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 8. Attack



"Go tell Carnius about the ship. He'll need to know. In the meantime, some of the men and I will go to the shipwreck and see to the dead and to the supplies on board."

"Right, Falco. I'm on it."

I cast Divine Intervention and was teleported to the fort.

I saw Severia. She smiled and greeted me; "Hail, Rashelle! How can I help you, my sister-in-arms?"

"Hello, Severia. Good to see you again."

I told her of the shipwreck and that I was on my way to bring the news to Carnius. She bid me good afternoon and I entered the Imperial Cult building.

"Good afternoon, Rashelle," said Carnius after I entered his office. "Have you the manifest?"

"Carnius, the ship was wrecked. It ran aground on the west coast."

He swore and pounded his desk with considerable force. The man was stronger than he looked.

I waited.

"Thank you for informing me of this."

He swore again.

"It's setbacks like this that bother me! I hate things that I cannot control!"

I remained silent.

"I'm sorry Rashelle, this news has just upset me."

"Understandable. All but one on board were killed."

"Now, I'll have to charter another ship for the run. That's going to eat into my profits. Well, I've no work for you at the moment. Thank you, Rashelle."

I nodded and left. Carnius had been unconcerned about the people who had died. I also disliked the fact that he had said "my" profits. Just then, I had seen part of the "real" Carnius coming through. I didn't like it. I was glad that I had allied myself with Falco.

I stood outside and looked up at the sky again: there was not much daylight left. I wondered if I could treat myself to dinner at the fort before heading back to Raven rock. The colony could function without me for an hour or so.

Looking to the north archway, I saw Reinhardt Red-spear. An idea formed in my mind and I walked over to him.

"Still interested in some work?"

"Aye, lass, indeed I am."

"Can you handle a pick axe?"

He nodded.

"Can you cook?"

He nodded.

"How do you feel about the Raven Rock colony?"

He sighed. "It was unavoidable, I suppose. The ebony there was going to attract the Empire eventually. I just hope they don't damage the land too much."

"If you were to work at Raven Rock, you could help to lessen the negative impact. I've been working there the past few days. We could use the help."

"That Carnius fellow won't hire me."

I smiled.

"Don't you worry about that. Go there now and speak to Falco. He's the Imperial in the armor. Tell him I sent you. Mention 'kill it and grill it' and he'll know that I sent you."

He raised both eyebrows.

"Kill it and grill it," I repeated. "Got it?"

"I don't get it, but I got it."

"Excellent. I'll see you there at some point."

He strode off towards the west. I estimated that he'd get there shortly after sunset.

I ran into Saenus Lusius. He told me that most of the smuggled weapons had been moved from the caverns back to the armory.

Procis Catraso waved from where he paced atop the wall. Obviously, he had watch duty again. I returned his wave and then turned to walk towards the Cult building again: I would see if more of certain ingredients had arrived.

"Rashelle."

I turned and there was Severia again.

"Have you time for dinner?"

"I was thinking of that before, actually," I said, "but I really need to clean up first."

"No problem, follow me."

She led me to an area of the fort I had not yet explored. We stopped at a door. Severia knocked imperiously and shouted "Female officer present! You have thirty seconds to clear out!"

I jumped. Imperials, when they want to, have a way of commanding with their voice. Her military training had probably enhanced this talent. Even though I knew of this ability, it still affected me.

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She grinned knowingly and said nothing.

The door banged open and a wet Dunmer partially in uniform armor scurried past us, pausing only to salute Severia. He carried a towel and the rest of his apparel.

"After you, Rashelle."

I entered and found myself in a stone room. There was a rack of towels to one side. Buckets, some filled with water, lined a wall. Three wooden tubs were against the far wall.

"Cold water only, but I expect that won't bother you. The soap is over there." She pointed. "I'll stand watch as you wash up."

"Thank you."

I stripped and washed the worst of the dirt off. After I dried myself and dressed, I felt a new woman.

"Thank you, Severia."

"There's still a little time before dinner starts. I'm doing my rounds. Walk with me?"

