I meet up with Sahira-daro to drop off what has wound up being a fairly substantial stack of books. She gives a quick sort through it and returns to me the books of which she already has a copy, and thanks me. I let her know I’ll be heading to Grahtwood soon, and she’s thinking about acquiring a building somewhere she can turn into a private library (and probably secret shrine to Hermaeus Mora for good measure).

“Valaste isn’t in today?” I ask.

Sahira-daro shakes her head. “She went to the mainland to cross-reference some things with the Mages Guildhall in Elden Root. If you’re in Graftwood at some point in the near future, you might want to check in and see if she’s had any luck.”

There was something else I needed to do here, and I have to look up in my journal to remember what. I’m supposed to deliver a relic (that I hopefully still have) to someone named Angrel and get her to release someone named Beddi from a bet. I’m sure glad I wrote that down because I totally would have forgotten that and poor Beddi would still have been stuck. Angrel is in the Mages Guild and she’s a bit of a smug bitch but at least Beddi is able to move on to Aetherius now.

With the books and relic dropped off and the goblins left in the capable of hands of the Guilds, I go off with Lyris to discuss the business our ‘mutual friend’ who lives in a damp cave wanted me to do.

“Goblins,” Lyris says, taking one last look back at the guildhalls. “I never would have thought it, but it’s easy to forget that they aren’t… well, I’m part giant and people think a lot of the same things about giants, too, don’t they?”

“Merry, do you want to go meet up with the others at the tavern?” I ask. “I’ve got some business with Lyris here.”

“Of course,” Merry says. “Enjoy your date.”

I smirk at him and don’t even bother arguing, and we part ways, with Lyris and I heading out toward somewhere private to speak for a moment.

“The Prophet has been waiting on you,” Lyris says quietly. “Where have you been?”

“Terribly sorry about that,” I say. “I’ve been running all over Auridon stopping invasions of Daedra, Maormer, undead, and racist bandits. Sometimes more than one of those at once. I really need to learn a cheaper way to teleport.”

“I understand,” Lyris says. “I suppose if this were really urgent, he could have opened a portal for you himself. He keeps trying to find Sai Sahan, but in the meantime I’ve been keeping an ear open for clues in Vulkhel Guard. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to do closer investigating myself since I’m somewhat obvious.”

“That’s where I come in?” I say.

“You can pass as an Altmer and ask some questions around town,” Lyris says, giving me some names (that she can’t spell) and descriptions.

My first stop is a Bosmer by the name of Diranor, located in the gardens in front of the temple of Auri-El. A poor bard without an instrument is hardly a bard at all. For pity’s sake, I pull a lute out of my pack that I’d picked up somewhere (don’t even remember where) and hand it to him.

“Here, think of me at your next performance,” I say.

“You’d just give this to me?” Diranor says. “Wait, you just happened to have a lute in your pocket?”

I shrug broadly. “I’ve been killing racist bandits and sea elves, and I have a magic bag that gives me an excuse to be a packrat. I’m not even sure why I picked it up. I don’t even know how to play.”

He’s happy enough to pass along some rumors about suspicious characters hanging around near the old lighthouse, and I thank him and move on to the next person Lyris mentioned after dropping off a few things in my closet that I want to hang onto but don’t need to carry around everywhere. Packrat. And not the adorable kind they sell in Mournhold.

Mehdir is a spotted Khajiit fishing down at the docks. He also mentions a strange person seen around the lighthouse in question. I can’t imagine this suspicious person is all that great at doing suspicious things if he’s so obviously acting suspicious.

My next stop is the Salted Wings Tavern, where my friends are currently eating. “Hey, guys. Who wants to come help me investigate something suspicious at the lighthouse?”

They exchange looks. “You mean we have a choice?” Merry says.

“Is it urgent?” Eran says. “Can we finish eating first, or are Daedra about to descend upon the city any moment now?”

“It can probably wait,” I say with a chuckle. “I might as well go tell the Undaunted I didn’t get eaten by a ghost while I’m here, too.”

“That’s only true in the most technical way,” Eran points out.

I head upstairs, where the group of Undaunted seem to be drinking in exactly the same place they were last time I was here. They take me for my word that I went into the Banished Cells and came out again, without even bothering to hear about the specific details of it, which is probably just as well. And then they sing at me. Badly. I excuse myself as soon as they’re done and order myself a plate of stir-fried garlic beef, quietly determining to ignore the fact that I’m technically a member of the Undaunted now.

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Ilara wants to send a letter she’d written to her brother, so we drop that off on the way through town. It’s evening by the time we get out to investigate the lighthouse, so hopefully this won’t take too long. My companions, tellingly, don’t even bother asking for too many details, just assuming this is another case of me being me and poking my nose into absolutely everything that sounds interesting and anything someone asks me to. They’re probably not wrong…

“Are we after racist bandits or sea elves today?” Eran asks. “Ugh, now you’ve got me calling them ‘racist bandits’ too.”

“Neither!” I reply cheerfully. “We’re after Worm Cultists.”

“Great,” Eran says. “That means we’re probably going to be going up against undead and not Daedra or giant snakes. Undead would be a nice change of pace.”

“It really wouldn’t,” Merry disagrees.

The lighthouse is empty, but there’s a trapdoor leading down into a cellar. The cellar is, indeed, full of undead. And also spike traps. Ah, traps. Beautiful, beautiful traps. All smoothly moving like the devices Dwemer built, with their heavy shunk and their light shink, metal sliding against metal in perfect precision.

At the bottom of the cave, we come across a very pale Altmer with glowing red eyes. Perhaps it would have been better to wait for morning after all.

