An Argonian's Account, Haa-Rei's adventures in Cyrodiil Options

[hazmick]

ghastley - Yeah I've always found it worrying that an army of assassins managed to wander into the heart of Imperial power without anyone noticing. I decided the Blades would be a bit more...competent in Haa-Rei's tale.

Acadian - I'm glad you liked the fog. I hadn't decided on the weather until I booted the game up for reference and the weather rolled in. As for the head spines, I've spent many a long hour watching Haa-Rei wandering Tamriel, and Argonian physiology is already so interesting I thought I'd add a touch more.




Previously - While walking the streets of the Imperial City, Haa-Rei was alerted to an attack on the Emperor's family. Ever the hero, out Argonian Agent leaped into action...


Chapter 20

The main building of the Imperial Prison looked like a miniature version of the White-Gold Tower. Perhaps a quarter of the size, with thick walls around the base that made it look positively impenetrable. Several red-robed corpses had already been hoisted up onto the walls for all to see.

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed by how quick these gaolers work…” I mumbled to myself.

Knight-Captain what’s-his-name’s directions were almost so vague as to be meaningless, and there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger in this part of the prison. My only choice was to head inside, but not before I grabbed a set of keys from a nearby table. It’s amazing what you can find just lying around.

The prison didn’t cover much ground on the surface, but below ground the areas where the prisoners were located covered a very large space. The largest section was just below ground, and the well-lit and ventilated cells held criminals ranging from small-time thieves and drunkards to those involved in assault, fraud, or lollygagging. The guards had locked this area down for now and responded to my questions with blank stares until one of them helpfully pointed in a general ‘downwards’ direction.

The lower area of the prison was much smaller – perhaps half a dozen cells. The smell was the first thing that hit me. There was no ventilation or plumbing down here, and the only source of light came from a small grate in the wall of the nearest cell. This area of the prison was reserved for the worst criminals – murderers, rapists, traitors. The guards seemed content to leave these prisoners alone.

My attention was drawn to the cell with the grate, the only unoccupied cell. At first glance it was completely ordinary. The stone walls were suitably cold and cheerless, the floor was covered in rushes which looked as if they’d never been replaced, and a set of rusted chains hung from the low ceiling to complete that ‘you’re going to die in here’ look that no prison cell should be without. The only thing that was missing was…a wall.
A large section of the wall had opened, like a door. I opened the cell with the keys I previously…acquired…and went to investigate. The wall/door led to a short tunnel, beyond which I could see the pale white stones of an Ayleid ruin.

“The plot thickens…” I continued my personal commentary as I carefully moved through the tunnel.

I wasn’t all that surprised to find Ayleid stonework under the city, and the idea that there was a secret escape tunnel was more exciting than anything else. My excitement was short-lived however, as I entered the first room.

The room itself was rather small. A large pillar stood in the centre and was flanked by stairs on either side. A wooden door at the far side of the room was the only non-Ayleid piece of architecture. What got my attention, however, was the blood. The stairs were slick with it, and the walls were likewise spattered with viscera. A heap of red-robed corpses lay at the bottom of the stairs, and another corpse lay to one side.

A Blade. Her silver armour was chipped and scarred, and a large wound on her throat dyed her upper torso red. The markings on her shoulder indicated she was a Knight-Captain. Her sword was nowhere to be found, and I assumed that her comrades would have taken it with them. From her fair, slim face I guessed she was a Breton, but I wasn’t sure what Bretons did with their dead so I dragged her back up the stairs as carefully as I could and laid her in a more dignified position. Unable to do anything else, I moved on.

The door was locked, and none of the prison keys would open it. Thankfully some rats had burrowed through a large section of wall off to the right, and someone had killed them before moving off in that direction. I readied my bow before following in their footsteps.

Whoever had killed the rats had had a very interesting time. An entire tunnel system, some Ayleid, some…not, lay beyond the wall. The corpses of giant rats and (what I assumed to be) goblins, were scattered here and there. I also stepped in some bits of foul smelling flesh which could only have come from some sort of undead, but the creature itself was nowhere to be seen as I paused to clean my boot on a bit of rubble.

I was thankful that the person I was following had been so thorough, as it allowed me to think in peace as I walked. The Blades warriors are the elite bodyguard of the Septim family. The only reason one would be in a place like this…

I was so busy thinking that I almost missed the drop. The tunnel I’d been following ended abruptly in a drop of about six feet which led back into the Ayleid ruins - another room full of red-robed corpses (and I was relieved to see that they were the only corpses in here). I quickened my pace as I carried on through the tunnels and rooms, seeing more and more red-robes as I went.

As I exited into the largest room, I saw another silver corpse. The open room branched off in two directions, a gate to the right and a tunnel straight ahead. There was a shocking number of red-robed bodies arrayed in a semi-circle around the tunnel entrance, and it was here that the Blade also lay. Even with his armour on you could tell that he was muscular, and his face was frozen in a gruff expression of defiance. The body had been laid out with care, and he looked rather noble despite the nicks and rents in his armour. Just like the first body, this fellow’s sword was nowhere to be seen.

Then a voice called out from the dark tunnel and I drew my bow, an arrow nocked and ready.

“Talos.”

“Plaza.”

Well then. Time to get some answers.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:12 AM

[Darkness Eternal]

Don't think I have forgotten about this Argonian's account Hamzick. I'm still around, and I'm still reading and you are doing a great job on it.

