No Elves in Sovngarde, I've decided to to turn my "A day in Skyrim" adventure i Options

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Hey y'all! The "Today in Skyrim" thing made mee remember how MUCH I love writing, and how much better it is to not just write shutff and hide it. So the first post is going to be the old "chapters" combined along with the new one I just wrote. Feedback welcome, but remember, no one has seen anything I've written in over 8 years, lol

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Chapter 9: The lair

I have no plan.

I realized this once I reached the balcony overlooking Movarth's "dining room." I could smell the rotten flesh and the thick smell of iron, probably blood. I swallowed the spit and bile that threatened to force its way up my throat. Belly to the floor, I watched to see what they did. I saw no signs of Onmund or Alva, and hoped they were making love somewhere, and not here. I never thought I'd say that.

Movarth feasted on some poor soul's arm, while the other two vampires with him had a foot apiece. I calculated how quickly I could take out the other vampires before Movarth got to me. Before I could make two scenarios in my head, Movarth's head snapped up.

"Ahhh... I smell the familiar scent of prey."

My heart slammed in my chest. I wasn't even moving, how did he find me?! Before I could I could get up and take my punishment, Movarth's voice carried through the cavern. "Is your thirst slaked for now, Alva?"

What what what? Alva came into view, pulling what seemed to be a drunken man. Onmund?! His blonde hair matted against his head and neck, I could see the spot where the "hickey" was from earlier. It looked a lot bigger and a lot redder now.

I could hear the grin in Alva's voice as she slurred "Mmm, yes, magic has a wonderful effect on the senses." She let go of Onmund's arm and he dropped to his knees, then fell on his side. He wasn't drunk, he was dizzy from blood loss.

"You took a little too much again, didn't you? At this rate there won't be any men or women left in Morthal if you keep turning them," Movarth said in a lecturing tone.

Alva sniffed. "I can't help that I enjoy men and women who lie and deceive their spouses over me. This man was easier than Hroggar and Laelette. His elf wife kept him holed up in a house and took him away from a life of adventure. Well, now he's having an adventure," she giggled. Onmund took in a raspy breath.

"Maybe he won't survive long enough to change. It was fun while it lasted."

"You TRAMP!" I jumped off the ground and sent a firebolt towards Alva's head. She dodged it in time, but looked around, panicked, before darting off, leaving Onmund on the floor and me to face Movarth and his men. One met me head on while the other flanked me. Movarth just watched from his chair as I swung wildly at the vampire in front of me. He dodged each slice, whether at his abdomen or neck, legs, or arms, until the one who flanked me kicked my legs out from under me. They laughed as one kneed me in the nose, knocking me onto my side.

Tears stung my eyes as my nose throbbed in horrible pain. I screamed until one kicked my throat. Unable to Shout, I covered my face as they delivered blow after blow, kick after kick and licked their knuckles and fingers clean of my blood. One delivered a particularly powerful kick to a kidney, which made me see stars. Sobbing from the pain, I curled into a protective ball. I heard a sword unsheath and accepted my end.

But the end didn't come. At least not at that time. Someone stepped near my face and after a moment, I looked up through swollen eyes. It was Movarth, looking the same as he did so many years ago. His eyes gleamed coldly as he regarded me.

"What's the matter, don't recognize me?" I rasped, and he smiled what I assumed to be a kind smile. It was like looking at a grinning sabrecat.

"Can't say that I do, pet," he purred, kneeling to the ground. "Tell me, is this your husband over there?" I knew he meant Onmund, as he made no gesture, nor took his eyes off me. I kept silent. I felt oddly sleepy in spite of my pain.

"No answer, then? I suppose you won't mind if I just let Alva have him, then."

"No..." I felt my breath quicken and my heart started pounding on overdrive. I slowly rolled onto my stomach, despite the feeling that I was carrying a water pouch in my stomach I stood up and held Dawnbreaker shakily in one hand and tried to load the right spell. My chest hurt, and I could only take in little breaths before the pain became too much.

Movarth watched and let one side of his mouth turn up in a smile. "So this IS your husband. You must be the neglecting elf Alva has told me about." Movarth looked me up and down. I wavered for a slight second, and Movarth knocked me down with one punch to the cheek. I landed a few feet away and couldn't get back up. I vomited up a mouthful of bright red blood and coughed. I had lost my grip on Dawnbreaker when Movarth had knocked me down, and he bent over to pick it up. The blade's light shined brighter when his hand got near it, and he straightened up.

"Dawnbreaker. A daedric weapon made specifically to fight the undead," he mused. "Tell me, elf, were you anticipating this town being overtaken? Do you have a crusade against the undead?" He pressed his boot against my throat. I whimpered and struggled to breath, and tried to push his foot away. My legs kicked uselessly.

"How many of my undead bretheren have fallen to this sword?" He shouted.

When I didn't answer and continued to attempt to remove his foot from my neck, he pressed harder, effectively cutting off my air. I felt my lungs panic and my eyes opened wide. My mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water. The edges of my vision began to blur, and I felt my eyes drooping as I began to pass out. I had one last line of defense.

I loaded all the will I could tap into and gripped Movarth's robe, fire in hand. His robes caught fire, causing him to jump off me and drop my sword. His robes caught too quickly for him to put them out, and his undead flesh caught fire as well. I used this opportunity to drag myself to his flaming, screaming form and grab Dawnbreaker. He had fallen to his knees and was trying to heal himself right up until I used the rest of my strength to try to bury Dawnbreaker into his heart. It barely broke the skin, but Dawnbreaker got the hint and there was an explosion that incinerated Movarth. I was done.

I couldn't heal. All of my potions were broken, except one cure disease potion that had fallen out of my pack when the vampires began beating me senseless. I belly-crawled to it and dragged myself over to Onmund. He was breathing, still able to make it. If he rested, he would be able to make more blood. I, on the other hand, was not going to make it. And I was alright with that.

I pulled the cork off, which took more time than it should have. The swelling in my belly became more evident and more painful, and I was coughing and vomiting more blood. I poured a small bit on the bite Alva had given him to cleanse it, then lifted the bottle to his lips. He coughed and choked and bodily instinct made him drink. He began to stir. I wilted onto the floor. That was alright. Everything was alright. I was going to die next to Onmund, and he would live. And that was fine.

"Kayla?" I barely registered Onmund's voice. I smiled regardless. He was awake. He was cured, and would be alright. I was ready to go to the Colored Rooms of Meridia's realm. No Sovngarde for me, but that was alright too. I was tired of fighting. I felt a liquid go down my throat, but knew it was too late. I heard voices and the sound of chaos, firebolts being hurled, and death screams. Someone shook me and sobbed while they held me. They rocked back and forth and kissed my face.

And then that was it.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jan 9 2013, 12:06 AM