"Thanks. Any advice before I let Meridia know my intent and set out?"

He shake his head.

"Well. I suppose I should do this, then."

When she returns to the back room, Sigaard doesn't accompany her.

The stone, the beacon, is sitting there on a shelf, innocently, still just looking like an oddly-shaped pebble.

She'll pick it up.

"Hello," she says. "I'll take the beacon to your shrine."

i̴ ̸am ͟gla͘d͏

are͏ you̧ ͜r͟e̵a͜dy̶ tơ ̷lȩav͏e

"Yes."

do̷ you͟ k͡no̡w̨ the way

"I think I do - there's an indication of where the shrine might be - but some guidance wouldn't hurt."

i wi̸l̢l ͞hel͢p ͜i̵f͜ ̡į ͏can

"Thank you. I'll set out with the morning - which's soon enough."

under̡stoód̛

Having gotten permission from Malielle, she takes the beacon with her as she gets her things together, sets it on her bedside table while she steals a few hour's sleep, then sets out as the sun is peeking over the horizon.

"So," she says once she's out of the guards' hearing range. "I'm guessing starting out south-southwest?"

y͞e҉s

She nods, and starts walking, keeping an eye out for something that looks like the mountain in the vision. It's a three day walk to Dragonbridge, and there's two major turn offs before that - to the Thalmor Embassy about a day out, and a broad path leading to the northern coast, forts, and mining towns about two days out.

The mountain is unfortunately not terribly distinctive.  But with a map and a little help from Meridia she'll be able to find, a few days out, a winding path uphill, feeble and long-disused, with a sign warning against following it where it breaks from the main road.

t͞h͞at is t͜hȩ ̀w͏ay

She's good at cross-country hiking fortunately, and has the right gear for the long walk and the climate. She turns off the road, asks, "Anything I should be on the lookout for?"

i̵ ͢d͟o͏ ͟n̨o͢t̕ ̢k͟n̸o͠w h͠òw ̧mu͡c̵h̡ ҉t͢e͝r͝ri͝to̧r͜y t҉h͜e͠ defilers h̀ave c̡l̸a̡im͞e̷ḑ ͢as t҉hei͠r ҉o͝w̵n

But the journey is quiet for a while.

Still, she'll be cautious as she walks, paying attention to her surroundings, looking for signs of ruins or habitation or enemies.

The road winds through chilly mountainous woods.  The days are still.

But one night, she may perceive something lurking outside her tent.

She'll put her hand on her sword, climb gently to her feet, and listen for a moment. 

There is something that is not entirely unlike wind, and something that is not entirely unlike whispers.

She steps out of the tent.

Two pinpricks of red light, like glowing eyes, stare back at her -

- whatever it is that's outside her tent, it howls, rasps, rears back -