"Rounds?"

"It is always a good idea for me to randomly poke around the fort every few hours. I do rounds several times a day. Knowing that an officer could appear anywhere, at any time, keeps the troops out of trouble."

I grinned and said, "Nice."

I accompanied her. She took me through areas of the fort that I had not yet explored. She gave me a running commentary as we patrolled. It was very interesting, full of gossip and snippets of useful information.

Dinner was not the festive party that it had been the last time, as that had been a special occasion ... yet it was still pleasant. The food was certainly better than what I'd been eating the past few days.

The sun had already set as we exited the mess hall, sober this time.

"Thank you again Severia. I've got to go back to the colony now. There is so much work to be done."

"I understand: duty calls."

I heard a deep howling, as if a pack of ... large .. wolves were nearby.

"Werewolves!" shouted one of the men from atop the wall.

Quick as thought, I drew Chrysamere. Severia had her blade out as well.

Through the archways they came, larger than wolves. Unlike natural wolves, they ran like men, on two legs. They were fast and upon us in an instant.

Once again I stepped into the fray, my claymore swinging in long arcs as it cut through werewolves. Individually, they were not so formidable, but in pack like this they were quite deadly. As I cut one down, another slashed at my cuirass.

I threw the the body of one just-dispatched creature at a second one. Claws from another attacker only missed my face because I pulled my head back rapidly.

I kicked a creature that had been menacing Gaea. I then felt a impact from behind and I was suddenly down, a werewolf on top of me. It snarled. I wriggled and twisted over to get at him. An arrow suddenly appeared in his eye, presumably from one of the troopers on the wall. It was a good shot: the arrow had found the brain, killing the beast instantly.

I pushed the now-dead werewolf away from me. Another one attacked me. Still on the ground, I rolled rapidly to one side and thrust with Chrysamere. I yanked my blade from the body and stood up.

Something hit my cuirass: another attack from behind. I whirled around to see another creature. I slew it and then looked for the next one.

Saenus was fighting two werewolves and I could see that he was bleeding. I ran to assist him. With one swing, I decapitated one of the creatures. He then was able to finish the other one.

"Many thanks, Rashelle."

There wasn't time to hand him a potion: we were both immediately engaged in further combat.

As I fought, I could see that some of the bodies of the dead creatures were shimmering and changing. I tried to not let this distract me as I severed an arm from another werewolf. He howled in pain and fell. As I dispatched him, I noted that some of the bodies had finished changing and were now naked Nords. On death, their lycanthropy ended.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. I slowly turned and surveyed the aftereffects of the battle.

The well in the center of the fort had been damaged, its roof torn away. The doors to each building had been demolished: some werewolves must have gone inside. The stone walls were obviously undamaged: while werewolves are strong, even the strongest claws cannot break stone.

There were dead naked Nords all around me, as well as some dead and wounded troopers. I gave potions to the wounded. Joleen and Marisa were also outside now, also handing out potions or simply applying healing spells, depending on the severity of the injuries.

"Rashelle,"

I turned to see Gaea and Severia approaching me.

"Thank you for your help," said Gaea. "You've saved many lives. We have an additional problem, though. Captain Carius is missing."

"Was he killed?"

"No; missing. We've done a quick search: no body. Werewolves were seen running up the stairs heading for his office. They never came back down. They have not been found, nor has the captain. It looks as if they kidnapped him and were somehow teleported away.

"Rashelle, I need to find out where those werewolves came from. Are they going to come back? Were they sent by someone? Though I cannot be sure, I suspect that the Skaal are behind this."

Again, mention of the Skaal: I really needed to pay them a visit. I was tired of hearing rumors about them: I wanted to see for myself what they were really like. Perhaps they could even provide me with information on the Fryse Hags.

Gaea continued; "I would like you to go to the Skaal, gain their trust and get them to talk to you."

She handed me ... a skull.

I looked questioningly at her.

"We found this skull in a Nord tomb. If you return it to the Skaal, they might be more inclined to talk."

I took the skull. That seemed to be weak logic but I would do it.

