matter how much force I applied.

My pocketwatch said it was only three hours past midnight. We were faced with a wait, just like outside the Holamayan monastery. Without being able to concentrate on anything that required much thought (since we both knew we would likely be burnt by the sun soon, in our attempts to enter the cavern), we sat and watched the threads of light behind the stars while we waited for the sun to rise.


We were already straining against the doors as the dawn's light began to scald our skin - and they swung open easily.


Inside, a short tunnel terminated in a small cavern. A beautiful statue of a woman's upper body sat in the cavern's centre, bathed in an otherworldly light - the source of which I could not find. A fine ring of silver and gold - with the device of a moon and a star fixed to it - was cupped in the statue's outstretched hands.

"That is the 'moon-and-star' ring!" Sirilonwe exclaimed. "I was reading about it at Holamayan: it is the ring that Indoril Nerevar had made for himself. He had it enchanted so that only he - or the Nerevarine, as the Ashlanders now say - could wear it. It would kill anyone else who tried to put it on."

So that was the 'moon and star' that Sul-Matuul had been hinting at: an enchanted ring that once belonged to Indoril Nerevar. It sounded dangerous. As I reached out to catch the tiny thing up, I decided that I would take it back to the castle - or maybe to my friend Folms, the enchanter, to study its properties. This plan was still forming in my mind when I abruptly realised that the ring was on my finger - without my meaning to put it on!

I yanked the thing off, and stood there for a long moment, frozen; just staring at it.

"You're not dead." Sirilonwe observed. "Well - you are dead: you're a vampire. But... actually, that would probably be why the ring did not kill you: you are already dead." She held up her hands, palms out. "Do not give it to me to test that theory, though!"

I held the moon-and-star ring up close to my face to examine it closely - and promptly received another nasty shock when I realised that Sirilonwe and I were no longer alone in the cavern. There were soft rustling and muttering noises coming from all sides... and my feeling of alarm did not ease when I realised what was making them.

We were surrounded by ghosts; all standing quietly in the darkness that pooled around the edge of the cavern. The one closest to me spoke, saying her name was Peakstar. I had heard the name before: Peakstar was the most famous of the 'Failed Incarnates' - people that were rumoured to fit the Nerevarine prophecies, but had failed; usually through the folly of dying.

Every ghost gathered in that small cavern was the same: they were all Failed Incarnates. Peakstar told me of her death at the hands of an Ash Vampire: that had been her failure: she had been "unable to master the arts of war", as she put it. Once she had said her piece, she vanished. I walked among the ghosts, and all did the same thing. They told me of their failure, and then vanished.

They also all said something which troubled me; and I could not understand why, given my attitude to the prophecies. They all told me:

"You are failing."


The following evening, we sat again in wise-woman Nibani's yurt. The Dunmer woman, a dreamy smile on her face, gazed at the moon-and-star ring; held between my thumb and forefinger (I was unwilling to let anyone else touch it, after what had happened when I picked it up).

"What did you see in the Cavern of the Incarnate?" Nibani asked me. "What did you hear?"

I told her about finding the ring, and the ghosts speaking to me - but this did not seem to satisfy her.

"Yes, but what did you see, vampire-Nerevarine? What did you hear?"

Somewhat confused, I insisted that the statue, the ring, and the ghosts were all I had seen. The wise-woman now seemed quite wrong-footed:

"Is that so? It's only that... I saw in my dream that you would..." She trailed off, and gazed at me for an uncomfortably long while.

Eventually she blinked a few times, rapidly, and continued:

"Well, vampire, the Third Trial is complete: you bear the moon-and-star. I congratulate you." Nibani seemed distracted as she spoke. "Now - the Fourth and Fifth Trials are similar to one another, and will both be considerably more difficult than the Third Trial; but as it is said, the Nerevarine will succeed where all others have failed..."

She went on to describe them, but I had of course already heard about the Fourth and Fifth Trials. The Nerevarine was supposed to be able to gain the support and public recognition of all the Ashlander tribes and all the Great Dunmer Houses that resided on Vvardenfell. The Ashlander Tribes had to all name him Nerevarine; and the Great Houses Hlaalu, Redoran and Telvanni had to all agree to name him as 'Hortator', the combined warlord of the Houses.

It was an impossible ask, basically. I had been holding out hope that Nibani had some small, perhaps purely ceremonial matter in mind for the Fourth and Fifth Trials that I could wade through - just to satisfy her and the other cult members enough so we could continue on down the 'path' they had in mind, and eventually come to some way to fight Dagoth Ur. However, when the wise-woman began to speak of persuading every Ashkhan of the Ashlander clans - and every councillor of every Great House Council - to publicly name me Nerevarine and Hortator, I gave up that hope.

There was just no way it could happen. Well, maybe the Ashlander clans: I had already won over the Urshilaku, after all. Not the Great Houses, though. The clans were small and tight-knit, like extended families. The Great Houses represented the government on Vvardenfell; large and structured. A Charm spell here and there would do nothing: not in regulated bodies like those. Any strange or uncharacteristic behaviour caused by such a spell would be recognised.

I was a vampire - they would not do a thing for me; especially not accept me as the Nerevarine. The Great Houses (especially Redoran and Hlaalu) were known to be well under the thumb of the Tribunal Temple; and the Temple persecuted the Nerevarine cult mercilessly.

Added to all this, of course, was the fact that I had never - and still did not - believe that I was the Incarnate.

No, I had to finally accept that Nibani Maesa and I would never see eye-to-eye on the matter of my part in the prophecies - and it was time she was made aware of this. I had been sitting there in silence, lulled by the words of the wise-woman as she spoke of my destiny, as if it was not really my own... and I realised that it was all I did, when it came to the Urshilaku. I had always just sat and listened - and did as they asked. It was too much.

I stood up.

"I am sorry, sera Maesa," I said; "but I do not believe that I am the Nerevarine. All I see are coincidences. Born on a certain day to uncertain parents. That could be many people. Age cannot harm me because I am a vampire. The 'curse-of-flesh before me flies' because a wizard's deadly 'cure' could not kill someone who was already dead. In exactly the same vein, this moon-and-star ring - that is supposed to expose False Incarnates through their death - cannot kill me because I am already dead!"

The wise-woman wore an expression of pure shock. Sirilonwe looked surprised too; but only at my sudden candour, I think. She already knew - and agreed with - my opinions on the prophecies.

