Oooh nicely done. Putting that complicating and related quest in there is an excellent move. I wonder who's first for a visit, the Udyrfrykte or the Draugr, and what will happen when he meets them? It's getting the feeling of events moving faster than e can follow again, you're begining the threads of prophecy quite subtly but they're definatly there.

I like his unease at the mention of prophecy and slight suspicion (which I suspect will grow) that he is in the centre of the web. It's very Athlain to be so dry and practical with the supernatural.

It sounds like more than strength will be tested here. Or maybe more than one test of strength.

But- be cautious, Athlain. Something about this seems odd to me.”

Korst’s entry in the Understatement of the Year competition.

I have grown fond of Brynjolfr, what a relief that he was away during the attack. Although he might not feel that way when he gets back. Svenja’s tears in front of Athlain confirm what the teasing has already shown us about how the Skaal have accepted him. So instead of the comforts of the mead hall, Athlain gets to head out into the firey, melty ice after multiple creatures. Yikes!! And welcome back to Thirsk.

I would have sworn it was the Bloodmoon Prophecy !!! The Uderfryke, GAAAAH !!! I have to agree that I'm really glad Brynjolfr was not there to become fodder for the beast !!! ARGH !!! Still, Thirsk has become family to Athlain, this has to hit him hard.

This...calls for immediate action, right! OK so it will be... Udyrfrykte is unspeakable I cannot find the words for it.

Oh aye my nordic heritage tells me what the NAME means and it scare the h***out of me.

I am coming!

Serene

I have a deep feeling of darkness when I think of Athlain, I am torn and feel I should go to Athlain's aid, what should I do Treydog????? Mother??????

Athynae

Treydog, it never ceases to amaze me the way you capture each individual, their hearts are there for us to see and share. This scene is no exception and I am anticipating that it will only continue to get better as Athlain and the others grow within themselves. Phenomenal job my friend.

A

As Olen said, a very clever tying of two events together here. The Lich with his flame turning loose the Unidentified Mutton's Udyrfrykte Matron's son was such a good touch. Looks like there's some killin' to do!



nits:
When I neared the mead hall, my uneasiness grew. I could not hear the sound of Brynjolfr’s hammer ringing upon his anvil, nor was there any smell of smoke from the wood fire that burned constantly in the center of the hall. Dread weighted my steps and was not relieved when I at last caught a glimpse of Thirsk.
One door was barely hanging from a single hinge; the other was smashed to splinters. The snow before the hall held strange tracks and massive splashes of blood. Something terrible had happened here and I wished desperately that I could turn away from it. But- I wore the uniform of an officer of the Legion, with all that it meant. Beyond that, the people of this place had taken me in, befriended me, become as dear to me as family. Whatever had passed, I had to know. And once I knew, I would do whatever must be done. Julian’s words came to me then, slightly altered:
The forum ate the space between your two paragraphs here.


She gestured to the bow she had dropped and to silver arrows driven into the walls and floor.
“I took my bow from the wall and rained arrows upon him from the stairs and at last drove him off. But he will return.”
Same thing here.

Athynae! As I said it calls for immediate action, and if you listen carefully to the voice in your mind, you will know how to act! I promise you I will be there guiding you. If you don't believe me maybe you will believe Uncle Seth! HE can tell you what I can accomplish by just being inside your mind!

S

You are there Mother, as you have always been. I am learning to "hear" that voice more clearly as each day passes. But you must know, as I am certain Uncle Seth does, it is a distant second to your presence. I miss your voice in my ear not simply in my mind.

"I don't miss anybody being in my head....It's a pet peeve when they are." The very private Uncle Seth.

Well it is sometimes a little annoying, but Uncle Seth Mother would never lead us wrong.

Athynae

Sethyas! Athynae! There is no time arguing about the special skills we have, we have to take action, we have to see to that young Athlain does not get harmed in ANY way...right my precious?

Yes we do Mother. But I don't know what to do. I am here with Aunt Baria while everything in me is telling me to go.

Athynae

@haute- The Bloodmoon Udyrfrykte is somewhat less scary in appearance than the Matron- although still one of the harder opponents in the game. And Julian and Athlain do seem to have the same attitude toward responsibility. One can speculate if that came with the Legion uniform- or was what caused them both to decide to join….

@Black Hand- We shall see if he does… And there will be another (anonymous) mention of “Uncle Seth” in a later post- assuming I get there.

@Olen- My notes show that I was ambivalent about how to handle these events- the fact that the “Fire on the Water” and the “Raid on Heorot Thirsk” occurred close together was the deciding factor. And I also feel that things are accelerating- which may be why I am (subconsciously) stepping on the brake.

@Grits- The test will not be precisely what Athlain expects… And I have to agree with your take on Korst’s “Hmm- this seems somewhat odd” remark (which dialogue is from within the game, by the way). There was no “built-in” explanation for Brynjolfr’s survival- so I made my own- and was also grateful for it.

@mALX- There are a couple of things happening here- and since Athlain is very much the catalyst- and the focus- he gets the "benefit." It is rather like the Zurin Arctus quote at the beginning of Morrowind- “Each event is preceded by Prophecy. But without the hero, there is no event." As I understand it (which likely means badly)- the player character’s actions lead directly to the fire on the ice- which is what frees the Udyrfrykte- who then rampages through Thirsk. And you are also correct about how the loss of so many friends will hit Athlain- though he will try to avoid thinking on it for the moment by simply moving forward.

@minque- Help is indeed on the way- as shall be seen in the post below. And I do believe this is one moment when your headstrong daughter WILL listen to your advice. Perhaps because it has the virtue of being what she wants to do, anyway.

@Athynae- Oh, hello. Um- you can just ignore the last sentences of the reply I wrote to you mother, okay sweetie? And if I write characters who seem “real,” it is because I have learned from life- and from reading the brilliant work of others.

@SubRosa- See note to mALX above, although I wish I could take credit for linking the two events. My only contribution was to add Korst’s suggestion to “Ask at Thirsk,” which allowed Athlain to “discover” the attack immediately rather than “whenever.” Spacing fixed.

Where things stand- Thirsk has been attacked and the residents massacred by a beast known as "The Udyrfrykte." Svenja, the only survivor, has asked Athlain to slay the monster.... Meanwhile, he must also investigate a column of fire rising from the lake, perhaps created by a Draugr Liche Lord.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Her plea fell upon my spirit like stones in a well. How could she say that I was the only one, when an entire clan of Skaal hunters and warriors had literally been torn to pieces? How could I prevail when all of them had failed? Although I did not voice my protest, Svenja must have seen something of it in my eyes. She looked at me, once more in Legion uniform, with Athynae’s Gift hanging at my side.

“I saw how you defeated Erich, when you still were not well, using unfamiliar arms and armor.” She added proudly, “And the island fair rings with tales of your deeds.”

