Luna Lioria, A Shroud of Light in a City of Darkness Options

[gamer10]

Luna Lioria is a story written from the perspective of a rebellious, and somewhat foolish, young Imperial girl named Luna who decides that she can no longer live with her "controlling" parents, and decides to run off on her own. To where, she doesn't know, and reality ultimately takes her by surprise. This first chapter encompasses her time spent in and around the Imperial City.

Morndas, 6th of Evening Star, Late Evening


I looked about me, the soft glow of the candle on the bedside table comforting as my gaze drifted towards the window, the panes of glass seemed barely able to hold out against the chilling winds that struck it so cruelly.

Glad I'm not a window.

I shook my head, what a silly thought, my exhaustion was getting the better of me and I felt as if I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings.

Not good, not good.

I had to stay awake, but I knew that I couldn't resist the tempting lure of a good nights sleep, and I would eventually have to give up the struggle, the enemy so relentless.

Why not leave in the morning?

My mother and father would never let me leave, let me go. I had to strike out when they were deep in their dreams. To them I was yet a child, but I knew myself to be different. I was fifteen, no longer a child, but not yet an adult. I was in between, the best stage of life for learning and experience.

I picked up my small bag containing some food, and a quill and paper, which I had taken from my mother’s desk. She would not mind I knew, because she would be nearly dead with worry over where I had gone. I felt guilty for this, but I couldn't help but wonder what awaited me as I stepped out the door into the slushy streets of Cyrodiil. Sleep could wait out the night.

The lantern I held in one hand lit the darkness that descended upon me, and it let me see my way around the familiar city.

The great houses, built solid and high, surrounded me, but provided little comfort. I could hardly see them anyway, night had set hours ago.

I had left my parents softly snoring in their bed, as I strode into a new era for myself, an era in my life of adventure. This era, I hoped, would be filled with mystifying times and tribulations for me to explore. Yet I felt wary as well, of what exactly I did not know, but I suppose it was the whole idea of leaving the Imperial Province, and journeying to a foreign land.

The night air was crisp and dry, I stood for a moment just a block or so by my judgment from my home. Gazing excitedly about me, I pondered deeply.

What if I am never to come back?

Brushing the ominous thought aside, I took a step further into the dark.

My hand took the brunt of a brick building and the lantern fell to the ground breaking open upon the icy street as the light I had been so grateful to have faded. I was thrust into the dark city of Cyrodiil, alone and without guidance. This was it, I knew, this was adventure, or at least the start of one. My stomach lurched, I was fearful, for all I had learned, all the knowledge I had gathered to this point, could not prepare me for survival on my own without others. I had no one now, I was really truly alone. The familiarity of the city drifted, and I found that I no longer knew what I thought I had.

Am I alone?

I froze, realizing that there may yet be someone who would see to it that I was not alone, and for the first time as well, I hoped to the gods that I was. The spell of fear I felt quickly left me, in a mere matter of seconds, and I regained most of the confident mental stability I had been overtaken by just a minute ago. The deepening fear had only subsided temporarily, I recognized, and it lingered with me in the back of my mind. It was the kind of fear someone got when they were about to get caught doing something they shouldn't be doing.

Without thinking, and hardly a second passed, my hand flew to my belt and my sword slashed through the air. Someone grabbed my hand, placing their own hand over my mouth. My sword however, contacted someone. I heard a shout of pain, and the collapse of a body. My hand was wet, but from what I could not see in the dark, though I guessed it to be blood.

My heart pounded as I dashed through the streets, desperate to find refuge and hide myself from the terrors that wandered here in the Imperial city.

I was barely aware of myself as I ran, panic had taken over. My sword still swung loosely from my hand as I slowed myself. I contemplated turning around and finding my way home, but I couldn't, I couldn't make myself now.

Eventually I managed to come to a complete halt, but now I was in a foreign part of the city. I had never wandered here before, and I wish I hadn't now.

There was nobody out, but I still felt my skin crawl as a shiver ran from my head to my toes. I stood there trembling, my eyes darting wildly back and forth.

