I second Revan's sentiments. Those might not be normal wolves... Looks like Ro-El might be putting his new armour to use very, very soon.

Excellent update, Jack.

I had planned this to happen for a while, but it feels like cheating now. Damn.



As a Skaal, I was not afraid of wolves. Oftentimes, I’d watched them from a close distance as they hunted, each individual moving like a gear in a Dwemer machine, each moving to complement the movements of the pack as a whole. Wolves were brilliant hunters and I respected them, but I did not fear them. As the Skaal had respect for the wolves, the wolves had respect for the Skaal. We were neighbours and never squabbled. Sometimes, we even helped each other out, by presenting food and protection to those lost in the wilderness while wounded.

As such, my reaction to the howls where not strange at all. If I’d known however, I would have done something quite different. Anyway, I landed the Wing on a nearby hill and stuffed it into my pouch. After that, I casually strode through the snow towards the wooden huts. There was a storm brewing, and the wind deafened my hearing for a bit. Because of that, I did not hear the warcries and distinct sounds of battle till it was too late. I was an arrowshot away from the village when I finally caught on.

,,Ok, this is bad.” I muttered as my eyes tried to pierce the darkness of the night. There was a slight amount of light coming from the various campfires, but it was only enough to see vague silhouettes. The Skaal were fighting against Draugr, Spriggans, Rieklings? It was hard to see. I took a single step forward to reach a better vantage point.

The snow in front of me exploded. Something dark flew up. I backflipped on pure instinct and managed to avoid the swipe of its hairy paws, though I still got a large amount of the damn thing’s spit in my face. I still could not make out more than a silhouette and two yellow eyes as it lunged at me. Obviously, it was out for my blood. I had other ideas. I snapped into the ‘Floating Butterfly’ close-range evasion technique to dodge it. The Floating Butterfly is highly aggressive for a martial art focussed on evasion. While most styles try to increase the distance, the Butterfly calls for closing the distance as far as is possible and then moving around the opponent’s arc of attack. It also calls for the user to be extremely light on his feet, more floating than standing.

It is my favourite style for evasion and I complement it with an offensive style which seems to be simply meant to be used in conjunction with the Floating Butterfly. The Stinging Bee, which is all about hitting the vital parts with quick strikes of the fingers when they are least prepared.

In this case, I hopped between its arms and moved into position for my next move. A smooth switch to the Stinging Bee later, and the tips of my finger dug into the fur, piercing the skin like an arrow between two ribs. I withdrew my hand, jumped on one of its arms to use it as a springboard and then followed through with a knee to the throat. The creature reeled back from the assault. I moved away from it and waited anxiously. After three tense seconds, it fell down on its face, killed by both a partially crushed heart and a crushed windpipe. The heart had been the worst one. Suffocation takes a bit longer to kill. Now that it was dead and no longer moving, I got the opportunity to see it properly. But first I wiped the spit from my face.

It was a wolf, a humanoid wolf about as tall as your average Nord. In other words, very tall. The claws looked razorsharp and I considered myself lucky for avoiding them. The same thing could be said about its mouth.
,,Ok, so the Skaal are fighting off a raid by big wolves. I heard of this before. Err…When the moon turns red with the blood of the prey, the h…Ehm…Crap.” I broke into a run as I finally realized the meaning of all the signs I’d seen. This was bad, really bad. In fact, it was the Skaal version of the end of the world. Only instead of being a story, it was really happening.
,,Brilliant. I get to save Morrowind from a god and I get to fight werewolves here as a warm-up. This is so not nice.”

More werewolves leapt out of the darkness as I approached the village as fast as my legs could take me. I would have preferred to tackle the problem as an agent, by slipping on the armour and releasing the Wing before showering everything that moved with Fireburst scrolls. But time was not on my side so my only option was to tackle the problem as a Nord. Take one sword, put the pointy bit into the hairy thingy, repeat till all hairy thingies are gone.

My rapier flashed in the light of a campfire. I stabbed in the knee of a werewolf, rolled between its legs, flipped up backwards and stabbed a second time, now in an eye. The thing shrieked before crashing down into a broken heap.
,,Roland!” I whirled around to meet the voice, dodging a big mouth full of teeth in the process.
,,Oh, hi Tharsten. Say, you didn’t tell me about the damn party. What’s the meaning of this?” I shot at the burly Nord while I poked out the eye of the werewolf with a thumb. The critter shrieked like the one I killed a moment earlier, giving me the chance to slit its throat. They were big, but not as tough as they looked.

