Rashelle At Lokken, WWOLM fanfic Options

[blockhead]

Around the end of February and the beginning of March I posted a short fan fiction on a small intimate forum and there were some positive responses. This story is being posted here on the chorrol forums as I am eager to see the responses from the larger fanfic-oriented crowd here. This seems to be where the "pros" of the Morrowind fanfic world congregate,

This will be posted this in sections, serialized as it was originally. It would be easy to just post the entire thing all at once but I thought it would be more fun not to.

This story is based on the main quest of Emma's "White Wolf Of Lokken Mountain" plugin. It contains spoilers.


Rashelle At Lokken
by Blockhead

1. Arrival, Tension

Snow. The ground covered with it. The trees white with it. The late afternoon sun reflecting off of it. The landscape was that of a magical wonderland. My adventures in Solstheim had not reduced my wonder at this phenomena. I had never seen snow where I grew up and there was certainly none in Vvardenfell.

Although I was the Nerevarine and an experienced adventurer, I arrived at Lokken gawking and gaping like a tourist at the Imperial City.

The Lokken leaflet had been in my pack for some time and I had finally decided to see what it was all about. I had no great desire to hunt animals merely for sport (as advertised) but I have always liked to explore new places.

My adamantium boots crunched on the snow as I stepped out from the boat.

"You had better talk to Ragnar Fire Hair before you do anything else, lass. Without his permission, you are not allowed to be here", admonished the boatman again.

Yeah, whatever.

I paused to look around some more. Ahead lay the village, the road ahead rising up towards the mountain. Up further, to the left, could be seen the castle, covered with snow and looking amazing, like a fairy land castle in some painting.

As I slowly walked up the road I tried to stop and chat with some people but they all seemed preoccupied ... no ... afraid. At first I thought it was me, all decked out in my ebony cuirass, dark brotherhood greaves, adamantium boots, and the sword Chrysamere on my back. That and my bare arms making me look more a barbarian than a spell-sword could perhaps be intimidating. I suppose also my coal-black eyes and coal-black hair (an odd color for a Breton) marking me as Not A Nord did not put anyone at ease.

Several people had white hair. It was not the usual blond that Nords tend to, nor a light gray. It was a bright white, like snow. I had only seen such a pure white on the fur of snow bears and other animals. Something in the water perhaps?

A woman who did not have white hair (it was brown) was little friendlier. When I approached her she said "Hello there. Your face doesn't look familiar to me. I'm Silja. Welcome to Lokken. Don't expect to find much here, though. This is a poor village. Since we are not allowed to hunt in the forests anymore, it's hard for us to get by. I assume you have been invited by our chieftain, Ragnar Fire Hair, and that you have his permission to hunt? If not, you had better stay away from the Lokken wildlife."

I thanked her and walked up the road a little further before a guard named Gudmund also told me that it was very important that I see Ragnar Fire Hair first.

"I will, but first could you direct me to a trader or general store? I may need some warmer clothing."

That generated a smile and some directions the Lokken Clothier. I actually did not need the clothing. Despite my origin in warmer climes, I have an unusual tolerance, actually an affinity, for cold weather. What I was wearing now was comfortable and the only concession to cold I had was a sleeping fur in my pack. Still I had broken the ice a little bit. That was progress. It also gave me an excuse to try to talk to at least one more person before heading for the castle.

I walked into the clothing shop. I briefly talked with the woman there, Anna. She was also nervous like the people outside but gave away some more information. The people here were in fear, but from one of their own, not from me. Apparently this Ragnar Fire Hair, their new chieftain, was not liked and was a not a nice person. He had some men loyal to him and a shaman. They were also feared.

Thanking her I left and continued to the castle, stopping only once more, at the brewery. I had been in many a bar and tavern but never in a brewery and I was curious. There were big metal vats and kettles. It was rather complicated looking and awe inspiring in the manner of certain Dwemer ruins. By that I mean I had no idea how it worked.

Some chitchat there with Borka, and his wife Gwenn, yielded more information: the people who actually lived in Lokken were not allowed to drink the mead, or at least not much of it. It was reserved for Ragnar Fire Hair and for his guests. What little they were allowed was at three times the price that guests paid. I was beginning to dislike this Ragnar and I had not even met him yet.

Thus forewarned, I approached and entered the castle.

I entered an anteroom of sorts. A guard was there. He said nothing but pointed to the door on the opposite side of the room. I nodded and went to the door.