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I spun around and kicked, ferociously attacking my stalker.

"Hold, hold!"

I stopped suddenly as the man kneeled, holding a hand to his stomach, his face a grimace.

"Quite a kick you've got there, is that how you greet everyone?"

I frowned, nearly sick "Do you often sneak up on young girls at night?" I asked accusingly, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword.

"Calm down miss, I didn't mean you any harm." The man looked up and grinned maliciously, I noticed, though his face was hardly visible, "You can stop shaking."

I took a few steps back.

The man's smile disappeared, "Now hold on a second, you wait right there!"

I turned in a hurry, and dashed off, only to get several feet before backing up again, as a man passed out of the shadows.

"You heard him," the strange man said, he held a sword in hand, "Stay right there."

I unsheathed my sword and lunged, luckily taking the stranger by surprise. The man didn't have time to dodge as the blade passed through him. I drew it out, and the body collapsed to the ground. Once again I found myself scurrying through the city.

It was sick; I knew what they would do to a young lady such as me, the pervasive nature of the drunks out this time of night.

I was freezing; the snow was coming down fast, wetting my clothes.

I must find somewhere to wait out the night.

Where?

I collapsed on the street, the ice and slush viciously biting at me as I pulled my knees to me and placed my head on them, noticeably shaking and shivering as my breath came in short gasps.

What am I, a child? Giving up so easily.

Yes, a child .

The world seemed so cold, both literally and metaphorically, and I had to struggle to hold my tears back.

The grim cruelty of reality took me, and I can't recall when or even how I managed to drift off into sleep as the freezing cold continued to assault me.

[minque]

Ohhh......nice gamer!....very well and suggestive written...Quite an adventurous night for young Luna, let´s hope she´ll feel better in the morning...

Keep it up, ya hear?

[Kiln]

Very interesting story Gamer, I like the way reality takes its toll on the character so quickly as she realises that this whole thing won't be so easy. Interesting encounter with the drunks as well.

Very well executed, keep up the good work.

[Dantrag]

Is this over, or is it going to be continued?

Great job, I like the descriptive writing and choice of words.

[Disasterpiece449]

Very, very well done. Great start, you get into the sotry right away. I really like how you express her thoughts so much. Helps you get closer to the character. Keep it up!

[mplantinga]

To have so much "reality" hit her in one night is pretty scary. Perhaps she should have waited until right before her parents woke up? Anyway, a great start to the story. I am looking forward to seeing what happens next.

[gamer10]

Tirdas, 7th of Evening Star, Early Morning

When I awoke my fingers where numb, and it was still dark, but light was playing at the sky, it was very early Morning.

For some strange reason I had not shifted position in the snow, still kneeling with my hands pressed into the mixture of freezing ice and water that had collected on the street.

Someone was standing over me, and, as I had before, I attempted to act quickly, but my body was stiff, and as I made to throw my hand to the hilt of my sword I fell over sideways.

It wasn't a person at all, I then saw from the corner of my eye, but a dog.

It was small, visibly undernourished, and obviously curious. Its matted golden fur was stained with blood and dirt.

Reaching out hesitantly, I placed one hand on its head, hoping it would not bite.

Instead it moved its head back and forth under my head-!

I drew my hand back quickly, the dog was apparently a nest for fleas. Rising shakily to my feet, I began to stumble awkwardly away from it.

I heard, behind me, the pad of small paws on the pavement, and I turned my head slowly and saw in the dim morning light that the pup had chosen to follow me.

I did my best to scold it, shaking my finger and saying firmly "Go away," but there was something about it that made me nearly melt with sympathy.

"Go away," I said weakly, sneezing, and stumbling against a house. I watched it for several seconds, and during that time it sat still, so I turned and began to walk away . . . .

The darn doggie followed.

Frustrated I spun around, and stomped my foot angrily. "No, go away now!"

The dog whimpered and walked up to me, rubbing its head against my leg.

I sighed and knelt down, look the dog in the eye.

"Listen," I said, knowing this sounded silly.

