Rashelle At Solstheim, bloodmoon fanfic Options

[Dire Cheesecake]

Hm... Apronia's story still doesn't quite add up. All that clothing tearing is just a bit hard to swallow when you look at it objectively, but I guess if she has a werewolf wound there actually was one there that wasn't her. We also still don't know why she's going to bed so early. Most interesting. And what is the deal with the Fryse Hags? Erg!

This post has been edited by Dire Cheesecake: Aug 9 2007, 10:35 PM

[blockhead]

Chapter 17. Blodskaal



Heeding the words of Korst, the shaman, I strode across the village to the Great Hall. I entered and approached the chieftain.

"Greetings, Rashelle the outlander. I am glad you have returned."

"Good afternoon to you, chieftain. May I speak to you of the werewolves now?"

"You have performed the two tests that I have given you. You have done an amazing job. To be quite frank, I expected the All-Maker to strike you down when you attempted the Ritual Of The Stones. Traditionally, an outlander may not do this."

"You thought to send me to my death."

"But you did not die."

"But I could have."

"Life is hard. Every day is a test, a test that one may not live through. That which does not kill you makes you stronger. You should feel honored that I gave you a task worthy of a real Skaal warrior."

I was beginning to dislike this man. I think that this feeling first started when he insisted that I chose Rigmor's sentence. He had let Engar select his own fate, yet had forced me to choose for Rigmor. My dislike had now been increased by the realization that the chieftain had sent me on a task that he believed would be fatal.

There was nothing to do, save to press on as diplomatically as I could.

"Mighty chieftain, since we last spoke, there have been two werewolf attacks on the Raven Rock colony. May we now speak of this?"

"You are still not yet of the Skaal. You must perform one more test."

And risk death again. Still, I was of tougher stuff than these people realized.

"Tell me what to do."

Now, please.

"I have no task for you at this time, yet there must be three."

"Pardon?"

"There must be three tests. It is a good number. Two is not enough."

I waited.

"Go. I will have a third Test for you to perform, but not now."

"When?"

"Later!" he snapped.

I left before I could say the wrong thing.

I strode away from the Skaal village, too angry to remain. My feet took me south. I was attacked by a patrol of rieklings. I felt a little calmer after I had fought them.

A bear and a snow wolf later, I was once again stepping onto the cool grey ice of Lake Fjalding. I was no closer to finding the cause of the werewolf attacks. Things were now stalled, waiting on the whim of the Skaal chieftain.

"Oh Rashelle, now what do you do?" I said to myself as I rubbed a horker's belly.

The adorable creature groaned happily and lazily waved a flipper. I hugged the horker and pressed my cheek against its fur. It groaned happily. A flipper patted my head, almost tenderly. Awww.

"I love you, horker."

Suddenly, the horker pushed me away. I was thrown back, landing in a sitting position on the ice. The horker moved away from me, with its odd gait, towards the land. It was the fastest I'd ever seen one move. Why had my friend left me?

I looked around and saw that other horkers were also moving at a great speed, each one heading towards the land. I could see that they were in great fear, but of what? I stood up: something bad was happening. I slowly turned around. On all sides, horkers had fled the lake. I was standing on the ice, alone.

The ice beneath me began to vibrate. One horker on the shore turned to me and waved a flipper, almost as if it were imploring me to leave the lake. I shook my head. The horker turned and scooted away. It disappeared into the distance.

I readied my Recall spell but did not cast. Curiosity had me in its grip: I wanted to see what would happen next. The vibration under my feet continued. I waited. It grew in strength.

Roughly a hundred feet in front of me, a section of ice shattered, forming a hole roughly 20 feet across. In this hole, the water was bubbling.

I waited.

In another minute, a yellow glow formed in the hole. From it rose ... fire. Flames rose from the hole, reaching approximately 20 feet in height.

I blinked. What in Oblivion was going on?

Behind me, I heard approaching footsteps. I sensed that they were not hostile so I did not draw my weapon as I turned around. It was Korst Wind-Eye. His Seer ability had must have prompted him to start walking here some time before the flames had appeared.

"Lass, this is a bad thing."

"I'd guessed that, but what is it?"

"Something bad is coming. Something has gone wrong. You have restored the balance, but something is still not right. There have been werewolf attacks, the beast at Thirsk and now this."

"What do we do?" I said.

"This must be Aesliip," he muttered.

"Korst, what is Aesliip?"

"He was ... is ... a necromancer. Like others of his sort, he craved power and eternal life. he made himself into a draugr so that he could continue his life, if life you call that."

I remained silent.

"That was centuries ago, but each shaman has passed the warning down to the next. Aesliip fled to a cave under the lake, but it was always known that someday he would come back. Now he has, or is about to."

"All this you know just from a flame?"

"Fire on the lake was prophesied as a sign of the Draugr Lord Aesliip's re-emergence."

"I see."

"Rashelle, the chieftain has not given you a third test and of course he insists on a third test ... am I right?"

I nodded.

"This will be your third test. If you live, I will speak to him."

"If." I admired his honesty.

"Yes, 'if'. Aesliip is a draugr lord, more powerful than a regular draugr. Go down and find his cave. The entrance is on the lake bottom. I expect that it is centered below the fire. Go to Aesliip and slay him. Return to me here once you have accomplished this."

"Could you hold my books for me? I don't want them to get wet."

"Of course, lass."

I removed the books from my pack and gave them to him.

I could see no other holes nearby, so I walked towards the large opening under the flames.

Upon reaching the hole, I noticed that the heat was not as bad as expected. Despite this, I took the precaution of quaffing a healing potion before diving in. My potions last a good half-minute so I can take one ahead of time to attain healing during a damaging activity.

The water was still cold, even though it was bubbling. I rapidly descended through a turbulent column of water. The entrance to the cave was where the shaman had predicted it would be. I entered.

The cave went down, sideways, then up again. I emerged from the water, relieved that I had not needed to cast a water breathing spell. I was now in an ice cave. The cave was stuffy; most likely this air had been here for centuries. Since undead did not need to breath, I imagine this had not been a concern for the draugr.

