The Dockworker 23: Stage Five

• Posted by Clement Bilhorn July 7, 2012 - 464 views

  Before I can find Enthir, I'm more or less roped into attending class at the college. It occurs to me that while I missed the memo on uniform color, I think my hood will still let me pass as a mage.

  

  Or maybe not--my heart about stops when the professor tells me I'm going to be demonstrating a ward spell. I've never cast one before, and I don't like the sound of what the spell's supposed to do. Protect from harmful magic? And I'm demonstrating? This sounds like it's going to get ugly...

  

  And then I find out that Enthir's not even in the college. He's been in the inn back in Winterhold the whole time. 

  I storm out of the college, raging at everybody and everything, feeling very betrayed by Skyrim's educational system. I find Enthir and we talk briefly about Falmer and encoded journals. The sum of it is I'm going to a city called Markarth, which I've never heard of. 

  Since I've got to go back to Windhelm (again) and get a carriage (again) to head west, I take the familiar journey south to the city.

  

  Morning comes sooner than I'd like, but my being a vampire doesn't mean I can't appreciate it for its beauty. Even if it makes my skin smolder.

  

  I decide to forgo the carriage and just hike it past my property and down to Falkreath, so I can meet up with the Brotherhood again and collect on my kills.

  On the way, I meet a young man at a nearby tomb. Always interested to learn who my neighbors are, and get out of the sun for a bit, I agree to help him out with his necromancer problem.

  

  The tomb is stuffed with draugr, whom I correctly deduce are in fact my new friend's family members. I'm rather nonplussed by the prospect of killing a bunch of undead Noses, but I'm surprised to see that the guy I'm with is killing them quite eagerly. They must have been some truly horrible in-laws.

  

  In the tomb's depths, we confront the necromancer. I suppose it figures he's a dark elf--those grayskins really get around.

  

  I help clean up the issues in the tomb and continue on to Falkreath and the Brotherhood's lair. To my great horror, I find the crazy man from the road, weeks ago, being revered as someone of some import by the other members.

  I should have had him committed when I had the chance.

  

  Falkreath has no carriages, so I suppose it'll be faster to just hike out to Markarth from where I am than to go north back to Whiterun. 

  I forgot to factor in the locals, though.

  

  But being a vampire definitely has its perks, I realize. I blend into the dark more effortlessly than before, giving me a serious edge on the bandits who bar my way.

  Although sometimes it's enough to just walk up to their mages and murder them.

  

  I mean, it's not like being a vampire has made me any less dangerous with a blade.

  

  And when I stumble across a small family of orcs, my vampire magic--much easier and more practical than silly wards and fear spells--is always enough to even the odds.

  

  Maybe this vampire thing isn't so bad after all. Sure, it got a few people in Riften killed, but I've seen entire towns wiped out just because I get followed around by magical flying lizards.

  Frankly, I should try to cure being Dragonborn.