Wow, I love this whole story of how Haa-Rei became a werewolf. Both Trivea’s and Haa-Rei’s transformations were vivid and easy to imagine but didn’t bog the fight down with too much detail. Yikes, I wonder if he will be able to keep his wolf spirit from killing Trivea’s vampire self!

There was something awry with the way that dark elf woman carried herself ever since Haa-Rei woke up with her standing there, and the hint has been pointed out, too.

I do wonder how this will affect Haa-Rei, as he's essentially fighting his own kind now. But judging his character, he finds no kinship with these beasts.

After a violent confrontation with the wolves, Haa-Rei's bestial instincts takes him to fight a worthier opponent, no doubt ancient and deadly. A vampire lord is no base prey!

mALX - I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Heh, you always manage to pick out the parts that I was most pleased with when I was writing. Keep an eye on that Leyawiin Hist - you might be on to something there

ghastley - I think cruor can be slick, like a petroleum jelly sort of consistency. You're right about the transformation control, though I wonder who is really the one in charge of the situation.

Acadian - I never really use scrolls, but I can't deny their usefulness.

Grits - Thanks! I thought it was a part of the story that was worth telling properly, but I don't want it to go on too long.

DE - I think it's worth keeping an eye on anyone who willingly lives in a cave on Solstheim. Haa-Rei's just glad that she's on his side, though the inner wolf spirit seems to have missed that announcement.



Previously - Aided by a Storm Atronach scroll, Haa-Rei fought several werewolves while Trivea engaged the pack leader in a duel. After being injured, Haa-Rei transformed into a werewolf and began advancing towards Trivea...

Chapter 44



Even with all of my mental energy trying to stop myself, my body was moving ever closer to Trivea. I could feel the wolf spirit's thirst for blood, its innate need to hunt and kill and feed. Its raw power was staggering, and I could understand why so many people were overpowered by it and became feral.

Trivea had noticed too, but seemed completely calm, focusing her attention on the pack leader as it attacked again and again. She lashed out with one hand, pushing the creature back several feet and allowing a spell to be cast with her free hand.

The spell floated lazily in my direction and exploded in a puff of purple smoke at my feet. From the smoke rose a creature I'd never seen before. It almost resembled an Imp, with grey skin, a muscular body, and a pair of wings on its back. Unlike an imp it was enormous, even taller than me in werewolf form, with a hideous face that was frozen in a mask of fury. Its grey skin looked to be made of stone, and my body instinctively raised my arms to block as the creature swung a massive paw towards me.

The impact jarred my arm, drawing out a growl from deep within my chest. I countered quickly, opening several deep wounds on the creature's chest. Its skin was not stone, but a very tough hide - I hoped that I would never face one of these creatures in Argonian form.

The creature and I traded blows for another minute or so before it vanished in a flash of light. Either it was weaker than it looked, or Trivea had recalled it. The latter option seemed the most likely, and I briefly wondered just how strong Trivea was if this creature could be summoned and recalled so easily.

My lupine body was bleeding from numerous wounds, and I could feel the wolf spirit weakening gradually. With no small amount of effort I managed to focus my will and suppress it, slowly taking back control of my body. At first I wasn't sure if it had worked, but I could start to feel things more clearly now, and then move various body parts - first a finger, then a paw, then my whole arm.

I was still in werewolf form, but I was now in control. I was too exhausted to move though, and simply stood back and watched the ongoing duel as my wounds knitted themselves back together.

Trivea had the upper hand. A large set of claw marks crossed the pack leader's face, and had taken an eye with them. Its regeneration seemed to have stopped, unable to keep up with so many injuries, and its attacks had also slowed, allowing Trivea to dodge more than she had to block. Sensing that it was losing, the pack leader launched a desperate flurry of attacks, but none of them found their mark - Trivea simply turned into a cloud of mist and disappeared.

She reappeared behind her foe, and before it could react she lashed out and grabbed its arms. Her wings then folded into two spear-like appendages and embedded themselves in the werewolf's torso. The creature was now completely immobile, and I watched with a grim sense of satisfaction as Trivea's fangs were introduced to the pack leader's neck. I felt my connection to it vanish as it crashed to the ground, the pristine white pelt now a bloody ruin.

A dark mist swirled around Trivea and moments later she was back to her Dunmer form, grinning widely like a Khajiit in a sugar den. She walked over to me as casually as one might approach a small puppy, and retrieved a glass vial from her pocket. It took the last of my strength to kneel down to her height and allow her to pour the liquid into my mouth.

"Good dog." she said quietly, reaching up to scratch my head.

I slumped down onto the ground and even as I felt my body begin to shrink and return to normal, my vision darkened and I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to a familiar sight, packed snow above me. I was back in Trivea's cave.

I was also back to my Argonian form, and I sat up slowly to inspect myself for any wounds, fur, or other signs of the battle. I'd healed completely, and all scales were accounted for.

"If you continue sleeping in my bed people might start to gossip, you know." said Trivea from somewhere off to one side.

"Where...where are you?" I asked, only just noticing the adjoining room. Was that always there?

"Come and see."

It was a small room, big enough for a bed and a small desk which my pack was sitting on.

"Did you just build this?"

"I did indeed, my dear. You need somewhere to stay while you train, and a girl needs her privacy." she placed her hands on her hips and nodded, clearly satisfied with her construction work. Apparently any post-battle discussion would wait for another time, for which I was thankful.

"Oh. Well, thank you Trivea. Erm...what training, exactly?" I asked hesitantly.

"Werewolf training, of course. We can't have you transforming in the middle of a town now can we? Then there'll be alchemy training, some conjuration training, and some lessons in demi-daedric lore." Trivea counted out her list on her slender fingers. As expected, I wouldn't get a say in the matter.

"Conjuration? I'm not a mage."

"Not yet you're not, but I can sense your affinity for it. It's all about your soul, you see. That's why the pack leader chose you too. You have a strong soul, and thus the potential to be a strong werewolf, and mage." I didn't understand, but nodded anyway. "Well, no time like the present, shall we get started?"


Several weeks later, and my training was all complete. I was now slightly more able to control my Lycanthropy, though I still needed to keep the potion handy - the scent of blood was a powerful catalyst for the wolf spirit. I could also summon a Flame Atronach, who had introduced herself as Eithne, and was working on summoning a Storm Atronach. It was time for my mentor and I to part ways.

"Make sure to keep a good stock of potion with you, and practice your spells as often as you can." Trivea reminded me for the fourth time that morning.

"I will, Triv. Where will you go now?"

"I have business in Cyrodiil. We'll see each other again though. You'd be surprised how small the world truly is when you're immortal." She gave me a quick hug, despite knowing of my aversion to physical contact, and patted me on the head. She was a terrifying vampiress, who had stalked the face of Nirn for over 1000 years, and she had become one of my best friends.

After we parted ways I returned to the Imperial Fort and gave a...slightly altered report on what had transpired several weeks ago. Fortunately the captain was much more interested in his flask of brandy than he was in me, and waved me off without any questions.

Several days later I returned to Morrowind, and from there I was transferred to Cyrodiil.

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

I finished my story and flopped back onto the floor of the Skingrad guild hall, exhausted after speaking for so long.

“Wow…I…thank you for telling me…� Cirinwe said quietly. She looked to be deep in thought for a few moments before she continued. “I think I have a plan.�

“Hm?� I made a vague noise to indicate that I was listening and slowly sat up.

“We’re going vampire hunting.�

Now that got my attention.

Very neat conclusion of Haa-Rei’s tale to Cirinwe of how he became a werewolf. I really enjoyed his descriptions of what it felt like to be in beast form – power but at the same time, powerless in a way.

Trivea turned out to be a great ally indeed. A mentor, even.

Hmm, now what could Cirinwe have in mind? Can’t wait to find out!

Acadian - Trivea and Cirinwe have certainly helped Haa-Rei a lot already. Where would we be without Mer-maids, eh?



Previously - Haa-Rei finished telling the story of his Lycanthropy, and after hearing everything Cirinwe came up with a plan...

Chapter - 45



“We’re doing what?� I asked, unsure if I’d heard Cirinwe correctly.

“Vampire hunting. Or searching. For your friend Trivea.� Cirinwe clarified.

I thought about it for a few moments. “Hmm, I see. You think she might know something that could help.�

“You said she’d told you she was coming to Cyrodiil, right? Surely it’s worth a shot.�

“The only problem is that I have no idea whereabouts in Cyrodiil she is. She could be in a cave in the wilderness, or a townhouse in the Imperial City. She’s a very small needle in a very large haystack.� I could track lots of different creatures, but vampires are a much more elusive quarry than I could manage.

“Well, the only other thing that could help us is the library at the Arcane University. We could always try and think about ways to find Trivea on the way to the city.� Cirinwe suggested. I had no idea why she was so intent on helping me, but I was most grateful for it.

Seeing no reason to hang around in Skingrad, we set off several minutes later. We’d only been in the town for a single evening and the better part of a morning but it felt like I’d been there for weeks.

It was good to be out in the relative wilderness of Cyrodiil again. The sheer abundance of life so close to the walls of major settlements always surprised me. Of course, not all wildlife is friendly. We passed a mound of burnt goblin corpses outside an old mine, the Fighter’s Guild emblem daubed on the door to show that they had cleared it out.

