Razeil
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Chapter 122: Weigh Anchor, We’re Going Home (EC)
🕑 Added 2026-01-03 16:00:14 +0000 UTCRaven Rock.
After the great battle, everyone gathered again at the Retching Netch to drink. The Dragonborn—who had been gravely wounded—was treated and rested, and in less than two days he was lively as ever. He patted his chest and declared he was fit as a fiddle, and that absorbing Miraak’s dragon soul had also let him learn that powerful Dragon Shout that bends the mind.
“Now I can ride dragons,” he said with a grin.
With Miraak and Mora—the master and servant—dealt with, the undercurrents around Solstheim finally settled. The watchful gaze hanging over the island vanished without a trace. Those who had been controlled regained their senses, and life returned to its usual rhythm.
The Winterhold folk stayed at the harbor to repair the North Sea Ghost. The first shipment of heart stone ore also began to be loaded onto the ship.
Over this stretch of time, there were a lot more smiles on the locals’ faces. The boom in heart stone mining brought generous pay to the main labor force, and it also pulled Raven Rock’s sluggish spending back up. The owner of the Retching Netch was raking it in daily; Fethis Alor, who ran the general goods shop, was beaming; the town’s mercenaries found themselves hired; even the blacksmiths were swamped with big orders.
Both the councilor and the deputy could feel things improving. They wrote to House Redoran describing Raven Rock’s revival, and the House showed a measure of interest, deciding to put in a bit more resources to protect the town’s commerce.
Things really were getting better. Mage Onmund and Mage J’zargo had dealt with the source of the Ash Spawn attacks on Raven Rock—how they did it was a pretty winding story, but the end result was simple: from here on out, there wouldn’t be waves of Ash Spawn launching assaults on the town anymore. With that, the local guards could ease up a little, and spare more hands to protect miners heading out to work.
Everyone seemed happy—so happy that even the moneylenders felt like business was smoother than before.
But not everyone was satisfied.
There was an Imperial named Crescius Caerellius who opposed the Winterhold mining crew. He was very old, with no ability to travel long distances to mine, and after the town’s revival he was one of the few who hadn’t gotten to taste the benefits. He openly accused the College of Winterhold of profiting off Raven Rock’s lives. Luckily, most townsfolk thought he was just talking nonsense, and it didn’t stir up any real trouble.
While Brelyna was still on the ship, Mage J’zargo sought her out and told her about what that Imperial had been saying in the market.
“He says Raven Rock’s veins aren’t exhausted,” J’zargo reported. “He’s calling on the locals to reopen the mine, instead of going out to collect heart stones.”
Brelyna’s expression shifted. “Is there any credibility to what he’s saying?”
J’zargo had looked into Crescius. “His great-grandfather was an East Empire Company adventurer named Gratian Caerellius—an excellent prospector. Once, he was invited to go deep into Raven Rock Mine to investigate something, and he never came back out. After that, the Company sealed off the deeper tunnels and claimed Gratian died in a cave-in. Crescius believes his great-grandfather’s death was suspicious, and he’s convinced the local ebony veins haven’t actually run dry.”
“So there really might be more ore deeper inside?”
“That remains to be proven,” J’zargo said, arms folded. “But once it’s confirmed, the locals will never risk going out to mine again. They’d rather work in a comfortable underground mine. It’s safer, and the commute is easier.”
Brelyna nodded. “And more than that—if the mine’s prosperity is confirmed, House Redoran will definitely send more manpower and pour more resources into Solstheim. If that happens, Winterhold’s influence here will be heavily weakened. Plans to open schools and establish a branch of the College will face serious obstruction. We might even reach the point where our merchant ships can’t dock near Solstheim at all.”
“Exactly.” J’zargo’s face turned grave. “It’s time to make a decision, my lady.”
Brelyna fell silent in thought. After a long moment, she said, “We can’t let the ebony mine reopen. Bribe that Imperial—make him shut his mouth from now on.”
“Should we inform Mage Skyl?” J’zargo asked.
