Skyrim Mod:Legendary Dungeons: Nordic Secrets/Morayon's Journal
< Mod / Skyrim: Skyrim Mod: Verified Creations: Legendary Dungeons: Nordic Secrets
 Morayon's Journal |
|||
|---|---|---|---|
| Added by | Legendary Dungeons: Nordic Secrets | ||
| ID | xx204A61 | ||
 |
5 | .png){kind=icon} |
1 |
Finally reached the castle. I am perhaps the first in centuries to do so. Not even looters dared touch these grounds. The hike has taken too much out of me. Were I fifty years younger and not riddled with this detestable plague, perhaps I could continue onwards. For now, I will rest and collect my thoughts.
There is evidence of a great battle here, which supports the evidence I could find. Some group of adventurers brought Lady Thorn down, along with her armies. But that leaves enough necromantic material for me to make my own army. Not as sturdy after more than half a millenia rotting in a rotting castle, but they will make do.
To the few that still know of her, Lady Thorn is nothing more than a vampiric footnote in Haafingar's history: A powerful but minor vampiric noble content to sit in a vast castle until some hapless tourists ran a sword through her head. But as her descendants, those of clan Ingerien... we knew her as the greatest alchemist of the Direnni, perhaps in all of Tamriel. Our archive of her notes may be incomplete, but it gave me power beyond my wildest dreams. Sadly, not the power to avoid contempt and persecution from those in High Rock, nor to avoid the ravages of time and disease. But no amount of dusty books can compare to the source. I have heard greater whispers, and my family kept one final secret before I wrung it out of their dying lungs. Lady Thorn was not slain that day. She is still out there, somewhere.
I am convinced of it. Lady Thorn is still alive. Or at least, still conscious in some form. There are evidence of some rituals. Fragments of powerful soul gems, encodings of some transliminal juncture, even correspondence of some unknown third party. Lady Thorn knew that the Grey Host would lead to her end. She made a deal with someone. A deal to continue on. If I could find her, speak with her or, if unwilling, rip those secrets out of her head... But I need time. I need time! My necromantic servants have to carry me now, the disease has ravaged my limbs to nothing. I only am thankful that I have the strength to keep my eyes open and that my mind has been left intact. So long as that's the case... I have nothing to worry about.
Whatever secrets to vampirism I hoped to find here, there aren't any. Lady Thorn seemed ultimately uninterested in a form she already occupied, leaving it up to some third party to the west to unravel. But her notes! Her notes are still incredible. The formula, a lifetime of study! If I can't find a cure to my ailment, I can nevertheless find a path forward to rightfully deserved power.
It took ages to unravel her notes, but I've come to understand what Lady Thorn truly was: A woman with a thousand plans. It seemed this Grey Host whom she followed didn't enjoy the privilege of her total loyalty. A survivor like her had plans upon plans: Contingencies in case of inevitable disaster. Among them is something peculiar. A formula. A formula for a form of self-induced lichcraft. The process had long been one I considered, and while horseflesh may be easy to come by, the heart of lich escaped me. It was like trying to open a locked cabinet when the key was inside. But with this? I won't need a lich's heart. My own will do.
The process has worked! My mortal shell has fallen away, and all that remains is me. No longer a sickly thing, unworthy to his name. I am a chrysalis of power. Every fiber of my soul seeping into the bricks of this rotting ruin. But it's not enough. I had hoped that this merge would grant me the insight to find her final secret, her last contingency. But even as powerful as I've become, there is still more to be done. My power can always grow. There is life here, enough life to expand.
In the meantime, it is essential I hide my heart. Lady Thorn was brought low by a group of adventurers, and I have shed whatever ego my mortal body once had. I cannot pretend that some determined spellsword could not reach my inner sanctum. Precautions must be taken, and I have time. In the depths of her notes I found a name. A location. The Sea of Spires. Wherever it is, there are soul gems that are attuned to it. Some piece of a ritual capable of reaching it. She is there, I know she is. I just need to find these pieces of this final puzzle. I have time.