Listen To THe Sound Of The Ashlands, Chapter 1->The Return Options

[Fiach]

Note: This is my first bit of serious fan-fiction, so please be patient with me xD
I would really appreciate it if whoever reads this give me their opinion on the story, as well as any ways that I can improve, which is something that I'm very passionate about.
But without any delay, let's begin.

Prologue

“So you’re planning to go through with it?” Sul-Matuul asked.

“Yes”

The old Ashlander sighed, his hand moving slowly against his withered face.
For a moment I began to pity the old mer. Age had paled his dark skin to the point that it was nearly like that of a imperial, his red eyes turning blank with his years.

He was sitting near the centre of his yurt, his body in its squatted form somewhat resembling an old flower. But he still held his staff proudly, and carried his head high with grace. Well at least he did before I entered his yurt this cold Last seed morning.

“I would like you to reconsider” Sul-Matuul said. With a groan I sat down beside him, my fingers playing with the dusty floor. “I don’t think I can this time my friend” I whispered, “I’ve been here for nearly 5 years, I’ve done a lot here but Morrowind....it just doesn’t need me anymore..”

Sul-Matuul slammed his fist against the ground, but I tried not to flinch, “don’t be foolish Lord Nerevarine” he growled, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “You have so much more to do here, Morrowind is your home, and it’s where you’re destined to be!”

Sadly, I shook my head. “Everything will be ok Sul, I mean with you, Vivec....”
“Vivec is a traitor and a fool” He spat, “He should have had the decency to kill himself the day the others fell.”
I shook my head and rose from the ground. “He has the best interests of Morrowind in mind Sul.” I whispered. “The boat to Akavir will be leaving tomorrow... I have to be on my way.”
“Nerevarine!” Sul-Matuul growled, “Morrowind needs you, please don’t abandon her.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but then I noticed droplets of water against the dusty floor. The old mer was crying.

My courage failed and without another word, I turned around and opened up the small yurt skin door, into the world beyond.
As I travelled along the coastline I began to feel the thud of my heartbeat against my throat, a feeling that had escaped me for so long, Excitement and adventure.
I suppose I should tell you a little of myself before I begin my true story, although most of it I’m sure you already know.

My real name is Furan Saris, and I was born in Highrock, according to the local priests there, my mother was an ashlander who fled morrowind, but since she died when I was born, I guess I can’t really be sure. I was taken in by the local chapel of the nine divines, an experience that thankfully, I’ll never go through again. I learned to read and write, but at the cost of my dignity. I was trapped there, at least until he came to see me.
A man arrived at our village one foggy morning, he was a mage, but one that was not connected to any of the local guilds. It was safe to say that he caused a bit of a commotion in the town. He used his magic to entertain, summoning ponies and warriors that arrived in a plume of fire, his mana stirring and creating wonders before my very eyes. I spent days begging him to take me on as an apprentice, as a means to escape this life. The old man, who saw my mana levels agreed.

We left, I learned what I needed to learn, but after less than 4 years my master caught a chill and died. Magic stopped being an idle fancy and more of a means to survive, I was skilled at illusion and acrobatics, which helped me pilfer items from some of highrocks finest. But one night I tried to steal from a mage and I was caught.
Beginning my journey to Morrowind, which started the story every dunmer child grows up learning, the tale of the battle of the red mountain.

To foreigners of our shores this is where the story of the Nerevarine ends, the oblivion crisis set in and people forgot about the land of the dunmer people.
But I think that it is time that I continued the story.

The story of when the Nerevarine returned.

This post has been edited by Fiach: Feb 26 2010, 11:14 PM

[minque]

Hmm..interesting plot. i think this one is promising and I'd like to encourage you to continue.

Good work!

[Fiach]

Thanks minque ^^,

Im working on the first chapter, so hopefully the first chapter will start soon

[Black Hand]

I hate giving constructive criticisms as Ive never been 'trained' or taken any classes on writing, so I'll just say what I can say.

