Chapter 1: Changes
(Level 41) I barely flinched as the snow troll’s latest attack bounced off my steel plate. It was slowing down now, great streaks of red stood out against the albino skin., testament to the orc made great axe I wielded. Deciding enough was enough I finished the contest with a powerful downward swing as I moved backward, away from another clumsy attack. Snow trolls had once offered great training, their natural toughness and healing abilities giving them the endurance to last and try different things against. Since I had awakened to being the Dragonborn even these creatures offered little challenge. It had only been a couple of months since I aided the warriors of Whiterun in slaying the dragon and in turn awakening a heritage I had known nothing about. Now I seemed to grow stronger with each day, new possibilities opened before me. A wanderer and a mercenary, I had travelled all over Tamriel like my father before me but had always felt the pull home to my Nord roots in Skyrim. My carefully honed skills were now supplemented by the power of Thun, an ability I was quickly becoming more adept at using through experimentation and the teaching of the mysterious Grey Beards at the Throat of the World.
I knew I had a destiny awaiting him and had taken steps to following it but I also held ambitions and saw no reason not to use my growing powers and reputation to seek wealth and prosperity. Well-paying work was finding its way to me and I was not far away from being able to afford an impressive home in Solitude. Climbing atop my horse, Masha, and making my way down the mountain side in the direction of Windhelm, I wondered on the latest such employment and the mysterious note brought to me by courier in Morthal. I pulled this from my pack, absentmindedly adjusting the strap more from habit than need, bulging with loot ready for sale. I had long since forgotten the weight of it. Holding the reins of Masha in one hand I held the note in the other and read again:
“Dark forces are on the rise dragonborn! You are needed! Meet me in Candlehearth Hall in Windhelm. Help me in this matter and you will be well rewarded.”
- Belgarth Olbert
This was not the first such note that I had received and, having earned good pay from such things before, I had little cause to doubt the authenticity of the message.
It was dark by the time I arrived at Windhelm, a frightening place in the daylight, the swirling clouds of snow and flickering of the nearby fires leading to the city created phantom images and ghastly shadows in the dark of night. A sense of foreboding hit me as I dismounted at the stables and walked toward the city. I tried to dismiss this as an over active imagination but my sense of unease only grew as I walked through the gate.
The tavern was not far from the city entrance and the warmth that greeted me as I walked through the door was a welcome feeling and yet the tingling in the back of my mind did not go away and I remained vigilant to any threat that might rear up.
Walking toward the innkeeper I asked:
“Excuse me but I am looking for a man by the name of Belgarth- is he here by any chance?”
The innkeeper, a nordic woman, gave me a once over before replying:
“You may want to take that helmet off, hard to trust a man you can’t look in the eye. A man that goes by the name of Belgarth is here but he has a shift look about him and seeing you standing there like the God of War is like to send him running”
I had spent so much time in the wilderness recently that I had forgotten many of the niceties of civilised society. I quickly removed the helmet, the innkeeper’s look became an apprising one taking in rugged features, piercing jade green eyes and seeming to notice for the first time the broad powerful physique of a warrior.
“You’ll find him upstairs, course if’n you get tired of his company maybe you could use someone with a bit more…feminine charm?”
I flashed her my most winning smile as I could think of worse ways to spend the evening, almost regretting the need to meet Belgarth.
“This I am afraid to say is most pressing business but hopefully should not take me all night, perhaps we could catch up later.”
“I’d like that”
I ordered an ale, tipping her more than was needed and worked my way upstairs, sipping at the ale as I went. My shoulder bumped into a man as I cleared the last stairs.
“Hey, watch where you are going Milk drink-“
Before finishing his sentence the man seemed to take full stock of who he was yelling at, but then pride kicked back in.
“I’m Rolff Stone- Fist, brother of the great Galmar Stone- Fist and when people bump into me they apologise fast.”
“You’re the town bully with a famous brother and a small cock.”
