Thank you all for the comments!


This chapter has an off-hand mention of something that may be a spoiler for Tribunal. Sorry. I expect no one cares any more but I mention it here anyway.

--
Chapter 5. Explorations



The sun was nearing the horizon: it was time to see about dinner and a place to sleep. It would be easy to stay here at the fort, but I just did not want to. I needed to be away from people again: I needed to be out in the Solstheim wilderness.

It began to snow as I traveled. It rapidly became a blizzard, with visibility not more than thirty feet. I was walking east now, into an area I had not explored yet. I crossed water twice before I was attacked, this time by another one of those Fryse Hags.

This was beginning to annoy me; not so much their murderous intentions, but the question as to their motivation. I supposed the Hags could simply be like bandits, killing for the thrill as well as the loot, or like rogue Ashlanders, who still try to kill outlanders to this day, but I did not know. This is what bothered me: the not knowing. I don't like a mystery.

She summoned a greater bone-walker and hurled a frost spell at me.

I hurriedly chopped through the bone-walker, before its spells could reduce my strength to zero. My Atronach birth sign absorbed the frost spell and partially replenished my magicka.

"This is getting old," I shouted as I grabbed her wrist and twisted.

She screamed in pain and dropped the dagger. I kicked: it sailed off into the swirling snowflakes and disappeared.

She tried to attack me bare handed.

"So", I said a few seconds later as I sat on her still-struggling form, "what's it all about? Why are you all attacking me? Are you really a Fryse Hag?"

She cursed and continued to struggle. She was bigger than me, but I had a weight advantage from my armor and weapons, and I had a strength advantage as well. I watched the snow for a time. It seemed to be tapering off. This would be a quick blizzard that would leave little accumulation on the ground.

Eventually she subsided, either through a sensible realization of her situation or just from being tired out. I looked down at her and asked: "So, who are you?"

She was silent. I waited.

After a time she finally broke her silence and said: "Aren't you cold?"

"Nope. Maybe after dark I'll be, but not now. So, now: are you a Fryse Hag?"

"Yes."

"Now we are getting somewhere. Why did you attack me?"

"You are not of our order, not a Fryse Hag. You are not even a Nord."

"I see. So anyone not a Hag must die. Recruiting must be difficult, eh?"

She glowered.

"Go on, kill me." she demanded. "All life ends in death: it does not matter."

I'd heard this kind of fatalism from Nords before. Nords have this strange death wish thing going on in their religion and folklore. To many Nords, the greatest desire is to die in battle.

Almost every religion has a prophecy that one day Good and Evil, or Law and Chaos, will have a final battle ... but the Nords believe that Evil will triumph and that the world will be destroyed. This gives them a strange outlook at times.

"Wouldn't you like to live?" I asked.

She remained silent.

"Do you have children? Are they waiting for you? Do they know that their mother runs around killing people randomly for fun?"

She remained silent.

"I should kill you. It's clear that even if I let you go, you'll only attack me again the next time we meet."

Her only reply was a sullen silence. While she had tried to slay me, I just could not bring myself to kill her in her current defenseless state.

"What kind of life are you living? Don't you get tired of it?"

Again, silence.

"I wish we could work something out. I wish you would talk. Do you have a leader?"

Predictably, silence.

Enough. I cast Divine Intervention and was returned to the fort.

Severia Gratius jumped in surprise as I appeared within a foot of her.

"Oh hello Rashelle, you gave me a start."

"Sorry, I just cast an Intervention," I said as I stood up.

"Yes, Joleen only set up that Divine Mark a week ago. I am still getting used to it."

"Just a week ago? is this a new fort?"

"Relatively. We've been here just over a year but some things, such as the Divine Intervention mark, are still being added, piecemeal, now."

She smiled and then continued, "You've arrived just in time for dinner. Come to the mess hall with me: trooper Secundus caught some fresh crimson flounder and we have booze again."

I had previously wanted to be by myself, but that conversation with the Hag had left me cold ... an unpleasant sort of cold that made me want some human company. I nodded, but I had a concern.

"As a civilian, is there a problem with me eating your food?"

"Pshaw. It's not like we're swamped with beggars. It comes out of your taxes so you really paid for it. Besides, I'm an officer: there won't be a problem."

Upon entering the mess hall, I saw Procis Catraso. He waved to me from across the room. I waved back. After obtaining some food and beverages, Severia and I joined him. Normally officers and enlisted men do not mingle, but either because this was a frontier fort, or because I was a civilian, or perhaps because of the sudden jump in fort morale, Severia did not object to eating with Procis.

"Changed your mind, eh?" he said.

I related the story of my strange encounter with the Fryse Hag as we ate. The flounder was not bad.

"Those Hags are a strange lot: I've run into a few."

"I wish I knew what they were all about. It bothers me, not knowing. There has got to be more to them than just running around and randomly killing anyone they meet. It doesn't make sense."

"What about the berserkers? That's what they do."

"Well, they have a reason, they are driven mad by the cold and mead."

"That's not much of a reason."

I frowned and said, "I guess not."

The conversation changed to more pleasant topics. The happy mood on the part of the soldiers, now that they had their alcohol back, cheered me considerably. Dinner had an atmosphere more of a party than a simple meal. It was all rather un-Imperial, in a good way. I had a much better time than I had expected to.

At some point in the festivities, Procis apologetically said that he had watch duty and took his leave.

"Maybe we should go as well."

Quite tipsy, Severia and I walked outside into the clean cool night air. The sound of drunken singing continued behind us.

"Rashelle, you need a place to sleep?"

I belched and said, "Err, hadn't thought about that yet. I'll go crash in a storeroom or something." I laughed and said, "can't sleep in the barracks with the men, now, eh?"

"I have my own quarters. You can sleep there. It's a small room, but comfortable."

"Thank you."

"It's my pleasure; come with me."



I woke later than my usual time. Severia was gone: she had managed to depart without waking me.

I rubbed my eyes and then buckled on my cuirass. My greaves were in a corner, by my pack. I put them on. I'm not sure how one of my boots ended up on top of her closet. I fetched it down, found the other one, and put them on. Chrysamere was on the floor, unsheathed and placed within reach. After donning the now-sheathed claymore, I put on my pack.

On the table was a plate with scrambled kwama eggs and some kind of meat that I later found out was frost boar. A note on the table indicated that duties had called Severia elsewhere and that she had ordered the breakfast brought up here for me. The food, though cooled a bit, was rather tasty. This was definitely not your usual Imperial Legion hospitality.

I wrote her a note, thanking her, and then I left.

I was still bothered by yesterday's brief conversation with that Fryse Hag. I wanted to obtain more information and I had no pressing matters to attend to. I wandered the fort until I found an area that appeared to be traveled infrequently. I then cast a Mark spell. Now, whenever I cast a Recall spell, I would be teleported to this spot from wherever I happened to be.

From my pack I then extracted the Mazed Band, an artifact that I had acquired in Mournhold. Its enchantment allowed me to teleport to Vivec, Mournhold, or Sotha Sil. Actually, this last destination no longer worked. My theory was that either Sotha Sil had flooded all the way or the dome in the final room had collapsed: the enchantment "knew" that I could not go there anymore. I invoked the band and was teleported to Vivec, just outside of the High Fane.

After the events that led to my becoming the Nerevarine, I had been given unrestricted access to all of the books in the Temple library in Vivec. The blasphemous books, those dealing with any religion other than that of the Tribunal, were what I wanted to look through.

The information on the Nordic beliefs was slim, but I did learn that the goddess Kyne had been the wife of Shor. Shor was interesting in that he had rebelled against the other gods and had created the mortal plane. This sounded exactly like the tale of the aedroth Lorkhan. Like Lorkhan, Shor had been killed by the other gods as punishment for this act.

As I had already noticed, Fryse Hags are noted for their skill with frost-based magic. One book mentioned that they view "most people" as a threat to their beliefs. This would indicate that there were some people who they would not attack on site. This last did not include Breton spell-swords, at least in my own experience.

The phrase "kiss at the end" was associated with Kyne. The books were unclear on what it meant but I think it had something to do with the Nord battle death wish: to fight gloriously and to receive a kiss from some sort of female demigoddess or spirit as they died.

Kyne was associated with storms. Her "daughters" had somehow given Nords the Storm Voice ability, which was a powerful frost damage spell that all Nords can cast once a day. It was unclear who these daughters were. Were they human or something else? Were they the Fryse Hags?

I found a book that listed the equivalents across religions: often a particular deity in one faith's pantheon is nearly identical to another, save for being renamed. It turned out that in the Imperial Cult's pantheon, Kynareth is the equivalent of Kyne.

Kynareth, one of the Nine Divines worshiped by the Imperial Cult, is a goddess of the air and is the strongest of the Sky spirits. In some legends, she was the first to agree to Lorkhan's plan to create the mortal plane. She is also associated with rain. One goddess for storms, the other for rain and air: a close enough match.

This was interesting but seemed to be a digression from the topic of concern: the Fryse Hags.

I closed the last book. I smiled to the ordinator who had been reading over my shoulder. He was not allowed to read these books but under the pretense of guarding me he could sneak a peek.

"Not much here, sera," I said to him, "I'll have to search elsewhere."

"Perhaps, err, an Imperial chapel?" he said, obviously uncomfortable at discussing "blasphemous" things.

"Not a bad idea, sera. Thank you."

I imagine that, under his helm, he smiled.

"By your leave, I will teleport out."

He nodded.

I cast Divine Intervention and was teleported to Ebonheart, just outside of the Imperial Cult chapel.

There was not an actual library there but I was on good terms with the priests, even though I was not a member of the Cult. They were able to discuss Kynareth but confessed to knowing only as much about Kyne as I now did. Generally, Imperial Cultists are an open-minded lot and will tend to know a surprising amount about other religions ... but not this time. It was starting to look as if the dearth of information on Fryse Hags was not part of any suppression on the part of either the Cult or the Temple, but simply that no one knew much about them. A secretive group, these Hags.

I entered Jobasha's Rare books. Jobasha had a strange filing system: the books were in no perceptible order, yet he somehow knew the location of each and every one of them. Because of this, I had often stumbled onto an interesting book that I might not have otherwise. I had spent many pleasurable hours here.

He had read a great deal of his merchandise and was a wealth of surprising information.

"Good morning, Rashelle," said Jobasha.

"Good morning; any new stuff in since I've been here last?"

"Ahh, yes; Jobasha has. Come this way."

He led me around, back and forth a few times, selecting a book here and there.

As we passed by the ordinator, Jobasha said "Relax, Gadave; Rashelle is OK."

"Whew. Hello Rashelle," said the ordinator as he took off his helm.

He sat down and took up the book he had apparently been reading before I entered the shop. From behind a shelf he retrieved an opened bottle and took a sip.

Jobasha eventually give me a stack of five books that he thought would interest me, including the latest Agent adventure.

"He's read half of Jobasha's books, by the way," he said as he indicated the ordinator. "Jobasha likes him."

