The story so far: Skavild is hiding in Bruma and has agreed to take his son Rufus on a trip to the ruins of Cloud Ruler Temple.
"Do you need the toilet before we go into the ancient temple, Rufus?" said Skavild.
"No."
"All right, but I'll be cross if you tell me you do the minute we get in."
"Who lived here, Da?"
"Ancient warriors called the Blades, who protected the Emperor, and would have fought dragons too, if dragons were real."
"Are dragons not real, Da? What about Uncle Derkeethus?"
"Uncle Derkeethus is an Argonian, son. They all look like that."
"You're not very good at stealing things, are you, Da?" said Rufus. "We've been here ten minutes and you still ain't stole nothing."
"Quiet, son, Da's trying to pick a lock."
"I bet Auntie Eldaline could pick that lock and steal everything in the temple before you can say Elven Floozy, Da."
"You shouldn't call people that word, son."
"I saw Auntie Eldaline put must've been forty silver candlesticks down her ladies' front armour in the Secret Vampire City. Auntie Eldaline's good at collecting treasure, Da."
"Rufus, Da's busy."
"We'll have to go in the blasted front armour. I mean front door." Skavild said quietly. "That side door's locked tight as a stone. Be very quiet, when we go in, Rufus."
"LOOK AT ALL THEM SWORDS ALL OVER THE ROOF DA CAN YOU SEE THE SWORDS LOOK THERE'S LOTS."
"Rufus, you know how some words mean different things in different towns? Well, where your Da comes from, in Solitude... Shor's Bones, what a mess. The place is picked clean. People've got no respect. I wonder if there's anything left in the armoury to steal."
"Why's it so dirty in here, Da?"
"Well, there was a big battle before you were born, when I was just a little boy, about your age. The Thalmor came here and destroyed the temple and killed all the Blades who still lived here. Or most of 'em, and..." Skavild remembered not to say everything he had been going to say. "Well, yes, all of 'em. They're all dead and there's none left, now."
"Well, why'd they do that? If there are dragons, who's going to fight 'em now?" demanded Rufus. "Bet the Thalmor feel pretty stupid now."
"Well, son, for one thing, obviously there's no dragons, and for another thing, the way they see it, there shouldn't be anything anyway. No Nirn, no Skyrim, no Cyrodiil, no humans, no nothing. Just elven gods floating about, doing nothing. Sounds idle if you ask me, but that's what they want out of life. Err, no life. 'Cause life's all wrong, they think, and a blasphemous distortion of divinity. So it's really hard to make 'em see your point of view."
"No, Da, you're not listening, they killed all the dragon slayers and now they can't slay any more dragons. That's just stupid. Everyone'll be dead."
"You're right, son, you should tell your Auntie Eldaline when you next see her."
A helpful door led to the armoury from the inside, and even more helpfully, this one was not locked. Evidently it had once been, and battered through the middle so that it swung open on tortured hinges. There was pristine elven armour lying amongst the bones and rusted iron and steel. This did not surprise Skavild. Moonstone and quicksilver took more than a few decades to look old. "Do you think that the Elves are happier now that they're dead, Da?"
"These ones, prob'ly as happy as when they were alive." said Skavild.
"Look, Da. Helmets. Do you suppose they've still got heads in 'em?"
"Thanks for pointin' out the possibility, you little bastard, let's get out of here."
Rufus' philosophical foray had lasted only a short time, but Skavild was proud of him.
He was not, however, proud of himself. He thought of the elderly priest he had met near Falkreath and wondered if a soldier who counted among the architects of this devastation could really have turned into a sweet old elf, and if he had been right to spare him the fury of Delphine's vengeance.
"Da, I've been thinking, all the way runnin' round the wall."
"Really, Rufus?"
"Well, half the way, and I don't think Ma will be happy you coming back without a helmet or some swords to sell to Burdsson. Uncle Derkeethus'll have to come up by himself, and he'll get his eyeballs sucked out by ghosts, even if there aren't no ghosts, Da, honest he will."
"Where are you going?" Skavild sighed, as Rufus flew headlong into the side door.
"Ahh! Ahh! Da, I hurt my nose, I hurt my nose. Oh, I'm a better lock picker than you, though."
Skavild watched as to his horror the door drifted open. "Rufus, come out of there, that door was locked earlier. At least let me get a torch."
"There," he said a few minutes later, once inside the side door. "This is better, isn't it? This must be the library. Won't be nothing scary in the library."
"Da I don't want to go in." Rufus insisted, and disloyally used Count Spoonface as a human shield.
Skavild carefully chanced the frost-covered steps to a pile of upended bookshelves. "Keep close behind me. Oh, gods." he added suddenly, and more quietly.
The two wings of Cloud Ruler Temple were more modern than the main body, by many hundreds of years. Skavild could see two figures across the debris and fallen timber, very tall and golden, and standing very still in black robes.
"Hey!" he cried. "What do you think you're doing, scaring me and my boy to death like that, you pair of dozy limp vegetables?" But he did not mean it unkindly.
"I'm not scared, Da."
"And I don't know what you think you're doing, calling Junior Archivist Linvel names like that." said Junior Archivist Halthir.
"I thought it was a terrible ghost." said Very Junior Archivist Linvel.
"Why aren't you back in the Summerset Isles, Tsun's Telescope?"
"Da, we should kill 'em, like we talked about." Suggested Rufus.
