An Argonian's Account, Haa-Rei's adventures in Cyrodiil Options

[hazmick]

haute - You got it. It's one of those quests that will always stick in my mind.

ghastley - Soon.

Acadian - All will be revealed.



Previously - Continuing towards Leyawiin, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe had an encounter with an ogre, where Cirinwe once again demonstrated her growing skills in combat. Once in the city, they met Jötnar, and discovered that something was very wrong...

Chapter 60



Water's Edge is a small settlement that sits on the road north of Leyawiin. A peaceful settlement of farmers and fishermen. Had Cirinwe and I arrived but a day earlier, we would have walked right through a massacre.

The Blackwood Company mercenaries had been operating out of Leyawiin for a short time, but were swiftly becoming more popular than the Fighter's Guild. Blackwoods were cheaper and never turned down a job, no matter how bad the task or the pay might be. At the order of his guild, Jötnar had been tasked with joining Blackwood and finding out their secrets. His first job with them was to help clear Water's Edge of goblins.

"When we arrived, we were given a potion to drink. They said it...they said it was Hist sap to make us fight better." Jötnar paused his tale at the mention of Hist sap, but I nodded for him to continue. There was already a sickening feeling welling up in my stomach.

"The goblins were everywhere, not a single villager in sight, so we got to work and wiped them all out. Once we were done, we pulled out, didn't even stick around to burn the bodies like the guild usually does. On the way back I started feeling dizzy and sat down for a while, the others left me behind like they were in a hurry. I..." The massive Nord's voice shook slightly, so he took a large swig of mead.

"It's alright. Take your time." Cirinwe reached over and took Jötnar’s free hand in one of her own. I saw a brief glow of magicka, most likely a stamina spell to calm the Nord down.

"I decided to head back to the village once the dizziness wore off. When I got there, there wasn't a single goblin corpse. Just dead villagers. Every single one.” Jötnar wretched at the memory, but fought it back and finished his drink.

“Jötnar. Are you able to fight right now?” I asked. He paused for a few moments, then nodded.

“Meet us in front of the Blackwood headquarters in half an hour.” I left without another word, Cirinwe following close behind.

“Explain.” The Altmer said, slowing her long stride to match mine.

“Hist sap. You can’t import it, which means they must have a source here in Leyawiin.”

“A tree? You think it’s connected to that odd feeling you’ve been having?” She caught on quick.

“I hadn’t even considered it. To physically uproot a Hist is…I don’t even have a word to describe it. Then to drink its sap?” I shook my head, as if the thought could be shaken out.

“Don’t Argonians drink the sap?” Cirinwe asked.

“Usually only once, when we first hatch. I’ll explain more later. We’re here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” My companion asked.

“Home. I need some things, come in.” I opened the door to Deeh’s house, half expecting him to be waiting for me, but it was empty. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Leaving Cirinwe in the kitchen, I headed to my bedroom. Once there, I stripped off my armour and gently rested my bow by the window. I retrieved my Legion uniform and sword from the large chest under my bed, and equipped them. My bow wouldn’t be needed, and this would all be official.

Cirinwe grinned when I returned, but didn’t say anything. We quickly made our way to the Blackwood HQ, where Jötnar was waiting. He regarded my uniform for a second and nodded firmly.

After I confirmed that my two companions were ready, we climbed the steps of the building and heaved open the doors. Once inside the doors slammed just behind us, and several members of the company entered the main hall to greet us. All were either Khajiit or Argonians, dressed in decorative heavy armour. Their hands hovered around their sheathed weapons suspiciously. One Khajiit stepped forward:

“This one is Ri’Zakar, Pakseech of the Blackwood Company. Why does the Legion come to us, in the company of a traitor?” The last word was spat at Jötnar.

“I am Legate Haa-Rei. For the production, distribution, and consumption of Hist sap, and for the murder of the residents of Water’s Edge, you are all under arrest.” I said loudly and clearly, hoping that I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt.

The Khajiit barked some orders in his native tongue and the hiss of weapons leaving their scabbards rang through the hall.

“I guess they won’t come quietly.” Jötnar grinned, his spirits apparently lifted by the thought of combat.

Ri’Zakar came at me with his claymore in a very impressive overhead swing, which I easily side-stepped. I slashed at the weak points in his armour, inside the elbow, and his sword clattered to the ground. He attempted to grab me with his uninjured arm, but the heavy plate armour was not conducive to movement and I ducked out of his reach before leaping forward, slamming my sword into his underarm. I felt the chainmail give way to the short, pointed blade of my sword. Pakseech Ri’Zakar’s body hit the wooden floor with a heavy clatter.

To my left, Cirinwe’s axe parted an Argonian’s head from his shoulders, while to my right I could see that Jötnar had already defeated two Blackwood soldiers.

“I’ve got this, you two go!” Jötnar shouted, punching a Khajiit in the face.

I grabbed a heavy key from Ri’Zakar’s belt and headed to the most impressive door I could see. As soon as it opened, the strange feeling in my head was amplified and I staggered into Cirinwe.

“Haa-Rei!” She held me up until I found my feet again.

