Note: The reason I got all these on the forum so fast is not because I stole someone elses, but because I have posted it on other forums. Hope you enjoy my story!
Part 1 Chapter 1: An odd encounter
Vanir trudged through the swamp. In his early days as a mere Trooper, he was trained to learn the terrain and enviorment quickly. The first month he had plenty of trouble, but now he was used to it and easily (or the closest thing you could call easily. He wore a full suit of Templar armor with a Templar skirt that came to his mid-shin. That was what caused him so much trouble, but he was too used to the weight of it to let it go. He had his Imperial Shield and Ebony Spear slung on his back, and an Imperial Broadsword at his waist. He had three men with him. One wore the recruit chain armor of the Imperial legion, the other two wore Imperial Watch armor from Cyrodill. They had been marching for about a month. He saw a light ahead though. Closer up, he heard voices. He couldnt recognize the races, so he didnt know whether they were slavers, locals, or something else. There was a fire going, and he saw one, a Kajiit by the ear outlines, drinking merrily. He approached them, attempting not to startle them and cause them to draw weapons.
"What are you doing out here. Yes, you, Kajiit. Speak quickly!"
Sylvestor jumped quickly to his feet and turned sharply, there were several guards standing at the edge of the clearing, he could only guess them as guards by their armor. Slightly irritated by the intrusion on this money-making escapade he decided he could always try to slit their throats if they got any closer.
"Me? What business do you have here?.. Tell me and I might decided to spare your life"
Vanir raised an eyebrow, "What is your name, and what makes you think you can threaten the Knight of the Imperial Dragon?"
Sylvestor gave a small growl and bared his teeth. "I stopped caring what i said to anyone a long time ago, tell me why your here or i'll have three different blades and poisons in your stomach before you can blink". Sylvestor brought three elven daggers out from his belt and held them so the firelight reflected off their surfaces. Vanir motioned, and the three soldiers loaded crossbows and aimed them toward Sylvestor. Vanir Drew his sword.
"First of all, campaigns inside Ghostgate have taught me reflexes. Those wont make it halfway to me before I raise my shield. Secondly, if you fire, my men will turn you into a pincushion in an instant. I'm not here to arrest you, nor to kill you, unless it need be. I just ask why a Kajiit is in the middle of Black Marsh drinking merrily, which, by the way, is a bad idea. The slavers are getting more hostile by the day." Vanir took a split second to think over what he just said (which was too long for a general), and tried to look less hostile. Sylvestor sheathed his blades and took a few steps backwards. "I drink because there is nothing better to do with my life. No slaver in all of tamriel is a match for me, I'd have them dead before they knew i existed. Now that you know what I'm doing here, you tell me and i might be able to help you in some way or another" Sylvestor motioned to empty seats around the fire and brough out some of his best wine, pouring small glasses for each soldier. Vanir almost chuckled. "You sound like a Nord when you say that. Ok, now listen carefully. My men and I have been tracking a band of slavers that took Dunmer to Black Marsh. They took their own kin and ran from us! I had two more with me, but they were killed by the slavers in the initial escape. They left behind some supplies at a camp, and we learned that they were headed to Gideon.That's our story. As for the drinks, I'll pass." He sat down by the fire and removed his helmet. Without the helmet shadowing part of his face. The light of the fire glanced across his face, revealing a scar coming from his forehead across his right eye to his chin. He took out the map he was using and showed it to Sylvestor. They had began chasing the slavers in a cave around Seyda Neen, a small port village along the Bitter Coast of Vvarvenfell. Sylvestor stared at the map.. he recognized the trail the slavers were following, he didn't know how, but there was something oddly familiar about it. "I'll join your company if you allow me. It will be a nice change from the garbage i've spent the last three days with."
"As long as you know the way around, I'm fine with that. You seem to have more combat experience than any of these men. We could use your help, if your up to a little bloodshed." Vanir got up. He put the helmet on, slung his shield over his back, and ordered the men to get up. Putting the map away, he pulled Sylvestor aside, out of earshot of the others.
"I told you what I told the others, including the soldiers. Now I'll tell you what I didnt tell the others. One of the slaves is my daughter, and I'm asking you personally for help to get her back. Your motions are more agile than any assassin or thief I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of them. You're the kind that can kill anyone within a blink of the eye. You're the kind of help I need. Now, if it helps, I can order my men to go back to Morrowind. They'll be only too happy to oblige. It will speed us up, but that's three less people to carry supplies. You dont seem to have anything better to do, so what do you say?
