InsaneJournal

As promised, the Dragonborn returned to Darkwater Crossing with Lydia. Crossing the bridge to the small hamlet, he spotted a dragon flying around in the distance. It was too far away to pay the small village any mind, so for now he wasn't that worried about it. The whispers in his head told him again that another Word Wall was near. Perhaps on their way back, they'd pay the creature a visit.

Seeing a familiar crown of reddish-brown hair, the Dragonborn recognized Annekke and flagged her down.

"You're back! How was your journey?" she greeted, walking up to him with a smile. Verner followed in, close behind.

"Now that business is done for now, I can tell you. I reckon you figured it out already, but I had to go meet with the Greybeards. I was the one they called for."

"Shor's bones, I thought that much," Annekke replied, twisting an old, dusty rag in her hands before slinging it over her shoulder. "What did they have to say?"

"It was a relatively quick meeting, honestly," he shrugged. "They wanted to see me use my Voice in person, taught me a few things, gave me another errand to run but that one isn't of any real urgency to them. They told me to spend time doing what I can around Skyrim. Get experience, do some work, get familiar with the place. Only one of them really talked to me, at all. That was Master Arngeir."

"Ah yes, the Voice," Annekke said. "They say someone strong in the Voice could kill you with a whisper, and those monks have been studying it for decades."

"How are the people down in the mine? You said Sondas had something for me to take to Windhelm?"

"They're doing fine, thank you. Ah yes, that note. He's in the mine, but I have another favor to ask, if you don't mind..."

"Go on, I'm listening," he encouraged, shifting on his feet.

"It's Derkeethus... He's an Argonian that lives here. We haven't seen him in days, and I'm worried. We all are. I think he's in trouble, but I can't leave the mine. There's so much work to do, here."

"Do you know where he was last seen?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "I don't mind going out to find him."

She nodded. "Sondas said he was around the falls, trying to find some fish."

"I see... Well, I'm going to go talk to Sondas," he stated. "Once Lydia and I return from the city, I'll go look for Derkeethus and see if I can't bring him back."

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Annekke said. She and Verner went into their tiny house, closing the door behind them. Tormir and Hrefna were crouched down by the fire, keeping warm.

Inside the mine, Andrel found Sondas. He was chipping away at some corundum, and the air was thick with an unpleasant-smelling dust. "Hello, Annekke said you needed a note delivered?"

The Dunmer stopped his work to turn and face Andrel and Lydia, squinting. His skin was a darkish blue-grey color, and his black beard was fastened in a tie. His eyes, a tilted scarlet. "Oh yeah..." He started to dig in his pocket, where his fingers crumpled a piece of parchment, which he pulled out and offered to Andrel. "We're getting to the point where the tunnels are getting deep into the rock. People complain of bad coughs and foul air. I've seen this before. We need some medicines to combat the ore dust."

"And this is going to Windhelm?" he asked, taking the note and slipping it into his pocket.

"Yeah, take it to The White Phial. The owner of that store, Nurelion, he's an old friend of mine," the Dunmer explained. "But he's not so good in health right now, he's getting old. So Quintus would be best to speak with."

"Of course. And also... What can you tell me about Derkeethus?" Andrel asked. "Annekke said he was missing."

"That bloody Argonian..." Sondas sighed. "Derk is a good worker, and he's nice. Never had any problem with 'im. He said he was going to go look for a good fishin' spot, but I haven't seen him in days and nobody's had the time to go look. I think he was taken."

"And do you have any idea by who?"

"I think it's more a 'what' than a 'who'," the Dunmer replied, leaning against the wooden frame. His arms crossed and he coughed, covering his mouth with his hand. "Sorry. There's been some sounds comin' from Darkwater Pass. Don't know what it is, but I'd start there. Be careful, you don't know what you might find."

"I told Annekke as soon as we're back with the medicine from Windhelm, we'd go look for your friend," he reassured Sondas.

"May Azura light your path," Sondas replied.

"Thank you, Sondas. We'll try to bring him home, safe."

He and Lydia left the mine and he looked off over the geothermal terrain that surrounded Darkwater. There was a faint tinge of sulfur in the air, and he scrunched his nose. Turning to Lydia, he gestured towards the bridge and they began their way back to the crossroads.

The fort, even with its potential of a dangerous scrap, was a welcome sign that they were getting closer to Windhelm. "And there's the sign again," he commented.