We had an encounter with a particularly angry imp, but a single arrow was enough to put a stop to its lightning lobbing. The creature that was notably absent on such an important road was the now-elusive Imperial Guardsman. Usually they would patrol the roads of Cyrodiil in small groups to make sure traders and travellers could go about their business unmolested, but I was yet to see anything resembling law and order on the road. Surely a Daedric invasion was when the guards were needed the most. Putting those thoughts aside, I turned my attention to my companion, who’d been deep in thought ever since we’d left the guild hall.

“Cirinwe?� I began, remembering a question I’d been meaning to ask.

“Hm?� she looked up from her study of the road and its effects on one’s boots.

“Back in Anvil, you said that you’d read my file at the Mages Guild…what exactly is in the file?� I’d been curious for a while now.

“Well, it said that you’re from Black Marsh, and that you’re an adventurer. Oh, and you’re in the Legion. That’s all just information to help decide what role would suit you best in the guild.�

“I see. What role would suit me best?� I was relieved that my Blades membership wasn’t included, but now more curious than ever.
“Well that’s not decided until you finish your recommendations, but since you’re an adventurer you wouldn’t be stationed at a specific guild hall. You’d be more of a travelling scholar. Legion members are usually assigned to battlemage groups though, so it would also depend on your Legion rank and duties.�

“Hmm. I quite like the sound of being a travelling scholar.� I said, wondering how it would be any different from the dungeon-delving and adventuring that I had always done. More note taking? Less looting?

Cirinwe was quite for a while, and after several false starts spoke again. “Can I ask you a question?�

“Of course.�

“My sister said she’d told you about my past…� she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

“Only a little. You’re a talented mage from the Summerset Isles who left a prestigious mage academy after some sort of incident…and that’s it.� Now that I thought about, I didn’t know much about her at all.

“Well, that’s certainly quite brief.�

I shrugged. “I just assumed that you’d tell me more if you thought I needed to know.�

“Oh, well thank you. I want to tell you more, it’s just…difficult to talk about.� She absentmindedly rubbed her scars. I decided that I wouldn’t pursue it.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a good person, and that’s all anybody should need to know about their travelling companions.�

She smiled slightly and looked as if she wanted to say more, but remained silent. We resumed our journey and after a day, a night, and another half a day we arrived on the outskirts of the village of Weye.

Almost immediately after we entered the village we were approached by a man wearing the traditional fisherman garb of waterproof waders, though one leg of the waders had been removed to allow bandages to be applied to the man's leg. He had the aura of a quest-giver about him, and I could only hope that the job wouldn’t be too difficult…

At least he didn't have a glowing arrow over his head, pointing at him! Then you'd know you already have the quest in your journal.

So, vampire hunting means looking for Trivea. Good idea and Cirinwe is both wise and helpful. Oh, and going to the Arcane University is always a great idea, almost no matter what you’re seeking.

I enjoyed their trip and, as ever, Haa-Rei’s always interesting observations. I also like how you are gradually coaxing more info out of both them as they interact. Haa-Rei has recently spilled all his werewolf guts to Cirinwe so, hopefully, she’ll reveal more of her past to him as well.

I quite chuckled as the couple entered Weye – only to be approached by a fellow with the ‘aura of a quest giver about him’.

As ever, this story is a joy to read!

*

Chapter 12

This chapter is outstanding in every way; really makes it very clear the difference between someone creating and writing about a character; and someone who intimately knows that character integrally.

It is such an awesome feeling reading this; I am learning about Argonians and Haa-Rei more than I have known about him these many years - LOVING this story!!!! And loving your writing too! You have such an easy 'tongue-in-cheek' style of writing that just makes reading it a total pleasure! Like Treydog said about Buffy = comfort food for the soul.

You even made going to fill a flask from the river an adventure when heard through the mind of Haa-Rei; and that was just one example of many!

This paragraph in particular was just plain fantastic:




Awesome, AWESOME Write !!!!!


*

*

Chapter 13

I am loving the idea (if I'm right about this) that the Hist locked up by the Blackwood Company has drawn Argonians from all over! And Haa-Rei wondering why he wasn't "called to the party" = a perfect touch!!! But he is still feeling that unease, so maybe he was drawn there like the others?

I don't know, but I am totally LOVING this story!!!! And the close easy bond between Haa-Rei and Deeh is so well written !!!

This has already been quoted, but I can't go without pointing it out:



Amazing how you bring Deeh to life here, and your own world building with Argonians is spectacular !!!

Fantastic Write!!!




*

*


Chapter 14




SPEW!!!

All of Haa-Rei's conversations with (and especially inner diaogues about) Olorin have kept me in stitches laughing! This whole scene of Olorin wanting Haa-Rei to join the Mages Guild was just perfect!

Well that was a molst exciting fight! And WOO HOO on Haa-Rei joining the Mages Guild!!!


Awesome Write!!!



*

ghastley -

Acadian - ArcUni is good for everything except fashion. Have you seen those robes!? We'll definitely be learning more about Ciri, just as soon as she feels up to it.

mALX - Your observations are spot on as always, and I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!



Previously - After deciding to find the elusive Trivea, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe resumed their journey to the Imperial City. As they entered the village of Weye, however, they were approached by a fisherman...

Chapter 46



“You there! I’ve been waiting for you!� Shouted the fisherman as he limped over to us. I exchanged a look with Cirinwe, who shrugged to show that she was similarly innocent of the man’s acquaintance.

“Er…waiting for whom?� I asked when the man finally reached us. He had the round face of a Breton, though it was so weathered and tanned that he could have been mistaken for an Imperial. Despite his age, his arms were roped with muscle that comes from years of physical labour.

“You!� He pointed to me. “Well, not you exactly, but an Argonian, or a fisherman, or even just someone willing to help out an old man.�

“Help with what?� I asked to try and coax more information out of him. Why people couldn’t just tell me what they wanted, or better yet write it down, had always been a mystery to me.

“I'm a fisherman. Or at least, I was. Until one of those slaughterfish damn near took my leg off.� he indicated the limb in question, “I was collecting their scales, see. I had a contract with this young alchemist. You wouldn't believe what he was paying for those scales! Then last month, one of the fish got a hold of my leg. Took me right out of the business. But this alchemist, he needs the scales right away.� He stopped there, as if that was enough.

“…and you want me to…get some fish scales?�

“Yes! I only needed twelve more scales! Can you believe it? I was so close! I've picked up a few things in my travels. If you head out there and bring me back the twelve scales that I need, I can make it worth your time.� He yelled, finally getting to the point.

“When you say twelve scales…� I asked, unclear whether he wanted twelve scales or the scales of twelve fish. He confirmed that it was the latter, and returned to sit on his porch. Apparently I wouldn’t be getting a fishing lesson.

“I don’t suppose you want to join me?� I asked Cirinwe, who looked rather amused for someone who’s companion was about to do battle with a swarm of flesh-eating water beasts.

“I think I’d only slow you down, not being able to breathe water and all. I’ll wait on the shore and hold your equipment.�

A few minutes later and we were standing on the shore. I’d removed most of my clothing, everything except my greaves – partially for the sake of modesty, and partially to protect my legs in the event of an aquatic altercation. I retrieved a knife from my pack and nodded to Cirinwe, who gave me a small wave and a slight smile.

The water was warmer than I’d expected, and I spent a few moments floating near the surface to allow my body to adjust to the temperature. Slaughterfish have rather poor eyesight, but can sense heat quite well. After that I slowly made my way to the bottom of the lake, or as close to the bottom as I dared. The bed of the lake was made up of sludge and sewage, which poured out of the city and drifted to the bottom. I wasn’t too keen on getting too close to that, so I stayed several feet above it.

Slaughterfish usually stay near the surface, unless they’re laying eggs, and have eyes that face slightly upwards. Thus, attacking from below would make it much easier for me. Add to that my low body temperature and my calm swimming motions and I would be finished in no time, with minimal risk.

The spines on my head, being used for their true purpose for once, could pinpoint movement from quite a distance away underwater. There were plenty of slaughterfish in the vicinity, so I got to work.

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

Cirinwe yawned, feeling more than a little tired after so much walking. It had only been a few days since they had set out from Anvil, and she was yet to get used to all the exercise. She was enjoying herself though, more than she had done for a very long time.

When Ailinwe had first suggested this trip, Cirinwe had been a little unsure of it. The Imperial City was quite a draw, but travelling there on foot and in the company of a stranger made her more than a little nervous. Of course that stranger was now someone she considered to be a friend, and here she was holding his equipment while he darted about after slaughterfish to help out an old man.

Every so often he would appear at the surface to lob another fish onto the beach, and Cirinwe would tell him how many he’d caught before he disappeared again. Everyone knew that Argonians were good swimmers, but now Cirinwe realised that it wasn’t swimming at all. He simply moved through the water, propelled by his powerful tail, no splashing or flailing of limbs that counts as swimming among other races.

Cirinwe wondered what else she didn’t know about Argonians, and Haa-Rei specifically. She wanted to ask him where he grew up, and about his adventures in Morrowind, and about his favourite books, but she wasn’t sure how. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted to talk to her, her scar usually being the only thing people can see, and she was quite out of practice.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by Haa-Rei’s return. He waded out of the lake, sun shining on his green scales, and flopped onto the sand. Beside him lay twelve large fish, jaws full of needle sharp teeth.