I entered the throne room. There were animal pelts on the floor and tapestries on the walls to warm up the cold stone room and to provide an ambiance conducive to the hunting enthusiast. There was a bar on the left.

A bar in a throne room: that's not something I've seen before. Convenient I suppose if one were more concerned with entertaining than the usual duties of ruling. There were four guards; one on either side of the door I had just entered and two closer to the throne at the far end of the room.

The throne was on a raised section of the floor and on it sat a large mean-looking Nord with red hair who could only be Ragnar Fire Hair.

To his right stood a man in dark robes who had to be his shaman.

My boot steps were the only sound as I approached the throne. I presented the leaflet to Ragnar.

He tossed the leaflet aside and spoke: "Who the oblivion are you? You have no business being here uninvited and I'm sure I didn't invite you."

He paused and studied me. I stared back at him. I'm sure my eyes now had the hardness of obsidian as well as the color. I adjusted the angle of the sheath on my back.

He looked tough. And huge. A great bull of a man, and Nords are already kind of big. I wouldn't want to fight him, at least not alone.

"Well, you look like you can handle yourself in the wild. There is one way that perhaps you can be allowed in the forests."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I want you to hunt and kill a certain wolf. This is no ordinary wolf. It's larger than the regular snow wolves, though it is white like they are. It has unnatural blue eyes. My men and I have pursued it on numerous occasions and it has always gotten away."

"That's not something you see every day," I quipped. Oh Rashelle, you must stop this business of talking without thinking!

"Exactly. it is obviously not natural, not of the All-Maker. It is a daedra-spawn, an abomination, a menace that must be killed for the safety of my people," he said, not picking up on my sarcasm.

I nodded, not trusting myself to not again say something wrong, and to also buy myself a second or two of time to think of an appropriate response.

This man mentioning the All Maker rubbed me the wrong way: after my adventures amongst the Skaal I had some respect for their beliefs. I somehow knew that Ragnar had no right to call on their All Maker.

"So, oh chieftain of Lokken, so long as I Quest for this White Wolf, I am permitted in the forests of your island?"

"Aye, with my blessing. Bring me his head there will be a reward."

"I shall begin at once. First I will question the guards and villagers as to sightings."

"Excellent" he said, waving me away, obviously tired of talking to me now that I had agreed to his business.

I definitely did not like this man.

As I turned away I got a better look at his shaman and I liked him even less. My magical sensitivity picked up on an evil from him that I had previously only sensed from Sixth House minions. I tried not to display my feelings: a shaman is very sensitive and notices many things. Around him it would be best to appear to be a simple non-magical warrior and not a spellsword.

I strode away from the the throne. Before I took more than a few paces I could see that the woman at the bar was trying to get my attention with her eyes.

I sauntered over to the bar. Might not be a bad idea to get a mazte anyway. I cannot not stand mead. I love snow, but the Nords can keep their mead.

"I'm Kielreen"

"Rashelle. Got any mazte?"

"Yup".

"Please".

She poured me a mazte and started to speak very quietly. Not a whisper. That would have attracted attention, but she obviously wanted only me to hear.

"he's asked you about the big white wolf, wants you to kill it, right?"

I paid and took a sip before replying.

"Yes."

"Don't. There is something strange about the creature."

I took another sip.

"Things are not as they seem in Lokken."

That much was already obvious.

"Talk to my aunt Gwenn at the brewery."

I had just been there. Maybe mentioning Kielreen would get Gwenn to say more than she had the first time. I nodded ever so slightly. Picking up my drink, I walked to one of the one of Ragnars guards.

He at first did not want to speak but I can be charming when I want to be. I asked him about the white wolf and any sightings of it. This did not yield any new information but would go back to Ragnar and would keep him complacent about my activities. I had already decided that I was not going to kill this mysterious white wolf.

After talking to the the other guards I finished my mazte, left the mug on the bar and exited the castle. It had begun to snow. I caught some flakes in the palm of my hand and watched them melt.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Mar 30 2007, 11:41 PM

[blockhead]

5. Ghost, Wolf

I Recalled to my Mark outside of Laurenna's house. I approached her and related what had occurred.

"I don't know where Snorri is so you'll just have to search for Snorri's hideout using Fjorngrin's description."

I nodded.

"However, I have an easy solution for convincing Snorri that you are my friend. Go to my father's tomb and fetch Gunna's amulet from the coffin. Bring that with you and show it to Snorri. That should do it."

"Where is your father's tomb?"

"Right there in my cottage."

I raised an eyebrow.