"All we have to do now is follow the signs to Windhelm," Lydia replied.

"Thanks again for coming with me," he told her, peering back over his shoulder to look at his housecarl. "That frost troll was a vicious bastard."

"I'm sure you would have handled it just fine. Plus, you know healing spells. I just hope the Divines give you enough time to heal yourself if you're ever caught in a bad fight."

"Hopefully," he replied. As they went down the pathway, he spotted a small village with a sawmill built next to the river. A large tree trunk was laying on the side of the road, and some mushrooms had made it their home, which he then collected into his pack. Past the mill, he started to notice a curious red vine growing on the ground, and knelt down to check it out.

"This must be creep cluster," he stated, snatching some of the plant and stuffing it into his pack with the rest of his things. "My mother's an alchemist down in Bruma. She used to get shipments in before the war started, and showed me what some of the plants were."

"At least you have that. You could probably alchemically map out all of Skyrim, if you keep this up," she laughed.

He gave a complacent smile. "You think so? I have been noticing some regional patterns with these plants. Or maybe I could write a book about it. The Alchemical Atlas. Has a nice ring to it, I think."

As Lydia looked up, she could spot the stone fortress in the distance. "That's Windhelm, there. You can almost see the Palace of the Kings."

As they continued down the path, things started to become a lot colder and snowier. By the time they reached Windhelm's stable, it was like a snowstorm. Once they were inside the doors, the wind lessened so the snow fell, instead of being flung around in the air. Looking to his right, he saw a small marketplace down an open corridor and lead Lydia over. "Come on."

"Right behind you."

A man was busy chopping wood off to the side. As they entered, there was a small blacksmith shop, but the White Phial was over by the marketstalls. The inside was pleasant and warm, and the man he assumed to be Quintus was arguing with Nurelion. Once they'd spotted him, they came to a stop.

"Quintus, take care of the customers. I'm going upstairs to lay down." the Altmer ordered.

"Yes, Master," Quintus replied. He turned to Andrel and Lydia, leaning on the counter. "Welcome to The White Phial, friends. I'm sorry about that, is there something I can help you with?"

Pulling the note out of his pocket, he handed it to Quintus. "I have a delivery from Sondas in Darkwater."

Quintus peered over the crumpled parchment and frowned. "Oh dear... The Darkwater Crossing needs medicines for its miners? I'll see about getting this order filled right away." He pulled a pouch from below the counter and presented it to Andrel. "Here, some Septims for you."

The coinpurse was heavy. He wasn't sure how much gold was in there, but it was a lot. He handed it off to Lydia for safekeeping, and bowed his head at Quintus. "Thank you. They wanted to come but there's a lot going on, there."

"I'm glad you brought this. Tell Sondas we'll have a shipment out in a few days," Quintus replied.

"I will. Divines bless you."

He and Lydia stepped back out into the cold and made their way to the city's center again. He didn't want to go into the Palace of the Kings, right now, but taking a short break before going to Darkwater Crossing again would be nice. Stepping inside the inn, he rubbed at his hands. Lydia took a seat at the booth and he followed suit. The hostess smiled at the pair of them, a fellow Nord.

"I've got some fresh-baked bread and cheese if you're after a bite to eat," she suggested. "Is there anything you'd like? My name's Elda."

"A couple meads and some of that bread and cheese would be nice. Thank you." he replied, pulling some coin out of his own coin purse for his and Lydia's food. "We aren't staying long, we just need to warm up and fill our stomachs before we head back out."

"We'll fix you right up," Elda replied, taking his offering. She grabbed a couple bottles of mead off the shelf behind her, giving them to the pair, and set off to the kitchen to slice some bread and cheese for them.

He yawned and scratched at his head, uncorking the bottle before taking a swig of the sweet honeywine. Before long, he and Lydia would both have the warmth buzzing through their veins. Elda set a plate between them and carried on with her duties behind the counter, sweeping the floor while she hummed some nondescript tune of her own making.

Half an hour passed, and finally they finished their food. They didn't talk much over their meal, the inn was too crowded and he didn't know the people here, enough. "Thanks for the food, the bread was great," he commended. Lydia filed out after him, and they made their trek back to the Crossing. They found Sondas at the same place in the mine, and he was glad to know the shipment would be in soon.