,,It means the Hunter is about to return! You aren’t supposed to be here! Flee, now!” Tharsten shouted before he was interrupted by a werewolf that bit down on his arm.
,,Agh! Fiend! I’ll show you the power of a Skaal!” He grunted. His arm rose up into the air and swung down. The mace he wielded cracked open the beasts skull like a nut under a hammer.
,,Tharsten, you ok?!” I shouted and completely forgot the battle that raged around me. Sure, the Chieftain could be annoying at times but he was still my father. Still, forgetting about the two dozen bloodthirsty beasts around me was a bad thing to do. What was most emberassing was that the hit came from the front. I never saw it coming. I only felt the intense, burning pain that spread all across my body.
,,Roland!”

Oh no! Ro-El! Please, please be safe, I don't want this fic to end yet!

I must also comment on how brilliant these lines are:



That sums up Ro-El's identity so well, I love it! Continue the good work buddy!

I just stumbled on to this thread today. Just read the entire thing in one sitting. Cool! I'd like some of these Dwemer gadgets and a self-repairing factory.

My only question is the apparent use of the word "death" here and there where context seems to imply the word "dead".

One such example:


Or is this a bizarre auto-censor thing?

Or maybe it is an "in" joke that I don't know about

I have a feeling it has to deal with the fact that Jack lives in a country where English isn't the first language. Am I correct?

I think that this story, besides from being an excellent and enjoyable reading, also is very well written! And considering Jackie is not native english makes it an aven bigger achievment! Tell me! I know all about that! (being a non-native)

Oh, I didn't think of that. Well now I feel kinda like a spotted owl.

I don´t think Jackie will mind though...he´s really a nice guy...

Nah, I don't mind. It's constructive critiscism. So if I ever slip up like that, feel free to warn me.


Moons dripping with blood. Howls in the distance, eerie enough to make the blood freeze. A burning forest. And standing right in front of my eyes, a giant of a man, masked with the skull of a deer. In his hand, he held a spear. At his feet, a giant wolf sat, with an immense amount of drool dripping from its mouth. The man pointed at the wolf with a finger, then aimed the finger at me.
,,This is you.” He said with a deep voice.

The scene shifted. A cold cliff, suspended high above the ground with only a small ledge to stand on. The man was gone, together with the burning forest. Yet the moons still cried their tears of blood. A loud howl echoed all around me. I spun around to face the wolf. The creature growled at me and displayed its sharp array of claws and teeth.
,,Join me. Accept me.”

The mental voice caught me off guard. I swayed back and forth in the heavy winds as I tried to find a balance between stability and a defensive stance.
,,What are you?” I shouted at it over the screaming wind.
,,I am you. The blood that resides within you. I am the essence of your deepest desires. You’ve always wanted to be big and strong, just like Tharsten Heart-Fang. I can make your wish come true!” The wolf answered.

Me, a giant, drinking warrior? I had to admit that the idea appealed to me. To the old me. This was indeed my deepest desire while growing up among the Skaal. Not anymore though. In the new world I lived in, brute strength was not the perfect ideal. I was happy with myself the way I was.
,,Shut up. You’re a werewolf, not some sort of projection of my soul. Just jump of the cliff and leave me alone.” I shouted back in an act of defiance. Bad move.
,,Fool! The price of rejection is death!” It leaped forward, impossibly fast. I tried to dodge it with the standard backflip, which was another mistake. My jump managed to take me away from the claws and the teeth, but also away from solid ground. I knew I was going to die.

The wolf had followed me. Now this was interesting. Either I would die by turning into flat goo on the ground, or I would die by being torn to pieces in midair. Now all I needed to complete the situation were a few spellhappy mages and bowhappy archers. Preferably Altmer and Bosmer, in that order. I resigned to my fate and let the wolf strike out with its paws.

The scene shifted again. I was still hurtling down through the sky, but something was different. No, it wasn’t me who was falling but someone else. But who? He or she managed to make a perfect landing, causing grass to bent and the ground to explode into a cloud of dust. No wait, it wasn’t grass. When the person looked down, I could see the burning forest again. What I’d believed to be grass were the charred hulks of the trees and the feet were a pair of Dwemer boots that dwarfed the trees they’d flattened. Who or better yet, what was I inhabiting?