[Acadian]

This ‘Main Quest Tutorial’ coverage displays a wonderfully creative imagination, while still being told in Haa-Rei’s delightfully interesting and dry style. Great job!

I loved how Haa-Rei noted the upper cells were for lollygaggers and the lower cells for murderers and such.

Very neat seeing this familiar sequence from kind of an ‘aftermath’ perspective. The cell, captain, rats, zombie and poor old Gilroy. Sounds like Haa-Rei is about to meet Baurus.


Nit? Not quite sure what you meant by where you have ‘gaolers’ here:
“I’m not sure if I should be impressed by how quick these gaolers work…” I mumbled to myself.’

[ghastley]

It's always fun to see familiar scenes from a different person's viewpoint, and following the party (and prisoner) works well here.

I assume, like Acadian, that it isn't the Emperor's voice? (Although I find gaolers is a perfectly cromulent word).

This post has been edited by ghastley: Nov 13 2015, 02:56 AM

[hazmick]

DE - Good to know you're still around, and even better to hear that you're enjoying it.

Acadian - Thanks! And apologies for the terminology. Gaolers, meaning 'jailers', is a deliciously archaic word that you'll often find in medieval-themed literature.

ghastley - I'm glad the perspective works. I'm trying to work Haa-Rei into the story without it being his story...if that makes sense.



Previously - Haa-Rei made his way through the ruins under the Imperial City, following an unknown group of people. Finally, he's caught up with them...

Chapter 21

A figure emerged out of the gloom, silver armour spattered with blood. A Blade. The two extra swords on his belt indicated that he was the companion of the others I’d seen. He removed his helm, revealing his youthful Redguard face.

"I am Baurus, knight of the Blades. Who are you? Why are you down here?” He placed his helm under one arm, while his other hand gripped the handle of his sword, still sheathed. His face was coated with blood and grime, except for two clean tracks leading from his eyes to his chin. He’d been crying.

“I’m Haa-Rei. Agent. I was sent here to help, but…” I lowered my bow. If he was the last of the guards, then he would have died before abandoning the Emperor. That he was alive was a bad sign.

Baurus lowered his head and stepped to the side, revealing the small room behind him and the body therein.

“The Emperor…is dead.”

I took a few steps forward and bowed my head. I wasn’t ever sure what I thought of the Emperor, but here he lay. He looked old, but strong, dressed in purple robes which looked as expensive as one would expect. Baurus had lain the body in a peaceful pose, with a sword in his hand.

“I’m sorry.” I said after a while. I understood the concept of human emotion enough to know that this sort of thing was often quite difficult for them. For the young Blade this would be even more so.

“So am I,” Baurus said quietly. “but we still have work to do.” By ‘we’ I assumed he meant me, and I turned to face him.

“What would you have me do?” I asked. Truthfully I was a higher rank, and thus should give him orders, but considering the situation (and my dislike for telling people what to do) I thought it best to let him take the lead.

“I have sent a…courier…to Jauffre at Weynon Priory with news of tonight’s events and a high value package. I’d like you to head there and confirm the delivery. It’s important.” Weynon Priory was the home of the Blades’ Grandmaster, Jauffre, but I knew nothing about him. This would be an interesting trip.

“I’ll head there at once. What was the package?”

The young Blade was silent for a while, clearly deciding whether I was trustworthy enough. Finally he spoke:

“The Amulet of Kings. The Emperor trusted the pri- courier with it before he died.”

I stood aghast for a moment. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to say that. Baurus spoke again to snap me out of my momentary lapse of concentration.

“I’ll stay here until help arrives. Take this path through the sewers.” He motioned to an opening in the wall behind him, and I took that as my cue to leave.

The ruins properly gave way to sewers here, but the courier I was following had dealt with any dangers. Several dead rats, two dead goblins, and a mudcrab.

I finally emerged into the cool morning air, and promptly slipped over on a patch of wet grass, landing with a thud in a sitting position. I remained there for a few minutes while I tried to absorb all that had happened.

The Emperor and all of his sons were dead. Of course this was bad news for them, but it was also bad news for the entire civilised world. Unless the Elder Council were a lot more competent than everyone said they were, there would be utter chaos within a matter of days. If a group of assassins can make it into the heart of the Imperial City, then the Empire might not be as strong as they appear, and foreign powers will be certain to take note of this.

What worried me most however was the Amulet of Kings. Without it, there would be no way to relight the dragon fires that keep Oblivion at bay. The Daedra would not hesitate to exploit this opportunity. The spines on my head tingled with uneasiness.

I clambered to my feet to get my bearings. The Imperial City rose up behind me, which meant that the body of water at my feet was Lake Rumare. An Ayleid ruin sat on a small island ahead. If I was reading my map correctly then I was near the prison, facing in a north-easterly direction.

I set off in the direction I hoped to be West, but stopped again when I saw movement ahead. Dropping to a crouch, I crept forward and took cover behind a large boulder. A mudcrab splashed around in the shallow water to my right, a chilly breeze whistled through the trees. Then I saw her. It was Sjöfn.

I quickly debated the pros and cons of talking to her, but the mudcrab decided for me when he skittered over and attempted to chop off my foot with his large claws. His shell made a satisfying crunch as I drove my sword through it.

“Haa-Rei?” Sjöfn appeared in front of me, obviously confused at my sudden and dramatic appearance.

