Sleeper in the Cave, a Morrowind fanfic Options

[Grits]

"Why, of course!" The man had the gall to sound surprised. "Forgive me - I nearly forgot, you see."

Nice. Only a Nord.

At this point he paused, as if struck by a sudden thought.

Your Naked Nord is so amusing, his legendary nakedness becomes secondary. Drat those witches!

I adore Adryn and Varvur together. The image of them both standing there with their eyes closed hissing at each other is just priceless!

[Kazaera]

@haute ecole rider - re: the witch in question... we'll see! I am glad you can appreciate the sight of a naked Nord; I'm afraid Hlormar's in-game audience is less than receptive to the sight of his... *coughs*.

@Black Hand - let's face it, the instant I remembered the naked Nord quests when planning Adryn I realised this had to happen. The scene basically writes itself! Glad you like my take on the classic Morrowind running joke.

@Captain Hammer - Adryn got somewhat turned off Kynareth worship thanks to partially growing up in an orphanage attached to her temple, but I think this is an exception where she might find herself inclined to thanks. Although she'd still have preferred no trees at all. /o\ She would also like to point out that it wasn't as if she was expecting this to happen, or else she'd have prepared better.

I'm glad you like what I've done with Varvur! I realised that doing the quest this way gives me the chance to make him more of an active character as opposed to the, well, lump you have to drag around in-game. Also, your comment about Dunmer reactions to naked Nords had me rolling!

@Grits - I am glad my Nord has met with approval from the creator of Jerric! I'm also glad you're enjoying Adryn and Varvur together - I'm finding they bounce really well off each other and are fun to write in a scene, so!

Last installment, Varvur Sarethi and Adryn had an encounter with a Naked Nord. (Yes, the capitalisation is necessary.) He told them about a cowardly witch who'd used magic to rob him of his treasued family heirloom... oh, right, and all his clothes too... and asked them for help. Adryn was about to refuse, but it looked as if Varvur had something to say. Now, we see how that's turned out.

Chapter 8.6
*****

"Explain to me again," I said, glaring at Varvur, "exactly why we're doing this?"

"It's a matter of honour," was his rather unhelpful response.

Oh, wonderful. And I'd been hoping he was at least somewhat sensible. Maybe the sight of a naked or almost-naked Nord had similarly negative effects on the unprepared mind as helmets in all their varieties? (It would explain a great deal about Skyrim culture...). If so, I was luckily immune; even the sight of a loinclothed Nord walking some distance in front of me hadn't made me any more inclined towards getting violently involved in the business of strangers on account of 'honour'.

"Honour? We're stuck Hermaeus-Mora-knows-where with hardly more than the clothes on our back - less than that for some of us, in fact - it's going to be getting dark soon and we have no shelter in sight, my thrice-damned arm is broken, you just signed us up to go hunting a witch with our bare hands and a bare Nord and you're talking about honour?"

Varvur flushed. "I forgot about your arm."

"Lovely. How nice for you. I didn't." As a matter of fact my arm was throbbing, I imagined in protest at this entire absurd plan of action.

For the several dozenth time, I considered leaving the two fools to it and looking for civilisation on my own. Just as before, I decided that I was doomed and at least the witch would hopefully kill me quickly.

"Maybe if you just... stay back..." Varvur's voice trailed off.

"Brilliant idea, that. I'm certain you'll easily subdue her with your amazing unarmed prowess before she has the chance to turn us all into dust with lightning bolts. Or maybe you could just shock her into submission by asking Hlormar to whip off his loincloth again. Since you're bosom buddies now and all."

Varvur's shoulders fell. He looked so pathetically dejected that I might, possibly, have felt sorry for him if he hadn't been marching us towards certain mage-induced death. "Adryn, I asked him earlier and - we're north of Caldera. That's Redoran country, it's not so far from Ald'ruhn. I have a duty to the people here, you know? If there's some witch going around stealing people's- people's belongings-"

"You can say 'clothes'," I threw in. "It won't kill you."

"-well, I have to do something about that. Just letting her go on would be cowardly. Any Redoran would agree."

I had to give a moment of silent thanks that I wasn't a Redoran, because not going to attack a mage while unarmed and half-naked seemed to me to belong more in the realm of possessing a brain.

And speaking of possessing brains...

"Look, doesn't this seem a little... dubious to you?" I asked.

Varvur looked at me incomprehendingly. "Going to rid the countryside of a dangerous, magic-using bandit?"

I sighed. Sometimes you get tired of being the only person in your surroundings with the slightest drop of sense. "What I'm saying is, we've only got Hlormar's word for it that that's what happened. Does he honestly strike you as the kind of person whose word you ought to take without any further questions?"

We looked at Hlormar.

As if on cue, we heard a bellow of "Cursed witch! This is what I will do to your head when I catch you!" from up ahead, followed by a loud thunk and a groan of pain. "...I did not think the tree trunk would be quite so hard..."

"Point taken," Varvur said, then blinked. "Wait a moment, are you defending the witch where just a moment ago you were talking about how she'd certainly kill us?"

I gritted my teeth. "Unlike what sometimes feels like the majority of the population, I am capable of keeping several possibilities in my head at the same time. If the witch is dangerous, we're dead, so why on Nirn are we going along with this? If the witch isn't dangerous, Hlormar was lying to us and there's no reason to hurt her but he'll probably kill us if we side with her, so why on Nirn are we going along with this? The inescapable conclusion, you might realise at this point-"

"Of course, I hadn't thought of that." I perked up in hope, hope which was mercilessly crushed with Varvur's next sentence. (Brute.) "If the witch isn't dangerous, honour demands that we follow Hlormar to keep him from harming her."

I stared at him. "Excuse me. Are we actually speaking the same language? Because I say things, then you say things, but the logical connection between the two seems to have gone for a holida-"

"Oh, hello!" A feminine voice echoed from my left.

I turned my head to stare at the (supposedly) dreadfully dangerous witch we'd been hunting and had apparently managed to walk straight past.

I had to admit she didn't look very dangerous. She was an Imperial or Breton - her pale skin and dark brown hair meant she must be one of the two, but which was hard to tell from the distance - and I guessed her to be around thirty years old. She was wearing simple robes with patches and stains that were visible even from here and was just straightening from a crouch in front of a bush some distance from the path, holding a small knife in one hand and a bundle of leaves in the other. Now, appearances and the kinship for a fellow alchemist can be deceiving , so she obviously could still be lethal and about to kill us all... but I had to doubt it. The way she grinned at us and waved as she approached made me doubt it even more (along with her sense).

"I haven't seen anyone around for hours! My name is Sosia, I'm a healer trying to get to Ald'ruhn- are you sure you want to be running around half-naked like that?" That was directed at the shirtless Varvur. "You might catch something! Folvys at the Temple says that chills lower your resistance to diseases and- oh! Your arm!" She'd noticed my makeshift splint.

The next few seconds confirmed my earlier assertions that if the witch we were looking for was in any way dangerous we were dead, because both of us were too busy staring like stunned trout trying to keep up with the babble to stop Sosia as she marched into my personal space and splayed her fingers in a spell. Thankfully for both of us, she also confirmed my suspicions that she wasn't actually hostile in the slightest, as any dangerous witch who starts her fiendish attacks by healing her enemies is clearly too incompetent to deserve the title.

"Mara, thank you," I moaned as a blessed coolness settled over my arm and the everpresent stabbing pain died away.

"Now, there's only so much I can do right now, so make sure to keep that arm in a sling for a while longer," Sosia admonished. "Breaks heal best when you use small spells several times a day - I'd say morning, noon and evening for at least three days for that break. Trying to heal it all at once with a major spell can result in weaknesses in the bone that lead to quicker and worse fractures later on, so it's best avoided."