The wolf landed on another small ledge, conveniently located at eyelevel.
,,What are you?” It snarled, thereby voicing the question I’d thought. The voice that answered was without emotion, or warmth. It was as soulless as a Dwemer Centurion. That was what it was, a Centurion.
,,I am Pelinal, the shield of Resdayn. Kagrenac’s greatest achievement.” Its fist struck out, smashing the ledge, the wolf and most of the cliff to pieces.

Pain, burning pain that knocked the breath out of me. The latest scene was the least pleasant in a way.
,,Ah, he’s back.” I forced my eyes to open upon hearing those words. Even now that they were open, I couldn’t see anything.
,,It is good to see that you’re still alive, Chieftain.” The voice said again.
,,What, Chieftain?” I croaked and promptly returned to my dreams.

I kept drifting in and out of unconsciousness for the next few days. Slowly though, I began to recover my strength till after a month or two, I was finally capable of holding a conversation without passing out every five minutes.
,,Ok, now what is that about the Chieftain?” I asked the Shaman one day when he was nursing my wounds again. He looked up from his work, then looked down and continued grinding roots into powder.
,,We lost many good men that night. Ulfred the Mighty. Egbert Stonecrusher. The list goes on. We even had the misfortune of losing our Chieftain, Tharsten Heart-Fang. And that wasn’t the end of it. Most of the surviving warriors were wounded one way or another. Three nights later, they became wolves.” He explained.

,,In the following battle, we lost more men and women. Those that took part and survived were all wounded as well. This time though, we’d learned of our mistake. They protected the village by claiming their own lives before they too would become wolves. Now the elderly and the children are all that remain. Only we, and a single survivor of the first battle. A survivor who has somehow escaped the curse of the hunter.” He added. If I felt like it, I would have let out a really long sigh.
,,Me. I guess I’ve got a powerful friend or something.”

,,Yes, you. The god that protected you from the curse has my thanks though I wish he’d protected more of our warriors. As the son of our former Chieftain and the last remaining Skaal warrior, we’ve named you as our Chieftain. Roland Wolf-Tail, we face hard times. You are the last defender of our people so I’m doing all I can to heal your wounds. Now stop talking, you’re slowing down the healingprocess.”

Well that's a unique turn of events. Ro-El is now chiefton. I wonder how he'll handle that responsibility, since he hasn't truly kept up with Skaal tradition for quite some time now. I guess we'll see.

I really liked the description of his vision, nice imagery.

Well, there is this one thing that happens in such a case. Read on.




Chieftain of the Skaal. In other words, the safety of the village was my responsibility. Mine, and that of the warriors. But seeing as how I was the only warrior left, it pretty much meant I was on my own.
,,Crap this. Vvardenfell and Solstheim? How am I supposed to protect both?”

While I had my doubts regarding my suitability as Chieftain, I could not sit and watch the events unfold like a simple spectator. The next morning, I started an argument with the shaman, some cranky old fellow going by the name of Khorne Ice-Peak.
,,You are not healed yet! You must rest, Chieftain!” He pleaded.
,,Forget about resting. I’ve got a job to do and no one is going to stop me. What would you rather have, a Chieftain who collapses while making sure the village remains safe, or a village that is destroyed because the Chieftain took a nap?” I shot back, boring my eyes into his. After a lengthy staring contest, he gave up and allowed me to do whatever I wanted, as long as I wouldn’t die on him.

I tried to roll out of my bed. Emphasis on tried, because I was stiff all over like you wouldn’t believe. That’s the price you pay from fighting werewolves and getting beaten. The moment I got a good, straight piece of firewood to use as a cane, I managed a whole lot better. At least I managed to hobble around like a man ten times my age. I had set my mind on wandering around the village in search of ideas. Before I went outside though, I decided to satisfy my curiosity with what was likely the only mirror in the village.

My reflection made me realize how close I'd come to dying. Escaping the werewolf curse was a feat worthy of songs by itself, but escaping death caused by physical injury was quite a feat as well. Four pale white lines stretched from my left shoulder to my right hip. It was a miracle that those claws had bounced off my ribs instead of simply crushing the bony obstacles. I probably wouldn’t be able to move fluidly for a long time.