“Oh, hello.” I said with as much surprise as I could muster. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Scouting.” She pointed to the ruin across the water. “You?”

“Me? I’m…” think, Haa-Rei, think “…going to Chorrol for my Mages Guild recommendation.”

If the Nord knew I was lying (which she clearly did) she was too polite to pry. Instead she turned and set off in the opposite direction of the ruin, calling over her shoulder as she went:

“I’ll join you, if you don’t mind. I hear Chorrol is gorgeous this time of year.”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times before giving up on talking. At least I’ll have someone to talk to on the way, I suppose.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:13 AM

[ghastley]

"The Emperor and all of his sons were dead. Of course this was bad news for them"

Very reminiscent of "1066 and All That" - have you read it?

[Acadian]

I love how Baurus almost said prisoner instead of courier. That makes for a nice anchor to the game’s events under the prison. Poor Baurus.

Ahah! Looks like Haa-Rei has a traveling companion to Chorrol. It’ll be interesting to see how he handles both Sjöfn and Jauffre once they get there.


Nit - ‘I set of in the direction I hoped to be West, ...’ - Off vs of?

[Grits]

It’s always heart-wrenching to meet Baurus on what was probably the worst day of his life, at least his life so far. That was a beautifully done scene. I had to smile at Baurus’s “courier.” The choices they had to make under that prison would be hard to explain in calm daylight.

“Oh, hello.” I said with as much surprise as I could muster.

Smooth! I’m delighted that Sjöfn is going to Chorrol with Haa Rei!

[hazmick]

ghastley - I haven't, but I looked it up and it sounds like my cup of tea.

Acadian - I haven't quite decided what's going to happen in Chorrol yet. We'll have to wait and see. Having a feisty redheaded Nord around can only spell trouble fun times.

Grits - Yeah, when you look at the events of the sewers from an outside perspective, the whole thing sounds crazy. I wasn't sure whether Sjöfn would be joining us, then it just sort of happened. Haa-Rei is also delighted.




Previously - Haa-Rei met Baurus, a young Blade, and learned that the Emperor had been assassinated. Baurus then sent Haa-Rei on a quest to Weynon Priory, to meet the mysterious Grandmaster Jauffre...

Chapter 22

The island which the Imperial City sits on is quite large. It’s even larger when you have to traverse it on a cold, damp morning after a night of fighting. My original plan was to follow the outer walls of the city until I reached the stables and the bridge. Fortunately I had Sjöfn with me.

Her plan was to head more or less straight to Chorrol, as the crow flies. We followed the northern edge of the Imperial Isle until we came to a wooden bridge, which looked highly unofficial (no Imperial guards or flags in sight) but no doubt shaved an hour or two off my journey. We paused for a moment once we’d crossed the bridge. My legs wobbled slightly with fatigue.

“When was the last time you ate? Or slept?” Sjöfn asked.

“Oh, y’know…I’m fine.” I lied. In truth I was cold, tired, and hungry.

“All the same, I think we should have some breakfast.”

We sat on a low, crumbling wall which overlooked the lake. The rising sun behind us caused the water to shimmer like liquid gold. The main bridge could be seen in the distance, and I was thankful that we didn’t have to walk the extra distance. I added the newly discovered (unofficial) bridge to my map while Sjöfn prepared breakfast.

It was a simple meal of bacon, tomatoes, and mushrooms, but it tasted fantastic. I’ve never been much of a breakfast lizard (as it requires one to wake up before noon), but this particular meal is one of my fondest memories. Sjöfn and I ate in a comfortable silence, and as the sun began to warm my scales I could feel the strength returning to my tired limbs.

After breakfast, we set off again. After a small detour around an old fort, we headed in the direction of Chorrol. If Jötnar and Olorin had been with us we would have had to follow the main road, but with just the two of us we could easily move through the forest.

The Great Forest (for that is what it is called) certainly lives up to its name. The southern edge of the forest borders Skingrad, whilst the northern edge borders Bruma. It is home to a vast array of plants and animals, and I loved it.

By noon the forest had well and truly woken up. Birds sang to each other as they whizzed through the branches, rabbits darted between the bushes in their hunt for food, and every so often a great brown bear could be seen in the distance, no doubt searching for berries (which were more than plentiful). It was pleasantly warm, even though the trees shielded us from the sun with their vast branches.

“Kyn’s breath, this place is wonderful.” Sjöfn was positively beaming, one hand holding the wooden amulet around her neck.

“You worship Kyn?” My question was more of a conversation starter than an actual inquiry.

“Aye. All hunters do. Though most people outside of Skyrim call her ‘Kynareth’.” She emphasised ‘most people’ and turned to me, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I spent some time on Solstheim a little while ago. Picked up some bits and pieces of Nord beliefs from the locals.” I explained.

“Solstheim? Now that is a place with traditional Nord beliefs.” She paused before continuing, evidently unsure about asking the next question. “Were you there with the Legion?”

After a brief pause I decided that it would be best to tell the truth:

“I…yes. How did you guess?”

“I didn’t. Jötnar did. He said you use a sword like a Legionnaire.” She explained further before I could ask. “He’s in the Legion too. He’s on leave at the moment though.”

I was shocked. Partially because my secret was out purely based on my combat technique, but mainly because Jötnar was in the Imperial Legion too. The thought of him trying to squeeze his huge arms into a Legion uniform almost made me laugh out loud.

“Is this trip to Chorrol Legion business too?” Sjöfn asked.