I blinked at the stream of information, but one thing jumped out at me. "Will potions do as well for the frequent healing?"

Sosia frowned. "In a pinch, I guess, but it's really best to use spells. They can be localized more easily, and-"

"WITCH!"

Apparently Hlormar had noticed Sosia, who squeaked at the sight of an enraged Nord in a red velvet loincloth storming towards her. I groaned. I'd hoped he'd just continue charging ahead ignoring everything behind him until he safely was out of sight.

"Foul deceiver and filthy thief! I shall crush your skull like a-"

"Wait, stop, I mean, can't we talk about this?" Sosia was backing away rapidly.

"I will not negotiate with evil witches!" Hlormar bellowed from a by now uncomfortably close distance. I pondered whether he was trying to burst our eardrums in lieu of proper weaponry.

"Stop this madness!" If he was, Varvur had decided to join him in it. "This woman is clearly not deserving of death, fiend, and if you continue to try to murder her I will stand against you!" He acted on his suicidally-chivalrous speech, one I suspected he'd stolen from a play, by stepping in front of Sosia and me - straight into Hlormar's path.

Hlormar stopped in apparent confusion for a moment, during which I hoped that this turn of events was too much for his walnut-sized brain to cope with and he'd freeze in confusion. Alas, he started moving forward again. "Traitor! I'll crush you with her!"

I shifted nervously from foot to foot as Hlormar squared off with Varvur. True, the way Varvur moved and the way he effortlessly dodged Hlormar's first punch spoke of a trained warrior, but he still looked like a starved child in front of Hlormar's broad frame. If one hit connected, he'd be finished. I was worried I was about to see murder done - in particular, Varvur's, then Sosia's, and finally my own, and with all due respect to altruism that last was one I particularly wanted to prevent - but there was nothing I could do.

Wait.

There was something I could do.

After all, it had been several days now since my encounter with the kagouti, and a certain core of power I'd exhausted then was once again burning brightly within me.

I almost groaned out loud. Falling unconscious is not my idea of a good time, and neither is the fatigue clinging to you afterwards. Well, let no one say I wasn't willing to sacrifice myself for the safety of all.

Varvur and Hlormar were circling now, eyes fixed on each other. Neither of them was paying me the slightest bit of attention. I should probably feel insulted at having been so thoroughly discounted as a threat, but had to admit they'd usually be right in their estimation. Besides, it made it laughably easy to make my way behind Hlormar without him noticing and breaking my neck (I feel the need to point out that I was willing to sacrifice myself in a figurative sense only!)

I focused and tapped Hlormar on the shoulder. He froze obligingly.

Then everything went black.

*****

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Sep 7 2013, 12:30 PM

[Black Hand]

...followed by a loud thunk and a groan of pain. "...I did not think the tree trunk would be quite so hard..."

I love deadpan humor.

Agent Cho on the Mentalist questioning a high-profile suspect with political power:

Suspect: "I could have your job with one phone call!"

Agent Cho: "That's impressive. All I can get with one phone call is a large pizza in under thirty minutes."

Apparently Hlormar had noticed Sosia, who squeaked at the sight of an enraged Nord in a red velvet loincloth storming towards her.

I think we all would!

Lol, as usual great writing and update here, Kazaera!

[Grits]

I just love the healer’s advice about mending the broken arm. Love it!

Just as before, I decided that I was doomed and at least the witch would hopefully kill me quickly.

My favorite line in a very funny update.

[haute ecole rider]

Oh my Gods! What a hilarious scene you have painted here.

First, your comment about

cowardly witch who'd used magic to rob him of his treasued family heirloom

in this context gets me thinking about - umm - family jewels, which is perfectly indicative of the sort of mind I have. From here my reading of this hilarious segment just gets worse --

Then Varvur says

If there's some witch going around stealing people's- people's belongings-"

Yes, Varvur, you can say family jewels! Perfectly acceptable in this forum, of course.

Then we meet the supposedly evil witch, who is

holding a small knife in one hand

and I'm thinking and family jewels in the other but no - it's

a bundle of leaves in the other

Leaves? Leaves??

Then we have Adryn narrating yet more in her endearing wry style:

Hlormar stopped in apparent confusion for a moment, during which I hoped that this turn of events was too much for his walnut-sized brain to cope with and he'd freeze in confusion

May I point out that most of Hlormar's IQ seems to rest in those family jewels, and that the witch has stolen it them?

I warned you that's how my mind goes! Honestly, Kaz, Adryn does not require any help from me at all to make this hilariously funny!

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Sep 1 2013, 05:23 AM

[Captain Hammer]

See, Kaz, you write things, then I read those things, and it's like I get a little extra joy in my week, especially when there's a holida...

*Dirty Rider's comments are subsequently read.*

Anyways, where was I? Oh, yes, Adryn and Varvur are conversing and yet clearly not communicating, and then this woman shows up that knows the secret sporadic-writers'-forum-handshake...I mean, the obvious "Look, I'm just an alchemist and medicinal healer"-handshake and sets about doing some actual healing.

Reports of Demise-by-Lightning have been greatly exaggerated.

Those little touches of healing magic's more esoteric applications (I'll have to remember it, Awtwyr's always been complaining about that ankle since I pointed out that taking a shortcut on the way out of a totally-unknown-mushroom-tower-definitively-not-located-in-a-town-with-no-men located on some island that doesn't require mention might be a good idea when said tower's occupants may have realized his presence) and how to heal structural injuries so they don't cause long-term issues is a really nice touch.

Also, wait, did the Nord just try to charge the alleged-Witch, only for our noble Varvur to stand up nobly and try to take him on with some unarmed combat? I swear, if the lad gets too much more sense into him he just might turn into one of those frightful things called protagonists.

Oh, and Adryn's decided to use her power again. Good thing there's a Witch nearby, as that should be enough to prevent the blackou...

Nope. Still not enough. Adryn, my dear, it's called "Endurance" and "Willpower". Those attributes will save your life. And your Stamina, which based on your experience almost makes them one in the same. At the very least, you'll have more of your dignity left.

*Dirty Rider's comments are finally processed.*

I need a drink. Probably a pint of Scumble, to start.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Sep 1 2013, 06:03 PM

[Kazaera]

@Black Hand - thanks! I admit I'd probably react much like Sosia myself. No one expects the angry Nord berserkers in velvet loincloths...

@Grits - am glad you like the comments on healing! I wanted magical healing to be more complicated than just whooshing sound effects and sparkles and your health bar is full, and I thought things like too-quick healing leading to structural weakness would make sense.

@haute ecole rider - okay, I am dead. You have slain me. My undead corpse is writing this update. The murder investigation squad will be at your door any minute now.

I mean, I thought my mind was in the gutter sometimes, but clearly I have a long distance left to go. I bow before your mastery. Also, thank you for making sure I will never be able to read that update again without ending up on the floor with laughter! I appreciate your generosity and sharing spirit!

@Captain Hammer - thank you! Re: Varvur, he is being quite protagonist-y, isn't he? A side-effect of the way I'm writing Adryn is that other characters often need to step up to take over the classic Morrowind protagonist duties (like facing down angry Nords), which I didn't think of at the start but I quite like now because it lets NPCs be more active. I mean, hey, Varvur *is* the only combat trained character apart from Hlormar. And... yeeaah, Adryn's Endurance is abysmal. *g* We are going to have to wait quite a while until she can take Damage Fatigue 200pts on Self and still be conscious at the end.

Last installment, Adryn and Varvur went hunting for dangerous witches with the no-longer-entirely-naked Hlormar and found one distinctly harmless-looking healer. Hlormar did not take their abandoning his plan for vengeance well and ended up attacking them. Adryn interrupted his stand-off with Varvur by using Lover's Kiss to paralyze him... and then immediately collapse unconscious.