<Brawl>
With both fists raised Rolff advanced, I didn’t want to keep Belgarth waiting too long having already wasted time training with Snow Trolls I stepped forward to meet Rolff. Taking a punch square on the chin I just smiled.
“Is that the best you got?!”
I said this just before planting a thunderbolt of a right hand into Rolff’s solar plexus sending him crashing to the floor where he remained, vomiting the remains of meat and ale onto the ground and his own face.
The fight such as it was had taken place so quickly no one appeared to notice barring a small shifty looking man in tattered clothes sitting in the corner near the fireplace. I made my way toward the man:
“Are you Belgarth?”
“I am, and you must be the Dragonborn?!”
“Please, just call me Unn”
Looking at the sorry state of the man I began to wonder about the supposed great reward promised in the note but decided to probe further before making any decisions.
“You mentioned a threat of some kind, dark forces?”
The man appeared about to answer before swinging around in his seat, looking all around him at the patrons that could not have looked more disinterred. The fain sound of the ‘Age of Aggression’ carried through the tavern:
“Aye Dragonb- Unn. Dark forces indeed, I am lucky that I am here sitting before you. Allow me to explain in full. I was once a wealthy lord living in a manor near Markarth where I oversaw our family’s silver mine. My wife died in childbirth to my daughter Helena”
I found myself drifting out and snapped myself back to attention- it seems whenever someone provides me with these quests they insist on offering their life story when all I need to know is what to kill and where to find it.
“- Helena had become my whole world and yes I spoiled her. Then one day a man came to the manor, he was dressed in the blue robes of a mage and had the cultured accent of one from the Winterhold college. He said that he was seeking employment and could be of great service to the area and the mine, he had spells that could track silver vanes and healing magic that would keep my workers strong. I welcomed him to my home. At first it was as he said, we found silver more than I would have thought my men could mine and yet mine it they did, they never seemed to tire just worked and worked. It was some time before I realised the cost. It was not apparent at first but one by one the men fell sick. When I asked him to help he blamed a malady that magic could not heal. He became ever more reclusive, spending more and more time in the disused cellar I had granted him to practice his ‘art’ he began to sleep and take his meals there. All the while the miners became worse and worse, I pushed him for help, he told me he was searching for answers. The first death was quickly followed by the second and the third, even I began to feel unwell having chosen to help out in the mine although I resisted his urging to accept his magic.”
He paused to take a sip of ale, his hand shaking as he lifted the tankard to his lips.
“I had begun to suspect he had a hand in these disasters, I decided before confronting him I would need evidence. I waited for one of the rare times that he was not in the cellar and let myself in using a spare key. What I found down there”
He shuddered, taking a moment and a longer pull of ale before continuing.
“Dark rites, ancient symbols, blood, lots of blood. I don’t even know where it came from, it was just there… everywhere. As I turned to leave he was standing by the door out of the cellar. He had held Helena close. I shouted that I would kill him and he just laughed. I threatened to go to the Jarl in Markarth and he told me to go right ahead. I didn’t know what to do, I’m no warrior and with him holding Helena I was lost. When I asked him what he wanted he simply told me I was not worthy, that I should get the hell out of his cellar and the hell out of his manor. His manor! I did as I had threatened but as I explained the situation to the Jarl he refused to help, as soon as I mentioned that bastards name he didn’t want to know. He wouldn’t say why but I noticed as I was speaking those Thalmor agents they let loose around the place had stopped to listen.
I went back home to try to reason with him but he simply told me that he liked his new home and his… his… his new bride better. I had not been gone more than a couple of days but there was a different look in her eyes and a change, something more than physical, more than mental even. As if something had happened to her very soul. As a final indignity he told me to strip off my fine clothes as he liked the look of the material, assured me that he would put my silver to good use and told me not to come back to his property again. I followed tales of you throughout Skyrim to this area. Please, you are the only one that can help.”
