Listen To THe Sound Of The Ashlands, Chapter 1->The Return Options

[Fiach]

Note: This is my first bit of serious fan-fiction, so please be patient with me xD
I would really appreciate it if whoever reads this give me their opinion on the story, as well as any ways that I can improve, which is something that I'm very passionate about.
But without any delay, let's begin.

Prologue

“So you’re planning to go through with it?” Sul-Matuul asked.

“Yes”

The old Ashlander sighed, his hand moving slowly against his withered face.
For a moment I began to pity the old mer. Age had paled his dark skin to the point that it was nearly like that of a imperial, his red eyes turning blank with his years.

He was sitting near the centre of his yurt, his body in its squatted form somewhat resembling an old flower. But he still held his staff proudly, and carried his head high with grace. Well at least he did before I entered his yurt this cold Last seed morning.

“I would like you to reconsider” Sul-Matuul said. With a groan I sat down beside him, my fingers playing with the dusty floor. “I don’t think I can this time my friend” I whispered, “I’ve been here for nearly 5 years, I’ve done a lot here but Morrowind....it just doesn’t need me anymore..”

Sul-Matuul slammed his fist against the ground, but I tried not to flinch, “don’t be foolish Lord Nerevarine” he growled, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “You have so much more to do here, Morrowind is your home, and it’s where you’re destined to be!”

Sadly, I shook my head. “Everything will be ok Sul, I mean with you, Vivec....”
“Vivec is a traitor and a fool” He spat, “He should have had the decency to kill himself the day the others fell.”
I shook my head and rose from the ground. “He has the best interests of Morrowind in mind Sul.” I whispered. “The boat to Akavir will be leaving tomorrow... I have to be on my way.”
“Nerevarine!” Sul-Matuul growled, “Morrowind needs you, please don’t abandon her.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but then I noticed droplets of water against the dusty floor. The old mer was crying.

My courage failed and without another word, I turned around and opened up the small yurt skin door, into the world beyond.
As I travelled along the coastline I began to feel the thud of my heartbeat against my throat, a feeling that had escaped me for so long, Excitement and adventure.
I suppose I should tell you a little of myself before I begin my true story, although most of it I’m sure you already know.

My real name is Furan Saris, and I was born in Highrock, according to the local priests there, my mother was an ashlander who fled morrowind, but since she died when I was born, I guess I can’t really be sure. I was taken in by the local chapel of the nine divines, an experience that thankfully, I’ll never go through again. I learned to read and write, but at the cost of my dignity. I was trapped there, at least until he came to see me.
A man arrived at our village one foggy morning, he was a mage, but one that was not connected to any of the local guilds. It was safe to say that he caused a bit of a commotion in the town. He used his magic to entertain, summoning ponies and warriors that arrived in a plume of fire, his mana stirring and creating wonders before my very eyes. I spent days begging him to take me on as an apprentice, as a means to escape this life. The old man, who saw my mana levels agreed.

We left, I learned what I needed to learn, but after less than 4 years my master caught a chill and died. Magic stopped being an idle fancy and more of a means to survive, I was skilled at illusion and acrobatics, which helped me pilfer items from some of highrocks finest. But one night I tried to steal from a mage and I was caught.
Beginning my journey to Morrowind, which started the story every dunmer child grows up learning, the tale of the battle of the red mountain.

To foreigners of our shores this is where the story of the Nerevarine ends, the oblivion crisis set in and people forgot about the land of the dunmer people.
But I think that it is time that I continued the story.

The story of when the Nerevarine returned.

This post has been edited by Fiach: Feb 26 2010, 11:14 PM

[Black Hand]

I hate giving constructive criticisms as Ive never been 'trained' or taken any classes on writing, so I'll just say what I can say.

I'm loving this so far, and the story has a great deal of potential to unfold into an epic tale, if you are up to the challenge Irish. Yeah, I know what Eire means....

[Fiach]

I hate giving constructive criticisms as Ive never been 'trained' or taken any classes on writing, so I'll just say what I can say.

I'm loving this so far, and the story has a great deal of potential to unfold into an epic tale, if you are up to the challenge Irish. Yeah, I know what Eire means....

