Serene Of Cyrodiil, Chapter 4, Ashlander Affairs Options

[minque]

Ok my dear readers.....here starts chapter 4....hope you will enjoy it!

Chapter 3

It's not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what's required

Sir Winston Churchill


I stayed another week at Arvs Drelen, being a devoted scholar of Baladas Demnevanni, who in fact was more of a father to me than Rufus Vantinius back in Cyrodiil ever had been. I learned a horde of spells suitable for, if nothing else, keeping me alive in the harsh country I was to encounter.

It was with mixed feelings I took leave of Baladas and Shulki an early Turdas-morning as I was bound eastwards to the Ahemmusa Camp. Master Demnevanni had given me a nice set of potions and scrolls; Shulki gave me a wonderful cloak made of softened netch-leather, dyed in dark green with complicated embroideries along the edges. She had spent over a year making this robe and it was originally meant for her wedding. I first refused to accept it but Shulki urged me to it, since she was convinced that I saved her life by revealing the Talos Cult plot, and she was now to move in with Master Demnevanni and devote herself to follow in his footsteps; therefore she was not going to marry anyway. I then embraced her, tears running down my face, and accepted the wonderful gift and wished her all luck. I was really sorry to leave Gnisis; Shulki and Baladas Demnevanni were the only family I had....so far.

I went by Silt Strider to Khuul, a small fishing-village on the north-west coast of Vvardenfell. The rain was pouring down as I arrived and I hurried along the road leading from the Strider port to the village itself. Luckily my cloak was impregnated with Shalk-resin so it resisted the rain very well. Nevertheless I arrived at the actual village dripping from rainwater and extremely hungry. I asked around for some services and was shown to Thongar´s trade house, a rather simple place but where I at least could buy some bread and Scrib-jelly.

I also found out that in order to get to Ahemmusa Camp the best thing to do was to take a ship to Dagon Fel and then walk from there. I wasn’t all that happy about going by boat, since the weather still showed no improvement; in addition to the pouring rain a rather hard wind had started whirling around and the sea did not look friendly at all. I can’t stand the sea and I did not fancy losing my lunch to the sea-creatures, so I decided to ask Thongar, the Nordic proprietor, if I could wait a couple of hours in his house. I was allowed to sit down in a corner and so I did.

I must have fallen asleep sitting there because suddenly I was aware of some movement just beside me and when I opened my eyes I spotted Thongar´s hands deep down my in backpack, I immediately grabbed his wrist muttering:”'M feinedd balf fferrir”, and watched him grow pale as my grip turned his arm to a frozen piece of meat. Master Demnevanni´s spells were indeed very efficient and this one, “Icy Grip” was no exception…

“So, what are you looking for?” I asked coldly and relieved my grip so the blood could circulate freely in his arm again. The incredible pain as the frozen limb started to gain normal temperature was clear in his face; sweat was dripping from his forehead and he moaned as he desperately rubbed his arm.

“N-N-nothing, nothing at all” he gasped, looking hatefully at me, “Get out of here immediately. You cursed Witch”.

I saw no reason to disobey him, so after checking that nothing was actually stolen from me I went out of the Trade house and down to the docks. The wind had eased a bit and I bought a one-way ticket to Dagon Fel. I must have been rather exhausted, because I slept most of the trip, and arrived the following morning in Dagon Fel, the biggest Nordic settlement on Vvardenfell. It was a rather nice town, a mixture between grey wooden shacks and some patchwork stone houses surrounded by a wall….partially torn down though.

A tall blonde woman greeted me as I stepped off the ship, wondering if I needed some accommodation during my stay. She told me her name was Mette and that she could recommend “The End of The World Renter Rooms” where she currently was employed, as a scout. I found the name of the accommodation rather amusing considering that I actually was at the End of Vvardenfell at the moment, so I followed her there. I was offered a rather large room, with a bed, a small table and a large drawer in it. On the table I found a book that caught my interest, not so much the title, but the author: “The True Noble’s Code” written by Serjo Athyn Sarethi. I remembered Neminda mentioning him back in Ald´Ruhn as I joined the Great House Redoran…..

