Idiosyncrasy, This won't end well. Options

[Petra Arkanian]

Okay, so I've been unactive for a while (yeah, yeah, underestimated, more like 3 months, which is a long time), and most of the reason why is because I've been trying and trying to come up with good ideas for my other story (Concerned but powerless), and sadly, I have - for the moment - failed. Utterly and completely. I have realized that I was playing the same old card like fifty times, and... yeaaaaaaah. Anyway. Rambling. So, basically, long story short, I have decided to start a new story and yeah I can see where this is going because it's such a common trend with me, as I have a ton of books that I've started and never finished. Yep. Okay, now for the story.

CHAPTER 1

Run, run, run. Toward the deer, away from the deer, just run.

I vault over a large fallen tree, knock an arrow, and try to aim at the buck while sprinting. My arrow sprouts out of it's neck, and I slow my pace to a walk as I go to fetch my kill. The arrow is snapped in two, which I expected, since the buck had fallen on his left side, which is where the arrow was. I shove the deer over onto its back, with its legs lolling out aimlessly, and I try to dig the shaft out of the smooth, tan hide. A young buck - that's good. I haven't had meat for a while, since the Blackwood is relatively devoid of animals, but flourishing with plants. And let me tell you, living off plants is no party. I once knew a few people (they're dead now) who'd live of anything besides meat. And I'll never understand why.

As I gather wood for a fire, I begin to contemplate where I'll go next. I've always wondered what it's like in Bruma, but really, I don't really fancy the cold, and in any case, I'm not much of a people person. I like dead people okay, but live ones? Definitely not. They talk too much. It's the same with pretty much every kind of humanoid. Self-centered and unrealistic. So I stay away from them as much as possible. The other ones I kill. Not always, but usually.

The crackling fire illuminates the now dark forest around me.

Ahh, the Panther River, where game grows on trees.

I walk back to my deer, take out my trusted hunting knife, and begin skinning it, as it's too large for me to drag back to my fire. And in any case, the fire is so close by that it's hardly worth it. And if I had made the fire here, in the clearing, then the smoke would definitely have alerted someone that I was nearby. And then some stupid 'Imperial Legioner' would have come to get me and I'd have to kill them.

So I try to steer clear of these weirdos.

The carcass is mostly skinned, and the only parts with fur are the head and paws, and since I don't eat those anyway I cut them off with my knife and begin slicing the buck into sizable chunks.

I wrap these in the skin and bring them to the fire, skewer one on a burned stick, and wait for it to heat up. It will take a while, so I begin an inventory of my current items. A few knives; about two dozen arrows (I'd better come across a bandit archer soon); several large edible nuts whose name I still don't know, but which I call treenuts; one last pair of camouflage patterned clothes; a short sword; two black capes, one of which is mostly in tatters; and a large waterskin. Empty, of course.

I'll need to find a stream, and soon, but for now I think I'll just rest and wait for the meat.

In about an hour, I have two large pieces of venison roasted and ready for eating, and so I begin. They taste like heaven, if heaven tasted like deer meat. Which I bet it doesn't.

Full and rather sleepy, I retire to my small sleeping bag, which I carry around, because sleeping on moldy acorns and wet leaves isn't very enjoyable. I would know.

***

I wake up, feeling more refreshed than usual. No dreams tonight. This comes as a relief - nearly all of my dreams are nightmares, and I always flail about when I sleep, so I usually awake with bruises. This being said, I don't sleep too often.

I pack up my things, smother the fire with the abundant rocks, and stretch. I begin walking, chewing on a wad of the inside of pine bark, which tastes a lot like mint, and continue to contemplate the question that I'm always facing: Where next?

Perhaps I'll just look for a bandit camp and ambush people and settle down for a while. In fact, I decide that's exactly what I'll do; and I head out to a famous one that people somehow always pass and somehow always forget to bring their weapons: Fisherman's rock.

It's about a days journey, and I almost dread having to turn back to the Blackwood, but I persist. It's the perfect camp.

So with my pack full, my stomach settled and my mind made, I hurry on, anxious to find the camp.

This post has been edited by Petra Arkanian: Mar 14 2011, 07:39 PM

[Petra Arkanian]

I welcome all constructive criticizers and hope to hear feedback on my new story soon.

Thank you,
Petra

[Thomas Kaira]

Hello again, Petra! We may not have met before, but I have noticed your presence. I am liking what I see in here so far. The chapter was very relaxing and soothing. It gave a nice window into what it is like to be a lone, wandering forester. I'll be watching this thread for updates, as you have perked my interest!