*****
Chapter 8.7

"I could have taken him," was the first thing I heard when I woke.

"Varvur, leave her be." Another voice, this. A woman's. "Are you awake now? This is the first time I've ever seen the Mooncalf's Collapse - my teacher, he said it was basically a severe case of magicka-induced exhaustion, but it's not as if you see many of those either and I'm not sure the energising spell I used was strong enough- er, can you hear me?"

I tried to say 'yes, unfortunately', but the only thing that came out of my throat was a groan. Apparently my vocal cords were on tea break. I didn't bother trying to open my eyes. Something about the way each eyelid felt like a Nord was sitting on it made me doubt any attempt would be successful.

I was lying on the ground, I noted fuzzily. Ground. A truly wonderful thing to be lying on - today was giving me a whole new appreciation for it. After our earlier separation, I thought it would be positively ungrateful of me to reduce this joyful reunion in any way. By, for instance, attempting to sit up.

"I'll take that as a 'not strong enough' on the energising spell," the voice said. "Just a moment."

Magicka washed over me in a refreshing flood.

I cracked open one eyelid. Two faces stared down at me. Varvur's face was set in a scowl, while Sosia was beaming. I wasn't entirely certain which I found more threatening.

"Any better?"

"Much." My vocal cords had apparently been spurred back to work by the spell, although judging by the creakiness of my voice there had been a fair bit of grumbling involved.

I grabbed the hand Sosia held down to me with my uninjured arm and used it to gingerly lever myself upright, silently promising the ground that we would be meeting again, at length, as soon as I could manage it. I did have to admit I might renege on that promise if someone offered me a bed.

A quick glance around showed that we seemed to have lost one angry Nord - something I wasn't planning to shed any tears over - and gained one large battleaxe that glimmered with enchantment. Varvur had it tucked into his belt, and the scowl on his face looked just as deep from a vertical position.

"I could have taken him!" he repeated.

"Eh?" My brain was still getting back up to speed.

"The Nord. He had no training in hand-to-hand at all, he was used to winning by being bigger than everyone else. He was slow, obvious, and really wasn't paying attention to his footwork. I was about to-"

I blinked as he continued. I wasn't sure if the things Varvur was saying were actually Tamrielic; I'd certainly never heard of things like an 'outer leg reap' or 'Baranat's wheel' before.

Eventually, Varvur noticed Sosia and me staring blankly and cut off his speech mid-sentence. His scowl deepened. I considered telling him that his face might stick like that, but decided it was unlikely to improve the situation. "I had him! You didn't need to interfere!"

Wait a minute. I couldn't possibly be understanding this correctly.

"You're angry with me for saving all our lives?" I asked blankly.

Judging by his expression, I'd just poured oil on the fire. "I'm not angry with you for saving your lives - our lives were never in danger, because I had him! I'm furious with some, some coward who interferes in an honourable duel, using magic, from behind-"

That-

I-

I'd had a really terrible day, and a not insignificant portion of that could be laid directly at this fool's feet, and now he-

All right. That was it.

"Honour? You mean I should have just sat there and waited to see which one of you won in order to satisfy your honour? No thank you. I happen to have this strange thing called 'sense', you see, and I find that vastly preferable to being a muscle-bound idiot with lichen growing where their brain should be who thinks they can solve all their problems by punching them - oh, I'm sorry, to being honourable." I tried to pile as much disdain into that last word as I could so Varvur would catch it, seeing as thinking obviously wasn't one of his strong points.

Varvur swelled in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a bullfrog - I wondered if there was some relation. His mouth opened and shut, but the only sound he made was a strange, wordless croaking noise (more evidence for a possible amphibian heritage!) By his side, his hands clenched into fists, lifted-

"What, now you want to attack me?" I asked, incredulous. A tiny voice in the back of my mind mentioned that this was where I should probably back down. It was smothered by rage. "All that spouting off about honour, and now you're going to hit a girl who's unarmed, untrained, recovering from severe exhaustion, and has a broken arm? What are you planning to do next, beat up a nine-year-old?"

Varvur lowered his fists, face going an unhealthy-looking shade of purple. The spotted violet Glenumbran marsh toad, perhaps? "Well- well-" he sputtered, "well, if you hadn't bungled that Intervention spell we wouldn't even be in this situation!"

I could hardly believe my ears. "Are you actually complaining? You? The kidnap victim? Please note that however we got here, you are now outside," I gestured at our surroundings, "on the ground, no longer in chains, free to go where you like. If it weren't for me you'd still be in that cell! If anything you should be thanking me on bended-"

"Er, excuse me? Varvur? Adryn?"

I realised with a twinge of guilt that I'd completely forgotten about Sosia. Judging by Varvur's expression, so had he.

"I'm sure you're both enjoying yourselves, but shouldn't we start moving before it gets dark? You can keep arguing once we're walking," she added, in the same tone I suspected she might promise a child some sweets.

Varvur and I glared at each other.

"Fine," we chorused.

*****

Contrary to Sosia's expectations, Varvur and I didn't continue arguing once we were on the road. Instead, the silence between us was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, and I wouldn't have been at all surprised to see a miniature thundercloud pop into existence over one of our heads.

I suspected he was waiting for me to apologise for impugning his honour or something similarly ridiculous. Well, fine. I'd apologise to him right after he apologised to me for being an ungrateful lichen-brained thug with the manners of a donkey. And not just any donkey - a donkey who'd been brought up by wolves (or the donkey equivalent), one who made all the civilised donkeys bray in horror at his lack of manners. As this would most likely be a long wait, I talked to Sosia instead.

Apparently Varvur had struck some sort of deal with Hlormar after I had heroically sacrificed myself to incapitate him. By 'struck', of course, I mean 'told him how it was going to be without letting him get a word in edgewise', because Nine forbid Varvur attempt diplomacy - that would require listening to other people, we couldn't have that. And by 'deal', I mean some sort of absurd arrangement that only someone who'd through some bizarre twist of fate managed to get himself addicted to intelligence-draining potions- ahem, I mean a truly honourable person could have thought of. According to Sosia, it involved Varvur taking Cloudcleaver, then meeting Hlormar in Ald'ruhn in a week or so to see whether he'd 'changed his ways' and 'deserved' to have his family heirloom of sharp-edged death to witches returned (where witch meant woman who refused to share his bedroll, according to Sosia's version of that story). This instead of just knocking the man unconscious and stealing the cursed axe already like anyone in possession of even the tiniest amount of sense would do.

Furthermore, it seemed that while I was recovering from my heroic sacrifice, Varvur and Sosia had decided that it would be safest to stick together until we got back to Ald'ruhn. They then got carried away with their newfound power and also agreed that instead of making for Ald'ruhn and arriving in the middle of the night we should make for a nearby farmhouse down in the valley and ask for shelter. I, apparently, was an item on roughly the same level as Cloudcleaver or my books who did not need to be consulted. Why bother asking all of the people you're travelling with what they think, after all.

It was at around this point in time that Sosia's conversation deteriorated remarkably due to her having fits of giggles every time I spoke. I decided to leave her with Varvur as punishment and sped up my pace. I wanted to indulge in my sulk (I'd realised it was a sulk, but at this point I figured I'd earned one) with no mocking bystanders.

As a result, I was well ahead of the other two when I encountered the next Nord.

*****

Notes: One of the hilarious things about writing this chapter was that up until I reached this point, I thought Varvur and Adryn would get along. This is actually kind of puzzling, because if you look back you'll notice they have been bickering at pretty much every conceivable opportunity, including in midair. But nevertheless, I was writing along expecting them to be friends. I opted to have Adryn take care of Hlormar mainly so I could skip over the details of what happened to him due to her being unconscious... but suddenly Varvur got offended. And then ADRYN got offended. And then they were at each other's throats while I was going "guys? ...guys? ...wait, how did I manage to not realise that they hate each other."