“Sort of. I can’t really talk about it.” I immediately wanted to apologise for sounding so rude, but Sjöfn didn’t seem to mind.

“A secret mission? Well that is exciting.” She laughed, then continued “Sorry for prying. I hope you don’t think I was being rude. Just curious.”

“It’s fine, I enjoy talking to you.” She smiled at that, and we continued our journey in silence.

It was late afternoon when we finally emerged from the forest. Our route had saved us several hours of travel, and the walls of Chorrol rose up in front of us. We’d climbed a hill to get here, and when I turned around we were high enough to see over the entire forest, to the Imperial City in the distance. Already the events of the previous evening felt like they’d occurred a week ago.

“I’ll head into town and see about finding an inn. You go and do…whatever it is you’re here to do, and then come find me.” Sjöfn winked and set off before I could either agree or protest.

I looked around and saw some buildings peering out of the trees to the south, which I took to be Weynon Priory, and headed in that direction.

I wasn’t sure what I thought the home of the Blades’ Grandmaster would look like, but this small collection of buildings certainly wasn’t what I had in mind. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a monastery (which is the point, I know). I assumed the central building housed living quarters, while the small cottages looked to be the homes of the farmers which were out in the fields. The only other buildings were a small stables and a small chapel. The population seemed to consist primarily of sheep, who eyed me suspiciously as I headed toward the main building.

It wasn’t very large, about the size of your average Imperial townhouse, but it still dwarfed the hovels around it. The large wooden doors featured a heavy iron door-knocker, and the sound seemed to echo through the whole building when I knocked.

Time to meet my boss.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:14 AM

[Acadian]

Sjöfn is definitely a keeper! She can cook, likes Kyne/Kynareth and makes nice conversation. Haa-Rei merely needs to ensure she can make tea and he is good to go!

How neat that Haa-Rei’s Legion affiliation could be detected by his sword fighting technique.

I loved the rich detail you provided as they traversed the Great Forest – birds, trees, bunnies. . . .

Sjöfn really is cool – how she smoothly goes on to seek an inn, leaving him to his ‘secret mission’.

Looking forward to our Argonian’s meeting with Jauffre.

[ghastley]

I’ve never been much of a breakfast lizard (as it requires one to wake up before noon),

Is this because he's an Argonian, or does he consider himself a student?

Still if he persuades Sjöfn to keep him warm, maybe he'll find it easier to get out of bed, ... or not.

[hazmick]

Acadian - You're forgetting Sjöfn's greatest asset...she's a bowgirl! Everyone loves bowgirls.

ghastley - The former, though I think we all love a good lie-in.




Previously - Haa-Rei and Sjöfn made their way toward Chorrol, and while his companion went to find an inn, Haa-Rei went to find Jauffre...

Chapter 23

A small panel on the door was opened, and I could see a pair of eyes peering out at me.

“Yes?” They asked.

“I’m here to see…Jauffre.” I hesitated briefly, unsure who else was aware of Jauffre’s true identity. Blowing his cover was not likely to end well for me.

The panel closed and the doors swung open. A black-robed monk, who was the owner of the aforementioned eyes, ushered me inside.

“Upstairs, on the right.”

The monastery, for that is what it was, seemed smaller on the inside than the outer structure would suggest. I was in a large seating area, a set of stairs in front of me branched off to the left and right. Several monks were busy reading and writing in various corners of the room, and they ignored me as I made my way upstairs.

Jauffre’s office was very plain. A pile of desks and chairs occupied one side, while the man himself sat at a desk in the corner. The wall behind me as I entered was a shelf, with a range of stone mugs and plates on display. A door in the corner had been disguised as a cabinet (There was no base on it, like a real cabinet would have), which explained why the building looked smaller. Just how many secret nooks and crannies does this building have?

I approached Jauffre’s desk and stood to attention, my Legion training briefly resurfacing.

“Agent Haa-Rei. Baurus sent me to confirm the delivery of a package. Sir.” I spoke as loudly as I dared. I was suddenly very conscious of eavesdroppers, and internally decided that I’d read too many adventure novels.

“I was hoping he’d come himself, but I suppose you’ll do. You don’t have to whisper either, we’re safe enough in my own home.” He didn’t look up from whatever it was that he was writing, and his voice sounded neither friendly nor unfriendly.

He was old. At least as old as the Emperor, but with a great deal less hair (As is the fashion with the modern monk). He wore an old brown robe, which looked as if it was being held together by ink stains and crumbs. The best way to disguise yourself as a monk is apparently to just become a monk.

“Yes sir.” I was unsure what to say. Do I just leave now? Do I ask for more orders?

“I have a new task for you. The courier you followed here has been sent on a mission of critical importance to the city of Kvatch. You are to follow, and make sure they are successful.” Again, he didn’t look up, but I nodded anyway. “Dismissed.”

As I made my way across the room and down the stairs, I could feel eyes watching me. I didn’t realise I’d been holding my breath until I got outside and released a large sigh.

So that was my boss? He certainly wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d met a high ranking member of the Blades before – a man by the name of Caius Cosades in Morrowind. He had been undercover as a skooma addict while he held together the eastern spy network for the Empire. Jauffre was different, perhaps because he was a warrior rather than a spy, but he had an aura of strength and authority about him. He had also given me a mission, and with that in mind I made my way towards Chorrol to find Sjöfn and plan my journey to Kvatch.


