You know what they say about the best-laid plans. I’m writing this at my dining room table in Whiterun.

  We left Markarth this morning, and as we walked away from the city – The gate is impressive and well-fortified – we spotted a carriage! I asked the driver about hiring him to get us to Dawnstar, but then Lydia pointed out that Whiterun wasn’t that far out of the way. She reminded me that I had a letter to deliver to the priestess Danica, and I still needed to tell Fralia that Thorald was all right.

  Valdimar mentioned, almost off-handedly, that we were also quite laden down with things I wanted to keep, like furs and metal that I’ll need to build my house in Morthal, along with books for my library (I’ve decided, I’m building a library). He said that Lydia told him about Breezehome. We could drop off our extra things, restock, rest, and be on our way.

  Clearly, Lydia’s been talking about me.

  I know they’re technically servants, but I can’t argue with them. They were right! So, I had us brought here to Whiterun. Our driver was a little wary of the dog, but took to him quickly when the pup jumped up next to him in the front before laying over his feet.

  Our boy’s got a sense for knowing when people’s toes are cold, I swear. He’ll find the coldest feet wherever we are and just flop on them. Doesn’t matter whose!

  The trip went smoothly and without incident. I suppose having a cart full of people armed to the teeth helps make it so. We chatted and read some of my books. Valdimar read the ones on Dwarves that I had bought from Calcelmo, who also wrote them. Based on what he said about them, I wish I’d bought them before we went into the ruin! Lydia read some of the poetry and adventure stories.

  When the driver saw that I had a bunch of books with me, he asked if one of us could read aloud to him. He likes to read, he said, but reading in the cart bothers his stomach.

  So, I pulled out the “Yellow Book of Riddles”, which was fun, and then went on to some adventure books. Valdimar even sang for us bit.

  He’s got a nice voice, actually.

  And that brings us here. It was very late when we arrived, and everything was closed, so we just went to the house and unloaded everything before grabbing something to eat.

  Lydia showed Valdimar to his bed, and now she’s getting a bowl of water for the dog.

  I’m going to finish my wine and crawl into my wonderful, soft, not-made-of-stone bed.

  So, we’re in Dawnstar, at the Windpeak Inn, but apparently I have a fiance? Or a fiancee? I’m not sure.

  The day started normally enough. We had breakfast and I took some time to make as many potions as I could before heading next door to sell off the remaining bits of loot we had to Adrienne.

  Then, we headed to the market to resupply, but I was stopped by Ysolda. She said that I owed her for an engagement ring? I asked her what was going on, and she said that I got an engagement ring from her on credit. I’m a thane, so she had no problem with the deal, but she needs paid or the ring back.

  She said that I told her how I had met my betrothed at a place called Witchmist Grove? And that it was really romantic, with fireflies and everything? And there was something about a party. I looked to Valdimar and Lydia, who only shrugged. They said earlier that they’d lost track of me for a while.

  They’d been drinking, too. Maybe they had what I had?

  Ysolda referred to both a Him and a Her, so I have no idea if I proposed to a man or a woman.

  Whatever. She did say that Sam was going to be my best man at the wedding.

  But how did I get around Skyrim so FAST? I know Sam’s a mage, he must have drunkenly teleported us from party to party, where I somehow ended up engaged to… Somebody somewhere?

  I just hope that Ysolda doesn’t talk to much. I’ll have to make it up to her later.

  We finished up in the marketplace, and delivered Thorald’s secret message to Fralia, who was at her stall. She was overjoyed to know he was okay, and gave me a beautiful sword in return! Lydia reminded me about the letter for Danica, but luckily she was sitting on a bench right at the top of the stairs, so that only took a moment. Once that was taken care of, we refilled out water, went back to the house so I could cook up some provisions, then we were off!

  The carriage ride to Dawnstar was half the distance on the map, but took just as long and cost more than double the price to Whiterun because of the snow and bad roads. We spent most of the trip huddled together, dozing while we tried to stay warm. The dog planted himself under the furs our driver had over his legs, and only came out when he absolutely had to. The man wisely had extras for us to borrow, so we weren’t too cold, but far from toasty.

  I suppose I have the bad weather to thank for the lack of anything bothering us on the trip. Too cold to go out, even for the spiders!

  Dragons are another matter.

  We’d barely taken two steps from the wagon when one started to circle Dawnstar. The guards spotted it first, and I looked to the others. I couldn’t see Valdimar’s face in his helmet, but I saw Lydia go pale before she snarled and grabbed her sword.

  You see, a young boy had run up to the carriage right before we got to town, and asked the driver if he had any news or stories to tell. He climbed right up next to him; I had the feeling this was something he did every time. He was disappointed when the driver had nothing to tell him, but was happy to meet a friendly dog. He got off when we stopped, and wandered away.