I laid down on the bed and started reading the book…..getting more and more doubtful the more I read; How could I possibly fit into The Great House Redoran? A house filled with noble warriors, worshipping the Tribunal, a thing I had not even the faintest clue what it really meant…..I shrugged and put the book aside…….closing my eyes for a bit.

Until this day I can’t tell what exactly woke me up, I only know that if something had not wakened me that bright morning at The End of The World, it really would had been The End of Serene Catraso, that’s for sure!

I don’t know what happened besides that I was sound asleep one minute and standing beside the bed, sword in hand, the next. I saw nothing, but a distinct prickling of my neck told me there was something there waiting for me. I turned around once more when a dark figure seemed to materialize out of the shadows, with a shiny sword in its hand. I realized that his armour was made of a light-absorbing material. I had no time to notice anything more, as he attacked with a ferocity I had never before encountered. I was able to use the greater reach of my long sword to advantage, keeping away from many of his attacks. Still, a significant number got through, and I felt something warm and wet run down the left side of my body. I fought without thinking, the instinct of survival made me launch a series of strokes that finally pressed my opponent into a corner of the room where I could finish him off with a lethal stroke to his stomach. As he sank to the floor, severely bleeding and his intestines visible through the deep cut I had given him I myself fell to my knees, panting from exhaustion, sobbing hysterically from grief of having to kill someone.....again!

I eventually calmed down and started to investigate my own wounds. Luckily I had taken off Shulki´s beautiful cloak or it would have been completely ruined. My shirt, soaked with sweat, had a long bloody rift in the left side, showing where the attacker had hurt me the worst. The cut was about 6 inches long and rather deep, since blood still was emerging from it in a rather heavy flow. I felt dizzy for a moment but managed to put my hand on the cut and concentrate. It was hard this time; my heart was still beating heavily and the sweat made my skin slippery so I wasn’t able to heal myself as swiftly as I used to. Finally I just tied a bandage made from the sleeves of my ruined shirt around me and hoped that would be sufficient.

Then I remembered the potions I got from Master Demnevanni, and I indulged myself with a small healing-mixture. Feeling much better and invigorated I started examining the body of my attacker. He was a young skinny Dunmer with a strange tattoo on his forehead. His armour was of very high quality; in addition to its light-absorbing properties, it also was designed to dampen sound. That would explain why nobody came to my aid in this fight. The sword was made from a material I never encountered before, strong yet very light and shiny. I decided to take custody of that sword and somehow find out what it was made of. I reckoned some Armourer would have the answer to that. I thoroughly wiped the sword clean from my own blood and put it on top of the chest of drawers.

Now the problem remained; what was I supposed to do with the corpse? I had no intention whatsoever to stay at The End of The World; if there had been one attack there could very much likely be another, especially since this attacker was unable to get back to whoever employed him and report me as being dead.....I was almost certain there had to be an employer of some kind- too many strange unexplainable things had happened to me since I got to this Island; an attempted murder did not really surprise me, just made me feel very sad, mostly because I had to kill another human being, something that I had already done a couple of times even though I resented it deep in my heart.

I took the sheets from my bed and wrapped the corpse in them and shoved him in under my bed. Then I unwrapped my bandage, seeing that the wound was almost healed, just a red scar remained stretching from under my left breast to the hipbone, the scar was sore and prevented me from bending and moving freely, but didn’t really bother me that much. Obviously the sword that made that wound was extremely sharp, otherwise it wouldn’t have cut that deep.

I also realised I’d have a problem finding something to wear, that ruined shirt was my last one, as were the trousers I was wearing, dirty, stained with blood and sweat, they were at least not torn but I did not fancy wearing then anyway. It seemed as I had nothing left except a dancing dress that Shulki had given me because it was anyway too small for her. It was an extremely short black one with shoulder straps, not much to wear during a journey and definitely not anything I would think of wearing when walking around in Dagon Fel.......

[minque]

Introducing another guest-writer....the one and only: Lonewolfie!!!!..Thank you for your contribution.....

Enjoy!!

“I watched the faces of the people around me- there was Tamara and four more of Ranya´s sisters, and their mother, all six with the beautiful red hair that obviously ran in the family, and another elderly woman who I didn’t recognize.”