"Jobasha, what do you know about Nord religions?"

He launched into a short lecture that was packed with information, conveying all of the general info ... which I already knew.

"What about the Fryse Hags?"

His Khajiit brow furrowed. "Jobasha has not heard of them."

I was dumbfounded: it was rare for him to not know at least a little bit about something. I filled him in with what little I had learned. Jobasha wondered how they would recruit new Hags.

I thanked him, put aside the thought of Fryse Hags, and sat down to read. Solstheim has its wonderful cold and snow, but it has no book stores.

An hour or two later I bought two of the books he had recommended and exited the shop.

I cast Recall and was teleported back to Fort Frostmoth. Leaving the fort, I struck out again in an eastern direction. I crossed water twice, noticing that the area was green despite yesterday's snowfall. I passed what I thought was the spot where I had encountered that Fryse Hag. As I traveled, I encountered two spriggans, one berserker and a frost boar, but no Hags.

When I reached the east coast, I found a Dwemer ruin. It was a surprise. For some reason I had expected there not to be any in Solstheim. I suppose it made sense: there were Dwemer ruins all over the Empire, even as far south as Mournhold.

The door was in the eastern side of the ruin, facing the water.

I entered and was struck by the familiarity of the interior. It could have been any Dwemer ruin back in Vvardenfell. I guess I had expected the Solstheim ruins to have a different architectural style, as the Mournhold ruin had. The familiar sounds of distant Dwemer machinery carried though the air and brought a smile to my face.

Ahead, the corridor dipped down into a stairwell. I followed this until it leveled off and turned left. Stairs again: the corridor went deeper and I followed.

By now I had to be below the outside water level, yet it was dry in here. Once again I was amazed at the quality and durability of Dwemer construction.

I heard the click-clack of a centurion spider as the corridor turned left. Creeping stealthily, I rounded the corner and took out the spider with one stroke.

The corridor branched: straight ahead and to the right. I poked my head around the right branching. I saw a door on the left and the corridor bending away on the right. Since there were no obvious dangers there, I returned to the straight passage and continued to move along that.

A side corridor extended on the left, but it was a dead end. Ahead I could see that the corridor bent to the right. Around that bend glided a Dwarven spectre, the ghost of a Dwemer.

That time under Mournhold was the only time that a Dwemer ghost had not attacked, and also the only time that one had actually talked to me. The one now ahead of me started to hurl offensive spells without any hesitation.

I silently charged forward and sliced him. He fizzled away, leaving a small pile of ectoplasmic residue.

The corridor turned to the right, then to the left, then again to the right. While the sturdiness and endurance of Dwemer construction is readily apparent to all, the thinking behind some of their layouts is not. Anyone wandering through a Dwemer ruin for even a short time is struck by the realization that the Dwemer did not think at all like we do: their minds must have been unlike that of any other race.

Still, I was very curious about them. I would like to have seen what they had been like. What had these dark dim ruins looked like in their heyday, when they had life in them other than the movement of the remaining metal machinery?

A steam centurion clomped towards me, raising an arm tipped with a spiked pummeling ball. I dodged said ball and got a whack in with Chrysamere. The centurion shuddered under the impact. I got another swing in before the ball hit me. It impacted on my cuirass: there was no damage but it did make me take a step back.

I evaded another attack and thrust my sword into the chest panel. There was a burst of sparks from the panel and the centurion was motionless.

I quickly extracted my sword and jumped back a few paces as the now-inert centurion fell forward.

The sound had drawn more Dwemer robots. A sphere centurion was rolling at me from the corridor ahead. From a branching to my right clomped a steam centurion.

It did not take too long to dispatch them. I continued on.

To my left, a branching led down and to a set of heavy Dwemer doors. That probably led to a deeper area. I decided to skip that branching, for now.

It did not take me that long to explore the remainder of this area. The corridor ahead bent around and led to an area of two joined rooms. I fought the remaining Dwemer constructs there and, after casting a healing spell on myself, I searched for treasure.

The room contained an enigmatic whirling Dwemer machine, three desks, and some metal Dwemer containers that had rubies, diamonds, and scrap metal in them. While Dwemer scrap metal is at times useful, I took only the gem stones. The emeralds could be used to make Restore Health potions and the other stones I would trade.

Of interest was the book I found in a desk: It didn't belong. The binding and the parchment were not of Dwemer style or manufacture. This was a hand-written book, not made on a press. The writing inside was in ancient Nordic, not Dwemeri. The only thing remotely Dwemeric about it was its age: it appeared as if it might date back to Dwemeri times.

I tried to read it but of course I could not. I can read Tamrielic well, and I can read the Nordic alphabet enough to puzzle out the name of a barrow, but I don't know the words.

I began to place it in my pack, then I hesitated. The book was in good condition, but was obviously delicate. If I fell on my pack the wrong way, or had to swim, the book would be ruined. I could not bear to do that, so I put the book back in the desk. It had been here for centuries: it would not go away in the near future. I could perhaps come by later and then take it to a Nord savant.

It was now late in the afternoon. I could sit by a Dwemer light and read one of the books that I had purchased from Jobasha. Then I could have dinner and sleep in the ruin.

I thought about the rations I had in my pack. While they would sustain me, they were not the most exciting of culinary treats. I wanted something fresh.

I left the ruin and began to retrace my steps.

It was only a moment to locate the corpse of the frost boar that I had slain not too long ago. The ravens were already there. There were no ravens in Vvardenfell: presumably the cliff racers ate any that dared to trespass. Ravens are everywhere else in Tamriel so they were not foreign to me. It just had been so long since I had seen one. Once again I marveled at their coloration: their feathers were as black as my hair and eyes.

They flew away as I approached. I cut a suitable chunk from the boar and departed.

Back in the ruin, I spelled the doors to the surface and to the deeper area so that I would have not have any unexpected visitors without a warning. I made myself comfortable and read one of the books from Jobasha's. There was an amusing scene where a character was so afraid of the silt strider that, on his first trip, he rode the whole way with his eyes closed. I smiled at that.

After I finished the book, I built a fire; small enough to minimize smoke, as there was no chimney or smoke hole, yet large enough to cook the meat thoroughly. I discovered that frost boar meat is excellent. The flavor was familiar: it had been the meat in my breakfast that morning.

I read a little from the second book then decided it was time to sleep. I spread out my bear fur in a corner of the room, drew Chrysamere and then curled up on the fur. The soothing sounds of distant Dwemer machinery lulled me to sleep.

Another excellent and gargantuan update. I could really sense Rashelle's frustration over the whole Hag philosophy and the mysteriousness of their actions. Can't wait to read more of this.

Wow, cool! Lots of stuff, adventure and action! And also mystery!

Heh, I've actually never played Tribunal and Bloodmoon. But I don't mind, I was never able to finish Morrowind anyway.

I wonder if perhaps Rashelle's talk got to that Fryse Hag and she decided to go home.

Chapter 6. Smugglers



In the morning, I recalled to the fort. Carnias had no East Empire Company work for me so I then paid a visit to Captain Carius.

"Good morning Rashelle. Thanks once again for settling that supply problem. The morale of the troops has greatly improved."

I nodded.

"There is another matter that you could perhaps help me with."

I raised an eyebrow.

"As I said the other day; since you are civilian, the men will tell you things that they will not tell me. This has been useful to you already and I think it will be useful for this matter as well."

I waited silently for the actual details.

"Weapons are being smuggled from the fort. Presumably they are then being shipped off to Vvardenfell and sold there. I would like you to investigate this matter and then take whatever action is needed."

"You mean kill them," I said.

"Well, yes. This is a frontier fort so I can dispense with courts martial for certain crimes. You have my authorization to kill them."

"And if I choose not to kill them?"

"Rashelle; with a continued drain on our weapon supply, the fort could soon become helpless. The smuggling must stop ... and stay stopped."

"No. I've killed many smugglers but only because they were trying to kill me. I don't think it's such a crime that they need to be slain."

An angry look clouded his face. He opened his mouth, as if to order me ... then he froze. He must have remembered that I was a civilian and could simply tell him to get stuffed.

He closed his eyes. His hands clutched the side of his desk. He took in a breath, held it, released it. He opened his eyes.

I waited.

"Rashelle, I am sorry ... handle this however you see fit. All I want is for the smuggling of the weapons to stop. Could you please look into this for me?"

I nodded.

"Thank you."

He fumbled around his desk, picked up a quill and dipped it in an inkwell. He began to write on a sheet of paper.

"I'd like one of the troopers to assist you. Pick either Saenus Lusius or Gaea Artoria. They are both in the General Quarters below. Give this note to whoever you choose."

He finished the note and showed it to me. It read: "Assist Rashelle in the matter that she is working on. Accept her orders as my own. Try to avoid killing anyone."

It was signed "Captain Falx Carius".

I smiled and nodded.

He folded the paper, melted some wax over it and stamped the wax.

He passed me the sealed orders and thanked me again. I nodded and departed.

I was left with a bit of a problem. I had to choose one of two soldiers, and I could only give one of them the orders. I therefore had to assess both of them and make my decision ... before I could actually ask one to accompany me. Neither name was familiar to me.

I found Saenus Lusius first. Without showing him the orders, I introduced myself and spoke briefly to him of the smugglers. He seemed a level-headed sort. Presumably he had gone through the standard Legion training so he would handle himself in combat should it prove necessary.

I then spoke to Gaea Artoria. She was a woman so I made a tentative decision to take her along with me. As we conversed, however, I noticed that she seemed to be the reckless sort who tended to charge in with sword swinging ... much like myself. It would be a pleasure to fight at her side in a straight-ahead simple battle, but this was not a battle.

After thanking her for her time, I changed my mind: I would take Saenus. He was less impetuous and I wanted someone unlike myself to work with for this endeavor.

He had not gone far. Not wasting words, I simply handed him the sealed orders. He broke the seal and read the short note.

"Very well, then: what's the mission? Is it the smuggling that you spoke of before?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, smugglers. Bad enough the enemies outside but now we have problems within."

"You think it is an inside job?"

"Who else would be able to remove weapons from the fort?"

He had a point.

After some thought he continued, "Rashelle, if we are to trace the weapons, we should speak to someone who handles weapons. That would be the smith, Zeno Faustus, in the Armory."

"Sounds good. Let's go."

As we walked, I said, "As a cover story, we'll pretend that you are showing me around. Zeno will think you're trying to 'make' me, OK?"

Saenus actually blushed. Awww.

We reached the Armory and entered. The smith, Zeno, was where I had seen him the last time I had been here.

"... and here we have the Armory," said Saenus to me in his best tour-guide voice. With difficulty I refrained from giggling.

"Hello again, Rashelle", said Zeno. "Need more hammers?"

"Not at the moment, thank you."

"It's a shame there are not more weapons on display," said Saenus. "Zeno had some nice ones not so long ago, including that nifty silver axe I had mentioned to you before. I'd really been hoping to show it to you."