“Let’s get these back to the fisherman.� said Haa-Rei, stifling a yawn. No doubt slaughterfishing was tiring work.

Cirinwe felt warmth rise to her cheeks as she realised she’d be staring at him the whole time, but composed herself and nodded her agreement. The two headed back to the fisherman, who was both grateful and surprised at the Argonian’s efficiency.

"I'm looking forward to my retirement - long days in the stable with the horses, long mornings in bed, and best of all: no more fish." The fisherman beamed, handing Haa-Rei his reward – a ring which looked to be enchanted.

They took their leave of the old man, who had already begun de-scaling the fish, and headed towards the Imperial City. They had arrived at last.

Of course, for once we have a protagonist who doesn't need the reward before starting the quest. Hopefully Haa-Rei isn't annoyed that it's not particularly useful to him.

What great fun to see this quest through the eyes of our Argonian friend! It answers the obvious question that most questers have about why the fisherman waited until the hero nearly drowns killing fish before offering a ring of waterbreathing. In Haa-Rei's case, I bet the ring would be a perfect gift for Ciri. . . . Loved swimming with his tail, matching his own temperature to that of the water and relying on his headspines to help locate his prey. As I said, great fun to read!

Also nice to get a peek into the mind of Cirinwe. And to confirm that she just might indeed have a touch of romantic interest in her scaly companion.

ghastley - Don't worry, I'm sure he'll find a use for it.

Acadian - I've been watching my axolotls swimming a lot recently, so I had some good inspiration. There'll definitely be more Ciri stuff at some point.



Previously - Haa-Rei went fishing in Lake Rumare, and was awarded an enchanted ring by the old fisherman. With no more distractions, Haa-Rei and Cirinwe entered the Imperial City...

Chapter 47



“So this is the Imperial City? It’s almost as I imagined it.� Remarked Cirinwe as we entered the gates.

The city was the same as it had been on my last visit, though it was late in the afternoon when we arrived so the streets were a lot quieter.

“Do you know how to get to the University from here?� I asked.

“I should be fine, I have a map.� Cirinwe looked nervous, though I wasn’t sure if it was the city or the prospect of entering another mage academy that was causing it. “Oh, that’s right, I haven’t asked where you’ll be. We should meet up tomorrow, I’ll look for some books tonight and we can discuss…your problem and how to find Trivea.� She produced a pristine map of the Imperial City, with the Arcane University highlighted in blue ink, from the sleeves of her robes.

“Luther Broad’s Boarding House, in the Elven Gardens district. Here.� I indicated the location with a claw.

“Thank you…and thank you for accompanying me this far.� She smiled and bowed slightly in a traditional Altmer gesture of thanks. She paused for a second, asif she was going to continue, but decided against it.

“My pleasure. I’ll see you tomorrow.� I did my best to smile with my mouth as humans and elves do and watched her leave before heading off to Luther Broad’s.

The boarding house, as before, was nice and quiet. There were only five people in the common room, including who I assume was Luther who was speaking quietly to a figure at the bar. He nodded to me as I entered and indicated a free bar stool. I'd never actually met Luther before, so I was a little curious to learn how he knew me by sight. As I approached I suddenly recognised the figure, and sat down beside them.

“Baurus.� I greeted the Redguard Blade quietly. He had been with The Emperor when he’d been assassinated, and I hadn’t seen him since. Today he was wearing a pair of light brown braies and a thin green woollen shirt – a very different look from the heavy Akaviri style Blades armour he’d previously been wearing. Despite obviously being undercover he still wore his katana at his hip.

“Good afternoon. I have a message from Jauffre.� he said quietly, getting straight down to business, “Weynon Priory was attacked, but the package is safe and secure. They’ve relocated to Cloud Ruler Temple.�

“No new orders?� I asked, hoping that I wasn’t going to be sent off somewhere before Cirinwe and I could finish our current task.

“Business as usual, but all agents are on alert for any red robes.� Red robes meaning the mysterious group who had killed the Emperor. I’d hoped to see the last of them.

“I see. Thank you.� I wondered why Baurus was really here, being a messenger was obviously a secondary task. No doubt it would be considered bad form to ask a secret agent what he was up to, so I stayed quiet.

I could hear someone getting up and leaving in the far corner, and was aware that Baurus was listening too. He rose to leave as soon as the stranger left the inn, nodding to me in silent farewell. He looked a lot older than when we’d first met, though it wasn’t difficult to understand why.

Once he’d gone I booked a room and made my way upstairs. I locked the door behind me, kicked off my boots, and dumped my pack on the floor before crawling onto the bed. A lot had happened recently and I needed time to relax and take it all in. I rose to a sitting position, legs crossed and hands resting in my lap, and let my mind drift off.

I was worried. Worried about daedra pouring out of Oblivion gates all over Cyrodiil, worried about Eithne the flame atronach who was still missing and unsummonable, and worried about accidentally transforming into a werewolf in my sleep.

I was also happy. Happy that I’d made friends with Jötnar, Sjöfn and Olorin when I’d first arrived here, happy that I was a Blade, and most of all I was happy to have met Cirinwe. Rarely did I feel so comfortable around another person, especially so soon after meeting them. The idea that I could have turned feral back in Skingrad and caused her harm made me sick, and I was beyond grateful that she was so willing to help.

All in all this was making my usually peaceful meditation quite confusing, but when I emerged from my room a couple of hours later I felt much more relaxed.

It was meal time in the common room, and there were a lot more people than before. It still wasn’t crowded though, just lively. The quietest table was a familiar one, and I was soon spotted and called over.

“Well I’ll be a horker’s uncle. Haa-Rei!� boomed a familiar voice. Between his unkempt brown hair, his fur armour, and his massive size, he resembled a brown bear more than a horker, though the smell of ale and mead gave him away.

“Good to see you, Jötnar.� I greeted him with a nod and sat down in the chair across from him. He was dining alone, on a meal that seemed to consist entirely of meat. In the chair beside him was his heavy greatsword and several pieces of iron armour.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see you here. My sister said you’d gone to Kvatch, and then we heard what had happened there...� He looked more curious than worried, so I told him a little of what had happened. I missed out the parts where I closed an Oblivion gate and almost transformed into a werewolf of course.

“…so I just got back a couple of hours ago. What about you? I assume you didn’t get that scar from sitting around here all day.� I gestured to the fresh scar on his face, which ran from the bridge of his nose to his jawline.

“Oh, this? Had a little scrap with some goblins outside of Skingrad. Part of my initiation into the Fighters Guild.� he grinned widely, clearly proud of himself.

“Really? Congratulations! I saw some dead goblins outside a mine near Skingrad. Was that…?� I asked, remembering the pile of charred corpses and the Fighters Guild emblem. If Cirinwe and I had been an hour earlier we might have caught up with him.

“That’s right! The Fighters Guild really knows how to show a guy a good time. Don’t get me wrong, I like my Legion work too, but this involves a lot more fighting.� He let out a large belch and waved his tankard in the air to signal a refill. When the waitress arrived I ordered myself some tea and a small bowl of the Boarding House’s daily special – Slaughterfish rice.

Jötnar was still drinking when I took my leave of him a couple of hours later. We’d discussed our respective work with the Legion, and of course I’d had to listen to more tales of his incredibly numerous conquests, both on and off the battlefield. We’d also agreed to train together the next day, though I’d be surprised if he would remember his own name after drinking enough ale to fill Lake Rumare twice over.

It was good to be back.

Poor Haa-Rei – trying to smile for Cirinwe like a mer or human.

’No doubt it would be considered bad form to ask a secret agent what he was up to, so I stayed quiet.’ - - This is so very Haa-Rei! I also really liked his observation about Baurus having aged. It really brings home how the Redguard's ‘failure’ to protect his Emperor must weigh on him.

Even Haa-Rei’s meditation seems so perfectly reptilian for him.

I love Jötnar’s attitude about the Fighters Guild – basically, ‘they let me kill stuff and I get paid for it!’

Acadian - Yep, the only thing better than hitting things with a big sword is getting paid to do so.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe arrived in the Imperial City, and the Altmer went to the Arcane University. After heading to Luther Broad's Boarding House, Haa-Rei learned that Weynon Priory had been attacked, forcing Jauffre to relocate to Cloud Ruler Temple. Later, Haa-Rei was reunited with Jötnar and the two spent an evening catching up, with plans to spar with each other the following morning...

Chapter 48



I awoke the next morning feeling groggy. My sleep was becoming increasingly restless and I had to drink more tea than usual to wake myself up before heading downstairs.

To my surprise, Jötnar was already there. He was in the same seat he had occupied the night before, though he was not drinking, instead engaging in a great battle against a quill and some parchment. The look on the Nord’s face suggested that he was losing.

“Good morning.� I resumed my position in the opposite seat.

“Hey. Is this right?� He slid the parchment across the table for my perusal. At the top of the page in a clear, elegant hand was a list of words. Beneath each was Jötnar’s valiant attempt to copy them down.

“What am I looking for?� I asked, unsure.