"This must be the famous little Nordling called Rufus." said Halthir.
"He is very like you, Skavild." said Linvel. "How glad I am that you were not a terrible ghost."
Skavild firmly deprived Rufus of his wooden sword. "Did you miss your boat?"
"No, we were still ..." began Linvel.
Halthir said, "We were asked to stay behind on a mission of moderate importance. I am sorry, Skavild. If I'd known you were in Bruma, we would have said hello before now."
"Moderate importance?" said Skavild.
"It is terrible." said Linvel. "He could be anywhere in the mountains."
"The Second Archivist's gryphon is missing." Halthir added, for clarification.
"Missing? Well, Eldaline's not going to like that. Is she in... err... is she is Cyrodiil too?"
"No."
"No." said Junior Archivist Halthir and Very Junior Archivist Linvel.
Halthir went on explaining. "We were awaiting the return of a search party in the Jerall Mountains, and decided to have a look round."
"It is so interesting to see the library of those who wreaked such destruction in our archives."
"Destruction?" Skavild sighed, deciding that Linvel probably meant 'accidental misfiling of academic journal'.
"It is too distressing to remember." she said, which did nothing to disabuse Skavild of his theory.
"Archivist Linvel was all alone in the Daedric Geology Loft the night that assassins broke into the Archives of Alinor." Halthir explained.
And accidentally misfiled some academic journals. Thought Skavild.
"Well, there aren't any assassins here, Linvel, just bones." he said aloud. "But what are you both looking around for?"
"We were conducting a little research in the ruins." said Halthir. "It's really very boring."
"But not too boring for me." added Linvel.
"Boring?" said Skavild. "When I first took you out book-hunting, you were afraid to follow me into the barrows, and here you are. I'm proud of you. What research are you doing?"
"Perhaps your helper would like to play a part in our studies?"
"Eh?" said Rufus.
"From the armoury, fetch me all the old-looking grey helmets that have large holes inside, and on either side. And any cuirass that looks as though it could be worn by a very tall person."
"I don't understand."
"I have ten Septims for you."
"Give me two minutes." said Rufus.
"There." he said. "I found some really big armour. But only this old helmet had holes in. None of 'em had heads in, Da. There weren't heads in none of the he..."
"Good work, son." said Skavild.
Linvel hid behind Rufus. "Are you sure there aren't any heads?"
Halthir shook it up and down a few times. "Junior Archivist Linvel, there is most certainly no head in this helmet. It is far too old to have been used at the time the temple fell, anyway. We are in luck. Would you be so good as to try it on, and tell me how it fits?"
"It fits very comfortably, Archivist Halthir."
"That's a funny hat." said Rufus, forgetting why they were there.
Next it was Archivist Halthir who sighed. "I see. Well, would you try on the rest of the armour? We might as well leave with some conclusive proof. Whatever our findings, the Second Archivist will be very happy with us, when we next see her."
"Conclusive proof of what?" shouted Skavild. "What are you concluding, tell me or I'll hold this torch here forever until you do, Rufus, I don't know where you found that fibula but put it back."
"It is most delicate research." said Linvel. "Excuse me, I must go and record my findings for Archivist Halthir in an unobserved space."
Very Junior Archivist Linvel appeared at the top of the steps to Cloud Ruler Temple, wearing a great deal of the armour Rufus had discovered by rifling through the armoury with great enthusiasm and no regard for anybody's dignity. "It is a very good fit." she said. "But the front is very draughty."
"That's called the ladies' front armour." said Rufus.
"You look very droll, Junior Archivist Linvel." said Junior Archivist Halthir.
"Don't listen to these idiots, Linvel. You look very interesting. I mean nice, you look very nice. Now, will somebody tell me what's going on?"
Linvel said: "I will go and change back into my robes."
"And the incriminating armour will be buried in a deep hole somewhere on this mountain." explained Halthir.
"Perhaps Skavild and the young Nordling would help us in digging a deep hole?"
"I've got indigestion!" Rufus announced happily.
"How'd you get indigestion, you greedy little scoundrel? We've been walking for hours."
"Ma gave me sandwiches."
"Why didn't you offer me a sandwich?"
"Ma said you've got an Elven Floozy to make your sandwiches." said Rufus.
"Have you spoiled your dinner?" said Skavild. "We're going to the Jerall View Inn, or I suppose you'd forgotten?"
"Elven Floozy?" said Junior Archivist Halthir.
"Archivist Halthir, what is a Floozy?" said Very Junior Archivist Linvel.
"It is obviously not very good at making sandwiches, as Skavild doesn't have any."
Skavild said, "Never mind that, you're both invited for dinner too!"
And I'll remember, He thought, where they bury that armour. Blades armour to fit an Altmer. Nothing the Thalmor would want to bury more. That's a job for the Bureau of Advanced Communications, but it's scattered to the five winds. And I'm just going to come back and dig it up later anyway.
"Ahh!" cried Rufus, falling over. "Hey, Da, this is where you showed me that rabbit."
"It's not a rabbit, son, it's an onager, or a mangonel, we'd be able to see better if it was in one piece."
"I thought it was some sort of catapult." said Halthir.
"Oh, gods, man." said Skavild. "I know you're not a military elf, but have some pride in proper terminology, you cultural barbarian. It's an Aldmeri one, as well, so you should at least recognise it."
"An Aldmeri rabbit?" said Linvel. "How peculiar."
- continues -