"Oooo," I said, following Saenus's lead. "I would love to have seen that."

I blinked and said to Saenus, "Do you suppose that the smugglers could have taken that silver axe?"

"Smugglers?" said Zeno apprehensively.

"Weapons are being smuggled from the fort," said Saenus. "Do you know anything about that?"

Zeno looked at Saenus, then at me, then back to Saenus.

"L-l-look, I'm not involved in the smuggling, but I hear things, you know?"

A pair of obsidian eyes and a pair of brown eyes transfixed Zeno.

Zeno sputtered.

I slowly drew my sword and said "I get to kill him now, right Saenus?"

I had not planned this part but Saenus was quick on the uptake and went along with it.

"No! Not yet. Remember our orders!"

"But I want to kill him!" I pouted. "You promised that if he was difficult I could kill him!"

"Rashelle: Zeno is not going to be difficult, he is going to tell us all he knows,"

he turned and continued, "aren't you, Zeno?"

Zeno was shaking now.

"Well, can't I just hurt him a little? Please? I won't break any bones."

I licked my lips. I was hamming this up a bit but Zeno was completely fooled.

"L-l-l-look," stuttered the now-sweating smith, "all I know is that some of the weapons have gone missing. I've seen men heading towards North East, probably to the Gandrung Caverns. They are not far from the fort. I'm not involved with the smugglers! I swear I'm not involved! I've just told you all I know"

"Damn, I guess I can't kill you after all."

He let a breath out.

"There there, Rashelle," said Saenus, "If we find that his information is wrong, you can still kill him later."

I grinned the nastiest grin I could manage and said "Excellent!"

Zeno looked like he was going to faint. I sheathed my sword. We departed from the Armory.

As we left the fort and headed towards the North East, I said "Thank you, Saenus, for going along with my sudden inspiration."

"That was great fun, Rashelle. You should have been in the theater."

In my previous travels I actually had passed close to the Gandrung Caverns, but had not realized it. The water near the fort was actually not a river but a short inlet terminated by a Nord barrow that was the entrance to the caverns.

We paused at the door, knee-deep in the water. I turned to Saenus.

"Remember: I don't want to kill unless it is necessary. I would like to sort this out by nonviolent means if possible."

"I understand and agree, but i need clarification: what if we are forced to fight?"

"Saenus, if you see anyone coming at you with weapons raised, you cut them down."

"Understood!"

We both smiled.

We entered. The inside resembled a Nord tomb as well.

From ahead, a rat ran towards us. Saenus silently darted ahead and skewered it on his Imperial short-sword. I approved of his silence.

He walked a few steps ahead. He then paused and pointed to the left. I walked to where he stood and I saw that there was a large hole in the left wall. It led to a cave. There was a rat in the cave and he charged at us. Saenus silently dispatched the creature.

Normally I follow left branches: but this time I motioned to continue ahead, along the non-cave passage. As in the other Nord tombs that I had explored, the corridor did not go on for long before it led into a small room. We killed the rats there. Presumably the smugglers had cleared any Undead out already.

There were a few piles of bones and some large stones that had been carved with decorations or obscure ancient runes. I had seen such stones in other Nord tombs and also in spots here and there on the surface.

Two truncated stone cones, topped with flames, did little to light the area.

Here was another of those ice, but not ice, coffins.

"Saenus," I whispered, "have you seen these before?"

He shook his head.

I put my hand on it. It felt cool, like real ice.

"I've been finding then in Nord tombs around here. They look like ice and are pleasantly cool like ice ..."

He shivered.

"... but they are much harder. My sword can not chip then or scratch them. Ah well, too bad."

Saenus was looking impatient so I turned my attention to the actual task at hand. He pointed back the way we had come. He wanted to now explore the cave. I nodded.

Stealthily we both crept towards the cave. I was impressed that he could move so quietly. Most Legion troopers are useless at sneaking: they are accustomed to charging in and fighting it out ... much like myself at times. This last realization bothered me.

We entered the cave. Another of those stone cone flames provided dim illumination in the cave.

I chopped another rat into two and we followed the cave as it narrowed.

We followed the cave as it bent to the left and encountered our first smuggler. He was facing away from us and looked very Imperial in his full set of uniform armor.

He whirled around and looked at us with a shocked expression.

"Mus! How could you?" said Saenus from my side. Apparently he knew this man: this smuggler therefore had to be a soldier from the fort.

Mus bellowed "We're being attacked!" at the top of his lungs as he drew a silver axe and rushed us. I give him credit for fast recovery time. Saenus raised his shield to block but Mus swung at me instead. Chrysamere parried, effortlessly batting his axe aside. Saenus used this opportunity to get a swing in: it clanged off of Mus's armor.

I evaded a swing and brought my sword down on his raised shield, shattering it.

His axe clanged off of my cuirass. I could feel that it had a paralysis enchantment. My birth sign did not absorb it this time, but the paralysis resistance conveyed to me by Almalexia handled it.

Saenus scored a hit, taking a chunk out of his armor. My claymore then clove his head in two.

"I can't believe that Mus Roscius was part of this." Saenus said.

"So he's in the Legion?"

"Yes: that means this smuggling operation is an inside job, as I had suspected."

We waited silently for a minute. I did not hear anything. Mus's shouts should have brought the others, from wherever they they were, down on us.

I crept stealthily ahead, Saenus behind me.

The cave descended, then leveled off again. After a short time, the cave branched: we could go straight ahead, or to the right and steeply down. I chose to proceed ahead, leaving the right passage for later.

The passage did not go for long. It terminated in a chamber with a wooden platform in it. The platform had a barrel with a lit candle on it, two bed-rolls and a rat. I slew the rat.

Since it was still quiet, we searched the room. There was a chest containing Imperial weapons and armor. The barrel had miscellaneous treasure, such as one would find in any bandit or smugglers cave. There was even a packet of moon sugar.

I showed a packet to Saenus and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.

We returned to the branching and descended.

There were two passages. I chose the right passage because I saw a figure there; a Redguard this time. He wore steel armor and an open troll bone helm.

He saw us, bellowed and raised his axe. It was silver and looked very much like the axe that Mus had used against us. I assumed it also had a paralysis enchantment. So much for talking to this smuggler.

I hit him with a fireball. Fortunately Saenus had not charged ahead, so I did not accidently burn him.

The Redguard reached us and chopped with his axe. Chrysamere smashed against his shield as Saenus swung with his sword.

I dodged the axe and kicked high, hitting him squarely in the chest. He staggered back and, before he could recover, his severed head flew through the air.

"Nice job, Saenus."

"So much for talking, eh?"

I frowned and replied, "I guess."

We retraced our steps to branching and took the other passage.

In a short time this led us to an opening into a larger cave. There was another of those Nord stones with fire on it and two Orcs in full Imperial armor.

"Hold!" I shouted. "I want to talk to you!"

"You will die!" they yelled in unison.

I sighed: how can one be nonviolent when everyone else is violent?

Saenus had some trouble: Orcs are renowned throughout Tamriel as very tough fighters. Fortunately, I was there: Orcs are no longer a challenge for me. I thrust with Chrysamere at the Orc in the imperial chain cuirass, punching through the chain mail and his heart, killing him straightaway.

Rapidly I extracted my blade and took the attack to the other Orc, who had just shattered Saenus's shield and was pressing his advantage.

My attack diverted the Orc, giving Saenus a needed respite.

The Orc swung, his sword bounced off my armor ... and again a paralysis enchantment hit me. I sensed a theme here. Despite my birth-sign and Almalexia's blessing, the paralysis took effect: I was motionless as a statue.

The Orc smiled and raised his axe. Suddenly, his head flew past me. Saenus had just recovered enough to decapitate the Orc for me. Nice timing.

The paralysis wore off. I handed Saenus a potion.

"It's healing potion; take it."

He thanked me and drank it.

"OK, Saenus: they are obviously not in a talking mood. They are beginning to annoy me. No more trying to be nice. Let's just waste 'em."

"I think you're right."

All attempts at sneaking abandoned, I strode forward. Bring them on: I was ready for action.

The cavern narrowed again. It widened again as it turned to the left.

We entered the last cavern. It was dead end. This chamber had a raised wooden platform. On the platform stood another Imperial in uniform armor, lacking only the helm.

I cast a fireball and ran towards him.

"No! No!", the man shouted. "Stop, Mercy!"

He dropped his weapon: a silver staff with a glow of enchantment on it that I suspected was paralysis. He fell to his knees. With difficulty I stopped my swing. I kicked the silver staff away. It clattered and fell off the edge of the platform.

"I appeal to your warm feminine nature: please don't kill me."

I laughed: I couldn't help it. It was just so ludicrous.

Chrysamere rested on one side of his neck, steady despite my laughter. Saenus's sword rested on the other side of his neck. Saenus looked to me. He was going to follow my cue: one signal from me and this smuggler would be no more.

The man looked scared. My laughter had probably instilled more fear in him more than anything else.

One of the beliefs that I share with my House is that an enemy who yields may not be slain honorably. I did not want to slay this man, but he did not know that.

"Hmm, let's see," I said, "I can kill you now. I could instead take you to the fort, where Carius will then kill you anyway. Seems to me, sera, that you are in a predicament."

"P-p-please, let me go. I'll never come back. I'll never smuggle again."

"So," Saenus said, "you'd prefer to live the life of an outlaw deserter than an honorable death? If we let you go now, and you are ever caught by the legion in the future, it will be the death penalty for you."

"Y-y-y-yes, please, let me escape! I'll take that chance! I don't want to die."

The man started to cry. I was flabbergasted. I had never seen an Imperial man in Legion uniform cry before. It was ... unnatural. It was as if water suddenly flowed uphill, or as if guars were to suddenly sprout wings and fly. I didn't know what to do. He continued to cry. The tears ran down his face.

"I-i-i I don't w-w-want to die," he sobbed.

As one, Saenus and I lifted our swords away from the sorry wailing Imperial.

With a surprising quickness, he leaped at Saenus and wrenched away his short-sword. My claymore sliced through empty air, too late to do any good.

"Suckers!" he shouted as he ran from the platform.

Without thought, fire came to me. A stream of flame found the running Imperial. He screamed briefly and then fell, quite dead.

"Stupid fetcher: I was just about to let him go."

I sheathed Chrysamere. Saenus picked himself and dusted himself off.

"Saenus, We've found the weapons and dealt with the smugglers. Let us return to the fort. I expect Carius will send a detail to haul all of this stuff back."

We returned. Captain Carius was pleased at our speedy and thorough handling of the matter.

"Rashelle, if you ever want to join the legion, please talk to me. You'd make an excellent trooper."

He meant it as a compliment, so I smiled.






This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 14 2007, 12:49 AM

Quite unfortunate that smugglers never want to settle things in a civilized manner. Instead they always want to lop your head off for barging in on their operation. The regretful thing is that oftentimes their equipment is far too rudimentary for them to enact said head lopping. Hopefully the experience with that last smuggler won't make Rashelle jaded and give no quarter to anyone no more. Surely, someone out there will realize when they're defeated and simply yield.