I sat back to deliberate, the man spoke well, certainly he could come from money which contained the promise of silver. Powerful or not the spellcaster didn’t concern me over much, I had always found once you got in close enough their pretty spells counted for very little and my armour was enchanted to turn back the most common attack spells any way. The mention of Thalmor was a concern, not a group even I would cross lightly. Yet I regret to say the thing that made up my mind was the daughter; my imagination had been running wild at the first mention of her. Nothing like a damsel in distress to get the blood flowing. I had wondered throughout if a night with her may somehow be part of my reward.
“It seems we have little time to lose. Take me to this Manor now. I will confront this wizard and free your daughter. Mind I will hold you to that promise of a reward.”
“Then you will help me?! Thank the Gods, let us be underway!”
I walked with him toward the door, casting one regretful look back at the innkeeper wondering at what might have been. Even this thought set a burning in me and I resolved that the sooner I rescued this daughter the better.
We made our way to the stables, I got on my horse and he hopped into the back of the carriage. From there we began the long journey to Markarth. From there we proceeded on foot toward the manor along one of the main roads. I kept a wary eye out for foresworn but it seemed they had all migrated from the area, this in itself caused me some alarm as forsworn were usually not driven off by anything less than an army. It was not long before we stood before a dark foreboding Manor, three stories high with an large open courtyard, a path led behind and you could just make out the miners homes and the open hole of the mine itself.
We walked toward the door in silence but as we got there the door swung open.
“I hate traps”
We walked in, the dark of the manor illuminated only by a single candle at the entrance. The flickering shadows revealed a grandly furnished home with multiple rooms and a grand sweeping staircase.
“Which way to the cellar?”
Belgarth gestured down a small dark corridor, we walked in silence until we approached a heavy wooden door bound by dark bands of iron. Trying the handle I found the door unlocked. This led to a dark winding stair case of heavy stone steps. An eternity later the scene that greeted me was like something out of Oblivion, just as Belgarth had described. Blood wound its way in strange patterns across the walls, symbols etched the stone ground. The walls were surrounded by heavy oaken bookshelves overflowing with ancient looking texts and strangely shaped vials. The only other furniture was a small work table and a heavy stone alter. Upon this lay a pale skinned beauty. Above her stood a high elf in resplendent blue robes, a small smile playing along his lips.
“Belgarth welcome back, who is your friend?”
“My name is Unn, the- drag Fuz Do Rah!”
Often the trick to besting spellcasters is to catch them by surprise, as my Thu’un bounced the mage off his feet I charged forward, great axe in hand. I swung a powerful arc downward but he got a ward up just in time taking the brunt of the impact. I did not let up, attack after attack driving him back counting on my stamina to outlast his magicka. Suddenly his back hand glowed and I recognised the tell-tale flicker of a fireball. Wise to this my Thu’un was once again ready and I blasted him back before he could get off the spell. He went all over the alter. Before I could cover the ground again he had regained his feet and had both hands aglow over the sleeping form of Belgarth’s daughter.
“The Dragonborn Belgarth? Impressive”
He panted this through clenched teeth, the smug smirk firmly wiped from his face. Belgarth had been cowering in a corner while I had fought the mage but now rose and spoke.
“Damn you Therin! Get away from her you bastard. What did have you done.”
A little of the composure seemed to return to the mage, Therin, I really should have thought to ask.
“Alas Belgarth your daughter was not the one after all, I thought she and I were compatible but it was not to be.”
There seemed to be a deeper meaning behind ‘compatible’ some innuendo I was not picking up on.
“As to what I have done to her, why I have simply placed a security upon your return should you find someone capable of besting me. In truth I did not think such a person could exist but here we are.”
I was beginning to feel left behind.
“What security?” I asked.
“A curse, a very simple but very powerful one. One that slowly drains her very essence, a kind of magical parasite.”
“Then remove it you bastard or I will cut you down where you stand!”
“Temper, temper Dragonnborn. I could remove the curse but then what is to stop you ‘cutting me down? There is however, another way…”
This is why I hate mages, them and writers, they always take an age to get to the fucking point.