"Thank you Rashelle. I would like you to head out first thing in the morning, if that is OK with you."

"I'll go now. The wounded have been attended to and I see no reason for me to wait."

"Are you sure? It's dark now."

"Yes."

"Good luck, Rashelle."

I cast Recall and was teleported to the colony. Falco had returned from the shipwreck so I was able to talk to him. He had already put Reinhardt to work. I thanked him and updated him regarding events at the fort. Lastly, I explained that I would be away for a time.

"Rashelle, I understand. For all we know, those werewolves could attack us here in Raven Rock next. It is best that you go to the Skaal and sort things out."

I cast Intervention and returned to the fort. I then left through the north arch.

I walked for an hour or so. The only novel happening was an attack by a snow wolf. Like the snow bears, they can cast frost damage spells.

It was getting late but still I pressed on: I was not in the mood to stop just yet and the light from one of the moons (the other was not up yet) reflected off of the snow on the ground, casting everything in a glowing blue hue and providing some illumination. With all of the snow in Solstheim, it almost never gets truly dark.

I marveled at how snow made everything look better. I tried to imagine what the Ashlands would look like if they were covered in snow.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rapid clomping of hooves: two frost boar, rode by rieklings. I took a few minutes to fight them and then continued on my way.

I entered an area where there were more trees, thickly grouped together. They were snow covered, and they were beautiful in the moonlight.

An instinct warned me, but it too late: a net dropped down on me. Weights on the edges of the net had sped its descent and now kept it down. I slashed with my claymore but of course that did not work.

Out of the woods, on all sides, rushed many Fryse Hags. From above, another hag tackled me. Presumably, she had thrown the net.

Fire came to me, as that seems to be the one magic that I can perform without conscious thought.

I rolled on the ground, through the pieces of burning net. My fist smashed into the jaw of the Hag that was on top of me.

I felt several frost-enchanted daggers and one spark-sword cut into me, yet still I fought on. Rising, but not yet standing, I beheaded one hag. My foot shot out and kicked another one.

I was standing now. One leaped for me and I skewered her on my blade. A dagger dug into me as I was pulling my sword free: she'd slid it between the cuirass and my shoulder. My birth sign absorbed the enchantment but the blade had pierced deeply. A wave of pain rushed through me but I did not have time to heal it, or even to remove the dagger.

Silently I slashed at her. She dodged back as another dagger bounced off of my cuirass.

I cast a fireball and another Hag was out of the fray, screaming horribly as she burned.

There was a pause. The four remaining Hags warily circled me, out of my reach. I turned and glared. The dagger was still embedded in my shoulder.

"Who's next?" I hissed.

One rushed towards me. She impaled herself on my sword. I don't mean this as a figure of speech ... this one looked me in the eyes and actually, in a purposeful manor, ran into my blade. Her eyes dulled with pain, yet she somehow pressed herself forward a few inches more before dying.

The others attacked. As my sword was entangled, I was at a great disadvantage. That Hag had killed herself just to make it easier for the others to attack me. This was a disturbing realization.

I threw the body, with Chrysamere still embedded in it, at one of the Hags. I would have to finish this without my claymore. Dodging to the right, I elbowed the rightmost Hag aside. I then grasped the leftmost Hag's dagger-hand wrist and jerked as hard as I could. My muscles bulged, the pain in my shoulder made me see stars, and she went flying. I heard a thunk and a snapping sound.

I spun and kicked one of the two remaining Hags. The other one slashed at my arm. I punched her once in the stomach, then the jaw. I chopped at her throat with the edge of my hand. She fell and made a gasping and wheezing sound.

The Hag that I had kicked, just before, came at me again with her dagger raised. I kicked once and the dagger was gone. I kicked again and she was down. With a dagger pulled from a corpse, I slashed and she was dead.

I then dispatched the gasping Hag.

I looked around for the Hag that I had thrown, as I expected her to return and resume her murderous intentions. She lay dead by a tree, her head at an unnatural angle: she'd hit the trunk and snapped her neck.

