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 15. Attack



Svenja was up and giving orders, and the people of Thirsk obeyed joyfully. I had feared that they would view what had happened to Svenja as a sign of weakness and would no longer follow her lead, but this was not the case. All were glad that she was back to her old self.

"Come with me, Rashelle."

I followed her into the mead hall. As the man yesterday had told me, the interior was a mess. All of the furniture had been smashed into kindling. There were dead bodies and severed limbs strewn about. The stairs to the upper level had been ripped out. Some of the support pillars had even been destroyed.

"Rashelle, I just had a thought. Could you levitate upstairs and see if anyone has been trapped up there?"

I nodded. I cast the spell and floated up. Quickly I checked the upper level. I entered each room, picking locked doors where necessary. No one had been left behind. I returned to Svenja with the good news.

She led me towards the back.

"we'll drag those bodies out later: they are not in a hurry any more. Help me clear some of the debris. I need to reach the bar."

When we had cleared a way to the back, she went behind the bar and bent down. She reappeared, holding a chest.

"We'll use the gold in here to hire workers. We will begin repairs today."

I nodded.

"Help me find my axe."

We searched the wreckage and eventually found it.

"Svenja?"

She looked questioningly at me.

"What happened? To you, I mean."

She sighed.

"I'm tough, as we all have to be in this land. I can go out and hunt without fear. I can fight bears, spriggans, draugr, those rieklings. I've even fought the odd grahl, but I've never fought something like that thing before. It flicked me away like a dried snot."

She shuddered.

"Rashelle, I've worked here since I was a child. I grew up here. I've always lived here. I was raised here. My mother gave birth to me in this room. This is my home, my life, my safe place. Then that thing burst down the doors and destroyed it all. In a few short minutes, that monster destroyed my entire life."

She looked like she was going to cry again.

I hugged her and said, "Svenja. I'm sorry. Thirsk will be repaired. It will be OK."

She nodded.

I took a step back, placed my hands on her shoulders, looked her in the eyes and said: "I would like to go and kill that creature now. Can I leave you, so that I may do this?"

"Rashelle, it may kill you. I'm not sure I could take that. You've become a good friend in such a short time."

"I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

I lifted my hands away, grinned and made sparks fly from my fingers. She smiled and nodded. I departed.

Though an afternoon and a night had passed, the creature was still easy to track; I simply followed the trail of blood down towards the lake.

The blood led to rock outcrop by the edge of the ice and then disappeared. I looked out over the lake. A horker seemed to be waving to me: they are such adorable creatures. I smiled.

I walked between the lake and the outcrop. There was a new hole in the ground. it looked as if something had torn its way up through the snowy ground from some unknown depth. I looked down the hole and saw that, a few feet down, it bent from the vertical, towards the east. Since this was where trail of blood ended, this had to be where Udyrfrykte had gone.

I hopped down into the hole and found myself in an ice passage. I followed this down and east. As I descended, the light filtering though the ice grew darker, but never became totally dark: this low level of lighting, combined with the Ring of Azura's enchantment, enabled me to see clearly.

The passage widened. In front of me was a thick pillar of ice. I walked to the left and passed the pillar. The Udyrfrykte was there, looking just as it had been described to me previously. Its eyes did indeed glow. I could see the partially dismembered remains of a corpse, which it had been feeding on. From the clothing, I identified the body as that of Skjoldr Wolf-runner, the chieftain of Thirsk.

The creature roared, ripped an arm from the corpse and threw it at me. I dodged and cast a large fireball. The Udyrfrykte growled, picked up a severed leg ... and ran for me.

I cast another fireball and then Chrysamere was in my hands.

With its sickening weapon, the foul creature swung. There was a meaty impact and I was sent spinning through the air.

I smashed into an icy wall. As I rose to my feet, I cast a poison spell and a large fireball. The creature screamed, waved the now-burning leg, and threw it at me. I ducked the grisly missile and ran forward. The beast raised its arm to strike. I dodged and then slashed with my claymore. The fetcher surprised me by kicking. Its feet impacted squarely on my cuirass and I was sailing through the air ... again. I slammed into the wall. I saw stars and I felt a sharp pain my leg. I quickly quaffed a Restore Health potion.

I wished I still had some of those dark brotherhood darts from Mournhold. They would have been handy right then. Unfortunately, I had used them up some time ago. I had only my sword and my spells. I picked myself up and moved forward.

The creature growled and charged. I chopped and its arm went flying. I dodged the swing of its other arm and slashed with my blade. The beast kicked, missing me this time. I ran.

Roaring with pain and anger, the Udyrfrykte pursued. I ran past the pillar and turned to keep it between the beast and myself. The creature was fast but so was I.