She must have seen my surprise at that last statement, for a ghost of her old smile appeared and she asked me, “What? Did you think that all we sang was that silly drinking song? Nay, Bathmar was working on a true ballad for you, until….”

She looked to where the skald lay, his lute smashed at his side. She paused and turned her head to hide the tears that welled once more in her eyes, “I believe you have the strength and the courage to do this- else I would not ask. And- there is no other. Skjoldr is dead. He took possession of Thirsk when he slew Griss the Yellow and placed his head upon the pedestal. But now, there is no chieftain. I must stay here and see to the dead; must make sure the rites are performed so that they may go to Sovndgarde. But, if you can slay the Udyrfrykte and bring back a trophy, you can become the next chieftain, and Thirsk will not die. Skjoldr saw something in you- he trusted you.”

She looked back at me and her blues eyes burned with a cold fire. “What say you? Will you take Skjoldr’s boots- the Paws of the Wolf-Runner- and avenge my clan? I… ask you as a friend.”

There had never been any real doubt as to my answer, but her words reached my heart, called to my sense of honor and loyalty. “Yes,” I said, “I will do as you ask.”

Svenja bowed her head in acknowledgement and said, “You honor me and my fallen comrades.”

I thought about that, and knelt beside Skjoldr and took his cold hand in a warrior’s clasp. Then I removed his enchanted boots, placed them on my own feet, and thanked him for his final gift. Rising, I went to the dead Skaal hunters and took from each a token- a wolf-tooth or bear-claw or even a button or bit of fabric. Then I returned to Svenja, who silently gave me a silver arrowhead. I secured all the remembrances in a small pouch and put it inside my cuirass, near my heart. Thus would I carry each of the Skaal with me, drawing upon their strength and courage in the coming battle. Svenja embraced me fiercely once more and said,

“Seek the entry to the beast’s lair on the shore of the lake, just west of here. I am sure my arrows drove him back to his cave; the trail should be easy to follow. Go now and good hunting.”

I checked my equipment and stepped out through the ruined doors. For just a moment, I feared that Svenja might seek comfort in death, perhaps turning the ruined hall into a funeral pyre for herself and the fallen of her clan. But then, I gave thought to the warrior who had driven off the beast with nothing but her bow- and her boundless courage. If it had been death she sought, Svenja would have gone after the creature herself. She would do what she could for her people, and she would be there when I returned. I did not envy her the grisly task of caring for the dead, having to look upon each familiar face one last time.

To me was left the simpler job- to find the Udyrfrykte and kill it. The name was strange to my ears; no doubt a descriptive Nordish construction, but it meant nothing to me. Therefore, I examined the indications in the snow and considered the injuries I had observed inside the hall. The tracks showed a creature that walked upright most of the time, occasionally using its hands as well. That matched descriptions I had read of the deadly trolls of Cyrodiil. The snow and earth also showed the marks of large claws, which explained the great wounds on the bodies of the Skaal. The fact that some of them had been dismembered spoke of a ferocious strength as well. And I was to go alone into its lair- and to come out again, preferably alive, rather than as a pile of monster excrement.

I took a moment to wonder why it was that everyone suddenly seemed anxious to send me down into the caves beneath Lake Fjalding- first Korst and now Svenja. The prospect was not one that cheered me. Dark places beneath the ground had always given me pause, and Garnas’ recent death in the mine had only reinforced my unease. But I had made my promises and I would hold to my honor. Still, I could not help but recall that, on those few occasions when I had contemplated my (no doubt heroic) demise, caves had not figured anywhere in my imagining. Neither had snow and ice, for that matter. It seemed to me that it should be enough to die facing some great evil, without adding discomfort into the equation. I had seen so much death in the last year that my own no longer felt distant or unimaginable. In fact, I did not particularly fear death any more. But I did fear dying stupidly- and alone.



Athynae studied the walls of the guest room in Indarys Manor, her lovely face set in a frown. It was not the walls which displeased her, but her thoughts. She glanced at the worn travel journal lying upon the desk and sent a wry thought toward Serene,

“I understand SOME things now, Mother. But not everything. And I WILL come home, but at a time and in a way of my own choosing.”

She then turned her gaze unerringly to the northwest, toward Solstheim. Athlain had been in Ebonheart a few days ago- and then he was gone again. She sighed in exasperation, but at the same time, a secret smile lifted the corners of her mouth. The rumors and stories about his visit had already come to Ald’ruhn- they had probably reached High Rock by now.

Athlain had challenged Duke Dren for the hand of Athynae Sarethi!

On that point, all the stories agreed. But beyond that- they diverged wildly.

The marriage contract had been a ruse, a masterstroke against the Telvanni, hinting at a Hlaalu-Redoran alliance.

No- the contract was real, but the young officer had overawed the Duke. After all- like father, like son (said with a wink and a knowing expression).

Young Athlain was dead- assassinated by the Morag Tong at the Duke’s behest.

On and on it went, speculation piled on innuendo, piled on wildest flight of fancy. The rumors did not concern Athynae; she knew the truth. More important, she knew that Athlain still lived. He was on Solstheim once more, risking his life, bound by that unyielding sense of honor. Sometimes, she almost wished…. But no. She was Redoran herself, with all that meant.

“But,” she wailed, in the privacy of her mind, “You COULD be a little SMARTER about it.”

The depth of her concentration caused the walls to fade into mist, and it seemed as if she rode upon Athlain’s shoulder, seeing what he saw. A column of fire, rising from Lake Fjalding. Terrible destruction at Thirsk. She looked behind him and saw shadows dogging his/their heels, creeping closer. The vision shattered as she sensed his mortal peril and she trembled.

“Oh, Athlain….” It was a whisper, a plea, a prayer.

Striding across the room, Athynae threw open her pack and began filling it with clothing and supplies. She cinched it shut and threw it over one shoulder, then slung her katana over the other. Darkness threatened Athlain, and she would be where she belonged- by his side.

Go Athynae, go!

The gathering of the personal items from the dead was an especially nice touch, and one that rings of shamanistic principles. It is fitting that he would carry the spirits of the Skaal with him as he goes to confront the Uderfrytke.

What exactly does it mean in Nordic, anyway? I wonder . . .

"Udyrfrykte" is simply two Norwegian words clapped together:

Udyr : noun - monster, brute
Frykte : verb - be afraid of, fear, dread

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Bloodmoon:Udyrfrykte

And Good job Trey!



I believe it MALx's term: 'Spew'. I WAS just enjoying some tea....

Edited to add: SOOO Ninja'd Olen! You're like my one remaining fan, you should know how I roll by now!

Firstly:

The occasional humour in this piece is sublime. It added an extra dimension to an otherwise gloomy section and goes to show that Athlain's morbidity is more due to the surroundings than any innate change. I suspect a certain monster is about to get more than it bargained for. And perhaps he's not being so stupid - he knows it might be wounded and delay won't help so he's going after it.