"It is all a convenient coincidence - for you -" I continued - "but even if, somehow, I could become the Nerevarine through virtuous and foretold actions - as you seemed to always believe, wise-woman - I would not care to. Why would I? I first came to you - to the Urshilaku - because I was curious about your beliefs. I am sorry to have lied, but that is all that brought me here. I only returned because I was promised the end of Dagoth Ur if I did what you said. The destruction of House Dagoth is all I want. I am not here to be used by the Urshilaku - and all the other tribes - to add to the prestige and power of your clan with knowledge and artefacts!"

This was not something she could deny. I had fetched items of power for Sul-Matuul under the guise of his endless 'tests'; and I had delivered prophecies to Nibani that had been lost to the Ashlanders for scores of generations. They were using me.

I had no need of them. If they knew how Dagoth Ur might be defeated, they would have done something about it - told someone. Told me.

No - I knew who I needed to speak to.


"Another failed one, then." Was all that Nibani said as I left her.

Chapter 130: Immortal

Though he did not say as much, Ashkhan Sul-Matuul seemed as sceptical as I about my being the incarnation of Indoril Nerevar. Wise-woman Nibani had sent me on to speak to her Ashkhan about the Third Trial (of the seven mentioned in the 'Seven Trials of the Incarnate' prophecy), as for some reason that she was unwilling to relate, she was forbidden to speak of that particular trial.

If you are wondering why I am suddenly speaking of a third trial when I have not mentioned the overcoming of the first two, it is because I had already passed the First and Second Trials. This was according to Nibani Maesa, at any rate. I passed the First Trial because of my birth-date and because I did not know my parents: I was born 'on a certain day to uncertain parents'. I passed the Second Trial because as a vampire I was 'immune' to aging; and thanks to Divayth Fyr's treatment I was immune to Corprus disease. 'Neither blight nor age' could harm me.

As it turned out, Sul-Matuul was also unwilling to speak about the Third Trial of the Incarnate: at least at first:

"Many have gone before you," Sul-Matuul rumbled, "saying they are the Incarnate. All are dead or proven cowards now. The Nerevarine must be strong - a warrior - so for every hopeful that comes to me, I set this test; to see if they are a warrior. Though for you, vampire, I think it will test your loyalty and determination to our cause, more than anything." He looked me up and down slowly. "For you are already proven a killer by virtue of your vampiric nature."

He described an ancient Velothi stronghold to me - and it was not one of the ten I already knew of that housed the propylon chambers that I used to teleport around the island. This one was called Kogoruhn, and from the Ashkhan's description, it was obvious to me that it had become a lair for the Sixth House.

The three 'tokens' Sul-Matuul wanted me to retrieve from Kogoruhn (as proof of my willingness as a thrall of the Urshilaku - as I darkly suspected) were what gave it away. The first was a sample of Corprus weepings - which of course could be gathered (rather revoltingly) from a Corprus beast - and as I had seen, sufferers of Corprus gathered at Sixth House lairs like flies to places of stinking corruption. The second token was a cup with the mark of House Dagoth on it, and it was here that the Ashkhan admitted that he knew very well what Kogoruhn was:

"Yes, a House Dagoth cup. Dark Kogoruhn is the lair of our enemy, and it is too close to our camp for our comfort. I will not lie: that is why I send you there; in the hope you will... lessen the danger in that place."

Knowing that Kogoruhn was a Sixth House base, I would have gone regardless of what the Ashkhan wanted; and he did not have to hope that I would kill as many of the monsters there as I could - I would be glad to do it.

In any case: the final token Sul-Matuul wanted was the 'Shadow Shield', an enchanted item that apparently lay on the tomb of a 'Dagoth Morin', in the lava tunnels beneath the stronghold. The name Dagoth Morin brought to mind - uncomfortably - Dagoth Gares, the deformed creature who had cursed me with Corprus. Kogoruhn sounded like a dangerous place indeed.


So I was surprised when Sirilonwe said that she would go with me into the stronghold.

"I have waited outside too often while you go alone into dangerous places." She said. "I will watch your back, and you will watch mine. I believe we are safer together, anyway."

For my part, I believed that there had been good reasons for all the recent occasions on which Sirilonwe had stayed behind while I did something dangerous - and that there was another good reason for her to do the same while I went into Kogoruhn:

"Siri, it will probably be just like the other Sixth House bases I've seen -" I told her; "crawling with disease."

"And I am not immune to Corprus like you probably are -" Sirilonwe replied; "I know. You came out of Telasero and Falasmaryon perfectly healthy, though - from what you tell me. In any case; I have my spells to protect against Corprus, and if I see a 'Dagoth' like that Gares, I will go invisible and you can kill it for me, alright?" She gave a smile, showing her fangs.

In the end I relented and agreed to her company. I would feel safer with her watching my back - as she had said.


We elected to go to Kogoruhn immediately, leaving directly from the Urshilaku camp. We were already wearing our armour and had our travel supplies with us - as always when travelling in the wilderness - so there was no real reason to wait.

The trek only took an hour or two, heading south-east from the Urshilaku camp, and Kogoruhn was just where Sul-Matuul said it would be: over a steep ridge of worn, wind-blasted stone from the Falasmaryon stronghold. Kogoruhn reminded me in some ways of Telasero: they were both built in the same Velothi style, and both squatted in a barren depression in the ground. The depression protected Kogoruhn from view - and from the harshest of the Ashlands' winds - but a restless breeze still blew gently across the massive stone platform, brushing over the drifts of soil and ash that half-buried the ancient structure.


There was no-one outside, guarding the stronghold; but when we began our search for the three tokens with the smaller buildings that sat on the great stone table, we found that there was more than enough resistance on the inside. Even in those confined spaces, the tentacle-faced men and ash-skinned 'zombies' we fought there threw their powerfully destructive magic about with abandon. If Sirilonwe and I had not been experts at countering spells and dispelling harmful magic, we would likely have been burnt to a cinder.

In one of the small, domed buildings on top of the stronghold, I found two of the items Sul-Matuul had requested: some Corprus weepings were smeared along the wall in a long, sticky trail; and an ornate goblet (that shared the colouring and engravings of the sinister 'whispering shrines' I had seen before in Sixth House lairs) was sitting on a table.

That left only the 'Shadow Shield' to find, and only the largest structure on the stronghold to search. As I had suspected, this building was the entrance to the Kogoruhn stronghold proper. It was rife with sickening creatures. We went from room to room, killing every deformed monster we found. There were no Dreamers - no-one that still looked like man or mer - to be found in those halls.


