Rashelle At Solstheim, bloodmoon fanfic Options

[blockhead]

This story contains spoilers for the Bloodmoon Expansion for Morrowind. As it has been some time since that was released I expect that this is no longer concern but I thought I would mention it here anyway.


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Rashelle At Solstheim

by blockhead aka pcc



Chapter 1. Arrival



I think I was the only one on board the boat who was not grumbling. Apparently the Solstheim posting was viewed as a punishment or an exile by the soldiers of the Imperial Legion.

This ship had been chartered by the Legion to send a group of soldiers to Fort Frostmoth in Solstheim. I was the only civilian passenger.

I felt a sense of anticipation, there was something in the air.

For one thing, I was cool, nicely cool. The air had been slowly lowering in temperature over the course of the voyage. It was now cooler than the coolest cave I had ever been in.

For another, I was going to a strange new land. I love to explore. I had heard of Solstheim and its "snow". I had been told what snow was but I frankly felt it too incredible to believe. It sounded more like a crazed skooma dream ... but I wanted to see it.

Over the past half hour or so, the sky had been becoming more overcast. It was now a solid-looking gray.

The air became cooler still, and I felt like I had never felt before. Around me the men were beginning to shiver and complain and don fur cloaks. I had been forewarned so I had a fur from a creature called a "bear" in my pack, but I had no urge to wear it. I was fine ... feeling better than ever.

The air got cooler still, cooler than I ever thought it could get. A gentle cold breeze blew against my face and on my bare arms and it was ... wonderful.

"Brrr, woman, you must have some Nord in you! They like the cold."

This was logical. My tolerance ... no ... my *affinity* for cold made me suspect that my father had been a Nord. Since I was an orphan, I would never know.

I was pacing on the deck, sometimes stopping to stare off towards the horizon, when it happened.

"It" was millions of tiny white particles that floated gently down from the sky. They were the purest white imaginable. They could not be ashes.

I caught some in my hand. they faded away. I caught some more. they ... melted?

"Is ... is this snow?"

"Well of course, haven't you seen snow before?" replied one of the men.

"No."

"Oh. Sera, I am sorry."

"It's OK."

I smiled. So *this* was snow. I was enchanted.

"You won't like it so much when you have to dig out from it in the morning, or when you have to walk through it."

"You've been here before?"

"Yes, I'm returning from a month-long furlough. I've been stationed at Fort Frostmoth for almost a year now."

He fell into a discourse on the problems and dangers of Solstheim. From horkers to snow bears to spriggans to the semi-intelligent rieklings, there were many new dangers and problems for the hapless adventurer.

I sensed he was going to segue into the "protect the helpless female" monolog so I discreetly adjusted the sheath of the claymore that I wore on my back. It clanked against my ebony cuirass. The Breton spell-sword in the armor can take care of herself, sera.

"Erm, yes, well keep your wits about you and don't slip on the ice and you should be OK."

Ahead, a gray and white mass resolved itself: land.

The ship approached and I could make out a stone dock. The ground behind it, covered with short green grass of a sort not found in Vvardenfell, rose up until it met, further back, the mass of a stone Imperial fort.

To either side were ... trees, but of a sort I had never seen before. These must be the "pines" and "fir trees" that I had heard existed in colder climates.

The men were busy calling the role or standing in formation or some other such military thing so I was was the first one off the ship.

"Brrrr, so ... cold." said an Argonian dock worker. I pondered the wisdom of a creature used to the warm swamps working here in Solstheim.

I looked at the fort, then I glanced to the west. The snow covered wilderness beckoned, a lure I could not resist. I ran west: I could explore the fort some other time.

It was not long before a creature attacked me: some things never change, no matter where you go. I identified this one as a wolf. I knew of these from before. They were almost everywhere in the empire but Vvardenfell. It took almost no time to dispatch it.

It wasn't too much longer before I was attacked again, this time by a large bulky brown creature. It walked on four legs but stood up to attack. It growled, had wicked claws and was larger that I was. Still, Chrysamere was up to the task and in short time I had slain it.

There was something familiar about this creature. Then I realized why: its thick fur reminded me of the fur I had in my pack. This brown creature was therefore a "bear".

