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]

The buxom widow

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 31st of Last Seed 3€433

As Loypuur slowly opened his eyes, he once again noticed someone standing close to the bed. As he opened them a little more, he saw… Azzan! ‘Oops, no time to sleep anymore’ he thought, quickly stood up and got dressed. There was no time to waste as his plan for today was to look for Bjalfi the Contemptible in nearby Fort Strand.

As he was approaching the old fort, Loypuur noticed that there wasn’t much of a fort left apart from some ruined towers. But he didn’t have a lot of time to study the fort because he was ‘greeted’ by an aggressive Dunmer swordswoman.

“Good morning! I’m here to look for Bjalfi…”
*Dark Elf swings with a sword, Loypuur jumps back*
“Calm down now! As I said, I have some business with Bja…”
*Dark Elf swings once again and hits Loypuur*

“Well if you insist!” Loypuur got angry, readied his silver axe and after one powerful strike the Dark Elf was dealt with. As she fell to the ground, he suddenly felt a piercing pain striking his left arm. He was just hit by an arrow! He noticed a Bosmer archer inside the fort courtyard that was getting ready for another shot. Loypuur had barely enough time to jump to side and hide behind the stony wall. While Bosmer was quick and agile and Loypuur was just the opposite in his heavy armor, he had difficulties catching the Bosmer archer who was successfully running away from him. In the end, Loypuur cornered the Bosmer at a nearby rock and finished him off.

‘Now that was a kind welcome! I suspect that all residents of Fort Strand are the same.’
And he was correct. But this time Loypuur was ready and he didn’t even try to talk some sense into marauders’ heads. He didn’t hesitate when attacking… and marauders, whether they were Wood Elves, Nords, Argonians or his race fell one by one. He found an iron cuirass and a helmet on some shelves and decided to replace it for his rusty one. Of course Loypuur could just take the full set of iron armor from numerous slain marauders but he didn’t feel like taking from the dead. Besides, most of cuirasses wouldn’t fit him either, because they were crafted for smaller people and Loypuur was very tall. Eventually he came across the Nord wearing a better armor than the others – steel greaves and boots. But Loypuur also noticed that this Nord was carrying an unusual looking mace at his belt. ‘Must be Bjalfi the Contemptible. Let’s hope I can talk some sense into his thick head.’

But it was in vain – as soon as Loypuur initiated a conversation, the Nord attacked but he turned out not be particularly tough opponent and Loypuur finished him with a few swings. “May you find peace which you couldn’t find on this world, Bjalfi” said Loypuur as he was standing next to the dead Nord. ‘I just made one woman out there a widow…’ and the feeling wasn’t exactly great but then again, he had no choice. He picked up the mace on which initials of Maeva and Bjalfi were engraved and decided to return to Whitmond farm.

On his way out he became careless and he stepped on a pressure plate that activated a swinging mace which heavily hit Loypuur in the back. Luckily his newly acquired iron cuirass eased the blow but his back will probably hurt for a few days. On his way to Whitmond he opened a bottle of cold beer that he found in a chest and was slowly drinking it, not only to ease the pain but to feel a bit better because he never killed so many people at once. Although all of them deserved it, Loypuur wasn’t used to killing and he wasn’t sure how Maeva will react to the news about husband’s death.

As it turned out, she was happy to see her mace returned and didn’t really care much about her husband. She ‘dedicated’ him a few ‘touchy’ words but obviously didn’t have any intention to take care of the funeral or see her husband for one last time. Her reaction surprised Loypuur as he was sure that Maeva will be at least a little sadder but in the end he didn’t know what their relationship was like in the beginning. ‘Guess they didn’t love each other from the start.’

Sun was slowly setting as he arrived to Anvil and after he performed some repairs at Morvayn’s Peacemakers and purchased new iron boots, he headed for The Flowing Bowl to have a late dinner. He was not in a good mood, the scenes of killing marauders were still too vivid in his mind and he bought a bottle of cheap wine to relax a little. Not even Isolde could improve his mood and after a dinner he headed to Lelles’ store to sell some old and buy some new stuff. He sold rusty iron greaves and purchased tan linens. His current battle outfit consists of complete set of iron armor except for tan linens which Loypuur prefers over greaves. Since he didn’t feel like heading to Guild yet although he should probably rest because his back pain was getting more intense, he instead headed for a short walk east of Anvil.

There he discovered a unique standing stone, definitely one of numerous about which he read about in The New Doomstones series from Quill-Weave. He decided his fate to be led by The Lady and gained a lesser power, which boosted his endurance and willpower when casted. ‘Could be helpful for the Arena.’ He made a short walk to a nearby shrine and found out that it belongs to Mara. After a short prayer Loypuur decided to return to the Guild. He was feeling a bit better when walking to the town, perhaps a gift from The Lady and a prayer to Mara helped. It was already the 1st of Heartfire as he came to Anvil and apart from a few guards and a sailor the town was empty and silent. And silent was the Fighters Guild as well since most of the members were already sleeping. And while Loypuur was exhausted and had heavy back pain, he still had enough strength to check, who the beauty in blue velvet outfit sleeping in a bed beside his was. ‘Ah, it’s that Dunmer. Forgot her name, starts with L… Llensi… Llernsi… Llansi… Lllll….’ Too tired to think about her name, Loypuur fell asleep in a second.

This post has been edited by Lopov: Mar 27 2013, 03:25 PM