Now, you asked for some constructive criticism, so here we go:

I'm seeing a lot of questionable verb tenses in your writing. Here's a few examples:

I walk back to my deer,

wrap these in the skin and bring them to the fire, skewer one on a burned stick,

wake up, feeling more refreshed than usual.

This is something of a personal matter to me, because I don't really like starting sentences with present basic tense verbs. However, the main issue here is that you are using the present basic tense too much, which stagnates the writing. You might want to experiment with conjugation in some of your sentences to make them flow better.

I shove the deer over onto it's back, with it's legs lolling out aimlessly, and I try to dig the shaft out of the smooth, tan hide.

Both of these are improper contractions, however at the same time this is one of those many spells of weirdness in the English language. Normally a contraction such as Buffy's or Teresa's implies ownership, but that is not the case here. It's means it is, so your sentence is essentially reading "I shove the deer over onto it is back, with it is legs lolling out aimlessly...." This is a fairly common error (one that I am guilty of myself on several occasions) because it violates most of the standard rules, because in this case the uncontracted form (its) is the correct one.
EDIT: And I did it again! Yay me! :facepalm: Also look out for whose (possessive) vs. who's (who is), which has turned out to be a major stumbling block for me.

I once knew a few people (they're dead now) who'd live of anything besides meat. And I'll never understand why.

These two sentences need not be separated, as this causes two problems. Firstly, the latter sentence does not stand up very well on its own (it's not quite a fragment, but it's pushing the boundaries), and secondly because it makes no sense to start another sentence with a conjunction (what are you joining together with it in such a case?). I'd suggest combining these two sentences together. Oh, and speaking of starting with conjunctions...

I walk back to my deer, take out my trusted hunting knife, and begin skinning it, as it's too large for me to drag back to my fire. And in any case, the fire is so close by that it's hardly worth it. And if I had made the fire here, in the clearing, then the smoke would definitely have alerted someone that I was nearby. And then some stupid 'Imperial Legioner' would have come to get me and I'd have to kill them.

In this paragraph, save for the first, you started every sentence with a conjunction, which also happens to be the exact same word. You may want to consider rewriting this paragraph.

I've always wondered what it's like in Bruma, but really, I don't really fancy the cold,

You've used "really" twice in rather quick succession here. I'd suggest removing the latter iteration.

A few knives; about two dozen arrows (I'd better come across a bandit archer soon); several large edible nuts whose name I still don't know, but which I call treenuts; one last pair of camouflage patterned clothes; a short sword; two black capes, one of which is mostly in tatters; and a large waterskin.

Every semicolon in this (very long) sentence is being used improperly. Read up here on how to properly use semicolons in writing. These buggers are actually a bit difficult to grasp, as they're basically a sort of weird hybrid of a period and a comma. The basic usage is if you want to combine two sentences into one without using a conjunction, but where a comma would be improper; this leads to a bit of a judgment call for the writer as to where to use them. (That was also an example on how to properly use a semicolon, albeit it's not a very great one.)

if heaven tasted like deer meat. Which I bet it doesn't.

Another unnecessarily separated sentence here. Once again, the latter sentence doesn't need to be separated.

This comes as a relief - nearly all of my dreams are nightmares, and I always flail about when I sleep, so I usually awake with bruises.

This is an example where it would have been better to show us, rather than tell us. A nightmare is an excellent way to hook someone into your story. After all, I did it myself (so maybe I'm biased here, but still).

Again, welcome back! I hope to see more from you soon!

Various edits: I needed to research my own grammar for a few of those to make sure I was using the correct words.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Mar 9 2011, 09:17 PM

[King Coin]

Not a bad start. The main character sounds like someone my character would kill though lol. Good thing I don't spend much time in the Black Marsh.

[Petra Arkanian]

Thomas Kaira: Thanks for the nits. I was kinda trying to do present tense writing, but i supposed I didn't do too well. Yeesh! I've gotten rusty at this stuff! Thanks!

Oh yeah. And, we DID actually... well not talk, but exchange comments on stories and stuff. So I remember you . Good to see you, all of you.

[Thomas Kaira]

To clarify something:

There is no concrete rule against starting a sentence with a conjuction, I just feel that one should exercise care where they do so. There are places where it does make sense to do this, but such places are not very common. Best to avoid doing this at all if you are skeptical of how to make good use of sentence-starting conjunctions.

That is the logic behind my criticisms on those.

