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Posted by: hazmick Feb 6 2015, 11:46 PM

Chapter 1

The room was furnished as most high ranking Imperial offices were – dragons everywhere. Dragon curtains (red), dragon floor mat (red), dragon banners (red). I wouldn't be surprised if the guards outside were wearing socks (red) with little dragons on them.

“So we just need to go over a few things here,” the clerk’s piping voice interrupted my thoughts. He studied the notes in front of him “you were born 3E 408?”

“Yes.” I wasn't half as nervous as I thought I’d be, but my mouth was almost too dry to speak.

“Our first official record of you is not until 19 years later. An Imperial prison transport fished you out of the Inner Sea of Morrowind and took you to the port of Seyda Neen. Yes?”

He didn’t look up from his notes, instead arching an enormous grey eyebrow. There was more hair on those brows than on the rest of his head.

“Yes.” Though my mouth was still dry my hands were now clammy. Please gods don’t make him go in for a handshake when this is done.

“Your occupation is listed here as ‘adventurer’. You also seem to have aided the Twin Lamps organisation, among others.” He licked a bony fingertip and turned the page. “This is around the time that you officially joined the Imperial Legion, rising to the rank of Agent.”

“That’s right.” My face reddened slightly when he looked up at me. Apparently a ‘yes’ would suffice.

He took a sip of his drink, a dark gold substance, and winced slightly as it went down. How anybody can enjoy that sort of thing was beyond me. I much prefer tea.

Looking back to his notes, the clerk continued listing various people I’d met who were considered important enough to have an opinion. Mainly guild leaders and Imperials.

I managed to steal a glance at the page, most of which was concealed with black ink.

“Well this seems to be in order. On account of your previous work for the Empire and the skills you have at your disposal, I have no doubt that you will do some good with us.” He stamped my file for approval with an official looking dragon stamp (red).

I grinned widely (any display of emotion towards humans must be greatly exaggerated) and thanked him as he shook my hand firmly.

“Welcome to the Blades, Agent Haa-Rei.”

Posted by: Acadian Feb 7 2015, 02:09 AM

Welcome back to the world of fanfic - to both you and Haa-Rei!

What a fun introduction as you show us quite a bit about Haa-Rei’s perceptions and sense of humor.

Dragon socks!

'I much prefer tea.' - - Made from Nightshade no doubt.

Welcome to the Blades, indeed!

Posted by: McBadgere Feb 7 2015, 10:02 AM

Funny... ...

I like... ...Excellent start...

Look forward to more...

Nice one!!...

*applauds heartily*...

Posted by: hazmick Feb 13 2015, 10:03 PM

Acadian - Thanks! Hopefully this foray into fanfic will be more successful than the last one

McB - Cheers mate, glad you can join us!


Chapter 2

An agent of the Blades. This is where my adventures in Cyrodiil began.

I hasten to add that I wasn't a Blade in the traditional sense, with their fancy armour and willingness to die for The Emperor at a moment’s notice (Blades helmets aren't made to accommodate Argonian horns and head spines). I was now one of the spies of the Blades. The eyes of the Empire.

It would be my job to make sure any threats to the Empire were quietly dealt with, all while blending in as a normal citizen. It would most likely be things that Imperial guards couldn't handle, like assassins, Daedra or undead.

All Blades swear an oath to protect this, defend that, and generally make sure old Emperor Uriel is happy and safe. Blades warriors have a huge ceremony after their induction, presumably with a buffet and lots of handshaking. I didn't even get to meet The Emperor, and my katana would be kept at a Blades fortress for safe keeping. No ceremony, no speeches, no buffet.

The final perk of being a Blade is that I also get a free room at Luther Broad’s Boarding House. I set off immediately after my induction, feeling equal parts excited and anxious.

The Imperial City was enormous, with towering grey walls and a labyrinth of snaking alleyways, full to the brim with merchants, adventurers, guards and beggars. I’d been to towns and cities before of course, but the capital of Cyrodiil was always so busy it made my scales itch.

It was late in the afternoon when I finally found my way to the Elven Gardens district, so I planned to stay in the Imperial City for the night, then head off to Leyawiin the next morning. I had people to see and places to be, after all.

A sign on the door of the inn said that it was closed, except to residents (such as myself), on account of Luther’s absence. I’m pretty sure he was a Blades agent and was probably off on an important mission. This meant that the inn would be blissfully quiet, which was perfect.

It was in fact almost empty, with a grand total of three people sitting in the common room. They were deep in discussion when I entered so I chose the furthest table away and took a seat, setting my gear down on a separate chair.

I’d left most of my things in Morrowind rather than lugging them across Tamriel like a pack mule. All I had was a dwarven sword, my (rather poor) leather armour, some basic alchemy equipment, and a handful of gold coins. Getting a bow and some good quality armour was at the top of my priority list.

Luther had left a kettle and some nightshade plants over by the fire. Whoever invented tea should be made into a tenth Divine. I’d happily worship them every day.

As soon as I sat down with my steaming brew, the three strangers rose and started walking towards me. I hadn't really looked at them on the way in, but they appeared to be adventurers (the only armed people you usually see in cities are mercenaries, adventurers, or soldiers). An elf and two Nords.

The Elf, an Altmer, looked decidedly normal. Clearly a mage, his blue robes shimmered ever so slightly with an enchantment. He carried no weapons and his tangled beard suggested he also carried neither a brush nor scissors. He smiled warmly as they approached.

The largest of the Nords was perhaps that biggest man I’d ever seen. He was dressed in fur armour, with bits and pieces of iron armour here and there. His brown hair fell over his broad shoulders, and he too had a large beard. In traditional Nord fashion his beard was braided and any skin that showed was covered in intricate tattoos. He had left his weapon, a claymore as tall as myself, at their table.

The other Nord was the only woman in the group. She was shorter than the others, and very slender. Her red hair was cut just above her shoulders, and she had several braids. She had no beard (thankfully) and her pale skin was a stark contrast to her green eyes. They were dark green but still bright and alert, like sunlight filtering through pine trees. Her armour seemed to be a mix of leather and iron, though her arms and legs were mostly free to aid with movement. She had two knives on her belt, and a bow poked over her shoulder. A hunter, perhaps? A hunter of what?

When they reached my table they seemed to be inspecting me, and simultaneously passed their eyes over my equipment. Great, I was going to be robbed before I’d even finished my tea.

“Allow me to introduce myself” the Altmer offered another smile. “My name is Olorin, and these are my companions; Sjöfn and Jötnar,”

The two Nords nodded, though only the woman, Sjöfn, smiled. Jötnar’s scowl suggested that he wasn't pleased, had never been happy before in his life, or was in fact carved out of stone. I returned their nods with the friendliest smile I could muster. Olorin continued:

“Judging from your outfit and equipment you are an adventurer. Correct?”

“Yes, though I’m mainly a hunter. My name is Haa-Rei.” It’s always best to be polite and friendly when talking to armed strangers.

I indicated the free seats in front of me, which Olorin and Sjöfn accepted. Apparently Jötnar would prefer to stand.

“Excellent. Well, I have an offer of employment...if you are interested.” Olorin continued to smile his warm smile.

“Go on.”

“We are looking for someone to share in an adventure…”

Posted by: mALX Feb 13 2015, 11:31 PM

Welcome back Haa-Rei and Hazmick!

I really hope my recovery keeps improving so I'll be able to catch up on the great stories on here and once again hear about all my favorite characters, which most def includes Haa-Rei! Still have some huge issues trying to read/retain, but it seems to improve with time, so my hope is high that I'll be reading all these stories again!

Posted by: Acadian Feb 14 2015, 01:46 AM

Not just an agent, but a Secret agent!

Love the big feel you gave here to the Imperial City. And busy enough to make poor Haa-Rei’s scales itch.

Neat way of showing us how much Haa-Rei likes his tea. Earl Gray for Divine #10!

You did a great job of using only a small amount of space to impart wonderful detail to Olorin and his two Nordic companions. Even better, the descriptions let plenty of Haa-Rei’s dry humor to come through.

An adventure is it to be then?

Posted by: McBadgere Feb 15 2015, 05:55 PM

I am quite definitely in love...The fact that she even has no beard is a bonus!... ...

Excellently done...Found myself giggling at his disappointment at the lack of buffet... ...

Brilliant writing, I very much like the humour...Very much... ...

Moaarrrr!!!... ...

Nice one!!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Posted by: hazmick Feb 20 2015, 06:02 PM

mALX - Good to be back, and all the better to have you along for the journey. I wish you a swift and complete recovery. It wouldn't be the same without you.

Acadian - The most secretest of secret agents! Yes, an adventure it is. What else is there to do in Tamriel?

McB - Indeed, 'no beard' is always at least number 3 on the priority list. I'm glad you're enjoying it, your request for more has been approved!


Chapter 3

An adventure? I admit that it sounded interesting, but I’d never been invited on an adventure before. It was usually a case of wandering into one.

“I still say we should keep looking. What use is this scrawny lizard going to be?” Jötnar apparently had no issues about speaking his mind. Nevertheless I felt quite insulted – I’m quite useful in certain situations.

“Well I-” My explanation was cut short as the burly Nord strode forward, grabbing my sword.

“Who even uses this Dwarven rubbish? Looks like he just found it in a ruin!”

I had actually found it in a ruin, but I refrained from explaining to him that dwarven weaponry is often underestimated (since it doesn't look as deadly as iron or steel) and remained silent as he swung my sword around like a playground bully.

Well I can’t talk my way out of this, and I certainly can’t use strength to get my sword back. I’ll need some help.

Bringing a spell to the front of my mind, I made a small gesture with an (admittedly clammy) clawed hand. A storm atronach thundered into existence, dwarfing the massive Nord.

“Thiazzi,” the atronach turned to face me “could you please retrieve my sword. Gently.” Confidence comes much easier when you have a mountain on your side.

Thiazzi did as he was bid, letting out a thunderous roar. The lightning on his body was bright white, and crackled with a cold heat.

Olorin seemed mesmerised by the atronach. He had that look in his eye that many scholars get when they see other people’s work. The professional curiosity that only comes with years of experience.

Sjöfn was also smiling, but she was entirely focused on me. A storm atronach is enough to get anyone’s attention, and I’ve never been anything special to look at. Have I spilled tea on myself? I was beginning to blush, so I turned back to Thiazzi just as Jötnar held out my sword and a large stone fist retrieved it. He handed it back to me.

“Thank you, my friend.” I sheathed the blade and dismissed my ally with another gesture. He vanished back to Oblivion with another rumble.

Jötnar moved forward again, but made no attempt to grab anything. He was…smiling?

“It’s not often anyone impresses me so quickly, lad. You’ll be a fine addition to our crew.” He clapped me on the shoulder and let out a booming laugh. He had a strong northern accent to match his strong northern grip.

Ah, so it was a test! Are all my adventures in Cyrodiil going to be like this?

“My apologies. We just needed to make sure you could be of use,” Olorin’s smile had returned.

“It’s fine. Now about this adventure…” I’ve never been good at small talk, and if I was joining this expedition I’d need to know more.

“We’re going to a ruin to get an object. There’ll be things to kill, locked chests, traps. All the fun stuff.” Jötnar was positively beaming now. How had he managed to keep that cool expression for so long?

Olorin explained further;

“The ruin is called Atatar, it’s Ayleid. It lies to the North of Leyawiin. We’re not entirely sure what we’ll find inside but we’re looking for a certain statue.”

“When will this adventure take place? I have business in Leyawiin.” I was anxious to return, it had been far too long since I'd seen everyone.

“That depends. How good are you at stealth and spotting traps?”

“Quite good, I guess.” After exploring most of the Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell I was actually very good at that sort of thing, but modesty is important to a professional such as myself (and confidence had never been my strongest suit).

“Then we can set off tomorrow. We have a buyer for the statue and everything is prepared. If we’re all in agreement?” He turned to his companions.

“If he’s as sneaky as he looks then it’ll be a breeze.” I took that as a vote of confidence from Jötnar.

“I’ve always liked Argonians. They have the most beautiful eyes.” Finally she had spoken. Sjöfn’s voice was like snow on a still day. She had hints of a northern accent, but not nearly as strong as Jötnar’s. A swarm of butterflies took flight in my belly.

When most people see an Argonian they just see the scales, or the tail, or the horns. There is an old saying about eyes being the gateway to the soul, and it’s true. Argonians have very expressive eyes (which is why we don’t use as much facial expressions or body language as humans).

My eyes also revealed another part of me, which I would very much like to remain a secret – especially from beautiful women and business partners. Sometimes they were blue, like the rivers of Black Marsh, but sometimes they flashed yellow – like moons on a dark night. Had she seen? No, surely she’d say something if she knew…

“Do you need anything?” Olorin interrupted my momentary lapse of concentration and ignored my increasingly intense blushing.

“I need a bow and some lockpicks. I could use some better armour too.” I indicated my current outfit, which was rather worn and would be worth little in a fight.

“Consider this an advance on your salary. It’ll come out of your cut of the profits.” The mage handed me a large bag of coins. More than enough to buy what I needed.

“Thanks. I’ll get everything first thing tomorrow.”

“Excellent! We’ll be waiting at the Wawnet Inn. In the village of Weye.” Olorin stood, and turned to leave. Shaking my hand as he did so.

Sjöfn and Jötnar followed, grabbing their gear on the way. The redhead threw me a smile as she shouldered her pack. I reddened again, and suddenly felt very warm. Was I ill? Some sort of disease that can affect Argonians?

No matter. It would take more than an illness to quench my excitement.

An adventure! Leyawiin! Sjöfn! No, wait, scratch that last one. (Though to this day I’m not sure which option was the most interesting at the time.)


Alone at last, I finished my tea and headed to my quarters. It was exactly what you’d expect from a free room. Four walls, a bed, a bowl and a tub.

I heated the bath with a weak fire spell (the extent of my destruction abilities), stripped off my gear, and slid into the warm water. My busy day had worn me out, and I sank deeper into the bath and fell asleep.

My dreams were full of snow and pine trees.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 20 2015, 08:22 PM

A most impressive display from Haa-Rei as he recovers his sword. So, it was just a test the treasure hunters orchestrated to evaluate their new potential hire.

“I’ve always liked Argonians. They have the most beautiful eyes.” - - Sjöfn is exactly right! And . . . our scaly pal seems rather smitten by the beardless redhead.

Posted by: hazmick Feb 27 2015, 05:43 PM

Acadian - What's the point of magic if you can't use it to impress your friends? Conjuration is always popular at parties. And yes, we both have a weakness for redheads (and tea).

Chapter 4


Even for someone who can breathe underwater, waking up in a cold bath is not a pleasant experience. I numbly climbed out of the tub, dried myself off and got dressed. It would be a few minutes before my body warmed up and I got some energy, so I prepared some tea to speed up my morning.

The sky over the city was grey and cold as I left the Boarding House to gather all of the necessary equipment. By the time I’d purchased some new leather armour, some lockpicks, a steel bow and some iron arrows I was thoroughly fed up. Apparently the wealth of the Empire comes from the ridiculous prices of the capital city - most of my money was now gone.

I crossed the bridge leading away from the city just as it began to rain. My armour was waterproofed and I stowed most of my gear in my bag (an enchanted one I’d picked up in Morrowind – impossibly bigger on the inside to allow adventurers to carry more gear easily). The one thing I’ve never missed about Cyrodiil is the rain.

My fellow adventurers were waiting at the centre of the village. It was actually more of a ‘collection of buildings’ than anything else, with a couple of thatched houses and an inn. The entire place smelled like slaughterfish, which was probably the main food source for anyone around Lake Rumare. I’d rather eat my own boots to be quite honest.

“Good morning!” Olorin waved, his beard already beginning to look bedraggled in the rain.

Jötnar and Sjöfn greeted me with a smile and a nod, the latter from beneath a large hood (presumably to keep her hair dry). I suddenly realised that I’d completely forgotten to purchase a hood of my own. Not to keep me dry of course but more as a fashion accessory. Not to mention camouflage (my horns and head spines caught the light especially well, kind of like a human with a bald head).

“Everyone ready to go?”

“Yes, here’s a map of Cyrodiil if you don’t already have one. This is our route.” Olorin handed me a cloth map and indicated our route with a wrinkled finger. Everyone huddled closer to keep the rain from ruining the material.

We were to follow the Red Ring Road South and East around Lake Rumare, before turning South on the Green Road to Bravil and Leyawiin. Then it was a short journey from Leyawiin to the ruin. If everything went smoothly we would only need to make camp three times. The first location was an old fort near a village called Pell’s Gate.

It was refreshing to be with people who had planned everything so well – Olorin was quite the leader. Planning was never something I bothered with, mainly due to being lazy and deciding that everything would work out eventually. Fortunately I have since learned my lessons, but that comes later in the story.

We made good time on the road, with no bandits or wildlife to give us trouble. Say what you like about the Empire but the Legion patrols do a good job. I spent most of the journey scouting ahead, marvelling at all the new flora and fauna. Even the weather was on our side and soon the rain stopped and the sun began to shine, the greens and browns of the forest likewise bursting into life.

Every so often I’d backtrack to check on the others. Olorin and Jötnar were following the road while Sjöfn was acting as rear guard about half a mile behind. The two men were slower and less agile due to age and heavy armour (you can guess which was which) but Olorin’s calculations were correct and I spotted the village in the distance just before sunset. The village was not our destination however, so I crossed over to the north side of the road to investigate the fort.

To call it a fort would be an overstatement. At one point it might well have been an impressive structure but most of the walls were now just rubble, with only the main structure left standing. The pale grey stone of the large round tower was covered in moss and ivy, glistening from the recent rainfall as the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon. But even in its ruined state the fort was not abandoned. A lone figure stood guard, barely visible in the shadow of an old doorway.

I dropped to a crouch and edged carefully to a low wall. Bandits? Fellow adventurers? It would be safer to just shoot them now, or avoid the fort altogether, but I wasn’t working alone anymore. I slowly retreated to inform the others.

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“Bandits, most likely.” Jötnar’s look of distaste was clear, and I had no doubt that he wanted to clear the fort. Olorin remained calm:

“We need to be sure before we just run in. I’ll approach the fort alone to gauge their reaction.”

“Are you mad? What if they attack you?” Sjöfn had caught up with us.

“Well then it’ll be a good thing I have two fine young archers to cover me.” Olorin winked at her and gave me a nod.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” It was quite a good plan, even if the two Nords didn’t agree.

We would either find some friendly adventurers and have a peaceful night, or we would find some bandits and be forced to clear them out. It’s not unheard of for such people to live so near a settlement, they could easily resupply there and keep robbing people on the road without moving very far. Fighting them was not what worried me – protecting Olorin was much riskier. If there were more bandits hiding nearby or if they had bows too...

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“Good evening!” Olorin’s voice was friendly as ever when he addressed the lone Redguard sentry. She, however, was not so courteous and began to charge.

The bandit, for that was what she was, wore no proper armour. Just some dark hunting breeches and a dark green shirt. Her weapon was more professional - a large steal warhammer that was polished to a high shine. The weight of it slowed her advance, allowing me plenty of time to attack.

I was crouched behind a fallen tree slightly to the right, my leather armour blending in with the dark bark. I had three arrows stuck in the ground before me (just in case) and one in my hand. I steadied my breath and tightened my grip on my new bow.

Knock. Draw. Loose.

Posted by: ghastley Feb 27 2015, 06:24 PM

I agree with Haa-Rei about archers being the big worry. A mage may have reflect spell, and reflect damage active when he approaches the unknown enemy, but there is no reflect arrows! They also do a lot more damage than melee weapons, at the expense of having a chance to miss.

I was torn between whether Olorin or Jötnar would be the best to make the opening gambit here. Does the one in heavy armour look most threatening, or least likely to over-react? But since the reaction was to attack, we'll find out the real answer next time.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 27 2015, 08:19 PM

I’ve always liked how you acknowledge Haa-Rei’s Argonianness in many subtle ways – like falling asleep under water, needing some time and warmth to bring his body up to speed, being immune to the poisonous effects of nightshade tea and how his horns reflect the light.

I also enjoy the thought you put into some of the details of adventuring – from Haa-Rei’s magic bag to use of a cloth map (instead of fragile parchment) to noting how his companions had planned out the logisitics of their expedition in good detail.

Ah yes, the old ‘shoot now ask questions later’ vs ‘declare yourself’ dilemma when approaching strangers in Tamriel. I see they chose a reasonable but prudent plan.

Posted by: Grits Mar 1 2015, 02:50 PM

Yay for Haa-Rei, and yay for Cyrodiil adventures!

I already love the party of adventurers, especially the enchanting Sjöfn.

My dreams were full of snow and pine trees.

Like Acadian I enjoy Haa-Rei’s Argonianness, particularly his expressive eyes. I’ve always thought that Argonians had beautiful eyes.

Posted by: hazmick Mar 13 2015, 05:30 PM

ghastley - yep, need to keep an eye on those those pesky archers. As for the plan, I'm going on the premise that not everyone in Tamriel is an enemy so the friendly old man was more likely to work out. Then it turns out these people actually are enemies. *sigh* such is life.

Acadian - The Argonianness is always something I'm thinking about. Yeah they can breathe water and resist disease and poison in the games but how would that come in handy IRL?
I'm afraid that Haa-Rei probably wouldn't be as prudent if he was alone, so it's nice that he has friends for a change.

Grits - Yay for Grits! Good to have you along. And you've picked up on the important-but-hopefully-kind-of-subtle Sjöfn references! Hope you continue to enjoy the story.


Chapter 5


I instantly regretted not getting in some practice with my new bow before engaging bandits. My arrow glanced past the Redguard’s shoulder, leaving a thin cut. The wound would be painful, but a Redguard pumped full of adrenaline can shrug these things off.

Before I could fire again the sentry fell, one of Sjöfn’s owl-fletched arrows buried deep in her chest. I nodded my thanks and readied another arrow. A cool breeze rustled through the damp trees. The sun had set, but the moon had bathed the area in an eerie white light. More movement in the fort caught my eye.

An archer dressed in huntsman leathers appeared at the top of the central tower, bow drawn, her large eyes fixed on her fallen comrade. She looked pale in the moonlight.

I tried to remain still, hoping that she would turn away and give me a shot. Between her and me was a knee high wall, but she had the height advantage. Fortunately on one side was a taller wall which shielded her from Sjöfn and Olorin. It was just her and me.

The Bosmer’s arrow thudded into the fallen tree, a few inches from my head. I guess I’ve been spotted.

I had time before she fired again and made sure to aim properly. Now or never.

Nock. Draw. Loose.

She fell from the tower and landed in the mud below. I let out a shaky breath which I didn’t realise I’d been holding.

Olorin sounded the all clear and dispelled his shield enchantment as we regrouped.

“Good start. Let’s hope there aren’t too many inside.” I nodded my agreement with the mage and followed him into the ruin.

The fort was much bigger than I first thought, with various underground passages disappearing off into the gloom. Olorin cast a couple of spells - what looked to be detect life and something similar.

“There are three sections. Eight Marauders in total.” The Altmer’s eyes seemed to pierce the very stone around us. I found myself wishing I wasn’t so inept at non-conjuration magic.

“I assume you have a plan, old man.” Jötnar was impatient to get started.

“Haa-Rei shall accompany me on this level. You two clear out the lower passages. Report back as soon as you’re done.”

With a final ‘good luck’ from the Nords, we parted ways. I nocked an arrow and started along the hallway, with Olorin following behind.

I wasn’t used to having people with me in these situations and I found myself wincing at every loud step he took. When we neared the first couple of marauders I drop into a crouch and motioned for my companion to stay where he was.

The first marauder proved no trouble, and fell with one of my arrows in her neck. The second was equally unarmoured and unprepared, but his hammer clattered to the ground and echoed through the tunnel, accompanied by a loud (albeit short) scream.

“Xhuth!” I swore loudly and dropped my bow as the third and final marauder dashed round the corner. A large Orc, with green skin so dark it was almost black. Unlike his allies he wore armour, though it had seen better days. I could see several gaps in the iron plates. My bow would be useless at this range.

I drew my sword to meet him, remembering too late that I had no shield. The steel hammer hit me in the side with all the force the Orc could muster. Were it not for my armour’s shield enchantment my ribcage would have been crushed.

Instead I was flung into the tunnel wall, winded but alive. Speed, not strength. The voice in my head sounded like a parent wearily scolding a child.

I got to my feet in time to dodge another hammer swing. And another, and another. Even an Orc of his size would tire eventually. Patience is key. I took any opportunity to jab my sword through the gaps in his armour, the dwarven metal slicing through his tough, green hide with ease. His blood looked almost black in the dimly lit tunnel.

Finally his frustration got the better of him and he brought the hammer down in a mighty overhead swing. I skipped to the side and drove my sword through a gap in his armour, deep into his neck.

A look of surprise washed over his face as he crashed to the ground. I retrieved my sword and used a piece of the Orc’s tunic to clean up. The metallic smell of blood stung my nostrils and I felt my chest tightening. No! Not now. I steadied myself on a wooden tunnel support and reached into the potion bag at my waist.

The medicine was bitter and made my eyes water but it did the job. I shuddered and put the empty vial back in the bag.

I glanced back along the tunnel, double-checking that Olorin was still there.

The old wizard was smiling widely, if he was concerned he didn’t show it;

“Very well done my young friend, very well done. Let’s search the rest of this level and then set up camp, hm?” It was more of a request than an order, his friendly tone was full of encouragement.

It turned out that the bandits were as poor as paupers, which would explain their lack of equipment. We found a small amount of gold and a single health potion. I swigged the potion and felt instantly better, it even healed a cut on my head that I didn’t know I had. Most likely sustained in my dance with the Orsimer.

It wasn’t long before the others re-joined us. Jötnar was covered in blood (none of it his own) whilst Sjöfn looked clean and refreshed as if she’d just had a relaxing bath. Their loot was only slightly better than ours.

“Well we came here to clear the ruin, not make money.” Olorin split the profits into four separate bags and handed it out between us all.

“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have more.” Jötnar’s take looked especially small when he held it in his enormous hand.

“It’s enough for a room and some food at an inn. What more do you need?” Sjöfn’s comment was met with an ambiguous grunt by her brother.

She vanished into the tunnel for a moment and returned with an armful of wood. The marauders apparently had a well-stocked log pile.

After Olorin had lit the fire with a handy destruction spell he produced a large pot and various ingredients – including but not limited to; water, a rabbit (dead, skinned), carrots, potatoes, and onions. He had a pack similar to mine, though he apparently had an entire kitchen and pantry in his. Mine was full of books and tea.

Not one to complain though, especially when free food is on offer, I helped prepare some of the vegetables to go with the rabbit. This all went into the pot and produced a rich and delicious broth. The chunks of rabbit meat practically melting into it.

Once we had eaten and cleaned up we set up the sleeping area. I unrolled my sleeping sack a few feet away from the others, who were all set up around the fire. Sjöfn would take the first watch, and wake me after a few hours. I’d most likely be awake anyway but for now I was tired and sore.

The adventurer’s life was as satisfying as it was difficult.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 13 2015, 07:50 PM

Nice job clearing that bandit fort. Archer vs archer can be a deadly dance, so I’m glad Haa-Rei managed to prevail quickly. Even more dangerous is an angry orc with a warhammer – eep! Once again, Haa-Rei did well. During the orc fight, I did have visions of his Altmeri mage pal hiding behind a column – leaving the fighting to Haa-Rei. Speaking of that mage, very neat how you described his divining magicks from Haa-Rei’s perspective to learn more of the inside of that fort. And the wizard even has a magic bag like Haa-Rei. Love that our Argonian’s bag is filled with books and (of course) tea.

Yum, rabbit stew! This little crew does know how to camp!

Posted by: ghastley Mar 13 2015, 08:20 PM

I find myself agreeing with Acadian about the passivity of the Altmer. Couldn't he have thrown some kind of spell against the Orc? But then, we don't know what kind of magic he can do, other than detect life.

One nit: My arrow glanced passed past the Redguard’s shoulder,

Posted by: hazmick Mar 20 2015, 07:29 PM

Acadian - Haa-Rei much prefers it if his companions keep out the way. The last thing he needs is to think about dodging spells from behind. Glad you like the magic bits, I'm always trying to explain game stuff (like inventories, maps, compasses) to make it seem more realistic. Not sure UESP was around back then to help adventurers out

ghastley - As I said to Acadian, the last thing anyone wants from a companion is to be hit in the back by rogue spells. I'm not even sure Olorin can use many destruction spells now that I think about it Thanks for spotting that pesky error, those nits sure are sneaky


Chapter 6


I’d managed to keep the fire going all night while I was on watch duty, but even still the stone fort was freezing cold by the time morning came and the others woke up.

As Olorin and Jötnar prepared breakfast I was half-led, half-dragged outside by Sjöfn, my body feeling sluggish from the cold. She walked me over to a low wall and sat me down, vanishing back into the fort. She returned a few moments later with a steaming mug of tea which she pressed into my hand.

I attempted to thank her, but I instead made an odd croaking noise. Apparently my tongue had gone numb from the cold too.

“Have a drink and try again,” The Nord let out a burst of musical laughter, almost sounding like the wildlife which had begun to come to life around us. “I know how hard it is for you Argonians to get moving in the morning.”

I took a sip of tea before I tried again, the warm liquid immediately loosening the knot in my tongue;

“Thank you. So…have you travelled with Argonians before?” I’m usually terrible at small talk, especially when my brain is still asleep, but the words practically fell out of my mouth. There’s nothing like a nice cup of tea if you want to make friends.

“Yeah, it was a few years ago now. Back up in Skyrim. She was a mage friend of Olorin’s so she could use destruction magic to warm herself up, but it was still a struggle sometimes.”

“I can imagine. I visited Solstheim a while ago and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.” I could almost feel the intense cold from the snow. Had it not been for some enchanted gear, I’d most likely have frozen to death as soon as I got off the boat.

“Solstheim? That’s nothing on the northern part of Skyrim. Even the sea freezes up there!” She flashed me a smile and turned to look at Lake Rumare. The fort was only a few feet away from the water. Probably why it’s so darn cold in the underground sections.

We sat in silence for a while, the morning sun creeping over the trees to reflect on the lake like a thousand sapphire crystals. I was tempted to go for a swim, but I was quite content where I was.

The heavy door of the fort creaked open as the others joined us. Jötnar was a better cook than he looked, replacing my empty mug with a plate of sausages and fried egg. I wolfed it down and wandered down to the lake to help wash up.

Once everyone was ready we set off again, this time heading south.

It was a beautiful morning, perfect for a walk. I was acting as rear-guard today so I could take it relatively easy. I found myself stopping every so often to gaze at a waterfall or distant ruins, promising myself to come back this way and explore when I had the chance.

After a few hours I saw the others stop up ahead and jogged to catch up.

“There’s an inn just down here, we’ll stop there for a while. We should make it to Bravil just after nightfall.” Olorin gestured in the general direction of the inn and then Bravil. We weren’t in a hurry to get anywhere so a break would be nice.

The inn in question was named the Faregyl Inn. It looked like something from an old story book, with a thatched roof and pale smoke rising from a stout chimney.

The interior was larger than I thought it would be, with a large common room on the lower floor. A square counter surrounded the fireplace and a Khajiit greeted us from there.

“Well met travellers! Welcome to Faregyl. My name is Abhuki.” Her voice had only the slightest hint of an Elsweyr accent. Her smile was similar to Olorin’s – undoubtedly friendly and sincere, as if our mere appearance brought her unbridled joy.

Olorin moved to the bar to order food and drinks while the rest of us sat down. Besides us there were two other people – a human and another Khajiit. That man introduced himself as Alix Lencolia. The other Khajiit was called S’Jirra.

As we ate the other residents joined us, apparently they don’t get many visitors out here. Olorin and Abhuki were having a conversation about alteration magic, apparently something they were both adept in (other than smiling), while Jötnar and Alix were deeply engrossed in a talk about farming.

I was quite content to sit in silence, slowly but surely devouring a piece of roast lamb as I tried to listen to everyone else’s conversations. It didn’t last long, however, as Sjöfn dragged me into her conversation with S’Jirra;

“Well Haa-Rei and I would love to help you out. Wouldn’t we?” We would? The Nord’s red eyebrows were raised in a way that suggested ‘no’ was not a possible answer.

“Help out with what, exactly?” It almost sounded as if I hadn’t been listening to their conversation about potatoes, some of which had apparently been stolen from S’Jirra earlier this morning.

“Can you help me find my lost jumbo potatoes? Please, you must help me find them! My potatoes are like my children!” Her feline eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Ever the hero, I accepted the quest and set off with Sjöfn in pursuit of the potato thief. The other half of our party were still engrossed in their respective conversations.

“According to the map there are no settlements, forts or ruins in the direction of our thief’s last location. So it was likely an animal that S’Jirra saw.” I stowed the map in my pack and glanced around. The forest was bright and warm, no signs of any other people. Why would a human steal potatoes anyway? The woods were bursting with edible plants and animals.

“Thanks for helping out by the way. I can shoot pretty well but my hunting skills aren’t that great. You’re more of the ranger type, right?” My fellow potato detective paused to ready her bow.

“Yeah, I was trained to be a Marsh Ranger back home.” I followed Sjöfn’s lead and readied my bow. You can never be too careful when hunting for potatoes.

“You’re from Black Marsh?”

“Originally, but I-“ Questions would have to wait. I dropped into a crouch and motioned for Sjöfn to do the same.

“What have- Oh” She’d seen it too.

Our potato thief was an ogre.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 20 2015, 10:31 PM

“Have a drink and try again,” The Nord let out a burst of musical laughter, almost sounding like the wildlife which had begun to come to life around us. “I know how hard it is for you Argonians to get moving in the morning.” - - I love this little passage for how elegantly it reminds of Haa-Rei’s reptilian nature as well as how taken he is by the red-headed Nordic beauty.

What a nice respite and description of the Faregyl Inn and its residents.

Oh noes, not the great jumbo potato caper!

Posted by: ghastley Mar 23 2015, 06:31 PM

OK, nit first - although "half-lead" probably describes the way he feels quite accurately, you probably meant 'half-led"

So she brought him a nice hot cup of tea? She must be British, old chap. Don't get confused by that name of hers. Historically good archers, they are, so don't worry about the ogre. Mind you, I can't find any record of British archers defeating ogres before, but that's just a detail.

Posted by: hazmick Mar 27 2015, 03:03 PM

Acadian - If there's one thing Haa-Rei and I enjoy, it's a respite

ghastley - Tea is universal, my friend. I'm sure I heard something about ogres in my GCSE history lessons. Something about ogres getting stuck in the mud and defeated by Welsh longbows? I forget.


Chapter 7



After being born in Black Marsh, living in Lleyawiin, and adventuring in Morrowind, I’d encountered many weird and wonderful creatures. From mundane creatures like alligators and nix hounds, to magical beings such as atronachs, and everything in between. Ogres are something entirely different.

Ogres are just human enough to be scary, with the added savagery and brutality of a wild beast. It had the basic shape of a man (albeit a particularly large man) with long, muscular arms and legs. The torso was like a huge grey barrel, impossibly large as if it had just swallowed a wheelbarrow whole. The tiny head looked most out of place and primarily served as housing for a huge mouth – full of grotesque teeth which were clearly visible even at this distance.

Sjöfn and I were crouched behind a large blackberry bush a few metres away. The wind blew the scent of the ogre straight at us. It reeked of sweat and general uncleanliness.

“There, the bag.” Sjöfn’s barely audible whisper pulled my attention to the task at hand.

A large satchel was slung across the ogre’s shoulder. Dark leather to match his sandals and loincloth. The height of fashion for barbarians and beasts alike. More importantly however was the size of it – perfect for carrying several large potatoes.

We both fired at the same time, our arrows hitting the ogre with a light thud. With a growl and a wave of its massive hand the ogre brushed the arrows off as if they were mosquitoes on a hot day. By the Hist, its skin must be centimeters thick!

Sjöfn was much faster than me and fired again in the blink of an eye, this time her arrow glanced off of the ogre’s head. The beast was less than pleased, and turned its gaze to meet mine.

It had been a while since I’d been that scared. It was the eyes that terrified me. They were small and beady but held a small degree of intelligence. Enough intelligence to be dangerous, but not enough to use predictable tactics.

Sjöfn swore under her breath in Nordic. We needed help.

Raising my hand, I cast the spell. The storm atronach appeared moments later. Thiazzi had gotten me out of more tough situations than I could count.

The floating rocks formed the basic humanoid shape that would allow him to fight. Two massive arms pointed forward, sending an arc of lightning at the ogre. A direct hit left the beast with a large wound on its chest.

Roaring in what could have been pain, anger, or both, the ogre lumbered forward. Thiazzi also moved forward, floating a couple of centimeters off the ground to move faster.

The two proceeded to exchange blows with their large fists. The occasional rumble of thunder from the atronach made the fight seem like something from an old song. Every blow from the ogre was met with a small electrical discharge - it was practically punching itself.

Finally, after several minutes, the fight was over. The ogre staggered back, swaying on its feet, before crashing to the ground. Thiazzi roared triumphantly and turned to me, awaiting my next command.

“Thank you, my friend,” Over the years I’d developed quite the friendship with my atronach. The conversations were rather one-sided but it always made me happy to see him. Atronachs are hugely complex creatures, with thoughts and feelings like any living being. Most of the time Thiazzi seemed happy to just be there.

“Friend?” Sjöfn had joined us after making sure the ogre was truly dead.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced. Thiazzi, meet Sjöfn. Sjöfn, this is Thiazzi. My most trusted ally and oldest travelling companion.” I’m sure I sounded quite ridiculous, but as always my confidence was boosted tenfold whenever one of my atronachs was around.

Sjöfn barely suppressed a giggle (yep, definitely ridiculous) before turning to Thiazzi and greeting him with a nod. The atronach let out a low rumble and likewise nodded. I always imagined that he would be quite eloquent and polite if he could speak.

I raised my hand once again and thanked him a final time as he faded back into Oblivion.

“So that was fun,” my Nord companion grinned as she held up the vanquished ogre’s satchel, “all potatoes accounted for”.

“Excellent. I’m just glad that it’s ogre.” I glanced at her sideways to see how well received my pun was.

She rolled her eyes but the smile never left her face;

“Good grief. You and my brother are going to get along perfectly. C’mon, let’s head back.”

We chatted a bit more on the walk back, mainly about the ogre. I made a mental note to purchase a book on native creatures at the next opportunity. I didn’t relish being in a situation like that again.

The inn was still as quite as ever when we returned. Olorin was dozing in a chair by the fire. Jötnar was still in the same seat as before, still engaged in conversation with Alix. The topic had apparently changed from farming to travelling. Had he even noticed our absence?

S’Jirra approached us as we entered;

“You have them! I can sense they’re with you!” I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little odd, but she looked beyond happy as Sjöfn handed over the satchel. “Oh my goodness! You found them! I could kiss you!”

I took a quick step back to avoid her attempt at a hug, leaving Sjöfn to be pulled into an embrace.

“That’s not necessary,” she could barely get her words out, the Khajiit’s happiness was practically suffocating her. I made no move to intervene, I’m not a hugger. Or a toucher at all. Or much of a speaker most of the time.

After an uncomfortable amount of time S’Jirra released my fellow potato detective;

“As promised, I owe you a reward for your efforts. I present you with my first batch of Famous Potato Bread! More valuable than gold!” She handed over four loaves of bread, before returning to her room upstairs with her beloved potatoes.

“More valuable than gold?” Sjöfn sounded as unimpressed as I felt.

“It does smell good though…and I am quite peckish after our adventure.” My stomach grumbled to prove my point. Slaying monsters is hungry work.

We sat down at the table in the corner, splitting a loaf between us.

The bread was soft and warm, and the potatoes were almost like butter. I glanced at Sjöfn to get her reaction;

“By Kynareth, this is delicious!” Sjöfn must have noticed the smile in my eyes, bursting into more musical laughter.

S’Jirra was right, this is more valuable than gold.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 27 2015, 07:12 PM

This was simply a delightful treatment of the Nirn-famous Great Potato caper. I simply loved your use and treatment of Thiazzi! Being attached to and caring about one’s summon seems as natural as breathing in the magical land of Tamriel. And he did indeed change the tide of that battle!

Nice ending – one could interpret Haa-Rei’s assessment that the bread was indeed worth its weight in gold due to its famous taste. . . or romantics like me might conclude that the bread’s true value can be found in the musical laughter that it inspired from Sjöfn.

Posted by: ghastley Mar 29 2015, 06:38 PM

The bread's certainly easier to eat than gold. Didn't King Midas starve to death?

Now, it just needs another pot of tea to wash it down.

Nit: Sjöfn swore under her breath in Nordic. - lost a word somehow.

Posted by: Grits Mar 30 2015, 04:04 PM

We sat in silence for a while, the morning sun creeping over the trees to reflect on the lake like a thousand sapphire crystals. I was tempted to go for a swim, but I was quite content where I was.

Sjöfn’s charms must be considerable to keep an Argonian out of that lake! Beautifully done.

I’m not a hugger. Or a toucher at all. Or much of a speaker most of the time.

Lol. What a charming potato adventure in the Great Forest!

Posted by: hazmick Apr 17 2015, 05:58 PM

Acadian - I'm glad I managed to do the quest justice, and I'm glad you picked up on the romance. I'm not good at that sort of stuff so I'm happy that it seems to be working.

As for Thiazzi, you're absolutely right. Haa-Rei has known him longer than he's known most people so it's only fair that they're friends. It'd be like having a horse or ancient spirit guardian as close companions. That's actually not a bad idea for a story...

ghastley - more tea? Well if you insist...

Grits - Argonians can swim wherever they like, but it's not everyday you can find a charming companion to share some tea with


Chapter 8

In the name of brotherhood, friendship, and kindness, Sjöfn and I decided to share the bread with the others. We kept a loaf each for ourselves and gave Jötnar and Olorin one to share. There’s such a thing as being too kind, after all.

After we’d shared out the bread rations and thanked our hosts, we set off South in the direction of Bravil. Once again Olorin’s plans were right on time, even after taking a detour with the potato investigation.

I took the lead, scouting ahead of the others, with Sjöfn acting as rear guard. The roads were still quiet, with most travellers opting to take boats up the river to the Imperial City rather than risking attacks from bandits or wildlife. The only person I saw was an Imperial ranger, who greeted me with a wave before disappearing back into the wilderness.

As for wildlife it was an equally quiet day. I spotted a large black bear in the distance, but as long as you respect their privacy most animals won’t bother with you. A boar illustrated my point after wandering into the same clearing as me. After a few moments of staring at each other he grunted and wandered off.

The afternoon sun was warm and bright as the light filtered through the trees. Birds flitted through the branches, calling out to each other in songs.

I stopped for a quick snack at a large blueberry bush. The berries popped in my mouth, bursting with flavour. I made sure to pick the ones that were still slightly unripe for their sourness. I resisted the urge to devour every berry in sight (with great effort) and instead reached into my bag. I took out my journal and tore a strip from one of the blank pages, which I then attached to the bush. Proud of my handiwork, I continued onwards along the Green Road.

Just as I was trying to decide which road in Cyrodiil was my favourite, I heard an odd noise. It was like a low growl, but nothing I’d heard before. I could feel in my head spines that something was near. That distinct feeling of danger that had saved me countless times in the past. I froze on the spot as the creature came into view.

“By the Hist…” I whispered to myself. I’d seen my first minotaur.

I’d read about them, and always thought they sounded interesting, but the creature before me was nothing short of magnificent.

The beast’s great hooves supported two muscular legs, and a long cow’s tail swished this way and that at any lazy fly that dared get close enough. The torso was that of a huge, muscular man. Rippling muscles shone in the sunlight, and two equally large human arms hung by its sides. An iron warhammer was being carried effortlessly in one hand, as I would carry a quill. The head was the most striking part. It was the head of a mighty bull, broad and thick, with two huge horns reaching upwards. As a creature with horns myself, I could fully appreciate their majesty. And weight.

My bow was already in my hand, but I didn’t want to fight this creature if I could avoid it. It might sound strange, an adventurer that doesn’t want to fight monsters, but there was something about this minotaur (and indeed every minotaur that I’ve encountered since) that made me pause. I wasn’t especially scared…it was more of a respect. It wasn’t until later in my adventures that I really understood the feeling. For now, I was in for a fight.

The beast’s large hazel eyes finally fixed on me. Although I was crouching, I was doing so in the middle of the road and as such wasn’t difficult to spot. The eyes reminded me of the ogre. There was intelligence in them. Not quite wisdom, but intelligence nonetheless.

My hesitation vanished and my body reacted without having to think. Nocking and firing an arrow in one swift movement.

The minotaur roared out as the arrow struck its chest. Raising the large hammer, it charged forward, determined to close the distance between us. I managed to fire another arrow before having to dive out of the way.

“Xuth! That’s faster than I expected.” I’d left my bow in the road. I wouldn’t need it.

The minotaur turned at an impossible angle, charging again. I drew my sword just in time to deflect a hammer swing. Despite its natural ability the attacks weren’t too difficult to deal with. It was as if he’d just picked up the hammer for the first time.

Regardless of skill, a single blow would hurt a lot and potentially do some damage. I was managing to avoid the attacks but couldn’t find an opening to retaliate.

Then at last I saw my chance. A poorly timed swing allowed me to knock the hammer away and drive my sword deep into the minotaur’s torso. It roared in pain and lashed out with its free arm, hitting me squarely in the chest and knocking me back several feet. My sword came with me, leaving a large wound just below his ribs. The minotaur staggered, then swayed, then fell. I was victorious.

I was also winded, and had to take a few moments to catch my breath. I tried to stand, and shakily walked over to my adversary. The hazel eyes were dimly staring into the sky. I bent down and closed them. Then, for no discernable reason, I used my sword to cut off one of his horns. It was about the length of my forearm, a pristine bone colour. It ended in a dull point, and I silently thanked the Hist that he hadn’t used his horns as a weapon. I stowed my trophy in my pack and went to retrieve my bow.

Leaving it in the road had been a mistake. All it had taken was one large hoof to snap it in two. I put the pieces into my pack, hoping they could be repaired in Bravil. Will there be a decent weaponsmith in such a small town?

Looking up, I could see the city in the distance. The setting sun flooded the forest with pink light as I continued along the road.

Posted by: Acadian Apr 17 2015, 08:22 PM

This continues to be simply a delightful tale. I love the slower pace, allowing Haa-Rei to share some of his delightful observations with us, for your descriptions are wonderful.

Yum, blueberries! Why did he attach a strip of parchment from his journal to the bush? To mark it for his return trip or for those traveling behind him perhaps?

He is wise to let most of the forest’s inhabitants just go on their way. An exciting fight with the minotaur though!

Too bad about his bow but, yes, I think he’ll find a very skilled bowyer who can repair it in Bravil.


Oops: ‘Just as I was trying to decide which road in Cyrodiil was my favourite, I heart an odd noise.’ - - I’m sure you meant ‘heard’ not ‘heart’ here.

Posted by: Grits Apr 21 2015, 03:03 PM

It was nice to see that wildlife in your story isn’t as rabidly aggressive as the game presents. I loved the mood you set as the road passed through the forest. Yikes, minotaur! Excellent explanation of how Haa-Rei managed to prevail. Haa-Rei’s respect for the majestic creature made me like him even more.

Posted by: hazmick May 29 2015, 03:10 PM

Acadian - I'm always conscious of rushing through things, so I'm glad you're enjoying the slower pace. New bow soon, and where else but the AP would one go to buy it?

Grits - Glad you enjoyed it! I love Minotaurs, they look so impressive. As for the wildlife, yeah it always annoys me when you play a game which makes everything (except deer) attack you on sight. I get that it's more exciting but sometimes I just like going for a nice walk

EVeryone - apologies for the inconsistent writing releases. It's partially because I don't want to force myself to write stuff when I don't feel like it, and partially because I'm lazy. Your continued support is much appreciated, and I'll definitely keep writing as long as there are people to read it.


Chapter 9


It was dark by the time I arrived at Bravil. The water around the city was reflecting the moonlight, casting beautiful patterns on the high stone walls. I took a seat on the edge of the drawbridge leading to the city gates, in order to wait for the rest of my companions. Two guards stood watch, the leaping deer symbol on their chests illuminated by the torches they carried.

Jötnar and Olorin arrived several minutes later, with Sjöfn a couple of minutes behind them.

“We saw the minotaur back there. Your handiwork?” As I’d guessed, Jötnar was always wanting to hear, and tell, stories of battles. Not sure one Argonian fighting a single minotaur counts as a battle, but it was nice of him to show an interest.

“I’d never seen one until today. Are they all that big?”

The Nord let out a rough laugh before answering,

“That one wasn’t anything special. I’ve seen minotaur lords that were twice as big!”

I tried to imagine something that size in my head, but I wasn’t sure if I’d seen anything big enough to compare it to. Maybe a house? Or a small fort?

“Shall we continue this discussion somewhere a little warmer? And perhaps with a little wine?” The moonlight on Olorin’s face made him look much older, and I was also suddenly aware of the cold breeze blowing in from the water. With that, we entered the city.

If I had to describe Bravil in one word, it would be ‘damp’. If I had to use two words, it would be ‘damp’ and ‘brown’.

The entire city was built around the water, with several buildings perched on wooden stilts on the water’s edge. It was very different from the uniform stone buildings of the capital, but I liked it more. The ramshackle array of shacks felt much more comfortable, even if some looked in need of repair.

My companions immediately headed for the nearest inn, named ‘Silverhome on the Water’ just inside the gates. I later learned that this was one of two such establishments in the city, the other was located on the other side of the small river (or is it a canal? Or an inlet?). The patrons of Silverhome were mostly travelers and off-duty guards, with a few locals perched in prime place at the bar.

Olorin selected a booth for us to sit in and motioned at a passing barmaid. After a lengthy discussion about the best available wine, Olorin finally ordered food and refreshment for the rest of the group. Wine for Sjöfn, ale for Jötnar, and tea for myself.

The ‘tea’ turned out to be little more than hot milk water which may or may not have had some sort of leaf briefly dipped into it. The meal was much better. A chicken and potato stew, accompanied by a large slice of creamy yellow cheese and thick bread.

Once we’d finished, the group dispersed among the crowd. Olorin chose a seat by the fire, and immediately fell asleep. Jötnar joined a rowdy discussion about fishing, sharing his own tales of the time he caught a ‘horker the size of a carriage’ with his bare hands (much to the amusement of the local fishermen). Sjöfn hadn’t moved 5 steps before a gentleman approached her, but he moped away a few minutes later looking considerably downcast. I decided against trying to speak to her myself and instead chose to go for a walk. I’ve never enjoyed loud places, and with every mug of ale or glass of wine the inn was just getting louder.

The city streets were much more peaceful. The only sound being the muffled revelry from the inn and the water of the river lapping gently against the wooden docks.

On my walk I discovered that Bravil had more to offer than I first assumed. There was a fighters guild, a mages guild, some sort of suspicious looking magical shop, a chapel, and (to my great surprise) an archery shop. The Archers Paradox. It was closed for now, and I made a mental note to visit in the morning to see if I could repair or replace my current bow.

Pausing on a bridge, I watched the water for a while. The city water gates had been closed for the night, and with no boats to disturb it the small canal was moving slowly, the twin moons reflected in its smooth, dark surface.

The light scent of fish drifted by on the breeze, the source of the scent was a heavyset Imperial, carrying an armful of nets. I watched him walk down to the docks, readying his small fishing boat for the next day.

I could hear some light footsteps behind me, and tuned to find Sjöfn approaching, cheeks slightly flushed from the wine.

“How is it that I can sneak up on a deer close enough to use a knife, but I can’t get within ten feet of you?” She was smiling, but I had the impression that it was a serious question. Playing it safe, I chuckled and turned back towards the water.

The Nord joined me, leaning over the side of the bridge to peer into the murky canal. We stood in silence for a few minutes before she spoke again.

“What do you think of Bravil?” Oh dear. Small talk.

“It’s nice. A bit damp, but it looks like there’s lots of places to see.”

“It’s the furthest South I’ve been. Olorin says that Lleyawiin is much nicer. You been there before?”

“I used to live there. It’s not that much bigger than Bravil, but more spacious.” The cramped shacks of Bravil were a far cry from some of the larger houses of Lleyawiin, with their brightly painted facades. Even Deeh’s house was spacious in comparison to the average Bravilian home.

“Really? You don’t sound like you’re from Cyrodiil…” Her eyebrow was raised again. She would make a great interrogator for The Legion.

“I’m originally from Black Marsh, but moved to Lleyawiin when I was younger.” I didn’t want to say more, especially to someone I’d just met. Thankfully she didn’t press the issue, and changed the subject.

“We should be getting back. The place will have quietened down by now.”

I nodded and followed her back to the inn, which had indeed settled down. Everyone had either gone to bed or passed out.

“Oh! Before you go,” Sjöfn reached into her pocket and produced a slip of parchment, stained in several places with blueish-purple fingerprints. “thanks for the blueberries.”

“You’re welcome. Good night.” I chuckled to myself as I headed to bed. Apparently she hadn’t been able to resist eating every berry on the bush. Folding the parchment carefully, I slid it into my pocket.

I was sharing a room with Olorin, meaning I would be sleeping on the floor. The old mage was snoring deeply when I arrived, and I didn’t dare wake him. Sliding fully dressed into my sleeping sack, I slowly fell asleep. Thinking of Lleyawiin, and home.

Posted by: Acadian May 29 2015, 06:35 PM

So nice to see you continuing this. Don’t worry about the slow posting pace; it is a lizard’s prerogative to take long breaks between spurts of movement. That said, one thing that can particularly help when posting a story slowly is to begin each update with a very small ‘in our last episode. . .‘ type summary. Normally, that only needs be a sentence or two to bring us right up to speed and ready to jump right into the current episode.