Of the eight major towns in Cyrodiil, Chorrol is my favourite. From the surrounding forests to the town itself, everything is utterly beautiful. This was my first visit, and it certainly wouldn’t be my last.

I paused for a moment when I entered the southern gates and looked around. To my right was the path leading to the castle – its sturdy walls manned by guards in dark blue, bearing the tree of Chorrol on their chests and shields. Ahead of me was a statue of a fallen warrior, in the embrace of a woman - both of whom made an excellent perch for a group of sparrows. The town stretched further in that direction, under the gaze of the mountains. To my left was another street that led to the chapel. The tavern also sat on this street, so I headed that way.

The Oak and Crosier, for that was the taverns name, seemed to be the most popular destination in Chorrol. Fortunately the building was enormous, and looked as though it could accommodate everyone in town with room to spare. As I entered the building I was enveloped in a blanket of warmth. The air was filled with the sound of laughter and conversation, and the scent of wine and wood smoke. News of the Emperor's death was yet to reach the town. I spied Sjöfn sitting in the corner and went to join her.

She was writing in a journal as I approached, a glass of wine resting in one hand while the other held a quill. It wasn’t until I sat down that she became aware of my presence. The look of surprise on her face was almost immediately washed away by a bright smile. Before I could speak she made her announcement:

“We’ve been given a quest!”

Oh dear.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:15 AM

[Acadian]

An interesting and brief meeting with the standoffish (sitoffish?) Jauffre as Haa-Rei picks up his next assignment.

Your description of Chorrol was wonderful, from the sparrows on the statue to the smell of wine and smoke in the tavern. And telling Sjöfn about his plans to visit Kvatch is pre-empted, for it seems his traveling partner has found a quest of her own!

[ghastley]

“We’ve been given a quest!”

Oh dear.

We've been given a quest, hopefully it will still be we when the reward is given.

But then, Haa-Rei's been given a quest, which is just duty.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Feb 3 2016, 03:59 PM

[Grits]

I love how Haa-Rei spotted the secret room door right away. His impression of Jauffre made me grin, from the blunt He was old to the mention of Jauffre’s aura of strength and authority.

What a lovely introduction to the warm and wonderful city of Chorrol just before news of the crisis reaches it. Uh oh, Sjöfn of the bright smile has a quest for them? Dour Jauffre’s job may have to wait!

[hazmick]

Acadian - Yep, isn't that just the way of things? You start one quest, then end up finding a dozen more on the way

ghastley - That's a good point. The drawback of working with others is that they always want you to share the loot!

Grits - Yeah I'm sure Jauffre won't mind that we thought a cute Nord's request was more important than his. Besides, it's not like Kvatch is going anywhere, right?



EVERYONE - I couldn't find a good place to stop, so this chapter ended up being twice as long as usual. What sort of length is good for you guys as readers? I'm conscious of things being either too wordy or too brief so all suggestions are welcome.


Previously - After a brief meeting with the grumpy grandmaster, Haa-Rei returned to Chorrol where Sjöfn informed him that she'd found them a quest...

Chapter 24


We set out from Chorrol the next morning, heading south. My Nord companion was practically bouncing with excitement as we moved through the forest.

“So let’s go over it again,” I began, “We’ve been asked to find and rescue a girl, from a village that nobody seems to have heard of.” I was feeling anxious that we had so little to go on.

“Right. The girl is called Dar-Ma, an Argonian. The village is called Hackdirt. Oh, and the girl has a horse with her. Called Blossom.” The lack of information didn’t seem to bother Sjöfn, and I was worried that her seemingly blind optimism would get us into trouble.

Hackdirt lay a few miles South of Chorrol. Our plan was to find this girl, and then go our separate ways – Sjöfn to Chorrol and myself to Kvatch. I was glad that my companion would be heading back, as I had a very distinct bad feeling about the whole situation.

“I think this is it.” Sjöfn whispered excitedly. We’d arrived.

Hackdirt, as the name suggests, is a rather unpleasant place. Years before our arrival, the Imperial Legion had razed it to the ground after the residents had turned to Daedra worship and human sacrifice. As Sjöfn and I walked through the village, it was barely evident that people still lived there. Of the dozen or so buildings, only 5 had been repaired or rebuilt. The spines on my head tingled to warn me of danger.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” I warned Sjöfn, resting my hand on the pommel of my sword.

“Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.” Sjöfn said with a wink and a giggle, and set off to talk to a scruffy looking resident who’d just emerged from the village store.

I caught up in time to hear him grumble something about ‘outsiders’ before he stormed off.

“Helpful?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Rude,” she replied, still smiling, “let’s look around a bit. We’ll split up to cover more ground.”

I didn’t like the sound of splitting up, but I could see the sense in it. I nodded and headed toward the inn, but stopped when I heard a noise. It sounded like…a horse?

The horse in question was standing in the shell of a burnt cottage. Fully tacked and ready for a trek through the forest.

“No food or water in here, and you’re all dressed up to go out. You must be Blossom.” The mare snorted again as I patted her neck. Now all I needed was to find the girl and get going. Perhaps it won’t be so difficult after all.

“You.” A whispered voice called from behind, but I’d heard them approach and managed to avoid jumping out of my skin.

“Me?” I turned to see a man standing a few feet away.

He was an Imperial, with a round face and short grey hair. His outfit seemed to have once been some leather pants and a linen shirt, but he’d patched it up with so many other bits and pieces that it looked more like a patchwork quilt. The most startling thing about him was his eyes, they were enormous.