I'm loving this so far, and the story has a great deal of potential to unfold into an epic tale, if you are up to the challenge Irish. Yeah, I know what Eire means....

[Fiach]

I hate giving constructive criticisms as Ive never been 'trained' or taken any classes on writing, so I'll just say what I can say.

I'm loving this so far, and the story has a great deal of potential to unfold into an epic tale, if you are up to the challenge Irish. Yeah, I know what Eire means....

~A comment from the exalted creator of Sethyas Valus, now I guess have no choice but to deliver this "epic tale" also its great that the name of my homeland has gotten around... so lets begin~
Chapter 1 The Return

They have taken you from the imperials cities prison, first by carriage and now by boat, to the east, to Morrowind. Fear not for I am watchful... you have been chosen.
The images return to me again, a sea of fire, with strange letters surrounding me, consuming me, drowning me, the last words are readable and they bring a chill to my spine.
Many fall, but one remains.

My eyes snap open, I wait there for a moment, I wait for Jiub to come up to me, I wait for the old dark elf to ask if I was ok... If I was... Then the future comes back to me again like a huge wave on the shore. I get up, I’m not wearing sack cloth clothes like last time, just a pair of leather greaves with 3 throwing daggers strapped to my chest, also I’m in my own room with its own bed, instead of just a night on the floor. But the rocking of a boat beneath my feet, the throbbing of my head and the confusion remain the same as I stared at the shadows that hung around the edges of my cabin, I couldn’t even be bothered to light a candle.

Slowly the door opens with a crack and a scaly head pokes through the gap. “I heard screaming” it whispered in broken cyrodilic, I shook my head with a smile, “It’s nothing Haeil...” I muttered, my hands rubbing against my eyes. Haeil chuckled and came in with a push of the door.

Haeil is a Tsaesci, one of the fabled snake people of Akavir. He stood just under 3 meters tall, covered in thousands of purple and red scales, he had no legs, just one large spiraling tail and there was no armor whatsoever on his body, as was the akaviri custom, but he held a massive dai-katana on his back which more than made up for it in combat. He chuckled at me with a pair of golden eyes and stared at my bed.

“I bet it was nothing” he said with a wheeze. “But are you sure that you aren’t hiding a lady friend from the crew under your bed?” He smiled and I laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that friend, it was just…nothing really.” Haeil grunted to show he didn’t believe me, but he let the matter drop. “Well it’s time to get up then Furan” He sniffed, “We have another fine day of sailing ahead of us...”
I nodded and pulled on a loose sack cloth shirt before following Haeil out of my cabin.

There are certain moments in your life that you really make you appreciate it for what it’s worth. My time on this ship was easily one of those times, imagine being surrounded by endless water, theres a shadowy purple in the middle of the night but when dawn breaks through, light shatters through the horizon bringing the sea to a rich tropical blue.

As I walked along the deck some people stopped working for a moment to give me a small nod. It was pretty sad actually, we left morrowind all those years ago with about 92 people.
41 dunmer, 29 imperials, 6 argonians, 7 nords and 9 bretons.
But the months on the sea as well as the danger of the continent were harsh to us, out the 92 that left only 4 dunmer and a single nord survived. But Akavir was a strange place. Within weeks of landing on its shores we found entire camps of people who descended from tamrielic armies that were once sent to conquer parts of the continent in the name of the Septim family.

We have about 41 crew members now out of 50, a mix of akaviri natives and some of the tamrielic people who wished to see the land of their ancestors.
When we reached the top of the deck I smiled and took hold of the stern, the steering wheel of the ship. I could feel the waves through the wood of the stern as my mind plunged into my memories.

“Boy…BOY!” I stop rubbing my head for a minute to look up. Before me is an elderly imperial, with a thick white beard and cold hard eyes. “Eh...sorry, I have a bit of a headache…” I whispered, squinting my eyes a little to see if it would help. “That’s not his problem” a nearby guard growled, waving his sword toward me. The imperial nodded as he looked at me, his nose curled as if he had just smelled something foul. “Now the letter that preceded you mentioned that you were born under a certain sign… and what would that b…”
A wave crashed against the hull of the ship, bringing me back. “Be careful Fur” chuckled Haeil softly, “I’m pretty sure that half the people on this ship can’t even swim.”