The part with Athynae was well done. The spreading but confused rumours are as would be expected but don't seem to damning to Athlain, and her own thoughts seem fitting. I suspect we'll see her soon.

Haute - it's Norwegian, Udyr - monster, frykte - dread, fear (not that I speak Norwegian but I remember reading it on UESP).

EDIT - ninja'd

UM Yes!!! If I could count on Athlain taking a minute to assess the situation instead of running headlong into a fray with this horrible monster it would be different but he tends to act first and think later.

And yes, as far as my comment about going home at a time of my own choosing well that sort of fits don't you think? I mean I am Serene's daughter afterall, why would I behave any differently in this respect?

Powerful paragraph!





WOO HOO !!!


Darkness threatens Athlain,
So she must rescue him once again
T'was beginning to think I'd not see the day
When once again he was saved by ATHYNAE !!! WOO HOO !!!

Ehh? One? What about me then huh?

treydoggie! this was wonderful, I wonder do YOU also read minds? You certainly must have read mine, how else would you know Serene left the journal with Thyna? And not just talked about it with her....

So she's leaving again, well naturally, Serene did not expect anything but that, you know she knows....and since Serene is very fond of Athlain also she does not disapprove of Thyna going after her...or will she?

That....remains to be seen!

Yes Mother I have the journal and I will take it with me when I leave though I feel I must tell you, I have not read the whole of it. Every time I pick it up I get this feeling that there may be things in that journal that will change everything. I do want to know, I do, but I am also afraid of what those pages hold for me. I tried to wait for you but alas I must go Athlain is in danger and of all people you should understand, this is not a choice for me. I have remained here too long as it is, I do hope you understand.

You will know when all is well, I am beginning to understand why Uncle Seth dislikes having people in his head, none the less....as soon as this is over and Athlain is safe WE REALLY NEED TO TALK!!! The journal was a gift and means the world to me but in this I would have your words spoken first, I not only need that but I believe I deserve it.

All my love,
Athynae

Making a medicine bag of tokens from the Skaal hunters is a gesture that makes the possibility of his becoming chieftain seem natural. I’m sure Athlain didn’t learn that from dad.

Still, I could not help but recall that, on those few occasions when I had contemplated my (no doubt heroic) demise, caves had not figured anywhere in my imagining. Neither had snow and ice, for that matter. It seemed to me that it should be enough to die facing some great evil, without adding discomfort into the equation.

This part has that wry flavor that I love, so I was smiling. Then I had to read the next lines:

I had seen so much death in the last year that my own no longer felt distant or unimaginable. In fact, I did not particularly fear death any more. But I did fear dying stupidly- and alone.

several times, because they delivered that moment in Athlain’s mind with perfect clarity.

For the last paragraph, I second mALX’s WOO HOO!

These last few portions have been an absolute joy to read. Your ability to convey Athlain's sense of duty and honor even as he deals with a sense of devastating loss is simply astounding. Bravo, and well done!

I am very interested to see how Athlain deals with the Udyrfrykte--and if Athynae will make it to his aid in time. It's a long way from Ald-Ruhn to Solstheim, much longer than it is from Thirsk to the Udyrfrykte's Lair. I worry that she may not make it in time to aid or, if necessary, save our young Legion hero. The anticipation is killing me!

Again, great job! I look forward to more!

@haute- There will be a bit of Athynae in this one. After this- well, time will tell. The taking of something from each of the dead was one of those happy accidents. Svenja does encourage the player character to take the boots- Athlain decided to carry that to a logical conclusion.

@Black Hand- Yes, the translation is either the one from the UESP Wiki… Or else it is the “Underwear Monster,” as would-be heroes soil theirs upon seeing him…

Sorry about the tea- but Athynae is rather direct in her approach to things- and gets rather tired of Athlain’s dithering and dallying. “One remaining fan?” Really? Hey now!

@Olen- I debated that line for some time, as this is a dark moment in the story. But- yes, it is very much in keeping with Athlain’s way of coping. Thank you for your appreciation of the Athynae scene- she is essential to this story and to Athlain’s continued survival. And yes, there will be more of her- soon, I hope.

@Athynae- And there she is! My predictive powers are as intact as Jean Dixon’s! Athlain seems to think when he should act- and act when he should think. Perhaps he needs someone to look after him…?

@mALX- Thank you so much. And poetry, too! As a matter of fact, there may be a bit of that in the near future also.

@minque- We have “lived in” each other’s stories for so long it is no surprise that I can predict Serene’s actions- sometimes. Mostly, though, it is because you have made her so vivid and real. And yes, I think Serene understands that her oldest daughter needs to do this.

@Grits- You are correct about the source of the medicine bag- our young Legionnaire has “gone native” in some ways. As to the humor, followed by the somber thought- I think I have been reading about a certain Nord who displays those qualities quite well. And yes- Athynae is not waiting any longer- she is going to help Athlain whether he wants her to or not.

@Khajiit_Thief- My thanks to you for your kind words. As to the time/distance issue, you are correct. As for Athlain versus the Unmentionable, you need wait no longer.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The trail was easy to follow; deep tracks and spatters of blood marked a straight path toward the shore of the lake, where the column of fire was still visible. I shifted my shoulders irritably at the reminder of the Skaal test. I would do what I must- but I would do it on my own terms. The very first test they had set me- with the Ritual of the Gifts- had been a test of loyalty. And so was this.

When I reached the edge of the lake, I saw that the tracks entered a low mound of stones and earth, capped by old ice, which even then was melting away. And I could feel the warmth of the fire upon the water. Fresh blood and a couple of broken arrow shafts decorated the entry to the noisome tunnel. When I examined the arrows, I saw that the fletching was Svenja’s- proof that some of her missiles had found their mark. Beyond that, the only blessing I could find was the fact that the sun penetrated some distance into the cave, and seemed to reflect from the ice-covered walls. That was well, for I preferred not to try juggling a lantern or torch along with my mace and shield, while also attempting to stay alive. I supposed I could carry a light source in my teeth, but did not care for the risk of setting my hair on fire. Though I was not vain about my hair, baldness did not appeal to me. The need for light was just another of those small details the adventure tales forgot to mention- unless the hero was somehow blessed with the ability to see in the dark.

That thought set me to wondering if perhaps the intrusion of sunlight into its lair was part of what had so enraged the darkness-dwelling Udyrfrykte. But, in the same moment, I realized that I was simply delaying- and more to the point, I did not care. Whether the murderous attack on Thirsk was the result of some ancient wrong or of a motiveless malignity- the people who died had been my friends. My feet had been set upon this path from the first moment I entered Thirsk and was granted guest-right. In the midst of my depressing thoughts, I seemed to hear Athynae’s exasperated voice somewhere just behind my head:

“You’re thinking too much- and about the WRONG things! If you get yourself killed, I WILL find a way to bring you back, just so I can kill you myself. Now do what you must, so you can return to me.”