I like Rashelle more than allot characters in these stories, simply because she seems to dislike killing enough to actually give it a second thought.

"Warm femenine nature" ... wow, that's just...

This post has been edited by Dire Cheesecake: Jun 16 2007, 07:18 AM

Ah, I have just now begun to read this story, and I must say that it is most enjoyable. There is something in the way you write here--it is refreshing, in its way.

Err, warm? Hello, big Claymore, bare arms in a frigid snowed under climate, bad mood and still you say warm? Weird fellow. I would've liked to talk with him for a bit, after tying him up with some good rope.

I liked the teamwork between the two. And one last thing. It must be really hard for smugglers to recruit. I also wonder how they get to make a deal without cutting up their client.

Good grief! Blockie my dear you are becoming a post-machine! Just finished reading these two latest installments and of course they are awesome...as usual! Rashelle really is a great woman and I do like her. I also like your writing-style, I´ll quote a line that made me smile:



Hehe....Fryse Hags huh?

So Blockie....please keep the updates coming....I need a good read and a good smile! (t´s very healthy!)

Chapter 7. Decision



I stopped in to see Carnius at the East Empire Company offices again. He said there was nothing that needed doing. I thought this odd, as a new colony should be a mass of Things To Do. I kept this last to myself.

"As a matter of fact, the boat now goes there even though a dock has not yet been constructed. More men and supplies have been shipped there since you were there. The progress is excellent."

I thanked him for his time and left.

Marisa was on duty at the Cult chapel.

"Hey Marisa. How are you today?"

"Hello Rashelle. Much better. Thank you again."

"It was my pleasure."

A thought struck me and, impulsive as ever, I blurted it out; "Marissa, did you tell the Nords up at Thirsk to stop drinking mead?"

I felt bad to ask this question, as I then realized it would bring back the memories of her ordeal.

She shuddered and hugged herself.

"Oh Marisa, I'm sorry I brought it up."

She took a breath, closed her eyes, released it before speaking.

"No Rashelle, it is all right. Yes, I did, though the Cult has no actual ban on alcohol."

"Marisa, if it hurts to talk about it, forget I brought it up." I was curious but I not want to press her.

"I'm sorry Rashelle, it's just that I've had some ... experiences ... with the effects of mead. I can't talk about it. Drinking is fine, but mead is evil."

I nodded. I would have to leave it at that. I apologized for upsetting her and departed.

I left the fort and walked west, in the general direction of Raven Rock. I was headed there because I was curious as to how things were going. I also was going there because of my earlier resolve to reduce the damage done by the East Empire Company: it was time for me to start watching things and participating where I could.

I killed another of those damn Fryse Hags on the way, as well as the berserker, the bear, and the two spriggans that attacked me.

It was in the early afternoon when I reached the colony. I was amazed at what had been done: in the two days that I had been away, two buildings had been erected: a mine entrance and a house.

"Rashelle, good to see you," said a tired-looking Falco, "It's good that you've come around."

"Carnius said you had no need of me, but I want to lend a hand anyway."

"Why would he say that? We are very busy."

"That's what I figured."

"Look Rashelle, I assume Carnius wanted you more as a courier and troubleshooter, but I have many more ... well ... menial tasks that need doing. I feel embarrassed to ask this but we need them done."

"Go on, " I replied. "I want to help. Just don't ask me to cook: I never got beyond the 'kill it and grill it' stage."

He smiled.

For a few days I did various tasks along with the men. I worked on digging the mine: that was brutal. There are no spells for excavation so we all wielded miner's pick axes. I hunted. I did end up cooking ... once. They never asked me to cook again, though I did try my best. I don't know why my alchemy skill doesn't carry over into food preparation.

I assisted in the construction of houses, carrying out the unskilled portions of the work.

At one point, a snow bear attacked. I had heard of snow bears but this was the first time that I had seen one. The vicious creature cast a strong frost spell which of course hurt me not at all. The men were impressed by the rapidity by which I dispatched the beast.

Work continued. We slept in rotating shifts; therefore it was not a surprise that, when Falco's approaching footsteps woke me, it was still dark. I am a light sleeper, even after an exhausting shift of digging.

"Rashelle, we have a problem."

I rubbed my eyes, then looked questioningly up at him.

"There's a Nord, says he's from that Skaal place up north. He's blocked the mine entrance and won't let anyone in."

I stood up and said, "And you want me to get rid of him, don't you?"

I sighed as I sheathed Chrysamere: I didn't want to kill some unknown Nord.

"Rashelle, don't kill him!"

I raised an eyebrow. I had not expected such a sentiment from an East Empire Company employee. It was a welcome change.

"Rashelle, I don't want to annoy the people who already live here. I want to minimize the damage that the Company does here."

I was shocked. Falco was echoing my earlier private thoughts on the matter! This impressed me. I smiled and nodded. He pointed to the mine entrance. I could see a big Nord by the light of a torch.

I approached him.

"Aye lass, that armor fits you well. You'd make a pretty shield maiden, you would."

"The shield maidens are virgin warrior women," I answered.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised at my knowledge of Nord folklore. My reading of the other day was coming back to me.

"But who are the Fryse Hags?" I asked.

I suppose this was a silly thing to ask, as my business was to simply get rid of him, but ... I hated not knowing.

"They worship Kyne ... "

"... the mother of Men," I interrupted, "Her 'daughters' gave you Nords the thu'um or 'storm voice' ability. She is the widow of Shor, who was killed by the other gods for creating the Mundus. But what about the Hags themselves? What is their purpose? Where do they come from?"

Here he was, blocking the mine to protect the land, a goal I could agree with somewhat. Here I was, charged with the mission of getting rid of him ... yet I was instead conversing with him about Nord religion and folklore. I mentally shrugged. I sometimes had unusual impulses for handling situations, yet they often worked. I'd just continue on and see where it led me.

He seemed off balance, made nervous by either my knowledge or the direction of my questioning. When someone is off balance, you can often hit them with a question and get an answer that you would not otherwise.

"How is Erich The Unworthy? When I visited your village, he was still recovering from that wolf bite."

This last was an obvious lie, that I had just made up on impulse.

"Oh, err, he's doing fine. I think he mentioned you, come to think of it."

I had never been to the Skaal village. Erich was not of the Skaal, and was also no longer among the living. I had just caught this Nord in a lie. He was not from the Skaal village ... most interesting. It made matters easier: nothing I did would offend the Skaal.

He then recovered and said, "Be that as it may, you all need to clear out! You are ruining the land. There will be no digging into, uh, sacred Nord soil."

Riiiiiight ... and I can can sell you some prime real estate in Cyrodiil.

"You will leave now," I said.

"You going to make me, pretty-face?"

I decked him.

He picked himself up, rubbing his jaw.

"Ha! A lucky punch. Try it again!"

He raised his fists and sort of danced around in what was apparently supposed to be a combat stance.

I decked him again. I waited politely as he picked himself up, again.

"Feh! No mere woman is going to ... " he said as he leaped for me.

He lay on the ground, curled up around his stomach, where I had kicked him. As adamantium boots are kind of hard, I had somewhat pulled my kick, reducing the force of the impact so as to cause no permanent damage.

"... oog," he said after he recovered his breath. "You're strong for a woman."

"Ha! I'm strong for a man! Now do you want some more of that or are you going to scram?"

He slowly got up. I waited. He dusted himself off. My eyes met his. They dared him to try something.

"What are you? Some kind of Valkyrie?"

"I'm a sweet little innocent Breton spell-sword who can thrash you without breaking a sweat, who knows you are not of the Skaal, and who is recommending that you leave ... now."

He hesitated.

"The next kick will be lower. It will hurt more."

He fled.

The men began to clap.

"Nicely done!"

"Awesome!"

"Remind me not to mess with you."

I smiled and returned to Falco.

"Most impressive," he said, "and well done. Thank you."

"That man was not of the Skaal."

"What?"

"I caught him at a lie. I asked about someone who is not at the Skaal village. He didn't catch on."

Falco's face clouded up and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. This news did not surprise him. Interesting.

I waited.

Falco said nothing. It was apparent to me that he knew something that I did not ... and that he was not going to tell me. He didn't trust me. This was fair enough and I could understand the logic. Perhaps at a later time he would decide that he could tell me.

The next day or so passed without incident: we made further progress both at construction on the surface and excavation below the surface. The men now did not have to all sleep in one house.

The pick axes, which we used to dig in the rock, were wearing out. Two had become useless already.

"Rashelle," said Falco, "as we now have more men than tools, you are freed up for other tasks."

I nodded.

"I would like you to return to the fort and inform Carnius of our progress. Also I would like you to ask him to see about getting us more pick axes."

I nodded.

"Thank you Rashelle."

I cast Divine Intervention and was returned to the fort. I entered the Imperial Cult chapel building and ran up the spiraling stairs to the second floor.

"Good morning Rashelle," said Carnius. "I have work for you."

I nodded.

"I'd like you to retrieve a shipping manifest for me. Normal procedure is for any manifest to be brought to me after each shipment. A ship was due at Raven Rock yesterday."

This was news to me. There had been no ship yesterday, nor had Falco been expecting a ship.

An instinct made me unwilling to reveal to Carnius that I had just come from Raven Rock so I simply nodded and said: "Right, I'm on it."

"Thank you Rashelle."

I left the office and then cast Recall. I had cast a Mark spell in Raven Rock a few days ago, so I was teleported to Raven Rock, within a few paces of where Falco happened to be standing.

"Falco, Carnius asked me to bring him a shipping manifest, yet we have not had a shipment."

"Strange."

"Indeed."

"I wonder if there has been a ship, but it is lost at sea or something. Maybe they had to put in at an inlet or natural harbor elsewhere on the island."

As the sea between Vvardenfell and the the rest of Tamriel is little more than a channel, and as the distance between Solstheim and Vvardenfell is not much wider, I expected that it would be impossible to get lost ... though perhaps a storm at sea had thrown them off course.

"Rashelle, the only thing I can say is to ask around. Perhaps one of the men saw a ship yesterday or during the night or something."

I nodded. It was weak, but I could not think of a better idea.

I asked around and one of the men said that he had noticed a light to the northwest, some time last night.

After informing Falco of this news, I headed northwest.

I entered into an area that was familiar: I walked past the snow covered entrance to Geilir the Mumbling's place.

On the coastline, a little bit west of Geilir's place, I found the ship. It was half out of the water, as if some idiot had decided to ram the land. On impact the ship must have turned: the port side faced me, and the starboard side faced the sea.

I had never seen draugr outside of a tomb before: there were three of them near the ship. In good light they were even uglier. They were eating the corpses of the crew. I shuddered. I had been told that the draugr fed on the living but to actually see it was a shock.