I continued along, wandering and exploring. I was heading north as well as west now. I reached an area where the ground was covered with snow. The snow in the air began to get thicker: there was more of it. The wind began to pick up, driving the snow into an intense mass of bright white opacity.

I was having trouble seeing. This was what they meant by "snow blind", a situation where daylight and whiteness were as effective as Stygian darkness at blinding one. The blizzard raged on and I stumbled in snow that was already over a foot high, with drifts almost as high as I was. I loved it!

At some point I crossed a small river that was covered with ice. I could walk on this ice, though I fell twice before I got the hang of it. I was amazed: the only ice I had ever seen before this was the stuff created by frost spells. Here was natural ice, strong enough to hold my weight.

Eventually, in a region with far less foliage, I reached the ocean. I was now somewhere on the west coast of Solstheim.

Most of the coastline of Solstheim is littered with impressive standing stones. They are huge and carved and placed, via means unknown, by ancient Nords. This was my first sight of them.

On a rock outcrop, I saw silhouetted the shape of a man. He stood and looked outward, towards the sea. Since the blizzard continued to blow, I found this behavior unusual. I carefully ascended the outcrop, which was slippery with spray and snow.

Now I could see the man clearly. he was a Nord clad all in a dark, almost black, armor that appeared to be made of wolf skins.

He turned to me, unconcerned at a stranger with a big sword and said "The sea, never has there been a maiden so beautiful or so unforgiving."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I am Thormoor Gray-Wave and I have been cursed. Six months ago I was at the rudder of the ship, not far from here. I fell asleep and we crashed against some rocks. Almost all on board were killed.

"A seer who survived the wreck cursed me with eternal wakefulness as punishment. I have not been able to sleep since that day, not a wink, not even a cat nap. I have tried potions, spells, and other things. Nothing worked."

The wind and the waves crashing on the shore were the only sounds.

"If only I could get the seer, Geilir the Mumbling, to rescind this curse."

"Maybe I could help?" I asked.

"Aye, lass, that would be a great thing if you could do it. I've suffered so. Maybe you could talk to him and convince him."

I nodded.

"His cave lies in that direction. It is not terribly far. The entrance is a low snow-covered mound."

He pointed.

"Right. I'm on it."

The blizzard began to taper off into a light snowfall as I traveled. On the way I was attacked by two Nord women. At first I was overconfident, as they were armed only with daggers. When the first dagger bit into my arm I realized that I had underestimated matters. The frost enchantment hurt, even with my affinity to cold, and the blade itself was more damaging than it looked. I also realized that these women were skilled with short blades.

Chrysamere chopped into the first one. She screamed and was down, although not yet dead. I kicked her while swinging my sword at the second one. She dodged but the blade still cut into her.

She came at me and I brushed the dagger aside with Chrysamere.

"Why are you attacking me?" I shouted.

"You will die where you stand!" she said as she raised her dagger and rushed at me.

I ran her through.

The first one must have quaffed a potion because she was up and on the attack again. I kicked her back while I pulled my blade from the second one.

I parried and my swing forced her back.

She came at me again and again. I simply parried and blocked. Maybe she'd calm down and stop.

She didn't.

I finally kicked her hand: her dagger went arcing though the air, quite a ways. She ran for the corpse of her compatriot, obviously intending to employ her dagger.

My booted foot smashed down on the weapon.

She stopped and glared at me.

"Why?" I asked. "Who are you?"

She aimed a kick. I dodged. Since I had to move my feet to do it, she dove for the dagger and snatched it up. She was on the attack again. I guess she just was not going to talk.

I dispatched her. It bothered me, not knowing why these two had wanted to kill me. I didn't think they were bandits.

I healed my arm with a spell and then examined the corpses: they both were wearing fur shirts that were very similar in appearance, as if they were some sort of uniform. Boots and brown pants completed the ensemble. I inspected one of the nasty cold-enchanted daggers. It was a curious construction in that the hilt had no cross-piece and that the blade was not much longer than the hilt. For its size it was rather effective. I stowed one in my pack.

I continued on my way and soon found a snow covered cave. I sheathed my sword and carefully entered.

