Memoires of Rales Sarethi, A Morrowind fanfic Options

[mALX]

Tricky Rales!!! Great Write!

[Olen]

Great stuff, I like this one a lot. It's just so morrowind

I'm really looking forward to Rales meeting the ashlanders once he's done in Gnisis...

[Acadian]

Ah, one little quest complete only to be assigned another. Just keep Zerina away from the booze, ok?

A pleasure to read, Remko!

[SubRosa]

Another fun Rales update!

It’s a known fact alcohol tends to loosen lips.
Quoted for Truth! and not just lips either...

[Remko]

Thank you guys
Sorry for the lack of updates lately but spring has made its entrance so I've been pre-occupied with outdoor activities


Day 238

‘A conspiracy you say?’ Darius said the following morning while scratching his chin. ‘That’s most concerning news. Any idea what the conspiracy is about?’
‘No Sir. Nobody will say anything when sober and when drunk all I got were the frayed ends. I was hoping you might have some insight in that, Sir. You’ve known the men far longer than I have. Has anyone been acting suspiciously recently?’
‘I wish I knew my men as well as I’d like trooper. However; now you mention it, last week Uritius Maro was reported by Optio Bologro. According to the drillmaster, Maro was snooping around in the store-room. Maro’s excuse was that he had lost his ring but I nor the drillmaster has ever seen him wearing any kind of jewelry. I guess that could be considered suspicious, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Highly suspicious, Sir’
‘Well, then what are you standing around here for? Get to work, Sarethi!’

The following nights I followed the same strategy. If I wanted the Gnisis legionnaires - all of them - to trust me I had to become one of them rather than just one of the Legion. I made no progress the second and the third night. All I got was pretty much the same as in the first; some vague remarks but no names. Fearing my collegues would see through my façade, the fourth night I let go of some of my caution with drinking. Rather than acting I drank myself into a nice buzz along with the men. I also lost a pretty coin with playing cards. They were playing a game I didn’t really know but joined anyway. If there was a better way to get sympathy and building some camaraderie than buying drinks, it’s with losing most of your gold on a cardgame.
Let’s say I had a lot of sympathy that night.

Day 242

It had been a strange night. I actually managed to get a conversation going with Maro - one of the suspects - but I couldn’t entirely remember the following day. According to Zerina I came swaying, or rather; nearly crawling home. Apparently I was too far gone to even realise I had first draped myself over the dinner table when she urged me to go to sleep. Then on the stairs, then on the floor and finally crashed on the bed.
What I did remember was that Maro had been complaining that his associate - the usage of that particular word caught my undivided attention - had been too careless lately and almost spoilt their future activity. He wouldn’t eloborate on “activity” saying he didn’t trust me. I guess that was more or less my last coherent thought that night: ‘you don’t trust me enough yet’. I figured I needed another night to gain enough trust.

Playing cards and getting utterly hammered together with the men proved its usefulness. The fourth night I was spontanuously invited to join the game - no doubt to rob me of my coins - and had a huge mug of ale pressed into my hand.
My stomach warned me to take it easy on the booze that night but I repressed it. I was sure this would be the night I’d find out Maro’s associate and the activity they had been planning on.
After the second mug my stomach didn’t protest anymore. while I was getting to the third I noticed Maro and what I presumed to be his associate - a fellow legionnaire - talking in a secluded corner of the tavern. Inconspicuously I my made my way over to them in the hope catching some of the discussion. I was in luck; even though I only a caught a fragment of their conversation, three words stuck out like a Nord in Valenwood. Uriel, strike and the third one: Vvardenfell.
You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what they might mean together. They were planning to assassinate the Emperor during his visit to Vvardenfell!
I was certain Darius would be happy I had found out the conspiracy but I also knew I was going to need some hard evidence to back up the most serious accusations.

