Fire On The Mountain (A Skyrim Quest)

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By the way... you do realize you already have steel weapons?

The Tale Boldly Told

She dreams of fire, she dreams of smoke, but she also dreams of the crisp cooling rains that sweep it all away. She catches bits and pieces of her dreams, and the ones about smoke are the most interesting, because the smoke curls into forms and shapes, into crouched figures leaping through dark alleys, and other things that should have meaning but she is far too tired.

She knows they all are.

Every moralist talks about how impactful killing people is, for good or ill. Very few people she's heard of have talked about how exhausting it is. When she wakes, she feels remarkably rested, and yet still tired, yawning and stretching where she lay. She felt her hand bump against someone else. Maybe their shoulder?

She yawns and rolls over, taking a bit more of the blanket with her and falling right back to sleep.

"Thief," a voice mutters, what seems like a thousand hours later. "Blanket thief."

Do'azda groans, and finally her eyes actually open. Ingne is in front of her, only one eye open and barely open at that.

"This one…" Do'azda starts, looks around. Ingne is propped up on the bed, clutching what little of the blankets she can grasp. "Is a Khajiit, don't you know…" she yawns, "Khajiit are thieves." She says it sleepily and then tries to nestle back into the blanket to rest a little while longer.

"Bathes-In-Steel is already awake," Ingne says, looking scarcely less tired.

"Of course she is," Do'azda says. She slowly starts to get up. "Has she eaten yet? Do'azda could heat something up." There were a few things at least that could use some boiling water to be made more palatable, along with the other kind of rations.

"I don't think so?" Igne says. She brushes out her hair with her fingers. Do'azda's fur is mussed too, and she really does need to take a bath. But she can wait on this, she decides as she stands up.

"So, we should eat, talk to the people in the prison, and loot… responsibly," Do'azda says. She knows that there's only so much they can take before the noble says something about it. It's a balancing act, but one that is fascinating in its way. She's not used to being in this position.

Still, she is sure she'll take to it quickly enough.

---

They are digging through the Wizard's Study when Do'azda comes across something interesting. It is a small study, a musty place that has a small number of old books, most of them simply for show… or rather of no use. She's read more or less all the information she'd need from them, and she's not so foolish as to not gather that he would probably notice a book out of place. Perhaps she could pretend it has been stolen… but it is best to be careful.

She knows by now that she has enough strength that she can make enemies far more quickly than she thinks even with all of her power to kill some of them.

But what matters is that she finds something that he will not miss. He probably should miss it, because it's absolutely gorgeous. But it's also covered in dust. It is a set of perfect alchemist flasks, complete with one of the cleanest set ups for gathering scraps, a mortar and pestle, even what looks like a set of dried ingredients, the kinds of things you'd just have on hand for doing beginner potions. And none of it looks like it's been used.

Do'azda knows exactly what happened as soon as she sees it.

He says, 'One day I should get around to doing some potion making, other Wizards are doing it' and then forgets about it. She grins, and says, "Look at what Do'azda has found. An entire kit! Untouched!"

Bathes-In-Steel turns and considers it. "Untouched? Why?"

"Haven't you ever wanted to do something but then never got around to it?" Do'azda asks. There's a reason there are some Schools of Magic that she hasn't (yet) gotten around to learning, though she's sure that she'll eventually figure them out if given enough time. Speaking of, she spies a few tomes she might want to get…

"No," Bathes-In-Steel says, sounding genuinely baffled. "I have always done what I say I am going to do? How will people trust you otherwise?"
"Or fear you," Do'azda says, "She guesses fear is there too."

"Yes."

Ingne gives another one of those looks, the look that says: "What am I listening to?"

"Ingne, Bathes-In-Steel is a very… direct person, she is pretty sure you know that," Do'azda says. "So Do'azda is not surprised that she is the sort who would never do that. But she can say that she has started many things she has not, yet, finished."

Ingne considers it and nods, "What about this one?" She is holding out a tome. "I looked through it." She flips it open and said, "It's about repelling the undead. You once said you fought the undead at…"

Ah.

Do'azda remembers, and now she knows just why she would want to make sure to have something like this. She's not sure if it'll work, but that's a good choice, and soon they're talking easily and quickly about the basics of magic and what it is like to learn it. Bathes In Steel never has any field of magic that they try to learn that they don't. If she is not interested, she does not learn, and if she is she does.

It is enough to fill Do'azda with a kind of absurd envy. Thankfully it is absurd enough that no sudden jealous impulse from her overtakes her. She's occasionally been jealous, but this sort of jealousy would be silly and a little obscene. She is a Shaman, and she has her own traditions.

So it is fine. She is able to tell herself this, and she is even able to believe it.