I drew Chrysamere and strode forward.

A bone wolf rushed towards me. I absently chopped it to bits as I walked. Two draugr set up on me. With greater effort, I dispatched them and continued. I wandered though the ice caves for a time, fighting more undead, until I found a narrower passage. I carefully crept though this.

The passage turned and entered into a larger chamber in the ice.

A draugr stood there. Some intuition made me hesitate. The draugr was looking at me but did not attack: he remained motionless.

"Outlander," the draugr croaked in a voice that suggested air whispering through cobwebs in a tomb.

I raised an eyebrow. Never had a draugr spoken a word before this.

"I caused the fire out on the lake as a signal. I need help. I am Aesliip and was once a mage amongst the Skaal."

I was silent.

"When I was alive, I discovered an invasion of some powerful frost daedra. They would have ravaged the village, and all of Solstheim. They had already managed to enter this plane so I created a magical barrier to stop them, to contain them within this system of ice caves. The problem was, I had no help. I could not dispatch them on my own. Also, I was old, my life was nearing its end. Had I died, who would have kept the barrier going?"

I waited.

"I turned myself into a draugr lord, so that I could continue to maintain the barrier. I had to protect my people and this was the only way."

I remained silent.

"Of course, they did not understand. They banished me. I fled to this cave, close to the barrier. I have protected the Skaal for all of these years. The frost daedra still press against my barrier. They have not given up. They are waiting for my death."

I remained silent. My eyes sternly commanded the draugr to continue.

"I need your help. We can fight the daedra invaders. We can kill them and thus send them back to their plane. Alone, I was not able to do this. Together, I think we can."

I finally spoke: "Why should I trust you?"

"You must! We must fight them together, now. If you slay me, the barrier will come down and you will fight them alone."

"Answer me one question truthfully," I said as I approached the draugr.

He nodded.

"I have seen other draugr eat human flesh. Have you done so?"

I readied my sword.

"No."

I glared at him,

"I am not a draugr in the usual way. I become so deliberately, by act of will and through many spells. I do not have the .... urges ... of regular draugr. I have not committed that disgusting act."

I believed him. I've been fooled before, but usually I can judge a persons character and detect a lie. I lowered my sword, though I did not sheath it.

"I will take you to the barrier," he said. "The daedra are in this plane, confined to a section of these caverns. They are dire frost atronachs. We will go to the barrier. I will lower it. We will go in and fight them. Every one of them must be slain."

I nodded.

He led, walking in that odd gait that draugr seem to have. I followed. We reached a glowing wall of light.

"This is the barrier."

"I am ready."

"I sense you are a spell-caster. be careful with the fire spells. They affect me severely."

"I know. I will aim with care."

He gestured and the wall of light disappeared.

We ran forward, into the tunnel. Two dire frost atronachs emerged, seemingly out of nowhere, and hurled frost bolts at us. As Aesliip was to my right, I was able to burn the left atronach with a bolt of flame. He roared in pain while his compatriot hit me with a frost spell. I smiled as the icicles on my face shattered and fell away. These daedra didn't know about me and the cold.

I was now close enough to the atronachs to employ my weapon. I thrust my blade into the left atronach as Aesliip tore into the one on my right. Both fell dead.

We pressed on.

A third atronach rounded a corner and darted at me with surprising speed. He smashed a huge icy fist into me. I spun through the air and slammed into the wall. I drank a healing potion and rose to my feet as quickly as I could. Aesliip had thrown himself onto the back of the atronach and was pummeling its head. The daedra roared and spun around, trying to dislodge the draugr lord.

I ran forward and slashed with my claymore. The atronach howled an icy howl. I chopped and ice chips showered on me. I dodged a swing of its arm and again my blade bit into the atronach. With a cracking sound, Aesliip ripped its head off. The dire frost atronach fell forward, almost hitting me.

"Nicely done," hissed Aesliip.

We continued. There were twelve of the daedra in all and, between us, every one was slain.

"We have done it! We have done what I could not do by myself all these centuries. My people are saved!"

I smiled.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"I am Rashelle."

"Rashelle, I thank you for my help. Tell my people; tell them of me, and my sacrifice. I expect that they will not believe you but you must try."

He sat down on the ice floor.

"May they remember me as more than just another undead. I always had their best interests at heart, I did."

His eyes closed and he fell back. I reached out but he suddenly turned into a pile of ashes.

"Now, at last, I can go," seemed to say a voice in the air itself.

I was sad. The poor fellow had given his life, and several centuries beyond, to defend his people, even though they had condemned him.

A faint breeze dispersed some of the ashes, revealing a glint of metal. I reached down and picked it up. It was a ring. I could sense that it had an enchantment on it. I concentrated on the ring: yes, it had an enchantment which somewhat increased both the willpower and the magicka of the wearer. This was a constant effect enchantment, acting continuously as long as one wore the ring: handy for the beginning magic user.

I dropped the ring. It didn't feel right for me to take it.

Slowly I made my way through the caverns to the water. I entered the water, swam though the tunnel to the lake and then upwards to the hole on the surface. As I pulled myself from the water and onto the ice I could see that the flames were gone. Good.

During my adventure, the sun had set. It was now night.

Korst Wind-Eye was a dark form silhouetted against the blue glow of the moonlit ice. I strode across the surface of the lake and approached him.

"I met Aesliip."

He remained silent.

I related Aesliip's story to him.

He narrowed his gaze. "Do you believe him, lass?"

"I think I do. I suppose it doesn't matter, as the daedra invaders are all dead and Aesliip himself is now ashes."

He nodded. "Fair enough. I sense you've a bit of the shaman skill in you: enough to sense truth and falsehood."

He handed me my books. I thanked him.

"Rashelle, go the village. I will meet you there shortly. I want to make sure that things have settled down here at the lake."

I nodded. I was about to leave, when I discerned a figure approaching from the east. It was a Nord woman, holding a burning torch. I waited. As the figure came closer, I recognized her.

"Svenja!"

"Greetings Svenja Snow-Song of Thirsk."

