This is my first go at fan fiction, so bear with me. I intend to continue the story alongside playing the main character on Morrowind (it helps with getting details right), so the amount of writing will be limited by how far my character gets in game. More will come later, obviously, but I thought I'd post this section because it leaves it on a good end-point. Anyway, here it is. Hope it's alright.

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“Oh no, this isn’t right. The dates on here are all wrong. Socucius might be getting old, but he shouldn’t get something like this messed up. I suppose it was just a mistake from one of the messengers…”

I shifted uneasily from foot to foot. Caius seemed to ignore me and started scribbling on a piece of scrap paper. After a minute of furious concentration on his writing, Caius looked up, and was startled when he realised that he still had a guest.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like they’ve sent me the wrong person. We can’t exactly send you back to jail now, so you’re free to go.” He said, turning back to the paper.

That was when my travels in Vvardenfell began. I was out of the door before Caius had time to change his mind. It had turned out even better than I had hoped; being released from prison to work for a mysterious group of agents was promotion enough, but being released from prison to be given complete freedom on a backwater island was even better.

Balmora was the name of the town I had been sent to. Wandering around in the evening light, it seemed quite a pleasant place, and remarkably cosmopolitan for a Dunmer settlement (I had almost expected to find them all living in tents, though my ideas of the island were perhaps a little more out of date than I had thought). In any case, I needed accommodation for the night, and the local temple seemed happy to ‘give shelter to a weary traveller’, as they put it. The next day, I decided, would be the first day of my new life as a… well, frankly, I had no idea what I would actually do, but it was certainly going to be the start of something.

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The dawn of the next day obviously approved of my plans for a new beginning. It was as clear and bright as any I had ever seen, and gave a quite beautiful view of the town as I stood on the temple steps. The pale yellow rays of the early sun bathed the soft stone of Balmora’s houses, and gave an impression of remarkable peacefulness.

And so it was with a light heart that I began to take a good look at the opportunities in the town. A guard, who seemed determined to be unfriendly despite the calm of the morning, directed me to the mages’ guild building, and I left at once, not wanting his sour mood to rub off on me.

On arriving, I was met by a Dunmer woman, who seemed to look at me somewhat disdainfully.

“What business do you have with the mages’ guild, commoner?” She asked.

I then realised that I was still wearing the tattered clothes I had been given on my release from prison. It was not the best of first impressions to make, but I was sure that this woman would recognise a talented mage whether he was wrapped in silk finery or dirty rags. It would just require me to show her some of my skill.

“I’d like to join the mages guild.” I stated cheerfully. The woman looked sceptical.

“We have requirements, you know. Our members must be able to display some skill with magic.”

She looked a little confused when I started to rise upwards. Her eyes were still on my face, so she didn’t see my feet gradually lifting off the floor. Once I had risen around a foot into the air, she looked down at my feet, and saw the tell-tale wisps of magic supporting me as I stood in mid-air.

“Not a particularly complex spell, but I suppose it shows that you have at least some skill,” she conceded “You would be eligible to join the Mages’ Guild. I am Ranis Athrys, the guild leader here in Balmora.”

I considered showing her some more serious magic then, but then I realised that having her underestimate me could be useful later on. As long as the guild knew I had the skill to cast some basic spells, they didn’t need to know any more about me. I reasoned that appearing less powerful than I was would mean they would not keep such a close eye on my actions.

I spent the rest of the day looking around Balmora. I discovered that this was a House Hlaalu controlled town, and while I knew little of the workings of the great houses (having only heard vague stories about them at home), I was sure I had been told in the past the Hlaalu was more tolerant of outlanders than the other houses, which was obviously to my advantage. I decided against getting any jobs from them, though. Getting involved in local politics with very little knowledge of the island and its people seemed to be a bad idea.

There were many shops in Balmora, and after my first encounter with Ranis Athrys, I decided that I could not go on wearing the clothes of a peasant if I wanted to get anywhere. Using money I had found (I will spare the details for the sake of my reputation) since my release from prison, I bought some slightly more expensive attire at a nearby clothier, then found a small armourer’s in the centre of town. The Bosmer there was surprisingly helpful, and showed me some light but hardwearing pieces of armour made from netch leather. If I was going to travel, he told me, I would need some tough clothing, due to the various dangers of weather and wildlife on Vvardenfell. I thanked him, and left feeling much more comfortable, clean, and confident than I had before. I felt that I was beginning to look like the hardy traveller I wanted to become.