[Petra Arkanian]

Okay, so this is basically a flash-back of our protagonist's escape from the Imperial Prison.

CHAPTER 2

The faint but nevertheless hot sun is burning my back under the layers of leather and fur. I take off my old and worn leather jacket and tie it around my waist. My cropped brown hair is hanging down, limp and sweaty, brushing against my neck. I don't understand why it is hot here, as I'm just on a small rocky outcrop that seems to have been forgotten about by the mapmakers. It's nowhere on my old and trusted map, which leads me to believe that I must have gotten turned around somehow.

It's possible, but highly improbable. I have checked and re-checked my unfailable compass, one that I found when I broke out of jail. Stole it from some assassins corpse. That had been a long journey. The memory comes back to me clearly, and I sit down to further marvel over my luck.

I was minding my own hard business, completely immersed in coaxing the hot metal blade to take the proper form, when an old beggar woman came up to me.

"Sir, a coin for the sick?" she wheezed. I turned around to get my money bag, as I was really more of the compassionate type at the time.

My money bag. It had been sitting on a nearby anvil, in a corner of the shop, covered by a cascade of metal-singing scrolls. Both the scrolls and the small satin pouch were gone. GONE!

I turned back to the old woman, only to find that she too, had disappeared. In fact, the only person in my chaotic shop was a man in black that was... that was swinging from the rafters dangling a sword tauntingly above my head!

I swore and jumped, grabbing hold of the low hanging chandelier. The candles cascaded to the floor, some still lit, as I tried to leap to where the thief was clambering down the high wall to avoid the spreading flames.

To avoid the spreading flames!

I pulled down the wall hangings from an old desk - having just bought them and having not gotten around to putting them up - and threw them onto the now raging fire. The sheets only burst into flame, causing the fire to burn only more intensely.

So instead of trying to put the fire out, which I knew was futile, I ran about gathering my most valuable possessions. Not many, as I had just started shop, but enough for me to miss once they were gone.

I grabbed my last singed but unburned book and darted out the door. Those damn thieves!

About half an hour later, one of the employees who worked for Edgar's Discount Spells arrived and put out the remaining flame with some half-working, home-made, unsafe spell that got her doused somehow, even though the jet of luke-warm water had been pointed toward the three other blackened houses. The woman looked flustered as she ducked out of sight to avoid being seen with a wet dress and sopping hair that was dripping onto her shoulders.

"So," said the only present Imperial Guard. "Did you create this burn?"

"No! Of course not! This thief in black came in and stole my purse and I jumped up onto the chandelier and the..." I broke off, the better to get infuriated at the crowd who were shaking their heads incredulously.

"Be at the trial tomorrow. Tomorrow." The Guard turned and, rolling his eyes at the crowd of singed and angry townsfolk, he left back to the Imperial Palace.

Of course, I was much too angry and confused to ask when or where the trail was supposed to be; so the next morning, I was dragged unceremoniously from my lice-infected bed in the Merchants Inn and loaded still half-asleep onto a wagon.

The wagon bumped along for a while, perhaps an hour, and then it stopped with a lurch, and I looked up and saw the Imperial Prisons. My eyes bugged as I thought about how long I'd probably be staying here.

A Guard hauled me out of the none-too-comfortable wagon bed and into an even less comfortable grimy cell. Then the Guard stalked off muttering something about Jerry's pay-raise and bad eggs.

"Hey! Hey, you! Yes, you!" A voice called in a carrying whisper. An ugly Dunmer stepped forward, with rotting-looking skin and a pug nose.

"Well now, a pretty little Wood Elf. You're a little far from the forest, huh? Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to a tragic end. To go from the gladed realm of Valenwood to a rat-infested hole like this... how very sad. Those walls must feel like they're closing in on you. Pretty soon you'll go mad, and the Guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting. That's right. You're going to die in here, Wood Elf! Die!"

I ground my teeth and crawled backward as the man continued; "And if the Guards don't, maybe I will! Just for something to eat, you know? Hehehehehehe."

I was crawling backward now, fast enough to give myself a large lump on my head when I hit the dirty stone wall behind me. It hurt, and I rubbed it furiously and looked down, trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing pain. I stared down in first confusion and then hope.

There was one of those brass rings that you use to haul up trapdoors. I opened it cautiously. There was a small and earthy hole, which went down about five feet, which would mean a bit of a jump at the end and I would still be able to pull myself back up.