“Y’know, spelling. I have to read Olorin’s words, then cover them up, say them out loud, and write them down myself.� The night before he had told me that Olorin was teaching him to read, and that Jötnar was awaiting promotion in the legion which required him to pass a written exam. I was happy to help, and went through the words with him to point out errors.

In fact we were so busy with writing that we didn’t notice our guests until they reached our table.

“Hard at work, I see. Makes a change.� Sjöfn said, nudging Jötnar with a skinny elbow. She looked none the worse for wear after our adventure near Chorrol. She nodded and I waved a claw in greeting and turned to her companions.

Olorin looked even older than I remembered, if that was possible. His face was deeply wrinkled, but his eyes were clear and full of vigour. He had tucked his long beard into his belt and was leaning on a gnarled wooden staff like an illustration of a wizard from a Breton children’s book.

Behind him, peering over the stack of books she was carrying, was Cirinwe. Somehow I wasn’t surprised to see that they had all bumped into each other, and couldn’t help but smile to see her. Jötnar seemed almost as pleased as me, and moved to stand in front of her before Sjöfn had finished introducing him.

“Allow me, my lady,� He took the stack of books and placed them on the table as if they weighed nothing, and brought one of Cirinwe’s hands up to his lips. “Haa-Rei didn’t mention that his companion was so beautiful. If I’d have known I’d have-�

“That’s enough.� Interrupted Sjöfn, cuffing the larger Nord around the ear and dragging him back to his seat.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Jötnar.� Said Cirinwe with a small bow, remaining dignified in the face of the Nord’s advances, before moving to stand beside me. “I met Olorin at the University, and Sjöfn on the way here. Quite a stroke of luck to bump into friends of yours. Even with a map I might have lost my way.�

“Just in time too!� Said Jötnar before I could reply. “Haa-Rei and I were about to head over to the training grounds for a little bit of sparring. You should come and watch, cheer us on.�

“Cirinwe and I have research to discuss…� I began. I’d hoped that Jötnar would have forgotten about our sparring, but apparently not.

“It’s fine� Cirinwe said, “I haven’t learned anything that can’t wait until after your training.� It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn that there was a spark of mischief in the Altmer’s eyes.

“There we are then! Nothing like watching two strapping young lads stripping down and oiling up for a good scrap.� Bellowed Jötnar, clearly excited.

“I’m not doing either of those first two things.� I assured him as the four of us left the Boarding House. Olorin remained behind to ‘hold down the fort’, by which he meant that he would have a nap in front of the fire.


It was short trip from the Elven Gardens District to the Prison District. Despite the name, the prison itself is almost entirely underground. On the surface the walled area houses the Imperial Legion offices, barracks, armoury, and training grounds.

We were greeted at the entrance to the training grounds by a short, stout Imperial man who peered at us through a pair of spectacles which balanced precariously on the end of his large nose. He gestured to the small desk beside him, and asked us to sign our names and ranks before entering. His eyes widened when he read my information, and he snapped to attention with such ferocity that his glasses flew clean off his nose, saved only by the chain that attached them to his tunic.

“I-if I can be of any assistance at all, please do not hesitate, sir!� He stammered, clearly taken off guard.

“We just want to use a training area.� Replied Jötnar, receiving a harsh look from the Imperial.

“I was addressing the Legate.� The Imperial said, still at attention. I’d forgotten that my usual rank of ‘Agent’ only applied in Morrowind. The equivalent rank of Legate was used in most other areas of the Empire. I wasn’t sure if I felt like a Legate, but I quite liked the sound of it.

“As my friend said, we wish to make use of a training area…erm…you can stop saluting now too.� Being a Legate was already proving to be hard work.

The little man led us to an empty training area and, after several more salutes, left us in peace. The training area was little more than a large patch of dirt, surrounded by walls. Along one wall was a set of benches, which Sjöfn and Cirinwe made their way towards. The other walls were lined with weapon racks, archery targets, training dummies, and anything else that one might need to hone their skills.

Jötnar and I selected our weapons. He opted for a two-handed sword, a thinner but longer blade than he usually used. I chose a standard longsword, opting to go without a shield. I could hear Cirinwe and Sjöfn chatting quietly on the other side of the area, though I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“I fought a frost troll once, armed only with the jawbone of an ox, but I’ve never been quite so terrified as I am when I see two young girls in deep conversation.� Said Jötnar beside me, looking over to our companions. At that moment I heard Sjöfn giggle, and saw Jötnar shudder slightly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing sinister.�

“Well I’m glad you’re not worried, since it’s probably you they’re talking about. Cirinwe hasn’t taken her eyes off you since she walked into the Boarding House.� Jötnar clapped me on the shoulder. “You should really tell her if you’re not interested.�

“She what? Me?� Either Cirinwe had been very subtle, or I was just too dense to notice how she felt. Probably the latter. “Well…it’s not that I’m not interested…it’s just that I don’t…� It was difficult to explain, and I was getting flustered.

“I get it. You’re asexual, right? Had you pegged pretty early on.� Once again Jötnar surprised me by how good he was at reading people. He would be an excellent spy, if he could learn to keep his mouth shut.

“Mhm.� I nodded, busying myself by swinging the sword around.

“…and you’re scared because you think she’ll want a more physical relationship.� He tapped me on the side of the head. “You think too much. You should talk to her about it instead.� It seemed incredibly simple when he put it like that. If only talking to people actually was that easy.

“Can we just hit each other with swords now?� I asked him, eager to end the conversation.

He’d given me a lot to think about.

The return of the Three Amigos!

Despite Jotnar’s struggle versus quill and parchment, his insight into Haa-Rei and Ciri is quite remarkable. Her response to the big Nord’s flirting by remaining aloof and stepping closer to Haa-Rei spoke volumes. I hope Haa-Rei takes Jotnar’s advice to talk with Ciri.

I loved the adorable description you gave of the stout little bespectacled guard they encountered in the prison district.

As ever, this tale is great fun to read!

Acadian - Everyone needs someone like Jötnar to give them a little push every now and then, Haa-Rei more so than others.



Previously - Cirinwe managed to find Haa-Rei and Jötnar, with the help of Sjöfn and Olorin. While Olorin remained at Luther Broad's the others made their way to the Imperial Legion training grounds so Jötnar and Haa-Rei could spar with each other. Before they got started, Jötnar gave Haa-Rei some helpful advice regarding Cirinwe...

Chapter 49



“Ow.� I said flatly, lying on the dusty floor of the training area. What Jötnar lacked in finesse, he more than made up for in strength. He’d been batting me about like an old doll for a while now, and showing me just how out of practice I was.

“Heh, sorry. I got a bit carried away there.� the Nord laughed, lending me a hand as I clambered to my feet. “you should take a break, let Sjöfn take over.�

“What? Oh no I won’t. You almost took my head off last time.� Sjöfn shook her head vigorously, as if testing that it was indeed still attached.

“Um…� interrupted Cirinwe, one delicate hand raised in the air, “I’d like to try it, if you wouldn’t mind teaching me.�

Silence descended over the yard as myself and the two Nords stared at the Altmer, mouths hanging open in surprise. It was Jötnar who recovered first:

“Well alright! I’m not sure you’re dressed for it though.� he indicated Cirinwe’s mages robes which were indeed more suited to quiet study than swordplay.

“Well I can help you with that.� Sjöfn said, taking Cirinwe’s hand and leading her toward a side door.

After they’d gone I slowly made my way over to the seating area. I was sore all over, but it had been an interesting experience. When Cirinwe returned I almost fell off my newly acquired seat.

She was dressed in the light leather armour that is used by Legion recruits. A padded leather cuirass to protect the torso, with padded leather gauntlets covering the hands, wrists, forearms, and elbows. The upper arms were bare to prevent overheating, and I noticed that her left shoulder shared the burn scars on her face. A skirt of leather pteruges protected her waist, as well as allowing for easy movement, and leather boots with a rigid shin guard protected her lower legs.

“I look ridiculous.� Cirinwe muttered, fidgeting with a gauntlet and blushing fiercely.

Jötnar let out a low whistle, while Sjöfn glared at me so sharply that I thought she’d bore a hole through my armour. I should stop staring and say something.

“Not at all. You look great.� I could barely get my words out, but it was true. Even with the extra padding on the armour it was obvious that Cirinwe was beautifully slender, and the golden skin of her long arms and legs seemed to absorb the bright afternoon sun. The warrior look suited her perfectly.

“See?� Sjöfn nudged Cirinwe, and allowed a smug smile to play across her lips. She was obviously proud of her transformation efforts, and came to sit beside me while Jötnar and Cirinwe decided on a weapon.

“She looks amazing.� I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else, watching the Altmer testing the weight of several different weapons.

“You sound surprised.� smiled the redheaded Nord beside me.

“Well it’s just so different from her usual robes…I-I mean it’s not like I don’t…�

“I know,� Sjöfn laughed, “I’m just teasing you.�

I frowned heavily, causing more laughter, and turned my attention back to Cirinwe. She’d chosen a two-handed sword, similar to Jötnar’s, and was being taught several different methods of holding and swinging it. The weapon suited her as well as the armour, its long blade complementing her own height. Even the shortest Altmer would have quite a long reach with such a weapon, and Cirinwe was the tallest I’d ever met. She had a serious look on her face, focusing on every word that Jötnar spoke. I had no doubts about his abilities as a tutor – his promotion in the Legion was evidence enough of that.