The inside of cave looked as if it were entirely made from ice. I was astounded. I touched the wall: it was pleasingly cold. It *was* ice. Perhaps Solstheim was so cold that there were layers of ice in the ground as if it were merely another form of rock? Fascinating!

I progressed along the tunnel of ice. It went downhill until it opened into a cave that had some furniture, a few torches stuck into the floor, and one occupant.

He was a Nord man, with long, light brown, hair. He studied me warily. This was fair, as I had just barged into his home uninvited.

"Excuse me. I am Rashelle. Are you Geilir The Mumbling?"

He chuckled.

"I haven't mumbled since back in school as a lad, yet I have a name for life."

I grinned.

"I am sorry. I come here on behalf of a man who has not been able to sleep for six months."

He frowned and said; "He caused the deaths of everyone on board but myself and my friend."

"He said it was an accident."

"Aye, lass, it was: the fool fell asleep at the helm. We struck rocks and the ship sunk like a stone. I dragged him to the shore, although I almost decided not to. I let him live but I put a curse on him: he will never sleep again."

I remained silent. Sometimes I say more by not saying a thing. I stared.

"They died because of him."

I was mute.

"Look lass, he did a terrible thing."

Silence was my only reply.

"Of course, we all make mistakes," he said, "It's just ... that one was such a big mistake."

I silently reflected on mistakes that I had made in the past.

"How about this, lass? If you can find my friend for me, I'll lift the curse on Thormoor Gray-Wave."

"Your friend?"

"Oddfrid White-Lip. She is my only friend these days. Some draugr attacked us here today and they took her away. My powers as a seer are, sporadic: they do not work on demand, so I did not see the attack ahead of time."

I nodded.

"My visions indicate that the draugr took her to Kolbjorn Barrow. It is to the far south east of here, not far from the Imperial fort. It's a little bit west of the fort, actually"

He must mean Frostmoth.

"What are draugr?"

"They are undead: they are the mummified corpses of Nords that have become animated. They are a black in color, with eyes that glow red: they are hard to see so they can catch you by surprise. They seem to lurk in every barrow in Solstheim. They attack and they kill: they feed upon the living. Beware of them."

I nodded and departed.

I made a long journey back to the fort. I fought many creatures along the way, including one of a type that I had been warned about, a spriggan.

The creature was of a strange appearance. It resembled some weird cross between a woman and ... a tree. Its face was human but the eyes were devoid of any humanity, staring blankly as it used its large claws to slash at me.

Taking a hint from the resemblance to trees, I hit the spriggan with a fireball. It screamed and slashed at me again. While the spell did some damage, it was not enough to kill the creature. I chopped with Chrysamere. The sword connected but the spriggan was tough ... with flesh almost like wood in hardness.

Nothing but to chop and duck and chop some more. Blood like red sap flowed from its wounds. Eventually I killed it.

I paused to take a breather. This creature had been ... annoying.

One does not expect a just-killed creature to return to full health and attack again, yet that is just what the fetcher did. Suddenly there was a flash of light and I was staggering back from a slash of the creature's claws, cursing and dodging a second slash.

I slammed down a potion and fought. I killed it a second time.

It rose from the dead again ... larger this time. I was beginning to come close to panic. Could this thing ever be killed for good?

Finally, I killed it for a third time. This time it stayed dead. I like many things about Solstheim, but spriggans are not one of them.

Upon sighting the Fort, I turned and strode west.

I found a barrow, a Nord tomb. The entrance was a pile of roughly-hewn dark stone blocks with an ornate door. I slowly puzzled through the ancient Nordic runes on the door, whose shape and meaning were unlike modern Tamrielic, and determined that this was the Stormpfund barrow.

This was not the one I was looking for but I entered anyway. The black stone made the interior of the barrow even darker than that of a Vvardenfell tomb.

I met my first draugr and also an animated half rotted undead wolf. Later I found out that these are called "bone wolves".

I fought them.

Afterwards, I found a nice-looking Nordic silver claymore. As I didn't want to lug it all around the island, I left it there. I found some gold and some gems: those I took.

In the back of the barrow was something ... interesting. It looked like ice, but it was harder than ice ... much harder. I could not crack it with Chrysamere. I peered through its translucency and saw a skeleton inside. This strange ice thing was some sort of coffin.

