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 6. Smugglers



In the morning, I recalled to the fort. Carnias had no East Empire Company work for me so I then paid a visit to Captain Carius.

"Good morning Rashelle. Thanks once again for settling that supply problem. The morale of the troops has greatly improved."

I nodded.

"There is another matter that you could perhaps help me with."

I raised an eyebrow.

"As I said the other day; since you are civilian, the men will tell you things that they will not tell me. This has been useful to you already and I think it will be useful for this matter as well."

I waited silently for the actual details.

"Weapons are being smuggled from the fort. Presumably they are then being shipped off to Vvardenfell and sold there. I would like you to investigate this matter and then take whatever action is needed."

"You mean kill them," I said.

"Well, yes. This is a frontier fort so I can dispense with courts martial for certain crimes. You have my authorization to kill them."

"And if I choose not to kill them?"

"Rashelle; with a continued drain on our weapon supply, the fort could soon become helpless. The smuggling must stop ... and stay stopped."

"No. I've killed many smugglers but only because they were trying to kill me. I don't think it's such a crime that they need to be slain."

An angry look clouded his face. He opened his mouth, as if to order me ... then he froze. He must have remembered that I was a civilian and could simply tell him to get stuffed.

He closed his eyes. His hands clutched the side of his desk. He took in a breath, held it, released it. He opened his eyes.

I waited.

"Rashelle, I am sorry ... handle this however you see fit. All I want is for the smuggling of the weapons to stop. Could you please look into this for me?"

I nodded.

"Thank you."

He fumbled around his desk, picked up a quill and dipped it in an inkwell. He began to write on a sheet of paper.

"I'd like one of the troopers to assist you. Pick either Saenus Lusius or Gaea Artoria. They are both in the General Quarters below. Give this note to whoever you choose."

He finished the note and showed it to me. It read: "Assist Rashelle in the matter that she is working on. Accept her orders as my own. Try to avoid killing anyone."

It was signed "Captain Falx Carius".

I smiled and nodded.

He folded the paper, melted some wax over it and stamped the wax.

He passed me the sealed orders and thanked me again. I nodded and departed.

I was left with a bit of a problem. I had to choose one of two soldiers, and I could only give one of them the orders. I therefore had to assess both of them and make my decision ... before I could actually ask one to accompany me. Neither name was familiar to me.

I found Saenus Lusius first. Without showing him the orders, I introduced myself and spoke briefly to him of the smugglers. He seemed a level-headed sort. Presumably he had gone through the standard Legion training so he would handle himself in combat should it prove necessary.

I then spoke to Gaea Artoria. She was a woman so I made a tentative decision to take her along with me. As we conversed, however, I noticed that she seemed to be the reckless sort who tended to charge in with sword swinging ... much like myself. It would be a pleasure to fight at her side in a straight-ahead simple battle, but this was not a battle.

After thanking her for her time, I changed my mind: I would take Saenus. He was less impetuous and I wanted someone unlike myself to work with for this endeavor.

He had not gone far. Not wasting words, I simply handed him the sealed orders. He broke the seal and read the short note.

"Very well, then: what's the mission? Is it the smuggling that you spoke of before?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, smugglers. Bad enough the enemies outside but now we have problems within."

"You think it is an inside job?"

"Who else would be able to remove weapons from the fort?"

He had a point.

After some thought he continued, "Rashelle, if we are to trace the weapons, we should speak to someone who handles weapons. That would be the smith, Zeno Faustus, in the Armory."

"Sounds good. Let's go."

As we walked, I said, "As a cover story, we'll pretend that you are showing me around. Zeno will think you're trying to 'make' me, OK?"

Saenus actually blushed. Awww.

We reached the Armory and entered. The smith, Zeno, was where I had seen him the last time I had been here.

"... and here we have the Armory," said Saenus to me in his best tour-guide voice. With difficulty I refrained from giggling.

"Hello again, Rashelle", said Zeno. "Need more hammers?"

"Not at the moment, thank you."

"It's a shame there are not more weapons on display," said Saenus. "Zeno had some nice ones not so long ago, including that nifty silver axe I had mentioned to you before. I'd really been hoping to show it to you."

"Oooo," I said, following Saenus's lead. "I would love to have seen that."

I blinked and said to Saenus, "Do you suppose that the smugglers could have taken that silver axe?"

"Smugglers?" said Zeno apprehensively.

"Weapons are being smuggled from the fort," said Saenus. "Do you know anything about that?"

Zeno looked at Saenus, then at me, then back to Saenus.

"L-l-look, I'm not involved in the smuggling, but I hear things, you know?"

A pair of obsidian eyes and a pair of brown eyes transfixed Zeno.

Zeno sputtered.

I slowly drew my sword and said "I get to kill him now, right Saenus?"

I had not planned this part but Saenus was quick on the uptake and went along with it.

"No! Not yet. Remember our orders!"

"But I want to kill him!" I pouted. "You promised that if he was difficult I could kill him!"

