Changeling Escapades: Skyrim

by Erised the ink-moth


Heroes don't know fear

Fenora wanted to get out of Morthal and head to Ustengrav as quickly as possible, and this feeling was understandable. Their experience in the small town had so far been less than stellar, and somehow it seemed they’d avoided the worst of what lurked in the shadows.

Out of nowhere, Stross started frantically spouting some wild story while they were still finishing breakfast. The changeling talked so fast that Fenora could barely catch what he was saying, and the bits she did understand sounded unlikely enough to be made up. She argued back and forth with him on several points, and had an especially hard time believing she was put in a trance and couldn't remember anything that happened. But eventually Stross convinced her... mostly by hugging her legs and whining until she did.

She wished it was just some stupid prank though. The alternative was a lot worse.

“We don't have changelings here Stross. We've got vampires instead.” She said before getting up from the table. “And if that's what she said, 'quote unquote', then there's more than just Alva. Frickin’ bloodsuckers… as if we needed more incentive to get moving."

Fenora paced for a couple seconds, thinking it over and weighing her options. "I still need to brew up a couple potions for the road; hopefully this alchemy shop has a mixing station. Just give me like fifteen minutes and we can be gone after that.”

With that, she shoved her way out the door and made a beeline for the shop known only as the Thaumaturgist’ Hut.

Fenora had never actually met a vampire before, though she’d heard stories here and there. In the stories the vampires always had some strange and mythical power, like being able to turn into clouds of mist, freeze a person's blood inside their veins, or even swallow a man whole. Until now she had thought most of them were exaggerated for the sake of the storytellers, but this ‘Alva’ person really did have them all in a helpless trance…

That was terrifying. She didn’t want to think about her non-existent odds against someone like that. Better to heed the warning she gave to Stross and get out as quickly as they could.

But unfortunately, Stross had other ideas.

“So… we’re not going to stay behind and protect the town?”

Fenora felt herself slump. Somehow she knew this was going to come up.

“Hmm, well let’s see…” she tapped her chin in an exaggerated thinking pose, “we could continue on to Ustengrav so I can complete my dragonborn training, and give me a chance in Oblivion of beating Alduin to save the entire world and everyone living in it. OR we could waste our time saving one tiny village. That is a tough choice.”

Stross blinked his eyes. “Uh… are you being sarcastic? I can't tell when you're being sarcastic.”

Fenora sighed into her palm. “Look, if you’re so worried just go over to the Jarl’s house and tell them about it. Let these lazy people sort out their own problems for once.”

Stross wanted to argue further, but couldn’t find the drive to. Instead he decided to just do what she suggested and talk to the Jarl. He glanced over his shoulder sadly, seeing her and Lydia disappear into the potion shop, and continued to warn the town of the danger without them.


The Jarl’s house wasn’t that hard to find, just look for the largest building in town. The only problem was getting to it, as it seemed he wasn’t the only one wanting to see the Jarl today. A large group of men had gathered in front of the doors, their frustration flaring in his changeling vision. It was clear the only thing keeping them from simply storming the Jarl’s home was the lone armored man blocking them from the doorway.

He had the advantage of a muscular build and the height granted by a small set of stairs as he tried to address them as calmly as he could.

“Everyone calm yourselves, you’ve already been assured there’s nothing to fear.”

“Shor’s piss there's nothing to fear!” one man in the crowd spat. “Ravencrone’s done nothing but sit on her aging hind! The death of Hroggar’s wife and child was written off as nothing but an accident, and now she allows that damned wizard into our town.”

“And what of the noises from the marsh?” another asked, “They’re getting louder and louder every night. This last night I could barely sleep.”

“How are we to feel safe in our own homes?!”

As the people’s concerns mounted, their voices only grew louder, until they were shouting and shaking their fists in the air.

“Please, enough of this already.” Aslfur had to raise his voice over theirs, “I’ve already told Jarl Idgrod of your concerns. Return to your homes or go about your business. We’re already doing all we can.”

There was a moment of tension before the group dispersed, annoyed and unsatisfied, but knowing it wouldn't help to demand answers from a Jarl that had no anwsers for them. Aslfur let out a breath of relief as he watched them go.

It was then that Stross picked his way forward, if there was a best time to talk with him, it was now.

“Hmm, what is it outsider?” Aslfur asked the cloaked bosmer boy.

“Can I talk to the Jarl? It’s important.”

Aslfur looked him over a moment, then glanced back at the remnants of the crowd, the people of Morthal returning unsatisfied to their lives.

