Rashelle At Lokken, WWOLM fanfic Options

[blockhead]

Around the end of February and the beginning of March I posted a short fan fiction on a small intimate forum and there were some positive responses. This story is being posted here on the chorrol forums as I am eager to see the responses from the larger fanfic-oriented crowd here. This seems to be where the "pros" of the Morrowind fanfic world congregate,

This will be posted this in sections, serialized as it was originally. It would be easy to just post the entire thing all at once but I thought it would be more fun not to.

This story is based on the main quest of Emma's "White Wolf Of Lokken Mountain" plugin. It contains spoilers.


Rashelle At Lokken
by Blockhead

1. Arrival, Tension

Snow. The ground covered with it. The trees white with it. The late afternoon sun reflecting off of it. The landscape was that of a magical wonderland. My adventures in Solstheim had not reduced my wonder at this phenomena. I had never seen snow where I grew up and there was certainly none in Vvardenfell.

Although I was the Nerevarine and an experienced adventurer, I arrived at Lokken gawking and gaping like a tourist at the Imperial City.

The Lokken leaflet had been in my pack for some time and I had finally decided to see what it was all about. I had no great desire to hunt animals merely for sport (as advertised) but I have always liked to explore new places.

My adamantium boots crunched on the snow as I stepped out from the boat.

"You had better talk to Ragnar Fire Hair before you do anything else, lass. Without his permission, you are not allowed to be here", admonished the boatman again.

Yeah, whatever.

I paused to look around some more. Ahead lay the village, the road ahead rising up towards the mountain. Up further, to the left, could be seen the castle, covered with snow and looking amazing, like a fairy land castle in some painting.

As I slowly walked up the road I tried to stop and chat with some people but they all seemed preoccupied ... no ... afraid. At first I thought it was me, all decked out in my ebony cuirass, dark brotherhood greaves, adamantium boots, and the sword Chrysamere on my back. That and my bare arms making me look more a barbarian than a spell-sword could perhaps be intimidating. I suppose also my coal-black eyes and coal-black hair (an odd color for a Breton) marking me as Not A Nord did not put anyone at ease.

Several people had white hair. It was not the usual blond that Nords tend to, nor a light gray. It was a bright white, like snow. I had only seen such a pure white on the fur of snow bears and other animals. Something in the water perhaps?

A woman who did not have white hair (it was brown) was little friendlier. When I approached her she said "Hello there. Your face doesn't look familiar to me. I'm Silja. Welcome to Lokken. Don't expect to find much here, though. This is a poor village. Since we are not allowed to hunt in the forests anymore, it's hard for us to get by. I assume you have been invited by our chieftain, Ragnar Fire Hair, and that you have his permission to hunt? If not, you had better stay away from the Lokken wildlife."

I thanked her and walked up the road a little further before a guard named Gudmund also told me that it was very important that I see Ragnar Fire Hair first.

"I will, but first could you direct me to a trader or general store? I may need some warmer clothing."

That generated a smile and some directions the Lokken Clothier. I actually did not need the clothing. Despite my origin in warmer climes, I have an unusual tolerance, actually an affinity, for cold weather. What I was wearing now was comfortable and the only concession to cold I had was a sleeping fur in my pack. Still I had broken the ice a little bit. That was progress. It also gave me an excuse to try to talk to at least one more person before heading for the castle.

I walked into the clothing shop. I briefly talked with the woman there, Anna. She was also nervous like the people outside but gave away some more information. The people here were in fear, but from one of their own, not from me. Apparently this Ragnar Fire Hair, their new chieftain, was not liked and was a not a nice person. He had some men loyal to him and a shaman. They were also feared.

Thanking her I left and continued to the castle, stopping only once more, at the brewery. I had been in many a bar and tavern but never in a brewery and I was curious. There were big metal vats and kettles. It was rather complicated looking and awe inspiring in the manner of certain Dwemer ruins. By that I mean I had no idea how it worked.

Some chitchat there with Borka, and his wife Gwenn, yielded more information: the people who actually lived in Lokken were not allowed to drink the mead, or at least not much of it. It was reserved for Ragnar Fire Hair and for his guests. What little they were allowed was at three times the price that guests paid. I was beginning to dislike this Ragnar and I had not even met him yet.

Thus forewarned, I approached and entered the castle.

I entered an anteroom of sorts. A guard was there. He said nothing but pointed to the door on the opposite side of the room. I nodded and went to the door.

I entered the throne room. There were animal pelts on the floor and tapestries on the walls to warm up the cold stone room and to provide an ambiance conducive to the hunting enthusiast. There was a bar on the left.

A bar in a throne room: that's not something I've seen before. Convenient I suppose if one were more concerned with entertaining than the usual duties of ruling. There were four guards; one on either side of the door I had just entered and two closer to the throne at the far end of the room.

The throne was on a raised section of the floor and on it sat a large mean-looking Nord with red hair who could only be Ragnar Fire Hair.

To his right stood a man in dark robes who had to be his shaman.

My boot steps were the only sound as I approached the throne. I presented the leaflet to Ragnar.

He tossed the leaflet aside and spoke: "Who the oblivion are you? You have no business being here uninvited and I'm sure I didn't invite you."

He paused and studied me. I stared back at him. I'm sure my eyes now had the hardness of obsidian as well as the color. I adjusted the angle of the sheath on my back.

He looked tough. And huge. A great bull of a man, and Nords are already kind of big. I wouldn't want to fight him, at least not alone.

"Well, you look like you can handle yourself in the wild. There is one way that perhaps you can be allowed in the forests."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I want you to hunt and kill a certain wolf. This is no ordinary wolf. It's larger than the regular snow wolves, though it is white like they are. It has unnatural blue eyes. My men and I have pursued it on numerous occasions and it has always gotten away."

"That's not something you see every day," I quipped. Oh Rashelle, you must stop this business of talking without thinking!

"Exactly. it is obviously not natural, not of the All-Maker. It is a daedra-spawn, an abomination, a menace that must be killed for the safety of my people," he said, not picking up on my sarcasm.

I nodded, not trusting myself to not again say something wrong, and to also buy myself a second or two of time to think of an appropriate response.

This man mentioning the All Maker rubbed me the wrong way: after my adventures amongst the Skaal I had some respect for their beliefs. I somehow knew that Ragnar had no right to call on their All Maker.

"So, oh chieftain of Lokken, so long as I Quest for this White Wolf, I am permitted in the forests of your island?"

"Aye, with my blessing. Bring me his head there will be a reward."

"I shall begin at once. First I will question the guards and villagers as to sightings."

"Excellent" he said, waving me away, obviously tired of talking to me now that I had agreed to his business.

I definitely did not like this man.

As I turned away I got a better look at his shaman and I liked him even less. My magical sensitivity picked up on an evil from him that I had previously only sensed from Sixth House minions. I tried not to display my feelings: a shaman is very sensitive and notices many things. Around him it would be best to appear to be a simple non-magical warrior and not a spellsword.

I strode away from the the throne. Before I took more than a few paces I could see that the woman at the bar was trying to get my attention with her eyes.

I sauntered over to the bar. Might not be a bad idea to get a mazte anyway. I cannot not stand mead. I love snow, but the Nords can keep their mead.

"I'm Kielreen"

"Rashelle. Got any mazte?"

"Yup".

"Please".

She poured me a mazte and started to speak very quietly. Not a whisper. That would have attracted attention, but she obviously wanted only me to hear.

"he's asked you about the big white wolf, wants you to kill it, right?"

I paid and took a sip before replying.

"Yes."

"Don't. There is something strange about the creature."

I took another sip.

"Things are not as they seem in Lokken."

That much was already obvious.

"Talk to my aunt Gwenn at the brewery."