“Neither can you” shouted one of the other sailors, an imperial who had his arms wrapped around the mast.
Haeil shrugged, “I don’t have any legs, what do you expect?” Some of the crew laughed at this but I just pushed the stern silently beneath my fingers, “So we’ll be in Tamriel waters in about a week?” Haeil nodded, I smiled to myself. “I wonder how much has changed...”

This post has been edited by Fiach: Feb 28 2010, 04:55 PM

[Fiach]

Barrel hauling... imagine one of the most soul crushing jobs that you could possibly do, with the added bonus that every muscle in your body hurt afterwards. But seeing as there was less than half our original numbers on the ship at this stage, it was very important that we all did our part.
The barrels were made of wood from a tang-mo forest, with iron rivets dug deeply to stop them from falling apart. They were filled to the brim with spiced meats, biscuits, ale, everything that was just heavy enough to make me wish that I tried to build up my strength more during my time in vvardenfell.

As I moved another barrel, the wooden boards beneath me creaked from the strain as sea air and the spices from the below me made my eyes water.
“Are you ok?” said a voice behind me.
It was Rull-Ban, a tang-mo warrior who I met 2 years earlier when I was exploring the jungles.
She was just over 2 metres, her small brown head just poking over the barell that she was holding.
“I’m fine” I coughed dropping the barrel on deck, her green eyes flashing with concern.
“Maybe you should rest....” I shook my head softly, taking off my shirt to try to escape the beating sun above me.
Rull-Ban smiles with her monkey face,
“Who’s...” My mind goes blank as the spicy smell rushes up my nostrils.
“Sadrith Mora” I whisper, the sound rolling off my tongue like an exotic fruit. I was standing on the top of Wolverine hall, the results of a successful levitation spell and the fact that one of the guards was passed out near the entrance...Imperials...you had to love them.
The waves crashed against the Cliffside, the salty air rising above me as I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“Is this your first time here?” whispered a voice. I nodded and turned around. She was an Imperial,no more then 19 with a light pale face and dressed in netch leather armour. Her eyes, fierce emeralds seemed to cut straight through me as we looked at each other.
“How did you get up here lady?” I asked, my voice having a small bite to it that I didn’t actually intend to show. The girl ignored it and pointed over to a part of the roof that dipped a little.
“Some good acrobatics skills and thanks to crappy imperial architecture...” She smiled and gave out her hand.
“I’m Abigail”
I took it and shook it.
“I’m Furan Saris”
She looked at me then and gave me a mischievous glance. “Well Furan Saris, I’m getting the impression that you are a man without fear...”
I frowned, where was all this coming from?
With a smile she pulled out a brown cloth sack... My eyes widened, it was my coin purse...but how did she...
“I picked your pocket when your back was turned” She smiled, Abigail nodded to the edge of the roof, it led straight down to the sea, with several jutting rocks breaking through the lashing waves.
“Let’s see how fearless you are...” She whispered and without another word pushed herself off the edge and down onto the rocks below.
I stay there for a moment, shocked. But I looked over the edge and smile.
With a hesitated breath I ran before jumping off the edge.
I open my eyes and look over to Rull-Ban,
“Sorry, what did you say?” I muttered.
Rull-Ban looked over to my shoulder and pointed to my sweaty right arm.
“You have a tattoo there...Tell me, is she your mate?”
I look down on my arm to see it.
Abigail is written there in the darkest ink so that it gleamed brightly against my ashen skin.
I smiled.

“You could say that” I whispered.

This post has been edited by Fiach: Mar 13 2010, 06:17 PM

[Olen]

I like the idea behind this story and am interested to see how you invisage Morrowind after the return.

