A changeling's visit to Skyrim

The rest of the trip to Morthal was uneventful, save for a small group of bandits that tried to hold them up. They were sent running when Fenora gave their leader an bow-and-arrow-lobotomy and the carriage continued on its way despite Fenora’s request to “Drive me closer, I want to hit them with my sword”.

About an hour later the ground got softer and the road disappeared.

“My apologies friends, but I dare not go further than this; the marsh is too treacherous for these wheels.” the driver told them as he stopped just outside the marsh “Morthal’s about a twenty minute walk that-a-way, but be wary; there’s lots of strange goings on in that place, and they’re none too accepting of outsiders, good luck.”

Much of the area ahead was covered in a thick fog as they continued on foot, making it nearly impossible to see anything. Dark purple flowers and fungal pods lined the ground that was not covered with dead bushes and grass. Dead, twisted trees appeared every so often, and occasionally the ground would give way to the swamp underneath them. Overall, it was not a pleasant place, and none of them could understand why anyone would live out here.

Suddenly, they heard a voice far off in the distance, behind a thick curtain of fog. “There are dead things- dead faces in the water!” it yelled in shock.

“Yeesss… All dead, all rotten.” another, raspier voice answered “Elves and men and orcses, and a great battle, long ago. The dead marshes; yes, yes that is the name. This way,” it hissed “don’t follow the lights.”

Sufficiently freaked out, Fenora, Stross, and Lydia continued forward until they herd another set of voices.

“Wait- where’s the road? We’re lost!”

A deep howl echoed through the mashes.

“Aw shit Davey, what is that?”

“I don’t know but I think we should just keep moving.”

A few seconds later, Stross couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore. As much as he’d like to help whoever was out there, they were gone.

Finally reaching a clearing in the fog a bit past sunset, our heroes made it to Morthal. The town was divided by the river coursing through it. On one side was a house and a lumber mill, on the other side of the stone bridge were a set of docks, and a small number of buildings built on what little dry ground there was.

Ah yes Morthal, the setting every 70’s horror movie director dreamed of.

But to Stross, there was something other than the towns’ creepy appearance and locale that bothered him. He first noticed it when he passed one of the town’s guards. If he weren’t a changeling, the chainmail-clad defenders would have looked exactly the same as any other he’d seen so far. Normally the aura a pony, griffon, or zebra (or human in this case) would be clear and radiant around them like a halo of life. But all the guard’s were fuzzy, distorted, and even a little weak. At first he thought it to be an anomaly, but then he noticed it with some of the townsfolk he passed.

He couldn’t bring himself to ignore it.

“Excuse me, guardsman.” Stross called over. The guard gave him no reply.

“Hey, you alright?” he walked closer and tried again. The guard simply pushed his way through him and mechanically continued on his patrol as if he weren’t even there. Stross had seen this many times before.

“Mind control, not a full overhaul though. Allows them to pantomime a normal life, but muddles their minds enough to make them ignore selective threats; might explain why he can’t see me. Changelings use this all the time so they can safely feed, and judging by how weak they look, they’ve definitely been drained recently. But there are no other changelings in Skyrim… are there?”

A group of townspeople gathered to complain about how their jarl was being too passive about the issues at hand. First something about a house burning down, then the guards acting strangely, and finally blaming it all on a mage that recently moved in. However, the Steward taking their complaints would hear no more of it and sent them on their way.

Hearing the troubles of the townspeople, Stross decided to ask about it while Fenora and Lydia rented a room at the inn.

“Excuse me.” he caught them all as they were leaving. The stares he received reminded his time back in Equestria, when he’d dropped his disguise in the middle of a crowded room to be precise. “I umm- I just overheard that you had some- some problems and I, wondered if I could…help.” he nervously trailed off.

“You’d best just stay out of this outsider. We’ll handle our own problems.” one man in the crowd told him firmly, the others grunting in agreement before they left for their homes.

“Hey, if you really want to help, come with me. I’ll tell you what’s been going on.” the Steward said before leading him inside the Jarls longhouse.

“So you want to know what our problems are; where to begin?” the Steward, who revealed his name of Aslfer sighed as he sat across the table from Stross “People have been complaining about strange noises coming from the moors at night, keeping them awake. Hroggar’s house burned down with his wife and daughter inside. And finally there’s that new mage in town, Falion.”

Stross nearly choked on his apple juice “What?” he said, a little louder than he’d meant to.

“Yep, that wizard is up to something, wanderin’ around in the middle of the night like that.”

“No, the one before that.”

“Oh, you mean the noises from the moors?”

“Hroggar’s house,” Stross deadpanned “the one that burned down with his family inside.”