Sylvestor couldn't help but smile at these compliments but yet he felt his heart sink at hearing of Vanir's daughter's trouble. "I'll go with you, and i'll kill anyone that gets in the way of us and your daughter. Tell your soldiers to go home, they're no asset to his mission, only a few more unecessary liabilities". Sylvestor packed his few belongings into his sack among which were a bed roll and an assortment of potions and poisons. "let's go now, there's no time to be wasted"Vanir packed away his equipment, a bedroll, and made sure his ring was still there.
"Men!" The soldiers stood at attention in their superior's prescence," you can go back home to Fort Hawkmoth. I'm continuing on after the slavers alone. It was good working with you". The Dunmer glanced over to see if Sylvestor was ready. He knew the journey would be long and dangerous. He knew they were going to be different from his campaigns inside Ghostgate. This was no longer the mountain of Blight. He was in the most dangerous province in the Empire. Sylvestor watched as the Soldiers, with looks of relief on their faces, slowly started going back the way they came. Obviously they were immensely pleased with the chance to go home. "This is going to be a long trip, make sure you have plenty of arrows for hunting." He, himself had an elven bow with a large supply of elven arrows. He stood and started towards the edge of the camp when he realized he had forgotten something very important, he dived back into his tent and grabbed his old dark brotherhood suit, being sure to hide it from Vanir, he knew he wouldn't be able to hide it forever, but for now, he would keep his past to himself.
Part 2 Chapter 2: Bandits and Heirlooms
Vanir bathed in the sunlight. He sat with his daughter and wife next to him
in Seyda Neen. He was teaching them how to fish. He enjoyed having time with his family, as he hadnt had much time to when he was doing work for the superior officers in the Legion. Now that he was the superior, and nothing was going on, he could be at peace. His thoughts were lost in the calm, deep waves when he heard a shriek of delight. His daughter, around the age of 14, pulled a small slaughterfish onto the shore. His wife, Indrilas, reached for it when it flopped 2 feet into the air. She fell backwards onto the grass. They all laughed. Suddenly, his wife quieted. An Imperial Guard in chain armor beckoned Vanir over. He patted his daughter, Indalse, on the head and walked over to the guard...
Vanir turned his attention back to the task at hand. He followed closely behind Sylvestor, who was the faster of the two. They had traveled about seven miles from the camp since they left, and both were still full of energy. Vanir was beginning to notice something about the Kajiit. Whenever he looked into those eyes, he saw that Sylvestor was troubled by something. He kept the thoughts to himself for now, and kept trudging along. He made sure that the ring was still there, and thought of his wife. He would return someday, with his daughter. Perhaps even with a new friend. He couldnt imagine Sylvestor living in Seyda Neen, though. Judging by the hostility to the Imperial soldiers earlier, he wouldnt like living in an Imperial port. Sylvestor, although having walked for miles upon miles did not yet tire, though by throwing a few backwards glances over his shoulder he could see that Vanir was struggling in his heavy set of armor, "You know, we could find you a light suit of armor, and i could probably teach you a thing or two about it" It took a minute for Vanir to register he said something and Sylvestor could tell his thoughts were on his family. Sylvestor never knew his family and didn't feel any worse for the absence of one. He was meant to be alone, although he was extremely pleased with his new friend from Seyda Neen. *The sun started to rise over the horizon casting a pinkish glow on all their surroundings.* "This armor was my father's before me. I can't just toss it away. Besides, I was specially trained to be able to campaign for a long time in this armor. I'll be fine, I just wont be quite as fast as you." Vanir replied. "Thanks for the offer, though." He looked around. The enviorment reminded him of the Bitter Coast region, which he was from. The swamps, the overhanging vines, it all was there. Having just noticed this, he remembered that years of hunting for his family taught him to move more in the terrain. With this renewed knowledge, he found it easier to keep pace.
He returned to the area where his wife and daughter were, his smile gone. Indalse saw his frown and wondered what was going on. Indrilas knew immediately what was happening. He was being called back out to lead his men into battle. She was always worried when he was away. There was that deep fear that he would never return, that a soldier would come with a letter to alert her of his death. He was well known as a tough and determined leader by his men, but no man or mer was invincible. Every day he was out there could be the day he died. Tears filled her eyes. She got up, walked over to Vanir, and he turned and embraced her. They were together for a long time, perhaps a full hour. When they finally came apart, Indalse had been explained what was going on by Arille, who was nearby at the time. He tried to comfort her while the other two were alone. When he went in to get his armor, Arille spoke to Indrilas.
