Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 62: Chapter III: White Phial (part 1)



As we are walking the still quiet streets of Windhelm my new... helper, yes let us go with helper, speaks up "So 'temp. boss' what exactly are we doing?"

I yawn "Well, the first thing I am doing is getting some sleep"

He lets out an annoyed grunt making me snicker.

After a bit more walking I say "I am going to be visiting the alchemist on the market square in an attempt to obtain his life's work, you can just follow me around or something I really don't need your more special services until we arrive at Solitude." He nods and we continue walking.

As I ponder future possibilities I get an idea and turn to Davos "Actually, do you have skills in detecting mundane traps and the like?"

He nods and looks at me as if to say 'why did you even hire me?'

I roll my eyes at his reaction and say nothing.

We spend the night in one of the more luxurious inns in the grey quarter, which to be fair isn't saying much considering that by luxurious I really mean containing the barest amenities.

As soon as I get ready we leave, already having paid when we arrived. We walk towards the market square and see the streets grow noticeably less crowded and more prosperous, I can practically see Davos getting more and more angry, but he keeps a lid on it.

The market square is absolutely massive when compared to what one would see in the game, if I had to make a comparison it was probably larger than a good part of the ingame city. There were all manner of vendors present, but a noticeable lack of those of the more arcane variety, guess that the center of racism is also the center of superstition of Skyrim.

We take our time weaving through the assembling crowd and take great care not to bump into people or get bumped into, I even felt someone try and pickpocket me but wasn't at all worried as all of my valuables were safe in my storage.

A small part of me wanted to blow it out of proportion, and I do mean blow, as in fireball but I controlled my inner pyromaniac and satisfied myself with merely making the pickpocket slip and fall on his face with telekinesis, I think I heard a very light snicker from Davos at this.

Finally we arrived at our destination, The White Phial alchemy shop.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

I open the door and am surprisingly greeted with the same scene from the game, with the old Altmer assuring his apprentice he will be fine in a tired old voice.

The apprentice, Quintus if I remember correctly shakes his head "Master, you are far too old to make the journey, we don't even know what lurks in those caves."

Nurelion goes to assure him again but barely gets out an "I can ju-" before he is stopped by a fit of coughing.

His student forces him to sit down "You aren't well to even work much less travel, sit down and I will fetch you some tonic." and walks off to the back rooms, not paying even a bit of attention to us.

I walk over to the counter and greet the old elf "Master Nurelion, it is an honor to meet an alchemist of your renown"

He scoffs at me "Oh stop with that and tell me what you want."

'Rude' I ignore the grouchy asshole's tone and focus on why I am here "If you don't mid me asking, what was that argument about?"

He seems to be almost happy he can complain to someone other than his student if his tone is anything to go by "Oh just an old mer's life's work, is all. I've finally derived the location of the white phial, but my doting busybody of an apprentice won't let me go out and fetch it."

I raise an eyebrow "I mean, not to be another busybody as you call it but you do look like you can barely stand"

He waves me off "I know that, but I can't let the opportunity to finally discover the secret go!"

I humm for a bit and shrug "I could get it for you if you wish"

He looks me over for the first time since I arrived and scratches his beard "Yes, you do feel powerful, you could help this old man indeed. The Phial is buried with it's maker Curalmil, in a long forsaken cave west of Windhelm."

His gaze turns dreamy "Curalmil was a crafty one, even in death. You would need the skill of a master alchemist to reach its resting place" And then gives me a proud look "Luckily for us, I have already created the complete mixture" offering it to me he says "Here, take it. And dont dally I don't have much time left!"

I take the concoction and while I pretend to place it within my robes I ask "Why IS the phial so important to you anyway?"

He sighs tiredly "I have spent my entire life searching for it. It even brought me to this frozen land from Summerset"

"Lucky for you" I mumble and he gives an affirmative grunt.

"Entire years I have spent in libraries and small homesteads, seeking out even the smallest hints of the phial's location." He seems to have aged even more as he speaks "I even named my shop after it in hopes of attracting any who might have heard of it... And now that it is within my grasp, it seems the gods decided to choose me for their amusement"

I nod at his story, pretending to be respectful "A worthy quest indeed, I will set out immediately and find the phial for you with utmost speed"

He makes an expression that I think is meant to be encouraging but just makes him look even older and more worn out.