Day 243

Darius had already given me a location where I should start my hunt for evidence, the storeroom.
I had just started my rummage through the goods when I encountered Maro’s associate, Arius Lurician. He asked me what I was looking for, I quickly made up a story I was looking for something to sell because I had lost most of my money with the card-games. He smiled and promised to teach me a little of the game. ‘Not too much though,’ he laughed, ‘or I can’t win from you anymore.’
I promised to look him up in the tavern when I had some more coin to bet with

Luckily, he had to report to Optio so he couldn’t stay, so I had some time to continue looking undisturbedly. Below some sacks of flour I found a secret entrance to what appeared to be a shrine with a small, locked box on top. My instinct told me that what-ever was in that box, held the key to what the conspiracy was about. Picking locks, however, isn’t something I was very good at. I didn’t have the patience - nor the time - to learn.
I used Wretched’s tip to violently pry open the box and took the note from it. The conspirators would notice the box had been broken open but it didn’t really matter anymore.
The note held all the evidence I needed. All it said was that they needed to strike quickly when Uriel Septim was in Vvardenfell. Exactly what Maro and Arius’ had been discussing about in the tavern. I guess they weren’t conscripted for their intelligence. There was only one sentence for traitors and conspirators.
I had an eery feeling I already knew who was going to be their executioner.

***

As I climbed the stairs from the shrine a sudden bone-chilling thought almost made me shiver physically. Playing cards and having a drink with these two legionnaires had indicated they weren’t the sharpest tools; someone with a lot more influence must be behind the conspiracy. What did two lowly legionnaires have to gain from murdering the Emperor? Except a quick death by the executioner’s blade obviously, there was nothing I could think of. Gold? Not likely. Religious or political fanatics rarely care about monetary gains. There had to be something else.

A better question was: who would have something to gain with the Emperor’s death?
It was doubtful the two pawns would have any idea, if someone really was behind it, he or she wouldn’t be so stupid to enlighten the expandable soldiers and possibly ruin their devious scheme. Which the two legionnaires already had, even with their lack of knowledge of the big picture.
An even worse scenario appeared before my mind’s eye, even though they probably wouldn’t know anything substantial, they still had to be interrogated. I knew the questioning wouldn’t be pretty, I just hoped Darius wouldn’t order me to wring out what litle knowledge the two conspirators had. The general had already shoved an executioner’s task into my shoes before, if he ordered me to torture these two guys, I’d refuse. I hadn’t joined the Legion for such horrendous, yet sometimes recognisably necessary, measures.

‘Found any clues?’
‘Yes Sir. You’re not going to like this though. It seems two soldiers were conspiring to assassinate the Emperor. I’ve found a hidden shrine below the store-room dedicated to this purpose.’
‘What?’ he bellowed in disbelief. ‘Are you sure about that?’
I nodded and gave him the evidence I found in the shrine. ‘To be quite honest Sir, I don’t believe they are the master-mind behind it all. I’ve played cards and talked with these guys and really doubt they’d be smart enough to even plan such a conspiracy. I think someone or something, possibly a powerful person, is behind it all.’
‘Any idea who that could be?’
‘No Sir. At least, not yet.’
‘Hmmmm..’ the general hummed thoughtfully. ‘Do you think Maro or Lurician would know?’
I furrowed my brow. ‘Not likely Sir.’
‘I guess you’re right Sarethi. If there really is someone behind it - we’ll asume it’s a someone rather than a something for now - the soldiers would probably act on a need-to-know basis only.’
‘That’s what I was thinking too Sir.’
‘We’ll need to question them to-’
‘Before you continue Sir,’ I interrupted him. ‘I refuse to act as a torturer. I’m a soldier, not an executioner.’
‘Your conscience flatters you; I was in fact planning on ordering you to do so. You’ve never let me down and have been most effective in your tasks. I’ll find someone else but don’t you ever refuse an order again!’
‘I won’t Sir,’ I replied while shaking my head.
‘As long as it’s an honourable order, right trooper? We’ll need to find another reason to promote you soon. I can do with officers with their head screwed on the right way. Interested?’
I spread my eyes wide. Me, an officer? It did appeal to me, as an officer I would have possibilities to change things, to improve the Legion for the Legion.
‘Can I think about it, Sir?’
General Darius nodded and dismissed me. ‘Don’t take too long though, I have lots of other contenders,’ he winked.
Glad to able to get out of the job of having to violently interrogate my former collegues, I hurried back to the Vabdas residence. If I’d hurry, I could just make it in time for lunch.