Kogoruhn actually appeared as if it had been inhabited by humans in the not-too-distant past, and that the Sixth House had taken the stronghold from them by force: either by driving them out, or simply killing them all. I say this because there was furniture all through those dark chambers, whereas there had been none in Falasmaryon, Telasero, or Ilunibi.

In a vaguely disturbing fashion, in almost every room, the furniture - soiled by Corprus weepings - had been stacked into elaborate and precariously-balanced piles. Stools on top of chairs on top of tables, with ceramic bowls and jugs perched on the very top. I still cannot imagine why those mindless Corprus beasts or ashen zombies would have done such a thing.

We pushed on deeper into the complex, and found something I had definitely not expected: an ancient waterway, reminiscent of a sewer. The place was rank with the stench of the fetid, reddish water collected in the canals. I was very glad of the walkways that flanked the canals. Even water-walking on the surface of that red muck would have been extraordinarily unpleasant.

Beyond the canals were the lava tunnels Sul-Matuul had spoken of; and they were nearly unbearably hot. Sirilonwe and I gave any open lava pits we encountered a wide berth. Vampires are not fond of fire and extreme heat.


It was searching gingerly through those tunnels that we met what was possibly one of the most fearsome opponents I had ever known. At first glance, he - or it - appeared as a Dunmer man of great stature - but on closer inspection, the beast - which was naked but for a golden loincloth and golden head-dress - had a long charcoal beard (unlike any Dunmer I had ever seen), a strange pattern of muscles to his body, and long talons for fingernails.


He was a tough opponent. I sliced again and again at his body, but only ash trickled from the wounds. Sirilonwe set him on fire - but the magical flames died down quickly, leaving blackened skin that hardly seemed to pain - or even slow - him at all. In the end, Sirilonwe managed to pierce him through the abdomen with her Daedric blade; which served to halt his twisting, erratic movements long enough for me to remove his head with my own blade.

The creature had left us both with several ragged cuts from its vicious talons, and a number of bruises from its powerful limbs. Our vampiric constitutions seemed to be stopping the wounds from bleeding too much, but there was nothing much we could do to treat them properly until we could feed again: fresh blood would heal us.

I was distracted by fond thoughts of Hunter's rich blood, waiting for us back at home, when Sirilonwe clutched my arm, staring fearfully back at the body of the bearded 'man' we had defeated. His arm was reaching out slowly, the taloned hand searching along the stone ground for something. The creature was not dead!

As we watched, horrified, the monster's hand found its head, lying on the tunnel floor; and grasped it by the long, charcoal beard, to draw it back to its body.

At that, we turned and ran. I thought then that I knew what the thing was: an 'Ash Vampire': very different from 'blood vampires' like Sirilonwe and I. They were said to be Dagoth Ur's immortal servants: highest in his service - and believably so, if the tales were to be believed, and they were truly immortal.

For what if they were really, truly immune to death? I was immortal, but I could still be destroyed. How could I fight something like an Ash Vampire, if it could not die?

Chapter 129: Conspiracy

"I want to stress that this information is not based on hearsay or unreliable, unproven conspiracy theories." Said Galvis Barelo, wearing an intense expression. "This has been recorded in the Apographa for thousands of years. It is true."

I glanced back down at the short essay that was 'Kagrenac's Tools' - one of the other documents abbot Barelo had had transcribed for me from the Dissident Priests' archive of censored works. I could see why he was keen to reinforce its veracity: it was quite a fantastical tale.

In summary, the essay said that long ago, the Dwemer found a great magical stone underneath Red Mountain, and determined that it was the heart of the dead god Lorkhan: cast there as punishment for his mischief in creating the mortal world. (This passage, of course, was the most difficult part to believe). Apparently, a Dwemer named Kagrenac wanted to use the heart to create a new god for the use and benefit of the Dwemer people.

He created three enchanted tools with this end in mind: the gauntlet 'Wraithguard' that would protect the wearer from destruction when using the other tools on the heart, the hammer 'Sunder' that would be used to 'strike the heart and produce the exact volume of power required', and the blade 'Keening' that would 'flay and focus' that power.

The 'Kagrenac's Tools' paper went on to suggest that the disappearance of the Dwemer was due to Kagrenac using the tools on the heart during the Battle of Red Mountain - and something going horribly wrong, presumably. After the battle, Dagoth Ur and Nerevar found the tools; Nerevar telling his comrade to guard the tools while he went to ask Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil what should be done with them.

While Nerevar was gone, Dagoth Ur was tempted and confused by the power of the tools, and probably (as the paper said) experimented on the heart of Lorkhan with them. He then refused to give up the tools when Nerevar, Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil returned to take them into safe-keeping. From what the essay said, it sounded like the power of the heart had driven Dagoth Ur quite mad. It had also made him immortal, though of course this was not discovered until later.

The confrontation dissolved into a fight, and Dagoth Ur fled, mortally wounded (or so Nerevar and his companions thought), deep into Red Mountain. Nerevar, Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil all swore to protect the tools and never use them themselves - but this pact only lasted until just after Nerevar's death. Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil all gave into temptation just as Dagoth Ur had, and went to Lorkhan's heart to grant themselves divine powers; fashioning themselves into the Tribunal.

The conclusion of the 'Kagrenac's Tools' essay said that even though the Tribunal were more cautious in their use of the tools on the heart - escaping the madness that befell Dagoth Ur - they were still corrupted by the process. The tools were cursed. Stealing power from a dead god was folly, and fated to disaster. The Tribunal were now losing their battle to control the power of the heart. The living gods were only sustained by the same tainted power that drove Dagoth Ur mad.

It went on in this vein for a little longer, before finishing by saying that despite the good things that Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil had done as the Tribunal, they had hidden the truth of their power - and their weakness - from their followers.


Gilvas Barelo tapped this last paragraph with a long forefinger.

"They do this out of shame." He said, sitting down across from me. "They persecute us - the Dissident Priests - out of shame; and there is no doubt: it is the living gods themselves who are persecuting us. They do not want this secret to be revealed - especially in their weakened state."

"I suppose I can understand why you would want this information to come out..." I said slowly, still not entirely convinced that it was all true; "but what I'm wondering is that if this knowledge has always been held by the Temple elite, why is it that it hasn't been released earlier? Surely a secret like this would have come out at some stage."

Barelo looked somewhat pained at this.