I had just been there. Maybe mentioning Kielreen would get Gwenn to say more than she had the first time. I nodded ever so slightly. Picking up my drink, I walked to one of the one of Ragnars guards.

He at first did not want to speak but I can be charming when I want to be. I asked him about the white wolf and any sightings of it. This did not yield any new information but would go back to Ragnar and would keep him complacent about my activities. I had already decided that I was not going to kill this mysterious white wolf.

After talking to the the other guards I finished my mazte, left the mug on the bar and exited the castle. It had begun to snow. I caught some flakes in the palm of my hand and watched them melt.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Mar 30 2007, 11:41 PM

[jack cloudy]

Not a bad start, that's for sure. You've already put in several items that demand further exploration. First and foremost is the wolf of course. Next are Ragnar and his Shaman. Then there's the thing with the mead, could it be related to the white hair of some? Perhaps only the mead drinkers have colour in their hair, or perhaps not. Carry on, please.

[minque]

Yay!! At last! I´ve been waiting for this great story to be posted here! You know I like it Blockie, so please
continue!

[Zelda_Zealot]

Pretty good, though I didn't read all of it (I was itching to respond, but I will go back and finish it in a second).

Just one thing, sometimes your discriptions will repeat themselves, or be rather bland. So instead of "Several people I saw had snow white hair: that was strange." Try something like. "Many of the residents had shockingly (Or "blindingly" if you prefer that) white hair, which was rather odd given the climate in which they lived."

While both might paint a picture of what you see in your mind, one is more extavagent and colorful, the other is basic and short. But sometimes basic and short is good, when you are writting a battle scene for instance, who would be taking note the color of the paint on the walls?

Aside from that, you are well on your way with this story. And seeing as I have never played this mod, I have no idea where you are going with it, and am thus much more interested in it (Also, one idea you could try is to add in a small quest, so as to add back story or something).

Sorry to drone on for so long, I will get back to reading it now.

EDIT: "It was rather complicated looking and awe inspiring in the manner of certain Dwemer ruins. By that I mean I had no idea how it worked." I love that line . Loved the sarcasm as well, keep up those funny lines and this story will go a long way.

This post has been edited by Zelda_Zealot: Mar 29 2007, 05:12 PM

[blockhead]

Just one thing, sometimes your discriptions will repeat themselves, or be rather bland. So instead of "Several people I saw had snow white hair: that was strange." Try something like. "Many of the residents had shockingly (Or "blindingly" if you prefer that) white hair, which was rather odd given the climate in which they lived."

While both might paint a picture of what you see in your mind, one is more extavagent and colorful, the other is basic and short. But sometimes basic and short is good, when you are writting a battle scene for instance, who would be taking note the color of the paint on the walls?

I've caught myself repeating before. For me it's a problem ... I'm constantly having to watch for it. As for the blandness, that may work better for me: I find that the use of words ending in "ly" can cause more trouble than they are worth (for me anyway).

Replies like yours are why I wanted to post here. So I can learn and improve myself. Thank you.

Why would climate make white hair odd? Oh ... sun "bleaching" associated with tropical climates and/or summer. never mind

Thanks again for the detailed reply.

Aside from that, you are well on your way with this story. And seeing as I have never played this mod, I have no idea where you are going with it, and am thus much more interested in it (Also, one idea you could try is to add in a small quest, so as to add back story or something).

White Wolf Of Lokken Mountian is one of the best plugins ever. If you have Morrowind and the expansions, you should really try it. Emma writes NPCs with personality. You get attached to them. And Lokken has snow.

Again, a reminder (to all) that this story is a spoiler for the main quest of White Wolf Of Lokken Mountain.

Quests are coming. The back story appears in bits and pieces. You'll see.

EDIT: "It was rather complicated looking and awe inspiring in the manner of certain Dwemer ruins. By that I mean I had no idea how it worked." I love that line . Loved the sarcasm as well, keep up those funny lines and this story will go a long way.

I like to put as much humor as I can into things, yet in such a way that it does not detract from the pacing/plot/action/whatever. It's a balancing act. Nice to know I've managed it so far.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Mar 29 2007, 11:43 PM

[blockhead]

2.

The sun was about to set so it seemed to me the next order of business was to see about a meal and possibly to arrange lodging. On the way to the castle I had identified one of the larger buildings as the main hall so I now made my way there.

I opened the door and entered. I found myself in a room similar in appearance to that of the mead hall in Thirsk.

Two men and a woman were standing around a fire in the center of the room. The woman I guessed to be the barfly type. She was laughing. There were more people standing further away from the fire or seated at tables located against the wall. I could see at least two people with that white hair in the room.

I approached the group by the fire.

One of the men introduced himself as Karl.

He said: "The Lokken mead is really something special. May I buy a mug for you, and then we can have a chat?

"Ha! You are just planning to seduce an innocent girl like me!"

"Uuh? Me? Seducing you? I tell you what - here in Lokken, men don't seduce women. It's the women who seduce us. Now, if you aren't going to seduce me, you'd better leave, because then I will get seduced by someone else."

I nodded and walked away. I could hear him say; "Stephann - do you know what 'seducing' is?"

Trying hard not to smirk, I made my way to the bar in the back and arranged a room for the night. I expected I would only need the room for one night: tomorrow I would most likely be deep in my explorations and would sleep in a cave or something. I also ordered a meal.

In a short time I was at a small table in a dark corner, better able to see than be seen, eating. I was deciding if I wanted to explore a little bit that night, or just go to sleep right after my meal.

The woman I saw when I walked in, who I had pegged as a barfly, walked to my table and sat down next to me. This was unexpected. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She looked unhappy.

"Buy me a mead."

I chewed, swallowed, turned away from her and downed the rest of my mazte.

"Please".

Something was bothering her. She maybe wanted to talk about it. Perhaps this would be useful information.

I turned to her and nodded, then I got up and walked to the bar.

"One mead, and one mazte, please"

"She's had her quota of mead for this week."

"I realize that the mead is rationed for all but guests of Ragnar Fire Hair. I realize that everyone else has to pay three times as much for what little they get. The mead is for me, a guest of Ragnar Fire Hair. The mazte is for her", I said. She didn't believe me of course but it was enough to keep her off the hook with Ragnar.

She nodded and poured me two mugs. I paid, tipping her well, and returned to my table.

"Here is your mazte" I said as I placed the mug of mazte in front of me, "and my mead" I said as I placed the mug of mead in front of her, "now talk. First: who are you?".

She told me her name was Lisendra. She started on some random chitchat. Something was bothering her but she obviously was having trouble working herself up to it.

"Have you met Laurenna, the daughter of Wulfgar The White? She lives in her father's hunting cottage on the mountainside. Most of the time she just stands outside her cottage, staring at her old home. It's really spooky! I bet she misses her old lifestyle. Can't be easy for a 'lady' like her to live her life as a commoner. Actually, I'm grateful that I'm not a chieftain's daughter - I'd bet my life is a lot more exciting than Laurenna's. Hey, why don't you buy me another drink, and we can keep on talking,"

So I did. She drank it one gulp. Impressive in a disquieting way. My stomach cringed at the thought of that much mead hitting it all at once. I had been about to take another sip of my mazte but decided not to.

"Lokken used to be a lovely place. Wulfgar The White was a good chieftain, who cared for the Lokken villagers. We had his permission to hunt in the forests to make our living, and during bad years, he provided us with food. Sigrid, his wife, used to teach the village children how to read and write, and I often used to play with Wulfren. Well, sometimes also with Laurenna, but... I get along better with guys."

Oh, such a surprise.

As she continued I could indirectly build up a picture. Some sort of rivalry between her and this Laurenna. Apparently Lisendra had gone steady with Laurenna's brother, Wulfren, and then for reasons unclear had broken of the relationship. This obviously did not help matters between Laurenna and Lisendra.