On the plus side, the upcoming chapters are a lot more... colourful than I'd planned them originally!

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Sep 14 2013, 07:37 PM

[Grits]

I cracked open one eyelid. Two faces stared down at me. Varvur's face was set in a scowl, while Sosia was beaming. I wasn't entirely certain which I found more threatening.

How perfectly Adryn. Someone coming at her with a hug might be almost as bad as someone with a knife.

They then got carried away with their newfound power…

And now she’s between another Nord and her disagreeable companions. Right where she put herself.

[haute ecole rider]

This is waaaay better than the concerned guy hovering over the girl who *sacrificed* herself for his sake! I loved the bickering in the earlier installments, but this is ratcheting things up to a whole new level! If you wanted to make this a romantic comedy between Adryn and Varvur, you are well-established on that point. Even the best rom-coms don't come close to this! And not to worry, even if they don't develop romantic feelings for each other, this is enough like sibling rivalry for those of us who have siblings to enjoy reading the progression of their relationship (what relationship?? oh, yeah, that relationship!).

As for:

And then they were at each other's throats while I was going "guys? ...guys? ...wait, how did I manage to not realise that they hate each other."

this has happened often enough to me to give you an (unsolicited) iota of advice: when this happens, roll with it! Typically when characters decide to dictate their own story, the results are just waaaaay better! It's a good sign that you are experiencing this, because it strongly suggests to me that you are on to something really good . . .

This.

Varvur lowered his fists, face going an unhealthy-looking shade of purple. The spotted violet Glenumbran marsh toad, perhaps?

This is what I love about writing Dunmer characters. They are so colorful, in more ways than one!

"Fine," we chorused.

As anyone who has read Trey's Blood on the Moon will attest, this single word, especially when italicized, lends itself well to a hearty drinking song! As a matter of fact, now I have a hankering for some mead!

And you're welcome for my comments on the previous installment! I will admit that I am, however, no master at the double innuendo - that honor belongs to Dee Foxy. However, my veterinary training remains very strong, and it erupted (??) in full force when I was reading that installment!

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Sep 7 2013, 06:19 PM

[Kazaera]

@Grits - Someone coming at her with a hug might be almost as bad as someone with a knife - why, you know Adryn so well!

@haute - no romantic comedy here, but they are definitely approaching sibling-esque bickering (yep, I have a brother, I can appreciate what that means ). And I do love the moments when the characters just totally take over from what you had planned... especially because in this case the plot I'd worked out still worked fine, it just became a *lot* more interesting along the way. Don't worry, I'm inclined to give them free rein when they're sure on where they want to go - it generally works out far better than if I try to force them in a particular direction.

And I may also have thought of Blood on the Moon when the dreaded italicized Fine appeared, but it was so utterly perfect for that situation...

Last installment, Adryn woke up from her birthsign-induced unconsciousness to discover that Varvur was not particularly happy to have had his life saved by - er, to have been rudely interrupted during an honourable fight he was definitely going to win by a magic-using girl. After some argument, they (along with Sosia) set out for a nearby farmhouse to ask for shelter for the night. On the way, Adryn encountered another Nord. Now... who could this be?

Chapter 8.8
*****

If you have ever been in King Thian's art collection (for instance, by passing through on an errand that had nothing whatsoever to do with the custom-designed magelights bracketed in solid gold a certain steward with a higher budget than was good for him had bought), you might have spotted a few pieces by Tilenu Neloren, an artist famous for her study of illusions both magical and otherwise. One of her works there is particularly striking - a painting of abstract shapes where you will find your eyes inexorably drawn to one particular point in the upper left corner. It really stuck in my memory, something that might be thanks to intellectual fascination, might be thanks to the fact that I'd been on lookout duty when I spotted it and the resulting narrow escape had been very narrow indeed.

Now, picture this: a hilly, rocky landscape at dusk, all subdued greens, greys and browns. Against this backdrop, pale pink stands out in front of you like a sore thumb. Your eyes automatically snap to focus on it. Then, involuntarily and with growing horror, they travel along a bare, muscular arm, over a hairy chest. From there (no) they find themselves drawn downwards (no!) despite your best efforts (noo!). Finally they stop, trapped like a fly in syrup by the sight of a glittering metal cap with furry earflaps held against- held in what I will simply refer to as a highly strategic place.

"Thank Kyne!" the Nord called out. "I've been waiting for hours for someone to pass by, almost lost hope. The name's Hisin Deep-Raed, as you can see I'm in need of a little assistance. Would you maybe have a- lass? Are you all right?"

I'd been mostly functioning on definitely-absolutely-no-doubt-about-it righteous anger since Sosia had woken me up from my collapse, and it had just run out. My legs folded underneath me. I sat down on the ground with a heavy thump.

"This isn't happening," I said blankly.

The Nord sounded concerned. He might look concerned, as well, but I still found my gaze transfixed by his... helmet. "Lass? I swear, all I was going to ask was if you might have a pair of trousers to lend me. And, er. Um. Er." A pause. "Perhaps a potion to cure diseases, if you have one. There was this, er, this witch, you see-"

"This isn't happening. I'm hallucinating. Or dreaming. Yes! Why didn't I figure it out earlier? All of this has been a bad dream. I'm going to wake up any moment now."

"Lass?" The fingers on the helm twitched, as though he was thinking of removing them and then thought better of it. "Are you travelling with anyone? I'm afraid I'm a bit... tied up right now..."

"Adryn? What are you- Oh. Er. Hello."

It seemed the figments of my imagination that were Sosia and Varvur had caught up with me. It also seemed my imagination and I needed to have a long, long talk.

"Ah, travellers! Well met, name's Hisin Deep-Raed - er, I think your companion is in need of some-"

"Good gods, man, what happened to your clothes?"

Of course this was a dream. Why hadn't I figured it out earlier? Who doesn't dream of falling?

"Well, y'see, that's a bit of a long story. It started with this witch..."

And the nudity! Why hadn't I clued in then?

"Is he your doing, Sosia?"

"What? No! I'm not the only female mage in the West Gash, you know."

To be fair, that had been a little atypical as nightmares go. Usually, those dreams involve me being naked - in particular, suddenly realising I was in front of a large crowd of people.

"Well, you're the only one I know with a penchant for stripping."

Me fully clothed but everyone around me naked, that was definitely a new one.

"-your enemies! I meant stripping your enemies!"

"...Nord, if you don't stop looking at me that way I may forget my healer's oaths."

Well, my nightmares had branched out. Apparently the dreams involving abject humiliation had decided to follow suit.

"Oh, you're a healer? Thank Kyne! I'd be forever grateful if you helped me out - you see, the witch gave me this, ah, disease-"

"...well, I suppose it's my duty. I'll need to see the primary afflicted area."

There was a long, pregnant pause.

"Ah. I. Are you sure you can't manage without?"

Up until that point, I'd been blocking out the others like the buzzing of some particularly annoying insects. However, the last snatches of conversation managed to penetrate my wall of denial. My eyes - still fixed on a certain area just beneath Hisin's stomach - widened in horrified realisation, then (finally!) squeezed firmly shut.

The darkness was immensely comforting, and made it so much easier to shut away the sound of the other three's raised voices and focus on mentally gibbering. Really, I thought, it would be so nice to just stay like this until I woke up.

As I was going to do any second.

Any moment now.

I felt the increasingly-familiar rush of an energising spell settle around me, and cracked my eyes open.