“We’re in the right place.” I slowly made my way down the stairs, down and down until we emerged into a large room. “By the Hist…” I gasped.

Before us was, indeed, a Hist tree. Its bark was pale and cracked, no leaves adorned its branches, and several metal pipes erupted from the trunk, a steady stream of sticky sap dripping into large containers. Two Argonians rushed to attack us, but they weren’t soldiers, and died quickly.

“What do we do?” Cirinwe asked, staring at the abomination before us.

I stepped forward and carefully placed one hand on the tree. Pain bloomed in my skull as the tree tried to communicate, and I wrenched my hand away. I felt blood running from my nose.

“We can’t save it. We have to…we have to kill it.” Even saying the words was difficult. The idea of killing a Hist…

“How?” Cirinwe asked, though I could tell she had many more questions she was holding back.

“Fire. Fire is the only way.” I rooted around the alchemical supplies in the room until I found some fire salts. After scattering them around the base of the tree, I touched them with a torch. The effect was instantaneous – the salts erupted into flame and caught on the tree immediately. The Hist sap in the containers also caught fire and began to boil. Pain bloomed in my mind again, driving me to one knee. More blood dripped onto the stone floor from my nose and ears. My vision began to blur, my mind reeling.

I felt myself being lifted into the air, and then everything went dark.

[haute ecole rider]

You know, this is my least favorite part of the whole Fighters Guild quest line in Oblivion - the Blackwood Company's imprisonment of the Hist tree.

At the time, I hadn't yet fully appreciated the symbiosis between the Hist, Nirn and the Argonians. That truly did not become apparent until I read the Infernal City and sequels, and especially after playing ESO.

Even so, Julian and I were sickened by the treatment of the Hist tree in the basement. Yes, it was Just A Tree to us, however, it was a living, breathing being (yes, plants do breathe, it's how we are able to breathe), and seeing it shackled and imprisoned like that really bothered us

Somehow you captured that feeling, and put an Argonian twist on it. It makes me even angrier that the Argonians of the Blackwood Company would tolerate such treatment of a being so integral not only to their culture but to their entire species.

This is a wonderful episode on so many levels. Thank you for writing this.

[ghastley]

I've never done that quest with an Argonian character, so I've never had to think about the problems they could have with the tree's demise.

And of course, the developers didn't...

Edit: I just noticed that you skipped the bits where Ja'Fazir has had to lock Jeetum-Ze in his room, and the latter has locked Ri'Zakar in his. Presumably at least one of the two is sufficiently deranged to require that in the vanilla game.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Feb 3 2017, 06:51 PM

[Acadian]

A gut-wrenching backdrop to this episode.

I especially enjoyed how true to themselves that your characters we have come to know were. Ciri nurturingly reached out with her newfound healing touch to soothe Jotnar. Haa-Rei wordlessly and grimly set to the task he knew he had to do. Jotnar’s mood improved notably with combat at hand.

In ESO I’ve gained an appreciation for some of the similarities regarding how Argonians and Bosmer view and interact with the natural world they live in.

Well done!

[hazmick]

haute - Same here, the Infernal City was the first major bit of Hist/Argonian lore that I encountered before ESO came along. Looking back on this quest now really changes my feelings towards it. I'm glad it was as interesting to read as it was for me to write.

ghastley - Yes, it's not quite as deep in the game. I guess that's why fanfics exist. I decided to leave out the "get key from X" parts to save some time, but I'll touch on it later. Drinking Hist sap does indeed have some long term effects on the mind.

Acadian - I had the exact same thought regarding Bosmer and Argonians while exploring Valenwood. Trees are absolutely vital for each race. Glad you enjoyed it!



Previously - After hearing Jötnar's harrowing tale of the Water's Edge massacre and the use of Hist sap, the three friends moved swiftly against the Blackwood mercenaries. Haa-Rei was then forced to destroy their Hist tree, which had been driven mad from months of torture...

Chapter 61



When I awoke, I found myself back in my room at Deeh’s house. My head ached a little but I was otherwise unharmed, and no longer bleeding. My heart felt heavy at the loss of a Hist tree, and I wasn’t completely sure that it was the right thing to do.

“Awake?” a voice asked. I eased myself up in bed and turned to its source, pushing any other thoughts to the back of my mind.

Cirinwe was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, surrounded by the various bits and pieces of her armour that she was busy cleaning.

“Awake.” I confirmed. Cirinwe put the armour to one side and shuffled over to the bed, immediately placing one hand on my brow. One spell pulsed through my body to check for injuries, and then another for healing and pain reduction.

“How do you feel?” doctor Ciri asked, peering into one eye.

“A light headache, but I’m all in one piece.”

“I know that, I meant how do you feel, emotionally.” she finished her medical examination and cupped her hands around my face, turning me so I had to look her in the eyes. She had grown very perceptive.

“I’m…not sure.” her hands were warm, and she smelled slightly of smoke and sweat.

“Oho! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” A voice called out from the doorway, causing Cirinwe to snatch her hands away.

