Joryn's annoying new world, Its my first ever fan fic Options

[Joryn]

Hey, this is my first ever TES fan fic. Im new to this whole thing, but reading many of the ones posted by people here, I decided to give it a go. As I said, Im not anywhere as good as most people here, in fact the last time I wrote any kind of story was at school.

Anyway, enough excuses, dont mind posting anything negative as Ill just be glad to know if I should or shouldnt continue with this or not. Its late now so I decided to write this and then be off. Enjoy, or dont.

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Crossing the sea of ghosts.

Joryn was pacing around on deck, the sea air helped him fine tune his objectives. Cool moist air and a clear open ocean, which he find profoundly calming. It was hard for him to believe, for the first time he was going to set foot out of his home province. Not that he was particularly brimming with excitement, he was a Dunmer, and as such showed little enthusiasm for the other races or their cultures. He was also a Telvanni to boot, so not the most culturally broad minded specimen to be sure.

Still, Morrowind had been home for his twenty odd years of life so far. Young for a mer, but Joryn had been quick to gain a fair position in his house. An impressive feat, considering the contempt shown to him by many of the higher ranking Telvanni. But this had undoubtedly been made easier as his Masters sphere of influence grew.

Master Aryon, one who had shown a dislike for the old and rigid ways the near corpses on the council ruled, couldn’t have been a better master for Joryn. He and many others like him were given a chance under Aryon. Now their worth was measured by their abilities, and not the centuries they had lived.

But his task beckoned, and he was not going to get the best perspective on it by mulling over his current status within the Telvanni. Master Aryon had summoned him only yesterday and told him of a mission of some importance for the council. A particular amulet rumoured to rest within the ruins of the ancient and extinct Ayleid Empire throughout Cyrodiil.

It stank of personal gain for one of the councillors to get an upper hand, but he had no intentions of letting his master down. Joryn would play fetch and be sure that the trinket landed in the lap of whom it would benefit him most. This would of course be Aryon. Aryon had also mentioned not ruling out aid from the mages guild, a peculiar request, but one that made sense.

It was clear that the Telvanni had no intention of being caught with their exquisite pants down. After another quick look around, it was perhaps time to throw a few encouraging words the captain’s way. “We are making good time, no?” he asked optimistically. “Aye that we are laddy, but I bein sure to keep my nose outta Telvanni business” he chortled “Buncha necromancers to be sure, but they pays well mind you”.

Joryn half smiled at the captain, “I take it we are headed to Blacklight?”
“That we are, after a short stop at Dagon Fel, but we will arrive within the hour laddy”. “Very well” was all Joryn was prepared to finish on, he headed down below deck. “Not much of a talker, eh?” the captain snorted.

Joryn kept himself occupied with his spells and books throughout the rest of the journey. He had no intention of spending time in Dagon Fel, there would be time to waste in Blacklight. But until then Joryn was planning on ways to make his stay in Cyrodiil as short as possible. He was bitter enough about the arrogant humans poking their noses into his home, and not being a hypocrite, was uncomfortable about doing the same to them.

After dozing off in a hammock Joryn was quickly awakened by a loud thud and a familiar loutish voice. “Here we are lady, needn’t you worry bout the payment, you’re keepers saw to that”.With a nod Joryn added “Excellent, now captain it has been a pleasure but I must depart now, perhaps we will meet on my return trip, until then farewell”. “You too laddy!” The captain offered a two fingered salute as Joryn left.

Stepping out into the docks, Joryn’s first priority was to find a tavern. Get something to eat and drink. Weaving his way through the crowded streets with many Dunmer and the odd outlander, wasn’t much trouble. He was hardly packed for a trek, he wore his plain mages robes and carried only a reasonable amount of his gold with him. Also he brought some magical equipment and what little information he could scrape about this amulet. If he needed to make some minor potions on the move he could also manage that.

After a little searching he found a reasonable place to stop, a small tavern called The Unburdened Traveller. The place seemed quiet enough as he entered, and a pretty young Dunmer barmaid smiled pleasantly as he approached. On his way to the bar he was suddenly hit by a strong stench of mead on the air, and eyed a large Nord with his head in his mug, sitting in the corner. Quietly, which was a relief.

“What can I get you, sera?” the young barmaid asked. “Just a mazte, some hound meat and slaughterfish scales if you please”. After quickly preparing his order, she laid the food and drink down in front of Joryn as he passed her the 15 gold. The barmaid's pleasant smile disappeared in an instant. Joryn was too busy stuffing his food down to take notice of the Nord no longer occupied by his cups in the corner, and had walked up behind him. Joryn, with a chunk of hound meat sticking out of his mouth, was taken by surprise as the brutish Nord flipped him around to face him. Joryn’s jaw dropped along with the hound meat, which slapped onto the stone floor.

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Enjoy it or not, thanks if you took the time to read it. I look forward to hearing if Im good enough to continue with this.

[Joryn]

Okay here is another part of my little story. Ill try and keep the things people say in a better order. There isnt much talk between people at the moment, Ill make sure there is more if I continue with this. Just need to build up some more confindence first. See what you think anyway.