  The dragon was focused on the boy, and landed between us and him.

  Luckily, Lydia was almost on top of it as soon as it hit the ground, and a bunch of guards and townsfolk came out to help. It was a small green one, too, so the fight didn’t last long.

  But I was right there when it died, and the same rushing white light surrounded me again as its body turned to ash and bone.

  The people murmured amongst themselves, both about the dragon and what they saw happen to me. I stared at them, unsure of what to do, and they quickly turned away, and started going about their business. Even the boy rushed past me, and kept his head ducked to avoid my gaze.

  Valdimar clapped a sympathetic hand on my back as we made our way here to the Inn, and Lydia gave dirty looks to the guards, who shuffled quickly aside to give me a wide berth as we walked past.

  I can’t help it if I’m the Dragonborn! I didn’t ask for any of this, and if I had the choice, I know I wouldn’t choose it!

  Damn my bleeding heart. Dru always said it would get me in trouble. I know I’d be going to Nightcaller Temple tomorrow even if I weren’t the Dragonborn. These people are looking at me like I’m some sort of monster, but they don’t deserve to suffer from nightmares or dragons or whatever else Vaermina has planned for them.

  Besides, that shady priest has some explaining to do. I saw him out there in the fight. He was the only one who looked me in the eye after the dragon soul came at me. He had a little smile on his face, and he nodded, like he… Approved. Not to mention I saw him run up to the beast without the slightest hint of fear, swinging a heavy Dwarven mace like he was born to do it. He buggered off as soon as the crowd started to break.

  I’m sure we’ll see him tomorrow.

  And now we are five, or will be, once we rejoin with the others in the morning. I’m spending the night in Nightcaller Temple.

  I was right about there being more to Erandur.

  We got up bright and early this morning, and found Erandur waiting for us by the fire. He led us between the buildings, and up the side of the hill overlooking the town. The trip up wasn’t bad. It was a short walk, but it was dreadfully cold, with freezing wind and snow everywhere, and there was a small pack of wolves and a few saber cats hanging out right by the entrance.

  We took care of them, and once we’d gotten all we could off of them -and what was left of an unfortunate goat carcass they were probably fighting over – we walked to the door of the temple.

  It didn’t look like much. It’s mostly a ruin, with a lone stone tower standing proud at the cliff edge, looking out over the town and the cold sea it borders. Still, I could sense something powerful in here, and Valdimar shot me a look that said he knew it, too.

  Erandur explained that we couldn’t all go inside. Long ago, a group of Orcs attacked the worshipers here in revenge. Vaermina’s faithful knew they couldn’t stand against them, and released the Miasma, a fog that put everyone inside to sleep. While they were sleeping, they were shielded from everything, even age. The downside is that the longer someone sleeps in the Miasma, the more likely they’ll lose their minds. He suspected that opening the temple would probably break up the fog, and awaken the sleepers.

  Given this, it would be far safer if only I accompanied him. We exchanged glances, and something told me that he had good reason to not want the others around.

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  Lydia and Valdimar spoke out immediately, but I calmed them down. We were dealing with one of the Daedric Princes. If her influence managed to gain hold of their minds, what sort of damage could she inflict with one of them as her puppet?

  This was the best excuse I could think of, but the others agreed. Imperial blood at work!

  I made sure they had plenty of gold, and insisted that they go back to town to get out of the weather. At least go back so the poor dog wouldn’t freeze!

  Honestly, I think they whined more than he did, but they eventually agreed, and Erandur and I went inside.

  He’d set up a little shrine to Mara as a sort of barrier against the influence of Vaermina, but it couldn't do much in a place like this. I’m not the best at sensing things, but even I can feel the evil in this place. It feels slimy and thick, like honey gone bad.

  Even now, with the temple empty, it’s still here. It’s... pooled in the corners and shadowy places. I feel like if I cleared out the cobwebs with one of these brooms laying around that it’d come back sticky with it.

  I can’t wait to get out of here, but I’m exhausted, despite spending half the day “asleep”. Sort of? It’s a bit hard to explain.

  Once we got inside, we took care of a few skeevers that holed up in here, and Erandur did a spell that revealed a secret door to the temple’s inner sanctum.

  We entered on a balcony that looked down to the bottom of the tower. At the bottom was a tall platform or altar, surrounded by a swirling ball of crackling energy. I could see something in the center of it, but it was hard to make out. Erandur said that was the Skull of Corruption, a Daedric artifact of Vaermina’s, and the source of Dawnstar’s troubles.

  He said we had to get down there to destroy it.

  We went down the stairs, and I saw a weird, mostly purple fog at the bottom. It had a sickly sweet smell to it, and two Orcs armed to the teeth were collapsed at the bottom of the steps. As soon as we got close, they woke up and attacked us!