"I can't let you follow me, I don't even know where I'm going."

To my great surprise, I though I saw the dog's head nod in understanding. Standing up and stepping back, I peered at it, bewildered.

Then it tore off through the streets, passing me, and I'm glad that I had the nerve to follow it.

It lead me out of the city, and I tore my gaze away from it for one second to watch the majestic buildings shrinking behind me.

Then it stopped . . .outside a stable? The stable was strangely abandoned, and stood alone, no cottage accompanied it.

I pushed open the stable door and the dog followed me, right at my heels.

"What is it?" I asked the dog, before smacking my hand against my forehead.

Why am I talking to an animal?

The dog turned its head to look up at me, as if in answer to my question.

Then it took the lead, leading me past a few pens until I came to one that appeared to be inhabited, but it wasn't.

There were books, and a candle, as well as a mat to sleep on. On a small crate beside the mat there was some strange meat, foreign but at least it looked edible.

I glanced down one last time at the dog, before collapsing onto the mat and taking the piece of meat in my hands, etiquitte forgotten.

"Here you go," I said as I handed some of the meat to the dog, who took it in his mouth.

It never did occur to me in the few minutes that I had already spent there, that someone had to live here.

Until the stable door that I had left open closed.

I rose to my feet, and began to exit the wooden pen, which was rather high, only to be stopped. I was looking directly into someones eyes, and I began to shake.

Backing up, I noticed that the figure had a sword in hand.

"I'm sorry," I said hurriedly trying to find some way to escape, "I-I had no idea anyone lived here."

Stepping out of the shadows of the stables infrastructure, the figure spoke.

"Thats all right," he said softly.

His eyes were an alluring brown, and I looked him over, my fear easing.

Perhaps he's friendly . .

"Forgive me," he said with a smile, lowering his weapon before dropping it on the ground, "I wasn't expecting a visitor." He glanced apprehensively at the dog, then he walked over and picked it up, muttering to it.

"So its your dog then? What's its name?" I asked.

He glanced back at me, "I haven't given it one, I think it prefers to be free of any label.

"What's your name then?" I asked.

He averted his gaze, then answered me, and I had to strain my hearing to understand him.

"I don't know."

This post has been edited by gamer10: Jan 8 2006, 02:48 AM

[mplantinga]

Why is it that all the writers on this forum like to leave us in agonizing suspense? To write so well and leave us in suspense can be hard to bear.

In all seriousness, definitely a great installment. I'm very curious to learn more about the man and his dog, who I suspect is probably more than just a dog.

[Florodine of Hlaalu]

Wow this is a must-read, i enjoyed the story a lot. And yes please don't keep us waiting for too long... Please

[Kiln]

Very nice addition Gamer, the strong point of this story seems to be the mystery and uncertainty the character is presented with and you keep the story moving as well as interesting.

Goodjob!

[Dantrag]

Nice. not much to say, other than "Who is this nameless guy!?!?!"

[gamer10]

I cocked an eyebrow, “You mean you’re nameless?” I then folded my arms, and waited for a reply.

“Practically,” he said, looking taken aback at my sudden curiosity.

“Haven’t you ever thought of something you’d want to call yourself,” I asked him, lowering my eyebrow and glancing around once again.

He sat down beside the crate and lifted its lid, reaching inside and withdrawing a flask. “For what reason should I? Names are just labels given by others so they can recognize a person, I personally have no need for one.”

He gestured to the dog, “He calls me ARF!” The young man said loudly, gesticulating as he imitated the bark of the dog. “You can call me that as well, if you prefer.” Then, without any further statements, he raised the flask to his lips and drank.

I watched him inquisitively as he drank, unsure of whether that was meant as a joke. Then, after a few fleeting moments passed, I knelt and patted the dog on the head. “I’ll just call you Windswept,” I said softly, smiling at it.

Suddenly the man was on his feet, and I was sprawled back on the ground, using my arms to support myself as I stared, absolutely terrified, up at him.

“You leave him alone!” He hollered at me, his once gentle face was now one of contorted rage. “If he doesn’t want a name then he doesn’t have to have one!”