Welcome to Bravil! The beautiful forest City of Mara, caressed by the Niben. Damp and brown sounds perfect for Haa-Rei. After a nice dinner (but weak tea), Sjöfn and Haa-Rei enjoy some small talk by the river on a beautiful night. Ahah. One of my guesses about the strip of parchment was right – marking that blueberry bush for those who followed.

I hope Daenlin can take care of Haa-Rei’s archery needs in the morning.

Posted by: mALX May 30 2015, 03:35 PM

It kills me to have Haa-Rei's story finally getting posted and I can't read it; and I've always loved your writing and roleplay! You will always have my support, and one day hopefully I'll find a work-around so I can read about the characters and stories I love again; and finally catch up on Haa-Rei.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 6 2015, 04:34 PM

Acadian - Thanks for the tip, and (as always) the encouragement.

I've always liked Bravil - there are some really nice people living there. (and some not-so-nice people, but we don't concern ourselves with them)


mALX - Thankyou so much for stopping by. Your writing has always been one of my inspirations for fanfiction, and it's such a shame that I can't repay the favor. I hope you can read it one day, but if not I'll always keep updating everyone with Haa-Rei's adventures in other parts of Chorrol.




Previously:
Haa-Rei, Olorin, Jotnar, and Sjofn arrived in Bravil. The next stop on their journey to the Ayleid ruin of Atatar. Leaving the others to their festivities, Haa-Rei took the opportunity to explore Bravil and located an archery shop which he plans to visit in order to find a new bow.

Chapter 10

There was a chill in the air when I awoke the next morning. I decided to forgo the poor excuse for tea that Silverhome offered and made my way towards the archery establishment I’d seen earlier.

My progress was slow as the early morning was made considerably worse by a shower of freezing rain, meaning that I was even more sluggish than usual. I would have preferred an extra hour or two (or three) in bed, but our party was heading out soon. The life of an adventurer is truly full of trials.

After a rather embarrassing amount of time I finally made it to The Archer’s Paradox – a mid-sized shack perched on the far side of Bravil. Were it not for the sign outside it could be easily mistaken for another home.

It was warm and inviting inside, with a roaring fire on the far side of the room to stave off the damp. The main feature of the shop was a low counter, showing off an incredible range of bows and arrows. Behind the counter was an old Bosmer, dressed in hunter’s leggings and jerkin. The latter was open and sleeveless as if to show off his surprisingly muscular arms and chest. He smiled warmly as I closed the door behind me.

“The Archer’s Paradox. Because a perfect arrow flies forever, and that’s impossible. I’m Daenlin, and I have no perfect arrows.” The speech was obviously rehearsed, but he was so cheerful that it sounded as if he’d just come up with it and I was the first person he’d rushed over to share it with.

“Hello. Haa-Rei.” My brain struggled to conjure up the strength for a proper greeting. By the Hist, I must sound like a complete moron.

“Ah don't worry, my boy. Here.” He disappeared towards the fireplace for a moment and returned with a steaming cup.

Oh no, not Bravil tea. Please let it be ok.

Clearly Silverhome had cornered the market on poor teacraft. If Daenlin’s bows were as good as his beverages, I was about to be a very happy lizard.

The Bosmer waited patiently while I sipped at the tea. I could feel myself warming up, and after a couple of minutes I was ready for conversation.

“Ah. Thank you. I’m still getting used to early mornings. My name is Haa-Rei.”

“I know the feeling. Rain plays havoc with my knees these days as well. Anyway, what can I do for you today Haa-Rei?” For a moment I felt as if we’d been friends for years.

“Oh right. I’m looking for a new bow.” I retrieved the pieces of my current bow from my pack, and laid them on the counter.

“Poor thing,” The aging Bosmer ran his hands over the ex-weapon, as one would to comfort a dying animal. “I could repair it in a couple of hours, but you’d be better off getting a new one – this one isn’t quite the right size for you.” Right size for me? Is this a Bosmer thing?

He reached under the counter and presented me with an iron bow. It was perhaps an inch longer than my previous weapon, and had spots of rust here and there.

“How does that size feel? A bow isn’t just a weapon, it’s a companion. If you’re not compatible with it you won’t be able to unlock its true potential. Size is a good starting point.”

“It’s good. I think. It feels…right?” Compatible? True potential? Is he adding a little something to his tea?

“Excellent. Now that’s just a training bow to gauge the right length. The bow I have in mind for you…” He vanished into an adjoining room, and returned a few minutes later with a bow-shaped cloth package.

He placed it reverently on the counter and carefully removed the cloth.

“I’ve had this bow for a while, but never found the right customer. This is-“

“Hist!” I couldn’t believe my eyes.

For those that may be wondering why I was so surprised, Hist trees can’t be harvested like other plants. First; they wouldn’t allow it. Second; local Argonians wouldn’t allow it. Third; they’re incredibly tough.

Sometimes though, on rare occasions, every so often, a Hist would gift some wood. They might ask someone to take some, or drop a branch onto the ground for someone to take. This was the only way to acquire proper Hist wood. Even then, it takes a master craftsman to make something out of it. Of all the places to find some…

“Exactly. It was given to me years ago. Here, try it.” He handed me the bow like it was a newborn baby.

The dark wood felt almost warm to the touch, and the weight was perfect. It was just heavy enough, and fit my hand as if it had been made specifically for me. It even smelled like Hist. An indescribable scent that made me feel calm and comfortable. The wood must have been treated with Hist sap and was flexible, but strong.

Daenlin began to explain that the innate magic of The Hist kept the wood in shape, (meaning that I wouldn’t have to faff about with stringing and restringing all the time) when it suddenly dawned on me that such a magnificently perfect bow would most likely cost the same as a small house. I had just enough gold for a decent quality hunting bow, but it would take me years to afford this.

The old Bosmer seemed to read my mind:

“It would be quite pricey in any other shop. To be honest though I make enough money to keep me going, and it would be an insult to the bow to put it back in the other room to gather dust. I’ll give it to you in exchange for this broken one you brought in.” He held out his hand to finalize the deal.

A Histwood bow in return for a broken pile of junk? I’d made my decision.

“Sorry Daenlin, but I can’t do that. I can’t take something so valuable from you without paying for it properly.”

The Wood Elf let out a laugh:

“My dear boy, you are definitely the right man for this weapon. Very well, as payment for this bow I will take your broken one now, and the next time you’re in Bravil you will clear out the ruin of Anutwyll and visit me again for a cup of tea and a chat.” He held out his hand again, and this time I shook it.

“Deal.”

Posted by: ghastley Jun 6 2015, 04:59 PM

I suspect that will be a more interesting chat than Haa-Rei currently imagines. The tea will probably be exactly as expected.

Posted by: Grits Jun 10 2015, 12:36 AM

Ooo, what a marvelous bow for Haa-Rei! Great scene with Daenlin. He’s one of my favorites.

Posted by: Acadian Jun 11 2015, 01:40 AM

I love that the freezing rain slowed the chilled Argonian down. He should only adventure in sunny warm places.

How wonderful to see dear Daenlin again, and I love how you have captured him. After all, as the old elf said, a bow isn’t just a weapon, it’s a companion. And Daenlin matching Haa-Rei up with a Hist companion is brilliant!

Thank you, for you had me smiling all the way through this episode.

Oh, your opening synopsis was perfect and very helpful.


Hmm, some minor editing nits:
’The latter was open and sleeveless as if to show of his surprisingly muscular arms and chest.’ - - I think you want show off vs show of.
“ah don't worry, my boy. Here.” - - You probably want to capitalize the first word of this paragraph.
“Ah. Thankyou.” - - Oops, thank you is two words of course.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 12 2015, 04:22 PM

ghastley - I think you might be right, on both counts. We'll have to wait and see.

Grits - Glad you liked it! I always go to him for anything bow related.

Acadian - Chilly weather is quite nice when you're inside with a cup of tea, but having to battle through it on an early morning is the toughest part of any adventure.

So glad you enjoyed it, and that I did Daenlin justice. Those Bosmer sure know a thing or two about bows





Previously
Haa Rei had an early start, visiting Daenlin the Bosmer bowyer. To the Argonian's surprise and delight he was given a bow made from Hist wood, in return for clearing out a nearby ruin when he's next in town.

Chapter 11

The rain had almost cleared up by the time I left Daenlin’s. The freezing downpour was just a slight drizzle as I made my way back towards Silverhome.

The rest of my companions were emerging from the inn as I arrived. Inns seemed to agree with Sjöfn and Olorin, the two looked cheerful and well rested as they greeted me.

Jötnar looked only slightly worse for wear, and in the subsequent conversation I learned that he’d spent the evening with one of the musicians at the inn. A gentleman whose name he ‘didn’t quite catch’.

“There’s nothing like a strong drink and a good bedding after a day’s travelling. Isn’t that right?” The question was aimed at me.

“If you say so.” Truthfully I would prefer a cup of tea and a good book, but the Nord had already begun telling me the (rather lengthy) tale of his sexual exploits.

“Please don’t ruin such a pleasant morning with those stories, I’ve just eaten breakfast.” Sjöfn reached up and cuffed her brother over the head. She turned to me, “Did you find a bowyer?”

I took the opportunity to show off my new bow, though it was difficult to explain the significance of Hist wood to them.

“So the Hist are like your gods, right?” Jötnar asked.

“Well, kind of…but not in the way that you think of your gods. They created us, and look after us, and we revere them, but they’re physical beings and we don’t worship them in the same way that you might worship Akatosh or something.” Great explanation Haa Rei, you could be a shaman.

“I see.” His facial expression suggested that he did not see at all.

Not to be deterred, I tried again:

“We don’t have temples or priests or prayers. If we want to communicate with the Hist then we can just go and talk to one - They grow all over Black Marsh.” Jötnar’s face hadn’t changed, and I probably sounded like I’d been punched in the face by Sheogorath. As I said, it’s hard to explain.

We set off a few minutes later, after Olorin had told us the plan for the day. We were still heading south, and would have to spend the night outside. I was to scout ahead again, looking for a good place to camp.

The road from Bravil was quiet. I encountered some fisherman near the city, but everything was otherwise deserted. The rain had made the ground soft underfoot, and all the smells of nature were amplified. A gentle breeze brought with it the scent of nightshade flowers, which grew in abundance this far south.

I stopped for lunch under the high noon sun at the urging of my grumbling stomach and found a large rock, overlooking an inlet from the Lower Niben. The sun had dried everything off so this would make a perfect picnic spot.

Sjöfn had packed our lunches with traditional Bravil trail foods. Dried, smoked salmon cakes with some sort of berry mixed in, and some tough strips of smoked venison. After I’d devoured everything I took a long drink from my water skin, wishing it were tea.

I remained on the rock for a while longer, watching various creatures go about their business. Birds flitted through the trees, plucking insects from the air with pinpoint accuracy. A mudcrab was sitting on the shore, enjoying the sun, but darted back into the water at the approach of a Spriggan.

The forest creature was barely visible amongst the trees and undergrowth. Moving without a sound, I hadn’t noticed her until now. Her skin resembled the bark of the nearby Alder trees, with a few leaves growing from her head and shoulders, and a nightshade flower blooming from her knee. Her eyes were the colour of tree sap. We regarded each other silently for a few moments before she carried on with her woodland patrol, thankfully deciding that I wasn’t a threat to her part of the forest.

I too resumed my journey, and after only a few minutes I passed into Blackwood. The feeling was instantaneous. It felt familiar, as if I was coming home. It felt like…Hist. Argonians born in Black Marsh can always feel the Hist. Not too noticeably, but they’re always there in the back of your mind. It’s a comforting feeling, but a feeling that diminishes as you get further away from The Marsh.

“Why can I feel it so strongly now? And why does it feel…wrong?” I asked the question to nobody in particular, but I’d reflexively readied my bow.

The warm wood made me relax a little, but there was still something off about this feeling. It made my scales itch. I shouldered my bow and carried on heading south, trying to think of pleasant things.

It was getting dark by the time I found a good camping spot to the North of Water’s Edge. An old wayshrine to Stendarr lay just off the road, concealed by a large tree.

I called a spell into mind and raised my hand. The Flame Atronach made a singing noise as she appeared. Floating several inches off the ground, she danced through the air like a fish through water.

“Master?” Her singsong voice was warm like a campfire on a cold night.

“Hello Eithne. I have three companions on the road behind me, could you go and tell them where I am, please.” It was getting dark faster than I’d like, so a note in the road might go unnoticed.

“Of course.” She swam through the air back towards the road, singing to herself in a language I couldn’t understand.

While I waited for the others I set about finding firewood and food. When they arrived the Mudcrab and marsh rice stew was bubbling away nicely in its shell. The original Argonian recipe also includes several other plants, but I wasn't sure which were safe for the others to eat. Better not risk killing everyone just for a tastier stew.

I thanked Eithne and dispelled her.

“How many of those things have you got anyway?” Jötnar waved his hand through the air where the Flame Atronach had been.

“Just the two. Eithne isn’t fond of fighting but she’s a good messenger. You’ve already met Thiazzi.”

“You have quite the talent for Conjuration. People usually start with Scamps and Skeletons. Where did you study?” Olorin always seemed interested in magic, and I had no doubt he was quite good at it…or at least a great deal better than me.

“Nowhere. I’ve read a lot, and sort of taught myself. I summoned Thiazzi almost by accident a few years ago, and worked from there to figure out how to summon Eithne. I can’t work out how to do much else though.” I wasn’t even sure how I did what I did now.

“Well in that case I have somewhere I’d like to visit with you in Leyawiin.” He didn’t say more, instead he took a seat on a nearby stone as Jötnar dished out the food.

After our meal, everyone else went to sleep almost immediately. I’d volunteered for sentry duty, and was to wake Jötnar in a few hours to switch out. That uncomfortable feeling from before was still there. I wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Posted by: ghastley Jun 12 2015, 04:56 PM

“Why can I feel it so strongly now? And why doesn’t it feel…wrong?” did you mean "why does it feel wrong?" or did you change your mind about the last word? I could see "familiar" fitting there, but you'd used that before.

I like the idea that Haa-Rei has a choice of two Flame Atronachs to summon. It's good to be able to add something to a story that the game doesn't have.

And mudcrab and marsh rice stew! There's no powdered deer parts in that recipe are there?

Posted by: Acadian Jun 12 2015, 06:25 PM

“I see.” His facial expression suggested that he did not see at all.’ - -

I like how much Haa-Rei notices life in the forest. Another traveler would probably have never seen the spriggan – until the living tree attacked for some perceived threat to her forest.

I love Eithne! It is so neat that Haa-Rei knows her and stormy Thiazzi as well! I’d imagine Eithne is excellent for shedding some light or starting a campfire. Perhaps even warming tea?

Haa-Rei's tale and his engaging manner of telling it makes this a joy to read. Well done!


Nit:
“So the Hist are like you’re gods, right?” Jötnar asked.
“Well, kind of…but not in the way that you think of your gods.”
- - You want the possessive (your instead of you're) in the first sentence - just like you correctly did in the second sentence.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 20 2015, 08:49 PM

ghastley - Glad you liked it. Oh and deer parts are completely optional with this particular recipe, powdered or otherwise.

Acadian - Whenever we meet a Spriggan Haa-Rei always prefers to skirt around her rather than risk her (and her summoned bear's) wrath. Also glad you liked Eithne. Now someone needs to discover a tea atronach and we're all set!




Previously
Our group set off from Bravil, heading south towards Leyawiin. Haa-Rei enjoyed a quiet day, at home in the forests of southern Cyrodiil. As he moved further south however a growing sense of uneasiness crept over him. Setting up camp near a wayshrine to the divines, the adventurers prepare to get a good night's sleep.

Chapter 12

I awoke, or rather ‘stopped trying to fall asleep’, just before dawn. The sun’s first rays were creeping over the horizon as the forest around us began to wake up.

I could make out Jötnar’s large silhouette a few metres away, standing on watch duty. The others were still sleeping and I decided to leave them to it, adding some more wood to the fire and grabbing some water flasks before I went.

Jötnar greeted me as I left the camp, handing me his water flask as he did so. I was on water collection duty this morning.

The Niben River was just over the road from our camp. The waters were still this morning, like deep blue glass. I filled the water flasks and set them down on a nearby rock, before finding a comfortable spot for myself. Water always helped me think (which is probably why I ended up becoming an adventurer in the arid wastes of Morrowind).

The uneasy feeling which had crept up on me yesterday was still hanging over me. It felt like a swarm of fleshflies were buzzing around in the back of my mind, just barely noticeable amongst my thoughts. I cast my poor excuse for a healing spell, but still the feeling persisted. The only thing more annoying than the feeling itself was the fact that I couldn’t explain it.

I remained at the water’s edge until I could feel the warm sun on my scales, and heard the faint sounds of conversation behind me as the rest of my party woke up.

Sjöfn was preparing breakfast when I returned, observed by her brother who had clearly decided he’d done enough sentry duty for one night. If ever you’re asked how many Nords it takes to cook a breakfast, the answer is apparently ‘two’. Olorin was doing some morning stretches nearer the wayshrine, illuminated by the early morning sun.

After a simple yet hearty breakfast of porridge and apples, we packed up camp and set off. Jötnar had expressed a desire to take point, leaving me with Olorin. After getting very little sleep and with the odd feeling hanging over me I was all too happy to have a leisurely stroll on the final leg of the journey to Leyawiin.

It was during this journey that I learned just how talkative mages can be. The aging Altmer was all too happy to tell me about his area of study – The Ayleids. It was more interesting than it sounds, but not by much. I was quite relieved when he finally changed the subject.

“I believe you mentioned that you’d recently adventured in Morrowind, yes?”

“That’s right. I spent the last couple of years there.” We walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

“I’ve never been, you see. Always wanted to visit but never quite found the time. I hear there are some exquisite Dwemer ruins.” The Dwemer? Now this is a topic I can get interested in.

“Oh yes. I’ve explored quite a few actually. They’re really interesting places, and the Dwemer are something of an interest to me too.” I rested my hand on the pommel of my Dwarven sword, the cool golden metal was smooth to the touch.

“A scholar, eh? Good lad. Always nice to have an interest that you can talk about. You should visit Skyrim sometime if you’re looking for more dwarven sites. They have entire cities preserved in the snow up there. That’s where I met our companions too. A charming people, the Nords. As I’m sure you’ve noticed.” I was unsure how to respond to the last part, but I was amazed at how quickly and seamlessly Olorin could switch the topic of conversation, and continued to listen as he told me of his experiences with Nords.

He’d met Jötnar near the Skyrim border, and stayed with their family for several weeks as he studied some nearby ruins. When it was time to move on the two young Nords had offered to accompany him. While I was in Morrowind, they were exploring Skyrim. After receiving word of some Ayleid relics in Cyrodiil they’d come down south, just two days before I too arrived in the capital.

Up until now I’d assumed they’d known each other for much longer, with the way they all worked together in every aspect of adventures. Back in the bandit fort, Olorin had known exactly who could do what and trusted them completely. I’d always adventured alone and this would take some getting used to. Unaware of my thoughts, my companion continued;

“An old acquaintance of mine has found a lead on some interesting relics, you see, and has offered to purchase them from whoever finds them first. I couldn’t miss the opportunity, and our Nord companions asked to accompany me.” The tone of his voice suggested that his lengthy tale had come to an end.

“Ah, so that’s why we’re going to Atatar. What exactly are these relics?” I knew very little about Ayleids, but any valuable relic that has remained untouched in a ruin for so long has only done so by being either difficult to find, or dangerous to touch. The former I could work with, the latter was something I’d like to avoid.

“Well I’m not completely sure, but we’ll know it when we see it. Very exciting.” The sense of adventure was warming to behold, and he almost looked younger for a moment. Unfortunately such a sense of adventure often leads to people dying in an ancient crypt somewhere for adventurers like me to trip over several years later. I decided then that I’d do what I could to help the old man out. Even if the whole relic business sounded incredibly dangerous.

We stopped for lunch at around midday, and Sjöfn caught up with us soon after. The three of us eventually carried on down the road, listening to more of the Altmer’s stories, until Leyawiin appeared in the distance.

The colourful houses were still visible in the fading light, and the castle towered above them all like a silent guardian. The feeling of uneasiness was still there, but the feeling of returning home after so long filled me from scales to tail with happiness. I wanted to jump for joy, but settled for a sensible smile instead.

As we entered the city I was suddenly struck by how busy it was. There were much more people than usual, and more to the point they were all Argonians. Many had set up makeshift camps just outside the city gates, and I assumed many more had booked rooms at the inns. The Chapel of Zenithar was likewise bursting with travellers, no doubt taking advantage of the sanctuary it offered.

“Well we’d best find my brother, and then find somewhere to sleep. I didn’t realise it’d be this busy.” Sjofn was scanning the crowd, but at her height I doubted she could see much of anything.

“It’s usually quite quiet. I’ll show you where the inn is. Jötnar’s probably already there” I set off around the crowd, rather than trying to go through it. The Five Claws Lodge was cheap, and I guessed it would be the busiest, so we headed for the Three Sisters Inn, arriving several minutes later feeling considerably more exhausted than we did upon entering the city.

“I have to go and see someone first, so I’ll find you inside later. Talk to Shamada, she’s the friendliest of the sisters.” I realised how odd that sounded, but I was anxious to leave. The others seemed to understand and thanked me before heading inside.

After they’d gone I headed off, around the corner, to my destination. The house was small, only one floor, and wasn’t brightly painted like many other buildings in the city, but to me it was the most beautiful.

I took a deep breath to calm myself and pushed the rickety wooden door. The smell of tea leaves greeted me as soon as I entered. A small pot was boiling over the open fire, a familiar figure stood before it, stirring intently. I cleared my throat loudly.

“Haa-Rei?”

Posted by: Acadian Jun 21 2015, 12:03 AM

A lovely journey the final leg down to Leyawiin. We learn a bit more of Olirin’s quest. I wonder if he is searching for the Ayleid statues for that collector up in the Imperial City.

’The feeling of uneasiness was still there, but the feeling of returning home after so long filled me from scales to tail with happiness.’ - -

Wow, is there an Argonian convention ongoing in Cyrodiil’s most southern city?

Then, it seems, Haa-Rei has either friend or family in Leyawiin share tea with.

Posted by: hazmick Jul 10 2015, 06:25 PM

Acadian - As always, you've hit the nail on the head




Previously
The group moved ever closer to Leyawiin, and after spending the day chatting with Olorin, Haa-Rei finally arrived home. A familiar figure awaited him...

Chapter 13

It had been two years since I’d last seen Deeh. The old Argonian hadn’t changed at all. His scales were primarily brown, with a bright band of orange around his head like a crown. This was topped by short spines, not unlike my own. His eyes were a deep orange colour like pools of tree sap.

He was wearing dark green breeches, leaving his feet and upper body bare. A blaze of orange scales spread over his torso. His arms and chest were slightly muscular from a life of manual labour, and patches of his scales were slowly turning translucent as a sign of his age.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, hatchling.” He smiled widely, a lifetime of living among humans made facial expressions come easier to him.

I was unsure what to say. Deeh had looked after me since I first arrived in Cyrodiil around 10 years ago. He was like a father to me, but emotional displays weren’t something I was comfortable with. After a few moments I settled with a simple “Hello Deeh.”

“That’s it? You’re gone for two years, adventuring in Morrowind, and all I get is a ‘hello’?” He paused for a second, a serious expression on his face, before his smile returned and he burst into laughter. Motioning for me to sit down. Scalawag indeed.

It wasn’t long before we were chatting away again, as if I’d never left. Deeh made some tea and listened intently to the tales of my visit to Black Marsh, my time in Morrowind, of my work with the Legion, and of the reason for my return. Finally, I briefly summed up the past few days.

“Well well well. Agent, eh?” Deeh scratched his chin with a clawed hand “Do I have to salute when I see you?” He stood and performed an impressive salutation, before turning to me with a wink. I couldn’t help but laugh, and nearly choked on my tea as a result.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I paused and looked around “Where’s Amusei?” Deeh had looked after the two of us as if we were brothers, and Amusei had developed a keen knack for getting into trouble.

“Heading to the Imperial City to join the Thieves Guild. I tried to talk him out of it but he’s a stubborn one.” If Deeh was worried, he didn’t show it.

“Well he certainly has the skills for it.” I remembered how Amusei could always sneak up on me, which was no small feat. Deeh had taught us both well, “I’ll try and catch up with him when I go back in a few days.” In truth I wasn’t surprised about his career choice, but knowing him he was bound to do something stupid.

“Just be careful on your adventures, hatchling. There’s something bad coming, mark my words. I’m sure you’ve noticed all the Saxhleel mooching about town.” He waved his hand towards the door, indicating ‘the town’.

“I was going to ask about that. What’s going on?” I poured myself more tea. A delicious blend of Nightshade flowers and tea leaves, with goat's milk to take the bitter edge off.

“Nobody is too sure,” He said with a shrug “but Saxhleel are being called back to The Marsh from all over the Empire.”

He emphasised the word ‘Saxhleel’, the term for Argonians like me born in Black Marsh. Deeh was known as a ‘Lukiul’, or ‘assimilated’, which referred to those who had been born, or spent time living, far from the Hist and had become more disconnected.

“You think it’s the Hist? I only just did the trials, surely I’d be able to feel it too.” The Trials of the Hist was an ancient ceremony, which strengthened the connection to the Ancient trees. I’d communicated with them directly, and it was they who told me to go to Morrowind, and again to come to Cyrodiil. I wasn’t sure how to feel about not being invited to this particular party.

Deeh shrugged again. “Maybe they have something better for you to do? At any rate, there’s something going on and it can’t be good.”

I made a mental note to include this in my next Blades report. Black Marsh might not be completely under Imperial control but it was still significant.

I finished my tea, and returned to my companions at the inn for a quick chat. Jotnar had found them and was eagerly tucking into a pie of some sort, while the others were sharing a bottle of wine and a selection of cheeses. The contrast between the two Nord siblings made me chuckle.

Tomorrow would be spent in town making some last minute supply purchases. Olorin wanted to meet me outside the Mages Guild bright and early.

I returned to Deeh’s house, and after more tea and chatting I retired for the evening.

My room was more or less how I left it. Books piled high on shelves along all of the walls, an oak desk stained with ink and covered in parchment, an empty armor stand, and a large armchair in the corner. It was a small room though, and all that furniture left very little floor space. Less floor I have to sweep.

A large box was the only recent addition. It sat on my bed, and was about the same size as a Bosmer’s bathtub. I recognised it as a package I’d sent from Morrowind several months earlier. Stamps of Imperial postage covered the surface, detailing its journey from city to city.

I opened it carefully. The box contained several books (Almost all of which were about the Dwemer) as well as some carefully wrapped Dwemer artifacts which I’d needed a special licence to transport - the core of a centurion, several pieces of metal, and a sturdy metal cup. (The latter would be accompanying me on adventures. The metal would be brilliant at keeping tea hot without burning my hands.)

Lastly, at the bottom of the box, was my Imperial Legion scout armor. The brown leather lay upon a long undershirt of red fabric, and it had all been reinforced by extra layers of light material. I hung it on the armor stand, and chose to equip the bracers. They were made of the same light but strong leather, but featured no fancy adornments, and no dragon motifs. My arms were protected whilst my hands remained free to move, which would make shooting easier than in a full gauntlet.

Exhausted after a long day, I crawled onto my bed. I’d never been more comfortable, and was looking forward to the rest of our adventure. The uneasiness in my mind was still there, but had been suppressed by tea and good company.

Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 10 2015, 09:38 PM

What a wonderful introduction of Deeh! Concise and efficient, but generously laced with fabulous touches that only an Argonian could tell us about – like comparing eyes to pools of hist sap and revealing that translucent scales are a sign of an aging Argonian. And Deeh clearly knows how to make tea!

Hmm, some mystery afoot with the Saxheels for sure.

’...about the same size as a Bosmer’s bathtub.’ - - Small indeed!

Posted by: ghastley Jul 14 2015, 07:20 PM

A couple of things caught my eye in this one paragraph.

I just love the idea that Dwemer stuff needs a licence to export. Should I assume this will factor into the story again later?

I'm confused how a metal cup doesn't burn the hands. Does it have an insulated handle you didn't mention?

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Jul 15 2015, 03:25 PM

I've read the first few chapters. As I'm using a phone I can't comment much right now but I very much like Haa-Rei. This is a fresh story full of humor and wit, and the character is a fantastic character. I will give my full review and feedback as soon as I can! Great work Hamzick!

Posted by: hazmick Jul 17 2015, 05:43 PM

Acadian - There's always something mysterious going on with Argonians. They're an odd bunch.

ghastley - The Dwemer license idea comes from the fact that selling Dwemer stuff is supposedly illegal, yet plenty of people seem to have Dwemer relics. As for the cup, it's just one of those mysteries that may never be solved...

DE - Welcome to the story, I'm glad you're enjoying it! Looking forward to hearing more of your thoughts.






Previously
Haa-Rei was reunited with Deeh, the old Argonian who had raised him for several years, and we learnt some more about the goings on in Leyawiin. Our adventurers are to have a day off tomorrow, and Olorin wishes to meet with Haa-Rei at the local mages guild...

Chapter 14


I’ve always disliked early mornings, and that day was no different. After a cup of tea and several torturous minutes of walking, I arrived at the Leyawiin guildhall. It was one of the larger buildings in the city, painted bright yellow and featuring a fancy stained glass window above the door. In any other city it would look rather odd, but it fit right in nestled among the other brightly coloured buildings.

The inside was similarly decorated, with rich carpets and polished wooden bookshelves and benches – the latter were occupied by mages of various races engaged in what I can only assume was intellectual conversation about spherical conjunction or transplanar liminality. In the centre of it all stood Olorin, chatting with an even older (as if it were possible) Bosmer woman. I wasn't sure if it was the carpets or the mages, but everything had a very distinct musty smell. Would it kill them to open a window?

“Ah, Haa-Rei. Good morning. May I introduce the head of this branch of the mages guild, Dagail.”

Dagail was indeed very old, and was dressed in the finest robe I’d ever seen. A thick burgundy affair, with swirling gold and red patterns. Her grey hair was fashioned into a large point, like a mountain. She was exactly how you’d picture the head of a mages circle. The only problem was that she didn’t appear to be…all there. She was staring off into the distance and my cheery “good morning” was completely wasted on her. Olorin simply chuckled as if this was normal and ushered me into an adjoining room, leaving Dagail to her thoughts.

“Is she ok?”

“Yes…well, no. That’s part of what I wanted to talk about.” Olorin reached into the depths of his tattered grey robe and handed me a roll of parchment.

“Mages Guild recommendation? For me?”

“I’ve seen your conjuration abilities, and with a little nudge from the guild you could become a master in no time. What do you think?”

Me? A mages guild member? I suppose stranger things have happened, and it would be a good opportunity. I’d never considered myself a mage though, and didn’t relish the idea of studying or wearing one of those hideous robes. I’d have to think about it.

Olorin didn’t seem surprised, and actually looked happy enough that I didn’t flat out refuse him. “Of course, of course. In the meantime though, have a word with Dagail. She could use the help of an adventurer such as yourself.” And with that, he hobbled off into the crowded hall, leaving me with no choice but to talk to the distant Dagail.

“You want wisdom? No, you want words,” Said Dagail as I approached. “Words are…difficult. They come and go. The voices, though. So loud they are, they drown out the words…”

Oh by the Hist this is going to be a long conversation.

“…Without my amulet, my stone to lock the voices away, the words will never come and stay.” Before I could reply, her eyes glazed over and she stared back into nothingness once more. I’d need some help with this one.

Help came in the form of Agata, a middle aged Nord mage who’d overheard my conversation. Apparently Dagail was some sort of seer, and had visions which had recently taken a turn for the worst on account of a lost amulet. All I needed to do was find the amulet. I returned to Dagail to see if she could shed some light on this.

Amidst the jumble of random words and nonsense she repeated the same phrase several times, “blood ran blue”, and the word “fort”. Growing up in Leyawiin, I knew the area very well – the amulet must be at Fort Blueblood, to the south east.

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The fort was nothing special, and on the surface it was actually little more than a heap of rubble, watched over by a lone marauder who fell with one of my arrows in his chest. Fur armor was no match for my new bow.

The inside of the fort was no better, with hallways full of dust and rubble. In my short time as an adventurer I was yet to encounter a group of bandits that cleaned up after themselves.

Making my way through the corridors, I quietly dispatched several more marauders. My legion training came in handy with those wearing heavy armor, and my Hist wood companion made short work of any weak spot I could find. Thankfully they were poorly equipped, and none too observant.

Finally I reached an area that looked important enough to conceal a magic amulet. The heavy oak doors groaned in protest as I opened them, and two imps waited to great me with shock magic. I darted behind an old pillar and summoned Thiazzi to help out. The imp’s spells were absorbed by the thundering bulk of the atronach, who responded with spells of his own. Several exchanges later left the imps dead, reduced to smoking heaps on the cold stone floor. After making sure the coast was clear I dismissed Thiazzi and searched for the amulet, finding it in an otherwise empty coffin. The absence of any large and conspicuous chests made this the only alternative. Footsteps announced the arrival of a potential threat, and I readied my bow as I turned toward the doorway. It was a mage.

“I-I’ll take that. The amulet.” He was dressed in the blue robes of the mages guild, and judging from the mud-stained hem he had followed me from Leyawiin. He seemed so out of place that I almost laughed, but the look in his eyes and the slight scent of decay stopped any such thoughts.

“You’re from the guild? What are you doing here?” I actually had a pretty good idea why he was here, and his plan probably included my corpse joining those of the imps.

“I knew you were looking for the amulet. I knew you’d find it, and I had to stop you. Hand it over.” His face resembled that of a particularly large and ugly baby, but for the thick black eyebrows which seemed to cast a shadow over his eyes.

“Why do you want the amulet?” I asked, setting my bow down on the coffin behind me.

“I took the other one, and that should’ve been enough to get rid of her! I was going to give it back to her once I’d gotten what I’d wanted. That’s not so wrong, is it?” Ah, so he’s not on team Dagail and thinks a change of leadership is in order. “Why? Why did you have to ruin everything!?” He gestured towards me and cast a spell.

A fork of lightning hit me square in the chest, sending me flying against the wall and the amulet spinning across the room. The mage rose his hand, summoning a zombie, and began scrabbling through the rubble for his prize. I attempted to summon a creature of my own, but my magicka had yet to recharge. I was on my own.

Drawing my sword, I met the zombie head on. Smoke rose from my burned armor, causing my eyes to water but the creature's lazy arms were still easy to avoid, and I stepped to the side before bringing my dwarven blade down to (literally) disarm it, before bringing the blade back up to behead it. A puff of foul smelling smoke signaled its departure. The final groan of his summoned ally got the attention of the mage, and he turned just in time to see my sword arching through the air towards him.

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Olorin was waiting when I returned to the guildhall.

“Everything went well, I assume?” He smiled.

I looked down at my chest. The lightning had left a large scorch mark, but I was otherwise unharmed. I handed him the amulet with a nod.

“Olorin. I want to join the guild.” This was going to be an interesting experience.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 17 2015, 09:17 PM

I noticed you identified Dagail as an Altmer. In game, she is Bosmer (Buffy’s an expert on such matters). It’s your story of course so changing things is fine if it suits your purpose; I only
point it out in case the change was unintentional.

Speaking of Dagail, you captured her ‘not all thereness’ perfectly.

So, it’s off to Fort Blueblood then, is it?

Haa-Rei does an elegant job of clearing the fort and finding that missing amulet.

Uh oh. . . a disgruntled guild mage. . . . A tough fight, especially while still low on magic from his previous fight, but nice to see that Haa-Rei handily prevailed despite some scorching. I quite like Dagail and it’s always nice to see Kalthar get his comeuppance.

Haa-Rei a guild mage? This is going to be an interesting experience indeed!

As ever, nicely done, hazmick.

Posted by: Grits Jul 19 2015, 10:20 PM

That was a delightful woodland encounter with the spriggan. Haa Rei’s flame atronach friend Eithne is charming.

I loved the description of Haa Rei’s room at Deeh’s house. Ooo, a Mages Guild quest! That situation of being out of magicka in that tomb is a familiar one and always makes my stomach churn. Neatly handled by Haa Rei!

Posted by: Destri Melarg Jul 24 2015, 07:26 PM

‘An Argonian’s Account’

I was really excited to read this because I love the varied ways our fellow Chorrolites handle the non-human characters... and argonians seem to receive the least amount of love. I admit to being a little worried early on because Haa-Rei sounded a bit too ‘human’ for my own personal taste, but little things like the observation of how much emotion he has to show when humans are about were extremely effective in dispelling those concerns.

Acadian hit the nail on the head when he complimented you on you handling of the Imperial City. ‘Full to the brim’ would be a cringe-worthy cliche at any other time but Haa-Rei’s well-established love of tea enables him to pull it off. The approach of your three adventurers briefly reminded me of the opening pages of The Hobbit. Haa-Rei’s handling of the ‘initiation’ is a fantastic way to show us that this character uses his wits more than his ‘scrawny’ muscles in a fight. It also gives us some insight into Jotnar given that he made no move to engage the storm atronach that suddenly appeared in front of him. I find myself loving Haa-Rei already!

The clearing of the fort kept me on the edge of my seat. I also thought it strange that Olorin didn’t try to contribute more than detect spells and being a decoy. Something tells me that you’re establishing something with his character that I’ll see come to fruition somewhere down the road... and now I’m so invested that I just have to know what that is.

I enjoyed the stop at the Faregyl, but I have to admit that I can’t see Abhuki, S’Jirra and Alix (the man, not the mouse) without thinking of mALX’s characterizations of them. It’s interesting to me how Alix seems to come across as so benign... considering his status as a master of the sword. I don’t think I’ve ever actually done the potato thief quest. I’m eager to see how it turns out.

Okay I’m back, and now I have to resort to lecturing:

“You are hereby and forthwith prohibited from ever denigrating your own writing again. Get it? Got it? Good!”

Your ability to write romance is extremely effective without being flowery or heavy-handed. Your deft touch even elicited a momentary lapse into ‘hopeless romanticism’ from Acadian. That is the very definition of good writing! The one place where it seemed a bit forced was their conversation on the bridge in Bravil, but you even redeemed that with the wonderful payoff of the parchment left on the berry bush.

I am hesitant to point out spots where the use of language can be improved because I know that we are getting the story through the filter of Haa-Rei’s head, and his way of dispensing words may not always be optimal. That said there is one spot where I would give advice simply because it will probably come up again somewhere along the line:


You don’t need the ‘on me’ if you’re going to end the sentence with ‘over me.’ Conversely, you don’t need the ‘over me’ if you want to keep the ‘on me.’ Either way works to communicate the same idea.

Speaking of that uneasy feeling, I just love the subtle way you’ve mixed that in with the idea of all native argonians being recalled to Black Marsh. I find it interesting that Haa-Rei is irritated by the idea of not being included even as he finds himself back in Leyawiin with an uneasy feeling that he has already attributed to the Hist. Hmmm...

I also had a chuckle at the fact that he is so willing to share his status as a Blade with Deeh. Apparently Haa-Rei has no secrets from those he trusts!

I can certainly understand not wanting to dwell on some of the minor quests that Haa-Rei has to complete over the course of your story. But, compared to the wonderfully detailed encounter with the minotaur on the road, the clearing of Fort Blueblood seemed a bit rushed... particularly the final battle. It so far is the only ‘meh‘ in this otherwise fantastically engaging story that you are telling.

That’s all from me for now… but I will be back!

Posted by: hazmick Aug 8 2015, 04:56 PM

Acadian - Oh dear, I'm getting my mer mixed up! Please apologize to Buffy for me. I like Dagail too, and defeating Kalthar is always made easier by his terrible character design.

Grits - Glad you enjoyed the Spriggan encounter, and Eithne. Haa-Rei is very fond of elemental ladies. (Is Dunmer guard captain an element?)

Destri - Thank you for joining us! And thank you for your kind words. I always try and put little bits of 'Argonianess' into the story, but I also don't want it to be too Argonian...if that makes sense

Interesting that you mentioned The Hobbit too, as one of my characters is based off of (and named after) one of Tolkien's.

Again, you're correct in assuming that I have future plans for some characters. I know what I want to happen later on, but I'm not sure how or when we'll get there. Makes it all the more exciting.

I know what you mean about the Faregyl residents. I had to remind myself several times that they're not married, and don't have an adopted child causing mayhem somewhere in the world. I also like the idea that Alix the man could probably save the world with his super sword skills but instead prefers to put his feet up and eat bread all day.

Never hesitate to lecture. I can't improve if I don't know where I'm going wrong.

EVERYONE - Now for something completely different...


Chapter 15


Journal of Jötnar

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The old man says I should keep a journal while I’m down here. Something about ‘treasures of potential historical significance.’ I swear I only understand half of the words he uses most of the time. I have to practice my letters though, and I owe him that much. My writing never sounds good.

Anyway. We’re in Cyrodiil now. I got leave from the Legion so I can chase after whatever it is we’re here for. It’s too warm down south. Everyone drinks wine all day and sits around getting fat. Soldiers in the capital have good armor though.

We got a new member for our team. Seems like my idea for another rogue was worth listening to. He’s an Argonian. He’s green. So skinny a light breeze might knock him over. Shy as a maid on her wedding day, and he looks tense – his eyes are always moving but you can never see what he’s looking at. Nice sword though. Dwemer. Real Dwemer, not a modern forgery. Don’t get the real stuff from sitting around in a library – anyone who can get through a Dworfen Dwarfen Dwemer ruin is worth it. He can do magic too - damn near soiled my breeches when that storm atronach popped up. He had it under control though, sitting there casual as you like. Nice lad. Sjöfn likes him.

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Damn rain. It rains back home, sure, but this rain isn’t cool and refreshing. It’s still too warm. The lizard took point. Moves like a cat. Can’t wait to see him fight. Speaking of fights, I’m itching for one.

Found a bandit fort. Got a whole floor to myself. Almost managed to cut a guy in half with one swing. Need to get the angel angle right next time. Sjöfn was with me, but she just shoots stuff. The old man and Haa-Rei (that’s the lizard) took the other floor. Took down a big orc. Wish I could’ve seen it.

Found an inn. Sjöfn and the lizard are helping with some gardening or something. Ale is a bit watery but the people are nice. Khajiit. Talked to a guy about farm stuff. Looks like a sord swordsman, but I didn’t want to press him about details. Might start a farm when this is all over. Grow some crops, maybe some cows. I like sheep too. The really woolly ones are nice.

The kids are back. Got some potatoes. Killed an ogre apparently. Wish I’d seen it. We all got some bread as a reward. Khajiit are strange. Bread’s good though.

Got to Bravil. It’s damp, but would be easy to defend. Guards all have bows, swords probably aren’t much good anyway. People seem friendly enough. Found a dead minotaur on the way here. Looked like a good fight. The lizard is better than I thought. Found an inn. Ale is a bit watery here too. Going to speak to the bard minstrel.

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Haa-Rei got a new bow. Hist wood. Very nice. He tried to explain it all to me but it was confusing. I’ll ask again when I have time to write it down. Nice place we’re at though. Good for fishing.

Haa-Rei still manages to surprise us. Flame atronach floated up, bold as a bristleback, and led us to the campsite. Damn Daydra Deadra Daedra (Olorin says that’s right. Looks weird) creep me out. Olorin wants to see about Haa-Rei joining the Mages guild when we get to Leyawiin. Haa-Rei looks tense again. On edge. I’ll keep an eye on him.

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Got some time to myself today. The old man is with Haa-Rei, probably talking his gills off. I found some bandits. Still can’t get the angle right. My swing’s powerful enough so maybe it’s the sword. I’ll see if the guild has anything better. Leyawiin’s busy though. Never seen so many Argonians all in one place. I’ll ask Haa-Rei if he knows what’s going on. He has family here, I think. Nice town though. Colourful buildings, cobbled streets. Guards don’t look like they could fight off a skeever. Armor isn’t very good. Doubt they get as many supplies down here.

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Haa-Rei and the old man went to the Mages guild this morning. Sjöfn said she’s going to explore. Turns out I can’t join up with the Fighter’s Guild down here. Need to go to Anvil, Chorrol or Cheydinhal. Seems like they’d get more recruits if you could sign up anywhere, but rules are there for a reason I guess. Saw Haa-Rei before. Looks like he’s had a good fight. Maybe I should join the Mages guild too – looks like fun.

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Setting off for the ruin in the morning. I hope it’s got bandits in it. Shor’s beard please don’t let it be undead.

Posted by: Acadian Aug 8 2015, 08:20 PM

What an interesting peek into Jötnar’s thoughts as we get his summary of events to date and his take on the Lizard Rogue. Seems like Jötnar’s quest is to perfect his ‘cut a baddie cleanly in half’ technique – a worthy endeavor indeed. Unless of course you’re a mage. Or an archer.

As ever, a very enjoyable read!

Posted by: ghastley Aug 8 2015, 09:10 PM

Must be the shoes! < Michael Jordan voice >It's not the shoes </ Michael Jordan voice >

If he's noticed that Sjöfn likes Haa-Rei, then it must be true.

Posted by: hazmick Sep 26 2015, 01:56 AM

Acadian - I'm so glad you enjoyed Jötnar's Journal. I thought it might be a good way to recap as well as get another perspective on things. I'm thinking of doing it every dozen chapters or so, if I ever get that far.

ghastley - Hmmm maybe it is the shoes!


EVERYONE - Apologies for the gap between chapters. There's nothing to blame but my own lack of motivation. I'll try to be a bit more...regular in the future.


Previously - We had a read through Jötnar's journal which covered the events of the story so far. Now Haa-Rei and friends have arrived at the Ayleid ruin of Atatar, where their prize awaits...


Chapter 16


It had been raining for a while now, and the night air had cooled almost to the point of freezing. I was crouched low, behind a large boulder, overlooking the entrance to Atatar. I’d been sent ahead to ‘see what was what’ before the others arrived. Due to the rain, fog, and general darkness, I wasn’t entirely sure what was what or which was which, and I was incredibly uncomfortable. Such is the glamorous life of an adventurer.

Footsteps behind me heralded the arrival of my companions, looking as wet and bedraggled as I felt.

“What’s the situation?” asked Jötnar. He was wearing a cloak over his armour which made him look even bigger than usual and his long hair was soaked through, clinging to his broad face in several places. Sjöfn was barely visible under her large hood and cloak, but a rogue lock of unmistakable red hair gave her away.

“I don’t think there is a situation. If there are any guards up here they’re doing a very good job of hiding.” I stood up carefully and stretched my legs, wincing as the feeling came back to them, and glanced over at the ruin.

Even now, on this foggy night, the ruin was impressive. It wasn’t particularly large, just a broken tower and various debris scattered across a hillside, but the pale white stones caught even the tiniest bit of light and seemed to shine in the gloom. I wished there was a Hist nearby that could show me how the ruin looked a few thousand years ago.

Olorin cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present, and went over the plan again. I was to go in first, clearing any traps I could see and picking off any guards that I encountered. Jötnar would follow behind, as support in case I ran into any major trouble. Sjöfn and Olorin would bring up the rear. We were looking for some sort of stone, but Olorin wasn’t sure exactly what it looked like. Apparently we’d ‘know it when we see it’ which I thought was so vague as to be meaningless. The old Altmer looked rather excited though, so I kept quiet.

“Well lad, this is what we’re paying you for. I’ll be right behind you if you need help.” Jötnar grinned, hefting his impossibly large claymore over his shoulder with one hand and patting me on the back with the other.

With a final ‘good luck’ from Sjöfn and Olorin, I slowly made my way towards the ruin. It was just as deserted as it looked, but the ease with which the door opened meant that it was inhabited…or maybe the Ayleids were just really good at building doors. I hoped it was the latter.


The inside was the very definition of ‘eerie’. Completely silent, and lit only by the faint glow of magical stones. It meant that there were plenty of shadows for me to hide in, but you never know what will already be hiding there.

It wasn’t long at all before I found my first trap. A long corridor stretched out before me, the floor of which was sticky with blood. The source of this were several very large, and very dead, rats, which had large wounds on their backs. The culprit was no doubt the set of large blades which were swinging back and forth down the length of the hall. It was amazing that the mechanism still worked after all this time, and I couldn’t suppress the feeling that these rats were but the most recent in a very long line of victims.

“I bet the blood is murder to clean up in here.” I mumbled to myself, scanning around for a device to stop the blades. With no solution forthcoming, I decided to forge ahead. Very, very carefully.

The blades weren’t fast, but there wasn’t much room between them, and I could feel them whooshing through the air, too close for comfort. Once on the other side of the corridor, after letting out a shaky breath, I found a switch which finally halted the relentless swinging. I’d passed the first test.
The second test was right ahead.

The hallway diverged into three separate paths. On either side it led to some stairs, which seemed to go down into a large room. The middle path went to a small balcony which I assumed would overlook the aforementioned chamber. A lone archer stood on the balcony, facing away from me. We were separated by an iron door, with a sun motif which I was peeking through.

I had no doubt that I could take him out, but if anyone was watching him, or if he fell into the chamber, I’d be in trouble. If I ignored him and went into the chamber then he’d spot me straight away.

Seeing no other option, I eased open the ornate door and carefully moved forward. I stopped about halfway along the balcony as I could now see into the chamber. It was large and open, with two carved pillars supporting the high ceiling. There were no side passages for people to hide in, and the passage ahead looked clear.

The archer on the balcony fell with one of my arrows between his shoulder blades. His body slumped against the low stone wall but fortunately stayed on this side. I quickly moved forward to pull him back, just to be safe. Now I could see further into the opposite passage I could make out the shape of another sentry in the gloom of the tunnel. My arrow found its mark and he also went down without a fuss. This was going well.

I climbed into the chamber and continued on, down more passageways, until I reached the second level of the ruin. The room was dotted with pillars, and atop each pillar sat large cages which sort of resembled metal onions. One cage was raised and I could see a shining stone underneath. Is this it? It would help if Olorin had been a bit more precise.

I ignored the shiny thing for now and moved forward again, but had to stop almost immediately when I heard a noise. Two of the ruin’s resident bandits were engaged in a conversation about goblins, and how horrible they were. I waited for them to finish and go their separate ways before moving again.

One bandit moved further into the ruin, while the other was heading more-or-less in my direction. I moved to the side to get a better angle. Her heavy armour would be tricky to deal with. Thankfully her neck was…less well protected, and she went down – albeit with an alarmingly loud crash as iron met stone.

“Hey, Sera, you alright?” A woman’s voice drifted across the room. Her friend hadn’t gone as far away as I’d thought. I heard her footsteps approaching quickly and turned, bow drawn, to meet her.

Posted by: Acadian Sep 26 2015, 01:02 PM

I like Haa-Rei’s observations like wishing for a Hist so he could see the ruin in its glory days. Or his realization that the door opening easily meant it was likely occupied.

Ahhh. . . skulking through a dark and spooky dungeon with a bow and hefty dose of fear. Buffy knows that feeling well. Well enough to realize that this kind of success -

- generally foretells that the troll dung is about to hit the fan blade trap.


Hopefully, his arrows can take down this other bandit before . . . hey, where’s Jotnar when you need him?

Posted by: hazmick Oct 9 2015, 05:15 PM

Acadian - Yep. "This is going well" is right up there with "It can't get any worse" and "It'll be fine" on the list of things adventurers should never say.


Previously - Our Argonian friend made good progress through the Ayleid ruin of Atatar, but things don't always go as planned...

Chapter 17

I fired as soon as the bandit came into view. I watched my arrow sail through the air, and I watched my arrow bounce harmlessly off her breastplate and skitter away into the darkness.

“Ha! There you are!” She proclaimed, raising a long, curved sword over her head.

In response I drew my own, less curved, Dwarven sword and swore loudly. For the second time in my adventure, I scolded myself for not purchasing a shield. If I tried to parry her weapon I’d be likely to lose a limb anyway.

The speed with which she could move her blade would have been impressive if I wasn’t on the receiving end. I was only just managing to avoid her attacks.

If this keeps up, I’m going to lose something important.

I took a few steps back to give myself some space, and raised my hand to summon Thiazzi. The spell…failed?

“Nice try, mage. Your spells won’t work in here!” The bandit sounded ecstatic as she explained my predicament, and reinforced her point with a wicked feint and jab at my head and left arm.

Being unable to use magic was a terrifying feeling. What was happening?

Pain shot through my arm, she’d managed to nick me just above the elbow. It wasn’t serious, but it hurt like Oblivion. Before I could even cry out, a voice called out from behind me.

“DOWN!” it boomed, and I did as I was told – dropping to the ground like a sack of sweetrolls. A claymore sliced through the air where my head had been moments earlier. The cavalry had arrived.

Now the bandit was on the defensive, as Jötnar launched several heavy attacks in quick succession. His movements were almost impossibly elegant for someone with such heavy armour – a testament to years of training and no small amount of natural talent.

I crawled out of the way and dug into my pack for a bit of cloth to patch up my wound. By the time I was done, the fight was over. The bandit’s armour was scarred and battered, and a dark pool was forming where she lay.

“Can’t beat good Nordic steel,” Jötnar grinned, and offered his hand to help me up. “You alright?”

“Yes, thanks. Argonians heal quickly.” I stretched out my arm experimentally, and winced at the pain. Not quickly enough.

“Looks like you won’t be able to use your bow. I’ll stick close for the rest of the way.” He began to move out immediately. There would be no discussion.

We soon exited onto a long bridge. The room below had various vents on the floor, no doubt for poisonous gases, and was currently inhabited by a large number of skeevers. The bridge itself was no more desirable. Several large blades were dropping onto the bridge every few seconds, before being raised back up by a hidden device. There was no way around, so we’d have to time it right and go through. There was something else though.

“Hold on. Something doesn’t feel right…” I scanned the room for the source of my discomfort.

