The suspicions over the Orc general’s state of mind prove warranted as he has fallen to the sleepless dream of Vaermina. Once more I am to Quagmire.
As I follow Godrun’s memories through Vaemina’s mirrored portals I watch as his treachery is fed by injustice and the fickle mortal mind is marked ‘gainst friend and ally.
I know this is but a dream, and yet I can clearly see spectres lurking in every shadow under the crimson sky. I hear the spectre’s wails carried upon the astral winds that howl through the jagged rocks and broken ruins. I feel the familiar weight of my shield and hilt of my sword which I grip ever tighter as the spectres close in around me. And I can taste mine own blood as a spectres icy talon cracks into my jaw, and as I gasp for breath I taste the acidic air deep in my throat. But I know this is but a dream… because I can smell nothing.
Finally I find Godrun’s true self and come face to face with the insidious Omen of Betrayal. A monster, a horror, as artful and devious as it is brute. Yet the Omen of Betrayal has itself been betrayed, by every Watcher that his Daedric masters have sent against me. In Quagmire, in Coldharbor, in the Daedric anchors that has defiled Tamrielic lands, I have faced you a hundred times and I now know your every trick at every turn. I know never to look an Omen in the eye.