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.


--
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]

Thank you all again for your comments.

Dire Cheesecake:

"Warm femenine nature" ... wow, that's just...

Rashelle has a very warm and feminine nature, when in the appropriate situation. That wasn't it.


Minque:

Good grief! Blockie my dear you are becoming a post-machine! Just finished reading these two latest installments and of course they are awesome...as usual! Rashelle really is a great woman and I do like her.

Thanks. It's a challange for me (a male) to write a female character, so to have positive feedback from a real woman is reassuring.


Jack Cloudy:

Nice stuff. Good dialogue with the Nord and Apronia. Too bad about the Bosmer captain though. I like Bosmer.

Sorry, here I was just following the way it went in the game. I think that's the only Bosmer death in the story, if it helps any.


Metal Mallet:

Another strong update. I too enjoyed Rashelle's interaction with our lone boat survivor. Excellently written. Keep it up!

Thank you. We'll be seeing more of Apronia. She's fun to write.

Carnius is also fun to write: he writes himself. I find myself having to hold him back, though. That poor desk, he keeps hitting it!


Metal Mallet:

This Hag situation is a rather neat side-plot. I'm very interested in seeing how Rashelle will solve this problem. Hopefully it won't require mass slaughter but if that's how things go down, that's how they go down. Excellent work!

I'm still working on the details of this plot so it's hard to say. It is one of two original (not in the game) sideplots so we'll just see how they go. I also hope to avoid another mass slaughter but ... well ... hey ... it happens.


And now ...

--

Chapter 9. Skaal



"More tea, Rashelle?" said Svenja Snow-Song.

"No, thank you."

Most of Thirsk was still asleep. I had risen early because I tend to do that anyway and because I had things to do. Svenja also was an early riser. She told me that she liked the mornings because she could get much of the administrative tasks of Thirsk done without interruptions.

Though Skjoldr Wolf-Runner was the chieftain, Svenja handled many of the day-to-day details of Thirsk operations. She tracked the inventory, ordered more mead as needed, and coordinated the occasional hunting parties. She was effectively his second in command.

"While Thirsk was originally founded by members of the Skaal, and while we are on good terms with them, there is not much to say about them. Their village is to the north. They respect nature and the wilderness. Wolves and bears in particular, they hold in high regard."

I nodded.

"As such, they might know more about these werewolves of yours."

"I'm just surprised that this happened though neither of the moons were full."

"Oh Rashelle, that whole moon phase thing is just folklore. Werewolves change every night."

I raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Maybe the werewolves in Cyrodill are different."

Indeed. Good to know.

"Silver hurts them. Any silver weapon does much greater damage than an equivalent non-silver weapon."

I nodded. That much I knew already.

"What do you know of the Fryse Hags?"

She told me what she knew, which revealed no new information save for one interesting fact: Hags would often lurk about near Fort Frostmoth and watch. When anyone left the fort, they would follow. A runner would be sent ahead to where the others waited and they would set up a trap. This shed a new insight as to last night's ambush. They may not have been hunting me in particular: they had simply attacked me because I had come from the fort.

While their murderous intentions were still a danger, I was nonetheless relieved to learn that it was not part of some larger scheme which targeted me in particular.

She sighed sadly and said, "I guess it's time for you to resume your trip to the Skaal."

"Yes, it is. Thank you for putting me up for the night, and for this wonderful breakfast, and for the conversation."

She smiled. "It was my pleasure."

She accompanied me to the door. I opened it and looked out upon a clean white landscape of snow and sunlight.

"Rashelle. Do take care ... and come back, OK?"

I smiled and said: "I will, Svenja. Thank you again."

I set off north again, with a spring in my step. I was glad that I had stopped at Thirsk. I felt much refreshed and I felt better about the people there.

With an astonishing rapidity, the clear sunny day turned to clouds, then to snow. I strode on, enjoying the sensation of the cold wind on my face & arms and the sight of the swirling flakes in the air. It was a good day.

After fighting a berserker, my thoughts wandered to the skull that I had been given at the fort. What would the reaction of the Skaal be if I tried to give it to them? I took the skull from my pack and examined it. It was a perfectly ordinary skull. There was no magic in it. There were no markings on it. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other skull: I could have obtained it anywhere. I'd look a right fool trying to give it to them. Yes, I was an Outlander, ignorant in their ways, but to try to pass off a skull as a gift would be an insult: it would show that I did not care enough to bother to learn their ways. A condescending and clueless individual might stroll into their midst and think to placate them with a simple skull ... but not I.

