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24 Frostfall, 4E 4

It has been two months to the day since I bade farewell to my dearest Freyja as she set sail from Windhelm, seeking archeological work in the dwemer ruins that dotted Morrowind. Though my heart drove me to go with her, to find work while she delved into the unknown, we both knew my frailty would not hold up among all the ash and soot in the air.

Still I hold on to the Sending Stone, one of the pair I enchanted and prepared for the occasion, so that we could speak in a manner faster than couriers could carry letters. I look forward to the rising of the full moon of Mass each twenty-four days, that I may charge the stone and speak with her once more.

Each month she greets me and tells me all about the things she has seen, the wonders she and her fellow scholars have uncovered. I am glad for her, but life in Markarth on my own is lonely. When we married, I had expected for her to find work in the keep’s vast Dwemer mazes, but the opportunity for pay was far greater in the east. “It is for our future”, she said, “for ourselves and our children to come”, she insisted.

I care for these things, of course, but all I want now is my wife to come home.

19 Sun’s Dusk, 4E 4

Freyja spoke to me via the stone again a few days prior, and this time she had exciting news. No vast archeological maze discovered, no grand puzzle solved. No, she told me that she had suspected for a few weeks, but she was now certain; I was to be a father to her child.

Words cannot contain my joy at the prospect! The neighboring boys all thought Arbjorn “Weak-Legs” would never become more than a growth attached firmly to a library desk, much less that he would be graced with the love of the fairest maiden in all of Skyrim, and yet here I stand on the cusp of fatherhood.

She is moving her schedule ahead and expects to be home by Sun’s Dawn of the next year. Less than four months, and under the watchful gaze of the Lover as is fitting.

I like the name Bryn. I’ve always wanted a daughter.

30 Evening Star, 4E 4

Freyja says that the days are growing longer, and that she is just as eager to return home as I am wanting for her to arrive. She says she is showing, and that the other members of the dig team have begun to poke fun, but it sounds like it all in good merriment.

Apparently the dunmer of the expedition speak of some rock in the sky making landfall and are planning on deserting before all is said and done. I’m glad that we have better tales in the north.

22 Morning Star, 4E 5

I am lost. Arkay looks upon me with pity, and I feel nothing a hollowness that will never leave.

Freyja called me in a panic, saying that the final dig site had gone completely dark even in torchlight. The Red Mountain ‘exploded’ not far from their location, sending molten rock, ash, and fumes for miles about.

The expedition was trapped in their ruin, unable to find the exit among the ash. By the Nine above, I heard her screams slowly dwindle as she suffocated.

What ills have I committed, what deeds have I done against the gods to be deserving of this? My wife was to come home, share our home, bring our child to bear, and now I lay awake in my bed, unable to drown out the screams.

I wear the Sending Stone still, clutching it as the tears fall, hoping to hear her beautiful voice once more; not in pain, but in wistful fancies of love and family to come…

I am hollow. The light in life that guided me has been extinguished, and I seem doomed to remain in the dark.

24 sunsdawn 4e5

i miss you freyja

4 Midyear, 4E 5

I found this journal at the bottom of my trunk, in no better condition than when I left it. It still reeks of all manners of liquor.

The days drag on and my mind wanders to depressive thoughts every waking moment. I rarely sleep. Food and drink have lost their luster, and the songs in the tavern sound like noise without her singing along.

She would want me to pack my bags and continue on, but it becomes difficult at times. Only the Sending Stone reminds me of the stern lecture she would give me for moping about.

I would trade a king’s ransom for one more lecture.

10 Midyear, 4E 5

I heard her voice in a dream and shot awake. Another night depraved of sleep, another night softly pawing at the empty space in my bed.

3 Sun’s Height, 4E 5
It wasn’t a dream
It was the stone
Mara as my witness the stone lit up and spoke to me in soft whispers I could hardly discern
I have to hear more
I HAVE TO HEAR HER VOICE AGAIN

13 Hearthfire, 4E 5

The stone received the energy from the rising of Masser, and I spoke into it for what seemed like hours. The moon was already rising again when I finally gave up. Perhaps it was just the grief making me hear things, but I so desperately wanted it to be true…

14 Hearthfire, 4E 5

i know you can hear me when i speak
i hear you

16 hearthfire 4e5

i do not sleep. sleep is time wasted. at night she calls to me through a dim unlit stone, beckoning me to meet her again. to meet my child.
she said her name was bryn

19 herth 4e5

she said to go to the abandoned home next to the trading company
i will obey my love
her voice is all that sustains me

-----------

locked in bal’s cage
caught by his lure
pain is my only reminder
pain reminds me that i feel at all
one day it will end and i will see her face again

Her husband was lost.

The last time the Argonian had seen her emerald scaled partner, he had been heading out to a nearby Nordic ruin, Blacknight Barrow. He was somewhat of an adventurer, and forever in the mindset that some fortune was just waiting to be unearthed.

