Seven, An Aela & Ungarion Prequel Options

[SubRosa]

The inspiration for this story came to me last week. As will probably be evident to many, this is an homage to the masterpiece by Akira Kurosawa. It is my humble attempt to translate that great story to the Elder Scrolls Universe. Following the old adage of striking while the iron is hot, I decided to put the TF on hold while I write this instead. Once I am done, I will get back to the TF, and wrap it up with one more chapter.

This is also a prequel, taking place eight years before the events of the TF, shortly after Aela and Ungarion graduated from the Arcane University.


Seven

Prologue

25th Second Seed, 3E425

Vishta-Zaw slithered through the mud with ease. In fact, he had to take care not to move too quickly, lest he overtake Dark-Eye. The other Naga would look upon that as a challenge for leadership of the company. A challenge that Vishta-Zaw was not ready to make, yet. For while his one-eyed leader's age was beginning to show in the fading color of his once dark green scales, his killing power had not subsided. The way he had dealt with the hackwing the day before had made that clear...

Soon the land began to rise, and the mud turned to drier, hard-packed dirt. That made the going slower for the pack of Nagas. Where folk with two legs had an easy time on such ground, it was more difficult for his race to propel themselves upon their serpentine lower halves. Unlike ordinary snakes, they had a torso, head, and arms to balance aloft above their thick tails. It was much easier moving through the swamp's water and muck, where their tails could whip them forward at speed. Yet still they managed without complaint. The latter was a sign of weakness, and weakness was not tolerated in Dark-Eye's company.

In time they topped a ridge and Dark-Eye came to a halt. Vishta-Zaw slithered up beside his leader and followed his one-eyed gaze down into the valley below. Stretched out there in the small, oval-shaped bowl of land stood the settlement of Agrigento, a collection of simple timber and reed homes raised up on stilts in the traditional Argonian fashion. At the center of the village rose a tall structure of the Imperial style. It's walls were entirely of stone, pierced by numerous windows filled in with hinged glass panes, and topped by a roof of glazed red tiles. A fence of simple woven reeds bordered the settlement, and beyond that water-logged rice paddies stretched in all directions. Dykes of hard-packed dirt spread out in a grid through the fields, dividing them up into numerous flooded squares.

Imperials, they just loved to impose their straight lines, squares, and rectangles upon everything. They seemed to think that their geometry would somehow bring them closer to the gods. Any Naga could have told them that nothing on Nirn was straight and neat. All their efforts did was separate them from nature. The Naga wizard knew that would only doom them to extinction. It was only a matter of time.

His eyes fell upon the Imperials laboring in the rice paddies. They went barefoot through the water, wearing simple dark tunics and conical reed hats to ward off the sun. Alongside them toiled their tamed Argonians. Once the Saxhleel had been a strong, proud people, Vishta-Zaw mused. But like so many of them now, these had abandoned the ancient ways of the deep swamp, and now what had they become? They were little more than slaves for the smoothskins. The Naga race would never fall so low.

"They are bringing in their crop," Dark-Eye observed. "Good, I grow thirsty."

"It will take them time to dry and husk the rice," Vishta-Zaw leaned against his staff, which was tipped with a large chunk of flame-red crystal. "Then they will need more time to brew their soju."

"To brew our soju," the chieftain corrected him. The side of his head that faced the wizard was gouged with deep scars leading through the ruin of his eye socket, which was covered with a jeweled eye-patch.

Dark-Eye turned to level his remaining indigo eye upon his lieutenant, and then the gang of other Nagas behind them. "We will give them six weeks," he cried. "Then we will return to wet our throats, and have some sport!"

That brought a chorus of assenting hisses from the other bandits. Some banged their spears against the rims of the small, bone shields. Others simply stabbed their weapons skyward in expectation of the revelry.

* * *

Hathei held his breath until the Nagas had gone. Even then he still waited, just in case any of them returned, or were still lurking in the shadows of the trees. Magnus crawled through the sky, and several lesser creatures crawled across the Argonian's washed out yellow-brown scales. Still he waited, not moving an inch, in the way that only his race could do.

Finally Hathei rose up from his belly and stood straight. His gaze darted through the trees that lined the top of the ridge, seeking anything out of place. Yet there came no hisses or croaks of discovery, no spears came flying out to pierce his scales, and no magicka crackled to snuff out his life.