"Until recently it has always been the opinion of those 'in the know' that the true source of the Tribunal's power should remain a secret; as Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil have always maintained that they need the faith of the people to empower them in their battle against Dagoth Ur. A lot of people would obviously lose faith if they learned about Kagrenac's Tools." The abbot heaved a great sigh. "Now, however - as it becomes plain that the living gods are losing the fight - we believe that a frank examination of the source of Dagoth Ur's power is needed. Divulging the secret that the Tribunal gain their godly powers from the same source is necessary because the relative strength of each party is directly related to that of the other."

"In other words?" I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. There had been a lot of information to absorb that morning.

"In other words," Barelo said, "as the Tribunal weaken, Dagoth Ur becomes stronger."

I nodded, and added facetiously:

"Ah - alright. Fantastic."


So; Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil had knowledge - intimate knowledge, in fact - of Dagoth Ur's powers. It was then, as Sirilonwe and I prepared to leave Holamayan, that the thought leapt into my mind: who better to speak to about the destruction of a living devil than a living god? Why, Vivec was right there in the holy city that was his namesake, after all. Supposedly so, at least.

After experiencing the horrors that Dagoth Ur was feeding into the land - after seeing the plight of the Dreamers and Corprus sufferers - after suffering from the disease myself - I wanted Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House wiped out. Make no mistake. Still; approaching a being like Vivec - especially if what the Dissident Priests said about him was true - was not something to do on a whim. I needed to consider it carefully first; and perhaps see if another path presented itself.

In the meantime, relaying the lost prophecies to Nibani Maesa would be a simple task, and would no doubt earn the great appreciation of the entire Urshilaku clan. One can never have too many allies.


Nibani was overjoyed; an uncharacteristic broad grin on her face as I delivered the news the following evening that those forgotten prophecies that were so important to the Nerevarine cult were lost no longer. For an hour or more I sat in the wise-woman's yurt, repeating the 'Lost Prophecy' and the 'Seven Curses of the Sharmat' over and over - until she was satisfied that she knew them by heart. Afterwards, she asked me to leave her be for a time, and return once 'the sun had come and gone' (as she put it), so that she could give her judgement.

"Judgement?" I asked, confused.

"Yes;" Nibani replied; "a judgement is what you wanted, isn't it?"

And that was all she would say.


Sirilonwe and I spent most of the rest of the night - and all the sunlit hours of the following day - attending to Mages Guild duties we had been neglecting. Sirilonwe was very keen to hear what the wise-woman had to say; she suffered from incurable curiosity, just like me. It was one of the things I loved about her. So - we returned to the Urshilaku camp as soon as the gathering darkness allowed it. Nibani had had a full day to think about... whatever it was.


"You are the Nerevarine." The wise-woman said, as soon as we entered her yurt. She appeared to be making an effort to contain her excitement. "You shall walk the path of the Seven Visions, and pass the Trials of the Seven Visions. And I shall be your guide. All this I have seen in my dreams."

There was a thrilled tremor in her voice. Her excitement seemed to render her oblivious to the doubt and sarcasm in my voice:

"I see. Your... dreams told you this."

"Yes!" Nibani exclaimed. "This is your path. You shall be the one to destroy Dagoth Ur, and lift his seven curses."

That she mentioned Dagoth Ur was the only reason I did not stand up and leave immediately. The time when I was amused and intrigued by the Nerevarine cult and their prophecies was long past. She promised the end of Dagoth Ur, and that was what kept me with the Urshilaku.

But it was a slender thread.

Chapter 128: Found Prophecy

A problem became apparent when we found Blatta Hateria on the Ebonheart Docks, securing her fishing craft after a day out on the water. After some persuasion, she revealed that the Holamayan monastery was located somewhere along the eastern Azura's Coast, and that depending on weather conditions, even if she left directly after sunset, her boat might not be able to reach it before the sun came up. This may not have been a problem had her boat incorporated a cabin - or a hold - but it was just a simple, open-topped fishing craft; with no protection from the sun.

So it was not really possible - or practical, at least - for Blatta to take us to Holamayan in her boat. With the teleportation network I had helped Folms Mirel establish, we would likely be able to reach the monastery much faster on our own, anyway. We just needed to know where it was.

She was initially reluctant to give us Holamayan's exact location - for obvious reasons, I suppose - but staring into her eyes and baring my fangs slightly persuaded her to change her mind. Not very subtle, perhaps, but effective nonetheless.


With a small island between Sadrith Mora and the great south-eastern Shrine to Azura marked on my well-worn map of Vvardenfell, Sirilonwe and I prepared to depart immediately. There was no reason to wait. Going by the map, the fastest route there appeared to be striking out due south from the Mages Guild in Wolverine Hall at Sadrith Mora, to water-walk across the choppy seas and climb over the shattered islands of Azura's Coast.

We drank our fill from Hunter before leaving: if we really could not enter Holamayan until dawn, then it would likely be a long time before we could feed again.

After hours of running across the waves and climbing to the crests of any hills we could find on the myriad tiny islands to get our bearings, we found Holamayan - on the other side of a large, barren bluff. A single monumental structure of smooth, lipped stone was all that gave away the entrance to the monastery. As we had been told to expect, there was no obvious way in.

According to my pocketwatch, it was halfway past the third hour in the morning - which meant we still had two or three hours to wait until dawn. I had brought the 'Progress of Truth' pamphlet with me, so I sat on the damp, sloped ground to read through it again while we waited. Sirilonwe had brought along one of her history books that dealt with the Tribunal Temple, to see if she might discover anything potentially illuminating about the religion's past.

For a while we were content to sit there and read by the light of the stars, but by the time dawn approached, we were both feeling very uneasy. We could smell the sunrise: the warming light upon the lands to the east, carried faintly on the winds over the Sea of Ghosts. If the monastery entrance did not make itself known soon, we would have to teleport home and re-think things. A tent, perhaps; of very thick and sturdy material? We could pitch the tent outside the entrance and wait until we could get in...

Nothing so extravagant was necessary, though. The sky was turning from indigo to blue, and the burning sun was peeking out over the bluff to the east, when one of the stone lips in the monumental structure lifted up like a great eyelid, with a deep, grumbling, grating sound. A smaller, more regular door leading into the hill was revealed behind it, and we dashed inside, feeling as if we had had scalding water poured over us.