It was now apparent that she had had more than a few drinks before approaching me.

"My life is a misery... hick... Did Laurenna say that I was a... hick... dreamy school girl? 'Tisn't true, you know... hick... I love this bloke... but I haven't seen him for a year. No-one has seen him for a year. They say he's a killer... hick... that he killed his own father. I don't believe them... hick... Oh, how I wish he was here! Then I would tell him how much I... hick... love him. But, I fear that I will never see him again... that he is dead. Hick."

Then she started to cry. This was an awkward moment. Here she was unburdening herself to a complete stranger about this man who was most likely no longer alive.

The main hall was silent but for her weeping. It was not my intent to become the center of attention. All I wanted was to eat a meal in peace. I sighed.

"OK, Lisendra", I said. "You've had too much. Time to go home."

I stood up, "Come on".

Still no one was saying anything.

"Can someone tell me where she lives?" I asked the room as I pulled her to a wobbling sort of standing position.

"First house to the left after you leave the hall" said Karl.

I nodded and we left.

She was still crying as we walked to her house.

A guard was watching as we reached Lisendra's house, so when I spelled the lock open I made it look like I was simply pushing an unlocked door open. The snow being like it is in Lokken, all doors opened inward.

I sat her on the bed.

"Thank you. I-I-I'm sorry" she said, still crying.

"So let me get this straight. You were in a relationship with Wulfren. Then blew him off, played around. Now he's gone and you wished you hadn't and that could be with him and him only".

"y-yes, I feel terrible. I wish I had stayed with him. I wish I could tell him I love him just one more time."

I tried not to be judgmental: it's not like they had been married or anything. The woman was obviously sincere in her regret. We all make mistakes.

I stayed with her a short while, just enough to make sure she was not going to be suicidal or anything like that. I put her to bed, told her to sleep on her side, arranged a wooden bucket by the bed just in case, and left.

I returned to the main hall. After chatting with Karl & the guys long enough to assure them that Lisendra was OK I went to my room.

In the morning I packed my things, left the room, and had a nice breakfast. They sure know how to cook in Lokken.

Ready for action, I left the main hall. The morning sunlight sparkled on the snow. It was really pretty.

I planned to walk around the village a little more, talking to whoever I had not already talked to, then I would hit the forests and explore, hopefully even find out the deal with this white wolf.

Paff!

Something cold and soft hit the side of my head. I put my hand to my head and felt ... snow? But it was a bright sunny morning with an amazingly clear Azure sky. Some new kind of weather?

"Tommy, you're in trouble now!", said a girls voice.

I turned and I could see some children playing in the snow between two buildings. A girl, whose voice I had just heard, started singing "Tommy's in trou-ble!"

One of the boys, presumably Tommy said, "We're sorry lady. Please don't tell."

I walked over to them and asked "what happened?"

They started laughing, even Tommy and the girl.

"He hit you with a snowball."

Remember that where I grew up there was no snow. So I had no idea what these children were talking about.

"A snow ball?"

"you know", said the girl, "like this".

She scooped up some of the snow, quickly patted it into a sphere, and threw it at Tommy, making a perfect head shot.

My eyes must have widened.

I crouched down and picked up some snow. I tried to press it into a ball. I succeeded but it took me longer than it had for her. I smiled.

"Oh wow. I had no idea you could do this."

They laughed.

"Children, where I grew up we had no snow."

"No way!"

"Way. Really."

I picked a tree trunk, threw my snowball and missed.

I made a second one and threw it. This time I hit the tree.

"Neat," I said "Thank you for showing me this new trick!"

"People always get mad when we do that. You're cool."

"Yeah, we like you! What's your name?"

"I'm Rashelle".

They all introduced themselves and I tried my best to keep all their names straight.

We had a snowball fight and we talked a bit about snow and about growing up in a land without snow. Kids see a lot of things so I got a lot of background on Lokken. Also I had a fun time. A guard looked disapprovingly at us at one point. Apparently I was supposed to be annoyed at the children.

They promised me they would not throw snowballs at adults, or at least not so often, and I went on my way.

I left the village and explored some of the wilderness. Truly some beautiful scenery and foliage, perhaps even more so than in the rest of Solstheim. As in Solstheim, I was attacked a few times by various creatures. All part of a normal day I guess.

Every one in a while I paused and threw a snowball at a rock or a tree. What a neat trick!

At one point in my wandering I found a woman by one of those Nordic burial tombs. She was by herself. Her name was Valkyriana and was distraught that her daughter, Hilde, had run off. She was afraid that Hilde had gone in the tomb.

As I entered the tomb I was certain that I would only find the child's dead body. These tombs were tough places, nothing like the Dunmer tombs in Vvardenfell.

As expected, there were draugr in there. Fighting more than two at a time is a challenge for me, but I had healing potions.

It was larger than the usual Nordic time and took a while to clear it of the numerous draugr and bone wolves in it. Somehow Hilde had managed to find her way into a distant back corner without being spotted by any of the undead. She was unhurt but understandably terrified.

I assured her that I had cleared the place out and that her mother was concerned and I then led her out of the tomb.

Mother and daughter were overjoyed to be reunited.

"Don't you ever do that again, I was worried sick about you".

They thanked me and I continued in my explorations.

I didn't find any oversized benevolent white wolves with blue eyes, just the usual snow wolf of the attacking kind.

It was nearing sunset and it had started to snow when I entered the village. I had previously planned to sleep in the wilderness but the thought of a warm meal amongst the villagers of Lokken drew me back.

I walked up and down the street, chatting with people and entering the few places I had not gone into yesterday.

"There she is Mommy, she's neat!" I heard a child's voice say in the distance.

People seemed much friendlier, more used to me I guess. The air of tension remained though. That reminded me of Fire Hair and his shaman and diminished my happy mood. That also reminded me that Kielreen at the castle yesterday had wanted me to chat with her aunt Gwenn at the brewery. I expected that I had a fairly complete picture of the situation now but I would talk to Gwenn again anyway.


--
edit: the phrase "dreamy school girl" was supplied by the auto-censor for the word I had intended. You get the idea.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 19 2007, 12:17 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

This is a pretty good starting so far. An interesting concept indeed with this unusual dictatorship that seems to be encompassing this town. I just have the say that the very opening of the story kinda had me confused as you switched the points of view a couple of times before you got into Rashelle's narrative. I'm also not sure about whether or not the kid's dialect would consist of phrases of "Cool!" and "No Way!" in TES times, but that could be me just being nit-picky.

I certainly have enjoyed the perfectly placed sarcastic remarks provided by Rashelle; she is developing into a character that I'll enjoy reading about. Please continue when you can.

[blockhead]

This is a pretty good starting so far. An interesting concept indeed with this unusual dictatorship that seems to be encompassing this town. I just have the say that the very opening of the story kinda had me confused as you switched the points of view a couple of times before you got into Rashelle's narrative. I'm also not sure about whether or not the kid's dialect would consist of phrases of "Cool!" and "No Way!" in TES times, but that could be me just being nit-picky.

I certainly have enjoyed the perfectly placed sarcastic remarks provided by Rashelle; she is developing into a character that I'll enjoy reading about. Please continue when you can.

The only part intended to be "off" from first person was: "Thusly, the Nerevarine arrived at Lokken gawking and gaping like a tourist at the Imperial City." The intent here was a slight self-mockery on the part of Rashelle, referring to herself in the third person as she "speaks". I wanted to also establish that she was the Nerevarine already. I guess since I had to explain it I didn't pull it off. Hmmm. I'll have to think some more on that.

EDIT: I changed that bit. chapter 1 is all first person now. Works better this way. You were right. Thanks.

