No Elves in Sovangarde Revamped, The way it was meant to be written. Options

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Hey, y'all. something that has really slowed me down on my writing was the evolution of my writing style. The second book of NEIS was sort of gritty, and the first half lighthearted and so...very...cluttered. so, instead of going back and editing what was already written, I've decided to go ahead and put the edited version in a new thread. Kayla's back story was cluttered and undefined for a lot of the story, and I've thought long and hard about how I want this to go. Luckily samara's story is still early, and is going nearly the way I want it, so the changes there won't be huge.

Go ahead and read, if you'd like. It's the same story, just written differently and a few plot changes. Some of the chapters won't change much, but some won't look familiar at all.

First, though, I'd like to thank everyone for encouraging me who aren't here, mALX and Colonel Mustard and Black Hand namely. Then DE and King of Beasts for encouraging me to write the story to please myself instead of those on the site. And then, of course, those who have kept reading from the beginning, and SubRosa for encouraging me to be more organized in my writing (lol)

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PROLOGUE


Dusk brought the chill of the night winds, the sky lighting up in a medley of colors; blues and greens, purples and pinks. Above the ribbons of the borealis, stars twinkled like eyes, blinking sleepily at the vision of men and mer far below them. The sun set with a silent sigh and slid away to warm other parts of Nirn.

A gangly elf maiden trembled in the thin ceremonial cottons as the wind whipped the fabric around her body roughly. She struggled to keep her auburn hair out of her face and mouth, spitting the strands out and tossing her head to and fro. She shifted the luminous sphere in her hands, careful to not drop it and anger the Daedric Prince she was appealing to.

A Dunmer woman, looking to be in her twenties, gave her a hard look.

"Don't tarry, child. Meridia may look favorably upon us mortals, but she does not have the patience for the slow-witted. Step forward."

The Almer maiden, barely out of childhood and on the cusp of womanhood, nodded to her mentor. The Khajiit male put a paw on the Dunmer's shoulder.

"Gentleness, Nedine. she is but a child."

"She is to become Champion to our Daedra! You're too lax on her, Ma'dat."

"Perhaps, but this one is not fond of the tone you speak to her with. Go on, child," he said in a gentler tone to the elven maiden. "Present yourself to Meridia. You have earned it."

The elven maiden took a step towards the shrine and looked up at the towering visage before her. Meridia was depicted as a cowled woman with her arms raised, and robe drawn up as if she had wings. The sphere in her own hands would go between the upraised palms. It shone bright with each step she took, until she was upon the statue. The sphere was warm, and glittered with an internal light the reached into her chest and warmed it with an unidentifiable desire. She longed to please this deadra, to reuninite the sphere with its owner, to bring light to the world, but...

The sphere was yanked from her hands as she held it out, and a light brightened up the nearby areas with a white hot light. She felt the light fill her, and she felt airy, weightless. She opened her eyes and saw she was hundreds of feet above the earth, nearly in the stars that twinkled around her. Her white linens floated around her, and her hair splayed out behind her as if she were submerged in water. She did not breathe in, but she did not choke, nor did she feel the need to panic. She simply was.

A sword was put into her hand, and a promise she didn't fully understand was made. To preach the gospel of a faceless daedra using a sword that, once back on Nirn, she would most likely not be able to lift on her own. She suddenly cried out and gripped the back of her neck as a searing hot pain wracked her head. And suddenly she was on the cold, hard ground of Skyrim, whimpering. she had the blade of the sword between her thighs, hugging it, the white linens stained with her own blood where her flesh clutched the sword. She was pulled upwards, by mortal hands this time, and congratulated, though she barely heard the words. Her neck still stung.

"Ma'dat," She whimpered, her hand traveling to her neck. "My neck!"

"Hold, little one," the Khajiit man said, gently moving her hair from her neck. He hissed in disapproval.

"The Lady has seen fit to mark you, as well as give you her sword. This is a great honor, little one." There was something in his narrowed eyes that the elf girl couldn't read. Pity?

"Come," he gently guided her towards the tents they had set up. "This one has something to help you sleep."

He lit the fire in the center of the tent, fit for ten people. Pallets littered the ground in a lackadaisical fashion, and furs warms her feet. Sweet, spiced wine was brought to her lips, and she hungrily drank it. Her chest still pounded from the trip, as she wasn't a fan of heights. She began to slide her legs beneath the furs of the pallet, but hissed in pain when her thighs touched, rubbing the shallow wounds aginst each other.

Ma'dat gently pulled at her ankles and placed his palms on the wounds. She felt her face flush in embarrassment. They were healed shortly, and he pulled back after patting her knee.

"This is a great honor, little one," he said, repeating what he had said earlier. "Whether you feel it is or not."

"I said I didn't want to do this," she ran her fingers through her auburn hair and pursed her lips together. Her large brown eyes met his, and he blinked lazily at her.

"It does not matter what you want. It matters what she wants." His tone was flat and unreadable.

"Why couldn't Nedine be the Champion?"

"She did not defeat the necromancer in the temple."

"It was an accident! Surely it doesn't count?"

He let out a short chuckle, devoid of any humor. "An accidental defeat is still a defeat, little one. Consider it the beginning of a long line of happy accidents."

She said nothing at this, only stifled a yawn with her hand. He ruffled her hair.

