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]

~I'm glad you are all liking the story so far :]

I'm sorry about the mix up Remko, I'll be more clear next time. Here's the next piece of Furan's tale, enjoy



Nights are strange in Solstheim. Too much cold I think, so much frost that not even the suns rays want to for much longer then they need be.
Three days had passed since Ravenrock, three days with a tense chill that refused to budge as I moved my legs, three days of navigating past thick bundles of trees and past snowstorms so strong that I half feared that they would rip the flesh from my bones, and then turn my remains to white.
The corprus 'gift' that I was tainted with for so long staved off the illness but I could still feel it creeping against me, waiting to seep into my creaking bones.

Last time I made the trip I was young, I had youth, real youth instead of the mask that only elves wore. There was a fire in my heart back then, my ignorant mind convinced that I was the Nerevarine. That I was practically a god...

Another snowstorm began to pick up, I help my chapped hands together and made my way slowly near a rustle of trees, I only thought about two things during my first trip.

Worry for the captain who was kidnapped, fear for the unknown skaal who loomed in these foreign lands. And then of Abigail, my wife of little more then a few months, yes we married scant days after the battle against Dagoth,

I imagined her thin pale face, that lovely brown hair which was cut short that spiked up when it was wet. Small hands and the small bump of a child.

I stopped.

A child.

a small cold frown tugged at my lips as I began to move again towards the dying storm. Had it really been so long since those days?
those horrible, horrible days...

The camp of Urshilaku held the evening mist like a cloak that night. It was the seventh of Evening Star so the babe would be born during the darkest month of the year, during the sign of the Thief.

The Thief

I almost laughed at that. The very occupation that brought me to Morrowind in the first place would be the guide for my sons life.
Ralen we would call him, its an old name and with a strong destiny, hope.
After the trials of both Dagoth Ur and of the Bloodmoon, Morrowind needed its hope. More then ever.


Nearby a deer saw me and stood still, it's brown eyes held toward me in strong fear. My stomach rumbled and my nose turned in disgust, for myself, for what could have been.

Inside the hut was Sul-Matuul, wisest man I knew, from outside I could hear his hoarse voice mutter prayers and incantations while mixing salves and herbs that almost made my stomach turn.

With a growl the old Ashlander told me to get out.

With a chuckle I remembered when he first predicted the baby, which shocked Abigail just as much as me. Offspring from a human and an elf were very rare. And dangerous. Sul did not mention the last part, instead let it hang into the air like a noose around our necks.

I took a deep breath and began to wander around, It was here that I my journey as the Nerevarine truly began, it is here that Ralen's life will begin as well.

I smiled to myself. I'm about to become a father...

Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, beneath the thick back sky I continued to walk, the sun would probably rise soon and I wanted to make my way to the Skaal village before sun set.
Snow cropped around my body, the small hairs on my face freezing into a dense white, making me look older then I am, almost as old as I feel.

I took a moment to look up, allowing my finger to trace the invisible lines that were weaved between the stars that a wise old man once told me showed our destinies. A wise old man who let an empire crumble to dust.

The Mage,
The Apprentice,
Atronach,
Tower,

Thief.

My smile faded.

I suppose you could say that my thoughts shattered with the silence, my eyes widened. There was nothing, Abigail's crying had ceased, Sul-Matuul's prayers had died. I stood there for a moment, terror wrapped around my every breath.

But then Abigail started to cry again, but it wasn't a cry of pain.

One of sorrow.

No....

Memories are a funny thing, you always seem to remember the blade, the part that hurts you the most. I can barely remember the feast we had to celebrate the babies conception, I can't even remember what I was doing before we arrived at the camp.

I just remember shock gripping to my throat, forcing my way into the hut, with Abigail screaming and holding a small bundle of cloth that was stained with blood, with no movement or a whisper coming from it.
I just remember Sul-Matuul beside me, shaking his head as tears stained his ancient cheeks.
whispering the words that would send my world crashing down.

'I'm sorry, we did all we could....'

yes, memories are funny like that.

"is this why I left?" I murmered, my back into the snow, the ice burned my back but I did not care, I half hoped for the earth to open up, to swallow me along with my mistakes.

"it wasn't because I needed adventure....or because Morrowind didn't need me anymore. I was a coward!" I screamed, hitting the cold hard ground beneath me with a balled up fist that just made me hurt more.

"Coward...." I murmered, the tears freezing slowly as they went down the sides of my face while my eyes closing, exhaustion finally kicking in.

The darkness did not come soon enough.

This post has been edited by Fiach: Jun 14 2010, 09:04 PM