“Deeh.” I greeted my foster father, though in truth I was much more interested in the tray he was carrying. A pot of tea and a selection of snacks. Not to say I wasn’t pleased to see him of course, but…

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you weren’t dead, so I thought you might be hungry.” he grinned, meaning that he had grown tired of standing with a glass to the door. “How is he, Cirinwe?”

“He’s made a full recovery, though I would recommend that he doesn’t do anything heroic for a couple of days.” Cirinwe smiled, pouring some tea first for me and then for herself.

“You two have met?” I asked, taking a tentative sip. Mountain Flower tea, a personal favourite.

“Of course, she introduced herself yesterday after she carried you in here. Not quite how one expects to meet one’s future daughter-in-law but I suppose it can’t be helped.” Deeh chuckled.

“Your dau-” I spluttered, almost choking on my tea.

“Not quite there yet, eh? No matter, no matter, young people have nothing but time.” He grinned again. I could feel my headache returning.

“Thank you for the tea.” I said flatly, indicating that he should change the subject.

“You’re most welcome, hatchling.” He turned to leave, but paused before reaching the door. “If you’re going to stick around for a few days, you could look in on Rosentia Gallenus. Nobody has seen her for a few days, and there are some odd noises coming from her house.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” I agreed, watching Deeh leave.

“Who?” Cirinwe asked, her face still bright red after Deeh’s comment.

“Rosentia Gallenus, she lives in the big house next door. Collects magical curios, and has a very nice library, but she’s not a mage herself as far as I’m aware.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“You’re more than welcome.” I was glad that any talk of emotions had been shelved. Hopefully this would be enough to keep us busy for a short while.

I finished my tea and hopped out of bed, pleased to see that I was still wearing my armour. I decided to keep it on, but switched out the light legion gauntlets and boots for my sturdier treated leather ones. I also retrieved my bow. The Hist wood felt almost alive in my hand, and a lot more comforting than the Blackwood tree.

Cirinwe required assistance with her own gear, which had lots of straps and buckles to keep everything in place. It appeared that the Blackwood Company had ‘donated’ a couple of pieces, their intricate vine pattern looking far better on Cirinwe’s tall frame than they did on an angry Khajiit.

“Where’s your axe?” I asked, noticing its absence.

“I had to drop it to carry you back here, and by the time I went back for it, the basement was inaccessible.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t even imagine how much that axe had cost, and she had become quite proficient with it.

“Don’t worry about it. I brought this back with me instead.” She revealed a very familiar claymore, last seen in the hands of the Blackwood leader as he tried to cut me in half.

It was a beautiful weapon of Elven design. A richly detailed hilt of moonstone held a long, straight blade of fine steel folded with quicksilver. It suited her perfectly, just as my Hist bow suited me. Cirinwe smiled warmly when I told her that.

A few minutes later and we arrived at Rosentia Gallenus’s house, which dwarfed Deeh’s modest home. I couldn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, but I could definitely feel something. Cirinwe held her sword, still sheathed, in one hand to make it easier to draw. I knocked on the heavy wooden door, the sound of someone dropping cutlery echoed within the house.

“Mrs Gallenus? It’s Haa-Rei. Deeh said you might need some help.” I spoke through the keyhole, and after a few seconds the door opened ever so slightly, an Imperial’s eye peeping out through the gap.

“Oh, hello dear, it’s nice to see you.” apparently Rosentia was going to make this difficult.

“You too. This is my friend, Cirinwe. Can we come in?” I gestured to my companion, who bowed her head politely.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m with the Mages Guild.” Cirinwe knew exactly what to say. At the mention of the guild’s name, Rosentia’s eye sparkled.

“The guild? Come in, come in. Quick, quick.” The door opened just enough for us to squeeze through and swiftly slammed shut behind us. The smell of daedric magic was heavy on the air, though the smell of scamp mess was even stronger.

“Mrs Gallenus, what’s going on?” I reached for my bow, but the Imperial woman stopped me.

“That won’t be necessary. Right, where do I begin?” Rosentia sighed heavily, and then began her story.

[ghastley]

Oh dear, he's going to do something heroic, just after he was told not to.

[Acadian]

Like Haa-Rei, I nearly sputtered tea when Deeh referred to Ciri as his 'future daughter-in-law'. What a wonderful stroke to drop such a heavy-handed observation into the otherwise delicate dance of hearts between Scales and Scars! And the reactions from both were priceless. Adorable that their mutually growing affection is to obvious to all but themselves.

I'm so glad that Ciri has a claymore now instead of her old axe.

Uh-oh. Looks and smells like the lady's got a scamp problem. . . .

[haute ecole rider]

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you weren’t dead, so I thought you might be hungry.” he grinned, meaning that he had grown tired of standing with a glass to the door. “How is he, Cirinwe?”

I love this observation of Has-Rei! This sums up Deeh's character so succinctly it told me oodles of this man's character! That for me was the standout. Of course, I'm with Acadian regarding the Daughter-in-Law comment. Classic!

[hazmick]

ghastley - Some people just can't help it.

