Tag: zana’s journal

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 30, 11th of Hearth Fire

We found Helgi’s coffin late last night. It was partially unburied—I said Stendarr’s Blessing over the poor girl just before the vampire Laelette attacked. Helgi’s ghost explained as best she could, but it was the vampire’s husband who insisted that we confront Alva and Hroggar.

In Alva’s house, after cleansing Hroggar of the vampire’s foul influence, I found her journal. She had been turned by the master vampire Movarth, and between the two of them had plotted to turn the whole cursed town into vampires. We brought the evidence to Jarl Idgrod, and she further delegated us to track down Movarth and Alva in the cave north of town, while we shall do on the morrow. I have done some preliminary investigation of the exterior of their lair to prepare.

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 28, 9th of Hearth Fire

Today, I and Kharjo, Erandur, and Anum-La set off through the marsh towards Morthal. We are all agreed that sleeping one more night in the marsh, with its many biting insects and general…squishiness…is beyond what man, mer, or beast should have to withstand. Anum-La regaled us with tales of her time among the Honored Eight—though I sense that her stories come to a sad end, she was again quite upbeat.

In Morthal, I sold off a number of potions; mostly poison abatements, for I suspect that the villagers find these useful in living among spiders and those nasty chauruses. In wandering about the village, Kharjo pointed out a burned-down house. Anum-La said there was some unpleasant business involving a married couple and another woman; something scandalous and tragic, for the wife and child were killed in the fire. The Morthal guards corroborated Anum-La’s story, and pointed us in the direction of Jarl Idgrod.

The Jarl of Morthal is an unusual woman. She claims to have visions—a thing that would have, once, turned my head and prompted me to consider unnatural influence. But she seems a good woman, and a strong Jarl. Better than the irritating Skald, certainly. Jarl Idgrod tasked us with investigating the fire, because I am a Vigilant, and we are expected to investigate all sorts of strange events.

And this is certainly strange—as I write this, sitting on the steps of the burned house, a shimmering figure has begun to appear in the ruins…

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 27, 8th of Hearth Fire

We were attacked by a horrible insect in the marsh today. It spits like a frostbite spider, but its bite is far worse. Erandur was bitten very badly on the leg. I was hurrying to heal him when an Argonian joined the fray alongside Kharjo; between the two beasts they were able to kill the nasty creature. The Argonian said her name is Anum-La, and she’s been encountering these ‘chauruses’ more and more these days. She is a cheerful warrior, though a bit sarcastic. In thanks for her help in exterminating the chaurus, I offered her a spot at our campfire, which she accepted. I will ask her if she would like to accompany us tomorrow.

Kharjo is telling Erandur some stories of Elsewyr. I admit that after a couple of days in the marsh, traversing hot desert sands does sound fairly appealing. Perhaps someday Keeper Carcette will send me to another province?

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 26, 7th of Hearth Fire

After explaining things to Jarl Skald, a quite unpleasant and warlike man, and being not-entirely-assured that he would settle the burials of the priests and orcs, we set off. I know the Pale best, as do Erandur and Kharjo, and since I’ve encountered necromancers at Fort Snowhawk it seems likely there are more accursed folks in this hold. I’ve also been wanting to return to the marsh between Morthal and Solitude to gather plants. Kharjo keeps muttering under his breath that this swamp is no place for a desert-dweller, but is using his keen eyes to spot the well-camouflaged canis roots for me.

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 25, 6th of Hearth Fire

I have spoken with a Daedric Prince and lived to tell the tale.

There are bodies that must be seen to, scattered all throughout the temple. Erandur will ask the Jarl to have the guards attend to their burials in the morning, and then he is joining Kharjo and me…after today, it didn’t feel right to simply leave him all alone with his Divine. Not when he’s worked so hard to rejoin the world again.

I drank the Dreamstride, and I saw through what I know now to be Erandur’s eyes—the attack on the temple and the release of the Miasma. I saw his friends, his brothers…the defenders of the Staff of Corruption. Erandur is a powerful mage, but even his spells faltered when it came to facing his brothers. Kharjo and I had to deal with them, leaving Erandur to destroy the staff.

Which is when I heard Vaermina’s voice in my head. She tried to tempt me with her power, telling me that Erandur would betray us and seize the staff for himself. And while I did not trust him before…I certainly trusted a Daedric Prince far, far less.