And thank you Kayla and Stranger, I dont care how much you liked it, just that you liked it a little suits me just fine.
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Continuing from the tavern

For a moment Joryn couldn’t tell what was going on, the large Nord had grabbed him by the robes and was shaking him violently. While his face was being assaulted by the Nord’s mead soaked breath and spittle, Joryn discovered that he had apparently taken offence to his quick glance on the way in.

This was typical of his luck, of all the rowdy Nords in Tamriel, he had to glance at one who would take it personally. Perhaps it was time to see if it was too late to talk.
“I don’t suppose you’re willing to talk this over another mug of mead?”
“Not a chance chump, Im going to enjoy slapping you all over this here bar!”
The barmaid, who now looked as if this was nothing new, then asked
“Would you please try and leave at least a portion of the bar intact this time Fjortred?”

Apparently “Fjortred” was finished talking, and punctuated this by thumping Joryn on the top of the head. The only high point to his ending up on his knees was that he could now grab a stool off the floor. Joryn hoisted the nearest stool and proceeded to smash it over the Nords barrel chest. This didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest though, as he only stood there laughing in Joryn’s face. After Joryn had seen as much of the Nords open mouth, laughing right in front of his face, Joryn got a headbutt for his troubles.

As he started to get up after what felt more like a warhammer to the face, Joryn was going to mention something about thanks being in order. As Fjortred was lucky he didn’t actually sit on the chair Joryn had just smashed over him. But he was only greeted by the huge Nords fist to his face, knocking him over the nearest table. Joryn, the table and everything on top of it went crashing to the ground. The barmaid immediately started to the door saying “I think it’s about time I went to find the guards, you two just wait right here, okay boys?”.

Joryn, slumped over the table with a nose bleed and watering eyes, decided it was time to change the plan before he was knocked clean out. He readied a simple spell as the thump of the Nords heavy boots signalled his approach. When he was close enough to Joryn he grasped the Nords trousers, causing them to burst into flames. As the Nord went into a frenzy trying to put out the fire, Joryn quickly searched the area for a weapon.

He spotted and grabbed a poker from next to the fire and made his way towards the Nord, who was still hysterical and preoccupied with putting it out somehow.
“Sweet dreams you blasted oaf!” was all Joryn offered before he smashed the poker over the Nords head. Amazingly, he only dropped to his knees.
“You Nords certainly are tenacious!” Joryn said as he dropped the bent metal rod.
It was time to finish this. Finish it, meaning give Joryn ample time to escape. He cast a paralyze spell on the Nord and left him, trousers still aflame on the floor, helpless.

After grabbing what little gear he had and the mazte he had left at the bar, Joryn made for the exit. Bear soaked and bleeding at the nose, Joryn figured taking the main street wasn’t wise after that incident. Making his way down the nearest alley, he turned to see two guards accompanying the “pleasant” barmaid. He would have to be more careful next time he wanted to waste time. Not even out of Morrowind, and almost ending up in a jail cell, a perfect start. He sincerely hoped he had burnt off something a little more personal to the idiot Nord than just his trousers.

After running his hands down his face with a healing spell, Joryns bruises lessened and his nose bleed also stopped. Deciding on whether to stop at a store before leaving Blacklight, he decided it would be best to at least reach Cyrodiil before getting into more trouble. With out any more fuss Joryn headed for the gates.

On his arrival he was stopped by a large Dunmer guard wielding a spear.
“No problems I hope officer, Im just looking to get under way with my journey?”
The guard eyed him suspiciously, and Joryn was suddenly contemplating the possibility of a Telvanni rival cursing him with bad luck. Certainly if his luck was going to continue on this course it seemed likely. Or it was imagination, either way he was sick of it as soon as it had started.

“Very well, you can leave, but I advise you to take care on your journey, strangers who cause trouble never last long around here”.
Joryn decided to show his lack of interest by yawning theatrically. It was clear he had succeeded in irritating the guard, but the gates were open and he was finally on his way.

Joryn never realised how much he valued his solitude in his quarters back at Tel Vos. Nobody would bother him when he was there, or at least not often enough for him to make a deal out of it. While that was definitely the first random bar fight Joryn had ever gotten into, he never thought about how little he ever interacted with anyone other than his Telvanni friends. Even though he had managed to do a little travelling around Vvardenfell and some of the mainland, it was clear he had some things to learn still.

It was a clear day and an open road, which Joryn welcomed. He certainly didn’t have a problem with sticking to himself until he got to Cyrodiil. Certainly a quiet and uneventful trip across the border and to Cheydinhal would help him put that idiocy he had recently been a part of behind him. Perhaps while he was travelling on a quiet road, it would be a good opportunity to find out more about this Ayleid amulet he was sent to find.

From what he had read on it, it was called the amulet of Ayleid mastery, probably a useful conjuring trinket, from what little he knew of the Ayleids. It seemed simple enough; a few of councillors had taken a liking to this trinket, and decided to send someone to play fetch. A game he played quite often when rising up the ranks of the Telvanni. And if he truly needed to let the mages guild know what he was doing in Cyrodiil and possibly ask for their assistance, Joryn would no doubt have to toady about around them as well.