A deliberate shift to third person for one line will happen only once more, in a later "chapter". Hopefully it works better there.

As for the dialect, you are correct in that such phrases would not be used in the TES universe. I went the Xena/Hercules route for dialog: some dialog is 20th/2st century Earth slang.

It is interesting that Rashelle's little sarcastic thoughts/lines have been remarked on twice already. This is unexpected, but not unwelcome. Rest assured that there is more to Rashelle then just sarcasm.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Mar 31 2007, 04:04 PM

[Zelda_Zealot]

Why would climate make white hair odd?

I was thinking along the lines of the fact that most civilizations had dyes of some sort or another, and might have known that darker hair keeps heat in better then white. Plus, if they had lived there for a few thousand years, their hair might have started to come in darker, regardless of genes. Adaptation you know.

I haven't had time to read the second part (My laptop is having a disagreement with the internet, and is refusing to speak with it ), but I will tonight if I can settle this argument.


This post has been edited by Zelda_Zealot: Mar 30 2007, 03:58 PM

[blockhead]

Based on the critiques so far, I have made changes to chapter 1. These corrected bits seem to flow better. It is entirely in first person now. Thanks guys. this is why I posted it here: for the quality and detailed feedback.

Better still, in a properly ruthless editing mode, I've gone through the chapters that have not yet been posted and fixed some things. I suppose it is silly to refer to sections of a short story as chapters but I find it convenient to do so.

Once more I should note here that this story is a spoiler for Emma's most excellent White Wolf Of Lokken Mountain plugin. If you have not yet played that plugin but think that you may at some point, you might want to put off reading this story.

That said, here we go ...


--
3. Commitment

After entering the brewery I again approached Gwenn.

"Kielreen at the castle said I should speak to you concerning the white wolf".

That's me, subtle as an atronach.

This time Gwenn was much more talkative. I'm not not sure if it was my mention of Kielreen, my honest face (stop laughing, you) or simple desperation.

Much of what she told me I had already heard in one form or another but as I listened I had the suspicion that I was somehow getting a more direct and accurate version.

The white wolf was not a regular snow wolf. It was larger and behaved unlike a wolf, seeming to be trying to help people rather than harm them. The blue eyes were not a fiction on Ragnar's part. This last part was interesting because it brought a nagging half memory to my mind, something from my magical studies. I would have to think on this later and dredge that memory up because I suspected it was important.

The wolf had first been sighted in the mountains a year ago, shortly after the death of Wulfgar The White. Some believed that the wolf had been sent by the gods to protect them from Ragnar Fire Hair, but a week ago the wolf seemed to have disappeared. Two of Ragnar's men claimed to have injured the wolf with poisoned arrows so it was possible that it was dead.

Wulfgar had been the previous chieftain and had been loved by the people. Ragnar was only the step-brother of Wulfgar, and therefore not really the rightful ruler. The villagers were in fear of him and his men too much to do anything about it.

In order to legitimize his position, Ragnar would need to marry the widow of the previous chieftain. This woman was named Sigrid and she refused to marry Ragnar. For this, Ragnar had imprisoned her in the castle, in one of the towers, leaving her there until she changed her mind.

The day Wulfgar was killed, his son, Wulfren The White, disappeared. Fire Hair claimed that Wulfren had murdered his father and gone into hiding. No one believed that, but they did believe that Wulfren was now dead. Exit one man; enter one white wolf.

Gwenn had explained a lot to me, yet she had more to say.

"Wulfgar's sister, Laurenna, was thrown out of the castle and is now living in her father's old hunting cottage. She believes that Wulfren is somehow still alive and that he is innocent. She has taken to cutting her hair short, and has sworn a vow by the gods not to let it grow until Wulfren is in his rightful place as the chieftain of Lokken."

I nodded. I find the less I speak, the more other people want to speak. I get more information this way.

"You can see her sometimes, even at night, standing there just so that her mother can see her from the tower. You should talk to her. She would explain better."

I would do that next, if only because she was just about the only one around here that I had not yet spoken to.

Gwenn paused.

"One other thing, Rashelle."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Laurenna is a country girl, more comfortable in the forests than among people. She is shy with strangers. She's never left Lokken."

I grinned and said "Tell the bad scary Breton with the big sword not to spook the locals, I gotcha."

That got a laugh from her.

"Pass the castle, going to the right. Follow the corner of the castle left to get behind the castle. Walk a little along the back and then look for a path going up on your right. That will take you to Laurenna's cottage".

I nodded and left.

The sky began to darken into twilight: the sun must have set while I was inside talking to Gwenn.

I walked up to the castle and turned to the right. This took me along one side and then the rear of the castle. The gradually darkening blue light of twilight, combined with the falling snow, made a truly beautiful and magical atmosphere. I could walk through this forever. Truly Lokken was a wonderland, or would be if not for the oppressive tension in the air.

In a short time I found the upward path from the castle to Laurenna's cottage and ascended it.

It turned right. After a few paces the path reached a sort of plateau. There were snow-covered trees to the left of the path. To the left of the trees, the mountain rose steeply. To the right was a log and a long drop down. This gave a view down to the castle.

And there she was.

She held a glass lantern in one hand and was facing the castle. Past where she stood and to the left, partially obscured by some snow covered trees, I could just make out part of a small cottage. She wore one of those heavy woolen robes that were often necessary in these colder climates.

She wore a sword but since it hung on her left side I could not identify what kind it was.

Her hair was that shocking snow white that I had seen on some of the other inhabitants of Lokken. It was cut very short, as Gwenn had described.

I stopped. The snow continued to fall. The light of her lantern caught the snow flakes near her, creating a sphere of light around her. She was there like a beacon, a lighthouse to guide a weary traveler. Or to cheer an imprisoned mother.

I cleared my throat so as not to startle her: I walk silently even in heavy armor so I know she had not yet noticed me. I then resumed walking towards her.

Of course, like all Nords, she was taller than I am. She had a pretty face and that short hair looked rather attractive, once one got used to the unusual coloring. I wondered how that hair style would look on me.

I reached her. She turned her head to me. Her eyes were blue.

She spoke: "Hello, stranger. I assume you are one of Ragnar Fire Hair's so called 'guests', and that you are here to hunt down some of our beautiful wild animals. Don't let me interrupt you. I'm sure you have better things to do than talking to me."

I was taken aback. I had not expected this. But then again, what should I have expected, that Gwenn would send a bird with a note clearing the way for me during the short time it took me to walk here?

"Laurenna, I am not here to hunt. I want to help. Gwenn has told me of your situation and wanted me to talk to you."

"This is not your concern."

"There is evil in the castle. I have no intention of killing the wolf. I need to talk to you."

"Go away, Outlander," she said ... with more venom than any Dunmer had ever before managed.

She turned away, facing the castle again. She ignored my further attempts at conversation. As far as she was concerned, I was not there. I had the strong feeling that I could stand there for hours and she still would not speak.

The sky was continuing to darken: it was deep into twilight.

She was in a desperate situation and could not afford to trust me, a total stranger. As a stranger I had no ties here, no reason to be trusted: I could make an empty promise and then just leave. Her attitude, while annoying, was logical.

I had to admire her tenacity, her dedication, and her loyalty. It took all of that to maintain this lonely vigil day after day. One could only admire these qualities, even as one was being stymied by them.

I wanted to help her. I wanted to make things right in Lokken.

I had already talked to the entire village. There was no one else to talk to and I needed information. I had searched part of the forest today and had not found the wolf. I could keep searching but it could take a long time. If the wolf had been hit by poisoned arrows, time was running out. Laurenna's cooperation was the only way I could help Lokken. I needed a way to convince her of my sincerity.