Zerina commented I was back early and asked me what was wrong. I could never hide anything from her, my face was an open book to her.
I sighed deep. ‘Two of my collegues in the Legion were found conspiring against the Emperor. General Darius asked me to…. euuhmm… interrogate them.’
‘You mean torture, right? And you refused I guess?’
I didn’t even have to say it, the answer was apparent in my eyes.
‘So, now what? Were you discharged?’
‘No. Actually; I was offered a promotion to officer, I’m not sure I really want that kind of responsibility though.’
‘I think you’d be an excellent officer. You have a kind and just heart as well as a well-founded sense of honour and respect.’
I hugged and kissed her, as usual she had hit the right spot. My mind was made up, I’d accept the promotion.

This post has been edited by Remko: Apr 27 2010, 04:51 PM

[haute ecole rider]

This chapter is as good as I remember it - it highlights Rales's ethical boundaries very effectively. A quick, clean execution is all right (not necessarily good, but sometimes necessary, right?), but torturing for information is not. The fact that Zerina could see the effects of these ethical quandaries on Rales's face is yet another clue to the depth of their relationship.

From the drunk investigation (including losing at cards) to the discovery of the plot and the location of the evidence, to the moral discussion with Darius and coming home to the lovely Zerina, this is one of my favorite chapters.

[minque]

Ahh the talos cult plot! oh I liked that a lot playing it. Very nicely depicted here, I think Serene dealt with those guys....in chapter 3....

Very good job!

[SubRosa]

And who would think that drunken gambling would get one promoted in the Legion? Only Rales could pull that one off! (well, I suppose thwarting a plot against the Emperor might have had something to do with it as well... )

[mALX]

I love Rales inner dialogue in this one, it gives insight into the workings of his mind. Zerina pushing his career forward, lol - That leaves a strong impression, I remembered it from my first read!

[Remko]

Chapter 5: Urshilaku

Day 250

General Darius was most pleased I had accepted the promotion. He gave me some insignia to fasten to my armour to indicate my rank. Unfortunately, there were no more jobs for an officer in Gnisis. Frald the White in Ebonheart might have some imporatant work for me, he informed me.
General Darius also told me the two conspirators had been dealt with appropriately. Like we had surmised, they hadn’t known anything worthwhile. Maro had gurgled some incoherent words just before drawing his last breath; ‘Dawn is breaking’. I wished the words held some meaning to me but they were nothing more than a dead end.

I didn’t inquire further, I didn’t really wanted to know anyway. At least their blood wasn’t on my hands. I felt guilty about their deaths none-the-less, even though it had been inevitable.
I just couldn’t shake the irrational feeling I had been the one who had exposed them and was to blame for their untimely deaths. Without me they would be still alive, I lied to myself in spite of the circumstances. The remark by Darius that their pain hadn’t endured for long because they hadn’t known anything was some comfort. They died quickly and painless, Darius assured me. I think that summarised what the legion stood for; we did what needed to be done but ultimately were merciful.

Since Ebonheart was on the entire other end of Vvardenfell; Gnisis being north-west and Ebonheart south-west, I decided to visit the Urshilaku Ashlander tribe first.
There was no quick way of getting there, we would need to walk east from Gnisis along-side the shoreline untill we reached a Daedric shrine. From there it was only a short trek east-north-east to find the Urshilaku camp, the rich Ashlander in Ald’ruhn had told me weeks earlier.
I wished I had thought of that little fact before before leaving Balmora. All of our camping-gear was still in the Hlaalo manor in Balmora so it would be necessary to travel back and forth.

Zerina suggested buying new gear but no-one in Gnisis had these kind of special things for sale. It was only a small miner village with little to no shops.
We took the Stiltstrider to Ald’ruhn and bought teleportation service from the Mages Guild. We arrived in Balmora in the dead of night. Rather than immediately collecting our gear and traveling back to Gnisis, we decided to spend the night in our own comfortable bed.
After a hearty breakfast - the nightly exercise had left us both famished - we leisurely collected our gear, I donned my armour, checked bowstrings and set off to Gnisis and the Ashlander camp.