“Vampire?” Ilara asks softly.

“Vampire,” Merry confirms.

I call upon Blinky to knock the vampire down with a spear of light just as he notices us, and we charge in. Or at least, Eran and I charge in, Ilara and Merry just take aim from where they’re standing. The vampire goes down in due order.

Over on a nearby table sits a magic sphere that Merry says might be a communication orb, so I go over and pick it up, accidentally activating it in the process. A projection of a human man appears above the table. I’m quite sure I’ve seen this man before. Wasn’t he the one who appeared to Lyris and me in Coldharbour? Fortunately, he’s polite enough to declare himself to be Abnur Tharn, saving me the embarrassment of having to look it up. Also demands that I identify myself.

“They call me… the Black Wolf,” I say slowly, after wracking my brain to think of some animal on Auridon that’s even slightly dangerous.

“Your alias is just as stupid as your costume,” Abnur says. “Do you have something to report, then, or did you contact me by accident? Ugh, competent minions are so difficult to come by sometimes.”

“Oh, yes, I have some very strange activity to report that I’ve seen in Auridon,” I say. “Some sea elves attacked a few places on the coast, High Kinlady Estre turned out to be a worshipper of Mehrunes Dagon and set a lot of towns on fire, some goblins decided to become productive members of society, an idiot mage turned a town to stone—”

Merry grunts and restrains himself from protesting.

“—a lot of ghosts have been very angry because people keep poking them, the Daggerfall Covenant attacked North Beacon, oh, and somebody’s been asking about a Redguard warrior, what was the name, Sai Something?”

“Sai Sahan,” Abnur says. “Not to worry. He’s quite securely locked away. Well. Your report is certainly thorough. You’ve gotten around a bit. I already knew about some of those—The Master was negotiating with High Kinlady Estre to join us. Do you know where she is now?”

“Ah, dead,” I say. “Dead in the Deadlands. It turns out when you invade a city with Daedra, people might send an army to get rid of you. It didn’t work out well for her, but she certainly had a good run of spreading chaos and destruction before someone finally put her down.”

“I see,” Abnur says. “Too bad. She seemed promising, but rather foolish and impulsive. Perhaps it’s just as well. Do you have anything else to report?”

“Nothing comes to mind but I might be forgetting something,” I say.

“Very well,” Abnur says with a sigh. “If you remember or learn of anything else, be certain to contact me again and I might not think you’re completely incompetent.”

He cuts off the connection, and I manage to pick up the orb without activating it by accident this time and toss it in my pack.

“Why did you give him any information?” Merry wonders.

I shrug. “It wasn’t anything that was either important or any great secret. By the way, muthsera Tharn, there’s still a war going on! I’m sure he would have noticed on his own.”

“What are you going to do with the orb?” Merry asks.

“Got a friend who might be able to do something with this and glean some information about the Worm Cult from it,” I say. “Hopefully. He’s kinda weird.”

“Do we get to meet him?” Ilara asks.

“Sure, why not,” I say. “Let’s go. He’s squatting in a cave near town because he’s weird.”

When we arrive at the cave, Lyris is there playing the lute. Either entertaining the Prophet or practicing where she can’t annoy anyone, one or the other. She’s not bad, though.

“I hear several feet,” the Prophet says. “Are they friends?”

“Hello!” I say cheerfully. “I’d like you to meet my new friends. These are Eran, Merry, and Ilara.”

“Merormo,” Merry mumbles.

“Eranamo,” Eran says. “Not that it terribly matters.”

“And guys, this is the Prophet. Also Lyris. They’re the ones who helped me escape Coldharbour.”

They stare at the old blind human. “Does… the Prophet have a name?” Ilara wonders.

“Or did you forget that, too?” Eran adds.

“Dunno, probably,” I say.

“It is good to meet the Vestige’s friends,” the Prophet says, evading the question. “Stout companions are a boon in any quest.”

“Hey, Prophet! I did some investigating following Lyris’ tip and found a bunch of undead and a vampire who was also undead but a rather more lucid sort of undead, although they’re all just dead now. There was a cultist hideout underneath the lighthouse. I found this orb they use to speak and made a ‘report’ to Abnur Tharn when I accidentally activated it. Maybe you could make some use out of it.”

I carefully remove the orb from my pack and place it on the table. The Prophet says he should be able to use it to find Sai, and then starts going on something about Abnur Tharn and destiny or something and I don’t know what and politely decide to go say hi to Lyris instead and compliment her on her lute playing. She isn’t terribly fond of Abnur for various reasons primarily related to him being a weasel, a donkey, a toad, and various other animals I’m not too familiar with.

“Anyway,” I say finally. “We’re about to head for the mainland, and unless you’re coming with us, it might be a while before I can get back here unless I can figure out a quicker way to travel, because I managed to recruit a mage who knows more about turning people into chickens than about opening portals to places.”

“We all have our specialties,” Merry says, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh, I do appreciate yours,” I say. “I certainly don’t know half of what you do about magic and I’m assuming portal magic is difficult. I’m impressed that a blind man is so good at it, honestly.”

“Blindness probably actually helps with scrying and targeting,” Merry says. “Not that I was ever keen on the idea of deliberately maiming myself in order to gain a slight advantage with some types of magic. In any case, if this human is capable of opening portals, why don’t we just ask him for a shortcut and save ourselves a lengthy boat ride?”

“I wouldn’t want to tax his strength when he needs to be focusing on other things,” I say.

“Yes, I will need to commit all of my energy to divining the location of Sai Sahan,” the Prophet says. “You are resourceful. I have faith in you for finding solutions. I will contact you again once I have gleaned some information.”