Sosia's worried face peered back at me. "Adryn? Are you all right?"

"I'm having a nightmare," I informed her.

"Hmm. Hysterics. Perhaps not entirely surprising. A Calm spell, maybe-"

The suggestion cut through my mental fog like Cloudcleaver being wielded by an angry Nord. I bolted upright. "No! No, I- I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine!"

Sosia eyed me dubiously. With a deep breath and mournful acceptance of the fact that this was actually happening, I got myself under control.

"No, really. It was just a momentary lapse. I'm all better now. See?" I gave her a trembling smile. "You should save your magicka, you never know when you'll need it."

Sosia gave me another long, critical look, then shrugged. "Well, if you're sure..."

I opted to take myself out of the danger zone by wandering over to where Varvur and Hisin were conversing. Hisin's posture was far more relaxed than before. A brief glance told me that his helmet was still (again?) serving as a makeshift codpiece, at which point I forced myself to avert my gaze.

"So." Varvur sounded wary. "You say there was a witch involved. Are you going to ask us to hunt her down for you? To recover a family heirloom, perhaps?"

"What? No, I'm well shot of her. And I've still got my heirloom, 's the only thing she left me, see? Although honestly, I'll gladly trade it to you for a pair of trousers-"

"No! Er, that won't be necessary. I wouldn't... I wouldn't dream of depriving a man of his family heirloom," Varvur said, shifting as though to try and hide the enormous battleaxe he was carrying behind his back. "I'd give you some trousers anyway, but I'm afraid I only have this pair and, er..."

We all duly pondered Varvur's suggestion.

"I don't think that would improve the situation," Sosia said delicately from behind me.

"Well, I wouldn't object if one of the ladies were to lend me their shirt instead," Hisin said with a leer in her direction. He wilted under the combined power of all three of our glares.

Then Varvur brightened. He looked as if he'd had an idea. I wondered whether I should be worried. "Adryn? Are you wearing anything under that robe?"

I started upright, fury rekindled. "Excuse me! What kind of a question is that!"

Varvur's eyes widened, apparently only now realising what that had sounded like. "I didn't mean- I only meant- if you could lend him your robe without, er-"

"You just accused me of being a flasher!"

"No, I only-"

"Look, just because I don't buy into your ridiculous notions of honour doesn't mean you get to assume-"

Varvur looked as if he was about to try apologising again. Then his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, ridiculous notions of-"

"Two drakes on the lass!"

Apparently our glares weren't as potent without Sosia, as Hisin weathered them undaunted. "What? You're expecting me to bet against a redhead in an argument? Oh - I'm not planning to stiff anyone, promise, I keep some emergency money in my-"

"Don't you all think we should be moving on?" Sosia interrupted hastily. I shot her a look of deep gratitude. I for one had not wanted to hear the end of that sentence.

After some negotiation, poisonous glances shot between Varvur and myself, and careful maneuverings involving my splinted arm which culminated in a disappointed look from Hisin when I proved to everyone that I was, in fact, perfectly decently attired under my robe, Sosia got her wish. Our - well, the addition of Hisin probably qualified it as a party - trudged along towards the farmhouse. This time, I stuck to the rear... although I did hope we'd make it with no further interruptions.

I mean, really. How many naked Nords can one island even hold?

******

The owner of the farmhouse, it turned out, was also a Nord. He managed to avoid the fate of being naked, however, by means of that marvelous invention known as clothes. He wore long trousers tucked into calf-high boots. A thigh-length tunic over a long-sleeved shirt. Even a kerchief around his neck! The only skin you could see was his hands and face!

Sjorvar - as he introduced himself - was only briefly taken aback by the troop of mostly underdressed people turning up on his doorstep asking for shelter. He also asked remarkably few questions about how we'd gotten there. Of course, given his glance at Hisin (who'd turned my poor, innocent robe into something that bore an unfortunate resemblance to a diaper), maybe he just didn't want to know. I couldn't blame him.

The house was really more of a shack, with only one room. To mine and Sosia's eternal gratitude, Sjorvar rigged some extra blankets into a separate sleeping alcove for the two of us. To everyone's, he lent the men some of his spare clothing. By the time he brought out two fat loaves of bread and a large bowl of a greasy reddish cheeselike substance that he called 'scuttle', I was ready to swear myself into his service. He professed himself flattered but unable to take me up on my offer, did however accept the drakes Sosia pressed into his hand.

After dinner, Sjorvar took out a bottle of something which he called 'sujamma'. The others accepted his offer of a round of drinks happily. I declined on grounds not drinking alcohol (quite frankly, I accidentally poison myself enough in the course of alchemical investigation that I fail to see the appeal of doing so on purpose) and being relatively certain that if I had to spend much more time in Varvur's direct company somebody would end up maimed and chances were it would be me.

Instead, I withdrew to the bundle of blankets we'd decided were going to be mine. I was tired enough to sleep, but the throbbing of my arm and noise of the others would make that difficult... and frankly, the last thing I wanted to do was lie awake with nothing to do but think back on the events of the day. I was quite looking forward to never thinking about certain of those events again. For instance-

Yes, a little bedtime reading for purpose of distraction was definitely called for. Besides, if I was going to lug half a dozen books through the wilderness, I should at least get some benefit from it. I rummaged through my pack...

My fingers closed on the oiled leather wrapped around Chronicles of Nchuleft.

Well, Jobasha had said that I was welcome to read it before I brought it to Edwinna, provided I was careful. I hadn't been planning to take him up on that, but... here in Sjorvar's hut, far away from Vivec, the threat hanging over me seemed very distant and was eclipsed by the lure of a rare book I'd only have access to for a few days.

I settled into my makeshift bed and opened it to the first page.

It happened in Second Planting that Lord Ihlendam, on a journey in the Western Uplands, came to Nchuleft...

*****
End of Chapter

Notes: I may have moved Hisin Deep-Raed slightly from his in-game location. I would like you to know that I regret *nothing*.

Also, I think Varvur was infected by the spirit of Dhertee Innu Endo this installment - I swear he came out with those, er, phrases with an unfortunate connotation completely on his own. Adryn is not amused.

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Sep 21 2013, 03:59 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Jeez, Kaz, there's so many damn Nords here on Vvardenfell that it may well be part of Skyrim!!

At least the most recent one was decent, in more ways than one

I'm glad Hisin got to keep his family jewels heirloom! Though considering its current usage, I don't blame the others for being reluctant to take it in exchange for some rather more concealing attire. He sort of reminded me of Jerric. Hope springs eternal in those two. Yes, that was a Dhertee Innu Endo!

Now that we have the Three Stooges Nords out of the way, shall Adryn finally get to see what is so cool about that book?

[mALX]

Chapter 8.5:

I had started reading this chapter when it posted, then had a period of no free time and couldn't get back to it. I can't find the notes I started on it! Urk!

If someone chases you through half the city screaming about how they'll wring your filthy dark elven neck for stealing their- for accidentally having their purse fall into your pocket in a mishap that could really happen to anyone, then at least you know that they're objecting to your continued existence on an individual basis.

BWAAHAA! Loved her little slip there!

Their rocky interactions and misunderstandings make for a great read! Awesome Write!

[Kazaera]

@haute - in my defense, every single Nord is in the game! In fact, this is not even all the naked Nords there are! Perhaps there's a sneaky invasion plan going on, with naked barbarians as the first agents.

Hisin is indeed very grateful for being able to keep his family jewels heirloom, and I'm glad the reason Varvur and co. were not keen on making that trade was obvious. I hadn't been thinking of Jerric when I wrote him, but there might be some resemblance... maybe Jerric is simply the patron saint of Chorrol's affable yet slightly hapless Nords, lol.

