Chapter 56: Pieces on the Board #56
In the quiet, mist-laden courtyard of Fort Snowhawk, Enthir held the soul gem firmly in his hand, studying the red sigils etched into its surface with growing fascination. He could feel the intricate web of magicka swirling within, responding to his will as he funneled power into it. Before him, the skeletal warriors, clad in ancient, rusted armor, moved in eerie unison. Each raised its blade high, their hollow eyes flickering with a faint, unnatural light as if bound by the same invisible thread that now ran from Enthir's soul gem.
"This… this is incredible," Enthir breathed, his voice tinged with astonishment. "Not once in my life have I encountered such a method. It's as if I hold the strings to each one of these creatures."
His mind raced through the years of black-market dealings, transporting artifacts deemed too volatile or dangerous by the College. He'd handled spell tomes, enchanted daggers, and relics with dark histories—but nothing that granted this kind of shared control over the undead.
"In all my dealings, I've never seen an artifact like this. The only way I knew to dominate the undead was through the Enslave Undead spell—and that's a final act, irreversible, unlike this…"
He trailed off, marveling at the temporary bond that pulsed through the gem, linking him to each skeletal soldier without fully severing their original loyalty to Erik.
Erik, standing beside him, only shrugged, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Your horizons weren't wide enough—that's all there is to it," he said, watching Enthir's reaction with an almost indulgent satisfaction.
"But have no fear, Enthir. You'll find them expanding rather quickly if you continue working with me." He gestured toward the towering walls of the fortress with a confident wave. "You've now seen the fort, the undead workforce, and the gold reserves required to make my vision a reality. I'll admit, the plans we discussed for this fortress may be simple, but simplicity is power in this case."
Enthir nodded, pulling his attention away from the soul gem and focusing on Erik's outline of the vision. He'd seen the rough, ancient architecture of the fort's upper walls, worn by time and weather, yet strong enough to serve as a foundation for their plans.
Erik's instructions were clear, practical. The lower chambers, which housed Erik's laboratories and stores, would remain untouched; they were preserved well and required no further modification. Enthir had seen glimpses of them—vault-like storage rooms lined with scrolls, shelves of potion ingredients, necromantic tools, and relics Erik clearly treasured.
Each item down there was a subtle hint at Erik's past and present power.
"The upper fort," Erik continued, pointing at the sections in need of repair, "will need to be expanded and restored. We'll clear away the crumbling stone, reinforce the walls, and construct quarters for our soldiers and guards. Once that's done, we'll turn our attention outside the walls."
His gaze moved over the area surrounding the fort, the empty fields that stretched out toward the sea and mountains. "Housing for future settlers will be built along this stretch here, enough for those seeking a new life in Hjaalmarch."
Enthir cocked a brow, intrigued. "And who are these settlers? You mentioned something about prisoners?"
"Yes," Erik replied. "They'll mostly be the Thalmor prisoners who choose a peaceful over joining Kaiden's mercenary company. Given the choice, many would rather become civilians here than fight for coin... and that serves my purposes just fine..."
Enthir's eyes sharpened with understanding as he began to see the layers of Erik's plan. "I see… a loyal workforce from the ground up to bring life into the fort and the docks... Settlers bound by gratitude, hardened soldiers led by a talented warrior's hand, and infrastructure paid for by… other enterprises."
Erik nodded, giving Enthir a look of quiet affirmation. "That's the gist of it," he said, folding his arms thoughtfully as he outlined the next steps.
"Once the fort and housing are completed, hide the undead within the catacombs or any secluded spaces within the fort. Let the settlers take on the work for building the docks and roads that connect to the Sea of Ghosts. It'll give them that sense of pride and belonging, something they need to earn their loyalty fully." He trailed off, considering if he'd overlooked anything critical.
Satisfied, he straightened, fixing Enthir with a serious look.
"I'm afraid that's all the time I can spare. I'll have to leave everything in your capable hands from here on out. If you find yourself needing more assistance, don't hesitate to reach out. I can contact Maven; she'd send resources from the Thieves Guild to help… with any 'official' business." He offered the words with a faint smirk, knowing Enthir's distaste for being bogged down by more hands-on involvement in legitimate work.
Enthir's expression flickered, the smooth mask of confidence cracking ever so slightly. "You mentioned… connections to the Guild. You wouldn't happen to be acquainted with Mercer Frey, would you?" His voice carried a cautious undertone, barely detectable, but it was enough to make Erik raise an eyebrow.
