XXXV - The Citadel of Dagoth Ur

Fen’s eyes adjusted slowly to the light. She was in a stone chamber, eerily reminiscent of Ilunibi with its draping vines and melted Sixth House candles. At the far end of the chamber, an familiar figure stood silently in the blood-coloured light of the candles.

XXXIV - Assault on Red Mountain

The next morning, Fen moved in a dreamlike state. She and Julan woke easily, made sure all their things were in order, and silently left the sleeping Tower of Dusk. Without speaking, Fen pressed the switch on the pylon and the first gate rattled up. They had barely made it through the second gate when ash began to blow down the tunnel, the strongest winds they had faced yet. Clutching her scarf around her face, Fen narrowed her eyes against the ash and pressed onward, out of the tunnel and up the slope.

XXXIII - Sunder

Just as they had yesterday, Fen and Julan rose early the next morning and started their third climb up Red Mountain. The wind blew as wildly as ever, and Fen had to keep both hands on her hood to keep it on her head. It took them nearly two hours to battle and climb their way to Citadel Endusal, a Dwemer stronghold built precariously into a steep slope. In the small entryway, they paused to shake the dust out of their clothes and take a swig of water from Fen’s skin.

XXXII - Ghostgate

The air tasted sweet upon her tongue. The sun’s pleasant warmth enveloped her skin. Her hair hung loose, and it danced around her face on the breeze, long and dark. She opened her eyes and stared down at the vast lands spread out below her, stretching far in every direction beneath a deep blue sky scudded with clouds. The grassy cliff she stood upon stretched downward, leaving the base of the mountain impossible to see. She felt the cool breeze sigh out from the lip of the slumbering volcano, spreading a sense of calm throughout the land.

XXXI - The Living God

Fen had not seen the Royal Palace of Mournhold until she was seven years old. She remembered the moment precisely, as if it had happened moments ago. Her aunt, or the woman she had thought to be her aunt, held her hand as they stepped into the tall-ceilinged, light-filled room hung with rose-colored banners emblazoned with the Royal crest. Barenziah and Helseth had been sitting on their twin thrones at the head of the room on their dais, leaning toward one another and speaking quietly. The air was sweet from the planters of Timsa-Come-By that lined it, and she remembered thinking that Barenziah’s deep green robe was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

XXX - Hortator and Nerevarine

I apologise for the lack of an update last week. Real life got in the way. I will try to make sure it doesn't happen again.

The sun had not yet risen when Fen and Julan set out for Tel Branora. The boat ride was nearly six hours, and Fen spent the majority of the time on deck, watching the smooth gray rocks of Azura’s Coast drift sluggishly past. It was midmorning when they arrived at the docks of Tel Branora, a crooked Telvanni town that was situated in a gloomy, rock-covered valley by the water. The skies overhead were gray and heavy with waiting rain.

XXIX - House Telvanni

Fen had, thankfully, experienced little interaction with the Telvanni during her time on Vvardenfell. The ancient and profane wizards made her nervous, for she knew that they had reputations of being less than stable. Now she only felt a fraction more confident as she and Julan teleported into the Mages’ Guild near Sadrith Mora and walked into the Telvanni town under a white sun in a stoneflower-blue sky.