“Oh that, yeah, it’s a real shame about his family.” Aslfir explained sadly “Hroggar claims it was a hearth fire, but gossip says he did it on purpose due to him moving in with Alva the very next day.”

“So what do you think happened?”

“Honestly, I don’t know one way or the other. The circumstances are suspicious, but I just can’t imagine anyone killing their own family for someone else.”

Stross shook his head and sighed “You’d be surprised at what someone will do when their mind’s not there. And horrified at what they’d do when their mind is there. Where did this happen?”

“Just next door actually, next to the inn. Feel free to investigate, gods know that everyone else already has.”

Inside the inn, Fenora and Lydia had been going over their supplies seeing as how Stross had used up the Aperture stones earlier, and they wouldn’t be ready until the next day. The innkeeper was just happy to have some customers for the first time in months, and had told the Orcish bard to keep his music playing down so they didn’t leave. Regardless, they had to literally face the music for the next half hour “free of charge”. Quickly getting a migraine from the music, Lydia went to sleep while Fenora waited for Stross to show up.

Fenora was relieved of having to listen to the song that made even Stross’s terrible lyrics sound like that of a veteran musician’s when a woman walked over and sat next to her. This woman had dark hair, red eyes, and was wearing an outfit that couldn’t possibly have been more revealing without fading into non-existence.

“Well hello there, aren’t you a pretty one. I bet all the men chase after you.” she said seductively “My name’s Alva, maybe we should spend some time together later.” She ran her hand across Fenora’s cheek.

“Ever heard of personal space?” Fenora said in a very annoyed tone as she effortlessly shoved Alva off her.

Quickly recovering from her shock, Alva made another attempt. “But your personal space is so much nicer than being way over there.” she said as she draped her skinny arms over Fenora’s shoulders and nuzzled into her neck. Fenora’s eye started twitching out of annoyance, but before she could throw her neck-mounted molester into the nearest wall, someone else beat her to it.

“Back off! She’s mine!” Stross snarled as the impact shook the building.

Recovering from the concussion she’d just received, Alva looked up to see what just ripped her from her prey. Frowning, she grabbed him by the scruff of his cloak and pulled him in so they were talking face to face.

“So, another life-drinker comes to Morthal.” she dropped her seductress act and bared her pointed teeth “Very well, I’ll let you have your little meal, but the rest of the town is mine.” she hissed, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

“She’s not a changeling. What is she?”

With that, she released him from her grip and left the inn.

“…What was that all about?” Fenora asked.

“Her aura… it was so cold… but not empty, just…”

“I don't know. But none of this bodes well.” Stross answered grimly.

“So let me get all our info straight,” Fenora began her recap “that slut that just tried to work me over was a vampire, and has somehow bewitched the towns’ guards so that she can feed off them, and she’s also involved in the deaths of an innocent family somehow. In addition to that, the ghost of the little girl that was killed talked to you and said to meet her out in the marsh in the middle of the night. And to top it all off, the psychic Jarl’s psychic son told you that some weird wizard is somehow involved.”

“You may have skipped over how awesome I am for finding all this out, but yes, pretty much.” Stross answered her. “Also, what’s a vampire?”

Fenora massaged her temples and forehead, as she had done many times after meeting Stross.

“They’re undead blood drinkers that can’t survive in sunlight; I thought everyone knew that.” she told him in a condescending tone “So… how do we pull apart her schemes? We’re pulling apart her evil schemes, right?”

“Oh you know we are. We need to start in the marsh. Both the ghost girl and the wizard should be there around this time, so let’s see what they know.” Stross decided “Mark my words, that lady won’t be getting away with this on my watch.” A fire seemed to ignite in his eyes.

“Well then let’s get going, Mr. Protector-of-the-innocent.” Fenora teased as she picked him up and carried him out the door like a cardboard statue.

The marshlands were quite alive at this time of night, crickets, wolves, and other unpleasant creatures of the night turned their voices into an eerie symphony in the mist-shrouded landscape. Fenora and Stross were waiting near the edges of town for Falion to come out of his house and make his nightly rounds through the swamp.

“Are you sure he’s coming?” Fenora whispered.

“It’s what everyone’s told me when I asked, along with quite a few other bad things to say about him.”

Less than I minute later, the door to his house opened, and the blue-cloaked figure stepped outside. It was nearly impossible to see him once he had shut the door and the darkness surrounded him, but Stross was able to keep a bead on him. Motioning for Fenora to stay close, they followed him on his trek.

