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 12. Ritual



It was early in the morning, not long after sunrise. Svenja and I were having a nice quiet breakfast by ourselves while the rest of the mead hall slept.

"Rashelle, today I am going with you to finish the Stones."

"Oh Svenja, that's wonderful!"

"And if we bag a snow wolf or two, so much the better."

"Svenja, it bothers me that the All-Maker appeared to me like that."

"Why Rashelle? This indicates approval of your quest: this is a good thing."

"Yes, but ... back in Vvardenfell, I've already had dealings with gods. I was chosen by Azura to perform a quest. She guided me through it. She interfered with my life, fortunately to my benefit ... but I do not wish to go through something like that again. I want to be ordinary, not an agent of another god. I don't want the attention of additional gods."

"Rashelle," she said softly, "When it comes to gods, we hardly ever have a say in the matter. I think that all you can do is to make the best of it,"

I frowned. She was correct ... but I was weary of gods.

"Anyway," she continued, "this is why I'm going with you. The All-Maker's use of my likeness seems to be a hint that I should be with you for the remaining Stones."

Having just finished the remainder of my porridge, I removed The Story of Aevar Stone-Singer from my pack and placed it on the table. I don't recall if I had ever tried porridge back in Vvardenfell. I was not sure I liked it at first, as its appearance was not appealing and its texture strange. I soon became accustomed to it, as the flavor was good and it was filling.

I opened the book to reveal the map.

"There are only two Stones left to do: the Beast Stone and the Wind Stone. The Beast Stone is not far from here so we'll go there first, OK?"

She nodded.

On the way to the Stone we stopped at Lake Fjalding to play with the horkers. I was on a quest and I had made a promise, but I had to see the horkers again. They are so cute and so friendly.

"They are adorable, Rashelle," said Svenja. "I've lived with them all my life so I guess I've kind of taken them for granted. When I was a little girl I used to play with them, like this. Thank you for refreshing my memory, Rashelle."

A horker groaned happily as Svenja rubbed its belly.

"You've got to stop to rub the horkers, Svenja."

Eventually we decided that it was time to go. I hugged the horker nearest to me and, with regret, stood up.

"Bye bye, horkers. I'll be back."

They raised their heads and groaned as if to say "farewell". So cute! Svenja and I strode back onto the land and we then turned north.

This Stone was closer to Thirsk than I had expected: we had actually not gone that far out of our way to see the horkers. I examined the Stone. On its side was carved what seemed to be a stylized picture of a bear.

"May I?" said Svenja.

I smiled at the sensation of deja vu and nodded. Just as her doppleganger had, the real Svenja placed her hands on the Stone. She shook her head after a minute.

"Nothing."

"Your twin tried that yesterday, with an equal lack of success"

She nodded and I then placed my hands on the Stone.

As before, there was a voice in my head. It said: "Travel south and ease the pain of the Good Beast."

From my previous reading of the story, I knew that we would eventually find a bear being attacked by rieklings. I contemplated running, so as to arrive and assist the bear sooner ... but I had a feeling that this would not be appropriate for the ritual: things had to be done a certain way. Side by side, Svenja and I strode south at a regular walking pace.

As we reached the lake, I beheld a strange sight: the horkers out on the ice were now lined up in two rows. These two rows were aligned north-south. It was as if they had formed a lane for us to travel along in our quest.

Neither Svenja nor I said a word. At a stately pace, we stepped onto the ice and proceeded along the path formed by the horkers.

When we reached the shore, I paused and looked back. The horkers were now randomly scattered about, as if nothing had happened.

"Rashelle," Svenja said. She tugged gently on my arm.

I nodded, turned and resumed walking. It had begun to snow.

In a short time we came upon a snow bear that was fighting three rieklings. Two dead rieklings lay nearby: the bear had killed them already.

We ran forward. My friend's axe decapitated one riekling as Chrysamere sliced another in two. The third riekling swung his blade at Svenja. She parried and I thrust with my claymore.

I extracted my blade from the now-dead riekling and looked around. There were no further attackers. The bear writhed in pain: there was an arrow embedded in its neck. I'd never seen a riekling use a bow before. Who, or what, had actually shot that arrow?

I dropped my sword and crouched down by the struggling bear. Without conscious thought, words came from my mouth: "Good Beast, I mean you no harm. The All-Maker has sent me to ease your suffering."

The snow bear became still. I placed both hands on the the creature and ... I hesitated. I was not sure if my healing spells would work on a bear. I had never attempted to heal an animal with a spell before.

Suddenly, a healing magic poured from me into the bear ... but it was not my magic: something else was working through me. The arrow was expelled from the bear's neck. The wound in its neck closed up and faded away. Similarly, its other wounds were healed.