They spotted me and rushed to attack. With fire and sword, I finished them off. I then approached the ship and examined the corpses. Each one had its throat torn out. Portions of the bodies were missing; presumably eaten by the Draugr. I recognized the corpse of the Bosmer ship captain who had taken the men and I to to the colony the other day.

I cast a brief levitation spell and rose up in the air. I then settled onto the tilted deck just as the spell cut out. It looked as if there were no survivors but I was going to search the boat: we needed mining picks.

I found a hatchway and descended below decks.

On board were a variety of supplies. Since the ship was mostly above the water, it appeared that much of the cargo was still in good condition. There were crates of ash yams, clothing, nails, tools and other necessities. I would not take them now: I was focused on the miner's pick axes. I found five picks scattered in various locations. The cargo had shifted when the ship crashed. Whoever had stowed the cargo on board was an idiot. Good dock workers know to pack the cargo in a ship so that it cannot move, no matter what conditions the ship sails through.

Pick axes clutched in my hands, I ascended the ladder topside.

I was about to cast a Recall spell, when I heard a faint sobbing. It sounded like a woman.

I jumped to the ground, dumped the picks, and slowly began to walk along the side of the ship. I heard nothing, now. I continued to walk. I passed the bow of the ship and turned. I was standing in the water now and could see the starboard side of the ship. There was an Imperial woman in the water, huddled against the ship. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and wore an expensive looking skirt and blouse. The skirt was drenched. She shivered and looked most pitiful. Her face was streaked with tears and ruined makeup.

She saw me and said "Get the horrible creatures away."

"I've slain them."

I held my hand out. She grasped it and I then pulled her up. Closer, I could see that her eyes were grey.

I led her out from behind the ship.

She saw the dead draugr and shrieked "Get the horrible creatures away!"

"Shh, it's OK now. Those draugr are dead!"

She saw the bloody corpses and kept screaming.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

"SHUT UP, you stupid woman! Do you want to draw every beast in Solstheim here? Be quiet!"

She gulped and nodded.

She shivered. Her clothing might be nice for a dinner party in a rich mansion in Cyrodiil, but was certainly not appropriate for this environment.

"I am Rashelle. What happened here?"

"I'm Apronia Alfena. We were on the way to Raven Rock. The weather started to get bad. The captain was a wood elf."

The uninformed often use the term "wood elf" to refer to the Bosmeri.

"Wood elves live in the trees! They know nothing about oceans and ships and things like that."

There was truth to this: I had been surprised when I first met the Bosmer ship captain the other day.

"The next thing I knew, the whole ship shook and then shuddered. There was a horrid breaking sound. It hurt my ears! Then the boat was here on the land, not in the water!

"These, these, these THINGS came and ... and ..."

She started to cry.

"I-I-I hid. I was in the cold wet water. They wandered around but could not see me. I've been there since last night. I'm drenched and I'm cold and I'm tired."

"We are in the wilderness," I said. "We are northwest of the Raven rock colony. I can give you a Divine Intervention Potion. You will be teleported to the Imperial fort. You will be safe there."

"No, I want to go to Raven Rock. That is why I was on board the ship."

"Very well, then. I'm going to take you there, but you have got to be quiet and you have got to obey me. Can you do that?"

She nodded.

"I'll fetch you something to eat from the ship."

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I can't eat after seeing this. I feel sick."

Incongruously she gave out a small burp.

"Oog. Oh, excuse me."

"Take off your shoes," I said as I retrieved the pick axes.

"What is this, some creepy religious ritual?"

"Those are high heels. you will not be able to walk in them."

"Oh, but they cost almost 100 drakes," she whined.

I was fast losing patience with this woman.

"Look Apronia: just do as I say or you stay here, OK?"

She took off her shoes.

"Let's go."

I strode ahead.

"Wait for me, I can't go that fast!"

I had to slow my pace.

I wondered if I could get her to carry some of the pick axes but I expect she couldn't even carry even one of them for very long.

She tripped on a branch and cursed in an un-ladylike manner.

As we passed by Geilir the Mumbling's place, I thought about taking her there to rest. I decided that I could not impose on him so we pressed on, southeast, in the direction of the colony.

She stumbled again. A long skirt is just not the proper attire for the snowy wilderness of Solstheim. If we encountered a Hag, and if the Hag attacked, I could have Apronia change into her clothes.

A spriggan rushed towards us.

"Stay still and be quiet! I will handle this!" I hissed as I dropped the pick axes.

Trembling, she nodded ... silently, for which I was glad.

I fought and killed the spriggan.

"It will come back to life twice more. Don't panic."

As I fought the spriggan for the second time, I could hear, and then see, that Apronia was being menaced by a wolf. Oddly enough the wolf seemed content to growl at her threateningly, without attacking her. Perhaps her hysterical shrieking was bothering its ears? It certainly bothered mine.

I finished off the spriggan. Quickly, I turned to the wolf and dispatched it. I then whirled around, expecting to face the Spriggan for a third time. The creature did not rise again: someone else must have killed it once already.

Apronia kept screaming. The sound was ripping through my head.

"Shut the oblivion up! The fetcher is dead already!"

I gave her my Look. It succeeded in silencing her.

I could not go on. She was too slow. Everything made her scream. I'd go mad before we made it to the colony ... or I would kill her.

Before she could react, I picked her up. I had one arm under her legs and one under her shoulders. She squealed and kicked her feet.

"Shut up and quit wiggling! I'm trying to save your sorry butt!"

She whimpered, but quietly.

I'd come back for the miner's picks later.

Finally, I could travel at speed. I ran as fast as the terrain would allow. She threw her arms around my neck, closed her eyes tightly and whimpered. The poor woman was terrified: I felt a little upset, but it was faster this way! We could avoid fighting most of the creatures. When we reached an area without snow on the ground, I picked up more speed. Some creatures tried to attack but I left them behind.

I had to slow down as we reached partially snow-covered ground. Ahead of us reared a bear. I didn't want to drop Apronia so I tried a targeted paralyze spell. It is tough to cast with a burden in one's arms but it can be done. This spell didn't always work, but this time fortune was with me. I left the motionless bear behind and continued my run.

I was relieved when we finally reached Raven Rock.

Falco raised an eyebrow as he saw me run into the colony, Apronia in my arms.

"Falco. I found the ship, northwest of here. This woman is the only survivor."

I spoke to her: "Apronia, we are here. Please let go of me and stand up."

She opened her eyes and fearfully looked around.

"Apronia. I am going to put you down now. Let go please."

She did. I released her and stood her up. One of the men threw a blanket over her shoulders.

"T-Thank you," she said.

The men sat her down by the fire.

"Oh, and guys?" I said.

They looked towards me.

"No funny stuff. She's under my protection, OK?"

"Yes sera!" they chorused.

I turned to Falco, who said, "That was a good thing you did, rescuing her. What happened?"

"Ship ran aground. Draugr attacked. She hid and survived. The rest were killed."

He nodded.

"Rashelle?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure it seemed cold of me to ask this, but did you find any ..."

I interrupted: "I'll fetch them now. I'll be back shortly."

The miner's pick axes were where I had dropped them and I Recalled back to the colony.

"Thank you Rashelle."

I nodded.

"Rashelle, may I speak with you in private?"

He waved an arm and walked south, towards the water. I followed. He stopped when we reached the shore.

"Now we are out of earshot and also far enough away that no one watching can lip-read our conversation. We have things to discuss, Rashelle."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I volunteered for this assignment. I know how the Empire, and how certain people in the Company, do things. I want this colony to be successful. I want to do this without damaging the land, as much as I can. I don't want some executive's private agenda ruining things."

I nodded.

"We've come to a crossroads. It's time for you to make a decision."

I waited.

"I am suspicious of Carnius Magius. He is up to something. He is always up to something. He has a history. For every project that he manages, he always has a second, secret, project. This second project exists solely for the sake of lining his pockets and filling his coffers. He gets rich and everyone else suffers. He skims, he schemes, and he destroys. Nothing can be proved, of course."

I sensed truth here. I had a gut feeling. Carnius had been pleasant to me, but I recalled his contempt for Red-spear. Carnius's unwillingness to send me over to help the colony had already raised a small suspicion. Falco's little speech had caused the suspicion to grow in size.

And who had sent that Nord?

"Rashelle, I want the colony to work. I want it to thrive. I want to not offend the Skaal or the people up at Thirsk. Eventually I see trade with them. I want to be good neighbors.

"I want you to take your orders only from me, not from Carnius. You must decide now if you are going to follow him or me."

I don't like being made to decide things "now". Still, I took a second or two to consider.

Carnius, disdainful of the natives, directing from his office.

Falco, who led directly, who got his hands dirty along with the rest of us and who shared my desire to minimize the damage that the Empire caused.

The choice was easy.

"I will follow you from here on, Falco. My own reason for joining up is to reduce the negative effects on the land and people as much as I can."

He smiled, a relieved sort of smile.

"Thank you, Rashelle. Now I can tell you the rest."

He did so. Though he knew not what it was, he knew that there was something here that Carnius wanted. He wanted it more than the ebony. This last was a puzzle: I could not think of anything more valuable than ebony. Neither could Falco.

"Back to work?" he asked.

"Back to work." I answered.

I looked up at the sky. The position of the sun indicated that it was in the mid to late afternoon.








This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 4 2007, 01:16 AM

Nice stuff. Good dialogue with the Nord and Apronia. Too bad about the Bosmer captain though. I like Bosmer.

Hmm, what would Carnius want? I could search the Uesp and get the answer, but that would take the fun out of it. Personally, I'm going to guess that it's Stalhrim. If steel can't bloody cut it. (Or Chrysamere for that matter.) I bet it will be worth a fortune and being found only on Solstheim, he'd have the monopoly. And finally, Stalhrim doesn't fall under the same rules as Ebony so he could smuggle at will.

Oh, now I also know why the native Nords would hate his guts. They use it to bury their dead, right? Mining and exporting Stalhrim would be like graverobbery.

Another strong update. I too enjoyed Rashelle's interaction with our lone boat survivor. Excellently written. Keep it up!

Chapter 8. Attack



"Go tell Carnius about the ship. He'll need to know. In the meantime, some of the men and I will go to the shipwreck and see to the dead and to the supplies on board."

"Right, Falco. I'm on it."

I cast Divine Intervention and was teleported to the fort.

I saw Severia. She smiled and greeted me; "Hail, Rashelle! How can I help you, my sister-in-arms?"

"Hello, Severia. Good to see you again."

I told her of the shipwreck and that I was on my way to bring the news to Carnius. She bid me good afternoon and I entered the Imperial Cult building.

"Good afternoon, Rashelle," said Carnius after I entered his office. "Have you the manifest?"

"Carnius, the ship was wrecked. It ran aground on the west coast."

He swore and pounded his desk with considerable force. The man was stronger than he looked.

I waited.

"Thank you for informing me of this."

He swore again.