Acadian - A sword definitely suits Ciri better, and she'll no doubt put it to good use.

haute - Heh, I'm glad you like Deeh. He certainly earns his nickname, but at the same time he always does what's best for Haa-Rei...more or less



Previously - After waking up back at home, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spoke to Deeh. The old Argonian suggested that they look in on Rosentia Gallenus, who's been having some sort of trouble recently...

Chapter 62



“We’re getting some strange looks…” Cirinwe said, nodding to the townsfolk as we passed by. They looked horrified, and more than a little nervous.

“Hardly surprising.” I gestured to the scamps that were following at my heels.

As it turned out, Rosentia Gallenus’s house had become a playground for a group of scamps. Rosentia had purchased a strange staff from a passing adventurer and, after accidentally activating it, found that it was cursed. The curse meant that one could never throw the staff away, and the bearer of the staff would be followed around by four scamps.

The scamps themselves weren’t dangerous, but made a large mess of the Gallenus house. They could not be killed, as the staff seemed to be their point of binding. With help from the Mages Guild, Cirinwe and I learned that the only way to get rid of the staff for good was to take it to a nearby daedric shrine. This was why we now found ourselves walking through Leyawiin with our daedric followers. Fortunately the guards all recognised me, and allowed us to pass without any trouble.

The shrine lay in a cave to the south-east. I’d been there before, but never gone too far in on account of the creatures that resided inside. Unfortunately, with one of my hands now stuck on a staff, all the fighting would be left to Cirinwe.

“Ready?” I asked, nudging one of the scamps out of the way with the staff. They had an annoying habit of always being underfoot, which made my progress particularly slow.

“Ready.” Cirinwe nodded, raising her sword and slowly moving forward.

The scamps and I followed at a safe distance to allow Cirinwe enough room to move freely. The cave branched off in two separate directions, but each path smelled just as bad as the other. We hadn’t gone very far when we encountered our first enemies. Two scamps, larger than our own, warming themselves on a small fire. Cirinwe wasted no time, striding forward and cleaving one of them in two before they knew she was there. The second scamp batted at her with its claws, which had no effect on her heavy armour. It died soon after. I felt utterly useless, but nonetheless enjoyed watching Cirinwe work. Her graceful movements should have been completely at odds with her heavy armour and two-handed sword, but they actually complemented each other perfectly. She was a natural.

After waiting a few moments, Cirinwe moved on. I almost tripped on one of our scamps when it stopped to feed on one of the fallen enemies, but a nudge from the staff got it moving again.


I’d expected more resistance inside a daedric shrine, but after the first two scamps, we only encountered four more and a Clannfear. Cirinwe dealt with them most proficiently, and we reached the shrine itself quite quickly.

The shrine consisted of a raised dais in the centre of a large cavern. Two slabs of stone flanked either side, etched with daedric writing. In between these slabs was an altar and a large statue. I hurried to the altar and put the staff down, relieved to see that I could actually do so. The scamps wandered off without a second glance, apparently happy with their new home.

“Who’s that?” Cirinwe asked, gesturing towards the statue.

It depicted a well-dressed man, with a tidy beard and walking cane. He wore a jolly expression on his face, as if he was very amused by everything.

“Sheogorath.” I answered, bending down to look at some of the daedric script.

“Can you read it?” My Altmer companion asked, taking a seat on the edge of the dais to clean some of the daedric essence from her sword.

“Yes. It says…’everlasting life’.” I chuckled, suddenly the story of the staff became clear.

No doubt someone prayed to Sheogorath, asking him for everlasting life. The Madgod had agreed, and given the poor fool everlasting life…just not their own. Asking something of any daedra is tricky, they will always try and find loopholes to exploit people, but asking something of Sheogorath is particularly dangerous. Most of the stories which I have read about him end poorly for those involved, and always serve to entertain the Lord of Madness.

“Will the staff be safe here?” Cirinwe stood and began to make her way back to the cave.

“It’ll probably be withdrawn to Oblivion, unless a brave adventurer fights their way in here and claims it.” I jogged to catch up, making sure that the scamps weren’t still following me. I made a mental note to never pick up anything magical from a daedric shrine.

We made our way through the cave we’d already cleared, so it was just a short walk back to the entrance. We found 2 treasure chests on the way back, and split the gold between us. We decided to leave anything else we found, just in case.

Once outside, I took a deep breath of fresh air. As soon as I did, I froze.

“What’s wrong?” Cirinwe drew her sword, ready for whatever I’d sensed.

“Are you ready to fight more daedra?” I asked, drawing my bow. The air fizzed and crackled with energy, and everything went deathly silent for a few moments.

Then, with a great tearing and screaming sound, the air began to shift and shimmer. A small spark flashed through the air several metres away, and then erupted in a flash of blinding light. The ground around it burst into flame. I grabbed Cirinwe and pulled her back into the cave as a wave of heat washed over us. We stayed there for a few moments, until the sound and light died down a bit.

“What…” Cirinwe began to ask, but stopped when we stepped out of cover. A large arch of rocks had appeared, holding together a roaring portal of fire.

“That is an Oblivion Gate.” I recognised the look on Cirinwe’s face – a mixture of fear and curiosity that I was also feeling.