“You sure it’s not just the blades, or the rats?” Jötnar’s face was all screwed up as he tried to peer through the gloomy surroundings.

“Maybe it’s jus- oh, here we are.” I crouched to get a closer look, and my companion did likewise.

A section of the bridge ahead looked different from the rest. The stones were a slightly different colour, except for those in the middle.

“The stones on the sides are probably loose, so if you deviate from the path the whole thing will collapse. We just need to stick to the darker coloured stone.” I explained, quite proud of myself for figuring it out.

“Well that’s super, but I can’t tell one stone from the other. It’s dark as a troll’s armpit in here and I can’t see like you can.” He waved a meaty hand in front of his face to emphasise his point.

“Oh. Well how about…this.” I looked around and spotted one of the blade traps, which had been discarded on the side of the bridge. It was almost exactly the same length and width as the central stone path. Jötnar heaved it over to the correct area, and I watched from the sidelines.

Once in place, he scratched a Nordic rune onto it to get Sjöfn and Olorin’s attention. Then we ever so slowly made our way across the rest of the bridge.

As it turns out, the blade traps were incredibly easy to navigate. Most likely acting as a distraction for the ‘collapsing bridge’ trick. Jötnar simply waited until the blade dropped and held it down so we could both climb over. The dark red stains on the blades indicated that other people had been…less fortunate. A lever on the far side put a stop to any further risk of dismemberment.

We also encountered two more bandits, though both were lightly armed and dispatched quickly. Jötnar held back a bit as I quietly inspected the next room.

The room itself was quite small. There was a raised platform in the middle, and the bandits had furnished the whole thing with rugs, wall hangings, and chairs. Dozens of candles gave off a warm glow, but the cold Ayleid stone was still quite prominent. Most bizarre however, was that fact that the room was completely deserted. I waited for a few moments to be sure before calling Jötnar in.

“Hm. Cosy. Nobody home?” He leaned on his sword as he looked around, scanning the room for anything valuable or dangerous. Or both.

“I was expecting their leader to be here. If he’s not, then that would explain why there were so few guards out there.” The bandit’s we’d encountered were most likely a skeleton crew of sorts, to make sure nobody moved in while their comrades were out…on business.

“Well let’s find this stone and get going before anyone comes back.”

After a few minutes of searching, and after I’d used up all but one of my lockpicks on a fancy looking chest, we found what looked to be an Ayleid stone. It was covered in strange markings, and let off a blueish glow.

“That’s the one!” Announced Olorin, who had just arrived. Sjöfn followed close behind, with a look of boredom that could only be the result of a lengthy Ayleid history lesson.

I handed the Altmer the stone, and after he’d inspected it, we headed to the exit.

Our quest had been successful, though this was just the beginning.

Posted by: ghastley Oct 9 2015, 08:38 PM

I like the way you've used the fact that Azani's only there if you're doing that quest to suit your story. Did you move the ruin's only welkynd to the chest, or is the stone something else?

Posted by: Acadian Oct 9 2015, 08:44 PM

Gosh, I really do enjoy your writing style. The TES-friendly analogies such as ‘dropped like a bag of sweetrolls’ or ‘darker than a troll’s armpit’ are a delight. And I really like Haa-Rei’s droll and understated sense of humor that liberally spices his storytelling.

Magic won’t work down there – Haa-Rei’s not exaggerating in calling that a terrifying revelation. Such a relief that Jötnar came to the rescue. But, hmmmm, what could be the cause of this curse on magic?

Posted by: hazmick Oct 30 2015, 02:55 PM

ghastley - We may yet meet Azani in the future, but I haven't quite decided yet As for the stone - all will be revealed...

Acadian - Such praise! Thank you Yep, magical interference is definitely a scary thought, but a big Nord is a good substitute for a Storm Atronach



Previously - The timely intervention of his friend saved Haa Rei from a sticky situation, and after carefully making their way through Atatar they found what they were looking for...


Chapter 18


“So…what is it?” Jötnar asked.

The four of us were huddled around a small table in the common room of The Drunken Dragon Inn. The inn was located alarmingly close to Atatar, and the building itself was a small and simple affair of stone and thatch. The common room was small and dimly lit, with a low ceiling. As one might expect from an inn in the middle of nowhere, there were very few guests. Aside from my companions and I there was only the innkeeper – A cheerful, broad-faced man named Andreas Draconis who referred to everyone as ‘pal’ – and an Imperial Guardsman, taking a break from patrolling the wilds.

“Well, it’s all very exciting,” Olorin answered, “this is an Ayleid device which we scholars call a ‘map stone’.” If he was expecting an excited reaction, he’d be disappointed.

Jötnar was leaning closely towards the faintly glowing stone, which had been placed in the middle of the table, while Sjöfn was gently cleaning the wound on my arm, ignoring my insistence that Argonians heal quicker than humans so we don’t need any treatment. I was sitting on an incredibly uncomfortable wooden bench, but it was the only seat near the window and the morning sunlight was shining warmly on my scales.

“What’s a map stone do?” asked Jötnar again, prodding the faintly glowing stone experimentally.

“A map stone,” began Olorin, snatching the gem away from the Nord, “acts as a map. With the right know-how it should reveal the location of more Ayleid relics!”

“That sounds handy.” I said, wincing slightly as Sjöfn applied some sort of (unnecessary) herb mixture to my arm.

“Yes indeed! Indeed!” Olorin nodded happily, his long grey beard dusting the wooden table.

“How does it work?” asked Sjöfn, applying a small bandage on top of the herbs and smiling to herself at a job well done.

“Magic.” Replied Olorin mysteriously, and began fiddling with the stone.

It turned out that the stone wasn’t a single solid object, but was actually made up of three separate pieces which could be rotated like a child’s puzzle cube. After several frustrating minutes the final piece clicked into place and the stone stopped glowing. At the same moment I felt a rush of energy prickle along my spines.

“What was that?” I almost choked on my tea.

“Ayleid nonsense.” Olorin waved a hand as if he was physically dismissing it. “It dampens magic, to help prevent people from stealing it. That’s how you know it’s important.”

Well that explained a lot. If Ayleid nonsense could stop me from using magic, I’d have to be extra careful in the future. Or just avoid Ayleid ruins. Perhaps both.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing at the Inn. Olorin was muttering various spells at the stone in the hopes of fully activating it, with little (absolutely no) success. Apparently the gentleman who had hired us to retrieve it was something of an expert though, and Olorin was sure he’d be able to figure it out.

The next day, under clear blue skies, we headed back to the Imperial City. As expected, my arm had healed perfectly, and I was going to need it.

Posted by: Acadian Oct 30 2015, 08:33 PM

Ahh, safe and sound for the moment at the Inn of the Drunken Dragon. Interesting banter about the mysterious map stone that seems capable of cursing Haa-Rei’s magic. Nice ‘Argonian’ touches again, including our lizard’s preference for the window so the sun could warm his scales and that Sjöfn’s healing ministrations were unnecessary.

Posted by: Grits Nov 5 2015, 06:42 PM

I enjoyed Jötnar’s journal very much! I love his observations of Haa-Rei and his thought that he wished he could have seen them take down the big orc. Maybe he’ll get to cut someone completely in half soon.

That was a fun trip through Atatar. I love how Olorin is fiddling with the relic before turning it in. The whole exchange around the table with Sjöfn tending Haa-Rei’s wound was delightful. How wonderful to catch up with Haa-Rei sitting with the sun on his scales.

Posted by: hazmick Nov 6 2015, 05:11 PM

Acadian - The Drunken Dragon is one of those places that I always forget about since it's in such an odd location. It was nice to visit it while I was writing.

Grits - Yep, Jötnar is 100% Nord (for better worse) Glad you enjoyed it.





Previously - After Atatar, our group of adventurers took a quick break at a nearby inn while Olorin explained what it was that they'd found. Now they return to the Imperial City to finish the task...

Chapter 19



It was all quiet in the Imperial City. The taverns had long since closed their doors and the only people still awake were Imperial Guards on patrol, the occasional stray cat, and me. The night air was thick with fog, and the street lamps did little good to light the way. Thankfully my destination was the White-Gold Tower itself, which is about as difficult to miss as a…well, as a really big white tower.

The journey from Atatar to the Imperial City had allowed me plenty of time to write a report for The Blades, mentioning the clearing of bandits at Fort Homestead and the gathering of Argonians in Lleyawiin. It wasn’t as detailed as I’d have liked, and other agents would have written a dozen similar reports already, but you can never have too much information.

My thoughts on the value and/or over-saturation of information came to an abrupt stop when I entered the Imperial Palace District. The feathery spines on my head had begun to tingle – indicating that there was danger nearby. It wasn’t a very specific warning, but I knew enough to heed it and looked around carefully.

The district was made up of two tiers. The lower tier was completely full of graves. The gravestones loomed through the fog and the darkness, as if the spirits themselves were wandering through the grounds. The second tier was a raised walkway which formed a circle around the White-Gold Tower, and it was here that I carefully began to move forward.

As I approached the palace steps, I saw the reason for the earlier warning. An Imperial Palace Guard lay on the ground. His silvery white armour, inlaid with red dragons and gold studs, still gleamed in the moonlight. A vicious looking dagger was hilt-deep in his ribs. The blood pooling around his torso was still warm to the touch, indicating that the attack was recent. I looked around, but even my sharp eyes couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

A shout went up from inside the palace and I immediately drew my bow. Then, heaving on the heavy oak doors, I went to see what was happening.

It was chaos. The bodies of several guardsman lay scattered about the immediate area, and alongside them were other corpses which were dressed in hooded red robes. I nocked an arrow and crept further along the corridor, stepping over more and more bodies as I went. Then, I found them.

A group of Blades warriors were holding the door to the council chambers against a group of attackers in strange black armour. It looked similar to the armour worn by Dremora, warriors of the Daedra, but these attackers were clearly human and I watched as one was cut down by a katana. The black armour hissed and vanished in a puff of sulphurous smoke, leaving behind a red-robed corpse.

I personally dealt with another two, and when the second fell with an arrow in his back, the fighting was done. I stepped out of the shadows and the Blades all levelled their swords at me.

“Talos.” Said one, clearly the leader.

“Plaza.” I replied. A password used by the Blades in emergencies, which this definitely seemed to be.

The Blades visibly relaxed, and most turned and marched towards a set of stairs which lead higher into the tower. The muffled sounds of fighting could be heard from above.

Of the few that remained, the man I identified as their leader stepped forward to greet me. I retrieved my identification badge from my pocket and he nodded in satisfaction.

“Knight-Captain Arturius Guiniverius.” He introduced himself loudly, saluting as he did so.

“Agent Haa-Rei.” I said quietly, though I still saluted. We were more or less the same rank, even though he was part of the warriors and I was a spy. If anyone could tell me what was happening, it was him.

“The palace is under attack from an unknown force. We are currently in the process of assessing the damage and clearing the area.” Almost as if he’d read my mind, he continued. “The Emperor is safe.”

I nodded. I didn’t need to ask about the Emperor’s sons.

“If you want to help, go to the Prison District.” He said quietly. This was as close as he could get to giving me an order, so I nodded and took my leave.

I’ve never been sure why I joined the Blades. They all seem very loyal to the Emperor, but at that moment I wasn’t sure if I cared all that much. I’d never met the man, and I doubt I could even recognise him. The death of his sons still made me sad though, and I also felt concerned for the man himself. For why, I do not know, but I was making my way to the Prison District. What would the assassins hope to find there?

I stopped to assist an Imperial Guard in the Market District, who was doing a good job of attracting every assassin in the area to him. The assassins were shamefully under-trained and under-equipped. Their conjured armour was little more than an illusion, and offered about the same level of protection as their red robes. Their weapons were slightly better, but they too were conjured with a weak conjuration spell and consisted entirely of daggers. My Dwemer sword had a much longer reach and the attackers soon fell.

The guardsman sat himself down on a nearby crate and nodded his thanks while he tried to catch his breath. I nodded back and made haste through the Market and onwards towards the prison. How many of these assassins are there? Where in Oblivion are they coming from?

At last the prison loomed ahead of me. Some guardsmen had barricaded the bridge and let me pass only after I’d shown them my badge. The bodies of several assassins lay a few feet away, feathered liberally with arrows.

The Prison seemed to be all quiet, and the spines on my head had stopped tingling. Nevertheless I readied my bow and crept down the stairs.

Time to see what they’re after.

Posted by: ghastley Nov 6 2015, 05:51 PM

First time I've seen the action outside the prison at this point in the story, and it all comes on us as unexpectedly as it did to Haa-Rei. Nice touch.

"Where in Oblivion are they coming from?" especially as they're hard to find again in the game. Small numbers in scattered caves, or one or two sleepers at a time (who don't wear the robes). Didn't anyone spot all the red-robed folks flooding into town?

A couple of nits: there's a where that should be a were at the beginning and the lower tier became a tear.

Posted by: Acadian Nov 6 2015, 11:52 PM

Your description of the foggy city late at night was ominously appropriate and well-done.

I love how Haa-Rei’s tingly head spines give him a sixth sense about impending danger.

What a clever introduction and perspective to familiar events relating to the Blades’ worst night of the Third Era.

Posted by: hazmick Nov 12 2015, 02:36 PM

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.

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Nov 12 2015, 04:35 PM

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.

Posted by: Acadian Nov 12 2015, 08:29 PM

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.’

Posted by: ghastley Nov 13 2015, 02:54 AM

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).

Posted by: hazmick Jan 15 2016, 06:42 PM

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.

Posted by: ghastley Jan 15 2016, 07:11 PM

"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?

Posted by: Acadian Jan 15 2016, 08:26 PM

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?

Posted by: Grits Jan 18 2016, 11:04 PM

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!

Posted by: hazmick Jan 22 2016, 07:49 PM

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.

Posted by: Acadian Jan 23 2016, 12:20 AM

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.

Posted by: ghastley Jan 23 2016, 01:02 AM

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.

Posted by: hazmick Jan 29 2016, 08:11 PM

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.

Posted by: Acadian Jan 29 2016, 08:58 PM

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!

Posted by: ghastley Feb 3 2016, 03:59 PM

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.

Posted by: Grits Feb 5 2016, 02:47 PM

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!

Posted by: hazmick Feb 5 2016, 08:07 PM

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.”

Posted by: Acadian Feb 5 2016, 09:56 PM

’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.

Posted by: Grits Feb 13 2016, 05:03 PM

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!

Posted by: hazmick Feb 19 2016, 06:44 PM

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.

Posted by: ghastley Feb 19 2016, 07:53 PM

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.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 19 2016, 10:13 PM

I love the time you lavished upon the flora and fauna during Haa-Rei’s trek west, as forest yielded to plains. Rabbits, deer, wolves, lions and the smell of. . . Daedra.

Eithne stole the show here! How clever of Haa-Rei to think of asking his own Daedra about the fiery scamp-emitting anomaly that he encountered. And the personality, presence and movement you gave to Eithne was wonderful as she gracefully answered his questions.

Onward to Oblivion indeed!

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Feb 26 2016, 02:12 PM

The pace in this story is good. You succeed where I fail: word count. I put too much description in my chapters and in the end they go by unnoticed due to the strain it takes just to get by haha. The pacing here is great, the description good as well, balanced, and the character is going through familiar adventures that somehow feel fresh and new.

As I mentioned, the descriptions are great. What makes Cyrodiil such a wonderful locale aside from the obvious flora and atmosphere would be the fauna. The wildlife is just abundant, and game never scarce for foresters and hunters; for nature lovers, the butterflies are a sight to behold. You detailed this wonderfully in your last chapter.


Haa-Rei met a known figure, and receives his quest to deliver the amulet to Jaufree. Ah, and a Nord ally! They make wonderful traveling companions. The travel to Hackdirt was ominious, and what'd you expect from a cult-like community of paranoid weirdos.



Woah! See, that's why I found those barbarians easy to dispatch in Oblivion. No armor, no training . . . they can overwhelm if in numbers but one on one they're no challenge. In the end he proved victorious.

Haa-Rei's quest takes him to an Oblivion gate and beyond. I guess the smell of Daedra might prove to be overwhelming now that he's through the infernal gate.

Oh my . . . for an Argonian he might feel just how bad the lack of sun, fresh water and life Dagon's realm is. Best to go in, clean through and get out!

Posted by: Grits Mar 3 2016, 05:41 PM

I absolutely adored Haa-Rei’s description of the Imperial Reserve. That’s a favorite area of mine.

“Well, it’s bad manners to leave a door open.”

I just love Haa-Rei’s attitude! Eithne is delightful. I enjoyed her graceful mannerisms.

Posted by: hazmick Mar 4 2016, 07:46 PM

ghastley- Yep, I wanted Haa-Rei to explore a gate, but I didn't want him to get too involved with main quest stuff. Kvatch soon though.

Acadian - When I think of Flame Atronachs, I picture the Skyrim variant. They way they move is just perfect for a fire elemental.

Darkness Eternal - Word count is always tricky to balance. My English language and literature teachers in school and college spent years telling me to go into more detail, but not to ramble. I'm just glad you're enjoying it!

Grits - It's a lovely area, but it's so far away from...anywhere...that it often gets overlooked. As for Eithne, being a fire elemental doesn't mean one can't also be an elegant lady.



Previously - Haa-Rei continued his journey towards Kvatch, but the appearance of an Oblivion Gate has interrupted his plans. Now he journeys to Oblivion itself, with Eithne the flame atronach as his guide...

Chapter 26

“So this is Oblivion?” I asked as I looked around, my body tingling with energy from the gate behind me.

We’d emerged on a hill overlooking a completely alien landscape. The sky was the colour of blood, with dark clouds sending forks of red lightning to and fro. The ground was dry, cracked, and scorched, with vast rivers of lava being the closest thing to liquid I could see.

Despite this though, the land was anything but dead. Strange grasses and vines clung to life wherever they could, and terrifying daedric creatures wandered around below. Several dark structures could be seen dotting the landscape, and I assumed that the more powerful Daedra and dremora lived there.

“This is the Deadlands. Realm of Mehrunes Dagon, Lord of Destruction, Change, Revolution, Energy, and Ambition.” Eithne explained in her usual songlike voice. I was glad of her company.

“How do we close the gate?” I asked, hoping that we could get back to Cyrodiil, no, Nirn, as soon as possible.

“Each gate is powered by an item called a sigil stone. If we find the stone and remove it from its bindings, the gate should close and you’ll hopefully be transported back to Nirn.”

“Wait. Should? Hopefully? You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m not. I’ve never seen a mortal attempt it, so it’s just a theory.” Her use of the word ‘mortal’ always made me uneasy, and her blunt honesty wasn't filling me with much hope.

“I see. I assume this stone will be in a prominent, defensible position. Like that tower over there.” I pointed to the structure in question – A tall, dark tower which was decorated with dozens of large spikes. A perfect home for a daedric relic.

“That is a safe assumption.” Eithne began leading the way.

I stood for a moment longer before setting off. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was completely and utterly terrified, to the point where my legs could barely move. Having Eithne with me made me feel a lot better though, and as she twisted and danced through the air my legs began to move and we made our way slowly towards the tower.

We were making good progress, managing to avoid the various creatures which patrolled the wastes, when we came to a river of lava. The molten rock hissed and bubbled as it flowed slowly by, and gave off so much heat that I thought I’d faint at any moment. To cross this river I’d have to leap across several large rocks which spanned its width.

I was half way across when the scamp appeared on the far bank. In the haze of heat and sulphurous fumes I could barely see or think straight, and could only watch dumbly as the creature’s fireball whistled towards me.

Fortunately, I was not alone, and Eithne nonchalantly intercepted the projectile, catching it as one would a ball. Scamps can of course resist fire almost as well as a flame atronach, so even if Eithne favoured violence (which as I’ve mentioned, she does not) it would be a firefight without end. All she could do was act as a floating shield as I numbly jumped between rocks, landing on the other side with sword drawn.

Scamps may resist fire, but their bodies are fragile and a dwarven longsword will make quick work of them. Nevertheless, I was now tired, dizzy, and lightly singed in several places, and we were far from finished with our task.

We resumed our journey and once again managed to avoid the residents of Oblivion until we reached the tower. I knew there’d be no avoiding the creatures within, and readied my bow while Eithne heaved open the heavy doors with a strength that didn’t match her delicate appearance.

The inside of the tower was cooler than the wasteland outside, but only just. Despite being made from what appeared to be heavy black stone and metal, the tower seemed to have poor insulation. I took a deep breath of the hot, dense air, and crept further in. Eithne followed behind me, so as not to give away our position.

The source of heat in the tower was in the next room. The room itself was perfectly round, with what looked like the base of a fountain in the centre. Out of this base rose a pillar of white light, which gave off not only heat, but a shrill screaming sound which seemed to drown out everything else. A dremora stood before the fountain, and I wasted no time in loosing an arrow at him.

It struck him in the back, and he turned quickly with sword drawn. I fired again, hitting him square in the chest. This time he went down, or rather, backwards. He staggered back and tripped on the edge of the central structure, falling into the abyss from which the light pillar rose.

Eithne confirmed that the room was clear, and we moved on. The tower, unsurprisingly, had a great many stairs. We walked up and up and up until my muscles ached and my legs wobbled. Along the way we avoided and disarmed dozens of traps. Traps with fire, traps with spikes, traps with fiery spikes. There also seemed to be an endless number of scamps, who were easily dealt with but managed to drain my energy considerably.

Eithne, on the other hand, seemed quite at home. She danced through the hot air and fire like a fish through water, twirling and laughing as we moved further up the dark tower.

My heart sank even further once we reached the top. A large dremora waited for us. Covered in thick plate armour, leaning on an impossibly large greatsword of wicked black and red metal. A large spherical stone hovered behind him, seemingly being supported from below by the screaming pillar of light. The sigil stone.

“Mortal fool! You are in my domain, and will pay for your trespass!” The dremora roared. His voice sounded like fire and thunder and clashing steel all at once.

I readied my bow and loosed an arrow in one fluid motion, only to watch it bounce harmlessly off his cuirass. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

I drew my sword and moved to engage him, but he was faster than he looked. His sword carved a mighty arc through the air, and sent my blade spinning from my hand, across the room, and into the depths of the tower. A large boot kicked me in the chest, and I tumbled backwards. The dremora resumed his stance, confident in his strength.

“You can’t beat him, Haa-Rei.” Eithne’s voice cut through the hot air like a blade. I was momentarily stunned – she’d never called me by my name before. “Go for the stone. I’ll distract him.”

The usually elegant Eithne suddenly changed. Her feet firmly planted on the floor, her fiery body glowed white with heat. The dremora saw the danger and readied his sword as the flame atronach collided with him, sending a shower of sparks whizzing through the air. I took my chance and dashed across the room towards my objective.

I grabbed the stone and wrenched it from the fiery anchor which held it in place. Almost immediately the dremora let out an ear splitting howl. The air grew hotter, searing my scales and filling my vision with white light. Then, everything was gone.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 5 2016, 12:36 AM

A wonderfully portrayed introduction to the inside of an Oblivion gate for Haa-Rei.

Once again, Eithne steals the show here. I’m glad you are ‘modeling’ her after the SkyFlameAtronachs as Bethesda really did a superb job packing so much presence and personality into them. And, of course, she’s right at home in Dagon’s burning deadlands.

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Mar 7 2016, 09:39 PM

So we arrive in Oblivion-specifically-the realm of Dagon: the Deadlands.

We’d emerged on a hill overlooking a completely alien landscape. The sky was the colour of blood, with dark clouds sending forks of red lightning to and fro. The ground was dry, cracked, and scorched, with vast rivers of lava being the closest thing to liquid I could see.

Well, If there's a bright center to the universe, he's on the realm that it's farthest from

Not the best place to go for sightseeing. The denizens aren't welcoming either. Scamps dot the hellish plane and resist fire but cannot endure the kiss of a dwarven blade. Sword fodder, these. Quite the daring action as he and Eithne moved through the tower. I guess flame-wars would go on endlessly with Eithne around. A clever way to make us sympathize with the demonized creatures the mortals call Daedra. I like Eithne already!

Swordless, and seemingly knocked unconscious . . . we are left with a hanger, wondering what has become of our Argonian. My bets is he is taken prisoner by the clan-like warriors. Hmm.

Posted by: ghastley Mar 7 2016, 09:44 PM

If Haa-Rei has my kind of luck, he's just grabbed a Sigil Stone that confers Waterbreathing.

His bow being unable to affect Dremora armor is a dangerous precedent to set yourself. You'll need a good reason for his next encounter to work differently. But you've planned for that, haven't you?

Posted by: hazmick Mar 11 2016, 10:02 PM

Acadian - I wasn't originally planning to have Eithne accompany us to Oblivion, but I quite enjoy writing about her. Glad to see she's made an impact.

Darkness Eternal- Yeah I wouldn't personally want to visit the Deadlands, but I can see why the scamps like it so much.

ghastley - Not to worry, the bow problem is all in hand. Or rather it will be soon(ish).




Previously - Haa-Rei and Eithne journeyed to the Deadlands - realm of Mehrunes Dagon. After several heated encounters our Argonian managed to get his claws on the sigil stone and was enveloped by white light...

Chapter 27


The mysteries of Oblivion have always been vast and unknowable to mortals, but the Oblivion Crisis (as this period of time would later be known) gave us an incredible amount of knowledge. We now know, for example, that a sigil stone can be used as a power focus for many different conjuration rituals. We also know that sigil stones will trigger a transplanar teleportation when they are unceremoniously yanked from their anchor points that hold open Oblivion gates. In simpler terms – when I grabbed the stone it caused the Oblivion gate to close, and I was spat back out into Nirn.

I landed with a heavy thud on the scorched ground around the gate. For a moment I simply lay there feeling rather dazed, staring up at the clear night sky. Stars twinkled overhead, and the twin moons glowed brightly as if to welcome me back. After a second or two I remembered how to breathe, and began gulping huge mouthfuls of clean air and coughing up the sulphurous fumes of Oblivion.

I was mostly uninjured, but for a few scratches and sore scales. My armour was in a sorry state, with scorch marks covering almost every part of it. My quiver had suffered a heavy singing and most of the arrows were ruined, though mercifully my bow was intact. The greatest loss however was my sword, which was nowhere to be found.

On the other hand, or rather in my sword hand, I had gained something else though. The sigil stone.

It was perfectly spherical and made of some sort of glass material. Within its depths I could see shifting and swirling patterns of red and black. The surface of the stone, which at first appeared smooth, also seemed to shift slightly to match these patterns. It was one of the most captivatingly beautiful objects I’d ever seen, and it struck me as odd that something so pretty could be found in such a harsh landscape.

It also seemed to hum with energy, and as I moved it from one hand to the other, the palm of my gauntlet disintegrated into a pile of ash. Prolonged contact with the stone had simply burned through the leather, and I was thankful that I hadn’t picked it up with bare hands. On closer inspection I realised that it was no longer giving off any heat, so I concluded that it was the initial contact that had done the damage. With that in mind I carefully wrapped up the stone in a piece of tough cloth and stowed it in my pack.

I turned to ask Eithne more about the stone when I suddenly realised that she wasn’t there. I shakily climbed to my feet and looked around, but my flame atronach companion was nowhere to be seen. I tried casting the conjuration spell, but it simply fizzled out. Daedra can’t die, they simply dematerialize back into the waters of Oblivion until you call for them again. So why can’t I call her? Where is she? Could she be trapped in there? I looked at the smouldering pile of rocks that used to be the Oblivion gate, and my heart felt heavy.

My body, however, felt tired, and the night air had grown chilly. I left the gate behind and wandered in what I hoped was a south-westerly direction. I stopped once I found a suitably large boulder, and set about gathering wood for a fire.

It took longer than expected thanks to the landscape of the Imperial Reserve, but I soon had a small campfire and enough wood to keep it going until morning. After several more minutes of rooting about in my pack, I heaved out my bedroll and lay it between the fire and the boulder. It was hardly an armchair in front of the fireplace, but it was as cosy as one could be in such a situation. I munched on some dried strips of beef and couldn’t help but smile to myself. This is the life.

I awoke the next morning feeling rather groggy, and the thick fog that had descended on the landscape did nothing to warm me up. The cool mist on my scales was rather refreshing though, so I woke up the slumbering campfire and warmed myself as best as I could before gathering my things and setting off.

If my calculations were correct then I would be arriving in Kvatch in about 2 days. Unfortunately I hadn’t foreseen my trip to Oblivion or the dense fog that had now slowed me down to a yawning crawl. For 3 days I wandered through the mist, unable to see more than 20 feet in any direction. The occasional sounds of a passing deer or snapping twig seemed to echo through the air, but just when I was getting rather fed up with it all, the fog cleared.

I was standing atop a rather large rock, catching my breath, when a strong breeze blew in from the south and pushed the fog away. Ahead of me I could see the city of Kvatch, and it was burning.

Great plumes of smoke formed puffy grey pillars reaching up into the low clouds, as if the city was holding up the sky. Even at this distance I could see that many buildings had been destroyed. The wind blew again, carrying with it the scent of burning wood, bodies…and Oblivion.

The spines on my head were tingling as I clambered down from the rock and set off at a run towards the city, almost slipping over on the damp grass.

“Here we go again.” I sighed.

Posted by: ghastley Mar 11 2016, 10:32 PM

It took me a while to remember that Oblivion and Skyrim are almost diametrically opposite when it comes to conjuration spells, and that the inability to cast a spell means the previous use hasn't ended yet. So that would mean that Eithne's still around, somewhere.

I'm still expecting that stone to give him Waterbreathing, but after all the references to how his equipment is scorched to the point of uselessness, it could be Frost Resistance.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 11 2016, 11:44 PM

Aww, I hope Eithne finds Haa-Rei. . . or the other way around maybe.

Nice description of the sigil stone - they are fascinating objects for sure.

Oh noes! Not another gate! After what he's just been through, it speaks much of Haa-Rei's character that he runs toward the Kvatch gate instead of away from it.

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Mar 16 2016, 03:52 PM

Haa-Rei's Fiery Friend is gone? Most unfortunate.

This says much about Sigil Stones. Have you read http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Oblivion:Liminal_Bridges? Explains quite a bit on the nature of a Sigil Stone.

How relieved he must have been to return from Oblivion to breath the fresh, clear air of Cyrodiil. Being another dimension - another realm- I imagine even the air is different in temperature and heaviness. At least he's whole, with no arrows, no sword but a bow. I suppose he'll need to acquire some arrows.

Through a peaceful night, a cold morning and some heavy forecast of fog, our Argonian at last reaches town that is burned to the grown by Oblivion's wrathful citizens. Back to dealing with Daedra again . . .

I long for a reunion with Eithne.

Posted by: hazmick Mar 25 2016, 02:48 PM

ghastley - all will be revealed, eventually.

Acadian - You know how those gates are - close one and another seems to pop right up again.

Darkness Eternal - I have indeed, and it will serve as source material for future sigil stone shenanigans. I love the overly complex language that it uses - very 'mage-y'




Previously - Haa-Rei emerged from the gate in one, slightly charred, piece. After losing several days to bad weather he has finally arrived in Kvatch, only to see it burning...

Chapter 28


My haste to leap into action proved completely unnecessary. I scrambled up the hill to Kvatch, only to find that the city had been saved mere hours before my arrival. Of course I was glad that the city was no longer being besieged by the demonic forces of Oblivion, but I was also a little bit annoyed that I’d ran all this way for nothing. Any selfish feelings I had were soon dismissed, as I learned more of the situation.

A refugee camp had been established on a large, open space about halfway up the path to the city. Several people were busy with sewing, mixing herbs, cooking, and whatever else they could do to keep busy. Others simply stared off into the distance or wept quietly to themselves. For such a large city, there were very few people here.

I handed all of my food to a Nord woman who was busy chopping vegetables to go into a large cooking pot. After thanking me, she began to explain what had happened.

An Oblivion gate had opened in front of the city several nights previous and Daedra had swarmed through Kvatch, killing and burning everything in sight (apart from the chapel, which was seemingly impervious to direct assault). The guardsmen had the good sense to just rescue whoever they could and leave the city, where they regrouped and set up defensive lines in order to protect the civilians. A passing adventurer, who matched the description of the person I was here to find, ventured into the Oblivion gate and closed it. Once the gate was closed, the adventurer and the guardsmen charged into the city (meeting up with some civilians who had weathered the attack in the chapel) and defeated the remaining Daedra. The adventurer (already being referred to as the ‘Hero of Kvatch’) departed shortly thereafter in the company of a priest. They were last seen heading along the road to Skingrad.

I’d found a large boulder to sit on while I went over all of this information, and let out a long sigh. I hadn’t considered the effects of the Oblivion gate that I’d closed, being so far away from anywhere, but this attack on Kvatch was utterly catastrophic.

I thought of sleepy Chorrol, and of Deeh back in Leyawiin. What would happen if they were attacked? Would the guards be as heroic as those in Kvatch? Would a passing adventurer happen to be nearby to close the gate? Then there was the timing – if the Nord had been correct, the gate had opened on the night of the Emperor’s death. Finally, what was the significance of the priest? Was he the package that Jauffre had sent for? Was any of this linked, or was it all a series of terrible coincidences?

“E-excuse me sir.” A small voice pulled me away from my thoughts. It belonged to a blonde haired woman, a Breton, wearing the torn and charred remains of a green dress. A young girl, who I judged to be her daughter due to the striking resemblance, clung to her hand. They were looking up at me with wide eyes, and I clambered down from my rock before replying.

“Yes?” I asked, slightly confused that she’d called me ‘sir’.

“Would you happen to be an adventurer? I-I saw you give your food to the others so I was hoping you would help me with something too. You’d be p-paid of course…” She was clearly nervous, and spoke so fast that I could barely keep up, but trailed off at the end. She looked exhausted.
“What is it that you need help with, exactly?”

“Well I- that is, my daughter and I, were on our way to Anvil when…this happened…so I was hoping to find someone to travel the last s-stage of the journey with. Hopefully someone that would be able to keep us safe from any D-Daedra that may be roaming around…” Her eyes wandered from my armour to my bow, as if she was making sure that I was properly equipped.

My first thought was to reject the proposal. I was here on Blades business, and my target had a head start of several hours in the direction of Skingrad. On top of that, I had no sword – a sellsword with no sword is quite frankly an embarrassment to the profession. Just as I was about to decline, the child spoke.

“If you help us, I’ll share my sweets with you,” She said, and revealed a crumpled paper bag containing some slightly melted candy. “but not all of them. The rest is for Ali.” She had such a strong voice that I momentarily forgot which of us was the child and which was the brave mercenary.
“Who’s Ali?” I asked after I’d regained my composure.

“Oh, that’s Ailinwe. My wife. She’s waiting for us in Anvil.” The woman explained, patting her child on the head. The youngsters input seemed to calm the woman.

Well that was that then. What sort of Argonian would I be if I stood between a woman and her wife, and more importantly between myself and some sweets. Sword or no sword, I would do it.

“Ok then, I’ll get you to Anvil. We’ll set off whenever you’re ready.”

I’d assumed they would take a while to gather their things, maybe have some food and rest before leaving, but after disappearing into a tent for a few seconds they emerged with a small pack and told me they were ready to go.

And so, I set off toward Anvil while the Hero of Kvatch moved in the opposite direction. Even so, I felt as if I was doing the right thing.

Posted by: ghastley Mar 25 2016, 05:13 PM

Of course Haa-Rei needs to go to Anvil. He needs a new sword, and he shouldn't take one from the Kvatch Camp.

But didn't his mother tell him not to accept sweets from strangers?

Posted by: Acadian Mar 26 2016, 08:04 PM

Aww, Haa-Rei has a good heart. Besides, sounds like Martin is in pretty capable hands.

Posted by: Grits Mar 31 2016, 05:42 PM

I loved Haa-Rei’s vision of the Deadlands! Too bad about his sword. Uh oh, and Eithne is out of reach.

Whew, what a relief that someone took care of that Kvatch Gate. It speaks highly of Haa-Rei that he was heading in that direction, but I’m glad he didn’t get dragged straight back to Oblivion! Haa-Rei’s interaction with the Breton and her daughter was thoroughly charming. Perhaps Anvil will hold a sword for Haa-Rei. At the least there will be sweets along the way!

Posted by: hazmick Apr 8 2016, 05:08 PM

ghastley - Anvils are often the best place to find swords, so who knows what we'll find there.

Acadian - A good heart and a sweet tooth

Grits - Yep, I think one Oblivion Gate is enough for Haa-Rei at the moment.




Previously - Haa-Rei arrived at Kvatch to learn that the city had been attacked by Daedra. Thanks to the valiant efforts of the city guard, many people were saved. Two such people have hired Haa-Rei to accompany them to Anvil...

Chapter 29


“Haa-Rei?” A small voice spoke up beside me.

“Yes, Marie?” I replied, turning to address the child.

We’d been walking for almost an hour, and aside from introducing themselves my companions had been silent. Ordinarily I would have been more than happy to walk in peace, but the young girl (who was called Marie) had been staring at me for the entire journey so far. Her mother, Lynette, was focused purely on the road ahead – keen to see Anvil, and her wife.

“Can I ride on your shoulders?” Asked Marie. Apparently she’d been deciding whether or not I would be a comfortable seat.

“Marie, you can’t jus-“ Her mother began, but stopped when I raised my hand to show I didn't mind.

“Well, I don’t suppose you can see much of anything from down here,” I said, crouching down so I was at Marie’s eye level. “climb aboard.”

“Thanks!” huffed the child as she clambered up onto my shoulders. Her mother smiled and also thanked me. I was just happy to be able to pick up the pace now that it was just us two adults on foot.

It wasn’t long before I found my head turning of its own accord, or rather of Marie’s accord. Her tiny hands were using my horns as one would use reins, steering me this way and that every time she saw something of interest. Things of interest primarily included flowers, insects, and various leaves which I was asked to identify. The child found this entire experience to be utterly hilarious, and giggled throughout my informative talk on the leaves of coastal Cyrodiil. Her mother also laughed, and for the first time she seemed to smile properly, without her usual hint of sadness.

“Have you ever been to Anvil?” Marie asked, tapping me on the head with her new favourite leaf.

“I have not. Why do you ask?”

“We’re going to be living there, so I wondered what it was like.”

“Well, I hear it’s always nice and warm. Lots of people from all over Tamriel visit the port for trade and travel.” I tried to think of things that she might find interesting about a city, but this was the first time I’d ever spent time with a human child and I was at a loss for ideas.

“Is there a beach?”

“I expect so. It’s right next to the sea, after all.”

“I don’t like the sea…but I like the beach.” Truth be told I didn’t like either, but I kept quiet as my passenger began to chatter happily about the pros and cons of the seaside.

Any initial worries I might have had about this journey were all but forgotten. The weather was warm, and there was no sign at all of any Daedra in the area. The guards of Kvatch had done a good job to keep anything from getting past their line.

The only issue arose when we arrived at an inn towards the end of the day. A large sign hung on the door which proclaimed that no more rooms were available, likely full of refugees and other travelers. If I had been alone I could have made the journey to Anvil at night, but I didn’t want to risk it with my two companions.

Marie had fallen asleep, still on my shoulders, so I asked Lynette what she wanted to do.

“Do you think we could make it to Anvil now?” She asked, though she likely knew what my answer would be. Her thoughts had been entirely focused on being reunited with her wife, and being so close must be frustrating to say the least.

“Personally I think it would be a bad idea to continue tonight. Marie is already asleep, so we should set up camp for the night.” I tried my best to be firm but fair, and Lynette nodded in agreement.

I found a suitable spot just off the road, sheltered by a small group of trees. After Lynette removed my sleeping passenger, she fished some blankets from her pack and wrapped Marie in one, and herself in the other. By this time I’d got a modest fire going, though the evening air was warm enough without it.

I almost regretted giving my food to the Kvatch refugees, as I had nothing to give Lynette. I’d eaten only a day ago, and as such didn’t need anything myself. Humans need to eat several times a day of course.

Fortunately I still had my bow, and it wasn’t long before the Breton woman was deftly plucking a partridge. It was mesmerising to watch as she prepared and cooked the bird with the skill and speed of a professional.

“I used to work in the kitchens of a Lord’s house in High Rock.” She explained. “That’s where I met Ailinwe.”

“How come you and Marie are travelling alone?” I asked, trying to distract her from the momentary gloom that appeared on her face at the mention of her wife’s name.

“Ailinwe traveled ahead. We’ve bought a house in Anvil and she wanted to make sure it was all in order by the time we get there.”

“Well you shouldn’t be waiting much longer. If we set off at first light we should make it by noon.”

“Thank you…and thank you for being so kind to Marie. She can be very…forward.”

“No problem. She’s a fine young lady, though I’m not sure how effective my lesson on leaves was.” To illustrate my point about how interesting leaves were, I produced my tea equipment from my pack and got to work. “If you’d care for some tea, I have a delicious blend that I brought from Morrowind. It’s called ‘Ash Tea’, though it has a very minimal ash content.”

I began a thorough talk on the foods of Morrowind and their high ash content (which Dunmer seem to have a thing for) while Lynette ate and drank her fill. A sleepy Marie joined us to eat her own share, then went almost immediately back to sleep. Her mother soon followed her example, and I was left to stand guard.

I took the opportunity to read a fascinating book about Oblivion Gates, which used lots of complicated mage words. I was still unable to summon Eithne, but now I had some ideas about possible solutions to the problem.

These ideas would have to wait, as we set off for Anvil shortly after dawn. Marie sleepily resumed her position atop my shoulders, still partially wrapped in a blanket which gave the impression that she was wearing a cape.

“Are we nearly there?” Lady Marie asked.

“Almost.” I replied.

Posted by: Acadian Apr 8 2016, 06:59 PM

Before I forget, let me mention your screenshot for Rains Hand. Beautiful, intriguing and eerie. What are we looking at there?


‘Her tiny hands were using my horns as one would use reins, steering me this way and that every time she saw something of interest.’
Gosh there is so much goodness here! You delicately remind us of Haa-Rie’s Argonianness while Marie captures everyone’s heart! Indeed, what a fabulous job you’ve done with her.

’Humans need to eat several times a day of course.’
As ever, I love it when Haa-Rei speaks Argonian to us,

Oh, I hope I detected the foreshadowing of Eithne’s return.

Always a delight to travel along with Haa-Rei.

Posted by: hazmick Apr 8 2016, 10:58 PM

Thank you. That would be Haa-Rei (In full Tree-Minder regalia) kneeling before a Hist tree (decorated with an Argonian totem) and an Argonian nest. One of the two Argonian eggs there is empty, having hatched.

There are large communal Hatching Pools, but one can also find these smaller nests tucked away in the wilderness. The bright red Hist fruit is always a sign of nearby nests.

Posted by: Grits Apr 10 2016, 06:27 PM

Haa-Rei’s manner with Marie was just as charming as the young human herself. As ever I love the remarks that show men and mer as different from Argonians rather than the usual Argonians are the different ones.

I’m a little nervous about Lynette and Ailinwe’s new Anvil house.

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Apr 12 2016, 10:06 PM

Very confusing, too




This alone tells volumes of the forces at work here.

Hmm, late behind Kvatch's salvation it seems. It is a breath of fresh air that this is not the Champion, but perhaps a champion in his own right. Someone did his work for him.

Marie and his interaction was fun.

Posted by: ghastley Apr 13 2016, 02:09 PM

I have to share Grits' concern over the potential choice of house. The real estate market in Anvil is rather limited.

Although, in my games, it was always the CoC who cleaned that place up. Perhaps he's been through already?

Posted by: hazmick May 6 2016, 03:07 PM

Acadian - I'm glad you like Marie. I was conscious of trying to make her seem like a child, but not in a 'childish' way...if that makes sense As for your hopeful foreshadowing, you will have to wait and see

Grits - I'm not usually a fan of children myself, but writing Marie has proven to be quite fun. Whether or not the house will be as fun remains to be seen.

Darkness Eternal - Yep, this isn't a story about champions, just a simple Argonian's Account

ghastley - Your housing concerns may prove to be true. As for the CoC, having them complete all the quests before Haa-Rei gets there would certainly make it easier to write, though slightly less interesting I'd imagine.


EVERYONE - Apologies for the lack of chapters recently. I've been away from home and haven't had much time for writing. I'll be away for several weeks after this, but I'll get to writing more as soon as I can.



Previously - Haa-Rei accompanied Marie and Lynette on the last leg of their journey to Anvil. Fortunately the road was safe, but can the same be said of the town?

Chapter 30

The mood in Anvil was, in a word, bad. I’d expected a bustling port town, but what people I saw on the street were tense and silent. News of the Emperor’s death and the attack on Kvatch had arrived almost simultaneously and had an immediate effect on the people.

We had arrived in Anvil shortly before midday. The sun was warm and bright overhead but did little to lighten the mood of the town. Fortunately it was not all doom and gloom. I was standing near the city gates, Marie still on my shoulders, watching Lynette’s reunion with her wife, Ailinwe. The Altmer woman had been waiting for us all morning from the looks of things, and Marie had instructed me to hang back a bit.

“That’s Ali.” Marie helpfully pointed out.

“I see. Don’t you want to go over there?”

“Not yet. Oh, we can go over there.” I found my head being turned slightly to the right, to another Altmer woman who was likewise watching the reunion from a respectful distance. She bore a remarkable resemblance to Ailinwe.

“Who’s this?” I whispered, already starting to walk towards her.

“This is Auntie Ciri. She’s Ali’s sister. She’s really nice.” Marie whispered back.

To describe an Altmer as ‘beautiful’ is like saying that fire is hot or water is wet, but Cirinwe (Auntie Ciri’s actual name) was truly beautiful in every sense of the word. She was a couple of inches taller than me, with golden skin which made the midday sun seem dull in comparison. Her hair was a very light blonde, almost white, and had been fashioned into a long braid which reached down to her waist.

The first thing that I noticed, however, was her injury. The ear on her right side was missing the pointed tip, and she had some light scarring on that side of her face. It looked like she had been burned quite severely, but someone had done a very good job of healing it. As we approached she turned her face slightly in an attempt to hide her injury, and I felt like a colossal fool for staring so much.

“Good afternoon, Marie, I see you’ve made a friend since we last saw each other.” Cirinwe smiled brightly as she addressed my current employer, still seated on my shoulders, and nodded a greeting to me as well.

“Hello Auntie. This is Haa-Rei, he's an adventurer.” Marie introduced me and I nodded my head, or rather Marie nodded my head for me, to return the greeting.

“A pleasure to meet you, Haa-Rei the Adventurer.” Cirinwe said, trying not to laugh too much at my situation. Her eyes were the colour of oak leaves in Hearthfire, and were full of light.

Before I had a chance to speak for myself, Lynette’s voice called us all over to her. She and Ailinwe had both been crying, and their faces were a swirl of emotions (primarily joy).

After more introductions were had I was asked to speak with Lynette and Ailinwe alone, while Cirinwe and Marie went to get some lunch. The Breton child seemed disappointed at the idea of walking anywhere, but the prospect of food was a good distraction. I stretched by back and shoulders after she'd dismounted, and wondered if I should purchase a saddle for myself.

“Lynette tells me that you’re an adventuring sellsword...” Ailinwe began.

“That’s right.” I confirmed warily. It was obvious that I was about to be offered a job.

“Well I was wondering if you have any experience with…ghosts.” The Altmer had grown quieter.

“Ghosts? What kind of ghosts?” Having travelled around Morrowind, a land where people revere their ancestors with elaborate tombs, I was more than familiar with a wide range of undead.

“We’ve purchased a house here in Anvil, you see, but we think it might be haunted. We don’t have enough money to hire the guilds to investigate, so we were hoping to find a…private contractor to look into it. I know you’ve already helped Lynette and Marie, and you need to be paid for that, but…” The Altmer trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

I paused to think for a moment. I wasn’t sure if a haunted house was the same as just killing a ghost in a tomb, but I had grown quite fond of these people even after knowing them for only a day or so, and I would like to help them if I could.

“I’ll help if I can, though I’m not an expert…and I can’t guarantee success.” It was the best I could do, but even so it was enough for them.

“Thank you! We’ll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” Ailinwe grabbed one of my hands a shook it until I thought it was about to fall off. Lynette simply smiled and thanked me in her reserved manner.

The house in question was a large manor near the town’s gates. It looked quite rundown from the outside, with missing roof slates and an large covering of ivy on the walls. Inside was much the same, with a thick layer of dust covering every surface. The spines on my head began to tingle as soon as I entered the building, but I could find nothing of note in any of the rooms.

According to Ailinwe the problems only occur at night, and consist of anything from furniture moving on its own to a full on attack from ghosts. She also said that Cirinwe would be assisting me, and although she was a mage she had few offensive capabilities so the fighting would be up to me. Regardless, I was quite relieved that I would have someone else with me, for fear of failure rather than a fear of the undead.

For the moment though I had been left alone in the house, the two women having gone to join Cirinwe and Marie for some food. I wasn’t hungry, and needed to prepare. If I was going to be fighting ghosts I would need some silver or enchanted weapons.

With that in mind I headed for the Anvil Mages Guild. I had a plan.

Posted by: Acadian May 6 2016, 07:06 PM

Wherever the next couple weeks takes you, I hope you return to us happily and safely.

*

News of the crisis spreads, I see, darkening the mood in Anvil.

Two new characters and, like Lynette and little Marie, you bring both Altmer to life quickly via their words, description and mannerisms.

Ahah! The Anvil Manor! I love how Haa-Rei’s head spikes, after being used by Marie to steer him around, now come into play helping to divine for ghosts.

I wonder what Haa-Rei’s plan is?

I’m also curious about Cirinwe – whether her scar and dearth of offensive magicks are related.

Posted by: Grits May 12 2016, 07:22 PM

What a lovely description of Cirinwe! She sounds breathtaking. I like Haa-Rei’s opinion that Altmer = beautiful. That’s definitely the case in ESO, each high elf is more gorgeous than the last.

Haa-Rei’s interactions with people are so charming. Ooo, an Anvil ghost adventure! I’m looking forward to this.

I hope the next couple of weeks go well for you.

Posted by: hazmick May 14 2016, 04:13 PM

Acadian - Thank you It's nothing too exciting, just squaring away some stuff at uni. There's limited internet access in the house where I live down there, and the environment is not conducive to writing.

Grits - ESO's Altmer are actually the main reason for Cirinwe's existence. I love the way they and the Dunmer look.



Previously - After reuniting Lynette with her wife, Ailinwe, Haa-Rei agreed to help them with a haunting in their home. Ailinwe's sister, Cirinwe, will be lending him a hand...

Chapter 31

Do I fear ghosts? No. Was I absolutely terrified that night in the Anvil mansion? Yes.

If I was asked about my fears, ghosts would not be among them. Indeed there isn’t anything that I would say that I fear. This isn’t because I consider myself to be brave and fearless, but rather because I like to act on a case-by-case basis. If I was scared of all ghosts, or all Daedra, then I would never set foot in another ruin, crypt, or abandoned mansion ever again, and would have missed out on dozens of fascinating conversations that I’ve had over the years with friendly spirits and Daedra. Not that there isn't good reason to fear ghosts of course, but I stand by my point.

My business at the Mages Guild had gone reasonably well. After reading a book about ghosts I purchased a quiver of silver arrows from a local merchant, and spent a small fortune at the guild to have them enchanted with fire damage. Usually one would either go for silver OR enchantment, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

After that I found Cirinwe and we formulated a plan. We would wait in the mansion all night, and hope that the ghost would be so kind as to show itself and let me shoot it. It was simple, but that just meant there was less that could go wrong. Ailinwe, Lynette, and Marie would spend the night at an inn, and I hoped that I would be able to give them some good news in the morning.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Asked Cirinwe. We had been in the house for 2 hours or so by this point, and neither of us had said a word. The spines on my head had not stopped tingling since we’d arrived.

“No…sorry.”

“No need to apologise. I like it.” She spoke without looking up from her book.

I opened my mouth to reply, but when no witticism was forthcoming I simply opted to remain silent. For the briefest of moments I thought I saw a smile appear on her face, but it was gone in an instant like the sun peeking through clouds.

We were sitting on the bed in the master bedroom, which was the only room with any intact furnishings. Even with several dozen candles dotted around the room, the darkness pressed in. Cirinwe sat to my left, her unscarred side towards me, and was reading a large tome about restoration magic. I was going back through the book about ghosts which I had…borrowed from the Mages Guild. We were sitting in complete silence, but it was a very comfortable one.

Hours passed without any incident, and I was about to suggest that Cirinwe should get some sleep when I heard a crash from downstairs.

We both shot to our feet. I had an arrow knocked and ready in one swift movement, and I could see the distinct golden glow of restoration magic from the corner of my eye. She might not be a destruction mage, but Cirinwe’s book had clearly given her some combat tips.

All was silent again, though this was anything but comfortable. One by one the candles sputtered out, and we were left with only a faint glow of moonlight through the windows. This meant that when a blue light began to approach the door, it was clearly visible.

A faint noise also approached, just at the edge of my hearing but getting louder and louder.

“Can you hear that?” I asked, but my companion shook her head. It sounded as if someone was letting out a very long breath, but turned into a moan as the volume increased.

“Wait,” Cirinwe whispered “I can hear it now.” She’d turned her head so that her left ear (presumably her better one) was facing the door. The moonlight cast deep shadows on her scarred cheek.

The door handle began to rattle, then turn, before the door swung open with a dramatic creak.

After such a terrifying entrance, the ghost itself looked positively mundane. The ash wraiths and guardian spirits of Morrowind were skeletal in appearance, dressed in rags or old armour, but this was just a vaguely person-shaped mist.

The ghost stretched out a pale hand and rushed towards us, straight into one of my arrows. It shrieked as the dual attack of silver and fire dissolved it into a puddle on the floor.