You wanted advice so I'll offer some:

First it is generally better to write numbers out in full (ie. fourty seven rather than 47). If you read most professional pieces they normally do this because it can be smoother to read. Having said that there are times not to and it's largly personal choice whether you do or not.
The second thing I think might imporve it is just taking a bit more time to move things. There's a lot of good stuff there but I found it rather packed in. You might consider taking more words to say it and flow the different points together. Having said that the structure is there, you're developing the main character and introducing others nicely and there's most definitely the hook to keep the reader in wanting to know what he will return to.

Good stuff, I'll be reading the next part.

[Black Hand]

What he said, pretty much. I am curious as to how MW looks after the return from Mysterious Akavir.

[Fiach]

I’m standing with my back leaning out towards the stern. I breathed in, tasting the crisp sea air in my mouth as the waves rushed and broke against the hull. All of a sudden I hear a shout from above. “Land Ho!”
I turn around eagerly to be greeted by a miracle. Gone was the massive expanse of ocean, the endless days of blue. Akavir was there, looming like a sleeping beast that was waiting for us, that was waiting for me.
We sent out a life boat toward the shore and I was on it, my heart was beating in my chest as the waves crashed and made the small boat bobble underneath us. The boat gave a little shudder as it reached the mainland .If my eyes could have talked they would have sung.

I was surrounded by a million different shades of greens, reds, oranges and yellows. Large purple fruits the size of a guars head hung from branches that were covered with leaves that had drawings on it so intricate that it seemed as if they were drawn by master painters; who’s steady hand could not be matched by anyone alive or dead in Tamriel.

I breathed In the air that was heavy with itchy pollen spores, small creatures that moved to fast to see ran underneath the shadows of these great plants as myself and a handful of other crew man walked ahead. As We walked I felt the sensation of fresh water running up my legs as we walked through a small pond. The blue sky shone overhead as our patient guide until we saw them.
There were no less than 8 of them, Tang-mo mothers, fathers and children. All of them were lying face down in the water as I noticed that the water I was in had turned a deep crimson red. The cause of it was in front of us as well.

It was U shaped and fiery red, the sky itself seemed to have succumbed to its crimson. Daedra that I had once fought in Morrowind and even some breeds that I had never seen before were pouring out wielding claws or barbaric weapons in their hands.
One of the Tang-Mo children turned its head away from the water and looked at me with lifeless milky white eyes.

“Nerevarine” it whispered.
“Wake up.” The Tang-mo’s voice sent a chill down my spine; I was helpless as the daedra surrounded me.
“Wake up”
“Furan!”
“Wake up”
“Furan, Wake up!”

I awoke with a jolt. I was lying on the floor, by the looks of it I rolled off my bed while I was dreaming. I was covered in cold sweat and it took me a moment for me to notice that I was breathing heavily.
Above me was Haeil, who was panting heavily and looking at me with wild eyes. “Haeil...are you ok?” I muttered.
Haeil shook his head and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the bed and out of the cabin. There was an uneasy feeling in my stomach as we walked. I had a bad feeling about this.

We reached the top of the deck within seconds, Haeil’s powerful tail dragging the both of us up the steps with ease. When we reached the top of the ship I noticed them. They were argonians, standing just less than 2 meters tall, their slimy green scales gleaming in the sunlight. They all had a pair of sack cloth pants on them, with a different weapon attached to each of them.

One of them roared in a strange tongue and the others nodded. An argonian that held a daedric short-sword went forward, its yellow eyes scanning the crowd. It’s hand hovering over its blade. “This ship is trespassing on our waters” the creature growled in broken cyrodilic.
“I wish to talk to the captain now, or we will be sending this ship under the depths.”

I stepped forward and raised my hand lazily. “That would be me” I muttered, drawing a throwing knife behind my back.
The argonians looked at me with a thick sneer on his face, “Ash scum” it snapped before spitting at my feet. “You’re under arrest, the part 17 of the caldera laws states that no dunmer can even work on a ship, much less captain one...”