"Good evening to you, Korst Wind-Eye of the Skaal. Hey Rashelle."

I smiled.

"What happened?" she asked. "There was a huge flame on the lake before."

Between the two of us, we explained to her what had occurred.

"So do you think the lake safe now?"

"I think so. Over time, we will know for sure."

"Good to know," said Svenja. "Thank you for your efforts. I have to get back to the construction now."

"Understood, good day, lass."

"Bye, Svenja."

She walked away, heading east. Though I wanted to follow her, I instead turned and walked north, towards the village. Korst remained on the lake.

I trudged onwards. Since I had recently traveled this way, There were not many attacks; just a pack of plague wolves and a berserker. The berserker had been wielding a nice Nordic silver claymore. It was a good weapon and the moonlight glinted prettily off of the blade, but I didn't really need it. I let it fall to the ground and resumed my trek.

I began to ascend the slope to the plateau where lay the Skaal village. It would be pointless to speak to the chieftain until after the shaman returned: I realized that I would be at a loss as to what to do to occupy my time.

I reached the village, to see it being attacked my werewolves. That answered that question.

Drawing Chrysamere, I charged into the village. A Skaal guard was fighting a losing battle against two werewolves so I came to his assistance, swinging my claymore through the skull of one of the beasts.

He then dispatched the second one.

"Thank you lass ... look out!"

I turned to see another creature running towards me: it had just slain a guard. I hit it with a stream of fire. It howled and fell. I rushed towards it. It was rolling in the snow, trying to put the flames out. My blade drew an arc downwards though the air and and his head rolled away. I dodged the blood gushing from the neck and looked around to find the my next opponent.

I could not see any werewolves remaining. I ran in the direction of the Great hall. If this were to follow the pattern of the attack on the fort, they would be in there, looking to kidnap Tharsten Hart-Fang.

I heard someone shout "They've gone into the Great Hall."

Damn.

A guard and I entered the great hall, to be immediately set upon by three werewolves. Fire came to me and I slashed with my sword. As I fought, I could not see the chieftain: was he already gone? The guard and I finished the three werewolves.

I stepped towards the center of the hall. There was no one alive in the room but the guard and myself. The chieftain was gone.

"Where is the chieftain?" asked the guard.

"I expect that he's been teleported away by the werewolves: that is what they did during their attack on the Imperial fort."

"Outlander, let us search upstairs."

"OK."

I did not expect to find Tharsten up there but I went along with the guard anyway. We rushed upstairs and, as expected, our search was unsuccessful.

The guard and I went outside to inform the others. I was glad that this guard had gone in with me: otherwise I feared that I would be blamed for the disappearance of their chieftain.

Much to my relief, Korst was there: he had returned from the lake. He mast have either left soon after I had, or perhaps he had moved at a faster pace.

"Rashelle, they tell me that werewolves attacked."

"They did, and the chieftain is gone. This is exactly how it was when they attacked the fort and took the captain."

"Rashelle, this is not good."

I nodded.

"And you have been infected by them!"

I shook my head. I was immune to all diseases ever since I had been "cured" of Corprus.

"Rashelle, you are infected. In three days you will become a werewolf, unless you get cured. If you are going to follow the way of the beast, you must leave the Skaal village and never return."

"Korst, I am immune ..."

"Outlander," he said sternly, "be cured or be gone!"

"OK, wait! Look, I'll cast a cure disease spell. You watch me do it, OK?"

He nodded.

I had not cast this spell in a while but I had not forgotten it. I formed the structure of the spell in my mind, gestured, and the spell was cast. There was a shimmer of light along my hands and around my head.

"Good, Rashelle. It is done. You are cured."

The shaman directed the cleanup of the corpses. As before, the dead werewolves had reverted to human form, leaving naked Nord bodies in the moonlit snow.

Afterward, Korst rounded up everyone but the guards for a meeting in the Great Hall. I stood next to him, by the chieftain's chair. No one seemed to mind.

Korst began the meeting by stating: "Firstly, as is our custom, I will lead until the return of our chieftain."

"Aye."

"Good."

"OK."

I sensed approval.

"Secondly, Rashelle has proven her mettle, her skills, her loyalty, her wisdom and her strength. I name her Blodskaal: outlander yet a blood friend of the Skaal."

I was very surprised when the crowd started to cheer, loudly and with great enthusiasm. I knew that the people here seemed to like me, especially after my judgment of Engar Ice-Mane and of Rigmor Halfhand, but had no idea that it was to this extent!

He raised his hands to signal for silence.

"Rashelle is now one of us. The house that used to belong to Rigmor Halfhand is now hers."

There was more cheering.

"That is all."

The meeting was over: Korst was not one to waste time. I approved.

The werewolves had been surprisingly neat in this attack. A few up-ended tables and some wrecked tableware was the extent of the damage to the inside of the Great Hall. We set the tables to rights, swept up and that was that.

The Skaal had eaten before the attack; once again I did not have dinner with them. I was offered mead but declined: for some reason I was unwilling to try it. Perhaps it was something that Marisa at the fort had said, or maybe it was the odd smell.

For days I had been wanting to speak to the Skaal of the werewolves. Now I could finally do so.

"Korst: werewolves have attacked here. They have already attacked the Fort and the colony. I need to find out who sent them. Have you any ideas?"

"No, lass, I do not. This is a dark day for the Skaal."

I retired to my new house and ate some food from my pack. I spent some time looking through Rigmor's collection of books. He had amassed quite a variety.

As I lay in my bed in my house ... one of two I now owned in Solstheim, I wondered at the werewolves and their kidnaping activities. First the Captain of the Imperials, then the chieftain of the Skaal. Was someone collecting leaders? Perhaps the leader of the Fryse Hags would be "collected" next, if not already.

Two things did not fit this pattern. The attack on Raven Rock had only involved one werewolf and that one had kidnapped Apronia instead of Falco. The attack on Thirsk fit the pattern of targeting the leader, but that had not involved a werewolf. Their chieftain had been killed, not kidnapped.

Was there a leader of the berserkers? If so, had they also been kidnapped?