After the basic stances were covered, the pair moved onto some swordplay. Jötnar attacked slowly to allow Cirinwe to get a feel for blocking and countering. He sped up his attacks gradually, and once she’d calmed down Cirinwe was able to match his speed – albeit still rather clumsily.

The training continued for a couple more hours, until Sjöfn called an end to it. The sun was hanging low in the sky by that point - we’d been in the yard for most of the day and we were all tired and hungry. After Cirinwe changed back into her robes the four of us returned to the Boarding House, with Jötnar continuing his verbal lesson on the best way to fight someone with a shield.

“Nice job today, you’re a natural.� Jötnar said as we entered Luther Broad’s.

“Oh, well thank you.� blushed Cirinwe.

“I’m serious! You picked it up real quick. If you keep practicing like that you could be quite the warrior.� I’d never seen Jötnar look serious about anything before, but I nodded in agreement when Cirinwe turned to me.

“He’s right. It took me ages to get the hang of all that stuff when I was a recruit. You looked like you were enjoying it too.� If someone had told me at the start of the day that Cirinwe had a knack for swordplay I’d have found it hilarious, yet here we were.

“Well...it was fun…I’ll think about it.� she nodded.

The Boarding House was more or less the same as we’d left it. Olorin was still seated at the same table, and looked almost as much a part of the room as the furnishings.

“Aah the smell of youth.� the old Altmer smiled as we sat down.

“That’s just him.� grimaced Sjöfn, looking pointedly at her brother.

“That, dear sister, is the scent of hard work. Breathe it in.� Jötnar flexed his muscles, but eventually relented to his sister and moped away to bathe.

“Maybe I should find a bath too.� pondered Cirinwe. As far as I could tell she smelled perfectly wonderful, but I wasn’t sure how appropriate it would be to say so.

“You can use the one in my room. Come on.� offered Sjöfn, once again taking the Altmer’s hand and leading her away.

I turned to speak to Olorin, but the aged Altmer had already gone back to sleep. I wondered if I should go for a bath too, but ultimately decided to stay in my seat by the fire. Since Argonians don’t sweat I smelled as fresh as usual, and I knew that I’d almost certainly fall asleep in the tub.

Before long the others returned, smelling of soap. Cirinwe had borrowed a pair of dark brown breeches and a light blue shirt from Sjöfn, and sat down beside me to dry her long hair by the fire.

“Thank you for today.� she said quietly, fiddling with a hairbrush.

“Oh, well it was Jötnar’s idea to train together. I just tagged along with him.� I sipped carefully at the tea I’d ordered, steam tickling my nose.

“Not that. I meant about what you said…that you thought I looked good. I was quite nervous, so thank you.� she turned away, but the tips of her ears showed that she was blushing a little.

“Oh, that. Well…I just said what I was thinking. I-it suited you.� my words were all of a jumble, which seemed to be an increasingly common occurrence when talking to Cirinwe.

The Altmer turned to me and smiled, and now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I took a swig of tea and winced as I lightly scolded my mouth. Two distinct tones of Nordic laughter erupted from the other side of the table, and I suddenly became aware that Sjöfn and Jötnar had been listening the entire time. Maybe I should have gone to sleep in the bath after all.

Sorry but you can't toss "pteruges" nonchalantly into the story, and then put scolded when you meant scalded.

I'll be interested in what Ciri's sudden interest in two-handed means.

I grinned all the way through this!

What a delight that you are sharing Ciri’s transition to the way of the blade with us. She does indeed seem to have the aptitude and long arms for it. It also ties in beautifully to what we have seen of her progress in ESO.

The awkward flirting between Haa-Rei and Ciri before and after bath time was great fun as well. Maybe, with the Nordic coaching of Jötnar and Sjöfn, the lizard and high elf odd couple may yet find their path to each other.

ghastley -

Acadian - Hopefully Ciri is starting to materialise as a proper character now, rather than a shiny elf-shaped blob. I'm surprised at how quickly she's become such a big part of it all.



Previously - In a surprising turn of events, Cirinwe asked Jötnar to teach her how to use a sword. As it turns out, she has a natural talent for it, and the gang encouraged her to pursue this new vocation...

Chapter 50



“Ok, we’ll see you later then.� Shouted Jötnar as he and Cirinwe departed the Boarding House.

They were going to an armourers to find Cirinwe some equipment, as she had decided to stick with her swordsmership for the time being. She’d stayed up late the previous night, thinking hard about the direction she wanted to go in. I was pleased to see that she had made a decision, and especially pleased that she was happy with it.

Since I knew very little about armour, I remained at the boarding house with a stack of books that Cirinwe had borrowed from the University library. I’d already read through any that contained even a mention of werewolves, but it seemed that people are much more interesting in killing lycanthropes than they are in helping them. I now had a wide range of knowledge should I ever need to fight myself, but it really wasn’t useful to my current predicament.

The book that now held my interest was a reference text on enchantments. It was a thick tome which apparently featured every enchantment that had ever been invented, with illustrations and descriptions (lengthy, written by mages) to match. I was trying to figure out the enchantment on the old ring that I’d been given after helping the fisherman by Lake Rumare.

The ring was a plain gold band, though it had once had some sort of engraving around the outer edge which had long since faded.

The first enchantment rune was clearly visible, and glowed very, very softly. A human in a running pose, with a small ‘II’ above it. This told me that the secondary enchantment on the ring would slightly increase the wearer’s athletic ability – perfect for a warrior such as Cirinwe or Jötnar.

For a while I ran my fingers over the ring, and inspected every tiny detail for signs of the primary rune, but to no avail. I reached out with one hand to find my cup of tea, though I was concentrating more on the tome in front of me. When my hand found the cup, and before I could react, there was a thud and tea began spilling all over the table.

“Ah, caoc!� I swore, frantically grabbing all the books and lifting them to safety. The tea pooled around the ring, and that’s when I saw it.

“Well I’ll be a wamasu’s wet nurse…�

It hadn’t been that the rune was hard to find – it had been hidden. As soon as the tea touched the ring, the faded markings on the band began to glow a soft blue/green colour, revealing a beautifully detailed engraving of waves and fish which almost looked as if they were moving. I had heard of enchantments like this before, hidden until the item came into contact with fire, water, blood, or any other substance of natural energy. I hadn’t expected to find such an enchantment on a ring that still smelled faintly of slaughterfish.

After mopping up the tea I examined the ring again. Next to the athletic rune was now a symbol consisting of a circle with waves and bubbles inside it. According to the reference tome, this was an enchantment of water breathing. I couldn’t help but laugh when I read it – of all the enchantments for an Argonian to have…

I quickly decided what I wanted to do with the ring, though I was nervous to do so lest my intentions be mistaken. I had no more time to think however, as the warrior duo returned.

“How did it go?� I asked, noticing that Cirinwe was just as un-armoured as she had been when I’d seen her last.

“We found some, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow.� I could see that Cirinwe was disappointed, but a little excited. No doubt she had been looking forward to getting some shiny new armour as soon as possible.

“More importantly,� Jötnar turned to me, “I’ve got a job for the guild down in Leyawiin. Care to join me?�

“What, now?� I asked.

“Well I’m going now, but you and Cirinwe can catch up after she gets her gear.� he didn’t wait for a reply, simply clapping me on the shoulder as he made his way upstairs.

“So…we’re going?� Cirinwe asked once the Nord had departed, sounding rather hopeful.

“It would appear so. If we’re wanting to catch up to Jötnar we should just hop on a boat down to Bravil.� The journey would be much shorter that way, and I still had business in Bravil anyway.

“You’re from Leyawiin, right? I look forward to seeing it.�

“Is that why you’re so excited?� I wondered out loud.

“Well…a little. Also….� she trailed off, and I thought that was the end of it until she spoke again quietly, “the city is a little boring. It’ll be nice to get out and about with you again.� she looked a little embarrassed to admit it, but a faint smile played across her lips as she departed for her room to bathe.

I stood there dumbly for a few minutes before I gathered the books and ring and headed to my room. It hadn’t been that long since I’d last seen Leyawiin, but I echoed Cirinwe’s sentiment about getting back out into the wilderness. It had been far too long since I’d shot anything or had something try and kill me – I had a feeling that this trip would introduce plenty of both opportunities.

Ahh! The magic of tea!

Your Englishness is showing Haa-Rei.

Hee! One of the nice things about having an elven character is license to use words like ‘swordsmership’.

“Well I’ll be a wamasu’s wet nurse…�

I enjoyed your description and logic of how Haa-Rei discovered the enchantments on the fisherman’s ring.

There is no doubt who he intends to give it to. If he needs any encouragement in that direction, he but needs to listen to Ciri’s words and read her manner around him. I love the delicate dance between the two of them and hope that Scales and Scars can find a future together.

ghastley - I've long thought that tea-craft should have its own school of magic.

Acadian - Scales and Scars has a good ring to it (no pun intended). They're getting there, gradually.



Previously - With some time to himself, Haa-Rei investigated the mysterious fisherman's ring and discovered a hidden enchantment. He and Cirinwe then agree to journey to Leyawiin, to meet up with Jötnar while he has business there...

