I grab a carriage back down to Whiterun Hold so I can see Delphine, and not a moment too soon. There's already a dragon at work, and while the motley assortment of guards and farmers and giants makes short work of the beast, I count myself a valuable asset to the team.
I wonder what the Skyrimmers do with all the skeletons I leave lying around. Fertilizer, maybe?
I reconnoiter with Delphine, who checks over the notes I stole from the embassy. She seems bummed out at first and I'm hoping this is a dead end, because then I can honestly tell Lisin I tried everything, but then she starts talking about some guy named Esbern who's hiding out in the Riften Ratway.
Well, there's a place with which I have some familiarity.
But first things first; I've still got a corrupted Daedric artifact jostling around in my pack, and it needs addressing. So I head up to Winterhold and talk to the mage who set me on track in the first place for this beautiful, beautiful item.
Evidently cleansing the Star is as simple as trapping my soul inside and killing the other souls inside it. It's all pretty strange but nothing I haven't done before, right?
Why I put more trust in these crackpots than a simple innkeeper who happens to be part of an ancient order of...dragonslayers...no, no, I think I just don't trust everyone and by that I mean I trust everybody unconditionally. It's not like I haven't fought my way out of every tight spot I've gotten into in the past.
Although this one could be a bit tricky...
But for an Oblivion-esque netherworld, the Star follows some pretty conventional rules, so I'm able to take down Malyn Varen and his daedra allies in no time at all.
By the time the mage gets me out of there and back in my body, it occurs to me that I don't quite know what I'll do with the Star. I'm carrying enough septims that I could probably hire someone to enchant every sword in Skyrim. But I'm loathe to waste an investment, so I thank the mage for his time and then it's off to Riften.
Unlike the inhabitants of Whiterun, the people in this hold seem to be managing their dragon problem just fine without me. The soul seems to have gone off, though, or something, since it doesn't disintegrate at my approach. Is dragon meat edible? I should come back in a few weeks and ask.
My casual jaunt through the Ratway is quickly interrupted by some crazy Khajit spouting invectives about the Thalmor wanting me dead or something. One could almost say she lost her head, but this wouldn't be strictly accurate.
I believe the remainder is a good bit of brainstem, as well.
But I don't think on it for too long--I'm on a mission, here. I meet up with my employees at the Ragged Flagon and press them for information on Esbern, and why I've never heard of him, and why no one thought it might be nice for me to know. Dirge gives me an inordinate amount of lip, considering I own him, but he's also the only Thief to actually be of any help, so I buy him a drink.
It occurs to me further inside the Ratway that I should ask my people how a bunch of Thalmor agents slipped past them. I know the elves are mostly magical and probably have their ways, but I mean, come on. The door was locked when I got here.
But all ends well. I find Esbern and convince him I'm safe, upon which he vanishes and starts undoing a prodigious array of locks. "It wouldn't have helped," I tell him. "Apparently the Thalmor just walk through these things anyways."
Did I just hear someone say "bucket"?
