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]

12. Conclusion

The next day we were all in the throne room when Wulfren brought up a concern: "I still have to clear my name in regard to my father's murder."

"Look Wulfren. Who made this claim that you murdered him?"

"Ragnar."

"Anyone else?"

"Errr, no."

"And what does Ragnar say now?"

"Nothing."

"Did anyone see your father's murder actually occur besides you, Ragnar and Kreikan?"

"No."

"Laurenna, do you believe Wulfren killed your father?"

"Certainly not."

"Sigrid, did Wulfren kill your husband?"

"No!"

"Wulfren. Did you kill your father?"

"Certainly not, lass! I saw Ragnar kill him!"

"Wulfren. As Chieftain, who do you answer to?"

"No one."

"Wrong. We'll settle this matter right now. Come with me. You also," I said indicating Laurenna and Sigrid.

I lead them through the anteroom. The guard there saluted Wulfren.

I led them outside and down the steps.

"Speak nothing of 'clearing your name' for now" I whispered to Wulfren.

We reached the village.

"Wulfren, By the gods it's good you are back!"

"It's Wulfren! It's the chieftain."

He was greeted in a similar manner by more villagers as we continued along. I led them to the main hall. We entered.

"Wulfren! It's Wulfren!"

"He's back! Laurenna was right!"

We walked towards the center of the room. I could hear more villagers entering the Main Hall behind us.

"Our chieftain is here"

"Mead for the chieftain!"

I looked at Wulfren. "Do you understand now?"

"Aye lass, the people have spoken. I am the rightful chieftain."

Someone passed him a mug of mead. Was that a tear in his eye?

"Laurenna and Sigrid are safe and I am now rightful chieftain of Lokken. Oh what a happy day this is!" said Wulfren.

Wulfren then announced; "Mead is no longer restricted!"

That got a loud cheer.

Someone had handed me a mug of mead. I'd have to drink it just to be polite.

Taking a cue from my experiences at at Thirsk I raised my mug and shouted; "All hail Wulfren The White, Chieftain of Lokken!"

The response was deafening.

After a moment Wulfren faced me and said; "There is one more thing I must talk about with you now."

"No reward is necessary ... "

"Oh bother on that, take what you want from the castle, but that's not what I want to talk about."

"Oh."

"Rashelle, over the past few days I have developed some feelings for you. You have saved our family. I have seen you fight like a berserker, an avenging Valkyrie".

Valkyrie. Righhhht. I knew where this was heading.

"Rashelle, would you marry me?"

I really wished he had not asked that with Laurenna and Sigrid and half the village standing right there. Sigrid was giving me a "say 'yes'" look.

"Wulfren, we have shared some adventures and I am fond of you but I do not love you. There is no attraction of that sort."

His eyes were downcast like a sad little puppy. It made me feel like a heel.

"You are more like a brother to me, the brother I never had. The brother I would have liked to have known while growing up."

That went over well, both with him and (more importantly) with the potential mob surrounding us.

"You are chieftain now," I continued, "You have a job to do. There will be another woman, better for you. Don't pine over a silly Breton girl."

He nodded, and gave a little smile. Good: he'd buck up.

Sigrid gave me a little smile. Good: she didn't hate me either. I had managed it so that Wulfren could save face. Best use of speech craft I'd ever done, and just when I most needed it.

Then I remembered something.

"Wulfren. Please hold that thought. I'll be right back. Really. You'll like this."

I darted outside, turned left, and ran to Lisendra's house.

I knocked on the door. "Lisendra! Open up! I have good news!"

She opened the door and looked at me.

"What's all the yelling about? What's going on?"

I grinned and said, "Come with me."

She did.

We entered the main hall. I stepped to one side and gestured to Wulfren.

There was immediate silence in the hall. To silence a roomful of Nords who haven't had mead in a while is quite an accomplishment.

She gaped; she gasped.

"WULFREN!!!!"

She rushed towards him and threw her arms around him.

"Wulfren I'm sorry I'm sorry. I was stupid. I love you. I didn't realize this until you were gone. Oh I begged the gods to tell you one more time that I loved you, and now I can."

Then the party began in earnest. Nords sure know how to party.

I stayed for a few days, helping them clean up and also getting myself some well-deserved rest. Snorri and I had a particularly distasteful time cleaning up the shaman's room, removing his Wards and disposing of the things he had in there. I ended up having to use fire to cleanse that room.

