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> The Tale of Aurora Delvanni: Chapter One, Aurora Delvanni is forced to flee to Skyrim and start a new life.
Tellie
post Feb 1 2017, 09:29 PM
Post #21


Mouth
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Joined: 10-November 05
From: Tel Delvanni



“This is big,” were my first words once we saw what hid behind the old door. A humongous cavern with a fair bit of old Nord architecture thrown in for good measure.

“Our ancestors knew their stuff,” Ralof replied, as stunned as I was if I was to go by the tone of his voice.

Shivering slightly I walked on to the other end of the cavern where a curious curved wall stood among other things. Ducking slightly to avoid a sudden swarm of bats I chuckled slightly as my three companions swore colourfully at their sudden appearance.

“Something wrong?” Faendal asked after he calmed down somewhat. Of the three of them he was certainly the one who was most likely to spot my slight discomfort.

“I don’t know,” I admitted slowly as I searched for the right words. “There’s… something here. As if something inside me is acting up.”

My two Nord companions shared a glance. “Not something… bad I hope?” Hadvar asked.

“Quite the opposite,” I replied. “I feel alive, but at the same time… it’s like I am missing something, familiar whispers that I cannot make out,” I growled angrily. “This is so frustrating,” I cried out angrily as the whispers got louder the closer we got to the other side of the cavern. By the time we got up the stairs to where the wall stood, along with an old stone slab, a very old bookshelf that was used to hold a few potions, and lastly yet another closed stone coffin.

Not that I noticed, I was dragging my feet slowly as I moved in a daze towards the wall that was filled with strange scratches in some sort of strange language that tickled in the back of my mind. The world around me darkened, leaving only the scratches in my vision, almost burning themselves into my mind as they seemed to flow towards me in a wind of white and blue.

The whispers only I had heard had by now reached a crescendo, as if they were sung by a choir of heavy baritones, each word almost feeling like a punch to the head. While the language was as alien to me as the stars themselves some words still made… sense. Words such as FUS, NAH, STRUM, KO, LAAT, KROSIS, IIZ and OD. On one hand I understood nothing, and at the same time I understood it all. I KNEW these words, they were as much a part of me as my own hands.

Dimly I became aware of the world around me again. Faendal, Hadvar and Ralof were all looking at me in worry and seeing as I was down on my knees panting, I knew that I had collapsed again. “That was intense,” I wheezed as I accepted Ralof’s hand, letting him pull me back to my feet.

“What happened?” Faendal asked.

“The wall,” I said as I looked on it again, only to raise an eyebrow at how it seemed to be nothing more than a piece of rock now, nothing special at all. “I… felt it in my mind.”

“Dragonborn,” Hadvar breathed. “You must be dragonborn.”

“Perhaps,” I admitted. I didn’t know much about dragonborn to be honest, but I knew enough, kinda required when you have ancestry like mine. “Considering some of my family it isn’t that great a leap of imagination.”

“Family?” Faendal questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing to worry about,” I placated him.

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted as, rather predictably the stone coffin flew off and yet another draugr rose, this one carrying a big ancient axe, the slight shine and low musical notes that only a few (like myself) could hear told of it having a powerful enchantment on it. Still, we had slaughtered a good score of these so far, how dangerous could this one be?

Quite dangerous it appeared, as no sooner had it laid eyes on us before it blasted us with its own shout of FUS-RO. Perhaps due to my own dragonblood I had some inbuilt resistance to dragon shouts, as I only grunted in pain at the blast of force, while my three companions were blown off their feet and smacked into the wall behind us with the painful cracking sound of bones snapping.

“BUGGER!” I yelled as I now realized that I was without a weapon in my hands, my brain still too scrambled to focus on a spell, and lastly the sharp axe was already descending towards my head.

Of course, I wasn’t about to go quietly into the night either. Thalmor agents, guards, mercenaries, angry farmers, furious shopkeepers and all manner of wildlife had attempted to send me to the next great adventure for decades, and if none of them had managed to get me to lay on my back and accept my fate then you could be damn sure that an ancient shrivelled up bag of rotten flesh and bones would do it either.
Leaning to the side while bending back I JUST managed to avoid the axe that passed by the tip of my nose so close that I could feel the draft of its wake. Before the draugr could reverse its axe I was upon it. First I threw my admittedly strong arms around its neck. Stomping hard on the back of its left knee sent the undead monstrosity to its knees. Ignoring its howls of fury while admiring the strength in the undead, I adjusted my grip slightly and with a sharp jerk snapped its neck.