"Rashelle: Zeno is not going to be difficult, he is going to tell us all he knows,"

he turned and continued, "aren't you, Zeno?"

Zeno was shaking now.

"Well, can't I just hurt him a little? Please? I won't break any bones."

I licked my lips. I was hamming this up a bit but Zeno was completely fooled.

"L-l-l-look," stuttered the now-sweating smith, "all I know is that some of the weapons have gone missing. I've seen men heading towards North East, probably to the Gandrung Caverns. They are not far from the fort. I'm not involved with the smugglers! I swear I'm not involved! I've just told you all I know"

"Damn, I guess I can't kill you after all."

He let a breath out.

"There there, Rashelle," said Saenus, "If we find that his information is wrong, you can still kill him later."

I grinned the nastiest grin I could manage and said "Excellent!"

Zeno looked like he was going to faint. I sheathed my sword. We departed from the Armory.

As we left the fort and headed towards the North East, I said "Thank you, Saenus, for going along with my sudden inspiration."

"That was great fun, Rashelle. You should have been in the theater."

In my previous travels I actually had passed close to the Gandrung Caverns, but had not realized it. The water near the fort was actually not a river but a short inlet terminated by a Nord barrow that was the entrance to the caverns.

We paused at the door, knee-deep in the water. I turned to Saenus.

"Remember: I don't want to kill unless it is necessary. I would like to sort this out by nonviolent means if possible."

"I understand and agree, but i need clarification: what if we are forced to fight?"

"Saenus, if you see anyone coming at you with weapons raised, you cut them down."

"Understood!"

We both smiled.

We entered. The inside resembled a Nord tomb as well.

From ahead, a rat ran towards us. Saenus silently darted ahead and skewered it on his Imperial short-sword. I approved of his silence.

He walked a few steps ahead. He then paused and pointed to the left. I walked to where he stood and I saw that there was a large hole in the left wall. It led to a cave. There was a rat in the cave and he charged at us. Saenus silently dispatched the creature.

Normally I follow left branches: but this time I motioned to continue ahead, along the non-cave passage. As in the other Nord tombs that I had explored, the corridor did not go on for long before it led into a small room. We killed the rats there. Presumably the smugglers had cleared any Undead out already.

There were a few piles of bones and some large stones that had been carved with decorations or obscure ancient runes. I had seen such stones in other Nord tombs and also in spots here and there on the surface.

Two truncated stone cones, topped with flames, did little to light the area.

Here was another of those ice, but not ice, coffins.

"Saenus," I whispered, "have you seen these before?"

He shook his head.

I put my hand on it. It felt cool, like real ice.

"I've been finding then in Nord tombs around here. They look like ice and are pleasantly cool like ice ..."

He shivered.

"... but they are much harder. My sword can not chip then or scratch them. Ah well, too bad."

Saenus was looking impatient so I turned my attention to the actual task at hand. He pointed back the way we had come. He wanted to now explore the cave. I nodded.

Stealthily we both crept towards the cave. I was impressed that he could move so quietly. Most Legion troopers are useless at sneaking: they are accustomed to charging in and fighting it out ... much like myself at times. This last realization bothered me.

We entered the cave. Another of those stone cone flames provided dim illumination in the cave.

I chopped another rat into two and we followed the cave as it narrowed.

We followed the cave as it bent to the left and encountered our first smuggler. He was facing away from us and looked very Imperial in his full set of uniform armor.

He whirled around and looked at us with a shocked expression.

"Mus! How could you?" said Saenus from my side. Apparently he knew this man: this smuggler therefore had to be a soldier from the fort.

Mus bellowed "We're being attacked!" at the top of his lungs as he drew a silver axe and rushed us. I give him credit for fast recovery time. Saenus raised his shield to block but Mus swung at me instead. Chrysamere parried, effortlessly batting his axe aside. Saenus used this opportunity to get a swing in: it clanged off of Mus's armor.

I evaded a swing and brought my sword down on his raised shield, shattering it.

His axe clanged off of my cuirass. I could feel that it had a paralysis enchantment. My birth sign did not absorb it this time, but the paralysis resistance conveyed to me by Almalexia handled it.

Saenus scored a hit, taking a chunk out of his armor. My claymore then clove his head in two.

"I can't believe that Mus Roscius was part of this." Saenus said.

"So he's in the Legion?"

"Yes: that means this smuggling operation is an inside job, as I had suspected."

We waited silently for a minute. I did not hear anything. Mus's shouts should have brought the others, from wherever they they were, down on us.

I crept stealthily ahead, Saenus behind me.

The cave descended, then leveled off again. After a short time, the cave branched: we could go straight ahead, or to the right and steeply down. I chose to proceed ahead, leaving the right passage for later.

The passage did not go for long. It terminated in a chamber with a wooden platform in it. The platform had a barrel with a lit candle on it, two bed-rolls and a rat. I slew the rat.

Since it was still quiet, we searched the room. There was a chest containing Imperial weapons and armor. The barrel had miscellaneous treasure, such as one would find in any bandit or smugglers cave. There was even a packet of moon sugar.