I leapt downward, found that I had underestimated the jump a bit, and sank to the floor, nursing my sprained ankle. I looked around in the dark gloom, trying to make out a stick that perhaps I could use to walk with. There was a long bone to my side which I didn't want to use, and then a four-foot metal bar a few feet to my left. I inched toward it and picked it up. It probably only weighed twenty pounds, which wasn't too bad, so I planted it on the dirt and pulled myself up. I found that I could walk if I leaned heavily on my right side and hobbled a bit.

There wasn't much light, not much at all, and it was getting dimmer and dimmer as I walked on down the tunnel. It reminded me a lot of this one story about a Bosmer and this rabbit, which the Bosmer chased and ended up in this huge rabbit hole, where this Altmer ordered the Bosmer's head off. I hoped it wouldn't be too much like that story, because I forgot how it ended and couldn't remember whether or not her head got cut off.

I was so immersed in trying to remember the story that when I walked - smack - into a tunnel-y wall, I stood stunned for a few seconds, wondering what happened. And when I remembered that, I also remembered that there was a spell that could make me get healed.

I raised my hand upward in a fist, uncurled it and said 'Heal!'. Blue light spilled forth from you open palm and I immediately felt much better. I did the gesture again and again until I was satisfied enough to throw the make-shift walking-stick away.

I stretched and continued. It felt good, to be walking without a grimy metal bar in my fist, and I went much more quickly than before. Soon enough I had arrived at a metal barred door, a portcullis, which I pushed open with some hesitation. And for a good reason.

As soon as I stepped through the doorway, I heard screams and shouts which carried through the room, which, I saw, looked suspiciously like Ayleid living hall, but which had obviously been through some hard times. Many columns were cracked or bloodstained, and a few were just stumps, with the remainder cast away on the floor.

"There's another one!" yelled a man with heavy armor. He was brandishing a bloody sword and glaring straight at me. He leapt forward at me and was just about to swing his long sword when I cast a fireball at him. He fell back, dead. A gurgled cry startled me, and another man in the same armor took his place.

"You killed Glenroy!" He cried. "You killed the Emperor!"

I froze, unable to blink. The Emperor! Impossible! Why would the Emperor be down here? Why would he be fighting alongside what I thought to be his guards? And in any case, the Emperor's name was certainty not Glenroy. But that meant... that meant that I was fighting with the side that had killed the Emperor. But wait! The Emperor was dead?!

"No! I didn't! I-" But the man cut me off mid-sentence and stabbed his sword through my thigh. I seemed to be on fire, the pain was so intense. So in retaliation I sent a fireball straight at his chest, which engulfed him in flames.

It took only a second to heal myself before walking past the silken-red clad bodies and to a door which seemed to have light pouring from it. Light!

I opened the door, and stepped into the hazy sunset which barely illuminated the ground. I was free!

This post has been edited by Petra Arkanian: Mar 21 2011, 05:46 PM

[Zalphon]

Sounds like the real police.

"I didn't do it, I swear!"

"But we planted evidence..."

"Crap..."

[Petra Arkanian]

Sorry for the wait, I've been a bit busy, as there is an earthquake forecast about the time when the full moon happens, it's supposed to be a 6.0 at least, which is bad, and also my little kitten/cat is pregnant, which leads to many long sleepless nights, so.

Anyway, this one'll be back to reality. Hope you liked the flashback. Also, this one won't be as long as the other two, since those are the longest posts I've ever written; most of my posts from Concerned But Powerless 1 and 2 were very small, so don't expect too much . Yep, this one's really short....

Chapter 3

Lost, lost lost... so prettttttyyyy... but lost...

I wandered dazedly about the clearing, which is really more like a prairie, as I have been wandering for hours, and I still haven't hit the trees. I'm out of water - so thirstyyyy... - and my head feels a bit funny.

I begin to feel a burning heat, coming from seemingly before me, but I am still walking, and though the heat intensifies, I am not on fire, nor have I made any contact with the source. And then someone puts a hand on my shoulder. I whirl around, stagger drunkenly, and fall. So much for my lethal 'touch-me-and-die' pose.

"Whoa, there!" says a voice. I decide it's a male, possibly in his early twenties, who speaks, and rough hands catch me just before I hit the ground. I am picked up and brought to a place with a brighter light, and now a woman speaks.

"Who's this, and what's she doing here?"

"No idea," says the male. "I think she needs water. Look at how dry her lips are."

Someone pours water down my throat, and as I drink it greedily, everything comes into clearer focus.