When no more ghosts were forthcoming I carefully stepped over the puddle and slowly headed downstairs, Cirinwe following closely behind. We met another ghoulish guest on the stairs, and another in the dining room, and both fell to my arrows without much fuss. I was feeling much better about the whole situation now, but my spines were still telling me to be careful. If the ghosts aren’t the danger, then what is?

“Here.” Cirinwe motioned me over to where she was crouched. An old vase lay smashed on the ground, with the skeletal remains of a hand lying amongst the pieces.

“This must have been the first noise we heard. Where’s the hand’s owner?” I peered around the room for any clues, but my companion already had the answer.

She pulled a scrap of paper from the skeleton hand, and cast a spell of illumination. A small orb of light appeared above her head, and her eyes quickly scanned the page.

“It is as the Guild thought,” The Altmer said, frowning slightly, “there’s necromancy at work here.”

Do I fear ghosts? No. Was I absolutely terrified that night in the Anvil mansion? Yes.

Posted by: Acadian May 14 2016, 08:02 PM

Well done, Haa-Rei! Silver arrows enchanted with fire was a great choice. I liked the comfortable silence you described between lizard and scarred elf. It does seem that simply waiting without motion or sound would come very naturally to the reptilian Haa-Rei.

Methinks that both Haa-Rei’s tingling head spines and Cirinwe’s ominous words foretell that the worst of the mansion's secrets is yet ahead of them.

Posted by: ghastley May 14 2016, 10:28 PM

Presumably ghosts are a known, and it's the unknown that's to be feared. That house is definitely full of unknown.

Nit: your creek should have been a creak, unless you have a paddle available.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 3 2016, 03:08 PM

Acadian - Yep. As always, nothing is as simple as it first seems.

ghastley - When it comes to undead I'd say that it's both the known and unknown that should be feared, just to be safe.


Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe began their vigil of the manor. After being attacked by some ghosts, the duo explored the house and found a clue which hints at a bigger danger...

Chapter 32

Benirus Manor, the true name of this house, was once owned by a gentleman named Lorgren Benirus. Around 98 years prior to my visit, Lorgren had been dabbling in necromancy, much to the distaste of the local populace. Even before the Mages Guild outlawed the practice, many people found it distasteful. All too often a Necromancer finds himself delving too deep into the darker side of the school. Such was the case here.

Lorgren had begun to use corpses to fuel his growing power, snatching them from the Anvil graveyard. This lead to a raid on the manor by the Mages Guild, who defeated Lorgren. Unfortunately his body vanished at the time, though the presence of a skeletal hand in a jar suggested to Cirinwe and I that he may still be on the premises.

Once Cirinwe had told me this story, we wasted no time in searching the house for anything suspicious. I wasn’t sure what to look for, maybe he’d just be hiding in a cupboard somewhere and this would all be finished with soon.

As it turned out, he was hiding in a secret underground room which was sealed behind a magical blood door. So just a fancy cupboard.
“What is that” I asked as Cirinwe lead me to the door.

“Well it’s a door that needs blood to open.” She replied with a slight smile, making me feel like a fool for asking such a ridiculous question.

“I assume it needs a specific person’s blood.”

“Yes, usually. Though…” She trailed off and began inspecting the door more closely, casting some spells and occasionally prodding the dusty bricks which were covered in bright red runes. I sat myself down on a nearby barrel and kept quiet while she worked.

After several minutes of casting and prodding, the Altmer stopped and turned to me.

“I’ll need a hand,” She said, only to realise the vagueness of her instruction. “The hand. From the vase.”

“Oh right…here” I handed her the skeletal appendage, which I’d wrapped in a scrap of dusty curtain for safekeeping.

I readied my bow as Cirinwe pressed the hand to the door and cast a spell. For a few moments nothing seemed to be happening, and I was about to sit back down. Suddenly the runes on the wall lit up as if they were on fire, and several bricks shuddered before swinging back, revealing a dark passageway.

Just as before, I led the way, followed by Cirinwe who was looking a little tired from the door experiments. I knew better than to ask if she was alright, so I focused my attention on the passageway. There was no light in the passage itself, but a warm glow from the far end led our way.

We emerged into a large stone chamber. It was very open, the ceiling held up by four thick stone pillars. Candles were spread all over the room, illuminating every corner and crevice. There was a desk by the entrance which was empty but for a single tome which positively oozed darkness. In the centre of the chamber was a raised altar, upon which lay a skeleton. A skeleton that was missing one hand. I think the presence of a few ghosts would have lightened the mood considerably. As we approached the altar a red circle of runes appeared on the floor.

“That’s odd. I’ve seen these before, in Dunmer tombs.” I said, thinking back to my time in Morrowind. For someone who dislikes undead I spend an awful lot of time in burial sites.

“It’s a speaking circle. It allows people to speak to the dead, or to Daedra. Basically any transplanar...” Cirinwe stopped herself after using the word ‘transplanar’ and cleared her throat before continuing. “Anyway, we can use it to talk to Lorgren.”

“It doesn’t look big enough for two people to stand in. You can talk to him.” I said, taking a couple of steps back. I wasn’t too bothered about speaking to an undead, grave-robbing necromancer, but the thought of standing so uncomfortably close to someone made my scales itch.

“Oh don’t be silly, we’re both quite skinny I’m sure we can squeeze in.” Cirinwe looked utterly serious, and grabbed my arm before I could protest.

Before I knew what was happening, I was standing in the circle. Cirinwe was correct when she said we were both skinny enough, and also about having to squeeze in. We were pressed together like fish in a barrel, and I had to hold my tail in my hands to stop it from breaking the circle. As soon as we were in position the runes lit up, forming a circular wall of light around us. A voice began to whisper, though I was hearing it in my head rather than with my ears.

“I am Lorgren Benirus, and I desire the chance to atone for my sins.” The voice rattled through my skull. “The things I've done to the people of Anvil; the horrible, unspeakable acts I've committed demand repentance. Carahil was justified in her actions. Slaying me was the only way to stop the madness. I have accepted that fate. Now, so I may make my final peace with the Nine, please rejoin my hand to my body. Only then, when I am complete, will this eternal nightmare end." As the voice faded, so too did the circle, allowing me the chance to take a couple of steps back.

“It’s quite clearly a trap.” Said Cirinwe, her face slightly flushed.

“Yes. Though I suppose a trap isn’t a trap if you know it’s a trap.”

“That’s…true.” The Altmer agreed, almost smiling. “He’ll most likely attack us as soon as we give his hand back, so be ready.”
I nodded and raised my hand, causing Thiazzi to rumble into existence.

The storm atronach turned towards Cirinwe and let out a low growl, unsure of this new presence. The Altmer glanced at him, nodded in greeting, and then returned to her spell preparation. Thiazzi stopped growling immediately, almost shrinking away from her. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Once we were ready, Cirinwe placed the skeletal hand on the altar and quickly moved away.

A long, crackling laugh filled the room as the skeleton began to shift and change under a veil of green light.

Lorgren Benirus was here.

Posted by: Acadian Jun 3 2016, 10:01 PM

So they found Lorgren hiding in the cupboard indeed!

I loved how Haa-Rei had to hold his tail to keep from breaking the small circle.

Based on the laugh at the end, it seems Cirinwe was wise to suspect a trap and Haa-Rei prudent to ask Thiazzi to join them.


Oh, and I love your new screenshot of the month showing Haa-Rei’s armored guar mount. Very neat!

Posted by: hazmick Jun 10 2016, 01:57 PM

Acadian - If in doubt, summon an atronach



Previously - After learning more about Benirus Manor, our ghostbusters found the final resting place of Lorgren Benirus. Suspecting a trap, they prepared for a fight...

Chapter 33


The sickly green light that had enveloped the skeleton suddenly vanished, sending a foul smelling wave of energy through the air. The candles around the chamber went out, plunging it into darkness.

My night-vision, although nothing compared to that of a Khajiit, was sufficient to make out Lorgren’s new form as it slowly rose to its feet. The skeleton was now clothed, or as close to being clothed as a lich ever is. A red, moth-eaten robe hung from his bony shoulders, and the rotten remains of a doublet clung to his ribs. His hands were heavy with gold rings, and a golden crown adorned his head.

He raised a gnarled wooden staff into the air and slammed it to the ground, causing the candles to re-light with magical blue flames. His body now began to glow, so that he resembled the ghosts I’d fought earlier. His mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds before his voice filled the chamber once more.

"It never fails to amuse me how easy mortal man is to manipulate. You've assisted me in completing the very thing Carahil and her cabal sought to prevent all those years ago...my ascension to immortality.” He slammed his staff on the ground again, and two skeletons rose in front of him. “Last time I clashed with mortals, I underestimated their power. I shall not repeat that mistake twice. I live...again!” The skeletons jumped into action, their eerie hisses being drowned out by Lorgren’s maddening laughter.

Cirinwe wasted no time in attacking, knocking one of the skeletons off its feet with a ball of silver light. The undead’s bones were aflame with a ‘destroy undead’ spell, a particularly powerful restoration skill.

The second skeleton was dispatched by me. My arrow struck its sternum with enough force to become embedded in the old, dry bone. The arrow’s fire enchantment surged into the creature, causing it to collapse in a pile of smouldering bonemeal.

Thiazzi engaged Lorgren himself, sending a huge bolt of lightning crackling across the room. The lich seemed unimpressed, and simply absorbed the elemental magic with a powerful shield spell. Another wave of his hand summoned more skeletons, as well as resurrecting the one that I had ‘killed’. Cirinwe’s stayed down, even a lich can’t beat a master of restoration.

The battle continued to rage for several minutes. No magic could harm Lorgren, and his growing army of skeletons prevented me from getting a clear shot. Thiazzi had been backed into a corner, skeletons crawling all over his massive frame. It was Cirinwe who came up with the plan.
“I need 30 seconds.” She shouted over the din, retreating to the entrance of the room.

I nodded in reply, dropping another enemy with my second-to-last arrow and shouldering my bow. The skeletons were equipped with crude, rusted iron weapons. Perfect for bashing bonewalkers. I hefted a one-handed axe into a rough fighting stance and kept Cirinwe safe while she prepared.
There was no finesse to this fight. No fancy tricks or skill, just swinging an axe around and trying my best to stay on my feet. I could feel Thiazzi weakening, and hoped that my Elven companion was almost ready.

In answer to my hopes the skeletons in front of me suddenly exploded, their bones alight with silver flames. A whistling orb of light flew over my head, towards Thiazzi. The beleaguered atronach was enveloped in a veil of silver, and when it subsided he was standing unharmed and ankle deep in bones.

“Now, Haa-Rei, shoot Lorgren!” Cirinwe’s voice sounded weak, but I didn’t dare look back.

The iron axe clattered heavily to the ground as I drew my bow. I’d avoided using my last silver arrow until it was absolutely necessary, and now that time had come.

Even as I fired, the silver arrow wreathed in flame, more skeletons began to rise. Nothing interrupts a summoning spell quite like an arrow punching you in the ribs though, and the skeletons vanished before they’d even arrived. The flame enchantment set Lorgren’s dry robes alight, and the silver arrowhead broke his protective spell. Now it was Thiazzi’s turn.

The stone giant walked up to the burning lich as one would stroll through the woods on a sunny day. His massive stony hand wrapped around Lorgren in a grip that was literally bone crushing. Lightning magic coursed through Thiazzi’s body, and the Lich could do nothing to protect himself this time.

After another second or two, the charred remains of the lich were dropped back on the altar. I nodded my thanks to Thiazzi and dispelled him while Cirinwe approached the altar. I left my curiosity unsaid and simply watched as she began casting spells. Golden light leapt from her hands and enveloped the bones, so bright that I had to look away. The sound of Lorgren’s voice filled the chamber once more, but this time it was a wail of despair instead of mocking laughter. I’d later learn that this was a spell which destroyed the essence of an undead, thus preventing them from resurrecting.

Once it was over, the room darkened briefly before the candles relit themselves with a healthy orange glow. Even the darker corners of the room seemed lighter than before, and I noticed that my spines had finally stopped tingling. It felt almost…comfortable.

My brief respite was interrupted by Cirinwe. She’d begun to walk towards me, but her steps faltered and she collapsed onto the stone floor. I dashed over and saw that she had fainted from exhaustion, but was otherwise unharmed.

I remembered the spells she’d used during the fight and wondered just how much magicka she’d expended. Even a High Elf has her limits, and this one had surpassed hers.

Even though she was slightly taller than me, she was just as skinny and weighed very little. All the same, the muscles in my arms were burning by the time I carried her upstairs. She needed rest, and the only room that wasn’t full of dust and broken furniture was the bedroom in which we’d begun the evening.

I laid her on the bed and loosened her bodice slightly, relieved to see that her breathing had returned to normal. The room was pleasantly warm, no doubt thanks to Anvil’s climate, so I decided that she would be fine without any covers. I moved around the room, relighting candles with my terribly weak but incredibly handy flame spell.

With nothing left to do I simply sat on the floor and waited, book in hand.

What a night.

Posted by: Acadian Jun 16 2016, 12:58 AM

Dumb ol' Lorgran - underestimating those pesky mortals once again!

Nice team work of silver arrows, axe and magikelf. Oh, and Thiazzi!

Haa-Rei's spines deserve a nice rest from tingling and it looks like his job here is done.

Posted by: ghastley Jun 16 2016, 01:38 AM

Should be "I laid her on the bed, and ..."

Was Haa-Rei too excited to type properly?

Posted by: hazmick Jun 17 2016, 02:40 PM

Acadian - Indeed, some folks just don't have the good sense to stay dead. At least now someone can turn that crypt into a wine cellar or something.

ghastley - He had just assisted in the defeat of an undead abomination, so I think we can forgive a lay/lie/laid/lain mix up.




Previously - After an intense battle with Lorgren Benirus and his undead minions, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe emerged victorious but exhausted...

Chapter 34


The earthy scent of the potion filled my nostrils as I transferred the mixture from my makeshift alchemy station to the three small bottles that had been cleaned and prepared. Each bottle was made of thick, smooth glass which had been coloured black to avoid mistaking it for any other potions. A wolf’s head motif had then been engraved on the body of the bottle, and felt rough to the touch for easy identification in a hurry.

My alchemy station consisted of a pestle & mortar and an alembic, sitting atop a small oil burner. The pestle & mortar were my own, but the rest of the equipment was from a cupboard in the corner of the room. It was old, but usable.

I had also lit a small fire in the fireplace, and my iron kettle was hanging over it to keep warm. I was still in the bedroom of Benirus Manor, and had decided to restock my potions after finishing my book.

“Good morning” A quiet voice spoke up from behind me. Cirinwe was finally awake.

“Good afternoon.” I corrected her. “You’ve been asleep for thirteen hours.” I stood up slowly, my legs aching a little after kneeling down for so long, and made my way over to the fireplace.

The Altmer was quiet for a moment, then spied my alchemy set up and sniffed the air inquisitively.

“Smells like…wolfsbane and nightshade? An odd combination.” Even with my back to her I could almost see a raised eyebrow.

“Just…experimenting. It’s medicine.” I was hardly convincing, but she chose not to pursue it. “Anyway, I’ve brewed something else for you. Here.” I poured the dark red liquid into two cups, and took one over to Cirinwe.

“Thank you. What is it?” She sipped it experimentally, and winced as she scolded her tongue.

“Telvanni Tea. Made with Lotus, Acai Berry, and honey. As the name suggests, it is the favoured drink of Telvanni mages, and helps to recover magicka and stamina when they stay up all night to practice spells.” Even after drinking half a pot myself during the night, I was exhausted and thus prone to rambling. Fortunately my companion didn’t seem to mind.

“It's very nice. I wouldn’t have thought the Telvanni would be willing to share recipes like this.”

“They aren’t. I received the recipe as payment after helping a slave escape his Telvanni master.” The end of my sentence disappeared into a large yawn, which was in turn cut short as I spluttered out an apology.

“No need to apologise. When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Perhaps we should go to the inn for some breakfast…or lunch.” She’d framed it as a question, but finished her tea and made her way to the door to show that it was more of an order. I was happy to oblige. Even though Argonians don't require as much food as Elves, it had been several days since my last proper meal and I'd used a lot of energy during that time.

Cirinwe decided on lunch at The Count’s Arms, Anvil’s cleanest inn. The owner, an old Redguard by the name of Wilbur, spent several minutes talking to us about wines before he allowed us to order some food. I admired his passion, but I was also quite famished.

The meal itself was delicious. Roast chicken, seasoned liberally with a blend of herbs from the local area, a fresh loaf of bread with a crunchy black pepper crust, and a large bowl of salad drizzled with a traditional spicy Hammerfell dressing that I decided to avoid.

I was initially nervous about eating at such a high class inn, having spent most of my time either in the wilderness or the cheapest taverns I could find. As soon as I smelled the chicken, however, I decided that I was too hungry to care, and was pleased to see Cirinwe had had a similar thought.

After finishing our meal, Cirinwe asked Wilbur if he knew the whereabouts of her sister. As it turned out, Ailinwe had taken Lynette and Marie to the beach for the day. This meant that I had to wait in Anvil a little longer before I could receive my payment and be on my way.

The only issue was where I would stay. I couldn’t impose on my employers any further by sleeping in their house, The Count’s Arms was out of my price range, and the only other place with any spare beds was a dockside brothel. I was about to set off to find a good campsite outside the walls when Cirinwe interrupted my thoughts.

“If you’re looking for a place to stay, then why don’t you try the Guild?”

“The Guild?” I asked, slow to catch on. “The Mages Guild?”

She nodded. “I…might have read your file when Ailinwe hired you…” She looked embarrassed to admit it, but continued. “Even though you’re a low ranking member you can still use any spare beds at a guild hall.”

I decided to save any questions about the content of my ‘file’ for a later time, and we set off for the guild hall. Of course this was my second visit here, but I’d been so busy last time that I hadn’t really looked around.

It resembled any other mage establishment in Tamriel. Lots of blue and purple furnishings, alchemical and enchanting material, and books scattered around the large rooms. Mages were performing various activities, from reading to spell casting, and I felt quite at home but out of place all at once. I’d never really considered myself a mage, despite being a frequent user of conjuration magic, and I despised the idea of wearing a robe.

Regardless, I was a member of the guild, and I was here to rest. Cirinwe led me up stairs and along corridors until we came to one of the many bedrooms. Each room had two beds in, and enough room for two people to live there quite comfortably. This particular room was sparsely decorated, with heavy curtains keeping the room dark and cool. Several large stacks of books and scrolls were dotted around the floor.

“This is my room.” Cirinwe began. “The bed on the left is free, so you can use it whenever you please. I…apologise for the lack of furnishings. I don’t have many belongings.” She moved some books around so there was a clear path from the door to what was now my bed.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Cirinwe left me to my rest, going to conduct some 'guild business'. As soon as she was gone I took off my boots, dumped my pack on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed, allowing the soft sheets to envelop me.

I fell asleep almost immediately.

Posted by: Acadian Jun 17 2016, 08:23 PM

Telvanni tea? Oh, made by Telvanni’s not from them. Whew.

Haa-Rei seems like quite the capable alchemist. Cirinwe’s discerning nose implies she probably is also.

What a wonderful meal the intrepid pair of ghostbusters shared.

I’m so glad Haa-Rei learned that he can stay free at the mages guildhalls.

Posted by: ghastley Jun 17 2016, 09:17 PM

I wanna go pick myself some wolfsbane, now. Are the foreign ingredients from Morrowind (the game and the province)?

Of course, if he's in Anvil, he doesn't need to go to the dockside brothel. The better one is outside town, at least in my games.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 25 2016, 03:45 PM

Acadian - I find that tea made from Telvannis is a bit too bitter.

ghastley - Yep, Wolfsbane's from Morrowind (G and P). Heh, I think one Anvil escapade is enough for now.



Previously - Haa-Rei spent a day recovering from the Benirus Manor incident, and discovered that Mages Guild members can stay in guild halls for free. That's an offer he couldn't refuse...

Chapter 35

I awoke the next morning feeling well rested and eager to get underway. Hopefully I could conclude my business in Anvil and be on my way back to Chorrol by the day’s end.

Cirinwe’s room in the guild was cool and dark thanks to the heavy curtains that shielded it from the Gold Coast sun. I sat up in bed and stretched my sore arm muscles as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Cirinwe had gone to bed in the early hours of the morning, though she had decided to read rather than going to sleep. Sleep, however, did come for her, and now she was snoozing gently while sitting up in bed, a book on folk medicine resting on her lap.

I gathered my belongings and crept from the room. The rest of the mages guild was similarly sleepy, with many mages still in their pyjamas and night gowns as they headed to breakfast.

I didn’t relish the idea of eating porridge with the intellectuals of Anvil, so I made my way outside and headed for the docks.

As I expected, the docks were a hub of frantic activity. Sailors, fishermen, and merchants all dashed about, eager to conduct their business and be on their way. I watched a young boy cut the purse from a slim Breton’s belt before melting into the crowd. A burly Bosmer chased a small cat away from his fish stall, only for a gull to swoop in and steal a beakfull of eels.

“I didn’t expect to see you down here in the early morning madness.” A cheery voice called out from behind me. I knew it was Ailinwe even before I turned around to greet her.

“Just stretching my legs, looking for something to eat.” I could barely hear myself over the din, but Altmer’s ears are obviously not just for show.

“I know just the place. Come on.” Ailinwe’s voice cut through the noise as she turned and marched towards a small tavern.

“The Flowing Bowl?” I read the sign hanging over the door as we approached.

“Don’t let the name put you off.” The Altmer laughed and headed inside.

As one might expect from a dockside establishment with such a name, the Flowing Bowl was rather plain and smelled like ale. A gathering spot for seamen at night, it was quite quiet during the day. It was owned by a pair of Bosmer twins, one of whom worked the day shift while the other worked the night.

Ailinwe sent me to sit down while she ordered some food. I chose a table near one of the low windows, with a view of the docks and the sea stretching out into the distance. My Altmer companion joined me several minutes later with two steaming bowls.

“Here we are. I ordered a small one for you, since I know that Argonians don’t eat much.” I nodded as I accepted the smaller bowl, grateful for her consideration.

“Thank you. It looks surprisingly good.” I admitted. It seemed to be a leek and potato soup, with some sort of spiced meat added to it. A heel of black bread had been provided on the side.

“I’m glad I caught you,” said Ailinwe, breaking up her bread and dropping it to soak in the soup. “I wanted to thank you for helping us. Ciri told Lynette and I all about what happened at the house.”

“I’m glad I could help. It was certainly an interesting night.” I was trying my hardest to avoid dribbling soup on myself, with limited success.

“What did you think of her? Ciri, I mean.” Ailinwe’s tone was almost identical to the one she used when asking for my help before.

“She’s a very knowledgeable and talented mage, and a nice person.” I replied suspiciously.

“Yes, she is…but she needs to go.” What? Go? Go where? Does she mean...

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Wait, that sounded terrible. I mean that she can’t stay in Anvil. She needs to get out and see more of the world, rather than wasting away in the Guild Hall all day.” Ailinwe got straight to the point.

I was still confused, but now relieved that I wasn’t being asked to assassinate someone’s sister.

“I’m still not quite sure…” I said, trying to squeeze more of an explanation out of the Altmer.

“Right, I’ll explain. Back home in the Summerset Isles, Ciri was a student at a mage’s academy. Very prestigious, all the students were from great houses and expected to do great things. One day there was an…accident, I’m not sure of the details myself, but Ciri was kicked out of the academy. Our parents were furious, embarrassed that their firstborn child had failed, and disowned her. I went with her, going to High Rock and now to Anvil.” Ailinwe paused for a drink before continuing “She blames herself for my decision to leave home too. I’m happy here, I have a wife and a daughter, but it breaks my heart to see my sister like this. She used to be so cheerful, always making me laugh, but now she seems so…miserable. I just…I don’t know…I just think that if she had some time away, explored the world a bit, she might begin to heal a little.” She had tears in her eyes by the time she finished the story. There were a dozen questions that I wanted to ask, but I settled for asking just one.

“You want me to accompany her, yes?”

“Yes. I know it’s a lot to ask, especially after you’ve already done so much, and I understand if you say no, but please think about it.” She stared at me intently, though I’d already made my decision.

“Very well then, I’ll do it. I can take her as far as the Imperial City, but then I have business of my own to attend to.” I still had a job to do, after all.

“Oh, thank you! I’ll go and talk to her right away. Lynette should be at the house with your payment for the previous task. By the time that’s sorted, Ciri should be ready. Thank you!” Ailinwe ran around to my side of the table and embraced me in a large hug, lifting me off my feet ever so slightly.

I wasn’t sure that I should meddle in what was clearly quite a personal affair, but I wanted to help them as best as I could, and I’d be glad of the company. In any case, things were going to get more interesting from now on.

Posted by: Acadian Jun 27 2016, 07:22 PM

’As I expected, the docks were a hub of frantic activity. Sailors, fishermen, and merchants all dashed about, eager to conduct their business and be on their way. I watched a young boy cut the purse from a slim Breton’s belt before melting into the crowd. A burly Bosmer chased a small cat away from his fish stall, only for a gull to swoop in and steal a beakfull of eels.’
- - This is a wonderful Haa-Rie style description that, along with adding sounds in the next paragraph, gave us a wonderful feel for the busy morning dock.

I was really pleased to see that you brought Cirinwe to ESO. It matches well to what seems to be a growing role for her in this story.

Wonderful!

Posted by: hazmick Jul 4 2016, 04:26 PM

Acadian - The elves of ESO are the reason for Ciri's existence, they look great! Originally Haa-Rei was going to be travelling alone but...well, here we are.


Previously - Haa-Rei was invited to have breakfast with Ailinwe, who told him a little of her and Cirinwe's story. She also asked that he take Ciri with him on his adventures, and he graciously agreed to escort her as far as the Imperial City...

Chapter 36


"Thanks again," Shouted Lynette as I departed their house, reward in hand.

I'd been paid a rather small amount of gold in relation to such a large task, but it was still more than I'd asked for. I felt guilty about being paid by people who'd had such a rough time of things recently, but refusing a reward would likely offend them.

Cirinwe was nowhere to be seen, so I took my chance to resupply for my journey. I restocked my supply of dried meat at a butcher's stand near the marketplace, and bought a leather hood from a nearby tailor. I considered a visit to the smith to purchase a new sword, but decided against it. I'd be able to find better weapons for lower prices elsewhere on my journey.

After my brief shopping spree I took a seat on a bench in the marketplace to sew the hood onto my leather armour. I was wearing a shirt underneath so thankfully I didn't have to go topless while I conducted my rather messy needlework. I was just finishing up when I heard Cirinwe approach.

"You'd be a terrible surgeon." The Altmer remarked after seeing my sewing skills.

I couldn't think of a suitably witty reply, so I stowed my sewing kit in my pack and put my armour back on, testing the new hood. It sat nice and loose on my head, allowing me a good range of vision whilst keeping the sun and rain away. It would also help camouflage me and prevent my horns from getting caught in tree branches or cobwebs.

"Ready to go?" I asked, looking at my companion's equipment.

She had swapped her regular mage robes for the guild's green "travelling" variant, which featured a light armoured over-vest and leather attachments on the arms, as well as a leather hood. I also noticed for the first time that she wore bandages on her wrists and palms, as one would wear gauntlets. She carried her enchanted pack at her waist, and wielded a simple wooden staff in one hand.

"Lead the way" She said, taking one last look at her sister's house. This would be the first time she'd been away from Ailinwe for a considerable amount of time.

I headed out the main city gate, and could hear Cirinwe following behind. Even with my fast walking pace, her long Altmer strides soon caught up with me and we walked side by side. It took a further hour or so before she managed to find the right balance between walking slow enough to avoid overtaking me, and quick enough to avoid being left behind.

We walked in silence for the most part, content to simply enjoy each other's company and the Gold Coast countryside around us. It was a warm day, but not too hot. Rabbits darted through the scrub, avoiding the gaze of hawks that flew overhead. Mountain lions lazed around on a large slab of rock, content to let the world pass them by for now.

We had to stop to rest more frequently than I usually would. Every hour or so I'd hear Cirinwe's breathing getting heavier, and we'd pause long enough for her to catch her breath.

"Sorry," She sighed after we'd stopped for the third or fourth time "I'm not used to walking...anywhere."

"Don't worry about it. It gets easier." I handed her a strip of dried meat and looked around.

We were south of Kvatch, in a sheltered patch of trees just off the road. The sky was awash with pinks and oranges as the sun slowly crawled over the horizon.

"So that's Kvatch." said Cirinwe quietly.

The city could be seen quite clearly from our position. The smoke and fire had all died down, but there still seemed to be a sense of darkness coming from the grey walls. I wondered how long it would take for the people to rebuild.

"In any other circumstances," The Altmer continued, chewing slowly on a tough piece of venison, "I'd be quite excited to see an Oblivion gate." Her eyes had a very subtle glint of scholarly interest as she surveyed the city above.

Having encountered a gate of my own, I could sympathise with her mixed feelings. It was indeed a fascinating experience, but utterly terrifying if you stopped to think about it.

"I'm sure you'll get so see one on your travels." I reassured her.

"After hearing about Kvatch, I'm not sure I'd want to." We both fell silent, so I began to prepare a small fire.

"We'll camp here tonight, I think." After getting the fire going I unpacked my bedroll and teapot.

Cirinwe still hadn't moved. She was staring into the fire, one hand feeling the scarred flesh on her face. When she saw that I was watching she cleared her throat and began to unpack her own gear.

As I've mentioned before, elves need to eat quite regularly. Cirinwe prepared herself a light meal that consisted mainly of leaves and nuts, with some sort of pepper based dressing drizzled over the top. After her meal we shared some tea and spent the evening reading quietly, the silence broken only by the crackle of the campfire and the turning of pages.

I stayed awake long after Cirinwe had gone to sleep, planning our route to the Imperial City. It would be simple enough to follow the road through Skingrad and around Lake Rumare. From the Imperial City I could then travel alone to report back to the Grandmaster at Weynon Priory. I just hoped that he wouldn't mind that I was a couple of days late.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 4 2016, 09:35 PM

What a delightful day of travel as Haa-Rei and Cirinwe travel east, and Cirinwe figures out her walking pace and begins to develop her hiking lungs.

Kvatch affords a sobering reminder.

And what a wonderful evening, sharing tea around the campfire. I loved how the later part of the evening was marked primarily by ‘the crackle of the campfire and the turning of pages’.

And finally, a reminder of what Haa-Rei considers his bigger task and need to visit Weynon Priory.

Posted by: ghastley Jul 6 2016, 06:08 PM

The bedroll is optional, but the teapot is essential!

Posted by: mALX Jul 8 2016, 10:37 AM

Gaaaah, there is no marking on your chapters to refer to - this is for the initial amazing post:

Chapter 1:

AWESOME !!! The tongue-in-cheek red dragon theme that ran through it kept me laughing; but for the rest you have floored me with your ability to give these short descriptions that are so perfecty visualized!

Example: There was more hair on those brows than on the rest of his head.

That is a gift, I absolutely love your easy writing style! Awesome Write!


Chapter 2:

Holy Cow, your ability to draw a picture with just a few words is spectacular! I can't get over how easy you make the read feel; while conveying so much information that it feels like watching it unfold! You have a real gift!

Also, once again I was struck by the subtle humor underlying Haa-Rei's inner dialogue; I am loving this!

Your descriptions of the mob coming up to him at the end had me in stitches, I absolutely LOVE Haa-Rei's inner dialogue; he has an Awesome dry wit!

And the dubious bonus of a free room at Luther Broad’s Boarding House for your service to the Empire had me rolling! (Uh...thanks, Uriel!)

Excellent, excellent write !!!!!!!



Chapter 3:

I like how this mob "tests his metal" and approves him without him even saying he wants a part of their expedition!

The obedient storm atronach retreiving his sword for him was inspired; and Haa-Rei probably continued sipping his tea while the atronach lumbered toward the man,

You had me in stitches with this whole scene; and Haa-Rei's savoir-faire was just Awesome!

Ooh, a mystery! I wonder what the flash of yellow in his eyes means that he thought the girl would know/understand something about him from it? (unless it refers to his attraction to Sjöfn; was that what the yellow flash indicated?) I'm slow on the uptake sometimes,


My only nit so far: Please number your chapters so a person catching up can find where they left off! Excellent story and write!!!

Posted by: mALX Jul 8 2016, 01:36 PM

Chapter 4:


Two really great impressions right from the start were "the entire place smelled like slaughterfish" - fantastic line! I was immediatey immersed by that; and it has forever changed the thoughts I will have when walking through Weye! Of course it would; and now that you mention it = I would think the IC Waterfront would too; and intend to smell fish every time I go there as well! You have such a way with these descriptors slipped in; just a few words here or there that set a scene in a way a long detailed description never could; you have an amazing talent here!

The second is, "The one thing I’ve never missed about Cyrodiil is the rain." Perfect! Just perfect! And I agree,

Ooh, and some foreshadowing of trouble ahead!

Haa-Rei really shows his innate ability to survive here. Staying alive is a whole lot easier than keeping someone else alive!

OOh, really like the detail of the arrows on the ground; I never heard of anyone doing that before, but I've seen it done on those upper walkways of some towers in Cyrodiil!

Excellent Write and read !!!

Posted by: hazmick Jul 11 2016, 04:54 PM

Acadian - I imagine Ciri will learn a lot while she adventures with Haa-Rei, though she probably has a thing or two to teach him too.

ghastley - Never leave home without one!

mALX! - Welcome to the story! Very very happy to see you here, and even more happy to hear that you like it! I've added chapter numbers now, so it should be easier to keep up.


Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe set off from Anvil, and made camp near Kvatch. Next, their journey will take them to Skingrad...

Chapter 37



“Evenin’” The guardsman at the Skingrad gate greeted us with tired eyes and a friendly smile.

Cirinwe and I had been walking all day, and she was so tired that I thought she might fall asleep at any moment.

“Evening. Where can we find the mages guild?” I asked the guard, trying to pay attention to his sleepy but accurate directions. Cirinwe and I set off for the guild hall several minutes later.

The town of Skingrad is split into two separate parts, bisected by the main road which cuts straight through the middle. One part of town is made up of the chapel and housing districts, and the other side of town is where the guilds, traders, and other traveller-friendly spots are located.

The whole town is surrounded by tall, dark walls and the guards are well trained and well equipped. The surrounding countryside is perfect for growing grapes, and the tomatoes and cheeses of Skingrad are just as famous, and worth just as much money. Count Janus Hassildor, who rules Skingrad, is said to be a master sorcerer. He’s much loved and respected by his people, though none have ever seen him due to his reclusive nature.

The Mages’ Guild hall, like all Skingrad buildings, is a solid structure of grey stone with dark slates on the tall roof. Inside it is richly furnished with rugs, wall hangings, and display cases adorning the large rooms. Despite the building’s size, there were about half as many members here as in the Anvil guild.

The head of the guild hall, a Breton by the name of Adrienne, greeted us from behind a large stack of books as we introduced ourselves.
“An Associate?” She said, regarding my rank in the guild, “I suppose you’ll be wanting a recommendation.” She sighed heavily, clearly wishing to get back to her reading.

“Erm
yes, if it’s not too much trouble.” Truthfully I’d completely forgotten about recommendations, but since she’d brought it up


“I'm rather busy, you understand. My research occupies nearly all of my time.” She waved her hand vaguely at her books, “Now that I think about it, I do have a small problem concerning Erthor. He's one of the guild mages here. Think you can do something about it?"

“What’s the problem with Erthor?” I asked, hoping that she could give me a little more to go on than ‘a small problem’.

“I need to consult him on some notes he borrowed, but I can’t find him. You might want to ask around, and see if anyone can be of some help. Let me know when he's back, and you'll have your recommendation.” She picked up a book and turned away from me, indicating that the conversation was over.

“You need some help?” Asked Cirinwe, who’d been waiting patiently behind me.

“I think I’ll manage. Why don’t you get some rest?” I actually wouldn’t have minded the company, but the Altmer looked exhausted.

She opened her mouth to reply but a yawn came out instead, causing her to blush quite dramatically. She turned and headed to the mages quarters without another word.

My attempts to gather information met with limited success. The first person I questioned about Erthor, a balding Imperial called Sulinus, suggested that the missing mage could be found in ‘Beak Fat Cave’, though he couldn’t remember where it was.

I had a marginally more successful chat with Druja, an Argonian battlemage. She told me that Erthor works in ‘Bleak Flats Cave’, and marked it on my map.

The cave lay to the northwest of Skingrad. Far enough to be considered ‘out of the way’ but close enough for someone to commute easily between the cave and the town. When I arrived I found the door standing wide open, and the scent of rotting flesh heavy in the air.

I readied my bow and proceeded inside cautiously. Edging my way deeper into the tunnels.

The cave was
less than cosy. The walls and floor were bare of furnishings, though a healthy coating of wax indicated that there had been a great many candles here before they’d burned out. I encountered my first zombie shortly after entering the cave.

It shuffled aimlessly around the large cavern, its undead eyes staring uselessly into the darkness. Every so often, a sliver of rotten flesh would slide to the ground – this indicated that the zombie was created, rather than summoned.

A single arrow was enough to put it out of its misery, the body hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

The next room contained two zombies, and the first went down with similar ease. The second zombie, alerted by its comrade’s re-death, began to shuffle towards me with surprising speed. I hastily fired an arrow, which lodged itself harmlessly in an undead shoulder, and a second arrow which missed completely.

The zombie reached me, swinging its arms lazily but with surprising force. I attempted to move backwards but found myself being directed towards the cave wall, using my bow to block the creature’s attacks. A particularly strong blow caused the zombie to lose balance for a second, and I seized the opportunity to shove it away with all my might.

The zombie staggered backwards, tripped, and fell. A moment later an arrow slammed into its head, and it shuffled no more.

I let out a shaky breath and checked my bow for damage, fortunately finding nothing more than a light scratch. Once again I thought about how useful it would be to have a sword.

The rest of the cave was cleared without major incident, four more zombies being put to rest. A light coming from a small side passage drew my attention, and I proceeded carefully.

After a few feet, the passage opened into a small room. A mages guild banner hung on the wall, and a small bed had been constructed in the centre of the room. The most significant discovery was a Bosmer, huddled in the corner.

“Erthor?” I asked, causing the elf to practically leap out of his skin.

“Y-Yes! You...how did you get in here? Are those horrible creatures gone? I’ve been trapped for days!” He peered around me, into the passageway, making sure there were no undead behind me.

“The zombies are gone.” I confirmed, in a (hopefully) reassuring tone.

"Th-they're all gone? I can
I can leave the cave? Oh, thank you! I'm ever so grateful!” He jumped up and down a few times in excitement and bowed deeply to show his gratitude.

“Let’s get you back to Skingrad.” I said with a chuckle, leading Erthor out of the cave and into the clean night air.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 11 2016, 07:40 PM

A very accurate and concise description of Skingrad. Likewise, the guildhall and bookish guildmagister.

Beak Fat Cave!

After some tense but survivable zombie fightin’ Haa-Rei rescues the adorable little Erthor.

Posted by: ghastley Jul 14 2016, 10:01 PM

Be careful with Erthor; if he gets too excited, he might burst!

Posted by: hazmick Jul 15 2016, 04:18 PM

Acadian - I really like the aesthetic of Skingrad, straight out of a vampire novel.

ghastley - A common problem among Bosmer. Very messy.


Previously - Arriving in Skingrad, Haa-Rei was asked to find a missing mage as part of his guild recommendation. After battling some zombies and rescuing the mage Erthor, Haa-Rei returned to Skingrad...

Chapter 38



"A forest?" I said to myself, looking around.

I was indeed in a forest. The trees were slim and tall, a species of pine that I hadn't seen before. The ground where I stood was a soft carpet of moss, damp from rain and heavy with its scent. This scene stretched on in every direction, as far as I could see, with no visible landmarks or breaks in the terrain. I couldn't remember how I had come to be in this forest, or what I had been doing before arriving. I was simply there, accompanied by a vague sense of dread that seemed to creep around in the back of my mind.

Of course there is nothing quite like looking if you ever hope to find something, and with that in mind I set off in search of a river, or a road, or even a small hill from which I could get my bearings.

Rabbits dashed between thick ferns, while birds whistled through the branches. I paused as a small snake slithered past, and listened to a pheasant's harsh call somewhere in the distance. I was quite enjoying myself, truth be told, and decided that if I ever found out where 'here' was, I might return one day.

I resumed my walk, and soon found a rather interesting landmark. It was a stone. A very large stone, perhaps twice as tall and several times as wide as myself. It had been fashioned into a rough slab, and was standing upright in the centre of a clearing. One face had been etched with a series of runes which I couldn't read, but recognized as ancient Nordic. I'd seen similar carvings during my time on Solstheim, though I was almost certainly not on the island. The absence of any other stones nearby suggested that someone had placed the runestone here, though the moss growing on the stone suggested that they hadn't been back to maintain the site.

The sky overhead was growing darker, and the stone was the only thing I'd seen all day that could be used as shelter. I reached for my pack, to retrieve my bedroll, and found that it wasn't there. In fact my pack and bow were both absent, though I'd fortunately been left with my armour on. With nothing else to do, I gathered several bundles of twigs and broken branches and started a small fire. I tried to summon Thiazzi, but found the spell simply fizzled into the air. I was alone.

Night fell quickly in this forest, and soon enough it was dark as pitch. A large moon rose overhead and did its best to illuminate the night, but the thick trees blocked out much of the light. The vague sense of dread that I felt earlier was growing, and my spines tingled slightly.

Every so often a shadow would pass beneath a patch of moonlight, or rustle through the undergrowth just out of sight. I slowly rose to my feet and took a few steps back, bumping into the carved stone. At first I felt quite relieved to have the solid stone at my back, but then I felt it vibrate slightly, as if something was scratching it...or climbing it.

I craned my neck to look at the top of the stone, and saw the shadow. It was just a vague shape, silhouetted against the moonlight, but I could already smell what it was. It shifted slightly then leapt into the air. It sailed over my head and landed on the other side of the campfire, illuminated fully by the orange glow.

A large, muscular body, with enormous hands and feet which were almost human. Its dark skin covered entirely by thick brown fur, decorated liberally with brutal scars. Its head, lupine in nature, issued forth a snarl as the beast took a step toward the fire. It was a werewolf.

I urged my legs to run, which I believed to be the only thing to do in such a situation, but one leg had other ideas and struck out, booting the campfire and sending sparks and ash and burning twigs in a shower over the wolf. Then I ran.

I've never been a fast runner, certainly not fast enough to outrun a werewolf, but I ran anyway. I blundered through bushes and tore through tree branches. A howl echoed through the forest behind me and everything went red. At least, everything just looked red, as if someone had stolen a piece of stained glass from a chapel window and held it in front of the moon. The Bloodmoon. That was when I realised where I was - The Hunting Grounds of Hircine, Daedric Lord of the hunt and father of werecreatures.

"Xuth" I swore.

I ran on and on, and on again. My legs and lungs burned fiercely, but whenever I slowed down I heard a low growl behind me that spurred me forward. Every so often a shadow would appear to one side, steering me this way and that. I knew full well that I was being herded somewhere but there wasn't a thing I could do about it. The only thing I could do was run, swearing often and loudly.

Finally I came to a large clearing, bursting from the treeline and tumbling tail over scales onto the mossy ground. There were more werewolves in the clearing, about a dozen all standing in a circle. I wobbled to my feet as the circle opened and the scarred werewolf that I'd showered with embers stepped forward. Without a word he grabbed me by the neck, lifting me several feet into the air. My nose stung with the scent of singed fur.

"Join...us" It growled, before sinking its teeth into my shoulder.

Pain lanced through my body and I screamed. Then I woke up.



I was back in the Mages Guild in Skingrad, lying on the floor of the room which Cirinwe and I were sharing. My Altmer companion was kneeling on the floor next to me, one hand gently stroking my head. She ran a finger under my chin, causing me to reflexively open my mouth as all Argonians will, and poured a vial of my medicine down my throat.

I coughed and spluttered for a few seconds, and felt her hand move to hold one of my own.

"You should have told me..." She began, a tear rolling down the unscarred side of her face. "You should have told me that you were a werewolf."

"I'm sorry." I wheezed, my tongue struggling to work properly. "I'm sorry."

Posted by: ghastley Jul 15 2016, 04:53 PM

Whoah! Curve-ball!

B.b.b.but there aren't any werewolves in TES IV. All the others, though, so you're just fixing the omission.

And it's good to see that Ciri knows what to do.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 15 2016, 07:31 PM

By the horns of Hircine!

Nice job of storytelling. I almost suspected the Hunting Grounds about the time you revealed it. That Haa-Rei was being ‘herded’ also occurred to me only moments before it occurred to him. Waking from a dream made perfect sense, both surprising and pleasing me. As I said, nice job!

I was just getting over my relief at this being a dream when Ciri stated he really was a werewolf! Oh my!

As ever, I loved the little Argonian touches you use in Haa-Rei’s story like falling ‘tail over scales’ and autoreflexively opening his mouth when someone strokes under his chin.

Posted by: hazmick Jul 22 2016, 05:56 PM

ghastley - I always thought it strange that Cyrodiil has no were-beasties. Maybe they're just very good at hiding.

Acadian - I was stuck trying to think of an organic way to reveal it - if in doubt, do a dream sequence. Very glad to hear that it worked That chin reflex is mentioned in the Infernal City novel, and I absolutely love it.


Previously - Haa-Rei found himself dreaming of Hircine's Hunting Grounds, being pursued by werewolves. He woke to discover that he'd unwittingly revealed to Cirinwe that he himself was a werewolf...

Chapter 39



"I should have told you." I said, still on the floor of the Skingrad Mages Guild.

I was sitting cross-legged, a cup of tea nestled in my hands. Cirinwe was pacing back and forth in front of me. If I looked hard enough I could almost see a groove being worn into the floor.

"Yes," She replied bluntly, then paused, "though I can also understand why you didn't."

"I've never told anyone. Mostly because I'm...unsure how people would react" I explained, but Cirinwe carried on pacing.

"The medicine...that's what first gave you away. Hearing you talking in your sleep just now simply confirmed my suspicion," She nodded at the empty bottle that was still on the floor, "Wolfsbane is a very rare ingredient, though I'm not sure what it does."

"I see. The potion suppresses my Lycanthropy and prevents me from transforming. Wolves don't like Wolfsbane."

"So, you can't control your ability?" She asked, ceasing her pacing long enough to raise an eyebrow at me.

"No, but I'm fine as long as I have the medicine. I'm...sorry if I scared you earlier. You're quite safe though." I tried to reassure her, but the dream had quite frankly terrified the life out of me.

"I wasn't scared of you, I was scared for you. Thrashing around and screaming like that. It's a good thing the guild puts a muffling enchantment on their rooms, otherwise you'd have woken the whole town." She sighed and moved over to the window, opening it to allow a strong breeze into the stuffy room.

"Oh...well...thank you...I'll be fine though." I said again, unsure what else to say.

"Clearly you are not fine, unless that dream was something you consider normal."

"Well no, I suppose not." I admitted.

"There we are then. We'll just have to find a solution." She clapped her hands together, signifying that she'd made her decision. Quite what she had decided on was still unclear to me.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

"Well I assume you don't wish to cure your Lycanthropy, otherwise you'd have done so already. We'll just have to find a way to allow you to control it beyond the medicine."

"You mean...you still want to travel with me?" I couldn't hold back my surprise. I always assumed that people's reaction to my condition would involve a lot more pitchforks and flaming torches and brand new wolf-skin rugs.

"Of course. If you were going to devour me in my sleep you'd have done so already, and I want to help."

"Thank you," I replied quietly. "So...do you have any ideas?"

"Not yet," She admitted, "but I'm sure we'll be able to think of something. First, I want to hear how you were infected. That might shed some light on your condition."

"Right, yes, well..." I began.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several months earlier, somewhere in Solstheim.

"Haa-Rei, you sure you don't want any of this Flin? Nothing better to warm you up on a night like this." Asked Calgus, holding up a pale clay flask.

"No thanks, Cal. The fire is doing a fine job of keeping me warm." I said, shivering slightly despite being right next to the campfire. Solstheim was always cold, but tonight seemed especially chilly.

"How come you never offer me any?" Asked Azlakha, who had spent the best part of the evening sharpening and polishing her sword until the blade seemed to shimmer with energy. She often said that an Orc's weapon is their most prized possession.

"Because I know you'll say yes." Replied the Imperial, causing us all to chuckle.

We'd set up camp in a dell, sheltered on all sides by pine forest. The ground was thick with snow, which seemed to have been falling constantly over the past few days. The three of us, a team of scouts, had been assigned to the island for a little over two weeks, though we'd been together since our training in Morrowind almost three months ago.

"How can you have any left? You've been drinking out of that jar since we left the fort." I asked to take my mind off the biting cold. We'd left Fort Frostmoth 2 days ago, and Calgus had spent nearly the whole journey with the jar to his lips.

"He's right. For someone with such a big mouth you seem to take an awful long time to finish a drink." Azlakha joined in.

"I'm savouring the flavour. I wouldn't expect you two savages to understand." Calgus did his best to look wounded and took another sip.

"Hey," Said Azlakha after a long pause, "You think we'll find any?"

"Werewolves? I don't know. That miner from Raven Rock swears that he saw one though." I replied.

Several weeks earlier, Fort Frostmoth had been attacked by werewolves. The situation had apparently been resolved, though only the highest ranking soldiers had been told what the situation actually was. All we knew was that any and all werewolf sightings had to be investigated, as per a new Legion directive.

"You scared, Az?" Asked Calgus. "I once saw you punch a Dwemer Centurion, and you're scared of some wolves?"

"Only a half-wit like you wouldn't be a little nervous about fighting werewolves. Don't worry though, Cal, I'll still protect you if we do see any." She stretched out a foot and gave the Imperial a sharp kick on the shin to show him that his banter was approaching the line between playful and insulting.

"It might be nothing though. The miner probably had one too many pots of sujamma and started seeing things. We'll be back at the fort in no time" I tried to reassure her, though it wasn't very convincing.

"You're always so nice, Haa-Rei. If you were at all interested in that kind of thing I'd ravage you on the spot." The Orc joked, flashing me a toothy grin to lift the mood.

"Thanks Az. That means a lot." I replied, only for my words to be drowned out by Calgus giggling in the background. Several seconds later he received a snowball to the face, and soon all three of us were engaged in chilly warfare. Three brave Legion soldiers laughing and playing in the snow. In the distance, a wolf howled.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 22 2016, 11:51 PM

’It's a good thing the guild puts a muffling enchantment on their rooms,’ - - Brilliant! Who knew the nocturnal activities of mages were so noisy!

"If you were at all interested in that kind of thing I'd ravage you on the spot." The Orc joked, flashing me a toothy grin to lift the mood. - - Now that would be noisy!


As Cirinwe reacts to Haa-Rei’s lycanthropy, her true colors show – and they are beautiful indeed. Haa-Rei is lucky to travel with her.

Oh neat! We’re going to learn how wolf and lizard became one. I look forward to reading more.

Posted by: hazmick Jul 31 2016, 11:08 PM

Acadian - But of course, everything in a guild hall should be enchanted. Muffled walls, self cleaning facilities, heat enchantments on the carpets. As for the proclivities of mages...no comment.


Previously - After a surprising reaction from Cirinwe regarding his lycanthropy, Haa-Rei began to tell the story of his time in Solstheim...

Chapter 40



"I hate snow." Complained Calgus loudly. It was the fourth time he'd voiced such a complaint since we'd woken up just after dawn.

Azlakha mumbled something about Imperials under her breath but otherwise said nothing and continued to lead us through the snow, ploughing ahead with incredible strength and speed. I followed behind her like a dolphin following a ship, using the path she'd cleared rather than fighting through the elements myself. Calgus followed closely behind me.

I didn't echo the Imperial's sentiments. The snowy landscape was breathtakingly beautiful, and was constantly shifting and changing as snow drifts piled up and were blown around by the bitter wind. Only the trees seemed able to resist, towering above us and occasionally shrugging great waves of snow off their evergreen branches. Most animals seemed to be in hiding, though I spotted the vague shape of an enormous snow bear in the distance, its thick layers of fat and fur no doubt keeping it warm.

At around noon the snow began to ease up, and was soon no more than a light dusting of lazy snowflakes. The three of us took a break, and the other two had lunch while I studied the map. I knew it like the scales on my hand, but it never hurt to keep the memory fresh.

"How can you even tell where we are?" Asked Calgus with a mouthful of bread. "Everywhere looks the same." There was a reason that he wasn't the lead scout - growing up in the Imperial City had done him no favours with regards to exploration or pathfinding.

"I saw a barrow about an hour ago, which means we're roughly...here." I jabbed the map with a claw at our approximate location. We were making slow progress due to the snow, and any hopes of tracking our quarry had been dashed. We'd decided that we'd go as far north as the crashed airship, which lay at the base of the Moesring Mountains, and then head back if we didn't find anything.

"We should make better progress now that the snow's eased up." Azlakha said almost cheerfully.

We resumed our journey after the others had eaten, once again Azlakha took the lead and cleared the path. As the snows receded, animals came out of hiding. White hares darting between cover, small birds singing to each other from high in the pine trees. A sleek grey wolf loped alongside us for a while but eventually melted back into the forest, off to find easier prey no doubt.

We carried on heading north and soon found the remains of the airship. Apparently it was an old Dwemer design which a scholar of some sort had brought to life. After flying all the way from Ald'ruhn it had crashed at the base of the mountains. I found the whole thing fascinating, and was looking forward to inspecting it further once we arrived. I could see the golden gleam of Dwemer metal poking through the snow even from a distance, the light of the setting sun illuminating it before dipping below the horizon.

Azlakha stopped suddenly, almost causing me to walk right into her. I looked around for signs of anything suspicious, then received help from Calgus, who was pointing towards a cluster of trees. A large shape moved between the tree trunks, difficult to make out at first.