It was so real that I turned, expecting to find her standing nearby, arms folded and a frown on her face. But the only thing moving nearby was the ungainly form of a horker. I eyed the creature suspiciously, but it simply undulated to a hole in the ice and disappeared, showing no sign of the power of speech.

Nevertheless, whoever had admonished me had been correct; I did not have time for introspection or distractions. I edged into the cave entrance, into a world of twilight gloom and an awful odor. The smell was beyond my power to describe- a combination of ice and death and something far worse- a fetid animal scent that turned my stomach. Breathing shallowly through my mouth, I saw that the tunnel followed a straight path, down and to the west. Old bones rolled and crunched beneath my feet, and I shortened my steps, fearful of falling in a great clatter of arms and armor. Twenty steps or so into the cave, I began to hear a sound, repeated at intervals. It was a muffled, angry grunting and screeching, combined of equal parts rage and pain. At last, I saw a dark shape moving near the end of the cavern.

Perhaps my earlier speculation had been correct, and the beast was akin to the trolls of the mainland. In any event, in the few moments I had, I saw a creature that walked upright, but was larger than a man, and covered with coarse, dark fur. A number of arrows stuck out of its back, and it frequently turned its head and snapped fanged jaws at them. In its right hand it carried what I first thought was a crude club, but then recognized as a severed human leg. Even as I watched, it brought the grisly object to its mouth and tore at the flesh. The sight caused me to release a hiss of disgust and horror, and the monster turned glowing green eyes in my direction. Waving the leg wildly, it bellowed a challenge that shook ice from the walls and roof of the tunnel. Then it charged.

When I fought the Grahl in the Halls of Penumbra, I had been awed and humbled by its magnificence. So, too, had I felt about the spriggans at Raven Rock. Those creatures were avatars of nature, and I was the intruder. But the Udyrfrykte gave me no such feeling. It was loathsome and unnatural, a monster in all senses of the term- and one that had outlived its allotted span. Even so, I was glad that Svenja’s arrows had done their work- if the beast had been hale, I do not think I would have survived.

It swung the severed leg in a wild arc, using its free hand to try and drag me within range of its massive fangs. I blocked the leg with my shield, tilting it so the force was dissipated, and swatted the grasping fingers with Athynae’s Gift. The creature snatched the injured hand back and screeched at me in frustration. It was massive and terribly strong, but also slow. Not only the arrows, but an overstuffed belly made the beast sluggish. I gritted my teeth and tried not to think of what it had dined upon.

Speed. Speed was the key. I kept moving, circling, forcing the Udyrfrykte to turn with me, causing the arrows to damage and bleed it further. I could not allow it to take hold of me- if it ever did, I would be torn to pieces. The leg thudded soddenly against my shield, but I ignored the nausea-inducing sound and concentrated on my own attacks. As much as I wanted to drive a thundering blow into the hideous maw, I focused instead on the arms and legs. They were vulnerable, and I could strike them while staying almost out of reach. Better still, due to the enchantment on my mace, every blow strengthened me while weakening the creature.

At last, it swung the leg at me with more frustration than art, and the force of the swing turned it halfway around. I dropped to one knee, angling my shield over me, and smashed a backhand blow against the monster’s knee. As it crashed to the ground, I scrambled clear, then darted in to rain additional blows upon its awful head. In truth, I perhaps continued to attack long after the need was past. Then I staggered away and retched in a corner, shuddering as the fear and adrenaline left me, along with the bile in my throat.

When I recovered, I looked around the cave, and what I found put paid to any lingering doubts I might have had. The chamber was littered with old bones, and the creature’s… nest… held dozens of skulls. There was no way to know how many victims the Udyrfrykte had claimed over the years. I examined the corpse, recalling Svenja’s request that I bring back a trophy. Although the ostensible reason to do so was to claim leadership of Thirsk, it was still more important to prove that the terror was over. Somehow I knew that Svenja would never rest if she was not sure the monster was dead. From my experience with the Skaal, I knew that the normal practice was to take the head of a slain enemy. However, my overly enthusiastic “making sure” had turned that into an impossibility. Nevertheless, the purpose of the trophy was to prove the opponent was dead. Therefore, I drew the dagger from behind my neck and claimed my proof.

Svenja had not been idle in my absence; when I approached the mead hall, she was nailing boards across the ruined doorway. She turned red-rimmed eyes upon me and said,

“I have laid out the bodies of the slain, and will transport them to the barrow. In the meantime, no one may enter Thirsk until….”

She stopped as her eyes fell upon the gory sack I held. Her voice grew stronger and some of the old light came back to her face.

“You have slain the Udyrfrykte? And returned with a trophy?”

I spilled out the beast’s heart upon the snow and she stared at it for some time, then picked it up and raised it high.

“By the great god Shor, you are a true warrior! I will send for builders to restore Thirsk, and will place the heart upon the pedestal. But there is one more task you must perform before you become the new chieftain.”

She looked at me expectantly and I tried to explain that I was not sure that I wanted to become the new chieftain. Svenja’s face grew still and she spoke in a low voice.

“If there is no chieftain, Thirsk will disappear. All the history, all the songs, stories, and games will fade from memory. There will be nowhere for the Skaal to shelter from the cold. There will be nowhere for me to call home.”

The last sentence was a nearly inaudible whisper that melted my heart. She had lost almost everything, had single-handedly driven away the monster that murdered her clan, had seen to their needs in death as well as life. And now, she only wanted to be allowed to continue the life she had chosen. I placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“Very well. What must I do to ensure that Thirsk survives?”

Svenja smiled at me and said, “Seek the barrow of our first chieftain, Hrothmund the Red.”

When I repeated the name, she said, “Ah, you know it already? That is well. Every new chieftain must receive the approval of Hrothmund’s spirit. Inside the barrow is his great war axe. Place your hands on the haft and state your intention to take over Thirsk. If he finds you worthy, Hrothmund will give you his blessing. Seek the eye of the wolf, Athlain.”

She turned to look at the ruined hall and added, “While you do that, I will hire builders. I know you have other tasks, but please do not wait too long. Have no fear- I will know when you are done- it will be borne to me on the wind. Then it will be time for feasting and celebration. But for now, the chill air speaks only of sorrow and death.”

Well done, sir! Well done. I liked the description of the leg smashing against the shield. Lol, when I first found that thing on the XBox like five years ago, I laughed so hard...I blame television....

Deep sigh, he's safe for the moment, I'm trying to get there as fast as I can, please don't do anything stupid. I can feel your depression, please pull yourself out of it.

This is wonderful Treydog, everything I always expect from you.

And here I am thinking of the song of Beowulf! Wonderful parallels to that old classic, but with an Athlain twist. And yes, death stinks, and a full belly does slow one down. So does fluff between the ears. I'm glad Athlain survived this with nothing more than an upset stomach (though that's bad enough).