Chapter 51



It was a warm day, though the cool air over Lake Rumare made sure that the ferry ride to Bravil wasn’t uncomfortable. Other than that I couldn’t tell you anything else about that morning, since I spent the entire boat ride with my eyes fixed firmly on my travelling companion.

We’d been to pick up Cirinwe’s armour from the smith, and she’d wasted no time in wearing it. The cuirass was split into two parts – the first was a chainmail vest which covered the lower torso, while a solid plate covered the upper torso. The shoulders were protected by layered strips of heavy leather, with one shoulder also featuring a heavy pauldron of overlapping metal strips. This overlapping metal design was repeated on the forearms, thighs and shins. The waist, hands, legs, and feet were all protected by more dark, heavy leather. The metal was a warm gold colour, a shade lighter than Dwemer metal, and adorned with intricate vine motifs. The whole ensemble gave Cirinwe protection to vital areas, while still allowing a good deal of movement and flexibility. There was also the telltale feel of magic about it, which suggested that at least one piece was enchanted. All in all, the armour (and the Mer) was absolutely gorgeous.

After collecting the gear we’d made it just in time to catch the not-quite-midday ferry that headed south. The ferry was large enough to comfortably fit perhaps a dozen passengers in the designated passenger area, though the large cargo area could accommodate a lot more people if needed.

“You’re staring,� Cirinwe said suddenly, “and fidgeting.�

“Ah, sorry.� I was indeed staring, though I hadn’t realised that I was fidgeting, and looked down to see that I had been playing with the fisherman’s ring.

“Is that the ring?� my companion asked.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I…er…found out what enchantments it has.�

“Oh?�

“Well the secondary enchantment is athletics, and the primary is…water breathing.� I smiled again, still finding it amusing. Cirinwe began laughing too.

“I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised, but it would have been helpful to have it before he asked someone to go and wrestle slaughterfish. I could have helped.� she echoed the thoughts that had popped into my head when I’d first discovered the enchantment.

“You can help next time. Here.� I held out the ring, clicking my tongue subconsciously as a sign that I was more than a little embarrassed.

Cirinwe looked at me for a long moment, and I thought she was going to say something. Finally she settled on a simple “thank you� and smiled brightly. She slid the ring onto a slender finger – a perfect fit. I almost hoped that this boat ride would last forever.

Eventually though the boat drifted in to dock at Bravil. Dock workers began exchanging cargo at lightning speed, and it was a struggle to get through the throng of crates, barrels, and muscles.

Once on the other side, we found a bench and sat down to plan our trip. Moving alone, Jötnar would make good time to Leyawiin, and we were to meet him there when we could. Before that, though, we were going to take a little detour, to fulfil a promise I had made when I had last been in Bravil.

“So this is payment for your bow?� asked Cirinwe once we’d left town. I had told her the story of how I came into possession of my Hist wood bow, which was why we were currently heading towards the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll.

“Yes. I have to clear out the ruin, and return to the bowyer. It shouldn’t take long.� I wasn’t sure what to expect though. All I knew was that the ruin was ‘overrun by monsters’, which was a little too vague for my liking, but it was something I’d gradually grown used to as an adventurer.

The ruin lay a short distance from the walls of Bravil. It was such a short distance, in fact, that I couldn’t see any reason for the town guards to ignore it. The campsite at the entrance to the ruin suggested that someone was keeping an eye on it, though there was no sign of recent activity. The townsfolk were lucky that whatever creatures lurked within the ruin had decided to stay away from town.

“Are you ready?� I asked Cirinwe, who adjusted the straps on her gauntlets and nodded. Even if her hands hadn’t been shaking, it was clear that she was nervous. This would be her first taste of actual combat, but I had faith in her strength and Jötnar’s training.

We carefully slipped in through the open door and made our way inside. The entrance chamber was small, and branched off in three different directions. I lifted my snout into the air and breathed in all of the different scents. The dusty, cold scent that seems to permeate every Ayleid ruin was strong, but I could detect two other distinct scents – imps and a troll. The former wouldn’t be a problem, but the latter…

“I can deal with the troll. I think.� Cirinwe replied once I’d given my report. She’d readied her weapon, a surprisingly brutal looking axe with a wooden haft and a single broad blade, sharpened to a wicked edge. A faint golden glow surrounded her hands, no doubt she had several spells ready and waiting.

“We’ll deal with it together. I’ll lead, we’ll move slowly and quietly.� I set off at a half crouch, and heard Cirinwe fall in behind me. Her armour made very little noise, and I guessed that it had some form of muffling enchantment.

We moved so quietly that the first imp we met went down without raising the alarm, its frail body falling prey to my arrow. Three more imps went down in a similar fashion, and I almost got a fourth, but my arrow went a little wide and succeeded only in tearing the creature’s wing.

The imp let out a shriek, but it was cut short by a spear of golden light punching through its chest. I turned and nodded my thanks to Cirinwe, and we both immediately froze as a bestial roar echoed through the hallway.

“I think the troll knows we’re here.� Cirinwe said, doing her best to avoid looking too terrified.

“So it would seem. Well, best not keep it waiting.� I turned toward the source of the sound, and together we headed deeper into the ruin.

At least it wouldn’t be boring.

“I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised, but it would have been helpful to have it before he asked someone to go and wrestle slaughterfish. I could have helped.� she echoed the thoughts that had popped into my head when I’d first discovered the enchantment.’ - - Heh, I believe this thought has popped into the heads of everyone who has ever done that quest.

Smitten. Yup. Haa-Rei is definitely smitten.

’The imp let out a shriek, but it was cut short by a spear of golden light punching through its chest.’ - - WooHoo! I know what that spear of golden light is!

I love how you take this story wherever it needs to go, from Oblivion to ESO and back.

I was laughing out loud at Haa-Rei and Jötnar's exchange at the boarding house before their sparring match. I'm enjoying the warming relationship between Haa-Rei and Cirinwe very much. I love how Ciri's growth into weapons and armor felt perfectly natural. Seeing her through Haa-Rei's eyes is a delight.

Woo, a tall, golden womer wielding spears of pure light, yay for Ciri!:D

I do too, but it can get very confusing when it's things from a game I've never played. At least there's a consistent time-line, and we're not jumping back and forth a couple of centuries at a time. I do like the way the other provinces aren't "out of bounds" and things can be rare imports. There are some good mods that do that, so it's not unfamiliar, either.

Acadian - Hopefully Templar Ciri fits doesn't seem too out of place in Oblivion with her fancy new magicks.

Grits - Yay for Templars! Divine magic and heavy armour are two things no girl should be without.

ghastley - I hope it doesn't get too confusing. Sometimes I even forget what stuff comes from which game.



Previously - After getting Cirinwe equipped for her role as a swordsmer, she and Haa-Rei set off for Bravil. Once there, the duo decided to clear the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll. After a successful start, the two adventurers hear a troll from deeper in the ruin and move to investigate...

Chapter 52



The troll was standing off to one side in a large, open chamber. It looked as if it had once shared this chamber with more imps, but their discoloured corpses now lay slumped on the ground in the middle of the room, . I could smell the faintest hint of some sort of poison, no doubt the work of some kind of Ayleid trap.

The troll itself was pretty standard as trolls go. A large, hunched mass of stinking fur which breathed heavily and growled to itself. At the end of each long arm was a set of gore-encrusted claws. I could see the fatty coating on its fur glinting in the pale Ayleid lights as the creature paced back and forth.

Cirinwe and I wasted no time in getting to work, beginning our assault with a salvo of magic and arrows. Of the three arrows that I fired in quick succession, only one actually hit home - the other two failing to penetrate the creatures greasy hide.

Cirinwe’s spells had a much more significant effect. Two lazy orbs of golden light floated over to the creature and exploded on impact, showering the troll with golden flames that seemed to catch almost immediately on the flammable fat. The creature howled but continued its awkward advance, lolling towards us in that shambling half-run that trolls seem to favour. Its three black eyes were completely focused on Cirinwe, and I did my best to assure myself that she would be fine.

Of course I needn’t have worried. Cirinwe moved so as to place the troll between us, allowing me to fire more arrows into the creature’s back while it was busy flailing its arms at her. Despite her armour, Cirinwe was able to gracefully weave around the creature’s attacks, lashing out every so often with her axe or a spell.

An arrow to the back of the neck stunned the troll for the briefest of moments, and Cirinwe seized the opportunity, burying her axe in the monster’s skull with a dull crunch. The troll crashed to the ground, axe still in place, and lay still. The magical flames vanished with a gesture from Cirinwe, and I moved over to make sure she was unharmed.

“Are you alright?� I asked, seeing that she hadn’t even been scratched. What a relief.

“I’m fine,� She breathed heavily, clearly exhausted, “I’ve never killed anything like that before.� She smiled, proud of herself, and retrieved her axe.

“We’ve still got more to go.� I pointed to the only passage that we were yet to explore.

On further investigation it seemed that this passage lead to a large door, around which lay more dead imps, their small bodies had been crushed by some sort of blunt weapon. Together, Cirinwe and I heaved the door open, greeted by a rush of thick, musky air.

“What is that smell?� Cirinwe gagged, clamping a hand over her nose and mouth.