A short while later, Falion had reached some kind of alter. He pulled out a book, some black-ish purple stones, and a few alchemy reagents, and began muttering incantations. Caught deep in his work, he didn’t realize the two people that had followed him out, and were cornering him on either side.

“Hey,” one said as she lightly tapped his shoulder with a mace “what’s up?”

“Gah! What are you doing here? Never mind- you mustn’t speak of this with anyone. I’ll pay you not to tell the Jarl and-

“We don’t want your money-

“Says you.” Fenora interrupted.

“We want answers!” Stross said as he took over the interrogation “What’s happening to the people of Morthal? The Jarl’s son was convinced you’re involved.”

“And you’d take his wild dreams as evidence? He’s a good boy, but that’s absurd!” Falion tried to defend himself.

“A valid point, but what’s all this then?” Stross momentarily took on a british accent as he motioned towards the shrine and the stones “Plus we know that Alva’s a vampire, and we know she’s been mind-controlling the guards so she can feed off the townspeople! So what’s your stake in all of this?”

Falion stood in shock for a moment.

“What did you say?” he blinked.

“I said Alva’s a vampire and-

“And you know this for sure?” Falion said urgently.

“Well it was a pretty big clue when she dropped her act and said ‘So, another life-drinker comes to Morthal… this town is mine’ to me.” Stross turned into Alva for a moment to give a really dumb impression of her.

“So wait… she called you a life-drinker?”

“Yes.”

Falion just stood there for a second comprehending all he’d just seen and heard. Seconds later he was holding Stross on the ground and pouring water on his face while repeatedly yelling “The power of Shor compels you!”

“Falion, what are you doing? Falion, stahp!” Stross yelled through a mouthful of water.

“Be calm, demon! I am curing you of your vampirism, now hold still!”

“Fenora, HELP ME!”

“Hmm? Oh right, sorry; that was too entertaining not to watch.” Fenora finished off the sweetroll she was eating and finally helped her friend.

“NOOO, release me! I must cure this vampire!” Falion yelled as he struggled against Fenora’s grip.

“Firstly, I’m not a vampire, I’m a changeling. Secondly, you need to learn the difference between saving someone and drowning them.” Stross wagged his finger at Falion “And third… what do you mean ‘cure’? Aren’t you working with the vampire lady?”

“Hah! Hardly.” Falion scoffed as Fenora released him “I’ve been working on how to banish vampirism from the afflicted for years now, even before coming to this miserable little town of shut-ins. But you say that Alva is a vampire?”

“Yeah, and a molesty one at that.” Fenora told him.

“That would explain a lot of what’s happened to this town. We must warn the Jarl of this at once!”

And with that, they set off to expose the threat to Morthal.

“Well that didn’t go very well.” Falion said glumly as the three walked out of the longhouse.

“In hindsight, we’re just lucky we weren’t the reason she was up.” Stross pointed out “But seriously, who gets up for hot coco at 2 in the morning?”

“You got a problem with hot coco?” Fenora asked “Hot coco is awesome, especially with little marshmallows, or maybe just one big one.”

“Anyway… we’ll need to gather more evidence if we want anyone to believe us.” Stross reasoned.

“Or we could stop taking this like detectives, and more like hard-boiled cops.” Fenora suggested.

“And just how do you propose we do that?” Falion asked.

“I had to open my stupid mouth.” he said as Fenora kicked in the door to Alva’s house.

“Don’t worry, I do it all the time.” Stross sighed as he walked in with the others “Okay, let’s find something to prove Alva’s a vampire. But keep it down; we don’t need to wake everyone up.”

Just then, a large Nord walked up from the cellar “Who goes there?” he monotoned, raising an axe with a dead look in his eyes. Before anyone could move, a metal cooking pot collided with his head with a loud clang and he collapsed to the floor.

“What?” Fenora said as they looked at her “Pre-emptive self-defense.” she shrugged.

“Well, he’s still alive.” Stross confirmed “But he’s still under that spell, pretty heavily too.” He got flashbacks to the times he was forced to use mind-control himself; it always made him feel sick inside.

“That’s Hroggar,” Falion explained “it comes as no surprise that he’s been made to be Alva’s thrall with how long they’ve been seeing each other.”

“Right, Fen, watch the door." Stross said as he looked through a bookshelf, Fenora gave him a mock-salute "Falion, let’s search for evidence.”

Within a couple minutes of searching, Stross had found what they were looking for; Alva’s journal. Inside described how she was bored with her life, wishing for someone to come and be her ‘knight in armor’. How she met a stranger in the marsh one night, and that stranger happened to be a vampire who had turned her into one herself, promising they’d be together for an eternity if she’d take over Morthal for him; some kind of feeding ground for him and the rest of his followers.