We stood in silence for a few moments, watching the swirling flame. Fortunately it didn’t seem to be spitting out any daedra just yet, but I had no doubts that it soon would. I felt Cirinwe’s hand brush against my own, her fingers intertwining with mine.

“How do we close it?” She asked, her eyes fixed on the portal.

“From inside.” I answered, squeezing her hand.

“I was afraid you’d say that.” She smiled nervously, resting her sword on one shoulder.

“We’ll be fine, I’ve done this before.” I grinned, stepping forward and leading her through the portal.

Here we go again.

[Acadian]

I really admire your skill during the opening scene here as you, with an expert economy of words, show us what is going on.

Ugh. Sheogorath. Scamps begone!

Your description of an Oblivion Gate opening as Scales and Scars exited the dungeon was magnificent as you so perfectly captured the terrifying event.

Gulp!

[ghastley]

And he's doing it again ... again!

Doesn't he know how the game mechanics work? If you close one at this stage, another will open.

[hazmick]

Acadian - Thank you! A fun little side quest. Only Sheogorath would make such a powerful artifact for a practical joke.

ghastley - Someone else can handle the other gates, there are adventurers everywhere these days!



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe returned the Staff of Everscamp to Sheogorath's Shrine on behalf of Rosentia Gallenus. Oblivion was not done with them yet, however, as an Oblivion gate opened up right outside the cave. Hand in hand, the two adventurers journeyed to the deadlands...

Chapter 63



“So, this is Oblivion…” Cirinwe said as we emerged from the gate.

“It is.” I confirmed, scanning the immediate area for threats.

The gate was located on a small, rocky island in the middle of a vast sea of lava. The sea stretched to the horizon in almost every direction, flame atronachs dancing through the molten waves. Ahead of us was a second, larger island upon which sat a single tower of twisted metal.

“Now what?” Cirinwe asked. Her brow was already beaded with sweat, the heat from the sea was incredible.

“We need to find the sigil stone. It’ll most likely be in that tower.” I nodded towards the structure, but I could see no way to reach it. Did the daedra use boats?

“How do the daedra plan to attack through the gate if they can’t reach it themselves?” Cirinwe astutely observed. Either the daedra had no control over their portal placement (somewhat likely) or they had another way to reach it (most likely).

It was a Clannfear that answered our question. A scrabbling noise to our left announced the creature’s arrival…from underground. It died almost immediately after surfacing, an arrow in its flank. An entrance had been hidden behind some rocks, no doubt we would have never found it without daedric assistance.

The entrance led to a narrow tunnel, which required us to crouch through, and eventually opened up into a large, dark chamber. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but once they did I could see quite clearly. A gasp from behind indicated that Cirinwe could too.

“Haa-Rei, they’re…” she trailed off, gazing at the dozens of small alcoves that were hewn into the walls. Every single one was occupied by a Clannfear, curled into a tight ball with their shield-like heads protecting them.

“Sleeping, yes. Best we not wake them.” I whispered, gesturing for Cirinwe to follow.

The chamber led to a large corridor, which seemed to go in a more-or-less perfectly straight line in front of us. On either side there were numerous smaller side passages, no doubt containing more chambers. There could have been thousands of sleeping Clannfear all around us.

We moved slowly and quietly so as not to wake anyone, and kept heading down the main corridor. We were directly beneath the lava sea, the heat pressing down on us from all directions. Every so often a crack in the wall would reveal bubbling streams of molten rock, or belch out gouts of thick fumes.

Cirinwe was dripping with sweat, and looked as if she might collapse at any moment, but refused to rest. Eventually, after an hour or two of walking, the air began to cool down and the walls of the tunnel became smoother. Carvings and decorations began to appear, indicating some aspect of civilisation.

“We’re past the sea.” I whispered, taking a seat on the edge of a large blood fountain. I dug around in my pack until I found some water and took a long drink. Cirinwe did the same, and poured some over her face and neck. Once she was ready, we moved on.

The temperature dropped quite rapidly as we moved away from the sea, going from one extreme to another, but Cirinwe didn’t seem to mind the cold quite so much as the heat. The tunnel had begun to curve upward very gradually, and we soon found ourselves outside a small door. The guardians at the door, two scamps, fell quickly and quietly.

The door opened into a large, round room. In the centre was a familiar pillar of howling light, atop which we would find the sigil stone. Cirinwe led the way up the tower’s winding stairs, throwing off several daedra as we moved from room to room. I made sure to prioritise anything with ranged attacks, and we made swift progress. We paused for a rest about halfway up.

“The Deadlands…is a lot livelier than one would have assumed.” Cirinwe smiled, taking another drink from her water skin. Her face and hair were covered in soot, grime, and daedric viscera. She looked beautiful.

“Well I just hope that-“ whatever wry quip I was going to say was lost to Oblivion as an odd feeling came over me. It felt like…

“I knew it!” A voice piped up from behind me, and Cirinwe sprang forward with sword in hand.

“Ciri, wait!” I moved quicker, standing between Cirinwe and the small flame atronach. “It’s alright, she’s…a friend.”

