Listen To The Sound Of The Ashlands, Chapter 2-> Lock Options

[Fiach]

~ Time to start Chapter 2, as always, feel free to comment and give your opinions on the story so far ~
Chapter 1-> The Return


Chapter Two-> Lock


The wind was merciless that night as it lashed against the thick walls of Vivec, Abigail looked down at the waters below.
She enjoyed the view from up here, it helped her forget everything. The hardships, the battles lost and the people that abandoned her.
There was knock on the door. Abigail smiled to herself. Not this again…

“Come in” she sighed, the door opening with a shallow creak. “Roderick, Fathis…what do you want?”
The dunmer and redguard behind her both turned a bright red, she didn’t even have to turn around. “Our men caught some travellers up north, we were wondering if…”

“Are they spies?” Abigail cut Roderick short, making his blushing redguard face darken even more.

“Eh…no, we don’t think so miss”

“Are they Fugitives?”

“We...we don’t think so…”

Abigail turned around, her eyes fiery. “Then why are you wasting my time?” she growled. Roderick paused, speechless. Less than a decade ago they were in Suran, drinking, dancing and having fun.
But the last ten years did a lot to Abigail, at nineteen she was still a girl with a pretty face and mischief in her eyes.
But she had grown since then; her face now was beautiful, ladylike. Her emerald eyes were hardened from seeing her friends die and her voice was like tempered steel.

Once she wore dresses and loose fitting leather armour, now she was dressed in the attire that once belonged to an Ordinator, with a purple sash tied around her forehead to keep her lush brown hair out of her eyes.

Fathis smiled softly, “We are pretty low on men Abigail” he said slowly, “They could come in pretty useful…One of them is a Tsaesci.”
“A Tsaesci?” Abigail whispered, interest showing in her eyes for the briefest moment. “Whatever” she murmured, giving a shrug before pointing at the door. Fathis and Roderick gave a bow and left the room slowly.

Roderick took a deep breath, “I hate it when she gets like that!” he wheezed. Fathis nodded in agreement. “Lock should have come with us… he knows how to talk to her.”
“I don’t think she’s waiting for Lock.” Fathis whispered
“What do you mean? oh”

When I finally woke up my body was sore, my feet and hands were numb and there was a warm, coppery taste in my mouth. Blood. “Just perfect” I muttered as I looked around. I was lying on a wooden stretcher with a sheet pulled tightly over the frame, the room around me was windowless but dozens of shelves lined the walls, each one filled with vials and potion bottles.

“You took quite a beating my friend” muttered a wheezy voice.
“Haeil?”
The Tsaesci stood up from a chair that was dipped in the shadows at the edge of the room.
“You were talking in your sleep… sounded like a nightmare.”
I shrugged.

“I can’t really remember”
Haeil smiled, “It was probably the medication…these guys have been pumping you with the stuff”
“These guys?” I asked
Haeil laughed, “The resistance Furan…. I’m a member of it now”
I looked at him strangely, “When did all this happen?”

“You've been unconcious Furan...for a week. When they tried to capture us I ended up beheading a couple of their men…it seems that the people here are just as blood thirsty as they are back home.” His laughter rang across the stone room. Before I could open my mouth to ask something else the door opened and someone walked in.

She was a Bosmer, dressed in the blue robes of a mage; her hands were filled with dozens of pale grey scrolls. With a sigh she placed them on the table in front of her and looked at Haeil.
“Is he doing ok?”
“Of course Madeline…don’t you trust me?” The mage--Madeline gave a grunt before turning to look at me.

Madeline looked very young for a mage, no more then thirty; her copper red hair was tied back into a ponytail revealing a pair of slender pointed ears. She had a light smile on her face but there was intelligence in her eyes as she scanned my arms and face, her gold pointed fingers checked my pulse and bruises.

“I’ve been in Morrowind for nearly 9 years and I never saw injuries like the ones you had ...” She said. Her sharp blue eyes were flicking from me to the book that was in her hands.
“9 years…” she sighed, “I swear to Akatosh if I ever see that swit Traven again, I’ll make him wish that he avoided magic as a child!”
“Whos’ Traven?” I asked
Madeline looked at me, “He’s the Arch-mage of Cyrodiil or at least he was when I left….”

