The Call of the Wind, Children of Kyne, Volume I Options

[Kane]

I just finished up the long volume II of this series, so I thought I'd start posting them both here. This entry is one of my first real stabs at writing out a tale and one of only a couple I ever finished. The dialogue is a little stilted and the chapters are short (needed more practice) so it isn't a long read. If you are interested in reading it, I hope you enjoy! (PS, I'm too lazy to proofread this one and I wrote in 2018, so if there are any spelling or grammar errors, I apologize in advance!)



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Prologue

The morning dew lay gleaming on the lush, green undergrowth of Cyrodiil’s Great Forest as the morning sun shined through the branches of its lofty trees. Deep in the heart of the woodlands, sat a small clearing and at its center lie a large rock, covered in silky green moss. Here upon this stone, sat an impressively large brown hawk - it looked far out of place among the other birds of the province, but it was not without purpose. Sitting as still as the unmoving stone beneath it, a wanderer could have mistaken it for a small statue to some long forgotten god.
Nestling its head into her wing feathers, she waited impassively for her prey. Soon thereafter, a crashing could be heard in the forests nearby. Quite suddenly, a pale, sickly looking Colovian emerged from the dense brush and scampered right through the clearing without so much as a glance at the large hawk.

Craning her neck, she listened for the pursuer she was expecting.

And sure enough, the gentle footsteps of a practiced stalker could be heard approaching the clearing, following the rampant destruction of the woodland left in the wake of the panicked, clumsy runner. The hawk lifted her head and waited for this new, but nonetheless expected visitor.

Ah, I see this predator is much too clever to wander into a forest clearing. The professional that he is knows to avoid such a thing, as it is ripe for ambush. Perhaps a little encouragement is needed…

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The mercenary did not like what he saw ahead. Peering through the bramble, he intensely surveyed the clearing, looking for any sign of an ambush. The vampire he pursued had thus far been crashing through the forest like an ogre, but that may have been a ruse. Vampires, he had always thought, were usually much cleverer than this oaf was.

Hesitating outside the clearing was wasting time, but his instincts were kicked into overdrive as he approached it. Long ago he learned to trust those instincts, and many times they had been the difference between life and death. So there he sat, eyes darting around the forest opening, searching intently for signs of danger.

Quite suddenly, the once calm morning changed as a brisk northern wind began to flow through the woods, rustling the treetops and bringing a slight chill to the air. Our mercenary barely noticed the change in clime, until he heard the whispers on the wind. Startled, he relaxed his eyes, and instead strained his ears to the wind, where he swore a voice had whispered to him. The breeze fluttered once more, and this time he was positive…his name was carried gently on the wind.

Kirin...approach my child. Follow your instincts…and my voice…

Standing up nervously, he shouldered his composite bow, and walked boldly into the clearing. To his utter surprise, the hawk he’d mistaken for a statue hewn above the boulder stretched its impressive wings, and spoke to him with an undoubtedly feminine voice.

“It is time for you to return home, my child. Skyrim awaits you, and your destiny has come. Left behind will be your days of mercenary work and feeble pleasures. They matter not now, and only what you accomplish next will be of any consequence.”

This was unexpected, and temporarily froze Kirin, as a million thoughts raced through his mind. He settled on only one, though.

“And if I refuse?”

“It will matter not. The aspect of destiny is inescapable, and utterly final. Try as you might, it will simply catch up to you later, at a time when you may have less choice in its subtleties. Heed my words, and I promise you will not regret the choice to follow them.”

Kirin pondered on her words once more, and quickly realized what he was dealing with. One should not refuse the finality of the divines… He removed his helmet, and knelt on the grass before the large northern hawk.

“Lady Kyne, I see the wisdom in your words, and I pledge myself and my service to you.”

“Very well, young Kirin. Your time in Cyrodiil is at an end. Return to your fellow brothers and sisters of Skyrim, and your true journey shall begin in earnest.”

She then spread her wings once more, and took to the skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.

This post has been edited by Kane: Dec 10 2024, 03:08 PM

[Kane]

Doomdriven

Blackreach was unlike anything Kirin had ever seen, and will likely ever see. The immense dark cavern stretched as far as the eye could see, and was illuminated only by two sources - towering mushrooms with milky white, flowing tendrils and Dwemer lamps. Outcroppings of a mysterious blue rock reflected the spore’s light, sticking out across the dark landscapes like beacons in the night. Far off in the distance, a massive orb hung from the shrouded rock ceiling high above it.

A small structure of dwarven make was directly across from where they emerged into this mysterious realm and in front of it waited a Dwarven Sphere, likely still guarding the domicile from its original owner. Kirin motioned to Lydia and pointed it out. Together, they readied arrows, and let them fly in the same instance, dismantling the automaton before it could unpack itself. The clang of the arrows on armor alerted a few nearby Falmer, though, and soon they were under siege from two sides. Finishing off the last of the gloomlurkers and a Charus Hunter, they ducked inside the small building.