@mALX - no worries, take your time... I'm glad you're enjoying the chapter! The misunderstandings definitely add a certain *something* to it, I think.

Last chapter, there were teleportation mishaps - so many teleportation mishaps - and naked Nords, the last also being sadly, definitely, plural. In the end, Adryn and her newly-found company (including one (1) Redoran noble who Adryn is beginning to wish she'd never accidentally rescued, one (1) thankfully ex-naked Nord and one (1) disturbingly cheerful witch with a propensity for stripping - her enemies, don't look at me like that) took shelter in Sjorvar Horse-Mouth's farmhouse for the night, planning to walk to Ald'ruhn the next day.

Chapter 9

*****

The mer's face creased into a smile when he saw me at the door.

"My friend! It's good to see you - come in, come in!"

"You're unusually happy I'm here," I observed as I entered. "Let me guess, Anchard asked you to look over his records again?"

"I should probably be worried you know me so well," he said ruefully. "Then again, perhaps it's that you know Anchard and his minutely detailed reports with five times as many pages as anyone else would deem necessary, hm? I'm sure you remember - the ones he always insists are highly urgent, of vital importance, and too sensitive to be read by anyone other than you?"

"Strangely enough, I don't think I remember anything of the sort." I stripped off my left gauntlet. "Of course, this may be related to the fact that I seem to have blocked five years' worth of Council proceedings from my memory. The five years in which Anchard was responsible for records, in fact. I'm sure it's merely a coincidence."

My friend barked a laugh, pushing aside a stack of parchment covered in horribly, horribly familiar handwriting and rising in order to help me divest myself of the rest of my armour. Once I'd been freed of the final piece, he gave the pile of chitin we'd made a long look.

He frowned. "I don't see a weapon in there. You're not here unarmed, are you? We may not have seen any of Hoaga's raiding parties in the past seven years, but that's no reason to be careless. Besides, there are nix-hound packs about."

"No, no," I replied as I dragged up a chair. "Your new doorman insisted on taking my spear. He seemed to think I might try to stab you." I shrugged. "He also seemed surprised I wasn't ten feet tall and my diet didn't consist primarily of misbehaving Dwemer children. One more shock might have been lethal - I thought I'd better do what he said."

The other mer sighed. "I'll have a word with him. He's from one of the outlying outposts, you know, and the stories there are really getting out of hand. But first!" He reached for a bottle on a shelf. "Sujamma?"

"Dumac-"

"You know," Dumac's voice was airy, "if anyone ever tried to impersonate you with an illusion spell, I could find him out in a heartbeat by offering him alcohol. True, at this point there are undoubtedly a few... actually, numerous... let's be honest, a veritable multitude of people who could repeat your lecture on poisons, long-term effects and your general and total incomprehension of why anyone would willingly blunt their mental capacities word-for-word. But the face you pull, that's unmistakeable. I've never seen anyone reproduce it. I'm not entirely sure it's anatomically possible."

I'd really have liked to defend myself. Honestly. Alas, certain comments of Sul's I might have overheard indicated that in this particular argument, the truth had unfairly thrown its support behind Dumac. It did so quite frequently, in fact - I should take it to task for bias one of these days. However, until Truth and its cousin Facts decided to side with me a prudent retreat was probably in order. In lieu of answering, I busied myself getting two goblets from the sideboard.

"I take it you haven't changed your mind on the matter?" Dumac asked, already reaching for a second bottle. "Comberry juice it is. Pity, though, because if the news I've heard is correct a drink in celebration is called for - or perhaps a drink for the purpose of getting very, very drunk?"

"News?" I asked, before realising there was really only one thing he could be referring to. Still - messages travelled much faster now that we'd finally gotten the propylon chamber at Marandus set up, but I hadn't expected him to have heard already-

"Your upcoming nuptials? You know my assistants will be very disappointed if it turns out that's just rumour. Half of them have already laid bets on how long it will take her to kill you."

"Her to kill me?" I asked, plaintive. "Doesn't it usually go both ways? You'd think being a legendary hero would at least grant me equal probability."

"My friend," Dumac said, leaning forward, "when a legendary hero who is famous for looking for diplomatic solutions, who has been known to say that resorting to violence is the first step on the road to failure, marries Almalexia - Almalexia of the Erabenimsun, Almalexia the war-leader... no. No, it will definitely be her killing you."

"Well, I'm glad to know what I have to look forward to. I'd hate for something like that to be a surprise."

"Forewarned is forearmed - perhaps literally, in this case. I'll have to think of an appropriate wedding gift." Dumac paused, then raised his goblet. "But first, a toast! To Almalexia and -"

*****

My eyes opened to darkness.

Although I was barely awake, the details of the dream were already fleeing my mind. There'd been a... a mer, I couldn't remember of which race. He'd been... pleased to see me. We'd talked about... what had we talked about?

It was no use, like trying to hold smoke - the harder I tried to grasp it, the more it slipped away between my fingers.

However. I'd had a dream. And although the details were gone, the feelings lingered. The mer - I'd been just as pleased to see him. I'd been relaxed, joking, happy. My lips were still curved in a smile.

I'd had a dream that had actually been good. My previous dreams had left me increasingly unsure as to whether that was even possible.

It was early, and without the jolt of waking up from a nightmare I'd be asleep again within minutes. However, before that happened, there was something I needed to tell my subconscious.

"Much better, thank you," I mumbled. "More like it please..."

*****

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Mar 22 2015, 07:41 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Oooh, a replay of a past event!

Wonder who the "I' in this installment is? I can guess, though, knowing what little I do know about the MW storyline!

But I'm not sayin' just because you're not sayin'!

Yummmy!

[Grits]

Two chapters! Yay.

I was chuckling over the Naked Nord’s helmet. At least he didn’t have his arms crossed over his chest while it just hung there.

"What? No, I'm well shot of her. And I've still got my heirloom, 's the only thing she left me, see?

Heirloom indeed. Suuure he meant the helmet.

Oh my goodness, emergency money. I may need to be revived after reading this update! A Nord wearing only his cap down south but still hitting on the pretty healer. While he had an embarrassing disease. I was reminded of Jerric, too, in a most delightful way. Outstanding Naked Nordity!

Chapter 9

My friend barked a laugh, pushing aside a stack of parchment covered in horribly, horribly familiar handwriting

That sounds like it might be inspired by real-life experience. Too real for comfort!

The part where the person Adryn was in her dream also declined alcohol was a shiver-inducing touch.

[Kazaera]

*wanders in sheepishly*

Do I even need to apologise for disappearing anymore, we know the drill by now...

Anyway! I'm not dead, neither is Adryn. In fact, chapter 9 is finished bar some transition issues which I will totally fix before we get there *whistles* and I thought it was about time to start posting again.

Also, I apologise in advance because this next update is really, really long but there was seriously no good breaking point anywhere. Future ones should be shorter!

A quick recap of what has gone before: thanks to a remarkable series of misfortunes including not one but two teleportation mishaps, Adryn found herself stranded in the West Gash wilderness with a broken arm, one ex-naked Nord by the name of Hisin Deep-Raed, one Breton witch responsible for another naked Nord going by Sosia Caristiana, and one kidnapped Redoran noble named Varvur Sarethi who she rather inadvertently rescued. Varvur says he was really fine without, he preferred the cell. At the end of last chapter, they'd found refuge in a farmhouse owned by a thankfully not naked at all Nord (Sjorvar Horse-Mouth) who took pity on our merry band and let them stay the night.

Last installment, Adryn had a dream. An entirely normal dream which was not worrying or ominous in the least. Well, at least Adryn thinks so... noting that, as it so happens, she forgot what it was about immediately after waking up. You're free to make up your own mind on the matter...

