His trip to the old hunter’s camp was uneventful, peaceful, and relaxing as the small boat slipped through the smooth waters on his way there. When he arrived at the camp, it was empty, and he took some time to scout around the campsite to make sure nothing was wrong. He paused and looked across the lake towards where the Alchemist, Anise’s cabin was located.
He could barely see the cabin across the headwaters of the White River through the dense forested area. You could see the smoke coming from a fire in the fireplace, and the roof top sticking up between the trees up on a ridge from where he stood.
He waded up stream, closer to the calm waters of the lake, so he could cross over where the waters were shallow. He made his way across then looked back towards where he had seen the smoke lifting into the still morning air.
He made his way up to the cabin and went around to the front to find an old lady sitting in a chair. He sensed she expected him. He thought, “More than a mere alchemist, possibly a witch. Rose was smart to caution him.” She greeted him with “A good morning to you. I see you’re here looking. You know I was a beautiful woman in my youth with men from the courts of the great cities vying for my affections.”
She seemed to pause in thought. He spoke, “You must be Anise, I was told you might have some potions, vegetables and such I might get.” He watched her but as she didn’t respond immediately, he said, “Rose sent me over, we’re trying to help someone not feeling too well.”
She replied, “Well dearie, go on in and look around, I am sure you’ll find what you need.” You responded, “Thank you, I’ll get what I need and be on my way. I’ll let Rose know you were very gracious.”
With that he entered the cabin, He saw what he needed sitting at the table all together as if she knew before he arrived and laid it out for him.
He picked up the things Rose had requested he get, stepped outside, and thanked Anise. He then began his walking towards Riverwood to drop off the damaged Cuirass of Rigmor with Hedren at Alvor place.
As he, the adventurer came across the way he stopped and looked up at the old Nordic barrow. He then heard a whisper, this time it spoke the word, “Ro”. Once again, his blood stirred, and a sense of fate overwhelmed him. He thought, “What could this mean, first the word “Fus”, now “Ro”.
Those words sound familiar to what he had read once in a traveler’s book about the dragon walls. He believed it to be a loose reference, not necessarily one a scholar would use. He knew there were runic symbols carved on each wall. They were said to be the speech of the dragons.
He thought briefly, “likely something found in the songs of Bards, song makers, and explorers who were always looking for new inspiration to inspire their songs or writing. “
He mused, “Dragons had not been seen here in a long time. It was back during the first era they were last heard flying or speaking their strange language in the vaults of heaven above. “
He made his way down to the river and saw Riverwood in the rising light of dawn. He thought, I better make it into town, look around and speak with Hedren about repairing the cuirass.
When he came to the open entry, he saw Hedren was working the forge. He also noticed the posters of Rigmor were still up.
The adventurer set the piece of armor on the table. Hedren responded, “Are you crazy, what are you two thinking? Why bring that around here? The crest of Bruma is a dead giveaway as to who it belongs to.”