"He'll be back. He's a seasoned warrior, and knows how to survive." He patted her on the back.
"But we never know. Nobody, exept perhaps the Tribunal and the Nerevarine, knows what's behind the Ghostfence." He returned at this time, fully armed. He hugged and kissed Indalse, walked up to the Silt Strider, and took one last look at his family and friends. He wouldn't be back for some time.
"I understand.. family heirlooms must mean a lot, I wouldn't know of course." Sylvestor stopped abruptly trying to stay away from any personal conversation. "You may not need my help with light armor.. but i've got to say, I'm not as good with swords as i'd like to be, i'm fast.. but just not strong enough for some. How about each night before we hit the sack we'll spar a li-" Sylvestor was cut off by a sudden rustling in the plant life next to their 'trail'. He crouched quickly but not quick enough, an arrow grazed his ear just enough to send pain surging through his head. he instinctively reached for two daggers and readied himself for a fight. "Come on out you filthy cowards, you probably outnumber us, the odds are against us. Come out and fight like men" Vanir decided to draw his combat knife that was thrust into his boot instead of his spear or sword. He flipped it over and caught it on the blade side, ready to throw it.
"Come out you cowards, before I have to burn you out!" He knew enough about destruction to light the trees and "bushes" the hostiles were hiding in on fire.
"Sylvestor," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "drop to the ground, and start crawling towards the hiding spot. I have spotted two of them. One is in that branch [he pointed to a large branch above/in front of them]. Thats the one that shot at you. The other(s) is hiding in that bush down below the tree canopy. I'll throw my knife towards the high one, and let you have the pleasure of dispatching the other two. Tell me if you have any other ideas. By the way, I'm not the best knife thrower, so I poisoned this blade with paralysis in case I dont hit a vital spot," he tried to keep the attackers from suspecting something by waving his knife around like he was looking for them, " If you disagree with my plan, just let me know. But quickly, the above one is getting impatient. He's nocking an arrow... Damn!" He hit the ground and felt the arrow run past his arm. Sylvestor replied, trying to move his lips very little "i don't have anything better.. let's do it" he started to army crawl towards the bushes, sure that the attackers could not see him due to the high plant-growth. He nearly ran into one of them before he knew he was there, he quickly got his dagger and thrust it into the thigh, an immoblizing move, the unknown man dropped to the ground and Sylvestor quickly finished the job with a quick slice across the neck. This caused quite a bit of noise and another bandit was on him in seconds. they wrestled across the ground when his opponent suddenly went limp. Vanir must have finished with the guy in the tree. "thanks.. he had a good choke hold on me." The pair quickly recovered from the fight and started looting the bodies for any help they could find. Vanir pulled his knife out of the man's back, sheathing it securely along his boot. He looked around. Three men lay dead around them. One was either an Imperial or Breton, one was a Nord, and the other was an Imperial. They didnt have anything useful on them, so he got ready to continue. He scanned over the bodies once more. His gaze fell onto the Nord. He recognized it as a slaver. It was the one who killed the other men! He took an arrow from the quiver, took the bow, and shot it right into the face of the Nord. He wiped the blood off his armor and left the bow and arrows. Sylvestor looked surprised, so he explained it and they got ready to continue. He was more determined than ever to see Indalse. They began running once again. He looked at the ring once more. It was the thing that gave him hope of seeing his daughter again. He looked toward Sylvestor, who was ready to run. It surprised him to see that Sylvestor didnt look the least bit fatigued.
Part 1 Chapter 3: Camp
Vanir pulled his knife out of the man's back, sheathing it securely along his boot. He looked around. Three men lay dead around them. One was either an Imperial or Breton, one was a Nord, and the other was an Imperial. They didnt have anything useful on them, so he got ready to continue. He scanned over the bodies once more. His gaze fell onto the Nord. He recognized it as a slaver. It was the one who killed the other men! He took an arrow from the quiver, took the bow, and shot it right into the face of the Nord. He wiped the blood off his armor and left the bow and arrows. Sylvestor looked surprised, so he explained it and they got ready to continue. He was more determined than ever to see Indalse. They began running once again. He looked at the ring once more. It was the thing that gave him hope of seeing his daughter again. He looked toward Sylvestor, who was ready to run. It surprised him to see that Sylvestor didnt look the least bit fatigued.
