@Acadian: Yes, everyone is ok, or will be.
I imagine battles are always extra difficult when it’s someone you love putting their life on the line right next to you. He would have to learn to cope, or get out.
Worst nightmare, yes those were spiders.
Thanks Acadian!
@SubRosa: At least Kharjo isn’t foolish enough to try to stop her!
It was indeed the Breton that brought in the Oblivion-spawn! I tweaked the summoning effect, the purple blob doesn’t do it for me.
Dawnbreaker is so pretty, but it’s hard to justify carrying it sometimes. Definitely more for a paladin or something, and not a sneaky Khajiit.
Thanks SubRosa!
@Grits: The Dremora’s armor is what I would expect a ‘disintegrate weapon’ enchantment to work like.
Aravi’s preference to go un-booted (lol) definitely makes her vulnerable in some ways. She usually sees traps, but when she steps into them, they are extra painful.
I am so glad you are enjoying Darnand’s role in this.
The falls is on Valtheim Towers! Thanks Grits!
@Darkness Eternal Do not worry about Septim, this was no full blown Gate. Just a summoning.
Armor – that’s the oak flesh spell just as it’s cast.
Bringing the light – she definitely isn’t joining the Vigil. She regards them with caution when she sees them on the road. She’s quite conscious of what they would do to someone that was a werewolf.
Thanks DE!
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Wow it’s been a long time since I have updated this. I apologize, I do not like it when other authors are sporadic with updates. And here I am, guilty of doing just that.
Previously, Aravi, Kharjo, and Darnand were fighting Forsworn at Lost Valley Redoubt. Jerric was thrown into prison by the Jarl of Markarth. If Darnand wanted to free Jerric, he had to recover a shield from these Forsworn.
They just defeated the last of the common warriors. Aravi fell into a river in the fight, and Darnand summoned a Dremora. When Aravi was pulled out of the river, she was injured and could not move. Kharjo and Darnand have to go on without her to finish what they came here to do.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kharjo hefted his axe and stepped ahead of Darnand. Kharjo could hear voices on the other side of the palisade. There was more than one, and they croaked to each other, unhurried by the obvious battle that just took place just on the other side of their fortification.
“Hagravens!” Darnand said excitedly. “They are doing a sort of ritual.”
“Should this one interrupt?”
Darnand looked pale, but nodded. “Definitely.”
Kharjo got the impression that the mage had an idea of what was going on behind those timber walls.
“Ready?” Kharjo asked. Darnand downed a potion and nodded.
The Breton looked frail to Kharjo. No armor, no physical weapons.
How does this one go into combat, all but naked? He paused, wanting to ask if Darnand if he really was ready. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shook his head, and started moving.
They rounded the corner, and Kharjo momentarily paused to take in the scene before him. A man, pale from blood loss, lay naked on an altar with two hagravens attending to him. Kharjo saw the reason the man was pale: his heart was torn out. The blood around the wound was fresh. The man was also one of the Forsworn, Kharjo could tell by the weathered features and the tattoos on the man’s body. He had been a very strong man, probably one of their warriors.
Why would these ones kill one of their own? Is this some sort of a punishment?A violet bolt of energy flew past Kharjo and hit the dead man. His body started to rise into the air by some unseen force.
The hagravens reacted immediately, shrieking furiously and shredding the man before them with their talons. Kharjo was shaken out of inaction by the gruesome scene. He raised his shield and charged. Lightning crackled around him as he slammed into one of the shrieking bodies. Using the spiked point of his war axe and his shield, he lifted one of the hagravens over his head and dumped it behind him. Claws raked uselessly at his armored calves. Kharjo spun around and stomped on the hagraven’s face with his heavy boot. The squirming stopped. He swung his axe into its neck, nearly severing the head. Blood flowed freely. It was dead now.
He looked over and saw Darnand locked in combat with the last hagraven. He held a ward in front of his body and a stream of lightning struck the last hagraven’s ward. In return, fire lashed his ward from the fingers of the hagraven. There was no way Kharjo could get involved. Darnand was on his own.
Darnand stopped his attack, but kept his ward up. His free hand started to glow brighter and brighter with blue lightning. Thunder rolled down the mountain top and Kharjo squeezed his eyes shut from the blinding light. When he opened his eyes again, a ghost image dominated his vision, but he could also see the Breton. Darnand was sheathed in fire, his arms held before him. The hagraven had just enough time to form an ice spike and throw it at him before the fire leapt from Darnand’s body and engulfed the hagraven. Darnand twisted to the side and fell heavily to the ground. The hagraven burned to death.
***
“Is this one alright?!” Kharjo asked urgently, kneeling at the mage’s side. Darnand was shaking. Kharjo didn’t wait for Darnand to answer, and started to look for holes. “Did the ice hit?” he didn’t see any shards or holes.
“Yes, yes, I believe I am quite whole,” Darnand answered between gasps. He held his hands in front of his face. They were visibly shaking.
Kharjo realized it was adrenaline. He left Darnand a moment and checked on the hagraven.
It was a disgusting burnt husk. The smell of roast meat conflicted his senses at the scene. He realized that the bird was still alive, though barely. He ended that with a swing of his axe.
Darnand was more composed when Kharjo returned to him. He hauled the mage to his feet.
“These ones came here for a shield, yes?”
“Correct,” Darnand replied. Kharjo found it upon the altar, used as a tray. A bloody heart sat in the center, in a sticky pool. He frowned and tipped the shield on its side, dumping the organ onto the ground.
“They call these ones beasts,” he muttered.
As he wiped the blood off, he called to the mage, “This one has it, Aravi waits!”
Darnand was at a shelf of stone, with rough runes carved upon its surface.
“A moment please,” the mage replied. He dug through his pack to the impatience of Kharjo.
He left Darnand there and returned to Aravi.
She was slowly getting to her feet. “Where’s Darnand?”
“Tracing some rocks,” he replied with annoyance.
Aravi let out a sigh of relief. She took an experimental step. Kharjo heard a sharp inhalation, saw her tense up. But she took the step.
“Did you find the shield?” she asked.
Rather than reply, Kharjo simply turned to show where it was hanging from his pack.
“Good. Then we can leave this place. As soon as we get our mage back.”
As if on cue, Darnand made his appearance, rolling up a scroll and stashing it in his own pack.
“I found some most fascinating markings carved into a stone shelf. They are clearly ancient from the wear on them, definitely not made by these forsworn. I believe they match the general time when this old structure was first built by the ancient Nords. I have seen markings like this in other Nord ruins as well, suggesting that…”
Kharjo tuned out the Breton as he spoke. Aravi shook her head slightly, and the two of them turned to start down the mountain.
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I’ve been sitting on this picture for a while now, and it is with great pleasure I share it now.
Aravi and Odahviing by Julia
This post has been edited by King Coin: Feb 23 2014, 07:17 PM