Cyrodiil, the day after I ran away from home, the Dunmer settlement....the elderly woman I did not recognise then, that was who stood in front of me now.

“Serene, my child, Azura sent you to us, to help the Ahemmusa.” With those words, the Wise Woman bade me sit down by the fireplace.

I did not understand how I could be of any use to these people, who did not even like me, as far as I understood, but the Wise Woman’s next words made a chill run down my spine;

“I have followed your ways, ever since that day back in Cyrodiil, I’ve been with you, been watching over you.”

The universe started spinning, faster and faster.......the atmosphere became chilly, a cloud engulfed me and there she was, Azura, my Guardian-Angel, clad in lightest blue as she swayed in front of me, touching my forehead;

“Serene, fear not! I am still with you, guiding you on your path......You shall help my people; use your skills and your intelligence for the good of all and you will be greatly rewarded.”

The world stopped spinning around me and I came back to my senses found myself lying on the floor beside the fire, the Wise Woman sitting next to me, offering me a cup of tea, not the usual hackle-lo, from the smell. I did not ask, just downed it.

“I hope you are feeling well, Serene,” she said, “I will introduce myself to you, I´m Sinnamu Mirpal, the Wise Woman of the Ahemmusa and also their leader.”

“She´s old Serene,” he then said. “It´s too much for her leading the tribe in combat as well as being their spiritual leader and healer, and she can´t prepare the potions we need! The tribe is falling apart, the young ones are leaving for greener pastures, the older ones are too weak to hunt for the support of women and…and there have been no children born in several years, due to some unknown curse. Azura knows we need a new generation…..oh what will become of my people?”

I heard that voice in my head now as clearly as if he was sitting right beside me.

“Sedrane....” my voice was but a whisper.

“Yes, my son met you,” Sinnamu said, “I sent him to Balmora to seek you, since I had a vision of you being in Vvardenfell. You see, Azura is the link between you and me, therefore I knew you had arrived.”

“But why me?” This question had haunted my mind since the day I stepped off the boat in Seyda Neen, more than eight months ago, and now I hoped to finally get an answer, since this woman seemed to be able to look into the future.

“That is a long story, Serene, and I will not give you an answer yet; it is best for you if you do not know everything.”

Sinnamu Mirpal arranged for me to move in with her. A second screen was placed in a way that rendered me a spot of my own, complete with a bedroll, a small chest, a lantern and a bedside table. That first night at the Ahemmusa camp I had a very deep and undisturbed sleep, which did wonders for my state of mind. The assassination attempts had really got to me, but hopefully those men-in-black now had lost track of me, out here in the middle of nowhere.

It would later turn out that it is not wise to take anything like that for granted.

My first week at the camp was rather uneventful. I took part in the daily life of the Ahemmusa tribe. Everything was made by hand; even functional items were works of art.. The tribe was mainly guar-herders but they also grew some wickwheat, saltrice and ash-yam. That made their diet rather monotonous and not especially nutritious, and I pondered about how this could be changed. The area in which the camp was situated, the Grazelands, was a rather good farming-land so there should be an opportunity to enhance their farming.

Sedrane, Sinnamu´s son, was out on a scouting mission, trying to find some better pastureland for the herds. As it was now, the guar could hardly find anything to eat close to the camp. That was another problem the Ahemmusa faced- with so few able-bodied members, their grazing range was restricted. The guar had to be protected from predators or even theft from outcast Ashlanders.. I waited eagerly for Sedrane’s return, curious about how I would feel seeing him again, since I had a very clear memory of our last meeting.

He came back on the afternoon of my 10th day at the Ahemmusa Camp. It was a chilly time of the year, and the wind that blew over the plains was hard and made me wish that I had some warmer clothes to wear. I had received a large guar-skin from Sinnamu and was working on a pair of trousers and a tunic suitable for the harsh autumn weather, but the outfit was far from being completed as I had to learn every step of the process from Nummu, a kind young woman who besides being a herder also was very skilled in making clothes from guar-hides. I had cut out the different parts and now I had to perform the onerous work of making holes along the sides to be able to stitch the parts together.