He left on Sundas morning, with the promise to be back by sunrise the next day. It was now Turdas afternoon, and Kal had not returned.
Sick of sitting around anxiously, Va-Rai decide she needed to take action.

She travelled the short distance from her dwelling to the town, and entered the local inn. Though not busy, there were several customers present.
The Argonian assessed them all with her large reptilian eyes. She was looking for someone who looked like they could handle themselves.
"Excuse me. I'm wondering if you could help me?"
The slim male Breton whom she addressed gave Va-Rai a glance.
"Oh yes? With what?" He enquired.
"My husband is missing. He hasn't returned from Blacknight Barrow. I fear deeply for his well-being and need someone who can help me look for him. I am ill-equipped for exploring old ruins; I need someone who can hold a blade."
The man nodded.
"I'm interested. How much gold are you offering?"
Va-Rai hesitated.
"I don't have much. This is everything I have." She patted a small bag that hung across her body, the sound of coin chinking inside.
The man stood up.
"Let's go then."

Va-Rai and her new companion, Malus, began the journey towards Blacknight Barrow.
The sun was low in the sky when they arrived.
"Are you sure you want to go in?"
Va-Rai nodded.
"Yes. He's my husband."

-----------------------------------

Loredas.

Va-Rai sat in her kitchen. Though her eyes stared blankly at a pot she stirred, her mind was far away.
She needed to find someone else. Kal had still not returned, and Malus...
Her plan was the same as before. The inn.

Again, her focus was on an adventurer, warrior, or mercenary. Again, she spotted a suitable candidate.
The pitch was the same. The blade-for-hire, this time a female Nord, was offered the same unclaimed money the Breton had been due.

Once more, the two journeyed to the Barrow. This time, however, Va-Rai stopped near the entrance.
"I...I don't think I can go in this time. Last time I...I saw something. Something...unnatural."
The Nord's brow furrowed.
"Hmm. Well, whatever it is, I'll be on guard."
She grabbed her waraxe and gave a nod of confidence to Va-Rai before heading inside.

-----------------------

Middas.

She could not wait any longer. She must bring back her husband.
Another inn, a different tavern, surely there must be someone strong enough to let life return from that cursed Barrow.
Once again, a warrior heard her plight, and saw her coin, and agreed to follow in the footsteps of those before them.
Va-Rai dare not mention those that had disappeared on previous visits to the Nordic structure; to do so would surely fuel an unwillingness to assist.
At the Barrow, she uttered "Good luck" before her Redguard adventurer, Ataf, stepped into the depths.

---------------------------------

Blacknight Barrow lived up to its name. One lone, lit torch hung from a wall atop a set of steps, leading down to an ominous blackness.

Ataf picked up the burning torch, causing his steel mace to shimmer in the flickering light.

The Barrow was eerily silent. His eyes roved the corridors cautiously, his ears now so alert that he would surely hear the tiny footsteps of a mouse, should it scuttle by.

So far there was no sign of anything; no bodies, beasts, people, nothing.

Ataf passed another glowing torch, thankful of the extra light to lessen the gloom.

Several metres up ahead, the Redguard's attention was brought towards the ground.
A dark stain of red marked the grey stone floor.
He could see that the stain smeared away from his current position, continuing further down the corridor until the torchlight could no longer illuminate further.
He began to follow the trail. Clearly made by blood, the Redguard held fast to his mace.
A noise behind him made him spin round. For a second his eyes saw something approach his head before the light of the torch faded from his vision.

----------------------

The soft glow of blue flame flickered from five bowls positioned around a stone table.
The cold light caught the moisture that glistened from a fresh heart being held high in the air.
Upon the table lay a body. A lifeless Argonian, his skin and scales rotting, his eyes white and clouded.

"I have another for you, my love. This one...this one is good. Bigger than the last, just as fresh, just as strong and full of life for you, my darling Kal."

Va-Rai chanted words, words that could not be understood by most. The blue flames rose, bursting into the air as she dropped the recently beating heart into a bowl filled with various magical ingredients.

She chanted more, her body swaying from side to side rhythmically, her tail moving in synch as the magic took hold.

The blue flames lessened.

Va-Rai looked down at her love, her eyes hopeful, still just as hopeful as all the other times.
"My darling?"
Her breath quivered. A moment earlier filled with optimism, her yellow eyes now filled with woe.

How could it fail so many times? So many hearts, so many deaths. To have so much faith each time she performed the ritual, to see all the warriors, one after another, enter this fateful Barrow. Malus, the Nord, Ataf, and so many others before them. To each time look into her love's ever fading eyes, to see his physical form decay in front of her. To each time be met with such pain, such disappointing sorrow; each time was like seeing his death over and over again.

Va-Rai sighed deeply and blinked away the tears.

"Next time, my love. I promise."
She stroked her husband's cheek gently.
"Next time."

nice, madness from one and would-be necromancy from other