“That’s the smell of a minotaur.� I grinned, feeling excitement welling upon inside me.

We moved slowly and cautiously. Beyond the door lay a long corridor, with several small alcoves on either side. At the end lay another room, which would no doubt house our bovine friend. I brought my storm atronach spell to the front of my mind, just in case, and nocked an arrow. If the minotaur saw us and charged in the corridor, things could get very messy very quickly.

Fortunately the beast waited until we entered the far room before attacking. The spines on my head suddenly flashed me a warning and I ducked just in time to avoid the warhammer that had been aimed at my skull. The minotaur had been waiting by the door.

A burst of golden light from Cirinwe struck the minotaur in the middle of its broad chest, and it turned to face this new opponent, allowing me the time to open some distance between us. Although I didn’t doubt her bravery and natural talent, a minotaur could prove a little too dangerous to Cirinwe, at least alone. I raised my hand and called forth Thiazzi the storm atronach, who thundered into existence and turned his stony face to me for instruction.

“Help Cirinwe!� I said loudly, pointing to the elf in question.

Thiazzi grumbled his acknowledgement and stomped forwards, punching the minotaur’s hammer out of its hands with a large, stone fist. The minotaur roared and charged Thiazzi, head down so as to make good use of its long horns.

The storm atronach loosened the stones of its body just before the impact, and tightened them again to catch the charging horns and trap the minotaur. Cirinwe brought her axe down hard on the creature's exposed next, killing it instantly.

Thiazzi relinquished his grip on the now-dead minotaur and turned to me, awaiting more instructions.

“Thank you, my friend. That will be all for now.� I raised my hand again and released the spell.

“Thank you!� Cirinwe called to the fading atronach, who made a quiet rumbling noise before vanishing back to Oblivion.

I scanned the room, a dead end. I also couldn't smell or hear any other signs of life. We’d done it.

“Looks like that’s everything.� I smiled at Cirinwe, and plopped myself down on the cold, white stone floor to rest. I wasn't tired at all, but Cirinwe looked about ready to collapse. After a moment the elf joined me, sitting so we were back to back.

“That was…amazing!� Cirinwe said after a few moments, her soft voice echoing in around the stony chamber. She was breathing heavily, and I could feel the heat from her body even through her armour. She was shaking slightly, no doubt the adrenaline from her first taste of combat.

“You were amazing. One would think you’d been hunting monsters all your life!� I was truly impressed by her ability after such a small amount of training.

“Thank you,� She laughed lightly, “we make quite a team.� even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was smiling.

“That we do,� I smiled too.

That we do.

Regarding evolving skills, gear and abiity, I think you and I have a similar perspective: Games come and go but characters are forever. That is not necessarily a better perspective, but those of us who do see things that way tend to evolve and adapt a character rather than starting a new character for a new game environment. It does bring up the challenge that you and I face to ensure we fully explain what our characters are doing/using when we intentionally view things from a TES-wide view rather than anchoring to one game.

A wonderful episode! Not only was the combat exciting and richly described, but the teamwork and growing closeness between Scales and Scars continued to blossom. And I loved seeing a visit from Thiazzi again!

Well done!

Acadian - Well said! Haa-Rei is Haa-Rei, regardless of where (or when) in Tamriel he may be. It's simply my job to make sure that it all gets pulled together nicely.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe finished clearing the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll, fighting a troll and a fearsome minotaur in the process. With that complete, they return to Bravil...

Chapter 53



I breathed in deeply, tasting the fresh air of the Niben Bay. After spending time in a cold ruin I always need to get myself warmed up and re-energised.

Not only had we cleared the ruin, we’d managed to take down a troll and a minotaur in the process. I’d removed the large horns of the minotaur and given one to Cirinwe, which she was utterly fascinated by. Minotaurs were indeed impressive, and a worthy encounter for even veteran adventurers.

“Back to Bravil?� Cirinwe suggested, stowing her minotaur horn in her pack.

“Yes, the bowyer is on the far end of town.� I nodded toward the town and together we made our way back. Cirinwe looked tired, as expected, but otherwise unharmed.


“The Archer's Paradox. Because a perfect arrow flies for-oh!� Daenlin’s speech had begun before we’d even entered the shop, and his already bright smile seemed to broaden even more once he recognised me.

“Hello Daenlin.� I nodded as I approached the counter.

“Welcome back, Haa-Rei, and welcome to your companion too.� the old Bosmer had to crane his neck to look up at Cirinwe, who must have been at least twice his height.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.� The Altmer bowed.

“Am I to assume that you two have just returned from an Ayleid adventure?� he asked with a raised eyebrow. A glint of excitement passed over the bowyer’s eyes, and I felt a little guilty for leaving the task for so long before completing it.

“Indeed we have, as I promised.� I confirmed.

“Well come on through here and have a seat. I can’t expect you to tell a riveting story of adventure and romance while you’re standing in the shop without a cup of tea in your hands.� he ushered us through to a small adjoining room, which was simply furnished but quite cosy. Cirinwe had to duck slightly to get through the door without hitting her head.

Once we had tea and a comfortable seat, I properly introduced Cirinwe and gave Daenlin our account of the Clearing of Anutwyll. He was an excellent listener – content to absorb the story in silence, and asking several concise questions at the end regarding the various creatures inside.

“Now there’s a worthy trophy!� The old mer exclaimed when Cirinwe showed him one of the minotaur’s horns.

“Thank you, though I see you are no stranger to hunting either.� she nodded at the various animal trophies dotted around the small room, including some pelts which I didn’t even recognise.

“In my youth, of course. These days I’m only quick enough to take a deer every now and then, but that’s the point of trophies – to remind us of great hunts and honour worthy foes.� He handed the horn back to Cirinwe and poured some more tea.

We stayed a little while longer at Daenlin’s, the two elves engaging in small talk while I looked at the various trophies the old mer had collected, occasionally asking about the pieces I didn’t recognise. As with many Bosmer, his stature was certainly in no way reflective of his courage and skill.

When we finally left some hours later, it was dark outside.

“Time flies like an arrow, my boy,� Daenlin said, patting me on the shoulder, “I hope you’ll both visit again.�

“Of course.� Cirinwe and I said in unison.

“May all your hunts be swift, safe, and successful.� the old mer waved as we departed.

Bravil at night has a very different feel to it than during the day. The darkness seems to cling to the alleyways and the ramshackle houses are alive with creeping shadows and suspicious figures. Growing up in Leyawiin I had heard tales of skooma dealers, thieves, and various other unlawful sorts making Bravil their home.

I’d been heading towards the Mages Guild, assuming that Cirinwe would be keen to get some rest. As usual though, my companion surprised me.

“Haa-Rei.� she began.

“Cirinwe.� I replied.

“Could we…not sleep at the guild?�

“Of course. What’s wrong with the guild?� I was curious. Free room and board in a warm guild hall was certainly difficult to pass up.

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just…we’re adventurers, right? Sleeping under the stars is what adventurers do.�

She certainly was an adventurer now. Kitted out in full heavy armour, fresh from hunting down a fearsome minotaur and clearing an ancient ruin.

“Fair enough,� I shrugged, “There are plenty of good camping spots near the ruin, and we know that the area is safe.�

And so, we headed back out towards Anutwyll. The large, flat white stones around the ruin make perfect camping spots. While I got a fire going, Cirinwe made herself some food – a selection of leaves and berries with a drizzle of olive oil. Once she had eaten we sat in silence, drinking tea and watching the stars glitter above us. I had all my senses on the alert for danger, as usual, but I felt much more relaxed. I knew that if anything should approach, Cirinwe and I would be more than able to defend ourselves.

“Haa-Rei…� Cirinwe said again after a while.

“Cirinwe.� I replied.

“I want to tell you.� she paused after that, and required a prompt before continuing.

“Tell me…�

“About myself. About why I left home. About everything. I…trust you.� Her face flushed with colour, but she looked determined.

“If you’re sure, then I would be honoured to listen to your story.� I bowed my head slightly and poured us both some more tea.

“Right. Yes.� Cirinwe cleared her throat and fidgeted around a little to get more comfortable.

Then her story began.

What a wonderful surprise to spend an afternoon drinking tea with Buffy’s godfather, Daenlin!

’As with many Bosmer, his stature was certainly in no way reflective of his courage and skill.’ - -

I love that Cirinwe wanted to sleep under the stars – and understand it perfectly. I see that she is finally comfortable enough with Haa-Rei to share her story.

What a joy Haa-Rei’s story continues to be!

Acadian - Indeed, we are finally learning more about our Altmer friend.



Previously - Haa-Rei and Cirinwe met with Daenlin the Bowyer, and spent a while chatting over tea about the Bosmer's many adventures. Afterwards, Cirinwe decided that the two adventurers would sleep under the stars, but not before she told Haa-Rei her story...

Chapter 54



“Thank you, my lord.� said Ailinwe, bowing and exiting the room.

“Well?� whispered Cirinwe excitedly. Ailinwe shook her head.

“He won’t give me the loan. He…reminded me that baking is not a proper profession for someone of our social standing.�

Cirinwe hugged her sister tightly. All Ali wanted to do was open a bakery, and she was certainly talented enough. Once Cirinwe graduated at the academy, they would surely have enough money for it between the two of them.