Restored to full health, the creature rose up on all four feet. It rumbled softly, as if thanking me. I ran my hands though its fur. Snow bears are kind of cute ... when they are not trying to kill me. For today, we were friends.

I stood up. Svenja handed Chrysamere to me. It was clean: she had wiped it on the clothing of one of the rieklings.

"Thank you, Svenja."

The snow bear raised a forepaw and pointed north. Between this and my previous reading from the book, the message was clear: we would walk with the bear to the Stone.

The snowfall was thicker now, though there was no wind. I sheathed my sword and placed my left hand on the snow bear, as I was standing on the bear's right side. Svenja was standing to the left of the creature. She placed her right hand on the bear.

At a sedate pace, the three of us walked north. The air was filled with snow and it was beautiful. The snow also muffled all sound. We walked though a silent white world.

As we reached the lake, I could see that the horkers were in formation again. The Good Beast lead us onto the lake. The horkers all raised their tusked mouths in the air and began to issue their groaning sounds, but in unison, all at an identical pitch. They were singing! There were no words, obviously. It was an undulation that moved to various pitches, and it entranced me.

It seemed as if we were no longer in Solstheim, or in Tamriel. For a time we were in another reality, a magical white wonderland of snow and ice and song.

We moved forwards on the ice. The snow continued to fall. The song carried on.

I feared that on reaching land, the song would end, but it did not.

We continued to walk. The land sloped up towards the Stone and the song went on. Dimly I was aware that horkers were following us out of the lake.

The snow bear led us to the stone. I took my hand from the creature and took a step forward. I could see that Svenja had done the same thing. As one, we placed our hands on the Stone.

The Stone began to ring, a sound in tune with the song of the horkers. Without thought, I opened my mouth and joined the song. I could hear Svenja also begin to sing.

The Stone began to glow. Glowing balls of white, suggesting snow, if snow were to glow, began to rise along its sides. The horkers, Svenja and I stopped singing. The world returned to silence.

The glow faded, but the glowing balls continued to run up the sides of the Stone.

The Good Beast turned around to face me. It nodded its head. It looked to Svenja and nodded again. It then vanished into thin air.

I turned to Svenja. She looked at me in wonderment. I imagine my face held a similar expression. Turning towards the lake, I could see that the horkers were wandering back to the ice ... as if nothing had happened.

The snow stopped falling and I could see the cloud cover begin to break: the sun would be shining soon. I sat down and rested my back against the Stone. Svenja sat down beside me.

This was part of the reason I was an adventurer: to experience such truly unique and magical moments. Moments like this were far and few between but they made the intervening "in between" time worth it.

"Svenja: that wasn't in the book."

She started to giggle. I smiled. I started to giggle as well: I could not help it. Svenja slapped my shoulder: she was now laughing, rather loudly. I don't know why we were laughing, perhaps a reaction to that utterly strange occurrence, perhaps a sort of tension release. I was now laughing to hard that I was having trouble breathing. In no time at all, we were both hiccupping and tears were running down our eyes.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and could breath again.

"Well, Rashelle," said Svenja as she wiped her eyes, "you sure know how to show a girl a good time."

I smiled and said; "We should be going again."

"Yes, I guess we should."

I wiped my eyes. The sun was now shining and the last shreds of the clouds were fading away. I wanted to stay, seated and leaning against the Stone. I wanted to meditate upon what had happened, but there was still one Stone remaining.

I forced myself to stand up. I extended a hand. "Time to go."

Svenja grasped my hand and pulled herself up.

We walked in a direction somewhat north of true west. We fought through many attackers. Most of them were rieklings, which indicated that we were moving into riekling territory. Svenja was expert with her axe and my blade was as effective as ever.

The Wind Stone rose from the snow covered rocky side of a mountain. A representation of wind had been inscribed in its side. I placed my hands on the stone.

"Travel south and east of the lake of ice to Glenschul's Tomb and free the Winds from the Greedy Man's bag."

"Svenja," I asked, "do you know of a Glenschul's Tomb somewhere southeast of lake Fjalding?"

"Yes, Rashelle. It is not far from Thirsk, just over a steep hill. The Stone wants us to go there?"

"Yes."

It was a long trip. Since we were simply retracing our steps of before, there were few attacks.

When we had arrived within sight of Thirsk, I saw that Svenja was looking towards the mead hall.

"Svenja," I said, concerned, "if you need to get things done, I would feel bad if I were to keep you away from them. I can continue this alone."

"Don't worry Rashelle. I've told the chieftain that we would be gone all day. I can't stay in there all the time. Besides, I can't wait to see what happens next."

"After singing horkers, anything else will be anticlimactic."

She grinned.

We continued, past Thirsk, heading southeast.