We were now at a stalemate of sorts, as the pillar prevented it from directly charging at me: whichever way it ran around, I could scurry away in the other direction.

Louder than before, so that my ears hurt, the creature roared its frustration. It darted around the pillar and appeared on my left. I hit it with a shock spell and ran to to the right. The Udyrfrykte tried to repeat this maneuver from the opposite direction and was rewarded with a fireball.

The whole ice cave seemed to shudder as the creature dashed itself against the pillar.

I darted around the right and slashed with Chrysamere. The beast howled and I leaped back. Again it smashed into the pillar. I ran around to the right again and stabbed: My aim was lucky and one of its glowing green eyes was punctured. The creature twitched, as if trying to swing its missing arm at me. I could see that blood was still gushing from the stump.

The beast charged but I again used the pillar as cover.

I cast a shock bolt spell. The creature shuddered and then shrieked once. The green glow in its remaining eye faded and and it fell forward onto the floor of the cave. I waited. Silence descended. The beast was still.

The Udyrfrykte could have been playing dead to draw me within its reach, but I ran towards it anyway. I chopped and its head was half severed from its body. I then knew that it was really dead.

"Nobody ... nothing ... hurts my friend," I hissed.

I wiped Chrysamere clean on the creature's fur.

After pausing to take a potion, I explored the cavern. It was small, really just the one chamber. There were pieces of armor and shreds of clothing and many skulls ... all from previous victims.

There was chest in the back of the cave. I opened it but there was nothing of interest inside.

Since the chieftain had been torn to pieces, I was not going to bring him back to Thirsk: I have my limits.

I looked at the Udyrfrykte. It looked a heavy beast but I wanted to reassure my friend that Thirsk was safe again: I would bring the body to her. I cast a Feather spell: it would allow me to carry heavy objects more easily. I then took hold of the creature by its feet and pulled.

Dragging the Udyrfrykte behind me, I walked up the ice passage. When I reached the hole, I had a terrible time pulling that creature up to the surface. When that feat had been accomplished, I took a few moments to rest and look out on the frozen lake. The sight of the horkers disporting on the ice soothed me. They were so cute.

I cast the feather spell again.

Up the snowy slope I trudged, still with the Udyrfrykte in tow. I was tired. My arms, though strong, were beginning to ache. The feather spell cut out: I paused to cast it again and then pressed on.

I heard shouting. I looked up to see some of the people from Thirsk running down the slope, towards me.

"She killed it!"

"You did it!"

I smiled. The group reached me. They helped me drag the Udyrfrykte the rest of the way up. We stopped when we reached Svenja. She was speechless.

"I killed it for you."

She lifted me up in a bear hug and shouted "thank you" over and over again. Again, I was glad that I was wearing a cuirass.

Looking past her shoulder, It was apparent that Svenja had already gotten the work started. I could see that many of the bodies and much of the debris had already been removed from the interior of the hall.

"Svenja?" I said.

"Yes?"

"I can't breath."

She released me and laughed.

"I am sorry Rashelle. Thank you so much."

I smiled.

"What of our chieftain?"

"What is left of his body, is in pieces. You don't want to see it."

She nodded. That was the end of the matter.

"Rashelle. You have done a very good thing for Thirsk, and for me. The hall will be rebuilt and sagas will be written about what you have done today."

I looked down. Such praise was unnecessary. The people around us cheered.

She placed a hand under my chin and gently raised it so that I was looking up at her again. "And you will be the chieftain."

"What?!"

"Each chieftain of Thirsk attains their status by a great victory in battle. Any warrior, regardless of race or sex, can claim leadership of the mead hall by displaying the most impressive battle trophy on the pedestal in the mead hall."

I blinked.

"You have saved Thirsk by killing this mighty beast. Its heart will be the trophy: it will be cut out and preserved. By slaying this beast and by bringing it here, you have just passed two of the requirements to become the next chieftain. There is only one remaining task to be performed."

I waited.

"But first, I think you should continue your werewolf investigation for the Imperials and the Skaal. I shudder to think what would happen if werewolves were to attack us, especially now. Also, I wonder why the Udyrfrykte stirred from its lair now. Could this attack somehow have been connected to your werewolf attack?"

"Svenja ... will you be OK?"

"Yes Rashelle. I am still a warrior. By having met a creature that I could not best, I have merely learned my limits."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rashelle; I am sure. You have done much for me and I appreciate it but but for now, go and see to this matter. And in a few days we'll talk about making you the chieftain."

"OK."

There was more cheering.

