It's good to be home. Relatively speaking of course. I suppose when you've been traveling across a foreign land for a month, having a roof over your head in the city you happen to be Thane of is a good deal. Kharjo is settling in nicely, making small talk with Lydia. The guards outside had thought of giving my fellow Khajiit some trouble, until I decided to pull my rank on them. "What's that, you've been a guard here how long?" "Sorry I didn't catch that, couldn't hear you over the sound of how I was made Thane of Whiterun after being here a day."
Being an ass never felt so good.
Ah but I'm sure you are eager to know how I came to be back in Whiterun, my dear journal. There wasn't much to be done in Morthal, other than this business about a house fire and a suspicious jerk that got over it pretty quickly. Kharjo and I investigated the burnt husk of what I'm sure was once a cozy home. I swear to you, the smell of burnt flesh was still thick, despite having been told it had been some time since the fire. I moved to a part of the house where the stench was most powerful, and then.... a voice. It spoke to me, as a lost child would. And there before my eyes emerged the ghostly apparition of a small female child. She asked if I was a stranger, and I tried my best not to frighten the ghost...as odd as that sounds. She wouldn't tell me who burned the house down, or if her father was responsible....though she spoke of waking to smoke and fire, and trying to hide, and then becoming very sleepy and cold. Such accounts left me with a profound sadness. The child, Helgi, told me if I wanted to know more I would have to find her after dark, as someone else was looking for her. Ominous.
With not much else to do, I napped until nightfall, whereupon we set out looking for where the girl could be hiding. It didn't take long for Kharjo to point out a small pathway outside of town leading to a vista. We were ready for what awaited us. There in a clearing was a dug up coffin, presumably Helgi's, and a dark shadow looming over it. The shadow turned at our approach - it was a female...with eyes like the dead of night, and sharp white fangs. A vampire. I was frozen in momentary shock as the unholy monster shrieked and charged us. Luckily for me Kharjo had no qualms about shoving his sword down the vampire's throat. I approached the coffin to hear a familiar voice. Helgi spoke of the truth, how the vampire Laelette, apparently a resident of the town, had tried to turn Helgi into a vampire but failed, burning the house down in the promise. Another name popped up - Alva. She was the woman Helgi's father had taken a liking to quite quickly, and as it happened Laelette had a key to Alva's house. A quick talk with Laelette's husband confirmed my fears. She was thought to have left to join the Stormcloaks long ago, but had been seen in Alva's company before disappearing.
Armed with a key and shrouded by the night, I crept into Alva's house. Pretty sneaky... or so I thought, as I turned to find Hrogger, Helgi's father waiting for me with a crazed look in his eye. Words were not exchanged, excluding a well placed 'fus' and 'roh'. So now I, Esias, have just murdered a person in their own home. Sort of. I'd plead self defense but I wasn't sure if he was thinking the same thing. I decided to press onward, certain that my actions would justify themselves in due time. And so it was in the basement that actions became justified. One coffin, with one journal, belonging to a one Alva. In it she described her plans to assimilate with the town and the evil plans that followed. Under the guidance of a master vampire named Morthal, they were going to turn several of the guards to vampires, and would then hold the town as some sort of feeding farm. Alva had put Hrogger under her spell, but was attracting to much attention. So he turned Laelette and had her get rid of his family, though not as she had hoped. Armed with this knowledge I roused the Jarl from her sleep and presented the damning evidence of this unholy plot. Fueled by revenge for the fallen and the lives at stake, several villagers grabbed weapons and torches and vowed to follow me into the swamp and do away with the vampire threat once and for all. That is until we found the blood soaked foreboding entrance to a very unsettling cave. I guess you can't except every villager to be a hero in disguise.
Kharjo and I descended into the depths of the cave, trying our best to gain the element of surprise. We came upon a vampire's thrall, throwing bodies into a small hole and taking whatever valuables they had. I crept forward with dagger raised, and of course Kharjo chose that moment to sneeze....this would become something of a habit as far as stealth was concerned. several other vampires and their thralls wandered the halls of this cave, and several more met their end at our blades, until finally we came upon a large hall, complete with a banquet table of human body parts. I wasted no time preparing a salvo of arrows at this supposed Master Vampire. I would not give him the chance to use any of his magic on me. Before he had even left his throne I counted four arrows sticking from his body. He rushed in my direction with a yell, only to met with Kharjo's shield in his face. I dropped from my vantage point, landing behind Morthal and showing him two fangs of my own. Two very steel fangs that happened to light people like him on fire. Kicking his corpse out of the way, I made my way to the very end of the cavern to find none other than Alva, asleep in a bed. I gave her the benefit of waking up, only so that I could press my boot against her neck to do so.
"For Helgi." was the last thing she ever heard.
And so it was that upon exiting the cave that Helgi herself appeared before me. It was time for her to join her mother and sleep forever. I told her she could rest peacefully now, for which she was very grateful. Gods grant her peace.
Compared to that our journey to Whiterun was fairly uneventful. I killed two mammoths with my bow though. But that is a tale for another time.
Actually no it's not. They were very stupid mammoths, end of story.
I think I need a drink.
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