It was tall, taller even than Azlakha who stood about two heads higher than me. It was also quite broad at the shoulders, with long arms that almost reached the floor. It turned to one side briefly, allowing me to see the outline of its head. A wolf's.

The sound of Azlakah drawing her sword rang out through the gloom, catching the creature's attention. It let out a long, hollow howl as Calgus and I readied our weapons.

At first it seemed to hesitate, moving forward slowly, if at all. As it drew closer it began to move faster, dropping down onto all fours. As it broke into a sprint I became aware of two other shapes behind it. The howl had been a call to its pack.

Azlakah let out a roar and strode forward to meet the beast, sword arcing through the air in a flash of silver. It struck the werewolf straight on the skull with a crunch, sending it skidding to the ground. Seeing one of the beasts fall gave Calgus a huge boost to his morale, and he too moved to engage, though he had two foes rather than one.

I fumbled with my bow, fingers numb, and fired at one of the werewolves. The arrow slammed into its shoulder, staggering it slightly but not killing it. A second arrow soon followed, finding its way into the wolf's chest, bringing it down.

I turned my attention to Cal, who had just bashed a bony brown werewolf with his heavy Imperial shield. The beast recovered quickly and attacked again with its wicked claws. Cal blocked again and again, lashing out with his sword now and then. The wolf began to slow, bleeding from several deep cuts. Cal dodged a slow swing, causing the wolf to overbalance slightly. Imperial steel struck home, finishing the beast.

More werewolves began to appear, some attacking while others crept around just out of sight. Azlakah had slain another two, and my arrows had brought down one more. The werewolves began to focus their attentions on Calgus, who was tiring quickly.

Azlakah moved to help him, but two more wolves blocked her path, and yet more came for me. I'd fallen into a good rhythm with my bow, but the sheer number of wolves meant that they were getting closer and closer.

A scream from Cal drew my attention, and I looked up just in time to see an enormous white werewolf tossing the Imperial's corpse aside like a rag doll. A low growl from behind was the only warning I received before a large black paw swung towards me. I tried to duck and turn at the same time, which meant that I dodged the attack but fell flat on the floor. The werewolf attacked again and I flinched, closing my eyes, but the blow never came. I heard a yelp and opened my eyes to find Azlakah towering over me, pulling me to my feet.

"Run! I'll distract them." She shouted, shoving me away.

"You'll die if you do." I pointed out helpfully.

"We'll both die if you stay, and Orcs don't run." She smiled sadly and turned back towards the werewolves.

"Xuth!" I swore loudly and ran.

I remember thinking about stories of heroes, who bravely faced down impossible odds and always triumphed, and wondered if they had ever fought a pack of werewolves in the snow. I hadn't made it very far when the sounds of battle behind me stopped abruptly. I knew that the werewolves' attack had cost them dearly, and the thought gave me a grim sense of satisfaction. I was reminded of the wolf I'd seen earlier, which had wisely decided against attacking us.

I was breathing hard, and couldn't run much further. The werewolves would catch up with me, and I'd die too. The thought was annoying more than anything. My friend had given her life to allow me to escape, and the werewolves were going to mar that sacrifice by running me down like a snow hare. No. I'm not a snow hare.

I stopped and turned abruptly. The werewolves were closer than I'd realised, and they too had stopped. There were six left, including the large white one who I took to be the pack leader. It wore a strange necklace of rope and iron around its neck. Despite the situation I found myself marvelling at the sheer power of the creature. It stood tall and proud, confident in its own strength, white pelt almost invisible against the snow. Its eyes were sharp and bright, full of intelligence and awareness. The wolves around it seemed less intelligent, or at least more bestial in nature. Perhaps stories about people turning into werewolves and being lost to blood lust was true.

At a gesture from the pack leader, two wolves sprung forward. The first fell almost immediately, my arrow in its eye. The second made it much further, falling by my feet. Too late I realised that they were a distraction as the white one appeared beside me, grabbing my neck with an impossibly large paw.

It lifted me off my feet to bring my face up to its own. Now that I was closer I could feel the heat coming from its body and see the spark of humanity in its eyes. This was no mindless beast, but a man or woman who was fully aware and in control.

I felt angry. Wolves hunt for food, even werewolves, but this was someone using their power purely for their own enjoyment. I lashed out in a futile act of defiance and kicked the beast as hard as I could. It was like kicking a particularly warm rock, and just as effective.

The beast began to splutter, then I realised that it was laughing. To my complete surprise it began to speak:

"You'll do nicely." Its voice was like a landslide, with a thick Nord accent. Then it bit me.

Pain exploded in my shoulder as the creature's jaws tore through my leather armour and fur under-clothes. The air escaped my lungs in one large gasp. The wolf withdrew from my shoulder and stared at me for a few moments with a spark od satisfaction in its eyes, its muzzle now dyed red. Suddenly its ear twitched and I was dropped onto the snow.

I could hear the werewolves growling, then I heard a horrific shriek. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the werewolves turning tail and running.

Posted by: Acadian Aug 1 2016, 12:10 PM

How very Haa-Rei that he sees the breathtaking beauty in the heavy snow that impedes their progress as he notes the bunnies, bears and evergreens shedding snow.

Speaking of breathtaking, that quite describes this battle with the werewolves. The orc fell bravely indeed.

For some reason, it seems the white werewolf selected Haa-Rei. What is it that could have interrupted them at the end of this episode?

What an interesting aspect of Haa-Rei this all opens up!


Nit: ’The wolf withdrew from my shoulder and stared at me for a few moments with a spark od {of?} satisfaction in its eyes,’

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Aug 1 2016, 06:16 PM

Oh. My. I didn't see that coming. Haa-Rei is a werewolf. I must look back to see if anything hinted at this. You caught me completely by surprise. Glad Cirinwe was at least bit concerned, but nonetheless understanding in his position and condition. You left us with a nice cliffhanger in the last episode, and showed his time in Solstheim here, and possibly how he acquired the gift(or curse) of lycanthropy.

A pack leader. Many times these have greater willpower than their packmates, I think. He's in trouble.



Funny how Hircine's beasts not only kill to survive, but have a sense of enjoyment. Being the Sport of Daedra and all, I guess many of these lycanthropes find hunting thriling. When that thrill extends to actual people, well, that's when things get scary.

Great chapter, and what a thrill. Azlakah's sacrifice was well-noted, and she fought as any brave Orc would have, yet it did not stop the pack leader from selecting Haa-Rei . . . which has me wondering why exactly was he chosen. Hmm.

Posted by: ghastley Aug 1 2016, 07:03 PM

And, probably as intended, I'm left wondering why Haa-Rei was selected to become a werewolf. And whose choice it was.

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Aug 1 2016, 08:01 PM

Can't wait for the next chapter!

Posted by: hazmick Aug 5 2016, 03:27 PM

Acadian - Solstheim is a beautiful place. When I first played the Bloodmoon expansion I spent hours just wandering around the forests.

DE - Glad you enjoyed it! All shall be revealed 'soon'.

ghastley - A good question. Who knows, maybe the werewolf simply likes the taste of lizard.



Previously - We continued with the tale of Haa-Rei in Solstheim. He and his companions were attacked by werewolves, and after the others fell in battle Haa-Rei was bitten by the werewolf leader...

Chapter 41



I'm alive. Not an unusual thought for one to think, but there it was, and considering the situation I counted myself quite fortunate. After sliding in and out of consciousness a few more times I finally woke up.

I was lying on something soft, a pelt of some sort. Above me was a ceiling of compressed snow. A snow cave?

As my senses returned to me I became aware of another person in the cave. They smelled odd, as if they were wearing layers of scent - the top layer was a strong perfume of lavender, but underneath that was a scent that I hadn't encountered before but made me uneasy.

"You're awake at last." Said the stranger. It was a womer's voice, with the familiar tone of a Dunmer. If she wasn't in a cave on Solstheim I'd have assumed from her voice that she was a member of Dunmer high society, perhaps one of the great houses.

"It seems that way," I replied, sitting up slowly despite the room spinning slightly. "where am I?"

"Ah, pardon my manners. You are in the home of Trivea Hlecathe - adventuress, rogue, and lover of fine wine. That's me." The stranger turned as she introduced herself.

She was indeed a Dunmer, with skin like ash and eyes the colour of a sunset. Her snow white hair had been thrown into a messy ponytail which she wrestled with as she spoke. Her features were sharp, even for a Dunmer, like a particularly beautiful bat. An odd thought, but there it was.

"Well met. I am Ha-" I began, but was interrupted.

"Haa-Rei, Legionary of the Imperial Legion, fellow adventurer, and lover of fine tea. I read your journal while you were unconscious in my bed." She flashed me a smile and turned back to the alchemy station that she'd been working at.

"What...what happened? The others...?" I decided to ignore the Dunmer's breach of my privacy, since she'd seemingly saved my life.

"Dead, I'm afraid. You were attacked by a pack of werewolves. You did a rather impressive job of it, if I'd arrived a few minutes earlier I might have been of more help. As it stands, I could only save you...mostly." The last word was mumbled, but I could still hear even over the sounds of alchemy concoctions fizzing and bubbling. Everything was suddenly quite loud.

"Mostly?" I asked, trying to think of something other than my comrades.

"Well you're alive, which is good, but you've also been bitten, which...well it depends on your point of view." She shrugged.

"Bitten? You mean I'm going to become a werewolf?" I asked, surprised at how calm I was.

"Actually you've already turned. I could have cured you if you'd been awake, but you've been unconcious for four days."

"That's...wow...I don't feel like a werewolf." I studied my hands for signs of fur, but all scales were accounted for.

"Being a werewolf isn't all about the wolf form, which is currently being supressed by the conconction I've been feeding you. You'll notice a few subtle changes even in your Argonian form - better sense of hearing and smell, enhanced stamina and a reduced need to sleep." Trivea explained, pouring some of the mixture she'd been brewing into a potion bottle.

"I see. Well, thank you." I wasn't sure exactly what was happening. I'm a werewolf, but I'm not a werewolf. Does that mean I'm just a were?

"You're not just any old werewolf either," Trivea continued, coming to sit down in a chair next to the bed. "You were bitten by the pack master, which means you are also a pack master." There was a hint of excitement in her eyes, but I was even more confused.

"I don't know what that means."

"I'll try and explain. Like normal wolves, werewolves follow a strict hierarchy. At the bottom are the weakest wolves, I call them the omegas, who are turned after contracting Sanies Lupinus. They can't control their transformations and almost always end up being consumed by bloodlust, and are the weakest but most numerous werewolves." She paused, allowing me to take it all in, before continuing, "Above them are the beta wolves, who are either born werewolves or bitten by another beta. These wolves can learn to control their transformations which allows them to live relatively normal lives in civilised places. Then we have the alpha wolves, or pack leaders. By far the most uncommon, but potentially very powerful. Those who are given the gift of Lycanthropy directly from Hircine, or bitten by another alpha. They can control other werewolves, have mastery over their own powers, and are thought to be immortal. Werewolf social structure is remarkably similar to that of vampires, though we're both demi-Daedra so it's hardly surprising." Trivea sighed and flopped back in her chair, clearly finished with this lesson.

"You...certainly know a lot about werewolves." I said, unable to think of anything else worth saying. It was a lot to process for someone who had spent four days in a state of unconsciousness in a cave.

"Yes, well, one should know what one's enemies are before one wipes them from the face of Nirn." The Dunmer replied almost poetically.

"You don't like werewolves?"

"I have nothing against them, against you, but this particular pack has been causing trouble and needs to be dealt with before it gets out of hand." She looked suddenly serious. My 'about to get asked to do something dangerous' instincts were practically ablaze.

"You need my help?"

"I'm afraid so. I can deal with the pack leader by myself, but I can't face it and the rest of the pack. Your skill with a bow is just the edge I need." She illustrated her point by mimicking a bow firing action.

I thought about it for a few seconds. It would undoubtedly be dangerous, but it was a chance to avenge my friends and potentially save more lives. I was also a little curious about the whole situation. I nodded to Trivea to show my agreement.

"Excellent!" She clapped her slender hands and flashed me another sharp smile before beginning her preparations. Time to go hunting.

Posted by: ghastley Aug 5 2016, 03:39 PM

"Werewolf social structure is remarkably similar to that of vampires, though we're both demi-Daedra so it's hardly surprising." Hmm....

Posted by: Acadian Aug 5 2016, 10:57 PM

Oh, this is really getting interesting as the mystery deepens!

’It was a womer's voice, with the familiar tone of a Dunmer.’ - - I applaud your choice of referring to her as a womer instead of woman. That is not a term that I use in my own fiction but it certainly makes perfect sense. Heh, I do occasionally use the term mermaid to similar effect.

’My 'about to get asked to do something dangerous' instincts were practically ablaze.’ - - This is not only funny and true but is also so very Haa-Rei!

What ghastley said! And to make things more interesting Trivea is a Dunmer – heck they pretty much all have red eyes sort of like vampires. A particularly beautiful bat indeed!


Couple small spelling errors:
- “I could have cured you if you'd been awake, but you've been unconcious for four days." - - unconscious
- “...which is currently being supressed by the conconction I've been feeding you.” suppressed, concoction

Posted by: hazmick Aug 13 2016, 03:20 PM

ghastley -

Acadian - Mer and Womer is used a lot in ESO, particularly in Elven areas like Valenwood and Morrowind. Mermaid is a great one though!



Previously - After waking up in a snow cave, Haa-Rei met the mysterious Trivea Hlecathe, who revealed that Haa-Rei was now a werewolf, and gave him a short lesson on lycanthropy before requesting his assistance...

Chapter 42



We set off two hours later. Outside the snow cave the world was pure white. A blizzard had blown over while I'd been asleep, leaving enormous snow drifts and a few toppled trees in its wake.

According to Trivea, her cave was only a mile or so west of the crashed airship, but I doubted that I'd be able to find it again. The small entrance was covered by the hide of a great white snow bear, famed for their camouflage coats.

I stretched my limbs slowly after I emerged from the cave. My body felt heavy and cold. Conversely, Trivea practically glided over the snow, her steps leaving only a faint indentation. I could feel an aura of excitement emanating from her as she took the lead and we began to head north.

The werewolves had made their lair in an old cave system near the northern coast, so we were to go there and hit them hard and fast. My companion would deal with the pack leader while I distracted its pack. I admit that Trivea's excitement was quite contagious, and I could feel the energy coursing through my body.

My newly enhanced senses were constantly alert. I could hear a mouse somewhere nearby, digging its way out of the snow that had drifted over its burrow. The occasional 'whoomph' as snow began to melt and slide off tree branches accompanied the usual chorus of bird song. I could smell half a dozen different creatures nearby, but I couldn't see any.

"You'll get used to it." Smiled Trivea, who was watching me sniff the air with a mix of enjoyment and almost understanding. "With practice, werewolves can pinpoint specific scents or sounds from quite a distance."

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked after a pause. The Dunmer nodded and continued walking. "What brought you to Solstheim? The only people you see here are soldiers, Nords, and werewolves."

"I was hunting a vampire and his trail led me here. I've stayed for too long already but someone needs to deal with these werewolves, and I doubt anyone else on the island is strong enough." Her answer left me with even more questions, but I didn't want to be rude. Now it was her turn to ask. "How do you feel about vampires, Haa-Rei?"

"I...have nothing against them I suppose. I'm not sure I've ever met one." Honestly it wasn't something I'd ever thought about. Vampires of course have an inherently bad reputation, but so do werewolves. Perhaps it was worth thinking about.

If Trivea had an opinion on my answer, she chose not to share it. Instead she filled the time on our journey with random chatter on subjects like wine, her favourite book, and an anecdote about a Khajiit shoe thief. I remained mostly silent, occasionally contributing a noncommittal noise or chuckle where they were required. We moved at an incredibly fast pace, and arrived at the entrance to the werewolf lair shortly before dusk.

The mouth of the cave was about twice my height, and several times my width. The ground around it showed signs of regular passage with both human and wolf tracks. Even without my enhanced senses I would have been able to smell the heavy scent that emanated from within.

"Right. You know the plan. Are you ready?" Trivea asked, drawing two wicked looking daggers from their sheaths. We'd been over the plan several times on the way here.

"Ready." I nocked an arrow to my bow and took some deep breaths.

"One last thing. Whatever you see in there, don't try and help me. Just keep the other wolves busy." The Dunmer didn't say any more, and strode into the cave with more confidence than I thought possible.

Here we go, I thought to myself and followed her in.

The inside of the cave was warm and dark, and I almost felt comfortable as I followed Trivea. Neither werewolves or Argonians are famed for their night vision, but I could follow my companion's scent easily enough. She had no problem navigating the winding caves, and I assumed she had some spells or enchanted equipment that allowed her to see clearly.

The first werewolf that we encountered went down without so much as a whimper. He was in human form, and busying himself with carving a human shin bone with ornate patterns. Even though he wasn't in wolf form I could smell that he was a werewolf. I could instinctively tell that he was a young Nord male just from his scent. I tested the air to see if I could smell any other information but there were so many different scents that I couldn't pick anything specific out at this range.

Two more werewolves fell a few minutes later. One with an arrow through her chest and another from Trivea's frightfully efficient daggers. I almost pitied whatever vampire she was hunting.

From deeper within the caves I could sense the pack leader. My instincts wanted me to challenge him, but I resisted them and continued to follow Trivea. She had become more tense, as if she could sense him too. Even from a distance I could feel his strength and power, and my shoulder throbbed slightly as if the wound was reacting to him.

Four werewolves in the next cavern. The first two died silently from our combined attacks, but not silently enough. Already in wolf form, the two survivors split up - one attacked while the other ran for it. The attacker went down quickly thanks to Trivea, but the runner managed to escape after my arrow glanced past him and ricocheted off the cave wall. A low howl echoed through the tunnels, indicating that we'd been discovered.

"Now it's getting interesting." Smiled Trivea.

Posted by: Acadian Aug 13 2016, 06:43 PM

I love the way you showed us Haa-Rei's improved senses as he walked through the snow.

More answers and more mysteries from Trivea! Well, a womer's entitled to her aura of mystique.

So far so good, but it looks like things are going to get crowded and dangerous very quickly now.

Posted by: ghastley Aug 15 2016, 02:14 PM

Haa-Rei, you need to run away now!! Especially if she Smiled with a capital S.

Posted by: hazmick Aug 19 2016, 04:21 PM

Acadian - You know how it is, all the best loot and toughest enemies are at the back of the dungeon

ghastley - Ah c'mon, what's the worst that could happen?



Previously - The two companions made their way toward the werewolf lair, and Haa-Rei started getting used to his enhanced senses. After finding the lair they made a good start, but more trouble lurks ahead...

Chapter 43



We moved through the tunnels faster than before, not a werewolf in sight. Usually I'd consider an absence of werewolves to be an ideal situation, but at that particular moment it was nothing but worrying. The more wolves we didn't fight out here, the more wolves we'd have to fight later. That 'later' came all too soon, as we arrived at the entrance to an enormous cave. The scent of werewolves was at its strongest here, though the row of human skulls above the door was also a good indicator that this was where we'd find the leader.

Trivea held up a hand to order a stop, and we fell back several feet. She nodded at me with a glint of excitement and silently handed me a scroll before making her way back to the cave.

The scroll was a spell that would allow me to summon a storm atronach, which would no doubt come in handy. I myself could only summon Eithne the flame atronach, who had little in the way of combat ability.

I could now hear Trivea's voice coming from the chamber, and scrambled to get there. She was speaking loudly in the local Nordic tongue, which I had no understanding of, and around her was a large group of werewolves with the huge white pack leader at its head.

More words were exchanged, and the pack leader let out a loud barking laugh. Even though Trivea was half its size, she was standing as nonchalantly as one might if they were facing down a mudcrab or a baby skeever. After another exchange, the wolf nodded and then turned to look at me.

Even from across the dark cave I could see the red swirls of rage that were its eyes. The creature's very presence was like a force of nature, suppressing my ability to do anything but stand and shiver slightly. It grinned before turning to the wolves to either side:

"Send that one to the Hunting Grounds." it commanded in growling Cyrodilic, and its comrades sprang into action. At the same moment, Trivea lashed out in a flurry of attacks, which the wolf parried with its long claws.

I turned my attention away from them, to the more pressing danger. Almost a dozen werewolves were advancing towards me, and I immediately regretted that I wasn't a swordsman.

Trivea trusted me though, so I couldn't run. Instead, I unrolled the spell scroll and tossed it on the ground. Lightning crackled in the space above the scroll and the very air itself seemed to rip and tear open as the storm atronach appeared. Without needing a command it lobbed a ball of crackling light into the mass of werewolves, killing one outright and knocking three others back. Sensing the greater threat, most of the wolves moved to attack the summoned creature and left four to attack me. I loosed an arrow and brought one down straight away, slowly walking backwards as I did so in an attempt to give myself more room.

A second werewolf fell at my feet, and I raised my bow to block the incoming swipe from a third. As I did so the cave echoed with a horrifying screech, and everyone's attention was drawn to the duel which had been going on nearby. The pack leader was covered in dozens of cuts, and one of Trivea's daggers had embedded itself in the thick white pelt. Even so, the werewolf looked plenty strong enough. Trivea was likewise covered in injuries, and had gone down on one knee. The pack leader took a step forward, no doubt to finish his opponent, but stopped in his tracks. My spines tingled as a wave of power surged through Trivea and she transformed.

She was as tall now as the pack leader, but otherwise quite his opposite. Her skin was black and leathery, her armour replaced by ancient looking robes and ornate jewelry. Her features looked similar in this form as in her Dunmer form, but the bat-like nose and teeth were much more pronounced, and her ears were almost twice as long. From her back sprouted two wings, which looked too small for flight but nevertheless seemed to give her the ability to float a foot or so from the ground. A spell glowed in each hand, swirling reds and greens around long talons. She was terrifying.

The momentary lapse of concentration was over, and the fighting resumed with the same fury as before. I was quick enough to block one, two, three blows from a werewolf to my left, but this served as a distraction which prevented me from seeing the werewolf to my right. Pain shot through my side very briefly, and then I went numb. I looked down dumbly at the werewolf's hand, which had lodged itself in my abdomen, and felt my consciousness slipping away.

No, not slipping away. Moving aside, stepping back. My body moved of its own accord, and I could do nothing but watch as I pushed the wolf away with a strength that was not quite my own. A swirl of mist enveloped by entire form, beginning at my chest and spreading outward. I could feel my limbs stretching and my face morphing. It wasn't painful, but felt very strange, like being dipped into a pool of warm mud.

The mist cleared and I held up a hand to see that it wasn't my own. Or rather it was my own, but changed, transformed. It was enormous, with long clawed fingers and covered in thick white fur. I could feel the ears on my head moving around and the nose on my lupine snout twitching.

The two werewolves renewed their attack, and were killed almost instantly by a flurry of my claws. I was still restricted to watching helplessly as my body moved by itself.

A final roar from the storm atronach announced its departure, and in its wake I could see the broken bodies of 4 werewolves, leaving two advancing for me. My arm lashed out and grabbed one by the throat, lifting it off its feet and throwing it against a nearby wall with such force that it died instantly. The last werewolf faltered slightly, but attacked nonetheless with a reckless swing that my body dodged with ease before counterattacking with another sequence of fast strikes. The cave floor was now slick with the cruor of battle, and I was victorious.

I turned toward the duel that was still ongoing, and could feel the wolf spirit in my body urging me forward to join in and kill them both, bloodlust guiding its thoughts. It took all my strength of will to slow my body down, but still I advanced. I was going to kill Trivea.

Posted by: mALX Aug 21 2016, 02:07 PM

Chapter 5 Still trying to get caught up

This chapter was chock full of awesome lines to quote, so I'm going to have to limit myself to some I just couldn't stand not to mention:

What a perfect sentence that is! I can visually see it like watching a movie the way you phrase things, yet so concise! That is such a gift!!!




This is just spectacular, you have not just set the scene; you have set a mood here with this description! Awesome, Awesome!!!




You could have stopped at the "fallen comrade," but instead you added a perfect touch with her paleness - that takes it into a whole new level, amazing job you did on this!




You have set the urgency here, really making the reader feel like they are holding their breath with Haa-Rei!




This was just plain funny!!!

AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!!!

Posted by: mALX Aug 21 2016, 02:23 PM

Chapter 6 - This chapter really gave the feel of a group of people on a trip that has lasted way too long already and still has a long way to go, lol. But I saw "Faregyl" and knew what they would be doing next, I love that Haa-Rei is visiting Maxical's parents in her absence!!! Awesome Write !!!

Posted by: mALX Aug 21 2016, 03:07 PM

Chapter 7

What a perfect sentence !!! So visual it is like watching a play unfold, but you somehow manage to do it so concise that it seems effortless (when I know it is NOT easy at all to do!)

Love how you captured S'Jirra's overly exuberant hugging and kissing at the end!!!!

Awesome Write !!!!!

Posted by: mALX Aug 21 2016, 03:29 PM

Chapter 8

Your description of the minotaur and that feeling of akinship with it was Awesome in this chapter!

This whole paragraph was perfect:

Another great one:







I LOVE this line !!!

Awesome Write !!!!

Posted by: mALX Aug 23 2016, 04:20 PM

Chapter 9

Your description of Bravil here is absolutely AWESOME !!!!! You brought the whole atmosphere of it to life in this chapter!!!


Awesome, Awesome Write !!!!!




Chapter 10


This chapter was spectacular from beginning to end! I absolutely am nuts about the conversation with Daenlin; especially that bow; the whole inner dialogue Haa-Rei had about Hist trees - spectacular !!! This chapter was inspired in so many ways; from Haa-Rei's reaction to cold right down to Daenlin's final deal with him - Totally Awesome !!!!! My absolute favorite chapter so far !!!

Posted by: ghastley Aug 23 2016, 04:47 PM

"The cave floor was now slick with the cruor of battle, and I was victorious. " If it's become cruor, is it still slick?

Still, the Werewolf wants to kill the Vampire Lord, regardless of those nominally in control of those forms. Everything would now hinge on control of the transformation, methinks.

Posted by: Acadian Aug 24 2016, 01:19 PM

Ahah! A wonderful display of dual transformations during this tense fight.

Oh, and Stormie was of great help. Scrolls are a neat device to help in a pinch while preventing the character from routinely running around overpowered.

Trivea’s transformation to vampire lord form was magnificent and does much to explain her confidence. And just when we thought Haa-Rei might be a goner, he did his own transformation. It was very neat how he was almost an observer as the wolf within more or less took control of him. Uh-oh, I hope something intervenes to prevent him from trying to kill Trivea.

Posted by: mALX Aug 28 2016, 02:42 PM

Chapter 11 -


Your lore on the Hist is so amazing through these last couple chapters! I feel more understanding of it after reading them than I have through numerous Histy quests in ESO! LOVE what you are doing with it!

Also = loving the intriguing feeling of unease Haa-Rei is having here! What could it be? I was wondering if it was the Leyawiin Blackwood Company's Hist; but can't be sure if you are leading us there or not!!!

It is kind of a cliffy, but a subtle one! AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!

Posted by: Grits Aug 28 2016, 05:13 PM

Wow, I love this whole story of how Haa-Rei became a werewolf. Both Trivea’s and Haa-Rei’s transformations were vivid and easy to imagine but didn’t bog the fight down with too much detail. Yikes, I wonder if he will be able to keep his wolf spirit from killing Trivea’s vampire self!

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Sep 4 2016, 05:22 PM

There was something awry with the way that dark elf woman carried herself ever since Haa-Rei woke up with her standing there, and the hint has been pointed out, too.

I do wonder how this will affect Haa-Rei, as he's essentially fighting his own kind now. But judging his character, he finds no kinship with these beasts.

After a violent confrontation with the wolves, Haa-Rei's bestial instincts takes him to fight a worthier opponent, no doubt ancient and deadly. A vampire lord is no base prey!

Posted by: hazmick Sep 7 2016, 05:53 PM

mALX - I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Heh, you always manage to pick out the parts that I was most pleased with when I was writing. Keep an eye on that Leyawiin Hist - you might be on to something there

ghastley - I think cruor can be slick, like a petroleum jelly sort of consistency. You're right about the transformation control, though I wonder who is really the one in charge of the situation.

Acadian - I never really use scrolls, but I can't deny their usefulness.

Grits - Thanks! I thought it was a part of the story that was worth telling properly, but I don't want it to go on too long.

DE - I think it's worth keeping an eye on anyone who willingly lives in a cave on Solstheim. Haa-Rei's just glad that she's on his side, though the inner wolf spirit seems to have missed that announcement.



Previously - Aided by a Storm Atronach scroll, Haa-Rei fought several werewolves while Trivea engaged the pack leader in a duel. After being injured, Haa-Rei transformed into a werewolf and began advancing towards Trivea...

Chapter 44



Even with all of my mental energy trying to stop myself, my body was moving ever closer to Trivea. I could feel the wolf spirit's thirst for blood, its innate need to hunt and kill and feed. Its raw power was staggering, and I could understand why so many people were overpowered by it and became feral.

Trivea had noticed too, but seemed completely calm, focusing her attention on the pack leader as it attacked again and again. She lashed out with one hand, pushing the creature back several feet and allowing a spell to be cast with her free hand.

The spell floated lazily in my direction and exploded in a puff of purple smoke at my feet. From the smoke rose a creature I'd never seen before. It almost resembled an Imp, with grey skin, a muscular body, and a pair of wings on its back. Unlike an imp it was enormous, even taller than me in werewolf form, with a hideous face that was frozen in a mask of fury. Its grey skin looked to be made of stone, and my body instinctively raised my arms to block as the creature swung a massive paw towards me.

The impact jarred my arm, drawing out a growl from deep within my chest. I countered quickly, opening several deep wounds on the creature's chest. Its skin was not stone, but a very tough hide - I hoped that I would never face one of these creatures in Argonian form.

The creature and I traded blows for another minute or so before it vanished in a flash of light. Either it was weaker than it looked, or Trivea had recalled it. The latter option seemed the most likely, and I briefly wondered just how strong Trivea was if this creature could be summoned and recalled so easily.

My lupine body was bleeding from numerous wounds, and I could feel the wolf spirit weakening gradually. With no small amount of effort I managed to focus my will and suppress it, slowly taking back control of my body. At first I wasn't sure if it had worked, but I could start to feel things more clearly now, and then move various body parts - first a finger, then a paw, then my whole arm.

I was still in werewolf form, but I was now in control. I was too exhausted to move though, and simply stood back and watched the ongoing duel as my wounds knitted themselves back together.

Trivea had the upper hand. A large set of claw marks crossed the pack leader's face, and had taken an eye with them. Its regeneration seemed to have stopped, unable to keep up with so many injuries, and its attacks had also slowed, allowing Trivea to dodge more than she had to block. Sensing that it was losing, the pack leader launched a desperate flurry of attacks, but none of them found their mark - Trivea simply turned into a cloud of mist and disappeared.

She reappeared behind her foe, and before it could react she lashed out and grabbed its arms. Her wings then folded into two spear-like appendages and embedded themselves in the werewolf's torso. The creature was now completely immobile, and I watched with a grim sense of satisfaction as Trivea's fangs were introduced to the pack leader's neck. I felt my connection to it vanish as it crashed to the ground, the pristine white pelt now a bloody ruin.

A dark mist swirled around Trivea and moments later she was back to her Dunmer form, grinning widely like a Khajiit in a sugar den. She walked over to me as casually as one might approach a small puppy, and retrieved a glass vial from her pocket. It took the last of my strength to kneel down to her height and allow her to pour the liquid into my mouth.

"Good dog." she said quietly, reaching up to scratch my head.

I slumped down onto the ground and even as I felt my body begin to shrink and return to normal, my vision darkened and I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to a familiar sight, packed snow above me. I was back in Trivea's cave.

I was also back to my Argonian form, and I sat up slowly to inspect myself for any wounds, fur, or other signs of the battle. I'd healed completely, and all scales were accounted for.

"If you continue sleeping in my bed people might start to gossip, you know." said Trivea from somewhere off to one side.

"Where...where are you?" I asked, only just noticing the adjoining room. Was that always there?

"Come and see."

It was a small room, big enough for a bed and a small desk which my pack was sitting on.

"Did you just build this?"

"I did indeed, my dear. You need somewhere to stay while you train, and a girl needs her privacy." she placed her hands on her hips and nodded, clearly satisfied with her construction work. Apparently any post-battle discussion would wait for another time, for which I was thankful.

"Oh. Well, thank you Trivea. Erm...what training, exactly?" I asked hesitantly.

"Werewolf training, of course. We can't have you transforming in the middle of a town now can we? Then there'll be alchemy training, some conjuration training, and some lessons in demi-daedric lore." Trivea counted out her list on her slender fingers. As expected, I wouldn't get a say in the matter.

"Conjuration? I'm not a mage."

"Not yet you're not, but I can sense your affinity for it. It's all about your soul, you see. That's why the pack leader chose you too. You have a strong soul, and thus the potential to be a strong werewolf, and mage." I didn't understand, but nodded anyway. "Well, no time like the present, shall we get started?"


Several weeks later, and my training was all complete. I was now slightly more able to control my Lycanthropy, though I still needed to keep the potion handy - the scent of blood was a powerful catalyst for the wolf spirit. I could also summon a Flame Atronach, who had introduced herself as Eithne, and was working on summoning a Storm Atronach. It was time for my mentor and I to part ways.

"Make sure to keep a good stock of potion with you, and practice your spells as often as you can." Trivea reminded me for the fourth time that morning.

"I will, Triv. Where will you go now?"

"I have business in Cyrodiil. We'll see each other again though. You'd be surprised how small the world truly is when you're immortal." She gave me a quick hug, despite knowing of my aversion to physical contact, and patted me on the head. She was a terrifying vampiress, who had stalked the face of Nirn for over 1000 years, and she had become one of my best friends.

After we parted ways I returned to the Imperial Fort and gave a...slightly altered report on what had transpired several weeks ago. Fortunately the captain was much more interested in his flask of brandy than he was in me, and waved me off without any questions.

Several days later I returned to Morrowind, and from there I was transferred to Cyrodiil.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I finished my story and flopped back onto the floor of the Skingrad guild hall, exhausted after speaking for so long.

“Wow
I
thank you for telling me
” Cirinwe said quietly. She looked to be deep in thought for a few moments before she continued. “I think I have a plan.”

“Hm?” I made a vague noise to indicate that I was listening and slowly sat up.

“We’re going vampire hunting.”

Now that got my attention.

Posted by: Acadian Sep 7 2016, 10:50 PM

Very neat conclusion of Haa-Rei’s tale to Cirinwe of how he became a werewolf. I really enjoyed his descriptions of what it felt like to be in beast form – power but at the same time, powerless in a way.

Trivea turned out to be a great ally indeed. A mentor, even.

Hmm, now what could Cirinwe have in mind? Can’t wait to find out!

Posted by: hazmick Sep 16 2016, 07:53 PM

Acadian - Trivea and Cirinwe have certainly helped Haa-Rei a lot already. Where would we be without Mer-maids, eh?



Previously - Haa-Rei finished telling the story of his Lycanthropy, and after hearing everything Cirinwe came up with a plan...

Chapter - 45



“We’re doing what?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard Cirinwe correctly.

“Vampire hunting. Or searching. For your friend Trivea.” Cirinwe clarified.

I thought about it for a few moments. “Hmm, I see. You think she might know something that could help.”

“You said she’d told you she was coming to Cyrodiil, right? Surely it’s worth a shot.”

“The only problem is that I have no idea whereabouts in Cyrodiil she is. She could be in a cave in the wilderness, or a townhouse in the Imperial City. She’s a very small needle in a very large haystack.” I could track lots of different creatures, but vampires are a much more elusive quarry than I could manage.

“Well, the only other thing that could help us is the library at the Arcane University. We could always try and think about ways to find Trivea on the way to the city.” Cirinwe suggested. I had no idea why she was so intent on helping me, but I was most grateful for it.

Seeing no reason to hang around in Skingrad, we set off several minutes later. We’d only been in the town for a single evening and the better part of a morning but it felt like I’d been there for weeks.

It was good to be out in the relative wilderness of Cyrodiil again. The sheer abundance of life so close to the walls of major settlements always surprised me. Of course, not all wildlife is friendly. We passed a mound of burnt goblin corpses outside an old mine, the Fighter’s Guild emblem daubed on the door to show that they had cleared it out.

We had an encounter with a particularly angry imp, but a single arrow was enough to put a stop to its lightning lobbing. The creature that was notably absent on such an important road was the now-elusive Imperial Guardsman. Usually they would patrol the roads of Cyrodiil in small groups to make sure traders and travellers could go about their business unmolested, but I was yet to see anything resembling law and order on the road. Surely a Daedric invasion was when the guards were needed the most. Putting those thoughts aside, I turned my attention to my companion, who’d been deep in thought ever since we’d left the guild hall.

“Cirinwe?” I began, remembering a question I’d been meaning to ask.

“Hm?” she looked up from her study of the road and its effects on one’s boots.

“Back in Anvil, you said that you’d read my file at the Mages Guild
what exactly is in the file?” I’d been curious for a while now.

“Well, it said that you’re from Black Marsh, and that you’re an adventurer. Oh, and you’re in the Legion. That’s all just information to help decide what role would suit you best in the guild.”

“I see. What role would suit me best?” I was relieved that my Blades membership wasn’t included, but now more curious than ever.
“Well that’s not decided until you finish your recommendations, but since you’re an adventurer you wouldn’t be stationed at a specific guild hall. You’d be more of a travelling scholar. Legion members are usually assigned to battlemage groups though, so it would also depend on your Legion rank and duties.”

“Hmm. I quite like the sound of being a travelling scholar.” I said, wondering how it would be any different from the dungeon-delving and adventuring that I had always done. More note taking? Less looting?

Cirinwe was quite for a while, and after several false starts spoke again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“My sister said she’d told you about my past
” she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

“Only a little. You’re a talented mage from the Summerset Isles who left a prestigious mage academy after some sort of incident
and that’s it.” Now that I thought about, I didn’t know much about her at all.

“Well, that’s certainly quite brief.”

I shrugged. “I just assumed that you’d tell me more if you thought I needed to know.”

“Oh, well thank you. I want to tell you more, it’s just
difficult to talk about.” She absentmindedly rubbed her scars. I decided that I wouldn’t pursue it.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a good person, and that’s all anybody should need to know about their travelling companions.”

She smiled slightly and looked as if she wanted to say more, but remained silent. We resumed our journey and after a day, a night, and another half a day we arrived on the outskirts of the village of Weye.

Almost immediately after we entered the village we were approached by a man wearing the traditional fisherman garb of waterproof waders, though one leg of the waders had been removed to allow bandages to be applied to the man's leg. He had the aura of a quest-giver about him, and I could only hope that the job wouldn’t be too difficult


Posted by: ghastley Sep 16 2016, 08:03 PM

At least he didn't have a glowing arrow over his head, pointing at him! Then you'd know you already have the quest in your journal.

Posted by: Acadian Sep 16 2016, 08:10 PM

So, vampire hunting means looking for Trivea. Good idea and Cirinwe is both wise and helpful. Oh, and going to the Arcane University is always a great idea, almost no matter what you’re seeking.

I enjoyed their trip and, as ever, Haa-Rei’s always interesting observations. I also like how you are gradually coaxing more info out of both them as they interact. Haa-Rei has recently spilled all his werewolf guts to Cirinwe so, hopefully, she’ll reveal more of her past to him as well.

I quite chuckled as the couple entered Weye – only to be approached by a fellow with the ‘aura of a quest giver about him’.

As ever, this story is a joy to read!

Posted by: mALX Sep 17 2016, 09:34 AM

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Chapter 12

This chapter is outstanding in every way; really makes it very clear the difference between someone creating and writing about a character; and someone who intimately knows that character integrally.

It is such an awesome feeling reading this; I am learning about Argonians and Haa-Rei more than I have known about him these many years - LOVING this story!!!! And loving your writing too! You have such an easy 'tongue-in-cheek' style of writing that just makes reading it a total pleasure! Like Treydog said about Buffy = comfort food for the soul.

You even made going to fill a flask from the river an adventure when heard through the mind of Haa-Rei; and that was just one example of many!

This paragraph in particular was just plain fantastic:

Awesome, AWESOME Write !!!!!


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Posted by: mALX Sep 17 2016, 09:52 AM

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Chapter 13

I am loving the idea (if I'm right about this) that the Hist locked up by the Blackwood Company has drawn Argonians from all over! And Haa-Rei wondering why he wasn't "called to the party" = a perfect touch!!! But he is still feeling that unease, so maybe he was drawn there like the others?

I don't know, but I am totally LOVING this story!!!! And the close easy bond between Haa-Rei and Deeh is so well written !!!

This has already been quoted, but I can't go without pointing it out:

Amazing how you bring Deeh to life here, and your own world building with Argonians is spectacular !!!

Fantastic Write!!!




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Posted by: mALX Sep 18 2016, 07:50 AM

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Chapter 14

SPEW!!!

All of Haa-Rei's conversations with (and especially inner diaogues about) Olorin have kept me in stitches laughing! This whole scene of Olorin wanting Haa-Rei to join the Mages Guild was just perfect!

Well that was a molst exciting fight! And WOO HOO on Haa-Rei joining the Mages Guild!!!


Awesome Write!!!



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Posted by: hazmick Sep 23 2016, 07:27 PM

ghastley -

Acadian - ArcUni is good for everything except fashion. Have you seen those robes!? We'll definitely be learning more about Ciri, just as soon as she feels up to it.

mALX - Your observations are spot on as always, and I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!



Previously - After deciding to find the elusive Trivea, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe resumed their journey to the Imperial City. As they entered the village of Weye, however, they were approached by a fisherman...

Chapter 46



“You there! I’ve been waiting for you!” Shouted the fisherman as he limped over to us. I exchanged a look with Cirinwe, who shrugged to show that she was similarly innocent of the man’s acquaintance.

“Er
waiting for whom?” I asked when the man finally reached us. He had the round face of a Breton, though it was so weathered and tanned that he could have been mistaken for an Imperial. Despite his age, his arms were roped with muscle that comes from years of physical labour.

“You!” He pointed to me. “Well, not you exactly, but an Argonian, or a fisherman, or even just someone willing to help out an old man.”

“Help with what?” I asked to try and coax more information out of him. Why people couldn’t just tell me what they wanted, or better yet write it down, had always been a mystery to me.

“I'm a fisherman. Or at least, I was. Until one of those slaughterfish damn near took my leg off.” he indicated the limb in question, “I was collecting their scales, see. I had a contract with this young alchemist. You wouldn't believe what he was paying for those scales! Then last month, one of the fish got a hold of my leg. Took me right out of the business. But this alchemist, he needs the scales right away.” He stopped there, as if that was enough.

“
and you want me to
get some fish scales?”

“Yes! I only needed twelve more scales! Can you believe it? I was so close! I've picked up a few things in my travels. If you head out there and bring me back the twelve scales that I need, I can make it worth your time.” He yelled, finally getting to the point.

“When you say twelve scales
” I asked, unclear whether he wanted twelve scales or the scales of twelve fish. He confirmed that it was the latter, and returned to sit on his porch. Apparently I wouldn’t be getting a fishing lesson.

“I don’t suppose you want to join me?” I asked Cirinwe, who looked rather amused for someone who’s companion was about to do battle with a swarm of flesh-eating water beasts.

“I think I’d only slow you down, not being able to breathe water and all. I’ll wait on the shore and hold your equipment.”

A few minutes later and we were standing on the shore. I’d removed most of my clothing, everything except my greaves – partially for the sake of modesty, and partially to protect my legs in the event of an aquatic altercation. I retrieved a knife from my pack and nodded to Cirinwe, who gave me a small wave and a slight smile.

The water was warmer than I’d expected, and I spent a few moments floating near the surface to allow my body to adjust to the temperature. Slaughterfish have rather poor eyesight, but can sense heat quite well. After that I slowly made my way to the bottom of the lake, or as close to the bottom as I dared. The bed of the lake was made up of sludge and sewage, which poured out of the city and drifted to the bottom. I wasn’t too keen on getting too close to that, so I stayed several feet above it.

Slaughterfish usually stay near the surface, unless they’re laying eggs, and have eyes that face slightly upwards. Thus, attacking from below would make it much easier for me. Add to that my low body temperature and my calm swimming motions and I would be finished in no time, with minimal risk.

The spines on my head, being used for their true purpose for once, could pinpoint movement from quite a distance away underwater. There were plenty of slaughterfish in the vicinity, so I got to work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cirinwe yawned, feeling more than a little tired after so much walking. It had only been a few days since they had set out from Anvil, and she was yet to get used to all the exercise. She was enjoying herself though, more than she had done for a very long time.

When Ailinwe had first suggested this trip, Cirinwe had been a little unsure of it. The Imperial City was quite a draw, but travelling there on foot and in the company of a stranger made her more than a little nervous. Of course that stranger was now someone she considered to be a friend, and here she was holding his equipment while he darted about after slaughterfish to help out an old man.

Every so often he would appear at the surface to lob another fish onto the beach, and Cirinwe would tell him how many he’d caught before he disappeared again. Everyone knew that Argonians were good swimmers, but now Cirinwe realised that it wasn’t swimming at all. He simply moved through the water, propelled by his powerful tail, no splashing or flailing of limbs that counts as swimming among other races.

Cirinwe wondered what else she didn’t know about Argonians, and Haa-Rei specifically. She wanted to ask him where he grew up, and about his adventures in Morrowind, and about his favourite books, but she wasn’t sure how. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted to talk to her, her scar usually being the only thing people can see, and she was quite out of practice.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by Haa-Rei’s return. He waded out of the lake, sun shining on his green scales, and flopped onto the sand. Beside him lay twelve large fish, jaws full of needle sharp teeth.

“Let’s get these back to the fisherman.” said Haa-Rei, stifling a yawn. No doubt slaughterfishing was tiring work.

Cirinwe felt warmth rise to her cheeks as she realised she’d be staring at him the whole time, but composed herself and nodded her agreement. The two headed back to the fisherman, who was both grateful and surprised at the Argonian’s efficiency.

"I'm looking forward to my retirement - long days in the stable with the horses, long mornings in bed, and best of all: no more fish." The fisherman beamed, handing Haa-Rei his reward – a ring which looked to be enchanted.

They took their leave of the old man, who had already begun de-scaling the fish, and headed towards the Imperial City. They had arrived at last.

Posted by: ghastley Sep 23 2016, 09:26 PM

Of course, for once we have a protagonist who doesn't need the reward before starting the quest. Hopefully Haa-Rei isn't annoyed that it's not particularly useful to him.

Posted by: Acadian Sep 23 2016, 10:24 PM

What great fun to see this quest through the eyes of our Argonian friend! It answers the obvious question that most questers have about why the fisherman waited until the hero nearly drowns killing fish before offering a ring of waterbreathing. In Haa-Rei's case, I bet the ring would be a perfect gift for Ciri. . . . Loved swimming with his tail, matching his own temperature to that of the water and relying on his headspines to help locate his prey. As I said, great fun to read!

Also nice to get a peek into the mind of Cirinwe. And to confirm that she just might indeed have a touch of romantic interest in her scaly companion.

Posted by: hazmick Sep 30 2016, 08:14 PM

ghastley - Don't worry, I'm sure he'll find a use for it.

Acadian - I've been watching my axolotls swimming a lot recently, so I had some good inspiration. There'll definitely be more Ciri stuff at some point.



Previously - Haa-Rei went fishing in Lake Rumare, and was awarded an enchanted ring by the old fisherman. With no more distractions, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe entered the Imperial City...

Chapter 47



“So this is the Imperial City? It’s almost as I imagined it.” Remarked Cirinwe as we entered the gates.

The city was the same as it had been on my last visit, though it was late in the afternoon when we arrived so the streets were a lot quieter.

“Do you know how to get to the University from here?” I asked.

“I should be fine, I have a map.” Cirinwe looked nervous, though I wasn’t sure if it was the city or the prospect of entering another mage academy that was causing it. “Oh, that’s right, I haven’t asked where you’ll be. We should meet up tomorrow, I’ll look for some books tonight and we can discuss
your problem and how to find Trivea.” She produced a pristine map of the Imperial City, with the Arcane University highlighted in blue ink, from the sleeves of her robes.

“Luther Broad’s Boarding House, in the Elven Gardens district. Here.” I indicated the location with a claw.

“Thank you
and thank you for accompanying me this far.” She smiled and bowed slightly in a traditional Altmer gesture of thanks. She paused for a second, asif she was going to continue, but decided against it.

“My pleasure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I did my best to smile with my mouth as humans and elves do and watched her leave before heading off to Luther Broad’s.

The boarding house, as before, was nice and quiet. There were only five people in the common room, including who I assume was Luther who was speaking quietly to a figure at the bar. He nodded to me as I entered and indicated a free bar stool. I'd never actually met Luther before, so I was a little curious to learn how he knew me by sight. As I approached I suddenly recognised the figure, and sat down beside them.

“Baurus.” I greeted the Redguard Blade quietly. He had been with The Emperor when he’d been assassinated, and I hadn’t seen him since. Today he was wearing a pair of light brown braies and a thin green woollen shirt – a very different look from the heavy Akaviri style Blades armour he’d previously been wearing. Despite obviously being undercover he still wore his katana at his hip.

“Good afternoon. I have a message from Jauffre.” he said quietly, getting straight down to business, “Weynon Priory was attacked, but the package is safe and secure. They’ve relocated to Cloud Ruler Temple.”

“No new orders?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t going to be sent off somewhere before Cirinwe and I could finish our current task.

“Business as usual, but all agents are on alert for any red robes.” Red robes meaning the mysterious group who had killed the Emperor. I’d hoped to see the last of them.

“I see. Thank you.” I wondered why Baurus was really here, being a messenger was obviously a secondary task. No doubt it would be considered bad form to ask a secret agent what he was up to, so I stayed quiet.

I could hear someone getting up and leaving in the far corner, and was aware that Baurus was listening too. He rose to leave as soon as the stranger left the inn, nodding to me in silent farewell. He looked a lot older than when we’d first met, though it wasn’t difficult to understand why.

Once he’d gone I booked a room and made my way upstairs. I locked the door behind me, kicked off my boots, and dumped my pack on the floor before crawling onto the bed. A lot had happened recently and I needed time to relax and take it all in. I rose to a sitting position, legs crossed and hands resting in my lap, and let my mind drift off.

I was worried. Worried about daedra pouring out of Oblivion gates all over Cyrodiil, worried about Eithne the flame atronach who was still missing and unsummonable, and worried about accidentally transforming into a werewolf in my sleep.

I was also happy. Happy that I’d made friends with Jötnar, Sjöfn and Olorin when I’d first arrived here, happy that I was a Blade, and most of all I was happy to have met Cirinwe. Rarely did I feel so comfortable around another person, especially so soon after meeting them. The idea that I could have turned feral back in Skingrad and caused her harm made me sick, and I was beyond grateful that she was so willing to help.

All in all this was making my usually peaceful meditation quite confusing, but when I emerged from my room a couple of hours later I felt much more relaxed.

It was meal time in the common room, and there were a lot more people than before. It still wasn’t crowded though, just lively. The quietest table was a familiar one, and I was soon spotted and called over.

“Well I’ll be a horker’s uncle. Haa-Rei!” boomed a familiar voice. Between his unkempt brown hair, his fur armour, and his massive size, he resembled a brown bear more than a horker, though the smell of ale and mead gave him away.

“Good to see you, Jötnar.” I greeted him with a nod and sat down in the chair across from him. He was dining alone, on a meal that seemed to consist entirely of meat. In the chair beside him was his heavy greatsword and several pieces of iron armour.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see you here. My sister said you’d gone to Kvatch, and then we heard what had happened there...” He looked more curious than worried, so I told him a little of what had happened. I missed out the parts where I closed an Oblivion gate and almost transformed into a werewolf of course.

“
so I just got back a couple of hours ago. What about you? I assume you didn’t get that scar from sitting around here all day.” I gestured to the fresh scar on his face, which ran from the bridge of his nose to his jawline.

“Oh, this? Had a little scrap with some goblins outside of Skingrad. Part of my initiation into the Fighters Guild.” he grinned widely, clearly proud of himself.

“Really? Congratulations! I saw some dead goblins outside a mine near Skingrad. Was that
?” I asked, remembering the pile of charred corpses and the Fighters Guild emblem. If Cirinwe and I had been an hour earlier we might have caught up with him.

“That’s right! The Fighters Guild really knows how to show a guy a good time. Don’t get me wrong, I like my Legion work too, but this involves a lot more fighting.” He let out a large belch and waved his tankard in the air to signal a refill. When the waitress arrived I ordered myself some tea and a small bowl of the Boarding House’s daily special – Slaughterfish rice.

Jötnar was still drinking when I took my leave of him a couple of hours later. We’d discussed our respective work with the Legion, and of course I’d had to listen to more tales of his incredibly numerous conquests, both on and off the battlefield. We’d also agreed to train together the next day, though I’d be surprised if he would remember his own name after drinking enough ale to fill Lake Rumare twice over.

It was good to be back.

Posted by: Acadian Sep 30 2016, 11:49 PM

Poor Haa-Rei – trying to smile for Cirinwe like a mer or human.

’No doubt it would be considered bad form to ask a secret agent what he was up to, so I stayed quiet.’ - - This is so very Haa-Rei! I also really liked his observation about Baurus having aged. It really brings home how the Redguard's ‘failure’ to protect his Emperor must weigh on him.

Even Haa-Rei’s meditation seems so perfectly reptilian for him.

I love Jötnar’s attitude about the Fighters Guild – basically, ‘they let me kill stuff and I get paid for it!’