I departed. I could have walked to the Skaal village, but I was not yet ready to return there. I could have cast Divine Intervention to go directly to the fort, but I had no business there. I decided that I would go to Raven Rock, but I would walk instead of using Recall: I needed some time to myself.

After fighting some spriggans and a pack of wolves, it began to snow. A wind began to blow. Visibility was not so good but I was happy to be striding through the swirling snow.

A berserker, some rieklings and a few bear attacks later, I noticed a mound of snow with a door in it: another dwelling or cave. Curious as ever, I decided to investigate.

"Hello, is anyone home?" I called.

I heard no answer so I entered. I found myself in another ice cave.

"Hello?" I called as I walked along the downward-sloping passage.

I arrived at a beautiful chamber of ice crystals. There were platforms of wood and on them were various crates and pieces of furniture. A few torches here and there and a fire provided light.

A Nord woman stood on one platform, not far from the fire. She was dressed in the usual furs and she wore an odd-looking fur hat that hid most of her blond hair. Her face had a mean, pinched, expression on it. For some reason I remembered something that I had often overheard parents saying to their children: "if you keep making that nasty face, some day it will freeze like that."

For this woman, it had.

"Brandr is my husband," she shouted, "do you hear me, Mine! That harlot, Erna, will pay!"

I had the feeling that I had walked into a conversation that was already in progress, but no one else was in the cave.

"Pardon?"

"Hello, stranger. I am Kjolver. My, you look quite the warrior. I'll bet you've done a lot of killing in your time."

I frowned. Had Sheogorath touched this woman?

She approached me. I had an impulse to back away but I resisted it.

"You walk around outside in the snow wearing only that?"

I nodded.

"don't you get cold?"

I shook my head.

"From the storm you come, unaffected by the cold and the snow. Truly, you are a Nord on the inside."

I said nothing.

"you carry such a big weapon, your arms have hard muscles. You are obviously a warrior."

I was mute.

"You have the aspect of death upon you. Your hair, it is black like the feathers of the raven. Wherever there is death on the battlefield, there are the ravens."

I remained silent. She was close to me now.

"Even your eyes are black. They are ink-black pools. I need a death, yes I do. You will be the agent of death for me, an avenging black-haired killer."

"What in Nirn are you talking about?"

"My husband, Brandr, is cheating on me. He is up at the Skaal village, having an affair with Erna the Quiet. I should be enough for him. I want you to kill Erna. I will reward you well."

"No."

"What?"

"No. I am not a killer for hire."

"But your bearing, your hair, your weapon ... you are every inch a killer. Striding in from that storm outside, all in black, you could be an avatar of death, sent by the gods to aid me."

My adamantium boots were silver in color, not black, but she must have decided to ignore that little detail.

"I kill to defend, to protect and only when necessary," I said. "I am not some Nord death god. I will not kill this Erna."

"You have to!"

"Good day sera."

"I trust you'll keep this matter in confidence?"

I left.

I resumed my journey. That conversation had disturbed me: my happy mood had evaporated and the snow no longer cheered me. Soon, I reached water and realized that I had drifted north of my intended path. I knew that northwest and west would lead me to Geilir the Mumbling's place and that Raven Rock would be due south ... to my left. I turned and started off. The remainder of my trip went without further incident. The snow had tapered off by the time I arrived at the colony. It was now late in the afternoon.

The place was almost unrecognizable. It had certainly expanded. To the north, work had started on a stone wall. There were more buildings. I saw many people walking about who I did not recognize.

I found Falco. He appeared to be relieved to see me.

"Rashelle, good to see you. How go things?"

"Interesting."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Long story."

"Fair enough," he said.

"You have a problem don't you?"

"Yes, Rashelle. I am sorry to burden you right as you arrive, but there was an attack last night."

"Werewolves?"

"Possibly. This morning we found a man dead. The body was outside and his throat had been ripped out. No one saw the attack. It could have been one of several animals but I think it was a werewolf."

"Strange that there was only one. The attack on the fort involved an entire pack."

He shrugged and said. "I don't know. I guess there is nothing to do, save to hire guards."

I nodded. "Good idea."

"Rashelle, could you go around and ask around and see if anyone here would like to become a guard?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Normally I would ask headquarters to hire guards and send them, but it is quicker if we can find people here. I can avoid much paper work and I want to have guards sooner rather than later. I don't know when another beast or werewolf will attack."

"That makes sense. I will find some people."

"Thank you Rashelle, and welcome back."

I smiled.

I walked around the town, talking to familiar faces and being introduced to the new ones. I found some people who were willing and, of them, I selected two who I thought had the proper physique and attitude. I wanted someone who could actually perform guard duty, yet someone who was not going to be a bully. Many guards ended up being more of a problem then what they were supposed to defend against: I did not want that to happen at Raven Rock.