Finally I was able to pull that dagger from my shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound. I poured one healing potion directly on the injury and then drank a second potion.

I retrieved my sword and wiped it clean on the fur shirt of one of the Hags.

I'd never encountered so many Hags at once before. That net had been a new trick. Were they now hunting me? But how could they? Every Hag that I had encountered I had killed: word of a strange Breton in ebony could not get back to the other Hags.

Then I recalled the one Hag who I had not killed. She was the one that I had tried to talk to the other day. It looked as if my merciful impulse had almost gotten me killed.

But that was paranoid! Why would a bunch of psycho Nord women want to ... hunt me. I was not important. In Vvardenfell I was the Nerevarine but here I was nobody: there was no reason to focus on me. Then again, if I were really dealing with psychos, their reason would be unfathomable to me.

There was no rational reason to believe that the Hags were hunting specifically for me ... but I had a gut feeling. I knew that they were hunting me ... as if I were an animal. A rage began to build. This animal has claws. I would take the hunt to them. If it was war they wanted, then I would bring it to them.

I contemplated commencing my Hag hunt immediately, wandering the entire night, hunting and killing as many as I could find.

Reason reasserted itself: I had made a promise to find the Skaal village and ascertain about the captain and the werewolves.

I keep my promises: I do not go back on my word. I value this more than anything. Money is ephemeral. Possessions can be taken. Your word is all you have. If you break that, you have nothing. I continued to travel towards the Skaal village.

It was late when I reached Thirsk. I could possibly press on and reach my destination, most likely before dawn ... but I don't think a tired-looking Breton would make a good first impression.

I looked at the mead hall and dithered. Marisa had suffered here. I'd already killed one of their own. I had no good memories of this place. Still, the chieftain had seemed a decent sort, as had Svenga Snow-Song.

But could I forgive the rest of them for what had happened?

I recalled my last conversation with Salas Valor. His ghost had forgiven me though I had slain him. The victims of the ash storms had forgiven me. Marisa had forgiven Svenga. If Marisa, the actual victim, could forgive ... then I should be able to as well. Still I hesitated.

The night had gotten cold, too cold even for me. While I had kept moving it had not been that noticeable but now that I had stopped, I was uncomfortable.

Through the clear cold night air I could hear singing from inside Thirsk.

Outside, cold and dark. Inside, warmth, song and light.

Focus Rashelle. Focus.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The hall was as I had remembered it, though this time it was crowded: the party was in full swing. Nords, both women and men, stood near the center of the room or sat at tables near the side, singing. Here and there some had passed out.

They saw me.

The sudden quiet was a palpable shock. They had all stopped singing, save for one very drunk woman who song a few more words and then stopped, looking around in confusion.

"washh gon on?" she said. She belched and put her head on the table.

You could cut the tension with a dagger. Would I have to fight after all? I really did not want to.

From the crowd in the middle strode Skjoldr Wolf-runner, the chieftain of Thirsk.

"Rashelle, I am glad to see you. you have done a great service to Thirsk. I am grateful. Welcome."

I waited. We all waited.

"Lass, can you forgive us?"

He paused.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked.

"I'm not sure if I can."

Silence.

"But I will try."

He grinned and said, "Thank you."

The festivities resumed. Seemingly out of nowhere, Svenja Snow-Song appeared and hugged me.

"Oh Rashelle, I'm glad you came back. Really, I am."

I smiled. I was glad to see her again.

"What will you have?" she said. "Whatever you want, it's on the house."

"All I want right now is a warm place to sleep."

"You do look tired. Let's see what we can arrange."

She put an arm around me and steered me through the crowd. We reached those same stairs. I halted and then drew away from her.

"I do not have a happy memory from up there, Svenja."

"I know, but you've killed that swine ... for which we are all thankful. Things are better now, you'll see."

She took my hand and said, "Come on. It's OK."

She pitched her voice like a herder coaxing a skittish guar.

"Please," she said. "It will be OK."

She tugged gently on my hand.

I nodded. She led me up the stairs.






This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 24 2007, 03:34 AM