Posted by: hazmick Oct 15 2016, 06:16 PM

Acadian - Yep, the only thing better than hitting things with a big sword is getting paid to do so.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe arrived in the Imperial City, and the Altmer went to the Arcane University. After heading to Luther Broad's Boarding House, Haa-Rei learned that Weynon Priory had been attacked, forcing Jauffre to relocate to Cloud Ruler Temple. Later, Haa-Rei was reunited with Jötnar and the two spent an evening catching up, with plans to spar with each other the following morning...

Chapter 48



I awoke the next morning feeling groggy. My sleep was becoming increasingly restless and I had to drink more tea than usual to wake myself up before heading downstairs.

To my surprise, Jötnar was already there. He was in the same seat he had occupied the night before, though he was not drinking, instead engaging in a great battle against a quill and some parchment. The look on the Nord’s face suggested that he was losing.

“Good morning.” I resumed my position in the opposite seat.

“Hey. Is this right?” He slid the parchment across the table for my perusal. At the top of the page in a clear, elegant hand was a list of words. Beneath each was Jötnar’s valiant attempt to copy them down.

“What am I looking for?” I asked, unsure.

“Y’know, spelling. I have to read Olorin’s words, then cover them up, say them out loud, and write them down myself.” The night before he had told me that Olorin was teaching him to read, and that Jötnar was awaiting promotion in the legion which required him to pass a written exam. I was happy to help, and went through the words with him to point out errors.

In fact we were so busy with writing that we didn’t notice our guests until they reached our table.

“Hard at work, I see. Makes a change.” Sjöfn said, nudging Jötnar with a skinny elbow. She looked none the worse for wear after our adventure near Chorrol. She nodded and I waved a claw in greeting and turned to her companions.

Olorin looked even older than I remembered, if that was possible. His face was deeply wrinkled, but his eyes were clear and full of vigour. He had tucked his long beard into his belt and was leaning on a gnarled wooden staff like an illustration of a wizard from a Breton children’s book.

Behind him, peering over the stack of books she was carrying, was Cirinwe. Somehow I wasn’t surprised to see that they had all bumped into each other, and couldn’t help but smile to see her. Jötnar seemed almost as pleased as me, and moved to stand in front of her before Sjöfn had finished introducing him.

“Allow me, my lady,” He took the stack of books and placed them on the table as if they weighed nothing, and brought one of Cirinwe’s hands up to his lips. “Haa-Rei didn’t mention that his companion was so beautiful. If I’d have known I’d have-”

“That’s enough.” Interrupted Sjöfn, cuffing the larger Nord around the ear and dragging him back to his seat.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Jötnar.” Said Cirinwe with a small bow, remaining dignified in the face of the Nord’s advances, before moving to stand beside me. “I met Olorin at the University, and Sjöfn on the way here. Quite a stroke of luck to bump into friends of yours. Even with a map I might have lost my way.”

“Just in time too!” Said Jötnar before I could reply. “Haa-Rei and I were about to head over to the training grounds for a little bit of sparring. You should come and watch, cheer us on.”

“Cirinwe and I have research to discuss
” I began. I’d hoped that Jötnar would have forgotten about our sparring, but apparently not.

“It’s fine” Cirinwe said, “I haven’t learned anything that can’t wait until after your training.” It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn that there was a spark of mischief in the Altmer’s eyes.

“There we are then! Nothing like watching two strapping young lads stripping down and oiling up for a good scrap.” Bellowed Jötnar, clearly excited.

“I’m not doing either of those first two things.” I assured him as the four of us left the Boarding House. Olorin remained behind to ‘hold down the fort’, by which he meant that he would have a nap in front of the fire.


It was short trip from the Elven Gardens District to the Prison District. Despite the name, the prison itself is almost entirely underground. On the surface the walled area houses the Imperial Legion offices, barracks, armoury, and training grounds.

We were greeted at the entrance to the training grounds by a short, stout Imperial man who peered at us through a pair of spectacles which balanced precariously on the end of his large nose. He gestured to the small desk beside him, and asked us to sign our names and ranks before entering. His eyes widened when he read my information, and he snapped to attention with such ferocity that his glasses flew clean off his nose, saved only by the chain that attached them to his tunic.

“I-if I can be of any assistance at all, please do not hesitate, sir!” He stammered, clearly taken off guard.

“We just want to use a training area.” Replied Jötnar, receiving a harsh look from the Imperial.

“I was addressing the Legate.” The Imperial said, still at attention. I’d forgotten that my usual rank of ‘Agent’ only applied in Morrowind. The equivalent rank of Legate was used in most other areas of the Empire. I wasn’t sure if I felt like a Legate, but I quite liked the sound of it.

“As my friend said, we wish to make use of a training area
erm
you can stop saluting now too.” Being a Legate was already proving to be hard work.

The little man led us to an empty training area and, after several more salutes, left us in peace. The training area was little more than a large patch of dirt, surrounded by walls. Along one wall was a set of benches, which Sjöfn and Cirinwe made their way towards. The other walls were lined with weapon racks, archery targets, training dummies, and anything else that one might need to hone their skills.

Jötnar and I selected our weapons. He opted for a two-handed sword, a thinner but longer blade than he usually used. I chose a standard longsword, opting to go without a shield. I could hear Cirinwe and Sjöfn chatting quietly on the other side of the area, though I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“I fought a frost troll once, armed only with the jawbone of an ox, but I’ve never been quite so terrified as I am when I see two young girls in deep conversation.” Said Jötnar beside me, looking over to our companions. At that moment I heard Sjöfn giggle, and saw Jötnar shudder slightly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing sinister.”

“Well I’m glad you’re not worried, since it’s probably you they’re talking about. Cirinwe hasn’t taken her eyes off you since she walked into the Boarding House.” Jötnar clapped me on the shoulder. “You should really tell her if you’re not interested.”

“She what? Me?” Either Cirinwe had been very subtle, or I was just too dense to notice how she felt. Probably the latter. “Well
it’s not that I’m not interested
it’s just that I don’t
” It was difficult to explain, and I was getting flustered.

“I get it. You’re asexual, right? Had you pegged pretty early on.” Once again Jötnar surprised me by how good he was at reading people. He would be an excellent spy, if he could learn to keep his mouth shut.

“Mhm.” I nodded, busying myself by swinging the sword around.

“
and you’re scared because you think she’ll want a more physical relationship.” He tapped me on the side of the head. “You think too much. You should talk to her about it instead.” It seemed incredibly simple when he put it like that. If only talking to people actually was that easy.

“Can we just hit each other with swords now?” I asked him, eager to end the conversation.

He’d given me a lot to think about.

Posted by: Acadian Oct 15 2016, 09:01 PM

The return of the Three Amigos!

Despite Jotnar’s struggle versus quill and parchment, his insight into Haa-Rei and Ciri is quite remarkable. Her response to the big Nord’s flirting by remaining aloof and stepping closer to Haa-Rei spoke volumes. I hope Haa-Rei takes Jotnar’s advice to talk with Ciri.

I loved the adorable description you gave of the stout little bespectacled guard they encountered in the prison district.

As ever, this tale is great fun to read!

Posted by: hazmick Oct 21 2016, 06:34 PM

Acadian - Everyone needs someone like Jötnar to give them a little push every now and then, Haa-Rei more so than others.



Previously - Cirinwe managed to find Haa-Rei and Jötnar, with the help of Sjöfn and Olorin. While Olorin remained at Luther Broad's the others made their way to the Imperial Legion training grounds so Jötnar and Haa-Rei could spar with each other. Before they got started, Jötnar gave Haa-Rei some helpful advice regarding Cirinwe...

Chapter 49



“Ow.” I said flatly, lying on the dusty floor of the training area. What Jötnar lacked in finesse, he more than made up for in strength. He’d been batting me about like an old doll for a while now, and showing me just how out of practice I was.

“Heh, sorry. I got a bit carried away there.” the Nord laughed, lending me a hand as I clambered to my feet. “you should take a break, let Sjöfn take over.”

“What? Oh no I won’t. You almost took my head off last time.” Sjöfn shook her head vigorously, as if testing that it was indeed still attached.

“Um
” interrupted Cirinwe, one delicate hand raised in the air, “I’d like to try it, if you wouldn’t mind teaching me.”

Silence descended over the yard as myself and the two Nords stared at the Altmer, mouths hanging open in surprise. It was Jötnar who recovered first:

“Well alright! I’m not sure you’re dressed for it though.” he indicated Cirinwe’s mages robes which were indeed more suited to quiet study than swordplay.

“Well I can help you with that.” Sjöfn said, taking Cirinwe’s hand and leading her toward a side door.

After they’d gone I slowly made my way over to the seating area. I was sore all over, but it had been an interesting experience. When Cirinwe returned I almost fell off my newly acquired seat.

She was dressed in the light leather armour that is used by Legion recruits. A padded leather cuirass to protect the torso, with padded leather gauntlets covering the hands, wrists, forearms, and elbows. The upper arms were bare to prevent overheating, and I noticed that her left shoulder shared the burn scars on her face. A skirt of leather pteruges protected her waist, as well as allowing for easy movement, and leather boots with a rigid shin guard protected her lower legs.

“I look ridiculous.” Cirinwe muttered, fidgeting with a gauntlet and blushing fiercely.

Jötnar let out a low whistle, while Sjöfn glared at me so sharply that I thought she’d bore a hole through my armour. I should stop staring and say something.

“Not at all. You look great.” I could barely get my words out, but it was true. Even with the extra padding on the armour it was obvious that Cirinwe was beautifully slender, and the golden skin of her long arms and legs seemed to absorb the bright afternoon sun. The warrior look suited her perfectly.

“See?” Sjöfn nudged Cirinwe, and allowed a smug smile to play across her lips. She was obviously proud of her transformation efforts, and came to sit beside me while Jötnar and Cirinwe decided on a weapon.

“She looks amazing.” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else, watching the Altmer testing the weight of several different weapons.

“You sound surprised.” smiled the redheaded Nord beside me.

“Well it’s just so different from her usual robes
I-I mean it’s not like I don’t
”

“I know,” Sjöfn laughed, “I’m just teasing you.”

I frowned heavily, causing more laughter, and turned my attention back to Cirinwe. She’d chosen a two-handed sword, similar to Jötnar’s, and was being taught several different methods of holding and swinging it. The weapon suited her as well as the armour, its long blade complementing her own height. Even the shortest Altmer would have quite a long reach with such a weapon, and Cirinwe was the tallest I’d ever met. She had a serious look on her face, focusing on every word that Jötnar spoke. I had no doubts about his abilities as a tutor – his promotion in the Legion was evidence enough of that.

After the basic stances were covered, the pair moved onto some swordplay. Jötnar attacked slowly to allow Cirinwe to get a feel for blocking and countering. He sped up his attacks gradually, and once she’d calmed down Cirinwe was able to match his speed – albeit still rather clumsily.

The training continued for a couple more hours, until Sjöfn called an end to it. The sun was hanging low in the sky by that point - we’d been in the yard for most of the day and we were all tired and hungry. After Cirinwe changed back into her robes the four of us returned to the Boarding House, with Jötnar continuing his verbal lesson on the best way to fight someone with a shield.

“Nice job today, you’re a natural.” Jötnar said as we entered Luther Broad’s.

“Oh, well thank you.” blushed Cirinwe.

“I’m serious! You picked it up real quick. If you keep practicing like that you could be quite the warrior.” I’d never seen Jötnar look serious about anything before, but I nodded in agreement when Cirinwe turned to me.

“He’s right. It took me ages to get the hang of all that stuff when I was a recruit. You looked like you were enjoying it too.” If someone had told me at the start of the day that Cirinwe had a knack for swordplay I’d have found it hilarious, yet here we were.

“Well...it was fun
I’ll think about it.” she nodded.

The Boarding House was more or less the same as we’d left it. Olorin was still seated at the same table, and looked almost as much a part of the room as the furnishings.

“Aah the smell of youth.” the old Altmer smiled as we sat down.

“That’s just him.” grimaced Sjöfn, looking pointedly at her brother.

“That, dear sister, is the scent of hard work. Breathe it in.” Jötnar flexed his muscles, but eventually relented to his sister and moped away to bathe.

“Maybe I should find a bath too.” pondered Cirinwe. As far as I could tell she smelled perfectly wonderful, but I wasn’t sure how appropriate it would be to say so.

“You can use the one in my room. Come on.” offered Sjöfn, once again taking the Altmer’s hand and leading her away.

I turned to speak to Olorin, but the aged Altmer had already gone back to sleep. I wondered if I should go for a bath too, but ultimately decided to stay in my seat by the fire. Since Argonians don’t sweat I smelled as fresh as usual, and I knew that I’d almost certainly fall asleep in the tub.

Before long the others returned, smelling of soap. Cirinwe had borrowed a pair of dark brown breeches and a light blue shirt from Sjöfn, and sat down beside me to dry her long hair by the fire.

“Thank you for today.” she said quietly, fiddling with a hairbrush.

“Oh, well it was Jötnar’s idea to train together. I just tagged along with him.” I sipped carefully at the tea I’d ordered, steam tickling my nose.

“Not that. I meant about what you said
that you thought I looked good. I was quite nervous, so thank you.” she turned away, but the tips of her ears showed that she was blushing a little.

“Oh, that. Well
I just said what I was thinking. I-it suited you.” my words were all of a jumble, which seemed to be an increasingly common occurrence when talking to Cirinwe.

The Altmer turned to me and smiled, and now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I took a swig of tea and winced as I lightly scolded my mouth. Two distinct tones of Nordic laughter erupted from the other side of the table, and I suddenly became aware that Sjöfn and Jötnar had been listening the entire time. Maybe I should have gone to sleep in the bath after all.

Posted by: ghastley Oct 21 2016, 07:01 PM

Sorry but you can't toss "pteruges" nonchalantly into the story, and then put scolded when you meant scalded.

I'll be interested in what Ciri's sudden interest in two-handed means.

Posted by: Acadian Oct 21 2016, 08:15 PM

I grinned all the way through this!

What a delight that you are sharing Ciri’s transition to the way of the blade with us. She does indeed seem to have the aptitude and long arms for it. It also ties in beautifully to what we have seen of her progress in ESO.

The awkward flirting between Haa-Rei and Ciri before and after bath time was great fun as well. Maybe, with the Nordic coaching of Jötnar and Sjöfn, the lizard and high elf odd couple may yet find their path to each other.

Posted by: hazmick Nov 4 2016, 03:05 PM

ghastley -

Acadian - Hopefully Ciri is starting to materialise as a proper character now, rather than a shiny elf-shaped blob. I'm surprised at how quickly she's become such a big part of it all.



Previously - In a surprising turn of events, Cirinwe asked Jötnar to teach her how to use a sword. As it turns out, she has a natural talent for it, and the gang encouraged her to pursue this new vocation...

Chapter 50



“Ok, we’ll see you later then.” Shouted Jötnar as he and Cirinwe departed the Boarding House.

They were going to an armourers to find Cirinwe some equipment, as she had decided to stick with her swordsmership for the time being. She’d stayed up late the previous night, thinking hard about the direction she wanted to go in. I was pleased to see that she had made a decision, and especially pleased that she was happy with it.

Since I knew very little about armour, I remained at the boarding house with a stack of books that Cirinwe had borrowed from the University library. I’d already read through any that contained even a mention of werewolves, but it seemed that people are much more interesting in killing lycanthropes than they are in helping them. I now had a wide range of knowledge should I ever need to fight myself, but it really wasn’t useful to my current predicament.

The book that now held my interest was a reference text on enchantments. It was a thick tome which apparently featured every enchantment that had ever been invented, with illustrations and descriptions (lengthy, written by mages) to match. I was trying to figure out the enchantment on the old ring that I’d been given after helping the fisherman by Lake Rumare.

The ring was a plain gold band, though it had once had some sort of engraving around the outer edge which had long since faded.

The first enchantment rune was clearly visible, and glowed very, very softly. A human in a running pose, with a small ‘II’ above it. This told me that the secondary enchantment on the ring would slightly increase the wearer’s athletic ability – perfect for a warrior such as Cirinwe or Jötnar.

For a while I ran my fingers over the ring, and inspected every tiny detail for signs of the primary rune, but to no avail. I reached out with one hand to find my cup of tea, though I was concentrating more on the tome in front of me. When my hand found the cup, and before I could react, there was a thud and tea began spilling all over the table.

“Ah, caoc!” I swore, frantically grabbing all the books and lifting them to safety. The tea pooled around the ring, and that’s when I saw it.

“Well I’ll be a wamasu’s wet nurse
”

It hadn’t been that the rune was hard to find – it had been hidden. As soon as the tea touched the ring, the faded markings on the band began to glow a soft blue/green colour, revealing a beautifully detailed engraving of waves and fish which almost looked as if they were moving. I had heard of enchantments like this before, hidden until the item came into contact with fire, water, blood, or any other substance of natural energy. I hadn’t expected to find such an enchantment on a ring that still smelled faintly of slaughterfish.

After mopping up the tea I examined the ring again. Next to the athletic rune was now a symbol consisting of a circle with waves and bubbles inside it. According to the reference tome, this was an enchantment of water breathing. I couldn’t help but laugh when I read it – of all the enchantments for an Argonian to have


I quickly decided what I wanted to do with the ring, though I was nervous to do so lest my intentions be mistaken. I had no more time to think however, as the warrior duo returned.

“How did it go?” I asked, noticing that Cirinwe was just as un-armoured as she had been when I’d seen her last.

“We found some, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow.” I could see that Cirinwe was disappointed, but a little excited. No doubt she had been looking forward to getting some shiny new armour as soon as possible.

“More importantly,” Jötnar turned to me, “I’ve got a job for the guild down in Leyawiin. Care to join me?”

“What, now?” I asked.

“Well I’m going now, but you and Cirinwe can catch up after she gets her gear.” he didn’t wait for a reply, simply clapping me on the shoulder as he made his way upstairs.

“So
we’re going?” Cirinwe asked once the Nord had departed, sounding rather hopeful.

“It would appear so. If we’re wanting to catch up to Jötnar we should just hop on a boat down to Bravil.” The journey would be much shorter that way, and I still had business in Bravil anyway.

“You’re from Leyawiin, right? I look forward to seeing it.”

“Is that why you’re so excited?” I wondered out loud.

“Well
a little. Also
.” she trailed off, and I thought that was the end of it until she spoke again quietly, “the city is a little boring. It’ll be nice to get out and about with you again.” she looked a little embarrassed to admit it, but a faint smile played across her lips as she departed for her room to bathe.

I stood there dumbly for a few minutes before I gathered the books and ring and headed to my room. It hadn’t been that long since I’d last seen Leyawiin, but I echoed Cirinwe’s sentiment about getting back out into the wilderness. It had been far too long since I’d shot anything or had something try and kill me – I had a feeling that this trip would introduce plenty of both opportunities.

Posted by: ghastley Nov 4 2016, 03:11 PM

Ahh! The magic of tea!

Your Englishness is showing Haa-Rei.

Posted by: Acadian Nov 4 2016, 08:04 PM

Hee! One of the nice things about having an elven character is license to use words like ‘swordsmership’.

“Well I’ll be a wamasu’s wet nurse
”

I enjoyed your description and logic of how Haa-Rei discovered the enchantments on the fisherman’s ring.

There is no doubt who he intends to give it to. If he needs any encouragement in that direction, he but needs to listen to Ciri’s words and read her manner around him. I love the delicate dance between the two of them and hope that Scales and Scars can find a future together.

Posted by: hazmick Nov 11 2016, 03:45 PM

ghastley - I've long thought that tea-craft should have its own school of magic.

Acadian - Scales and Scars has a good ring to it (no pun intended). They're getting there, gradually.



Previously - With some time to himself, Haa-Rei investigated the mysterious fisherman's ring and discovered a hidden enchantment. He and Cirinwe then agree to journey to Leyawiin, to meet up with Jötnar while he has business there...

Chapter 51



It was a warm day, though the cool air over Lake Rumare made sure that the ferry ride to Bravil wasn’t uncomfortable. Other than that I couldn’t tell you anything else about that morning, since I spent the entire boat ride with my eyes fixed firmly on my travelling companion.

We’d been to pick up Cirinwe’s armour from the smith, and she’d wasted no time in wearing it. The cuirass was split into two parts – the first was a chainmail vest which covered the lower torso, while a solid plate covered the upper torso. The shoulders were protected by layered strips of heavy leather, with one shoulder also featuring a heavy pauldron of overlapping metal strips. This overlapping metal design was repeated on the forearms, thighs and shins. The waist, hands, legs, and feet were all protected by more dark, heavy leather. The metal was a warm gold colour, a shade lighter than Dwemer metal, and adorned with intricate vine motifs. The whole ensemble gave Cirinwe protection to vital areas, while still allowing a good deal of movement and flexibility. There was also the telltale feel of magic about it, which suggested that at least one piece was enchanted. All in all, the armour (and the Mer) was absolutely gorgeous.

After collecting the gear we’d made it just in time to catch the not-quite-midday ferry that headed south. The ferry was large enough to comfortably fit perhaps a dozen passengers in the designated passenger area, though the large cargo area could accommodate a lot more people if needed.

“You’re staring,” Cirinwe said suddenly, “and fidgeting.”

“Ah, sorry.” I was indeed staring, though I hadn’t realised that I was fidgeting, and looked down to see that I had been playing with the fisherman’s ring.

“Is that the ring?” my companion asked.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I
er
found out what enchantments it has.”

“Oh?”

“Well the secondary enchantment is athletics, and the primary is
water breathing.” I smiled again, still finding it amusing. Cirinwe began laughing too.

“I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised, but it would have been helpful to have it before he asked someone to go and wrestle slaughterfish. I could have helped.” she echoed the thoughts that had popped into my head when I’d first discovered the enchantment.

“You can help next time. Here.” I held out the ring, clicking my tongue subconsciously as a sign that I was more than a little embarrassed.

Cirinwe looked at me for a long moment, and I thought she was going to say something. Finally she settled on a simple “thank you” and smiled brightly. She slid the ring onto a slender finger – a perfect fit. I almost hoped that this boat ride would last forever.

Eventually though the boat drifted in to dock at Bravil. Dock workers began exchanging cargo at lightning speed, and it was a struggle to get through the throng of crates, barrels, and muscles.

Once on the other side, we found a bench and sat down to plan our trip. Moving alone, Jötnar would make good time to Leyawiin, and we were to meet him there when we could. Before that, though, we were going to take a little detour, to fulfil a promise I had made when I had last been in Bravil.

“So this is payment for your bow?” asked Cirinwe once we’d left town. I had told her the story of how I came into possession of my Hist wood bow, which was why we were currently heading towards the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll.

“Yes. I have to clear out the ruin, and return to the bowyer. It shouldn’t take long.” I wasn’t sure what to expect though. All I knew was that the ruin was ‘overrun by monsters’, which was a little too vague for my liking, but it was something I’d gradually grown used to as an adventurer.

The ruin lay a short distance from the walls of Bravil. It was such a short distance, in fact, that I couldn’t see any reason for the town guards to ignore it. The campsite at the entrance to the ruin suggested that someone was keeping an eye on it, though there was no sign of recent activity. The townsfolk were lucky that whatever creatures lurked within the ruin had decided to stay away from town.

“Are you ready?” I asked Cirinwe, who adjusted the straps on her gauntlets and nodded. Even if her hands hadn’t been shaking, it was clear that she was nervous. This would be her first taste of actual combat, but I had faith in her strength and Jötnar’s training.

We carefully slipped in through the open door and made our way inside. The entrance chamber was small, and branched off in three different directions. I lifted my snout into the air and breathed in all of the different scents. The dusty, cold scent that seems to permeate every Ayleid ruin was strong, but I could detect two other distinct scents – imps and a troll. The former wouldn’t be a problem, but the latter


“I can deal with the troll. I think.” Cirinwe replied once I’d given my report. She’d readied her weapon, a surprisingly brutal looking axe with a wooden haft and a single broad blade, sharpened to a wicked edge. A faint golden glow surrounded her hands, no doubt she had several spells ready and waiting.

“We’ll deal with it together. I’ll lead, we’ll move slowly and quietly.” I set off at a half crouch, and heard Cirinwe fall in behind me. Her armour made very little noise, and I guessed that it had some form of muffling enchantment.

We moved so quietly that the first imp we met went down without raising the alarm, its frail body falling prey to my arrow. Three more imps went down in a similar fashion, and I almost got a fourth, but my arrow went a little wide and succeeded only in tearing the creature’s wing.

The imp let out a shriek, but it was cut short by a spear of golden light punching through its chest. I turned and nodded my thanks to Cirinwe, and we both immediately froze as a bestial roar echoed through the hallway.

“I think the troll knows we’re here.” Cirinwe said, doing her best to avoid looking too terrified.

“So it would seem. Well, best not keep it waiting.” I turned toward the source of the sound, and together we headed deeper into the ruin.

At least it wouldn’t be boring.

Posted by: Acadian Nov 11 2016, 09:31 PM

“I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised, but it would have been helpful to have it before he asked someone to go and wrestle slaughterfish. I could have helped.” she echoed the thoughts that had popped into my head when I’d first discovered the enchantment.’ - - Heh, I believe this thought has popped into the heads of everyone who has ever done that quest.

Smitten. Yup. Haa-Rei is definitely smitten.

’The imp let out a shriek, but it was cut short by a spear of golden light punching through its chest.’ - - WooHoo! I know what that spear of golden light is!

I love how you take this story wherever it needs to go, from Oblivion to ESO and back.

Posted by: Grits Nov 11 2016, 09:41 PM

I was laughing out loud at Haa-Rei and Jötnar's exchange at the boarding house before their sparring match. I'm enjoying the warming relationship between Haa-Rei and Cirinwe very much. I love how Ciri's growth into weapons and armor felt perfectly natural. Seeing her through Haa-Rei's eyes is a delight.

Woo, a tall, golden womer wielding spears of pure light, yay for Ciri!:D

Posted by: ghastley Nov 11 2016, 09:55 PM

I do too, but it can get very confusing when it's things from a game I've never played. At least there's a consistent time-line, and we're not jumping back and forth a couple of centuries at a time. I do like the way the other provinces aren't "out of bounds" and things can be rare imports. There are some good mods that do that, so it's not unfamiliar, either.

Posted by: hazmick Nov 18 2016, 02:20 PM

Acadian - Hopefully Templar Ciri fits doesn't seem too out of place in Oblivion with her fancy new magicks.

Grits - Yay for Templars! Divine magic and heavy armour are two things no girl should be without.

ghastley - I hope it doesn't get too confusing. Sometimes I even forget what stuff comes from which game.



Previously - After getting Cirinwe equipped for her role as a swordsmer, she and Haa-Rei set off for Bravil. Once there, the duo decided to clear the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll. After a successful start, the two adventurers hear a troll from deeper in the ruin and move to investigate...

Chapter 52



The troll was standing off to one side in a large, open chamber. It looked as if it had once shared this chamber with more imps, but their discoloured corpses now lay slumped on the ground in the middle of the room, . I could smell the faintest hint of some sort of poison, no doubt the work of some kind of Ayleid trap.

The troll itself was pretty standard as trolls go. A large, hunched mass of stinking fur which breathed heavily and growled to itself. At the end of each long arm was a set of gore-encrusted claws. I could see the fatty coating on its fur glinting in the pale Ayleid lights as the creature paced back and forth.

Cirinwe and I wasted no time in getting to work, beginning our assault with a salvo of magic and arrows. Of the three arrows that I fired in quick succession, only one actually hit home - the other two failing to penetrate the creatures greasy hide.

Cirinwe’s spells had a much more significant effect. Two lazy orbs of golden light floated over to the creature and exploded on impact, showering the troll with golden flames that seemed to catch almost immediately on the flammable fat. The creature howled but continued its awkward advance, lolling towards us in that shambling half-run that trolls seem to favour. Its three black eyes were completely focused on Cirinwe, and I did my best to assure myself that she would be fine.

Of course I needn’t have worried. Cirinwe moved so as to place the troll between us, allowing me to fire more arrows into the creature’s back while it was busy flailing its arms at her. Despite her armour, Cirinwe was able to gracefully weave around the creature’s attacks, lashing out every so often with her axe or a spell.

An arrow to the back of the neck stunned the troll for the briefest of moments, and Cirinwe seized the opportunity, burying her axe in the monster’s skull with a dull crunch. The troll crashed to the ground, axe still in place, and lay still. The magical flames vanished with a gesture from Cirinwe, and I moved over to make sure she was unharmed.

“Are you alright?” I asked, seeing that she hadn’t even been scratched. What a relief.

“I’m fine,” She breathed heavily, clearly exhausted, “I’ve never killed anything like that before.” She smiled, proud of herself, and retrieved her axe.

“We’ve still got more to go.” I pointed to the only passage that we were yet to explore.

On further investigation it seemed that this passage lead to a large door, around which lay more dead imps, their small bodies had been crushed by some sort of blunt weapon. Together, Cirinwe and I heaved the door open, greeted by a rush of thick, musky air.

“What is that smell?” Cirinwe gagged, clamping a hand over her nose and mouth.

“That’s the smell of a minotaur.” I grinned, feeling excitement welling upon inside me.

We moved slowly and cautiously. Beyond the door lay a long corridor, with several small alcoves on either side. At the end lay another room, which would no doubt house our bovine friend. I brought my storm atronach spell to the front of my mind, just in case, and nocked an arrow. If the minotaur saw us and charged in the corridor, things could get very messy very quickly.

Fortunately the beast waited until we entered the far room before attacking. The spines on my head suddenly flashed me a warning and I ducked just in time to avoid the warhammer that had been aimed at my skull. The minotaur had been waiting by the door.

A burst of golden light from Cirinwe struck the minotaur in the middle of its broad chest, and it turned to face this new opponent, allowing me the time to open some distance between us. Although I didn’t doubt her bravery and natural talent, a minotaur could prove a little too dangerous to Cirinwe, at least alone. I raised my hand and called forth Thiazzi the storm atronach, who thundered into existence and turned his stony face to me for instruction.

“Help Cirinwe!” I said loudly, pointing to the elf in question.

Thiazzi grumbled his acknowledgement and stomped forwards, punching the minotaur’s hammer out of its hands with a large, stone fist. The minotaur roared and charged Thiazzi, head down so as to make good use of its long horns.

The storm atronach loosened the stones of its body just before the impact, and tightened them again to catch the charging horns and trap the minotaur. Cirinwe brought her axe down hard on the creature's exposed next, killing it instantly.

Thiazzi relinquished his grip on the now-dead minotaur and turned to me, awaiting more instructions.

“Thank you, my friend. That will be all for now.” I raised my hand again and released the spell.

“Thank you!” Cirinwe called to the fading atronach, who made a quiet rumbling noise before vanishing back to Oblivion.

I scanned the room, a dead end. I also couldn't smell or hear any other signs of life. We’d done it.

“Looks like that’s everything.” I smiled at Cirinwe, and plopped myself down on the cold, white stone floor to rest. I wasn't tired at all, but Cirinwe looked about ready to collapse. After a moment the elf joined me, sitting so we were back to back.

“That was
amazing!” Cirinwe said after a few moments, her soft voice echoing in around the stony chamber. She was breathing heavily, and I could feel the heat from her body even through her armour. She was shaking slightly, no doubt the adrenaline from her first taste of combat.

“You were amazing. One would think you’d been hunting monsters all your life!” I was truly impressed by her ability after such a small amount of training.

“Thank you,” She laughed lightly, “we make quite a team.” even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was smiling.

“That we do,” I smiled too.

That we do.

Posted by: Acadian Nov 18 2016, 09:49 PM

Regarding evolving skills, gear and abiity, I think you and I have a similar perspective: Games come and go but characters are forever. That is not necessarily a better perspective, but those of us who do see things that way tend to evolve and adapt a character rather than starting a new character for a new game environment. It does bring up the challenge that you and I face to ensure we fully explain what our characters are doing/using when we intentionally view things from a TES-wide view rather than anchoring to one game.

A wonderful episode! Not only was the combat exciting and richly described, but the teamwork and growing closeness between Scales and Scars continued to blossom. And I loved seeing a visit from Thiazzi again!

Well done!

Posted by: hazmick Dec 2 2016, 04:25 PM

Acadian - Well said! Haa-Rei is Haa-Rei, regardless of where (or when) in Tamriel he may be. It's simply my job to make sure that it all gets pulled together nicely.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe finished clearing the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll, fighting a troll and a fearsome minotaur in the process. With that complete, they return to Bravil...

Chapter 53



I breathed in deeply, tasting the fresh air of the Niben Bay. After spending time in a cold ruin I always need to get myself warmed up and re-energised.

Not only had we cleared the ruin, we’d managed to take down a troll and a minotaur in the process. I’d removed the large horns of the minotaur and given one to Cirinwe, which she was utterly fascinated by. Minotaurs were indeed impressive, and a worthy encounter for even veteran adventurers.

“Back to Bravil?” Cirinwe suggested, stowing her minotaur horn in her pack.

“Yes, the bowyer is on the far end of town.” I nodded toward the town and together we made our way back. Cirinwe looked tired, as expected, but otherwise unharmed.


“The Archer's Paradox. Because a perfect arrow flies for-oh!” Daenlin’s speech had begun before we’d even entered the shop, and his already bright smile seemed to broaden even more once he recognised me.

“Hello Daenlin.” I nodded as I approached the counter.

“Welcome back, Haa-Rei, and welcome to your companion too.” the old Bosmer had to crane his neck to look up at Cirinwe, who must have been at least twice his height.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The Altmer bowed.

“Am I to assume that you two have just returned from an Ayleid adventure?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. A glint of excitement passed over the bowyer’s eyes, and I felt a little guilty for leaving the task for so long before completing it.

“Indeed we have, as I promised.” I confirmed.

“Well come on through here and have a seat. I can’t expect you to tell a riveting story of adventure and romance while you’re standing in the shop without a cup of tea in your hands.” he ushered us through to a small adjoining room, which was simply furnished but quite cosy. Cirinwe had to duck slightly to get through the door without hitting her head.

Once we had tea and a comfortable seat, I properly introduced Cirinwe and gave Daenlin our account of the Clearing of Anutwyll. He was an excellent listener – content to absorb the story in silence, and asking several concise questions at the end regarding the various creatures inside.

“Now there’s a worthy trophy!” The old mer exclaimed when Cirinwe showed him one of the minotaur’s horns.

“Thank you, though I see you are no stranger to hunting either.” she nodded at the various animal trophies dotted around the small room, including some pelts which I didn’t even recognise.

“In my youth, of course. These days I’m only quick enough to take a deer every now and then, but that’s the point of trophies – to remind us of great hunts and honour worthy foes.” He handed the horn back to Cirinwe and poured some more tea.

We stayed a little while longer at Daenlin’s, the two elves engaging in small talk while I looked at the various trophies the old mer had collected, occasionally asking about the pieces I didn’t recognise. As with many Bosmer, his stature was certainly in no way reflective of his courage and skill.

When we finally left some hours later, it was dark outside.

“Time flies like an arrow, my boy,” Daenlin said, patting me on the shoulder, “I hope you’ll both visit again.”

“Of course.” Cirinwe and I said in unison.

“May all your hunts be swift, safe, and successful.” the old mer waved as we departed.

Bravil at night has a very different feel to it than during the day. The darkness seems to cling to the alleyways and the ramshackle houses are alive with creeping shadows and suspicious figures. Growing up in Leyawiin I had heard tales of skooma dealers, thieves, and various other unlawful sorts making Bravil their home.

I’d been heading towards the Mages Guild, assuming that Cirinwe would be keen to get some rest. As usual though, my companion surprised me.

“Haa-Rei.” she began.

“Cirinwe.” I replied.

“Could we
not sleep at the guild?”

“Of course. What’s wrong with the guild?” I was curious. Free room and board in a warm guild hall was certainly difficult to pass up.

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just
we’re adventurers, right? Sleeping under the stars is what adventurers do.”

She certainly was an adventurer now. Kitted out in full heavy armour, fresh from hunting down a fearsome minotaur and clearing an ancient ruin.

“Fair enough,” I shrugged, “There are plenty of good camping spots near the ruin, and we know that the area is safe.”

And so, we headed back out towards Anutwyll. The large, flat white stones around the ruin make perfect camping spots. While I got a fire going, Cirinwe made herself some food – a selection of leaves and berries with a drizzle of olive oil. Once she had eaten we sat in silence, drinking tea and watching the stars glitter above us. I had all my senses on the alert for danger, as usual, but I felt much more relaxed. I knew that if anything should approach, Cirinwe and I would be more than able to defend ourselves.

“Haa-Rei
” Cirinwe said again after a while.

“Cirinwe.” I replied.

“I want to tell you.” she paused after that, and required a prompt before continuing.

“Tell me
”

“About myself. About why I left home. About everything. I
trust you.” Her face flushed with colour, but she looked determined.

“If you’re sure, then I would be honoured to listen to your story.” I bowed my head slightly and poured us both some more tea.

“Right. Yes.” Cirinwe cleared her throat and fidgeted around a little to get more comfortable.

Then her story began.

Posted by: Acadian Dec 2 2016, 08:02 PM

What a wonderful surprise to spend an afternoon drinking tea with Buffy’s godfather, Daenlin!

’As with many Bosmer, his stature was certainly in no way reflective of his courage and skill.’ - -

I love that Cirinwe wanted to sleep under the stars – and understand it perfectly. I see that she is finally comfortable enough with Haa-Rei to share her story.

What a joy Haa-Rei’s story continues to be!

Posted by: hazmick Dec 12 2016, 03:35 PM

Acadian - Indeed, we are finally learning more about our Altmer friend.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe met with Daenlin the Bowyer, and spent a while chatting over tea about the Bosmer's many adventures. Afterwards, Cirinwe decided that the two adventurers would sleep under the stars, but not before she told Haa-Rei her story...

Chapter 54



“Thank you, my lord.” said Ailinwe, bowing and exiting the room.

“Well?” whispered Cirinwe excitedly. Ailinwe shook her head.

“He won’t give me the loan. He
reminded me that baking is not a proper profession for someone of our social standing.”

Cirinwe hugged her sister tightly. All Ali wanted to do was open a bakery, and she was certainly talented enough. Once Cirinwe graduated at the academy, they would surely have enough money for it between the two of them.

“Cirinwe.” a stern voice called from the room, causing Cirinwe’s body to stiffen. She released her sister and entered the chamber where her father was waiting.

“Father.” she said flatly, standing up straight.

She hated her father. He was a cold, uncaring man. Shorter than Cirinwe and her sister, with thin golden hair swept back to resemble the prow of a ship. He peered at her from behind the grimace which seemed to be a permanent feature on his face. The walls of his study were lined with more books than Cirinwe could count, many with Ayleid text on their covers despite the fact that Father couldn’t read it. Cirinwe’s mother, also a stern figure, sat to one side like an owl watching for mice.

“Do not concern yourself with your sister, you have more important things to think about.” Father said sharply.

“Yes father.” Cirinwe replied dutifully. She had long since given up on talking back to him, yet he stilled eyed her suspiciously for any sign of sarcasm or, Aetherius forbid, defiance.

“I need not remind you,” Father began, “that you carry the future of this house upon your shoulders. Unlike your sister, you will not fail me.” he waved his hand, dismissing her. Cirinwe gritted her teeth and bowed to each parent in turn before exiting.

Cirinwe almost wanted to fail, just to annoy him. She knew she would not, of course, as she was one of the most gifted mages at the academy. She had spent months planning and preparing this particular spell, and was more than confident that she’d perfected it.

Graduating from the academy almost guaranteed a student with a good position at court, or on a mage council somewhere. Of course her parents were more concerned with the status of the family name, and the marriage offers that would no doubt be made by other families hoping to capitalize on her own success. Ailinwe, who had no magical talent, was seen as a disappointment by their parents, but as long as Cirinwe continued to do well, Ailinwe was allowed to do as she pleased.

“Have you thought any more about what I said?” Ailinwe asked later that night. Their chambers were at the far end of the family’s large manor, which afforded them plenty of privacy.

“About leaving? I’m
not sure.” Cirinwe replied. Her sister had previously talked about leaving home, and Cirinwe was torn between a desire to get away from their parents, and a fear of them. She didn’t think it likely that they would let their best asset simply walk off into the sunset.

“We’d go far away. Morrowind, perhaps, or High Rock.”

“We have no money of our own.” Cirinwe reminded her sister.

“We could get jobs. I’m a good cook, and you’re one of the most powerful mages at the academy. We’d be fine.” Ailinwe was determined, and also a little desperate. Cirinwe could well understand, but she was still afraid. They’d never left Auridon before, and the world seemed like such a large place that it would be too easy for someone to get lost.

Cirinwe didn’t reply, and after a few minutes of silence Ailinwe went to bed, clearly disappointed. After tomorrow’s examination, Cirinwe would be in a better position from which she could help her sister. Still, that night her mind kept looping back to that conversation and sleep did not come easily.


Cirinwe wasn’t actually sure where the academy was. It was definitely somewhere on Auridon, but all staff and students accessed the grounds via teleportation. It was built in the traditional Altmer style, with pale stones and tall, shining towers of crystal. The whole area hummed with magic thanks to a large Ayleid well beneath the main building, which allowed mages to cast spells as they pleased. Even people like Cirinwe, born under the sign of the Atronach, could replenish their magicka here.

The most impressive part of the structure was the Grand Chamber. As the name suggests, it was a vast hall of white stones with elaborate statues and carvings lining the walls. At regular intervals on the floor were circular rings of stones embedded with runes, and nearby viewing platforms from which spectators could judge the students. It was in such a rune circle that Cirinwe soon found herself. Plenty of students were gathered in the hall, and Cirinwe could feel the eyes of the examiners upon her as she tried to calm herself down.

“The candidate for Destruction Mastery – Cirinwe.” A shrill voice announced over the crowd, causing everyone to lower their voices. It wasn’t just at home that expectations were high.

Having mastered all of the destruction spells that could be taught to her, Cirinwe had had to invent some of her own. This latest spell, which she had hubristically named ‘Rising Phoenix’, would be her most powerful spell yet, and likely use up her entire magicka pool even after two fortifying potions. It would also guarantee top marks on the assessment, which was what mattered.

It was a complicated spell, with verbal cues in Ayleidoon and several different gestures. The crowd was mesmerised by Cirinwe’s movements, her flawless golden skin reflecting the flickering lights as embers danced across her slender fingers. She could feel all of her magicka being channelled into the spell as she finished casting. From her outstretched hands rose a large ball of flame, which unfurled itself into the shape of a massive bird and took flight over her head, circling the rune stones on burning wings. It was beautiful.

As with the previous evening, the conversation with Ailinwe rose unbidden to the front of Cirinwe’s mind. She wanted to go with Ali, to run away, to be happy and free like the bird overhead, rising higher and higher towards the ceiling.

A gasp from the crowd snapped her attention back to the present, and then everything went wrong.

Posted by: ghastley Dec 12 2016, 04:15 PM

"hubristically" may be telegraphing a bit too much, but it's close to the cliffhanger, so maybe not.

Did you already tell us she's an Atronach? I don't remember, so it can't have played any major role so far.

And I suppose Anvil is as close to Alinor as you can get in Cyrodiil, so they didn't go any farther away from home than necessary.

Posted by: Acadian Dec 12 2016, 05:01 PM

It is fascinating to go into Cirinwe’s past and begin to discover some of the things that have forged her. You impart a wonderfully exotic feel to the Altmeri rather harsh culture.

A beautiful description of her spell as she cast it. . . into a cliffhanger! Can’t wait to find out what happened/went wrong.

Posted by: ghastley Dec 12 2016, 05:14 PM

And forgot to mention. Cirinwe's much better at naming spells than Delphine Jend.

Posted by: hazmick Dec 17 2016, 12:35 AM

ghastley - heh, it was either that or "really good and hot flame spell."

Acadian - I'm not sure why, but I've always seen Altmer as more formal and sharp than other races. Maybe they just seem that way when compared to, say, Nords.



Previously - We began the tale of Cirinwe's past, as she prepared for a final exam at a magical academy with a particularly powerful spell...

Chapter 55



It’s dark, thought Cirinwe. Though after a few moments she began to realise that her eyes were actually covered. She tried to remove whatever was covering them, but found that her limbs wouldn’t respond, as if she were dreaming. Her throat was dry and sore as if she’d be shouting at the top of her voice, and when she tried to speak she couldn’t make anything more than a raspy squeak come out. She thought she could hear someone, but they sounded dull and muffled.

With nothing else to do, Cirinwe tried to think. Her head felt thick and stuffy, but she willed herself to try and remember what had happened.

She’d been casting a spell, the spell, but lost concentration. Then
fire, and pain. She’d used all of her magic to cast the spell, which left none to correct it when it went wrong. Luckily her atronach ability seemed to have absorbed much of it. Well, she assumed that’s what had happened. Perhaps it hadn’t. Perhaps she had died. If so, she thought, the afterlife leaves much to be desired.

She heard the voice again, and tried to speak to it with much the same result as before.

She could feel something touching her lips, and then a cool liquid began to pour into her mouth. It was so refreshing that Cirinwe wanted to cry, but instead she continued to drink until there was nothing left. When she tried to speak again, her voice came out as a croak, but it was at least audible.

“What
is happening?” She managed. Even her own voice sounded muffled, so she decided that something must be wrong with her ears.

There was no reply, but she could feel someone touching her cheek with cool, slender hands. The hands began fidgeting with the side of Cirinwe’s head, before she realised that they were removing whatever had been covering her eyes. Her vision began to return, slowly, and only in one eye.

She was in her bedroom, lying on her bed, and Ailinwe was sitting beside her. Cirinwe blinked a few times until everything stopped being blurry.

“Ali?” She asked, trying ineffectively to sit up. Her sister’s eyes were red and puffy from crying.

“Oh thank goodness you’re awake.” Ailinwe sobbed, hugging Cirinwe tightly.

“Ali, what happened? What’s wrong with me?” Cirinwe felt a little frightened.

“Something went wrong with your spell, you’ve been very badly burned. The academy healers did their best, but it might take some time to recover.” Ailinwe cleared her throat and helped Cirinwe into a sitting position, holding a cup of water to Cirinwe's lips.

“
but I don’t feel injured." Cirinwe said between sips. "Though I can’t hear you very well, and only one eye is working.”

“You’ve been given a light paralysis potion, to help you sleep and ease the pain. As for your eyes and ears, you’re covered in bandages. Here, let’s get some of them off.” Ailinwe leaned over and began to remove bandages from Cirinwe’s head and torso, revealing the injuries underneath. Cirinwe began to cry.

Her skin, once so smooth and flawless, was now a ruined mess of scars and blisters. The entire left side of her torso had been burned, as well as both wrists, hands, and the left side of her face. Ailinwe used her sleeve to dry Cirinwe’s eyes and gently applied a cooling ointment to the burned areas.

“Once the potion wears off, it will hurt a lot. You’ll be able to move though, and this cream should help.”

“Thank you.” Cirinwe said. It didn’t seem like there were any words that could accurately express how she was feeling. Then she remembered something. “Ali
about what you were saying before
about leaving.”

“Yes?”

“I want to. We should.” Cirinwe had made her decision. No doubt setting oneself on fire was a certain failure of the academy exam. All she had left in life was her sister, and if Ali wanted to leave, Cirinwe would follow.

“Good. Thanks Ciri,” Ali smiled widely, and Cirinwe wondered when she had last seen such a happy expression on her sister’s face. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re well enough.”

“We’ll leave as soon as I can walk.” Cirinwe decided. She thought her sister was about to disagree, but decided against it.

Ailinwe stayed by Cirinwe’s bedside all night and all through the next day. The only other visitors were the occasional maid who came to deliver food and stare in horror at her mistress’s injuries. Cirinwe’s parents remained in their study.

It was on the second night that the potion finally wore off, and Cirinwe took several wobbly steps around the room. Her legs hadn’t been burned, but she was still a little shaky, and without the potion to dull the pain her burns felt as if she was rolling in needles. She collapsed back onto her bed and began to sob, but Ailinwe was right there with more ointment and plentiful hugs.

“You don’t have to push yourself, we’ve waited 60 years to leave this house, and a few more days wouldn’t hurt.” She applied fresh bandages to the ointment covered areas, her steady hands moving swiftly and carefully.

“No. Tonight. Please.” Cirinwe said, still determined.

They waited until after midnight, when they were sure their parents and household staff had retired for the night, and crept out of the house. The only luggage they could carry was Cirinwe’s magic satchel which, although enchanted to carry a deceptively large amount of items, was not infinite.

From the house they made their way into town and down to the docks, with Cirinwe having to rest every few minutes and lean on her sister when they walked. The exertion was making her sweat, and her bandages felt slimy and uncomfortable.

Even at this time of night the docks were still surprisingly busy. Cirinwe supposed that the ocean didn’t abide by regular work hours, so ships would be coming and going constantly. Which was good news for her and her sister.

After Ailinwe had talked to the sixth or seventh sailor, they found a Redguard merchant willing to take them on in return for a small sum of gold and provided that Ailinwe would cook for the crew on the voyage. They would be going to High Rock.

Posted by: Acadian Dec 17 2016, 10:52 PM

What a fascinating, if tragic, story behind Cirinwe’s scars that flows logically into departing her homeland. It does answer many questions and I’m so glad her injuries weren’t even worse.

She’s a strong elf. Even so, her self-consciousness seeps out sometimes. I’m glad she’s got Haa-Rei to share her story with.

Posted by: hazmick Dec 30 2016, 01:23 PM

Acadian - I'm glad some questions have been answered, but there's plenty more story to tell



Previously - Cirinwe awoke to find herself scarred and wounded, but alive. Seeing this as a sign, she and Ailinwe left home, bound for High Rock...

Chapter 56



The journey from Auridon to High Rock was long but uneventful. Cirinwe spent most of her time in the small cabin that had been provided for herself and Ailinwe, with only the occasional trip to the deck of the ship for some fresh air.

The crew of the ship was made up mainly of Redguards and Khajiit. The former were muscular and skilled swordsmen, while the latter were nimble enough to clamber around the ship’s rigging without any trouble. They were a pleasant enough group of people, but their manner was a little rougher than Cirinwe was used to. Ailinwe, however, was incredibly popular with the crew, mainly due to her excellent cooking. This was the first time that the two Altmer sisters had met anyone that wasn’t another Altmer.

The ship carried them first to Stros M’kai, a little to the north of Auridon, and then to a town on the coast of mainland Hammerfell. From there they followed the coast north until they reached their destination – the City of Wayrest. Rather than settling down there, Ailinwe followed some advice given to her by the ship’s captain, and the two Altmer headed further north. No doubt finding work and lodgings in a city as large as Wayrest would be difficult, but their final destination would apparently have plenty of opportunities for Ailinwe. When they arrived, Cirinwe could see why.

The town, which Cirinwe thought was more of a hamlet, was named Moorvale on maps, but Cirinwe wondered if its residents even knew that maps had been invented. The central feature of Moorvale was a partially ruined castle with the town appearing to spread out from there. The buildings were of the classic Breton style - wattle and daub, with thatched roofs and a small garden at the front. The area around Moorvale was mainly farmland, and Cirinwe noticed that there were more cows than people here.

“It’s very charming.” Ailinwe declared when they first arrived. Like Cirinwe, she wasn’t used to such a rural location.

“It’s nice.” Cirinwe decided. She was looking forward to the peace and quiet of the countryside.

At least, that’s what she thought. As it turned out, the countryside was just as active and noisy as many urban areas. The two Altmer found lodgings in a tavern on the outskirts of town, and every morning Cirinwe was awoken by the sound of cows being moved from field to shed for their daily milking. For the first couple of days she found this to be extremely aggravating, but after a while she began to get used to it. She also began to get used to the food here, which was simple yet filling.

She had assumed Ailinwe would be making her food, but her sister had managed to find herself some work as a cook at the castle. Cirinwe wasn’t sure who owned the castle (everyone simply referred to them as ‘His Lordship’ and ‘Her Ladyship’) but according to Ailinwe they were a very nice couple, and well-liked by the townsfolk.

As for the townsfolk themselves, Cirinwe tended to avoid them. Nobody had been rude to her, quite the opposite in fact, but if she wore her bandages she would receive looks of pity, and without bandages her horrific scars would make people uncomfortable. She was also significantly taller than anyone else in town, which made her stand out even more. As a result, she spent a great deal of time in her room, reading whatever books she could find and watching the world go by outside.

Her room looked out directly onto farmland, and beyond that lay a vast forest. According to the locals, the forest was haunted by the spirits of long-dead warriors. If true, it would be fascinating to see them for herself. If untrue, it would be fascinating to see what truly lurked in the trees. Either way, Cirinwe wanted to have a look.

It was on a cool spring morning, after about 6 months of staring out of the window, that the time finally came. Ailinwe would be at work all day, and was to spend the evening with a new acquaintance. Cirinwe left her a note, packed some food, and headed towards the woods.


There were no footpaths into the forest, but the comings and goings of foxes, badgers, and the like had created a series of small tracks that Cirinwe could use. All the same, she soon found herself clambering over logs and ducking under branches as she headed deeper and deeper inside. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but if she kept walking she would no doubt find something interesting.

After a while it began to grow darker, the thick canopy overhead blotting out much of the sunlight despite it being around midday. Cirinwe had begun to get used to walking around, and was better able to pay attention to her surroundings. She’d pause every now and then to watch a bird or beast go about its business, but was soon aware that she was not travelling alone.

Every so often she would see movement at the edge of her vision, but try as she might, she couldn’t see anything. She was wondering how best to confront the issue when she wandered into a large clearing, and her stalker made an appearance.

It was a woman. She had the small frame and fair features of a Breton, with blonde hair in a thick braid over one shoulder. She wore robes of fur and hide, and leaned casually on a gnarled wooden staff.

“Outsiders should be careful in the forest. Lots of dangers for them to wander into.” the woman spoke with a heavy High Rock accent, but the meaning behind her words was clear enough.

“Forgive me for intruding in your forest. My name is Cirinwe.” she bowed slowly.