I exited the barrow and continued on my way. The ground sloped up and I ascended a hill. The hill was topped by a circle of standing stones. I saw nothing of interest in the circle so I continued walking west, down the other side of the hill.

I found another barrow. The runes on the door indicated that I had found the Kolbjorn Barrow. There were no people here, save for the undead. I fought through these as I had the ones in the previous barrow.

I did not find the woman. As those draugr had only carried Oddfrid White-Lip off that day, I should have seen her or her recently-killed corpse. Maybe he had envisioned the wrong tomb?

On a rock in the center of the barrow lay a skull. Geilir couldn't have meant that this was his friend, could he?

The skull had no dust on it so it could not have been there for more than a few days. I put it in my pack.

My return to Geilir's cave was uneventful, save that the snow had stopped and the sun was shining brightly. The glare of the sun off the snow took some getting used to, but it was all still very beautiful.

"Rashelle, did you find her?"

"It depends ... "

I took the skull from my pack and said, "Is this her?"

His face lit up and he exclaimed, "Oddfrid, my friend!"

He took the skull from my hands. He looked so happy that I could not remain angry for having been sent on such a pointless quest.

"Oh thank you for rescuing her!"

He then spoke to the skull. "Oh Oddfrid, it's so good to be with you again!"

I remained silent.

"Oddfrid sees things," he said to me. "Sometimes she tells me them. She is grateful to you and will tell you of your future."

I nodded. I didn't really know what to think, yet alone what to say.

Geilir held the skull in both hands. He twitched and his eyes rolled up. In a different voice he began to speak.

"The time for the hunt is near. You are both hunter and hunted."

I didn't think he was faking it. It was rather creepy.

Geilir's trembled for a few seconds and then blinked.

"It always gives me the shakes to do that," he said in his normal voice.

I nodded.

"Here Rashelle, she wishes to communicate with you directly."

I raised an eyebrow and took a step back.

"She says it's, ummm, 'girl talk.'"

"Could you put the skull on the ground? I don't want to drop it."

He did so. I crouched down, took a deep breath to prepare myself, and put two hands on the skull, as he had done before.

When I had touched the skull before, to put it in my pack and again to hand it over, there had been no sense of any magic or anything else about it. This time it was different: there was a mental contact and the skull was talking to me, directly in my mind without sound! That Nord was not so crazy after all.

"Rashelle, Thank you for rescuing me and bringing me back to my Geilir. I know this is very strange for you but I really do appreciate it."

"You are welcome ... and yes this is rather unusual."

"As for a more personal glimpse into your far distant future, Rashelle ... there will be true love. Someone ... someone tall ..."

"... dark and handsome?" I interrupted. That was the oldest fortune-teller line in the book. This had gone from strange to ludicrous.

"No ... tall and light ... yes, lightness. They wait for you, though they do not realize it yet. That is all I can say."

I sensed that the conversation was over. I removed my hands from the skull and stood up.

"Can you please lift the curse now?"

"Of course, lass."

"Thank you."

I departed and returned to the coast. I found the outcrop but I did not see Thormoor Gray-Wave standing there. Had he disappeared? Had he fallen off the rock in a sudden onset of sleep?

I scurried up the big rock as fast as I could and discovered that he was still there, but not standing. He was lying there so peacefully, a smile on his tired-looking face. His chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed. The curse had indeed been lifted, perhaps instantaneously and without warning.

I was concerned that he would fall off of the outcrop in his sleep. I was also worried that there might be a creature in Solstheim capable of climbing and then attacking him. I tried to shake him awake but he remained in a deep slumber.

It was nearing the end of the day. For the sake of his safety, I decided to remain there. I ate some food from my pack and watched the sun set.






This post has been edited by blockhead: Jun 11 2007, 11:24 PM

[blockhead]

Chapter 3. Marisa



When I left the barrow it was shortly after dawn. I admired the snowy landscape as I walked north. The morning sun made golden highlights on the snow-covered trees. Again I was overwhelmed by the beauty of Solstheim.

The first attack of the day was a riekling.

A few minutes later a familiar looking Nord woman attacked me. She could have been a sister of those two that had attacked me the day before. Like the other two, she wore a fur shirt and the brown pants. Her boots were leather.