I shook my head softly, “What’s the Caldera...” I asked before being cut off by one of the argonians who drew a chitin shot-sword and leaped toward one of the crew mates, a female Tsaesci. With a growl I threw my dagger at the argonians, the blade catching it in the face before it had time to move toward me.
The argonians looked at me in stunned silence, “Weapons!” one of them screeched, “The dunmer is carrying weapons!” The argonian leader looked furious as it drew its blade. “I order you to move onto our ship ashshit!”
He spat while waving his blade toward me. I shook my head, licked my lips and extended my arms.
I whispered the incantation faster than the other argonians could move, fire erupted from my palms as the consumed the small group of pirates their screams filling the afternoon air.
I sighed softly, “At least that is over” I whispered before I saw the other argonian.

He was taller than the others as he walked from his ship to ours. He was wrapped in soft black robes that barely covered skin that was as black as shadow.
The argonian looked over to his colleagues, now a pile of ash and then to me. “Very impressive dunmer” it whispered, looking at me with a pair of richly golden eyes.
The argonian gave me a crooked smile,
"So you are captain of a ship, you wield weapons and you use magic...That’s 3 unforgivable offences you know” I looked up to the argonian with a glare. “Unforgivable offences to whom?” I asked.

The argonian looked surprised. “Why to the king of Black Marsh of course” He whispered.
“You know, if you break one offence you are given a fine...two and you go to prison... three gets a death sentence...”

My eyes widened as a burst of fire erupted from the argonians palms, the blaze consuming the tiny wooden ship as the screams of my crew surrounded me.
I tried to back away from the flames, I don’t think I got very far as the last sensation that I felt was the cool smash of my body hitting against the sea.
As I floated through the cold abyss I saw the Tango-Mo child again.
“Wake up Nerevarine” it whispered.

“Wake up”

[Fiach]

The waves crashed into my body, playing with it as though I was but a toy, tossing me in the air.My magical powers are forgotten as I returned to the ocean with a large splash.
Rain lashes against my bare skin like a dozen arrows but I’m too numb to care as I float with the waves. Wondering where was it wetter, out in the rain or in the sea.

I'm a little over thirteen years old, I’m living in Cragmoor , a nice isolated breton village, the type of place where everybody knew everybody, their lives devoted to the nine divines, their lives exactly the same.
Small stone cottages which everyone thanked the divine for because without the nine divines we wouldn't have the stone to build houses so we would have to live in the cold with the animals.

And whoever said otherwise was cast out.

It was the fourth of suns dusk, the frost of the morning nipped at my feet with the mercy of a wounded animal. I was in the chapel; the cold of the stone floor was even colder against my bare toes.
"Furan" a voice snapped behind me. I turned to see her; an imperial with her skin withered and sour lips as she looked at me with those accusing grey eyes.
"Good morning Sister Simana" I murmured. I Scuttled over to her.

My nose wrinkled. Thirteen years in this place isn't enough for me to get used to the smell of candlewax, the fatty vapors that always hung in the air like an unwelcome ghost long after mass of the over and the flames of the candle slain.

Mother Simana handed me a thick and tightly woven basket that was filled to the brim with bread.
"Take these around to the houses" She said.
"And don't cause any mischief!" I open my mouth to ask what possible mischief I could cause with a basket full of bread but then I remembered Mother Simana's birch, which she held beside her like a sword.
Just waiting to be planted against the skin of my palms.

Shutting my mouth quickly I took the basket, turned around and began to walk away with the sound of my bare feet squeaking against the wooden floors. I walked slowly.
Mischief gave you bruised palms but running in the chapel meant a night out in the cold.

