Adventures of young High Elf Options

[Lopov]

Hello everyone,

this is my first attempt at writing in fan fiction. I've been regularly posting updates on Beth forums but since I recently started a new character, I decided to share his stories here. He's a High Elf and everything else of importance will be revealed through his stories. I'm playing dead-is-dead which means no reloading under any circumstance - if he dies, his adventures are over. English is not my first language, so there will definitely be some grammar mistakes but at least in the first short story most of them are intentional.

The Introduction

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 27th of Last Seed 3€433…

On 27th of Last Seed 3€433 an old ship sailed into Anvil docks. A few Redguard sailors had jumped overboard, tied the ship up and began unloading a cargo. The merchant ship was called ‘Child of Ra Gada’ and it belonged to captain Amut (known simply as The Capt’n), sailing between Hammerfell, Summerset Isles and Cyrodiil. But this time it was besides the cargo ‘transpouting’ someone else.

Firsthold, Summerset Isles, a week before…

“Nou,” said The Capt’n, a little angry because young High Elf obviously didn’t hear him the first time. “We’re nout transpoutin’ people, ye know, jest cargoo…”

“I’d really like to get to Anvil as soon as possible. I can pay you, of course,” quickly answered young red-haired High Elf. The Capt’n was all ears!

“Paaay me? Hmmmm… lemme fink nou… ther’ might be sam place fer ya, young oun… but it depends – hou mouch are ye willing too paaay?”

“Will hundred septims do?”

“A hoondred, ye say… hmmm… mrmmm… ufhm…”

“Two hundred?”

“Twoo… like twoo… hmmm…. that’s bett’r, young oun… but… hrmmm…”

“Three hundred then. My last offer.”

“Free hundred, young oun?! Ye’ve got yeself a deal, young oun! Junp aboard, we’re leeving soon…”
The Capt’n couldn’t know that a ‘young oun’ would be prepared to pay much more than three hundred septims just to get away from The Summerset Isles but luckily, that was not necessary. He jumped on ‘Child of Ra Gada’ and after a few minutes the ship sailed from the docks and headed for Cyrodiil. As High Elf was standing on the stern and watching his homeland disappearing in the distance, he felt heavy burden being lifted from his shoulders.

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 27th of Last Seed 3€433…

While sailors were unloading the cargo, young High Elf handed a small pouch to The Capt'n. In the last week he got quite attached to the funny captain, his accent and the sailors - they were a merry bunch, particularly compared to his family.

“Thank ye, kind oun! And don’t get yo’self kill’d in the cap’tal, ye knou…”

“I’ll do my best. Thank you and… happy sails!” Having said that, a young High Elf left ‘Child of Ra Gada’. Immediately after he left, first mate Smoush approached The Capt’n.

“Take a good look at him, Capt’n, because that’s the last time you see this young man.”

“Ay knou, Smoush… poor kid, hi’ll get hisself kill’d in a matt’r of days… aye, a pity, hi looooks nice and well-mann’d. ”

“Indeed, Capt’n. But he must be as mad as the hatter! He hopes to succeed in the Arena! The A-r-e-n-a! Have you ever heard of a High Elf who survived the Arena? The A-r-e-n-a?!”

“Stoup spellin’ on mee, I get ye’… I couoldn’t belief heem when hi said that hi’s goin’ to the Arena. Imag’ne, a High Elf… I tould heem hi was bo’n t’be a mage, magus, whateveh… but hi j’st smiled and car’lessly waved hees hant… bout hi wasn’t a snobby one leyk most of them ar’!”

“Yes, he seemed down-to-earth. Aye, aye, poor kid…”

“Pour indeeyd…”

“Yay, yay…”

“That’s enoughg! I’ll sta't creyin’ if I jest fink abaut heem a littl’ lounger… let’s unload th’t cargoo, th’n we’re leevin’…”

“Yes, Capt’n!”

And while ‘Child of Ra Gada’ was sailing from Anvil, young High Elf was still standing on the pier… admiring the sunny sky, people chattering and strange yet amazing architecture of a town called Anvil. He felt a stunning relief, being far away from the Summerset Isles… and his family.

A little insecure because of the new land but cheerful at the same time, Loypuur headed down the pier.