“Alright. Come inside.”


The interior of Highmoon Hall was much like any other important building in Skyrim, built solidly out of stone and wood, with banners representing the Hold lining the walls. It had a few differences that made it unique though, such as how the light filtered in through the tiny windows near the roof to give the whole place an odd pale glow. All along the walls were the mounted bodies of lesser pests, such as skeevers and mudcrabs, making it feel slightly like a hunter’s den.

The people were different too, as Stross found out as soon as he entered.

“You will not disrespect Jarl Idgrod while in this hall! DO WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING?!”

Stross felt his legs go weak as the giant man yelled down at him. “Okay I admit it! I'm the one who left the seat up! Please don’t hit me!” he begged.

“Gorm, ease up. He’s not one of those troublemakers.” Aslfur said before turning to Stross. “I apologize for that. Gorm is very loyal to Idgrod and her family, and no one has had anything nice to say to her as of late. Many are unsatisfied with the Jarl’s seemingly lax decisions and reliance on her visions. But she leads us well, as she always has.”

“Do not speak about me as though I were not present.” came an aged, yet calm and intelligent voice. Idgrod leaned back on her throne in the center of the room. “I thought these years of being my steward and my husband would have taught you that.”

She then turned her eyes to Stross. “Now… what can the Jarl of Morthal do for you on this lovely day?”

Stross approached her and took a knee.

Idgrod rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother with all that ceremony nonsense, boy. Just tell me what’s the matter.”

“U-uh. O-okay.” Stross said and unsurely went back to standing up. “I think that Morthal is in danger.”

Idgrod barked a laugh. “Well of course Morthal’s in danger! I’d wager all the other holds of Skyrim are in danger too, not to mention the rest of the world beyond. Being in danger is part of being alive, kid.” She said before putting on a more serious look. “Or were you referring to something specific?”

“Alva is a vampire. And I think she’s planning to do something bad to the people here.” Stross explained.

Idgrod raised a brow at this. “That’s quite a bold claim. I assume you have some evidence to back it up?”

“She told me herself! I… think she didn’t want me to interfere with what she’s doing, so she tried to scare me off.” Stross said, making it a point to hide what he was.

Jarl Idgrod rubbed her forehead with a thumb. “I meant good evidence ya nitwit! I might think that Alva’s a scheming, family-killing whore, but just thinking it don’t make it true. If this is all, I’ll consider your warning noted. Be on your way.”

“Wait!” Stross pleaded, “I know she’s a vampire! I just want to help. Please!”

Idgrod sighed and motioned for Gorm to step down. “Kid, I can tell your heart’s in the right place, but my hands are tied here. If you’re really so determined to prove that conniving harlot’s guilt, then maybe you can look around Horggar’s old house for clues, or question some of the townspeople. The guards didn’t find anything though, so don’t hope for too much.”

“Okay... I'll do that. Thank you.” Stross said with a nod. “You won’t regret this.”

“Don’t step on any toes while you’re out there!” Idgrod called as Stross dashed off to start playing detective.

Silence returned to Highmoon Hall after the outsider left. Gorm went back to his position and leaned against a wooden support beam. Meanwhile, Aslfur stood next to his Jarl, his wife, wanting to speak up, but not knowing how to begin.

“I’m getting that feeling from you again dear.” Idgrod gave him a casual sideways glance. “You know you can speak your mind around me.”

“Why did you allow that outsider to do this? I know you have a dislike of Alva, but you’ve never allowed your personal feelings to influence your decisions, not ever before. It seems so unlike you.” Aslfur said worriedly.

Idgrod closed her eyes. “I had a vision Aslfur… weeks before the fire that took Hroggar’s wife and child I saw it. I saw Morthal, a grey shriveled husk of a town about to be swallowed up in a river of blood. More than that though, I felt something. I felt a presence I thought I’d never feel again. This is the first time I’ve heard anyone even mention the word ‘vampire’, and I hope that elf boy is wrong. But if he’s not… Divines help us all.”

The door to the hall opened again and Stross peeked his head in. “So uh… I just realized, I don’t have a clue about anything that happened here.”

Idgrod rubbed her eyes. “Divines help us anyway.” she groaned.


“They laughed at me... they said only a crazy person would carry around twice their weight in random plants and animal parts! Well who’s crazy now?!” ~ Eluara Tandis – crazy person

Fenora stared at the flames licking the bottom of a glass bowl full of troll fat, waiting for the chunks to turn into a viscous slime. In the meantime she’d been idly grinding a handful of bear claws into a fine powdery dust. A bowl of egg-whites from a rock-warbler egg was sitting nearby, ready to be added to the mix. Normally the final mixture would have to be diluted with water after it cooled, but that would take almost an hour. Instead she’d just bottle the concentrate and finish it later.