I forced my mind to other thoughts.

Did I want to be the chieftain of Thirsk? I have to admit that I had grown fond of the place: what a change since my first visit there.

Had the Fryse Hags really stopped attacking me? If so, why?

Why had Apronia come to Raven Rock, anyway?

Focus Rashelle: get some sleep.

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmm, it certainly appears that Rashelle has a lot of things on her mind; most of which that don't provide any answers.

It also seemed very appropriate for Rashelle to not choose the path of the werewolf given her kind ways. Great update.

[Dire Cheesecake]

Ah, Rashelle finally gets a moment to reflect on the loose ends, and now she can't sleep.

[jack cloudy]

You've been busy.

It's been a good read so far so I'll just add fire to the Apronia discussion. Werewolves do have some form of intelligence. Enough to kidnap Carius for one. So what if she clawed her own side while in Werewolf form? She is smarter than she seemed at first, just listen to her explanation for choosing a Dwemer ruin.

[Dire Cheesecake]

And then there's the question of who mudered the ore thief. It didn't look like a werewolf had anything to do with that. At least, it wasn't the same.

This post has been edited by Dire Cheesecake: Aug 15 2007, 12:12 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Well based on my experience with that particular quest. The gamer is led to believe that the East Empire Company dude back at Frostmont (Carius?) had the thief killed because he got caught.

[Dire Cheesecake]

So Carius came to Raven's Rock, snuck into the locked house without a key, killed the guy, and then got out again without anyone noticing?

This post has been edited by Dire Cheesecake: Aug 15 2007, 01:50 PM

[Gaius Maximus]

So Carius came to Raven's Rock, snuck into the locked house without a key, killed the guy, and then got out again without anyone noticing?

He may have used Invisibilty spells or enchantments, and lock spells... And what do we know about his sneaking and lockpicking skills? For all we know, he might've been a secret master trainer no one was able to access...

Hm, so many questions, yet so litle answers... An interesting theory about the leader kidnapping Rashelle has here. I myself would've never thought about Berserker or Fryse hag leader being kidnapped... But then again, if I was Hircine, would I consider a leader of a group of naked Nord barbarians full of mead a fit prey? nah. Same could be said about the leader of a psychotic order of women with daggers that kill everyone they can.

[The Metal Mallet]

So Carius came to Raven's Rock, snuck into the locked house without a key, killed the guy, and then got out again without anyone noticing?

I'm sure he could certainly hire someone to do something like that. Heck, look at the goons he hires for one of the last missions in the East Empire Company questline. The dude has money to burn.

[jack cloudy]

Heh, money to burn. I would so love to see that being done literally some day. Hmm, lessee. Throw coins, follow up with a large dose of Magickal heat. Result, flaming cloud of gold dust! Choke on it!

But yeah, I bet that Carius just hired another henchman. It kinda makes me wonder why rpg leaders are always better than their goons, even if they only sit behind a desk all day. Hmm, where does he get all those people anyway? I mean, this is Solstheim, not exactly a populated area. Maybe he uses ebay?

[Gaius Maximus]

But yeah, I bet that Carius just hired another henchman. It kinda makes me wonder why rpg leaders are always better than their goons, even if they only sit behind a desk all day. Hmm, where does he get all those people anyway? I mean, this is Solstheim, not exactly a populated area. Maybe he uses ebay?

xD 'Special offer - an evil mindless minion Nord for only 10 Septims!'

[minque]

Ok so I´ll just answer these two guys, then I´ll read the newest updates and comment, m´kay?

In UESP, it said that a better translation was 'A beast to fear', which is, I assume, the correct one. 'Fear of the Beast'... That sounds weird.

As for the Nords, knowing the Legion, I'd guess they'll throw them in a pile behind the fort. Then throw some snow on it and pretend it's just a normal pile of snow - 'Whadda you mean - 'Reeks like dead bodies'? It's just a normal pile of snow... Oh, ignore that sticking out head...' But that's just my oppinion, anyway.

_Yep....it sounds better, A beast to fear...yeah I´ll go for that, but I fairly meant the same you know!

I think I like Gaius' theory better, minque. No offense, but somehow I think people would have a problem with having a large number of frozen naked nords lying around the courtyard. Aside from being extremely unsettling... Well no, that's pretty much it. Having lots of dead naked people on your lawn is just very unsettling, even if they don't smell thanks to being frozen.

Ok...so you like a heap of stiffies better then??? Well I don´t know...maybe the corpses will be eaten by...something???

[Dire Cheesecake]

Yes, a heap of corpses somewhere no one can see them is much more pleasant than having them strewn all over the court yard. Also, if it's cold enough the corpses will be preserved. I've been wondering though why no one has tried to ditermine anything from the corpses of the nords. We don't even know their genders. What if they were all women, Fryse Hag connection there huh?

[canis216]

Dude's name is Carnius Magius (notice the 'n'). Whereas the kidnapped legion captain is Falx Carius (no 'n').

Just thought that would help clear up some confusion.

This post has been edited by canis216: Aug 20 2007, 05:39 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Yea, I meant Carnius in my above post. Those two names are waaay to close to being similiar. I didn't bother trying to look up which one was which (I usually refer to Carius as "Falx" anyways) so sorry about causing any confusion.

[Gaius Maximus]

Gah, Imperials and their alike names... Always cause confusion.

WAIT.

Oh, none Imperials possess the name of Gaius Maximus. Though there is one 'Maximus'... Grr. (Unsheathes Hadhafang from WOTFH mod and goes to execute Jonus Maximus (Or something of the like) in Ebonheart)

(Back after several mintues)

But anyway, yeah. Carnius is the one we're talking about. Been some times since I've played Bloodmoon...

[blockhead]

Chapter 18. Chieftain



It was a strange feeling to awaken in Rigmor's house and then realize that it was mine. I had been accepted by the Skaal ... as it had been with the Ashlanders. It seemed wherever I went, people eventually came to like me and to accept me as their own.

It was unfortunate that Korst and the Skaal knew no more about the recent werewolf attacks than I did. In that respect, the days spent gaining the trust of the Skaal had been wasted.