“Sssh, we can’t talk here or they’ll get suspicious. The girl is in danger. Get your friend and meet me at my house, on the other side of town. Quickly.” He looked around nervously as he spoke, and left before I could answer.

I turned to look at Blossom, but she had little to say about the situation so I left her where she was and went to find Sjöfn. As I emerged into the village square, Sjöfn was exiting the chapel. She hurried over, and I told her about our invitation to the strange gentleman’s house.

“If you thought that was weird, look at this.” She ushered me out of sight and produced a large book from her pack. “I…found it in the chapel.”

The tome, called the Bible of the Deep Ones, was written entirely in a form of Daedric that I hadn’t seen before. Apparently the town’s Daedric history wasn’t history at all.

“Daedric. We should hurry.” I had nothing against Daedra worship, but in this case I had severe doubts that these folks were anything like the harmless Daedra worshippers you find at wilderness shrines. I lead the way to the meeting place, a small cottage just outside of town.

Inside, the cottage was as plain and scruffy as its owner, who was warming himself by the small fireplace. Aside from the fireplace, there was a bed, some empty shelves, and a cupboard. The man ushered us inside and bolted the door behind us.

“You came. Good. We don't have much time,” He paused for a second and glanced nervously out of the window, “You have to believe me, I didn't know what they were planning. They want to bring back the Deep Ones. I thought I did, too, but ... she's so innocent. They've got her down in the caverns. They're going to sacrifice her, you understand? You've got to save her! Here, take this key. It'll open any of the trapdoors down to the caves. Every house in town has one. The one in Moslin's Inn is your best bet. Nearest where she's being held.” He spoke so quickly that I had to wait a moment to take it all in.

“Easy there. Who are ‘they’? What’s a Deep One?” Sjöfn asked, her voice visibly soothing the man.

“I don't know much. Never seen them myself. Our grandfathers first found them, I think, digging in the mines. They helped us. Made us rich. But there was a terrible price. Blood -- and worse.” He paused for breath before continuing, “I was only a boy when the soldiers came. We hid, vowed revenge. But the Deep Ones never came back. Etira found some old books. Learned the runes, how to speak to them again. But they want blood, she says, or they'll not help us.”

“We should hurry to the inn then.” Sjöfn suggested.

“Wait. You said every house has a trapdoor. Does that include this one?” I asked. The man nodded dumbly. “If we go to the inn we’re likely to be spotted. I’d rather get in and out without anyone seeing us.” I had my doubts that the townsfolk would just let us wander in and out of their secret caverns with their sacrifice.

Sjöfn nodded and the man opened a trapdoor in the corner for us. He stopped to warn us before we went in:

“Those of us who've changed the most, we call The Brethren. Live down in the caves, to be nearer the Deep Ones. They don't like the sunlight much. Dangerous, too. You'll want to avoid them if you can help it.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, then climbed down the ladder and into the cavern.

It was dark. With no torches or signs of life at all. It was a wonder anyone could actually live down here, but in hindsight it was the perfect place for a murderous Daedric cult. The smell was the worst part though. An indescribable mix of rotten meat, men, and mud. I readied my bow, and Sjöfn followed my lead, but not until she’d tied a square of cloth around her nose and mouth to block out the smell.

We moved through the caverns as slowly as we could, ever alert for the mysterious ‘Brethren’ that we’d been warned about. When we encountered the first one I barely recognised it as a human at all.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of old breeches. His pale skin was covered in filth and blood, his back was crooked from years of walking through low tunnels. His hair fell in a greasy mess around his shoulders, covering his face. A crude wooden club hung at his waist. We froze when we saw him, but even at this distance I could smell him, and apparently he could smell us.

He stopped rooting around in a pile of filth at his feet, and turned toward us with mace drawn. He brought a hand to his face to move some hair out of the way, revealing a pair of impossibly large eyes. He was utterly grotesque, and he was coming right at us.

I was the quickest, and loosed an arrow which struck him square in the chest. Sjöfn’s arrow lodged itself in his shoulder a second later. The creature stumbled and went down, landing heavily on the stone floor. I moved forward cautiously and prodded him with my bow, but he was dead.

“By the Hist. That must be one of The Brethren. How did…he…see us from so far away?”

“Let’s just find Dar-Ma and get out of here.” Sjöfn wasn’t smiling anymore.

We met three more Brethren in the tunnels, and left each of them lying in the dirt with two arrows for company. The cavern system was enormous, with half a dozen tunnels branching off in every direction. We were moving towards what we hoped was the inn on the surface, and eventually found the right path, and Dar-Ma.

She was sitting in the corner of a large metal cage. The floor of her cell was liberally scattered with bones, and a few bits of straw that might have once made a rather comfortable bed. She was wearing a cream coloured dress, with a brown bodice and matching shoes. The dress was stained with mud and torn in several places. She looked up as we approached, but said nothing. She was young, younger than me, with bright eyes and bright scales. She spoke to us in a hurried whisper as Sjöfn started picking the lock on her cell.

“You’re here to rescue me?” She asked in a surprisingly un-Argonian accent.

“Yes. I’m with the Legion, and she’s with…your mother.” I hoped it would reassure her, but a noise from one of the tunnels drew my attention. Two of the Brethren. “Get her out of here. I should be able to deal with these two.” I didn’t need to look at Sjöfn to know she’d agree.