This particular day I had been working with my trousers for three hours and felt that I needed a bit of fresh air, so I went for a small walk around the camp. I spotted a tall man approaching from the west, so I stopped, waiting for him to come closer. Strangely enough I was not afraid, maybe I knew subconsciously that there was no danger ......

When he recognized me his face was all smiles.

“Serene.....at last you´re here,” he sounded happy to see me, and he took my hand, held it and looked at me.

“Welcome to the Ahemmusa,“ he said, and the sound of his voice made my legs get weak. It was as if we had parted just the day before. A heat rushed through my body, and I could not utter a word. There was something stuck in my throat.....I swallowed to prevent the tears from running when he gently kissed my forehead.

Sedrane was greeted by his clan who were eager to find out if he´d found some new grazing for the herd. Unfortunately he couldn´t provide the answer that they wished for.

That night when we sat around the fireplace in Sinnamu´s yurt, Sedrane told me a bit about the hard reality the tribe was encountering at the moment, and also the constant misfortune that seemed to haunt the Ahemmusa. This is the story he told me that chilly Frost Fall-evening, so long ago....

“We had been hunting for several hours. Usually the game was good in this area, but lately there had been less and less. We had found nothing, and we were beginning to feel we should give up and go home. Suddenly a cry rose in front of us, and several bandits, outcast Ashlanders by the looks of them, rose from their places of concealment and began to run toward us, brandishing daggers and shortswords.” Sedrane looked into the fire, his dark red eyes sad with the memory.

“We quickly began to fire arrows at the bandits, realizing that this was an encounter that would end in the annihilation of one group or the other. As we fired, we sent Mabarrabael, the fastest runner among us, back to the camp to inform the Wise Woman of what had happened. The rest of us continued to fire arrows. Many simply bounced off the chitin armour the bandits were wearing, but one bandit pitched backwards off his feet with a shriek, an arrow protruding from his eye. Another fell with an arrow embedded in his stomach.”

Sedrane paused, took a sip from a pitcher with herbal tea and continued:

“The bandits had now gotten too close for archery, so we drew our daggers and prepared for close combat. As the outcasts reached us, the melee quickly broke up into several small fights. The bandits were outnumbered, but they had tough chitin armour, whilst we only had Netch Leather armour.”

I listened to this tale with rising horror, Not knowing what to say, I just took Sedrane´s hand in a futile attempt to comfort him.

“Uradras swiftly fell beneath a brutal shower of blows from a bandit wielding a shortsword, blood gushing from several wounds to his torso and head. Addarnat and one of the outcasts were grappling on the ground, but this ended when Addarnat broke the grip of his attacker and quickly slashed his dagger across the bandit’s throat. Bright red blood gushed forth from the terrible wound, and the bandit fell choking on his own blood.”

Sedrane looked at me, and seeing me shiver, he put his cloak around my shoulders, asking if I’d like him to stop. I noticed Sinnamu sitting quiet, eyes closed, but her lips moved silently as if she was praying…..

“The bandit with the shortsword still remained, and his longer reach had taken its toll on us. Two more of us were down, and Mansillamat was bleeding from several wounds to his arms and face and would not survive the next hour. Assama-Ilen rushed to his fellow’s aid, but was not quick enough. Just before he came within striking distance, the bandit beheaded Assama-Ilen with a brutal backhanded swipe of his sword.”

I felt physically ill now; I never had liked violence and bloodshed, so this tale of an event that happened less than a month ago really got to me. I shivered and could not stop the tears from coming.

“How did it end?” I whispered as Sedrane sat silent

“With a scream, I threw myself at the bandit, plunging my dagger into him over and over, each strike drawing forth a gout of blood. Eventually the dagger broke, but the bandit was now a red stain that was unrecognizable as ever having been a Dunmer. Wearily, I stood up and slowly began to walk back to the camp with a heavy heart.”

Sedrane bowed his head in anguish, and I embraced him saying nothing. No words can describe how I felt at that moment; I just held him close to me.

“We didn’t have a healer with us, Serene,“ he said, “otherwise the loss would have been minor….but our healer is dead.”