She put on a high pitched voice, like what little girls did when they insulted someone. “Go to Morrowind Madeline the guild needs your leader ship there, it’ll be an adventure, think of all the spells you will learn…” She spat on the ground, “But noooo, one year I’m in Balmora and then I’m being harassed by argonians for being a witch. A WITCH! Can you believe it?”

“It happens a lot, just agree with her and we’ll be fine” Haeil whispered softly. I nodded with a smile.
Madeline gave a sigh and wrote some thing down in her book. “I think it’s time that you went down to Lock” she said, gesturing toward the door.

Haeil nodded and pulled me out of bed. “Where are we going?” I whimpered, the cold air nipping at my feet.

“To see Lock.”

“Who’s Lock?”

Haeil looked at me with a smile, “Oh, you are going to love this.”

This post has been edited by Fiach: Mar 30 2010, 03:08 PM

[Fiach]

Wow I cant beleve I havent updated in nearly two weeks
it's incredible what can happen when you break the writers curb and its even more incredible how hard it is to get back into it
So I'm going to finish off this bit before going to bed and then work a bit harder from now on
sorry for those of you (if any) that missed the updates, but I'll try to write some good pieces to make up for it

There’s a funny thing about memories, some will never leave you and others will vanish but it is often the ones you need the most that quickly turn to dust. I suppose during those days so much was happening it was just easier to forget about the fear, the death and worries.

One thing I would never forget was the tomb itself. Nearly a decade of abandonment had brought a thick blanket of dust along the jar filled shelves.

The horrible faces carved on the jars that jealously held the ashes that once made up that same face were nearly all the same beneath that dusty grey smirk. Teinaava drew his blade, a scaly finger dancing along the edge coolly while I stood there trying to stop my legs from shaking.

I recognized the blade in his hands, after all who could forget that rich black blade with the purple edges that glew by the means of magic long lost to this world.

“Umbra?” I muttered but the answer to my question came to me as a blow instead of words with the roar of the shadow-scale as he swept along the rows with his eyes glowing madly.

There was no mistaking it, it was a claymore when I held it last but time seemed to have changed the blade, forcing it to be in the command of a man’s single hand.

Giving a short sigh I dropped my scabbard, the blade giving a mournful ring against the stone. Steel wouldn’t do much against a weapon that would suck the very heat from a room, I needed to find another way out and then I needed to deal with Roderick, he knew who I was and that was too dangerous to be floating around.

“I’m a little disappointed” Teinaava sighed, resting his palm against the tombs thick stone walls.

“I had heard stories of you Ser Nerevar, people said that you couldn’t be killed...that you slayed dozens of men twice your height with a single slash of your sword. They said you would be worthy of my steel.”
Teinavaa’s smile fell sullenly, like a child who was sent to bed too early.

“But...I suppose it will have to do...”
“But why are you here?” I croaked softly, looking at him with all the hate in my eyes.
“Why would you invade Morrowind, we have done nothing by you!”
Teinavva laughed his blade returning to it’s sheath and tears came to his sullen eyes

“You...haha you have done nothing? Hah, then tell me ser Nerevar why is it that fathers, mothers and children were pulled from our homeland?
Why is it that they are condemned to shackles while you roam free, why is it that you force us out of our homes and treat us like slime and then you claim nothing?”

Teinaava roared and drew Umbra again.
“This is your peoples own fault, and it is a justice that your people deserve.”
The argonian spat into the ground and moved toward me, hissing softly as I looked up along the jar filled walls.
Jars..

I gave the argonian a smile, placing my hand on the wall beside me, allowing the hungry ashes to absorb my magicka.

“What...what are you doing?” Teinaava growled, but his eyes were alight with fear,
“Stop that....”

Nodding I began to laugh, the minute my hand left the ashes hell broke loose.

Ashes swarmed around the shadowscale,his snarled throat screaming as the spirits of my ancestors rushed down his throat and cut against his skin with a speed that I had never seen in a ghost before.

I ran to the body of the fallen dunmer nearby and sighed, grasping the amulet around his neck and allowing myself to be pulled through the vacuum of violet light.