“Out with it then dog”
“Why you could remove it yourself Dragonborn”
“Me? You talk nonsense, what would I know of curses.”
“Its about choice Dragonborn, you choose to take the curse upon yourself and find a cure. On this poor fragile girl it has laid her low but on you, mighty warrior that you are, would have time to find someone willing to remove it”
“You know you could just save a lot of time and trouble and remove the curse from the girl yourself”
“Ah but where would the fun be in that?! Besides as you take on the effect of the curse it will give me time enough to leave without you getting hold of me. The curse will take some time to fully slow YOU down I imagine.”
“And what is to stop you simply blasting me while I suffer the effects of this curse or blasting Belgarth and Helena for that matter. If I allow you to leave what is to stop you coming back for them?”
“I care nothing for them, I did not find what I was looking for here except to further my research, a new more interesting project has arisen that will require my full attention”
His eyes seemed to sparkle as he uttered that last, looking with an unsettling intensity straight at me.
“As to how did you put it? ‘Blasting you’ I can see the quality of your armor’s enchantment and have felt the power of your vitality first hand. Even under the effect of the curse I doubt I could kill you in time and would not like to risk the consequences. As to killing them, there is no need, they are no threat, the girl is no use and I have long spent all his silver on my research.”
The mention of the silver was an unwelcome bit of news, yet much as I wanted to get rich I still believed in doing the right thing and as the Dragonborn had taken on roles simply to help. Perhaps it was vanity but I had begun to view myself as a hero, as someone that would do the right thing. I would question further but in truth my mind was already made up.
“You mention someone to remove the curse, how would I locate such a person? I would not trust you to do it.”
“That is not my concern” again his eyes sparkled as if he knew something, as if he had guessed what my action would be. I got the feeling there was a wider game going on, that I was simply a pawn in some great strategy. This whole sorry mess simply a charade for something greater.
“Look the options are very clear, you allow me to walk to the door, take on the curse yourself or I kill the girl, you I imagine kill me and we all losers. How brave do you feel Dragonborn?”
Almost as an afterthought he added:
“If you are so dead set against playing the tragic hero and dying in the young girls stead it would seem eminently plausible someone in the mage’s college at Winterhold could help you. They may be a backward group of second rate amateurs in this the un-informed backwater of Tamriel but they do have access to more research than I alone can get my hands on.”
Genuine anger marred these last words and I got the feeling he had said a little more than he meant to but had little idea what I could do with the information. It seemed like an eternity since Belgarth had spoken last.
“Drgonborn, Unn. I know this is more than I can ever ask and it would now seem more than I can repay but please, save my daughter.”
The obvious answer seemed right in front of me, that the old man should do the noble thing and sacrifice himself to save his daughter’s life. I had a destiny, a responsibility to all of Skyrim and yet I could not ask it. It would not have been… heroic.
“You may never be able to swallow your pride enough to ask Belgarth Dragonborn”
Had the bastard been reading my mind.
“But let me dispel the idea, the magic is sealed with a kiss, and an openness of spirit, the very nature of which would not work with Father and Daughter. An incestuous corruption of my beautiful work would simply kill them both.”
I stood for a moment longer, before slowly nodding and walking toward the girl, removing my helmet I went. The mage walked around me toward the door, his glowing hands still pointing at the girl. That damn smirk back on his lips. I did not look at him as he exited the cellar I simply lowered my face toward the sleeping Helena and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. In my heart, I knew the mage had not lied in this and a second later the magic hit me. I fought down my bodies reaction to push it away and instead welcomed into me. It burned with a pain I had never felt and yet I kept my lips upon hers and allowed the magic to flow. In what could have been seconds, minutes, hours or years I pulled away and fell to my knees. I felt dizzy and light headed. With difficulty, I rose to my feet to notice the girl now awake and embracing her father. Both were wracked with sobs. Slowly we made our way out of the manor, when it was apparent the mage was gone I allowed my pride to fade and rested some of my weight upon Belgarth.