Most of the villagers have gone to sleep at last. I think I don’t need to return to the Hall immediately; after facing Vaermina, we can certainly take on a few smaller concerns in the Pale.

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 24, 5th of Hearth Fire
It has been a very…busy two days. I left the Hall yesterday morning for Dawnstar, making a stop with Ahkari’s caravan. I gave Kharjo his Moon Amulet, and he was very grateful—he offered to travel with me as my personal guard, if I wished. I thought that without knowing what menace I might be facing in Dawnstar it might be a good idea to have a skilled warrior at my side, and so I agreed to have him accompany me in my journeys. I told him he could leave when he wanted, though; I would not want my Khajiit friends to be without his protection for long!

We walked on to Dawnstar, and I asked around about the nightmares for a while. I was eventually directed to talk to the priest of Mara staying at Windpeak Inn by one of the miners. Kharjo and I met Erandur, the priest, who explained that he believed the nightmares were caused by something that happened at Nightcaller Temple—something having to do with Vaermina. He asked if I, as a Vigilant of Stendarr, would aid him in dealing with the situation, and of course I told him that was why I had been sent in the first place. He was gracious enough to pay for our rooms at the inn last night, and we set off for the accursed temple this morning.

Which…well.

Erandur is certainly a priest of Mara. No devotee of a Daedric Prince could receive her blessing, as he did. But he was also once a priest of Vaermina. I suppose the signs were there even from the start—he knew way too much about the temple’s layout and the Staff of Corruption at its heart. And its history—why would a priest of Mara know anything about the Miasma? But I believe—and this may be because of what I have learned about how Keeper Carcette truly sees the world—that Erandur is a good man.

He didn’t want to endanger me with the Dreamstride; he thought that Vaermina would know I am one of Stendarr’s chosen. But who better to face her realm than one blessed with Stendarr’s infinite mercy?

We haven’t found the book explaining how to access the Dreamstride yet, though. Kharjo and I are tired; Erandur thinks that we will be able to sleep unaffected by the nightmares. Our bedrolls are laid out in a corner away from the dead. I am not certain that I will be able to fall asleep despite Erandur’s surety; this temple is thoroughly unnerving.

[time passes]

[there appear to be several pages ripped out before this entry]

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 22, 3rd of Hearth Fire

Today is Tales and Tallows. For the first time since I can remember celebrating the day, I have broken the traditional silence and talked. It is perhaps a sign of how the Hall has changed that no one among my fellow Vigilants—we who are supposed to guard against necromancy, today of all days—blinked an eye when I spoke to them.

I have spent the last two weeks studying the necromancer’s robe and staff that I brought back from Fort Snowhawk. That, and making potions, of course—more of the same, mixing snowberries and purple mountain flowers to resist against the cold. I will take some to sell to Ahkari tomorrow, I think. Keeper Carcette is sending me to Dawnstar—something strange is happening to the folk there. We are getting reports of insomnia and terrible nightmares. Carcette suspects Daedric influence.

I am glad to know that there are still some abominations against which we will stand.

Journal of Zanamivir, Vigilant of Stendarr
Day 7, 19th of Last Seed

Kharjo and the caravan were not near Dawnstar this morning. So I came home.

Here is the conversation I had with Keeper Carcette. I am…at a loss.

“Keeper, when I was in Solitude, I went to the Blue Palace,” I said.

“Did you enjoy it?” Carcette smiled. “I remember my first visit to Solitude. The buildings seemed so tall—“

“Keeper.” I bit the inside of my lip, worried. “The court wizard, I think she’s a vampire.”

“Oh, Sybille?” Carcette patted my hand absently, like she did when I was a child. “Yes, of course she is. Did you see her teeth?”

I floundered about for words, and came up with the obvious. “You knew? But—“

“The look on your face,” Carcette said fondly. “Just like Isran’s, when he found out. Yes, dear child. Sybille Stentor is a vampire. A very old one, though she’d never admit it. Now, you want to know why the Vigilants haven’t exposed her and, what? Cleansed her?”

I could only nod. The light from the shrine seemed suddenly cold and distant as my Keeper spoke.

“She keeps the other vampires in Haafingar in line. Some vampires can be quite useful to us alive, Vigilant Zanamivir.”

I retreated to my room, shaken, to write these lines.

Had Isran’s same discovery been what drove him—and Celann—to leave?

Can it be true, that my order has grown weak and tolerant of abominations?

What am I supposed to do now?