The comment about the torch and baldness caused me to laugh, recalling Athynae's threats of a balding spell on this forum. Seems to me both you and Athlain share the same - uh - respect for that particular condition!

As well they should!!!! neither of them would look particularly appealing sans their locks.

I had wondered which he would persue first. This line explained perfectly and succinctly and just really worked for me. Far better than half a page of introspection might have, you have a character strong enough that I can guess the rest. But it also says something else to me - although Captain Carius vanished quite some time ago Athlain is still under orders from the Legion to find him. When his loyalties collode he went with Thrisk and his friends. Perhaps he has gone native, and perhaps he's more like his father than he knows.

I also picked up on the baldness line - it made me grin.


This seems to be a habit. Again perhaps he's more like the natives than he knows, there's a bit of the beserker there.

Good part, the fight was well executed and I loved the descriptio of the lair. And now he's cheiftan of a mead hall - what ever would his mother say?

Author's Note: As my long-suffering readers know, I do not normally "post-machine" my story thread. However, this is a special occasion- for a number of reasons. The following will be a "guest-post" from Athynae, written by herself. Therefore, it will be different than the other Athynae moments so far, in that it is written from her perspective in first person. OK- enough throat-clearing- here she is.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I gathered my supplies, trying to think of everything I could possibly need but not wanting to go overboard. I recalled Athlain’s remark about my “need to bring an entire apothecary shop” with me. Of course, the last time I had found him- he was about to starve to death in the snow. Still, there was no knowing how far I would have to actually carry it all, and ingredients weighed less than potion bottles. And he would probably need healing when I reached him- one way or another.

As I was closing the top of the pack, I looked to the desk and Mother’s journal. Our conversation was not what I had expected, and then she had to leave to take care of pressing matters with the council. She gave me her journal and said she knew I would have questions, but for now it was a good place to start. I did read some of it, about her being in prison and how she came to know my Father. How she became a Blade. The most surprising part was the relationship between her and Uncle Seth. I think I had always known there was more to that than met the eye.

I had read up until she became the Archmaster of Redoran and then- I couldn’t go on. Something pressed in upon me like a weight on my chest and I had to stop. I hadn’t touched the journal since then, but I reached to pick it up, wrapped it carefully in a spare tunic, and tucked it in my pack. I knew the pages to come would reveal information that would change everything. I don’t know how I knew that; I just felt it- as clearly as I felt the firelight glow of Athlain to the north and east. Even the little I had read, discovering how close she once was to Uncle Seth, was- a little unsettling, too.

Who was Uncle Seth? All I really knew about him was what I had gleaned from his running in and ducking out, sometimes staying for days and sometimes only long enough to talk to Mother and Father. He had spent some time with me, teaching me how to use weapons but only briefly, imparting more wisdom than technique, or so it had seemed. I needed to know more, but who could tell me besides the people I didn’t want ask? In fact, I did not even want them to know that I was asking. I thought of Uncle Trey, knowing he wouldn’t betray my confidence. I even wrote him a note, but then I paused. The last time I had seen him he seemed so sad. How could I add to his burdens? So I ripped up the note and burned the scraps. Mae and Cai were dear friends- but they were also worse than Mother when it came to finding things out.

As I thought of Trey, I had an epiphany. He had an enormous library; maybe there was something there. I carried my gear down the hall and slipped quietly into Uncle Trey’s office. The books lined the walls like tiles in a palace, floor to ceiling. Where should I start? There had to be some sort of organization. I stepped behind his desk and looked at the room as he would when he was seated. There was a shorter shelf within easy reach from the chair, and the books it contained were in a variety of sizes and bindings, with hand-written titles on their spines. It appeared that these were the tomes that were “personal.” Alongside the Story of Trey and- I gave a start- Serene of Cyrodiil- there was a set of well-worn volumes entitled Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin by Sethyas Velas. It amazed me that the almost excessively private Uncle Seth had not only written a memoir, but that he had allowed anyone to see it. The only question now was how much or how little he might have revealed.

I tucked the books into my pack and penned a short note which I left on the desk.

Uncle Trey:

I borrowed a few of your books, I hope you don’t mind. I will take good care of them- I promise.

Love, ‘Thyna

A silt-strider ride later and I was setting sail for Solstheim to find Athlain. Impatiently, I waited for the cargo to be stowed, praying to Azura that I would be in time. Athlain had always been impulsive- and he seemed to believe he had to do everything himself. My fears for him and my questions about Mother swirled in my head, going around and around until I thought I might scream. I would rather be fighting the monsters on Solstheim than dealing with all that had engulfed my mind in those last few months. Fighting was always second nature; I never had to think, just moved, like a dance I had practiced a thousand times. Even if the beat changed I still knew the steps. This was going to be a long journey if I could not find some way to calm my thoughts.

I stood at the prow of the ship staring out over the sea. The water splashing against the side of the ship, the waves rolling ashore, echoed the pounding of the pulse in my temples. In desperation, I pushed my thoughts outward- northward, hoping against hope that he could “hear” me.

Please Athlain, be careful. I am coming; just don’t do anything stupid. I swear if you get yourself killed I will bring you back to life so I can kill you again!

At last, the sailors pulled the anchor and hoisted the trim sails to carry us out of the harbor, and then the main sail rode the mast and expanded like a white wing as the wind caught. Finally I felt like I was getting somewhere, but it still wasn’t fast enough. I paced the decks like a chained kagouti and the sailors avoided my gaze. My hands itched to draw my katana or to string my bow- but what then?

Then I remembered the reading material I had packed. I could stand there staring at the lovely sameness or I could use the time to learn more about Uncle Seth and his “attachment” to my family. I returned to my small but comfortable cabin, located next to the captain’s. There were times when I was glad to be the daughter of Athyn and Serene Sarethi. I bolted the door behind me and removed my armor down to my tunic, then took out Uncle Seth’s Memoirs and climbed onto the bunk. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to read about the man that I knew had once spent time in the arms of my Mother.

I read and read and read some more, through a roiling storm that should have had me curled up with the chamber pot but I was so consumed with Seth’s story that I barely noticed the roll and toss of the ship. In fact, it angered me more than anything because the erratic movements made me lose my place on the page. There were times in his tale that I felt as if I were there beside him, encouraging him with a soft whisper in his ear:

“You aren’t alone.”

Other times I could have punched him- just like I had Athlain on more than one occasion- and for similar reasons. It was easy to praise his skill when the fight was done, but sometimes in the midst of the descriptions I caught myself screaming at him:

“NO!!!! Slide and duck! Spin! NOW STRIKE!!!”

But no matter how much I yelled, it didn’t change his moves, and thankfully my directions weren’t needed. He knew what he was doing; I think I only did it because the stories were so vivid and the feeling of helplessness reminded me of my fears for Athlain.

