Chapter 12. Ritual



It was early in the morning, not long after sunrise. Svenja and I were having a nice quiet breakfast by ourselves while the rest of the mead hall slept.

"Rashelle, today I am going with you to finish the Stones."

"Oh Svenja, that's wonderful!"

"And if we bag a snow wolf or two, so much the better."

"Svenja, it bothers me that the All-Maker appeared to me like that."

"Why Rashelle? This indicates approval of your quest: this is a good thing."

"Yes, but ... back in Vvardenfell, I've already had dealings with gods. I was chosen by Azura to perform a quest. She guided me through it. She interfered with my life, fortunately to my benefit ... but I do not wish to go through something like that again. I want to be ordinary, not an agent of another god. I don't want the attention of additional gods."

"Rashelle," she said softly, "When it comes to gods, we hardly ever have a say in the matter. I think that all you can do is to make the best of it,"

I frowned. She was correct ... but I was weary of gods.

"Anyway," she continued, "this is why I'm going with you. The All-Maker's use of my likeness seems to be a hint that I should be with you for the remaining Stones."

Having just finished the remainder of my porridge, I removed The Story of Aevar Stone-Singer from my pack and placed it on the table. I don't recall if I had ever tried porridge back in Vvardenfell. I was not sure I liked it at first, as its appearance was not appealing and its texture strange. I soon became accustomed to it, as the flavor was good and it was filling.

I opened the book to reveal the map.

"There are only two Stones left to do: the Beast Stone and the Wind Stone. The Beast Stone is not far from here so we'll go there first, OK?"

She nodded.

On the way to the Stone we stopped at Lake Fjalding to play with the horkers. I was on a quest and I had made a promise, but I had to see the horkers again. They are so cute and so friendly.

"They are adorable, Rashelle," said Svenja. "I've lived with them all my life so I guess I've kind of taken them for granted. When I was a little girl I used to play with them, like this. Thank you for refreshing my memory, Rashelle."

A horker groaned happily as Svenja rubbed its belly.

"You've got to stop to rub the horkers, Svenja."

Eventually we decided that it was time to go. I hugged the horker nearest to me and, with regret, stood up.

"Bye bye, horkers. I'll be back."

They raised their heads and groaned as if to say "farewell". So cute! Svenja and I strode back onto the land and we then turned north.

This Stone was closer to Thirsk than I had expected: we had actually not gone that far out of our way to see the horkers. I examined the Stone. On its side was carved what seemed to be a stylized picture of a bear.

"May I?" said Svenja.

I smiled at the sensation of deja vu and nodded. Just as her doppleganger had, the real Svenja placed her hands on the Stone. She shook her head after a minute.

"Nothing."

"Your twin tried that yesterday, with an equal lack of success"

She nodded and I then placed my hands on the Stone.

As before, there was a voice in my head. It said: "Travel south and ease the pain of the Good Beast."

From my previous reading of the story, I knew that we would eventually find a bear being attacked by rieklings. I contemplated running, so as to arrive and assist the bear sooner ... but I had a feeling that this would not be appropriate for the ritual: things had to be done a certain way. Side by side, Svenja and I strode south at a regular walking pace.

As we reached the lake, I beheld a strange sight: the horkers out on the ice were now lined up in two rows. These two rows were aligned north-south. It was as if they had formed a lane for us to travel along in our quest.

Neither Svenja nor I said a word. At a stately pace, we stepped onto the ice and proceeded along the path formed by the horkers.

When we reached the shore, I paused and looked back. The horkers were now randomly scattered about, as if nothing had happened.

"Rashelle," Svenja said. She tugged gently on my arm.

I nodded, turned and resumed walking. It had begun to snow.

In a short time we came upon a snow bear that was fighting three rieklings. Two dead rieklings lay nearby: the bear had killed them already.

We ran forward. My friend's axe decapitated one riekling as Chrysamere sliced another in two. The third riekling swung his blade at Svenja. She parried and I thrust with my claymore.

I extracted my blade from the now-dead riekling and looked around. There were no further attackers. The bear writhed in pain: there was an arrow embedded in its neck. I'd never seen a riekling use a bow before. Who, or what, had actually shot that arrow?

I dropped my sword and crouched down by the struggling bear. Without conscious thought, words came from my mouth: "Good Beast, I mean you no harm. The All-Maker has sent me to ease your suffering."

The snow bear became still. I placed both hands on the the creature and ... I hesitated. I was not sure if my healing spells would work on a bear. I had never attempted to heal an animal with a spell before.

Suddenly, a healing magic poured from me into the bear ... but it was not my magic: something else was working through me. The arrow was expelled from the bear's neck. The wound in its neck closed up and faded away. Similarly, its other wounds were healed.

Restored to full health, the creature rose up on all four feet. It rumbled softly, as if thanking me. I ran my hands though its fur. Snow bears are kind of cute ... when they are not trying to kill me. For today, we were friends.

I stood up. Svenja handed Chrysamere to me. It was clean: she had wiped it on the clothing of one of the rieklings.

"Thank you, Svenja."

The snow bear raised a forepaw and pointed north. Between this and my previous reading from the book, the message was clear: we would walk with the bear to the Stone.

The snowfall was thicker now, though there was no wind. I sheathed my sword and placed my left hand on the snow bear, as I was standing on the bear's right side. Svenja was standing to the left of the creature. She placed her right hand on the bear.

At a sedate pace, the three of us walked north. The air was filled with snow and it was beautiful. The snow also muffled all sound. We walked though a silent white world.

As we reached the lake, I could see that the horkers were in formation again. The Good Beast lead us onto the lake. The horkers all raised their tusked mouths in the air and began to issue their groaning sounds, but in unison, all at an identical pitch. They were singing! There were no words, obviously. It was an undulation that moved to various pitches, and it entranced me.

It seemed as if we were no longer in Solstheim, or in Tamriel. For a time we were in another reality, a magical white wonderland of snow and ice and song.

We moved forwards on the ice. The snow continued to fall. The song carried on.

I feared that on reaching land, the song would end, but it did not.

We continued to walk. The land sloped up towards the Stone and the song went on. Dimly I was aware that horkers were following us out of the lake.

The snow bear led us to the stone. I took my hand from the creature and took a step forward. I could see that Svenja had done the same thing. As one, we placed our hands on the Stone.

The Stone began to ring, a sound in tune with the song of the horkers. Without thought, I opened my mouth and joined the song. I could hear Svenja also begin to sing.

The Stone began to glow. Glowing balls of white, suggesting snow, if snow were to glow, began to rise along its sides. The horkers, Svenja and I stopped singing. The world returned to silence.

The glow faded, but the glowing balls continued to run up the sides of the Stone.

The Good Beast turned around to face me. It nodded its head. It looked to Svenja and nodded again. It then vanished into thin air.

I turned to Svenja. She looked at me in wonderment. I imagine my face held a similar expression. Turning towards the lake, I could see that the horkers were wandering back to the ice ... as if nothing had happened.

The snow stopped falling and I could see the cloud cover begin to break: the sun would be shining soon. I sat down and rested my back against the Stone. Svenja sat down beside me.

This was part of the reason I was an adventurer: to experience such truly unique and magical moments. Moments like this were far and few between but they made the intervening "in between" time worth it.

"Svenja: that wasn't in the book."

She started to giggle. I smiled. I started to giggle as well: I could not help it. Svenja slapped my shoulder: she was now laughing, rather loudly. I don't know why we were laughing, perhaps a reaction to that utterly strange occurrence, perhaps a sort of tension release. I was now laughing to hard that I was having trouble breathing. In no time at all, we were both hiccupping and tears were running down our eyes.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and could breath again.

"Well, Rashelle," said Svenja as she wiped her eyes, "you sure know how to show a girl a good time."

I smiled and said; "We should be going again."

"Yes, I guess we should."

I wiped my eyes. The sun was now shining and the last shreds of the clouds were fading away. I wanted to stay, seated and leaning against the Stone. I wanted to meditate upon what had happened, but there was still one Stone remaining.

I forced myself to stand up. I extended a hand. "Time to go."

Svenja grasped my hand and pulled herself up.

We walked in a direction somewhat north of true west. We fought through many attackers. Most of them were rieklings, which indicated that we were moving into riekling territory. Svenja was expert with her axe and my blade was as effective as ever.

The Wind Stone rose from the snow covered rocky side of a mountain. A representation of wind had been inscribed in its side. I placed my hands on the stone.

"Travel south and east of the lake of ice to Glenschul's Tomb and free the Winds from the Greedy Man's bag."

"Svenja," I asked, "do you know of a Glenschul's Tomb somewhere southeast of lake Fjalding?"

"Yes, Rashelle. It is not far from Thirsk, just over a steep hill. The Stone wants us to go there?"

"Yes."

It was a long trip. Since we were simply retracing our steps of before, there were few attacks.

When we had arrived within sight of Thirsk, I saw that Svenja was looking towards the mead hall.

"Svenja," I said, concerned, "if you need to get things done, I would feel bad if I were to keep you away from them. I can continue this alone."

"Don't worry Rashelle. I've told the chieftain that we would be gone all day. I can't stay in there all the time. Besides, I can't wait to see what happens next."

"After singing horkers, anything else will be anticlimactic."

She grinned.

We continued, past Thirsk, heading southeast.

As Svenja had said, the tomb was not far from the mead hall. We fought a group of rieklings as we went around a hill and into a sort of canyon or passage that separated it from a second hill. In the side of this passage was the entrance to the tomb. Its outside appearance resembled that of any other Nord barrow that I had seen.

We entered, to be set upon almost immediately by a pair of draugr. We fought through those and then through the remaining undead occupants. It was a small tomb, so it did not take long to clear it out.

"This appears to be an ordinary Nord tomb. Where is this wind?"

"Rashelle, I don't remember this part of the story. Maybe you should consult the book."

I snapped my fingers and said "no, wait ... I remember now. The voice from the Stone mentioned a bag."

I pointed to a bag that was resting against one of walls, by one of those not-ice coffins. It was unusually large and it bulged. The neck of the bag had been tied tightly with a rope.

"That has to be it. We untie that bag and let the wind out."

I approached the bag and touched the rope.

"Svenja, brace yourself."

"OK."

I opened the bag and, as in the legend, a wind that had somehow been held inside the bag was released. It howled and knocked me over as it blew past. Fortunately, I was unharmed. Svenja helped me up.

"Thank you Svenja."

I pointed to the coffin. "What is that stuff, anyway?"

"Stalhrim."

"Err, but what is it?"

"I don't know. No one knows how to make it anymore."

Intriguing.

Our journey to the Wind Stone was uneventful but long. The sun was low on the horizon when we finally arrived. Of all the Stones, this one had the greatest distance between it and its corresponding place of ritual. Rising along its sides were bubbles. They were white with a bluish tinge to them and they glowed brightly.

"Success!" Svenja exclaimed.

"All six Stones have been activated. The Ritual is complete."

"The All-Maker must be pleased."

Svenja turned from the Stone.

"Come with me to Thirsk again?" she asked.

"No Svenja. Much as I would like to, I have obligations at Raven Rock."

She frowned.

"Svenja. I want to protect Solstheim. I want to reduce the amount of damage that the Empire does. That is why I have to go back to the colony: I have to keep an eye on them. You will benefit from this, as will the Skaal."

"I understand. Please do come back, though."

"You know I will. By your leave, I will teleport out?"

"Yes, I and will Recall to Thirsk."

We cast in unison and I appeared in Raven Rock. Falco almost ran into me. He jumped almost a foot in the air. "By the gods, that creeps me out."

I laughed.

"Rashelle, it is good to see you. I have something to show you, follow me."

"What is it?"

He smiled, a big grin like a child wanting to show off a new toy. "You'll see."

I had been away from Raven Rock for almost two days and I could see that there were changes: there were more buildings and the communal fire was gone. I would miss it. Falco, sill grinning, led me to one of the new buildings. He opened the door and he actually bowed and waved for me to enter.

I entered to find myself in ... a bar. Now the memory came back to me: when I had left, the men were working on a bar. Now I was standing in that fully completed, open and occupied building. It was not Thirsk, but it was a pleasant place anyway.

The staff working in the place were all new people. Our colony was growing, changing from a small band of men, and two women, who sat around a fire at mealtimes ... to something that felt more like a town.