Day 253

Even though we were on a mission, the journey east was a joyful one. Much to Zerina’s delight, our path kept us close to water at all times, meaning every night after having set up camp she could wash her hair. Of course she insisted I’d clean up myself too. The water was most refreshing, if bitter cold but she didn’t seem to notice. I emerged shivering all over, didn’t waste any time to get dressed and huddled at the roaring campfire. Being nearby the water had another advantage; there were plenty of mudcrabs around I could make my “Rales special” out of. I selected a medium sized ones - the bigger ones tasted more leathery and more bitter than the smaller ones - and tied it down until it was ready to cook. I found out they taste best as fresh as possible, much like fish.

When I had told her about my specialty, Zerina was sceptical. ‘How can a filthy Mudcrab taste good when it spends most of his life wading through mud?’ she had wondered but her sceptisism had vanished as snow for the sun when I gave her a small part of the soft, pinkish meat. ‘You know,’ she had commented after having swallowed it. ‘it would taste even better with some herbs and some vegetables on the side.’
With a large stone I cracked the shell of the crab to get to the rest of the meat and divided it over our plates.

A purple and red hue accompanied the sun to its nightly slumber as the twin moons rose. With my arm around her shoulders and her arm wrapped around my waist we quietly sat on a flat rock and marvelled at the gorgeous sunset.
‘How easy would it be to leave everything behind, build a small hut and spend the rest of our lives in quiet solitude? Maybe raise some children?’ I contemplated. It was like Zerina had read my mind. She looked at me briefly and smiled. ‘Shall we just forget the world and remain here?’
I let out a chuckle. ‘I was just thinking the exact same thing. But we both know we can’t- well, I can’t,’ I said with my face showing no amusement anymore about that wry realisation.
She nodded and kissed me on my cheek. ‘I know dear,’ she sighed melancholically. ‘But it’s nice to think about it, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, yes it is,’ I mumbled.
‘Let’s go to bed, tomorrow is going to be a long day again,’ Zerina suggested, her eyes glowing.
‘But- but it’s still early.’ I countered, although I very well knew what she had meant.
‘So?’ she laughed.
I followed her into our tent with a boyish grin on my face.

***

‘Rales,’ Zerina elbowed me in the middle of the night, ‘there’s something skulking about, outside our tent.’
I lifted my head and reluctantly forced my sleep-ridden eyes to open. ‘A mudcrab?’
‘No, it’s bigger. I think it’s about Guar-sized.’
‘Make breakfast out of it then,’ I suggested while yawning, rubbed my eyes and put my head back on the pillow.’
‘I’m not dressed,’ she said with a small voice. The kind of voice I recognised she used to get me to do something. Not that I could ever refuse her anything.
‘Neither am I,’ I retorted. I could feel Zerina’s eyes almost piercing a hole in my back. I knew there was no escape out of it; I quickly put on my trousers, grabbed Wretched and set foot outside onto the cold, damp grass. Winter was making its entry, I shivered in the cold night air. Around our tent the grass had been flattened by what I made out to be two pairs of paw-tracks from two bi-pedal creatures, possibly Kagouti. I revived a smouldering branch from the camp-fire back to a flaming torch and checked out the tracks. Whatever it had been, it was obviously gone now. Two pairs of fresh paw tracks led south, away from our tent towards the inlands. Shrugging I returned to the tent and gratefully crouched back into the warm sleeping bag.
‘The critters were probably looking for the crab remains. Didn’t you bury them?’ I quietly asked Zerina but she was already fast asleep.
I gently brushed a lock of hair from her forehead and went back to sleep as well.

