I never saw this coming. The Device, my failsafe, was tied to Quorengor’s sponsorship. Having been disavowed, there was no way to cheat death, and death in Skyrim comes frequently.
It could come at the hands of bandits, a pack of wolves; worse, falling off a cliff. I make no claims towards perfection, but I refuse these ignoble deaths. If I am to die, it will be at the hands of a dragon.
To Whiterun, then, and Mirmulnir’s embrace.