The wind blew coldly onto them. No blight or ash storms were present, nor would they be present for the next few days. It looked like they got lucky. Vanir walked down the front line of men, all with spears and shields ready. Each one greeted him with either a nod or "General". He could see the worry in their faces. It would be a tough battle. When the last of the soldiers were ready, he observed the grand sight. Three hundred Legionnaires, mostly made up of Imperials, Orcs, and Nords, with a few Dunmer and Redguards also present, stood ready for whatever came to meet them in battle. Of all the things of being a general, the part that was hardest wasnt surviving the battles, inspiring the men, making battle plans, or setting up the supplies. It was leading his men to their possible deaths. He risked all of their lives in battle by leading them into it. They were not ready to face Ash Zombies, Sixth house priests, and Corpus beasts. They outnumbered the legionnaires three to one. With a few mercenaries hired from the Fighter's Guild, and some Bouyot Armigers, their army was in for a tough fight even with those allies. Suddenly, they heard a clamor. From the foretress of Kogoruhn, waves of enemies taunted the Legion. Oh yes, this would be hard. All the training, all the hunting, all the campaigning wouldnt have prepared him for what was in store for him...
As soon as they started walking again Sylvestor could guess where Vanir's thoughts were turning; family. He asked himself how anyone could love another so much, all his life he had only felt hate towards everyone he met, exception of course being Vanir, his first real friend, Or at least he liked to consider him that. He marveled at what a few hours of truding through a swamp and fighting a small-scale battle together could do to build a friendship. "It's nearing noon, let's stop now and we can throw together a quick meal" he hadn't realized how hungry he was until now; his last full meal being a few hours before him and Vanir had first met. He saw lines of worry appear on Vanir's face as he thought of losing the trail of his daughter's enslaver. "No worries friend, we will get her soon enough." He knew his words would mean little, but he offered them anyway.
"It's fine, I'm hungry as well," Vanir said. He sat down on a log, reached into the pack he had been carrying, and pulled out an apple and his tin of water.
"Water is unlikely to be good to drink out here, so I brought a tin of some from back in Ebonhart. Here, help yourself." He offered one of his wooden cups, filled with clean water, to Sylvestor, who accepted. Vanir drank about half of his own serving of the water, and poured the rest back into the tin. He ran his face across the scar on his face, still remembering the battle like it was yesterday. He once again drifted into thought...
The creatures of the Sixth House began chanting something in an unknown language, perhaps Dwemer, which was unlikely. Then he saw it. An eight foot tall beast, with the appearance of a Dunmer, but much more muscular and taller. It raised its hand up, which had a razor sharp talon on each finger. An ash vampire. With another hand motion, the horde of Sixth House creatures charged in a very unorganized fashion.
"Ready your spears!" Vanir barked. He himself was in the front line of the army, and lowered his spear along with the others. Then the armies collided. Spears pierced the bodies of Corpus beasts, swords slashed through the flesh of Ash Slaves and Ash Zombies. Elemental Spells and claws slashed through Legionnaires. The battle was chaotic. Vanir, seeing a soldier weaponless against a Corpus beast, threw his spear at the hidious beast. It not only pierced it, but also imbedded itself in a rock, immobolizing the best. He drew his broadsword and decapitated the beast. He dispatched an armed Dreamer, knocked it down, and stabbed into its chest. Upon raising, however, claws slashed across his face. His helmet flew off and hit the ground, too far for him to reach in time. He looked up, ready for anything that came at him.
It was the ash vampire
Vanir looked over at Sylvestor. He was hiding something, Vanir could tell. Maybe tonight he would ask about it. He doubted to get an answer though. Something had been troubling him most of the day. Maybe it had to do with the way he quickly went into his tent, coming out a second later. He doubted it though, since he very well could've just been getting an extra supply. He finished the apple at that point. Normally it would've been wasteful to leave it on the ground, but there were creatures that could use the apple core. He tossed it over his shoulder. He examined the ring once more. It was a plain silver band, but it meant much more than that to him. The silence was disturbing him. He looked over at Sylvestor once more.
"Hey, Sylvestor, you still up for that sparring at the end of the day? I could teach you a thing or two about using a sword or spear." He managed a small smile. It was his first in many days.