I went to the bar. The bartender was an Imperial woman with red hair.

"Greeting, I'm Alcedonia Amnis. What will you have?"

"I'm Rashelle. Mazte, please."

I could see that Apronia was seated at one of the tables, a real fork held daintily in her hand, eating in a ladylike fashion from an actual plate. She smiled and waved to me.

I went over to her. As there were men seated next to her on either side, I could not sit. I only wanted to chat briefly with her, so this was good.

"I'll bet you enjoy having utensils again"

"You know it, Rashelle. It's so good to feel somewhat civilized again."

"Are these guys giving you trouble?" I asked.

She laughed. "No. All is well."

I went go get food. There was a festive atmosphere tonight: most likely because we could now all eat inside.

At some point in the revelry I happened to find myself seated next to Falco.

"Falco, have there been any more deaths? Has Carnius pulled anything else?"

"No. All is going rather well ... about time, that!"

I grinned.

"By the way, Rashelle, I haven't had a chance to let you know, but I've promoted you several times since we started. The gold for the salaries came in on the ship today: I can pay you tomorrow and it will be a decent amount."

"Thank you Falco; this is good to know."

The money was of no consequence to me. The rank, however, was important in that it would allow me to have more control over how things were done at the colony. I would have more influence. Higher rank would let me eliminate or reduce the damage done to Solstheim, Thirsk, and the Skaal.

I looked around the room, taking it all in. A mere few days before, this had been a patch of snow and trees. I then realized that I did not see Apronia anywhere.

"Where's Apronia?"

"Went back to her house early, I expect," said Falco.

Strange, but she had been doing that every night since her arrival. I shrugged and went to the bar for another mug of mazte.

Excellent update! I really enjoyed reading about the Beast Stone mission. Your description and addition to it really caught my attention. Well done!

Yeah, as had been said, anything after singing Horkers is anti-climatic. I loved it.

Hah....a wonderful humouristicly written story...gosh I like it! Rashelle is just awesome, her style is cool and she makes me laugh..

Now this Apronia-mystey is intriguing.....can´t wait to find out about it!

Thank you all for the replies.


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Chapter 13. Stalhrim



I woke up to the sound of Falco calling my name. I removed one hand from Chrysamere and shrugged off my sleeping fur.

"I'm sorry, Rashelle, but we have a problem. I've just had a runner from Carnius come see me. Some fellow named 'Constans'. Apparently I need to get a report to Carnius in five hours or less. He's already teleported out."

"So?"

"This is important. If Carnius doesn't get this report, the colony may be finished. I need you to deliver it for me."

I swung my feet down from the large flat rock that I had been sleeping on. I rubbed my eyes and then reached out a hand. Falco gave me a rolled and sealed parchment.

"And Rashelle, watch that Constans. He's Carnius's man, slick and sneaky as anything."

I stood up and sheathed Chrysamere. I rolled up my bear fur and stowed it, along with the note, in my pack.

"By your leave?"

He nodded. I cast Divine Intervention and was teleported to the fort.

I entered the Imperial Cult building and ran up the stairs. There was a man standing in the hallway outside of Carnius's office. He was an Imperial, dressed in the finest of garments. He looked at me and, with a disdainful sneer, said; "Do you want something?"

This had to be Constans. I already wanted to beat him, and I'd only just met him.

"My business is with Carnius," I said as I brushed past him. I opened the door and discovered that the office was empty.

"Factor Magius is out, can I help you?" he said in a voice that indicated that this was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Where is he?" I snapped.

"He is out."

"WHERE?"

"Oh, somewhere ... I don't know. He's scouting out possible locations for further expansion."

I wanted to grab this toad by his neck and choke him. He returned my Look with a disdainful and disinterested, yet still challenging, gaze of his own. I didn't have the time now, but in the future ... this man and I would have business to "discuss".

I turned to storm away. After taking two steps there was a sudden flash of magic. My birth sign harmlessly absorbed the spell: it seemed to be some sort of Slowness spell.

"Oh dear, you seemed to have tripped that trap," said Constans in an insincere voice. "It's one of our security measures that we recently put in. It has a tendency to go off when it should not. Oh well, so sorry. I don't have a counter-spell handy."

Sparks flew from my fingers and I smiled.

"Atronach," I said before running to the stairwell.

I smelled a setup. Carnius was pulling something: though I could not ascertain what it was, I could tell that he did not want that report to arrive on time.

I ran down the stairs. Maybe Joleen, Marisa or one of my Legion friends had seen Carnius leave. I had just under five hours. If I did not even know where to start looking, I would most likely not find him in time.

From the stairs I shot past a startled guard and to the Imperial Chapel area.

Joleen and Marisa were both on duty. Even in my perturbed state I could not help but notice that they were such a cute couple. They had been holding hands when I entered. I was glad that I had rescued her.

"Rashelle, what is wrong?"

"No time to explain. I need to find Carnius. Have you seen him recently?"

"I'm sorry Rashelle, I have not," said Marisa.

"Neither have I", said Joleen.

I thanked them and ran for the door. Outside, I almost ran into Saenus.

"Oh, I am sorry Saenus."

"What is wrong? Can I help?"

"Have you seen Carnius Magius? It's urgent."

"He requisitioned an escort and set off someplace."

"Do you know where?"

"No, but he left by the north archway."

"Damnit."

"Severia might know. I believe she authorized the escort."

I thanked him and raced for the General Quarters, and Carius's office.

"Rashelle," said Severia, "what is wrong?"

"I need to find Carnius, fast. Do you know where he and his escort went?"

"He said that he was investigating possible sites for future expansion in Solstheim. That is all I know."

"Thank you Severia."

I went outside and to the north gateway. I inspected the ground, thinking that perhaps I could track Carnius. There were many sets of footprints: too many troopers went in and out of this gate on a daily basis. I would never be able to isolate the correct set of prints.

I cast Recall and was teleported to Raven Rock.

I found Falco and explained to him what had occurred.

"Rashelle, you have to find him. I don't know how, but you have to! It's vital that we make this deadline."

Falco had no other advice; I was on my own.

Geilir the Mumbling was a seer. Perhaps he could use his abilities to locate Carnius. I cast a spell to fortify my speed, allowing me to run faster than normal. Like the wind, I ran northwest.

Despite my magically enhanced speed, there were still creatures fast enough that I had to stop and fight them. This delay was intolerable. "Damnit, die faster!" I shouted as I killed a spriggan for a third time.

I turned to see a Fryse Hag running towards me, dagger raised.

"I," I said as I cut her in two.

"Do," I said as two more set on me from either side.

"Not have," I said as I felt a shock ball spell and a frost spell hit me.

"TIME FOR THIS!!"

Fire came to me, a large ball of flame that burned everything near me, even the snow-covered grass. I ran, leaving charred corpses behind me.

I wished that I could stack spells as I could potions: I would run faster. I wished I had thought to make Fortify Speed potions, but how could I know ahead of time that I would need them?

Just as I reached sight of Geilir's place, Geilir himself emerged. He faced me and pointed west. "They are at the shipwreck!"

He had already known that I was coming, and why. Fortune was with me.

"Thank you!"

I ran.

Carnius and two Legion troopers were standing by the shipwreck. It seemed a strange place to build a second colony ... but maybe he had other plans.

"Good morning Rashelle," said Carnius as he raised an eyebrow. "What brings you here?"

From my pack I removed the sealed report. I offered it to him.

"Falco's Report."

"Oh, why thank you. I had feared that this would not get to me in time."

He chuckled.

I smiled. It hurt.

"You may go now."

I left.

Once out of their sight, I Recalled to Raven Rock.

I found Falco, who looked at me anxiously.

"Done. He was at the shipwreck."

"How did you find him?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Err, OK then. Thank you. You may have saved the colony and I appreciate this. Could you help me with another, lesser, problem?"

I nodded.

"There is an old Dunmer named Seler Favelnim in the bar. He's gone crazy: picking fights with everyone. That is odd for someone his age: he's rather old, even for a Dunmer."

"Bit early for that, isn't it?"

I looked oddly at me.

"Bars usually open around noonish or after."

"This one serves breakfast."

I laughed.

"Could you handle this problem for me?"

I nodded. I was glad that he didn't ask me to not kill this Mer: he knew me well enough by now.

As I neared the bar I saw another new face. So many new people had arrived here in the past few days. She was an older-looking Dunmer woman. She stepped in front of me.

"Stop."

"I have business in that bar. Please stand aside."

"I saw you talking to Falco. You have been sent to kill my husband," she said as she drew a dagger. "He is my world. You will enter that building over my dead body."

I frowned. I could easily have swept this woman aside but her loyalty ... and her love ... impressed me. I was touched. How wonderful it would be to love someone that much.

"I will not kill him, but I must stop him."

"He is a good man. It's just that his age, it bothers him. He's been brooding on it. Normally, he would not hurt anyone on purpose."

"Sera, I must go in there. I must stop him. I promise I will not kill him. I will try to resolve this matter peacefully. He may hurt himself if I do not go in there. Will you let me pass?"

"You are Rashelle, the Nerevarine, aren't you?"

I held my hand up, to show her the ring of Moon And Star. Almost all Dunmer, even those not from Morrowind, know of this ring. They know that anyone but the Nerevarine would die if they were to put on this ring. Her eyes widened.

I raised a finger to my lips and whispered: "Shhhh. Yes, I am ... but please keep quiet about the whole Nerevarine thing."

I had been enjoying my relative anonymity in Solstheim and did not want her to reveal me.

"I am Dralora." She sheathed her dagger.

"Dralora, I swear by Azura that I will not kill your husband. I will bring him to you, alive and unhurt. Please, let me pass?"

She nodded. "He's the Mer dressed all in blue."

I entered the building. Alcedonia Amnis was tending bar. A relieved expression crossed her face when she saw me. She nodded towards my left. Turning in the indicated direction, I could see an older looking Dunmer in blue, standing. No one was near him.

I walked towards him.

"Go on! Let's fight," he said. "I'll show you I'm not too old to still mess you up."

I was silent.

He punched me in the shoulder. It hurt but not that much. I frowned. I pitied this man.

"I don't want your pity. Defend yourself!"

He hit me again. His hand banged on my cuirass and he screamed in pain.

"Please, stop this," I said.

"Why? Look at me. I'm an old man. My health is failing, I'm of no use in the mines, and I'm a burden to my family. I don't want to waste away in bed; don't you see? That's no way for a man to die."

"What about your wife?"

"My wife will be better off without me, whether she realizes it or not. What, you think you know better?"

"This isn't your only option."

"I suppose you're going to try and tell me that my family is more important, right? Look, I don't want things to end like this, but I don't want Dralora to have to see me wasting away in front of her. I don't want her to have to take care of me because I can't do it myself. Just kill me, won't you? Put an end to this!"

I shook my head.

"You won't, eh? Well, maybe I won't give you a choice!"

He tried to punch me in the jaw, I dodged. He punched again, a glancing blow to my shoulder.

I felt sad. I did not want to kill him. I did not want to hurt him. I wanted him to stop so that I could tell his wife that all was well. Perhaps I could use a paralyze spell, but then he'd try again when the paralysis wore off.

He swung his fist again. My open palm blocked. He tried again. I blocked again. He began to swing both fists furiously. My palms blocked each swing. I suppose it resembled some strange sort of dance.

He puffed and swung feebly. The effort was tiring him.

I blocked a few more punches.

He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. He was breathing hard.

"Haven't got it," puff puff, "like I used to."

"Muthsera, you have lived a long time and your remaining lifespan is most likely still longer than the total lifespan of a Man. There is a woman outside who loves you deeply: that is more than some of us have. You have a good life. Please, stop this."

"Argh, you are right. I feel a fool."

"Let me heal your hands."

He held his hands out and I cast a small spell to heal the cuts that my armor had given him.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go."

I led him towards the door.

Dralora was overjoyed to see him. She threw her arms around him. I was reminded of the reunion of Joleen and Marisa.

I turned to walk away.

"Rashelle?" I heard him say

I turned back.

"Thank you. You have shown me that I have much to live for. Dralora is here with me, so I am happy."

"And I thank you for saving him," said Dralora.

I smiled and said, "You are both welcome."

Falco was relieved and pleased that I had resolved the situation so nicely.