As the first Brethren fell to my arrow, the cage door clicked and swung open. Dar-Ma and Sjöfn hurried towards a ladder which would lead to the surface.

The second Brethren had closed the distance, and I dropped my bow to draw my sword. Even though he was using a heavy wooden club, the man-creatures attacks were brutally quick. All I could do was parry and dodge, looking for an opening to attack. He began shouting incoherently and drew back for a large swing, and I followed suit, swinging my sword in a large arc toward his chest. Our weapons met halfway, and the wooden club exploded in a shower of rotten splinters. My sword kept going, slicing the unarmoured torso from shoulder to hip. He fell to the ground like a sack of grain, and shuddered once before moving no more. I picked up my discarded bow and hurried to the ladder, the sound of bare feet shuffling toward me through the caves.

I emerged in the inn, which was deserted. The door stood open and I could see Sjöfn and Dar-Ma, now mounted on Blossom, standing outside. I quickly joined them, and turned back to see a Brethren pop his head out of the trapdoor. Even that brief glimpse of sunlight was enough to send him reeling back into the caves. We were safe.

“Well. That was more excitement than I thought it’d be. I’m glad I brought you along.” Sjöfn’s smile had returned, but I could tell she was still a little shaken from our jaunt through the caves. It occurred to me then that she’d always had Jötnar and Olorin with her, and part of me wanted to accompany her back to Chorrol. The other part of me realised that she was a talented huntress and I had nothing to worry about, so I gave her a quest of my own.

“Take this,” I began scribbling a note down on a piece of parchment, “to the captain of the guard in Chorrol, along with that book you found. They need to know what happened.” I signed my name and rank at the bottom of the note, and handed it over.

“You’re always thinking, aren’t you?” Sjöfn scanned the note and tucked it into her pack. “Have a safe trip.”

After thanking me again, Dar-Ma coaxed Blossom into setting off back to Chorrol, and Sjöfn followed closely after waving goodbye.

I turned and made my way out of Hackdirt, only stopping once I could no longer see it behind me and smell it on the wind.

“Right then,” I said to myself, “Onwards to Kvatch.”

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:15 AM

[Acadian]

’My Nord companion was practically bouncing with excitement as we moved through the forest.’ - - Ah yes, a Nordic woman bouncing through the forest is a sight to behold!

Woot! The ‘Rescue Dar-Ma’ quest!

Nice touch that you did not overlook the sense of smell as our intrepid duo entered the caves.

Well done to both Haa-Rei and Sjöfn. So nice that Dar-Ma and Blossom are safely headed home.

So it seems Haa-Rei will be continuing on alone to Kvatch then?

*

Since you asked about episode length. . . . This is just the opinion of one humble reader/writer. I like episodes that range between 1200 – 1600 words. Much under 800 words risks leaving the reader perhaps unsatisfied. Flirting with ~2000+ words invites skimming and risks readers not giving full attention/justice to what you do write. My opinions are based upon posting one episode per week. Writers who post more frequently probably want shorter episodes (<1000 words), and those who post less often than once a week might consider just slightly longer episodes (closer to 2000 words).

I do know exactly what you mean about the challenge of breaking your story into the right-sized pieces. The only time I ever really ran into problems with that is when the first part of an episode might leave the reader with an undesired impression that is clarified only by continuing. I wrestled with one such episode in Buffy’s story where Savlian seemed to decline the very clear opportunity to kiss Buffy. To break the story there would have led to unwanted speculation regarding his motivation. Only by continuing into what became an episode of about 2100 words did it become clear all in one sitting why he did so.

Another tip is having plenty ahead written up before beginning to post. That way you can consider shuffling ‘scenes’ around as you juggle them into episodes.

In your case here, it seems this episode could have been cleanly broken very near the middle, closing the first part with “Thank you.” I nodded, then climbed down the ladder and into the cavern.’

Let me reiterate that my ramblings about episode length are just that. Based on experience of plenty of fanfic reading and posting, yes, but simply an opinion. I hope you will consider my thoughts but, ultimately, it is more important that you write for you and what feels right to you and your character.

[Grits]

hazmick, the times I have trouble with lengthy reading is when a story has mostly 2,000+ word updates posted more often than weekly. Then I have to skim just to keep up. Your story has been a great pace for me, so a longer than usual post is not a problem. I tend to wait to read Haa-Rei’s story until I have time to enjoy and think about it without interruptions, so I’m usually late with replies. I hope that doesn’t seem like disinterest – it’s quite the opposite! I’m interested enough to want to give my best attention. I think Acadian’s advice is right on the mark.


“Yes. I’m with the Legion, and she’s with…your mother.”

Gosh, I loved this line.

I enjoyed the delightful Haa-Rei thoughts throughout his Hackdirt adventure. Lovely to see both Dar-Ma and Blossom on their way back to safety, accompanied by the bouncy and buoyant Sjöfn!

[hazmick]

Acadian - Your ramblings are always welcome I think you're definitely right about 2000 being too much, it would become a bit of a chore if I had to try and keep that up every week. 1000-ish it is, then.

Grits - I'm glad the regular pace suits you. We'll stick with that.

Heh, as soon as I wrote that line I was reminded of high school, when teachers would use "I'll phone your mother" as the ultimate threat of punishment. Depending on the mother in question, it varies in effectiveness.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Sjöfn completed a daring rescue in the shady town of Hackdirt, and Haa-Rei set out alone for the city of Kvatch...

