Of Snow and Bone - Part Six

22nd of Last Seed, 4th Era 201

I awoke shivering violently, and quickly wrapped my cloak about me and threw more branches onto the fire, blowing life into the coals. Before long the twigs of the branches caught flame, and then the fire burst into life. I warmed myself, flaking some salt fish off into my pewter cup and making a simple boiling broth, the liquid warming me from within as the fire warmed from without.
The sky was covered in clouds again, a swift and heavy snow falling. Impossible to tell what time it was, though judging from the razor chill in the air, it was either very late or very early. The chill was always deepest then, although I was grateful for the cloud cover and snow. Clear skies were always the coldest, by far.

After a time spent warming myself and stretching cold-stiffened joints and muscles, I packed my gear, scuffed out the fire with a pang of regret, and looked about. The realization hit me like a warhammer; I was lost. No idea which way the path to Morthal was, whatever tracks I had left were obscured by the dark and the freshly fallen snow. I leaned back against a tree, battered shield in hand.
When I had come to camp here, I had set up my fire, and then my tarp. And when I had set my tarp, I had set the open side facing south, and had gone south from the path. Looking at the bed of pine boughs I had made to lay on have a fairly clear north-south line. With a smile, my feet took me north, and soon found the windswept stones of the path.

By the time I arrived at Morthal, the skies had cleared somewhat, but I could see neither Masser nor Secunda. Several men were arrayed in front of the Jarl's longhouse, armed against the night with torches. They spoke with distrust of the Jarl, and an unknown wizard. When I spoke with the man who appeared to be the leader of the band, he spoke vaguely of their Jarl's visions, a house that had burned down, and a wizard hired by the Jarl.
Not wishing to offend him and make myself unwelcome, I said nothing and headed to the inn. Perhaps the innkeeper would have more details, they were always full of gossip, and why not? The drink they served loosened men's tongues, and an inn gave men a feeling of safety that loosened them even further.
The innkeeper, a Redguard woman, explained that the burned house belonged to a man named Hroggar. His wife and child had died in the fire, and the very next day Hroggar had moved in with a woman. Rumors abound, but it seemed that none could prove foul play. When the Redgaurd mentioned the Jarl might be willing to pay to find the truth of the matter, my interest peaked. Perhaps the trip would prove worthwhile after all.

I sat by the fire and sipped spiced wine till morning light, and then a while longer before setting out to speak with the Jarl. A crone of a woman, withered and grey, she spoke in strange ways. It was easy to see why the townsfolk mistrusted her. She agreed to pay me if I could find the truth of the fire, though, whether Hroggar was innocent or guilty. I set out with the sun shining brightly to search for clues.
Of all things, I found the ghost of a child in the ruins of the house, plain as day. I can only assume it was Hroggar's child; she bid me to play a game of hide and seek with her, but I must wait till nightfall, when the 'Other' came out. When I informed the Jarl of this, she suggested I search for the child at the graveyard, come dark. I could gather no further details, and headed back to the inn to whittle away the time.

I spent the day tending to my equipment, and found an alchemists shop to sell the things  I had gathered in Nightcaller Temple. A woman outside, calling herself "Idgrod the Younger", asked that I deliver a letter to Whiterun. Seeing no reason to decline, I gave her my word I would deliver it, though it may take some time before I was back that way.
After a long and boring day, night fell at last, a light snow with it. I did not find Hroggar's daughter at the graveyard, but instead a woman digging up a grave! I was attacked on sight, her magic draining strength from me, but I slew her quickly with a blow to the neck, nearly severing her head. The voice of Hroggar's daughter spoke to me from the coffin, claiming the woman I had slain was Lalette, and she had 'Kisses her on the neck.'
Then a man with a torch ran up, out of nowhere, saying that Lalette must have been a vampire. Dark and foul creatures, but it explained the magic the woman had used on me. The man named himself as Thonnir, and claimed Laelette was his wife. He thought she had gone off to join the Stormcloaks, and it seems she had spoked with Alva beforehand. Alva, Thonnir told me, was the woman Hroggar had gone to as soon as his wife and child had burned.

This was all very strange. When I suggested that Alva had perhaps turned Laelette into a vampire, he flew into a rage, screaming there was no way I could prove such a thing to the Jarl. I spoke with the Jarl, explaining what had happened, and requested permission to search Alva's home, which she gave, provided a guard went with me.
When we entered the home, Alva and Hroggar flew into a rage and began attacking us. They proved remarkably hard to put down, even though they wore nor armor and were armed only with a dagger and an axe, respectively. In the cellar, we found an empty coffin and Alva's journal. It detailed the meeting of Alva with a man named Movarth, her turning, and the events of the fire and Laelette. Movarth had plans to turn the entire town of Morthal into the slaves of his 'coven', to milk them of blood like cattle!
It made my stomach turn, to think of such things. I thanked the guard for his help, and we ran to give word to the Jarl. She gathered a band of armed men, her guards waking them in the night, and not so much asked as demanded that I lead them. With little choice, we made our way to the cave where Movarth was suspected to have made his lair.

"Killing works ahead" I told them, since I assumed I ought to give some sort of speech. That was what commanders always did, and it seemed expected of me. "Dark things. Inhuman things. Shove your torches in their face and then cut their fucking heads off!" I thrust my sword into the air dramatically. The five men and women followed suit, with a series of "Aye!"'s and "Yar!"'s. I had my doubts and of them would make it out alive; the Jarl had no deigned to send any guards with us, despite my urgings. She claimed they were needed to protect the town.
I turned to the entrance of the cave, let out a sigh, and started towards the entrance.
"Um... this looks pretty scary." one of them spoke. I turned to find them all rooted in place. "It does look dangerous." another chimed in. Fear spread across their faces, all except Thonnir. "Cowards!" he accused. "But they're... they're vampires!" stuttered another towns person. "To Oblivion with this. I'm going back to town." said the first. With that, they began to turn and walk away.
"I will come with you." Thonnir told me, and with a sigh I shook my head. "You don't even have armor. Go back with the others, I'll take care of this myself." Thonnir nodded regretfully, and I made my way into the dim caverns. At first there were only spiders, easily cut down, but then two men rushed from up from deeper in the caves, one armed with a mace, the other a battle axe. Their blows were slow and clumsy, and with some quick footwork I took them down easily enough.
Movarth was another story, quick and agile, sapping my life with his magic. It took many blows to fell him, and by the time he finally gave in to death I had cut him nearly to ribbons. I had to down several potions just to survive the fight. The remaining foes were much more easily slain, clumsy and untrained. One of them had a quiver of steel-headed arrows, which I took and swapped my iron ones. It was done, though, and Morthal was safe. I wondered if Jarl Idgrod of Morrthal would be as ungrateful as Jarl Skald of Dawnstar. It would not have surprised me.
The Jarl was generous enough, though, and gave me a bounty of coin worth six-hundred septims. She mentioned that I looked ill, and I admitted I did not feel well. Suggesting that I had perhaps caught the beginnings of vampirism, I promised I would visit the alchemist first thing in the morning for a cure, and headed back to the inn for a rest.