Unlike the two women yesterday, she was wearing a cuirass made from the carapace of a druegh.

She cast a spell to summon an ancestor ghost. It was just too bad for her that the ancestor ghost is the weakest of all of the summoned undead. One slice of Chrysamere and it dissolved away to nothing.

Apparently she didn't have enough magicka to summon another one because she took out a dagger and came at me. The weapon was familiar: it was one of those frost-enchanted daggers.

The two women yesterday had not been a isolated incident. The appearance of this third woman indicated to me that there was a group or faction of some sort. This group seemed to consist of Nord women who were murderously hostile to me, or perhaps to outlanders in general. It was a puzzle.

I dispatched her and continued on my way.

Another one of those women, two berserkers, and a several rieklings later I came upon a lake that was entirely frozen over with ice. I stood there for a long time in silent awe. Ahead of me stretched the geometrically flat expanse of light grey with piles of white snow on it. I had never before seen this much ice in one place. The frozen river that I had crossed a day or two ago was nothing compared to this. From what I had been previously told, I knew that this was Lake Fjalding, whose surface remained covered with ice year-round.

From the directions I'd been given by Joleen, the fact that I had reached the lake indicated that I was too far to the west. I needed to go east to find Thirsk ... but the ice fascinated me.

I carefully took a step onto the lake. From the other day I had the technique of walking on it but I walked gingerly in case I fell through: the combined weight of my armor and sword was considerable.

The ice supported me. It did not even creak under the weight. Thus reassured, I took some more steps. Here I was, actually walking on a huge sheet of ice. I was enthralled.

There was a white creature that I first thought was a small mound of snow until it moved. I remembered Reinhardt Red-spear explaining the various creatures of this region: what I had mistaken for snow was a horker. Reinhardt had explained that horkers are one of the few creatures in Solstheim that do not attack on sight.

The horker had three tusks; two large ones jutting out from the underside of its odd-looking mouth and one smaller one jutting from the top. The mouth was a sort of pinkish tube, as it was the only part of the horker not covered by fur. The head of the horker was slightly lighter than the rest of the body. Two small black eyes peered out from the head. There was no perceptible neck. The body was a light grey color. From the location where one would expect forelegs to be, the horker had two flippers. The flippers were of the same light grey as the body aside from black "points" at the tips.

There were no back legs: instead the body just tapered down until it it formed a flat tail, resembling a fish tail but aligned horizontally rather than vertically. The tail itself was black, matching the tips of the flippers.

It was by a combination of the flippers and an undulation of its body that the horker moved. I had been told that they could swim far faster than they could travel on land.

I approached the horker. It was so cute! Since it did not attack I crouched down and began to pet it. It didn't seem to mind. It made a sound like a groaning but not exactly. It raised a flipper and rolled to one side. I rubbed its belly. It made the sound again, but in a way that indicated pleasure. It waved the raised flipper.

Horkers are adorable!

While I could have stayed longer, I had made a promise to find Marisa. With regret, I left my new-found horker friend and walked off of the ice and back onto the land. Looking to the east and up, I could see a building on top of a hill. I did not know what a mead hall was supposed to look like, but the building was certainly large enough to be a tavern or an inn.

I ascended the hill.

As I neared the door I did not hear the expected sound of Nords partying. Of course, that would be explained by the fact that it was still morning.

After pausing to admire the view from the hill down to the lake, I opened the door and stepped inside. The inside was dark, very dark. There were torches here and there but after the bright sunlight on the whiteness of the snow, my eyes needed to adjust.

"Greetings," said a Nord woman all in fur armor. Her helm concealed her hair. "I am Ulfrun. Welcome to Thirsk. You should speak to Skjoldr Wolf-runner, our chieftain, as he wishes to meet all new arrivals. He's the one back there in that corner."

She pointed to a corner. A Nord man stood there. Near him was a bar. A woman stood behind the bar.

"I'm Rashelle."

"Good to meet you Rashelle."

She paused.

"One other thing," she said in a much quieter voice, "Watch out for Erich the Unworthy. He's the one over there."

She discreetly pointed to one of the men and continued; "He's a swine."

"Is he, now?"