The next passages described her systematic takeover of the town, including how she first enthralled Hroggar to be her protector, then Thronir’s wife Laelette as a servant. Also was recorded the events that spiraled into the disaster. She realized Hroggar’s family would interfere with her plans too much, and ordered Laelette to kill them. But the murders didn’t go as quietly as she’d hoped due to Laelette’s desire to take Tronir’s child for herself, which ended in the fire that put the entire town on alert.

The last page was a recent entry, one about Stross:

-Tonight was certainly an interesting one, and by interesting, I mean I was thrown against a wall by some puny bug while I tried to seduce a new face in town. But surprisingly, that pest was actually some kind of vampire, isn’t that just my luck? A giant vampire bug!

-I can only hope that it will take its little snack and move on; this town is too valuable to lose to that filth, and my situation is precarious enough without some freak that calls itself a vampire to mess it up.

…

“You heartless bitch.” Stross muttered as he snapped the book shut. "And I am NOT a vampire!"

When Stross returned upstairs, he found the situation had quickly gotten out of hoof- er... hand. Someone had seen them breaking and entering into Alva’s home, and now an angry mob had assembled outside, complete with torches and pitchforks. Fenora had barred the door, but it wouldn’t hold for long with all of them banging on it. The door shook on its already weakened hinges as the mob smashed on it again, and three terrified outsiders held it shut with all their might.

“What about Kynareth’s Peace?” Stross rummaged for solutions.

“That shout only works on animals!” Fenora reminded him.

Just then an axe head broke a hole in the door. “Here’s Johnny!” the villager outside yelled.

“…And your point is?” Falion deadpanned.

“These guys just won’t quit.” Stross thought as he felt his strength wane.

“It’s like I’m back in Equestria again, they're in danger so everyone scarred out of their minds and acting out of fear. But they'll just throw blame anywhere without bothering to know the truth. We're on their side and they're about to burn us at the stake. They don’t even know what-

"What the real danger even is; they’ll kill us because they think we’re the enemy.”

As the door was about to burst Stross knew what he had to do, and made a decision; a rash one, but a decision nonetheless. Sprinting for the back window, he dove through and took flight into the night air.

Outside, the mob had grown to nearly a dozen and a half, the town’s guard included. As the door to Alva’s house finally gave way, Fenora drew her swords, hesitant to fight her way through otherwise innocent townspeople. Falion nervously stepped behind her, attempting to put something between himself and the angry villagers.

“There’s the blasted mage!” one of the mob yelled.

“Got an outsider with him. Get them both!”

“Back off!” Fenora growled as she turned her sword points towards the open doorway. “I mean it.”

There was an awkward pause. Now that weapons were drawn, neither side wanted to strike the first blow and put themselves at risk, but teetering on the edge of fight or standstill. Fenora didn’t dare break her stance, lest any of the mob find an opening and cut her down.

But unfortunately, she let her guard down for a split second when she quickly looked to the window Stross had left through. In that moment, a young boy rushed at her with a cooking ladle of all things, screaming at the top of his lungs.

It ended as you might expect. He got in a single poke with the utensil before Fenora had him in a stranglehold between her and the rest of the mob.

“You really shouldn’t have done that, kid.” she said as she put the back of her blade to his neck and addressed the mob. "BACK. OFF. NOW!"

Immediately, the boys’ foolhardy valor was turned into pitiful sobs for mercy. “I’m sorry- please I didn’t mean it- I was just trying to be a hero- don’t kill me- Bawww!” he screamed incoherantly.

“I’m not- Umm, I… okay fine- I won’t kill you. Geez.” Fenora said awkwardly “But you really brought this on yourself you know.”

“I want my mom and dad.” he sniffled.

Fenora rolled her eyes and let him go. For a few moments the crowd just stared in silence as the boy ran back to his parents. A couple of moments later, one of the mob asked “Uhh… what do we do now?” echoing the thoughts of the others.

“Get them!” the angry mother ordered.

“ENOUGH!” bellowed Stross’s amplified voice as a burst of green fire exploded in the sky above them. The crowd turned to see the flaming changeling standing atop the Jarl’s longhouse. The grass and snow vaporized at his feet when he dropped to the ground, the mob fearfully raising their makeshift weapons.

“People of Morthal, WE ARE NOT YOUR ENEMY!” he shouted, the villagers dropping their weapons in fear as they gazed at his pitch-black form. But then the flames on his body dissipated and his tone returned to normal.

“But we know who is to blame.” he said calmly, stepping aside for Jarl Ingrid to speak.

“We have all been deceived.” she said, holding Alva’s journal in her old fingers.