J’Zhirr asks Alfarinn if he has seen a Moth Priest.
Alfarinn asks, “That’s one of them Imperial scholars, right? Old man with a gray robe?”
That sounds about right. J’Zhirr asks if Alfarinn has seen him.
Alfarinn says, “Might be that I have, but I can’t say for sure. I got enough troubles on my mind just tryin’ to scrape by out here.”
J’Zhirr tries to persuade Alfarinn but he stands firm. “Can’t help you, friend. I might remember better if my pockets weren’t so light.” He wants almost 400 gold for the information.
That money-grabbing horse driver. J’Zhirr is not sure whether the information is worth it.
J’Zhirr is just walking down the road, minding his own business when a crazy elf jumps out and attacks. He casts lightning bolts and conjures up wild beasts to fight at his side. Luckily Serana is around for her draining powers make short work of the elf. Travelling with a powerful vampire has its perks.
Serana suggests going to the College of Winterhold. She says, “Well, back before I… you know. The College of Winterhold was the first place I’d think to go for any kind of magic or historical thing. The wizards know about all kinds of things that people probably shouldn’t know about.”
So that’s where we are heading. It is day and Serana puts up her hood to shield herself from the sun. She complains that it is too bright and she does not know how J’Zhirr can stand it.
But J’Zhirr likes the brightness. It reminds J’Zhirr of Elsweyr, although the sun in Elsweyr is much brighter and hotter.
J’Zhirr finds Gilfre, the owner of Mixwater Mill, at the mill. The log cutter is quiet and still as there is nobody to work it. Gilfre says, “I used to have five good men who worked the mill with me. Then this war started and they all ran off. Idiots with mead in their blood.”
Although she is the only one left, Gilfre still tries to work the mill on her own. She says, “There’s plenty of good wood around here, but I just can’t harvest it all by myself. Everyone able-bodied is fighting. Of course, without functioning mills, who will make the arrows for our soldiers? Men have no sense of irony.”
J’Zhirr passes by Mixwater Mill. It is strangely quiet and this one hears none of the usual sounds that accompanies a busy logging business. There are some chickens wandering around but J’Zhirr does not see anybody else. J’Zhirr peeks curiously into the Worker’s House and finds it empty. The place is a mess, perhaps the inhabitants have left in a hurry.
When J’Zhirr stepped out of Cronvangr Cave, he finds Eastmarch is a little misty. The mist makes it hard for J’Zhirr to make out things far away; all he can see are dark shapes. If one stay very still, one can easily be mistaken for a rock. This makes it difficult to tell who are friends and who are enemies.