Bump In The Night: Arlugbur II

Editor's notes are in ^[brackets]

Arlugbur II

The previous entry was a long one, reader, but well worth the read. Let me continue the tale of the mysterious Stronghold - Arlugbur.

I looked into the gaping black maw of the peak, which could have fit the berth of two mammoths at the same time. The crane creaked along, slowly pulling up what must have been an immense load. No power source was apparent on the crane, it seemed to operate solely by a mysterious force of will.

A regular adventurer would be enraptured and confounded, but I am a skilled Telvanni Spellsword, learned in the ways of the five-and-one schools^[1] of the arcane arts. I knew that some great magickal force was being exerted, as I felt it resonating within my conscious. Something was powering the crane, and raw etheral force emanated from the maw of the mountain. Of course, the only way to confirm the presence of something down there was to throw a rock down. I did not hear it land, but instead felt a deep vibration throughout the mountain.

Kargur reached the peak and was laughing that characteristic hoarse yet hearty laugh of the Orcs. "It seems you have acquainted yourself with my little project." I looked at the Orc and replied, "I must admit, you have wholly captured my attention. Please, do tell me what this source of wealth is." The Orc again laughed, "Oh, this is no source of wealth."

I inquired, "But surely it is, this must be a deep mine, the life-blood of any Stronghold." Kargur grabbed one of my shoulders with a reassuring grasp, "Rothras, Blood-Kin, this is the life-blood of my Stronghold. It is from whence all our blood comes, all our life-force, all of our sustenance. It is how we serve Malacath, eternally."

Talk of blood and eternity should have alerted me reader, but by now you must know that Kargur had grasped me with his seductive lure. I was trapped within my own body, smothered in blankets of illusory comfort.^[2] The crane stopped and I looked over at it's load, a simple bucket, brimming with a bubbling red and viscous liquid.

Kargur walked over to the bucket, grabbed it with both hands, and raised it to his lips. His viciously drank from the font, chugging it like a Nord with his mead. He set it down, his helmet and face stained red, and looked at me. "I will not feed from your mortal flesh, for I have a greater source. But you will soon learn, for his name is Mirmulnir." At this, Kargur grabbed my weak frame, and threw me into the maw.

I fell for what seemed like an eternity in the darkness before being magically slowed down and landing on a wet floor. The floor of the massive cave was edged and slated, and seemed to emanate heat. In my drunken state, I could not comprehend the implications of my descent nor my place of rest. Two blazing fires lit themselves, four paces from me. A deep rumbling resonated into words that emerged from the fires. "Beyni Ulle, Ogiim-Kargur? Ok sosaal fah wahlaan Zaam-Strunmahi."^[3]

The floor shifted and rose, and another fire lit itself under the two and spewed fire around the cave, lighting it and revealing that the fires were not fire, but eyes and a mouth. Eyes and the mouth, of a dragon. Its scales were grey-tinted brown, and while regal, it showed the wear of time with a torn wingspan and wounds across it's mottled scales. The dragon spoke more times, his fangs forming incomprehensible words I cannot remember, until he finally spoke Tamrielic.

"I see I must speak in your mortal tongue. Faaz nu zi vonmindoraan. A painful but not impossible concept, and I should clear your head of his seductive nokke. You are the first one I have seen in a long time. What year are we in?" I was simply astonished, but managed to stammer out "200, erhm, Frostfall." The dragons frame shook, and his wings unfurled in shock. "We are now in the Third Era? Dur tol ogiim, my teeth to -"

"Actually it's the Fourth Era." The dragon looked even more astonished, if his countenance could convey such emotion. His grey-brown scales seemed to ripple in fury. "I am Mirmulnir, untamed by the conquests of mortals, awaiting my lordship's return! I will not be held as the Ogiimme Zaamu - slave to the Orsi!"

"Then why do you not escape?" The dragon harshly looked at me, before emitting an almost whispered word, "Krosis."

"I am held here by duty and honor, but I am weakened by the drain of the Soslun, the Vampire. Even if I could free myself, this Strunmah is holy for it is a fane of my missing lord, Alduin. I can not leave it to the Ogiim-Kargur. That insane Soslun, he has no idea what the consumption of the Dovahsos does to his kind. He has feed for two Eras, he most certainly is stronger now than ever, but more insane than ever."