I am sitting by a campfire, with three people, one of them is hunched over, presumably asleep. The other two are, staring at me with guarded expressions, but their eyes keep flickering to something else... I look, and... it seems to be a fire-y gate, a glowing two-dimensional oval that spit out bursts of fire....

[Petra Arkanian]

So I'm on a computer who's keys are really faded, like I can't see any of the letters on them, and it doesn't have spell-check, so if I accidently say, for example, ypu instead of you, then I DON'T have really bad spelling, just letting you know.

Okay, so since that one was so short, I'm gonna do another one that's a bit longer... Hope you like it.

CHAPTER 3 Continued...

It is morning, and the gate is still here. Glimmer and Drake have explained what it is. It leads to Oblivion, they say, but they won't tell me what Oblivion is. Jessie probably would have, too, if he could, but he won't talk. Whether he can't or just won't remains a mystery to me, but I bet Drake knows. Drake has known Jessie since they met up at some bandit camp, and Drake told Jessie that two boys with each other would survive better than two boys against each other. Must've convinced him, except Jessie looks at Drake like he hates him, but then, he looks at everyone like that.

In any case, I am with them and their little group of monster-fighting teenagers, and they seem to have accepted me into the fold.

"You have useful fighting skills," Glimmer had said.

"And you seem pretty dangerous," added Drake. "We wouldn't want you against us."

And so here I am, bringing out my treenuts and the last bits of venision, which we share, and for a few minutes the only sound is munching and gulping. Finally, Drake finishes and looks up.

"I don't like the looks of the gate," he tells us. "I think we should either go inside and sort it out or we should leave and go far away."

He makes the last part sound like a joke, so I think he wants us to go 'sort things out'.

"What would we be doing in there?" I ask. Glimmer shakes her head, letting her blonde hair fly out behind it as though she hopes to appear to be in a storm.

"You really don't know what's inside an Oblivion Gate?" she asks, exasperated.

I shake my head, feeling defensive, but Drake comes to my rescue.

"How can she? And anyway, you just learned, so don't expect everyone else to know." The he directs his words at me. "An Oblivion gate holds a Sigil Stone, which is guarded by Daedra and Dremora, inside a tower that is on a plane of Oblivion. I've come across a fair few of them - I have them in my pack, I can show you later. Anyway, the way to destroy a Gate is by taking the Sigil Stone."

"That doesn't sound too hard."

"Well... it wouldn't be - if that was all you had to do. The first part is getting inside the tower. On the outside, a lot of things can go wrong. First of all, once in, your health goes down, as well as your strength. And there are spires that shoot gas bombs at you, and there is some really agressive vegetation, and rockfalls, and such."

"So why go in them at all?" I ask.

"Lots of reasons," replies Glimmer vaugely.

"The Sigil Stones are worth a lot. But most would say it's not worth it. You can get hit by a rockslide and then even if you manage to get back to the gate, you can't come out. One of those bad things about gates. Once in, you can't escape except by taking the Sigil stone."

"And we're going in to get one," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Exactly."

[King Coin]

lol, it's good that she's met some people that accept her, but too bad they are not at least a little sane.

[Petra Arkanian]

I don't like sane people, they make me feel crazy

[King Coin]

lol, she does look like she's the most stable out of the bunch... and that's saying something considering what she's been doing.

[Zalphon]

"The Sigil Stones are worth a lot, but some say they're not worth it."

I agree, they're not worth it unless you can reload a save!

[Petra Arkanian]

Okay. So. My cat has had kittens. That's not the worst part. She had them under my bed. That's still not the worst part. She spread blood and stuff on everything I had stuffed under the while I was 'cleaning'. Oops... But that's still not the worst part. The worst part is that her kittens are right under where my head goes. I won't sleep for weeks!

So, another short one, sorry!

CHAPTER 4

"Duck!" yells Drake. Instinctively, I duck, and just in time. A second later, one of those spindly, blood-red plants swings over my back in a close attempt to behead me.

A gas-bomb (or at least, that's what Drake and Glimmer call them) comes flying from behind me and lands to my right with a loud 'FOOOMP!' It explodes and sends a putrid yellow cloud coming my way, which makes me feel nauseous.

"Come on, come on!" yells Drake again. I follow at a run. I am currently in the back of the group. Drake leads, Glimmer is right behind him, and Jessie is right in front of me. He keeps looking back at me, as if to check that I'm still there.

"It's right ahead! The tower, see? The tower!" screams Glimmer, battling with the ferocious wind and the wail of the plants. She points and looks back at us, and trips. Straight into the lava that we were trying to avoid. She's gone before any of us have realized what happened.