I tried to think.

Laurenna's short hair was pretty. I had the thought that I should try it some time. The last time I had short hair was when I was a child on the run and I lived for some time disguised as a boy. Now that I was older and fully developed, the short hair might actually accentuate my femininity rather than mask it.

Then the idea hit me. I sat down on the snow.

My hair was not styled in any sophisticated way: just pulled back into a sort of pony tail with a strip of cloth tied around it. Since my hair is straight, not much curl to it, that's all it ever needed to stay out of my face and look good. I untied the cloth.

I took a breath, paused, released it. Focus, Rashelle.

But I was already committed. I was really committed when I first met Ragnar and his shaman. Also, while it may sound silly, the people here in Lokken had already charmed me. If I left now, leaving that Evil here, I would not be able to live with myself.

No more thinking. Act.

I bunched up my hair in one hand and pulled out my silver dagger with the other and slashed.

I cast the hair at her feet.

She looked down at the hair and then at me and her eyes widened. I looked up at her silently while cutting more of my hair off.

It took another minute or so to finish the job. I had to bend my head down when I neatened up the edge on the back of my neck. Not being able to see myself, I had to feel my head to get the lengths right. I eventually had what I knew was a close approximation of the cut she had.

I blew the hairs off of my dagger and sheathed it. I looked up at her again. I had her full attention now.

"Laurenna, you have sworn to the gods that you will not let your hair grow long again until Wulfren has taken his place as chieftain. I, too, swear this to your gods and I swear this to Azura and I swear this to you."

She extended her hand. I grasped it and pulled myself up until I was standing.

Twilight came to a close.

"Laurenna, I am Rashelle. I spoke to Gwenn at the Brewery. I know your mother is locked away in the castle. I know Wulfren, your brother, is the rightful chieftain and that he is missing. Ragnar Fire Hair and his shaman are very evil. I suspect the white wolf is the key to the whole matter and that he is in peril right now. I want to help. My sword and spells are at your service. Tell me what to do."

This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 4 2007, 11:43 PM

[minque]

Ahh, good as ever Blockie! I especially liked the scene when Rashelle just cut off her long hair! Oh my how often I wish I had the courage of doing the same!

[The Metal Mallet]

Things are moving along rather nicely in this update. I find Rashelle's way of earning Laurenna's trust to be very unique. I also have some interesting speculations of what might this great white wolf might be. I'll eagerly anticipate the rest of this story to see if I'm correct. Keep it up!

[blockhead]

4. Test

Laurenna explained the situation to me as we stood in the falling snow, she with the lantern so that her mother could see her.

"Ragnar threw me out of the castle because he thinks that it is my fault that Mother refuses to marry him. What nonsense."

She continued; "Mother won't marry him because he's a murdering swine. She and I know that he killed my father but we can't prove it."

She told me that she used to see the wolf quite often until a week ago. It seemed to visit Laurenna every day, as if it had a particular interest in her welfare.

"I fear that Ragnar's hunters have wounded the wolf with their poison arrows as they have claimed. Oh I wish I could look for him but I have to stay here. My mother would become frantic if she didn't see me here."

"Laurenna, you can't ever not stand here?"

"I stop to sleep at night. And I stop for meals and to get food & supplies, but only at certain times. I have to keep on a regular schedule. If I break it, she'll think something has happened to me. She might give in and marry Ragnar. She can't do that! I can't stop."

"Very well, I will start looking right now."

"Wait", she said, "You won't find anything in this snow now. In about an hour I'll be done. Wait with me for now and then later come in and we can eat."

That made sense. Also I suspected she was just craving company. The lifestyle of a hermit does not agree with everyone.

We stood there for the hour, talking. Laurenna told me of her life and her experiences growing up. I told her much about myself. It was as if we were old friends catching up, rather than two people who had just met.

Laurenna showed me the window in the tower where her mother was imprisoned. I could not really see in the window at this distance: Laurenna's eyes were sharper than mine. Perhaps in clearer weather I would see better.

Then she was done.

Just before I went inside I cast a Mark spell near the cottage, yet not in line of site of the castle. I suspected this would be the center of operations for the next few days.

We ate and then she trimmed my new hair style a bit neater. She said I could sleep here and pointed to a corner where I could place my sleeping fur.

We breakfasted at dawn.

"Rashelle, I have had an idea. My old friend Fjorngrin may know of the wolf's whereabouts. At least he can help you with the search. He lives in a house in the wilderness, away from the village. He's not very talkative and is rather suspicious of strangers, even more so than I am."

"I'm not cutting my arm off just to talk with him."

She laughed.

"I know an easier way to gain his trust. Years ago on a hunting trip, my father approached a frost boar that he thought he had just killed with a spear. Turns out the beast was not dead and it upped and gored him in the butt."

She smiled and chuckled, temporarily back in happier days.

"He was OK afterwards. For years after, all anyone had to say to make any of us laugh was 'frost boar tusk in the butt.'"

"So I tell him 'frost boar tusk in the butt' and he will know that you sent me?"

She nodded.

She gave me directions and we were off: she to her vigil and I to Fjorngrin's place. It was sunny now: the snow had stopped sometime during the night. The landscape was just incredible. Of course something attacked me but it was nothing I wasn't used to from my time in Solstheim. Soon I reached Fjorngrin's house.

I knocked on the door and a man answered. From the bloodshot eyes and the general unhealthy look I could tell that he had been drinking the night before. Looking past him I could see the place was a bit of a mess.

"Are you Fjorngrin?"

He winced.

"Aye, but can you not speak so loud?"

"I'm Rashelle. Laurenna sent me. May I come in?"

He let me in and waved me to a chair. He pulled up a crate.

"So what can I do for you?"

"I need to find the big white wolf with the blue eyes."

"Do you now?" he said in a wary tone.

I nodded.

"So how do I know that Laurenna really sent you?"

"Laurenna says 'frost boar tusk in the butt.'"

He smiled and chuckled.

"I guess she did."

I waited.

"But that's not enough. She may trust you and that's got some weight to it but I don't trust you."

I looked down at the floor and put my hands on the back of my head. I'd now have to do some stupid quest. Maybe find some Dwemer tubes, or fetch him a Telvanni bride, or maybe get him some muck! No, it would be pillows. pillows? Pillows! I almost started to giggle. Focus Rashelle. Focus.

I took a breath and forced some calm.

I released the breath, looked up again and said, "What would you have me do to convince you?"

"Yesterday I was guiding this silly Imperial, one of Ragnar's 'guests'. He was exclaiming his prowess at hunting though it was obvious to me he had never done it before. He wore a fur hat that had been dyed a ridiculous bright yellow. Still, he paid well and I guided him through the woods for some time. Oddly enough we did not run into any animals. That's just as well considering his lack of experience. He was a city-born idiot but we were getting along well so I invited him here for supper. Then we got to drinking."

I nodded. As noted before, the less I speak, the more other people speak.

"I eventually passed out. Well, near as I can tell he sneaked out in the middle of the night, taking with him my long bow and my snow bear trophy. The trophy is a snow bear head stuffed and mounted on a wooden plaque. I assume he wants to take them back to Cyrodiil and convince everyone there that he actually went hunting and killed something.

"Rashelle, find him. Get my bow. Get the plaque as well if you can but the bow is more important. Do this and then we can talk. With that silly bright yellow hat he should be easy to find."

I stood up.

"Right. I'm on it."

After walking out of the house, I looked for tracks in the snow. I could see my tracks clearly, as they had been made just a few moments ago. The Imperial's tracks would have been made while it was still snowing so would be partially covered up.

Then I saw them. Heading west. I followed.