“What will you both do now, re-start your mine?”
“No Unn this place holds too many dark memories now and we would live in fear of that man’s return. For the short term we will accompany you to Winterhold and ensure you arrive there. This burden you carry is after all in part our responsibility.”
I would have waved the suggestion away but cramps were beginning to wrack my body, I felt weak in spirit and was not confident I would not fall off my horse somewhere along the trip if left alone. And so, as a group, we travelled to the frigid ruins of Winterhold and its college having packed and made ready, Belgarth helped me remove my plate and change into a belted tunic I had in my pack, suddenly the weight of my armour felt unbearable.
As a sorry procession we arrived in Winterhold, I saw Belgarth off at the inn, telling them not to wait for me. He thanked me again and Helena embraced me. Ah, if only I had the strength to request a reward they could still pay. Walking out of the inn I headed toward the college. I had been granted access earlier in my adventures and was permitted to walk toward the college without further tests or questions.
Seeking out the arch mage I quickly explained what had happened.
“Therin did you say?”
“You know him?!”
“I know of him, a couple of years ago a former apprentice of his came to us, Leo. He’s still here now, very gifted but very nervous. He would never say much of what happened with his former teacher. Only that he would never go back. He may be the best one to help you. You will find him in his dorm room. Mirabelle will show you the way.”
The arch mage gestured to the severe Breton who handled the college introductions, she in turn led me to Leo whom I was surprised to see was a Nord not a Altmer.
As Mirablle left us I wasted no time in relaying everything that had transpired, even the walk to the dormitory had taxed me and I seemed to be declining rapidly. I thought again of Helena in her unmoving state and wondered how much time I had before hitting that state and how much time from that to death.
“So, I accepted the curse and travelled here, please say that you can help me, that you can lift the curse.”
I only now really looked at the man I was asking for help. He was thin for a Nord, even a little short. He did indeed have a fugitive look about him and he seemed to be sweating more than me, he still seemed young and yet his face bore many signs of age.
“I, I can help you but-“
“But what? If there is a price I can pay, I have gold, artefacts. Name your price.”
“I am sorry it is not a question of price. I can help you but I can’t lift the curse. The price you pay is not to me.”
“So what can you do, what will happen. I don’t understand.”
“Therin is a master of essence magic, the ability to manipulate life forces and energy. He is obsessed with the flows of lifeforce and its possibilities. It is my belief that he seeks eternal life without paying the price such as vampirism or becoming a lich. This obsession has given him massive knowledge on life magic and how to manipulate it such as your curse. Creating such a parasite, he melded it to your essence, to remove it, to destroy it would in turn kill you.”
“What do you mean my essence?”
“Essence, it is the link between your physical self and your spiritual, a strong piece of both. This parasite attaches itself to the greatest part of yourself. It is beyond my skill to extract, I doubt any save Therin himself could remove it.”
My mind was whirling, the effects of the curse, the revelations of magic, the sense of being a fly caught in a frostbite spider’s web.
“You said you could help me, what can you do.”
“There is only one solution I can think of, to lock your essence into a soul gem. I can transfer that part of you that is cursed into the soul gem and stop the parasite from spreading further.”
“How would that would work, how would that not kill me as much as destroying the parasite?”
“I can’t be certain it won’t kill you, this is all theory as far as I know only Therin has attempted such things and not on this scale of essence. It will be a slower draining away than simply blasting the parasite which would take you with it as it died. If we contain your essence and you can track Therin down maybe you can find a way to make him remove the curse. All I can say is that if we are going to do this it will have to be fast, the longer that we wait the more of yourself the parasite will reach.”
The idea of putting myself in the control of mages, of giving myself over to more of this ‘essence magic’ seemed a bad idea after all that was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. Yet I saw no other choice. No longer even having the strength to answer I simply nodded.
“To do this I will need mages Colette for her healing magic and Tolfdir for his transformation magic.”
At my confused look he explained.