[Lopov]

First steps

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 27th of Last Seed 3€433

Loypuur didn't feel especially self-confident while walking down the pier. While relieved to be far away from his homeland, he also felt alone. But that was not necessarily a bad thing, after all at least in Cyrodiil nobody knew him. For the first time in his life, he wasn't wearing exquisite robes and shiny shoes. He wasn't used to his new haircut as he was never allowed to have so short hair before. Before departing Summerset Isles, Loypuur changed his appearance as much as possible. He cut his long upswept hair and threw fancy robes through the window of his tower so they disappeared in the heavy seas below. Then he 'borrowed' a common green wool shirt from servant's quarters and equipped rusty armor that he had been hiding in his room... an armor that was given to him by his mentor many years ago.

It was practically useless by now but it was a disguise good enough to leave heavily guarded estate of his father. He was afraid that his height might reveal his identity but luckily the guard on duty didn't pay special attention to him.

As his thoughts were shifting from past to present, he noticed a woman painting not far away. Loypuur came closer and stood behind her. After admiring her creation which was obviously the lighthouse in the background, he decided to initiate a conversation.

“Nice painting.”

Astia Inventus turned around in a surprise – it’s been a long time since somebody commented on her drawings. A tall High Elf with very short vividly red hair and boyish face was standing behind her and looking at the picture. Astia immediately introduced herself and told him about her husband Pinarus and Anvil being quite lovely town if one doesn’t mind scruffy and smelly sailors. Loypuur didn't know if that's habit in Cyrodiil that people introduce to each other immediately but he kindly introduced himself in return and told her that he hails from Summerset Isles. After a short chat about latest rumors, Astia continued with her hobby and High Elf continued his walk through Anvil. He hasn't seen a similar town before and it seemed very warm and welcoming. His father would definitely call it shabby and dirty and that was for Loypuur another reason to like it.

He had a brief chat with Newheim the Portly - the harbormaster, afterwards he asked a friendly guard about the services in Anvil and tried a little flirting with Isolde but she wasn’t particularly interested in him and didn’t want to be his guide through the town – Loypuur ascribed her decline to his non-manly look. He later greeted a young Bosmer that was gardening behind her house, admired the statue of Dibella and her luxuriant curves… [ahem]… and chatted with Dumania Jirich, a primate of Dibella who told him that she was chosen as a primate because of her loving nature and striking looks. While Loypuur found that middle-aged blonde Imperial attractive, he preferred exotic ones like afore-mentioned Isolde for instance.

After a short visit to the castle courtyard, Loypuur returned to the town and made a day for Penniless Olvus, but not by giving him a coin… no, it was because Loypuur asked for his name. Olvus was surprised at first and thought that he didn’t hear it right but High Elf repeated his question. “Olvus… Penniless Olvus… that’s me.” High Elf smiled, introduced himself as Loypuur and then continued his walk. Olvus was speechless – he didn’t remember when a stranger asked for his name and then even told him his own in return! And a High Elf, can you imagine? Olvus didn’t know many High Elves but most of them were snobby and haughty and didn’t even take a look at him!

Loypuur paid a short visit to the chapel of Dibella, he had hoped to see Dumania again, perhaps she could share some Dibellian advice… but when he saw beautiful glass carvings of the Divines, he forgot about Dumania. He took a good look at each of them, particularly the Talos’ one. As unusual as it sounds, Loypuur the High Elf worshipped Talos. Thinking back, he didn’t know whether he did it to oppose his family or was he really interested in The Ninth Divine, but in time he became accustomed to it and it suited his lifestyle. Compared to his siblings and most of his race, Loypuur was never interested in magic and except knowing some alternating and restoring spells, he didn’t have the slightest idea about the other schools.

Sun was slowly setting as Loypuur entered The Count’s Arms, rented a room with ‘an excellent view of the city’ as promised by the innkeeper, dropped off his rusty mace, shield and gauntlets and returned downstairs for a supper. After some chatting with Wilbur and S’shani who told him that ‘this one’ was once a captain, High Elf went upstairs to his room and after reading the news about the Emperor’s assassination, he went to bed. He couldn’t sleep because of the excitement and… relief.

There was no need to pretend anymore. No need to play a role that he despised. No need to wear the finest clothes and socialize with the stupid nobility of Summerset Isles. Now he could wear a wool shirt, rusty armor and talk to commoners, even beggars. If his father saw him doing that, he would renounce him. What he probably already did after he had found a farewell letter. But Loypuur felt much better in Cyrodiil as he had in his homeland.

Much better.

This post has been edited by Lopov: Mar 24 2013, 04:12 PM