I was feeling anger. I was not angry at Fjorngrin for giving me this task. I was angry at the Imperial thief. Now I've done some thieving in my time; I was starving and had to. The Imperial was pilfering just to build up a lie of his own hunting prowess. That is what bothered me. Also, when Fjorngrin invited the Imperial into his home it was a trust. To then steal from Fjorngrin was a betrayal of that trust.

If this "silly Imperial" was as ineffectual as Fjorngrin had said, he would not have gone very far so I would find him soon. The tracks faded in and out, as the wind had piled up the snow into drifts here and there.

Here I could see where he started running. Two sets of tracks that were probably wolves joined his tracks.

Very soon I found the Imperial. I was surprised to find him alive. He was standing on a large rock outcrop, being menaced by two wolves who could not climb the rock. I dispatched them and called him down. He had the bow but not the snow bear plaque.

He climbed down and started to say "Oh, thank you, I ... "

"Shut up."

He gaped.

"Give me the bow."

"I was only ... "

"Shut up."

He gave me the bow.

I handed him an Almsivi Intervention potion: I had no intention of escorting him out of here myself.

"This will take you to the Dunmer Temple in Gnisis. Use it now."

"Dunmer? Ewww. Those stupid weird savages."

So he was a bigot as well as thief. People like him were the reason the Dunmer hated outlanders so much. It took all of my willpower not to deck the s'wit. I'm sure I was trembling with rage.

"Respect the Dunmer, sera!" I hissed. "Have you lived with the Ashlanders? Have you taken the pilgrimage of the Seven Graces? Speak not of what you know nothing!"

He looked like he was going to say more. I cracked my knuckles. My eyes dared him to speak.

"Take the potion now, Outlander, while you still can."

He drank it and was gone.

I took a few breaths to calm myself down.

I had just called someone an outlander. I had never done that before. I had always been the outlander. What had just happened?

I found the snow bear head plaque on the way back to Fjorngrin's place.

When I returned, he saw what I was holding and said "Ahhh Rashelle, you've brought my bow and also the plaque. Thank you."

I sat down on a crate.

"Was the Imperial still alive when you found him?", he asked.

"Surprisingly, yes. I gave the s'wit an Intervention potion and he's now on his way back home."

"Rashelle, while you were gone I have been thinking. When Wulfgar was still alive, Snorri was his shaman. He may not have been the most able of shamen but he is a good man. When Ragnar took over, Snorri left the castle. He told me he was afraid of Ragnar's shaman."

"With good reason," I interrupted.

He raised an eyebrow. Wait a minute ... wasn't I supposed to do that?

I continued. "I have some training and ... sensitivities ... in the areas of magic. That man radiates dark magic. He's evil. And he has power. He is dangerous. I'm sorry to interrupt. Please go on."

"Well," he continued, "Snorri and I still stay in touch from time to time. He now lives in the unfrozen eastern area of Lokken island."

I raised an eyebrow. That's better.

"It hardly snows there for some reason. At any rate, he has a hideout there someplace. I have not seen it myself but Snorri has mentioned that it is a cave and that the entrance is very well hidden between two stone blocks."

I nodded.

"Like myself, and like Laurenna, Snorri won't trust you. I have no ideas on getting though to him. Perhaps Laurenna can think of something. I think you should talk to her."

I nodded. That made sense. I rose to leave.

"Rashelle?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing this?"

I looked away.

"I swore a vow."

He remained silent. I had not answered his question.

"I want to remove the evil in the castle. That shaman radiates a cloud of black evil and Ragnar Fire Hair is a thug. Wulfren is the rightful chieftain. Somehow the white wolf is the key to this matter."

Everything I said was true, yet he remained silent.

I looked him straight in the eyes.

"I do this for Laurenna."

He nodded.

I left.

[jack cloudy]

I like the humour and self-critiscizing in your work. You've got a wonderful personality built in Rashelle which really means a lot in most stories.

And the yellow hat, could it be a Colovian Fur Hat? I love those things, they're so comfy! (Though I'm still wondering why the Fighter's guild supply chests in Morrowind stored those things. I would've expected a real helmet or something.)

[blockhead]

5. Ghost, Wolf

I Recalled to my Mark outside of Laurenna's house. I approached her and related what had occurred.

"I don't know where Snorri is so you'll just have to search for Snorri's hideout using Fjorngrin's description."

I nodded.

"However, I have an easy solution for convincing Snorri that you are my friend. Go to my father's tomb and fetch Gunna's amulet from the coffin. Bring that with you and show it to Snorri. That should do it."

"Where is your father's tomb?"

"Right there in my cottage."

I raised an eyebrow.

She smiled and continued. "There is a secret trap door in the back wall, covered by a tapestry."

"Nice. I'll be right back."

While convenient, I thought it was a strange burial arrangement. But then again, these were abnormal times in Lokken. As long as it didn't disturb Laurenna's sleep I guess it was fine.

I entered the cottage. I lifted the tapestry up and saw the door. I opened it and found myself in a tunnel hewn through the rock. It sloped gently downwards. After a few yards, the rock gave through to an ice strata. I continued down and soon found myself at the end of the tunnel.

Wulfgar's Stalhrim coffin was there. Interesting: I didn't know that anyone still had the ancient formula for making Stalhrim. Elsewhere in Solstheim they told me that it had been lost forever. Inside the transparent coffin was the body, perfectly preserved. He was dressed in a set of Nordic Mail armor, all but the helm. He had white hair. Outside the coffin were some more pieces of armor, an axe, some gems & unidentifiable trinkets and a Nordic mail helm.

I didn't search for Gunna's amulet because in front of the the coffin stood the semi-transparent form of Wulfgar's ghost. I knew it was Wulfgar because the face of the ghost matched the face of the man inside the Stalhrim.

Without thinking, I said "Frost boar tusk in the butt".

The ghost chuckled.

"I see Laurenna has not forgotten".

I nodded. I didn't know what to say next. Why hadn't Laurenna mentioned the tiny detail that her father's ghost was here?

"Don't look so scared! I may be a ghost, but I'm not here to harm you. Instead, I want you to listen to me."

I nodded.

"I am Wulfgar The White, father of Laurenna and Wulfren, former chieftain of Lokken. I love this island, I love each villager living here and every animal in the forests. And I love my wife and my children. It makes me so sad to see the pain Sigrid and Laurenna are going through, and it raises my wrath to know that Wulfren has been falsely accused of having slain me.

"Wulfren is innocent. The man who thrust the sword into my heart was my own step-brother, Ragnar, the man who calls himself the new chieftain of Lokken. I don't know what has happened to my son, but I can feel that he is alive. If you care for Laurenna, if you care for the Lokken people, please try to find Wulfren. Only he could oppose Ragnar and claim his place as the rightful ruler of Lokken.

"Ragnar is a man of considerable power. I doubt that anyone could slay him with normal powers. But, with the war-hammer of Thorjan Bjorg, Wulfren might be able to defeat him. This incredible weapon is hidden in the tomb of Thorjan Bjorg. But, you cannot just pick up the warhammer and walk away with it. To get the strength to handle it, you also need Thorjan's gauntlets. And it is pointless to look for the tomb of Thorjan Bjorg without the gauntlets. Only when you have found them, you will find the tomb.

"My friend, I will leave you now. Please, feel free to use my weapons and armor. You might have use for them in the dangerous forest. I suggest that you try to locate my shaman, Snorri, who is hiding in the forest. He might know the truth about Wulfren's whereabouts. Bring Gunna's amulet - you'll find it on my coffin. Then, he will know that you are a friend. Don't tell Laurenna that you have met me. I don't want her to get upset. May the Gods bless you, my friend.

And he faded away.

I felt sad. He seemed like a nice man.