“As I said your essence is spiritual and physical, I can handle the spiritual, your life energy. Your soul remains the same. But I cannot handle the physical, your body will undergo changes, in part we will be rebuilding it as we go but in truth once we remove the main part of your physical being I do not know what will emerge. With the healing and transformation, I can near promise you will be whole, healthy and sane. Beyond that I do not know. I’m sorry that I cannot offer more.”
Would it be better to simply accept death, or perhaps to journey out and try to find another cure. Yet I could not accept the defeat, to allow myself to be killed by such a low trick as a curse. As to journeying out, I was barely capable of standing on my own feet, the trip to Winterhold had taken the last of my strength and I knew there was nowhere in Skyrim likely to have more answers than here. I laid back on Leo’s bed as he went to fetch Colette and Tolfdir, trying not to dwell on the upcoming magic. I closed my eyes and must have drifted off as when I opened them again Leo, Tolfdir and Colette were standing over me. Colette offered me a reassuring smile.
“We’ll have you better in no time, mark my words. Leo at least understands the value and power of healing magic.”
Tolfdir chipped in.
“Yes, yes Colette now can we get on with it before the poor sod dies on Leo’s bed?”
The three gathered around me in a sort of triangle, Leo at the head of the bed holding up a black soul gem, Tolfdir and Colette at each side of me. Strange, alien chanting began from each of their throats, I noticed that the soul gem began to glow with a yellowish light. Suddenly I began to become very hot, I could see nothing but the gem. Pain rolled over me, white fire washing me to my core. I heard a screaming, barely aware the sound was coming from my own throat. After an eternity, I passed out.
I opened my eyes slowly, already a world away from what I had just experienced. I felt like laughing, the pain, the fatigue the misery were all gone. I felt again my fingers and toes moving, I could still wield a weapon of that I was certain. Elation lifted me up. I felt strange and yet as normal as I had felt for a long time, vaguely aware of rumblings in my stomach which I passed to hunger. My tunic felt tight at the chest for some reason. Perhaps part of the supposed physical change? Had I become even more muscled out? A smile had been about to form on my lips until I noticed for the first time the concerned, even horrified looks on the three faces above me. Was I suddenly ugly? Did I grow horns.
Gingerly, I started to sit up, Leo rushed to my side.
“Don’t push yourself, there were… complications.”
Complications? I continued to sit up, again that strain at my chest, almost painful. I looked down and had to look again. There was a pair of fairly large, round breasts. Much as my hands probed they could not undo this, indeed it simply confirmed that these were indeed mine.
“What the hell have you do-“ Even the voice was not my own, instead a gentle, almost lyrical woman’s voice came out. It was then that my hands travelled south and found only smoothness, the genitals there most definitely female.
“Hand me a looking mirror”
“Maybe-“
“NOW!”
Gone was the thirty something warrior, the rugged good looks replaced by the soft features of an admittedly beautiful woman in her early twenties. I took in the full red lips and gentle small nose. With nausea I recognised that my jade green eyes remained the same although the shape had taken on a wider more feminine structure. <Level 1>
I vomited then, over the floor, over the bed. They let me rest at the college, they monitored me and consoled me. I offered little by way of conversation, only able to stare into the swirling colours of the black soul gem and reconcile that the best part of myself was trapped within. Acceptance was difficult. I had not been aware of a lack of strength until I attempted to lift my great axe, at first I attributed it to recovery, then to my strength being stored within the gem. Eventually I realised it was simply the limitation of my new body. I had met many women warriors and never found their strength to be too limited and yet for all my arms still held a toned definition the lithe curves of my body held only a fraction of the power I once commanded. It was also strange to realise I was significantly shorter, I was used to towering over those around me, now even my nord female standards I was short barely as tall as an imperial woman. But perhaps most upsetting as the Thu’un, all my practice, all my natural mastery was gone. The different shouts I had mastered, the souls I had consumed to unlock their potential was now hidden from me. I could manage a small Fuz, an unrelenting shout but it took some time before I could manage another.
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