Salthar made good progress towards his goal. A lone, robed wanderer was an unlikely sight in these dark days, but he took care not to draw undue attention. A high tower, surrounded by smaller ruins that might once have been walls, drew his attention. He wouldn't have stopped, but he wanted to get the lay of the land. He'd traveled this way often in more peaceful times, but with Blight forces roaming around, killing those caught unawares, he could see the wisdom in it.
Surprisingly, many of the stairs leading up to the central tower were still intact. The Altmer vampire climbed them, all the way to the top of the tower. What had once been walls and ceiling had fallen away, leaving the towers interior at the mercy of the elements. The stone there was weather worn, and moss grew in some places. Statues dotted the perimeter of the tower, ancient warriors, in sombre poses, weapons at their sides, on touching the ground. A decisive departure from the usual Nordic architecture.
He stepped to the edge of the tower and took in what he could. The plains, valleys, and hills were quiet. Clouds were approaching from the north, a likely storm. But of the Blight, there was no sign. Not yet, anyways.
Salthars only warning was the sound of a boot scraping against stone. He turned to see a trio of black robed figures, watching him intently. The central figure, wore a horned, full face helmet, though his eyes were visible, gleaming madly. In his hand was a staff, gnarled and twisted. Salthar could tell the three were mages of considerable power. Yet they were not the foul creatures of the Blight. Though, Salthar remembered the Whitescar brotherhood and their leader vividly. Men serving the enemy. It looked like these were no different.
"Our lord commands your death. None shall stand in his way" the man said simply, his voice sounding deeper due to the facial plate. With that, the three attacked, sending a variety of spells at the vampire. But Salthar was already moving, dashing away from the edge of the tower. The mage on the helmed mans right turned, lifting a hand flickering with flame. Salthar was faster, his own spell catching the man in the chest and hurling him towards his companions.
The pair separated and Salthar advanced, hurling bolts of darkness at the helmeted one and his companion. They proved adequate at defense as well, summoning shield-wards, or simply redirecting the magical energy away from themselves. But adequate was never enough in a duel of any sort. Salthar lashed out lightning springing from his fingers, forking towards both men. The unmasked human winced as his ward began to flicker, the lightning assault wearing taxing his magical defenses. Salthar gestured, and the man collapsed backwards, his chest crushed by the vampires spell.
The helmeted mage took the opportunity to drop his wards, and send a gout of flame at Salthar. He grimaced, and extended a hand, the flames parting to either side of him. He retaliated with a whip of darkness, which his opponent narrowly avoided, and returned with a volley of a dozen magic missiles. Salthar let his personal wards absorb the attack, not wanting to waste any more power than he had to. In retaliation, he sent a trio of ice spears towards the mage, who destroyed them in a gesture. 'This needs to end'. Channeling what was left of his not inconsiderable reserves, he brought a great bolt of lightning from the heavens down on the mage. The man, standing in the center of the tower, was driven to his knees.
Then the lightning broke through the mans defences, and there was nothing left but a scorch mark. Salthar sighed, feeling the sudden loss of magical reserves now that the fight was over. A rest would have been welcome, but some things could not wait over long. Before he left, there was one last thing he had to see to. Drawing his sword, he cast a small spell, and the blades tip glowed cherry red. With it, he carved his initials, SV, then, under that,the date. Then, he descended the tower, and left the ruins behind, on his way once more.