It was a small, one room stone shack with a bed, fireplace, and dining table. The remains of the last occupant lay in a pile on the floor, dead for who knows how many years. Various alchemical books and ingredients lay around the home, which looked like it had been turned into a small lab for alchemy research. On the long shelf a plant was growing in a small pot, and it emitted the well-known sound of Nirnroot – but instead of being the familiar white-green hue, it was a deep, crimson red color. This intrigued Kirin, but not enough to take it. He had no skill in or use for alchemy, and didn’t trouble himself with learning it. Instead, he rummaged through knapsack lying on the floor.

“Grab anything we can use and then we’ll get back out there.”

“You sure, Kir?” asked Lydia. “I really do not like pillaging from the dead.”

“I’m not asking you to take his clothes…just grab anything meaningful to us, and call it a day. Food, water, arrows, potions. You know the drill.”

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A few hours later found them stumbling through the dark of Blackreach, but their goal was in sight. The approximation of the Tower of Mzark given to them by Septimus took some time to align to surface navigation, but Kirin managed it once he was able to pinpoint where they were under Skyrim. Since then, they were making excellent time, and only slowed down to deal with whatever monsters lurked in the shadows. The worst of which wasn’t even abnormal…

Just as they rounded the bend towards the stairs leading to Mzark, a giant lumbered up the road. Typically docile unless threatened, Kirin was shocked to see it charge at them, club raised. Being stuck in the dark must have addled its mind and made it feral. They wasted no time in defending themselves, and Kirin even used the full might of Unrelenting Force to their advantage, making quick work of the goliath.

“I’m sick of this cold, dank hole in the ground, Kir. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. C’mon – the Tower is just over that bridge. Hopefully we are on our way back up.”

Indeed, they found an elevator across the bridge and through the large metal doors. After a quick ride up, they found themselves in a small anteroom lined with bookshelves and smattering of various Dwemer odds and ends. A passage on the other side brought them into a large Oculory controlled by mysterious buttons on the ledge overlooking the top of the reflecting platform.
Kirin studied the devices for a few moments before grabbing the lexicon from Lydia’s pack, and inserting it into the receptacle to the right of the buttons. It locked in place with a snap, as the gears within the device turned, and activated.

“I think I got the gist of this,” said Kirin.

He pressed the only illuminated button and…nothing happened.

Lydia snorted. “Nice work, boss. Maybe you should try asking it nicely.”
“Hush.”

The burly Nord depressed the button again, but still nothing happened. Getting frustrated, he jabbed at it repeatedly until the second button became illuminated.
“Aha! Told you I’d get there!”

Behind him, Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Please, you had no idea what you were doing – just admit it!”

“Never.”

After a few more minutes of random button pushing, the lexicon began to glow as the focusing lenses of the Oculory began to rotate and redirect the beams of light shining from above. Before long, an echoing clang reverberated throughout the chamber as container lowered from the ceiling an opened up atop the platform below. Kirin and Lydia quickly ran down the ramp to the reflecting platform and stood in awe at the containers contents.

Before them lay one of the fable Elder Scrolls. An instrument of immense power was theirs for the claiming and the gravity of the situation was not lost on them.

“I’m almost afraid to touch, Lyds. Think of the power that would be open to us…if Nirn wasn’t in such dire need, I’d be tempted to leave it and bring the tower down upon this place.”

“But we do need it, Kirin. Grab it and let’s get out of here – Paarthurnax is waiting for us.”

Kirin nodded, pulled the scroll from its resting place and slung it over his shoulder, strapping it to his back.

“May the Divines have mercy on us.”

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It was dark outside when they exited from the Tower of Mzark, and a snow storm was blowing through the mountains. Outside of the elevator gate was another ruined campsite with no occupants. Lydia set to gathering fuel and building a fire while Kirin studied his map and tried to pinpoint their location. Eventually, he recognized an outline in the distance knew at once where they were. Rolling up the map, he joined Lydia at the fire while she cooked up the last of their venison steaks.

“I wonder how long we were underground for,” said Lydia. “I lost track of time, and was surprised to come out so late in the night. Judging by Masser and Secunda, it must be nearly midnight.”

“That must have been moonlight reflecting down through the Oculory. Could have fooled me.”

“Who takes first watch tonight?” asked Lydia.

“Neither of us – we both need the sleep. Just be sure to say a prayer to Kyne, and hopefully she will protect us while we rest.”

For near eight hours, the two adventurers slept undisturbed in the tent near the entrance to Mzark. In one sleeping bag lay Lydia, ever vigil with her hand around the dagger under the pillow. In the other, Kirin slumbered with the Elder Scroll tucked firmly in his arms – both of them were dead to the world, getting a well-deserved sleep.

And outside the tent, a large hawk perched on a nearby tree stump, patiently waiting for the bright morning sun to rouse the sleeping friends.