She smiled and continued. "There is a secret trap door in the back wall, covered by a tapestry."

"Nice. I'll be right back."

While convenient, I thought it was a strange burial arrangement. But then again, these were abnormal times in Lokken. As long as it didn't disturb Laurenna's sleep I guess it was fine.

I entered the cottage. I lifted the tapestry up and saw the door. I opened it and found myself in a tunnel hewn through the rock. It sloped gently downwards. After a few yards, the rock gave through to an ice strata. I continued down and soon found myself at the end of the tunnel.

Wulfgar's Stalhrim coffin was there. Interesting: I didn't know that anyone still had the ancient formula for making Stalhrim. Elsewhere in Solstheim they told me that it had been lost forever. Inside the transparent coffin was the body, perfectly preserved. He was dressed in a set of Nordic Mail armor, all but the helm. He had white hair. Outside the coffin were some more pieces of armor, an axe, some gems & unidentifiable trinkets and a Nordic mail helm.

I didn't search for Gunna's amulet because in front of the the coffin stood the semi-transparent form of Wulfgar's ghost. I knew it was Wulfgar because the face of the ghost matched the face of the man inside the Stalhrim.

Without thinking, I said "Frost boar tusk in the butt".

The ghost chuckled.

"I see Laurenna has not forgotten".

I nodded. I didn't know what to say next. Why hadn't Laurenna mentioned the tiny detail that her father's ghost was here?

"Don't look so scared! I may be a ghost, but I'm not here to harm you. Instead, I want you to listen to me."

I nodded.

"I am Wulfgar The White, father of Laurenna and Wulfren, former chieftain of Lokken. I love this island, I love each villager living here and every animal in the forests. And I love my wife and my children. It makes me so sad to see the pain Sigrid and Laurenna are going through, and it raises my wrath to know that Wulfren has been falsely accused of having slain me.

"Wulfren is innocent. The man who thrust the sword into my heart was my own step-brother, Ragnar, the man who calls himself the new chieftain of Lokken. I don't know what has happened to my son, but I can feel that he is alive. If you care for Laurenna, if you care for the Lokken people, please try to find Wulfren. Only he could oppose Ragnar and claim his place as the rightful ruler of Lokken.

"Ragnar is a man of considerable power. I doubt that anyone could slay him with normal powers. But, with the war-hammer of Thorjan Bjorg, Wulfren might be able to defeat him. This incredible weapon is hidden in the tomb of Thorjan Bjorg. But, you cannot just pick up the warhammer and walk away with it. To get the strength to handle it, you also need Thorjan's gauntlets. And it is pointless to look for the tomb of Thorjan Bjorg without the gauntlets. Only when you have found them, you will find the tomb.

"My friend, I will leave you now. Please, feel free to use my weapons and armor. You might have use for them in the dangerous forest. I suggest that you try to locate my shaman, Snorri, who is hiding in the forest. He might know the truth about Wulfren's whereabouts. Bring Gunna's amulet - you'll find it on my coffin. Then, he will know that you are a friend. Don't tell Laurenna that you have met me. I don't want her to get upset. May the Gods bless you, my friend.

And he faded away.

I felt sad. He seemed like a nice man.

I located and picked up the only amulet I could see so I guess it had to be Gunna's amulet. I picked up the the helm and looked it over. It was a fine-looking piece of gear but I don't like to wear a helm unless I have to. I can hear an approaching stealthy attack better without a helm.

As I set down the helm an alarming thought occurred to me. Ragnar, his shaman, and most everyone in the village had seen me with long hair. Now I had very short hair, the identical cut to Laurenna. I might as well have donned the Anti Ragnar Club uniform. The next time he saw me Ragnar would put two and two together and would throw me off the island or possibly even just try to have me imprisoned or killed. I could avoid these last two but then I would not be able to help anyone in Lokken. Even if he did nothing to me, I'd be watched, hampered in my efforts. Bad things would happen to people I spoke to. To Laurenna.

A cast of an Almsivi Intervention spell and I was teleported to Gnisis.

At the Imperial Legion fort I procured an Imperial steel helm. It was an open helm, which I prefer over a closed helm. I could have gone to my house and gotten a better helm but I didn't want to take that much time. While there, I obtained some extra alchemy ingredients and some additional armor repair tools.

This activity helped me to settle down from my encounter with Wulfgar's ghost. I had encountered Undead who talked instead of attacking in the past, but it was still something I was not entirely used to.

