Whither Now, O Adventurer?

Loredas, 3rd Frostfell

I expected the shipwreck to be devoid of anything of value, long since picked clean, but once Lydia and I reached the wreck we discovered that it contained not only an infestation of mudcrabs, but also several chests and compartments that were locked and still held things of value.  We roamed about its damp, dark, foul-smelling confines for a little while, walking awkwardly because it was listing sharply to one side.  When I had satisfied myself that we had found everything worth keeping or exchanging for a few septims, we left the wreck and returned to the beach.

I noticed several standing stones on one of the sand bars just offshore.  My curiosity led me to wade across to investigate.  The tiny patch of dry land proved to hold not only the ancient stones but some valuable ore and a pair of horkers.  Prior to that time I hadn't yet encountered any of the huge, amphibious beasts.  As the creatures were blocking access to the standing stones, and their meat and tusks hold some small value, Lydia and I slew them and stripped their corpses.  Disappointingly the stones had nothing of interest, no carvings or offerings nor anything to explain their original purpose.

Looking across at another islet, I observed several more horkers resting at the water's edge and decided that we could do with more horker meat.  We slew four more of the beasts and found yet more useful ore, as well as a good quantity of the spiky grass that grows on the beach, which has alchemical properties.  The shore beyond Dawnstar has great quantities of this grass.  I also found several of the mysterious singing nirnroots, and soon became rather preoccupied with exploring tiny islets for nirnroots and grass pods.  Darkness had fallen by that time, but the snow reflected so much of the moonlight that it wasn't difficult to see, and the glow of the nirnroots was easy to detect even before I could hear their curious hum.

Wading back to the shore after a time, I gathered some slaughterfish eggs from a shallow pool, then found myself facing a barrow or crypt.  I decided that I would not trouble to explore it at that time and we continued to wend out way along the shore as the sun gradually rose to light our way.  By the time it was fully light we had left behind the ocean beach without realizing it, and had entered a marshy area that I recognized we had visited once before, while questing for the horn of Jurgen Windcaller at the behest of the Graybeards.  I had heard that a powerful vampire laired in that area, and had even stumbled upon a cavern I suspected might be his lair during our first visit to the marsh, but as before I determined that I was not prepared to face a vampire.  

We also stumbled upon a small shack in the marsh, which at first appeared to be abandoned, its door disturbingly splattered with gore.  But the door was locked and I could only conclude that someone must be using it as a hunting lodge, which would account for the bloodstains.  Lydia and I passed on and I continued to gather more of the fungus pods that grew everywhere in the marsh.  

After a time our wanderings led us to the small town of Morthal, which is no bigger than Riverwood.  The town lacks a trader's establishment or smithy, but boasts a small shop selling potions and alchemical ingredients, which its proprietor rather pompously calls a thaumaturgist's shop.  Everyone in Morthal appeared to be concerned about the recent arrival of a wizard who had chosen to settle there, the Nords in the countryside generally being ill-disposed toward magic.  It also seemed that everyone wanted to tell me about a house that had lately burned.  I suppose that any change in routine must be of interest in such a small town, and there must be little else to talk about other than the civil war.  But I have no interest in such matters and paid them no attention.

By the time we reached Morthal I had accumulated a great quantity of objects and both Lydia and I were carrying heavy burdens.  As Morthal had no trader to purchase such things, we decided to make our way back home to Whiterun and visit our friends there.  It was a relief to get back to the familiar - and warmer - environs of that hold, to speak with familiar folk, and to sleep in my own bed.  I spent some time brewing a large quantity of potions from all the ingredients I had acquired, sold a great many things to Berethor and to Elrindir at the Drunken Huntsman, and visited Ferengar the wizard at Dragonsreach to borrow the use of his enchanting table for a little while.  

When I had satisfied my desire to perform such mundane activities and was ready to once again seek adventure in the wilds of Skyrim, I determined that it was now time for me to face the hagravens of Lost Valley Redoubt.  Lydia and I made our way back to that lofty place and found that little had changed even though it had been some while since our last visit.  We found two hagravens performing some unspeakable ritual with one of their Forsworn followers.  My dragon shout of unrelenting force sent them all tumbling like dice, but they swiftly regained their feet.  It was a hard fight, and had it not been for my loyal housecarl and the potions I had made for myself, I might have ended my life there beside the hagravens' altar.  

The fight was made more difficult by the presence of a draconic word of power on the wall just behind that altar, for I found it difficult to concentrate on the battle while it kept calling to my blood. But in the end Lydia and I triumphed and I learned the word of power.  

Once we had swallowed a few potions and recovered from our many wounds, I wanted to explore the surrounding area.  We came upon a half-ruined tower not far from the altar, which proved to hold a third hagraven.  Thank Akatosh, one hagraven alone is not quite so difficult to slay as two of them together.  But the filthy thing tainted me with disease, and I was glad I had had the forethought to bring a potion of disease-curing.  

Once we had rid the place of the hagravens entirely, I decided that eliminating a few bandits and claiming a bounty would be our next goal.  The bandit lair we sought lay to the north of Rorikstead, so we returned to that familiar hamlet to spend a night.  

The next morning we had hardly stepped out onto the road before a dragon came swooping down on the village again.  This didn't surprise me, as I had already noted the presence of several mounds nearby.  I am only relieved that I was there to fight it when this second dragon arrived.  This dragon proved more difficult to battle than the one that had previously menaced Rorikstead, for it refused to alight on the ground and kept hovering just out of reach of my spells while it blasted me with its fiery breath.  But in the end it landed and I was able to take its life and claim its soul.