Taking a walk back along the beach, I run across an Altmer sea captain by the name of Erronfaire who is complaining about some missing crew members. Okay, sure, they’re probably just being lazy or don’t want to return, but hey, maybe they were kidnapped or something and need help? I’m heading back into town anyway so it’s no big deal to ask around for them.

I make sure to write down the names she’s looking for this time, because I’ve acquired a journal in the meantime and otherwise I’m never going to remember. Because this is the sort of thing I wind up using a journal for: remembering names and locations. Daedra know I’d never have been able to keep straight the names of Daedric shrines otherwise. They always wind up being at least six syllables with a couple of Z’s in them. And Dwemer names? Good luck on those! I liked the Dwemer, I really did, but they were a people who considered vowels to be optional. (Oh, Kagrenac, what did you do?)

As I’m getting lunch at the Salted Wings Tavern, I ask about Tanamo, who is present and extremely drunk. It takes me a bit to get through to him, but eventually he promises to get out there eventually. I won’t count on him eventually remembering, but as I don’t really feel like dragging him out physically, I finish my own meal of radishes in rice and get up.

Before I leave, something the bard is singing catches my attention this time. Something about ripping out the Heart of Lorkhan. My head snaps to attention as I approach the Redguard bard and listen more closely. The ‘red diamond’ he’s been singing about is apparently a drop of blood from the Heart of Lorkhan that fell into an Ayleid well as it flew over Cyrodiil. And, of course, they pulled it out and carved it into a gem and… some words I don’t quite catch. That’s… alarming. And this human is singing about it like it’s some sort of awesome thing.

The bard finishes his song and looks to me. “Did you not enjoy my performance?”

“Huh?” I ask. “Oh. No, your voice is lovely. It’s just the subject matter.”

“Ah,” the bard says. “I suppose this may not be the best place to be singing about killing elves, would it?” He chuckles. “My apologies for not considering my audience. I will choose a different song.”

He then breaks into another tune about some sort of sea monster eating people. I guess that’s more neutral subject matter, even if he did misunderstand my cause for distress.

I head down the market, trying to put this ‘red diamond’ foolishness out of my mind. After asking around a bit, I locate the next crew member, a Bosmer named Balithil, laying in a bed upstairs at the enchanter’s shop. Between groans and complaints, he informs me that he never intends to set foot on a ship again. Fair enough, although I’m sure Erronfaire will not find that so fair.

I find the third crew member, a Khajiit named Anala, practicing outside by the Fighters Guildhall. She also refuses to return to the ship, due to rumors of Maormer.

“Yeah, don’t blame you on that one,” I say. “I was at Khenarthi’s Roost and wound up getting the opportunity to hit a whole lot of them.”

“That sounds very brave!” Anala says. “Much braver than Anala. Perhaps, then, you could find Degail? She would not listen and went for a walk on the western beach and has not come back.”

I frown. “Hopefully she just fell asleep in the sand, but if there’s Maormer out there, well… me and Stormy will take care of them.” I pat my battle axe.

I jump off the ledge down to the beach below and land next to two people who are lounging about on the beach on a colorful rug. Out further along the shore, around a cliff blocking view from town, a couple of sailboats have landed upon the beach. I’m not sure I recognize their outfits, but their bluish skin tone definitely identifies them as sea elves. A non-blue mer who might be Degail is tied up by some barrels.

I’m sure Harrani will be pleased that I’ve blooded Stormy on the blood of Maormer, after the way they used and betrayed her. At least they don’t see fit to murder their hostage out of spite once they see me very obviously slaughtering them all. When there’s no longer anyone attacking me, I untie Degail (she does turn out to be Degail) and look around the camp for incriminating correspondence. And apparently a copy of a book titled History of the Fighters Guild, Pt. 1, which I shove in my pack, though I’m not sure just why they’re reading it.

A note indicates they’re holding some marines hostage at South Beacon, speaks of an ambitious plan to retake the Summerset Isles, and mentions something called the Veiled Heritance, whatever that is.

“Is South Beacon further along the beach?” I ask.

“It’s that building on the cliff up ahead,” Degail says, pointing.

“Captain Erronfaire sent me to look for you,” I say. “Get back to town where it’s safe. I’ll retake South Beacon.”

“By yourself?”

I shrug. “Yes, by myself, I mean, you just saw me take out half a dozen of them here. Unless you think someone’s likely to send me reinforcements, but I’m going in either way. There’s marines being held hostage there, though, so if I can release them they should be able to help.”

Degail wishes me luck and hurries back to town, and I make for the lighthouse. The sky grows cloudy suddenly and I can hear the Dark Anchor dropping again from here, but it’s way up atop the cliff and I’m busy right now. I’m sure Scregor or whoever is out there at the moment have it in hand, anyway.

Near the lighthouse, I come upon a wounded soldier who looks like he tried to escape and get back to town. He’s still conscious, at least, and introduces himself as Legionary Tanacar.