For a brief moment it looked as if the Breton had smiled, but she didn’t introduce herself in turn. Instead she gestured for Cirinwe to follow, and set off into the woods.

“Where are we going?” Cirinwe asked, struggling to keep up.

“No questions, no noise.” the Breton didn’t even slow her pace to reply, but visibly flinched whenever Cirinwe snapped a twigged or stumbled on a root. No noise was going to be difficult.

Quickly and (almost) silently they moved on, deeper into the forest and the gathering dark.

Posted by: Acadian Dec 30 2016, 08:57 PM

A wonderfully described journey and period of time settling into their new farm-surrounded castle town.

I hope the mysterious Breton that Cirinwe encountered is a friend. I should imagine that friends of the forest would much more readily see past the self-conscious Altmer’s scars.

Posted by: ghastley Jan 4 2017, 10:29 PM

Just getting back to this.

If I'd started reading at this point, I'd be wondering what this had to do with Argonians. Maybe a reminder in each episode that she's telling the story to Haa-Rei?

I'd expect her to be wearing a robe and hood, as it's regular mage garb, and wouldn't draw extra attention. Plain ones don't particularly say "mage" either. Just so long as nobody thinks she's Ma'iq...

Posted by: hazmick Jan 6 2017, 03:13 PM

Acadian - You might be right. Though of course there is a big difference between how people actually see Ciri and how she thinks they do.

ghastley - Oh, good point.



Previously - Cirinwe continued telling the story of her past to Haa-Rei, specifically the time she first arrived in High Rock. After hearing rumours about a haunted forest, she decided to see it for herself.

Chapter 57



The Breton had begun to slow her pace, for which Cirinwe was very grateful. They’d been moving through the woods at a very brisk walk, and Cirinwe was covered in bits of leaf, twig, and mud. By contrast, her silent companion seemed to glide through the forest like a spirit – clearly she was very much at home in the dark woodland.

They stopped abruptly, and it was all Cirinwe could do to stay upright and not double over to gasp for breath.

“We’re here.” the Breton said, gesturing with a nod of the head.

‘Here’ looked very much like any other part of the forest. The only difference being a standing stone, maybe a head shorter than Cirinwe and carved with swirling patterns that glowed faintly like Welkynd stones.

“What is here?” Cirinwe asked, hoping that she hadn’t just been dragged through the woods to see a single stone.

“This is a barrier stone, there’s a big ring of them all around the village. Step inside.” she explained. As if to reassure Cirinwe, the Breton took a few steps forward, and once past the standing stone she gestured for the High Elf to follow.

As soon as Cirinwe walked past the stone, she understood. The stones act not only as a barrier, but as a shroud – concealing this patch of forest from view. What had once been just another clump of trees was now a large clearing, with several huts dotted about and people going about their business.

The first thing that Cirinwe noticed was that they were all women, and all wore the same fur and hide outfits as the Breton. Their group seemed to consist mainly of Bretons, Nords, and Argonians, though there were women of every race gathered in the clearing. Many were busying themselves with preparing food, mending clothes, or crafting strange decorations of bone, wood, and feathers.

The Breton gestured for Cirinwe to follow, and they made their way toward the largest hut, drawing many stares from those they passed. Cirinwe could feel her face flush with embarrassment, knowing full well that they were staring at her bandages.

The outside of the huts was an odd design of twisting wood, which Cirinwe had seen once before in a book about Bosmer culture. In fact it looked more like a short, fat tree had been hollowed out and fitted with windows and a door. Inside, it was surprisingly dark. The windows were covered by curtains, and the small fire in the room’s centre did little to illuminate anything.

“I’ve brought her.” said the Breton into the gloom.

“Oh, excellent. Thank you, Amelie.” A voice replied. The Breton nodded and left Cirinwe alone with whomever the voice belonged to.

“My name is Cirinwe.” She introduced herself with a bow. She wasn’t sure if she was bowing in the right direction but it was so dark that they likely wouldn’t see it anyway.

“I know. I’ve been expecting you for a while now – I thought you were never going to get here.” The voice said. “Sings, describe her to me.”

With that, the fire suddenly sputtered into life and several glowing orbs appeared around the room. It was as bright inside now as it had been outside, and Cirinwe could see who she was talking to.

There were two people, an Orc and an Argonian, seated on a pile of large cushions at the back of the room. As expected, both women were wearing the same fur and hide clothing as those outside.

The Orc’s entire body was covered in paint. Black, with a blue skeleton design that seemed to loosely trace her own bones. Her head was shaved, but for several thick dreadlocks on top, which reached down her back. The most striking thing about her was her eyes, which were simply black – no discernable pupils or colours.

The Argonian was a lot less...unusual. Her scales were thick like tree bark, and a beautiful dark purple colour. Several horns on her head poked through her hood, and her bright, amber eyes regarded Cirinwe carefully.

“She’s an Altmer. Very tall, with golden skin and silvery hair like a field of wheat on a warm Last Seed day. Her eyes are bright, but sad. She’s also covered in mud and twigs, not used to the woods.” The Argonian described Cirinwe, while the Orc stared vaguely in Cirinwe’s direction. Presumably she was blind.

“What about the scars?” The Orc asked, touching her own face in the places that Cirinwe had been burned. Now it was getting confusing.

“Oh, yes. Recent burns, on the left side of her body, currently covered with bandages. So this is the one?” after her description she turned to the Orc and asked the question.

“It would seem so,” The Orc nodded and climbed to her feet, picking up the staff that had been on the floor beside her, “we need to talk. Come.” she waved at Cirinwe and left the hut, the Argonian stayed on the cushions.

“Can I ask a question?” Cirinwe asked as she followed the Orc out of the hut and through the village. For a blind woman, the Orc moved extremely quickly on her long legs.

“Ask as many as you like, I’m sure you have plenty.”

“Right, yes, thank you. So
who are you?” the simplest questions are often the best place to start.

“My name is Lagakha. Yes, I’m blind, but I can still see you. I am the leader of this coven.” the Orc was obviously used to such questions, which made Cirinwe feel a little silly to ask them.

“How can you see me if you’re blind?” the words tumbled out of Cirinwe’s mouth before she’d had a chance to think about them.

“I can see your soul. To me, people are just blobs of colour and light in the darkness. That’s why I had Sings-to-Trees describe you. Might as well get this out of the way – I had a vision about you.” the Orc stopped her march in a quiet spot beside a river and sat down on a large rock. Cirinwe didn’t even know where to start.

Coven? Soul? Vision? Perhaps I’ve eaten something funny and this is all some bizarre hallucination. Or perhaps this forest is a lot more interesting than I first thought.

Posted by: Acadian Jan 6 2017, 08:02 PM

As one who travels inside a Bosmer, I found this woodsy episode delightful! I loved the shroud stone guardians protecting the coven's secrets from prying eyes. And what adorable little huts the trees have so kindly provided. Your descriptions brought the village as well as the fascinating Lagakha and Sings-to-Trees vibrantly to life.

Can't wait to learn more of why Cirinwe is significant to this mysterious coven.

Posted by: hazmick Jan 20 2017, 03:18 PM

Acadian - Unfortunately Cirinwe isn't quite as comfortable with the woods just yet. Perhaps, after spending time with a certain Argonian, she'll change her mind.



Previously - Continuing with her story, Cirinwe told Haa-Rei of her meeting with a mysterious coven of mages deep in the woods, and their leader Lagakha's visions...

Chapter 58



“A vision?” Cirinwe asked, perching on a mossy rock just across from Lagakha.

“As I said, I’m a priestess of Kyne. Sometimes she shows me things. Things that were, things that are, and some things that will be. A few weeks ago she showed you, arriving in the village.”

“For what purpose?”

“I wouldn’t want to presume the intentions of a god, but I’ve seen your future. You have the potential to do great things. Perhaps Kyne herself will call on you one day.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all
” Cirinwe said doubtfully. ‘Great’ is hardly the word she would use to describe herself.

“Right now, I’d agree with you.” Lagakha replied bluntly.

“Can
you tell me about my future?”

“If Kyne wanted you to see it, she’d show you. Just know that if you’d seen what was in store for you, you’d dance naked through the woods.” the Orc laughed, though Cirinwe couldn’t possibly imagine anything that would make her happy enough to disrobe in such a place.

“How am I supposed to know where to go, or what to do, if I don’t know what Kyne wants of me?”

“That’s where I come in. You’re a talented mage, even for a High Elf, and I’ll help you regain your confidence. After that, the world will take you where it will, and things will happen as they happen.” Lagakha nodded to herself, clearly satisfied with her vague wisdom.

“You’re going to teach me magic? I’m not sure
” Cirinwe looked down at her scarred and bandaged hands. How can she be a talented mage if she can’t even make it through the academy?

“You haven’t cast a spell since you burned yourself, so we’ll start there. You pursued destruction magic at the urging of your parents, but your aura is not that of a destruction mage.” Lagakha’s visions had apparently been quite thorough.

“What kind of mage am I?”

“Your aura is warm, but not hot. A pure golden colour. You have a natural affinity for restoration magic.”

Cirinwe had never considered restoration magic before. Perhaps if she had, things would have turned out differently. She certainly wouldn’t be in this situation, though whether or not that was a good thing


“I don’t really know any restoration spells.” Cirinwe admitted.

“No matter, we’ll start small. You can cast a minor healing spell, correct? Give it a try.” The Orc climbed to her feet and moved a few paces back to give Cirinwe enough room to cast.

Cirinwe was nervous. She wasn’t even sure if she remembered how to cast the spell, and even the hint of magic made her scars tingle. She raised her hand and cast the spell, but nothing happened. Two more attempts met with similar failure.

“It
won’t work
” Cirinwe sighed.

“Hmm. Let’s see
” Lagakha shuffled around to stand behind Cirinwe and placed her hand on the Altmer’s back, between her shoulder blades. “Ah, I see it now. This will hurt a bit.”

Magicka pulsed through the Orc’s hand and pain lanced through Cirinwe’s chest, driving the Altmer to her knees. It faded quickly though, and once Cirinwe had been helped up she felt a thousand times better.

“What
?” she asked, wiping her watery eyes on her sleeve.

“Imagine magicka as water in pond. When you cast a spell, the water flows out of the pond and through your body. The trauma of your failure had blocked up the pond, like weeds choking a stream. I just unblocked it. Try the spell again.”

Lagakha returned to her previous position. Cirinwe was beginning to wonder why people like that Orc didn’t run mage academies – they’d be much more successful.

Raising her hand again, Cirinwe could feel the difference. Her shoulders felt less stiff, and the knowledge of the spell came to her easily. She felt the magicka run out of her pool and blossom into the healing spell in her hand, showering her body with golden light. She had no wounds to heal, but she still felt a lot better.

“I did it!” Cirinwe laughed, clapping her hands together. She immediately regained her composure, but the smile wouldn’t leave her face.

“Yes, congratulations. You are now a novice restoration mage. The real training starts here.” Lagakha grinned.

For 3 long weeks Cirinwe was tutored in restoration magic by the coven. They were a fascinating group, and Cirinwe learned more from them than she’d ever learned before in her life. Not just magic, but things about other races and distant lands. Knowledge that only experience can bring. When it was time to leave, Cirinwe was saddened, but pleased to be returning to her sister - she had a lot to tell her.

“Will we meet again?” Cirinwe asked Lagakha, whom she had come to respect a great deal.

“I have not seen it, though it could happen. When you get to a sufficiently civilised place, you should join the Mages Guild. You’d do well there.”

“I will. Thank you.”

The walk back to the small town of Moorvale was easier than the previous journey, but only by a small margin. Cirinwe wondered if she’d ever get used to the wilderness. After getting back to town she received a very firm and emotional telling off by Ailinwe, who had been worried sick by her sister’s absence, and a decidedly more quiet and polite introduction to Ailinwe’s new family – her wife Lynette and Lynette’s daughter Marie. Soon after that they found a cheap house in the town of Anvil, Cyrodiil, and moved there together.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“
and you know the rest.” Cirinwe finished her story, waiting patiently for my reaction.

“That was
I
” I was speechless. Cirinwe had been through more than I’d realised. Her accident, a coven, travelling across half of Nirn. “thank you for telling me, Cirinwe.”

“Ciri.” she said. “I would like you to call me Ciri, if you don’t mind. We’re
quite close now, are we not?”

My jaw worked silently for a few moments, my heart having taken up residence in my mouth:

“Okay. Ciri.” I smiled.

Posted by: haute ecole rider Jan 20 2017, 03:59 PM

I've been reading Ciri's story and sorrowed in her loss and delighted in her healing.

But what gets me, really gets me, is the ending of this latest chapter, where Haa Rei tells us his heart has moved.

Wonderful!

Posted by: ghastley Jan 20 2017, 04:59 PM

I read this one a couple of times before I decided what was unsettling me about it. Lagakha is essentially telling Cirinwe "Your parents put you in a box. Let me help you escape by putting you in this other box".

I doubt that Cirinwe's talent is even confined to magic, let alone a single school. But perhaps it's your intent for her to discover that for herself, and this is just one step along that path.

Posted by: Acadian Jan 20 2017, 09:57 PM

This is beautiful on a couple levels.

I’m fascinated as Ciri begins her journey as a restoration mage of Kyne. I’m so tantalized by what I know of her future here!

It also warms my heart to see the delicate but continuing closeness growing between Scars and Scales. Neither of these two wear their emotions on their sleeves, but their feelings for each other are unmistakable.

Posted by: hazmick Jan 27 2017, 02:10 PM

haute - glad you're enjoying it! Ciri's been through a lot, but life's abrasions have polished her into an absolute gem.

ghastley - Very true. Though of course there are some people who like to be put in a box, given a path etc. and sometimes one needs help from a kind Argonian to escape their restraints...

Acadian - Scars and Scales are certainly making progress, slowly but surely. Rest assured, even someone as tall as Ciri has plenty of room to grow



Previously - Cirinwe finished her story, telling Haa-Rei about the training she received while in High Rock. With their bond strengthened, the two companions continue their journey...

Chapter 59



The next morning, Cirinwe and I continued our journey towards Leyawiin. My companion seemed to be in a good mood, as if sharing her tale had lightened a great burden she’d been lugging around. I, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling as chipper.

The niggling feeling of discomfort that had plagued me on my previous trip had begun to return. Again, it was not painful, but it was such a distraction that I didn’t hear or smell the ogre coming out of the treeline.

For a few moments the three of us simply stared at each other – the creature’s beady little eyes flicking between myself and Cirinwe as it tried to decide which one would provide the better meal.

Cirinwe didn’t give it time to choose, and stepped forward to meet the beast head-on. I fumbled with my bow but eventually managed to plant an arrow in the ogre’s chest. Cirinwe danced around the creature, dodging its massive arms and giving me a good shot. Two more arrows, one in the shoulder and another between the ribs. An opening presented itself, and Cirinwe lobbed an orb of magicka at the ogre. It appeared to be restoration magicka, but the noise made by the beast suggested that it wasn’t being restored.

Cirinwe ducked beneath another wild swing, but didn’t have time to dodge the next, blocking it with the flat side of her axe. The force knocked her back a little but she kept her balance. Another arrow bounced off the ogre’s thick skull, staggering the creature long enough for Cirinwe’s axe to bury itself in the creature’s neck.

“I think
I’m getting the hang of this
” Cirinwe laughed as she caught her breath.

“Yes. Quite proficient.” I crouched over the ogre’s carcass to retrieve my arrows. Only one was still useable. Ogre hide is tough.

“Are you alright? You seem
quieter than usual.” Cirinwe was now trying to retrieve her axe. It took several attempts, but eventually she managed to heave it from the ogre’s corpse.

“I’m
not sure. It was like this when I last came to Leyawiin. An odd feeling in the back of my mind.” I wasn’t sure how to explain it, which just made me feel more frustrated.

“Sit.” Cirinwe commanded, pointing to a nearby rock. I complied, and she followed.

Healing magic flowed from Cirinwe’s hands and into my body. Her slender fingers felt cool on the sides of my head, and the magic almost felt like it was working. A few seconds after the spell was finished, the feeling returned.

“It’s nothing serious. I’ll be fine.” I lied. In truth I wanted to dip my head into a bucket of icy water to silence the swarm of fleshflies that must have taken up residence in my skull.

“I can’t see anything physically wrong, but that ogre managed to wander up to us without alerting you
I’d say that was serious enough.” She was, as ever, correct.

We left the ogre carcass behind and continued south. We both travelled with weapons drawn, and Cirinwe’s attention was split between looking at the road and shooting glances at me. Every so often she would think of a new spell and stop to cast it on me, with no effect. After while she had to stop in order to conserve magicka.

We made camp in the same place that I had done on my last trip. I previously had Eithne the flame atronach to help out, and my heart felt a little heavier for remembering my lost companion. My current companion was still studying me, trying to figure out what was wrong. We spoke little that night, and I felt guilty for ruining Cirinwe’s earlier good mood, but every time I thought about talking my foggy mind would obscure the words. Eventually I gave up and fell into a fitful sleep.

I awoke with a start. It was still dark, but not far off sunrise. To one side, the campfire did its best to fight off the chill in the air, while to my right sat Cirinwe, holding one of my hands in hers.

“You were dreaming again.” She held up an empty vial of my lycanthropy potion. I could taste the contents on my tongue.

“Thank you, Ciri.” I squeezed her hand and sat up slowly. Between the wolf spirit and the strange feeling, my head was far too busy to process any form of embarrassment I would ordinarily be feeling.

We packed up camp and resumed our journey, with Cirinwe in charge. I was glad that she was here. Had I been alone, I probably would have wandered to my death somewhere in Blackwood. Still, both of us felt relieved when the walls of Leyawiin came into view. The town was more-or-less the same as it had been on my previous visit. An unusual number of Argonians still wandered around, many looking how my head felt. I briefly wondered why so many where in Leyawiin, if they were supposed to be in Black Marsh, but I had more pressing concerns.

I lead Cirinwe to the Three Sisters Inn, which was quiet at this time of day. Once inside, Jötnar was easy to spot – he was sitting in one corner, table strewn with empty mead bottles and tankards. The look on his face suggested that this was no celebration.

“Jötnar, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Cirinwe noticed it too. The Nord raised his head, and for a moment he looked so small and fragile.

“We
we killed them. We killed them all.”

Posted by: haute ecole rider Jan 27 2017, 08:47 PM

oh, no . . .

Water's Edge, perhaps?

That is one of the greatest tragedies in Oblivion, TBH


that's what this reminds me of . . .

Posted by: ghastley Jan 27 2017, 09:06 PM

So what was it? Explain yourself!

Posted by: Acadian Jan 27 2017, 09:13 PM

A well-described ogre fight. I like how you take the time after to detail Haa-Rei recovering his arrows – a messy but necessary task.

Ciri acquitted herself well vs the ogre but I join her in wondering the source of Haa-Rei’s distraction. Lycanthropy-related perhaps? A disturbance in the Force Hist?

Finally they arrive at Leyawiin, only to discover Jötnar trying to drink away some mysterious disaster.

Posted by: hazmick Feb 3 2017, 03:29 PM

haute - You got it. It's one of those quests that will always stick in my mind.

ghastley - Soon.

Acadian - All will be revealed.



Previously - Continuing towards Leyawiin, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe had an encounter with an ogre, where Cirinwe once again demonstrated her growing skills in combat. Once in the city, they met Jötnar, and discovered that something was very wrong...

Chapter 60



Water's Edge is a small settlement that sits on the road north of Leyawiin. A peaceful settlement of farmers and fishermen. Had Cirinwe and I arrived but a day earlier, we would have walked right through a massacre.

The Blackwood Company mercenaries had been operating out of Leyawiin for a short time, but were swiftly becoming more popular than the Fighter's Guild. Blackwoods were cheaper and never turned down a job, no matter how bad the task or the pay might be. At the order of his guild, Jötnar had been tasked with joining Blackwood and finding out their secrets. His first job with them was to help clear Water's Edge of goblins.

"When we arrived, we were given a potion to drink. They said it...they said it was Hist sap to make us fight better." Jötnar paused his tale at the mention of Hist sap, but I nodded for him to continue. There was already a sickening feeling welling up in my stomach.

"The goblins were everywhere, not a single villager in sight, so we got to work and wiped them all out. Once we were done, we pulled out, didn't even stick around to burn the bodies like the guild usually does. On the way back I started feeling dizzy and sat down for a while, the others left me behind like they were in a hurry. I..." The massive Nord's voice shook slightly, so he took a large swig of mead.

"It's alright. Take your time." Cirinwe reached over and took Jötnar’s free hand in one of her own. I saw a brief glow of magicka, most likely a stamina spell to calm the Nord down.

"I decided to head back to the village once the dizziness wore off. When I got there, there wasn't a single goblin corpse. Just dead villagers. Every single one.” Jötnar wretched at the memory, but fought it back and finished his drink.

“Jötnar. Are you able to fight right now?” I asked. He paused for a few moments, then nodded.

“Meet us in front of the Blackwood headquarters in half an hour.” I left without another word, Cirinwe following close behind.

“Explain.” The Altmer said, slowing her long stride to match mine.

“Hist sap. You can’t import it, which means they must have a source here in Leyawiin.”

“A tree? You think it’s connected to that odd feeling you’ve been having?” She caught on quick.

“I hadn’t even considered it. To physically uproot a Hist is
I don’t even have a word to describe it. Then to drink its sap?” I shook my head, as if the thought could be shaken out.

“Don’t Argonians drink the sap?” Cirinwe asked.

“Usually only once, when we first hatch. I’ll explain more later. We’re here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” My companion asked.

“Home. I need some things, come in.” I opened the door to Deeh’s house, half expecting him to be waiting for me, but it was empty. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Leaving Cirinwe in the kitchen, I headed to my bedroom. Once there, I stripped off my armour and gently rested my bow by the window. I retrieved my Legion uniform and sword from the large chest under my bed, and equipped them. My bow wouldn’t be needed, and this would all be official.

Cirinwe grinned when I returned, but didn’t say anything. We quickly made our way to the Blackwood HQ, where Jötnar was waiting. He regarded my uniform for a second and nodded firmly.

After I confirmed that my two companions were ready, we climbed the steps of the building and heaved open the doors. Once inside the doors slammed just behind us, and several members of the company entered the main hall to greet us. All were either Khajiit or Argonians, dressed in decorative heavy armour. Their hands hovered around their sheathed weapons suspiciously. One Khajiit stepped forward:

“This one is Ri’Zakar, Pakseech of the Blackwood Company. Why does the Legion come to us, in the company of a traitor?” The last word was spat at Jötnar.

“I am Legate Haa-Rei. For the production, distribution, and consumption of Hist sap, and for the murder of the residents of Water’s Edge, you are all under arrest.” I said loudly and clearly, hoping that I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt.

The Khajiit barked some orders in his native tongue and the hiss of weapons leaving their scabbards rang through the hall.

“I guess they won’t come quietly.” Jötnar grinned, his spirits apparently lifted by the thought of combat.

Ri’Zakar came at me with his claymore in a very impressive overhead swing, which I easily side-stepped. I slashed at the weak points in his armour, inside the elbow, and his sword clattered to the ground. He attempted to grab me with his uninjured arm, but the heavy plate armour was not conducive to movement and I ducked out of his reach before leaping forward, slamming my sword into his underarm. I felt the chainmail give way to the short, pointed blade of my sword. Pakseech Ri’Zakar’s body hit the wooden floor with a heavy clatter.

To my left, Cirinwe’s axe parted an Argonian’s head from his shoulders, while to my right I could see that Jötnar had already defeated two Blackwood soldiers.

“I’ve got this, you two go!” Jötnar shouted, punching a Khajiit in the face.

I grabbed a heavy key from Ri’Zakar’s belt and headed to the most impressive door I could see. As soon as it opened, the strange feeling in my head was amplified and I staggered into Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei!” She held me up until I found my feet again.

“We’re in the right place.” I slowly made my way down the stairs, down and down until we emerged into a large room. “By the Hist
” I gasped.

Before us was, indeed, a Hist tree. Its bark was pale and cracked, no leaves adorned its branches, and several metal pipes erupted from the trunk, a steady stream of sticky sap dripping into large containers. Two Argonians rushed to attack us, but they weren’t soldiers, and died quickly.

“What do we do?” Cirinwe asked, staring at the abomination before us.

I stepped forward and carefully placed one hand on the tree. Pain bloomed in my skull as the tree tried to communicate, and I wrenched my hand away. I felt blood running from my nose.

“We can’t save it. We have to
we have to kill it.” Even saying the words was difficult. The idea of killing a Hist


“How?” Cirinwe asked, though I could tell she had many more questions she was holding back.

“Fire. Fire is the only way.” I rooted around the alchemical supplies in the room until I found some fire salts. After scattering them around the base of the tree, I touched them with a torch. The effect was instantaneous – the salts erupted into flame and caught on the tree immediately. The Hist sap in the containers also caught fire and began to boil. Pain bloomed in my mind again, driving me to one knee. More blood dripped onto the stone floor from my nose and ears. My vision began to blur, my mind reeling.

I felt myself being lifted into the air, and then everything went dark.

Posted by: haute ecole rider Feb 3 2017, 04:25 PM

You know, this is my least favorite part of the whole Fighters Guild quest line in Oblivion - the Blackwood Company's imprisonment of the Hist tree.

At the time, I hadn't yet fully appreciated the symbiosis between the Hist, Nirn and the Argonians. That truly did not become apparent until I read the Infernal City and sequels, and especially after playing ESO.

Even so, Julian and I were sickened by the treatment of the Hist tree in the basement. Yes, it was Just A Tree to us, however, it was a living, breathing being (yes, plants do breathe, it's how we are able to breathe), and seeing it shackled and imprisoned like that really bothered us

Somehow you captured that feeling, and put an Argonian twist on it. It makes me even angrier that the Argonians of the Blackwood Company would tolerate such treatment of a being so integral not only to their culture but to their entire species.

This is a wonderful episode on so many levels. Thank you for writing this.

Posted by: ghastley Feb 3 2017, 04:28 PM

I've never done that quest with an Argonian character, so I've never had to think about the problems they could have with the tree's demise.

And of course, the developers didn't...

Edit: I just noticed that you skipped the bits where Ja'Fazir has had to lock Jeetum-Ze in his room, and the latter has locked Ri'Zakar in his. Presumably at least one of the two is sufficiently deranged to require that in the vanilla game.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 3 2017, 09:54 PM

A gut-wrenching backdrop to this episode.

I especially enjoyed how true to themselves that your characters we have come to know were. Ciri nurturingly reached out with her newfound healing touch to soothe Jotnar. Haa-Rei wordlessly and grimly set to the task he knew he had to do. Jotnar’s mood improved notably with combat at hand.

In ESO I’ve gained an appreciation for some of the similarities regarding how Argonians and Bosmer view and interact with the natural world they live in.

Well done!

Posted by: hazmick Feb 10 2017, 03:40 PM

haute - Same here, the Infernal City was the first major bit of Hist/Argonian lore that I encountered before ESO came along. Looking back on this quest now really changes my feelings towards it. I'm glad it was as interesting to read as it was for me to write.

ghastley - Yes, it's not quite as deep in the game. I guess that's why fanfics exist. I decided to leave out the "get key from X" parts to save some time, but I'll touch on it later. Drinking Hist sap does indeed have some long term effects on the mind.

Acadian - I had the exact same thought regarding Bosmer and Argonians while exploring Valenwood. Trees are absolutely vital for each race. Glad you enjoyed it!



Previously - After hearing Jötnar's harrowing tale of the Water's Edge massacre and the use of Hist sap, the three friends moved swiftly against the Blackwood mercenaries. Haa-Rei was then forced to destroy their Hist tree, which had been driven mad from months of torture...

Chapter 61



When I awoke, I found myself back in my room at Deeh’s house. My head ached a little but I was otherwise unharmed, and no longer bleeding. My heart felt heavy at the loss of a Hist tree, and I wasn’t completely sure that it was the right thing to do.

“Awake?” a voice asked. I eased myself up in bed and turned to its source, pushing any other thoughts to the back of my mind.

Cirinwe was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, surrounded by the various bits and pieces of her armour that she was busy cleaning.

“Awake.” I confirmed. Cirinwe put the armour to one side and shuffled over to the bed, immediately placing one hand on my brow. One spell pulsed through my body to check for injuries, and then another for healing and pain reduction.

“How do you feel?” doctor Ciri asked, peering into one eye.

“A light headache, but I’m all in one piece.”

“I know that, I meant how do you feel, emotionally.” she finished her medical examination and cupped her hands around my face, turning me so I had to look her in the eyes. She had grown very perceptive.

“I’m
not sure.” her hands were warm, and she smelled slightly of smoke and sweat.

“Oho! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” A voice called out from the doorway, causing Cirinwe to snatch her hands away.

“Deeh.” I greeted my foster father, though in truth I was much more interested in the tray he was carrying. A pot of tea and a selection of snacks. Not to say I wasn’t pleased to see him of course, but


“I couldn’t help but overhear that you weren’t dead, so I thought you might be hungry.” he grinned, meaning that he had grown tired of standing with a glass to the door. “How is he, Cirinwe?”

“He’s made a full recovery, though I would recommend that he doesn’t do anything heroic for a couple of days.” Cirinwe smiled, pouring some tea first for me and then for herself.

“You two have met?” I asked, taking a tentative sip. Mountain Flower tea, a personal favourite.

“Of course, she introduced herself yesterday after she carried you in here. Not quite how one expects to meet one’s future daughter-in-law but I suppose it can’t be helped.” Deeh chuckled.

“Your dau-” I spluttered, almost choking on my tea.

“Not quite there yet, eh? No matter, no matter, young people have nothing but time.” He grinned again. I could feel my headache returning.

“Thank you for the tea.” I said flatly, indicating that he should change the subject.

“You’re most welcome, hatchling.” He turned to leave, but paused before reaching the door. “If you’re going to stick around for a few days, you could look in on Rosentia Gallenus. Nobody has seen her for a few days, and there are some odd noises coming from her house.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” I agreed, watching Deeh leave.

“Who?” Cirinwe asked, her face still bright red after Deeh’s comment.

“Rosentia Gallenus, she lives in the big house next door. Collects magical curios, and has a very nice library, but she’s not a mage herself as far as I’m aware.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“You’re more than welcome.” I was glad that any talk of emotions had been shelved. Hopefully this would be enough to keep us busy for a short while.

I finished my tea and hopped out of bed, pleased to see that I was still wearing my armour. I decided to keep it on, but switched out the light legion gauntlets and boots for my sturdier treated leather ones. I also retrieved my bow. The Hist wood felt almost alive in my hand, and a lot more comforting than the Blackwood tree.

Cirinwe required assistance with her own gear, which had lots of straps and buckles to keep everything in place. It appeared that the Blackwood Company had ‘donated’ a couple of pieces, their intricate vine pattern looking far better on Cirinwe’s tall frame than they did on an angry Khajiit.

“Where’s your axe?” I asked, noticing its absence.

“I had to drop it to carry you back here, and by the time I went back for it, the basement was inaccessible.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t even imagine how much that axe had cost, and she had become quite proficient with it.

“Don’t worry about it. I brought this back with me instead.” She revealed a very familiar claymore, last seen in the hands of the Blackwood leader as he tried to cut me in half.

It was a beautiful weapon of Elven design. A richly detailed hilt of moonstone held a long, straight blade of fine steel folded with quicksilver. It suited her perfectly, just as my Hist bow suited me. Cirinwe smiled warmly when I told her that.

A few minutes later and we arrived at Rosentia Gallenus’s house, which dwarfed Deeh’s modest home. I couldn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, but I could definitely feel something. Cirinwe held her sword, still sheathed, in one hand to make it easier to draw. I knocked on the heavy wooden door, the sound of someone dropping cutlery echoed within the house.

“Mrs Gallenus? It’s Haa-Rei. Deeh said you might need some help.” I spoke through the keyhole, and after a few seconds the door opened ever so slightly, an Imperial’s eye peeping out through the gap.

“Oh, hello dear, it’s nice to see you.” apparently Rosentia was going to make this difficult.

“You too. This is my friend, Cirinwe. Can we come in?” I gestured to my companion, who bowed her head politely.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m with the Mages Guild.” Cirinwe knew exactly what to say. At the mention of the guild’s name, Rosentia’s eye sparkled.

“The guild? Come in, come in. Quick, quick.” The door opened just enough for us to squeeze through and swiftly slammed shut behind us. The smell of daedric magic was heavy on the air, though the smell of scamp mess was even stronger.

“Mrs Gallenus, what’s going on?” I reached for my bow, but the Imperial woman stopped me.

“That won’t be necessary. Right, where do I begin?” Rosentia sighed heavily, and then began her story.

Posted by: ghastley Feb 10 2017, 06:31 PM

Oh dear, he's going to do something heroic, just after he was told not to.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 10 2017, 07:07 PM

Like Haa-Rei, I nearly sputtered tea when Deeh referred to Ciri as his 'future daughter-in-law'. What a wonderful stroke to drop such a heavy-handed observation into the otherwise delicate dance of hearts between Scales and Scars! And the reactions from both were priceless. Adorable that their mutually growing affection is to obvious to all but themselves.

I'm so glad that Ciri has a claymore now instead of her old axe.

Uh-oh. Looks and smells like the lady's got a scamp problem. . . .

Posted by: haute ecole rider Feb 13 2017, 03:28 AM

I love this observation of Has-Rei! This sums up Deeh's character so succinctly it told me oodles of this man's character! That for me was the standout. Of course, I'm with Acadian regarding the Daughter-in-Law comment. Classic!

Posted by: hazmick Feb 17 2017, 03:26 PM

ghastley - Some people just can't help it.

Acadian - A sword definitely suits Ciri better, and she'll no doubt put it to good use.

haute - Heh, I'm glad you like Deeh. He certainly earns his nickname, but at the same time he always does what's best for Haa-Rei...more or less



Previously - After waking up back at home, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spoke to Deeh. The old Argonian suggested that they look in on Rosentia Gallenus, who's been having some sort of trouble recently...

Chapter 62



“We’re getting some strange looks
” Cirinwe said, nodding to the townsfolk as we passed by. They looked horrified, and more than a little nervous.

“Hardly surprising.” I gestured to the scamps that were following at my heels.

As it turned out, Rosentia Gallenus’s house had become a playground for a group of scamps. Rosentia had purchased a strange staff from a passing adventurer and, after accidentally activating it, found that it was cursed. The curse meant that one could never throw the staff away, and the bearer of the staff would be followed around by four scamps.

The scamps themselves weren’t dangerous, but made a large mess of the Gallenus house. They could not be killed, as the staff seemed to be their point of binding. With help from the Mages Guild, Cirinwe and I learned that the only way to get rid of the staff for good was to take it to a nearby daedric shrine. This was why we now found ourselves walking through Leyawiin with our daedric followers. Fortunately the guards all recognised me, and allowed us to pass without any trouble.

The shrine lay in a cave to the south-east. I’d been there before, but never gone too far in on account of the creatures that resided inside. Unfortunately, with one of my hands now stuck on a staff, all the fighting would be left to Cirinwe.

“Ready?” I asked, nudging one of the scamps out of the way with the staff. They had an annoying habit of always being underfoot, which made my progress particularly slow.

“Ready.” Cirinwe nodded, raising her sword and slowly moving forward.

The scamps and I followed at a safe distance to allow Cirinwe enough room to move freely. The cave branched off in two separate directions, but each path smelled just as bad as the other. We hadn’t gone very far when we encountered our first enemies. Two scamps, larger than our own, warming themselves on a small fire. Cirinwe wasted no time, striding forward and cleaving one of them in two before they knew she was there. The second scamp batted at her with its claws, which had no effect on her heavy armour. It died soon after. I felt utterly useless, but nonetheless enjoyed watching Cirinwe work. Her graceful movements should have been completely at odds with her heavy armour and two-handed sword, but they actually complemented each other perfectly. She was a natural.

After waiting a few moments, Cirinwe moved on. I almost tripped on one of our scamps when it stopped to feed on one of the fallen enemies, but a nudge from the staff got it moving again.


I’d expected more resistance inside a daedric shrine, but after the first two scamps, we only encountered four more and a Clannfear. Cirinwe dealt with them most proficiently, and we reached the shrine itself quite quickly.

The shrine consisted of a raised dais in the centre of a large cavern. Two slabs of stone flanked either side, etched with daedric writing. In between these slabs was an altar and a large statue. I hurried to the altar and put the staff down, relieved to see that I could actually do so. The scamps wandered off without a second glance, apparently happy with their new home.

“Who’s that?” Cirinwe asked, gesturing towards the statue.

It depicted a well-dressed man, with a tidy beard and walking cane. He wore a jolly expression on his face, as if he was very amused by everything.

“Sheogorath.” I answered, bending down to look at some of the daedric script.

“Can you read it?” My Altmer companion asked, taking a seat on the edge of the dais to clean some of the daedric essence from her sword.

“Yes. It says
’everlasting life’.” I chuckled, suddenly the story of the staff became clear.

No doubt someone prayed to Sheogorath, asking him for everlasting life. The Madgod had agreed, and given the poor fool everlasting life
just not their own. Asking something of any daedra is tricky, they will always try and find loopholes to exploit people, but asking something of Sheogorath is particularly dangerous. Most of the stories which I have read about him end poorly for those involved, and always serve to entertain the Lord of Madness.

“Will the staff be safe here?” Cirinwe stood and began to make her way back to the cave.

“It’ll probably be withdrawn to Oblivion, unless a brave adventurer fights their way in here and claims it.” I jogged to catch up, making sure that the scamps weren’t still following me. I made a mental note to never pick up anything magical from a daedric shrine.

We made our way through the cave we’d already cleared, so it was just a short walk back to the entrance. We found 2 treasure chests on the way back, and split the gold between us. We decided to leave anything else we found, just in case.

Once outside, I took a deep breath of fresh air. As soon as I did, I froze.

“What’s wrong?” Cirinwe drew her sword, ready for whatever I’d sensed.

“Are you ready to fight more daedra?” I asked, drawing my bow. The air fizzed and crackled with energy, and everything went deathly silent for a few moments.

Then, with a great tearing and screaming sound, the air began to shift and shimmer. A small spark flashed through the air several metres away, and then erupted in a flash of blinding light. The ground around it burst into flame. I grabbed Cirinwe and pulled her back into the cave as a wave of heat washed over us. We stayed there for a few moments, until the sound and light died down a bit.

“What
” Cirinwe began to ask, but stopped when we stepped out of cover. A large arch of rocks had appeared, holding together a roaring portal of fire.

“That is an Oblivion Gate.” I recognised the look on Cirinwe’s face – a mixture of fear and curiosity that I was also feeling.

We stood in silence for a few moments, watching the swirling flame. Fortunately it didn’t seem to be spitting out any daedra just yet, but I had no doubts that it soon would. I felt Cirinwe’s hand brush against my own, her fingers intertwining with mine.

“How do we close it?” She asked, her eyes fixed on the portal.

“From inside.” I answered, squeezing her hand.

“I was afraid you’d say that.” She smiled nervously, resting her sword on one shoulder.

“We’ll be fine, I’ve done this before.” I grinned, stepping forward and leading her through the portal.

Here we go again.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 17 2017, 09:01 PM

I really admire your skill during the opening scene here as you, with an expert economy of words, show us what is going on.

Ugh. Sheogorath. Scamps begone!

Your description of an Oblivion Gate opening as Scales and Scars exited the dungeon was magnificent as you so perfectly captured the terrifying event.

Gulp!

Posted by: ghastley Feb 22 2017, 02:55 PM

And he's doing it again ... again!

Doesn't he know how the game mechanics work? If you close one at this stage, another will open.

Posted by: hazmick Feb 27 2017, 02:55 PM

Acadian - Thank you! A fun little side quest. Only Sheogorath would make such a powerful artifact for a practical joke.

ghastley - Someone else can handle the other gates, there are adventurers everywhere these days!



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe returned the Staff of Everscamp to Sheogorath's Shrine on behalf of Rosentia Gallenus. Oblivion was not done with them yet, however, as an Oblivion gate opened up right outside the cave. Hand in hand, the two adventurers journeyed to the deadlands...

Chapter 63



“So, this is Oblivion
” Cirinwe said as we emerged from the gate.

“It is.” I confirmed, scanning the immediate area for threats.

The gate was located on a small, rocky island in the middle of a vast sea of lava. The sea stretched to the horizon in almost every direction, flame atronachs dancing through the molten waves. Ahead of us was a second, larger island upon which sat a single tower of twisted metal.

“Now what?” Cirinwe asked. Her brow was already beaded with sweat, the heat from the sea was incredible.

“We need to find the sigil stone. It’ll most likely be in that tower.” I nodded towards the structure, but I could see no way to reach it. Did the daedra use boats?

“How do the daedra plan to attack through the gate if they can’t reach it themselves?” Cirinwe astutely observed. Either the daedra had no control over their portal placement (somewhat likely) or they had another way to reach it (most likely).

It was a Clannfear that answered our question. A scrabbling noise to our left announced the creature’s arrival
from underground. It died almost immediately after surfacing, an arrow in its flank. An entrance had been hidden behind some rocks, no doubt we would have never found it without daedric assistance.

The entrance led to a narrow tunnel, which required us to crouch through, and eventually opened up into a large, dark chamber. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but once they did I could see quite clearly. A gasp from behind indicated that Cirinwe could too.

“Haa-Rei, they’re
” she trailed off, gazing at the dozens of small alcoves that were hewn into the walls. Every single one was occupied by a Clannfear, curled into a tight ball with their shield-like heads protecting them.

“Sleeping, yes. Best we not wake them.” I whispered, gesturing for Cirinwe to follow.

The chamber led to a large corridor, which seemed to go in a more-or-less perfectly straight line in front of us. On either side there were numerous smaller side passages, no doubt containing more chambers. There could have been thousands of sleeping Clannfear all around us.

We moved slowly and quietly so as not to wake anyone, and kept heading down the main corridor. We were directly beneath the lava sea, the heat pressing down on us from all directions. Every so often a crack in the wall would reveal bubbling streams of molten rock, or belch out gouts of thick fumes.

Cirinwe was dripping with sweat, and looked as if she might collapse at any moment, but refused to rest. Eventually, after an hour or two of walking, the air began to cool down and the walls of the tunnel became smoother. Carvings and decorations began to appear, indicating some aspect of civilisation.

“We’re past the sea.” I whispered, taking a seat on the edge of a large blood fountain. I dug around in my pack until I found some water and took a long drink. Cirinwe did the same, and poured some over her face and neck. Once she was ready, we moved on.

The temperature dropped quite rapidly as we moved away from the sea, going from one extreme to another, but Cirinwe didn’t seem to mind the cold quite so much as the heat. The tunnel had begun to curve upward very gradually, and we soon found ourselves outside a small door. The guardians at the door, two scamps, fell quickly and quietly.

The door opened into a large, round room. In the centre was a familiar pillar of howling light, atop which we would find the sigil stone. Cirinwe led the way up the tower’s winding stairs, throwing off several daedra as we moved from room to room. I made sure to prioritise anything with ranged attacks, and we made swift progress. We paused for a rest about halfway up.

“The Deadlands
is a lot livelier than one would have assumed.” Cirinwe smiled, taking another drink from her water skin. Her face and hair were covered in soot, grime, and daedric viscera. She looked beautiful.

“Well I just hope that-“ whatever wry quip I was going to say was lost to Oblivion as an odd feeling came over me. It felt like


“I knew it!” A voice piped up from behind me, and Cirinwe sprang forward with sword in hand.

“Ciri, wait!” I moved quicker, standing between Cirinwe and the small flame atronach. “It’s alright, she’s
a friend.”

“Hello!” the atronach said to Cirinwe over my shoulder, “My name is Eithne, pleased to meet you.”

“Erm
likewise. I’m Cirinwe.” Cirinwe looked a little unsure, but seemed willing to trust this strange creature as long as I was.

“How
what...” I was utterly speechless. She looked smaller than usual, but floating before us was my flame atronach, Eithne, who had been lost to me on my previous trip to Oblivion.

“No time, Master, I’ll explain later. You need to close the gate, quick quick.” Eithne pirouetted a few times to illustrate haste.

“Why the urgency?” Cirinwe asked, relaxing her stance.

“The daedra are mobilising to go through the gate soon.” The flame atronach didn’t wait for a reply, and began heading towards the stairs, followed closely by Cirinwe. I collected my jaw from where it had dropped and hurried after them.

Our progress was even faster with Eithne acting as a fire shield. Any attack from scamps or other flame atronachs was immediately intercepted and absorbed. Thankfully the daedra hadn’t expected anyone to get this far, and the final chamber was mostly unguarded. The sigil stone sat atop its light pillar, glowing fiercely.

“What will happen to you this time?” I asked Eithne when we reached the stone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you. Quickly now, get the stone. Make sure you’re both touching each other or one might get left behind.” Eithne placed one hand on the stone, and gestured for me to do the same.

I turned to Cirinwe, who took one of my hands in her own and nodded. I grabbed the stone and heaved it from its pedestal. White light filled my vision, I felt Cirinwe’s grip tighten, and then
the two of us were back in Tamriel.

Posted by: ghastley Feb 27 2017, 03:19 PM

I never did quite determine the "rules" for who comes back out of a closing gate. The game gives us Farwil and Semyan, who emerge from the Cheydinhal gate, if you're tolerant. But there's also Menien, so it's not just who's still alive, although it could be ...

And then "the two of us were back in Tamriel" and not three.

Posted by: Acadian Feb 27 2017, 09:37 PM

I loved your depiction of the ominously sleeping clannfears. It conjured the same impending doom that those sleeping metal constructs do when in dwemer ruins.

'Cirinwe smiled, taking another drink from her water skin. Her face and hair were covered in soot, grime, and daedric viscera. She looked beautiful.' - - Aww.

I was pleased to see you use the same convention that I use in Buffy fiction about who gets out of a gate – anyone connected to the sigil stone when it is removed. Even if the game doesn’t necessarily do exactly this.

Like ghastley, I wonder now about dear little long-lost Eithne? Hope she made it – perhaps as a spirit within Haa-Rei?

Posted by: hazmick Mar 3 2017, 03:32 PM

ghastley - Yes, the game is rather vague on that. I went with the "you have to be touching the stone" angle just to be safe, but it's certainly interesting to consider the implications of other gate rules.

Acadian - Haa-Rei is nowhere near the spiritcatcher that Buffy is! I'm not sure the werewolf spirit would want to share with anyone anyway.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe journeyed to Oblivion, and after fighting their way through many daedra and being reunited with long-lost Eithne, retrieved the sigil stone and appeared back in Tamriel...

Chapter 64



Cirinwe slumped heavily to the ground, lying on her back to catch her breath. At first we simply stared at each other in silence, until she suddenly started to laugh. I could understand the feeling – we’d just fought our way through a horde of daedra and closed an oblivion gate, and we were very much alive.

“That was
”she paused, trying to think of an appropriate word.

“Heroic? Dramatic? Exhausting?” I offered.

“Yes.” she replied, sitting up and taking a deep breath. “Wait
where’s the atronach?”

Eithne hadn’t appeared back in Tamriel with us, but I knew where she was. I still had the sigil stone in my hand, and I could feel her essence within.

“She bound part of herself to the stone, to make sure she didn’t get trapped again. It shouldn’t be too hard to
” I focused my magicka on the stone and cast the summoning spell. A whoosh of energy heralded Eithne’s arrival.

“Ah, that’s much better. Thank you, Master.” Eithne somersaulted happily, no doubt pleased to be free of any restraints for the first time in a while. She stretched her arms, the lithe movements reminded me of a cat.

“It’s good to see you again, Eithne. Can you tell me what happened now?”

“Of course, of course. The last time we saw each other, you were grabbing a sigil stone while I valiantly held back some dremora, yes? Well they weren’t too happy about it, and managed to rebind my energy before I could leave.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” I frowned. I’d always considered my summons to be a reliable safety net, but if even they are in danger from Oblivion


“It takes a being of significant power to do it. We were just unlucky enough to run into the lord of that particular area. He later trapped me in that second sigil stone, hoping that he could force me to defend it.”

“
but you didn’t.” pointed out Cirinwe.

“At first I did, but after studying the stone for a while, I figured out how it worked and managed to loosen my shackles. Thanks to your timely rescue, I’m free again and bound to you.”

“That’s a relief. Can I safely de-summon you now?”

“Oh yes, it’s quite safe. No more Deadlands though, yes?”

“Agreed. See you later, Eithne.” I raised one hand to de-summon her and waved goodbye with the other.

I walked over to Cirinwe and sat down beside her, my limbs aching from all the exertion of the last few hours. We sat in silence for a while as life gradually returned to the area. Birds returned to their songs, a lone rabbit moved from cover to cover in its hunt for food, and in the distance a dreugh fished for mudcrabs by a small stream. The only suggestion that anything had been amiss was the black stone arch of the Oblivion Gate, now quiet and cold.

“That was terrifying
” Cirinwe said after a while, “but at the same time, quite exciting. We were actually in Oblivion
.it’s amazing.” She smiled again, looking a touch exhausted.

“We’ll make an adventurer of you yet.” I chuckled, climbing to my feet. I helped Cirinwe up and together we headed back to Lleyawiin.

The town was as quiet as ever. Nobody seemed to have noticed the daedric portal popping up outside, though that may well be for the best. We headed straight for Deeh’s house, where Cirinwe immediately readied herself a bath. I took a seat in the main room to right a brief report to the Blades, concerning recent events in Leyawiin – The Hist, the gate, and any rumours I’d heard. After sealing the letter, I made myself some tea and relaxed in my chair, listening to Cirinwe as she sang quietly to herself. The words of the song were in Elvish, which I did not speak, but her voice was breathtaking.

“Beautiful.” remarked Deeh, who had just arrived.

“Yes” I agreed.

“She’s a nice person too.”

“Yes.”

“and strong.”

“Yes.”

“and intelligent.”

“Yes.”

“I’m happy for you.” Deeh smiled.

“Hm?” I had only been half paying attention to him, but I heard the last part loud and clear.

“You and Cirinwe.” he clarified. “You make a good couple.”

“I
we’re not
”

“You sure?” I raised a brow, but I had no answer. Are we? How does one know? Should I ask her for clarification?

“Ah, hello Deeh.” Cirinwe greeted the old Argonian with a smile as she emerged from the bathroom, hopefully she hadn't overheard anything.

She was wearing a baggy pair of breeches and an oversized shirt, a towel in one hand as she attempted to dry her long hair, which reached down to her waist when not tied up. Without her armour on I could see the clear definition of the muscles on her arms, and realised just how much her physical fitness had come along since she first picked up a sword.

“Hello my dear. Tea?” Deeh framed it as a question, but had already began pouring her a cup. No doubt a habit he had developed after raising me for so many years.

“Thank you.” Cirinwe took a sip as she seated herself by the fire.

“You have a beautiful signing voice, by the way.” Deeh said casually, causing Cirinwe’s face to turn beet red.

“...thank you.” Cirinwe replied quietly, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh, by the way Deeh,” I began, moving the conversation to a subject that didn’t make Cirinwe so embarrassed, “we solved Rosentia Gallenus’s problem.”

“Ah, now this sounds like a tale I’ll want to hear.” Deeh sat up straight in his chair, ever the one for gossip. Cirinwe sent a glance my way to show her appreciation.

And so I began recounting recent events, and after recovering from her embarrassment, Cirinwe fell into the conversation too, and I let her take over the telling of it. We left out the part with the Oblivion gate, for obvious reasons. I’ve never been one for much talking, but as long as Cirinwe was there I could talk until the rivers ran dry. Or the tea, in this case.

Posted by: ghastley Mar 3 2017, 04:31 PM

tl:dr Tea solves everything.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 3 2017, 09:20 PM

I was so pleased that dear Eithne made it back and enjoyed the imagination you used in doing so.

Hee! Another elf with a beautiful singing voice, it seems!

Loved the gentle ‘nudges’ Deeh gave the reluctant (oblivious?) Haa-Rei regarding Ciri.

Yes, hot tea is good.

As ever, this is such a wonderful story to curl up with and enjoy.

Posted by: hazmick Mar 17 2017, 03:31 PM

ghastley - Yep, that pretty much sums up 90% of the story

Acadian - There'll certainly be more Eithne at some point, and more tea.



Previously - After arriving safely back in Tamriel, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spoke with Eithne about her recent time in Oblivion. Afterwards, the pair returned to Leyawiin to catch up with Deeh.

Chapter 65



After hearing the tale of our recent adventures, Deeh bid Cirinwe and I a good evening and headed to the tavern, as is his custom on a Fredas night. Once alone, Cirinwe had several questions about recent events.

“Ask away.” I said, pouring myself another cup of tea.

“The Blackwood’s Hist tree. What was wrong with it?”

“Well
in Black Marsh, all Hist trees linked together. They talk to each other, and can see what’s happening in every corner of the Marsh all at once. This tree had been torn away from that, and placed in a basement. No sun, no soil, no fresh water, nobody to talk to. On top of that, its sap was being physically drained from its body.”

“So
it was sick? Was that why the sap made them act
the way they did?”

“Hist sap isn’t just sap. When an Argonian is born, they drink the sap and physically link themselves to the Hist, and are imbued with the collective knowledge of all Argonians before them. Then when an Argonian dies, their soul returns to the Hist and their memories are passed on to the next generation through the sap. For anyone to drink that, let alone non-Argonians, will take its toll.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Hist sap is
sort of like the distilled essence of every Argonian soul that has ever existed, or will ever exist. To take it from a Hist tree like the Blackwoods did, and then to use it as a fortifying tonic?” I shook my head. There was no word for how disgusted it made me feel.

“Then I’m glad we stopped them.” Cirinwe paused for a few moments to absorb the information before pressing on, “When the Hist tree
died
what happened to you?”