“Hello!” the atronach said to Cirinwe over my shoulder, “My name is Eithne, pleased to meet you.”

“Erm…likewise. I’m Cirinwe.” Cirinwe looked a little unsure, but seemed willing to trust this strange creature as long as I was.

“How…what...” I was utterly speechless. She looked smaller than usual, but floating before us was my flame atronach, Eithne, who had been lost to me on my previous trip to Oblivion.

“No time, Master, I’ll explain later. You need to close the gate, quick quick.” Eithne pirouetted a few times to illustrate haste.

“Why the urgency?” Cirinwe asked, relaxing her stance.

“The daedra are mobilising to go through the gate soon.” The flame atronach didn’t wait for a reply, and began heading towards the stairs, followed closely by Cirinwe. I collected my jaw from where it had dropped and hurried after them.

Our progress was even faster with Eithne acting as a fire shield. Any attack from scamps or other flame atronachs was immediately intercepted and absorbed. Thankfully the daedra hadn’t expected anyone to get this far, and the final chamber was mostly unguarded. The sigil stone sat atop its light pillar, glowing fiercely.

“What will happen to you this time?” I asked Eithne when we reached the stone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you. Quickly now, get the stone. Make sure you’re both touching each other or one might get left behind.” Eithne placed one hand on the stone, and gestured for me to do the same.

I turned to Cirinwe, who took one of my hands in her own and nodded. I grabbed the stone and heaved it from its pedestal. White light filled my vision, I felt Cirinwe’s grip tighten, and then…the two of us were back in Tamriel.

[ghastley]

I never did quite determine the "rules" for who comes back out of a closing gate. The game gives us Farwil and Semyan, who emerge from the Cheydinhal gate, if you're tolerant. But there's also Menien, so it's not just who's still alive, although it could be ...

And then "the two of us were back in Tamriel" and not three.

[Acadian]

I loved your depiction of the ominously sleeping clannfears. It conjured the same impending doom that those sleeping metal constructs do when in dwemer ruins.

'Cirinwe smiled, taking another drink from her water skin. Her face and hair were covered in soot, grime, and daedric viscera. She looked beautiful.' - - Aww.

I was pleased to see you use the same convention that I use in Buffy fiction about who gets out of a gate – anyone connected to the sigil stone when it is removed. Even if the game doesn’t necessarily do exactly this.

Like ghastley, I wonder now about dear little long-lost Eithne? Hope she made it – perhaps as a spirit within Haa-Rei?

[hazmick]

ghastley - Yes, the game is rather vague on that. I went with the "you have to be touching the stone" angle just to be safe, but it's certainly interesting to consider the implications of other gate rules.

Acadian - Haa-Rei is nowhere near the spiritcatcher that Buffy is! I'm not sure the werewolf spirit would want to share with anyone anyway.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe journeyed to Oblivion, and after fighting their way through many daedra and being reunited with long-lost Eithne, retrieved the sigil stone and appeared back in Tamriel...

Chapter 64



Cirinwe slumped heavily to the ground, lying on her back to catch her breath. At first we simply stared at each other in silence, until she suddenly started to laugh. I could understand the feeling – we’d just fought our way through a horde of daedra and closed an oblivion gate, and we were very much alive.

“That was…”she paused, trying to think of an appropriate word.

“Heroic? Dramatic? Exhausting?” I offered.

“Yes.” she replied, sitting up and taking a deep breath. “Wait…where’s the atronach?”

Eithne hadn’t appeared back in Tamriel with us, but I knew where she was. I still had the sigil stone in my hand, and I could feel her essence within.

“She bound part of herself to the stone, to make sure she didn’t get trapped again. It shouldn’t be too hard to…” I focused my magicka on the stone and cast the summoning spell. A whoosh of energy heralded Eithne’s arrival.

“Ah, that’s much better. Thank you, Master.” Eithne somersaulted happily, no doubt pleased to be free of any restraints for the first time in a while. She stretched her arms, the lithe movements reminded me of a cat.

“It’s good to see you again, Eithne. Can you tell me what happened now?”

“Of course, of course. The last time we saw each other, you were grabbing a sigil stone while I valiantly held back some dremora, yes? Well they weren’t too happy about it, and managed to rebind my energy before I could leave.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” I frowned. I’d always considered my summons to be a reliable safety net, but if even they are in danger from Oblivion…

“It takes a being of significant power to do it. We were just unlucky enough to run into the lord of that particular area. He later trapped me in that second sigil stone, hoping that he could force me to defend it.”

“…but you didn’t.” pointed out Cirinwe.

“At first I did, but after studying the stone for a while, I figured out how it worked and managed to loosen my shackles. Thanks to your timely rescue, I’m free again and bound to you.”

“That’s a relief. Can I safely de-summon you now?”

“Oh yes, it’s quite safe. No more Deadlands though, yes?”

“Agreed. See you later, Eithne.” I raised one hand to de-summon her and waved goodbye with the other.

