3. The Mountain

3. The Mountain

Jul 12, 2023

Dear Ambassador Elenwen,

I am glad that you enjoyed my last letter. I'll be leaving Riften soon and leaving my report with a courier at our nearest underground outpost. This is the story of how I followed the old man with the beard and the bag of dusty books. As I was crossing a cold river at the edge of a lake, I saw a small camp in the distance and decided to ask if they had seen the old man.

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Several ruffians jumped out as I approached and screamed that I was the Altmer bounty hunter sent after them, and then they tried to murder me.

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I destroyed them, and they never answered my question.

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However, as they were now dead, I was able to use their camping equipment.

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I started again just before dawn and made my way through a snowy valley.

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I thought I saw a unicorn, but was probably mistaken. They live in Cyrodiil.

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There was only one road, so I followed it, hoping to catch up with the person who seemed to be trying his best to thwart me. I hate it when people thwart me, Ambassador.

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A short way down the round, there were two skeletons pinned to road signs. Neither of them had beards or carried any books, and Second Archivist Eldaline has advised me that it is a waste of time to question people after they are dead.

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But I was fortunate enough to pass some travellers who said they had seem an old man of this description some time before, travelling up the mountain. I was unsure how trustworthy their account would prove, as they also claimed their house had been destroyed by a dragon, but I am not allowed to torture people out of uniform. I mean, when I am out of uniform, not when they are.

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Somehow I had come to the border of the Rift, and I began to climb the steep road.

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It began to rain and this gave me hope. Perhaps the old man has rheumatic joints and would fall over, helping me to find him faster.

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I thought for a moment that I had discovered him, because a man was sitting in the rain, surrounded by his parcels. But he was neither old, nor bearded, and his parcels did not contain books, although I searched them several times. He said that an old man had hurried towards Ivarstead a few hours before, without stopping.

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The sitting man said that he had been attacked by bandits, so I laughed at him, and went on my way.

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On the other side of the hill, I found myself in a forest.

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The colours were so confusing that I had to wander into somebody's farm, to ask if they had noticed what direction I had been walking in before I turned around to look at the trees.

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There, I found a Dunmer woman drinking a cup of coffee and surrounded by Nirnroot.

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She put down her coffee and asked me if I was the Altmer the old man had told her about.

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I said "What old man?"

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She said: "The one who told me about you. He said you were coming to steal my Nirnroot, and I should poison your tea, or coffee, if you prefer. I have both."

I said, "Neither, please, I'm on duty. I mean, I'm not on duty. I don't like poison."

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Then she told me that she decided to wait and see what she thought of me first, in case I was a relative of Sinderion's.

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I said, "Sinderion, the master-thespian with the House of Reveries, Sinderion, the harbour master of Firsthold, or Sinderion, the famous alchemist and Nirnroot expert?"

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She said: "What do you think?"

I said: "I don't think anything, that's why I'm asking."

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She was very pleasant for a Dunmer and it was a very enjoyable conversation, but I didn't have any coffee.

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I continued following signs towards Ivarstead. I met some people who had been thrown out of their home by bandits, which was a very funny story.

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There seemed to be no end to the colourful forest.

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The roads are clearly signposted. Some say that the Rift is an unrespectable place, but I found it a very pleasant location to stalk my quarry to death.

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Ivarstead, I remembered, was famous for being near a mountain that the Nords like. If this old man was anything like the ordinary people of Skyrim he will probably have been drawn to it.

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The next man I met had a terrible skin disease. He asked me if I had finished ogling the grotesque, but I hadn't, so I made him stand still for a while longer before I sent him on his way.

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The roads disappeared, and I found an enormous mountain looming in front of me.

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There were ancient Nord statues on it, and some houses.

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Also, a mysterious barrow and a sign that told me I was in Ivarstead.

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But I checked with a guard, just to make sure.

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The inn was a likely place for an elderly man to be. If I did not find him there, I decided that I would try the barrow.

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Fortunately, I did not have to do this, as the inn was full of people I could ask.

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It seems that he was trying repeatedly to find a messenger to climb the mountain for him, as he was too old and weak.

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A travelling Altmer enchanter told me that everybody in the village had refused.

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Apparently, they were afraid of the old men with even bigger beards who live at the top of the mountain, in case they shouted at them.

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These old men must be very bad-tempered. I asked if perhaps the old man I was pursuing was trying to join them?

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The enchanter said No, he wanted to bargain with them. This made everybody even more afraid. The old man then left the inn, she said, and said that everybody was a fool who did not believe that dragons are returning, and said he would be best off hiring a thief.

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So I left Ivarstead and hurried away towards Riften, as that is the best place to find a thief.

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As I travelled down the riverside path, I saw a big Dwemer pipe sticking out of the ground.

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It blew hot air at me.

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After my encounter with the pipe, I decided to have a bath in the river before entering the City of Thieves, in case I was mistaken for a brigand and thrown in prison.

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I tried to formulate a plan for what I would do when I arrived, but it was difficult to wash and plot at the same time.

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Second Archivist Eldaline has a very particular talent for plotting while in the bath, Ambassador, but even she required help.

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I enjoyed rubbing the Second Archivist's shoulders in the bath. I miss the long evenings at the Bureau of Advanced Communications, listening to her interesting and glorious plots.

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I was sorry to hear that she was unwell. I hope that she gets better soon. Is she recovering at the Embassy?

And is the illness as a result of an assassination attempt? Those make me very angry, as you know.image

I passed an orc stronghold. The orcs on the walls said that their tribe was in danger, as their chieftain was terrible. So I laughed at them and went to Riften.

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- continues! -

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