I spent the rest of the day wandering down the river that flowed through Balmora (I forget its name now…). I had been informed that the settlement of Hla Oad was downstream, but it turned out to be no more than a scattering of wooden huts, and the only people I could find there were peasants and smugglers. Needless to say, I didn’t consider spending my night there. The trip back up the river was short, and there was still enough light for me to travel easily, so I set off back to Balmora to find somewhere to get a drink, a hot meal, and a bed.

Entering the first suitable establishment I could see when I made it back to Balmora, I found myself in a place called the “Eight Plates”. There were a fair number of patrons there already, so my entry was of little interest, and I made my way straight to the bar for a well-deserved brandy. It was only when I turned away from the bar that I noticed a giant of a Nord standing over me.

Is the giant nord going to fight him? FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

Nice, I like it. Post more and I'm here *zooooom*

:goodjob: <--- a jonajosa for you.

Well-written, with a nice pace and just enough information to make us want more.

Nice Chumb... I write very good, maybe you should join the RPs :goodjob:

[quote=gamer10]Is the giant nord going to fight him? FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

Nice, I like it. Post more and I'm here *zooooom*

:goodjob: <--- a jonajosa for you.[/quote]

You'll see

[quote=Fuzzy Knight]Nice Chumb... I write very good, maybe you should join the RPs :goodjob:[/quote]

I will if there's a new one, I just don't want to join the current one since it's already so well established.

Your lucky that there are no moderaters looking here... yet... <_<...>_>
Nice FF by the way, I liked the begining. I always wondered what it would be like to not be the right prisoner...

Oooh, ooh, Chum! Me likey! I do not see any grammar problems, etc. Oh, wait, there's one problem:

You need to write more! Pweeeese?

Because I love this story, and I encourage you to keep on writing, I will now give you a [img]http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y203/DigGarden/Cake_15454.gif[/img]!

[quote=MerGirl]Oooh, ooh, Chum! Me likey! I do not see any grammar problems, etc. Oh, wait, there's one problem:

You need to write more! Pweeeese?

Because I love this story, and I encourage you to keep on writing, I will now give you a [img]http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y203/DigGarden/Cake_15454.gif[/img]![/quote]

Wow, I thought we only had one type of cake here, but then some huge uber-cake turns up. *devours cake*

EDIT: I am currently writing more. I'd be more productive if all forum posting stopped, since every time there's a new post I'm straight there to reply, so I'm wasting a load of time

[quote=Zelda_Zealot]Your lucky that there are no moderaters looking here... yet... <_<...>_>
...[/quote]

Now why would he be lucky about that if I may ask?


Chumbaniya you write very good, I agree with treydog, just the amount of info to want us to hear more


:goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: some jonajosas for you

[quote=minque][quote=Zelda_Zealot]Your lucky that there are no moderaters looking here... yet... <_<...>_>
...[/quote]

Now why would he be lucky about that if I may ask?


Chumbaniya you write very good, I agree with treydog, just the amount of info to want us to hear more


:goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: some jonajosas for you[/quote]

I think he said about the moderators because I double posted. I was a little confused by that for a while aswell

Ah well, one time is no time and both posts were good so i don´t mind ......

btw your charachter here is it that awesome breton on the screenshot in the screenshot-thread?

[quote=minque]Ah well, one time is no time and both posts were good so i don´t mind ......

btw your charachter here is it that awesome breton on the screenshot in the screenshot-thread?[/quote]

That's the one. I've got a screen shot of the Nord too, but I'll put that up with the next part, since he features more in that.

Next little bit here, then I'm going to bed:

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Now, while this would intimidate most people, and would often intimidate me, allow me to explain why I was in fact extremely glad to have a man reeking of spirits, with a huge, dirty beard and an axe at his belt, bearing down on me. This was Gatrick Farrow, a man of truly mighty strength (and appetite), a friend from my adventures on the continent, and a man who remains a truly loyal and stalwart companion in my travels to this day.

Some of the patrons of the Eight Plates looked mildly surprised when the Nord embraced me heartily - my body dwarfed by his, and my entire head buried below his chin - and started roaring out his gladness to see me. After a few seconds of near-suffocation with my head stuffed into his beard, Gatrick released me and took a long, serious look at me.