Chapter 9.2
*****

"So this is Ald'ruhn? Somehow I was imagining it'd be more impressive."

This was, of course, an abject lie. I remembered how I'd thought the rounded buildings of Balmora looked organic when I first entered the city... oh, how ignorant I'd been. Architectural style aside, Balmorans used perfectly conventional building materials such as stone or wattle and daub. This was something I now realised showed a distinct lack of imagination in comparison to the people of Ald'ruhn, who'd apparently decided lack of wood meant they should make their buildings out of the discarded shells of some sort of crustaceans I guessed were some long-extinct ancestor of the silt strider. At least I hoped they were long-extinct, because it was obvious the species had shrunk quite a bit in the intervening years. The smallest shell I saw was the size of a small house (an easy comparison, since it happened to be one), the largest a jaw-dropping monstrosity that was probably as wide as one of the cantons of Vivec. The idea of stumbling across one of those in the wild... Suffice it to say that from a certain perspective, kagouti bore a remarkable resemblance to fluffy baby bunnies.

Overall, it meant that from a distance Ald'ruhn looked far more like some ancient graveyard of monsters in the middle of the ash wastes than a city, and I'd been hard-put not to goggle as we drew nearer and the scale of everything became more obvious. However, admitting I was impressed would make Varvur smug, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. The look on his face right now was ample revenge for his dig earlier about the habits of thieves - a dig he might claim had been entirely justified by my request earlier as to whether I might be able to take some samples of the lichen growing where his brain should be to see if it had any interesting alchemical properties, but that was a perfidious lie. After all, I had been solely defending myself after his malicious comment about-

It had been a long morning.

Quite frankly, the only part of said morning I thought worth remembering was the healing spell Sosia had taught me for my arm. (She'd called it "amply paid for in entertainment". I was certain I had no idea what she could possibly mean.)

Varvur shot me a glare and marched towards the gate. Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd rather forget the last five hours or so - and unlike me, Varvur hadn't even learned a new spell during the course of it. I fought the urge to inform him of this, possibly while sticking my tongue out at his back and going 'nyah nyah'. No, I told myself, I should be dignified and mature. Prove that I was the better mer here. Besides, in just a few minutes I'd never have to see Varvur again - surely I could manage that long.

Wait. Something was wrong.

The guards at the gate had stopped Varvur and taken him aside. Now the three of them seemed to be having an agitated discussion in Dunmeris, complete with animated gesturing on the part of the guards. Varvur, on the other hand, was shrinking in on himself, arms coming up to wrap around his chest as though to ward something off.

I looked at my companions to see whether either of them understood what was going on. Hisin looked about as confused as I felt, but Sosia was frowning.

Finally, Varvur broke away from the guards and made his way back to us, shoulders slumped.

"It's fine. You can go in," he said quietly, not meeting our eyes. He sounded defeated.

"Wait, what about you?" I was certain I'd heard the slighest of stresses on that 'you'.

"More to the point, what was that about you being a murderer?" Sosia's voice was as cold as Midwinter in the Pale. I looked at her askance - she'd been nothing but friendly and upbeat ever since we'd met. The scowl on her face now looked out of place enough I briefly pondered the possibility of impostors (if it can happen to the Emperor...).

Then what she'd said sunk in.

"Murderer?" I stared at Varvur with new eyes. Next to me, Hisin let out a growl.

"I'm not! I swear! It's..." Varvur sighed. "All right. I'll explain. Just," he glanced around. "Not here, all right? It's a long story."

We moved away from the gate until we were behind one of the towers, out of sight of the guards. Varvur leaned against the wall, looking hunted, while Sosia scowled at him with Hisin looming at her shoulder.

"So, wait," I was still trying to process this. "That cell I broke you out of-"

"Cell?"

I ignored Hisin. "You weren't a kidnapping victim at all, were you?"

"No, I was. Sorry, this gets complicated." Varvur ran a hand through his hair. "When I came- under suspicion, the Archmaster's guards grabbed me. For 'security', he called it. But it was obvious I was meant to be a hostage. My father is... an enemy, I guess you could say, of his. If he had me locked away, he could use me to force my father to stop opposing him in Council, introduce the legislation he wants, do his dirty work for him - all kinds of things, really. By dressing it up as guarding a dangerous murder suspect, he'd stay within the law so none of the guards would lift a finger... and with his political clout, it'd be easy to get a trial delayed indefinitely."

Varvur's shoulders slumped. "Nilos and Volene at the gate, they told me that they had orders to apprehend me and bring me back to Venim," he said quietly. "They're friends of mine and can see this isn't right, so they said they'd let me leave - but if I tried to enter the city they'd have no choice."

"That's all well and good," Sosia said. If Varvur's tale had softened her towards him at all, she didn't show it. "However, I have to admit I'm more interested in the murder suspect part of that story."

"They claim I- I murdered Bralen Carvaren. I wouldn't, I swear!" Varvur added hastily. "Bralen, he's my -" He swallowed. "Was my best friend. Our mothers are friends, we've- we knew each other from the cradle. We were going to join the forces at Marandus together in a few months-" He stopped and turned his head away, but not before I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He was either really upset or a very good actor.

Again, Sosia didn't seem moved by his distress. "What is it you're not telling us?"

Varvur looked taken aback by the question. What he didn't look was confused.

All right, maybe he was a very good actor.

"A few days before Bralen d-" Varvur's voice grew unsteady and he broke off for a moment. "Before he- before, I'd started having these... blackouts. I'd lose track of time, I'd suddenly be somewhere and I couldn't remember where I'd got there or what I'd been doing. When they didn't stop... I was going to go to the Temple for help. But then... then Bralen... and I, I wouldn't have killed him, I'd never have killed him! But," Varvur's voice fell to a whisper, "I can't remember what I was doing when he was..."

I gulped. That story was just a little too-

No, Adryn, wait and see what Sosia says. It was still possible Varvur was a very, very good actor, and she'd been much better at spotting dissembling than me so far.

Sosia sighed, the cold look fleeing her face to be replaced by weariness. "All right. I believe you."

"What, you do?" That was Hisin. "That story is so full of holes-"

Sosia's smile was dry and humourless. "I help out at the Temple, did I mention? And something we've been seeing more and more lately is something we've been calling the 'soul sickness'."

Wait, wasn't that...

"The strange dreams?" I asked. Varvur jerked as if someone had struck him.

Sosia shot me a surprised look. "Yes, that's how it starts off. Sometimes, it develops further into black-outs exactly like Varvur described. Witnesses to these often report the people affected acting strangely and doing things that are out of character. This would be the first case of outright murder I've heard of, but-"

No.

"Wait." You could see the blood drain from Varvur's face. "You mean I actually-"

No.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," Sosia advised kindly. "From what we've been able to tell, the effect is much like a Command spell."

Much like a Command spell-

The first thing I notice is a sharp metallic taste in my mouth, so intense it almost makes me retch. It seems to take forever until I recognise it as blood.

The sticky warmth I feel soaking into my shirt must be more blood, as well as the patches staining my trousers. Blood coats my fingers, blood drips from the dagger I'm clutching-

Dagger? Where did that come from?

Forget the dagger, where did all this blood come from? What's going on?

What happened?

I think ba-

I can feel something terrible hidden in my memory of the last few hours, lurking in this room to ambush me, like a kraken laying in wait beneath the smooth surface of the sea. If I just stay right here and don't move, don't look, don't remember, I'll be safe. If I do anything else it'll get me, and if it does-

Don't think. Stand still. And, may any god that would take you have mercy - don't look.

Shouts, coming from outside. Someone pounding on the door. Glancing over is reflex, beyond the realm of conscious decision.

Halfway to the door, my eyes stop, transfixed. I-

I see-

Lying on the floor-

No!