"Rashelle, we have ... not a problem, but something of interest."

My stomach growled.

"Unless it is urgent, tell me over breakfast."

He laughed and said, "Fair enough."

In the bar, as I waited for my hard-boiled kwama egg, Falco explained the situation.

"The miners have dug into an old buried Nord tomb. They've found some odd material that they can't dig though. I went down and took a look. It looks like ice but nothing can scratch it."

"Stalhrim."

Falco raised an eyebrow.

"I have seen it in tombs around here. I've been learning things from the people who live here in Solstheim. They used to use it to make coffins. I've been told that the secret to its making has been lost."

"I wonder," said Falco, "If you had discovered a hard and nearly indestructible substance, if you could make super-weapons: swords that retain an edge for a long time and cannot easily be shattered by other weapons, what would you do?"

"Do you think that this is what Carnius is after?"

"It could be ... but in order to use this ... err ..."

"Stalhrim."

"Thank you. In order to use this stalhrim, you would need a means of cutting it, of working it."

"Maybe they have it in Skyrim as well as Solstheim. Maybe Carnius knows a Nord who still has the old knowledge."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. I waited.

"Rashelle, I remember back when I was scouting around Solstheim, before I finally chose this location, I spoke to a few of the Nords who live here. I seen to recall that a fellow, named Graring, said something about "ice armor". At the time, I did not think much about it. Now I wonder if that is connected to this stalhrim stuff. He's some sort of outcast from the Skaal village but I did not get the details. Could you go and talk to him?"

"I will do this, but I must do other things first. I need to get back to the Skaal."

"I understand, Rashelle. This is not an urgent matter. Whenever you can get around to it is fine ... but I just have a feeling that it may become important."

I nodded.

"Thank you Rashelle. Graring is a ways northeast of here, where the Harstad and Islid rivers join. This joining is northwest of Lake Fjalding."

After breakfast, I headed northeast. Consulting my mental map, I realized that this Graring fellow would be on my way to the Skaal. Despite the lower priority, I would talk to Graring next.

As always, I traveled across a landscape of alternating areas of snow and not snow. Both were beautiful in their own way, though I preferred the snow. The usual assortment of attacking creatures and men plagued me as a journeyed.

On the way, I encountered a Nord tomb. Curiosity got the better of me and I entered. Oddly enough, there were no undead in it. Another curious thing was the helm that I found in a chest. It was a bear helm that had a strong enchantment on it that would allow the wearer to sense the locations of all beasts within a hundred paces or so. The enchantment was the sort that is constantly active: one did not need to invoke it.

While nifty, it did not strike me as a necessary effect: I'd know about any creatures soon enough ... when they attacked. I also do not like to wear helms. I put the helm back in the chest where I had found it.

I arrived in the desired vicinity around noon or so ... and a feeling came over me. I slipped on my chameleon ring and began to move stealthily. Such intuitions I have had from time to time and I've found it best to follow them without hesitation. This has saved my life on more than one occasion.

Moving silently, I crept around a mound of snow.

I saw three Nords lying on the ground, near a fire. They were bound with ropes. An imperial woman stood close to them. She was speaking but I could not make out the words. She wore warm clothing under a netch leather cuirass: this was a form of light armor often favored by thieves and assassins.

Looking past the fire, I could see a house.

Using every inch of cover that I could, and trying to forget that I was a mostly black figure against the white of the snow, I moved closer.

The Three Nords were wearing a combination of fur clothing and fur armor. This indicated that they were locals: they probably lived in the house.

Two of the Nords were men. One had the beginnings of grey hair. I pegged him as the leader of the trio. The woman looked to be the same age as the younger man.

"Never, outlander. You would misuse it!" said the leader.

The Imperial kicked him. there was a crunch as something broke but he remained silent.

"I will have the means of extracting the ice-nine, fetcher," said the Imperial woman.

What was ice-nine? Perhaps it was another term for stalhrim: maybe that was what the word translated to in Tamrielic. It seemed I had arrived at the right place, and just in time.

The Imperial kicked the Nord woman so that she rolled towards the fire. She crouched down, grabbed her by the hair and jerked.

"Is this your wife? Or perhaps your daughter? I think maybe I'll burn her pretty face off."

Enough. I drew Chrysamere and ran silently towards them. I had made half the distance before the Imperial noticed me.

In one motion, she let go of the woman and drew a short sword. The combat was fast and furious. From her apparent skill, I'd guess her an assassin. Still, I was better: Before long, she lay still in a pool of her own blood.

I cut the three Nords free and then gave a potion to the leader. He drank it and said; "Thank you, lass, whoever you are."

"I am Rashelle."

"I am Graring. This is my son, Aenar. Hidar here is my daughter."

"Pleased to meet you."

Introductions concluded, I pointed to the Imperial and asked: Who was that?"

"An outlander who wanted something," said Graring. "Are you here for a reason, lass?"

His gratitude had been quickly tempered by suspicion. I could respect that. I was just another outlander, after all.

"I come from the Raven Rock colony, where I have been trying to keep the Empire from damaging Solstheim."

"I knew that the ebony would draw the Empire sooner or later," he replied.

"The miners have stumbled onto a burial cavern, a deep Nord tomb. There is a coffin made of something that looks like ice, yet is unbreakable. Nothing can scratch it. I was asked by Falco Galenus to come and see you about it."

All three were silent.

"I've been told that it is called stalhrim," I added.

"Many have come for stalhrim. Some try to pay us. Ha! We have no need of their money. Some try to take it, like this one."

He spat on the corpse.

"It's a bit of a coincidence that you just happened to come along when she attacked. Perhaps this was all a setup so that you could gain our confidence."

I frowned and remained silent. There was nothing I could say.

"Still, there is something about you. I believe you may be different."

He paused, obviously in deep thought.

"Wait here, outlander."

I nodded.

Graring went into the house. The two Nords and I waited in silence.

He returned a moment later, holding an odd-looking axe. It appeared to be iron, yet later I would discover that it was much harder than iron. It had a curiously bent appearance. It would not be an effective weapon, nor would it be suitable for chopping wood. It was smaller than an axe ought to be. Perhaps it was a specialized tool for a certain ritual or a specific task.

He offered this axe to me. Not understanding, yet not wishing to offend, I accepted it.

"I am taking a chance in giving this to you, but you are not like the others who came before you. It is a special tool that, because of its craftsmanship and enchantment, will allow you to cut stalhrim. Chip off some from the coffin in your mine in Raven rock and come back here with it."

I could feel no enchantment but I wisely refrained from pointing this out.

I bid him good day. I started to walk away, heading northeast.

"Rashelle?"

I paused and looked back at him.

"Raven rock is the other way."

"I am going to the Skaal village."

Graring raised an eyebrow,

"I have been performing a task for them."

"You are definitely not like the other outlanders," he said, visibly impressed.

"Rashelle; before you go, I must tell you of us and the Skaal."

I waited.

"We were cast out of the Skaal village because we discovered that stalhrim can be forged, much like a metal. The Skaal consider it blasphemous to make things from it. To them it is holy, only to be used for coffins. Do not let them see that axe."

"Understood."

"Bring the stalhrim to me and I will tell you more."

I nodded and then departed.

It was still in the early afternoon when I reached the Skaal village. I was greeted with the same sullen silence as before. Not wasting time, I strode to the shaman's hut and knocked on the door.

Through the door, I heard him say; "Enter, Rashelle."

How did he know? Was there a peephole? Did he have some Seer ability? He might ... as he was a shaman, after all.

I opened the door and entered. He was seated at a table. He stood up and approached me.

"Early this morning," he said, "I went to the Beast stone. It is active again. I can sense that the energy of the land, and of the Skaal, has returned. This indicates that you have completed the rituals for all six stones."

I nodded.

"Outlander, I did not believe that you would do it. I did not believe that the All-Maker would permit you to do it. I am impressed."

I waited.

"Tell me, did the All-Maker appear to you?"

How did he guess? I said nothing. I was not going to tell him about the duplicate Svenja: it would sound like a made-up story.

My eyes must have betrayed me for he sucked a breath in and said, "That is incredible. You are like no other outlander I have met."

"I was not going to tell you. You would think I was fabricating a story to falsely impress you."

"I am a shaman: I can discern a lie. Come," he gestured to a chair, "sit and tell me how it happened."

I did.

"That is wonderful. Do you see the resonance in the magic? An Outlander, aided by someone from Thirsk, both working to restore the power of the land. Outlanders, Thirsk, the Skaal: three forces, united to restore the Oneness. Truly the All-Maker's hand is apparent in this matter."

"So now what?"

"You have passed a test of loyalty to the Skaal. There will be other tests. You must speak to our chieftain. Come, let us go to him now."

Busy busy busy. Rashelle never gets a break it seems. Excellent update.

Pacing is difficult for me. As mentioned some time ago: my reading speed is fast and my writing speed is slow. This makes estimating time difficult. To counteract this, I've taken to putting little annotations in my text files that indicate what the "current" time is (as well as the current weather). This helps me keep it all straight. These get removed shortly before posting. For example: the events of this chapter took place from around 6 or 7 AM until 1 or 2 PM, so I think it is a plausible amount of activity. She did three quest "items", but two of them were rather short ("race against time" and "bar brawl"). At least she got breakfast in.

Did you notice that this is the first chapter where Rashelle essentially tells Falco "I'll do it later" to something? Hmmm, I guess it has gotten a teensy bit busy.

Before I began this story, I resolved to put everything in (well, I may leave one sidequest out, because it takes her too close to Lokken). Recall that in my tribunal fanfic I dropped a lot of the sidequests and a good chunk of the main quest. In the Lokken fanfic, I also dropped a small section of the main quest. Since I am now leaving most everything in, this means more stuff for Rashelle to do, over a longer time, so she's gonna be busy. It also means that I am now managing/tracking more threads/stuff/whatever in a story than ever before. Hmm: need an emotican for juggling here

Oh: and on top of all of that, I've got additional original side quests like the Fryse Hags thing! Rashelle has even more to do.

Enough rambling. Hope you are all enjoying the story. More chapters when I can.

Another entertaining read as usual. Though it was quite confusing when Rashelle charged right in and killed that imperial woman who was outnumbered by what I assumed were more of the psychotic variety of Nord that seems to be all over Solstheim. Oh well, it seems she guessed right though.

Arg! I can't stand the suspense with the Apronia and Fryse Hag thing/s! It seems like Rashelle has lost interest in the Fryse Hags though, and isn't going to take any in Apronia.

Also, it's not really about this story specificaly but, why does everyone feel the need to spit on corpses?

Uhhh....read my story! Serene doesn´t spit on corpses! She doesn´t even like to kill!

Anyway I kinda admire Rashie....she´s so cool and funny, besides she´s a helluva industrious lass! My it would be fun if she and Renie met somehow!

I think I guessed Carnius' interest in Stalhrim earlier. Anyway, he is one nasty piece. I bet Rashelle is really looking forward to the day she can put a boot in his face.

And to join the 'my character doesn't spit on corpses' discussion. Luper doesn't spit, he gloats.

According to game Lore, Rashelle arrived on Vvardenfell on a prison ship as errr, a prisoner of the Empire. While she has met some Imperials that she likes very much, she's still got an anti-Imperial sentiment that sometimes influences her judgement. Recall also that she was going to visit these particular Nords about the matter of the ice so she was fairly sure that they were not the crazy attacking kind. Since her and Falco had already pieced together what was going on in regards to the stalhrim, Rashelle was fairly sure that this Imperial was up to no good.

All that said, I may have to go back and re-write that part a bit, to make her decision seem more obvious/logical. The game has a lone female Imperial assassin attacker so I had gone alone with that. Perhaps if I change this to a larger and more obviously "evil"/criminal group ... hmmm. Not sure. Will have to think about that.

EDIT: I have changed chapter 13. Now it is clearly shown to the reader that the Imperial woman is "the bad guy".


Heheheheheheh


It seemed a good idea at the time: it fit the flow and was plausible with that character.


minque:
Minque: every time I read an installment to your story, I imagine Rashelle tugging on my sleeve and saying things like: "I want to meet her! I want to help her!"

Alas, we can't have two Nerevarines in the same Morrowind and there is already one in Serene's universe. It's too bad, as I know that they would get along really well.


jack cloudy:
Well, you know that spotted owl will be kicked. And it will be well-deserved.