  Erandur’s good in a fight! He let some Sparks fly, and just like with the dragon, he’s very handy with that mace of his. After we took care of them, he explained that the purple fog was the Miasma. It was weakening, just like he thought it would.

  Of course, just past the orcs, we found a doorway that was blocked by a spell.

  Erandur cursed and explained that the priests of Vaermina must have put it up once the Miasma had been released. I could just barely make out a soul gem on the other side of the magic wall, powering the spell. The only way to stop the spell was to take the gem from its stand. He had an idea of how to get around it, and asked me to follow him back upstairs to the library to look for clues.

  This was when I’d had enough. He knew too much about everything; the cult, the Miasma, Vaermina, the layout… All of it. And I know most priests are magic users, and that all of us mages know at least one or two Destruction spells in case we need it, but I’ve never met a priest of Mara who could swing a mace like that!

  I said as much, and he sighed. He confessed that he used to be a priest of Vaermina. He ran when the orcs attacked.

  I’d figured as much. I didn’t say anything right away, though. I was too shocked by how his accent changed when he started talking. It went from the posh one that I always heard from highborn elves at the fancy parties Dru and I used to crash to the familiar one I knew from my old haunts. Not the common one, but the rough, drawling kind you hear from elves at the docks and in other “less reputable” areas.

  It made me feel better knowing that he was my kind of people. Sure, he didn’t give us the whole story, but sometimes that’s what you gotta do to get by.

  I should know.

  I said that he should have just told me the truth, and he said that he didn’t know how to tell me. He felt terrible for leaving everyone here to die, and had been spending the last few decades seeking forgiveness from Mara.

  Somehow, in the time since he’d left, the Skull had gained the ability to reach out and steal peoples’ memories all on its own. How or why, he didn’t know, but he knew that destroying the Skull would save Dawnstar. He still had his key to the library, so up we went.

  There were more people in the library, but this time, there were other priests, along with Orcs. Once we were done with them, Erandur said that we needed a book called “The Dreamstride”, an alchemy recipe book.

  You know me – I love alchemy, so I started hunting right away, but most of the books were ruined! Erandur and I both complained about it. He said that this place used to be full of books on magic, and that hopefully the book we needed wasn’t destroyed. It’s such a waste!

  I couldn’t help but curse a blue streak while I sifted through all the burnt paper and rotting leather covers. I apologized when I caught myself doing it around him, but he just smiled and said not to worry. He said, and I quote, “I will offer a prayer that whoever did this gets what they deserve. Preferably a nice, long wank from a mudcrab.”

  I laughed so hard I inhaled a bunch of ash and ended up on the floor in a coughing fit.

  He seemed pleased with himself for that one.

  Luckily, I found the book on the second level of the library, along with a few other useful ones that had somehow survived the flames. Luckily, “The Dreamstride” was totally fine, and Erandur flipped through it, looking for information about a potion he’d heard of called Vaermina’s Torpor.

  He said that it was used in rituals, and that the people who drank it fell asleep (surprise, surprise) and gained the ability to travel through the world of dreams. As in, when they woke up, they would be at the location where they left the dream. This was the Dreamstride. There was probably still a bottle of the Torpor left somewhere in the temple’s laboratory, which was near the library.

  So down we went, fighting cultists and raiders until we cleared out the lab. There was an enchanting table and an alchemy lab, so I took some time to learn some spells and gather all the ingredients that hadn’t gone bad to make a bunch of potions. I found a good number of finished potions, too, and a big bottle of Vaermina’s Torpor. There wasn’t much left in it, but it was enough.

  Guess who had to drink it?

  Yeah, I know, I know. But Erandur couldn’t because he’s a priest of Mara. Only the unaffiliated or worshipers of Vaermina can use it. He said that once I drank it, I would be seeing the memories of someone else, but in my body and with my eyes. Everyone in the memory would act like I was the person whose memories I was seeing, but I might also say or do things not on my own. I would be in someone else’s memories, after all.

  He didn’t know when I would wake up or how I would get out of it, but he swore that he’d do all he could to make sure I was safe while I was under.

  So, forever the Stupid One, I knocked it back and DAMN! I thought Orcish Quenchwater had a kick to it!

  I barely had time to hand him the bottle before things went all swirly.

  Everything looked hazy and, well – Dream-like, which makes sense. I was at the bottom of the tower, by the platform with the Skull of Corruption on it. Two priests were talking with each other, saying that they were losing the fight, and they must release the Miasma. It was the only way to protect the Skull.

  Clearly, I’d traveled back in time to when the Orcs attacked. The men called me “Brother Casimir” and asked if I was ready to release the Miasma while they stayed to guard the Skull. I said I was, and ran through the temple.