"Whoever you were, skull, I am sorry," I said as I placed the skull on the ground.

I continued on my way.

I was surprised when I found the Skaal village: it had not been as great a distance as I had expected.

The village had been built upon a plateau. There were many houses, constructed of a dark wood, some painted in cheerful bright colors that contrasted nicely against the white of the snow. Nords, some in dark fur robes, others in Nordic mail armor, walked about. They ignored me. Such a reaction did not offend me because this was exactly how it had been when I had first encountered the Ashlander camps.

As with the Ashlanders, I would have to carefully and politely work my way up the chain of command until I was allowed to speak to whoever they thought I should speak to, most likely either a person designated to negotiate with outlanders or the chieftain himself.

Using the logic that the fellows in armor were guards, I approached one of them first.

"Ha! That's hardly proper clothing for this weather, lass." He said.

He continued in a mocking tone: "Are you lost? Did you come here because you're freezing? Or did the big bad beasts bite you?"

"I am quite comfortable, thank you. I enjoy the cold."

He studied me, a perplexed look on his face.

"In this snow, with bare arms, you are not shivering ... not at all. 'Tis very unusual."

"Sera, I come here to ask .... "

He held up his hand. I stopped.

"You are a stranger here."

I gave him points for his powers of observation.

"You need to talk to our chieftain. He is in the Great Hall."

He pointed to a building. It was the largest one there: hence the name. I've never known a village or town to have a Tiny Hall or a Lesser Hall.

The guard continued. "His name is Tharsten Heart-Fang and he will know how to deal with you."

He rudely strode away as just I began to thank him. He wanted to offend me, to provoke me: it was a test. I grinned. This was just as it had been with the Ashlanders.

I approached and entered the Great Hall. The interior reminded me much of the interior of Thirsk. The most striking feature of the Hall was a large stuffed cliff racer that hung from the ceiling.

"Talk to the chieftain," said a guard in the hall before I could say a word. He pointed to a man near the back.

I approached the man and introduced myself.

"You are not of the Skaal. While the Skaal wish you no harm, you do not belong here."

"Chieftain of the Skaal, I come here in search of your wisdom. Yesterday, Fort Frostmoth was attacked by werewolves."

"Those Imperial fetchers. Always causing trouble."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look lass: you outlanders come in, take what you want with no consideration for nature. The land suffers. You throw off the great balance. The All Maker is displeased."

"Do you know anything about those werewolves?"

His face reddened.

"Are you insinuating that the Skaal are behind that werewolf attack?"

I sighed.

"No, muthsera, though some at the fort think so. I only want to ascertain what happened and why it happened and I thought that the Skaal, being more attuned to nature, would have some information."

"I do not know about your werewolves ... but this disturbs me. If werewolves really attacked your fort, where might they attack next? Would they attack us?"

I waited.

"The balance of nature has been disrupted by the Imperial activities. They come and they take the ebony from the ground. They cut down trees and they take and take. What they do not take, they destroy. There is much to atone for."

I frowned. I could not refute this.

He pointed to me.

"We Skaal are closely tied to the bears, to the wolves, to nature. The Imperial activities here have lessoned our power. You must restore the power of the Skaal by performing a ritual which will recharge the natural energies of the Land. The balance will be restored and the All-Maker will be pleased."

"Tell me what to do," I said.

He looked surprised. He had probably expected me to mumble an excuse and leave. While I did not know what this "All Maker" was, I agreed with everything that he had said about the Imperials.

"I deny nothing you are saying," I continued. "While I cannot stop the East Empire Company from establishing the colony at Raven Rock, I have been trying to reduce the amount of damage done. If this ritual furthers that aim, then I will do it."

"Maybe you are not so bad for an outlander, after all. You are different from the others I have encountered."

He paused, thinking.

Finally he spoke: "You should speak to the Shaman, Korst Wind-Eye. His hut is just west of the Great Hall. Tell him I sent you. He will give you more information. Do what he tells you to do."

"Thank you, chieftain."

He nodded and I departed.

I found the shaman in his hut. I introduced myself and then related to him my conversation with the chieftain.

"To restore the power of the Skaal, you must complete the Ritual of The Gifts."

I nodded. And?

"This will restore the Oneness, the balance. The Oneness is the balance and harmony of all things in the world given by the All-Maker. This delicate balance has been upset by the activities of the Imperials. To restore the Oneness will restore the power of the Skaal.