"It's setbacks like this that bother me! I hate things that I cannot control!"

I remained silent.

"I'm sorry Rashelle, this news has just upset me."

"Understandable. All but one on board were killed."

"Now, I'll have to charter another ship for the run. That's going to eat into my profits. Well, I've no work for you at the moment. Thank you, Rashelle."

I nodded and left. Carnius had been unconcerned about the people who had died. I also disliked the fact that he had said "my" profits. Just then, I had seen part of the "real" Carnius coming through. I didn't like it. I was glad that I had allied myself with Falco.

I stood outside and looked up at the sky again: there was not much daylight left. I wondered if I could treat myself to dinner at the fort before heading back to Raven rock. The colony could function without me for an hour or so.

Looking to the north archway, I saw Reinhardt Red-spear. An idea formed in my mind and I walked over to him.

"Still interested in some work?"

"Aye, lass, indeed I am."

"Can you handle a pick axe?"

He nodded.

"Can you cook?"

He nodded.

"How do you feel about the Raven Rock colony?"

He sighed. "It was unavoidable, I suppose. The ebony there was going to attract the Empire eventually. I just hope they don't damage the land too much."

"If you were to work at Raven Rock, you could help to lessen the negative impact. I've been working there the past few days. We could use the help."

"That Carnius fellow won't hire me."

I smiled.

"Don't you worry about that. Go there now and speak to Falco. He's the Imperial in the armor. Tell him I sent you. Mention 'kill it and grill it' and he'll know that I sent you."

He raised both eyebrows.

"Kill it and grill it," I repeated. "Got it?"

"I don't get it, but I got it."

"Excellent. I'll see you there at some point."

He strode off towards the west. I estimated that he'd get there shortly after sunset.

I ran into Saenus Lusius. He told me that most of the smuggled weapons had been moved from the caverns back to the armory.

Procis Catraso waved from where he paced atop the wall. Obviously, he had watch duty again. I returned his wave and then turned to walk towards the Cult building again: I would see if more of certain ingredients had arrived.

"Rashelle."

I turned and there was Severia again.

"Have you time for dinner?"

"I was thinking of that before, actually," I said, "but I really need to clean up first."

"No problem, follow me."

She led me to an area of the fort I had not yet explored. We stopped at a door. Severia knocked imperiously and shouted "Female officer present! You have thirty seconds to clear out!"

I jumped. Imperials, when they want to, have a way of commanding with their voice. Her military training had probably enhanced this talent. Even though I knew of this ability, it still affected me.

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She grinned knowingly and said nothing.

The door banged open and a wet Dunmer partially in uniform armor scurried past us, pausing only to salute Severia. He carried a towel and the rest of his apparel.

"After you, Rashelle."

I entered and found myself in a stone room. There was a rack of towels to one side. Buckets, some filled with water, lined a wall. Three wooden tubs were against the far wall.

"Cold water only, but I expect that won't bother you. The soap is over there." She pointed. "I'll stand watch as you wash up."

"Thank you."

I stripped and washed the worst of the dirt off. After I dried myself and dressed, I felt a new woman.

"Thank you, Severia."

"There's still a little time before dinner starts. I'm doing my rounds. Walk with me?"

"Rounds?"

"It is always a good idea for me to randomly poke around the fort every few hours. I do rounds several times a day. Knowing that an officer could appear anywhere, at any time, keeps the troops out of trouble."

I grinned and said, "Nice."

I accompanied her. She took me through areas of the fort that I had not yet explored. She gave me a running commentary as we patrolled. It was very interesting, full of gossip and snippets of useful information.

Dinner was not the festive party that it had been the last time, as that had been a special occasion ... yet it was still pleasant. The food was certainly better than what I'd been eating the past few days.

The sun had already set as we exited the mess hall, sober this time.

"Thank you again Severia. I've got to go back to the colony now. There is so much work to be done."

"I understand: duty calls."

I heard a deep howling, as if a pack of ... large .. wolves were nearby.

"Werewolves!" shouted one of the men from atop the wall.

Quick as thought, I drew Chrysamere. Severia had her blade out as well.

Through the archways they came, larger than wolves. Unlike natural wolves, they ran like men, on two legs. They were fast and upon us in an instant.

Once again I stepped into the fray, my claymore swinging in long arcs as it cut through werewolves. Individually, they were not so formidable, but in pack like this they were quite deadly. As I cut one down, another slashed at my cuirass.

I threw the the body of one just-dispatched creature at a second one. Claws from another attacker only missed my face because I pulled my head back rapidly.

I kicked a creature that had been menacing Gaea. I then felt a impact from behind and I was suddenly down, a werewolf on top of me. It snarled. I wriggled and twisted over to get at him. An arrow suddenly appeared in his eye, presumably from one of the troopers on the wall. It was a good shot: the arrow had found the brain, killing the beast instantly.

I pushed the now-dead werewolf away from me. Another one attacked me. Still on the ground, I rolled rapidly to one side and thrust with Chrysamere. I yanked my blade from the body and stood up.

Something hit my cuirass: another attack from behind. I whirled around to see another creature. I slew it and then looked for the next one.

Saenus was fighting two werewolves and I could see that he was bleeding. I ran to assist him. With one swing, I decapitated one of the creatures. He then was able to finish the other one.

"Many thanks, Rashelle."

There wasn't time to hand him a potion: we were both immediately engaged in further combat.

As I fought, I could see that some of the bodies of the dead creatures were shimmering and changing. I tried to not let this distract me as I severed an arm from another werewolf. He howled in pain and fell. As I dispatched him, I noted that some of the bodies had finished changing and were now naked Nords. On death, their lycanthropy ended.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. I slowly turned and surveyed the aftereffects of the battle.

The well in the center of the fort had been damaged, its roof torn away. The doors to each building had been demolished: some werewolves must have gone inside. The stone walls were obviously undamaged: while werewolves are strong, even the strongest claws cannot break stone.

There were dead naked Nords all around me, as well as some dead and wounded troopers. I gave potions to the wounded. Joleen and Marisa were also outside now, also handing out potions or simply applying healing spells, depending on the severity of the injuries.

"Rashelle,"

I turned to see Gaea and Severia approaching me.

"Thank you for your help," said Gaea. "You've saved many lives. We have an additional problem, though. Captain Carius is missing."

"Was he killed?"

"No; missing. We've done a quick search: no body. Werewolves were seen running up the stairs heading for his office. They never came back down. They have not been found, nor has the captain. It looks as if they kidnapped him and were somehow teleported away.

"Rashelle, I need to find out where those werewolves came from. Are they going to come back? Were they sent by someone? Though I cannot be sure, I suspect that the Skaal are behind this."

Again, mention of the Skaal: I really needed to pay them a visit. I was tired of hearing rumors about them: I wanted to see for myself what they were really like. Perhaps they could even provide me with information on the Fryse Hags.

Gaea continued; "I would like you to go to the Skaal, gain their trust and get them to talk to you."

She handed me ... a skull.

I looked questioningly at her.

"We found this skull in a Nord tomb. If you return it to the Skaal, they might be more inclined to talk."

I took the skull. That seemed to be weak logic but I would do it.

"Thank you Rashelle. I would like you to head out first thing in the morning, if that is OK with you."

"I'll go now. The wounded have been attended to and I see no reason for me to wait."

"Are you sure? It's dark now."

"Yes."

"Good luck, Rashelle."

I cast Recall and was teleported to the colony. Falco had returned from the shipwreck so I was able to talk to him. He had already put Reinhardt to work. I thanked him and updated him regarding events at the fort. Lastly, I explained that I would be away for a time.

"Rashelle, I understand. For all we know, those werewolves could attack us here in Raven Rock next. It is best that you go to the Skaal and sort things out."

I cast Intervention and returned to the fort. I then left through the north arch.

I walked for an hour or so. The only novel happening was an attack by a snow wolf. Like the snow bears, they can cast frost damage spells.

It was getting late but still I pressed on: I was not in the mood to stop just yet and the light from one of the moons (the other was not up yet) reflected off of the snow on the ground, casting everything in a glowing blue hue and providing some illumination. With all of the snow in Solstheim, it almost never gets truly dark.

I marveled at how snow made everything look better. I tried to imagine what the Ashlands would look like if they were covered in snow.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rapid clomping of hooves: two frost boar, rode by rieklings. I took a few minutes to fight them and then continued on my way.

I entered an area where there were more trees, thickly grouped together. They were snow covered, and they were beautiful in the moonlight.

An instinct warned me, but it too late: a net dropped down on me. Weights on the edges of the net had sped its descent and now kept it down. I slashed with my claymore but of course that did not work.

Out of the woods, on all sides, rushed many Fryse Hags. From above, another hag tackled me. Presumably, she had thrown the net.

Fire came to me, as that seems to be the one magic that I can perform without conscious thought.

I rolled on the ground, through the pieces of burning net. My fist smashed into the jaw of the Hag that was on top of me.

I felt several frost-enchanted daggers and one spark-sword cut into me, yet still I fought on. Rising, but not yet standing, I beheaded one hag. My foot shot out and kicked another one.

I was standing now. One leaped for me and I skewered her on my blade. A dagger dug into me as I was pulling my sword free: she'd slid it between the cuirass and my shoulder. My birth sign absorbed the enchantment but the blade had pierced deeply. A wave of pain rushed through me but I did not have time to heal it, or even to remove the dagger.

Silently I slashed at her. She dodged back as another dagger bounced off of my cuirass.

I cast a fireball and another Hag was out of the fray, screaming horribly as she burned.

There was a pause. The four remaining Hags warily circled me, out of my reach. I turned and glared. The dagger was still embedded in my shoulder.

"Who's next?" I hissed.

One rushed towards me. She impaled herself on my sword. I don't mean this as a figure of speech ... this one looked me in the eyes and actually, in a purposeful manor, ran into my blade. Her eyes dulled with pain, yet she somehow pressed herself forward a few inches more before dying.

The others attacked. As my sword was entangled, I was at a great disadvantage. That Hag had killed herself just to make it easier for the others to attack me. This was a disturbing realization.

I threw the body, with Chrysamere still embedded in it, at one of the Hags. I would have to finish this without my claymore. Dodging to the right, I elbowed the rightmost Hag aside. I then grasped the leftmost Hag's dagger-hand wrist and jerked as hard as I could. My muscles bulged, the pain in my shoulder made me see stars, and she went flying. I heard a thunk and a snapping sound.

I spun and kicked one of the two remaining Hags. The other one slashed at my arm. I punched her once in the stomach, then the jaw. I chopped at her throat with the edge of my hand. She fell and made a gasping and wheezing sound.

The Hag that I had kicked, just before, came at me again with her dagger raised. I kicked once and the dagger was gone. I kicked again and she was down. With a dagger pulled from a corpse, I slashed and she was dead.

I then dispatched the gasping Hag.

I looked around for the Hag that I had thrown, as I expected her to return and resume her murderous intentions. She lay dead by a tree, her head at an unnatural angle: she'd hit the trunk and snapped her neck.