  It was so strange. It felt like everyone either couldn’t see me or was ignoring me. I couldn’t pick anything up, or check my pockets. I could only run through the melee. The cultists fought fiercely, but it was obvious that they were on the losing side. It took a while, but eventually I got back to the upper level, and found a pull ring by the soon-to-be-sealed door. I pulled it, and released the Miasma. Then, I woke up.

  I was standing on the other side of the doorway, my hand still on the pull ring. The soul gem was there, powering the spell, and I could see Erandur waiting on the other side. I pocketed the gem to let him through, and he ran over, practically gushing about how well it had worked. He did wish that he would have been able to see what I had, but…

  Well, if I knew then what I know now, I’d have laughed.

  We fought our way to the inner sanctum, and I looted everything I could as we went along. It was a long, hard fight. Every time I thought that surely, this was the last room before we got to the Skull, we’d turn a corner and there’d be more people trying to kill us or each other.

  We got there eventually, where we met the same two priests I had seen in the Dreamstride, Thorek and Veren.

  Erandur ran up to them, excited and clearly happy to see that they’d survived, but they were more than a little pissed at their old friend… Casimir.

  Of course.

  Erandur said that he was a priest of Mara, now, and that he didn’t use that name anymore. They called him a traitor for leaving them there to die. Erandur confessed that he was afraid. He wasn’t ready to sleep.

  That didn’t do anything to help the situation, and they attacked us. They fought like lions, but we won. Once they were dead, I drained my last healing potion and checked on Erandur. He didn’t look that good, standing there, watching the blood drip off his mace. He’d landed the killing blow on both of them.

  He wondered if this was somehow Mara’s punishment for his sins; a step on his path to atonement. I reminded him that they were trying to kill us, and had come very, very close. What else were we supposed to do?

  This seemed to bolster him a bit. He agreed, and said that if we’d lost, Dawnstar would be doomed.

  So, we left the bodies of his old friends, and walked up the steps of the platform to the Skull.

  I still couldn’t see it very well through the ball of magic around it (standing too close made my hair stand on end) but I could feel the evil coming off of it easy enough. It looked like it was mounted on a staff, and I think it had horns? I’m not sure. I wasn’t exactly excited to be near such a nasty thing.

  Anyway, Erandur had me stand back, and explained that Mara had granted him a ritual that could destroy the Skull, and break Vaermina’s hold on the townsfolk.

  I stepped back, and let him do his thing.

  While he was chanting, a woman’s voice rang in my head. It was Vaermina. She said that Erandur was lying to me. That once the ritual was complete, he would take the Skull, and use it to kill me. She gave me a command: Kill Erandur, and claim the Skull and its power for myself!

  Remember when I said that the Emperor himself could give me an order, and I’d tell him to take his decree and stick it up his ass?

  Yeah, there’s no way in Oblivion I was going to listen to her. If that spooky bitch thinks she can order me around, she’s got another thing coming.

  The angry scream I heard when Erandur finished his ritual and destroyed the staff was music to my ears.

  I think he noticed my smugness when he turned to tell me that the people would be safe, now. I told him what Vaermina said to me, and he laughed when I called her a “Spooky Bitch”.

  He asked how I knew to trust him, and I pointed out that he’d had multiple chances to kill me once I’d taken care of the sealed door. He could have turned on me with his old friends, Veren and Thorek, to help him, or just bashed my head in once they were dead. I was tired, bleeding, and out of magicka with only one little potion left. It would’ve been easy.

  Besides, he’s a terrible liar.

  As we walked out of the altar space and started back up the stairs, I asked him if he would be all right. He said that he would, in time. I then asked what he was going to do now that the town was safe. He shrugged and said that he’d planned to stay here, maintain his shrine, and continue to seek Mara’s forgiveness for what he’s done. I couldn’t help but scoff at that, and invited him to join us.

  Erandur took the offer. He could do a lot better, he figured, out in the world, helping people and spreading the light of Mara. That, and he liked my attitude.

  But we were both beat, and I didn’t feel like going out in the cold. There are bunks here, so I made sure to suggest a room without any bodies in it to sleep in. We had dinner but we were still both too jittery to sleep, despite feeling like we’d been kicked by a mammoth. So, I decided to write and have a bottle of wine (almost done) and he’s been wandering around, saying prayers for all the dead.

  I think the adrenaline is finally starting to wear down, though. He came back a bit ago and right now he’s looking through the armor I picked up and talking to himself about it while he tries things on.

  He must’ve been alone for a long time. People like that usually pick up the habit.

  I hope that means he’ll be glad for our company.

  Well, now that I know he’s back safely, I can turn in. It’ll be interesting to see what the others say tomorrow!