I turned away from the mirror and got properly dressed. In our history, we’ve had many bare-chested heroes but I preferred some warm wool on my skin, thank you very much. I hobbled out of the building with my improvised cane and was instantly assaulted by the curse know as fame.
,,It’s Roland Wolf-Tail!”
,,Chieftain!”
,,The Wolfslayer!”
,,The wielder of Silverthorn!”
,,No, it’s called Eyesplitter!”

I threw up my hands, promptly returning both hands to my cane before I lost balance.
,,Calm down! I’m not fit enough for all that hugging!” I shouted over the collective voices of the Skaal. I also sneaked a glance down at my rapier, which I’d tied to my belt out of pure habit.
,,Silverthorn? That’s not such a bad name. Better than Eyesplitter, that’s just gross.”
My own arguments were powerless, but Khorne the shaman came to my rescue.
,,Scram! Can’t you see that the Chieftain is still wounded? Fifty lashings for the one who is still in my sight after I’ve counted to ten! One….two…..Ten!”

Everyone had bolted away as sudden as they’d come. As I said before, Khorne was a cranky old man. I nodded a thanks towards the shaman who frowned and returned to his hut. I shrugged at that and began my inspection of the village, slowly forming the beginning of a plan. The Skaal village was in the open, too much in my opinion. Sure, there had never been a need to expect an attack but times changed. I had some ideas, now I just needed to bring them into play. I looked around for the kids I knew would be stalking me. I mean, that’s what all kids do when a local ‘hero’ is in town.
,,You, you and you. Tell everyone that I want a meeting in the Greathall in half an hour.” I told them and watched them go. Being in charge had its perks.

The kids did not disappoint. They were quick runners, and not as drunk as their parents, who were mostly dead by now.
,,Alright everyone, listen up!” I shouted over the chorus of voices, both young and old.
,,Here’s the plan. There is a hill just north of the village. I want the huts to be disassembled and rebuilt on top of that hill in a circle, spread out but close enough so that they all fit on the hill. We’ll abandon the Greathall. Next, I want the strongest of you lads to go out and chop down trees. We’re going to build a wooden wall around the village, with a sturdy gate. There will be a raised walkway on the inner side of the wall for people to stand on.” I began to explain, inwardly counting down the time till the first questions.
,,Five…four…three…two…one.”

,,Why do we need to move? What use is a wall?” One old woman yelled through my explanation.
,,It’s called ‘siege warfare’. Given proper construction, a fortified location cannot be taken without siege weapons, which I seriously doubt anyone has around here. Magicka can also take down fortifications but again, there are no mages here with a mastery of Destruction. Through the wall, we’ll be able to keep the werewolves out, at least long enough to give us a chance to pick them off with the bows I want to have made. The Bosmer kept their last war from turning into a total failure by fighting defensively. It took weeks or even months for the Khajiit to take down any fortified installation and they only succeeded by starving the defenders. Now the funny thing here is, any wolf we kill is more meat for us to eat. So they can all crush themselves against those walls we’ll build for all I care.” I replied.
,,Are there any more questions? No, then I’ll continue. Now as I said, there will be bows. Next is the inclusion of a watch. All four winddirections will be watched at all times. I suggest working in eight man shifts of two hours. Also, there will be strict rationing and no alcohol.”

,,No alcohol?! What’s that good for?!” One of the kids bawled. I leaned in closer to look at the little boy. Gods, he wasn’t even six years old!
,,For one thing, you’re too young for that stuff in the first place. Also, alcohol lowers a man’s reflexes, coordination, ability to think and other things. It helps a Berserker charge, that’s true. But frankly, Berserking is an offensive technique and offense is not going to help. Consider yourself drafted into the archery corpse.” I said, bringing my full skill at intimidation into play. It wasn’t much, I admit but it works when the victim is about a third of your age, and half the size.

,,That goes for everyone! Everyone will return to or learn how to fight. We’ll have a slight lack of iron, so the arrows will be tipped with stone or ice, preferably stone. Weapons that are too heavy to wield by anyone will be melted down and turned into rapiers. Given proper training, a child with a rapier can take on ten hulking warriors with Claymores and win. You’ll also learn hand-to-hand. Real hand-to-hand, no drunken brawling. We are facing a hard battle and I don’t intend to lose. Anyone who is caught slacking will be sent to Khorne. I’m sure he knows what to do.” I shouted over the murmurs of discontent.
,,Aye, I assure you that I have a few tricks in mind for any lazy rat.” Khorne answered with a smirk.