I also cleared up a little problem that the castle berserkers were having, with the help of Granny Torunn. I consider myself a master of alchemy but that woman could teach me more than a thing or two!

Finally the day came when I knew it was time to go. After a quick meal alone in the castle kitchen I packed my things and walked into the throne room to say goodbye.

"Wulfren, it is good to see you on the throne. Sigrid, it is good to see you not in the tower."

"Thank you again Rashelle".

"I have enjoyed your company and your hospitality but now it is time for me to be leaving."

"Won't you stay in Lokken?" asked Wulfren.

"I have to go. I will miss you all."

I turned to Laurenna.

"I will miss you most of all, Laurenna my good friend. I will come back and visit".

Laurenna and I clasped hands. I said to her, "I know your vow is over but you should keep the short hair, it looks cute."

"I might. It looks good on you also."

"Well, that's that I guess."

"Won't you stay in Lokken?" said Laurenna.

"No, I have set things to rights here and now must move on."

"Rashelle, please stay."

"I have obligations to my House."

"Rashelle. Please stay. Stay here ... with me."

Focus, Rashelle; the important things. What is really important: a faction or a ... friendship?

I stayed.

Wulfren is to marry Lisendra. It looks now that she is more mature she will be able to make the relationship work this time. Laurenna is sceptical but willing to wait and see.

Fjorngrin continues to raise the snow bears. Sometimes Laurenna and I go and play with them. They took to her right away, as I somehow knew they would. I think the companionship of the snow bears is good for Fjorngrin as he drinks much less these days and keeps his house cleaner.

Sigrid has gone back to teaching the children how to read.

Laurenna and I made some trips to Vvardenfell and Mournhold and have had some fun adventures there but we both agree that Lokken is much nicer. This is my home now. I am freed of any obligations to the affairs of gods and emperors. I am surrounded by friends. And I do so love the snow.


--
Afterward

I've never written anything before. No, that is not true. I've never finished an entire story before, nor posted it. I chose to write a Lokken fanfic because it would be a short story and not a novel. Also I chose Lokken because it's my favorite quest plugin.

I've not followed the Lokken story-line exactly. Some changes were necessary as part of the translation from the nonlinear media of a Morrowind plugin to the linear medium of text: suddenly I had to keep track of time: I couldn't have Rashelle stop in the middle of one important time-dependent task to go do a second task.

Some changes were necessary because of my limited writing skills: I dropped an entire sub-thread of the Lokken "main" quest in order that I could keep track of everything. I hope Emma doesn't mind.

Some changes were caused by the characters. I've heard "real" writers talking about how sometimes their characters "take over" the story. I've never had that happen ... until this story. In chapter four Rashelle wanted to beat that Imperial. The Imperial didn't want to shut up. Then Fjorngrin was not content to be a mere 2-dimensional "quest giver" NPC, no ... he had to assume three dimensions and step out of the page and write the chapter.

Rashelle is based on my Morrowind character of the same name. Writing this story actually forced me to think through some sort of back-story for her. That was interesting.

Thanks to the following authors of Morrowind fanfic for their inspiration:

Treydog ("The Story of Tray")

OverrideB1 ("The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl")

Minque ("Serene of Cyrodiil")

Their stories showed me that Morrowind Fanfic could not only be done, but done well, with quality writing, realistic personalities and plausible motivation.

I especially like Minque's work because she is taking greater liberties with the main quest, yet making it all consistent, original and intense. I (and most likely everyone else on these forums) eagerly await each installment.

Thanks to Bethesda softworks for creating this great game and for including a construction set ... and for creating an entire world with a rich heritage and culture.

Thanks to Emma and her team for creating the wonderful White Wolf of Lokken Mountain plugin and giving it such compelling three-dimensional characters: I actually said "If they harm one hair on her head they will die" out loud when Ragnar's men kidnapped Laurenna. No other plugin has "touched" me like Lokken has. When it was over I was happy that my character had saved the day but sad that it was over. I felt that I had had adventures with them and gotten to know them in their wonderful snow-covered land.

Thanks for all the comments/critiques here. This story has had many improvements & corrections since its original posting because of them.

As for what is next ... perhaps another Rashelle adventure.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 8 2007, 10:51 PM