“That odd feeling I’d been having
that was the tree trying to communicate. Its thoughts were all confused and jumbled so I didn’t understand, but it was still communicating when it died. It shared its pain with me, unknowingly. It felt like my blood was boiling in my veins, being burned from the inside out.” I could only vaguely remember the feeling, but even the memory made me feel uncomfortable. Cirinwe subconsciously rubbed her scarred face.

“I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for prying. I just
want to understand more.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to answer whatever questions you have.”

“I have more I want to ask, but
they can wait for another time.” her sentence was interrupted by a yawn. We’d been very busy recently, and it was getting late.

“Sure. I’ll get the spare room set up for you.” It was technically Amusei’s room, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind.

“Actually
I thought I’d just sleep in your bed.” Cirinwe’s bright red face was at odds with her assertive tone.

“My
with me? In the same
I don’t
.” I had several things I wanted to say, but they all tumbled out at the same time.

“I know you don’t have any interest in
the physical aspects of a relationship
but I’m very fond of you. I want to spend time with you, and be close to you, and I think you feel the same way
hopefully” Cirinwe moved closer, and took my hands in her own. We were both shaking slightly.

“I
am very fond of you too.” I said. For a few moments we stood silently, and then I made the mistake of looking Cirinwe in the eye. We burst into laughter.

“We’re not very good at this, are we?” Cirinwe smiled, the laughter washing away any embarrassment. She leaned down to touch her forehead to mine, her face was warm and her sweet scent filled my nose.

“I think
we work well together.” I felt comfortable, and content. I could feel Cirinwe’s muscular arms wrap around my shoulders, and wanted to stay like that forever.



“Morning.” Deeh grumbled when I shuffled into the kitchen the next day. He was slumped on the table, resting his head gently in his hands. A hangover, no doubt.

I made a vague noise in greeting, and took a seat next to Cirinwe, who had awoken long before me. It was cold, and I was taking a long time to fully wake up.

“You two certainly aren’t morning people.” Cirinwe laughed, pouring us all some tea.

“Oh, how cruel. Mocking this poor old lizard while he’s in such a state.” Deeh wailed dramatically.

“I’m guessing you won’t be going to the market today then.” I asked, taking a long sip of tea. Warmth spread through my chest, and I began to feel a little more alive.

“I’m afraid not, my boy. If I move from this position, my head may very well fall off.”

“What a shame that would be.” I finished my tea and stretched, my joints starting to loosen up. “I suppose I’ll have to go.”

“I’ll join you.” Cirinwe smiled, tying her hair up into the usual ponytail.

The two of us left Deeh to nurse his hangover and headed into town. Loredas was the busiest day of the week, since it was the day that many traders set up stalls in the market. Butchers, bakers, grocers, armourers – everyone was out and about. Many people stopped to chat with neighbours that they might not see during the week, catching up on any recent gossip. I was glad to spot Rosentia Gallenus in the crowd, who waved politely to Cirinwe and I.

“Where should we go first?” Cirinwe asked, her height allowing her a good view of the entire market.

“We’ll start with the butcher, and work around from there.” I moved my hands in a sweeping motion to illustrate the battle plan.

Shopping was much easier with an extra pair of hands. Especially when those hands were stronger than mine, and thus able to carry more. We managed to finish quite quickly, and took a seat on a bench for a bite to eat. A nearby fried food stall had caught Cirinwe’s attention, so we’d paid it a visit. The meal was a simple bowl of fried meat and vegetables, but it was warm, filling, and delicious.

“That’s odd.” Cirinwe said suddenly.

“Hm?” my mouth was full, so I had to make inquiries with a raised brow.

“There’s a note in my pocket. Someone must have slipped it in while we were walking around.” Cirinwe produced a square of folded parchment, setting down her food to get a better look.

On unfolding, the parchment revealed itself to be a map, indicating a location to the south of town. I knew the location, some sunken ruins on the coast. What intrigued me was the scent that clung faintly to the parchment.

“Strange.” I muttered.

“Oh?”

“It’s a familiar scent. Nightshade perfume, old stone
”

Trivea.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 17 2017, 07:13 PM

Another delightful interlude. Great job allowing Haa-Rei to explain to Ciri (and us) more about the nature of how the Hist relates to Argonians. Through the tree are passed the species/racial memories. I should think this allows hatchlings – like wolves – to start life with a significant advantage that men and mer lack: instincts.

Scars and Scales continue to grow closer. Haa-Rei has just gained the advantage of a nice way to keep his body temperature up through the night via proximity to Ciri.

I loved their lazily lingering day of shopping as well.

And, a mysterious map heralding a new adventure?

Posted by: ghastley Mar 20 2017, 08:30 PM

And it's not mutually exclusive with a pot of warming tea. Especially if she learns to brew one properly.

Trivea, however, probably lowers the blood temperature.

Posted by: hazmick Mar 31 2017, 03:51 PM

Acadian - Shopping breaks are one of the most important parts of an adventurer's life, as I'm sure Buffy would agree

ghastley - I wonder what would happen if a warm Altmer and a chilly vampire Dunmer stood too close to each other. A Bosmer thunderstorm?



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe further discussed the Hist, as well as their own relationship, and spent the following morning at the market. However, a mysterious map heralds a new adventure...

Chapter 66



The last time I’d seen Trivea had been on Solstheim, after living under her protection for several weeks while she helped me control my lycanthropy. I was looking forward to seeing her again, but I was also curious to learn why she felt the need for all the secrecy.

I would soon learn why, but before we could head outside the city, Cirinwe needed to put her armour on. It was no simple task, with more straps and buckles than an entire Imperial legion. The first layer of armour was a leather bodysuit, similar to those worn by assassins, with a light feather enchantment to make the following layers of equipment a little lighter. On top of this was a shirt of chainmail, with thicker leather padding in certain areas to make it more comfortable, a pair of thigh high leather and steel boots, and a skirt of thick leather pteruges. The final layer was the various bits of steel that formed the bulk of the armour, made up of overlapping plates which glowed dimly with various enchantments. The vine-patterned donations from the Blackwood company were still unenchanted, but looked very impressive.

“That’s better.” Cirinwe smiled as she flexed her fingers experimentally in her gauntlets. She looked much more comfortable in her armour than she did out of it.

“That was exhausting.” I took a seat on the edge of the bed and wriggled into my own armour, which was a significantly easier task and required no extra pairs of hands.

“So we know who this map leads to, but do we know where exactly?” Cirinwe looked at Trivea’s vague map again, which I had already compared to my own.

“The only thing out there is a pile of stones where a house used to be.” I had explored the area many times before, and couldn’t think why Trivea had chosen such a location.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” Cirinwe handed me my bow, picked up her sword, and lead the way outside.

The earlier bustle from the market had died down now, though there were a few people still wandering around in the warm sun. Cirinwe and I crossed town quickly and headed out through the east gate. It was only a short journey to the coast and the ruined house.

“Well
she’s definitely been here,” I raised my nose to the wind, catching Trivea’s scent. “but she’s not here now.”

“Maybe she’s left a clue?” Cirinwe said hopefully.

“Let’s look around.” I nodded, and we split up to search the area.

The house had been demolished long before I came to Leyawiin, and I wasn’t sure that anyone even knew it had ever existed. Piles of stone in the water nearby suggested that before the house, a larger structure had stood watch on the coast, but the sea had claimed it long ago.

“I’ve got something!” Cirinwe called out from behind some rocks, and I hurried over.

Hidden amongst the rocks and bushes was a trapdoor, possibly the cellar of the older structures. Unfortunately it was locked from the inside, with no outer lock for me to pick. More importantly, however, were the rocks themselves – and the symbols scratched onto them.

“This looks
elven?” The letters resembled those I’d seen in Ayleid ruins, and had recently been scrawled onto the stone.

“Vea Garlas,” Cirinwe read over my shoulder, “it’s Ayleidoon for ‘sea cave’.”

“Have you tried out the ring of Rumare yet?” I asked, looking out towards the submerged ruins.

“No, but I assume that’s about to change.” Cirinwe removed a gauntlet, revealing the ring underneath.

When we arrived at the water’s edge Cirinwe dipped her hand in, causing the ring to glow brightly. With the enchantment active, she proceeded to walk carefully into the sea. Wherever the water touched her, a thin blue barrier appeared and kept her dry.

“Must be nice.” I muttered, pulling off my boots. Once I had stripped down to my greaves, I waded in to join her.

“This is amazing, though I’m not sure it’ll help me swim.”

“True. I’ll have a look around first.” I took one last look at the shore to get my bearings, then dove off the rocky outcrop and into the deep.

It was a surprisingly sudden drop, in no small part due to the amount of rubble that littered the shore. Even though she could breathe underwater, Cirinwe would have trouble moving in her armour, or seeing where she was going. I had no such problems, and quickly found a small cave entrance. After going back for Cirinwe, I lead her to the entrance, glad to learn that the ring gave her some degree of buoyancy to help her move around. After swimming through the cave, we emerged into a relatively dry cavern, and I quickly dressed myself before proceeding.

“Took you long enough.” A voice spoke from the shadows ahead.

“Lurking in a shadowy lair, Trivea? You’ve read too many bad adventure novels.” I focused my eyes on the spot where her scent was the strongest, and sure enough the Dunmer soon emerged, the shadows clinging to her like cobwebs.

For a few moments she simply stared at me, her red eyes burning like coals, but then the mask slipped and she broke into a smile.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my dear. Oh, and you even brought lunch.” The vampire slinked forward to stand in front of Cirinwe. The pale shape of Trivea could not have been more different to the gold-skinned Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei has told me so much about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet.” The Altmer smiled brightly, showing no signs of being intimidated.

“I like her.” Trivea smiled as she turned to me, leading us further into the cave. The tunnel soon opened up into a large room, which featured several comfortable chairs. I didn’t ask how Trivea had got them in here.

“Well now that that’s out of the way,” I sighed as we all sat down, “perhaps you could tell us at this is all about.”

“Yes, sorry for all the cloak and dagger. I need your help with something.” Trivea lounged casually in her chair, but I could tell that whatever she needed help with was causing her some concern.

This was going to be interesting.

Posted by: ghastley Mar 31 2017, 04:54 PM

Hasn't he learned about "interesting" yet?

Someone might get cruor on their pteruges!

Posted by: Acadian Mar 31 2017, 06:40 PM

In truth, the name Trivea from your last episode did not trigger recognition. When your first paragraph of this episode reminded us of her role and who she was, the Dunmeri vampire and Haa-Rei’s hunting and lycanthropy lessons all came back clearly – well done and timely review of who she is.

I enjoyed the recognition that Cirinwe’s heavy armor is complex and cumbersome enough that having help putting it all on and together would be very appropriate and welcome.

I learned only recently in ESO that ‘Ayleidoon’ is indeed what the Ayleid language is called. Neat to see you use that term.

I love your descriptions of the ring and watery transit into the cave where they found Trivea.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my dear. Oh, and you even brought lunch.” The vampire slinked forward to stand in front of Cirinwe. The pale shape of Trivea could not have been more different to the gold-skinned Cirinwe. ‘ - -

Posted by: hazmick Apr 14 2017, 01:56 PM

ghastley - adventurers never learn

Acadian - the amount of straps, buckles and bits of metal on Ciri's in-game gear is incredible. Definitely not something she can just slip in and out of.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe followed the clues and eventually found Trivea's lair...

Chapter 67



“It’s a
delicate situation.” Trivea began.

“Go on
” I encouraged her, keen to hear the story.

“Well, an acquaintance of mine in Anvil needs your help. She has reason to believe that a slaver has taken control of the port authority.”

“Taken control how?” I asked.

“I don’t know all the details,” Trivea shrugged, “just that my friend wants to take this slaver out of business and make sure any slaves he owns are safe, without causing too much fuss in the town. With your prior experience, you’d be perfect for the job.”

“Wouldn’t this be better dealt with by the authorities?” Cirinwe asked, looking concerned.

“They’re too busy with oblivion gates and politics right now. Besides, the dockmaster is the authority, and he’s in the slaver’s pocket.”

“I’ll help your friend.” I decided. If Trivea thought it significant enough to ask for help, it would be worth doing. More so if this person actually was involved in slavery.

“Thank you my dear. Here are the details,” Trivea produced a scroll and handed it to me. It contained information about her friend, and where to meet. “now, what do you need help with?”

Cirinwe and I explained the situation regarding my lycanthropy, and the ever-increasing strain I was being put under. Trivea listened, and asked various questions, before vanishing into a side room and returning with several books. Her slim, grey fingers flicked through the pages with practiced ease, until she found what she was looking for. She frowned.

Cirinwe reached under the table and took one of my hands in her own. Her golden skin was warm to the touch. I wasn’t sure which one of us was more nervous.

“Something serious?” I asked anxiously.

“Yes and no. The wolf spirit is getting stronger as we approach the next Bloodmoon, and will most likely take control then. This will also be an opportunity for you to contact Hircine, though, which might be your only option.”

“How long until the Bloodmoon?”

“A few days.”

“Then I’d best not waste any time. Hircine’s shrine is to the north.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Trivea also decided.

“You will?” I asked, surprised. It was most unlike her to leave her lair for anything other than personal business.

“Of course. If you’re going to talk to Hircine, I’d like to be there. It will be very interesting to watch.” The Dunmer winked cheekily, though I was still not convinced.

“Alright then, we’ll meet you there. Thank you, Trivea.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you might still die.” The vampire smiled cheerfully, and escorted us to the exit.

The trapdoor was a much better way out than the sea cave would have been. Cirinwe and I quickly made our way back to Leyawiin, both deep in thought. No doubt the idea of a slaver running around Anvil was causing Cirinwe some concern.

When we got back to the house, we found it empty. Deeh was most likely at the tavern, so I wrote him a note to more-or-less explain the situation while Cirinwe packed some provisions for the journey.

“I’m not sure how far we’ll get today, since it’s already getting pretty late.” I peered out of the window at the sky, which was almost too cloudy to see the afternoon sun.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll get there. I don’t think this is something we want to be late for.” Cirinwe shouldered her pack and adjusted the straps on one gauntlet.

“It’s certainly going to be an experience.” I smiled, making sure my own gear was all ready.


We made camp only a few hours later, a little ways off the road between Leyawiin and Bravil. A ruined farmhouse made for a comfortable shelter, and I summoned Eithne to keep watch. The atronach was very happy to be there, and seated herself right in the campfire. The three of us chatted for a while, before Cirinwe went to sleep.

“Meeting a daedric prince, hm?” Eithne asked into the night.

“Yes. Any tips?” I was only half-joking.

“Be polite.” The flame atronach suggested, a flurry sparks floating into the air as she adjusted her seating position.

“I’d have thought that went without saying.”

“You’d be surprised. Lots of mortals have very poor manners, especially mages.” Without any facial expressions it was difficult to tell if she was joking or not.

“Hircine will want an offering too, right?”

“Of course. Perhaps an animal pelt?”

“That’s a good idea. Keep an eye on things here for a bit, Eithne. I’m going for a walk.” I glanced at Cirinwe, who was still fast asleep, and picked up my bow.

“Please be careful, master.” Eithne made a show of stretching her arms, looking very relaxed. I smiled and stepped quietly into the undergrowth.


It was a dark night, the moons obscured by thick clouds. Fortunately the ground was dry, and I could easily make out dozens of different animal tracks. Deer, boar, wolf, dreugh. What would Hircine prefer? Would wolf be alright, or would that offend him?

The decision was made for me a short while later. The wolf tracks I’d been following lead to a large clearing, and the carcass of a large elk. The wolves were long gone, but as I examined the elk, a rustling behind me heralded the arrival of my prey.

A large bear, with fur so light it was almost golden. A male, judging from the sheer muscle mass, looking to scavenge what it could.

As soon as the beast saw me it growled a throaty challenge, there would be no sneaking away.

“Well I hope Hircine likes bear.” I sighed, readying my bow.

Posted by: ghastley Apr 14 2017, 04:10 PM

I had to go read how the standard Oblivion Daedric quest runs, in anticipation of this. My own game has had it http://ghastley.org/Oblivion/Docs/Hircines_Virgin.html for a long time, and I've almost forgotten the original.

Hope that Haa-Rei enjoys the experience.

You've got me wondering if Eithne's presence is just background colour, or if there's an upcoming role, too.

Posted by: Acadian Apr 14 2017, 08:03 PM

Aww, Ciri and Haa-Rei nervously holding hands as they wait to hear what the vampire wants.

I know that Haa-Rei considers Trivea a friend so was not surprised that he readily accepted her request for help. Then I was pleased to learn that Trivea returned the favor with advice for the reptilian werewolf and that she would even make an appearance at Uncle Hircine’s shrine.

Golden bear it is to be then? Should make a fine offering.

Posted by: hazmick Apr 28 2017, 02:57 PM

ghastley - I'm afraid my version of Hircine's quest won't make as much use of bedrolls and nude Bretons as yours, but it won't be base-game either.

Acadian - Yep, Haa-Rei has absolute trust in Trivea. She's several thousand years old, after all, so she knows what she's doing...probably.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe met Trivea, who suggested that Haa-Rei's lycanthropy control problems may be caused by the approaching bloodmoon. With this information in hand, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe set out for Hircine's shrine. One night, while exploring the woods, Haa-Rei encounters a large bear, and a confrontation is inevitable...

Chapter 68



I managed to loose an arrow in the bear’s flank before I had to leap out of the way. A massive paw carved a deep gouge in the ground where I’d been standing. Using trees for cover, I fell into a steady rhythm of shooting and moving. Since Eithne was back at camp, I couldn’t summon Thiazzi for assistance and had to rely entirely on my bow.

I was surprised at the bear’s initial aggressiveness. Usually a bear at this time of year would be happy to go about its business, yet this behemoth had attacked first. It could spin around quickly, and its arms gave it an impressive reach.

Another paw crashed into a sapling several feet away, snapping the frail branches with ease. My limbs were only slightly sturdier, and would no doubt share a similar fate if I was caught.

Eventually, breathing heavily, the bear paused its assault. It was bleeding from a dozen arrow wounds, and steam rose off its body in the cool night air. I could see that its muscles were tense, ready to strike, and readied by bow for a final attack.

The creature moved faster than expected, but I was ready. My arrow lanced through the air to meet the oncoming mass of fur, and planted itself in the bear’s neck. I slumped to the ground, exhausted, as the bear toppled over. The tree behind me wept sap from a deep set of claw marks – too close for comfort.


With the hunt complete, all that was left was to take the pelt. It was a difficult task, and my arms felt like stone as I willed them to keep moving. Most of my arrows were too damaged to be of use after retrieval, but what caught my attention the most was what wasn’t mine. A crossbow bolt, lodged deep in the bear’s shoulder.

“I’m not the first hunter you encountered this evening.” I muttered, examining the bolt. It had a steel head, designed for puncturing armour and no doubt extremely painful for the bear to carry around. No wonder it had been so aggressive.


I put the bolt to one side as I finished removing the pelt. After that I started on the meat, not wanting to leave anything behind. It was a significant amount of work for one tired Argonian, but after a while I noticed that I had company.

Several pairs of eyes peered at me from the shadows, the pack of wolves I’d originally tracked here. I stood up slowly as a particularly large pair of wolves, no doubt the alphas, emerged from the gloom. There was no way I could carry all of this meat with me, and they looked like they could use it.

I quickly and carefully gathered my belongings, and the pelt, and left the clearing. The alpha wolves wasted no time in starting their meal while the rest of the pack explored the area, waiting for their turn to feed.

Back at camp, I hung the pelt on a nearby branch to dry. After chatting with Eithne for a few minutes I bid her goodnight and flopped down onto my bedroll, too tired to even take off my boots. A few moments later an arm appeared around me, and I felt Cirinwe bury her face in my feathery head spines. I fell asleep almost immediately.


The following morning, my arms still ached. Unfortunately there was still work to do, as I had to clean the bear pelt to make it easier to carry. It would also improve the smell, which was a bonus.

“Let me take over, you look as if your arms are going to fall off.” Cirinwe had been watching me intently for a while now, and gestured for me to hand over the knife.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I think so.”

Just to be sure, I spent a few minutes going over everything with her. She took to it very quickly, and was soon humming happily to herself as she worked.

I had de-summoned Eithne earlier that morning, so our campsite was very peaceful with just the two of us. I had enjoyed seeing Deeh back in Leyawiin, but there was truly nothing better than being out in the forest. We spent an entire day working on bear pelt, meat, and claws, until we were both exhausted.

The next day, at Cirinwe’s insistence, we found a secluded pool of water where we could wash away some of the musky bear smell that clung to us both. I averted my eyes while Cirinwe undressed and carefully stepped into the water, my attention was instead focused on the crossbow bolt I had retrieved from the bear’s shoulder.

I felt
angry at the thought of anyone shooting an animal and then leaving it to wander off. If the bear hadn’t encountered me, who knows who might have been hurt or killed? There were hundreds of small farms and villages in Cyrodiil that weren’t equipped to handle such a beast, and with Oblivion gates popping up all over the countryside, there were less guards on the roads too.

“Are you coming in or not?” Cirinwe interrupted my thoughts with a splash of cold water.

“No thank you, I’m quite happy here where it’s warm and dry.”

“I thought Argonians liked swimming.”

“Not this one. Besides, the water’s cold.” I dipped the tip of my tail in experimentally, and swiftly withdrew it. The rocky pool was sheltered overhead by trees, and had no sun to warm it up.

Cirinwe laughed and splashed me again before returning to her swimming. The water was almost perfectly clear, and I realised that this was the first time I had seen her in such a state of undress. I could see that as well as her face, almost half of her torso was covered in burn scars, as well as both arms from fingertip to elbow. The rest of her golden skin was completely free of blemishes, which was quite a striking contrast. I suddenly realised that I was staring, and quickly turned my attention elsewhere.

After Cirinwe was sufficiently bathed and I had reluctantly washed the smell of bear from my hands in the chilly pool, we made camp. Despite the urgency of our journey, we’d spent two days in the forest without much progress, and yet I couldn’t say that they’d been wasted. Barring any further distractions, we would make it to Hircine’s shrine in a couple of days.

I only hoped that the bear would be the toughest challenge of this journey.

Posted by: Acadian Apr 28 2017, 09:39 PM

This was a wonderful interlude! An intense fight that included a likely reason the golden bear was so ornery. Then a nice day or two processing the animal’s bounty by the riverside camp with Cirinwe.

Haa-Rei dipping the tip of his tail in the water to see how cold it was!

Posted by: hazmick May 12 2017, 02:38 PM

Acadian - Yep yep, some things can't be rushed. Especially not an elf and a body of water.



Previously - After bringing down a great bear, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spent a couple of days resting and cleaning the spoils of the kill. After taking some time to relax at a secluded pool, they resumed their journey towards Hircine's Shrine...

Chapter 69



“Last one?” Cirinwe asked as I drank a Lycanthropy potion.

“Last one.” I confirmed, wincing at the bitterness. I had been having a werewolf dream every night for the past few nights, and had to take two potions a day to prevent unwanted transformations. With no more potions left it was more important than ever that I find Hircine’s shrine.

It had been a couple of days since our time at the pool. According to the directions provided by Trivea (who was still nowhere to be seen) the shrine of Hircine should have been very close. Eventually, after much wandering back and forth, we found it tucked away deep in the forest.

I’m not sure what I’d been expecting from a daedric shrine, but this was more like a camp in front of a statue
in fact that’s exactly what it was. Three hunters - a Bosmer, an Argonian, and a Khajiit, seemed to reside here. The statue itself was a classic depiction of Hircine – a muscular man with the head of a stag, flanked by a great wolf. The pale stone, although weathered, was in pristine condition – no doubt thanks to the efforts of the devoted who lived here. Candles adorned the base of the shrine, illuminating it in the night.

“You approach the Shrine of Hircine. Are you hunter, or are you prey?” The Khajiit turned to us and called out, her bow in hand but not drawn. Her two companions were similarly alert, but not threatening. I imagined that it wasn't easy to be a daedric worshipper at the best of times, let alone when Oblivion gates were popping up and giving Daedra a bad name.

“Hunter.” I replied, stepping forward.

“Then approach the shrine, leave our lord an offering that he may find you worthy. Or perhaps learn what it is to be prey.” The last part was a clear threat, but all three hunters visibly relaxed when I produced the golden bear pelt from my pack.

I approached the shrine carefully, aware that everyone was watching intently, and lay the pelt at Hircine’s feet. Nothing happened. I turned to glance at Cirinwe, who shrugged helplessly, but paused as a green light shone upon me. The eyes of the statue glowed with power. Hircine was here.

“Summoned by prey. The hare crouches before the fox’s muzzle.” A great voice echoed from the statue, causing the three hunters to bow simultaneously. “Ah, not a hare. Not a mortal. Why have you come, pup?” Hircine’s voice audibly warmed when he recognised me as a werewolf. It was not any more comforting, however.

“My lord Hircine, I have come to request a boon. I wish to be able to control my gift, and not be ruled by it. To choose when I transform, and remain in control when I do.” I bowed my head respectfully, unsure how one was supposed to go about asking a Daedric prince for something.

“Hmm, a simple request. I will grant you this boon, if you perform a task for my amusement.” Hircine said predictably.

“What is this task, my lord?”

“The Bloodmoon rises over Harcane Grove, and hunters prepare to hunt. First named, last tamed, the unicorn runs wild there. Join in the hunt, in your wolf form, and I will grant your boon here and now.” The statue’s eyes dimmed again, and all went quiet. I had my task.

“You have been greatly honoured, hunter.” The Khajiit approached, smiling warmly.

“So I have to hunt the last unicorn in Tamriel?” I asked, unsure about my feelings on this task.

“Did our lord say that? I heard him tell you to join the hunt, not which side to take. That is the hunter’s choice. This task is for you, and you alone. Your mate will remain here.” The Khajiit nodded towards Cirinwe, who looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased to be referred to as my ‘mate’.

“Good hunting.” Cirinwe approached, leaning down slightly to touch her forehead to mine. I knew that she would rather join me, but I was still wary of being in wolf form around her, even if Hircine said he'd help me immediately.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” I handed her my equipment and strode off into the darkness of the forest. Once I was a safe distance away, I opened my mind to the wolf spirit.

The transformation went smoothly, the wolf form appearing around me and merging with my body. I could immediately feel a difference, I was completely calm and in control. The forest was alive around me with sounds and smells in every direction. I could smell the group of hunters to the south, readying themselves to drive the unicorn to extinction, and set off quickly in that direction.

A red moon, the Bloodmoon, rose above me as I crept through the undergrowth around the hunter’s camp. There were about a dozen hunters, which I thought was a bit of overkill for a single unicorn. Half their number was already heading off, while the other half were still preparing – sharpening swords and axes, coating blades and arrows in poison.

As soon as the first group had left, I made my move. I dealt with the two sentries first, quickly and quietly dispatching them with my claws, and then emerged into the light of the campfire. I stood at least a foot taller than the tallest Nord, my white pelt gleaming in the firelight. The four hunters simply stared for a few moments, before they found their wits and their weapons. The first two died almost immediately, the largest of them tumbling onto the campfire and plunging the area into darkness. I dodged a clumsy axe swing and tore my claws through the chest of a burly Imperial, blocking his comrade’s sword stroke with my forearm before finishing them both with my teeth and claws.

It was over in a matter of seconds, and I felt a rush of adrenaline as I stood in the wreckage of their camp. I examined my forearm and was pleased to see that blocking a steel sword had no ill effects on my magical pelt – I wasn’t willing to test that hypothesis on silver weapons yet, but for now I was safe. The other hunters weren’t too far ahead, so I set off in pursuit.

I circled around them to remain downwind as they entered Harcane Grove. I could smell the unicorn, but nobody had seen it yet. What they had seen were the three minotaurs who seemed to be protecting the grove. I had no doubt that the minotaurs could hold their own even against six hunters, but I still wanted to help. Just before the two sides collided I let out a long, loud howl which pierced through the hunter’s raised voices and the thunder of hooves. The hunters paused their charge, fear flashing across their faces, but the minotaurs weren’t fazed and carried on their assault, crashing into the hunters with a roaring fury.

I burst out of the undergrowth and sprinted on all fours across the clearing. A Nord hunter wielding a crossbow spotted me and fired in panic, the bolt sailing harmlessly past my flank. I growled as I recognised the crossbow bolt, identical to the one I found in the bear. The hunter managed to reload quickly as I closed the gap, and I started moving in a zigzag pattern, weaving my way past his second bolt. He had no time for a third, as I knocked the crossbow from his grasp and sent him skidding across the ground. He swore and drew a wicked looking blade, rising to meet me, but one of the minotaurs put an end to that with a swing of its massive warhammer.

Another hunter lashed out at a minotaur, sword dripping with poison, but I managed to grab his arm before he could strike the blow. After disarming him I sank my jaws deep into his neck, killing him swiftly. I looked around for my next target, but the hunters had all been dispatched.

The three minotaurs stood proudly before me. Each carried an impossibly heavy looking hammer, and wore layered leather and iron armour, similar to arena gladiator gear, which looked as ancient as they did. Their brown pelts were flecked with grey, and each had a short beard that was braided and woven with trinkets. They saluted me in turn, and I bowed in response. As I watched them leave, a flicker of light caught my gaze. In the distance, on the far side of the clearing, stood the unicorn. It was slightly larger and more muscular than even the most well-bred warhorse, with a coat even whiter than mine, and on its head was the famous horn, shining in the moonlight. As fast as it appeared, it vanished again, back into the trees. I felt blessed to have seen it, and pleased to have helped.

“You’ve done well, hunter.” Hircine’s voice echoed through my head as a ghostly stag shimmered into existence before me. “You have pleased me, and shown honour in your hunt. Return to the shrine as you are now, and I will completely grant your boon.”

“Wait-” I made to object, but the stag had already gone. Even though I was in control, I still felt apprehensive about being near Cirinwe in this form. I suppose this is another part of the task.

I approached the shrine carefully, and could see Cirinwe pacing back and forth. It was the hunters who saw me first, though, and bowed respectfully as I entered the camp. I gestured with a paw that it wasn’t necessary, and they returned to the shrine as Cirinwe carefully approached.

“You’re
tall.” Cirinwe said, with a hint of nervousness to her voice. She was right though, in this form I was even taller than her.

“Hey Ciri. It’s fine, I’m in control.” I assured her.

She moved closer, looking a lot more relaxed, and raised a hand to my chest. She smiled as her fingers sank into my soft fur. “You know
this is going to be a nightmare to groom. You’ll have to learn to use a hairbrush.” We both laughed at that, and I felt all of my worries melting away.

“Hunter, you have proven yourself worthy. I grant you your boon.” Hircine’s voice interrupted us briefly, and I stepped away from Cirinwe as a swirl of magicka enveloped me. When it cleared, I was back in my Argonian form. I could still feel the wolf spirit, but it was calm and relaxed.

“That’s better.” I smiled.

Posted by: ghastley May 12 2017, 03:03 PM

Very different from the vanilla game, and from mine, but I'm glad you decided to spare the Unicorn, too.

But did you have to leave me with a mental picture of Ciri attacking him with a hairbrush, just as I'm working on Conina the Hairdresser for Skyrim?

Posted by: Acadian May 12 2017, 08:36 PM

“Did our lord say that? I heard him tell you to join the hunt, not which side to take. That is the hunter’s choice. This task is for you, and you alone. Your mate will remain here.” The Khajiit nodded towards Cirinwe, who looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased to be referred to as my ‘mate’.
- - This is brilliant! I never doubted that Haa-Rei would spare the unicorn! And an ‘awww’ moment with his ‘mate’ Ciri.

I also loved your treatment of the minotaurs as noble guardians and the mutual respect between them and the big white wolf.

During the fight, when Haa-ReiWolf noted how tall he was, I was really hoping he’d get to stand eye-to-eye with Ciri - and he got my wish!

Lovely treatment of this quest. Buffy never did nor would complete the Oblivion vanilla Hircine quest. She found the Skyrim vanilla Hircine quest right up her tree though.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 2 2017, 02:10 PM

ghastley - Cirinwe, fully armoured, charging into battle with a large, two-handed hairbrush. Yep, I definitely need to see that.

Acadian - Glad you liked it! I wonder how tall a Cirinwolf would be.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe arrived at Hircine's shrine, where our Argonian had to face a hunting trial. In werewolf form, he protected the noble unicorn and its minotaur guardians from a group of hunters, much to Hircine's approval. The Daedric Prince rewarded Haa-Rei with mastery over his lycanthropy.

Chapter 70



The next afternoon, after perhaps the most restful night’s sleep of my life, I crawled out of my bedroll and shuffled over to the fire. We’d made camp near the shore of Lake Rumare, and it was a particularly misty and chilly day.

Cirinwe was nowhere to be seen, so I helped myself to some dried bear meat and berries that were sitting by the fire, as well as some tea (of course). I’d been so exhausted after the shrine visit that I hadn’t summoned Eithne to keep an eye on the camp, though we were in quite a secluded location and would only be at risk from mudcrabs trying to steal our food.

After a little more lounging and eating, I decided to try and find Cirinwe. She was more than capable of looking after herself, but her absence was curious. Before leaving I made sure to summon Eithne, who somersault-bowed and made herself comfortable in the campfire.

I brought my bow along, just in case, but it would not be needed. I found Cirinwe in a small clearing to the south, practicing spells. A large boulder nearby was looking a little worse for wear, clearly used as a target for some ranged spells. Cirinwe paused when I entered the clearing, and quickly ushered me over to stand next to her.

“Stand here.” She moved me to a specific spot, deciding to forgo traditional greetings and get right to it.

“What are you doing?” I asked, puzzled, as the Altmer moved between several points in the clearing and cast some spells. After that, she returned to stand next to me and cast a longer spell.

With a final gesture, golden runes lit up on the floor at the previous spell locations, and a large bubble of light appeared around us. After a few moments it faded again, but I could still sense the magic.

“A shield spell, to protect the camp.” Cirinwe nodded in satisfaction, rightfully pleased with her work.

“Impressive.” I stepped out of the shield, back in, and back out again. I found a palm-sized pebble and tossed it towards Cirinwe, only for it to bounce harmlessly off the shield and land next to my feet. “Very impressive.”

“Thank you. It took me a few attempts to get the runes right. I had to borrow a book from you.” Cirinwe gestured to a tome lying on a nearby rock which I recognised as an encyclopaedia of runic inscriptions and incantations.

“Well I’m glad to hav-” I paused before I could finish, hearing something nearby.

“Trouble?” Cirinwe retrieved the tome and her sword, ready for action, but relaxed when I shook my head. Cirinwe quickly dispelled her shield bubble and we headed off.

The source of the sound was back at camp. Trivea had arrived, and was standing face to face with Eithne on the border of our camp.

“Eithne, please, you know me.” Trivea sighed, crossing her arms.

“Yes, but master Haa-Rei and mistress Cirinwe aren’t here right now, and I can’t let anyone in the camp.” Eithne puffed her chest out and copied Trivea’s crossed arms stance.

“We’re here now Eithne, thank you for keeping an eye on things.” The flame atronach nodded and floated back to the fire, happy to let me take over.

“Finally! Where have you two been? Canoodling in the forest?” Trivea, at my gestured invitation, took a seat by the fire. She was rather damp from the mist, and looked a little bedraggled.

“We weren’t ‘canoodling’. Besides, we’ve been wondering where you’d got to.” I set my bow down and took a seat a little further away, more content than the other two to remain slightly damp. We had indeed been waiting on Trivea, who’d originally supposed to join us at Hircine’s shrine.

“Ah, yes. Sorry about that, my dear. It would seem that there are some vampire hunters in the area, and I had to make sure they weren’t here for me.”

“That’s not good.” Even for a vampire as old as Trivea, hunters were still a threat. Even though they likely couldn’t kill her, they could reveal her nature to the authorities and she’d be forced to move elsewhere and go into hiding.

“Indeed. Unfortunately, though not here for me, it seems that they are heading towards Skingrad.”

“So we’re likely to bump into them at some point.”

“Correct again. I’m not sure exactly what they’re after in Skingrad, but it can’t be good. Anyway, enough about that dreary subject. How did you get on at the shrine?” I’d hardly call vampire hunters ‘dreary’, but it was obviously not one of her favourite subjects.

And so I told the story of the Unicorn hunt to Trivea, who listened intently and looked every bit the proud parent by the end of it.

“Aah, to think you were just a puppy when I found you in the Solstheim snow, and now you’re a fully-fledged werewolf pack leader.” The Dunmer made a show of wiping a tear from her eye. Even if she wouldn’t say it out loud or seriously, I could tell that she was pleased for me.

Cirinwe, Trivea, Eithne and I spent the rest of the day resting and relaxing. Trivea was most impressed by Cirinwe’s shield ritual, while I spent some time with Eithne to practice my own spellcasting abilities.

The next morning, still under heavy mist, we packed up camp and set off towards Skingrad.

Posted by: ghastley Jun 2 2017, 02:27 PM

Again, your timing is suspicious, as I'm just working on making Conina's hairbrush, comb, hand-mirror and scissors into weapons (as that's the only way to have them hand-held). They will all be one-handed, however. Please just envision Cirinwe running with scissors.

I liked that rune shield spell, a nice mix of things from several of the games. And Eithne's developing a bit of character as we get to know her.

Nice one!

Posted by: Acadian Jun 2 2017, 07:58 PM

A delightful episode simply packed full of fun stuff! You have really brought Eithne to light as a wonderfully warm (lol) friend just full of personality and appropriate quirks.

A brilliant idea by Cirinwe to invent a runic warding spell to protect their camp. Between that and Eithne, Scales and Scars should be able to canoodle sleep in peace at night.

Great to see Trivea again and I’d like to imagine the vampire hunters she mentioned were the very ones that Count Skingrad wants some help with in the game.

Posted by: hazmick Jun 16 2017, 02:40 PM

ghastley - Cirinwe is a good girl, and would never run with scissors! Perhaps dual wielding brushes would be more efficient than one large greatbrush.

Acadian - Now all we need is for Haa-Rei to invent a tea summoning spell (or a tea atronach) and we'll be all set!



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe took some time to relax and practice spellcraft while waiting for Trivea to meet them. When the vampiress finally arrived, the three set off for Skingrad...

Chapter 71



The trip to Skingrad was uneventful, but I was on edge almost the whole time. Signs of battle could be seen quite frequently, and twice we found piles of daedra in smouldering heaps by the roadside. Oblivion gates were popping up more frequently, and while there weren’t enough guards on the roads to close the gates, there were enough to put up a good fight.

Skingrad in particular would fare better than other towns – the guards were better equipped, better trained, and sat behind stronger walls. I briefly thought about how strong Kvatch would have been, but left that thought unfinished.

“I’ll have to leave you here.” Trivea said suddenly, nodding towards a group of people outside the town’s gates.

“Vampire hunters?” I asked, noting the group’s silver weapons and armour. They were well equipped to fight vampires, ghosts, and perhaps even werewolves.

“Looks like it. Meet me at this address.” After handing Cirinwe a piece of parchment, the vampiress stepped off the road and disappeared into the wilderness.

The hunters eyed us warily as we passed, but a bright smile from Cirinwe was enough to set them at ease and allow us to enter the town unquestioned. We had slightly more trouble finding Trivea’s address, as the winding streets of Skingrad lacked any proper signage. Eventually we arrived on the doorstep of a large manor, which had Trivea’s scent all over it, and knocked on the heavy door.

When the door opened, we were greeted by a heavy-set Nord woman, who ushered us inside and informed us that ‘Mistress Trivea’ was waiting upstairs.

“Welcome to my home.” Trivea greeted us on the second (of three) floor. Her travelling leathers had been swapped for an elegant deep purple dress, with fur trim and more jewellery than anyone had any business owning. Quite how she had managed to enter the town and get changed so quickly was beyond me, but she did like to be mysterious.

“Well it’s certainly different from the caves you usually inhabit.” I dared not touch anything in case I broke something expensive, but the large library certainly caught my attention.

“It’s a beautiful home.” Cirinwe said politely. Compared to the High Elven mansion she grew up in, an Imperial manor must be little better than a hovel. I think we were both just surprised to see Trivea living in such a place.

“Well thank you Cirinwe. Wine?” Our hostess led us over to a comfortable seating area and poured two goblets of wine, one for herself and one for Ciri. We’d only just sat down when the Nord woman reappeared with a tray of snacks and a pot of tea. “Thank you Eyja, that will be all for today.”

“Yes mistress.” The Nord curtseyed and made her way back down the stairs.

“Since when were you a noblewoman?” I asked over the rim of my tea cup.

“Oh it’s been years now. Quite a good place to hide from hunters, yes?”

“What are you going to do about them?” Cirinwe asked between sips of wine.

“For now? Nothing. I need to go and see the Count first.”

“The Count?”

“Count Skingrad and I are very old friends, and he will no doubt want this to be handled in a specific way. If you two are up for it, why not come along?”


Thus it was that Cirinwe and I found ourselves, at midnight, waiting in the castle for an audience with Count Skingrad. I didn’t ask why we had to wait so late, and I was starting to piece things together. When the Count arrived, his appearance didn’t surprise me.

Pale skin, thin features, and dark eyes with a hint of red to them. Count Skingrad was a vampire.

“Trivea, how good it is to see you. Your friends too.” The count bowed politely, though a glance he sent my way suggested that he was well aware of my lycanthropy, which was no surprise.

“You too, Janus. Now, what’s going on with those hunters?” Trivea got straight to the point, which the Count seemed to appreciate.

“A nest has sprung up in Bloodcrust Cavern. With all the daedra roaming the wilds I can’t risk sending any guards to clear the cave out.”

“I know the place. Leave it to me.” Trivea nodded firmly, and the conversation was concluded. The count returned to his chambers, followed closely by his Argonian steward.

“Well that was
brief.” Cirinwe sounded as confused as I felt.

“I thought a reunion of old friends would be a lot warmer.” I shrugged, though if Trivea and the Count had started laughing and hugging I would probably have been a lot more unnerved.

“Janus isn’t a people person. Besides, I know what we have to do now.”

“
which is?”

“It’s time to go hunting.” Trivea grinned.

Posted by: ghastley Jun 16 2017, 03:10 PM

That called for the "secret society handshake". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1bHBthJN9w

Posted by: Acadian Jun 16 2017, 06:54 PM

I very much enjoy how wonderfully you are incorporating familiar Oblivion things into what is very much your own (and Haa-Rei’s) story. Everything new we learned about Trivea and Janus here seems perfectly fitting and you keep a deliciously appropriate air of mystery around the vampiress.

I look forward to the upcoming hunt – doubtless of vampires but I am equally curious to see if the vampire hunter mercenaries end up in Trivea’s sights. . . or she in theirs.

Posted by: hazmick Jul 21 2017, 01:51 PM

ghastley -

Acadian - Trivea is far too old experienced to let these hunters get the better of her.



Previously - Haa-Rei, Cirinwe, and Trivea arrived in Skingrad. There they learned that Trivea is actually part of the local nobility, and a close friend to the vampire Count Skingrad. The Count asked our trio to deal with some local vampires and the hunters that they have attracted to the city...

Chapter 72



“Here we are.” Trivea motioned to the cave in front of us. After returning home for a quick outfit change, the three of us had made our way straight to Bloodcrust Cavern.

The entrance to the vampire lair was hidden among a large patch of boulders, alarmingly close to Skingrad. Quite how the vampire hunters hadn’t found it yet was beyond me.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, surveying the area for any signs of recent activity(of which there was no sign).

“You and I shall carefully and thoroughly clear the cavern, while Cirinwe holds the entrance. We can’t let a single vampire escape.” Trivea tightened one of the straps on her cuirass and drew her wickedly sharp daggers.

Her plan was solid – Cirinwe’s presence in the cavern, as the only mortal and edible one amongst us, may well drive the vampires into a frenzy. Trivea and I, decidedly less appetising, would be able to move faster and quieter.

The actual entrance to the vampire lair was a simple wooden door, through which only one person could fit at a time. Cirinwe was the last through the entrance, and firmly shut the door behind us. Then, after placing a restoration rune of protection on the ground, nodded to us that she was ready.

“Good luck.” She smiled, her golden skin illuminated in restorative light. Trivea and I nodded and headed deeper into the cave.

We hadn’t gone far when we found our first vampires. I readied my bow and waited a few seconds before firing. As soon as one vampire fell with my arrow in its chest, the second was silenced by Trivea’s daggers. The undead bodies began turning to dust before they’d even hit the ground, allowing me to retrieve my arrow almost immediately.

I took a deep breath through my nose, inhaling the scents of the cavern. I could smell about a dozen vampires, though that scent was mixed with the dampness that one can expect in a cave like this. Trivea motioned for us to split up, as the cave ahead branched in two directions. I would head to the right, and Trivea to the left.

The rocky corridor ahead was almost perfectly straight, but caution bade me move slowly. My night vision had improved since my visit to Hircine’s shrine, though it was still not on the same level as a vampire. As I spotted another enemy ahead, I knew that I would have to act fast. Fortunately I had the advantage of range, and managed to bring the creature down quietly.

I emerged from the corridor into a slightly larger cavern. The smell indicated that there had been some sort of meat stored here at some point, but now I could only see vampires. The first fell without any fuss, but the others were standing fairly close to one another. I could probably have killed them both in quick succession, but I decided not to risk it and waited them out. Sure enough, after a few minutes, they moved apart. The one closest to me wandered over to the side of the cavern, and bent down to open a chest on the ground. The noise of the old chest being opened was good cover for my arrow, which struck the vampire in the neck. I then turned my attention to the second creature, who fell just as quietly. After retrieving a modest sum of gold from the chest, I continued through the cavern and into another corridor.

This corridor turned at a right angle, into a small chamber. The lone vampire in the chamber was busy preparing some sort of alchemical concoction, so I once again decided to be patient. If I shot him now he’d likely drop the vials he was working with, and make some noise in the process. My vigil ended prematurely, however, when the vampire suddenly lurched forward. Glass smashed, potions popped and fizzed, and several flammable ingredients began burning quite fiercely. I tutted loudly when Trivea arrived to retrieve her dagger from the wreckage.

“What happened to ‘quietly’?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You were taking ages, so I figured you were either finished with your vampires or you were dead. Either way, this was the last one.” Trivea grinned, tossing her knife into the air and deftly catching the tip of the blade between two slender fingers.

“Let’s get back to Ciri.” I shouldered my bow and together we returned to the entrance. We arrived to find Cirinwe right where we’d left her, cleaning vampire dust from her sword and depositing it in a large pouch.

“Ah, I thought I heard one slip past me,” Trivea shrugged, “good work.”

“Are you alright?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t even touch me. I trust you two had fun.” Cirinwe smiled, resting her sword on one shoulder.

“All clear. Time to find the hunters and give them the news.” Trivea lead the way out of the cavern and back to Skingrad, though she disappeared shortly before we arrived, leaving Cirinwe and I to find the hunters.

Even though it was only just dawn, we found the hunters outside the chapel of Julianos. From their equipment, I guessed that they were about to head out on a hunt. When Cirinwe approached and told them we’d cleared out the vampires, we were met with some rather sceptical looks.

“The two of you cleared out a nest all by yourselves?” The one who spoke was a Bosmer, presumably the leader of the group. He wore light armour, but carried a heavy-looking battle axe over his shoulder. Clearly he deemed weapons training more important than basic manners. For a brief moment I thought Cirinwe was going to punch the man square in the face, but instead she simply handed him the pouch of vampire dust that she’d collected.

“All by ourselves” Cirinwe smiled brightly. For my part I simply crossed my arms and remained silent.

“Well...maybe you're not lying after all. If they're gone, then there's no point in hanging around here.” The Bosmer motioned to his comrades, and they slowly began to leave. “Damned amateurs. You people should leave it to the professionals."

“Well if you see any professionals, please let us know.” Cirinwe retorted quick as a flash, causing the Bosmer to glare even more fiercely. The firm hand of a fellow hunter led him away, leaving Cirinwe and I alone in the square.

Once the hunters were out of earshot, I burst into a fit of laughter. Cirinwe did her best to remain stoic, but couldn’t help but join in. As the sun rose over Skingrad, the sounds of laughter echoed through the streets.

Posted by: ghastley Jul 21 2017, 02:50 PM

Since my characters never seem to like either side - the vampires or the hunters - I've always let them whittle each other numbers down before mopping up. It's good to see a different approach, especially when it works well.

Even if you hadn't told us the hunter was the Bosmer, I think we'd know him from the dialog alone.

Posted by: Acadian Jul 21 2017, 07:47 PM

What a delightful episode!

Henceforth, our statuesque Almer shall be known as ‘Cirinwe the Edible’.

An elegant dungeon crawl, resulting in significantly less vampires to pester Skingrad. I loved that you brought up how much easier it is to recover an arrow from a pile of ash than a bloody corpse.

A brilliant retort to the ‘professional’ vampire hunters from Ciri.

Posted by: hazmick Aug 18 2017, 03:40 PM

ghastley - Haa-Rei usually would go for that approach, but Cirinwe is very much in favour of NOT killing people if necessary. She's weird like that.

Acadian - Technically ALL elves are edible - just ask the Bosmer!



Previously- Haa-Rei, Cirinwe, and Trivea arrived at Bloodcrust Cavern and cleared it of vampires. Then they returned to Skingrad and informed the vampire hunters that they were no longer needed...

Chapter 73



With the vampires destroyed and the hunters seen off, Cirinwe and I returned to Trivea’s manor. Trivea’s maid informed us that her ladyship had gone to speak with the count, so Cirinwe and I were to make ourselves at home for the time being.

For all the manor was enormous, it actually only had three rooms. The main room housed a dining area, with a seating area and library on a balcony above. Downstairs from the dining room was a modest kitchen, which doubled up as the maid’s quarters. On the top floor of the house was an enormous bedroom, which looked as though it had never been used – it wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that Trivea slept in the basement.

Every inch of wall was decorated with rich tapestries, paintings, or display cases. The windows were all covered by thick curtains, and dozens of candles illuminated the whole house. It was the perfect place for a vampire to lay low.

I was just examining the library when Trivea returned, looking a little disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” Cirinwe asked, obviously picking up on the mood as well.

“The town guards lost an entire patrol to Daedra last night. 10 men.” Trivea flopped down into an armchair and motioned to the maid for some wine.

“Is there a gate nearby?” I asked.

“Not as far as I can tell, though as a conjurer you’d probably have sensed it already.” She was right, of course. The previous gates I’d encountered were like beacons of energy, and it would be difficult for me to miss one nearby.

“What can we do to help?” Cirinwe volunteered, though Trivea shook her head.

“Nothing, thank you. You two still need to head to Anvil, but I’ll remain here to keep an eye on things.”

“Any idea where the Daedra came from? Even without the dragonfires they shouldn’t be able to stray too far from a gate.” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Last seen headed west. I suggest the two of you head out as soon as you’re ready.”

Thanks to Cirinwe’s organisational skills, we were pretty much always ready to head out. After bidding farewell to Trivea, we set off towards Anvil. The idea that an Oblivion gate could have opened near the city was, unsurprisingly, weighing heavily on Cirinwe. I was also not too fond of the idea, especially after the daedra so soundly defeated a group of Skingrad’s finest. The Anvil guards were similarly well funded, though more used to breaking up brawls between sailors than fighting daedra or undead.

With Kvatch gone, the Gold Road would have significantly less guards patrolling and
well
guarding. Signs of Daedra were everywhere – deep gouges in the earth from Clannfears, the occasional scorched rock or tree courtesy of scamps. We didn’t see the daedra themselves though – whether or not that was a good thing
I’m not so sure.

The last time Cirinwe and I had been this way, the journey had taken considerably longer. She had been a robe-clad mage, unused to travelling or camping. Now she was wearing heavy armour, and moving almost as a quickly as I did. We were setting up camp in sheltered area just to the east of Kvatch.

The sun was still up, but with Daedra potentially roaming around I felt it safer to get everything set up now. While Cirinwe cast her warding spells around the camp, I set off to see about catching something to eat.

The plains around Kvatch were eerily quiet. The presence of daedra seemed to have frightened away any deer or birds. Fortunately there were still some rabbits to be found, two of which I dispatched quickly and tied to my belt. The only other animal I saw was the scarred and savaged body of a mountain lion, which appeared to have encountered some daedra. Two dead scamps lay broken nearby, and some tracks indicated that the remaining creatures had headed west. If there was an Oblivion gate over that way, I would close it.

I hastened back to camp and began preparing the rabbits. I added carrots, onions, and herbs, along with the meat, to a large pot of water. After 2 hours over the fire, it would be done. While we waited, Cirinwe and I would usually read or chat, but today my elven companion was deep in thought. Of course she was worried about her sister in Anvil, and I could hardly tell her not to worry about it with the ruins of Kvatch plainly visible against the setting sun. Instead I made a pot of tea, and silently handed a cup to Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei
if there’s a gate near Anvil
” Cirinwe began.

“Then we shall find it, and we shall close it.” I finished.

“Are you worried about Leyawiin?” She asked after a few minutes.

“I haven’t really thought about it. I suppose I am, a little.” As I lifted the lid off the cooking pot, the rich scent was picked up by the light evening breeze and wafted around the camp. Nearly ready.

“Don’t you want to go back?”

“Not really. If I was back there, waiting around for an Oblivion gate to pop up, I wouldn’t be much help to anyone. I prefer being out here.” I leaned back and looked up at the stars, only a few were visible at that moment, but they were beautiful.

Cirinwe shuffled over to sit beside me, leaning into my shoulder to follow my gaze upwards. A faint smile played across her lips for a moment, and she seemed to brighten up ever so slightly.

“Thank you.” She said, nudging me lightly with an armoured elbow. Quite what I was being thanked for, I wasn’t sure.

I returned the nudge with my own, slightly less metallic, elbow before finally serving dinner. Despite the daedra and whatever else that may threaten our homes, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.