Looks like Ro-El is getting down to business. It's about time someone cleaned up and organized the Skaal, especially with the threat of werewolves against them. Hopefully there won't be any mutiny, that would just plain be annoying to someone as busy as Ro-El.

Keep it up, jack!

Ah Jackie! You post-machine! I´ll never fully catch up with your updates! But I enjoy them immensely everytime I read´em

Very good writing.....very good indeed

A short one and the beginning of chapter 4. (I seriously feel like I've lost count though.)




Chapter 4: Bloodmoon.

Five blocks of ice had been put in a line at what was the center of the new village. Each block was about the size of a man’s head. I walked from one end of the line to the other, tapping the snow with my cane at each step. My wounds had healed for the most part and the cane was no longer necessary but I’d taken a liking to it. The cane I currently used was basically the same piece of firewood grinded down into a smooth shaft with a thicker handle at one end.

,,Alright, ice. We all know what it is so I won’t bore you with that.” I spoke, tapping the closest block of ice with my cane. The four Skaal children who stood before me looked on with interest. Two of them looked a bit tired and the other two were nearly jumping with energy. That was because I’d forced the Skaal into a strict work pattern. One third building or keeping watch, one third training and one third resting. So the tired ones had been building the wall for the last four hours and the other two had been resting.

,,Now, inside this ice there is a small stone. I want you to get it out of the ice. Any volunteers?” I continued and grinned when the largest kid, Stark Wood-Fist, took the warhammer off his back and walked up to the block of ice with it. It was obvious to him that the only way to retrieve the pebble would be by breaking the ice. I put my cane on his chest to stop him.
,,Barehanded.” I told him. Stark looked at me in a confused way, dropped the warhammer and then raised his hand above the block of ice like he would’ve raised his hammer. His hand swung down and hit the ice with a loud thud. Only a small dent and a tiny crack was his result.

I shook my head and shoved him away.
,,No no, you’re doing it all wrong. Anyone else?” I looked at the group. None of them seemed interested in taking the challenge. Why should they? Stark was the strongest and biggest among them, matching my height despite being four years younger. He was also twice my weight, all muscle. And he had an ego to match.
,,Why don’t you try it yourself, cripple?” He spat, clutching his hand. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d broken his fingers with that stupid bashing of his. Now who was the cripple here?

I levelled my eyes on him.
,,Cripple? I know a few cripples who could take you down without breaking a sweat.” I snickered. I then spun around and thrust two fingers at the ice. From the point of impact, a crack formed horizontally and grew, eventually traversing the entire block, neatly cutting it in half. I picked up the upper half and put it down next to my feet. Pebble in hand, I turned back to him.
,,I’m one of them. Now pick a new block and start practicing. You’ll be doing this for four hours each day till you succeed, got it? And no sneaky tricks with a warhammer at night.” I was interrupted by one of the lookouts who stood on the partially finished walkway.
,,Chieftain!”

I ascended the ladder to his position. Once up there, I did not need to ask what it was he’d seen. There were two things even a blind person would notice. First was the roaring pillar of fire rising up out of Lake Fjalding. This was something I’d never seen before. More important for me though, was the black cloud that had crawled over a nearby hill. Dagoth Ur’s forces had begun to move again.

,,I have no idea what it is, Chieftain.” The watch said. I shrugged and began to descent the ladder.
,,I’m going to check it out.” I told as I lowered myself onto the carpet of snow.
,,Don’t you need an escort?” The watch shouted after me. I waved him off and went through the gates. With my body back at near peak performance, my rapier at my side and a warm wolfskin around me, I wasn’t worried about my own safety. Dagoth Ur had no interest in a bunch of Nords. His interest was in me. So if that storm had decided that the time was right to finish me off, I’d rather not involve them. Besides, this was a perfect opportunity to investigate lake Fjalding. Trying to find a way into the layers of ancient Stalhrim was sacrilege under normal conditions, but who could blame me if I went to check out a possible threat towards the Skaal? As Chieftain, this was my task.

Wow, being a monk certainly has its advantages. Breaking blocks of ice with two fingers is one of em.

I have to wonder though... with all this time Ro-El has been spending up with the Skaal, I wonder how happy Zarador is. He's been stuck at that Imperial fort for quite awile now. I bet he has all the Imperials dreading their existance.