I walked over to Cirinwe and sat down beside her, my limbs aching from all the exertion of the last few hours. We sat in silence for a while as life gradually returned to the area. Birds returned to their songs, a lone rabbit moved from cover to cover in its hunt for food, and in the distance a dreugh fished for mudcrabs by a small stream. The only suggestion that anything had been amiss was the black stone arch of the Oblivion Gate, now quiet and cold.

“That was terrifying…” Cirinwe said after a while, “but at the same time, quite exciting. We were actually in Oblivion….it’s amazing.” She smiled again, looking a touch exhausted.

“We’ll make an adventurer of you yet.” I chuckled, climbing to my feet. I helped Cirinwe up and together we headed back to Lleyawiin.

The town was as quiet as ever. Nobody seemed to have noticed the daedric portal popping up outside, though that may well be for the best. We headed straight for Deeh’s house, where Cirinwe immediately readied herself a bath. I took a seat in the main room to right a brief report to the Blades, concerning recent events in Leyawiin – The Hist, the gate, and any rumours I’d heard. After sealing the letter, I made myself some tea and relaxed in my chair, listening to Cirinwe as she sang quietly to herself. The words of the song were in Elvish, which I did not speak, but her voice was breathtaking.

“Beautiful.” remarked Deeh, who had just arrived.

“Yes” I agreed.

“She’s a nice person too.”

“Yes.”

“and strong.”

“Yes.”

“and intelligent.”

“Yes.”

“I’m happy for you.” Deeh smiled.

“Hm?” I had only been half paying attention to him, but I heard the last part loud and clear.

“You and Cirinwe.” he clarified. “You make a good couple.”

“I…we’re not…”

“You sure?” I raised a brow, but I had no answer. Are we? How does one know? Should I ask her for clarification?

“Ah, hello Deeh.” Cirinwe greeted the old Argonian with a smile as she emerged from the bathroom, hopefully she hadn't overheard anything.

She was wearing a baggy pair of breeches and an oversized shirt, a towel in one hand as she attempted to dry her long hair, which reached down to her waist when not tied up. Without her armour on I could see the clear definition of the muscles on her arms, and realised just how much her physical fitness had come along since she first picked up a sword.

“Hello my dear. Tea?” Deeh framed it as a question, but had already began pouring her a cup. No doubt a habit he had developed after raising me for so many years.

“Thank you.” Cirinwe took a sip as she seated herself by the fire.

“You have a beautiful signing voice, by the way.” Deeh said casually, causing Cirinwe’s face to turn beet red.

“...thank you.” Cirinwe replied quietly, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh, by the way Deeh,” I began, moving the conversation to a subject that didn’t make Cirinwe so embarrassed, “we solved Rosentia Gallenus’s problem.”

“Ah, now this sounds like a tale I’ll want to hear.” Deeh sat up straight in his chair, ever the one for gossip. Cirinwe sent a glance my way to show her appreciation.

And so I began recounting recent events, and after recovering from her embarrassment, Cirinwe fell into the conversation too, and I let her take over the telling of it. We left out the part with the Oblivion gate, for obvious reasons. I’ve never been one for much talking, but as long as Cirinwe was there I could talk until the rivers ran dry. Or the tea, in this case.

[ghastley]

tl:dr Tea solves everything.

[Acadian]

I was so pleased that dear Eithne made it back and enjoyed the imagination you used in doing so.

Hee! Another elf with a beautiful singing voice, it seems!

Loved the gentle ‘nudges’ Deeh gave the reluctant (oblivious?) Haa-Rei regarding Ciri.

Yes, hot tea is good.

As ever, this is such a wonderful story to curl up with and enjoy.

[hazmick]

ghastley - Yep, that pretty much sums up 90% of the story

Acadian - There'll certainly be more Eithne at some point, and more tea.



Previously - After arriving safely back in Tamriel, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe spoke with Eithne about her recent time in Oblivion. Afterwards, the pair returned to Leyawiin to catch up with Deeh.

Chapter 65



After hearing the tale of our recent adventures, Deeh bid Cirinwe and I a good evening and headed to the tavern, as is his custom on a Fredas night. Once alone, Cirinwe had several questions about recent events.

“Ask away.” I said, pouring myself another cup of tea.

“The Blackwood’s Hist tree. What was wrong with it?”

“Well…in Black Marsh, all Hist trees linked together. They talk to each other, and can see what’s happening in every corner of the Marsh all at once. This tree had been torn away from that, and placed in a basement. No sun, no soil, no fresh water, nobody to talk to. On top of that, its sap was being physically drained from its body.”

“So…it was sick? Was that why the sap made them act…the way they did?”

“Hist sap isn’t just sap. When an Argonian is born, they drink the sap and physically link themselves to the Hist, and are imbued with the collective knowledge of all Argonians before them. Then when an Argonian dies, their soul returns to the Hist and their memories are passed on to the next generation through the sap. For anyone to drink that, let alone non-Argonians, will take its toll.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Hist sap is…sort of like the distilled essence of every Argonian soul that has ever existed, or will ever exist. To take it from a Hist tree like the Blackwoods did, and then to use it as a fortifying tonic?” I shook my head. There was no word for how disgusted it made me feel.

