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

[Fiach]

~well, its the easter holidays now so hopefully I'll get more written during the next 2 weeks I'm off

hope you guys enjoy it. and thanks a lot to haute and everybody else who took the time to review and point out any mistakes so far , hopefull this will have better flow~

I’m walking through the undergrowth, tree branches brushing past my limbs like the demented claws of a madman.
My guide is ahead of me, a Tsaesci who moved shakily through the wilds as if he feared every shadow beneath him.

I tried my best to ignore it though; the jungles had enough dangers without adding imaginary ones to the mix.

A squat blue spotted fly fluttered lazily around us beneath the harsh sun, it was the length of my arm and covered with what seemed to be dozens of fiery red eyes.
With the finesse of an acrobat the fly landed on a pale grey leaf the size of a dinner plate.

I blinked and the fly was gone… replaced by a sliver of green blood as the leaf curled around the bug that squealed as if it was burning in the very plains of oblivi-

“The tomb is not much farther,” my guide hissed, nodding toward a group of bushes a few meters away. I smiled; thankful of the distraction.
The coins jingled lazily in my coin purse as we travelled, making sure that my guide remembered why he was so far away from home.
The Tsaesci stopped for a moment… from the way his shoulders were angled I knew it was a defensive position, his tail curled so that he was low down on the ground. I squinted over him to have a look at what was past the trees ahead before feeling my breath catch in my throat.

The natives called it the Zwinga-mallu, the stone demon and it lived up to its name. 20 feet tall, it held itself up with four stubby legs that stuck out like pillars, lazy green eyes scanning over the trees that it towered. 3 horns were scattered on the massive beasts head that was covered in thousands of plates the shape of sea-shells that were the size of a daedric cuirass. The natives claimed that not even pure steel could penetrate it, which made them it valuable.

Moving closer to us, it looked at the Tsaesci with hunger in its eyes, a slack mouth that hung open in a way that mouths generally should not be.

The Tsaesci took a deep breath.

Drew its sword.

And ran.

The Zwinga-mallu seemed unfazed as it stared at me instead, looking curiously at my ashen skin in such a way that I could tell that it was wondering how I tasted behind it. Running my tongue over my teeth I extended my hands, magicka summoned to my fingertips with a whisper and into the air in front of me with a thought.

Flames extended along the creature hungrily before evaporating almost instantly. I could feel the surprise on my face, but the creature’s curiousity had left it, replaced by a fiery rage that consumed its piggy little eyes.

Then I ran.

Past the trees and through the long grass that stained the simple boots that were tied to my feet I could feel the ground tremble beneath me as I kept running. come on…come on!

My legs were getting tired but I willed them faster, rocks, bushes…more trees…

My lung were burning now, the ground approached me like an old friend as my body hit against it with a solid thump. I turned around in surprise… the beast was on the ground panting heavily….

There was a Tsaesci in front of it; a deep white light that had to be calming magic ran from his fingertips along the creatures back. With a smile he turned to me but by then I was practically….

__________

“How strange.. I must say I’ve never seen anything like him…”

“Do you think it’s really…him?”

I opened my eyes carefully to a blurred hut… there was two Tsaesci woman beside me, dressed in the blood red robes of a healer, there was also another Tsaesci there, with his back against the wall he looked at me with a smile.

“Sisters…leave us” he muttered with a hiss. The healers gave a short bow and left, their tails dragging softly behind them.

“I found you in the jungle?” he hissed in broken cyrodiilic, “Do you have a name?”

“Furan Saris…pleased to meet you” I smiled, replying in perfect Tsaesci, the creature looked at me in surprise before giving me a wide grin.

“Likewise stranger….only a great fool or a great warrior would battle such a monster… and either way you have my friendship. You may call me Haeilgraforath Ko Bazamorfidhack…. or if you prefer, simply Haeil.”

With a grin I pushed myself out of bed.

________
Entering Haeil’s hut, I noticed just how much larger it was compared to the others in the village, swords of all kinds lined the walls, some of them I recognized but most of them I couldn’t even imagine would work correctly in a humans 5 fingered hands.

Haeil entered the main room in the centre of the hut with a smile on his face, a little Tsaesci girl was by the fire,but began moving quickly beside him when she saw us, her blue scaled gleaming as Haeil picked her up and gave up a hug.

“How is my little Wanobe today” he whispered softly, gesturing for me to go to the large fire that was burning in the middle of the hut.
Wanobe looked at her father with a toothy smile and pointed out toward the window, “I climbed that big Yesmet tree that’s near the river!”
Haeil laughed,
“Really? I didn’t know you were so brave!”

Wanobe puffed her chest out with courage

“I wasn’t scared, you can even teach me how to fight now” She looked up at him hopefully,

“We’ll talk about it after dinner” he laughed giving me a wink from across the fire as another Tsaesci with red scales brought some raw meat to the fire, she looked at him with gentle eyes, looking at me with a smile.

“You are the outlander…yes?” I nodded softly and with a chuckle she pushed a small mound of roasted meat near me.

Haeil raised a small glass cup “To Ser-Furan, the warrior who fought with the Tang-mo and stopped the red dragon!” he gestured toward the many braids that ran along my thick black hair.
“I heard the stories from traders...” he added when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

I opened my mouth to say something but I was interrupted by a scream, the kind of sound that rips through your spirit like a cold knife, leaving only the fresh sting of silence in its wake.

Haeil pulled a katana from above the doorframe and nodded at me to follow him.
____________

Outside, near the middle of the village I saw an old Tsaesci woman who I remembered was one of the healers who cared for me less then an hour ago.
She was holding a dagger in her hand, her eyes awake with a demonic fury that followed us as we looked at her with horror.

“For Lord Dagon!” she roared before pushing the dagger into her chest, her body vanishing in a plume of blood red light.

Unless you’ve seen an oblivion gate for yourself it’s impossible to truly describe it, The gate is shaped like an upside down U with a blood red sky hanging overhead, there’s also a silence that surrounds it, the kind of silence that you hear when you know that you are going to die and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

We paused for only a moment, pausing often is the thing that kills most soldiers on the battlefield. Drawing my Tang-mo tanto I followed Haeil through the portal, and into the savage paradise beyond.


The Sigil Tower was a tribute to destruction, made of scrap metal it towered above an island surrounded by lava, blood sweeping down from its walls as a crimson waterfall that never seemed to end.

“You….will…not…get…my…Wanobe!” he roared!
Haeil’s eyes were wild, intense as he swung his blade around, steel meeting dremora skulls with sickening crunch.
Exhaustion painted his face but he didn’t seem to care, as more and more demonic blood covered him like paint.

Light glowed from above as I clutched the large stone in front of me, magic soared in my body and the world collapsed from beneath my feet.

I laughed when I hit Nirn’s ground again, the fresh untainted air filling my lungs, my eyes were closed but I hung a smile on my face. I hadn’t fought like that in years; challenges like this were so hard to come by…. “WE DID IT HAEIL! WE WON!”

I was answered by a sob.

My eyes opened softly to see the village around us in ruins, Haeil was in front of me and hunched over, crying at whatever it was that he held in his arms.

“No” I muttered as I stood up.

It was Wanobe.

It was his daughter.

I gasped a mouthful of cold air, Akavir vanished from my mind and was replaced by Morrowinds thick salty air. Haeil was shaking me, sitting above me with his tired golden eyes.
“We’re here” he whispered. nodding toward the side of the boat.

This post has been edited by Fiach: Mar 27 2010, 10:01 PM