Now, it was time to find Derkeethus, and Andrel hoped he was alive, still. Sondas remarked it'd been a while since the Argonian had been around, but he seemed to have a little faith invested in Derk being okay. Together, he and Lydia scouted the area for what seemed like an hour before an off-beaten path lead them down by a waterfall, where a door opened into the mountainside. There were two wooden stakes just outside, and they seemed to have bones tied around them.

"Think this is the place?" he heard Lydia ask.

"I think so... And I don't like the feel of it. Keep your eyes peeled, there's no knowing what's in here."

As they entered, the pathway was flooded with water and the ceiling was dripping with moisture. As they turned down the corridor, an ugly sharp-eared creature dropped down from above, wielding a crudely-crafted sword.

"What in Oblivion is that?" he asked, drawing his sword.

"It's a Falmer," Lydia warned. "Watch out, it probably poisoned that weapon."

The Falmer attacked him first, swiping its dagger at him. The blade cut into his armor, but his skin was protected from the thick leather. The architecture of the ruin seemed to be Nordic with the arched stone bridge, and as he advanced closer, an arrow struck him in the shoulder and he grunted in pain. Lydia pulled her own bow out and shot several times at the Falmer that'd struck him, being careful to move around so the other creature couldn't get a good hit on her.

As she distracted the creature, Andrel pulled the arrow out of his flesh and clapped his hand over the wound. It stung, and he felt dizzy. Trying to shake off the sensation, he steadied himself against the wall and attempted to heal the cut over so it'd at least stop bleeding. Whatever poison had coated that arrow, it was affecting him. Lydia supported him with her arm around his waist. "Come on, lean against me a little. We have to go through this water to that corridor over there."

He nodded. "Let's go," he hissed, his hand still clamping at the puncture wound. As they got further in, they were attacked again by four large insects that spat even more poison at them. If they made it out of this alive, the both of them were going to be sick as a dog. Ignoring the pain, he slashed his sword at the insects, crushing their chitin beneath his steel. "I hate this place," he growled.

"Hey... is anyone there?" he heard a voice call. "Help!"

"Derkeethus, he's alive," Andrel breathed. "Come on. We find Derkeethus, and we can get out."

His wounds stung like a blade was continuously running against his skin, cutting him deeper, but he ignored what he could of it. They needed to get Derkeethus out of here. As they ascended the stairs, another Falmer attacked and it was Lydia that killed him, this time. A large circle closed by a horizontal gate was in the middle of the floor. Looking down, he saw the Argonian miner standing in a shallow pool of water. His scales were glinting in the dim light from the torch, his eyes yellow slits.

"Derkeethus!" he shouted. "Annekke and Sondas sent us. How did you get down there?"

"There's a lever somewhere up there! It'll reveal a staircase. I'm locked in here, and I can't get out. I had a lockpick and I tried to use it, but I broke it on this stupid lock. I should have known better than to swim so close to the falls. Please get me out of here!"

"We're coming, Derk. I got a lot of lockpicks with me."

"Thank the Hist..."

They both looked around the chamber until he found a lever, and pulled it. The stone pulled away from the wall and lowered. "This has to be it. Come on," he ordered Lydia. She followed him down the stairs, and there was a small hallway that lead right to Derkeethus's watery prison cell. Pulling a lockpick out of his pocket, he sighed. He felt sick from the poison, his saliva tasting metallic and sour.

Spitting on the ground below him, he knelt down to the lock and stuck his picks in. It was a delicate process, picking locks. If you didn't take your time, it was easy to break them, even on the simpler mechanisms. "Give me a few moments."

"Alright, is the way cleared?" the Argonian asked.

"Yes, they're all dead. But I've been poisoned, so bear with me. It's a little hard to concentrate," he murmured, trying to focus on the feel of the lock as he turned the picks. Every time he thought it was going somewhere, he got stuck and had to release the pressure on his tools. "Gods, this is a hard one."

"You can do it, you're so close," Lydia encouraged him, kneeling down to watch. "Try not moving the picks so far in each direction. Some of these can be really tough, so you have to move a little at a time."

"Thanks," he replied to Lydia, still focusing. It took him at least five more little flicks before the lock finally clicked and the gate gave way, opening Derkeethus's path to freedom.

"Yes! It's open! Thank you!" the Argonian cheered, moving into the hallway and away from that wretched cell. "Let's get out of here."

"Agreed." he replied, moving so the Argonian could go in front of him. "You're lucky you're invulnerable to poison."

"Don't worry, when we get back to Darkwater Crossing, I'll give you enough coin to get a couple potions for you and your friend. It's the least I can do."