Wrenching myself away from the past was difficult. It didn't want to let me go, clung to me with iron force and tried to drag me down. But I persevered, beating the memories back down again and again with grim determination until they finally stopped trying to claw their way into my mind.

When everything was safely pent up for the moment, I looked around to see what had been going on while I was - distracted.

The other three seemed not to have noticed anything amiss. Good. I had absolutely no intentions of explaining.

"Sorry there's not more I can do, lad," Hisin was saying. He sounded glum. "I won't mention you to the guards, promise."

"I'll ask at the Temple if there's anything we can do to help," Sosia said. "And- if you want me to get a message to your father?"

For a moment, Varvur's face lit up with hope. Then it faded again. "It's... it's probably best for me to avoid contacting him. I expect the Archmaster's spies are going to be watching him - knowing him, he'd take any message as proof that Father is aiding and abetting a fugitive. I couldn't bear it if I got him into trouble."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I-" It was clear from Varvur's expression that he had no idea.

"You could come to Balmora with me." I really hoped the way my voice shook wasn't as obvious to everyone else as it was to me. "I. I have this sudden, strange desire to walk there, you see."

Three pairs of eyes goggled at me.

"I mean," I ploughed on, "I don't think anyone's going to be looking for you there. Especially if this Venim really thinks I'm a Telvanni, or whatever that was. And I've got... some friends." Well, I had Ajira, but I figured she was worth several. "I'm sure we can figure out some way to prove that you were-" I swallowed hard. "Were, um. Controlled."

My audience looked as if they'd been hit by a paralysis spell. I was just wondering whether I'd somehow used my birthsign ability on them without noticing I was doing it or (for that matter) falling unconscious when Sosia moved... sadly, in a direction I could have done without.

I tried to dodge her, but Sosia managed to catch me in a hug despite my best efforts. "Why, Adryn!" She sounded delighted. "Such a generous offer to make, I knew you had it in you!"

Wait, was she accusing me of - I flinched at the word - altruism?

"No, I-"

Both my protest and my struggle to escape went unheeded, Sosia's arms tightening around me as she went on.

"I do commend you! Such selflessness and compassion - you might think about becoming a healer one day! I'm sure you and Varvur will do very well if you keep those things in mind."

"You've misun-" I tried to yank out of her hold.

Was this a Breton or a clinging octopus? It was getting hard to tell.

"Now, remember the spell I taught you. Like I told you, you can leave your arm out of the sling if you're careful but you absolutely must cast it morning and evening for at least two days, don't forget. But I really must be off - Varvur-"

Then I was released as the whirlwind that was Sosia accosted Varvur. I backed away, taking some amount of pleasure in the horrified expression on his face.

"Lass!"

I glared at Hisin. (Two syllables!)

Again, he was sadly undaunted. "A bit of advice as a farewell. Now, I know you're a redhead and all and these things are a mite tricky for you. All the same, maybe you'll get something useful out of the way Hisin here keeps his temper, hmm?"

I raised an eyebrow at the insinuation that I had a temper problem, something I felt was obviously untrue. Well, I supposed I could humour the delusional man for a little. "Oh?"

"See, anytime when I think I'm going to say something..." he coughed, "something that's maybe not entirely diplomatic, heat of the moment and all, I make myself count to ten in Aldmeris first."

I blinked. "But I don't know any Aldmeris."

"Excellent! Neither do I. That's why it works, see?" Hisin clapped me on the shoulder. By the time I recovered my balance enough to retaliate, he'd already retreated out of range.

And then they were gone.

There was a long moment of silence in which Varvur looked at me dubiously.

"Look, if you're counting on the bounty for turning me in-" he started.

Wait. This was his response to my very generous offer to help him out, purely out of the goodness of my heart?

I took several steps forward until I was standing right in front of him, wishing for once in my life that I was taller. Don't get me wrong, being on the short side has all sorts of advantages - ranging from far greater blanket coverage on cold nights to a much reduced chance of concussions from low doorframes. However, right now I couldn't help but think I'd be more intimidating if I came up higher than Varvur's chin.

I planted my hand on my hip, partially to help the intimidation factor but mostly to make sure it wouldn't end up in his face. I like to think that I'm not a violent person, but not slapping him was taking a lot of my willpower. "Tell me. When we were young, did I kick your dog? Break your favourite toy? Kidnap your teddy bear and hold it for ransom? All of these seem a little unlikely given that I grew up on the other side of Tamriel, but maybe I had some sort of freak teleportation accident in my sleep. I certainly don't know how else to explain why you're acting like this!"

"But..." Varvur seemed puzzled. "You laugh at the notion of honour, so if you're not hoping for a reward, then why... or is it that you're hoping for one from my father?"

Forget lichen, was there anything in his head? If I looked into his ear, would I see sunlight? "For your information," I said, biting off each word, "I just-"

The taste of blood in my mouth-

I licked my lips and tried again. "I think-"

Don't look-

"Nobody should ever be forced to kill their best friends." Each word felt as if it had actual weight when it fell from my lips, and when I'd finished speaking I felt dizzy and strangely adrift.

Don't remember-

Yes. Not remembering was definitely the way to go here.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" I stared at Varvur. I'd been a little- absorbed in my thoughts, so surely I hadn't heard that right. Had he just-

"I'm sorry," he repeated. Yes, he'd apologised. I cast a quick glance skywards to check for airborne farm animals.

"I- misjudged you, I think." Varvur seemed to find his shoes suddenly fascinating. "It- in my defense, it hasn't been the best few days, and the way we- Anyway. I... may have jumped to conclusions."

Well, there were no flying pigs in evidence, although I'd be interested to know the current temperature in the Deadlands. "Apology accepted," I said, then paused. Well, I could afford to be gracious. "I might not have been the most - um. Congenial person, either. Sorry about that."

"Yes, you really-" Varvur coughed. "I mean, right. Apology, um, accepted."

I could almost get used to Varvur like this. Besides, if I was really going to help him out it'd be best if we weren't at each other's throats constantly.

"Truce?" I asked, holding out my hand.

Varvur took it. "Truce," he agreed.

(It lasted ten minutes.)

*****

Notes: I continue doling out Adryn's backstory in bits and pieces. That said, this should make clear why she's so reluctant to think about it.

...

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: May 16 2020, 02:42 PM

[mALX]

It is so good to see Sleeper in the Cave on top again! Since you haven't been here in a while may not know - I can't read much more than a short paragraph since my stroke; really missing all my favorite stories and can't write mine anymore; or even edit the chapters I had previously written. But I def wanted to stop in and welcome you back!

[Kazaera]

It is so good to see Sleeper in the Cave on top again! Since you haven't been here in a while may not know - I can't read much more than a short paragraph since my stroke; really missing all my favorite stories and can't write mine anymore; or even edit the chapters I had previously written. But I def wanted to stop in and welcome you back!

Oh no! I had no idea, I'm so sorry. Thank you for the welcome back, in any case! Adryn and I really appreciate it.

[mALX]

It is so good to see Sleeper in the Cave on top again! Since you haven't been here in a while may not know - I can't read much more than a short paragraph since my stroke; really missing all my favorite stories and can't write mine anymore; or even edit the chapters I had previously written. But I def wanted to stop in and welcome you back!

Oh no! I had no idea, I'm so sorry. Thank you for the welcome back, in any case! Adryn and I really appreciate it.

Yeah, a year ago at this time I was barely alive. Not being able to read or write anymore was devastating; but it is kind of a miracle I even made it through this; so it is something I've learned to live with (or without in this case).

[haute ecole rider]

How wonderful to see Girl Lass Adryn back in fine fettle! She has lost none of her humor since the last time I read this delightful story!