We can´t? No I suppose not....but their children could meet....somewhere....

I wouldn't think them meetings would be too much of a problem, especially in minque's story. For example, both Trey, Sethyas, and Telina have had cameos in her story and all three of them are Nerevarine in their originator's story. Of course, I think Trey has been the only identified Nerevarine in minque's story, but that's besides the point!

Cameo it up!!!

Hmm Mallie , you got a point there. Trey is the Nerevarine in my story....Sethyas is the loyal friend of House Sarethi...I use him as the person he was before getting to that Nerevar-stuff, and I choose to interpret him as just that....(I´m sure Blackie won´t mind )

So really....maybe there´s a fat chance those two amazons really could meet!

Two words: Alternate reality.

Now I've reread that section of the story and it is certainly far less confusing. Plus you added an extra bit of information with the Ice-Nine bit. Which just makes me get another suspence induced stomach ache! I kind of feel guilty that my comment made you change it though... but then again, authors always change their rough drafts based on criticism anyway, so I guess I shouldn't.

Chapter 14. Hurt



Korst Wind-Eye led me into the Great Hall. Once inside, he led me to Tharsten Heart-Fang.

"Mighty chieftain; this outlander has completed the Rituals for all six Stones, and with the blessing of the All-Maker!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Most unexpected."

I waited.

"Rashelle the Outlander, I am very impressed. Truly you are not like the other outlanders."

I remained silent.

"You must now prove your wisdom."

Here it comes.

"I want you to investigate a crime."

Just so long as it does not involve pillows.

"Engar Ice-Mane has been accused of stealing wolf furs from Rigmor Halfhand. We Skaal live by hunting. This is a serious crime. If guilty, Engar will be either exiled or sacrificed to the wolves."

"Yuck!" As usual, I had said what was on my mind without thinking. It did not go over well.

"Outlander! The wolves are sacred to us. We hunt them for furs but we honor them. Wolves are one of the most blessed of the All-Maker's creations. They are fast and agile, and they are careful and clever hunters. This is an honorable death!"

"I am sorry. I will try to understand your ways better."

"Anyway, Engar denies the charges. He has already told me that if he is declared guilty, he chooses the wolves over the exile."

I did not understand why he would choose so, but I nodded.

"Learn what you can, gather the information, and make a wise judgment. The people of the Skaal will now consent to talk to you."

Again, I nodded.

Once outside, Korst Wind-Eye pointed to the Ice-Mane hut and to where Rigmor Halfhand lived. He then said "I must leave you now. I must not influence your judgment."

"I understand."

He walked away, most likely to return to his own hut.

Deciding to speak to the accuser first, I went to the hut of Rigmor Halfhand and knocked on the door. It was answered by a Nord man in furs. His beard did not match the color of his blond hair: most odd.

"I have been sent by the chieftain to investigate the theft of the furs. May I speak to you?"

"Come in, lass."

The most remarkable thing I noticed upon entering his hut were the shelves, packed with books. Where had he gotten so many books out here in Solstheim?

He saw the direction of my gaze and said; "I trade with outlanders. I go to Thirsk, sometimes to the fort, and trade furs for books."

"Most impressive," I said. I wondered if my bear fur, which I had ended up using for sleeping rather than wearing, came from this man?

"I was told that Engar Ice-Mane stole some of your wolf furs?"

"Yes, he did. He has always been a valuable member of the Skaal ... but, he is not a caring man. He leaves his lovely wife for weeks at a time while on the hunt. He probably stole my furs because he wasn't able to provide enough for his family. Such a sad story.

"I can't understand why he would do such a thing. We of the Skaal give to each according to need. If Ice-Mane had asked for more furs, they would have been provided. But, instead, he stole them from my home. It is difficult to explain. I feel sorry for his lovely wife, who will be left all alone."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Risi Ice-Main is a beautiful woman, deserving of better than her husband. If I were her mate, she would lead a much better life."

A wariness came over me, a suspicion.

I asked him a few more questions and almost did not pay attention to the answers. I bid him good day and departed.

I went to the Ice-Mane hut.

Risi Ice-Main was dressed in furs like many of the Skaal, but was barefoot. Even at home she wore a Nordic silver mace. She had shoulder length brown hair.

"I have been asked by the chieftain to investigate a crime that your husband has been accused of."

"An outlander? Well, I guess you are certainly going to be impartial!"

I smiled.

"Engar is a man of honor, so he would not steal any furs. We want for nothing, so he has not even a need to steal! I cannot imagine what would drive Rigmor to make such an accusation. Perhaps he is jealous of my husband, and these charges are meant to disgrace him."

"Muthsera ... why would he be jealous?"

"Rigmor is a man of learning. He may even have more books than the shaman. He is intelligent, but is not well liked by most of us. He had been a good friend to me until this accusation. We had spent ... some time together."

Her face hardened.

"But now he has decided to ruin my family."

"The chieftain told me that your husband has chosen to be sacrificed to the wolves rather than be exiled."

"This is true. The Spirit must live on. I understand the concept. Still, I cannot bear the thought of my husband being eaten by the Caenlorn. It is too much!"

"Caenlorn?"

"The Caenlorn are sacred wolves, blessed by our shaman. They are powerful with the Spirit, and by consuming the flesh of the warrior, that Spirit lives on in another life. It is considered an honorable way to die."

I nodded.

"Exile is a horrible fate, but I would rather see my husband exiled than dead. He does not see it that way, though."

"Is exile so bad?" I asked.

"To be exiled is to live without the Skaal family. None of the Skaal will speak to an exile. They will not aid him, even if encountered far from the Skaal village. Such a man no longer exists. One who has been exiled wanders aimlessly through this life without the Spirit to guide them. It is said that they are outside the Oneness of the land."

I'd managed to do so for my entire life, but I did not voice this thought. I still did not understand why exile from the Skaal was so awful. I only knew that the Skaal were raised to believe that it was so.

"Where is your husband?"

"Outside. Though accused of this crime, he is allowed to roam freely, save that if he leaves the village, he cannot come back."

It made sense, if one accepted the premise that exile was bad.

She described him. I thanked her and went outside.

I soon found a man that matched her description. He was wearing wolf armor, almost all black. There was a longsword at his side. From seeing only the grip and hilt, I guessed it to be a Nordic silver blade. Such blades are a form of silver that has been somehow hardened. While not approaching the toughness of Ebony, they are still effective blades.

His hair was long and a dark brown in color. On his face were some of those blue markings that Nords sometimes paint. Originally they were worn only into battle but it seems that over time it has become another form of fashion, worn all of the time. Or perhaps maybe he wore the paint as a reaction to his current situation.

"Excuse me, are you Engar Ice-Mane?"

"Yes lass, I am he."

"I have been sent to investigate the theft of Rigmor's furs."

"I know what I am accused of," said Engar, "and I know that it is a lie! I have no need for the furs of Rigmor Halfhand. I am a Skaal warrior. My honor and the honor of the Skaal are my life. But I will bear this injustice as any warrior should ... with dignity."

Spoken like a member of House Redoran ... my House. My gut feeling was that this man was actually innocent. I was sure that the chieftain would need more than that before accepting any judgment.

"I understand that you have already chosen to be sacrificed to the wolves."

"If a warrior must be executed, it is the preferred way to die. The wolves will cycle the Spirit, that I may live again in a different form. However, I do not deserve this."

I bid him good day and walked aimlessly around the village. I spoke to a few randomly chosen people. As the chieftain had said, they were now all willing to talk to me: word had gotten around quickly.

All who I spoke to said that Engar was a valiant warrior, not a thief. Many found it impossible to imagine that he would be capable of such a crime. Some were of the opinion that Rigmor had been spending too much time at the Ice-Mane's hut whenever Engar was away. This last added to my growing suspicion.

Though the Korst Wind-Eye had wanted to avoid speaking to me of this matter, I needed his insight. He was a perceptive man and he might have noticed something that the others had missed. I knocked on his door.

"Lass," he said as he opened the door, "I do not want to influence your judgment."

"Fine. Don't. Just answer my questions."

He smiled. "OK then."

"Tell me of Rigmor."

"Rigmor has never been a warrior, but he has distinguished himself many times as a clever, clever man. He is a bit rash, and I fear his sharp wit and quick temper may have prevented him from ever finding a mate among the Skaal. Still, he has been a valuable member of the community. Over time, if he gains wisdom, he could become a shaman."

"And Engar?"

"Lass, I should not speak, but I feel that he did not do this. He is an honorable man. He would have asked for the wolf furs had he needed them. I feel bad for his wife, Risi. She will be heart-broken if he is found to be guilty. You should speak to her. She knows him well."

"I already have."

I thanked him and departed. I needed evidence. I had a conclusion but no solid way of making a final judgment. A man's life was in my hands: I did not want to be mistaken.

I returned to the Ice-Mane hut and talked to Risi again. I walked around the hut as I talked. I needed something, some bit of a clue; something to tell me what was really going on. It was just too bad that there was no way to get her to leave the hut. I had to keep up my end of the conversation so that she did not realize that I was searching.

Something was peeking out from under the pillow on the bed. Not exactly the most clever of hiding places, really. Quick as thought, I snatched it. It was a piece of paper, with writing on it.

Risi started to say something and I put my hand out and said "Silence!"

Her hand touched the handle of her mace. My eyes warned her not to use it.

I read the note aloud.

"Dearest Risi. Why will you not see me? You know how I feel, and I know you feel the same about me. Please, simply consent to speak to me. Just a word, a moment with you, would ease my soul. If I cannot be with you, I will have to resort to something drastic.

"Please, consider your feelings. Your husband is a lout, away for weeks at a time, with no consideration for your needs. I have always been there for you, and I always will be. We should be together, dear Risi."

Risi was silent. The note was not signed.

"This is from Rigmor, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"W-we had an affair," she stammered. "His words can be like honey. I broke it off. He could not accept that. It may be the reason he has brought these accusations against my husband."

"You think?"

Her face reddened.

I left.

My next stop was Rigmor's hut.

"You had an affair with Risi," I said in my usual unsubtle fashion.

"Nonsense."

"There is a note that you wrote to her. I have read it."

He swore and then said: "I only wanted the woman! Why did that fool have to choose the wolves? He could have simply left, and she and I could have been together forever!"

I waited.

"It has all gone wrong."

I remained silent. He sighed.

"You know my crime, and I know you must tell Heart-Fang. Let us go to him now, and I will accept my fate."

"After you."

We walked to the great hall. Rigmor said nothing. I said nothing. He did not try to escape.

We entered the Great Hall and approached Heart-Fang.

Rigmor spoke: "Chieftain: I falsely accused Engar Ice-Main of the theft. He is innocent."

The chieftain remained silent.

"I-I did it because I wanted Risi. I had hoped to have Engar exiled so I could be with her."

"Swine."

He looked down at the floor.

The chieftain turned to me and said; "Did you force him to say this?"

Wordlessly, I took the note from my pack and handed it to him.

He read it, and said, "Rigmor, this is your handwriting. You are guilty."

Rigmor nodded.

"Rashelle," said the chieftain, "you have successfully discovered the truth. An innocent man has been saved and the real criminal has been revealed."

I said nothing.

"This cannot go unpunished. You must choose the sentence for Rigmor, exile or the wolves?"

"Engar got to choose. Rigmor does not get to?"

"No Rashelle, he does not! You will choose!"

Oh.

I could ask for time to consult with members of the Skaal, but I already knew what the consensus would be: the Skaal all believed that being eaten by wolves was the lesser punishment.

Rigmor's eyes met mine. At times like this I wished that I could read minds ... but I think I knew what he wanted.

"Rigmor is to die an honorable warrior's death. He is to be sacrificed to the Caenlorn."

"So be it," said the chieftain. "It is better than he deserves."

I said nothing.

"You must witness the sentence being carried out, Rashelle. If you would judge us, you must also see the results of your judgment."

Though I did not like this, there was a grim sort of logic to it. I nodded.

The chieftain led us outside and then to an empty circular paddock. Korst Wind-Eye was already there: he was standing by the gate, which was open. His Seer ability had brought him here early, I guessed.

Rigmor entered the paddock. A crowd was forming.

"My fellow Skaal, the outlander Rashelle has determined that Engar Ice-Main is innocent."