Although the nightmares were less intense than they had been before, they were never far off. Maybe it was because they had returned for the umpteenth time they didn’t scare me anymore or perhaps because I had taken a resolve to it, fortifying my mental state. After I got back to sleep, again Dagoth Ur haunted my dreams, trying to undermine my determination. I realised this was more than a dream, he was trying to pry a reflection of reality the way he saw it, into my mind and he tried to convince me of it being the absolute truth. In stead of being the victim, I used the dreams to learn about him. It was quite obvious he was delirious, tainted with corruption. His down-fall was a warning to me, absolute power absolutely corrupts. I vowed not to make the same mistake as he had. My resolve must have severed a crucial link between me and him; after that particular night the dreams didn’t return. Or he had given up but I thought that be to be rather unlikely.

[haute ecole rider]

Maro had gurgled some incoherent words just before drawing his last breath; ‘Dawn is breaking’.

"Greet the new day!" Okay, I couldn't resist, not after writing the Dagon Shrine scene!

I think that summarised what the legion stood for; we did what needed to be done but ultimately were merciful.

Good way to put military necessity. Sometimes the unpleasant job has to be done. Ugh.

After a hearty breakfast - the nightly exercise had left us both famished

I loved this very quiet and tasteful reference to a very private aspect of Rales's and Zerina's relationship. It made me smile!

When I had told her about my specialty, Zerina was sceptical. ‘How can a filthy Mudcrab taste good when it spends most of his life wading through mud?’ she had wondered but her sceptisism had vanished as snow for the sun when I gave her a small part of the soft, pinkish meat. ‘You know,’ she had commented after having swallowed it. ‘it would taste even better with some herbs and some vegetables on the side.’

I've only recently started cooking because I enjoy it, not because I have to. And it's amazing what flavors I can come up with!

‘Make breakfast out of it then,’ I suggested while yawning, rubbed my eyes and put my head back on the pillow.’
‘I’m not dressed,’ she said with a small voice. The kind of voice I recognised she used to get me to do something. Not that I could ever refuse her anything.
‘Neither am I,’ I retorted. I could feel Zerina’s eyes almost piercing a hole in my back. I knew there was no escape out of it; I quickly put on my trousers, grabbed Wretched and set foot outside onto the cold, damp grass.

Classic!

His down-fall was a warning to me, absolute power absolutely corrupts. I vowed not to make the same mistake as he had. My resolve must have severed a crucial link between me and him; after that particular night the dreams didn’t return.

Very interesting! Most people can't control their dreams (I can sometimes - I can make my dreams tell stories!). It also works to move the plotline forward in the story without being contrived.

[mALX]

I like it broken into days this way! It gives the feel of a journal!

[Olen]

Your inclusion of the 'Rales special' is great, it highlights how much he has changed since he arrived on morrowind. Great stuff, you also do a great job of showing his strength of character in refusing the execution order (an a variety of other ways). Makes me wonder how he'll get on with the Urshilaku.

‘Make breakfast out of it then,’

Good call. Still the idea of Kagouti prowling round your tent isn't a nice one.

[Remko]

Thanks you all for reading and commenting

Day 260

Several days later, we arrived at the Urshilaku camp. We had no idea what to expect but at least I had expected it to be bigger. About ten tents made from what looked like flexible wooden sticks, covered by Guar hides were congregated in a circle.
Some Ashlanders were speaking to one-another in a dialect Zerina nor I could understand. Hassour had told me the Ashlanders rejected the ways of the Great House Dunmer and were still true to saint Veloth’s teaching. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant but they looked at us suspiciously. I hadn’t forgotten Hassour’s words to bring thoughtful gifts. Along the way I had dug up several Trama roots and had taken several Kwama eggs to please the natives. Together with the gold I had brought I was sure I could get the information I needed.