That is… if the frickin’ troll fat would hurry up and finish melting already!

“My thane, do you think it was wise to send Stross off on his own?” Lydia asked. “The people of Morthal are rather infamous for being… unwelcoming.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, you filthy outsider!?” the shopkeeper screamed.

Fenora kept watching the troll fat boil. “Stross is smart. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Stross is optimistic and puts too much faith in others. He’s definitely not going to be fine. In fact I’m counting on it.

“He’ll probably go straight to whoever’s in charge and get turned away.”

He’ll probably reveal him true form to the townsfolk in a desperate attempt to make them believe him, and get cornered by an angry mob.

“I’ll say I told him so, and then we’ll leave and go to Ustengrav like we were supposed to be doing.”

Then I’ll swoop in and save him, tell him they're a lost cause, and we run for our lives to Ustengrav.

“And best of all, we won’t have to deal with any vampires.”

…And I won’t have to die fighting an enemy I couldn't possibly beat.

Silence returned to the Thaumaturgist’s Hut. Fenora carefully moved the bowl of troll fat off the heat and swished it around a bit. Satisfied that it was right consistency, she added in the powdered claws and started stirring them in. Next was the warbler egg, and she had to mix it in quickly or else the residual heat would cook it.

Now she just had to bottle it.

“My thane…” came Lydia’s concerned voice. “Are you afraid?”

Fenora jerked, fumbling the bottles in her hand and nearly dropping one. “What? No, of course not.” She laughed. “I mean… why would I be? I’m the dragonborn!”

She placed the five bottles in a row and started to fill the first. “It’s not like there’s anything I can’t handle if I put my all into it. I have to save the world from Alduin after all, a few vampires are nothing compared to that.”

One bottle filled and corked, four to go.

“I mean sure they have that stupid thing they do that turns our minds into sludge before we can even react, but I’ve had worse.”

Two filled.

“I’d just have to catch them off guard and hit them with my sword before they can use it. I can’t exactly do anything else against them, but that's no problem.”

Three.

“What else am I supposed to do anyway? I can’t counter their magic... or whatever it is. There's no way I could stop them from putting me in a trance and doing whatever they wanted to me. They could drink all my blood, killing me in an instant. Or maybe they’d like to have a dragonborn as their eternal servant, hunting down more people for them to feed on. Or heck they could dress me up in a sailor suit and have me sing Mirai Start for all I- OW! Fuck…”

Fenora didn’t realize that in her rambling she filled the bottle too much, and the scalding liquid overflowed onto her hand.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck.” she cursed under her breath. She frowned at the burn mark on her hand. She hadn't realized it until now, how vulnerable she was. She'd slaughtered her way through bandits and undead, killed a dragon, nearly been killed by a hagraven and got right back up like it was nothing. It took being rendered helpless by vampire magic for her to finally see herself as the glass cannon she was. Her hand became a fist that slammed down on the table.

“DAMMIT!”

Fenora let out a few shuddering breaths before she felt a hand gently grab onto her shoulder.

“My thane.” Lydia said soothingly. “It’s alright to be afraid.”

“How?” Fenora asked in barely a whisper, “How is it okay to be afraid when everyone’s counting on you? Everyone in Skyrim is depending on me to save them. Even Stross looks at me and sees a hero that isn’t afraid of anything. How is it okay to show anyone I’m weak, that I'm not invincible? It's so much easier to pretend I don't care enough to do anything... than to admit I'm not strong enough face what's ahead.”

Steel breastplate pressed into Fenora’s back as Lydia pulled her into a hug. “My thane, I’m afraid every second I’m with you. Every time we face a monstrous foe, I fear for my life and for yours. Every time you lead us into some long-forgotten ruin, I fear we will not return. But I steel myself and follow you anyway, because it is my duty to protect you… and because I care about you.”

Fenora felt her eyes getting moist as Lydia continued.

“Stross cares about you as well. He doesn’t help you because he sees a hero, he help you because he sees a friend who needs it. He will not think less of you if you confide in him. I think he would prefer a hero who knows they're afraid and tries to help anyway, rather than a hero that can't be bothered to care.”

Lydia was about to pull away, but Fenora grabbed her hand before she could. “Lydia… thank you.”

Lydia smiled and sank back into the embrace. “You’re welcome Fenora.”