Erik paused, studying Enthir's face with growing curiosity. The question was simple enough, but something about the guarded way he'd asked it—and that hint of something more in Enthir's voice—told Erik there was a story behind it. He kept his face carefully blank, watching Enthir's subtle discomfort before a sudden thought dawned on him. A knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I take it Brynjolf paid you a visit?" Erik's tone was light, but there was no mistaking the glint of understanding in his eyes. He watched Enthir, catching the slight twitch in his expression at the name.
Enthir's face paled as he sputtered, "H-how did you…?" His usual suave facade seemed to crumble as he grappled to keep up with the implications hanging in the air. Erik's response was met with widening eyes, the faint smirk on the necromancer's lips doing little to quell Enthir's growing alarm.
"I put Brynjolf on that path myself," Erik said, his voice calm and conversational. "We had a rather… illuminating encounter in Riften. Believe it or not, he even asked me to join the Thieves Guild. A ridiculous notion that still brings a smile to my lips."
Erik's faint chuckle softened his otherwise intense expression, and for a moment, a flash of amusement sparked behind his cold gaze.
Enthir blinked in astonishment, his mind racing to piece together Erik's veiled words. "What are you talking about? Brynjolf said Karliah sent him my way..."
Erik gave a sigh, as if explaining a complicated tale to an overly curious child. "I never said I instructed him to pay you a visit. He approached me, yes. Told me about their… difficulties."
He waved his hand dismissively, as though the Guild's problems were trivial. "Petty thefts gone wrong, and whatnot. He hoped new blood might solve it." Erik's voice took on a slightly mocking edge, though he tempered it with a smile. "Naturally, I refused his offer. But, being in the mood to help, I let him in on a little secret—a hint about the curse shadowing the Guild."
At the mention of a curse, Enthir's confusion turned into outright bewilderment. His mind drifted back to stories Gallus used to share, vague hints about the troubles that began haunting the Guild even before his tragic end. But the idea of Erik, a necromancer with no known connection to the underworld of thieves, nudging Brynjolf in the right direction… it was almost too much to process.
Erik's expression softened into a knowing smile. "Given your… relationship with Gallus, it only makes sense that Brynjolf would seek you out."
The words landed like a calculated strike, knowing and layered. Erik's blue eyes gleamed with a mysterious knowledge that left Enthir feeling exposed.
Enthir's voice was barely above a whisper as he finally spoke, "How exactly do you know about my relationship with Gallus?"
Erik's smile remained fixed, serene as the midnight sea, giving nothing away. "That's something you don't need to know," he replied smoothly, deflecting the question with practiced ease.
In truth, Erik's awareness came from playing the game before coming to this world. Aware of the future events yet to unfold, he knew precisely how things would play out—how Gallus's journal, written in the long-lost Falmer tongue, would end up in Enthir's hands for a desperate attempt at deciphering.
If not for Erik's meddling, it would be the Dragonborn who approached Enthir to seek a way to read it, setting in motion a fated journey that would bring the Thieves Guild face-to-face with its betrayer, Mercer Frey.
But since the Dragonborn had yet to apear, and since fate saw fit to cross Erik's path with that of Brynjolf, he decided to act. And so, he had set Brynjolf on this path sooner, nudging events into motion. Altough he couldn't predict what would happen after he set things in motion, it wasn't hard for Erik to deduce what happened now.
But, of course, he couldn't explain any of that to Enthir—not without revealing far too much.
Noticing the subtle shifts in Enthir's expression—telltale signs he tried, but failed, to mask—Erik's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. Enthir's mind was racing, each revelation pressing him further into a tangled web of intrigue and uncertainty. He was already wary of Erik, but the glimpse of fear now glimmering in his eyes was a satisfying touch.
Erik's powers were formidable, yes, but his knowledge—knowledge that Enthir knew he should not and could not have—painted him as something more terrifying, something bordering on the supernatural. Erik couldn't have hoped for a better impression.
Yet beneath Erik's calm exterior lay an array of countermeasures, prepared long before Enthir ever stepped foot in Fort Snowhawk. Should the dunmer mage decide to reach for more than Erik intended to grant, those measures would ensure Enthir never held an advantage.
But for now, it seemed that Enthir's ambition was sufficiently tempered by caution.