The aging Argonian was thankful for the bundle of reeds that was slung over his back. If not for them, surely the Nagas would have seen him. He had been lying on his stomach, just inches from their bellies, with only the camouflage of those reeds between him and certain death. Now that bundle of reeds slowed him down as he turned and ran for the village below. He was tempted to throw them aside so that he might run faster. But he knew he would only have to return for them later. At his age, he did not have the energy to do the same thing twice. So he labored on, as farmers always do.

His mind whirled as he made his way down the slope of the valley to the settlement below. They were coming back, again! They would take all of the soju, just like the last time, and the time before. Worse, the Nagas might take another of the women again, just as they had Rullianus' wife. What had been left of her after they had finished would have made a butcher sick. Who would they take next? His own daughter Meen-Sa?

No, not Meen-Sa. He could not let that happen to her. They had to do something this time. They just had to.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 5 2019, 11:00 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Someone caught my Braveheart reference!

Every time I hear that Khajiit song I think "Likes to sleep", thanks to my own Alfiq.

I think it is safe to say that Ungarion has indeed bought into the cause of the Agrigentans. Given his flair for the dramatic, how can Ungarion resist fighting the good fight, against impossible odds?


haute ecole rider: When I was working on the kensai's race, Redguard just naturally rose to the top of the list given their reputation as warriors, and especially their race's ancient power of creating the spirit sword. But that is not to say that Nashira can actually create one. That is just what some people say. Like the lightning bolts from the rear end, it might be a good idea to take that with a grain of salt.


Darkness Eternal: There really is no Aela Fic. Until now at least. She appears in the Teresa fic as a supporting character in several chapters. Her first sighting was during the Tournament of Archers, but that was so brief that I do not think she even had any dialogue. She had a big spotlight in The Witch of Bawnwatch Island, and then finally reappeared again as a member of Methredhel's Eleven in the most recent chapter of the TF.

I have really enjoyed writing the characters in this story. They are a lot of fun, especially Aela and Ungarion when they are together. Do'Sakhar and Ungarion are also a treat to write. I actually got the 'butter elf' term from the Bethesda forum, where it seems to be pretty popular.


ghastley: Yay, someone did the assigned homework! You get an A. We will be seeing another one of Aela's old/new gang turning up this episode. In fact, anyone who wants to do more homework can find her in the Battle of Bruma chapter of the TF.


ThatSkyrimGuy: I have a cat too, so Ungarion's feline-centric jibes come very easily!

I am amazed at the similarities between Bravil and Whiterun too! Who would have guessed that Whiterun was built by Bravilians. Nashira is indeed a tough cookie. The most deadly member of the Seven in fact. She is in a completely different league from everyone else.


King Coin: The Imperial lost the stick duel. It was all just too fast for Aela to tell who really won. She might know a little bit about longswording from being around sword fighters for years, but at the end of the day she is a mage, and she is not used to watching movements that fast.

That is not to say that Nashira was diplomatic about it. She could certainly have just shrugged her shoulders and walked away. She did not have to rub the guys loss into his face. But that is the kind of person Nashira is, blunt to the point of it being goading.

That scene was actually taken directly from the Seven Samurai, right down to the stances and attacks by each. Which is really interesting, because those are two of the standard stances of Medieval longswording. So either Akira Kurosawa was a guru of Western longswording in the 1950's (long before longswording had been rediscovered in the West by recreationists), or Japanese sword fighting mirrors Western, at least in some respects. I expect the latter, since you face the same issues in attack and defense no matter where you are.


mALX: At 3am! That is a long movie to be watching at that time of night. Did you make it through without falling asleep? I do not think I could have stayed awake.


Grits: One of the reasons I put the TF on hiatus for a little while was because writing A&U together is so much fun! Like you said, that history and affection they share really makes them a joy to write.

I would love some of those piada's too! I found them in a list of ancient Roman food, so decided to throw them in. Now I need to find a place around here that makes them!


Previously On Seven: Our last episode saw the gang attempting to recruit Nashira - a Redguard swordswoman who is reputed to be one of the finest sword-fighters in the world. Before they could speak to her, they had a demonstration of her skill. She fought an Imperial in a duel in the street, first with only sticks, but then it escalated to using real swords. She killed him in a second's time. Before we went to answer the City Guard's questions about it, Ungarion did have the chance to ask her to join. She turned him down, saying that she was only interested in perfecting her skill.


Chapter 1.4

"Trump, and rubber," Ungarion crowed as he laid down his last card upon the table. Rullianus and Hathei groaned as they stared at the cards in the pot.