I knew Uncle Seth was the Grand Master of the Morag Tong; it was one of those “secrets” that wasn’t much of a secret at all. But somehow I don’t think the truth of what it meant had penetrated until I saw it come together in words penned by his own hand. And there was more: how much he had aided Uncle Trey and Mother as they saw the prophecies fulfilled, and how he was responsible for her final revenge against Varus Vantinius. I was totally caught up in his life’s story and the respect that I had always had for him was joined by reverence. How could he have done all of those things and still be just Uncle Seth to me?

Truth be told, after reading every word once and most of them twice, I was left with as many questions as before. Every answer spawned a dozen mysteries. And I still wasn’t ready to read Mother’s journal. I fell into a fitful slumber, wondering- What now?

: 0

Im actually speechless!

What a wonderful peek inside the head of a delightful young lady! I quite enjoyed her perspective and hearing about a few wonderful books. And yes, I know what she means about shouting at Uncle Seth to spin faster, duck lower, and strike harder. That's the mark of a good tale.

*

GAAAAH! I just made the connection ... Svenja, whose bones are found inside the Uderfryke in Oblivion !!!! Urg!



This brought an instant vision of Vilja with a red wig on, ROFL !!! Well, except it lacks the word, "GLARING!" ROFL !!



This paragraph above all the rest epitomizes the scene.



Not sure if out of fear or rage, maybe both. I pictured Athlain doing that even before reading this sentence.



Powerful and poignient!


***


@ Athynae - WHEW !!! I couldn't stop to quote a single line because this chapter held me riveted to the page from beginning to end !! I'd have to quote the whole and spam the thread !! The mystery deepens is putting it lightly, I felt like I suddenly knew something ... and just as suddenly felt like a deep chasm of things I didn't know had just opened before me !!! AWESOME WRITE !!!!!


*

Thanks guys!!! You have no idea how much your words mean to me. After an extended amount of time in a sort of suspended animation I feel as if the sun finally touched my face.

Trey thank you doesn't quite cover it, but I'm pretty sure you know. I feel I am beginning to learn the intricacies of the dance. I owe you so much.

I must say that worked extremely well. The change in tone fitted the change in PoV and was exactly what I imagined for Athynae. Nicely done. It ties the piece in with the backstories well too and keeps the depth of the world going, not just through the scope of this story but of the others too.

The glimpse of old Trey having seemed sad worked for me too. It served as a reminder that it's not just Athlain who's been having a hard time.

I wonder where she'll catch up with him...

Well done, as always, Treydog! This part below especially spoke to me:



You do a magnificant job of once again reminding us of the sense of loss that has resulted from The Unmentionable's rampage, as well as the immense amount of compassion Athlain possesses. It goes much deeper than his sense of Legion honor--these people are family now, and he simply cannot fathom refusing the Skaal woman's request because of this. This part tugged at my heartstrings.

As far as Athynae's part, I can only echo what others have said--it was an extremely enjoyable read, and brilliantly conveys the feelings of worry that the young woman possesses during such a difficult time. Her musings about "Uncle Trey" were among my favorite parts of the piece--especially the note she left behind for him after taking his books. She better hope they don't get wet and soggy in that Solstheim snow, otherwise Trey may have a heart attack!

A powerfully poignant telling of Svenja's plight and the tragedy at Thirsk. I just know Athlain will help 'fix it'. (Just don't challenge anyone else to a duel).

And it was simply wonderful to be inside dear Athynae's head for an episode! Congratulations Athynae and thank you for sharing your talent!

OK so I'm speechless...and that's very uncommon for being me! Since I never encountered the Udyrfrykte it was amazing to read about Athlain's deed. Now he could easily have been killed though!

And Athynae, yes I felt a pain in my chest reading your post, you see there must be something special about you,( and treydoogie which I already know ) You depict Thyna totally wonderful, right, she may be my idea from the start BUT you and trey made her what she actually is and gah you made a great young lady! Exactly as I want her to be!

There is just ONE thing to add......


S.G.M

Still speechless.....

I am so glad you are home safe and sound!!!! I am so sorry that I missed you, I think........I don't know what to say actually. I have to go help Athlain Mother, I just hope you understand. We will talk when I get home, maybe by then I'll be able to think straight.

Why of course! I would not want anything else, I know you can help him out, you're MY daughter above all, and I also know you have other inherited skills....

yes dear, more questions will arise I know, but still, be yourself and do what you have to do. You know I'm always proud of you even if you sometimes don't believe that. And I'll always be there for you sweetie!

I know Mother, it is never far from my thoughts or my heart, but what did you mean by "other inherited traits"? Never mind, I don't think I want to know yet, there's too many other thoughts running through my head right now. I am almost to Solsteim and Athlain, praying to Azura that I will be able to let all of this go and focus on the task at hand.

LOL baldness.

It was so real that I turned, expecting to find her standing nearby, arms folded and a frown on her face. But the only thing moving nearby was the ungainly form of a horker. I eyed the creature suspiciously, but it simply undulated to a hole in the ice and disappeared, showing no sign of the power of speech.

This flight of fancy on the heels of admitting that he might be delaying is simply priceless. I hope Athynae never learns that he slightly confused her with a horker. Oh wait, too late.

Not only the arrows, but an overstuffed belly made the beast sluggish. I gritted my teeth and tried not to think of what it had dined upon.

Ugh. And someone’s leg. This fight was even more horrifying because it was so personal.

At the beginning of this segment, Athlain chafed at being told what to do for the Skaal test. When Svenja started to tell him about his last chieftain task, he seemed like he was politely declining. Then she explained the problem, and he volunteered before he knew what the task was. This progression was a delight to watch.

Athynae captivates from the first paragraph. Her descriptions of how she feels Athlain’s presence from a distance and pushes her thoughts out to him made perfect sense to me.

The note had me rolling. Technically, it is truthful. She did borrow a few books. I love this girl!!

Athynae... more story... NOW.

That's all I can say.

EDIT: I sent a little analysis to Athynae via way of PM, but I think it would be nice if I were to post it here, too.

You wrote from the heart. You made the words into precisely your own, with your own style, and your own personal methods of conveyance.

What I especially loved was just how unpretentious and honest you were about that. Not only is it refreshing to see an author who is not afraid to be him (or her) self (which is why I frequent this site) in the text, it says a lot for the character you are writing about. After reading just the first paragraph, I knew I was reading something truly unique, and I cannot possibly ask any more out of a writer, especially an aspiring one.

Take me for example, I am very direct and to the point, and I reflect that in my own personal writing style. My stories tend to be fast-paced because of that. You, on the other hand, take the time to savor every thought and feeling going through your character's head. We get to see Athynae for exactly who she is, and you have pulled it off beautifully.

What I'm worried about right now is just how high you've set the bar for your writing. But you know what? I'm not THAT worried.