There was a cheer.

"She has also determined that the accusation was falsely made by Rigmor Halfhand for his own purposes."

There was a grumbling.

"Rigmor is to be sacrificed to the wolves."

Korst closed the gate.

The chieftain nodded to the shaman. Korst cast a spell and three wolves appeared in the pen. Rigmor held his ground bravely. He screamed in pain as they tore into his flesh. It hurt to watch. I was sickened, but I held to my promise and I did not look away. They killed him and they fed on him. The conjured wolves then disappeared.

"Justice has been carried out. The will of the All-Maker has been done," proclaimed the chieftain.

To me, he said: "Rashelle, I will have another test for you at a later time."

I had to leave: I had to get out of there. I wanted to run.

"Rashelle, I would invite you to dinner at the Great Hall, but I sense that you would rather leave. This is fine. Come back when you are ready."

I fled. I couldn't take it any more.

I tend to like Nords, usually. I generally get along with them rather well, but ... at times ... they have moments of utter savagery ... flashes of bizarre and entirely strange thought processes. I knew what Rigmor had wanted this death, but still I was horrified.

South across the ice and snow I ran. Ironically, a pack of wolves set upon me. I fought them with fire and with my claymore and then continued to run.

After a few more minutes I stopped. I had run in almost a state of panic from the Skaal village. There been no thought in my mind but to simply get away. Now I was away. I took a few breaths and my rationality returned to me. My head was clearer: it was time for me to decide what to do next.

The sky was beginning to darken, twilight was approaching. I could Recall to Raven Rock: just one cast and I would be there, amongst civilized people, but I hesitated. I could also use an Intervention spell to instantly teleport to the fort, but I had no business there, no new progress to report.

I then realized why I had been running due south the entire time: unconsciously I had been heading for Thirsk. I wanted to be with friendly people. I did not want to be amongst people who thought it was great to be eaten alive by wolves. I needed comfort. Perhaps I would even try mead: I needed a drink ... or something.

The spot where I was standing was familiar: I had probably traveled this way at least once on the way from Thirsk to the Skaal village. Also familiar was the skull. It was resting in the snow, where I had placed it the the other day ... during my first journey to the Skaal village. I felt sad for the skull. Whoever they had been in life, they had intended that their bones would remain in that barrow: they had certianly not expected that the Imperials would come in and disturb the tomb. I was sure that they would not have wanted some Breton to leave their skull on the ground. I brushed the snow off the skull and placed it in my pack: I would find a better resting place for it.

At a slower pace, I continued my way south, towards Thirsk.

When I reached sight of the mead hall, I could see that there were people outside. Some held torches. Some were not standing. In the light of the torches, I could see blood on the snow. Something bad had happened. I started running.

Svenja was by the entrance to the mead hall. She was not standing.

"Svenja!" I shouted. Had she been killed?

I reached her and crouched next to her. I poured healing magic into her. She was curled up almost in a ball. She was crying and from the look of her face, had been for some time.

I looked up at the people near me. They all looked uncertain as to what to do.

Svenja continued to weep. I had healed her with my spells but there was a hurt inside that I could not cure.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"We were attacked," said one of the men. "A great beast came from the lake. It was horrible. It killed half of us and it destroyed the inside of the hall. We tried to fight it but we were like insects to it. It threw Svenja like a rag-doll. It killed the chieftain and dragged his corpse off, back to the lake."

I sat down, next to her, on the ground. It was more comfortable.

"What of Svenja?"

"I do not know. We carried her out of the building with the other wounded and she's been like this ever since. She has never been this way before. She is among the toughest of us."

"I will go and slay this creature. What is it?"

"it's an Udyrfrykte. It is a savage ape-like creature with glowing green eyes. It is incredibly strong and fast."

With a surprising speed, Svenja uncurled herself and put put her arms around my waist. "DON'T GO." she screamed.

"Svenja, I have to kill this creature. It will only come again if I do not."

Her grip tightened and I was glad I was wearing a cuirass as I would have had trouble breathing, otherwise. "Please don't go, don't go! Don't leave meeee!"

She wailed louder than before. My friend hurt: I would not leave her.

"OK, Svenja. I will not go after the creature right now."

She continued to sob, though not as loudly.

"I need to heal the other wounded. Let go."

She did not.

"Some of your people are wounded. They might die. Let me heal them. I will be right back. I promise."

She shook her head and sobbed.

"I promise!"

She released her grip.

I attended to the wounded. using potions and spells depending on the severity of their injuries.

"Are you going to rebuild?" I asked one of the men.

"Aye lass, but Svenja is the one who would normally coordinate something like this."

"I see. She effectively ran the place, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"OK. Look: I'm appointing you in charge of taking care of everyone. You can't all live here, so those with homes elsewhere can maybe put up a Thirskian or whatever you all yourselves for the night. Then you get someone to gather firewood and keep a fire or two going for the people who will still be sleeping here, since they will have to sleep outside."

"Aye, less."

The chieftain was dead, and Svenja was not in any condition to lead ... so, for now, the people of Thirsk were following my orders.

"Hey," said a loud voice that I can only describe as ... buzzing. I turned to see an unexpected sight: a Breton man. Aside from Marisa and myself, he was the first non-Nord I had seen in Thirsk. Despite this, I took an instant dislike to him.

"Is she all right?" he continued in that overly loud voice. He pointed to Svenja.

Of course, everything is fine. Thirsk gets attacked every day. Svenja always cries. No, she's not all right, you clueless fetcher.

I actually suppressed my sarcastic remark and instead I simply gave him my Look. He scurried away. Stupid s'wit.

I returned to Svenja. "I am back. Sleep now: I'll be watching over you."

From my pack I took my sleeping fur and put it on her.

Eventually my friend's sobbing faded away and, curled up on the snow beside the entrance to Thirsk, she fell asleep. I remained awake and watched over her.

At some point during the night, she woke up and in a strange small voice said: "I gotta go."

I helped her up and led her away from the hall. I stood guard. She did not say anything else. When she was done, I led her back. I tried to lead her to one of the fires, where it was warmer, but she tugged on my hand and silently walked to her spot by the mead hall entrance. I tried to speak to her but she was mute. Her eyes stared into a distant infinity that was not of this world. The attack had shocked her badly. I hoped that this was not a permanent state. She curled up and went back to sleep again: maybe more sleep would help. I covered her with the fur again. The night was cold, even for me, but I endured it and stayed with her.

The rest of that long night passed without incident. Through it, I remained awake: I would catch up on my sleep some other time. I worried about what had happened to my friend. Would she ever recover her wits?

Dawn and dusk are the two times of Azura, so when the sky began to lighten, I silently prayed to Azura. I prayed for Svenja. Normally I am not a religious person, but Azura was real and I knew her.

Svenja's eyes opened.

"Good morning, sunshine," I said.

"Rashelle," she said in her normal voice, "thank you."

Svenja was back.

Excellent depiction of the crime investigation and the beginning of the Thirsk attack. Nice to see Svenja is ok.

Oh no....it´s impossible! A man cannot go by the name of Rigmor!!! That is...and will certainly remain a female name! An old scandinavian female name. One of my colleagues at my former job at the candle factory is called Rigmor. I will not accept a male by that name! And Rash shouldn´t either!

Svenja is kinda odd as well, the shorter form Sven is a male name, hrrmmm but I guess it will pass as acceptable..

Anyway I wish Rash good luck with her forthcoming tasks!

Well, that was... most disturbing.

Well minque, don't forget that there technically aren't any scandinavians in Tamriel

Oh I know! but the whole setting is inspired by scandinavia! Besides....Rigmor is a female name anyway! They could at least check things like that! It hurts my scandinavian soul....

Well, there are names which can work for either gender. Like my real name for instance...... I'm not going to tell you guys it though.

Oh aye..like Kim for instance! But not Rigmor! neverrrrrrrrr

I am sorry ... but his name is Rigmor in the game. I don't know the rules for Scandinavian/Swedish names (and neither does Bethesda?) so I had no idea that thing was wrong.

This is no worse than man named Joleen. That is a female name, at least according to a country western song I heard.

As an aside, while researching "real" Nordic folklore[1] for the Fryse Hag[2] subplot, I found that some of what Bethesda used for Nord "lore", is actually taken from Irish/Celtic & Anglo-Saxon myths. This leads me to think that, from the beginning, the MW Nord culture was never proper Scandinavian ... so expect some names (as well as other stuff) to be bad/improper/whatever. For example: I still don't know why "Grendel" got changed to "Udyrfrykte".


--
[1] wikipedia for teh win!
[2] The closest "real" thing to MW Fryse Hags are the Valkyre(I probably spelled that wrong, you know what I mean) or the Norn(s), but those are not Mortal and the Hags are. I ended up having to make up some stuff to explain their story.

Is it Ashley? I bet it's Ashley!

I know a guy named Shannon. Well, not really know, since I haven't ever really talked to him but... well the point is there's a guy named Shannon.

After reading page one for now, I must say - an excelent bit of writting. The humor doesn't seem out-of-place, and the story is good. Can't say more, yet to read other pages. Don't have the time now, though. But I have a feeling page 2 won't be disappointing.

Leslie, Alexis, Dana, and Adrian are some other unisex names. My money is on Adrian for Lord Revans real name.

Kim is not, nor was it ever anything but a woman's name. Rigmor SOUNDS like a guys name. Sorry but it just does, in english anyways it combines the words of "Rig' meaning to set up in a physical or verbal sense, and the word 'more' which means,...'more' and guys always love to rig more.

*Darth Vadar voice* Gimme my money, Black Hand! *Maniacal laughter in the background**

Excuse me, that was my subconscious: the part of me that wants to monologue all the time....... My name starts with a "C" and has seven letters, that's as much as I'm going to tell you. *More maniacal laughter*

Cecelia?

......... No, ok, I'm a guy. I think that's an awkward name to give a male.

ha-HA!!! Cameron!!!

Well, crap...... I still want my money from your first try!

Here you go! :Hands money: Hmm should we stop thread Hi-jacking?

*looks around at everyone* Yeah, maybe we should..... *Disappears into Black Hand's shadow*

Chapter 15. Attack



Svenja was up and giving orders, and the people of Thirsk obeyed joyfully. I had feared that they would view what had happened to Svenja as a sign of weakness and would no longer follow her lead, but this was not the case. All were glad that she was back to her old self.

"Come with me, Rashelle."

I followed her into the mead hall. As the man yesterday had told me, the interior was a mess. All of the furniture had been smashed into kindling. There were dead bodies and severed limbs strewn about. The stairs to the upper level had been ripped out. Some of the support pillars had even been destroyed.

"Rashelle, I just had a thought. Could you levitate upstairs and see if anyone has been trapped up there?"

I nodded. I cast the spell and floated up. Quickly I checked the upper level. I entered each room, picking locked doors where necessary. No one had been left behind. I returned to Svenja with the good news.

She led me towards the back.

"we'll drag those bodies out later: they are not in a hurry any more. Help me clear some of the debris. I need to reach the bar."

When we had cleared a way to the back, she went behind the bar and bent down. She reappeared, holding a chest.

"We'll use the gold in here to hire workers. We will begin repairs today."

I nodded.

"Help me find my axe."

We searched the wreckage and eventually found it.

"Svenja?"

She looked questioningly at me.

"What happened? To you, I mean."

She sighed.

"I'm tough, as we all have to be in this land. I can go out and hunt without fear. I can fight bears, spriggans, draugr, those rieklings. I've even fought the odd grahl, but I've never fought something like that thing before. It flicked me away like a dried snot."

She shuddered.

"Rashelle, I've worked here since I was a child. I grew up here. I've always lived here. I was raised here. My mother gave birth to me in this room. This is my home, my life, my safe place. Then that thing burst down the doors and destroyed it all. In a few short minutes, that monster destroyed my entire life."

She looked like she was going to cry again.

I hugged her and said, "Svenja. I'm sorry. Thirsk will be repaired. It will be OK."

She nodded.

I took a step back, placed my hands on her shoulders, looked her in the eyes and said: "I would like to go and kill that creature now. Can I leave you, so that I may do this?"

"Rashelle, it may kill you. I'm not sure I could take that. You've become a good friend in such a short time."

"I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

I lifted my hands away, grinned and made sparks fly from my fingers. She smiled and nodded. I departed.