Stalks-The-Marshes grinned at Ungarion, revealing a mouth full of fangs. "Perhaps these ones should play some of the others in here for coin. They might earn enough to hire an entire legion before nightfall."

"Or get those one's throats slit," Do'Sakhar observed from his seat beside Aela. "Many in a place such as this take offense at losing."

"Yes, that is the problem with gambling for a living." Ungarion shocked Aela by actually agreeing with the Khajiit. "The better you are at it, the more likely you will need to be a good fighter. Rather defeats the purpose of trying to make a living without killing people."

The opened front door caught Aela's eye, as did the unusual sight that walked through it. The newcomer was an Altmer clad in the armor of her people: a panoply of amber mail overlaid with golden bands shaped like slender leaves. A strung Valenwood bow was stored in the gorytos at her hip, and the amber-hued hilt of an elven greatsword rose from over one of her shoulders.

Her hair was spun gold, and pulled back into a Daggerfall braid: a single plait beginning at the crown of her head and falling down below her shoulder-blades. Aela had always loved that look, along with the Wayrest braids: the two plaits that framed the face and ran back to join together in a single braid at the nape of the neck.

The high elf took a moment to casually slide her long, slender fingers across her locks, as if to smooth them out. Yet not a single hair from her long mane was out of place. Aela wished that she could make her hair look like that, let alone stay that way, and wondered how the other woman accomplished such an amazing feat?

The newcomer stood in the doorway and scanned the crowd. Then her eyes met Aela's. She stared for a moment, then the Breton recognized the look of discovery upon the elf's face. The Altmer had seen through her female presentation. But rather than sneering, or laughing, the elf's features seemed to glow with reverence.

The new arrival strode purposely across the room to the pair of corner tables where their group sat. The others looked up as she approached, and Ungarion set down the deck of cards before him. The archer ignored them all however, and remained focused upon Aela.

The Breton Witch felt the magic resonating within the elf's gear as she stepped near. To start with, she could tell that her composite bow was named Sercedin, or 'The Silencer Of Blood' in the Imperial tongue. Thanks to her experience with magical gear, Aela knew that its enchantment would cause harm to any living thing, not through elemental energies, but rather in the opposite manner of how healing magic would repair damage to living flesh.

The Valenwood bow was just the beginning however. The Altmer's armor was named Belthele, 'Strong Sister', and was enchanted to not only protect her wearer from all forms of elemental harm, but also to increase her strength. Finally her greatsword proclaimed itself as Canrais, or 'Sunder', and Aela could feel that its magic was woven to shatter any armor that it came against.

Aela glanced over to Ungarion. He nodded back at her. Clearly the other mage had sensed the same power in the elf's gear that she had. If that magic were not enough, the newcomer had the hard set to her frame, the swagger in her walk, and the flinty look in her golden eyes that said she was a killer.

"My name is Seridwe," the high elf declared. "I am told you are looking for fighters?"

"What makes you think that?" Ungarion raised his fingers into a steeple before his chin.

"Daenlin told me, at the Archer's Paradox," the archer said. Seridwe paused to glance at Ungarion, then turned back to Aela. "He said two mages - an Altmer and a Breton - were looking for extra hands on a long term contract."

"We are," Aela admitted. She was beginning to find the tall woman's gaze more than a little strange. What was Seridwe so intrigued by, in herself of all people?

"Then I shall join," Seridwe declared. "When do we begin?"

"This one is eager!" Do'Sakhar exclaimed. "Don't you even want to know what the opposition is, or the pay?"

"It doesn't matter," Seridwe said. "If an ardhanari is involved, I know it's going to be extraordinary."

"An ardha-what?" Rullianus scrunched his eyebrows in consternation.

"It's an elvish-" Ulpia began, only to be cut off by Aela.

"I haven't heard your name before," she said to Seridwe. "What sort of experience do you have?"

"I've been doing this for about a decade in Illiac Bay," she said. "I've fought Orisimer, Redguards, Bretons, and everything else under Magnus. I've been up and down the Wrothgarians, crossed the Alik'r Desert, seen the walking trees of Valenwood, and trod the badlands of Anequina. I came to Cyrodiil only recently, with a friend of mine. Right now I could use a job. The biggest fight I have had in the last week has been against my hair."

"Well, this one seems to have won that battle!" Do'Sakhar laughed.

Aela looked to Ungarion and nodded.

The elven wizard raised four of his fingers in affirmation."That makes four of us then."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 19 2013, 10:19 PM