I showed a packet to Saenus and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.

We returned to the branching and descended.

There were two passages. I chose the right passage because I saw a figure there; a Redguard this time. He wore steel armor and an open troll bone helm.

He saw us, bellowed and raised his axe. It was silver and looked very much like the axe that Mus had used against us. I assumed it also had a paralysis enchantment. So much for talking to this smuggler.

I hit him with a fireball. Fortunately Saenus had not charged ahead, so I did not accidently burn him.

The Redguard reached us and chopped with his axe. Chrysamere smashed against his shield as Saenus swung with his sword.

I dodged the axe and kicked high, hitting him squarely in the chest. He staggered back and, before he could recover, his severed head flew through the air.

"Nice job, Saenus."

"So much for talking, eh?"

I frowned and replied, "I guess."

We retraced our steps to branching and took the other passage.

In a short time this led us to an opening into a larger cave. There was another of those Nord stones with fire on it and two Orcs in full Imperial armor.

"Hold!" I shouted. "I want to talk to you!"

"You will die!" they yelled in unison.

I sighed: how can one be nonviolent when everyone else is violent?

Saenus had some trouble: Orcs are renowned throughout Tamriel as very tough fighters. Fortunately, I was there: Orcs are no longer a challenge for me. I thrust with Chrysamere at the Orc in the imperial chain cuirass, punching through the chain mail and his heart, killing him straightaway.

Rapidly I extracted my blade and took the attack to the other Orc, who had just shattered Saenus's shield and was pressing his advantage.

My attack diverted the Orc, giving Saenus a needed respite.

The Orc swung, his sword bounced off my armor ... and again a paralysis enchantment hit me. I sensed a theme here. Despite my birth-sign and Almalexia's blessing, the paralysis took effect: I was motionless as a statue.

The Orc smiled and raised his axe. Suddenly, his head flew past me. Saenus had just recovered enough to decapitate the Orc for me. Nice timing.

The paralysis wore off. I handed Saenus a potion.

"It's healing potion; take it."

He thanked me and drank it.

"OK, Saenus: they are obviously not in a talking mood. They are beginning to annoy me. No more trying to be nice. Let's just waste 'em."

"I think you're right."

All attempts at sneaking abandoned, I strode forward. Bring them on: I was ready for action.

The cavern narrowed again. It widened again as it turned to the left.

We entered the last cavern. It was dead end. This chamber had a raised wooden platform. On the platform stood another Imperial in uniform armor, lacking only the helm.

I cast a fireball and ran towards him.

"No! No!", the man shouted. "Stop, Mercy!"

He dropped his weapon: a silver staff with a glow of enchantment on it that I suspected was paralysis. He fell to his knees. With difficulty I stopped my swing. I kicked the silver staff away. It clattered and fell off the edge of the platform.

"I appeal to your warm feminine nature: please don't kill me."

I laughed: I couldn't help it. It was just so ludicrous.

Chrysamere rested on one side of his neck, steady despite my laughter. Saenus's sword rested on the other side of his neck. Saenus looked to me. He was going to follow my cue: one signal from me and this smuggler would be no more.

The man looked scared. My laughter had probably instilled more fear in him more than anything else.

One of the beliefs that I share with my House is that an enemy who yields may not be slain honorably. I did not want to slay this man, but he did not know that.

"Hmm, let's see," I said, "I can kill you now. I could instead take you to the fort, where Carius will then kill you anyway. Seems to me, sera, that you are in a predicament."

"P-p-please, let me go. I'll never come back. I'll never smuggle again."

"So," Saenus said, "you'd prefer to live the life of an outlaw deserter than an honorable death? If we let you go now, and you are ever caught by the legion in the future, it will be the death penalty for you."

"Y-y-y-yes, please, let me escape! I'll take that chance! I don't want to die."

The man started to cry. I was flabbergasted. I had never seen an Imperial man in Legion uniform cry before. It was ... unnatural. It was as if water suddenly flowed uphill, or as if guars were to suddenly sprout wings and fly. I didn't know what to do. He continued to cry. The tears ran down his face.

"I-i-i I don't w-w-want to die," he sobbed.

As one, Saenus and I lifted our swords away from the sorry wailing Imperial.

With a surprising quickness, he leaped at Saenus and wrenched away his short-sword. My claymore sliced through empty air, too late to do any good.

"Suckers!" he shouted as he ran from the platform.

Without thought, fire came to me. A stream of flame found the running Imperial. He screamed briefly and then fell, quite dead.

"Stupid fetcher: I was just about to let him go."

I sheathed Chrysamere. Saenus picked himself and dusted himself off.

"Saenus, We've found the weapons and dealt with the smugglers. Let us return to the fort. I expect Carius will send a detail to haul all of this stuff back."

We returned. Captain Carius was pleased at our speedy and thorough handling of the matter.

"Rashelle, if you ever want to join the legion, please talk to me. You'd make an excellent trooper."

He meant it as a compliment, so I smiled.






This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 14 2007, 12:49 AM