The fog greeted me with open arms when I went outside, it hung along the ground like a silver blanket but my eyes widened as I scanned the horizon. A black figure was there.
And it was moving toward me.
I stare at him in shock as he approaches me. Strangers are rare to Cragmoor and this man really was strange. He was wrapped in a black cloak that covered his body and most of his face. A single bonemold pauldron protruded out of his left side.
He was stranding straight with a ball of light in his hands before his shawl fell from his face, a face that I had not seen in a long time.
"Master?" I whisper, tears coming to my eyes.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words never leave his lips.
His ruffled skin began to smoother and a rich gold like that of the Altmer, his mousey brown hair turning a stark white that grew until it ran along his black like a snowy waterfall.
Piercing blue eyes escaped her mask, the black robes turning into a elaborate silver dress.
The village vanished around me, it was replaced by a rich and beautiful garden.
"Hello Furan" Azura smiled.

My heart catches in my throat. Looking around me I whisper, "Am I still in Tamriel?" the garden really was beautiful, with golden flowers and rich purple leaves.
Azura shrugged "You are here, that is what matters....You have returned... And for that you have my deepest sympathy."

I look at her sharply but she smiles back that perfect smile.

A crackling reaches my ears as the world begins to dim, darkness surrounding me until all that I could see was that one perfect smile.

~sorry if its a bit poor, but I promise this will be the last major random flashback Lost style dream sequence , expect an update tomorrow.~

[Fiach]

Groaning softly.

I opened my eyes and looked around me. My arms were half buried in the sand and I felt terrible.
My head was throbbing and my right arm was sore. Not the gentle irritation of a bruise but the cold stinging of an open wound.

Careful not to get any more sand into it, I pulled my arm out and looked down at it.

It was pretty badly burnt, charred black skin went as far down as my right hand with several deep cuts along it. I turned around a little and looked down further the beach. There was a figure moving along it, with its gold shining in the sun and it's tail in the sun I couldn't be mistaken.

"HAEIL!" I yelled. Waving my left arm toward him.
Even though he was at the other side of the beach I could see his smile in my mind, like a gash in a piece of wood and a dozen sharp white teeth gleaming brightly in the midday sun.

"I thought you died in the shipwreck" He laughed with a wheeze. his golden scales gleaming.
"Are you alr...oh" he whispered, looking at my arm.
"It's nothing" I said, to be honest I was just happy that he didn't get killed on the ship.

Haeil looked at me with a grin.
"You dunmer are too proud for your own good sometimes..." he said, taking a small medicine pouch off the belt that hung on his shoulders. "I lost my dai-katana" he mumbled softly as he worked.
“If I see that argonian again I’m going to put him on a skewer.”

-----------

"Stop being such a child" he growled softly as I squirmed.
"You're sticking a damn needle into my skin." I muttered. Haeil laughed softly.

He began to wrap some seaweed along the more serious wounds.
"I think that'll do it until we can get you to a healer" he sniffed, looking around him as if he had only seen it for the first time.
"So this is Morrowind eh?"
"yep"

-------

"I just don't get it"

I roll my eyes for the hundredth time.

"They're argonians...what is there to get?"
Haeil shrugged softly.
"They look as if they are the offspring of a tsaesci and an imperial." He spat into the grass as if to get rid of a bad taste in his mouth.

"But you shouldn't really hate them" I laughed, "I mean you're practically...."
Rustling
I stopped.
"Did you hear that?" I whispered quickly. Haeil nodded softly.

We barely had time to do anything before we heard something again.

"ARRRRRRRRRGH!"
My eyes widen. Our attacker was a Khajiit, who flung itself out of the bushes with its short-sword moving wildly in its hands
Haeil laughed and jumped at the Khajiit who stopped in its tracks when it noticed a snake beast nearly twice its size jumping at it. Haeil's tail moved quickly along the khajiits body finishing him off with a swift crack.

"That's disgusting" I said as Haeil stuck his fangs into the dead bandit's neck.
Once he had drunk his fill, Haeil looked up to me and shrugged.
"I have to get my blood somehow." He laughed.

With a sigh I looked down at the khajiit with first curiosity and then pity.
Its face was starved and gaunt, carved into an expression of the purest shock. Obviously from Haeil’s attack.
Netch leather armour covered the khajiits body as it held a chitin short-sword in its hands tighter then a pastor of the nine divines.

