Ok my dear readers.....here starts chapter 4....hope you will enjoy it!Chapter 3It's not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what's requiredSir Winston ChurchillI stayed another week at Arvs Drelen, being a devoted scholar of Baladas Demnevanni, who in fact was more of a father to me than Rufus Vantinius back in Cyrodiil ever had been. I learned a horde of spells suitable for, if nothing else, keeping me alive in the harsh country I was to encounter.
It was with mixed feelings I took leave of Baladas and Shulki an early Turdas-morning as I was bound eastwards to the Ahemmusa Camp. Master Demnevanni had given me a nice set of potions and scrolls; Shulki gave me a wonderful cloak made of softened netch-leather, dyed in dark green with complicated embroideries along the edges. She had spent over a year making this robe and it was originally meant for her wedding. I first refused to accept it but Shulki urged me to it, since she was convinced that I saved her life by revealing the Talos Cult plot, and she was now to move in with Master Demnevanni and devote herself to follow in his footsteps; therefore she was not going to marry anyway. I then embraced her, tears running down my face, and accepted the wonderful gift and wished her all luck. I was really sorry to leave Gnisis; Shulki and Baladas Demnevanni were the only family I had....so far.
I went by Silt Strider to Khuul, a small fishing-village on the north-west coast of Vvardenfell. The rain was pouring down as I arrived and I hurried along the road leading from the Strider port to the village itself. Luckily my cloak was impregnated with Shalk-resin so it resisted the rain very well. Nevertheless I arrived at the actual village dripping from rainwater and extremely hungry. I asked around for some services and was shown to Thongar´s trade house, a rather simple place but where I at least could buy some bread and Scrib-jelly.
I also found out that in order to get to Ahemmusa Camp the best thing to do was to take a ship to Dagon Fel and then walk from there. I wasn’t all that happy about going by boat, since the weather still showed no improvement; in addition to the pouring rain a rather hard wind had started whirling around and the sea did not look friendly at all. I can’t stand the sea and I did not fancy losing my lunch to the sea-creatures, so I decided to ask Thongar, the Nordic proprietor, if I could wait a couple of hours in his house. I was allowed to sit down in a corner and so I did.
I must have fallen asleep sitting there because suddenly I was aware of some movement just beside me and when I opened my eyes I spotted Thongar´s hands deep down my in backpack, I immediately grabbed his wrist muttering:
”'M feinedd balf fferrir”, and watched him grow pale as my grip turned his arm to a frozen piece of meat. Master Demnevanni´s spells were indeed very efficient and this one, “Icy Grip” was no exception…
“So, what are you looking for?” I asked coldly and relieved my grip so the blood could circulate freely in his arm again. The incredible pain as the frozen limb started to gain normal temperature was clear in his face; sweat was dripping from his forehead and he moaned as he desperately rubbed his arm.
“N-N-nothing, nothing at all” he gasped, looking hatefully at me, “Get out of here immediately. You cursed Witch”.
I saw no reason to disobey him, so after checking that nothing was actually stolen from me I went out of the Trade house and down to the docks. The wind had eased a bit and I bought a one-way ticket to Dagon Fel. I must have been rather exhausted, because I slept most of the trip, and arrived the following morning in Dagon Fel, the biggest Nordic settlement on Vvardenfell. It was a rather nice town, a mixture between grey wooden shacks and some patchwork stone houses surrounded by a wall….partially torn down though.
A tall blonde woman greeted me as I stepped off the ship, wondering if I needed some accommodation during my stay. She told me her name was Mette and that she could recommend “The End of The World Renter Rooms” where she currently was employed, as a scout. I found the name of the accommodation rather amusing considering that I actually was at the End of Vvardenfell at the moment, so I followed her there. I was offered a rather large room, with a bed, a small table and a large drawer in it. On the table I found a book that caught my interest, not so much the title, but the author: “The True Noble’s Code” written by Serjo Athyn Sarethi. I remembered Neminda mentioning him back in Ald´Ruhn as I joined the Great House Redoran…..