Clearing his throat to break the tense silence, Erik shifted to a more casual tone. "I'll tell you what, Enthir," he began smoothly, "I'll be heading to Riften soon—once I take care of a bit of business in Whiterun." He let his words hang, his tone promising more beneath the surface, before adding, "If you have any way to contact Brynjolf, tell him to meet me there. I'll handle Gallus's journal myself."
Enthir opened his mouth as if to question him, but his words died unspoken, a lingering uncertainty etched into his face. He wanted to ask, to pry for answers—how Erik even knew about the journal, let alone the finer details of the Guild's predicament. But Erik's unyielding gaze gave him pause, and Enthir swallowed the question, realizing he'd get nothing but more cryptic answers.
Finally, with a sigh that betrayed his exhaustion and frustration, Enthir nodded. "I'll let Brynjolf know. Originally, we'd planned to break into Calcelmo's lab and steal his research on the Falmer language…"
He trailed off, shaking his head as if picturing the dangerous path they'd nearly ventured down. "But the idea of incurring the wrath of Markarth's court wizard wasn't exactly appealing."
Erik gave him a sympathetic nod, his tone calm. "Then all is well. A direct confrontation with Calcelmo will do no one any good when I can easily decipher Gallus' journal myself." His gaze held a hint of finality, signaling the end of their discussion.
Satisfied that all had been set in motion, Erik turned his attention toward the nearby shadows of the courtyard. Raising his voice, he called out, "Gabriella! Come here for a moment."
As Erik's words faded into the chill of the courtyard, Gabriella stepped from the shadows. The dark-clad Dunmer assassin moved gracefully toward him, her crimson eyes sharp and attentive, a flicker of intrigue reflecting there as she sank to one knee before him. Her loyalty was evident in her poise, her submission without question.
Erik allowed a faint smile to play at the corner of his lips, clearly pleased by her silent obedience.
"I believe you've already heard what's been discussed," Erik said, his voice carrying the kind of authority that was as much unspoken as it was commanding. Gabriella nodded, her gaze never wavering from him.
"Yes, my lord," she replied, her voice smooth and even as her eyes flickered just briefly toward Enthir, who stood watching with a mix of discomfort and intrigue.
"Since you'll be leading the sanctuary here in Hjalmarch once it's constructed in Snowhawk Fort, it's only fitting you assist Enthir with his work," Erik continued, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
But beneath the words, there was an implicit command that all three understood without it needing to be said: Gabriella was to assist Enthir, yes, but also to keep a close watch on him, to monitor his actions with the precision of a hawk circling its prey. If Enthir harbored any ambitions that clashed with Erik's designs, Gabriella would be there to clip his wings.
Gabriella lowered her head further, her expression one of unwavering loyalty. "As you command, Lord Erik."
Erik's gaze flickered between the two Dunmer, a moment of silent understanding passing through the cold air. A smile, sharp and knowing, crept across his face. His control over these two was absolute for now, and they both knew it.
Then, with a curt nod, Erik turned on his heel, his cloak swirling around him as he strode toward the courtyard's exit. "Then I'll leave you to it."
As he walked away, his footsteps echoed, each one measured and deliberate, until he called out, "Come on, Geri, it's time to go."
A moment later, a small, eager figure bounded from within the keep—Geri, the corgi, appeared with a gleeful bark, his jaws clamped tightly around a femur bone that looked absurdly large in comparison to his small frame. His eyes sparkled with pride, the unmistakable look of a dog well-pleased with himself, as he trotted up to Erik's side.
Erik paused and looked down, quirking an eyebrow as he sighed, "You greedy little mutt, didn't I tell you to stop stealing bones from the skeleton warriors?"
Geri wagged his tail, looking up with such earnest pride that it was almost as if he was oblivious to the admonishment. Erik rolled his eyes, a touch of warmth in his gaze as he reached down to give Geri an affectionate scratch behind the ears.
With a satisfied little snort, Geri trotted beside him, the femur clamped proudly in his jaws, his excitement barely contained as they left Fort Snowhawk. Erik's mind was already on the next step of his journey, but the small, loyal corgi by his side was a grounding presence, a reminder that even in a life as dark and complex as his, there were still simple joys to be found.
Behind him, Enthir and Gabriella watched the figure of their leader recede into the mist, each pondering what lay ahead. The game Erik had set in motion was vast, intricate, and now they were both pieces on his board.
...
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