The trio wasted no time getting out of that dank cave, away from the nasty Falmer and their disgusting venom-spitting pets. He'd be happy if he never had to see another Falmer in his life, but he knew that wasn't likely to happen. What he did know was, he was going to start carrying poison cures with him much more often. When they reached Darkwater Crossing again, he sank to sit on Annekke's porch, lowering his head to rest in the palm of his hand.

His stomach was turning and his spit was growing hot in his mouth. He was sore all over from the various poisoned cuts on his skin, some of the slashes angry with reddened flesh. Turning, he stumbled to cough into the woods behind Annekke's house, the nausea finally too much to bear. The food he'd eaten in Windhelm spilled onto the ground and he wiped his mouth. Walking over to the small lake, he scooped some of the water into his mouth, swishing the filth out and spitting it on the ground away from the rest of the water.

Lydia was much better-off than he was, but she was fraught with concern for her Thane. "You don't look too good... Let's get you back to Windhelm. You need to rest." Derkeethus approached and handed them a small pouch of gold. "This should be enough to get a poison treatment for him. Thank you two for getting me out of that place."

"Of course," Lydia replied.

He felt a little better now with the nausea subsided. There was nothing in his stomach to disagree with him, so he at least had that small bit of solace. Lydia guided him back to the city and settled him into a room at the inn, returning five minutes later with a vial. Lifting him so his head was resting on her leg, she uncorked the vial and offered it to him. "Drink this. Quintus said it'll take the night to flush everything out, but you'll be okay again in the morning."

He emptied the potion into his mouth and swallowed. It was a bitter, yet saccharine-sweet taste. Whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant but Lydia offered him a mug of cold water to wash it down. Until then, she had a rag in warm water, cleaning off the various wounds on him. A little wine poured over the cuts made them sting even more, but killed the bacteria that might have been forming. "You really should get some better armor, my Thane," Lydia murmured, wrapping what she could in clean linen Quintus had sent with her.

He gave a single grunt in response. "Another thing I'll look into when we get back. For now, I'm going to sleep. I feel downright shoddy. Thanks for patching up. You okay?"

"I will be. You rest. I'm going to take care of myself now, but I'll come back here to check on you, every now and then. Now, sleep."

She didn't have to tell him twice. As soon as she'd left the room, he turned to lay on his side, facing the wall and pulling a heavy elk hide over himself. Sleeping wasn't easy as 'closing your eyes', so he stared at the wall until he passed out from exhaustion, drowning out the chatter of the inn. He thought he'd been asleep for hours when he woke up next, feeling a little too hot under the hide.

Turning on his back, he wiped his face and rubbed his fingers over his scalp. His hair felt damp from the sweat, and rubbing it around seemed to help give the illusion of cooling down. Whipping his tunic collar out, some cold air bathed his chest. His shoulder was still sore and pulsing from the arrow wound, but it at least wasn't stinging. The tonic was helping him some, and he took a drink of water before laying back down, passing out again.

When morning came, he opened his eyes and blinked until he felt awake. The nausea was gone, the stinging was gone, and he wasn't sweating with a fever, anymore. He sat up on the bed and yawned, stretching his back out as much as he could, leaning forward. A few crunches of his spine, and he stood. Lydia turned into his doorway, stopping. "Oh, good, you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Sore. Very sore, but better. Thank you."

"You caught a fever while you were sleeping. Quintus said that'd happen so over the night I came and dabbed you with a cold rag to keep your temperature down."

"Well, it worked. How are you feeling?"

"I had a few cuts, but I think they used most of their poison on you. It hasn't been a week and you've evaded execution, two dragon attacks, you almost died from that frost troll, and you've been on the business end of a Falmer's poisoned blade. You should take a week off when we get back to Whiterun. You deserve it."

"Glad someone thinks so..." he snorted, his eyes shooting skyward, as if he was glaring at the Divines, themselves. "Akatosh owes me big if I'm going to do this Dragonborn stuff for Him."

"Take it easy, champ. And for the record, nobody is going to hate you if you say no. Don't let yourself get in over your head, it's not good for you."

"You're probably right. Again."

"That's what I'm here for, boss. Remember, I'm sworn to carry your burdens. If something bad happens to you, and I'm there to fix it, I'm going to do exactly that. You're not going to die under my watch."

Another snort, and he tossed her some more coin. "Get us some food. I'm starving, and parched."