~A comment from the exalted creator of Sethyas Valus, now I guess have no choice but to deliver this "epic tale" also its great that the name of my homeland has gotten around... so lets begin~
Chapter 1 The Return

They have taken you from the imperials cities prison, first by carriage and now by boat, to the east, to Morrowind. Fear not for I am watchful... you have been chosen.
The images return to me again, a sea of fire, with strange letters surrounding me, consuming me, drowning me, the last words are readable and they bring a chill to my spine.
Many fall, but one remains.

My eyes snap open, I wait there for a moment, I wait for Jiub to come up to me, I wait for the old dark elf to ask if I was ok... If I was... Then the future comes back to me again like a huge wave on the shore. I get up, I’m not wearing sack cloth clothes like last time, just a pair of leather greaves with 3 throwing daggers strapped to my chest, also I’m in my own room with its own bed, instead of just a night on the floor. But the rocking of a boat beneath my feet, the throbbing of my head and the confusion remain the same as I stared at the shadows that hung around the edges of my cabin, I couldn’t even be bothered to light a candle.

Slowly the door opens with a crack and a scaly head pokes through the gap. “I heard screaming” it whispered in broken cyrodilic, I shook my head with a smile, “It’s nothing Haeil...” I muttered, my hands rubbing against my eyes. Haeil chuckled and came in with a push of the door.

Haeil is a Tsaesci, one of the fabled snake people of Akavir. He stood just under 3 meters tall, covered in thousands of purple and red scales, he had no legs, just one large spiraling tail and there was no armor whatsoever on his body, as was the akaviri custom, but he held a massive dai-katana on his back which more than made up for it in combat. He chuckled at me with a pair of golden eyes and stared at my bed.

“I bet it was nothing” he said with a wheeze. “But are you sure that you aren’t hiding a lady friend from the crew under your bed?” He smiled and I laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that friend, it was just…nothing really.” Haeil grunted to show he didn’t believe me, but he let the matter drop. “Well it’s time to get up then Furan” He sniffed, “We have another fine day of sailing ahead of us...”
I nodded and pulled on a loose sack cloth shirt before following Haeil out of my cabin.

There are certain moments in your life that you really make you appreciate it for what it’s worth. My time on this ship was easily one of those times, imagine being surrounded by endless water, theres a shadowy purple in the middle of the night but when dawn breaks through, light shatters through the horizon bringing the sea to a rich tropical blue.

As I walked along the deck some people stopped working for a moment to give me a small nod. It was pretty sad actually, we left morrowind all those years ago with about 92 people.
41 dunmer, 29 imperials, 6 argonians, 7 nords and 9 bretons.
But the months on the sea as well as the danger of the continent were harsh to us, out the 92 that left only 4 dunmer and a single nord survived. But Akavir was a strange place. Within weeks of landing on its shores we found entire camps of people who descended from tamrielic armies that were once sent to conquer parts of the continent in the name of the Septim family.

We have about 41 crew members now out of 50, a mix of akaviri natives and some of the tamrielic people who wished to see the land of their ancestors.
When we reached the top of the deck I smiled and took hold of the stern, the steering wheel of the ship. I could feel the waves through the wood of the stern as my mind plunged into my memories.

“Boy…BOY!” I stop rubbing my head for a minute to look up. Before me is an elderly imperial, with a thick white beard and cold hard eyes. “Eh...sorry, I have a bit of a headache…” I whispered, squinting my eyes a little to see if it would help. “That’s not his problem” a nearby guard growled, waving his sword toward me. The imperial nodded as he looked at me, his nose curled as if he had just smelled something foul. “Now the letter that preceded you mentioned that you were born under a certain sign… and what would that b…”
A wave crashed against the hull of the ship, bringing me back. “Be careful Fur” chuckled Haeil softly, “I’m pretty sure that half the people on this ship can’t even swim.”

“Neither can you” shouted one of the other sailors, an imperial who had his arms wrapped around the mast.
Haeil shrugged, “I don’t have any legs, what do you expect?” Some of the crew laughed at this but I just pushed the stern silently beneath my fingers, “So we’ll be in Tamriel waters in about a week?” Haeil nodded, I smiled to myself. “I wonder how much has changed...”

This post has been edited by Fiach: Feb 28 2010, 04:55 PM