"Yes, he and I ... that is ... well, he's a swine."

I nodded and then, in my usual subtle way, got to the point.

"Have you seen a Redguard woman come here in the past two to three weeks?"

"I may have seen her," she said with a sudden evasiveness. "I'm not sure I recall."

I would think she would remember a Redguard Imperial Cultist in a Nord mead hall. Something was fishy here.

I thanked her and strode towards the back, to where the chieftain stood. I approached him and politely introduced myself. He welcomed me to Thirsk and even offered me a mead. I declined: it was too early in the day to experiment with new alcoholic beverages. I do enjoy drinking but I set limits to it. I would try mead some other time.

He confirmed that she had been here but had little else to say beyond "perhaps she left," while glancing meaningfully at one particular person: Erich the Unworthy.

I thanked him and walked to the bar. The woman behind the bar wore a Nordic ringmail cuirass, wolf greaves and wolf boots. Like me, her arms were bare. Her blond hair was shoulder length and her eyes were hazel. Leaning against the wall behind her, yet close by, was an axe of a type unfamiliar to me.

"I am Svenja Snow-song. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Rashelle."

She lowered her voice and said to me, "Watch our for Erich the Unworthy. he's a foul beast."

I raised an eyebrow.

She changed the subject. "Don't you get cold walking around like that outside?"

"No, I like cold. I love snow."

She put a hand on my elbow. She ran her hand along my arm, up to my shoulder. She said, "You've just come in from outside, yet you have no goose-bumps: you're not cold at all."

I grinned. Nope.

"You're more Nord than I am!" she marveled.

We both laughed.

"Rashelle, would you like some mead? My treat."

"No, but thank you. It's too early in the day for me."

Svenja and I seemed to be getting along well, so I asked her about Marisa. Suddenly her friendliness was gone. She was unwilling to discuss the matter beyond conceding that Marisa had been here.

The people here were not telling me something.

I had been warned about Erich but the hint from the chieftain and my own intuition indicated that in order for me to obtain any additional information on Marisa, Erich was the one I would have to talk to.

I approached him and asked: "Are you Erich the Unworthy?"

"Hey there, pretty little thing, I'm more than worthy! Let me keep you warm." he said and then leered at me in a manner most disgusting.

"I'm searching for an Imperial cultist, a Redguard woman named Marisa."

"Ha! Yeah, she came here a few weeks ago. She was preaching at us to stop drinking mead. I didn't like what she had to say: it made me very angry. She just wouldn't shut up."

The tone in his voice gave me a strong suspicion as to what had happened. I began to feel a red rage. I'm sure my eyes now had the hardness of obsidian as well as the color.

"I've got the little tramp locked in my room," he continued. "I like to go up there and smack her around a bit, throw mead at her, do other things to her. I have her whenever I want."

He laughed.

"Once in a while I feed her."

I was so mad I could hardly see. There were now only two reasons why this man was still alive. First, there were too many people in the room who could come to his aid if I attacked him. Secondly, he could be lying. I had to see if she was really in his room.

"How interesting," I forced myself to say. It hurt.

He leered at me and said, "Want to come up and see? Then I can pitch you some woo! Take that play sword and that armor off and I can make you a real woman, like I do for her. You know you want it. Then you and her can get some g ..."

"Yes. Show me the woman." I interrupted.

He hesitated. He hadn't expected that. I was supposed to act horrified and then flee. I was not playing that game.

"Err."

"You do have her? You haven't been making this up, have you?"

He looked around. I didn't have to turn my head to know that everyone in the room was focused on our conversation. Nords are a a proud people. I had called Erich's bluff and now he had to do something to save face. There was nothing he could do, save to show me the woman. He was trapped.

"Follow me," he said.

He walked to a set of stairs. Since they were in a dark corner, I had not noticed them before. I followed.

We ascended.

He stopped by one of the doors and said, "Here we hare."

He seemed unsure of himself now, a bit hesitant.

I waited silently. I arced an eyebrow as if it say, "well?"

He dug a key out of a pocket and unlocked the door.

He opened the door and waved for me to enter.

"After you," I said coldly.