“Well blow me!” he exclaimed “Yer looking as fine as ever, ye’ old devil” I took a good look at him too, and it I had to admit to myself how much older he looked, despite his reassuring broad, solid features.

“By my beard, I never did think I’d see Alric Lycester again,” he said “What’s brought ye’ here? I never saw Vvardenfell as somewhere ye’d choose to visit.”

So I told him my story. I told him how I had been imprisoned for trespassing and theft in the Imperial Library in Cyrodiil, and then how I had been suddenly sent to Morrowind, only to be released due to a mess-up in Caius’ information.

Gatrick had been listening carefully, with a solemn expression on his face, for the length of the story. When I finished, his face broke into a broad smile and he chuckled to himself.

“The Imperial Library, eh? Ye’ don’ half do some funny things to get yer hands on books.” He said “But then, ye’ see, I’d don’ understand any of that magic ye’ use.”

One thing that had always been reassuring about Gatrick was his mistrust of magic. With him, you knew that whatever you saw was what you got. Not that this made him harmless, though, of course; often what his enemies saw of him was a seven foot tall mountain of a man running at full pelt towards them, garbed in a full steel suit of armour but treating it as if it weighed no more than a linen robe. Add to this the sound of his battle-cries – like those of a raging bear – and you will see why Gatrick was (and is) such a formidable foe.

Happily, though, Gatrick and I had no reason to be anything other than friends, and we sat talking and drinking until past midnight. After he had told me of his travels since we had last met (which was, if I remember rightly, somewhere in High Rock around three years before) we reminisced about the various adventures we had had together. The accuracy of what we remembered, though, is something I am unsure of. With every drink the tales grew taller, and our deeds more heroic, until in the end we were both quite convinced that we had once been captured by a daedric prince, and had managed to escape and liberate all manner of priceless artefacts from his servants.

By this time, almost all of the tavern’s patrons had left, and the barmaid suggested that Gatrick and myself should rent rooms for the night. At this point I was probably outrageously rude to her, but it is a testament to her patience and good nature that, on waking up the next morning, I found myself lying in a bed in a guest-room, rather than sprawled out on the street.

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Here are a couple of pictures of the two characters:

Alric Lycester -

[img]http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y217/Chumbaniya/Alric1.jpg[/img]

Gatrick Farrow -

[img]http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y217/Chumbaniya/Gatrick.jpg[/img]

Really good chumbie.....and awesome pics...


more please? :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob:

People with their dang mods.... Arrrrrr im a pirate! Not really.

Good job. :goodjob: One goodjob is enough people. Not a bigizillion.

Awesome story. Nice Pics. Umm Only one thing I have to say. I need more.

A good installment- we begin to get glimmers of Alric's personality in a well-written narrative style. His friendship with Gatrick also tells us a bit about the lead character. More of this, please.

[quote=treydog]A good installment- we begin to get glimmers of Alric's personality in a well-written narrative style. His friendship with Gatrick also tells us a bit about the lead character. More of this, please.[/quote]

Hehe, you're starting to sound like my english exam . Thanks everyone, I'll keep at it. Hopefully something more exciting can happen soon, this is all just building up a background.

I uh..like the pictures. I'm too stupid to read though.

[quote=Chumbaniya][quote=treydog]A good installment- we begin to get glimmers of Alric's personality in a well-written narrative style. His friendship with Gatrick also tells us a bit about the lead character. More of this, please.[/quote]

Hehe, you're starting to sound like my english exam . Thanks everyone, I'll keep at it. Hopefully something more exciting can happen soon, this is all just building up a background.[/quote]

What can I say? Every now and then I have a flashback to my teaching college composition days :paperbag:

But it is still a good story- beats the scrib jelly out of "What Should I Wear to the Sorority Social?"

[quote=Konradude]I uh..like the pictures. I'm too stupid to read though.[/quote]

Now you´re at it again! What makes you think you´re stupid? You should really give it a try, reading the stories here! they are not that hard to read, I think maybe you are a bit unexperienced in reading.....and the best cure for that...is.....yeees that´s right.....reading!!!!


