Walk by the Shadows

XIII. Runic Origins

Finished with a job at a nearby town, Macayla decided to get dinner and a room at Dawnstar before heading back for Riften in the morning. There weren't many patrons in The Windpeak Inn, but enough people that attention wasn't directed only on her.

"I still think you should've hired a Follower, Agnaris," a man said behind her. He had the guttural voice of an Orc.

"There's no need to waste coin on unnecessary precautions," another man said. His voice was drier, like an older man.

"Many years have passed since your last expedition, my old friend. What if there are bandits? Horkers? A dragon swoops down?"

The older man cackled. "If Akatosh sends down one of his sons to take me to Sovngarde, I will not fight. I am no match for a mighty dragon, but horkers?" He laughed again. "Do not insult my use of magic. Bandits are also inadequate to me, and what bandit would choose to make camp in the ruins of a shipwreck at the edge of the Sea of Ghosts?"

The Orc continued to talk the other into hiring someone, but Macayla stopped listening at the mention of a shipwreck in the Sea of Ghosts. Rune's story of how he got his name replayed in her head: a fisherman found him as a young boy shipwrecked in the Sea of Ghosts and because he didn't know his own name, the fisherman named him Rune after the mysterious hieroglyphic rock in his hand. He couldn't remember the name of that ship he, where he was leaving from or where he was going, or who his parents were; nothing. He had tried to figure out what the markings on his rune meant, but no one could decipher it.

Could these ship ruins be the ship Rune had been on? Could it have the answers to his unknown lineage?

Macayla got up and walked to the two men seated at a table behind her; it was two older men like she thought—one a wrinkling Imperial with white hair surrounding a bald spot and the other a green skinned Orc. "Excuse me," she began, and they looked at her. "I heard you mention a shipwreck, the Sea of Ghosts, and perhaps needing a Follower. You don't have to pay me if you let me tag along. I know I don't look like much, but I am resourceful and can help defend you."

The Imperial lifted his graying eyebrows, appraising her. "What interest do you have in this?"

"I have a friend who was shipwrecked in the Sea of Ghosts, but he doesn't know anything about it. I wonder if this could possibly be that ship."

The Orc turned to the other with a suggestive look.

"Yes, I know you approve, Ushag," he snapped; his friend chuckled.

Agnaris turned back to her with a smile brightening his old eyes. "I guess I wouldn't mind the company; especially such a pretty one."

***

It took three days to reach their destination, 25 miles east of Solitude. Agnaris Colbin was a cheerful and talkative old man, sharing his life as a mage and his work with the College of Winterhold and happy to answer any questions Macayla had about the college. She deflected his harmless questionings about her lifestyle by claiming she was an adventurer and explained Rune's story so he wouldn't ask her specifics.

He honestly told her that he wasn't sure what kind of condition the shipwreck would be in—whether or not it was safe enough to explore—because he had overheard a conversation about the site and wanted to excavate it. He was researching the lifestyles of a clan of Nords called Vednoya, and the details of this ship resembled those the Vednoya used. He had only found brief writings of those seafaring-people in the vast libraries in the College, so he hoped these ruins would be his breakthrough.