TK-Thank you, again, ditto to all I replied to you in the PM. And I trust that if ever I post something that doesn't quite hit the "bar" that you will be the first to let me know. (But trey will need a good drag through the mud as well since he reads EVERYTHING first-hehe). I will be the first to say constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome, there's no way to improve if you are unaware of what you are doing wrong.

EVERYONE- Again thank you for all of the comments regarding Athynae's contribution, I don't quite know what to say other than that. I will attempt to do Thyna justice anytime I am given the opportunity to write from her perspective.

Trey- Thank you!! What an awesome experience for me, not only to be here reading all of these incredible stories from authors with so many different views and abilities but also for the opportunity to share my view of Thyna. You are ....well you know.

I just wanna say that never in my wildest imagination I thought that Athynae, whom I just invented in a conversation with treydog once, would be a character-star around here! It's simply amazing! So my message to you Athynae and of course treydoggie, my friend and inspirator:

THANK YOU both for making a real person out of an idea and also for making her so vivid and alive!

I just love both of you!

And I KNOW that I can speak for Trey on this...WE LOVE YOU!!! Thank you for the conversations that brought Athynae into the story, in all truth she is and will always be your creation. I was drawn to her because of Trey and it seems, to a certain degree, I have become her voice. In the end all I have done is give voice to your vision. But know this, I love her, she is a part of me and becomes more so as each day passes.

Honestly in the beginning when I first joined the forum I was simply going to use Thyna to get the pen back in your hand, I believe I have accomplished that (YAY!!! We can't wait!!!) along with so much more!!!!

I DO LOVE YOU MOTHER, and Minque!!!

As others have remarked, Athlain taking a token of each Skaal and creating a medicine bag from it was a brilliant inspiration. Also completely in keeping with the rest of his journeys on the island, which have always been as much spiritual and psychological as physical.

The rumors of Athlain's exploits vs. the Duke were priceless! But equally so is Athynae's reaching out to him, and her decision to gear up and go out to find him.

So it will soon be Chief Athlain? I did not see that coming. I wonder what the Legion will think of him becoming a Nordic clan leader?

Athynae's segment was a welcome change in pov. I loved the books in Trey's library. A very clever melding of the forum's stories with the reality within those stories.

I paced the decks like a chained kagouti
This is so her!

First, I want to thank everyone for the warm welcome they have given my guest-writer, Athynae. But it is no more than I have come to expect from this wonderful community. Even so, it is quite overwhelming- the only downside is that I am kicking myself for not enlisting her aid sooner. The good news is- she will continue to provide her insights and her voice to this story- which should help stave off premature hair loss.

@Black Hand- Yes, she can render us speechless…. Must be one of those “powers” granted to half-elven princesses.

@haute- It was also a treat for me to have a different point of view in this story. And we will likely see more of her reflexive shouts at the supposed “heroes” of these tales.

@mALX- You are correct- the player in Oblivion can discover Svenja Snow-singer’s ultimate fate… sadly. Yes, even Athynae’s “mental” presence is quite overwhelming, especially for Athlain. The lines you quote were some of my favorites, also. I wish I could take credit for Svenja’s words- but they are actually in-game. And- because I am a wise old doggie- there will be more of Athynae’s words- in this post and the next.

@Athynae- I will simply call your attention to what others have said…. Your contribution to this story has been far more than just words. And the words you have provided are welcome and wonderful.

@Olen- My humble thanks. I trust you to keep me on track and as a guide to whether the story is “working.” And it was about time to see Trey again- especially from someone else’s perspective.

@Khajiit_Thief01- Thank you so much. And you correctly perceive that discovering the value and the cost of “family” is at the heart of this story. And yes, he could have declined the offer until Svenja “made it personal.” He gives his loyalty to people rather than to entities or institutions. And it was such a joy to me to have Athynae “speak for herself,” especially so eloquently. And yes- Trey and his books…. I wonder if he might plan a trip to Solstheim, after all?

@Acadian- Thank you so much, my friend. No more duels- at least for a little while…. And the only thing better than one peek inside Athynae’s thoughts… is MORE Athynae. Which will be coming up shortly.

@minque- Your happiness with our vision of Athynae is so gratifying. She is very much Serene’s daughter- even as she finds her way towards being her own person. And it is no surprise that the first-born child of the great and wonderful lady of House Redoran is quite wonderful herself…. And as much as anything, your beautiful depiction of Serene, along with our many conversations, brought Thyna to life.

@Grits- Yes well, the fear of hair loss was rather on my mind as I was hastily typing that part…. Oh dear, Athlain may need to do some “clean up” on his journal before Thyna sees that horker confusion. Perhaps he can plead stupidity? The fight is one of the harder ones- even if the Unmentionable does look kind of like someone in a bad gorilla suit. And Athlain inherited that trait of having to be dragged kicking and complaining from his father. And I knew as soon as I saw the words Athynae had written- that I HAD to have them in this story. Thank you so much.

@TK- And your wish shall be granted. “Thank you” seems inadequate as a response to your wonderful words. But know how truly it is meant.

@SubRosa- Athlain’s professed agnosticism has undergone quite a strain- and his spiritual journey has been a surprise to me. At the same time, it has become an essential part of the story. Picturing Athynae contemplating all the rumors was quite fun for me- I could see her exasperated smile quite clearly. As noted, he would have ducked the leadership of Thirsk if he could- but Svenja made an appeal that he could not refuse. And Athynae asked me to tell you how much your words mean to her- thank you.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Athlain

Though I desperately wanted to delay my confrontation with Aeslip the Draugr Lord, time seemed to press upon me with a renewed urgency. Captain Carius had been missing for some weeks, while I had been entangled at Raven Rock and with the seemingly endless Skaal “tests.” Still, I had fought a difficult foe, and was emotionally exhausted as well. Sleep would not be amiss; I could practically hear ‘Thyna’s acerbic remarks about “not thinking ahead”- and there really was no reason to seek out an undead spell-caster in the dark of night.

Following the practice of master smiths everywhere, Brynjolfr had banked his forge fire, rather than simply letting it go out. Thus, the smithy was still warm and I possessed enough furs to make myself a pallet. It was also a good place to clean and repair my gear. After seeing me settled, Svenja departed for the coast, where she would send for builders and crafters who would restore Thirsk. As a result, I was left alone for a time, with only my own thoughts for company.

As I smoothed away the dents in my shield and scrubbed the grime from my armor, I considered that moment when I thought Athynae had admonished me to pay attention to the task at hand. The words had seemed to come from the air itself- or perhaps from within my mind. There were stories of people who “heard voices”- and they usually did not end well. The gods knew I had been under a strain of late, and that I had been alone entirely too frequently. Perhaps my sanity was slipping at last. Those were the pleasant thoughts with which I beguiled my evening and that carried me to a troubled sleep beneath a bench in the smithy. Worse yet, all through the night, the solidly-built structure seemed to rock like a ship at sea, a sensation that was more disconcerting than unpleasant.