Keep it up cloudy!

Ooooo, I have no idea what is going to happen next. Maybe our hero needs to call for some Dwemer backup?

Yeah, Zarador has been left to his own devises for quite a while now. Don't worry, I've got something planned for him. But I'm not telling!

And I love how Ro-El turned from number one wimp into number one supermonk. Who needs Corprus strenght? It's all about skill.




The ashstorm had picked up speed and even though I jogged all the way to Lake Fjalding, it was merely an arrowshot away by the time I set my first foot on the slippery Stalhrim. Frozen waves, cracked under its own weight with jagged bits sticking out everywhere, Lake Fjalding looked nothing like the lake back in Vvardenfell. I had to find a way in somehow. There had to be a hole in the ice somewhere. I would have to be careful though. One slip and I would find out just how sharp those jagged bits really were. I slided across the surface slowly, approaching the fires that still rose up out of the lake. If there was an opening, it had to be close.

The ashstorm cut off al possible escape routes before drawing in closer. They only left a path towards the fire open which wouldn’t help me. There was no way for me to avoid whatever might happen. My only option was to fight my way through somehow. I stopped my careful sliding across the slippery surface and waited for its next move. My cane fell on the ice and my rapier left its sheath with a reassuring ‘shiiiiish’. Before me, the black clouds parted, opening a seductive path out of the cage I’d been put in. Was Dagoth Ur giving me a chance to simply walk away? Why would he, after all the effort he’d put into killing me? It didn’t make sense. I stayed put.

,,Wise choice, returned one.” A man with a horribly stretched face and incredibly long fingernails spoke as he stepped out of the clouds. Another of Dagoth Ur’s minions. I wondered just what caused the Chimer to change like that. Obviously he’d succumbed to the heart but last time I saw him, he was actively trying to stop Kagrenac and destroy the heart.
,,Cut the chatter. Just tell me what you’re up to.” I replied as calmly as I could. I could feel my hands turning slippery with the growth of my fear. A few deep breaths and inner resolve was all I could do to turn the tide and remain calm.
,,Isn’t this obvious? We’re here to stop you. You are a pawn in the game played by the gods. Azura has prepared your path. She knew you would come to this place in search of Pelinal’s key. And so, she hid the key here, one of three. We are here to prevent you from reaching that key. Look around you, Dumac. There is no escape.”

I gripped Ephraim’s rapier with both hands.
,,If there’s no path, I’ll simply have to create one. Legion rule: An army without a leader is no army, only a mob.” I put all of my strength into my leap, clearing twelve metres in a single bound. The creature reacted unnaturally fast. Ice leaped from its hands. The blast hit me in midair and I absorbed it easily, thanks to both my Nordic heritage and my Atronach like talent. Upon landing, I continued to slide forward over the ice. The thing tried again when I got close, this time actually trying to physically strike me.

I dodged its blow and thrust my rapier through its heart. To my horror, the damn monster only laughed at me.
,,Is that all you have? I no longer have a heart, I no longer have a mortal weakness you can exploit. The glory of Lord Dagoth is mine, and I’m his hand of justice.” It gloated.
,,Heart or no heart, let’s see how well you deal with explosion!” I struck again, with an open palm. The creature was like, most of the Sixth House’s minions, composed off ash. My hand smashed through its face like a ballista through a pile of sand.

,,Fool! I told you I have no mortal weakness! You cannot kill me! I am immortal! An Ashvampire cannot be slain!” I backed away from it. The vampire as it called himself simply regenerated a new head to replace the one it lost. I had to find a way to defeat it somehow. Preferably before it got bored and loosed the whole storm on me.
,,The storm, that’s the key! Everytime I hit it, the storm rebuilds it. I need to keep it from rebuilding somehow.”

There was only one idea I could come up with. If I’d put the clues together correctly, there was a way to defeat that Ashvampire thing. There was only one drawback to my plan. I had to enter Lake Fjalding first. And the way things were, there was only one entrance left for me to take. I destroyed a leg and ran while it was busy regenerating. The pillar of fire rose up before me, its heat making me sweat like a mountainstream.

