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]

this cannot be, the bloodmoon falls and the prey still lives... you have defeated my aspect but I will return mortal, The bloodmoon will rise again and my hounds will walk the lands let this world enjoy its brief restment for hircine will hunt again.

After all those years and that voice still sent a shiver down my spine.
Memories flowed thickly through my mind of the forests of solstheim, of the spirit bear dying with a cry, of thick bushy brown hair erupting from my screaming shaking body.

No,

some things are better left forgotten.

In a way Ravenrock was like me. When it began in Morrowind it had promise and in a way it may have lived up to its promises, but still age and life had worn it down.

What was once a small but booming imperial settlement was now a small city, no, a city implies growth and production and Ravenrock had none of that, with small wooden huts built upon land that did not belong to its owners.

It was an awful day, with a cold drizzle that had made its way from the sea to this little spot in the world. It wasn’t raining but then again it wasn’t really dry either, the air was damp and just walking through it soaked your skin.

Walking quietly through Ravenrock’s streets it was easy to see how much it changed since I last arrived, the muddy streets squelched beneath my feet and a guard passed me, his armour a mix between Redoran bonemold and Imperial chain, neither of course could stop the water and it clung to his bald wheezing head as he walked past.

Families wrapped in rags were dipped beneath the ruins of abandoned huts that had their roofs collapsed but seemed not to care, as if the four thin walls were enough of a home as they could get.

There was a young dunmer girl who was sitting in a doorway, her gray hair was greasy and soaking and ran down her gaunt cheeks as she stared at me with hollow eyes.

I smiled and reached into my purse to give her something but her pale red eyes saw the movement and with a shriek she ran; the possible danger lurking through her mind, her bare feet slapping against the wet floor, leaving a small trail of blood behind that quickly vanished beneath the sodden earth.

A part of me wanted to run after her, to give her some coins and tell her it was ok, look after her and take her off the street.

But as the minutes walking passed I saw more children, more families squatted near buildings in a vain effort to escape the weather and the fevers it might bring. But Lock had sent me to find someone, Sk’rivva, and helping the resistance that fought against the enemy was more important than helping the people who suffered.

What a fool I was back then.

Within nearly an hour of walking through these streets the exit was in sight and my heart leapt at it, any reason to get away from there I suppose.

But it was here that I finally noticed the plight of the people in Solstheim. He was an argonian, wrapped in rough brown robes he was lying near a large fir tree that loomed just outside of town.

As I approached the exit I spotted a guard out of the corner of my eye who
began walking towards the stranger.

“So, how are you liking the weather lizard?” the guard said, his sarcastic sneer of a voice booming across the walls around me.
The argonian didn’t reply and simply shook his head, burying it between his knees and shaking.

To this day I don’t know if it was from fear or cold.

“Well it’s funny” the guard continued. “But you argonians don’t like this cold weather that much does ya? You be liken them swamps and ditches and mud eh?”
He leaned closer to the argonian, his bonemold armoured hand wrapped around the argonians shoulder. “So why are you here eh? What’s your game?”

The argonians muttered something, although from the distance it sounded more like a sob.
I kept walking toward them, I could see the guard properly now.
He was a dunmer, Redoran’s symbol cut into his bonemold armour but there was no trace of honour in this dunmer’s eyes.
“You see” he whispered softly.

“I don’t like it when you snakes are wandering through our towns, pushin innocent famblies out of their homes, stealing from us...spying on us.. is that why you’re here slithers? You be spyin?”

The argonian kept silent, his thin scaly arms wrapped around his knees while he slowly rocked himself back and forth like either a madman or a baby, the sound of his sobs rolling through me.

The dunmer was unimpressed “ANSWER ME!” he roared, drawing his longsword and smacking the argonian the butt of his sword.

That broke the argonians position as he tumbled into the mud; his hood fell back and revealed his face.
I stopped, the argonian was old, very old... scales that had once been fiery red had dimmed with his years, dulled with the pain and sagged now beneath his ancient eyes.

It made me stop, but I cannot say the same for the guard.

“ANSWER ME YOU SLIMY USELESS THIEVING PIECE OF...!” the guard roared, fury laced in his face as he continued to beat the old argonian, his cries drowned by the guard’s screaming.

It didn’t last long. The first thing the guard must have felt was the ball of fire hitting his chest, the cuirass boiling over his skin.

Then he must have felt the power of paralysis lace his body, forcing his muscles shut and his eyes closed.

Finally he would have felt his sword leaving his hand, the dull clatter of it ringing against the road. With a smile I stood up from the guards gibbering body and turned to the argonian who was still sitting waist deep in mud.

The argonian looked at me for a moment shock still lined his face, should he thank me or should he be afraid, a man who could take down a guard by himself would be far more dangerous than anyone else in this town.

With a smile I dropped my purse onto his lap, the dull ringing of what drakes I had left filling up the midnight air.

I didn’t need it anymore.

With a sigh I turned and began to walk out away from Ravenrock, away from the argonian, away from the girl with hollow eyes.

Sk’rivva and the Skaal were waiting.