Instantly the draugr went limp, the power that had sustained it now broken. "Mey" I spat at it, unconsciously slipping into the dragon language as I did so. Looking over at my three companions who were all moaning in pain, but much better after having consumed a potion each to heal their injuries I grinned at them. “So friends, are you ready to continue?”

“She snapped its neck like it was nothing,” Ralof whispered in awe.

“She withstood the thu’um like it was nothing,” Hadvar added.

“She scares me to the point where I want to soil my trousers,” Faendal whimpered, causing all of us to look at him nonplussed.

Ralof and Hadvar both shared a look with eachother before looking at me and the draugr at my feet whose head was turned the wrong way before looking at Faendal again. “Agreed,” they both said, looking at me warily.

I snorted with laughter as I gingerly picked up the axe that had nearly given me a permanent haircut before spotting a big… stone. On one side were more of the same scribbles as on the wall, most of them illegible to me, while the other side held a well carved, if crude map of Skyrim, several locations had been marked out with stars, and I wanted it.

Thankfully there were no more surprises waiting for us. We had apparently reached the end of the barrow with this room, so we took our time, backtracking while taking with us as much as we could drag on the four improvised sleds we made out of wood, linen and leather. It was slow and tedious work, but Alvor the blacksmith’s face when we presented him with enough weapons of steel or iron to outfit everyone in the town several times over was more than worth it.

While the majority wouldn’t be used, rather it would be melted down to proper ingots for Alvor, there was more than enough that could be used. I for my own part immediately swapped out my bow, armour and weapons in return for a full set of proper steel plate (and a battleaxe of the same). I had to wait a few days for it to be forged, time that I spent with Faendal, trying to learn as much as I could about learning to shoot a bow (shooting a crossbow is apparently another thing entirely).

It was well worth the wait though. Stepping into armour that has been forged to fit you, compared to pre fabricated pieces like Legion armour or the like is like the difference between night and day.

“One of my best works,” Alvor admitted as he checked the straps on the armour one last time before I was to set out for Whiterun. “You take care now lass, there’s no telling what waits on the roads.”

I nodded to him and stepped away for a bit so that Hadvar could say goodbye to his family in peace, adjusting my admittedly heavy pack as I did so. While quite low on coin (a measly twenty three coins left) I was well prepared. A waterskin hung on my belt. I had enough rations of dried jerky, some cheese and bread to last me for two weeks on the road. A tent and bedroll to sleep in at night, kindling to make fire, a whetstone for my axe (said axe could easily be used to procure firewood), fork, spoon, knife, plate and soup bowl for meals, and finally the stone I’d found in Bleak Falls Barrow.

Ralof who left the previous day for Windhelm (to Hadvar’s fury), Faendal and Hadvar had all questioned my sanity for lugging the big rock with me, but I wasn’t about to let it go. It was MINE, and I wanted it, even if I didn’t know why. At least I didn’t have to lug around the golden claw of that Lucan in Riverwood wanted any longer, being of pure gold made it admittedly rather heavy compared to its size.

The trek to Whiterun itself was for the most part peaceful. We had a close shave where we ran into a few legionnaires who were escorting a prisoner with them, but fortunately Hadvar was able to explain my presence and we left them in good cheer for the most part at least, I still held somewhat of a grudge against ‘His Imperial Majesty’s’ legionnaires after my near permanent haircut (the fact that I had most likely earned the treatment a dozen times over during the course of my life wasn’t something I would lose sleep over)

After near four days Whiterun finally came in sight. Situated on a large hill/cliff amongst endless fertile plains it certainly struck a majestic pose, the rich green land surrounding it certainly helped with that image, and if the majority of Whiterun hold was like what I could see I certainly understood why Whiterun was considered one of the richest provinces in Skyrim.

“What’s that?” I asked Hadvar when we came close to one of the farms nearest the city itself.

“That’s a giant,” he said as he laid eyes on what I had pointed out, and I had to agree with the statement. The large humanoid certainly lived up to its name as it towered over four people who were trying to bring it down with a combination of arrows and swords. “Companions,” he snorted as he eyed the four warriors fighting the giant.

“Companions?” I queried.

“Spiritual descendants of Ysgramor’s five-hundred,” he explained. “The most famous of all of Skyrim’s warriors, and the closest thing you get to the Fighters Guild,” he explained further.

“Ah,” I exclaimed, probably the reason why the Fighters Guild never managed to gain a foothold in Skyrim then, just like the College of Winterhold always kept the Mages Guild from establishing themselves properly.