Chapter 25


The continent of Cyrodiil is roughly broken up into 10 regions, such as The Great Forest, The Gold Coast, and The Nibenay Basin. After leaving Hackdirt I headed South-West, into the region known as The Imperial Reserve.

The Imperial Reserve stretches from the Jerall Mountains in the North, to Kvatch in the South, and is quite the opposite of the neighbouring forest land. The Reserve has very few trees, with scrubland and open plains making up the vast majority of the landscape. To the untrained eye it may appear rather bleak, but amongst the hardy shrubs and withered heath there is an abundance of wildlife.

Rabbit burrows crisscross in a huge underground network, while herds of deer eat their way back and forth across the surface. Wolves stalk the fringes of the forest, while lions creep across the plains. Now, I was there too.

It was a warm day in the forest, but a refreshing breeze blew in from the west as I moved further into the reserve. I took a deep breath, tasting the scents on the air. I could smell deer and rabbit, and another scent which I couldn’t quite put my claw on despite it being quite familiar.

My plan was to head in a straight line towards Kvatch, and I calculated that I’d only need to make camp once or twice along the way. Plans don’t always go as we want them to however, and this was certainly to be the case.

“There’s that smell again…” I muttered to myself. The familiar scent hit me whenever the wind blew, and I found myself following it before long.

After half an hour or so, I found the source. It was fire. Not a campfire, but rather a solid, vertical wall of fire about twice my height and several times my width. A ring of floating black rock seemed to be holding it together.

A small creature stalked around it. For those in the know, this was a Scamp. For those who don’t know…it’s hard to describe such an odd looking creature. Roughly the size and shape of a young human, but with brown fur, claws, and the face of a particularly ugly cat. They also throw fireballs, so I wasted no time in taking it down, my arrow punching deep into the creature’s frail body.

The rest of the scamp’s comrades, already deceased, were strewn around the area alongside the bodies of several lions. From the looks of things the fire wall had appeared right in the middle of this pride. Regardless, seeing the scamps made me realise what the scent was. Daedra.

I’d smelled it before, in the Daedric ruins of Morrowind, and many times whilst summoning my own Daedric allies. It was so out of place here that I hadn’t recognised it earlier.

“One mystery solved, but one more opens. What on Nirn is this thing?” I asked myself, now standing in front of the fire wall. The flames weren’t very hot, but the land was scorched and blackened in a large circled around me. There was a roaring sound emanating from it, but it was as if the sound was in my head rather than being heard. I needed help.

These days I am considered to be something of an expert in Daedric matters, but back then, on that day in the reserve, I was a complete novice. When wanting to learn more of Daedra, who better to ask but another Daedra? With that in mind, I summoned Eithne the Flame Atronach.

She appeared between myself and the fire wall, and for a moment I could barely see her, so camouflaged was she against the fiery backdrop. As always she floated several inches above the ground, so as not to burn anything more than was necessary. Not that it mattered here.

“Master.” She greeted me. Her sing-song voice cutting through the fire’s roar.

“Hello Eithne. I was wondering if you knew what this was.” I gestured at the wall. She turned in a flowing somersault motion and tilted her head, examining the fiery surface.

“I’m not sure what the Cyrodiilic word for it is. Perhaps…gate?”

“A gate? To where?” I asked in surprise. As far as I could see, this solid wall of fire looked nothing like a gate, but I trusted my friend’s word.

“Oblivion, of course.” She replied in a tone that suggested I was stupid to even ask, and did another somersault.

“Of course. What’s it doing here though?” Now I was curious. I’d never heard of Oblivion gates, let alone those that just popped up in the countryside willy nilly, and I wasn’t sure if I was all too pleased with the idea of it.

“I’m not sure. Technically it shouldn’t be allowed, unless…I don’t suppose you’ve lost an Emperor recently?” She turned back to face me, and tilted her head again in curiosity.

“As a matter of fact, yes. He was killed very recently, but I don’t see what- oh, the dragonfires!”

The dragonfires were, as the name suggests, fires from a dragon. Specifically, they were said to be created from the blood of Akatosh, the dragon god. They were also said to protect Nirn from Daedric incursion, and had been alight for…well, a very long time, thanks to the Amulet of Kings being in the possession of the Emperors of Cyrodiil. Without the Emperor and the amulet, the dragonfires would not be relit, and Daedra would be free to mooch about Nirn as and when they please.

“Yes. It would seem that Nirn is being invaded.” Eithne said again. Her silky voice was completely at odds with her words, which made it sound as if a demon invasion was of little importance.

“If a gate can be opened, I suppose one could close it. Right?” I asked, prodding the stone base of the gate with my foot.

“Of course…you’re going to try it, aren’t you?” She asked. If atronachs had eyebrows, one of hers would have been raised in my direction.

“Well, it’s bad manners to leave a door open.” I checked my gear to make sure everything was in order, and gestured towards the gate. “After you, my lady.”

Eithne sighed, and entered the gate, her slim body vanishing into the surface of the fire like a pebble through water. After another look around, in case this was to be my last sight of Nirn, I followed her.

Onward, to Oblivion.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:16 AM

[ghastley]

Clearly not Kvatch's gate, as Someone Else™ is dealing with that one.

It makes sense that Haa-Rei is able to talk to Eithne, or else how would he know her name? And I like his logic about closing a gate that someone carelessly left open, in this case after the scamps get out.