No: not wasted. I had forged a bond of sorts and I had enjoyed myself and had done good things.

There was a knock on the door. I sprung out of bed, sheathed Chrysamere and walked to the door. I opened it and saw a new face: an older Skaal man who I had not met before.

"G-good morning Blodskaal."

"Good morning."

"Allow me to introduce myself: I am Lassnr. My son, Tymvaul, has fallen down the well."

We have a problem. Go bother the Breton with the claymore.

Focus Rashelle. Don't be mean: the poor man's son is hurt or, more likely, dead.

"When did this happen?" I said as I stepped out of my house and closed the door.

"Last night."

Why did he wait so long to tell me? I refrained from asking that question.

"None of the villagers would help me. They think that he is dead, but I believe that this well connects to a system of ice caverns. He may be alive, wandering around down there."

He led me me past the well in the middle of village. I slowed.

"No, not that well."

"Oh."

He led me to the western edge of the village, where there was a second well.

"I would have gone myself and searched, but I am too frail to do so. I hope he is still alive. My wife passed away recently. My son is all I have now."

We approached the well. In addition to a peaked roof, there was a wooden circular cover over the opening itself. Nothing could get in or out.

"I've kept it covered since he fell in. I want no one else falling in."

He unfastened the cover. I helped him slide it away.

I looked down and, as expected, saw nothing. If Solstheim had strata of ice in its bedrock, how did one extract liquid water from it?

"Leave the cover off," I directed. "I will meet you at your house."

He nodded.

I cast Levitate, floated up, in and down.

After a time, I felt a breeze and a sensation of space: I had left the well shaft and was in a larger chamber. I cast a Light spell and saw that I was in an ice cave. Below me was a pool of water.

I landed at the edge of the water and canceled my levitation spell.

From a passage in the ice, a skeleton ran towards me, Nordic claymore raised. A single large fireball was sufficient to destroy it. I walked into the passage.

I fought four more skeletons, some of them the berserker variety, and then entered another chamber. In this chamber stood a Nord, only recently grown to manhood, wearing a robe whose enchantment I could feel even at a distance. I wrinkled my nose: the enchantment was foul.

"Intruder! Who dares venture so deeply into the halls of Rimhull?! The Mantle of Woe is mine, do you hear? I have claimed the robe and its power!"

I said nothing.

"Behold the vestments I now wear! When I read the old stories I had to learn the truth. Could it be that an item of such grand magicka lie so close at hand, in the caves beneath my very village? I could contain my eagerness no longer, and jumped into the well. I braved Rimhull's dangers, and at last my efforts were rewarded. Soon the dead shall walk, and Tymvaul the Dark shall lead them!"

So he had not fallen in. The idiot had jumped in. He must have had some healing magicka or a Slow Fall spell. He had sought that robe and had found it.

"No, my fool of father could not possibly understand the powers I possess. It is my destiny to accumulate magical powers and to rule! I will raise an army of undead!"

He threw his head back and laughed: another one for Sheogorath? I pondered this obsession with ruling and power that so many people seemed to have. I did not understand it.

If I had to kill this man, his father would be crushed. I wanted to avoid doing so. This would be difficult: I was sure that the enchantment on the robe was twisting his mind.

"I have been sent by your father. Take off that robe, and end this madness. Your father loves you, Tymvaul, and only wants you to be happy."

"Father? My ... father?"

"Yes. He misses you."

"Could it be that he still holds me dear to his heart?"

He looked uncertain, confused.

"Tymvaul, your father loves you, though I expect he's the sort to not express himself that often. Come back."

"I ... I only wanted to study magic, free from the laws of the Skaal. Necromancy was quick, and easy. The power it offers is so overwhelming."

I waited.

He took the robe off. Under it, he was wearing the normal fur clothing worn by most people in Solstheim. It seemed that I had managed to convince him. Sword still drawn, I approached.

"Here," he said, "take the Mantle of Woe! Destroy it! I will leave Solstheim, I will find a place to study magicka, true magicka. Tell my father his love has saved me. I will return to him some day, when I can truly make him proud."

He bundled the robe into a ball and held it out, towards me.

"Put the robe on the ground and step back."

He did so, looking apprehensively at me.

I cast a bolt of fire at the robe. There was a flash of light as the enchantment was destroyed. Now he could not change his mind.

"Tymvaul," I said, "I am a member of the Mage's Guild. You should join them. They will teach you magic. More importantly, they will tell you how to not be controlled by it."

He nodded.

"Also, it would be better if you were to tell Lassnr this yourself, in person, before you leave. It would put his mind at ease. Let us go to him now."

"Aye, you are right. There is a passage this way that will lead to the surface. I discovered it after I entered this place."

I followed Tymvaul. We emerged through a second opening to the surface. We were on a the side of a steeply sloping hill. Looking down, I saw the ocean. There was a horker swimming in the water, not so far away. I smiled.

We ascended the slope. Upon reaching it I saw some houses of dark wood: some painted in bright colors. Recognition occurred and I realized that I was looking at the north edge of the Skaal village. We re-entered the village and returned to Lassnr's house.

The reunion was joyous. Lassnr now knew that his son was alive and Tymvaul had learned that his father still loved him.

"Father. I must go and learn proper magic. I cannot do so here. I will learn, and I will come back when I have mastered it. You'll be proud of me."

"I already am. Go with my blessing."

My work was done: I turned to leave.

"Rashelle, have you eaten yet?"

I shook my head.

"Join us for breakfast."

"Thank you."

After breakfast, I took my leave of Lassnr and Tymvaul. I strode south from the village. Now that I had ascertained that the Skaal knew no more than I did about the werewolf attacks, there was no urgent reason to remain. I wanted to return to Thirsk and help my friend.

Aside from the usual attacks, my trip to Thirsk was uneventful. I did not encounter any Fryse Hags.

It was a different Thirsk since I had been there last. The area outside of the mead hall had been cleaned up: there were no traces of temporary shelters or of the camp fires: just the two little structures by the main building, one for the Smith and one for ... well, I didn't know what it was for. I would have to ask Svenja some time.

