Gaenor: Reloaded Options

[ShraX]

I posted this on the official TES forums, and although it's not finished, I'll continue updating both here and there.

If you haven't read the other two stories I've written, one of them is in the Fan Fiction section of this site, and you can PM me for the other. There really is not much needed to know when reading this one, except who the already well-known characters such as Gaenor and Almalexia are.

Enjoy--

The Nerevarine lay a lifeless corpse upon the Mournhold Temple steps. His blood trickled out of the slashed openings in his neck, limbs and torso, and down each stair, leaving its stains as it went before collecting into a shapeless pool on the tiled courtyard floor. The High Ordinators were still, their armored masks hiding the looks of terror on their faces as they stared at their defeated savior. The Temple doors were now wide open, and Almalexia hovered at the entrance. Her Hands were nowhere in sight.

"My champion," she said softly in disbelief, her golden face emotionless. "Who is responsible for this?" She spoke quietly but the entire city heard her. A Hand emerged from the darkness of the Temple and removed his helmet., engraved with the Daedric runes for S and V. "Our guards watched the battle," he explained in his low, rumbling voice. "They dared not aid your Nerevar for fear of death by his murderer - the Bosmer, Gaenor." The Demigoddess floated down the stairs, over the the corpse of the Nerevarine and turned back to the Temple. "Salas, this wood elf has gotten his revenge, but Terenius' life is nowhere close to Nerevar's in worth. Remain here and clean this mess. I will find young Gaenor and speak with him." Her Hand bowed and ordered the two Ordinators, still in a stupor, to dispose of the Nerevarine's body, as well as those of the four slain Hands within the Temple. Almalexia's wrath was unbridalled, and vengeance consumed her. Her fury at the news of Nerevar's death manifested physically, killing all but her favored Hand, Salas Volar, in an explosion of goldy flames.

She flew from her place in the Temple courtyard high above the city and into the clouds which concealed the late afternoon sun's light. The moons were now more than halfway over the mountainous horizon and brought their stars with them. With a gesture of her wrist the dense clouds parted in two and the light of the lowering sun lit the city aglow. She closed her eyes and began searching for her prey. However, this was unnecessary. Almalexia expected this mortal to flee into hiding from her might, but he welcomed it. He was sitting on a bench in the Bazaar, doodling shapes in the dirt with his sword.

His armor was sundered, dented and sliced through. One pauldron was missing as well as both gauntlets and parts of his greaves. It wasn't clear to tell from his ebony armor, but he was covered in blood from head to toe. He leaned his blade on the bench and removed his helmet, then placed it over the hilt. It was hot and sweat was dripping from his forehead to his beard. He put both hands to his face and wiped it, and ran his fingers through his stiff hair. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, waiting with open arms for death's embrace.

Almalexia dove towards him like a starving hawk upon a field mouse, disintegrating the clouds with the aura of flame around her. This mortal wood elf defeated her martyr in combat and had the audacity to sit on a park bench in plain sight! Masser and Secunda were rising in unnatural quickness and the sun was already out of sight. The furious demigoddess did not realize in her blind rage, but Gaenor tore away from his hands and looked up past her to see it: both moons took position directly above him, Secunda in front. As they slowed to a stop everything around him turned pitch black, aside from the raging Almalexia, now halted in mid-air, as well as both moons.

The elf slowly stood and faced his enemy in partial confusion. After his ordeal he truly cared not what his fate was. 'An eye for an eye,' was his logic. 'She took Terenius and I take the Nerevarine.. but this is very strange. perhaps this witch's debt is still not repaid.' He walked past her toward the moons, which were glowing and pulsating with light, as if to communicate.

"Much has happened this day. We must speak."

[ShraX]

He tore open the paper wrapping to find a large, heavy fur coat that closed down to his ankles with buttons and thick string. He pulled the hood over his head and face, and with his scarf, he was now as warm as he was within Snowfold. He thought aloud among the roaring and whistling winds about his encounter with the stranger and the Nords. "How did he know so much about my quest and what Azura told me? Is he a messenger from the Daedra? What if he is leading me to my doom?" He knew not any answers, but he felt it was his duty as a hero of Tamriel to find and banish any evil that may or may not dwell in the land. It is this duty that bound him and made certain to all who surveyed his actions that he was no clumsy, happy-go-lucky wood elf, but an iron-hearted warrior fighting for all that was good in the land.

It was almost impossible to see anything but white, even for a hawk-eyed Bosmer, and the road disappeared beneath him in mounds of snow. He was still running but didn't know where, so he pulled out his map to get his bearings. He crouched and examined it within the folds of his coat and discovered something he had not noticed before; a small portion of western Skyrim had been circled with red ink and marked with an X. In the center of it was a symbol of a demon's head with the Daedric rune for 'J' behind it. "Jkoryl," he said, dreading the truth which the stranger spoke. He pocketed it and looked up to the sky with one arm over his eyes, but the sun was invisible in the blizzard.

Now virtually blind, he continued in the direction he was going, assuming he left Snowfold the way the road had lead him, to the west. Hours passed, and if he had not been given the fur coat, he would surely have frozen. He couldn't believe how much of a barren tundra Skyrim was, and before actually being there, thought it impossible to be so cold anywhere in Nirn, let alone Tamriel. The snow shot down from the sky in sheets, making it futile for anyone, he thought, to see where they were going. 'How could the Nords possibly live in such a place?!' he wondered in disbelief as he trudged on through the thick frost. Fortunately for him, it was so thick that he was able to walk on top of it rather than into it, making his journey slightly easier and his feet warmer.

He saw no place to stop for rest, so he pulled off his pack and brushed off the caked snow as he walked. He searched it for edible food but found everything, even his firewood, to have turned stiff and useless. This made him nervous since he knew not the area, and even if he did, figured he would never find a town or passing traveller for miles. He tossed it to the ground, cracking the brittle ice, and moved on. Three more hours passed and it was getting dark. The blizzard was dying down but the temperature remained, and with each passing minute Gaenor was able to see clearer through the flurries. Eventually, he could finally see the silhouette of the sun behind the sea of gray clouds above, and it moved quickly down past the horizon.

At last the snowy madness had ended, and the relieved Bosmer stopped and sat in mild exhaustion. "So trying are these lands for one such as myself," he said aloud, enjoying the solitude. "My legs ache from walking, but it's only been a few miles." He rubbed his knees and stared all around him, but remembering he was facing in the direction he was to go. There were no trees, bushes, hills, or even homesteads; in fact, there was no civilization of any kind to be seen. The place was uninhabitable, and not even a demon would dwell there, thought Gaenor. 'There is nothing to kill, plague and destroy. Jkoyrl must be further westward.' Convinced now from both the stranger in Snowfold and the mark on his map, he stood a short time later and continued in search of the fiend.

He was tired and hungry once again, but it was a familiar feeling by now. Over time he had learned to focus on other things rather than his appetite and physical well-being, and in this case he admired his surroundings. Indeed, although there was nothing but flat ground and sky, it was beautiful in a way. The white of the snow expanded for miles and disappeared into the bottom of the sky ahead, gradually changing color as the sun descended from pale gray to brilliant purple. The clouds above him moved with incredible speed and it seemed as if the elf was walking deeper and deeper into another dimension. He was enthralled in its utter magnificence, and wished the viscious clawing from behind hadn't cut his appreciation of the land so short.

--------------------