He’s completely insane!

“It’s just-just a dog,” I stammered out, crawling back and using the wall of the pen as support as I stood.

He took me by the wrist, and I reached for my sword with my other hand, but before I could draw it, he had twisted me around and now held me by my arms. Unable to reach my weapon, I just stumbled in the direction he pushed me.

He vehemently kicked open the stables doors and pushed me out; I immediately whipped around to face him and drew my sword.

“You filthy maggot!” I screeched, surprised at my own fury. “It’s just a damned dog!” I kicked the ground in frustration and sheathed my sword, all the while he watched me quietly.

I couldn’t stand it, was he purposely being pigheaded? I took a few quick steps towards him and slapped him across the face, my hand leaving behind a red tinted imprint.

Before I could even react he grabbed hold of my arms, but not forcefully this time, and instead of looking at me he stared into an empty space the seemed to occupy the area between us.

“It’s not just a dog.” He said, and let my arms drop to hang at my side. “He’s the only companion I have.” He turned around, now seemingly gloomy, and walked back into the stable, I heard his footsteps fade as he reached the end pen where he had set up his own little home, where he lived his own little life.

I stood there for minutes, listening to myself breath as I attempted to grasp and fully understand him. Then I understood.

Do I want to end up as he is? Alone?

I shook my head; he was more likely an abandoned individual, not a runaway. Taking a deep breath, and gathering my courage and compassion, I stepped in after him.

This post has been edited by gamer10: Jan 11 2006, 10:59 PM

[Kiln]

Very nice piece Gamer, interesting way in which the man reacts to the thought of the dog being named.

Keep up the good work mate!

[mplantinga]

A very intriguing installment. I will admit that the strength of the man's reaction caught me by surprise. I'm looking forward to finding out more about the man so that I can better understand his motivation.

[gamer10]

He was sitting muttering to the dog when I tiptoed into the pen, and I took a seat opposite of him. He finished talking to the dog and patted it on the head as I had, then he looked back up at me.

“I’ve just had a short conversation with him,”

Oh great, he is insane.

“And he says that its okay if you call him Windswept. I-I guess I wouldn’t mind if you called him it either . . . “

He seemed busy with his eyes, looking everywhere but directly at my own eyes.

“Okay,” I said, slightly bothered by the lack of conversation. “I was wondering-“

He nodded, still avoiding my gaze, “You can take whatever you need, and then leave if you like.”

I frowned, “That wasn’t what I-“ I paused and sighed, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me, wherever I’m going.”

His head jerked up, now staring me straight in the face. “Do you mean it?”

I nodded, “Think before you go though, whether or not you want to leave your-er . . .home.”

I heard him snigger, “Heck, if you’re not tired we can leave now, I mean, not to rush you or anything.”

I smiled feebly, “Well, I am rather tired . . .how ‘bout a few hours, you can collect what you want to take and we can go then.”

“All right.”

I closed me eyes and leaned back onto the mat that lie on the left side of the pen, and fell asleep in a matter of seconds.


Tirdas, 7th of Evening Star, Afternoon


When I awoke nameless was rustling through a sack that he had packed while I slept, in it he had managed to place a Journal, a few meals worth of food, and whatever coinage he managed to scrape up.

He saw me raise my head and he mumbled something.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m sorry.”

Surprised, I sat up. “For what?”

He looked embarrassed by now, “I- should’ve controlled my temper, you know . . .”

I nodded in concurrence, “And I forgive you, but I think we should get a move on now.”

He reached out a hand, which I grasped, drowsy after my nap. When I stood he let go quickly, and called his dog, which, though I had not noticed, had chosen to rest next to me on the mat.

“C’mon Windswept,” he said with a quick glance at me.

So, the afternoon after I had struck out from Cyrodiil, I was finally going to get somewhere. Now, we had to catch a ship to get to the mainland, from which we were separated.