I went inside, to see a mass of people busily working: the reconstruction was in its final stages. Through the people I made my way to Svenja. She pulled me aside and began to speak quietly.

"Rashelle," Svenja said, "The very first chieftain of Thirsk was Hrothmund the Red. He was slain by the great wolf, Ondjage. His bones lie in Hrothmund's Barrow, just northwest of the Moesring Mountains. This mountain range is in the northwest part of Solstheim, where the rieklings are thickest.

"You must enter this tomb and touch the Axe. If the spirit of Hrothmund deems you worthy, he will bless you. We'll know about it here in Thirsk. Do not ask how; we will just know."

I nodded.

"After touching the axe, which cannot be removed from the tomb, return here. You will be our chieftain."

"Svenja, this is not right. You deserve to be the chieftain. You have lived here all of your life. You already run the place. It should be you."

"No Rashelle, you have slain the Udyrfrykte; you shall be the chieftain."

I was about to protest when a thought occurred to me. Werewolves had taken the leader of the Imperials in Solstheim. They had taken the leader of the Skaal. If Svenja were the leader of Thirsk, might they also take her? I would become chieftain, if only to protect her: the werewolves would target me instead. I set my jaw and nodded.

"I cannot tell you much more, Rashelle. save that the the tomb is in the Eye of the Wolf and that you can see this 'wolf' shape from the air. I expect that you know levitation spells so this won't be a problem."

I grinned.

"There is magic in the entrance. You will need to speak a password to get in."

She leaned down and whispered in my ear; her breath tickled. "The name of the wolf, 'Ondjage', is the password."

She drew back, smiled and said, "go now."

I left.

I crossed the lake, only permitting myself to be distracted into playing with the horkers for a few brief moments. With regret, I left my friends and walked northwest.

A few rieklings and a pack of plague wolves later, I reached the house of Graring and his family.

"Greetings, Rashelle."

"Good morning. I was able to use the tool that you gave me."

From my pack I drew the piece of stalhrim from the mine. I held it out to Graring. He took it and inspected it.

"Ah, yes, indeed: this is the stuff. Outlander, you have done well. I feared that you would not return."

I waited.

"Rashelle, my son can make armor from this. My daughter can make weapons. Bring any stalhrim to us and we will make things for you."

Nice.

"Thank you."

"From that piece," said Hidar, "I can make a dagger."

"Anything else will require larger amounts of it," her brother added.

"Understood. I will return when I have more."

Graring handed the stalhrim back to me.

"By your leave," I said, "I will teleport out."

He nodded. I cast Divine Intervention and was returned to the fort. This was contrary to the direction that I wanted to travel for Hrothmund's Barrow, but it was time to update Severia and Gaea.

Severia happened to be walking near the Divine Mark. Perhaps she was on her rounds again.

"Hail Rashelle! How can I help you, my sister-in-arms?"

"I have news, of a sort."

"Walk with me. Tell me."

I walked with her. I as I had expected, she was in the middle of her routine; looking to catch any troopers slacking off or otherwise getting in trouble.

As we walked, I explained to her my recent adventures. I mentioned the werewolf attack in the Skaal village.

"Do you trust the the Skaal, Rashelle?"

"They are strange and have some cruel ways, but I do. They are honest and honorable. I know they are not in league with any werewolves."

"Well, this is good to know, but it is bad in that it leaves us with no leads of any sort."

I nodded. We were now somewhere inside the wall of the fort. We turned a corner of the corridor and beheld a soldier who was seated on the floor, back against the wall of the corridor. He was sound asleep.

"You there!" she barked in that commanding voice that Imperials have, "Is this your duty station?"

He was instantly awake and standing at attention.

I smiled as Severia chewed him out.

"You have latrine duty for a fortnight, starting now! Move!"

The soldier scurried away.

"Severia. I must go. I have a duty to perform for the people at Thirsk."

"Thirsk now? You sure get around."

I smiled.

"Well, thank you for your efforts. And if you happen to stumble onto any new information as to this werewolf problem, you'll contact Gaea or myself?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. Good day, Rashelle."

It was snowing when I left the fort. In a short time, the wind picked up and the snow in the air became a solid howling whiteness. I took this as a good omen. I fought some spriggans, some wolves, a bear and a few berserkers as I traveled.

I saw no Fryse Hags.

When I reached water, I knew that the blizzard had caused me to go more east than I had intended. If I were to follow this river, it would lead straight north to Lake Fjalding. My desired path was more towards the west.

Not far from the river, near the west bank, I noticed a cave entrance. Curious as ever, I approached it.

I entered and found myself in a downward-sloping ice passage. Even in the storm, light filtered down through the ice. Ice caves are pretty.

"Hello?" I called.

"Come in," said a woman's voice.

Thus encouraged, I moved ahead. The passage shortly reached a chamber. It reminded me of the beautiful ice chamber of that crazy woman, Kjolver.

This woman looked more sane, though there was sadness in her blue-green eyes. Her hair was brown and cut like Svenja's. She wore no armor.

"Greetings, stranger. I am Kolfinna. Welcome to my home."

"I am Rashelle."

"Are you seeking shelter from the storm? You must be freezing, dressed like that."

I smiled. "No, muthsera; I love it."

She raised an eyebrow and said. "'tis very strange, but I see that you are not shivering at all. There must be some Nord in you."

I nodded.

She said nothing. An awkward silence descended.

"Sera, am I interrupting something?"

"No, it's just ... "

She sighed.

I waited.

"My husband, Gustav Two-Teeth is dead."

"I am sorry."

"He was slain by Sigvatr the Strong, who was his friend. Sigvatr and Gustav were drinking, and Sigvatr ... he ... he slew my husband where he stood! There were witnesses!"

I was silent.

"Rashelle, are your familiar with the concept of a weregild?"

"Oh yes," I said with feeling, recalling my troubled time in Mournhold.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Long story."

"Could you do me a favor, Rashelle?"

"Depends. Tell me what it is."