Chumbaniya here has really written a good, easy-to-read story, so give it a go Konrad....you won´t regret it

:goodjob:

Another update for you . I best tell you though that there's no actual plan for the story as a whole, so it may or may not end up coherent. Anyway, here goes...

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Unfortunately for me, however, this did not alter the fact that I woke with a terrible hangover. Finding Gatrick in a similar state downstairs, and with no reason for us to move on so soon, I suggested that we spend the day in Balmora. Gatrick seemed to be relieved by this, though he didn’t admit it – he was, like many Nords, proud of his ability to take large amounts of drink, and he did his best not show the effects of his own hangover while I recovered from mine.

It was only that afternoon, as we were walking around Balmora, that he told me his real reason for travelling to Vvardenfell. After he had asked me to clarify the story of my release from prison, I realised he had not told me why he was here himself. When I asked, he led me just outside of the town, then sat down on a flat rock and started to explain. As he began to tell his story, his face darkened, and his tone grew grim.

“Seven years ago, Alric, a young man, a Dunmer, came to my family’s village in Skyrim. He was given food and shelter by my people, as the lands where the village lies are cold and barren, and the wilderness can be dangerous for travellers. At the time, I was away on my travels, so I can only tell you what happened as it was told to me.”

As he spoke, I watched his face carefully, but he was staring into the river with a glazed look in his eyes.

“This young man stayed with my people for a few days. He was quiet and solitary, and he never spoke about himself. He simply accepted what my people offered him, and thanked them for their hospitality. One night, though, my brother came back earlier than usual from his hunt, and he heard his wife screaming as he entered his house. He rushed in, drawing his axe ready, and found his wife struggling to escape the clutches of the young Dunmer. He was enraged, and raised his axe to slay him, but the Dunmer had heard him coming, and he turned to face my brother and plunged a dagger into his heart. After that he fled, and he was never seen by any of the villagers again.”

Gatrick was shaking as he came to the end of his story, partly with anger and partly with sadness. I too was moved by the tale – he had never told me of his brother’s murder before – but I was still confused as to how this had brought Gatrick to Vvardenfell.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I am telling you this now” he said, “When I returned to my village, after hearing the news that my brother was dead, I spoke to his wife about my brother’s murderer. I learned little from her, as she was still grieving for my brother, but I was given a name. That name was Nichis Sorendel. I was hungry to seek revenge on him, but I knew that I had little chance of ever finding him. However, the name stuck in my memory, and around a month ago I heard it mentioned again.”

“I was working as a hired guard in Winterhold, and I caught a smuggler trying to load crates of liquors onto his boat. He was clearly afraid for his life, and he was willing to tell me any information so that I would not harm him. I would not have hurt him in any case, but I asked him who he was transporting the liquors to, thinking it could be useful information for my employers. The name he gave me was the same name I had been given by my brother’s wife, seven years ago – Nichis Sorendel."

"At first I was stunned, but I regained my wits and asked him where the goods were to be transported to. He told me they were destined for Morrowind, to the coastal village of Khuul. At this, my hunger for vengeance was renewed, and I let the smuggler go, right then and there, and I gathered together my belongings and set sail for Morrowind as soon as I could. Now I am here, I will find this village, Khuul, and I will finally take the life of Nichis Sorendel and avenge my brother’s death.”

Beautifully written, a really high-class story we have here, now don´t disappoint me Chumbaniya, please update and continue this.....ok?

:goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob:

Nice Chumb.. :goodjob: Please, by all means keep it coming :lickinglips:

Oooh, good. It's getting personal now. Very well-written and easy to read. Very involving, and I hope you will continue. :goodjob:

Oh, one thing. I think 'spent' should be 'spend'. (The line, "spend the day in Balmora") But that's just me. I'm not good at tenses, but that one is bugging me... So, I may be wrong.

[quote=MerGirl]Oooh, good. It's getting personal now. Very well-written and easy to read. Very involving, and I hope you will continue. :goodjob:

Oh, one thing. I think 'spent' should be 'spend'. (The line, "spend the day in Balmora") But that's just me. I'm not good at tenses, but that one is bugging me... So, I may be wrong. [/quote]

I see what you mean with 'spent', and I think it works with either spent or spend, but I think you're probably right that spend is the right word to use there, since I was describing what Alric suggested, not what they did. *changes*