‘What do you want, Outlander?’ the Ashlander I had hailed, asked me grumpily.
Being forthright seemed the right thing to do, I didn’t want to insult the tribesmen by lying. ‘My name is Rales Sarethi and I want to talk.’
‘So, talk Outlander.'
Hassour had told me about this aspect of Ashlanders. If an Ashlander said “talk” he meant the appropriate thing to do was to give them a thoughtful gift first. I dug up a Trama root from my bag and bowed from my waist ever so slightly, just enough to show respect.
‘Please, accept this little gift from a humble Outlander,’ I said.
‘A Trama root? I was feeling a bit hungry actually, thank you for this gift Rales Sarethi. You show respect for our customs, that is good. My name is Hainab, what can I do for you?’ His mood had cleared up considerably.
‘I would like to see your wise-woman,’ I replied.
Hainab shook his head. ‘No-one is allowed to speak to our wise-woman before our Ashkhan, Sul-Matuul, grants permission. You will need to ask his Gulukhan Zabamund first though. His yurt is next to the Ashkhan’s,’ he said and pointed at the two biggest tents.
I thanked Hainab and headed off to Zabamund’s yurt.

***

‘State your purpose, or leave Outlander,’ the man I presumed to be Zabamund, ordered me.
‘Honourable Gulukhan, I would like to speak to you,’ I said and offered him a thoughtful gift.
‘You do me honour. I’m not too proud to accept a gift. I prefer, what you call a…. euhm…’, he thought a moment finding the correct word. ‘….a bribe, yes?’, he said and took the gold I handed him. ‘Talk Outlander. Speak with respect and I will listen.’
‘I am here to talk to your wise-woman and your Ashkhan about the Nerevarine prophecies.’ With this, I drew Zabamund’s undivided attention, he had been intermittently sizing up Zerina and meanwhile licking his lips. ‘What do the prophecies mean to you?’ he asked me.
I sighed deeply, both in annoyance of his rude behaviour towards Zerina - I wondered if he realised she wasn’t my slave - but also because of the heavy burden the words were, I was about to speak. ‘I believe I fulfill the prophecies and would like to learn more.’

His eyes spread wide in disbelief. ‘The Nerevarine prophecies are not for Outlanders. Who are you that we should trust you? Why should I even allow you to talk to our wise-woman and our esteemed Ashkhan?’ he scornfully asked me.
I told him my name and everything I had learned and had experienced the last few months.
‘That is very concerning news and not to be taken lightly. I’ll admit, you know more than I thought you would. I'm sure Sul Matuul needs to hear this as some of it was unknown to us. Very well, follow me. I’ll introduce you to our Ashkhan, Sul Matuul. He will not appreciate being disturbed, but I’ll take that chance. Follow me Rales Sarethi. She,’ he gestured with his head to Zerina, ‘must stay outside.’ Halfway in his yurt, he suddenly stopped. ‘One more thing; do not speak until spoken to when we are in the Ashkhan’s yurt. Understood?’

‘Zabamund, what is that…. that Outlander doing in my yurt? Explain yourself!’
‘Khan, this Outlander claims to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies and would speak to you and to Nibani,’ he replied while bowing to his chieftain.
‘Then speak Outlander. If Zabamund thinks it is important enough to disturb me, I will listen to what you have to say.’
I bowed deeply to the Ashkhan like Zabamund had and again I told everything that happened the last few months. The dreams Dagoth Ur had tormented me with, the attack on me in my house, I even informed him about the Moon-and-Star tale from my youth Athyn had told me. The Ashkhan seemed impressed with my knowledge but was still doubtful about my intentions.

‘Let me see if I get this straight. You, an Outlander,’ he emphasised the word “outlander”, ’think you fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies. You wish to be tested to see if you truly are the Nerevarine. However; no outlander may join the Nerevarine cult. Perhaps if you were a Clanfriend - an adopted member of the Ashlander tribes. I have an initiation rite in mind. If you pass this rite, I will adopt you as a Clanfriend of the Ashlanders. Only then then will I submit you to Nibani, our wise woman, to test you. Do you accept this trial?’