As Svenja had said, the tomb was not far from the mead hall. We fought a group of rieklings as we went around a hill and into a sort of canyon or passage that separated it from a second hill. In the side of this passage was the entrance to the tomb. Its outside appearance resembled that of any other Nord barrow that I had seen.

We entered, to be set upon almost immediately by a pair of draugr. We fought through those and then through the remaining undead occupants. It was a small tomb, so it did not take long to clear it out.

"This appears to be an ordinary Nord tomb. Where is this wind?"

"Rashelle, I don't remember this part of the story. Maybe you should consult the book."

I snapped my fingers and said "no, wait ... I remember now. The voice from the Stone mentioned a bag."

I pointed to a bag that was resting against one of walls, by one of those not-ice coffins. It was unusually large and it bulged. The neck of the bag had been tied tightly with a rope.

"That has to be it. We untie that bag and let the wind out."

I approached the bag and touched the rope.

"Svenja, brace yourself."

"OK."

I opened the bag and, as in the legend, a wind that had somehow been held inside the bag was released. It howled and knocked me over as it blew past. Fortunately, I was unharmed. Svenja helped me up.

"Thank you Svenja."

I pointed to the coffin. "What is that stuff, anyway?"

"Stalhrim."

"Err, but what is it?"

"I don't know. No one knows how to make it anymore."

Intriguing.

Our journey to the Wind Stone was uneventful but long. The sun was low on the horizon when we finally arrived. Of all the Stones, this one had the greatest distance between it and its corresponding place of ritual. Rising along its sides were bubbles. They were white with a bluish tinge to them and they glowed brightly.

"Success!" Svenja exclaimed.

"All six Stones have been activated. The Ritual is complete."

"The All-Maker must be pleased."

Svenja turned from the Stone.

"Come with me to Thirsk again?" she asked.

"No Svenja. Much as I would like to, I have obligations at Raven Rock."

She frowned.

"Svenja. I want to protect Solstheim. I want to reduce the amount of damage that the Empire does. That is why I have to go back to the colony: I have to keep an eye on them. You will benefit from this, as will the Skaal."

"I understand. Please do come back, though."

"You know I will. By your leave, I will teleport out?"

"Yes, I and will Recall to Thirsk."

We cast in unison and I appeared in Raven Rock. Falco almost ran into me. He jumped almost a foot in the air. "By the gods, that creeps me out."

I laughed.

"Rashelle, it is good to see you. I have something to show you, follow me."

"What is it?"

He smiled, a big grin like a child wanting to show off a new toy. "You'll see."

I had been away from Raven Rock for almost two days and I could see that there were changes: there were more buildings and the communal fire was gone. I would miss it. Falco, sill grinning, led me to one of the new buildings. He opened the door and he actually bowed and waved for me to enter.

I entered to find myself in ... a bar. Now the memory came back to me: when I had left, the men were working on a bar. Now I was standing in that fully completed, open and occupied building. It was not Thirsk, but it was a pleasant place anyway.

The staff working in the place were all new people. Our colony was growing, changing from a small band of men, and two women, who sat around a fire at mealtimes ... to something that felt more like a town.

I went to the bar. The bartender was an Imperial woman with red hair.

"Greeting, I'm Alcedonia Amnis. What will you have?"

"I'm Rashelle. Mazte, please."

I could see that Apronia was seated at one of the tables, a real fork held daintily in her hand, eating in a ladylike fashion from an actual plate. She smiled and waved to me.

I went over to her. As there were men seated next to her on either side, I could not sit. I only wanted to chat briefly with her, so this was good.

"I'll bet you enjoy having utensils again"

"You know it, Rashelle. It's so good to feel somewhat civilized again."

"Are these guys giving you trouble?" I asked.

She laughed. "No. All is well."

I went go get food. There was a festive atmosphere tonight: most likely because we could now all eat inside.

At some point in the revelry I happened to find myself seated next to Falco.

"Falco, have there been any more deaths? Has Carnius pulled anything else?"

"No. All is going rather well ... about time, that!"

I grinned.

"By the way, Rashelle, I haven't had a chance to let you know, but I've promoted you several times since we started. The gold for the salaries came in on the ship today: I can pay you tomorrow and it will be a decent amount."

"Thank you Falco; this is good to know."

The money was of no consequence to me. The rank, however, was important in that it would allow me to have more control over how things were done at the colony. I would have more influence. Higher rank would let me eliminate or reduce the damage done to Solstheim, Thirsk, and the Skaal.

I looked around the room, taking it all in. A mere few days before, this had been a patch of snow and trees. I then realized that I did not see Apronia anywhere.

"Where's Apronia?"

"Went back to her house early, I expect," said Falco.

Strange, but she had been doing that every night since her arrival. I shrugged and went to the bar for another mug of mazte.






This post has been edited by blockhead: Jul 24 2007, 03:55 AM