The interior was not unlike that of the average Temple building: sparsely furnished and utilitarian. In the dim candle-light, I abruptly realised that we were facing a semi-circle of triolithic shrines dedicated to the saints and gods of the Tribunal. I recoiled, expecting to be somehow burned or harmed by them, as in the High Fane... but nothing happened. They had no effect on me. Perhaps Vivec and the other Tribunal gods really had forsaken the Dissident Priests over their schism, and did not lend their power to the shrines in the monastery.

A monk, wearing the sort of suspicious expression I had grown accustomed to, directed us to Mehra Milo. She was in the Holamayan library - a small chamber lined with religious texts - engaged in conversation with another Dunmer; a wizened old man in robes.

"Who is that?" Mehra demanded without preamble, her copper eyes fixed on Sirilonwe.

"This is Sirilonwe, my partner." I replied. "Sirilonwe, this is Mehra Milo."

Sirilonwe did not offer her hand in greeting - to Mehra's relief, I'm sure. Not many mortals enjoy being in close proximity to a vampire.

Introductions aside, Mehra thanked me again for aiding her escape from the Ministry of Truth, and deferred my questions about the lost prophecies to the wizened old Dunmer - Master Gilvas Barelo, the abbot of Holamayan.

"Sera Milo tells me that you are the one who freed her from the Ordinators, vampire." Barelo said, in a voice like gravel being ground underfoot. "For that, I have trusted you to enter the monastery. Nevertheless, I would ask you to leave as soon as our business is complete." He paused. "Well, once the sun has set. The door will not open until dusk, in any case... You understand my position, I'm sure?"

I nodded, though not in a friendly fashion.

"We can teleport away sooner than that... assuming our business is complete."

Barelo gave the slightest of bows and gestured that we should follow him as he paced slowly around the cramped underground monastery.

"Now, Sera Milo also tells me that you are here for the 'lost' prophecies of the Nerevarine." The old abbot remarked. "Well, we certainly have those. In point of fact, I believe we have almost finished transcribing them." He nodded his head in the direction of a small group of monks bent over a long desk, their quills racing across their sheets of paper. "They are considered part of the 'Apographa': the hidden, censored writings of the Temple. One of the main reasons we are here, you know. We do not believe that the Temple should censor parts of the Dunmer faith... especially when it is obvious that it is only done to suit the interests of the priests in the upper-hierarchy." He shot a sideways glance at me. "But we can talk more about the prophecies - and the other documents we have prepared for you - once they are ready. In the meantime, are there any other questions I can answer for you?"

Quite apart from my general curiosity into the Nerevarine prophecies, the only thing I was genuinely interested in was Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House.

"Dagoth Ur." Barelo growled. "He is an old enemy - and for a very long time, the power the Tribunal poured into the Ghostfence was enough to contain him and his Blight. The Sixth House, though - his army - they are a new threat, and the strain is showing on the livings gods." The abbot looked directly into my eyes. "It is obvious to see - I think you will agree - that the Tribunal is weakening. The Ghostfence does not keep the Blight confined to Red Mountain any longer - nor does it prevent Dagoth Ur's Sixth House minions from entering the settled lands. They try to lay blame on the people for wavering in their faith - and on us, the Dissident Priests, for splintering that faith into 'heresy'. We do not believe it is that at all: the Tribunal's powers are diminishing for some other reason, and we have a theory as to why... but there is a paper I want to show you first; on Kagrenac's Tools."

"Yes," I spoke up, "they are mentioned in the 'Progress of Truth'. I was wondering what exactly-"

But I was cut off as Barelo was handed a stack of freshly-written papers, their ink just dry.

"Ah, here;" he said, passing them on to me; "these should be the prophecies your... friend, Nibani Maesa, has been looking for - along with some notes we have made on possible interpretations."

He indicated that I should sit, and read. My curiosity got the better of me, and I did just that. The 'Lost Prophecy' (that was what they actually called it) went like this:


'From seventh sign of eleventh generation,
Neither Hound nor Guar, nor Seed nor Harrow,
But Dragon-born and far-star-marked,
Outlander Incarnate beneath Red Mountain,
Blessed Guest counters seven curses,
Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade,
To reap the harvest of the unmourned house.'


Cryptic as always. The annotations added by the Dissident Priests went some way to explaining what the prophecy might have been referring to, though. I place an emphasis on 'might', as I believed that the passage was so vague as to possibly mean many different things. In summary, the priests said that according to the Lost Prophecy, the Nerevarine would be an 'outlander' - and probably from the Imperial Province, no less. They also said that he - or she - would be blessed by Azura, and would go to Red Mountain to confront Dagoth Ur and his seven 'ash-vampire' kin.

The other prophecy they had that had been considered lost by the Ashlanders was the one Nibani had mentioned specifically; the 'Seven Curses of the Sharmat' - and it was little better:


'Through the doors of the unmourned house
Where scoffers scoff and schemers scheme
From the halls of the oath-breaking house
Rings seven curses of gods blasphemed

First curse, Curse-of-Fire
Second curse, Curse-of-Ash
Third curse, Curse-of-Flesh
Fourth curse, Curse-of-Ghosts
Fifth curse, Curse-of-Seed
Sixth curse, Curse-of-Despair
Seventh curse, Curse-of-Dreams'


Here, the Dissident Priests said that according to the first few lines, the prophecy was about House Dwemer, or House Dagoth (also called the Sixth House) - or both; and that it referred to their blasphemy against the gods - any gods. The Curses of Fire, Ash, and Flesh referred to the Blight-storms Dagoth Ur sent from Red Mountain, and the Curse-of-Dreams referred to the Dreamers and Sleepers in the settlements. As to the Curses of Ghosts, Seed and Despair, the priests had no idea - and I could not blame them.


Interesting, certainly, but I was thinking about the other prophecy more at that moment. Much to my chagrin, the 'Lost Prophecy' only seemed to further implicate me as a potential candidate for the role of the Nerevarine - to someone who was inclined to believe in such things, at least. The section that specified the Nerevarine as being an 'outlander' was a particularly telling point. Though my strong feelings were possibly a source of puzzlement to Barelo - who (I think) did not know about my much-alleged birthright - I could not help but exclaim in frustration:

"Even if all these prophecies support one particular theory, there is no way to know if any of them are recorded now as they were told originally. There is no way to know if they were even genuine - or true - to begin with! To have even a chance of being sure of any of this, one would need to speak with someone who was alive at the time!"

"Such as Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil, perhaps?" Barelo murmured.