---

The kitchens, unsurprisingly, are rather trashed, but the storehouse seems to have been guarded, and the smells that come from it are very, very welcome. There are the regular sort of field rations, but there are also what seems to be dried berries in varied and sundry kinds from across Skyrim and beyond, nuts of many varieties, dried meats that seem to be not all that hard, and good, preserved bread. This is a ration, sure, but the ration of a noble off on campaign, and these are the rations that draw Bathes In Steel's eyes and indeed her nose to the small, musty larder. They decided to take a good number of them, the better to be able to eat on their way to and fro.

Do'azda cannot disagree, not really, and so it all passes easily enough.

---

The armory has little enough of interest, especially compared to what they all stumble into when they come back down to the prison.

The ensuing hours have not cooled tempers or created unity, and indeed there is the distinct sound of shouting as they get closer. "You've always done that, always tried things and then been surprised when it ends up furrier than a Khajiit's backside, and uglier than an Orc's mother." Addald says the curses and insults like someone who is not used to them, like a delicate old lady holding everything with lace because she does not want to get her fur dirty.

"I tried something, at least I tried something rather than letting the old… so and so--"

"Yeah, and where did that get Brend? That Dragonborn, she's dangerous," one of the women says, the younger one… Do'azda can't remember her name.

"Yeah," a woman's voice says, but it sounds wistful. "A dangerous, powerful individual, strong and rugged and certainly not adverse to murder."

"By all the Divines at once," the younger woman says. Do'azda struggles to remember their names as she strides in, and all at once the conversation shifts.

The kids, who are in a corner trying to amuse themselves while the adults argue, look up and one of them, a young boy of… something? Eight? Nine? It is hard to tell. She cannot honestly say that all Nords look alike, but they're hard to always put to an exact age. She's not exactly been around a lot of Nord children. None up a mountain, and no respectable mother would let her child talk to a Khajiit, lest they risk being stolen away or eaten or… something. She does not know the exact myth, but she knows what sorts of myths follow Khajiit outside of their homelands. She's hurt herself before, spent a good three days hurting herself deliberately and with cruel malice, by asking for every bad story of Khajiit traveling beyond Elsweyr, everything she might expect and fear, from each and every trader and traveler.

Then she'd gone anyways, heading north because duty and responsibility are greater than any such fear.

It is with this cruelty that she wraps herself as she approaches.

"Miss. Miss! Are you really a dragon?"

"Do'azda is told she is, and Rahjin seemed to have known it and not seen fit to comment," she says, for the sheer joy of the look of bafflement on the children's faces. "Rahjin is my familiar. A spirit," she says. "So of course he knows my soul is that of a dragon, and he didn't see it worth remarking on." Her grin is vicious. "He's a hawk."

"Ooh, bird," the girl says, and her eyes are wide.

"So, what are you are arguing about?" Ingne asks. She has slipped in comparatively unseen, since the Khajiit is clearly the main attraction, and Bathes-in-Steel is busy elsewhere.

The older blonde woman stares at her, and the shock she's seen before has become something different. It is not just awe, because she steps forward, and… oh. "Honored Dragonborn, there's the same arguments as before. Lord Stalleo is going to return and… set things to right, is that correct?"

"Of course it is," Korstbjorn says. The youngest son seems to be rallying to try to take charge, as Addald says, "And I would ask… if you could let me go early, because Stalleo's unfair wrath will--"

"If anything you should keep him there," the third woman, Addald's wife, declares. She is not nearly as awed by Do'azda. "And let us out."

"Dragonborn… I would like it if I could go out." The voice is soft, and. Oh. She is staring at Do'azda and now Do'azda understands that this shock is not just shock. "You are powerful, and I do not think we could make you do anything, but… I would prefer not to be found by my father in a cell." She shudders, but. Then she says. "I have done nothing to aid his overthrown, not like Korstbjorn, but he's never liked me--"

"Because you are always like this," Addald's wife says. "Look at you now, making… cow…"

She trails off.

Do'azda realizes all at once that she knows the look that this woman is giving her. It is appreciation. Lust. Desire. She is leaning forward, she has made herself at least slightly a fool singing Do'azda's praises in a way that makes it clear that the power is certainly an aphrodisiac.

The thought makes Do'azda look her back over in turn as she says, "The children… are they alright?"

"Yes, they should be fine," Addald says, after a moment. He seems to perk up, seems to like taht she's asked about that. "But it'd be better if they, and we, were out."

"Oh yes, let him out," Korstbjorn says. "And he'll make sure that everyone still in here knows they owe him."

Ah, family drama.