,,Whenever I get hit by a spell, I absorb it and keep it stored for later use. This had better work.” I stretched my hand in front of me and focussed on the power within me. I thought of cold, freezing cold that would turn the air to snow and water to ice. The coldest cold possible. With each step, I could feel the warmth around me diminish as the air condensed around me in a thick, frozen barrier. The Ashvampire should have known better than use frost on me. I leaped into the flames.

I sure hope Ro-El know what he's doing. Ashvampires are fun to fight. In actuality they're quite lethal; I'm glad you agree with me on this.

I wonder what lies underneath the depths of the lake that could potentionally defeat this immortal creature...

Yeah, they are lethal in the game though the way I portray them in this story, they have a serious weakness. yes, despite the ashstorm whirling around. It's like the Death Star's exhaust port, Sauron's ring, Spaceball one's self-destruct button.

And I promised ghosts, didn't I? Man, this is the largest collection of Dwemeric in one update. Why am I even underlining it?





It was a long drop, something which my legs complained about when I finally landed. My shield had collapsed under the intense heat a bit too soon so I rolled over the steel floor to put out the fires. Once my situation wasn’t so ‘hot’ anymore, I went to assessing my situation.
,,One, I’m suffering second-degree burnwounds which hurt a lot. Two, my clothes are wrecked and I’m pretty much naked. Three, I’m inside a Dwemer facility, probably the research facility I’ve been looking for. Four, the fire sprouts from a cracked pipe so as long as I don’t turn off the oil-feed, I won’t have to worry about the ashies coming in.”

,,It was about time someone dropped in. I kept the heater running, but I’m sure you already noticed.” A dusty voice chuckled.
,,And five, there’s a ghost with a sense of humour here.” I thought to myself and looked at the incorporeal Dwemer.
,,Mind if I change clothes?” I asked with my own sense of humour. The ghost shrugged.
,,Please, be my guest. Also, you can find some healing balm in the medical cabinet to your right. You wouldn’t be the first one who gets burned by a cracked oilpipe.”

I went for the medical cabinet first. Dignity is fine and all, but I’d rather be undignified and healthy than dignified and hurting. The balm he’d suggested was a colourless goo which felt chilling to the touch. In essence though, it was no different than your average healing potion. By accelerating and enhancing the natural healing of the body, any wound would heal within a fraction of the time required normally, even if the wound was lethal.

One of the more controversial side-effects was that rapid aging was also involved. Plenty of soldiers or gladiators had turned into grey-haired, wrinkled old men and women in their early thirties due to too much healing. Too keep up with the physically younger ones, they had to swallow potions of a different kind which in the end only worsened their problem. One of the arguments for an old word of wisdom among warriors.
He who makes the enemy bleed is good. He who keeps the enemy from making him bleed is even better.

Anyway, I was still quite young, actually barely an adult, so the aging effect wouldn’t bother me too much. I might grow a bit of a beard but not much more than that. My skin itched as if a whole swarm of fleas crawled all over me. As the itching faded, I felt new strength come to me. Not just to my skin, but to my entire body. Health had been achieved, now the dignity. I opened my enchanted pouch which had been one of the few fireproof bits of apparel on me. From its depths I procured the Stalhrim armour.
,,Nice bag.” The ghost commented.

The first thing I noticed upon putting it on was how comfortable it was. I already knew that it was a perfect fit, but I had no idea it would feel like a second skin. A light, harder-than-steel skin. Definitely fireproof as well, as Stalhrim could not be melted by any flame. And trust me, there have been plenty of attempts at melting Stalhrim. They all failed. The only reason why the fire managed to create a hole in the lake was due to simple overwhelming pressure. The pipe must have cracked years before I was even born, or reborn, whatever. Over the years, the pressure had been building and building till finally, the whole thing popped.

Which brought a new problem to my attention.
,,Is there anything left beyond that heavily fortified cabinet?” I asked the ghost. He looked at me in silence and then floated to a dark corridor.
,,Not much. There is the frozen corridor in the left wing but everything else has been blown to bits. Everything not locked inside a chest, keg or whatever. The food is spoiled though and everything else is a pile of rust. I’m really sorry about the food, cause unlike me, you’re probably not on an all-exclusive diet. Anything else?” It said with another chuckle. I never knew ghosts could laugh at their own fate. It was rather comforting though. Most adventurers I knew off only got to know the aggressive side of ghosts.