“No. He doesn’t need to know.” Brelyna’s tone hardened. “He’s a softhearted good man, and he’ll definitely choose to help the locals restore the mine.”
J’zargo smacked his lips. “Mage Skyl is just too generous. Knowledge or wealth—he’ll share either.”
“Yes. He doesn’t understand. Politics isn’t sharing—it’s taking.”
As they spoke, Brelyna’s phone suddenly rang.
[Cheerful music]
“It’s Mage Onmund.” She answered. “Hello?”
“Mage Maryon! Guess where I am? I’m down in Raven Rock Mine.”
“What? Are you alone?”
“No—came with everyone. This morning we were drinking at the Retching Netch, and we heard an Imperial named Crescius pouring his heart out, so we went up and asked if he needed help… anyway, now we’re all exploring the part of the mine that the East Empire Company sealed up back then. It’s an ancient Nord clan ruin! And there’s a ton of ebony ore down here!”
Brelyna’s vision went dark. Fuming, she snapped, “Put Mage Skyl on the phone!”
A moment later, Skyl picked up. “Hello? Maryon—we’re adventuring. Our party’s even short a person. Want to come along?”
“Mage Skyl, listen to me…” Brelyna explained her worries clearly. “So—you can’t let this mine reopen.”
“I’m guessing you’re going to say I don’t understand politics again.” Skyl sighed on the other end. “Worst case, we can just buy heart stones at a higher price later. Or work with House Redoran. But keeping production costs low by leaving workers in poverty—that’s not something I agree with.”
“We’ve already helped plenty. The miners’ living conditions in Raven Rock have improved drastically. What more do you want us to do—treat the workers like slaveowners and worship them?”
“If I could, I’d want everyone to be fed and clothed without worry.” Skyl’s voice stayed calm. “Why do you think our enchanting industry is pushing automation? Isn’t it to free people from heavy, repetitive labor—so they have more time to study and research?”
“That kind of future is too far away for us.”
“No—exactly the opposite. I think that future is very close.” Skyl said. “We’ve already found the key.”
Brelyna hung up, dejected. She waved at the Khajiit beside her. “Let’s leave it at that. Thanks for your trouble, Mage J’zargo.”
“J’zargo is happy to help.” The Khajiit mage didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t be discouraged, Mage Maryon. At the end of the day, hiring locals to mine was only ever to give them a livelihood. If they now have a better choice, we don’t need to keep ‘looking after’ them.”
Brelyna blinked, suddenly enlightened. “Right. Look at me—I got stuck in a dead end without realizing it. Anyway, most of Solstheim’s heart stones are out in the wilds. House Redoran only cares about the veins under Raven Rock; they don’t have the capacity to control the rest of the land. Those heart stones will still be ours in the end.”
The day before the North Sea Ghost finished repairs, Raven Rock Mine reopened. In the tavern, Onmund loudly told the story of their underground adventure: they solved the tomb’s puzzle, defeated Nord draugr, and even dealt with a lich that had been sleeping there—an absolute victory. The tale of the old adventurer Gratian resurfaced too. It turned out he hadn’t died in a mining accident at all—he’d been attacked by draugr, bled out, and died as a proper explorer, not as some unlucky fool.
The locals returned to work in the mine, and were delighted to discover that deeper inside, ebony ore was as plentiful as seashells on a beach.
On the day the Winterhold crew boarded ship, the entire town gathered at the docks to see them off.
Councilor Lleril Morvayn gripped Skyl’s hand tightly. “Kindhearted people—when you arrived, Raven Rock was bleak and withered. When you leave, it’s flourishing. Your contribution is extraordinary. House Redoran will not forget what you’ve done.”
Townsfolk carried local specialties onto the ship, reluctant to part with the crew.
Skyl called out loudly, “Raise anchor! We’re going home!”
“Come back again!” Bralsa Drel cupped her hands like a megaphone and shouted up to the deck. “Raven Rock will always welcome you!”
Everyone shouted together, “May Azura light your road ahead!”
The North Sea Ghost, slowly pulling away, sounded its horn once. Facing the sinking twilight in the west, it vanished beyond the edge of the sea.