Though an afternoon and a night had passed, the creature was still easy to track; I simply followed the trail of blood down towards the lake.

The blood led to rock outcrop by the edge of the ice and then disappeared. I looked out over the lake. A horker seemed to be waving to me: they are such adorable creatures. I smiled.

I walked between the lake and the outcrop. There was a new hole in the ground. it looked as if something had torn its way up through the snowy ground from some unknown depth. I looked down the hole and saw that, a few feet down, it bent from the vertical, towards the east. Since this was where trail of blood ended, this had to be where Udyrfrykte had gone.

I hopped down into the hole and found myself in an ice passage. I followed this down and east. As I descended, the light filtering though the ice grew darker, but never became totally dark: this low level of lighting, combined with the Ring of Azura's enchantment, enabled me to see clearly.

The passage widened. In front of me was a thick pillar of ice. I walked to the left and passed the pillar. The Udyrfrykte was there, looking just as it had been described to me previously. Its eyes did indeed glow. I could see the partially dismembered remains of a corpse, which it had been feeding on. From the clothing, I identified the body as that of Skjoldr Wolf-runner, the chieftain of Thirsk.

The creature roared, ripped an arm from the corpse and threw it at me. I dodged and cast a large fireball. The Udyrfrykte growled, picked up a severed leg ... and ran for me.

I cast another fireball and then Chrysamere was in my hands.

With its sickening weapon, the foul creature swung. There was a meaty impact and I was sent spinning through the air.

I smashed into an icy wall. As I rose to my feet, I cast a poison spell and a large fireball. The creature screamed, waved the now-burning leg, and threw it at me. I ducked the grisly missile and ran forward. The beast raised its arm to strike. I dodged and then slashed with my claymore. The fetcher surprised me by kicking. Its feet impacted squarely on my cuirass and I was sailing through the air ... again. I slammed into the wall. I saw stars and I felt a sharp pain my leg. I quickly quaffed a Restore Health potion.

I wished I still had some of those dark brotherhood darts from Mournhold. They would have been handy right then. Unfortunately, I had used them up some time ago. I had only my sword and my spells. I picked myself up and moved forward.

The creature growled and charged. I chopped and its arm went flying. I dodged the swing of its other arm and slashed with my blade. The beast kicked, missing me this time. I ran.

Roaring with pain and anger, the Udyrfrykte pursued. I ran past the pillar and turned to keep it between the beast and myself. The creature was fast but so was I.

We were now at a stalemate of sorts, as the pillar prevented it from directly charging at me: whichever way it ran around, I could scurry away in the other direction.

Louder than before, so that my ears hurt, the creature roared its frustration. It darted around the pillar and appeared on my left. I hit it with a shock spell and ran to to the right. The Udyrfrykte tried to repeat this maneuver from the opposite direction and was rewarded with a fireball.

The whole ice cave seemed to shudder as the creature dashed itself against the pillar.

I darted around the right and slashed with Chrysamere. The beast howled and I leaped back. Again it smashed into the pillar. I ran around to the right again and stabbed: My aim was lucky and one of its glowing green eyes was punctured. The creature twitched, as if trying to swing its missing arm at me. I could see that blood was still gushing from the stump.

The beast charged but I again used the pillar as cover.

I cast a shock bolt spell. The creature shuddered and then shrieked once. The green glow in its remaining eye faded and and it fell forward onto the floor of the cave. I waited. Silence descended. The beast was still.

The Udyrfrykte could have been playing dead to draw me within its reach, but I ran towards it anyway. I chopped and its head was half severed from its body. I then knew that it was really dead.

"Nobody ... nothing ... hurts my friend," I hissed.

I wiped Chrysamere clean on the creature's fur.

After pausing to take a potion, I explored the cavern. It was small, really just the one chamber. There were pieces of armor and shreds of clothing and many skulls ... all from previous victims.

There was chest in the back of the cave. I opened it but there was nothing of interest inside.

Since the chieftain had been torn to pieces, I was not going to bring him back to Thirsk: I have my limits.

I looked at the Udyrfrykte. It looked a heavy beast but I wanted to reassure my friend that Thirsk was safe again: I would bring the body to her. I cast a Feather spell: it would allow me to carry heavy objects more easily. I then took hold of the creature by its feet and pulled.

Dragging the Udyrfrykte behind me, I walked up the ice passage. When I reached the hole, I had a terrible time pulling that creature up to the surface. When that feat had been accomplished, I took a few moments to rest and look out on the frozen lake. The sight of the horkers disporting on the ice soothed me. They were so cute.

I cast the feather spell again.

Up the snowy slope I trudged, still with the Udyrfrykte in tow. I was tired. My arms, though strong, were beginning to ache. The feather spell cut out: I paused to cast it again and then pressed on.

I heard shouting. I looked up to see some of the people from Thirsk running down the slope, towards me.

"She killed it!"

"You did it!"

I smiled. The group reached me. They helped me drag the Udyrfrykte the rest of the way up. We stopped when we reached Svenja. She was speechless.

"I killed it for you."

She lifted me up in a bear hug and shouted "thank you" over and over again. Again, I was glad that I was wearing a cuirass.

Looking past her shoulder, It was apparent that Svenja had already gotten the work started. I could see that many of the bodies and much of the debris had already been removed from the interior of the hall.

"Svenja?" I said.

"Yes?"

"I can't breath."

She released me and laughed.

"I am sorry Rashelle. Thank you so much."

I smiled.

"What of our chieftain?"

"What is left of his body, is in pieces. You don't want to see it."

She nodded. That was the end of the matter.

"Rashelle. You have done a very good thing for Thirsk, and for me. The hall will be rebuilt and sagas will be written about what you have done today."

I looked down. Such praise was unnecessary. The people around us cheered.

She placed a hand under my chin and gently raised it so that I was looking up at her again. "And you will be the chieftain."

"What?!"

"Each chieftain of Thirsk attains their status by a great victory in battle. Any warrior, regardless of race or sex, can claim leadership of the mead hall by displaying the most impressive battle trophy on the pedestal in the mead hall."

I blinked.

"You have saved Thirsk by killing this mighty beast. Its heart will be the trophy: it will be cut out and preserved. By slaying this beast and by bringing it here, you have just passed two of the requirements to become the next chieftain. There is only one remaining task to be performed."

I waited.

"But first, I think you should continue your werewolf investigation for the Imperials and the Skaal. I shudder to think what would happen if werewolves were to attack us, especially now. Also, I wonder why the Udyrfrykte stirred from its lair now. Could this attack somehow have been connected to your werewolf attack?"

"Svenja ... will you be OK?"

"Yes Rashelle. I am still a warrior. By having met a creature that I could not best, I have merely learned my limits."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rashelle; I am sure. You have done much for me and I appreciate it but but for now, go and see to this matter. And in a few days we'll talk about making you the chieftain."

"OK."

There was more cheering.

I departed. I could have walked to the Skaal village, but I was not yet ready to return there. I could have cast Divine Intervention to go directly to the fort, but I had no business there. I decided that I would go to Raven Rock, but I would walk instead of using Recall: I needed some time to myself.

After fighting some spriggans and a pack of wolves, it began to snow. A wind began to blow. Visibility was not so good but I was happy to be striding through the swirling snow.

A berserker, some rieklings and a few bear attacks later, I noticed a mound of snow with a door in it: another dwelling or cave. Curious as ever, I decided to investigate.

"Hello, is anyone home?" I called.

I heard no answer so I entered. I found myself in another ice cave.

"Hello?" I called as I walked along the downward-sloping passage.

I arrived at a beautiful chamber of ice crystals. There were platforms of wood and on them were various crates and pieces of furniture. A few torches here and there and a fire provided light.

A Nord woman stood on one platform, not far from the fire. She was dressed in the usual furs and she wore an odd-looking fur hat that hid most of her blond hair. Her face had a mean, pinched, expression on it. For some reason I remembered something that I had often overheard parents saying to their children: "if you keep making that nasty face, some day it will freeze like that."

For this woman, it had.

"Brandr is my husband," she shouted, "do you hear me, Mine! That harlot, Erna, will pay!"

I had the feeling that I had walked into a conversation that was already in progress, but no one else was in the cave.

"Pardon?"

"Hello, stranger. I am Kjolver. My, you look quite the warrior. I'll bet you've done a lot of killing in your time."

I frowned. Had Sheogorath touched this woman?

She approached me. I had an impulse to back away but I resisted it.

"You walk around outside in the snow wearing only that?"

I nodded.

"don't you get cold?"

I shook my head.

"From the storm you come, unaffected by the cold and the snow. Truly, you are a Nord on the inside."

I said nothing.

"you carry such a big weapon, your arms have hard muscles. You are obviously a warrior."

I was mute.

"You have the aspect of death upon you. Your hair, it is black like the feathers of the raven. Wherever there is death on the battlefield, there are the ravens."

I remained silent. She was close to me now.

"Even your eyes are black. They are ink-black pools. I need a death, yes I do. You will be the agent of death for me, an avenging black-haired killer."

"What in Nirn are you talking about?"

"My husband, Brandr, is cheating on me. He is up at the Skaal village, having an affair with Erna the Quiet. I should be enough for him. I want you to kill Erna. I will reward you well."

"No."

"What?"

"No. I am not a killer for hire."

"But your bearing, your hair, your weapon ... you are every inch a killer. Striding in from that storm outside, all in black, you could be an avatar of death, sent by the gods to aid me."

My adamantium boots were silver in color, not black, but she must have decided to ignore that little detail.

"I kill to defend, to protect and only when necessary," I said. "I am not some Nord death god. I will not kill this Erna."

"You have to!"

"Good day sera."

"I trust you'll keep this matter in confidence?"

I left.

I resumed my journey. That conversation had disturbed me: my happy mood had evaporated and the snow no longer cheered me. Soon, I reached water and realized that I had drifted north of my intended path. I knew that northwest and west would lead me to Geilir the Mumbling's place and that Raven Rock would be due south ... to my left. I turned and started off. The remainder of my trip went without further incident. The snow had tapered off by the time I arrived at the colony. It was now late in the afternoon.

The place was almost unrecognizable. It had certainly expanded. To the north, work had started on a stone wall. There were more buildings. I saw many people walking about who I did not recognize.

I found Falco. He appeared to be relieved to see me.

"Rashelle, good to see you. How go things?"

"Interesting."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Long story."

"Fair enough," he said.

"You have a problem don't you?"

"Yes, Rashelle. I am sorry to burden you right as you arrive, but there was an attack last night."

"Werewolves?"

"Possibly. This morning we found a man dead. The body was outside and his throat had been ripped out. No one saw the attack. It could have been one of several animals but I think it was a werewolf."

"Strange that there was only one. The attack on the fort involved an entire pack."

He shrugged and said. "I don't know. I guess there is nothing to do, save to hire guards."

I nodded. "Good idea."

"Rashelle, could you go around and ask around and see if anyone here would like to become a guard?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Normally I would ask headquarters to hire guards and send them, but it is quicker if we can find people here. I can avoid much paper work and I want to have guards sooner rather than later. I don't know when another beast or werewolf will attack."

"That makes sense. I will find some people."

"Thank you Rashelle, and welcome back."

I smiled.

I walked around the town, talking to familiar faces and being introduced to the new ones. I found some people who were willing and, of them, I selected two who I thought had the proper physique and attitude. I wanted someone who could actually perform guard duty, yet someone who was not going to be a bully. Many guards ended up being more of a problem then what they were supposed to defend against: I did not want that to happen at Raven Rock.

I was sure that Reinhardt would have made an excellent guard, but I had an intuition that I would need him later for something else. I did not have a fully-formed plan, just the vague feeling ... so I did not ask him.

To be thorough, I also checked within the mine. I found a third person down there who was both willing and suitable for the job.

Falco was pleased when I presented him with a list of the three names.

"I'll draft a note and send them to the fort for some training and for some armor."

"Do you want me to fetch them now and escort them?"

"No, I'll give them Divine Intervention scrolls to get to the fort. For the return trip, they can take the boat."

I nodded.

It was now sunset so I decided that, after dinner, I would need a place to rest for the night. My usual spot had been replaced by a building, so I could no longer sleep there. I asked Falco about this.