I located and picked up the only amulet I could see so I guess it had to be Gunna's amulet. I picked up the the helm and looked it over. It was a fine-looking piece of gear but I don't like to wear a helm unless I have to. I can hear an approaching stealthy attack better without a helm.

As I set down the helm an alarming thought occurred to me. Ragnar, his shaman, and most everyone in the village had seen me with long hair. Now I had very short hair, the identical cut to Laurenna. I might as well have donned the Anti Ragnar Club uniform. The next time he saw me Ragnar would put two and two together and would throw me off the island or possibly even just try to have me imprisoned or killed. I could avoid these last two but then I would not be able to help anyone in Lokken. Even if he did nothing to me, I'd be watched, hampered in my efforts. Bad things would happen to people I spoke to. To Laurenna.

A cast of an Almsivi Intervention spell and I was teleported to Gnisis.

At the Imperial Legion fort I procured an Imperial steel helm. It was an open helm, which I prefer over a closed helm. I could have gone to my house and gotten a better helm but I didn't want to take that much time. While there, I obtained some extra alchemy ingredients and some additional armor repair tools.

This activity helped me to settle down from my encounter with Wulfgar's ghost. I had encountered Undead who talked instead of attacking in the past, but it was still something I was not entirely used to.

Upon leaving the fort I bought some spices and ash yams and other Vvardenfell vegetables for Laurenna. I imagined her diet had been monotonous of late because of limited foraging & hunting time.

I cast Recall, walked over to Laurenna and showed her the amulet.

"Yes, that's the one. Where did you get that helm?"

"Quick jaunt to Gnisis" I said, "I have to hide my short hair from Ragnar and his men."

"Ohh, good point, but my fathers helm is a lighter and stronger construction than that thing."

"Yes, and recognizable as your father's helm. That would raise questions."

"Oops."

"I brought you some spices and different food and stuff for you. I'll just drop them in the cottage and then I'm off to find Snorri. If I'm not around for dinner don't wait. I might be in the middle of following up a lead on the wolf or your brother."

She nodded.

I must admit that despite the urgency of the matter, I had great fun romping around more of Lokken. The east coast was green, as I had been told, but still with the foliage I associated with colder areas. It was pretty.

I encountered two-legged animals in addition to the expected local beasts. Some were reavers, who seemed to roam most of Solstheim. Some were of a different sort. They wore full Nordic Mail armor yet fought with a peculiar ferocity that I associate only with madmen and berserkers. They were tough. I had to quaff potions.

Laurenna had mentioned something about Lokken berserkers being different from regular berserkers in that they wore armor and were tougher. These must have been what I encountered.

I had gone past the entrance to Snorri's hideout several times before I finally recognized it as an entrance. It was a hole between two rocks yet also set back behind some bushes.

I wanted to do this carefully; not spook anyone. I called in before entering: "Hello, I am Rashelle, a friend of Laurenna. I would like to come in and speak to Snorri."

I heard nothing.

"I don't hear anything. I am coming in. Please do not be alarmed. I will leave if asked."

I entered, slowly, making as much noise as I could.

I was in a narrow cavern.

"I am looking for Snorri," I called out.

Making my armor clank as loudly as possible, I walked. The cavern bent to the right then to the left. I came into a chamber lit by torches. There were stairs up to a wooden platform and on the platform stood a man.

"Are you Snorri?"

"Yes I am, but who are you?"

I took off my helm. The thing was hot.

"I am Rashelle. Laurenna sent me."

I approached the stairs and held out Gunna's amulet.

"She told me to show you this."

"Gunna's amulet," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to find the White Wolf." No beating about the bush, me, no sera.

"He's here but he is in bad shape from poisoned arrows."

"I have healing potions."

"They won't work on a wolf."

"Oh."

"I can't leave him here alone but if you could go to Granny Torunn for me I believe she would be able to make a cure poison potion for a wolf."

"I don't know her," I said. "Where does she live? In the village?"

"No; she lives in the wilderness, not far from Fjorngrin's house. Do you know him?"

I nodded.

He gave me directions relative to Fjorngrin's house. I thanked him, put my helm back on, and then departed silently.

The sun was setting when I reached Granny Torunn's house.

I knocked on the door and an older Nord woman answered. This made me fairly sure I had the right place.

"I am Rashelle. Are you Granny Torunn?"

"Yes, I am. What brings you here?"

"Snorri told me you might be able to make a healing potion for a large white wolf that has been injured by poisoned arrows."

"Not ... that wolf?"

"Yes," I answered, "that wolf. He is safely hidden but is doing badly."

She invited me in and paced for a minute or two. I relaxed on a chair and absently studied her alchemy equipment.

She spoke: "I think I can do it and I have most of the ingredients. The only thing I require are two wolf pelts. Not snow wolf, but regular wolf. If you could get those for me then we will be all set."

"Right. I'm on it."

Twilight turned to darkness as I roamed through the woods. Moonlight on snow covered ground is so magical. Eventually I found two wolves. I brought the pelts back to Granny Torunn. She said they were perfect.

In a surprisingly short time she had made a potion of Cure Poison formulated for wolves. That woman knew her alchemy!

"Untested, obviously", she said, "but I expect it will work."

Payment was not mentioned. I thanked her and returned with the potion to Snorri's.

"Thank you Rashelle; now hopefully we can save the wolf," he said after I had given him the potion.

"Now Rashelle," he said, "this may take awhile and I must not be disturbed. Could you come back in the daytime tomorrow?"

I nodded and left. I was a little miffed but would get over it. I stepped out of his hideout. I cast Recall. Laurenna had already gone inside for the night. I did not enter Laurenna's cottage. I had things to do. I was not going to sleep just yet, if at all, that night. Silently I walked down the path, towards the castle.

[The Metal Mallet]

You're setting up quite a frantic pace here blockhead. I'm surprised Rashelle isn't exhausted from all the travelling she's been doing. All the same I've enjoyed these last couple of updates, particularlly the fact that you say Rashelle focuses on listening. Makes me feel like I'm playing the game when you refer to it like that; it's very "Nerevarineish".

[Zelda_Zealot]

Sheesh! I stay one weekend at my moms, and you updated this five times! (I am counting the redone versions of the first two chapters) Oh well, it is all good, and I especially like how you went over your old stuff and made it better. Much, much better. Keep it up!

EDIT: I am reading your new updates now, and I must say, so far I am loving your sense of humor in this Fiction! "That's me, subtle as an atronach," is my favorite line so far, closly followed by, "my honest face (stop laughing, you)."

The plot is getting much better now, and I am starting to really wonder about it. Perhaps the wolf is Wulfgar whom was bitten by a Werewolf, or maybe the gods created it as an act of revenge (If Wulfgar was murdered, or maybe because Ragnar is not the true leader) against Ragnar.

"Gwenn had certainly just explained a lot to me. She had a little bit more to say," might be better of with, "Although Gween had just explained a great deal to me, she still had more to say." The way it was before doesn't really flow well, and seemed strange in a story where everything flows properly. I find that saying what you type aloud will help finding out if it flows from one sentence to another. And keep in mind, if I give you an example sentence, I am using words that I like, but you may not particulally care for. Feel free to swap out any words you don't like if you follow my suggestions.

Also, you could try posting a sentence or section you are having trouble with and get our advice.

"Tell the bad scary Breton with the big sword not to spook the locals, I gotcha," has now taken the place of favorite line in thie chapter.

"She turned her head to me. Her eyes were blue," perhaps, "She turned, and looked right at me with her deep, blue eyes." Just a thought.

That was a very well writen scene at the end, possably your best yet! On to chapter four!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I'm not cutting my arm off just to talk with him," best so far in this chapter!

"frost boar tusk in the butt," takes the lead!