"I want weregild from Sigvatr. He has a family heirloom, the gem Pinetear. I do not care if you kill him or not, just obtain that jewel for me."

"I will at least speak to him," I said. I felt sorry for this woman but did not have the whole story. I was not going to commit to anything else.

"Fair enough."

She described Sigvatr.

"He can often be found southeast of the Altar of Thrond, close to the banks of the Harstrad River."

I did not know those locations. Further discussion revealed that she referred to an area that was west of Lake Fjalding and southwest of Graring's house.

"Rashelle, are you leaving now?"

"Yes. Are you in danger here?"

"No, but with that storm outside, I thought you might want to stay here for a while."

"I love the snow," I said with a smile. "Blizzards make travel slower but I do enjoy them."

"Oh. Well, good luck then; and thank you. Oh, and watch out for his warhammer. It is an effective and dangerous weapon with a powerful frost spell on it: it can freeze you where you stand. It ... it's what he killed my husband with."

I nodded, turned and walked up the passage.

I emerged into the wonderful whiteness of the storm. Again, I was snow-blind, but I still found it magical. I almost bumped into a frost boar before either one of us noticed the other. The beast tried to gore me and I was forced, once again, to defend myself. Why couldn't these animals be more like the horkers?

The force of the blizzard began to lessen: though it was still snowing, I could see again. I passed the Tree Stone.

A snow bear attacked. The powers of my birth sign diffused its frost enchantment and restored my magicka levels. I continued on and, after fighting a patrol of mounted rieklings, reached a river.

I crossed the river and walked along its west bank. I ran into a group of reavers and had to fight through them. The one archer gave me a tough time, but it helped that my cuirass was protection against any normal arrows.

Later, I was set upon by a pack of wolves. As I began to fight them, a man ran to my assistance. He was a large Nord, dressed in Nordic mail, carrying a big two-handed warhammer. I noticed that it had a frost enchantment. We didn't speak until the wolves had all been dispatched.

"Much obliged, Sera. Thank you."

"I saw a lady in distress and had to assist."

I had not been in distress at all, but the gesture was still appreciated.

He matched Kolfinna's description of Sigvatr.

"Are you Sigvatr the Strong?"

"Aye lass, I am he. I didn't catch your name."

"I am Rashelle. I have been seeking you."

"Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow suggestively and smiling.

"Kolfinna sent me. She claims that you have slain her husband. She demands a weregild: the gem stone Pinetear."

The smile left his face.

"He had it coming to him," he said.

I said nothing.

"We were drinking. He pulled a knife on me, I had to defend myself."

I remained silent.

"Well, OK, we had been arguing."

A silent gaze was my only reply.

He looked away. "Damn your eyes! OK. We had been arguing about a stupid thing. But he had a knife out, he could have slit my throat!

I waited.

"Yes! Yes, I killed him! He would have slit my throat! Or so I thought."

I said nothing.

He looked at me and said; "But what if I was wrong? What if I murdered Gustav in cold blood?"

I remained silent.

"My friend ... oh my friend!"

There was a look of horror in his face. I stared mutely.

"Here, take the gem! Give it to Kolfinna, and may it ease her pain. My suffering, my guilt, will never end!"

From his pack he retrieved a gem stone. He held it out to me. Carefully, in case he was going to try anything, I took it.

"Thank you, sera."

I think he may have been sincere in his remorse.

I resumed my travel, continuing northwest despite the fact that Kolfinna's dwelling was a long way southeast.

Soon, I found my way blocked by an incline that was too steep to climb. This had to be one of the Moesring Mountains: I was getting close to my destination.

My choices were to levitate, go left or go right. As it was still snowing, visibility from the air would be bad. I remained on the ground and turned left.

A pack of snow wolves attacked me. With fire and sword I fought through them.

I walked a little ways and found something strange: it was a shipwreck ... at the base of a mountain and far from any water. I saw bodies of the crew on the ground. Two wolves were fighting over one of them, tugging a piece of flesh between them. Fire came to me and both beasts were burned to cinders.

Slowly, I approached the boat. Crates and random pieces of wood and metal had been scattered in the snow. I recognized the characteristic golden color of Dwemer metal: someone had taken a regular ship and had added Dwemer mechanisms to it. The boat had no mast. I do not think that it had broken off: I suspected that the unusual craft had been built to somehow travel without sails.

A Jump spell allowed me to ascend to the deck. I opened the hatch to go below decks, but I could see that there was no room: the entire hull of the ship was packed with Dwemer machinery. Some of the gears were still spinning. I have seen many strange things in my life, but this was one of the strangest.

I closed the hatch and stood up.

The snow continued to silently fall as I walked towards the captain's cabin. I entered the cabin, intending to read the log book. I searched but did not find one.

Once again outside, I jumped to the ground and searched through the scattered crates and then through the bodies.

I found the log book in the snow, near the corpse that the wolves had been fighting over. I carried the book away from that grisly spectacle and Jumped onto the strange ship again.

After settling myself comfortably on the deck, I began to read. I expected that this would be interesting.

The ship's log indicated that this was an "air-ship": it had actually flown through the air by some Dwemer means. They had flown it from Ald'Ruhn to Solstheim.

The expedition had been organized and funded by a Louis Beauchamp, a Breton in Ald'Ruhn. He had not actually been on board. I resolved to call on him the next time I found myself in the area.

What was interesting was that their destination had been Hrothmund's Barrow. They had also heard of the wolf and how it was somehow visible only from the air. This was, in fact, the reason for the expedition's use of a jury rigged Dwemer air-ship: to spot the wolf. They had not been concerned with the axe, but instead with an artifact called the Amulet of Infectious Charm.

The ship had begun to fall apart in flight. They had made it to Solstheim and had reached sight of Hrothmund's Barrow but had then been blown off course, to the south, by a sudden blizzard. The ship crashed and only the captain survived.

He did not survive for long. The last lines of the log were a nearly illegible scrawl, raving about cold and wolves. Most likely he been killed by those snow wolves or had frozen to death. I hoped it had been the latter.

I stowed the book in my pack.