It seemed I had little choice but to accept Sul Matuul’s challenge. It was either that or go home. ‘Alright,’ I said while nodding slowly. ‘I will accept your trial. Tell me what I have to do and it will be done.’
‘I like your determination Outlander. To be accepted as a Clanfriend I need you to retrieve a weapon from our sacred burial chambers. Defeat the wraith of Sul Senipul - my father - and bring back his bow. Do this and I will accept you into our tribe as a Clanfriend. The Urshilaku burial ground is half a day’s walk south-east of our camp. I will give you a little advice. Go well prepared, many dangers lurk in the dark cravesses of the tomb.’
The Ashkhan made it very clear the conversation was over and that I was to leave his yurt. I wasted no time to get back outside. I wondered how the Ashlanders could stand the smell in their yurt. A mix of old leather, the smoky smell of the cookingfire and a scent I didn’t recognise, probably from some herbs the Ashlanders smoke, in the yurt made breathing hardly bearable.

‘He wants you to destroy his father’s wraith and take the bow back to the camp?’ Zerina exasperated after I told her what happened in the Ashkhan’s yurt. ‘They are an odd bunch aren’t they? Did you see how Zabamund was licking his lips? To be honest, I found them rather rude,’ she commented while slowly shaking her head.
I shrugged. ‘I suppose he thought you were my slave. Don’t forget, the Ashlanders are accustomed to having slaves. Besides that, they’re a secluded people with little to no interaction with others outside their tribe.’
‘I know,’ Zerina replied. ‘But I still think he was rather rude.’
‘Give them time, dear. I am quite sure when we come back they won’t be as rude to a Clanfriend and his companion.’
‘I guess,’ she said but it was clear she was still sceptical.

This post has been edited by Remko: May 3 2010, 04:42 PM

[mALX]

I was thinking cannibalism or inbreeding, but I have never played the game, ROFL !! Great Write Remko!

[haute ecole rider]

Actually, based on what I've read about the Ashlanders, they strike me as being very similar to the nomadic steppe tribes found in southern Siberia and Mongolia. Hail, Genghis Khan!

One nit:

With this, I drew Zabamund’s undivided attention, he had been intermittedly sizing up Zerina and meanwhile licking his lips.

I think you meant to spell it intermittently.

I'm finding the different interpretations of the Ashlanders very fascinating! Much like the different historical interpretations of the steppe tribes (from ancient Greeks through the Romans to the Chinese and nineteenth century explorers).

I enjoyed reading this installment again!

[SubRosa]

Time for Rales to go play in the Ashlander tomb!

Another fun installment. The way that Rales had to speak to one person in order to speak to another person in order to speak to another person and do something for him so he can speak to another person later reminds me of a bureaucracy. All the more so since he had to bribe everyone as he worked his way through the chain!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 3 2010, 05:18 PM

[Remko]

Sul Matuul’s directions proved vital in finding the Urshilaku burial grounds. The entire region was dotted by sharp rocks and rolling green hills stretched as far as the eye could see. The tomb’s entry was entirely obscured by rockfaces and only a small path led to it, a path we had almost overlooked. I imagined it would be possible to wander around in circles for days without even noticing, everything looked the same.
The sun had set when we arrived at the entrance of the burial grounds. After having walked most of the day, we decided to make camp for the night and enter the tomb after a well-deserved rest. I put up the tent while Zerina went hunting. She proudly returned with a small Guar, dragging it by its legs.
Together we cut it in usable pieces and cooked it above a camp-fire. After dinner I buried the un-usable remains of it a little distance away from our tent so we wouldn’t be disturbed by scavengers during the night.

The moment we opened the door to the tomb, I could clearly see this one was very different from the Great House Ancestral tombs I had crawled through. First of all; it was huge. Far bigger than any tomb I’ve seen before. The second thing that was different was that it was guarded by lots and lots of skeletal remains wielding silver two-handed swords. I had faced skeletons before but those weren’t as formidable as the ones here. I ducked underneath the first swing - thanking the gods I was only wearing light armour, otherwise I would have been too slow - and brought Wretched up in a vertical movement, through its jaw and into the skeleton’s skull. As I tore Wretched back, the skull remained stuck on the tip of my sword. If it hadn’t been for two more skeletons approaching menacingly, I probably would have been amused.