"The ritual of the Gifts involves six standing stones in various locations on the island. For each one, there is a corresponding quest or ritual."

He paused and walked over to a corner of the room and rummaged around. he eventually produced a book and returned. He handed me the book. It was titled "The Story of Aevar Stone-Singer" in Tamrielic. I opened it and was relieved to see that the text was also in Tamrielic: I could read this book. Much to my encouragement, the inside of the cover was a map of Solstheim entitled "Locations of the Stones." On it, each stone was marked. There were six stones: Beast, Earth, Sun, Tree, Water and Wind. I was very happy to see this: so many of my quests had started with only a terse verbal description of the location, with at least one step omitted and often with West and East confused.

"Rashelle. Study this book. You can stay here to read it if you would like. Come to me if you have any questions, then perform the rituals. The fact of you being an outlander should help the ritual. Outlanders caused this problem: it is good magic that an outlander is the one to fix it."

I nodded. I found a spot to sit and began to read.

The book detailed a previous occasion when the balance had been put off. The hunting had been bad and other things were going badly with the Skaal. The main character, though not a warrior, nor of great experience, had volunteered to go to each stone and perform the necessary ritual.

The book was entertaining and, more importantly, had a satisfying amount of detail as to how to go about the ritual for each Stone. Eventually, I closed the book, fairly confident that I now knew how to go about this task.

I bid leave of Korst and Recalled to Raven Rock.

I saw Falco and I approached him.

"Good afternoon Rashelle. How goes the werewolf hunt?"

"Haven't found them, or the captain, yet. I've been visiting the Skaal and I am doing something for them right now. Has anything happened here?"

"There have been no problems. Reinhardt has been a great help. His knowledge of this area has been very useful."

Looking past Falco's shoulder, I saw Reinhardt working on the roof of one of the buildings.

"I'm happy he is working out, Falco. I would hate to have recommended someone who turned out to be a problem."

"No, he's fine. Oh, and I've got Apronia doing odd tasks here and there. Nothing too physical or demanding."

I nodded and smiled. There but for the grace of Azura go I. What had prompted that weak city-bred woman to come to the frontier, anyway?

"What are you doing for the Skaal, if I might ask?"

"It may seem silly to you, but I have been given a quest to essentially purify the land, to magically undo some of the damage that our presence, and that of the Fort, has caused."

"Not silly at all," said Falco, "I don't argue with what works. We don't know everything about Nord magic and Nord gods."

I nodded.

"Rashelle, there is actually one small matter that I could use your help with. I've another decision to make. It is time to build either a trader's outpost or a smithy. I am not sure which will suit the colony better."

The smithy would allow weapons to be made and repaired here, without having to send for them. Then again, most people here on the frontier had already learned basic weapon repair.

A trader could carry a variety of goods, including armor repair tools. It seemed to me that the logical choice was a to build a trader's outpost.

"Falco, Let me think about this a few minutes and talk to some of the men. I'll get back to you shortly."

"Thank you, Rashelle."

I went into the mine and talked to men there. All I spoke to were in favor of the trader. Mining pick axes and tools would be available there. While in the mine, I was pleased to see how much the digging had progressed. The mine was now big enough that someone with a lesser sense of direction could get lost.

I returned to the surface and talked to everyone who was currently awake and outside. Some were in favor of the smithy. Beasts sometimes attacked Raven Rock so they wanted well maintained weapons available.

Apronia wanted a trader because she could then buy "nice things".

I refrained from rolling my eyes and again thanked Azura that I had turned out the way I had.

I then returned to Falco and said: "Trader."

He raised an eyebrow at my verbose and wordy response.

"Are you sure? Once Carnius is contacted to send the personnel over, we cannot change our minds."

"Yup."

"Very well then. Can you inform Carnius of this for me please?"

"I'm on it."

Carnius didn't seem to concerned about my decision. He gave me three hundred gold, however.

"Oh, and Rashelle?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"What's the deal with hiring that native?"

I scowled.

"What do you mean?"

"That Red-Spear chap. He's a savage. When corporate headquarters sent me his new-hire paperwork I almost exploded."

I glared.

"He has knowledge of the area," I said. "This benefits the project. Falco has already remarked upon his performance. He does his job well. What's the problem?"

"You bypassed me!" he shouted as he began pounding his desk. "I am Factor of Raven rock! I am in control! I give the orders around here!"

