A Question of Fate Options

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Brief Intro By The Author

A Question of Fate would be the title of my piece.

I have been back and forth about trying to start and post a fan fic piece. The idea has always intrigued me, but I never considered myself to be a writer, let alone a good writer. I have read a sampling of some of the works that are posted on this site, and quite frankly, it is intimidating. The material is amazing. I must say say that despite the intimidation, it is also inspiring. So I am willing to throw caution to the wind and go for it. There are a few provisos. I work for a living. Often times, the hours I work are long. There may be periods of dormancy in this thread. I will apologize in advance for that. Life outside the internet does have it's restrictions. Also, I am sure that there is an unspoken etiquette that states, "You read mine and comment, and I shall do the same". This is also where I could run into trouble, for the same reasons that there may be dormant periods in this thread. There are stories on this site that I could never hope to read all the way through, with triple digit page counts, while I try to keep posting my own story and work through everyday life. So, with all that being said, I will wait to start posting chapters until I get a sense of what the audience demands. Please let me know if I should start posting a fan fic piece, based on what you have just read.

Thanks.

EDIT - This was originally posted in "General Discussion"

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 4 2013, 04:41 AM

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

It's time for the weekend installment, but first...

@ Acadian - You were absolutely correct with your nit. Thanks for pointing it out, and I used your suggestion of the word "testimony" to correct it. That word fit perfect with the word "contradicted" later in the sentance.

Ellinar, eh?
Am I missing something?

Thanks as well for your comments and compliments. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

@ SubRosa - I do agree with you 100% about changing whatever I see fit with regard to actual game mechanics, and you will encounter this in a future post. As a matter of fact, it concerns using the Command Animal ability, so I'm killing two birds with one stone on that one.

Very good guess on the "shelf" being Val's mom.

Regarding {The} Imperial City, I left out "The" on purpose. Imperial City is how the name is shown on the map as the actual name of the city, and one would not say or write The Oklahoma City or The New York City. Using "the" only works if I am describing the city rather than naming it.

As always, thanks for the compliments and comments

@ McBadgere - Thanks for the applause. As to three weeks becoming a lifetime...well...a lifetime is a very long time, so we'll see...

Thanks again for reading and commenting. Very much appreciated.

Previously... So after giving you all a glimpse into Valrimor's beginnings, it's time to get back to the story. Ralof and Valrimor had fought their way through Imperials, spiders, and a bear to finally reach the exit from underneath Helgen Keep, where Valrimor had collapsed to his back and was laughing at the sky...

Chapter 6 – Free of Pursuit

17th Last Seed, 4E201 - Continued

Ralof must have thought I had lost my acorns. I couldn’t help myself. Cramped spaces like tunnels and caves are no place for a Bosmer, especially a claustrophobic one. Add one part of seeing the dragon fly away to two parts lack of pursuit, and then three parts wine; it was the perfect recipe for relief filled laughter. I sat up and caught the Nord staring at me with a worrisome look.

“I’m okay. I’m just glad to be in open space and not worrying about what might be around the next corner,” I told him.

“I can appreciate that, Valrimor, but-”

“Call me Val,” I interjected, “everyone else does. Well, everyone that has known me and remained a friend despite knowing me.”

“Val it shall be then, friend,” Ralof said with a grin, but then became serious again and added, “we need to get moving. While we are currently not being pursued, this area will likely be crawling with Imperials before the sun sets. We are close to Riverwood, and my sister lives there. I’m sure she will help us with a hot meal and a place to rest.”

“Does she have any of that great Skyrim mead that I have heard so much about?” I queried thirstily.

“I’m sure her husband, Hod, has a bottle or three lying around.”

“Well what are we waiting for then?” I said, jumping up and staggering just a smidge while adjusting the backpack, “Let’s get going!”

We started following a pathway that led from the cave. Here at the base of the snow line, scattered patches of snow would occasionally crunch beneath our feet. There were birds chirping, and the wind was sighing through the evergreens. The trees were tall and majestic, like great spruce sentinels guarding the mountainsides. As we walked further down the slope, the forest floor became more verdant, changing from scrub oaks and thorny brush to ferns, grasses, and wildflowers. Closer examination revealed an assortment of fungi and flora suitable for alchemical purposes. This was good to know, but I wouldn’t be doing any harvesting at the moment. Getting to Riverwood for shelter and more libations had top priority.

As we walked, Ralof had been trying to convince me to join the Stormcloak rebellion. I did hate the Thalmor, and therefore by proxy, General Tullius and his troops. However, I chose to remain non-committal. That seemed to be my natural state of existence, non-committal. I had never married nor had children. I never settled into a steady trade or planted roots with a home of my own. It seemed my entire adult life had been an exercise in finding my next source of coin to care for my mother, finding my next drink, or finding my way out of some sort of trouble. Now I had found my way here, to find some sort of meaning to my life.