"Rashelle, I can assign you a house of your own. We have managed to build two or three extra ones. With that werewolf around, I would feel more at ease if you did not sleep outside."

"Thank you."

I was not so concerned about being attacked, but with the colony now looking more like a real town, I was going to feel embarrassed if I continued to sleep outside.

In the bar, I found myself eating my supper while seated next to an Altmer named Athellor. He was dressed in clothing made of furs as if he were a native of Solstheim. He was friendly and we talked. It turned out that he was on a personal quest of sorts.

"You see, Rashelle, I believe that some of my ancestors were Falmer."

"Rieklings?"

He laughed.

"No, I am convinced that the Falmer, or snow elves, were Elven. They were not these degenerate little rieklings. Some scholars believe that the Falmer did not disappear, but rather that they intermingled with the other Elven races over time and lost their identity. I am sure that I have some Falmer blood in my veins. I would like to prove that they existed here in Solstheim. The thing is, I haven't got the, err, skills needed to travel around in this very dangerous land."

I began to see where this conversation was heading.

"An adventurer, such as yourself, could travel this land freely and perhaps find evidence of my theories."

I smiled.

"I would pay handsomely."

I shrugged. Money was no longer a concern for me.

"All I would ask is that you investigate the ancient Nord barrows around here for any evidence you can find."

"That sounds easy enough, though I cannot guarantee success. What sort of evidence do you seek?"

"I do not know: just something that makes it clear that the Falmer were not Rieklings and that they were here in Solstheim at some point in the past."

"Fair enough. I can do that."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me until I've actually done it."

He laughed.

"Here is 200 gold for equipment and traveling expenses."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry: if you don't find anything, you won't need to pay it back."

"Very well then, sera."

I accepted the money. It was probably easier to do that than to refuse. People get weird when I don't take their money.

Though it was still early, I decided that it was time for me to go to bed. I had gotten no sleep the previous night and this was beginning to catch up to me. Falco had already given me a key to my new house and he had described its location, so I was all set.

I rose and walked through the room, towards the door. I could see that Apronia was talking to a man. She noticed me and gave me a look that indicated that all was fine. I smiled.

I went outside and, in a short time, located my new house. I was pleased to see that it was one of the smaller buildings. The key turned and I found myself inside. The house had already been furnished with a bed. I barred the door but I still left my armor on when I went to bed.

A scream woke me up. It was the sound of a man in terrible pain and in terror. I was not sure what time it was but it felt as if I had been asleep for only two or three hours. I leaped from the bed, threw the bar from my door, and ran outside.

It was snowing, heavily.

I heard a growling that sounded very much like a large wolf. The sound of the man screaming stopped ... in mid-scream.

I ran between the buildings, trying to find out what was going on. The sound did not repeat. I turned a corner and saw a man whose throat had been ripped out. I ran to him. He was dead, and had obviously just been killed. It had been his scream I heard. I recognized him as the man I had seen with Apronia before. Where was she?

I then noticed that there were pieces of bloody cloth near the body. With an unpleasant chill I recognized the fabric: those were pieces of Apronia's dress.

I spun and looked around me, as quickly as I could in the thick falling snow. To the west I saw a smaller scrap of cloth and some blood. I ran toward it. I thought I saw more blood but the snow was covering it already. My foot struck a hard object. I kicked and saw Elberoth's sword, still in its sheath, emerge from the snow. Apronia had been wearing that sword. I could see faint depressions in the snow. They led west and they could have been footprints but it was hard to tell: they were rapidly filling in as the snow continued to fall.

Westward, between buildings, I raced.

I reached the western edge of the town to see ... nothing: no blood, no more clothing, no footprints, no trail of any kind. The snow had erased all trace of the werewolf's passage. A werewolf had Apronia ... and I had no idea where she had been taken. For once, I cursed the snow.

Perhaps due to an over-developed sense of ironic stories, I don't think Rashelle is correct on her theory. But only time will tell, excellent work Blockhead!

Great and entertaining chapter! Especially enjoyed the part where Rashelle stumbled into the place where she found Kjolver. 'Had Sheogorath touched this woman?' Good one there!

Hm, strange creatures (Werewolves? Something else? Oh, the suspense!) in Raven Rock? Interesting twist! Awaiting to see what turns out, although I have a litle different feeling about this than Rashelle...

Rashelle could do to be a bit more paranoid. I suppose she was a bit too desperate at the time to think about the fact the werewolves don't usually kidnap and strip their victims. Arg, the suspence is killing me!

Was that crazy cave woman actually from the game?

I think so. There's a quest which involves killing a lover (And a husband, I think), so this might be it.

Remember that Captain Carius was kidnapped by werewolves.


Yes, but I wrote new dialog: her in-game lines were not crazy enough. Dialog is fun.

That could mean that (If she was really kidnaped) Apronia is important... That, or the werewolf wasn't hungry right now and kept her for a snack.

Just read the first chapter, and I like it quite a bit. The story moves along at a good pace, not getting bogged down with needless detail, but still getting across what is necessary to get across. There was a minimum of technical error as well, which is always a big plus. So... good job!

Yes, I remember, teleporting werewolves. Confusion abounds.

I like the ending to this post; it leaves some mystery for the readers to think on. There appears to be a few theories brewing into people's heads... Very enjoyable update, blockhead!

Yaknow, I've been wondering. What did they do with all those dead naked nords that were left over after the attack? Heh.

Oh jeez....You know the name "Udyrfrykte" is originally Norwegian-inspired (I think) I also am convinced it means: Udyr= Odjur(swe)=Beast. And frykte= frukta(swe)=fear of....So it should really mean "Fear of the beast" Suitable huh?

Anyway I never got that far when I played Bloodmoon, so it´s yet to come for Serene-in-game

Now it´s very entertaining to follow Rashie.....yeah yeah, I´ve said that before, but still!

The dead naked Nords? Well in my opinion they will just freeze and ...be left as they were. On the other hand they might want to bury them....or something

In UESP, it said that a better translation was 'A beast to fear', which is, I assume, the correct one. 'Fear of the Beast'... That sounds weird.

As for the Nords, knowing the Legion, I'd guess they'll throw them in a pile behind the fort. Then throw some snow on it and pretend it's just a normal pile of snow - 'Whadda you mean - 'Reeks like dead bodies'? It's just a normal pile of snow... Oh, ignore that sticking out head...' But that's just my oppinion, anyway.

I think I like Gaius' theory better, minque. No offense, but somehow I think people would have a problem with having a large number of frozen naked nords lying around the courtyard. Aside from being extremely unsettling... Well no, that's pretty much it. Having lots of dead naked people on your lawn is just very unsettling, even if they don't smell thanks to being frozen.

As to the "dead naked Nords", I assume we refer to the werewolf attack on Fort Frostmoth, from a few chapters ago? I imagined that a work detail would be dispatched to dig a hole far enough away from the fort, dump the unidentified bodies in, and bury them. Had this occurred in Vvardenfell, I suppose they would have been cremated: that seems to be the preferred Dunmer method of "burial".

Right. Next chapter:

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Chapter 16. Spriggans



I ran around through the snow in the vicinity of the colony, keeping mostly to the western area, but did not find Apronia or a werewolf. I found a snow bear. Of course, it attacked me. After dispatching the beast, I searched some more. Eventually, I realized that I would never find her. She was gone.

Defeated, and feeling bad because I had failed in my promise to protect her, I returned to Raven Rock. Falco and several other people were standing by the man's corpse. I explained to them what I had seen and we then pieced together the story.

Apronia had chatted with the man, whose name was Stenar Valeius, for some hours in the bar. They had gone outside for a walk, staying within the colony. This they had done despite the heavy snowfall. A werewolf had run into town, possibly from the west, but there was no way to know that for sure. Said werewolf had killed Stenar, wounded Apronia, ripped some or all of her clothing off, disarmed her and carried her away. None of us had seen the actual attack but we had all heard it.

There was nothing to be done, so I returned to my house for a few more hours of sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I immediately left the colony: I wanted to search for Apronia again. I knew it was fruitless, as I had no trail to follow, but I stubbornly pressed on.

Southwest of Raven Rock, I found a Dwemer ruin. How much Dwemer activity had there been in Solstheim?

Curious as ever, I drew Chrysamere and entered.

Apronia was sitting in the Dwemer ruin, by the door. Her back was against the wall of the corridor. Her knees were drawn up against her chin and her arms were hugging her legs. She was naked.

"Apronia?" I whispered.

"R-Rashelle," she whispered. I was so glad that she was whispering. She had obviously entered the ruin and had wisely remained by the door. By keeping quiet, none of the Dwemer robots deeper in had noticed her. I hoped she would continue to remain quiet.

"Thank the gods you've found me," she continued to whisper, "I don't think I would have been able to make it to the colony on my own."

I agreed. She would have run into that snow bear that I had slain last night. I knelt beside her and could see that she had been wounded. Claws of some kind has slashed into her side. The wound did not look fatal and it had stopped bleeding, but was certainly nasty. I applied a healing spell and it disappeared.

"Thank you, Rashelle."

I cast a Cure Disease spell, just in case. What little I knew of Lycanthropy indicated that it could be contagious, like a disease.

"How did you get here?" I asked.

She started to weep, though quietly. For this much I was thankful.

"It w-was a werewolf. It attacked Stenar. It killed him and it then carried me off. I tried to resist. My struggles served only to rip my dress and anger it. It ripped away the remainder of my clothing. As soon as we were away from the colony. a spriggan attacked. The werewolf dropped me and fought the spriggan. I ran. I found this old Dwarven ruin and hid here. I figured that if I did not go in any further, I might go undetected. I'd hoped that the metal doors to this place would block my scent and that the snow would cover my trail."

This last took a presence of mind that I would not have expected from Apronia. It was logical and had probably saved her life.

"Was it the werewolf that gave you that injury?"

"Yes, when I resisted."

"Let's get you to the colony."

She wiped her eyes and nodded.

"As before, I'm going to carry you, OK?"

She nodded. I picked her up, holding her so that I had one arm under her legs and one under her shoulders.

I left the ruin and ran. Since I was largely retracing my steps, we did not encounter any creatures on the way back to Raven Rock.

I had expected her to kick up a fuss about being seen naked but she did not. Most likely she was too glad to be returning to the colony, and too glad to be alive, to be concerned about nudity. I spelled open the lock to her house: she did not have her key and I had not thought to search for it earlier.

She climbed into her bed. I drew the blanket over her. The poor girl had had a rough night. Sleep in safe place would do her good.

There was a knock on the door.

"Rashelle! It's me, Falco."

I went to the door and opened it.

"We found her house key in the snow."

He offered me a key and also Apronia's sword.

"Is she OK?"

"Now she is. She was wounded but I healed her. The werewolf met with a spriggan. They fought and Apronia used that opportunity to run away. She spent the night holed up in a Dwemer ruin southwest of here."

"Thank you, Rashelle."

I narrowed my gaze. He was about to tell me that we had another problem.

"After breakfast," I said before he could say another word, "in the bar, OK?"

"OK, Rashelle."

I closed the door and then locked it. I returned to Apronia. She had already fallen asleep. I placed the sheathed sword and her house key on the bedside table. To leave the now-locked house, I cast Recall. I then walked into the Raven Rock bar and ordered breakfast. Falco was already there, so I sat down next to him.

I noticed that he had a mug in his hand. It smelled strange, yet familiar: it made me think of Thirsk.

"What are you drinking?"

"Mead. We got a shipment of it. I've never tried it before and I was curious, so I'm having some. It's not great but it is not bad. Want a sip?"

"No thanks. I don't drink this early in the morning."

He took a sip and then spoke: "Rashelle, the next phase of expansion involves expanding Raven Rock to the east: we're going to build ten or so new houses."

I nodded.

"For some reason, there seem to be a lot of spriggans just east of the colony. Unel Lloran, who is in charge of the construction, refuses to go out there until they've been dealt with. The men and I have slain them but somehow, the next day, more show up. It's rather strange."

It was.

"I'd like you to ascertain what is drawing them and to deal with it."

I nodded. I was all for preserving nature, but that did not extend to the spriggans. Anything I did to get rid of them was a good thing.

"I'm on it."

"Thank you, Rashelle."

The man behind the bar signaled to me: my breakfast was ready. I saw that Unel was in the bar, so I carried my food over to his table.