With a sigh I took off the cuirass and short-sword and put them on, the Khajiit attacked us because he was desperate.
And when bandits are desperate in an isolated area it's either a good sign or a bad sign.

But no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, I knew that there was something wrong. It hung in the air as Haeil and I continued walking along the bushy land around us.

[minque]

Mmmm interesting, I'm really curious how this will continue....good work!

[Olen]

Interesting indeed, I shall be reading the next part.

As far as critique goes (you said you wanted it) I agree with you that more flashbacks are probably best avoided for the next couple of parts at least. As withall things there are balances to be struck and where you think is right is a matter of personal taste but, although they are an effective way of quickly setting up the backstory, they break the flow of the present of the story and can make it somewhat hard to follow. A good way to check for this is to let a part sit for a while before posting then read over it. How long is entirly a matter of preferance, over night is quite enough though.

Nice peice though, I'll be reading the next part.

[mALX]

I agree the flashbacks disrupt the immersion - which is very hard to do! Unbelievable descriptive language that sinks the reader right into each scene and leaves them feeling as if they had actually smelled, tasted, heard - AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!! I would rather see the background brought in with the same attention if possible - I may start gobbling like a turkey and giving standing ovations in front of my PC after reading every chapter! Just Awesome!

[haute ecole rider]

Just read all of your story so far.

Intriguing! More than adequately so. This promises to be a good one to watch.

Regarding others' comments about flashbacks: I use them myself, but only very sparingly. I can go chapters without the flashbacks. However, I like to use them to demonstrate post-traumatic stress disorder, which is a problem that goes back at least as far as war does. As IRL, it can be darned inconvenient!

I really liked the character, and I found the teasing mention of Abigail almost too much to bear. It leaves me wanting to learn more about the woman who ended up a name on a Dunmer's arm.

[Destri Melarg]

I am thoroughly impressed with this so far. I thought the flashbacks worked to engage the reader while covering the distance of years in which simple narration was inadequate.

You have a genuine knack for description, especially in describing the pain that your character feels:

Rain lashes against my bare skin like a dozen arrows but I’m too numb to care as I float with the waves.

It was the fourth of suns dusk, the frost of the morning nipped at my feet with the mercy of a wounded animal.

Here I think you have a typo in which you missed using the word 'was' or 'is'.

Thirteen years in this place isn't enough for me to get used to the smell of candlewax, the fatty vapors that always hung in the air like an unwelcome ghost long after mass of the over and the flames of the candle slain.

~sorry if its a bit poor, but I promise this will be the last major random flashback Lost style dream sequence , expect an update tomorrow.~

You do it too well to apologize for what you write. I look forward to more.

[Fiach]

wow I come on this morning and I find 3 new comments ^^

Thanks everyone for reading it, I'm really trying to make my first fan fic an intresting read.

I'll post the next part later on today, happy st Patricks day everyone

[haute ecole rider]

wow I come on this morning and I find 3 new comments ^^

Might want to get used to it. There's a certain - ahm - cliche of us who are pretty active at posting on others' threads when we're not busy updating ours!

[Fiach]