As much as it may have pained me to admit it, the abbot had a point. Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil were all first-hand witnesses to many of the things referred to in the prophecies, and were surely consulted on their accuracy, to guard against them being slurred and corrupted by time. So maybe the prophecies and histories were accurate... assuming that the Tribunal gods were telling the truth about them.

It seemed that the only absolutely reliable source of information about Dagoth Ur's origins was the Tribunal themselves.

It was something to keep in mind, I thought; especially considering what I learned next about the power shared by both the living gods and by the devil, Dagoth Ur.

Chapter 127: Keeping a secret

"You might try thinking of it this way;" I told the vampire hunter; "in your mind, you wanted to stop us from feeding on people, correct?" When the Dunmer woman did nothing but continue to glare at me sullenly, I went on: "Well - this way, we won't need to hunt anymore: not while we have your blood. So... it seems you will get your wish."

Still our attacker said nothing; merely standing there stiffly in the robe Sirilonwe and I had given her after stripping her of her weapons, armour, and equipment. We had used our healing magic to counter her blood-loss, too, of course. She was no use to us dead.

"What is your name, Dunmer?" Sirilonwe asked her.

"Your death, fiend." Was all she said.

She never did tell us her name. In the end, I came to always call her simply 'Hunter'.


It soon became apparent that as far as plans went, keeping Hunter as 'cattle' was rife with complications. A few minutes after we overcame the vampire hunter, Rhek'feer - the Khajiiti martial arts trainer and unofficial captain of my guardsmen at the castle - was hammering at my chamber door. My attention was not on what Rhek'feer was shouting, but on Hunter, for she had opened her mouth in a deep breath and looked to be about to call out for help.

I dashed across and rendered her unconscious with my Sleep spell - fortunately before she could make a sound. Demonstrating her knack for quick-thinking, Sirilonwe pointed at the prone form of the Dunmer woman, and she vanished beneath an invisibility spell. I unbolted the door and let Rhek'feer in.

"One of the men stationed on the battlements was found knocked-out cold, Mister Frost!" He exclaimed. "An intruder, maybe! Has Mister Frost seen anything?"

My mind was racing. If I said no, then Rhek'feer would likely order the guards to search the entire keep and castle grounds for an intruder; something I did not want if I was trying to conceal the existence of Hunter.

"Yes," I replied, "someone came in through the window and attacked us." That was that, but what to say next? That our attacker escaped?

Sirilonwe again came to my aid:

"And I incinerated him." She said.

Rhek'feer appeared surprised, and glanced around the room - obviously looking for some kind of remains.

"As I said," Sirilonwe went on; "I incinerated him."

After only a moment's hesitation, my captain of the guard was satisfied by our explanation, but it was obvious that we needed to do something about Hunter quickly if we wanted to keep her secret from the castle staff.


At sunset, when everyone was either having their evening meal in the dining room or on duty on the castle grounds, we smuggled the invisible and magically silenced vampire hunter downstairs to the underground passages beneath the keep. We accomplished this by Sirilonwe also going invisible, and keeping a tight hold on Hunter as I went on ahead and opened doors for them so that the invisibility spells would not be disrupted. On the way, I hid the Dunmer's armour, weapons and equipment in the secret vault.

It all worked perfectly; we arrived next to a certain secret door down there without incident.

I pointed to the back corner of the concealed tomb underneath Wolfen Keep - the chamber in which I had disturbed the Wolfen castle Guardian and found the Wolfen ring several months earlier - indicating that Hunter should enter. She made no move to comply, so I grasped her by the neck and carried her bodily into the tomb. It was to be her holding cell from that point on. The skeletal corpse of the late Master Wolfen (the previous owner of the castle) was still there on a stone slab. I had discovered that - strangely - the skeleton could not be moved from its place in the tomb; it was as if it was stuck fast to that stone slab. I suppose that Master Wolfen - whoever he had been - really did want to stay in his castle forever.

It was obvious that Hunter relied heavily on magic to carry out her... mission in life: levitation magic to reach the chamber window she had used to enter the keep, spells to let her move as fast as a vampire, her enchanted weapons and armour... So if we were to keep her, we needed a way to prevent her escaping through magical means.


I remembered the slaves I had freed (back on my second day on Vvardenfell) from the smuggler's cave just outside Seyda Neen. They had been restrained by 'slave bracers'; enchanted manacles that drained the wearer's magicka reserves to naught - effectively preventing him or her from casting spells. One - or even a pair - of those was just what we needed.

I would run across to the smuggler-cave to fetch the bracers (if they were still there), and Sirilonwe would stay behind to watch over Hunter - while at the same time consulting her books to find a way to create the spells and enchantments we would need to keep our 'guest' safely - and secretly - locked away. Firstly we needed a variation of a permanent Silence spell on the chamber; one that would (in simple terms) mean that someone on one side of the door to the concealed tomb could not hear anything that took place on the other side. That way, if Hunter decided to call for help, no-one would hear her.

We also needed a strong Locking spell for the secret door - and decided that it should be made to last for a week after being cast (unless Sirilonwe or I dispelled it first, of course). It was our intention to stock Hunter's cell with enough food and water to last for over a week; and with a spell like that on the door, she would not starve to death in the event that we were (for whatever reason) unable to return to the castle for some time.

Of course, if this were to happen and the door were to simply unlock... well, having an angry vampire hunter let loose in the castle could be quite bad for us. Sirilonwe had the idea of incorporating a contingency into the spell: so that if a week passed and the door did unlock, Hunter would - if she touched the door - be teleported far away; to somewhere on the mainland, probably. It would then be difficult for her to return to Wolfen castle - at least straight away. And if she did come back, then at least she would be on the outside of the castle-defences, rather than inside the keep.

It all sounded very complicated to me. I was glad Sirilonwe was taking on the challenge, while I had the simple task of locating a slave bracer or two.


And it was very simple, in the end. In the smuggler's cave, the bracers were still lying exactly where Baadargo and his fellow slaves had discarded them; barely even touched by mud or dust. The key to the bracers was still with them too: although I suppose this is not as surprising as one might think. Even if the caves had been well-scoured for valuables in the time since I had last been there, only a few 'sorts' were interested in things like slave bracers.

I picked up a pair of the bracers, plus the key, and returned home.