He entered. I followed and I beheld a naked Redguard woman tied to a bed by strips of cloth. She'd been beaten and even now I cannot bring myself to describe her condition. She looked at me with eyes dulled by the weeks of her ordeal yet still defiant.

"Let her go, now," I hissed.

He whirled around and actually tried to hit me. Presumably he had intended to use the element of surprise and knock me out. Then he would have two women to abuse.

I batted his fist aside and planted my own in his jaw.

He took a step back, looking a little dazed.

Quick as thought, Chrysamere was out. Erich choked his last and collapsed on the floor. I extracted my sword from the now-dead body.

I rushed to Marisa.

"Marisa, I'm Rashelle. I'm here to rescue you."

I couldn't untie the pieces of cloth so I used my silver dagger to cut them.

Once she was freed I handed her a potion.

"It's a Restore Health potion. Drink it."

She did.

"I've been kept prisoner for ... I don't know, I could not track the time, at least two weeks. He beat me and ... he ... raped me."

She could not continue. She began to cry. I hugged her.

"It's OK. I've killed him, I'm going to take you back to the fort."

I handed her a second potion.

"This is a Morning After potion. I think you need to drink it."

"Thank you," she gasped before taking it.

She made a face. I knew it was a horrible tasting potion, but one does not drink it for the flavor.

"He made me drink mead, nothing but mead."

There was a sound behind me. I turned to look. Svenja Snow-song stood in the doorway.

"What do *you* want?" I snapped.

"I want to help."

"That man was beating and raping her for two weeks: why didn't you help then?" I hissed. "How could you let this happen? You, a woman?"

"Let her help," said Marisa.

I nodded, grudgingly, to Svenja.

"Marisa, where is your robe?" Imperial Cult priests always wear robes.

"That's what he tied me up with."

She held up one of the pieces of cloth.

Svenja and I improvised an outfit from Erich's spare clothing.

Marisa started to cry again. "These clothes, th-th-they smell like him!" she sobbed.

It was time to go.

"Marisa, please tell me you can cast the Divine Intervention spell?"

She shook her head. Silly Rashelle: if she could cast that spell she would have done so weeks ago! I recalled a similar conversation with a Temple priest in Mournhold.

"Well, here, I will lend you this."

I handed her my Divine Intervention amulet.

She put it on and invoked it. She disappeared.

I turned to Svenja, who started to speak.

"I'm sorry, I ..."

I slapped her.

"You don't understand," she said. "He was my clan brother. I could not speak ill of him or harm him. We are like a family here in Thirsk. There are traditions, there are rules. Although at times they are ... problematic. Every one of us wanted to stop Erich but we could not."

I remembered some of my own experiences in House Redoran. Things had been going on and everyone knew, yet no one would speak of them. I recalled a particular duty given to me by the House that I had been obligated to carry out ... though I found it both distasteful and shameful. It had involved a dual and a "slander" that happened to be the truth. This memory allowed me to see Svenja's lack of action in a more forgiving light.

My anger vanished.

"Oh Svenja, I'm sorry I slapped you. Here."

I turned a cheek.

"No Rashelle," she said as she took my hand, "I don't want to slap you. A very bad thing has happened and you are justifiably angry. This is understandable."

I turned to her and nodded.

"Rashelle, they will all be grateful to you for killing Erich. He was a swine and we all wanted him dead. You won't have any further trouble here."

I nodded.

I withdrew my hand and and said, "By your leave, I will teleport out."

"Rashelle, don't think too harshly of us. Normally Thirsk is a good place. Please come back some time; you'll see."

"Perhaps."

She nodded.

I cast a Divine Intervention spell. Now I was in front of the Imperial Cult chapel in Fort Frostmoth. Marisa was standing next to me. I was surprised she had not gone inside straightaway. She handed me the amulet.

"Thank you, Rashelle."

"You're welcome. I was glad to do it. Let's take you inside. Where is your room?"

"No," she said, "I want to see Joleen."

I opened the door and we went in. We walked past a trooper and turned left, to the area with the Cult altar.

"Marisa!"

She ran into his arms. They both looked so happy.

"I'm so glad you are here with me again."

I decided that there must be something I had to do elsewhere so I left them alone. Later on Joleen told me that he was canceling missionary activities in Solstheim: I wholeheartedly agreed.







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