Finally I was able to pull that dagger from my shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound. I poured one healing potion directly on the injury and then drank a second potion.

I retrieved my sword and wiped it clean on the fur shirt of one of the Hags.

I'd never encountered so many Hags at once before. That net had been a new trick. Were they now hunting me? But how could they? Every Hag that I had encountered I had killed: word of a strange Breton in ebony could not get back to the other Hags.

Then I recalled the one Hag who I had not killed. She was the one that I had tried to talk to the other day. It looked as if my merciful impulse had almost gotten me killed.

But that was paranoid! Why would a bunch of psycho Nord women want to ... hunt me. I was not important. In Vvardenfell I was the Nerevarine but here I was nobody: there was no reason to focus on me. Then again, if I were really dealing with psychos, their reason would be unfathomable to me.

There was no rational reason to believe that the Hags were hunting specifically for me ... but I had a gut feeling. I knew that they were hunting me ... as if I were an animal. A rage began to build. This animal has claws. I would take the hunt to them. If it was war they wanted, then I would bring it to them.

I contemplated commencing my Hag hunt immediately, wandering the entire night, hunting and killing as many as I could find.

Reason reasserted itself: I had made a promise to find the Skaal village and ascertain about the captain and the werewolves.

I keep my promises: I do not go back on my word. I value this more than anything. Money is ephemeral. Possessions can be taken. Your word is all you have. If you break that, you have nothing. I continued to travel towards the Skaal village.

It was late when I reached Thirsk. I could possibly press on and reach my destination, most likely before dawn ... but I don't think a tired-looking Breton would make a good first impression.

I looked at the mead hall and dithered. Marisa had suffered here. I'd already killed one of their own. I had no good memories of this place. Still, the chieftain had seemed a decent sort, as had Svenga Snow-Song.

But could I forgive the rest of them for what had happened?

I recalled my last conversation with Salas Valor. His ghost had forgiven me though I had slain him. The victims of the ash storms had forgiven me. Marisa had forgiven Svenga. If Marisa, the actual victim, could forgive ... then I should be able to as well. Still I hesitated.

The night had gotten cold, too cold even for me. While I had kept moving it had not been that noticeable but now that I had stopped, I was uncomfortable.

Through the clear cold night air I could hear singing from inside Thirsk.

Outside, cold and dark. Inside, warmth, song and light.

Focus Rashelle. Focus.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The hall was as I had remembered it, though this time it was crowded: the party was in full swing. Nords, both women and men, stood near the center of the room or sat at tables near the side, singing. Here and there some had passed out.

They saw me.

The sudden quiet was a palpable shock. They had all stopped singing, save for one very drunk woman who song a few more words and then stopped, looking around in confusion.

"washh gon on?" she said. She belched and put her head on the table.

You could cut the tension with a dagger. Would I have to fight after all? I really did not want to.

From the crowd in the middle strode Skjoldr Wolf-runner, the chieftain of Thirsk.

"Rashelle, I am glad to see you. you have done a great service to Thirsk. I am grateful. Welcome."

I waited. We all waited.

"Lass, can you forgive us?"

He paused.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked.

"I'm not sure if I can."

Silence.

"But I will try."

He grinned and said, "Thank you."

The festivities resumed. Seemingly out of nowhere, Svenja Snow-Song appeared and hugged me.

"Oh Rashelle, I'm glad you came back. Really, I am."

I smiled. I was glad to see her again.

"What will you have?" she said. "Whatever you want, it's on the house."

"All I want right now is a warm place to sleep."

"You do look tired. Let's see what we can arrange."

She put an arm around me and steered me through the crowd. We reached those same stairs. I halted and then drew away from her.

"I do not have a happy memory from up there, Svenja."

"I know, but you've killed that swine ... for which we are all thankful. Things are better now, you'll see."

She took my hand and said, "Come on. It's OK."

She pitched her voice like a herder coaxing a skittish guar.

"Please," she said. "It will be OK."

She tugged gently on my hand.

I nodded. She led me up the stairs.






This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 24 2007, 03:34 AM

And so it begins, the Bloodmoon!

Oh, and those hags really need to get their behind whacked by a Kagouti.

Just read two awesome updates!....Gets me in the mood for a shortie.....yeah..truly inspirational it is....I can´t wait for the continuation.

This Hag situation is a rather neat side-plot. I'm very interested in seeing how Rashelle will solve this problem. Hopefully it won't require mass slaughter but if that's how things go down, that's how they go down. Excellent work!

Thank you all again for your comments.

Dire Cheesecake:
Rashelle has a very warm and feminine nature, when in the appropriate situation. That wasn't it.


Minque:
Thanks. It's a challange for me (a male) to write a female character, so to have positive feedback from a real woman is reassuring.


Jack Cloudy:
Sorry, here I was just following the way it went in the game. I think that's the only Bosmer death in the story, if it helps any.


Metal Mallet:
Thank you. We'll be seeing more of Apronia. She's fun to write.

Carnius is also fun to write: he writes himself. I find myself having to hold him back, though. That poor desk, he keeps hitting it!


Metal Mallet:
I'm still working on the details of this plot so it's hard to say. It is one of two original (not in the game) sideplots so we'll just see how they go. I also hope to avoid another mass slaughter but ... well ... hey ... it happens.


And now ...

--

Chapter 9. Skaal



"More tea, Rashelle?" said Svenja Snow-Song.

"No, thank you."

Most of Thirsk was still asleep. I had risen early because I tend to do that anyway and because I had things to do. Svenja also was an early riser. She told me that she liked the mornings because she could get much of the administrative tasks of Thirsk done without interruptions.

Though Skjoldr Wolf-Runner was the chieftain, Svenja handled many of the day-to-day details of Thirsk operations. She tracked the inventory, ordered more mead as needed, and coordinated the occasional hunting parties. She was effectively his second in command.

"While Thirsk was originally founded by members of the Skaal, and while we are on good terms with them, there is not much to say about them. Their village is to the north. They respect nature and the wilderness. Wolves and bears in particular, they hold in high regard."

I nodded.

"As such, they might know more about these werewolves of yours."

"I'm just surprised that this happened though neither of the moons were full."

"Oh Rashelle, that whole moon phase thing is just folklore. Werewolves change every night."

I raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Maybe the werewolves in Cyrodill are different."

Indeed. Good to know.

"Silver hurts them. Any silver weapon does much greater damage than an equivalent non-silver weapon."

I nodded. That much I knew already.

"What do you know of the Fryse Hags?"

She told me what she knew, which revealed no new information save for one interesting fact: Hags would often lurk about near Fort Frostmoth and watch. When anyone left the fort, they would follow. A runner would be sent ahead to where the others waited and they would set up a trap. This shed a new insight as to last night's ambush. They may not have been hunting me in particular: they had simply attacked me because I had come from the fort.

While their murderous intentions were still a danger, I was nonetheless relieved to learn that it was not part of some larger scheme which targeted me in particular.

She sighed sadly and said, "I guess it's time for you to resume your trip to the Skaal."

"Yes, it is. Thank you for putting me up for the night, and for this wonderful breakfast, and for the conversation."

She smiled. "It was my pleasure."

She accompanied me to the door. I opened it and looked out upon a clean white landscape of snow and sunlight.

"Rashelle. Do take care ... and come back, OK?"

I smiled and said: "I will, Svenja. Thank you again."

I set off north again, with a spring in my step. I was glad that I had stopped at Thirsk. I felt much refreshed and I felt better about the people there.

With an astonishing rapidity, the clear sunny day turned to clouds, then to snow. I strode on, enjoying the sensation of the cold wind on my face & arms and the sight of the swirling flakes in the air. It was a good day.

After fighting a berserker, my thoughts wandered to the skull that I had been given at the fort. What would the reaction of the Skaal be if I tried to give it to them? I took the skull from my pack and examined it. It was a perfectly ordinary skull. There was no magic in it. There were no markings on it. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other skull: I could have obtained it anywhere. I'd look a right fool trying to give it to them. Yes, I was an Outlander, ignorant in their ways, but to try to pass off a skull as a gift would be an insult: it would show that I did not care enough to bother to learn their ways. A condescending and clueless individual might stroll into their midst and think to placate them with a simple skull ... but not I.

"Whoever you were, skull, I am sorry," I said as I placed the skull on the ground.

I continued on my way.

I was surprised when I found the Skaal village: it had not been as great a distance as I had expected.

The village had been built upon a plateau. There were many houses, constructed of a dark wood, some painted in cheerful bright colors that contrasted nicely against the white of the snow. Nords, some in dark fur robes, others in Nordic mail armor, walked about. They ignored me. Such a reaction did not offend me because this was exactly how it had been when I had first encountered the Ashlander camps.

As with the Ashlanders, I would have to carefully and politely work my way up the chain of command until I was allowed to speak to whoever they thought I should speak to, most likely either a person designated to negotiate with outlanders or the chieftain himself.

Using the logic that the fellows in armor were guards, I approached one of them first.

"Ha! That's hardly proper clothing for this weather, lass." He said.

He continued in a mocking tone: "Are you lost? Did you come here because you're freezing? Or did the big bad beasts bite you?"

"I am quite comfortable, thank you. I enjoy the cold."

He studied me, a perplexed look on his face.

"In this snow, with bare arms, you are not shivering ... not at all. 'Tis very unusual."

"Sera, I come here to ask .... "

He held up his hand. I stopped.

"You are a stranger here."

I gave him points for his powers of observation.

"You need to talk to our chieftain. He is in the Great Hall."

He pointed to a building. It was the largest one there: hence the name. I've never known a village or town to have a Tiny Hall or a Lesser Hall.

The guard continued. "His name is Tharsten Heart-Fang and he will know how to deal with you."

He rudely strode away as just I began to thank him. He wanted to offend me, to provoke me: it was a test. I grinned. This was just as it had been with the Ashlanders.

I approached and entered the Great Hall. The interior reminded me much of the interior of Thirsk. The most striking feature of the Hall was a large stuffed cliff racer that hung from the ceiling.

"Talk to the chieftain," said a guard in the hall before I could say a word. He pointed to a man near the back.

I approached the man and introduced myself.

"You are not of the Skaal. While the Skaal wish you no harm, you do not belong here."

"Chieftain of the Skaal, I come here in search of your wisdom. Yesterday, Fort Frostmoth was attacked by werewolves."

"Those Imperial fetchers. Always causing trouble."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look lass: you outlanders come in, take what you want with no consideration for nature. The land suffers. You throw off the great balance. The All Maker is displeased."

"Do you know anything about those werewolves?"

His face reddened.

"Are you insinuating that the Skaal are behind that werewolf attack?"

I sighed.

"No, muthsera, though some at the fort think so. I only want to ascertain what happened and why it happened and I thought that the Skaal, being more attuned to nature, would have some information."