“Glimmer!” Drake is staring at the bubbling lava as though he wants to jump in and find Glimmer, but I pull him back.

“She's gone! Jumping in isn't going to help her, or anyone else!” He continues to stare at the spot, but we really need to move on because I can see many spires that are already targeting us, so I slap him hard and say, “snap out of it!”

He does, and just in time, because Jessie is shaking my sleeve and pointing at a small something that is flying towards us. The remaining three of us duck behind a large rock and then run to the tower, which seems farther away than ever.

But we make it. In a few minutes, we are at the large and bloodied gates that almost certainly hold death for at least one of us.

“Follow me, okay?” Drake calls into my ear. I nod, guessing that Jessie has already been here and done that because Jessie seems to know what to do.

Drake and Glimmer had told me what most Daedric Plains looked like, but their imagery in no way prepared me for what I am seeing.

Tall spires with impaled bodies rise from the red and black checkerboard floor. Spears slide in and out of corners, hoping to skewer some unlucky invader. Human hands and fingers are strung about the spiked walls like trophies. And a Dremora comes running at us from some hidden corner.

He roars and flings himself at me, but is beheaded by my ready short-sword immediately.

In truth, I am ready for whatever horrors emerge from this place.

[King Coin]

I wonder if it will soon be just Jessie and... what's her name? did I miss that somewhere?

[Petra Arkanian]

Actually, she doesn't yet have a name to speak of, because I'm still thinking of one...

And I've just had a stroke of brilliant thought... as I was looking on an emo site for 'Awesome Emo Names' I saw...


ALICE.

However. I don't particularly like that name, so I'm changing it to

ALYSS.

That's her name.

It sounds the same, but, you know, spelled differently.

[King Coin]

Actually, she doesn't yet have a name to speak of, because I'm still thinking of one...

And I've just had a stroke of brilliant thought... as I was looking on an emo site for 'Awesome Emo Names' I saw...


ALICE.

However. I don't particularly like that name, so I'm changing it to

ALYSS.

That's her name.

It sounds the same, but, you know, spelled differently.

lol. I know it can be difficult to think of a good name for a character. I'd say it fits.

[Zalphon]

Tall spires with impaled bodies rise from the red and black checkerboard floor.

Description of evil setting, A+!

[Petra Arkanian]

'Nother short one, but it's hopefully the last of its kind. I just had to stop it because the action was going to get too heavy, so.

CHAPTER 5

A blazing-hot ball of fire streams past my left ear, singing my hair slightly and making me feel a little more woozy. I've already taken one to the arm - which I'd healed instantly, erasing the burn, but leaving a throbbing sensation - and I'm not feeling too good. Sadly, this isn't a game where I can just start over after I die, where getting a fireball to the head is nothing to worry about.

But I'll win yet. According to Drake, we're near the top. He hopes.

I hope too. I can't wait to get out of here - the pulsating red light has given me a serious headache, and the scorching heat has given me a red face and a sweaty hand.

I charge another fire-throwing beast with grayish fur, sticking it like a pin with my bloodied sword. It seems that my bow isn't too useful around here - I've barely shot five creatures (though I've gained a lot of nice-looking arrows), and I must have killed at least twenty with my sword.

"Ih 'sup 'head!" pants Drake, as he slides yet another Dremora off his sword. "Ih 'su' 'ed."

I take his badly articulated sentence to mean that we're near the Sigil Stone, and I feel a little better.

Just as he said, a room off to the side of this long corridor we've been traveling seems to be the way to the Keep, because Drake runs into it.

I look just in time to see the trap spring, the arrows fly, and him fall to the ground, bloodied and dead.

I clap a hand to my mouth, stopping the scream. I'm about to start forward to grab Drake, perhaps run through to the Keep, and get out of here, when Jessie grabs my army and shakes his head, clearly sending a message.

It might not have only one load, you can't go in, he's telling me.

Sure enough, a Dremora comes running through, drops when the arrows start peppering his chest.

So we can't go in. We can't get out. I almost wail in despair, but instead begin to trudge off down the long and narrow hall that we've been following for a while. There's another door at the end, and I open it, not caring if I fall to the traps, but there's no click. No arrows. No blood. So I step in, with Jessie close behind me. The door snaps shut, closing us off. We're in a large room, if you can call it that, which I would never connect to the planes of Oblivion. It is lush and green, with a few insects and animals. I don't recognize it, and nor, it seems, does Jessie.