And then, the giant managed to break out of the encirclement of warriors and naturally chose to run right in my direction.

“SHOR’S TEETH!” Hadvar swore as he dropped his pack and fumbled for his bow while the giant gained ground remarkably quickly.

I myself didn’t react nearly so panicky. Rather than fear I was excited, FINALLY a worthy foe. My blood was almost singing in anticipation, and it was more of a challenge to not rush towards it than to run away, no doubt due to the combination of my dragonblood, Nord heritage (and my mother’s bedtime stories of slaying giants and dragons in Skyrim) and lastly of course that Delvanni part of me that reared its ugly head at each and every challenge and demanded that I overcome it as bloodily as possible.
Unslinging my axe I held the heavy piece of deadly wood and steel lightly in my hand as I calculated the best avenue of attack, finally, when it was almost close enough to smash Hadvar and I in one sweep of its massive club I reacted.

The bolt of lighting that blasted it right in the face caused its head to snap back as it roared in pain. The FUS-RO-DAH that flew from my mouth with a thunderclap that probably shattered Hadvar’s eardrums and heard from miles away blasted it onto its back. The giants huge bulk no deterrent at all to the devastating effects of a dragonborn unleashing the full fury of a thu’um.

I myself was moving even before it had hit the ground. A risky gamble that paid off, as the giant had barely time to register the fact that it had hit the ground before my new axe broke open its skull, embedding itself into its brains.

“You fight well for an elf,” came to voice of a woman clad in rather… risqué armour with a bow in her hand. If I was to guess I’d say she was perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties at most. Long red hair, deep green eyes and three stripes of blue warpaint across her face in the shape of claw marks.

“I’ll have you know that my mother was a Nord,” I told her coldly. While I have no people with people looking on me as an elf ( I both look and identify myself as a Dunmer after all) I do protest when people try to use it as an insult.

“Yes… I can see it,” the woman said as she studied me more closely, trying to identify my Nord traits that were cleverly hidden by my mostly Dunmer dominated traits.

“You would do well as a Shield-Sister,” she said. “Come see us in Jorrvaskr if you desire to be part of the Companions.”

Well that was unexpected at least. I was more used to the fact that one had to request (in some cases beg) to join up with a Guild, but then again, the Companions weren’t exactly a guild either. “Perhaps one day,” I said slowly, trying to not cause any insult. “I have business with the Jarl first, and then in Winterhold for some time after.”

“Going for the College I assume,” she said dryly.

“Indeed,” I said as I cleaned the blood away from my axe. “Aurora Delvanni,” I said as I held out my hand.

“Aela,” she replied as she grasped my arm in a strong grip. “Come back to Jorrvaskr if you change your mind,” she said as she walked off with her three other companions.

“I might just do that,” I muttered as I slung my axe over my back again. “Pick your jaw off the ground Hadvar,” I said with a grin to my friend. “The Jarl isn’t going to come to us after all.”


I'M BACK...for now at least biggrin.gif
As you see I've addaded a 'touch' more of reality to it all. So instead of running from Riverwood to WHiterun in an hour or so (in-game-clock that is) I've added size to the land of Skyrim, and will also make the cities and villages larger as well, both in terms of dwellings and inhabitants, as the amount of NPC's in SKyrim wouldn't be near enough to sustain a population for an entire country. This decision was first made actually when Alvor's daughter mentioned in game that she and her mother used to visit the market in Whiterun once a month or so before the Civil War, and I immediately thought 'only once a month? Whiterun isn't that far away' so that made me decide to add to the size and scope of the land.

I also decided to add a bit more 'mystique' to the word walls, such as making it possible to learn more than just one word, after all, the Dragonborn is supposed to have instinctual knowledge of the language of dragons and all that, so there will be changes there, such as learning more than one word from a wall, also the whole 'consume an entire souls and its power/knowledge from a dragon to unlock ONE word' always felt a bit silly to me, so 'consuming' a soul will do more than unlock a single shout. Rather it will add some power to the shouts, as well as of course add to Aurora's knowledge of dragons, and also make it easier for her to use shouts, as since we've seen, using a shout can have rather adverse effects, such as making her collapse or even gain internal injuries to the point where she is coughing up blood.

Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed this update, so read and review while I run off to write more.


This post has been edited by Tellie: Feb 1 2017, 09:34 PM


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mALX
post Feb 3 2017, 02:42 AM
Post #22


Ancient
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Joined: 14-March 10
From: Cyrodiil, the Wastelands, and BFE TN





TELLIE!!!!


You're back Writing!!! WOO HOO !!!!!!!!




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