I was sure that Reinhardt would have made an excellent guard, but I had an intuition that I would need him later for something else. I did not have a fully-formed plan, just the vague feeling ... so I did not ask him.

To be thorough, I also checked within the mine. I found a third person down there who was both willing and suitable for the job.

Falco was pleased when I presented him with a list of the three names.

"I'll draft a note and send them to the fort for some training and for some armor."

"Do you want me to fetch them now and escort them?"

"No, I'll give them Divine Intervention scrolls to get to the fort. For the return trip, they can take the boat."

I nodded.

It was now sunset so I decided that, after dinner, I would need a place to rest for the night. My usual spot had been replaced by a building, so I could no longer sleep there. I asked Falco about this.

"Rashelle, I can assign you a house of your own. We have managed to build two or three extra ones. With that werewolf around, I would feel more at ease if you did not sleep outside."

"Thank you."

I was not so concerned about being attacked, but with the colony now looking more like a real town, I was going to feel embarrassed if I continued to sleep outside.

In the bar, I found myself eating my supper while seated next to an Altmer named Athellor. He was dressed in clothing made of furs as if he were a native of Solstheim. He was friendly and we talked. It turned out that he was on a personal quest of sorts.

"You see, Rashelle, I believe that some of my ancestors were Falmer."

"Rieklings?"

He laughed.

"No, I am convinced that the Falmer, or snow elves, were Elven. They were not these degenerate little rieklings. Some scholars believe that the Falmer did not disappear, but rather that they intermingled with the other Elven races over time and lost their identity. I am sure that I have some Falmer blood in my veins. I would like to prove that they existed here in Solstheim. The thing is, I haven't got the, err, skills needed to travel around in this very dangerous land."

I began to see where this conversation was heading.

"An adventurer, such as yourself, could travel this land freely and perhaps find evidence of my theories."

I smiled.

"I would pay handsomely."

I shrugged. Money was no longer a concern for me.

"All I would ask is that you investigate the ancient Nord barrows around here for any evidence you can find."

"That sounds easy enough, though I cannot guarantee success. What sort of evidence do you seek?"

"I do not know: just something that makes it clear that the Falmer were not Rieklings and that they were here in Solstheim at some point in the past."

"Fair enough. I can do that."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me until I've actually done it."

He laughed.

"Here is 200 gold for equipment and traveling expenses."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry: if you don't find anything, you won't need to pay it back."

"Very well then, sera."

I accepted the money. It was probably easier to do that than to refuse. People get weird when I don't take their money.

Though it was still early, I decided that it was time for me to go to bed. I had gotten no sleep the previous night and this was beginning to catch up to me. Falco had already given me a key to my new house and he had described its location, so I was all set.

I rose and walked through the room, towards the door. I could see that Apronia was talking to a man. She noticed me and gave me a look that indicated that all was fine. I smiled.

I went outside and, in a short time, located my new house. I was pleased to see that it was one of the smaller buildings. The key turned and I found myself inside. The house had already been furnished with a bed. I barred the door but I still left my armor on when I went to bed.

A scream woke me up. It was the sound of a man in terrible pain and in terror. I was not sure what time it was but it felt as if I had been asleep for only two or three hours. I leaped from the bed, threw the bar from my door, and ran outside.

It was snowing, heavily.

I heard a growling that sounded very much like a large wolf. The sound of the man screaming stopped ... in mid-scream.

I ran between the buildings, trying to find out what was going on. The sound did not repeat. I turned a corner and saw a man whose throat had been ripped out. I ran to him. He was dead, and had obviously just been killed. It had been his scream I heard. I recognized him as the man I had seen with Apronia before. Where was she?

I then noticed that there were pieces of bloody cloth near the body. With an unpleasant chill I recognized the fabric: those were pieces of Apronia's dress.

I spun and looked around me, as quickly as I could in the thick falling snow. To the west I saw a smaller scrap of cloth and some blood. I ran toward it. I thought I saw more blood but the snow was covering it already. My foot struck a hard object. I kicked and saw Elberoth's sword, still in its sheath, emerge from the snow. Apronia had been wearing that sword. I could see faint depressions in the snow. They led west and they could have been footprints but it was hard to tell: they were rapidly filling in as the snow continued to fall.

Westward, between buildings, I raced.

I reached the western edge of the town to see ... nothing: no blood, no more clothing, no footprints, no trail of any kind. The snow had erased all trace of the werewolf's passage. A werewolf had Apronia ... and I had no idea where she had been taken. For once, I cursed the snow.