I leave the shop followed by Davos and head to the gates of Windhelm, as we close in on them

I mutter "I really hope that there are no asshole guards today, my hands feel really itchy to burn something right now"

The derisive chuckling of Davos is not reassuring.

There were indeed asshole guards at the gate, but through the incredible power of being used

to peoples bullshit I manage to not introduce their insides to fresh air.

Checking out the map Nurelion gave me I learn that the cave is about half a day west northwest from Windhelm, thankfully it is just a straight path there with no annoying mountaineering we would have to do.

Now that I think about it, if it was so close to a big city how come it took people so long to discover the place?

Maybe Nords are really just a people designed by the gods to disappoint me... I mean seriously, they turned from a group of mountain-breaking shouting barbarians into just a worse version of the imperials, and now I am empathizing with Ulfric's opinions which is a thought I kill as soon as it enters my mind.

The trip to the forsaken cave is thankfully free of any interruptions, and there was an entire hour during the day where the temperature was above freezing!

After getting to the marked location and a bit of searching we manage to find the cave entrance hidden behind some large trees and piled up stones, the passage inside is thankfully wide enough for us to enter and the moment we do we are almost blinded by the lights

reflected against the perma-frozen walls.

Adjusting my eyes a bit I also notice a terrible stench of blood and excrement.

Davos, who entered behind me takes a sniff and after a bit of thinking whispers "Trolls."

Nodding at his words I cast muffle on the both of us and all the other preparatory spells on myself, before descending further into the cave.

Instead of the Nordic ruin I was expecting, the frozen natural cave goes on for some time, and just when I am about to ask where the trolls were we finally notice them. Three snow trolls standing around a fire eating the remains of something distinctly human-looking.

This was also the first time I actually saw a troll in this life, and let me tell you they are far more intimidating than one might imagine, two and a half meter tall hunks of muscle with arms larger than my torso.

Thankfully I am a mage, so there is no need to get anywhere close to these monsters. I point Davos to a corner and he gives me a quizzical look but I merely point again and summon my staff, he shrugs his shoulders and hides.

The trolls don't seem to have noticed us yet so I take my time overcharging a fireball, one of them sniffs the air and abruptly turns toward me but it is already too late as all he sees is a glowing ball of red flames that soon hit him in the face detonating into a beautiful explosion. The troll I hit directly is almost completely disintegrated while another seems to have lost an arm and a leg, the final one appears to be merely singed and with a roar charges at me with surprising speed, I fire a lightning beam at it destroying one of its hands but it soon reaches me and just as it is about to swipe my head clean off with its remaining hand I use my Magicka-enhanced strength to swing my bladed staff and remove its head in one movement. While I revel in the feeling of power I got from destroying such dangerous creatures I notice the last troll slowly crawling towards me with fury in all three of its eyes, and while I do appreciate their choice of ocular evolution, there is only one fate awaiting it. I put the creature out of its misery with a lightning bolt and hear Davos exit his hiding spot behind me.

He mutters with some surprise "Since when were you able to do all that? The last time I saw you you barely threw around firebolts"

I smirk behind my mask and shrug my shoulders "Just because most magi are lackwit idiots who spend more time training their fetchers and getting drunk doesn't mean I have to follow

their example"

He shakes his head "You are what... 20? 25?"

"17"

I can see his eyes trying to escape his face as he mutters "What the fuck..."

I cackle quietly "The house of Dagoth is a path to many abilities, some might consider...

unnatural"

Davos blinks and then seemingly forces himself back into the present "Yeah sure, whatever you say Sharmat junior, lets get on with this I really need a drink."

I humm as we walk deeper into the cave "Sharmat junior eh? I think I will keep that one"

He stumbles for a second but proceeds to ignore me.

After a couple more turns we are finally met with an old Nordic door that looked like it hasn't

been opened for eras. I approach it and after we both confirm there are no traps enter the

actual place we were here for.

Time to raid some dead Nords! For the honor of Morrowind of course, not at all the loot.

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