I laid down on the bed and started reading the book…..getting more and more doubtful the more I read; How could I possibly fit into The Great House Redoran? A house filled with noble warriors, worshipping the Tribunal, a thing I had not even the faintest clue what it really meant…..I shrugged and put the book aside…….closing my eyes for a bit.
Until this day I can’t tell what exactly woke me up, I only know that if something had not wakened me that bright morning at The End of The World, it really would had been The End of Serene Catraso, that’s for sure!
I don’t know what happened besides that I was sound asleep one minute and standing beside the bed, sword in hand, the next. I saw nothing, but a distinct prickling of my neck told me there was something there waiting for me. I turned around once more when a dark figure seemed to materialize out of the shadows, with a shiny sword in its hand. I realized that his armour was made of a light-absorbing material. I had no time to notice anything more, as he attacked with a ferocity I had never before encountered. I was able to use the greater reach of my long sword to advantage, keeping away from many of his attacks. Still, a significant number got through, and I felt something warm and wet run down the left side of my body. I fought without thinking, the instinct of survival made me launch a series of strokes that finally pressed my opponent into a corner of the room where I could finish him off with a lethal stroke to his stomach. As he sank to the floor, severely bleeding and his intestines visible through the deep cut I had given him I myself fell to my knees, panting from exhaustion, sobbing hysterically from grief of having to kill someone.....again!
I eventually calmed down and started to investigate my own wounds. Luckily I had taken off Shulki´s beautiful cloak or it would have been completely ruined. My shirt, soaked with sweat, had a long bloody rift in the left side, showing where the attacker had hurt me the worst. The cut was about 6 inches long and rather deep, since blood still was emerging from it in a rather heavy flow. I felt dizzy for a moment but managed to put my hand on the cut and concentrate. It was hard this time; my heart was still beating heavily and the sweat made my skin slippery so I wasn’t able to heal myself as swiftly as I used to. Finally I just tied a bandage made from the sleeves of my ruined shirt around me and hoped that would be sufficient.
Then I remembered the potions I got from Master Demnevanni, and I indulged myself with a small healing-mixture. Feeling much better and invigorated I started examining the body of my attacker. He was a young skinny Dunmer with a strange tattoo on his forehead. His armour was of very high quality; in addition to its light-absorbing properties, it also was designed to dampen sound. That would explain why nobody came to my aid in this fight. The sword was made from a material I never encountered before, strong yet very light and shiny. I decided to take custody of that sword and somehow find out what it was made of. I reckoned some Armourer would have the answer to that. I thoroughly wiped the sword clean from my own blood and put it on top of the chest of drawers.
Now the problem remained; what was I supposed to do with the corpse? I had no intention whatsoever to stay at The End of The World; if there had been one attack there could very much likely be another, especially since this attacker was unable to get back to whoever employed him and report me as being dead.....I was almost certain there had to be an employer of some kind- too many strange unexplainable things had happened to me since I got to this Island; an attempted murder did not really surprise me, just made me feel very sad, mostly because I had to kill another human being, something that I had already done a couple of times even though I resented it deep in my heart.
I took the sheets from my bed and wrapped the corpse in them and shoved him in under my bed. Then I unwrapped my bandage, seeing that the wound was almost healed, just a red scar remained stretching from under my left breast to the hipbone, the scar was sore and prevented me from bending and moving freely, but didn’t really bother me that much. Obviously the sword that made that wound was extremely sharp, otherwise it wouldn’t have cut that deep.
I also realised I’d have a problem finding something to wear, that ruined shirt was my last one, as were the trousers I was wearing, dirty, stained with blood and sweat, they were at least not torn but I did not fancy wearing then anyway. It seemed as I had nothing left except a dancing dress that Shulki had given me because it was anyway too small for her. It was an extremely short black one with shoulder straps, not much to wear during a journey and definitely not anything I would think of wearing when walking around in Dagon Fel.......