I cast a levitation spell and floated up and north. I rose, following the slope of the mountain.

Soon I reached the height of the peaks. I Leveled off and floated north. Some rieklings spotted me and their visible consternation at being unable to reach me brought a smile to my face.

In a few minutes, I spotted my destination. Many pieces of ice, the largest the height of a man, had been arranged to form a large outline ... a picture of a wolf. I looked to the head, drawn in profile, and could see that there was an obvious cave entrance where the eye would normally be.

I drifted down to the eye entrance and landed. I canceled the levitation spell.

Two snow wolves and a mounted riekling attacked me. I dispatched them and, after pausing to make sure that there were no other nearby hostiles, I turned to inspect the entrance.

It appeared to simply be a wolf fur over an opening in the ice, but I had been warned that it was not so simple. I lifted the fur away to see ... a solid-looking door of ice or possibly stalhrim. I touched the door and a voice sounded in my head, reciting a poem.

Some they call me Hrothmund's Bane,
with midnight teeth and moonlight mane.
I am the wolf one soul may tame,
by uttering my given name.
But speak the truth,
for those who lie,
gain not the wealth beyond my eye!
Answer false and evermore,
closed shut will be my icy door.
What is my name?

I spoke the name that Svenja had whispered in my ear; the name of the wolf that had slain the first chieftain.

"You spoke the truth and won the game, for Ondjage is my given name. You have gained entrance to Hrothmund's Barrow," said the voice. The door opened and I entered.

I walked down a short steep ice passage that led into the dark stone work of a typical Nord barrow. I fought a bone wolf and a draugr. I rounded a corner and was set upon by more undead. I dispatched them and moved deeper. I entered the main burial chamber and cleared the undead from there as well.

This chamber was like many I had seen, including the stalhrim coffin against the far wall. In the center of the room was a short column or pedestal. Embedded in it was a rather large double-edged axe. It had the look of something that was not going to be moved. This had to be the axe that Svenja had mentioned.

I placed a hand upon the handle.

There was no voice, but a sort of tingling went through me and I just knew that I was now the chieftain of Thirsk. I also somehow knew that, right now, Svenja and the others at Thirsk were aware of my success.

"It is done," I hissed. "Come and get me now, werewolves."

I removed my hand from the axe and inspected the tomb. None of the treasure interested me, save for an amulet. As it was the only one in the place, it had to be the one that the expedition had sought.

The appearance of the amulet was unremarkable but the enchantment was of interest for its strength and its oddity. It enhanced one's personality quite a bit but also made one extremely susceptible to disease. It also would induce a tiredness, a fatigue. Infectious charm, indeed ... what would be the point of such an enchantment? I placed it in my pack.

I Recalled to the fort and, once again, left via the north gate.

A spriggan and a bear later, I was again entering the ice cave dwelling of Kolfinna.

"Hello again, Rashelle. Did you find Sigvatr? Did he give you Pinetear"

From my pack I took the gem. I held it out.

"Yes," she said, "That is it. Thank you, Rashelle."

"I believe that he regrets."

She took it and held it up. There was a bitterness in her face. She now had Pinetear but it didn't really make up for the loss of her husband.

"He was a good man, I m-m-miss him so."

I said nothing.

"This means nothing," she said.

She dropped the gem on the floor.

"n-n-nothing."

She fell to her knees and began to cry uncontrollably.

I crouched down and awkwardly put and arm around her, trying to comfort her.

She sobbed, great shuddering sobs that had to hurt. I was reminded of Svenja's reaction to the Udyrfrykte. I wanted to return to her, but I could not leave this poor woman in her present condition.

After a time, she regained some composure.

"I'm sorry Rashelle," she said as she wiped her eyes and sniffled, "It's just ... I loved that man, I did."

I said nothing.

"I'm all right now. If you need to go, go. I'll be OK."

"Come with me," I said, without thinking.

She looked at me questioningly.

"Do you have any children?"

She shook her head.

"Come with me to Thirsk. You are alone here. This is no life for you. In Thirsk you'll be amongst people, many happy people."

"That is true," she said. "This place keeps reminding me of him. Maybe I should leave it all behind and start anew."

"We can go in the morning," I said.

"No, let's go now. I'll take some clothing, my money ..."

She picked up the gem.

"I can sell this."

"Let's wait until the morning," I said softly, "in case you change your mind."

"I don't think I will."

"Let us wait, anyway. It is nearly sunset."

"OK."



In the morning we set off for Thirsk. Though she was leaving her home for good, her pack was not so large. Kolfinna knew how to travel light.

She was not cheerful ... but she was closer to cheerful than I had seen her before.

A spriggan attacked us. I feared that I would have to defend Kolfinna for all of the trip but I had forgotten the important fact that she was a Nord women who lived in the wilderness of Solstheim. Together, we dispatched the creature rapidly.

"Nice work, Kolfinna."

She smiled.

As we traveled to Thirsk, she talked about her life. I did not prompt her since I did not wish to bring up memories of her husband, but she spoke up on her own. She focused mostly on matters not having to do with him. I learned of her childhood. She had grown up in Skyrim and had moved to Solstheim and met her husband there.

She was an enjoyable traveling companion. She did not slow me down and she provided good conversation.

We encountered almost all of the usual hostile creatures of Solstheim, but we saw no Fryse Hags.

Eventually, we reached sight of Thirsk.

"They might even be open for business again," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"An Udyrfrykte attacked. It killed most of them and trashed the place. The mead hall has been closed for repairs."

"Oh."

We reached the hall and entered. I could see nothing after the bright sun and snow. My eyes would need a moment to adjust.

Conversation stopped. I was reminded of the last time that conversation had stopped here upon my entry: the circumstances were much different now.

The silence was ended by Svenja's voice. She shouted: "All hail Rashelle the outlander, chieftain of Thirsk!"

[The Metal Mallet]

Hehe. Let's hope Rashelle's plan doesn't go to waste. It'd be ironic if the werewolves nabbed someone else now.... Oh wait... I think they do

[Dire Cheesecake]

Hm... Curiouser and curiouser.