Once the bracers were safely snapped onto Hunter's wrists, I set about gathering up enough food from the kitchen to last her a week. The castle-cook Ancois might wonder what I had done with all the kitchen-stores, but I doubted she would question me seriously over it; I was the one who paid for the food, after all. After carrying in a great barrel of fresh water, plus another of (much easier to obtain) sea-water, accompanied by some soap and a sponge so that Hunter might keep herself clean, I scrounged together a small stack of books for her to read during her days of confinement. A straw mattress and some blankets were also needed.

All this may seem somewhat extravagant for a prisoner, but understand that keeping this woman as 'cattle' did not make me feel like a good person. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Sirilonwe and I both thought that keeping her there was the best (and safest) course of action we could take: save for resorting to the sort of vicious behaviour Hunter obviously thought we were prone to, and killing her outright. Still, keeping her prisoner was unpleasant for me; and I'm sure I was compensating for that.

As it turned out, I did not escape the difficult task of working on the spells and enchantments we required for Hunter's cell after all. Once my own tasks were all complete, Sirilonwe enlisted my help in searching through her books on magic research and creation. We stayed in for the rest of the night, and for all of the next day; Hunter's presence of course meaning that we did not need to go out to hunt.

By the following evening, it was done. Both Hunter and our new, relatively safe source of blood were secured.


I was now burning with curiosity about those 'lost prophecies of the Nerevarine' - and about the Dissident Priests, with their secret monastery. Did they really believe that the three living gods of the Tribunal were no more than powerful sorcerers, their power gained from some mysterious, profane source inside Red Mountain? Moreover, did they have any proof?

The 'Progress of Truth' pamphlet I had - a manifesto of sorts for the Dissident Priests - said the Tribunal had used 'profanely enchanted tools' to achieve god-like status, and that these tools were originally made by a Dwemer sorcerer named Kagrenac, in order to 'create the False Construct Numidium'. I had no idea what that last part meant - and I did want to find out - but what really piqued my interest was the section of the pamphlet that compared Dagoth Ur - and his powers - to the Tribunal. As I have made clear, I wanted to destroy the Sixth House and Dagoth Ur... but was it even possible, if he had the powers of a god?

It was time to travel to the Holamayan monastery, and (perhaps) find out.

Chapter 126: Intruder

The distress note that Mehra Milo had left for me (or for Caius, I suppose) was cleverly worded so as to not appear as a distress note, but her request was plain enough. She was being held in the Ministry of Truth - the prison and 're-education centre for the correction of heretics' run by the Temple Ordinators - and wanted me to bring her a couple of Divine Intervention spell-scrolls so that she could escape.

I have mentioned before the awe-inspiring 'moon' called Baar Dau: the gigantic rock that hovered magically (or by divine providence, some would say) above the High Fane. It was perhaps indicative of the... 'intestinal fortitude' of the Ordinators that they had established the Ministry of Truth inside that massive floating boulder. Or perhaps it was indicative of their faith: for it was the powers of the man-god Vivec that held Baar Dau low in the sky above the Fane; or so it was said.


In any case, it was into Baar Dau that I had to go: though not without some resistance from Sirilonwe.

"I wouldn't go if I thought it was dangerous." I told her, in my best cajoling voice. "They won't even see me. I can become invisible, after all."

"As long as you don't touch anything!" Sirilonwe argued. "I am sure you know how easily those spells are disrupted."

"And if they do see me," I continued, "I can Charm or paralyse them."

"Unless they have protection against magic, or they surround you!" She countered.

"And," I went on, "if all else fails, I can teleport away."

"Unless they have wards in place! Edward, is this woman - and this information she has - really so important that you would risk yourself like this?"

I grunted in frustration, and replied:

"Look, as I said, they won't even see me... and if they somehow do, I won't be caught. Do you remember me telling you about my childhood? I was a thief for a long, long time; I know what I'm doing. And if I can sneak into the lair of the Quarra vampires, then I can manage a few Ordinators..." I glanced at the distress note again. "Besides, this guard at the entrance - Alvela Saram; it sounds like she's on Mehra's side. It says here that she'll let me in. Maybe I'll be able to simply walk in and give Mehra the spell-scrolls."

I attempted a rakish grin, but Sirilonwe was not amused, and still not keen on my plan: not at all. She did give up trying to dissuade me, though; at least.


A while later - near midnight - we arrived outside the High Fane. We had returned to the castle briefly to don our armour: just in case something went wrong, as Sirilonwe seemed convinced it would. I had considered going in without armour, in the interest of making less noise - but the blackened Shadow Lord armour was cunningly constructed to as to make a minimum of noise when worn. While in the keep, I had also picked up the Divine Intervention spell-scrolls Mehra had requested: lifting them from Yanika's stores, and leaving enough coins behind to cover their worth.

It was near midnight by the time we returned to the High Fane, because we had water-walked, invisible, across the bay from Wolfen castle to the southern tip of Vivec: aiming to avoid being spotted at all on our approach. Using an Almsivi Intervention spell to just appear outside the High Fane was no good: Ordinators patrolled that area night and day.

Sirilonwe was going to wait outside (which suited her perfectly, in her current mood), perched out-of-sight atop the crest of the very tall High Fane building. From there she would have a perfect view of the spectacular floating 'moon', Baar Dau. As vampires, I could yell loud enough - and her hearing was acute enough - that even if I was deep within the Ministry of Truth, she would be able to hear me calling for help, and come in after me.


Alvela Saram's hand was on her sword the instant my feet touched the wooden platform that ringed the great, floating stone; but before she could draw, I said:

"My name is Amaya... Well, not really, but the name should mean something to you, yes?"

Alvela, a Dunmer woman in Ordinator's armour (sans the golden, masked helmet Ordinators usually wore), peered at my glowing eyes: the only part of me that was visible. I was wearing my Adamantium helmet, and had the attached Netch-leather scarf wrapped around my face to (hopefully) preserve my anonymity.

"So you're the one..." she said. "In Almsivi's name, I thought Mehra was joking when she told me you were a vampire! Al-alright, listen -" she began, tossing me a small key - "that's the key to the outer doors. I'll say you subdued me with magic, and took it."

"You will say that you don't know who I am, and that you didn't see my face, I trust?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

She cocked her head to one side.

"Well, I don't know who you are - and I can't see your face, so..." She shrugged lightly. "At any rate, Mehra is in the Prison Keep - the largest chamber in the Ministry - in the rightmost cell. Finally, and this is important; some of the Ordinators here are sympathetic to the Dissident Priests, but if anyone sees you - a vampire - in there... they would attack you. And remember, this is a huge trust we're placing in you: if you hurt anyone..." Alvela shook her head seriously. "So don't harm anyone, and don't be seen. Alright? Now, go - quickly."