"I do not know about your werewolves ... but this disturbs me. If werewolves really attacked your fort, where might they attack next? Would they attack us?"

I waited.

"The balance of nature has been disrupted by the Imperial activities. They come and they take the ebony from the ground. They cut down trees and they take and take. What they do not take, they destroy. There is much to atone for."

I frowned. I could not refute this.

He pointed to me.

"We Skaal are closely tied to the bears, to the wolves, to nature. The Imperial activities here have lessoned our power. You must restore the power of the Skaal by performing a ritual which will recharge the natural energies of the Land. The balance will be restored and the All-Maker will be pleased."

"Tell me what to do," I said.

He looked surprised. He had probably expected me to mumble an excuse and leave. While I did not know what this "All Maker" was, I agreed with everything that he had said about the Imperials.

"I deny nothing you are saying," I continued. "While I cannot stop the East Empire Company from establishing the colony at Raven Rock, I have been trying to reduce the amount of damage done. If this ritual furthers that aim, then I will do it."

"Maybe you are not so bad for an outlander, after all. You are different from the others I have encountered."

He paused, thinking.

Finally he spoke: "You should speak to the Shaman, Korst Wind-Eye. His hut is just west of the Great Hall. Tell him I sent you. He will give you more information. Do what he tells you to do."

"Thank you, chieftain."

He nodded and I departed.

I found the shaman in his hut. I introduced myself and then related to him my conversation with the chieftain.

"To restore the power of the Skaal, you must complete the Ritual of The Gifts."

I nodded. And?

"This will restore the Oneness, the balance. The Oneness is the balance and harmony of all things in the world given by the All-Maker. This delicate balance has been upset by the activities of the Imperials. To restore the Oneness will restore the power of the Skaal.

"The ritual of the Gifts involves six standing stones in various locations on the island. For each one, there is a corresponding quest or ritual."

He paused and walked over to a corner of the room and rummaged around. he eventually produced a book and returned. He handed me the book. It was titled "The Story of Aevar Stone-Singer" in Tamrielic. I opened it and was relieved to see that the text was also in Tamrielic: I could read this book. Much to my encouragement, the inside of the cover was a map of Solstheim entitled "Locations of the Stones." On it, each stone was marked. There were six stones: Beast, Earth, Sun, Tree, Water and Wind. I was very happy to see this: so many of my quests had started with only a terse verbal description of the location, with at least one step omitted and often with West and East confused.

"Rashelle. Study this book. You can stay here to read it if you would like. Come to me if you have any questions, then perform the rituals. The fact of you being an outlander should help the ritual. Outlanders caused this problem: it is good magic that an outlander is the one to fix it."

I nodded. I found a spot to sit and began to read.

The book detailed a previous occasion when the balance had been put off. The hunting had been bad and other things were going badly with the Skaal. The main character, though not a warrior, nor of great experience, had volunteered to go to each stone and perform the necessary ritual.

The book was entertaining and, more importantly, had a satisfying amount of detail as to how to go about the ritual for each Stone. Eventually, I closed the book, fairly confident that I now knew how to go about this task.

I bid leave of Korst and Recalled to Raven Rock.

I saw Falco and I approached him.

"Good afternoon Rashelle. How goes the werewolf hunt?"

"Haven't found them, or the captain, yet. I've been visiting the Skaal and I am doing something for them right now. Has anything happened here?"

"There have been no problems. Reinhardt has been a great help. His knowledge of this area has been very useful."

Looking past Falco's shoulder, I saw Reinhardt working on the roof of one of the buildings.

"I'm happy he is working out, Falco. I would hate to have recommended someone who turned out to be a problem."

"No, he's fine. Oh, and I've got Apronia doing odd tasks here and there. Nothing too physical or demanding."

I nodded and smiled. There but for the grace of Azura go I. What had prompted that weak city-bred woman to come to the frontier, anyway?

"What are you doing for the Skaal, if I might ask?"

"It may seem silly to you, but I have been given a quest to essentially purify the land, to magically undo some of the damage that our presence, and that of the Fort, has caused."

"Not silly at all," said Falco, "I don't argue with what works. We don't know everything about Nord magic and Nord gods."

I nodded.

"Rashelle, there is actually one small matter that I could use your help with. I've another decision to make. It is time to build either a trader's outpost or a smithy. I am not sure which will suit the colony better."

The smithy would allow weapons to be made and repaired here, without having to send for them. Then again, most people here on the frontier had already learned basic weapon repair.

A trader could carry a variety of goods, including armor repair tools. It seemed to me that the logical choice was a to build a trader's outpost.

"Falco, Let me think about this a few minutes and talk to some of the men. I'll get back to you shortly."

"Thank you, Rashelle."

I went into the mine and talked to men there. All I spoke to were in favor of the trader. Mining pick axes and tools would be available there. While in the mine, I was pleased to see how much the digging had progressed. The mine was now big enough that someone with a lesser sense of direction could get lost.

I returned to the surface and talked to everyone who was currently awake and outside. Some were in favor of the smithy. Beasts sometimes attacked Raven Rock so they wanted well maintained weapons available.

Apronia wanted a trader because she could then buy "nice things".

I refrained from rolling my eyes and again thanked Azura that I had turned out the way I had.

I then returned to Falco and said: "Trader."

He raised an eyebrow at my verbose and wordy response.

"Are you sure? Once Carnius is contacted to send the personnel over, we cannot change our minds."

"Yup."

"Very well then. Can you inform Carnius of this for me please?"

"I'm on it."

Carnius didn't seem to concerned about my decision. He gave me three hundred gold, however.

"Oh, and Rashelle?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"What's the deal with hiring that native?"

I scowled.

"What do you mean?"

"That Red-Spear chap. He's a savage. When corporate headquarters sent me his new-hire paperwork I almost exploded."

I glared.

"He has knowledge of the area," I said. "This benefits the project. Falco has already remarked upon his performance. He does his job well. What's the problem?"

"You bypassed me!" he shouted as he began pounding his desk. "I am Factor of Raven rock! I am in control! I give the orders around here!"

"Sera," I said as I adjusted the sheath of my claymore, "Answer me this: does Falco have the authority to hire new people?"

"Well yes, but ..."

"Then nothing against company policy has happened, has it?"

He glared. I'd made an enemy. I wasn't worried. I'd done the right thing and that was what was important.

"Go on then. Keep taking your orders from Falco. It just means more for me. Now get out!"

I left.

Falco raised an eyebrow when I related what had just occurred.

"As long as the profits come in, he should leave us alone. Still, we need to be wary."

I then departed from the colony: I had chosen to start with the Earth Stone, as the map in the book had indicated that it was not far from Raven Rock.

I strode northwest, through familiar territory. I had most likely walked past this Stone on more than one occasion without realizing it. This time I kept a lookout for any unusual or larger than normal standing stones.

In an area not covered with snow, atop a small hill, stood the stone. It was larger, yet narrower, than most of the standing stones scattered about the island. As anticipated, I had indeed walked past it previously. The large Nordic rune carved into the side identified it as the Earth stone.

I stood next to the stone and scratched my head. I'm here, now what?

I reached a hand out and touched the stone. Immediately, there was a sort of contact. There was a voice in my head: "Travel northeast to the Cave of the Hidden Music and learn the Song of the Earth."

This agreed with what I had read.

I waited a minute further, hand still on the side of the stone, but there was no more to the message.

I headed northeast.

Two attacking creatures later, I found a Nord barrow. The door to the tomb was spelled shut with spells that I could not break. I traced the runes on the door with my fingers, spelling out the name "Bloodskaal." This was not the place I was looking for.

I fought more creatures and crossed water once on my way. I eventually found what looked like another Nord Tomb. The runes on the door indicated that this was the Cave of the Hidden Music. I opened the door and stepped inside.

I found myself in what appeared to be a normal Nord tomb. Draugr threw themselves at me and I hacked my way through them. I soon found that the barrow was connected to a vast system of caves that took me some time to explore. There were many draugr and other undead and I dispatched them.

There was a decent selection of treasure, most of which I left there. I found some nice weapons and armor but I already had myself well-equipped in the armor department ... and few weapons approached the effectiveness or the beauty of Chrysamere.

A passage led to a deeper system of caves.

As I entered a widening of the passage, lit by some of those Nordic flame-topped stone cones, I began to hear sounds.

I progressed and the sounds became louder. They actually were becoming rather too loud for me but I gritted my teeth and pressed on. The sounds were a form of music, four tones repeated over and over again.

I actually became lost. My sense of direction is normally very good, even underground, but the strange sounding music disoriented me. I had trouble keeping focused.

Eventually, heeding the words of the stone and the book, I decided to follow the music, taking any turning where it seemed to be louder.

I winced as I entered a particularly large chamber. The music there was very loud. The stone of the cave itself shook with the sound: I could feel the vibration in the floor through my feet.

I saw the source of the music. There were three stalactites hanging from the ceiling. From them, in time with the music, shot bursts of steam.

Whatever it is I had to do, I wanted to do it fast: my head already hurt from the music. I watched and saw that the bursts of steam only shot from one stalactite at a time. I then realized that they corresponded to the notes being played. So while it was a four-note pattern, there were only three different pitches.

An impulse made me tap one of the stalagmites. I jumped back several feet when it immediately belched forth a stream of steam and a tone. Now it was clear what to do: I had to tap the lower ones to match the music from the upper ones.

I stood in front of the middle stalagmite, reaching out with my left and right hands to strike the corresponding left and right stalagmites, and using either hand for the center one.

Eventually I stumbled onto the right pattern of notes, playing the correct notes in time with those being played by the cavern. To my relief, the chamber became silent.

I rejoiced in the silence.

To my dismay, the music started up again. I groaned and then realized that it was now playing a second, different pattern. I cursed and then set myself to learning the new pattern. As I had with the first one, I matched the second pattern. The stalactites then returned to the first pattern, but played at a low volume. I imagined that the system of rock, steam and ancient magicka was somehow ... satisfied.

Through the twisty cavern complex I returned to the surface. I strode southwest and in a short time I had reached the Earth Stone. I could see that I had been successful in my endeavor, as the stone was now lit up by blue-green luminescent magic. It resembled bubbles rising from the ground, running up along the sides of the stone, and then disappearing. It was rather pretty.

I smiled and Recalled back to Raven Rock.







This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 24 2007, 03:39 AM

Wow, Rashelle should become a bard!! Or well, er, maybe not. But um... Entertaining read, even if I can't think of anything specific to say.

Hehe, I found the comment after the "Trader" answer quite amusing. It now appears that Rashelle is getting to the meat of things now that Carnius is openly showing his lust for power and the Aevar storyline has begun.

Keep up this entertaining piece of work!

Ahhh wonderful! I´ll have to admit that Serene (ingame) never managed to play those stalagmites! It might be because she was attacked by two of Almalexia´s Hands while trying!

Still I´m utterly fond of Rashie....and I hope she will fulfill her tasks...ah yes she will...of course she will....