I was intrigued by the tale of Kargur gro-Rozak's capture of a dragon, and bid Mirmulnir to continue. "My capture was at the fault of those damned Dovah-Tozah, dragon hunters. They had almost killed me, and I sought to retreat to this holy fane. Sadly, when I arrived, I only saw this profaned Ogiim-Wahlaan, this Orcish Stronghold. I felt the sundered soul of another of my kin, the guardian of this fane, trapped inside this cave. I rained my Thu'um over these mortals, but when I entered this maw I realized the trap. They collapsed boulders on top of my wounded being, and rained down their magics on me. See my Sos-Grot, where the stone has been pooled in my blood." At this, Mirmulnir turned his head to a pool of the bubbling red liquid I had seen in the bucket.

"He harvests it to feed, and with it grows more detached from his Vokul-Rahi, known to us as Joor-Rel, to you as Molag Bal. With the Dovahsos he becomes attuned to the Eight-and-One, and so his Lord hates him and curses him. No surprise that he would became a nivahriin nokaan and kill his fellow Ogiimme. And so I continue to bleed into the Sos-Grot with wounds unslaad - too weak to recuperate myself."

I knew now what those other Orsimer were - illusions. All simple mirrors of the Chief. And I knew how to escape.

"Mirmulnir, mighty Dragon, I would heal your wounds if you would allow me to accompany you on your escape." The dragon looked at me with distrust, "Foolish mortal, you do not know the infinite mysteries of the Dovah's body. We are bound in time to Akatosh and Alduin, infinitely complex."

"Yes, great Dragon, I would be foolish to cast my untrained hand upon your wounds. But not so if I were to grant you my magicka to perform your tasks."

"You do not understand, I can take your magicka without your forbearance. I am dovah, and my Thu'um will bend your force unto me." The great dragon, rose up and opened it's mouth again. I prepared for death.

Mirmulnir paused and closed his mouth, before once again issuing forth a whispered word. "But, I am Mirmulnir, and I have been born of Allegiance and Loyalty. I will not sully the memory of the mighty dovah by taking your Laasjoor. Go on, give me your font and we shall escape this damnable fane and battle this maddened Orsimer."

I breathed a sigh of relief, and began to focus on the resonating energy of Mirmulnir. I raised my hands and alternating push and pulling, every movement of frame catching the waves of magicka throughout my body, and pushing it into the frame of the dovah. Blue light emanated throughout the cave, and grey sparks flew across Mirmulnir's flesh. A torn wind repaired itself, cracks issued forth from broken bones.

"Oh yes. From Krasaar to a mighty Kendov. I am Mirmulnir, I am the ally on the field, I am the strength of the vanguard, and I am the hunter of the damnable! Soon I will be kriid setol ogiim-soslun - slayer of that prison-keeper; I avenge the profane actions upon your fane, Alduin, it comes time to krii daar joor!"

Mirmulnir erupted a gout of flames from his maw before returning his gaze to me. "Come, mortal! Ride with me and see the power of the dovah that cannot be expressed in your foul tongue." I hurriedly climbed onto the slippery scales and grabbed a hold of the two horns emerging from his head. Mirmulnir coiled himself against the ground, before his legs shot himself upwards, and his wings unfurled. We rapidly ascended to the small hole, and I could not perceive how he would fit through.

Mirmulnir shouted, "Worry not mortal, I do not seek to end us. The Thu'um will be our guide!" At this, Mirmulnir shouted with a great force "Feim Zii Staadnau!" and the world around became transparent and opaque. I could see the White-Gold tower and the walls of the great Mountain, one and the same. We passed through the peak and crane and into the air, and Mirmulnir once again shouted "Gron!" The world focused into its material form and we were flying over Arlugbur.

A bolt of lightning flew past us as we circled over the mountain, and Mirmulnir roared in outrage. "Your mortal magic will not hold me, Ogiim!" With that, his wings folded in and he dived towards the giant dish that was the Chief's Longhouse. His legs stretched outwards readying for the landing, his claws grasping for purchase. They punctured into the wall of the longhouse and Mirmulnir unleashed another mighty roar. Kargur was nowhere to be seen.

"Come out, cowardly joor!"

"Be careful what you wish for, haughty dovah."

[1] The editor theorizes Rothras means the five schools of Destruction, Illusion, Conjuration, Alteration, and Restoration - and the one school of Mysticism.

[2] It is unknown to the editor how Rothras was capable of remembering the subsequent events, as reports of being seduced by vampires near universally states that the victim does not remember the events that took place while in the stupor.

[3] After multiple translation attempts, the editor has conceded that this is the product of stupor. lit. "(My) scorn infinitely, Orc-Kargur? He (will) bleed for the Slave-Mountain he has constructed."