"Of course something attacked me but it was nothing I wasn't used to from my time in Solstheim," I was expecting something like, "Of course an animal or two decided to commit suicide by Rashelle, but after the time I spent in Solstheim, I could easly handle it." It is strange not seeing sarcasm in this story...

"I'd now have to do some stupid quest. Maybe find some Dwemer tubes, or fetch him a Telvanni bride, or maybe get him some muck! No, it would be pillows. pillows? Pillows! I almost started to giggle. Focus Rashelle. Focus." Nice references to Morrowind there!

"He wore a fur hat that had been dyed a ridiculous bright yellow." And another!

"Then I saw them. Heading west. I followed." Try to avoid sentences like these, as I stated before, it just doesn't flow well. Plus it is not very discriptive, and doesn't look like something experienced writer would write (I am assuming you are either experienced or natually talented, or both).

"Respect the Dunmer, sera!" I hissed. "Have you lived with the Ashlanders? Have you taken the pilgrimage of the Seven Graces? Speak not of what you know nothing!" Very nice! Loved the Dunmer words and curses. And I certaintly know what Rashelle is feeling...

Aside from your short, undiscripive bullect statments, this chapter is very good! Just try to work on those bullet sentances okay?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Quick question. Could you PM me the link to where I can download this mod? You really sparked my interest in it.

But onto the chapter itself. I like how you left out the " at the end of the paragraphs if someone is still talking, newbies would probably but it in there, so thus, you must not be a newbie. Nice to know you are learned in the ways of Grammer and Punctuation.

"I might as well have donned the Anti Ragnar Club uniform." Nothing to say about this but .

"No beating about the bush, me, no sera." A compliment and criticism here. While I loved the sentence, you forgot the "for". Not a writing mistake, just a typing one

Again, more bullet statements, try to avoid those and you will do great. Keep up the good work!

P.S. Sorry about the wall of text.


This post has been edited by Zelda_Zealot: Apr 2 2007, 10:56 PM

[blockhead]

[quote name='Zelda_Zealot' date='Apr 2 2007, 05:01 PM' post='95035']
Sheesh! I stay one weekend at my moms, and you updated this five times! (I am counting the redone versions of the first two chapters) Oh well, it is all good, and I especially like how you went over your old stuff and made it better. Much, much better. Keep it up!
[/quote]
Yes, I wanted the feedback so I could make this a better story. That's why I'm here.

[quote]
"Gwenn had certainly just explained a lot to me. She had a little bit more to say," might be better of with, "Although Gween had just explained a great deal to me, she still had more to say." The way it was before doesn't really flow well, and seemed strange in a story where everything flows properly. I find that saying what you type aloud will help finding out if it flows from one sentence to another. And keep in mind, if I give you an example sentence, I am using words that I like, but you may not particulally care for. Feel free to swap out any words you don't like if you follow my suggestions.[/quote]
For whatever reason chapter one and two were hard to write. I think over the entire project, those two have been edited / tweacked / fussed with the most. Things picked up after those two. I don't know why.

[quote]
Also, you could try posting a sentence or section you are having trouble with and get our advice.
[/quote]
Yes, that is good to know ... keep in mind I originally wrote this before I was on chorrol.

[quote]
"She turned her head to me. Her eyes were blue," perhaps, "She turned, and looked right at me with her deep, blue eyes." Just a thought.
[/quote]
No offense but that way reads like a romance novel.

[quote]"frost boar tusk in the butt," takes the lead![/quote]
That line is from Emma's plugin. I can't take credit for that.

[quote]"Then I saw them. Heading west. I followed." Try to avoid sentences like these, as I stated before, it just doesn't flow well. Plus it is not very discriptive, and doesn't look like something experienced writer would write (I am assuming you are either experienced or natually talented, or both).[/quote]
Your advice has been very good and very helpful but this bit I'm not sure I agree with. Is there a need to describe footprints? Or snow (which has been previously covered in chapter 1)? In the past, writing descriptions bogged me down. For this story I have deliberately followed a lean and minimal approach. Maybe I'm just not understanding what you mean.

Dude ... I am such a beginner at writing it isn't funny. I've tried to write stuff on and off for years and never had results like this story before. This is the first the first thing I ever actually finished!

[quote]
"Respect the Dunmer, sera!" I hissed. "Have you lived with the Ashlanders? Have you taken the pilgrimage of the Seven Graces? Speak not of what you know nothing!" Very nice! Loved the Dunmer words and curses. And I certaintly know what Rashelle is feeling...
[/quote]
Whew. Good. I had some trouble with that line. Took me awhile to get it right. In an earlier draft she didn't even say anything: she just slugged him. I thought that was too brutal so I changed it.

[quote]
Aside from your short, undiscripive bullect statments, this chapter is very good! Just try to work on those bullet sentances okay?
[/quote]
Darn .. I was kind of getting into them. They seem very effective. For example: look at the last five lines of chapter 4. I don't think that would have worked as well with longer sentences.

[quote]
Quick question. Could you PM me the link to where I can download this mod? You really sparked my interest in it.
[/quote]
No need to PM. I'll put it here for all to see. Everyone should go play this plugin. It's one of the greatest plugins ever. Emma rocks. She makes the NPCs seem like real people.

• White Wolf Of Lokken Mountain: <a href="http://lovkullen.net/Emma/lokken.htm" target="_blank">http://lovkullen.net/Emma/lokken.htm</a>
• Emma's site (she has other plugins): <a href="http://lovkullen.net/Emma/index.htm" target="_blank">http://lovkullen.net/Emma/index.htm</a>
• Emma's forums (go here and tell her how great WWOLM is) : <a href="http://forums.elricm.com/emma/index.php" target="_blank">http://forums.elricm.com/emma/index.php</a>

[quote]
But onto the chapter itself. I like how you left out the " at the end of the paragraphs if someone is still talking, newbies would probably but it in there, so thus, you must not be a newbie. Nice to know you are learned in the ways of Grammer and Punctuation.
[/quote]
WHEW. I wasn't sure about that. My grammar is a mix of dim memories from school, winging it and dumb luck ... with emphasis on the dumb.

[quote]
"No beating about the bush, me, no sera." A compliment and criticism here. While I loved the sentence, you forgot the "for". Not a writing mistake, just a typing one
[/quote]
Huh?

[quote]
Again, more bullet statements, try to avoid those and you will do great. Keep up the good work!
[/quote]
Are they really that bad? I find them useful. I will mull on this.

[quote]
P.S. Sorry about the wall of text.
[/quote]
It's cool. Detailed analysis from other writers is what I need. This is perfect. Thank you.


edit: suddenly quotes don't work? Sorry. I would fix it but I don't know how.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 3 2007, 12:31 AM

[blockhead]

You're setting up quite a frantic pace here blockhead. I'm surprised Rashelle isn't exhausted from all the travelling she's been doing. All the same I've enjoyed these last couple of updates, particularlly the fact that you say Rashelle focuses on listening. Makes me feel like I'm playing the game when you refer to it like that; it's very "Nerevarineish".

Rashelle can run for a half hour in heavy armor without slowing or stopping. It's not a problem.

But seriously, Lokken is smaller than Solstheim. When I was writing this, I had notes with where everything was and what time it was so I had a good sense of the "real" distances involved. Rashelle's use of Recall also reduces round trip times. Her mileage in a given day in this story is not so bad.

I don't understand: "particularlly the fact that you say Rashelle focuses on listening." You lost me there. Sorry.

[The Metal Mallet]

Here, I'll give you an example:

I nodded. As noted before, the less I speak, the more other people speak.

Basically, when you're playing Morrowind the game, the Nerevarine is the "strong, silent type". You're sentence there makes me think of in-game experience playing the game. It's like you're re-visiting it. I like that, so that's why I called it "Nerevarine-ish".