Upon arrival back at Winterhold Se’rith and Brelyna parted ways but both sure in the knowledge that bonds made in battle are hard to break. After resting in her quarters for a while, she sorted out her equipment and changed out of her adventuring gear (it felt she hadn’t been out of her boots for an Era). She sifted through some of the musty old tomes she’d got from Fellglow Keep. The three tomes Urag wanted were of great interest. One was titled ‘The Last King of the Aeylids’ and it dealt with the expulsion of the Aeylids from the Imperial Province. On Atreaum was of great interest to Se’rith as it was about the Psijic Order while the last tome ‘Night of Tears’ was a history of Saarthal. It described the elves sacking of the city and the subsequent human counter led by Ysgramor and his 500. It also talked about a dark secret that Ysgramor hope would stay buried under Saarthal. Was this what Tolfdir and her had found in Saarthal. She gathered the books up and headed to the Arcaneum. She dropped all three when she entered the Hall of Elements to be greeted with this sight!
What in Oblivion was that thing doing there? It spun of its own volition and runes of an undetermined script glowed on its surface. It bathed the Hall of Elements in an eerie blue light. Tolfdir was there and so was Ancano, looking longingly at it. Tolfdir saw her and beckoned her over telling her Urag had been asking around for her. Great! The orc was probably annoyed, no surprise there. He asked her to hold off nay questions until she’d seen Urag.
The orc was there in his usual place, sat at his desk like a Daedric Prince overlooking some small plane of Oblivion. His deep, growly voice boomed across the Library when he saw her carrying the three bulky tomes. He was impressed she was still alive, the closest thing this tusked green giant had ever told her to a compliment. He took the books over and his clawed hands did not match the care and attention with which he handled them. He noticed ‘Night of Tears’ and told Se’rith that Tolfdir would want to know the information contained therein, he’d assumed Se’rith had already read them. His face broke into what must have been a grin, not a pretty sight I tell you, when she produced Shalidor’s writing. He bellowed out a hearty laugh and grabbed the rolled up scrolls. He then went off muttering to himself about translating them, but not before he gave Se’rith a gift! Her jaw dropped ot the floor, Urag giving her a gift. What next dragons flying through the air?
Urag had bestowed 5 books to Se’rith, 5 books he said, ‘that are going to help keep that skinny little dark arse of yours alive.’ Very nicely put Urag. Se’rith browsed the titles, A Complete Catalogue of Weapon Enchantments. Daughter of the Niben. Racial Phylogeny. Response to Bero’s Speech, Se’rith knew Bero was a destruction specialist of years gone by. The last title was The Black Arts on Trial, its cover was adorned with a sundered skull and finished in exquisite black leather. She’d certainly be busy reading through them tonight. But first to find out what that thing down below was.