This post has been edited by gamer10: Jan 13 2006, 11:10 PM

[mplantinga]

Well, it's good to see that the two of them have made up. I am a little confused why he so quickly agreed to go along with her, but I do hope we'll find out. It's cool that the dog agreed to his new name; somehow having a name makes things feel more real.

[Dantrag]

Good installment.

Maybe he was so quick to come along because living in a barn is boring?

[gamer10]

Their trek brought them to a port, where the leader of the small expedition, Luna, decided they should rest the night at an inn, and set sail for the mainland of the Imperial Province the next morning.


Tirdas, 7th of Evening Star, Late Evening

We moved sluggishly, that is, Windswept, Nameless (I had made finding him a name a resolution, whether he wanted one or not), and I: Luna. It had been but six hours since we began our march, and we found ourselves now comfortably seated in a cozily small inn, with a fire burning in the fireplace, and food before us. Outside the winter gale wrecked havoc upon the homeless and the drunk, neither of which I had much sympathy for. Inside, I was safe from the horrors of late Imperial Winter, which I had experienced all too strongly not so long ago.

Nameless returned from the bar, where he had negotiated with the Keeper, and he looked happy. Knowing him for the short time I had, I wasn’t sure whether his smile meant success or optimistic failure, hopefully not the latter.

“Victory,” he said merrily, leaning forward and placing his head on his arms, which were resting on the table. His closeness unnerved me, and I leaned back away from the table. Noticing my discomfort, he too sat straight.

“We have a room?” I asked.

“I said victory didn’t I,” he reached a hand down to pat Windswept, but his hand touched the flooring of the inn. Embarrassed, and realizing that Windswept had cuddled up against my feet, he quickly pulled his arm back up. I couldn’t resist a smile, but his look of disappointment quickly erased it from my face.

“You have a family?” he asked, hesitant it seemed, at bringing up a personal conversation.

“Of course I do.”

I opened my mouth too quickly, recognizing soon after that he was envious of me for it. It was as if I was the only one in the world with a family, and he had the right to be spiteful.

“You didn’t have to say it like that.” He stammered, pushing his chair back from the table and turning away.

“Don’t get like that.” I commanded, standing up (which ultimately disturbed Windswept from his sleep, and the dog now trotted off to take a position over by the fireplace) then walking over to him.

“Don’t get like what?” he asked defiantly, failing to hide his grief when I looked into his eyes. I could tell he was blinking back tears.

Anxious at the prospect of gaining the attention of those I didn’t know, I pulled him up so he stood facing me. I then proceeded to whisper to him.

“This is neither the right place nor time for tears, wipe them away now and be over it. I don’t know you very well, but maybe later in a more private environment you can tell me about yourself, and what troubles you.”

He did as I instructed, and took his seat again as he wiped his tears away, but the blissful atmosphere our good luck held had all but disappeared into oblivion during his few brief moments of sorrow. I was unsure of whether taking my seat and allowing another conversation to pick up was such a good idea, but fearing for his sentiment, which seemed dangerously negative at the moment, I took it upon myself to sit back down.

“I’m rather sleepy; I fancy a nice nights rest might be nice for the both of us. Shouldn’t stay up to late, or you won’t be alert in the morning.”

He nodded approvingly, and I relaxed. “I’ll try my best,” he said.

What is the matter with him?

“I’m going to turn in now,” I stated, standing up as he handed me a scroll that had our room number scrawled out upon it. “Don’t wait to long,” I said as I yawned and stretched.

“Good night Luna.”

“Good night, erm-“ I felt my face redden as I remembered that he didn’t have a name.

To my surprise he chuckled, and I glanced down at him, “Well,” I told him, “Don’t forget about Windswept.”

Then I strode up the stairwell and to our room.

This post has been edited by gamer10: Jan 21 2006, 02:17 AM

[Dantrag]

Nice update. Mr. Nameless' moodswings are pretty unnerving...

[mplantinga]

It sounds like Nameless is concealing a great depth of so-far nameless emotions. His scars must run deep, and his pain must be close to the surface, for him to be so easily affected by the events around him. It sounds like Luna is on the right track, though, and I'm looking forward to watching her help Nameless face his demons.