‘Zerina!’ I bellowed commandingly. ‘Disappear!’ The heat of battle had taken over. Tact was positioned in a spot in the back of my mind and replaced by pragmatism. She didn’t question me for a moment. I heard her mumble the spell I taught her to focus a caster’s willpower into a magically charged artifact to activate it. When she moved, I could just make out her outlines but as soon as she stopped, those outlines faded and she blended into the surrounding entirely, rendering her practically invisible. No wonder the Emperor had named it the Ring of Surroundings.

‘What are these things?’ Zerina muttered just before I engaged the second skeleton, hoping the third one wasn’t clever enough to attack me in the back but then realised I had someone covering the rear - something I wasn’t used to.
Holding my sword with both hands I just managed to block the overhead chop from the second guardian. For things that had no muscles or tissue they were incredibly powerful, the block sent a painful tremble through my arms, shoulders and back. I spun to the left, away from the blade to the skeleton’s flank, sank on one knee and slashed at its legs, severing them just above the knees.

***

‘Blast the other one!’ I barked and turned away from the legless skeleton, assuming I was done with it. Suddenly a burning sensation in my right leg made me howl in agony. Even with the most of its legs missing, the skeleton attacked me and had managed to swipe his blade across the calf of my leg, cutting deep into it.
Angered, I stamped my boot onto the silver claymore and used the pommel of my blade to bash in its skull. After four rapid blows it shattered and the skeletal remains went limp. I remember grimacing in wicked amusement and hobbling over to the battle between Zerina and the third Skeletal Guardian as fast as I could. I had to clench my teeth with each step to refrain me from screaming.
By the time I had closed the gap between the third skeleton and Zerina, she had disintegrated the animated corpse, its bones scattered in a six foot radius.

‘You okay?’ I asked her. ‘You did better than I did, that S'wit almost cut off my leg,’ I cursed exaggeratedly.
Blood was pouring from the wound into my boot, forming a small puddle that sloshed every time I took a painful step.
‘I’m fine. We’ll have to domething about that leg of yours unless you prefer Black Rot,’ Zerina commented. ‘Take off your boot and greaves.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ I winked and stripped. The trousers I was wearing were soaked with blood and were already starting to crust up into the wound.
‘Dagger,’ she demanded while holding out her hand. With the dagger I gave her she cut away the trousers around the wound. ‘This is going to hurt,’ she said matter-of-factly and ripped the piece of cloth from the wound in a single motion. She wasn’t kidding, that really hurt. Immediately she tended to the open gash that was now pouring out bucketloads of blood, I could feel it draining away and severely weakening me with every passing second.

Her hands glowed up and a warm, soothing tingle spread through my leg. Soon after, the gaping wound was reduced to a thin, white line on my leg and the pain dissipated. As I rose to my feet, my head spun and I instantly collapsed into a heap on the cold ground. I realised the bloodloss had weakened me more than I had thought. Several hours passed before I was able to stand up and stay upright but I was in no real condition to fight anything. Obviously, I didn’t plan on returning to the Urshilaku empty-handed, I had come this far, I wasn’t going to give up now.
I dug up some food - An orcish legionnaire had taught me eating red meat helps the body replenish its blood - handed Zerina an apple and thoughtfully chewed on a chunk of the Guar we had left from dinner the night before.

This post has been edited by Remko: May 10 2010, 11:09 AM

[haute ecole rider]

‘Blast the other one!’ I barked and turned away from the legless skeleton, assuming I was done with it. Suddenly a burning sensation in my right leg made me howl in agony. Even with the most of its legs missing, the skeleton attacked me and had managed to swipe his blade across the calf of my leg, cutting deep into it.

They ain't dead until they're good and dead! It's obvious Rales hasn't watched enough slasher flicks to know that fundamental rule! Ow, ow, ow!

The healing process later in the chapter reads much better this time around.

Again, I enjoyed reading this story a second time. I'm noticing new things this time around that I didn't notice the first time, which to me is the mark of a good story. Definitely well worth reading twice!

[SubRosa]

H.e.r. is right, this reads much more smoothly than the first time. The battle with the second skeleton most especially so.

I winced with Rales when Zerina pulled the pant leg out of his wound! Youch! Well done there too!