When we reached the pathway’s terminus at a rough stone roadway, I noticed a large ruin in the distance. It was near the summit of a peak, on the other side of a narrow valley.

“What is that place?” I asked Ralof.

“That is Bleak Falls Barrow. I never understood how my sister could live in the shadow of that place. I guess one just gets used to it after a while,” he replied.

“Why is that? I mean, what bothers you about it?”

“It has ever had naught but evil associated with it. It’s said to be haunted by draugr,” the Nord explained.

I nodded and didn’t question him further. It was enough to know that the place should probably be avoided. We walked on in silence for a bit. Now and again, I would catch a glimpse of a circling hawk, or hear the rustle of a small animal scurrying through the undergrowth. These were like therapeutic balms to my Bosmer senses. The road had become steeper when we reached a sharp switchback, allowing the roadway to hug the mountainside. When we turned the corner, a magnificent vista appeared before us. There was a lake nestled within the valley. A river was draining it and sending the contents northward toward us. On a rocky promontory overlooking the lake were three stone monoliths. When we reached them, Ralof stopped.

“These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen that dot Skyrim’s landscape. See for yourself…” he said, gesturing toward the paved platform they rested on.

I stepped on to the large circular dais and examined the stones. Each had a different design cut into the rock they were made from. Two seemed more weathered than the third. I asked Ralof about this.

“It is said that the stones choose you," the Nord explained, "In some way, it will connect with your spirit. It is imbued with an ancient power. None today completely understand it. The one you see most clearly is the one that is trying to connect with you.”

It showed a hooded man in a crouching pose, and holding a pouch and dagger. As I moved closer, the symbol seemed to become even clearer and more detailed. Gemstones, like stars, began to shine within the etching. I reached out with both hands and touched the sides of the stone. Instantly, beneficent power surged through me. I could see an aquamarine glow shimmering around me. Then just as suddenly, a shaft of teal colored light shot toward the heavens. I felt, rather than heard, a “pop” and it was over. When I released my grip on the stone, all three monoliths appeared equally weathered.

“Thief, eh?” said Ralof, “It’s never too late to take charge of your own fate.”

How does one take charge of fate? It seemed that I had been shoved around by fate my entire life.

“Let’s get moving. I’m getting thirsty,” I said and continued down the road.

The road was following the river northward along the eastern bank. The water wasn’t babbling like the creek in the cave. It was having a full blown argument with the intervening rocks along the way. Now and again, spray found its way to the road on a gust of wind. Ralof was telling me a little more about his sister and Riverwood to pass the time when he was interrupted by the howl of a wolf. We both froze and searched for the source. I saw them, two of them, on a rise ahead of us and to the right. I touched Ralof on the shoulder and motioned for him to stay put. This was my forte. I nocked an arrow and crept silently through the undergrowth at the side of the road for as long as I dared. The wine had worn off, or perhaps it was the effect of the Guardian Stone. Either way, my aim was steady and true. I released the bowstring, nocked another arrow, and had sent it on its way to the second wolf by the time the first one was falling. Both wolves were quickly down and motionless.

“Impressive bow work!” said Ralof.

“Thanks. Let’s get them cleaned.”

The Nord protested, saying we were so close to town now that it would be a shame to stop.

“When a hunter kills, the quarry must be properly cleaned and the carcass disposed of, at least whenever it is practical to do so. It is the Huntsman’s Creed. Right now, it is practical. You can help, or watch, or continue on your way, but these wolves are getting cleaned,” I stated in a tone that would brook no argument.

The Nord did indeed help. Some unfortunate woman must have met up with one of the wolves. There were no human remains in its belly, but there was a silver ring with a garnet stone. Ralof wondered why I would even bother opening the stomach. There was a simple explanation, which I conveyed to him.

“I once witnessed a wolf attack. A whole pack descended on a couple having a romantic walk in the woods. Due to some…uh…local circumstances…I wasn’t able to help them. And there were lots of wolves!” I explained, on my knees as I skinned a wolf, “But I digress. The woman had been wearing some stunning jewelry. When I examined the corpses, it was obvious that her finery had become part of the wolf’s main course. Ever since then, when I kill a wolf, I check for jewelry. You would be surprised how many rooms and ales I have found in wolf guts.”

The Nord just looked at me for a moment, then shook his head and went back to work. When we finished cleaning the animals, I asked Ralof where the river led and he told me northward to a series of falls. That was perfect. I tossed the carcasses and entrails into the river, knowing that if they weren’t devoured by mudcrabs first, the falls would reduce them to fish food. After rinsing the wolf blood from my hands, the task was completed and we set of again for Riverwood.