“Then I’m glad we stopped them.” Cirinwe paused for a few moments to absorb the information before pressing on, “When the Hist tree…died…what happened to you?”

“That odd feeling I’d been having…that was the tree trying to communicate. Its thoughts were all confused and jumbled so I didn’t understand, but it was still communicating when it died. It shared its pain with me, unknowingly. It felt like my blood was boiling in my veins, being burned from the inside out.” I could only vaguely remember the feeling, but even the memory made me feel uncomfortable. Cirinwe subconsciously rubbed her scarred face.

“I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for prying. I just…want to understand more.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to answer whatever questions you have.”

“I have more I want to ask, but…they can wait for another time.” her sentence was interrupted by a yawn. We’d been very busy recently, and it was getting late.

“Sure. I’ll get the spare room set up for you.” It was technically Amusei’s room, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind.

“Actually…I thought I’d just sleep in your bed.” Cirinwe’s bright red face was at odds with her assertive tone.

“My…with me? In the same…I don’t….” I had several things I wanted to say, but they all tumbled out at the same time.

“I know you don’t have any interest in…the physical aspects of a relationship…but I’m very fond of you. I want to spend time with you, and be close to you, and I think you feel the same way…hopefully” Cirinwe moved closer, and took my hands in her own. We were both shaking slightly.

“I…am very fond of you too.” I said. For a few moments we stood silently, and then I made the mistake of looking Cirinwe in the eye. We burst into laughter.

“We’re not very good at this, are we?” Cirinwe smiled, the laughter washing away any embarrassment. She leaned down to touch her forehead to mine, her face was warm and her sweet scent filled my nose.

“I think…we work well together.” I felt comfortable, and content. I could feel Cirinwe’s muscular arms wrap around my shoulders, and wanted to stay like that forever.



“Morning.” Deeh grumbled when I shuffled into the kitchen the next day. He was slumped on the table, resting his head gently in his hands. A hangover, no doubt.

I made a vague noise in greeting, and took a seat next to Cirinwe, who had awoken long before me. It was cold, and I was taking a long time to fully wake up.

“You two certainly aren’t morning people.” Cirinwe laughed, pouring us all some tea.

“Oh, how cruel. Mocking this poor old lizard while he’s in such a state.” Deeh wailed dramatically.

“I’m guessing you won’t be going to the market today then.” I asked, taking a long sip of tea. Warmth spread through my chest, and I began to feel a little more alive.

“I’m afraid not, my boy. If I move from this position, my head may very well fall off.”

“What a shame that would be.” I finished my tea and stretched, my joints starting to loosen up. “I suppose I’ll have to go.”

“I’ll join you.” Cirinwe smiled, tying her hair up into the usual ponytail.

The two of us left Deeh to nurse his hangover and headed into town. Loredas was the busiest day of the week, since it was the day that many traders set up stalls in the market. Butchers, bakers, grocers, armourers – everyone was out and about. Many people stopped to chat with neighbours that they might not see during the week, catching up on any recent gossip. I was glad to spot Rosentia Gallenus in the crowd, who waved politely to Cirinwe and I.

“Where should we go first?” Cirinwe asked, her height allowing her a good view of the entire market.

“We’ll start with the butcher, and work around from there.” I moved my hands in a sweeping motion to illustrate the battle plan.

Shopping was much easier with an extra pair of hands. Especially when those hands were stronger than mine, and thus able to carry more. We managed to finish quite quickly, and took a seat on a bench for a bite to eat. A nearby fried food stall had caught Cirinwe’s attention, so we’d paid it a visit. The meal was a simple bowl of fried meat and vegetables, but it was warm, filling, and delicious.

“That’s odd.” Cirinwe said suddenly.

“Hm?” my mouth was full, so I had to make inquiries with a raised brow.

“There’s a note in my pocket. Someone must have slipped it in while we were walking around.” Cirinwe produced a square of folded parchment, setting down her food to get a better look.

On unfolding, the parchment revealed itself to be a map, indicating a location to the south of town. I knew the location, some sunken ruins on the coast. What intrigued me was the scent that clung faintly to the parchment.

“Strange.” I muttered.

“Oh?”

“It’s a familiar scent. Nightshade perfume, old stone…”

Trivea.

[Acadian]

Another delightful interlude. Great job allowing Haa-Rei to explain to Ciri (and us) more about the nature of how the Hist relates to Argonians. Through the tree are passed the species/racial memories. I should think this allows hatchlings – like wolves – to start life with a significant advantage that men and mer lack: instincts.

Scars and Scales continue to grow closer. Haa-Rei has just gained the advantage of a nice way to keep his body temperature up through the night via proximity to Ciri.

I loved their lazily lingering day of shopping as well.

And, a mysterious map heralding a new adventure?

[ghastley]

Haa-Rei has just gained the advantage of a nice way to keep his body temperature up through the night via proximity to Ciri.

And it's not mutually exclusive with a pot of warming tea. Especially if she learns to brew one properly.

Trivea, however, probably lowers the blood temperature.