“I’m not a very good healer but I might be able to get you on your feet again so you can get back to town,” I say, crouching down to heal as much as I can with my limited magicka reserves.

He stands slowly. “I think I can make it. You’ve got to find Captain Ciranya. She’s being held at their main camp further down the beach. If the Maormer control this beacon…”

“They’d have free rein over this coast,” I say, bringing out my axe again. “Get back to Vulkhel Guard. I’ll go split some damned sea elf skulls.”

We part ways and I move on. The Maormer camp is easy to identify. They have blue tents with snakes on them and more stupid snake statues everywhere. Ugh. I suspect the captain may be being held in the largest tent, and my hunch turns out to be accurate. Once I untie her, she immediately starts giving orders almost before I’ve introduced myself. (Probably with the correct name.) Sure, at least someone seems to know what they’re doing around here. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt on being captured by ambush. She starts giving me the names of her scouts that had been captured, and I hold up my hand to cut her off.

“I’ll just rescue everyone I run across who isn’t blue, alright?” I say.

“Yes, that would work,” she says, and mentions a place to meet them at called Skylight Beach.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

As I’m clearing out the camp and untying the prisoners, I come across a book titled Origin of the Mages Guild. Frowning, I toss it into my pack with the other and am now a little concerned about why they’re doing research on the guilds. Sahira-daro probably has already seen these books but maybe I’ll start my own collection. Another book titled How to Prepare Slaughterfish offers instructions on cooking fish at sea with fire salts and a helpful warning not to combine fire salts with kindlepitch. The description of how they accidentally destroyed a ship doing that makes me grin.

“Are you going to read all day or untie me?” a scout asks.

“Right, sorry.” I toss the cookbook into my pack and untie her. “Captain’s gathering everyone at Skylight Beach and you’re the last one. Let’s get moving.”

I hadn’t bothered to actually ask Ciranya where that was, so I follow the scout there, since she clearly does.

Discussion among the marines indicates that the Maormer slipped past their patrols and through treacherous shallows as if they’d received detailed intelligence from an inside source. Someone higher up than this little band of scouts. Troublesome. And now the Maormer are using the beacon to send signals to their fleet, and the quickest way to stop them is to destroy the beacon.

“We can’t just retake the beacon?” I ask.

“There’s no way we’d be able to hold it against another assault,” Captain Ciranya says. “We don’t have time to wait for reinforcements.”

“True,” I say. “I sent a sailor they’d captured back to warn Vulkhel Guard but who knows how long it would take for them to get ready and get out here.”

“They’ve warded the door, too,” Ciranya says. “We need to find a way in, and something explosive to destroy the beacon.”

“Is there any kindlepitch around?” I ask.

“Yes, I store it in a cave on the back of the island,” says the lighthouse keeper.

“Okay, great,” I say. “The Maormer use fire salts to cook their fish. I should be able to ‘borrow’ some from one of their ships. And maybe set it on fire, too, for good measure.”

“Good luck, and be careful, Neralion,” Ciranya says. “I’ll work on getting us inside.”

I find the cave in question and locate the bag of kindlepitch. Sticky, sticky kindlepitch that I really ought not to handle with my bare hands. I decide I’d best grab a couple of sticks to use as makeshift torches, too.

Getting to the big ship requires hacking my way through some Maormer I hadn’t killed yet while releasing the scouts. I climb on board and search the ship’s galley to locate a box of fire salts. I empty out a bag of flour so I can carry it more easily. Grinning, I head back up top and sprinkle some along the deck, then stick a stick in the bag of kindlepitch. Once the sea elves realize what I’m doing, they decide to dive into the water instead of keeping trying to attack me, since that would just make me drop the kindlepitch anyway. Double-checking to make sure the two bags are carefully, tightly secured and separated, I run for the stern of the ship. Cackling aloud, I toss the stick behind me as I leap into the water.

I swim, poorly, toward the beach ahead of me, while very carefully making sure not to drop the fire salts or kindlepitch. Actually I almost drown and this was a terrible idea but I do wind up getting to the beach right next to a couple of Maormer who seem quite annoyed at me. At a glance back at the big Maormer ship burning brightly and beautifully, maybe I can’t blame them for being annoyed at me. Once they’re down, I circle around to the beach where the scouts are waiting, also staring at the burning ship.

“That was the least subtle and most beautiful thing I have seen today,” one of them comments.

“Well done, Neralion,” Ciranya says. “I’ve figured out how they get inside, too. They appear to use a rune they carry to gain access through the ward.”

“Great,” I say. “Because we didn’t bring grappling hooks.” I pause thoughtfully. “Maybe I should carry grappling hooks in the future. Say, this stuff will still burn if damp, right? Because I may have gotten it slightly damp.”

“It’ll burn,” Ciranya assures me.

“Let me just stash my books here to make sure nothing happens to them, if I’m going to be playing with explosive substances, though,” I say, taking off my pack.