I walked towards the corridor and waved my hand. The corridor definitely felt cooler than the room I was in. The frozen corridor that had been mentioned had to be in that direction. A frozen corridor, another clue that fit with my theory.
,,Are there some explosives around? I want to crack that ice and see what's behind it.” I explained, leaning against the wall.
,,No, but there is a drill Centurion in the vault. Aren’t you tired of hard rock? Can’t lift that pick? Want the gold but not the sweat? Then Nebrighk company’s Drill Centurion MK IV may be something for you! Made from high-quality steel, this baby is designed to drill your tunnels while you sit back and get the cash. Gold, Silver, Glass, Ebony, nothing’s too hard for the Drill Centurion MK IV. Buy one today and get this plushy Netch toy and one can of oil for free! And between you and me, scientific testing has revealed that it’s also a good way to pick up women with.” A ghost with humour indeed.

Half an hour later, I had set up the Drill Centurion. While the ghost’s advertising had lied about the plushy Netch toy, it had been spot on when it boasted about the drill’s quality. Watching an oversized Kwama forager roll forward on a dozen wheels and slowly drill its way through the ice was quite interesting to watch.
,,So, what are you doing here anyway?” I asked my host while we waited.

,,Well, I’m just hanging around you know. But to tell you the truth, I’d hoped to do something else. I’m Nebrighk the second, and the inventor of that wonderful drill. Know what? You can keep it! It’s not that I have any use for money anyway. I can’t give you the plushy Netch though, the mice got to it first. How did those beasts get in here anyway?” It begun, its laugh fading.
,,Gotta stay on topic. I was quite the ambitious lad, so I jumped at the chance to aid the great Kagrenac in a Centurion test! He’d sent me a package with new brains for the Centurions. All I had to do was to put them in the sphere’s and activate them. Only those things went on a rampage and killed everyone except me. I must’ve done something wrong there.”

So that was the secret behind the Dwemer’s utter defeat. Kagrenac telling naïve young Dwemer to help him in his research, in effect telling them to destroy their own kind. It was simple, yet it had been horribly effective. I wished Kagrenac was still alive. Then I could give him a proper punishment for his crimes.
,,You didn’t do anything wrong. Kagrenac was a lying monster who wiped out everyone.” I spoke with seething anger.
,,And how do you know, kid? You’re just a Nord. Kagrenac is the greatest master of our people. His works are amazing! Say, we’ve been talking Dwemer all the time. Where did you pick that up?”

,,I’m a reincarnated Dwemer. One of his victims.” I explained and waited for the Dwemer to continue.
,,A Dwemer reincarnating as a Nord? Ah, why not? Ok, then Kagrenac played me for a fool. Argh! I’ll tell you the rest of my story if you do me a favour. Wipe that bug out if you run into him. Of course you will, I can see it in your eyes. Good, now I couldn’t leave this place because it’s so damn cold outside and no airships would come. A week after the slaughter though, a Dwemer lass came in. Oh boy, skin like marble, eyes like sapphires. Just thinking of her makes me feel better. She carried a very odd sword with her. For one thing, it looked like a mix between Dwemer work and that Nord Ice stuff you’re wearing right now. For the other thing, it was cold! I swear, the temperature dropped to near zero the moment she brought that thing in. She put it there and when she left, she turned me in a ghost somehow. To atone, she said.”

Dwemer steel, Stalhrim and a potent frost enchantment. Only one blade matched that description. Forgeheart, one of Pelinal’s keys. After a few hours, the Drill had finished its work and stopped. Forgeheart stuck out of the ice, looking brand-new despite the long years it had spent in there. I gripped the hilt with a mixture of new experience and old remembrance. Its power filled the room, coursing through my body, reflecting off the walls.
,,Forgeheart, the ice-key. Nebrighk, I give you my word that I’ll right the wrong you’ve suffered. I swear it on this blade, which was once wielded by Dumac himself.” I spoke solemnly and swung it around. Its balance was nothing short of perfect and despite its massive appearance, it was as light as my rapier. The ghost smiled and nodded, gesturing at its heart. I knew what it had asked without words.
,,As you wish.” I whispered and plunged Forgeheart into his spiritual body.
,,Thank you. I can feel the cold. Finally, I can say leave this world. Farewell, friend.”

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Apr 14 2007, 09:49 PM

Oooo Forgeheart sounds badass. I really like the fact that Ro-El gave mercy to that ghost, very much like the Dwemer he should be.

Now time to wipe out some baddies!