"Unel, I am going to deal with your spriggan problem. Can you tell me about it?"

"Oh, good! Please sit."

I sat and tore into my breakfast as he related what had occurred.

"Those damn spriggans keep coming back. We kill them three times: the next day they are back. I'm not going out there, nor am I sending my men out there, until I know that they are gone for good."

"Fair enough. Do you have any ideas why spriggans are so attached to that area?"

"I'm not sure, but I have noticed a cluster of trees in that area. Since spriggans look like trees, I thought that maybe cutting those trees down would get rid of the fetchers."

I nodded. That made sense.

"The problem is, we can't cut those trees. They're unusually tough."

Strange. I munched and pondered. I would have to get rid of those trees in order to remove the spriggan menace. Since those trees could not be chopped down, they would have to be removed by some other means. Maybe I could attack them through their roots, but the thought of that much digging made me cringe.

Then I remembered the mine. Perhaps, by chance, the miners had already dug through to the roots from below. It was worth investigating.

"Unel. I've had an idea. I will investigate and get back to you, OK?"

"I'll be here."

In the mine tunnels, I wandered. There had been considerable expansion below the ground. For a time, I simply explored and updated my mental map.

I found and entered the buried barrow that had been mentioned by Falco days ago. I approached the stalhrim coffin. I ran a hand along its icy coolness and smiled.

From my pack I drew the strange axe given to me by Graring. The axe looked so fragile. I gently tapped the coffin. There was the faintest of ringing tones and many small hairline cracks appeared in stalhrim. Fascinating.

I tapped again, a little harder, and the ringing tone sounded again.

I paused and changed my grip on the axe. I wanted to break this stalhrim but I did not want to break the delicate-looking axe. Gingerly, yet with greater force, I again struck.

An icy ringing tone rang though the air, loudly. The stalhrim coffin shattered, scattering pieces of stalhrim on the floor around me.

I sank down to the floor and picked up one of the fragments. At last, I was holding a piece of stalhrim in my hands. The piece I held was the size of my fist. It was surprisingly heavy, much heavier than regular ice. It felt cool to the touch, like real ice. I pressed both hands against it yet it somehow remained cold. I pressed it against my cheek and enjoyed the coolness.

"Rashelle?"

Startled, I whirled around. Some of the miners were standing in the opening to the tomb. They looked at me strangely. I lowered the stalhrim from my face.

"We heard a strange ringing sound and came to investigate. Are you OK?"

"I, I ... broke the stalhrim."

I held the piece, which was still in my hand, up.

"Most impressive. That nasty stuff wouldn't break for anything."

It wasn't nasty, but I did not voice this thought. I placed the piece in my pack: it was getting crowded in there so I did not pick up a second piece.

"I'll be back later to gather the rest of the pieces," I said as I rose to a standing position.

"Understood, Rashelle. We're busy tunneling in another direction so there is no rush."

Good to know.

"By the way," I said, "have any of you encountered any tree roots during your digging?"

"We have ... and we could not dig through them nor cut them."

That sounded about right: it matched Unel's description of uncuttable trees.

"Could you point me that way?"

"Certainly, Rashelle."

I moment or two later and I was in a dead end tunnel, standing by a pool of water. From the ceiling descended roots. They were large and they reached down into the water. There was something about them I did not like, but I could not put a finger on it. I half expected them to writhe into motion and attack me, but they remained still.

I pondered my mental map, matching up surface features with my current underground location. After some thought, I realized that I was outside of the town, to the east. This corresponded to the described surface location of that particular cluster of trees.

A cast of a Recall spell returned me to the surface. I then walked to the east and was almost immediately set upon by two spriggans. I fought them, as usual, and pressed on. A third and fourth spriggan attacked me. it was as if they were guarding something. These I dispatched as I had the first two.

I reached a group of trees. They looked the same as any other trees ... yet I discerned a sense of ... evil. I hissed. I wanted very much to destroy these trees. Without thought, Chrysamere was out and I chopped. My sword rebounded from the trunk. My claymore lashed out again with equal lack of results. I stepped forward, leaned close and examined the trunk. I could see only the faintest of scratches on the bark. A sensation of menace radiated from the tree and I backed away.

I cast a fireball. It Reflected and I burned: somehow the tree had bounced my spell back at me. I quickly sucked down a healing potion.

While I could sense no obvious magic, it was clear that there was something unnatural about these trees.

Still, I mused as I backed away, a tree was a tree: I could not burn them nor chop them ... but I could poison them. The trees did not actually need to be removed: they only needed to be dead. From my alchemical knowledge, I knew that a paste formed from bittergreen petals would kill almost any tree. I would rub it on the roots and, within days, this evil grove would become a harmless mass of kindling.

Two more spriggans attacked me. I dispatched them and cast Almsivi Intervention. This spell teleported me to the nearest Dunmer temple ... which happened to be the one in Gnisis.

After taking a moment to adjust to the warmer temperature, I entered the temple. I found a priest who sold bittergreen petals, so I was soon able to cast Recall and return to Raven Rock.

I went down into the mine, then to the roots. I took my mortar and pestle from my pack and mashed some of the petals into a paste.

"Die, fetchers," I hissed as I applied it to one of the roots. I moved to another root and repeated the procedure.

I ran out of paste and made some more. I applied it to every root. I suppose it would have been easier to simply dump it in the water, but I did not want to kill all of the foliage in the area, just this particular cluster of trees.

Fortunately, bittergreen petals are not harmful to people. Several beneficial potions had petals amongst their ingredients.

I recalled to the surface. I entered the bar and, true to his word, Unel was still there.

"Unel, I found the roots for the trees that those spriggans seem to like. I've poisoned them. In a short time the trees will die. You will only have to kill the spriggans once more after that. You will then be able to resume construction."

"That is a great relief. Thank you, Rashelle."

I went outside and found Falco. When I reported the news to him, he handed me 20 coins. Each was a 100-septim piece. I raised an eyebrow.

"That was a major problem. You've solved it. Also, I have promoted you again. This also covers the difference in pay scale."

"Oh. Thank you."

"You deserve it."

From my pack I drew forth the chunk of stalhrim.

Falco's eyes widened.

"I met with Graring. I can extract stalhrim now. This is from the mine."

"Rashelle, that is terrific. What did Graring tell you?"

"He said something about forging it as if it were a metal. He did not go into further detail but I get the feeling that the three of them can make armor and weapons from it."

"Fascinating. This must be what Carnius is looking for."

"An Imperial woman came to Graring, looking for stalhrim. She referred to it as 'ice-nine'. She was going to torture them for the information, but I killed her. I suspect that she was working for Carnius."

"Good job, Rashelle. Take any stalhrim you find to them."

I nodded.

"By your leave, I will teleport out."

He nodded. I slipped on the Mazed Band and invoked its enchantment: I had it teleport me to Vivec.

In the temple library, I researched stalhrim. I was surprised to find mention of it in more than one book. This was a pleasant surprise, as I had expected it to be as obscure a subject as the Fryse Hags had been. Stalhrim was described as another form of ice. Water, ice and steam were considered different forms or 'phases' of the same substance. There was a theory that water had more than just those normal three phases. By application of heat or cold, pressure and magic, additional phases could be achieved. These phases had been assigned arbitrary numbers. Some had been achieved by Telvanni researchers but were unstable; exploding or melting or transforming to ordinary ice after a mere fraction of a second. Theory indicated that the ninth phase was the magical stable phase where water would be solid, as ice, but would not melt at high temperatures. This explained the Imperial woman's use of the term "ice-nine" when referring to stalhrim. "Ice-nine" and stalhrim were different terms for the same thing.

I bid leave of my ordinator friend and Recalled.

Now back at Raven Rock, I approached Falco.

"I have two requests to ask of you."

"Go ahead."

"Could you have the remaining stalhrim from the mine taken to my house, please?"

"Certainly."

I gave him my house key.

"How are you going to get back into your house if I have your key?"

I smiled. There was no need to discuss my lock picking skills so I said nothing.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be able to get in."

"Err, OK," he said, "What was the other thing?"

"I have to leave for a time. I cannot stay in Raven Rock tonight. I know that we've got a werewolf problem here, but I need to find the source, the cause, of this problem. I must return to the Skaal."

"I agree," he replied, "It is the only real solution."

I was surprised. I had been concerned that the two attacks would cause Falco to want me to stay and guard Raven Rock that night.

"By your leave?"

He nodded.

I cast Divine Intervention and was teleported to the fort. I stopped in at the General Quarters and briefly spoke with Gaea and Severia. There had been no further werewolf attacks and Carius was still missing.

Through the north archway I departed from the fort. Remembering that the Fryse Hags tended to hunt people emerging from the fort, I was wary. A few bears, a berserker and a snow wolf later, a realization occurred to me: I had not seen any Fryse Hags in over a day.

I stopped and sat down on a log. Why had I not run into any of them? What had changed? A feeling of disquiet came over me. No ... maybe it was coincidence. I would run into a Hag in the next five minutes and all would be normal again. I shook my head, as if to shake the worry away, and resumed my northward travel.

Soon, I reached a familiar place: the Valbrandr barrow. I remembered the skull in my pack. This tomb seemed like a good place for it, so I entered. A draugr attacked me: this reminded me of the last time I had been here, with Ingmar. New undead had made their way into the tomb since then. After slaying the draugr, I went deeper into the tomb, fighting some bone wolves, skeletons and another draugr.

From my pack I took the skull. I found a spot in a corner that somehow seemed ... right. I placed the skull there.

"I hope this is a good place for you, skull. I'm sorry that your original burial place was disturbed."

It was silly and pointless to concern myself with an ordinary skull, but I felt better for having done so.

My northward trek resumed. I fought many attackers, including rieklings, spriggans and berserkers. When I arrived at Thirsk, I still had not encountered a single Hag.

The people there were glad to see me. Svenja took me inside to show me the progress that had been made. Work had gone well on the repair of the support pillars and I could see that the stairs to the upper level had already been replaced. I stayed only long enough to have a quick lunch.

I felt sad as I bid my leave: Thirsk had become a happier place for me and I wanted to linger there longer, but I had to continue on my way to the Skaal.

Northwards I trekked. There had been no snow so far that day: this disappointed me. A patrol of mounted rieklings saw me and attacked. I fought through them. I did not usually search the corpses of rieklings, but this time I had the urge to do so. I was surprised to find that two of the bodies had been carrying coins. Where would they go to spend them? I picked up one of the riekling blades and took a few test swings in the air with it. For them it was a long blade. For a person, it might make a decent short bladed weapon.

I left the riekling blade there. I had Chrysamere, my silver dagger, and also a Fryse Hag dagger in my pack: there was no need to carry additional clutter.

It was late in the afternoon when I reached the Skaal village. I was greeted warmly by several people: what a change since my first visit.

I stopped in to see Korst, the shaman.

"Ah, Rashelle: good to see you again. How have you been?"

"I am fine. Has anything unusual happened here?"

"Like what?"

"Like a werewolf attack."

"No, thank the All-Maker."

"I still hope that somehow the Skaal can help me ascertain the cause of that attack on the fort. Since then, there have been two werewolf attacks at Raven Rock."

He frowned. "This is bad. One wonders if they will attack here next."

"There was also an attack at Thirsk, but not by werewolves. Still, I wonder if it was somehow connected."

"What manner of creatures attacked them?"

"Just one creature: a big ugly man-eater called an 'Udyrfrykte'. That was a nasty business."

"You slew it?"

I nodded.

"Impressive. They are tough; and they are rare, they are."

"They?"

"You didn't think there was only one did you? If you fought a bear, would you think it was the only one? What of a wolf?"

I frowned.

"Rashelle, have you spoken to the chieftain since you've arrived?"

"No."

"Well," he said as he smiled, "I'm flattered that you came to see me first, but you should go speak to him. Until you have completed all of the Tests, you should always see him directly upon arrival at the village."

"Oh. I am sorry."

"No worries. He probably won't mind. He is a fair chieftain, a good man ... and has been for quite a while."

I sensed a loaded topic. I was silent and expressionless.

"He is older than he looks. Sometimes I ... no ... it is not proper that we speak of this."

I remained silent. I hoped that he would continue.

"Go. Go see him."

I left.

Another solid update. Keep em coming, blockhead!