Haeil coughed loudly as we walked along. The road was practically dust but after nearly 3 days of walking down it we were used to it, the ground baked hard by the blistering sun above.
I breathed in heavily as we walked on; my netch leather cuirass was slung against my shoulder because of the heat. Haeil was in front of me, silent as he heaved his huge tail against the road, I have no idea if he’s enjoying the sudden warmth of is slowly dying inside that leather armour that he can never take off.
“Furan” he hissed, pointing a finger directly in front of us. I laughed; hope rising in my chest as I saw what he did.
Sadrith Amu said a small sign that was just poking out of the dust.
“It’s Telvanni land” I muttered, pulling my netch cuirass back onto me.
“Telvanni?”
“It’s probably better if you stay here...”
I heard Haeil sigh softly behind me.
Within minutes in the town I was greeted by a pair of guards...guards? They barely looked older than 16! they were both dressed in loose farm clothes, one of them had a chitin cuirass on as well. They were wielding spears loosely in their ashen hands that shook while they spoke.
“State your business...outlander!”
outlander....some things never change...
“My business is trading” I answered with a small sigh, one of the boys looked at me with a snarl,
“You should leave this town alone...we have had nothing but trouble from you outlanders!”
typical Telvanni...
“I don’t have time for this” I growled, beginning to move through them. One of them roared and lunged his spear toward me. I ducked my head and grabbed the spear, knocking it out of the mers hands and sending the other boy to the ground, his weapon rolling on the ground away from him.
“Long spears are defensive weapons” I said with a wink, throwing it at his feet,
“Remember that the next time you try to kill someone with it...”
The both boys seemed to pale at this.
“Ok outlander...we’ll let you through just don’t....don’t cause any trouble...” the guard croaked, his voice nearly failing him. I bowed respectively and walked past them, feeling a little guilty but at the same time feeling like it was an accomplishment beating a pair of farm boys.
The general store of Sadrith Amu had reached a stage where it was practically part of the landscape. The thick stone was a rusted red as it braved the sea air; the tiles above were covered in a rich yellow moss with Traven’s cave written on a rotten wooden sign that hung from an iron chain.
The door opened with a shallow creak without me even touching it, before me was Traven, the dunmer’s grey hair was tied in loose braids against the back of his head, his razor red eyes scanning me up and down outside his shop.
“What do you want?” he snapped before looking at the armour that was on my body.
“Come in” he sniffed, walking quickly toward the counter.
“So sorry I haven’t had a customer in a while you understand...” the pathetic amount of supplies on his shelves pretty much proved it. I smiled and threw a small sack of coins on the counter, 600 drakes. Everything that I had left as well as a small bit of gold that was in the bandits pockets.
The dark elves eyes widened as he counted the drakes, “Where...where did you get this much money?” he gasped, his grey skin now pale beneath the candlelight.
“Adventuring” I laughed, pointing at a few of the things on the shelves to purchase, a pair of robes, a cloth backpack and some food....”The man smiled, “It’s been years since we saw one of your folk around he...” he was cut off by a sudden knock on the door.
A small dark elf came in; no more than 20 he held he bit on the edge of his sleeve nervously his short grey hair not really helping his incredibly sharp face.
“Mr Traven” he asked with his voice quavering.
“Is it about Olissia?” Traven asked softly, The man nodded quickly.
“She won’t get better; she’s still so...so pale”
Traven shrugged, “I’m afraid I can’t help you son... I’m not really much of a healer...”
Lucky boy
“Is there any swelling?” I asked. The man looked confused but slowly he nodded.
“Vomiting?”
“Confusion?”
“Sore limbs?”
3 sharp nods.
I walked over to the shelves, my hands hovering quickly over the ingredients...
Willow Anther...some grave dust....
With a smile I took out Haeil’s mortar and pestle and began to mash the ingredients together, Traven and the young mer were looking at me with interest.
I added a small bit of water from my satchel and poured it into the mortar, mixing it quickly with the edge of my short sword.
By the time it was in the bottle it was a glowing grey.
“Sounds like Rockjoint...” I said, handing him the potion.
“make her drink a spoon of this every 2 hours for about a day, don’t feed her too much but give her plenty of liquids...” The man smiled softly, taking it with a bow he left the room.
Traven looked at me strangely, “You are the first kind outsider I’ve seen in years” he whispered.
I opened my mouth to say something else before I noticed the shine of the setting sun on the horizon, damn it, I only said I’d be gone for an hour...

Haeil was waiting for me as when I left the village. “Have fun?” he chuckled as I threw him a pair of robes to hide his tail.
“Heaps” I laughed as we began to continue our walk.

This post has been edited by Fiach: Mar 18 2010, 01:22 PM

[Verlox]

I like this quite a bit. It's interesting to see the Nerevarine after Red Mountain.

The only issue I have with it is the paragraph spacing.