"Sera," I said as I adjusted the sheath of my claymore, "Answer me this: does Falco have the authority to hire new people?"

"Well yes, but ..."

"Then nothing against company policy has happened, has it?"

He glared. I'd made an enemy. I wasn't worried. I'd done the right thing and that was what was important.

"Go on then. Keep taking your orders from Falco. It just means more for me. Now get out!"

I left.

Falco raised an eyebrow when I related what had just occurred.

"As long as the profits come in, he should leave us alone. Still, we need to be wary."

I then departed from the colony: I had chosen to start with the Earth Stone, as the map in the book had indicated that it was not far from Raven Rock.

I strode northwest, through familiar territory. I had most likely walked past this Stone on more than one occasion without realizing it. This time I kept a lookout for any unusual or larger than normal standing stones.

In an area not covered with snow, atop a small hill, stood the stone. It was larger, yet narrower, than most of the standing stones scattered about the island. As anticipated, I had indeed walked past it previously. The large Nordic rune carved into the side identified it as the Earth stone.

I stood next to the stone and scratched my head. I'm here, now what?

I reached a hand out and touched the stone. Immediately, there was a sort of contact. There was a voice in my head: "Travel northeast to the Cave of the Hidden Music and learn the Song of the Earth."

This agreed with what I had read.

I waited a minute further, hand still on the side of the stone, but there was no more to the message.

I headed northeast.

Two attacking creatures later, I found a Nord barrow. The door to the tomb was spelled shut with spells that I could not break. I traced the runes on the door with my fingers, spelling out the name "Bloodskaal." This was not the place I was looking for.

I fought more creatures and crossed water once on my way. I eventually found what looked like another Nord Tomb. The runes on the door indicated that this was the Cave of the Hidden Music. I opened the door and stepped inside.

I found myself in what appeared to be a normal Nord tomb. Draugr threw themselves at me and I hacked my way through them. I soon found that the barrow was connected to a vast system of caves that took me some time to explore. There were many draugr and other undead and I dispatched them.

There was a decent selection of treasure, most of which I left there. I found some nice weapons and armor but I already had myself well-equipped in the armor department ... and few weapons approached the effectiveness or the beauty of Chrysamere.

A passage led to a deeper system of caves.

As I entered a widening of the passage, lit by some of those Nordic flame-topped stone cones, I began to hear sounds.

I progressed and the sounds became louder. They actually were becoming rather too loud for me but I gritted my teeth and pressed on. The sounds were a form of music, four tones repeated over and over again.

I actually became lost. My sense of direction is normally very good, even underground, but the strange sounding music disoriented me. I had trouble keeping focused.

Eventually, heeding the words of the stone and the book, I decided to follow the music, taking any turning where it seemed to be louder.

I winced as I entered a particularly large chamber. The music there was very loud. The stone of the cave itself shook with the sound: I could feel the vibration in the floor through my feet.

I saw the source of the music. There were three stalactites hanging from the ceiling. From them, in time with the music, shot bursts of steam.

Whatever it is I had to do, I wanted to do it fast: my head already hurt from the music. I watched and saw that the bursts of steam only shot from one stalactite at a time. I then realized that they corresponded to the notes being played. So while it was a four-note pattern, there were only three different pitches.

An impulse made me tap one of the stalagmites. I jumped back several feet when it immediately belched forth a stream of steam and a tone. Now it was clear what to do: I had to tap the lower ones to match the music from the upper ones.

I stood in front of the middle stalagmite, reaching out with my left and right hands to strike the corresponding left and right stalagmites, and using either hand for the center one.

Eventually I stumbled onto the right pattern of notes, playing the correct notes in time with those being played by the cavern. To my relief, the chamber became silent.

I rejoiced in the silence.

To my dismay, the music started up again. I groaned and then realized that it was now playing a second, different pattern. I cursed and then set myself to learning the new pattern. As I had with the first one, I matched the second pattern. The stalactites then returned to the first pattern, but played at a low volume. I imagined that the system of rock, steam and ancient magicka was somehow ... satisfied.

Through the twisty cavern complex I returned to the surface. I strode southwest and in a short time I had reached the Earth Stone. I could see that I had been successful in my endeavor, as the stone was now lit up by blue-green luminescent magic. It resembled bubbles rising from the ground, running up along the sides of the stone, and then disappearing. It was rather pretty.

I smiled and Recalled back to Raven Rock.







This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 24 2007, 03:39 AM