Upon leaving the fort I bought some spices and ash yams and other Vvardenfell vegetables for Laurenna. I imagined her diet had been monotonous of late because of limited foraging & hunting time.

I cast Recall, walked over to Laurenna and showed her the amulet.

"Yes, that's the one. Where did you get that helm?"

"Quick jaunt to Gnisis" I said, "I have to hide my short hair from Ragnar and his men."

"Ohh, good point, but my fathers helm is a lighter and stronger construction than that thing."

"Yes, and recognizable as your father's helm. That would raise questions."

"Oops."

"I brought you some spices and different food and stuff for you. I'll just drop them in the cottage and then I'm off to find Snorri. If I'm not around for dinner don't wait. I might be in the middle of following up a lead on the wolf or your brother."

She nodded.

I must admit that despite the urgency of the matter, I had great fun romping around more of Lokken. The east coast was green, as I had been told, but still with the foliage I associated with colder areas. It was pretty.

I encountered two-legged animals in addition to the expected local beasts. Some were reavers, who seemed to roam most of Solstheim. Some were of a different sort. They wore full Nordic Mail armor yet fought with a peculiar ferocity that I associate only with madmen and berserkers. They were tough. I had to quaff potions.

Laurenna had mentioned something about Lokken berserkers being different from regular berserkers in that they wore armor and were tougher. These must have been what I encountered.

I had gone past the entrance to Snorri's hideout several times before I finally recognized it as an entrance. It was a hole between two rocks yet also set back behind some bushes.

I wanted to do this carefully; not spook anyone. I called in before entering: "Hello, I am Rashelle, a friend of Laurenna. I would like to come in and speak to Snorri."

I heard nothing.

"I don't hear anything. I am coming in. Please do not be alarmed. I will leave if asked."

I entered, slowly, making as much noise as I could.

I was in a narrow cavern.

"I am looking for Snorri," I called out.

Making my armor clank as loudly as possible, I walked. The cavern bent to the right then to the left. I came into a chamber lit by torches. There were stairs up to a wooden platform and on the platform stood a man.

"Are you Snorri?"

"Yes I am, but who are you?"

I took off my helm. The thing was hot.

"I am Rashelle. Laurenna sent me."

I approached the stairs and held out Gunna's amulet.

"She told me to show you this."

"Gunna's amulet," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to find the White Wolf." No beating about the bush, me, no sera.

"He's here but he is in bad shape from poisoned arrows."

"I have healing potions."

"They won't work on a wolf."

"Oh."

"I can't leave him here alone but if you could go to Granny Torunn for me I believe she would be able to make a cure poison potion for a wolf."

"I don't know her," I said. "Where does she live? In the village?"

"No; she lives in the wilderness, not far from Fjorngrin's house. Do you know him?"

I nodded.

He gave me directions relative to Fjorngrin's house. I thanked him, put my helm back on, and then departed silently.

The sun was setting when I reached Granny Torunn's house.

I knocked on the door and an older Nord woman answered. This made me fairly sure I had the right place.

"I am Rashelle. Are you Granny Torunn?"

"Yes, I am. What brings you here?"

"Snorri told me you might be able to make a healing potion for a large white wolf that has been injured by poisoned arrows."

"Not ... that wolf?"

"Yes," I answered, "that wolf. He is safely hidden but is doing badly."

She invited me in and paced for a minute or two. I relaxed on a chair and absently studied her alchemy equipment.

She spoke: "I think I can do it and I have most of the ingredients. The only thing I require are two wolf pelts. Not snow wolf, but regular wolf. If you could get those for me then we will be all set."

"Right. I'm on it."

Twilight turned to darkness as I roamed through the woods. Moonlight on snow covered ground is so magical. Eventually I found two wolves. I brought the pelts back to Granny Torunn. She said they were perfect.

In a surprisingly short time she had made a potion of Cure Poison formulated for wolves. That woman knew her alchemy!

"Untested, obviously", she said, "but I expect it will work."

Payment was not mentioned. I thanked her and returned with the potion to Snorri's.

"Thank you Rashelle; now hopefully we can save the wolf," he said after I had given him the potion.

"Now Rashelle," he said, "this may take awhile and I must not be disturbed. Could you come back in the daytime tomorrow?"

I nodded and left. I was a little miffed but would get over it. I stepped out of his hideout. I cast Recall. Laurenna had already gone inside for the night. I did not enter Laurenna's cottage. I had things to do. I was not going to sleep just yet, if at all, that night. Silently I walked down the path, towards the castle.