“Why are you carrying books arond?” Ciranya wonders.

“I really enjoy reading on the beach,” I say. “Hmm, come to think, my clothes are very flammable too and I paid good money for these.”

“Excuse me!?” Ciranya says. “Are you seriously suggesting going to fight the Maormer naked?”

“What, I don’t have any armor and these barely stop a stiff breeze,” I say as I pull off my shirt and stuff it into my pack.

Ciranya grunts in disgust and turns around as I start to take off my pants. “Divines save us from vain mer who are worried about damaging their clothing.”

I sigh. “Fine, I’ll keep my pants on, but I’m totally stealing the sea elves’ laundry when we’re done here.”

Axe in hand, I head around the rocks and up toward the lighthouse, cutting a path through the Maormer as I ascend the path. My Aedric Spear knocks one of them off the ledge and I tumble down after him to finish him off. However, it’s too steep to climb up again so I have to circle back around. Fortunately, it turns out that guy had one of those runes on him. Maybe I can try not knocking enemies back with that ability in the future. Once at the top, I wave the thing in front of the purple glowy door to make the purple glowiness stop, and head inside.

There’s a guy inside the lighthouse with a giant snake. I really should have expected the giant snake. They’re annoying, and that snake is bigger and tougher than usual, but I manage to defeat them and get through the far door. Not convinced the snake is actually dead but it has no hands so it would have to break down the door, and it won’t have time for that. I rush up the ladder.

At the top, the lighthouse brazier burns merrily, oblivious to the fate that awaits it. I toss in the bag of fire salts first, and it flares up with greater warmth and intensity. And then I pull out the bag of kindlepitch, grinning madly. This will be* glorious*!

I toss the bag of kindlepitch into the brazier, and the world erupts in heat and light.

…

I find myself in a wayshrine, naked. I glance about to get my bearings, and see high elven architecture. Vulkhel Guard. I cast my fancy new Bound Pants spell before anyone notices me, and don’t manage to conjure more than briefs. Good enough, I guess. Needs more practice. I pop into my room in the Mara’s Kiss Inn for some real pants, and then head back out toward the lighthouse, ignoring the Dark Anchor dropping yet again. (I don’t have a weapon on me at the moment anyway.)

As the lighthouse comes into view, I grin widely at the spectacle. The top of it blazes like the sun from the large quantity of fire salts and kindlepitch I tossed into the brazier, like a bright signal declaring ‘fuck off’ to the Maormer.

“Neralion!” Ciranya exclaims as I approach. “We thought you were dead for sure!”

“I cast a teleport spell to get me back to Vulkhel Guard,” I say. “Uh, unfortunately a teleport spell that does not include my belongings. Might need some work. Have you seen my axe?”

“That’s why you were worried about your clothing?” Ciranya asks, putting her face in her palm.

“I’m kind of a terrible mage,” I claim.

“Did you notify the guard when you were back there about the Maormer?”

“Uh… no, didn’t really think to,” I say. “I just put on some fresh pants and ran back out here. Didn’t want to miss the show.” I look up at the shining flames. “It’s very pretty, isn’t it? Much prettier up close, but, well, can’t look at it up close for very long.”

I grab the shirt out of my pack and put it back on.

“We did find your axe at the base of the tower when we went up to look for you,” Ciranya says, bringing it out. “It was all we could find of you.”

“Thanks!” I say, hefting it. “Khenarthi’s Storm will live to taste Maormer blood another day. Or the blood of anything else that’s being a pain in the ass, for that matter.”

“The amount of Maormer blood you spilled should discourage them from trying to retake a tower that’s useless to them until we can mount a force to hold it, at least,” Ciranya says. “They will no longer be able to signal to their fleet to navigate through the shallows.”

“Great!” I say. “I’ll head back to Vulkhel Guard, then. Er, with my feet, and not the method that leaves me naked at the wayshrine. And then I’ll figure out who I need to let know about this.”

“You’ll want to tell Watch Captain Astanya, too,” Ciranya says. “She’ll need to know to get the guards on alert.”

When I get back to the docks district of Vulkhel Guard, I run across Captain Erronfaire, who is quite understandably wondering where in Oblivion her crew got off to still.

“Sorry, I got sidetracked killing Maormer,” I say. “Oh, by the way, there’s Maormer down the beach. Or, were, I killed most of them and blew up their ship.”

Erronfaire groans. “Maormer? Seriously? I’d better set sail before they lock down the port or I’ll never make it to Velyn Harbor on time. What of my crew? Tanamo stumbled back drunk as a drowned skeever, but I haven’t heard word from the others.”

“Probably not coming,” I say. “The wood elf got seasick and the other two were scared off by the Maormer after one of them was captured.”

She sighs. “Soft-bellied, weak-willed… Fine. Thank you for the information. Here’s some coin for your trouble. You’ve saved me a fair bit of hassle. Now I’ve got to toss Tanamo in a cabin and prepare to leave port as soon as possible.”