The dawn brought no answers, just a meal of stale biscuit and weak tea. The only spice was a reminder of my responsibilities as I gazed at the column of flame that still rose from the lake. As I strapped on my armor, I wondered if there might ever come a night when my sleep was uninterrupted- followed by a morning where my greatest concern was what to have for breakfast. And that naturally prompted memories of mornings at Indarys Manor, complete with a variety of meats, kwama eggs, breads, and pastries- along with honey or jam. Perhaps at that very moment, Mother was sitting across from ‘Thyna, whose archer’s eye and reflexes were doing good service in preventing my sisters from procuring all the best bits for themselves.

I hoped Mother had ensured an adequate supply of hackle-lo tea- Athynae was a wonderful person, but she was… perhaps… not precisely at her best in the mornings- at least until after she had gotten herself outside of a cup or three of tea. Of course, if she had stayed at Indarys Manor this entire time, it was likely that the retainers had developed the habit of placing a steaming cup on her bedside table before she awoke. Those thoughts, along with the amusing image of my father seated at the table with four redheads, none of whom were exactly- ah “cheerful”- in the morning, carried me outside.

As so often seemed to be the case with prophets- or shamans- Korst’s remarks about the Test of Strength had possessed a high quotient of the disturbing, while at the same time maintaining the correct ratio of vagueness. But what it came down to was that I was supposed to go into a cave either under or near the lake, where I would confront the ancient, evil, unpronounceable monster- which had become active again for the first time in generations- no doubt just for my very own personal benefit and growth. Somehow, I felt like I had already accomplished that task- and I was equally sure that the response to my protests would approximate- “That is very true- but what have you done for me … lately?”

And another question that concerned me- exactly how many caverns might there be that matched that sketchy description? What if I got the wrong one? Somehow I doubted that whatever monsters lived in those caves would just let me get by with an apology and a boyish grin. And of course there would be monsters in every one of the caves- otherwise, why even bother to have a cave? Perhaps if Solstheim had fewer caves, the Skaal would have fewer problems. And perhaps Athynae was not the only one who did not do well on early mornings with an insufficient supply of tea….

At that last thought, I felt a sudden sting on my left ear, exactly as if someone had flicked it with their finger. I turned to look for the culprit, but all I saw was an empty, snow-covered landscape. The experience broke me out of my wallow of self-pity, but did not do much to settle my jangled emotions. Auditory hallucinations were barely acceptable- some of history’s greatest heroes had “heard voices.” But phantasmal physical assaults were too much- especially when they were of the sort that made me feel like a small child chastised for “being cranky.” Perhaps facing an ancient undead wizard would not be so bad, after all.

* * * * *


My eyes slowly adjusting to the light coming into my cabin, I reached for the table beside the bed and promptly rolled onto the floor. I rose shaking my head, thinking:

Oh. Ship. Bunk smaller than my bed at Indarys Manor….AND NO HACKLE-LO TEA!!!

Aunt Baria’s retainers had taken to “delivering” my tea before I woke. I guess it was their way of saying:

“Although we are happy to have you here, we don’t like you before you’ve had your tea.”

I wondered if I could resist injuring someone before I got to the galley for a cup. I started to dress and realized the ship had slowed considerably. I looked toward the small porthole and saw dark green trees and snow-covered land. With that sight, the blood began to rush through my ears and my hands started to shake- and it was not due to a lack of tea.

I’m coming Athlain, and I do hope you are not in one of your “states”- paralyzed by thinking about the awful mess you are in!

Then- I couldn’t help it- I reached out and flipped my finger, imagining Athlain standing there, wanting him there so I could REALLY flick his ear like I did when we were kids. That’s what I always did when he started trying to mumble his way out of one of our adventures, like with the cliff racers. In those days, he would try and use his verbal talents to avoid getting involved in my plans. But since he had joined the Legion, he seemed to think he had to do everything himself. I wondered if he was like that because of me. Or maybe he was like that so if he wanted to turn tail and run there wasn’t anyone there to see- or to stop him. But- as soon as that thought came to me, I knew it was false. I was certain that he got scared- even he wasn’t foolish enough to not be afraid, but he was also far too honorable to run. Even when running was a good idea! Idiot!

I shook myself out of my reverie, scrambling to get my things together; there was no time to waste. As soon as the gangway was lowered, I would go straight to the fort; maybe he was still there. Deep down, I knew he wasn’t- he felt… farther. But at least I was making progress; I was getting there, closer than I had been idling the hours away with his sisters.

I heard the sailors shouting and although I couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying, I knew they were calling out the directions to lead us to the dock. The Khajiit shipmaster knocked and spoke:

“Hurry, please. A storm approaches and this one would prefer to have his ship at sea. Make haste.”

“Thank you Captain; I’m almost ready now.”

I gathered Uncle Seth’s memoirs and Mother’s journal and wrapped them tight in a leather pouch that I normally kept my ingredients in, knowing that if his books were damaged in any way Uncle Trey would be less than happy with me. I could always pick up another pouch at Fort Frostmoth. And of course I didn’t want to lose Mother’s journal before I had a chance, or at least was ready, to read it. Whenever that would be. That thought stopped me for a moment. It was not like me to hesitate- that was an Athlain trait. I had heard the old women say that married people became more like one another as they grew old… but- I wasn’t married- and I certainly wasn’t old!

I walked down the ramp, thoughts still whirling. I kept seeing the scenes of death and destruction that had come to me in my dreams at Indarys Manor and the foreboding of danger for Athlain. I didn’t know what it meant; all I knew was that it had drawn me back to Solstheim. I had to get to him before something horrible happened. He was going into danger- alone- and he just could not be smart about it! He needed me, whether he knew it or not.

Hmmm. Seems like being a morning person is not traits either family shares...

Regardless, this update was wonderful as usual!! Although what it lacks in action, it makes up for in introspection. Which by no means is a bad thing! Its posts like these that develop the depth of characters and their stories!

Please, continue!

WOO HOO! Nice new Avatar Blackie !!!



@ Treydog & Athynae - "I'll be back" (spoken in an Arnold voice) - when I have time to read and digest the new chapter, lol.

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again - I love Athlain's dry humour. It just works so well and like many things in this story does so much more than meets the eye, it lightens the mood a little when needed but that reflects Athlain's character perfectly. And it almost serves as a coping machanism for him, it was perhaps less intense before he came off the skooma but since then when things get dark and a bit heavy he breaks them down with it.

His worrying over his sanity worked well too. It shows how he is managing the island very well but also how much he misses company (one person's particularly I suspect). The mead hall massicre makes that all the more intense. And now he's off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard... oh wait.

Athynae's part was also good. She's drawing closer, but I wonder how much trouble she's going to have in finding him. He certainly knows the island better and will be more accepted by the Skall.

I'll wait and see, SGM