A few things very rapidly become very clear:

The eldest, Addald, is the only one of the two brothers here who is married, and he is the one who is closest to Lord Stalleo, for whatever that is worth. He is a proud, honorable family man, a Nord's Nord who feels uncomfortable around Do'azda, but does seem to care for his wife and children. Yet he dislikes Brend, Korstbjorn, and the older of his two sisters, Sigri. If he gets out he is likely to lord it over them, and perhaps even get involved in paving the way for Stalleo. Though he does not always get along with his father, he seems to get along better than most.

His wife Agneete genuinely seems to dislike both of his sisters, and Korstbjorn, and does not seem to trust Do'azda either, while the kids are both fascinated by her and seem to stare at her at all times. They're likely to be underfoot, that much is quite clear, though perhaps Ingne could distract them?

Do'azda certainly does not have the skills necessary to care for them, and Bathes-In-Steel… well. Well.

Brend is not there, and he might be dead or perhaps he fled? Addald seems worried about him, but he's the only one, and even then that worry does not seem entirely fond.

Korstbjorn, for his part, wants to get out so that he can try to spin things with Stalleo, or even just straight up leave… not that he admits that. It is clear that he's not going to just lay down, and that he has been made into a fool and a clown by his own brother's betrayal, and by Brurid's scheming and worse.

The younger of the two sisters, Kyota is adamant to get out for simpler reasons, that being those of her comfort, and seems to sway in the wind, beyond joining Agneete in sometimes getting after Sigri, the elder sister.

Sigri, who has expressed interest in leaving for vague reasons as much as anything, is soft faced and soft-bodied, with soft blue eyes and golden blonde hair, and that softness in this case feels like it is both yielding and not, for there are lines on her face, as she is not that much younger than Addald, and yet she is unmarried and perhaps there are reasons for it that are staring her in the face. Do'azda does manage to get all manner of details, and yet she cannot help but admit that what she gets about Sigri has more to do with looking her over, and measuring the fit of her dress, as it does anything truly intelligent.

She finally comes to a decision on what to do, and who to let out…

What to do?

[-] [Prison] Let none of them out, they can all stew and hopefully be out of the way of anything and everything. [Blocked by Tangled Tails]
[] [Prison] Let only Sigri out, the others can stay here and wait for the coming of the Lord of the Fort, and wish them all the best with it.
[] [Prison] Let Sigri and the children out - there's no harm in them, surely.
[] [Prison] Let them all out except Addald and Korstbjorn; they are the two most like to cause her trouble, and some more time in the cells won't do them any harm. Perhaps it will let them clear the air.
[] [Prison] Let them all out but Korstbjorn, as he made dealings with Brurid. He can rot, for all Do'azda cares.
[] [Prison] Let them all out. The internal squabbling of a family of Nords is not Do'azda's concern, really.

---

It is not all that surprising that she is confronted sooner rather than later, all things considered. She's searching the store rooms one more time, trying to convince herself that she can take more than she already has. Do'azda thinks that even a few of the things here that she didn't even think to take… could be very useful. Silverware, good silverware, is not exactly cheap… even if it is living up to her people's reputations to take that.

The whole place smells a bit musty, and there are chairs and spare blankets, and more, and all of it lit by the light of a few candles Do'azda has taken the time to light. It is there that [W] finds her, and she is not all that surprised.

Sigri has changed into a gown, having found it somewhere, though Do'azda cannot remember seeing it. The gown is blue, and remarkably soft looking, and Sigri smiles a little. Her hair is done up now into a bun, exposing more of a soft, rounded face and blue eyes that seem even more shocking. She smells of flowers, and that means there must be a bottle of perfume that they'd somehow missed.

Do'azda has a lot of questions, but Sigri speaks quickly, "Dragonborn. Do'azda, thank you for releasing me."

"She appreciates your thankfulness," Do'azda says, carefully.

"When I saw how powerful you were, how strong, how… something. It was a revelation. It made me want to reach out and… and…" she reaches her hand out as she says it.

Do'azda has never quite seen lust for power be quite so literal, but she understands it. Sigri is shaking, and the storage room almost seems small. But she's shaking not with fear but with desire. "Please, now, before my father has to return…"

Do'azda stares into those eyes, and then at those lips, and at that body, and thinks of Stalleo somewhere in his camp, waiting for the all clear… but also of what is in front of her.

And there is definitely something in front of her.

What to do?

[] [Offer] Agree to Sigri's… offer, and have some fun. May annoy Stalleo if he finds out, will somewhat delay leaving. Could, or could not, have other consequences one way or another after Do'azda is long gone. (Unlocked by Tangled Tails)
[] [Offer] Don't agree, just hurry out of the fort as soon as you are able. Will put out Sigri, otherwise unlikely to have much effect either way.

VM AN: Update! Really genuinely sorry about the wait on this one.

TL AN: Do'azda making responsible, mature decisions.