Shame for the Fallen: White Ridge Barrow and Dukaan

Imperial Scholar Lucius Flavius

In the wake of our expedition of Bloodskal Barrow we were avid to learn more about the dragon priests of Solstheim, Zahkriisos was quite different from the ones on the mainland and we questioned if he was simply unique or if all the other priests would follow a similar suit. Thus we collected all we could on the history and lore of Solstheim to find any clues of the resting place of these other priests. Finally we were able to find a collected work of legends and myths that between tales of a bloodmoon and a mysterious traitor we found what we were looking for; a crypt by the name of White Ridge Barrow located in the north of the island. With luck it wasn’t buried deep under ash.

We trecked through the northern ice fields following a rough map that had been drawn in the pages of the tome we were using. Finally after fording a glacial stream we came across an unassuming entrance to a Nordic barrow. Much like ones we had seen back in Skyrim, but of lesser men, we took note of this. Upon entering the barrow we found the bodies of several reavers and vagabonds and hoped that they hadn’t plundered this location to the point where we could not learn anything. Something should also be said for the number of unusual spiders that infested the place, cobwebs and egg sacs littered the halls, the answer to this was to be found further in though. Before descending down a staircase deep into the ground we noted some unusual architecture. Two doors side by side lead one around in a circle and at the meeting point was the door leading down. I have encountered this in the wilds of Skyrim as open air tombs, but never like this as part of the stairwell. It would become more atypical as we continued on.

We came upon a large concourse after lowering half of a bridge, the coinciding half on the other was still suspended and we tried in vain for nearly an hour to figure out how to lower it before we finally decided to move on. We followed this large hallway as it took a right, but we halted when we saw that the entire hallway was listing to the left. It was if the whole ground had shifted to one side. This was perhaps attributed to an earthquake at some point in time, the eruption of Red Mountain has certainly left its mark in some unforeseen ways. We became uncertain of the stability of the ruin but decided to press on, albeit very cautiously. After snaking our way through a carved out tunnel we came to a new section of the tomb, praying a collapse hadn’t blocked the way. Something I had noticed in this first area was a complete lack of entombed draugr, in such a large ruin built by or for a dragon priest, it was bewildering.

The Sanctum opened up into yet another large chamber, it appeared as though the shifting of the ground and rent a large chasm through the middle. Fortunate for us a pillar had fallen across and provided a makeshift bridge. A side chamber opened up on the flank of the hall and it was here we found the source of our spider infestations. It appeared that a brother sister pair was experimenting with ways on how to create scrolls that could spawn spiders. They had several recipes listed and our mages had to be dragged away from the contraption. Perhaps they can come back and further study these spider scrolls but I was intent on finding out what lie at the end of this barrow. A line from a journal we found said, “blocked off room in the main chamber. She knows we specifically sealed it after hearing odd chanting coming from that direction.” That spurred me on to reach the end quickly, there might just be a word wall in the depths. I must note here that there were no draugr buried in this section of the ruin, what this says about the barrow I have yet to discover. Finally we came to a set of iron doors and procceded inside. Nearing the edge of a overhang we found exactly what we were looking for. In front of a word wall lay a sarcophagus that had been opened, nearby ash, armor and a mask.

Noble Nord, remember these words Of the Hoar-Father: (a) warrior fights his (unknown) evil, but (a) king unleashes (unknown) on his enemy.

So the word wall read, again more folk wisdom being passed from generation to generation. Next I located the mask of the priest. While the mask appeared to be fashioned out of ebony, it color was that of a milky white. Its appearence was identical to Zahkriisos, large eyes and carved tentacles made up its form. Its enchantment matched its color, whomever whore it would find that their frost incantations would multiply in damage and that they would be substantially shielded from the cold as well. The name of this mask and priest was “Dukaan” which literally means “Dishonor.” This is name struck me as perplexing, why would such a priest be buried in such a manner if he himself was named dishonor? The answer made me reevaluate Dukaan and to a further extent the priests of Solstheim.

What if Dukaan had been a lesser priest either in Skyrim or here on the island. Any dragon priest would have held a place of prestige, and they would have owned this to the dragons. I hold that Dukaan held another title or name earlier in life, but after a betrayal or tortious act, he was cast out and damned with the name “Dishonor.” I believe that Dukaan followed a different path, chose to serve someone or something else rather than the dragons. His mask puzzled me though, surely he would have been stripped of his original (if he held one at all.) So how did he acquire this new one that is so different from the priests of Skyrim proper? His new master may have granted it to him. I believe he harkened to the name of dishonor and that became his new role in life. Whom then did he serve, if not the dragons? The answer was right behind me.

Upon a pedestal lay the answer, a black book, containing the same manner of evil and fiendishness. I had hoped I had seen the last of these, for I now know who created them. After finding the first book in Bloodskal Barrow I investigated what manner it was and its origin. The truth sent a chill down my spine. Hermaeus Mora, the Daedric Prince of knowledge, secrets and fate. He was the one who allowed these books into the world for his own nefarious ends. I have resolved never to open these books, lest I am tempted by Mora’s secrets. Yet a myriad of questions now arise. What are artifacts of Hermaeus Mora doing in the possession of dragon priests? Did both of these priests forsake the dragons and choose instead to serve Mora? Did all the priests of Solstheim choose this path? Now the only thing I feel is a burning desire to get to the bottom of this mystery, but I feel like the danger has increased ten fold. Mora preys on those lusting for secret knowledge, and here I find myself doing the same...