"Sleep, for in the morning, we will head back to the village, and it is a long trip. Goodnight, Nisse." He stood up end exited the tent, leaving her alone with the fire. She laid down and, despite the wine, had trouble sleeping. She fell into a fitful slumber that would plague her for the rest of her nights.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

The dull thud of her body as it fell next to mine, her feline eyes staring into my own as blood leaked from her mouth. Her ebony armor shone with the light of the moons, flickering in and out of sight as my conscious thought ebbed away. I felt a hand slip under my shirt and grope my small, mostly undeveloped breast and squeeze urgently.

“We’re going to have a wonderful time, little elf,” a low voice hissed. My efforts to crawl away were halted by strong hands gripping my wrists tightly, pinning them above my head. I closed my eyes and grit my teeth as my trousers were slid over my rear, my belly scraping against the dirt of the desolate Skyrim road. I felt another hand on my rear, gentler, then my legs being spread apart.

I cried out in pain…




I jerked awake, momentarily disoriented in the darkness. I kicked the covers off my body, sliding out of bed and onto my knees on the floor. I felt for the solidness of my sword and let out a relieved sigh when I felt its warmth. I pulled it out from under the bed and partially unsheathed it, taking comfort in the soft glow. Dawnbreaker quietly hummed with energy, a sound I had gotten used to in the years I had it. I slid the sword back under the bed and checked behind the curtains of the inn, peeking out the window.

Dusk. The nightmares always woke me up by dusk. It never mattered what they were, whether they had happened or not, but they never failed to wake me up by dusk. Outside my door, the revelries of a party suddenly swelled as laughter leaked under my door, as well as light. I smiled slightly. It was always nice to hear someone having a good time, even in a place called “The Winking Skeever.”

The jarl had commissioned me to clear out a small nest of vampires near Solitude. Between the woes of her husband dying and the tenacity of the Stormcloaks trying to take the holds in her land, Jarl Elisef had passed all “minor” responsibilities to Falk Firebeard, a man I was well accustomed to dealing with.

I stood up and stretched, then dressed. I brushed my auburn hair to my satisfaction and held it back with a thin length of rope. I then opened the curtain a bit, letting the failing light stream in, then sat on my bed. I crossed my legs, tucking each foot under my knee, and straightened my back, staring forward. I placed my hands on my knees and began breathing a bit slower, listening to my breaths.

I sat like this until the light was nearly gone. I slid on my armor, a dark leather fit for night-stalking, then slid a cowl on, then decided against it. The strange Altmer that only came out at night made the locals uneasy enough, but add in dark armor and a cowl? I would be lynched for being a vampire, or necromancer. Or perhaps just because it was Tirdas.

I arranged my ingredients, my eyes accustomed nicely to the darkness. I slipped what I needed into the slots on a harness across my chest. Two healing potions, a stamina potion, two magic potions, and a cure disease potion. I slid a brown cloak on to offset the black leather armor, to startle the patrons less. Dawnbreaker was strapped to my hip last, and the cowl tucked into my pouch on my right hip.

The conversations lulled as I walked out. I expected it, yet still nodded at anyone willing to make eye contact with me. I smiled at a small child, who only blinked back up. He smiled back before I turned my head and shut the door behind me.

The air was brisk, as nearly always in Solitude. Spring was coming, though, and the air was a bit warmer than usual. Growing up near the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim, the warmer months were always appreciated by me. Though light on my feet, my heels clacked against the cobblestoned pavement on my way to the gates. The guard opened it up, and I was out. I slid the hood and cowl on, adjusting it so I could breathe with better ease. There was no need to check my map, as the same cave had been cleared out by me a year before. I walked the familiar road, passing a Khajiit caravan. They averted their eyes, afraid I was a thief wanting their goods. . I kept my pace up, disappearing down the hill.

When I got close, I slid into the brush across from the entrance. The spot was already ripe with the carcasses of animals and humans alike, and any would-be hero would be easily baited in. “The folly of the inexperienced is their inexperience.”

My old mentor’s words rang true in my head as my elven ears pricked at the sound of footfalls. A Nordic woman with bright blonde hair stood at the entrance, her hand on the hilt of her steel sword. I could tell she was contemplating entering. She looked at the bloodied bones and the bloody handprints on the ground, black with age. A pained howl suddenly burst from the cave, and she jumped and drew her sword.

I moved to stand up, but the warning on my lips was stayed by her form dropping quickly with a dull metallic thud, her armor hitting the rocks. She scooted forward, the steel scraping loudly, forcing me to cringe as my long ears tingled at the sound. I stood up and silently followed the adventurer down the tunnel, until it became too dark to see.

I held my breath and waited. I heard rustling, then the sound of a torch being lit, then the suddenly blinding light as the torch caught fire. I could hear the heavy breathing of the adventurer as she ventured forward. I let out a silent breath as I followed her though the dark cavern. The sounds of activity were heard as the vampires began to awaken fully. The sound of steel leaving its sheath rang out as she pulled her sword out and stepped into the lit part of the cavern. I readied my bow as she began to speak in a loud, authoritative voice.

“Foul creatures!” Her voice wavered slightly, but remained somewhat strong. “Tonight you will meet your death!”

Hissing laughter filled the cavern as they slowly advanced on the woman. She swung as one, and it easily dodged her and shocked her with a spell. Her sword clanged loudly as it hit the ground. Strangled groans from her clenched jaw made me shiver, as I knew that pain. I loosed an arrow from the bow I conjured, and it planted in the unprotected chest of one of the vampires. It fell back from the force of the impact, and the other vampires looked into the darkened tunnel.

“Elf!” One hissed. “Kill the elf!”

The lunged at me, and I pulled out Dawnbreaker, the light from its blade blinding them. It pulsed hungrily, a low moan emitting from the ringing sound as I held it out without a word.