Alvela directed me to what she said would be the best point of entry: the door around the other side of the huge boulder. I pulled it open a crack to peer inside, and when I was sure no-one would see, slipped inside.


The Ministry seemed much bigger on the inside, and was frustratingly mazelike. For what seemed like nearly half an hour, I crept through the winding, carved stone corridors, renewing and reinforcing my invisibility spell whenever no-one was looking (I became momentarily visible whenever I did this). I lost count of the number of times I had to freeze, pressed up against the wall, as an Ordinator strolled by on his or her patrol. I must say, though; not needing to breathe certainly had its advantages: I could be dead-silent when I needed to be (if you will pardon the pun).

Eventually, I found the door to the Prison Keep, a large cavern with a complicated mess of stalls, wooden dividers, and decking cluttering the floor. At the far side, I could see a row of sturdy-looking doors, set into the stone wall. They had to be the cells.


The stalls and wooden dividers provided good cover, and I made it across to the cell doors without incident. However, at the very moment my invisibility was disrupted by the spell I used to unlock Mehra's cell, an Ordinator on a raised platform looked down - and saw me.

"Stop, filthy s'wit!" He bellowed, as I threw the door open and dashed inside.

Inside the cell, a small chamber carved from the rock, a Dunmer woman with copper hair and copper eyes leapt from her cot.

"What? Who are you?" Mehra Milo asked, obviously startled, as I slammed the door behind me.

"I'm Amaya." I replied impatiently, locking the cell door with another spell.

"By Almsivi..." Mehra breathed, staring at my vampiric eyes; "so it's true..."

I tossed her the rolled-up Divine Intervention spell-scrolls, saying:

"There's no time: they saw me. If you use one of those now, I can follow you-"

But the priestess shook her head, interrupting me:

"No, we should separate. Listen quickly. We'll meet at the Dissident Priests' secret monastery, Holamayan. Look for a woman named Blatta Hateria on the East Docks at Ebonheart. Tell her I sent you, and that you want to go fishing."

A pounding at the door made her redouble her already feverish pace:

"She'll take you there; but beware, vampire: the monastery can only be accessed at dawn and dusk. Prepare accordingly."

I turned as the cell door flew open, a pack of furious Ordinators on the other side. My leather scarf still hid my face, and I think it was too dark for them to see my eyes; save for the light that glowed within them, of course. They surely knew that I was a vampire. There was a -crack- behind me as Mehra teleported away - and before the Ordinators could take another step, I followed her example.

However, I cast Almsivi Intervention and appeared outside the High Fane. I needed to collect Sirilonwe from the crest of the temple, before the Ordinators began a search of the Ministry and its surrounds for any suspicious individuals.


We made it home safely, and I had to assume that Priestess Mehra escaped too. We had to hunt and feed before the night was over, but were indoors well before the sun rose.

Travelling by boat to this intriguing secret monastery would require some careful planning and consideration if we wanted to avoid being roasted by the sun. Making things more complicated was the need to arrange things so that we would arrive during the night sometime; enabling us to wait until dawn so that we could actually get into the monastery. We could not rush into it, in any case. The plan was to find this Blatta Hateria the following evening, and find out more from her about what it would take to reach Holamayan.

Neither Sirilonwe or I had many duties to attend to that day, so in the early afternoon we retired to bed in Wolfen Keep, to sleep until the night came. This turned out to be just the opportunity one particularly dangerous individual was waiting for.

I woke at the brash clanging of a bell, and started horribly when I realised what it meant. Sirilonwe and I had fastened bells to all the doors and window shutters leading into my chambers, in case someone tried to enter without our knowledge or blessing. It saved us, on this occasion. Sunlight streamed onto the foot of the bed. Silhouetted in an open window was a figure in shining plate armour.

"Die, vampires! Fiends!" A female voice shouted, as the armoured figure darted across the room, towards the bed. She was very fast, even in full plate armour. I suspected she had any number of spells coursing through her body to grant her such speed: speed that rivalled our own. That, and the fact that she had yelled "die, vampires" made me certain that she was a vampire hunter.


Since I had been rudely awakened, I did not have my armour or weapons: I was stark nude, in fact. I did, however, have my magic. I leapt out of bed, and immediately made myself invisible. Sirilonwe had the same idea, and vanished too. I dashed around behind the armoured figure, to slam the shutters closed and keep out the burning sunlight - at the same time distracting our attacker, so that Sirilonwe could sneak up behind her.

It worked - after a fashion; she tried what was obviously a Sleep spell, only rather than the vampire hunter falling to the floor, there was a flash - and instead Sirilonwe was staggering back, looking groggy.

"The armour's enchanted... reflection..." she mumbled, before disappearing beneath an invisibility spell again.

No offensive magic, then. It would only reflect back on me; to potentially disastrous effect. Magic that acted upon me, though; that could work. I made myself invisible again.

"Hold on." I whispered, low enough that only Sirilonwe could hear me. "I'll try something."

While the armoured figure's attention was turned away from me - scanning the room to find Sirilonwe - I snatched up my Daedric katana from the top of my dresser, and struck the vampire hunter as hard as I could across the back of her head; with the flat of the blade.

The helmet flew off as the hunter pitched forward, onto the floor, revealing her to be a dark-haired Dunmer. At the moment she lost her footing, it was over for our attacker. I pounced on her and held her down, sinking my fangs into her neck. She struggled valiantly, even managing to rise to her feet with me still latched onto her back, draining her. Soon though, she had simply lost too much blood, and collapsed to the floor under the weight of her plate armour; too weak to move, and barely conscious.

"She's a vampire hunter, isn't she?" Sirilonwe said as she reappeared, blinking away the effects of her own Sleep spell, and stood over our fallen attacker.

I nodded; speechless at how rich the Dunmer's blood had been. She was very fit - and healthy.

"We cannot just let her go;" Sirilonwe was saying; "She would only come back and try to kill us again; and... I do not want to kill her like this." She paused. "You know... I can't help but think of those mortals you told me about, at Ashmelech: what did they call them? Cattle?"

She licked her lips absently, and asked, eyes on the armoured figure:

"Can we keep her, do you think?"

I looked down at the Dunmer woman, weakly pressing her hand against the wound on her neck, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Yes;" I said; "I think we can."