“Cirinwe.� a stern voice called from the room, causing Cirinwe’s body to stiffen. She released her sister and entered the chamber where her father was waiting.

“Father.� she said flatly, standing up straight.

She hated her father. He was a cold, uncaring man. Shorter than Cirinwe and her sister, with thin golden hair swept back to resemble the prow of a ship. He peered at her from behind the grimace which seemed to be a permanent feature on his face. The walls of his study were lined with more books than Cirinwe could count, many with Ayleid text on their covers despite the fact that Father couldn’t read it. Cirinwe’s mother, also a stern figure, sat to one side like an owl watching for mice.

“Do not concern yourself with your sister, you have more important things to think about.� Father said sharply.

“Yes father.� Cirinwe replied dutifully. She had long since given up on talking back to him, yet he stilled eyed her suspiciously for any sign of sarcasm or, Aetherius forbid, defiance.

“I need not remind you,� Father began, “that you carry the future of this house upon your shoulders. Unlike your sister, you will not fail me.� he waved his hand, dismissing her. Cirinwe gritted her teeth and bowed to each parent in turn before exiting.

Cirinwe almost wanted to fail, just to annoy him. She knew she would not, of course, as she was one of the most gifted mages at the academy. She had spent months planning and preparing this particular spell, and was more than confident that she’d perfected it.

Graduating from the academy almost guaranteed a student with a good position at court, or on a mage council somewhere. Of course her parents were more concerned with the status of the family name, and the marriage offers that would no doubt be made by other families hoping to capitalize on her own success. Ailinwe, who had no magical talent, was seen as a disappointment by their parents, but as long as Cirinwe continued to do well, Ailinwe was allowed to do as she pleased.

“Have you thought any more about what I said?� Ailinwe asked later that night. Their chambers were at the far end of the family’s large manor, which afforded them plenty of privacy.

“About leaving? I’m…not sure.� Cirinwe replied. Her sister had previously talked about leaving home, and Cirinwe was torn between a desire to get away from their parents, and a fear of them. She didn’t think it likely that they would let their best asset simply walk off into the sunset.

“We’d go far away. Morrowind, perhaps, or High Rock.�

“We have no money of our own.� Cirinwe reminded her sister.

“We could get jobs. I’m a good cook, and you’re one of the most powerful mages at the academy. We’d be fine.� Ailinwe was determined, and also a little desperate. Cirinwe could well understand, but she was still afraid. They’d never left Auridon before, and the world seemed like such a large place that it would be too easy for someone to get lost.

Cirinwe didn’t reply, and after a few minutes of silence Ailinwe went to bed, clearly disappointed. After tomorrow’s examination, Cirinwe would be in a better position from which she could help her sister. Still, that night her mind kept looping back to that conversation and sleep did not come easily.


Cirinwe wasn’t actually sure where the academy was. It was definitely somewhere on Auridon, but all staff and students accessed the grounds via teleportation. It was built in the traditional Altmer style, with pale stones and tall, shining towers of crystal. The whole area hummed with magic thanks to a large Ayleid well beneath the main building, which allowed mages to cast spells as they pleased. Even people like Cirinwe, born under the sign of the Atronach, could replenish their magicka here.

The most impressive part of the structure was the Grand Chamber. As the name suggests, it was a vast hall of white stones with elaborate statues and carvings lining the walls. At regular intervals on the floor were circular rings of stones embedded with runes, and nearby viewing platforms from which spectators could judge the students. It was in such a rune circle that Cirinwe soon found herself. Plenty of students were gathered in the hall, and Cirinwe could feel the eyes of the examiners upon her as she tried to calm herself down.

“The candidate for Destruction Mastery – Cirinwe.� A shrill voice announced over the crowd, causing everyone to lower their voices. It wasn’t just at home that expectations were high.

Having mastered all of the destruction spells that could be taught to her, Cirinwe had had to invent some of her own. This latest spell, which she had hubristically named ‘Rising Phoenix’, would be her most powerful spell yet, and likely use up her entire magicka pool even after two fortifying potions. It would also guarantee top marks on the assessment, which was what mattered.

It was a complicated spell, with verbal cues in Ayleidoon and several different gestures. The crowd was mesmerised by Cirinwe’s movements, her flawless golden skin reflecting the flickering lights as embers danced across her slender fingers. She could feel all of her magicka being channelled into the spell as she finished casting. From her outstretched hands rose a large ball of flame, which unfurled itself into the shape of a massive bird and took flight over her head, circling the rune stones on burning wings. It was beautiful.

As with the previous evening, the conversation with Ailinwe rose unbidden to the front of Cirinwe’s mind. She wanted to go with Ali, to run away, to be happy and free like the bird overhead, rising higher and higher towards the ceiling.

A gasp from the crowd snapped her attention back to the present, and then everything went wrong.

"hubristically" may be telegraphing a bit too much, but it's close to the cliffhanger, so maybe not.

Did you already tell us she's an Atronach? I don't remember, so it can't have played any major role so far.

And I suppose Anvil is as close to Alinor as you can get in Cyrodiil, so they didn't go any farther away from home than necessary.

It is fascinating to go into Cirinwe’s past and begin to discover some of the things that have forged her. You impart a wonderfully exotic feel to the Altmeri rather harsh culture.

A beautiful description of her spell as she cast it. . . into a cliffhanger! Can’t wait to find out what happened/went wrong.

And forgot to mention. Cirinwe's much better at naming spells than Delphine Jend.

ghastley - heh, it was either that or "really good and hot flame spell."

Acadian - I'm not sure why, but I've always seen Altmer as more formal and sharp than other races. Maybe they just seem that way when compared to, say, Nords.



Previously - We began the tale of Cirinwe's past, as she prepared for a final exam at a magical academy with a particularly powerful spell...

Chapter 55



It’s dark, thought Cirinwe. Though after a few moments she began to realise that her eyes were actually covered. She tried to remove whatever was covering them, but found that her limbs wouldn’t respond, as if she were dreaming. Her throat was dry and sore as if she’d be shouting at the top of her voice, and when she tried to speak she couldn’t make anything more than a raspy squeak come out. She thought she could hear someone, but they sounded dull and muffled.

With nothing else to do, Cirinwe tried to think. Her head felt thick and stuffy, but she willed herself to try and remember what had happened.

She’d been casting a spell, the spell, but lost concentration. Then…fire, and pain. She’d used all of her magic to cast the spell, which left none to correct it when it went wrong. Luckily her atronach ability seemed to have absorbed much of it. Well, she assumed that’s what had happened. Perhaps it hadn’t. Perhaps she had died. If so, she thought, the afterlife leaves much to be desired.

She heard the voice again, and tried to speak to it with much the same result as before.

She could feel something touching her lips, and then a cool liquid began to pour into her mouth. It was so refreshing that Cirinwe wanted to cry, but instead she continued to drink until there was nothing left. When she tried to speak again, her voice came out as a croak, but it was at least audible.

“What…is happening?� She managed. Even her own voice sounded muffled, so she decided that something must be wrong with her ears.

There was no reply, but she could feel someone touching her cheek with cool, slender hands. The hands began fidgeting with the side of Cirinwe’s head, before she realised that they were removing whatever had been covering her eyes. Her vision began to return, slowly, and only in one eye.

She was in her bedroom, lying on her bed, and Ailinwe was sitting beside her. Cirinwe blinked a few times until everything stopped being blurry.

“Ali?� She asked, trying ineffectively to sit up. Her sister’s eyes were red and puffy from crying.

“Oh thank goodness you’re awake.� Ailinwe sobbed, hugging Cirinwe tightly.

“Ali, what happened? What’s wrong with me?� Cirinwe felt a little frightened.

“Something went wrong with your spell, you’ve been very badly burned. The academy healers did their best, but it might take some time to recover.� Ailinwe cleared her throat and helped Cirinwe into a sitting position, holding a cup of water to Cirinwe's lips.

“…but I don’t feel injured." Cirinwe said between sips. "Though I can’t hear you very well, and only one eye is working.�

“You’ve been given a light paralysis potion, to help you sleep and ease the pain. As for your eyes and ears, you’re covered in bandages. Here, let’s get some of them off.� Ailinwe leaned over and began to remove bandages from Cirinwe’s head and torso, revealing the injuries underneath. Cirinwe began to cry.

Her skin, once so smooth and flawless, was now a ruined mess of scars and blisters. The entire left side of her torso had been burned, as well as both wrists, hands, and the left side of her face. Ailinwe used her sleeve to dry Cirinwe’s eyes and gently applied a cooling ointment to the burned areas.

“Once the potion wears off, it will hurt a lot. You’ll be able to move though, and this cream should help.�

“Thank you.� Cirinwe said. It didn’t seem like there were any words that could accurately express how she was feeling. Then she remembered something. “Ali…about what you were saying before…about leaving.�

“Yes?�

“I want to. We should.� Cirinwe had made her decision. No doubt setting oneself on fire was a certain failure of the academy exam. All she had left in life was her sister, and if Ali wanted to leave, Cirinwe would follow.

“Good. Thanks Ciri,� Ali smiled widely, and Cirinwe wondered when she had last seen such a happy expression on her sister’s face. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re well enough.�

“We’ll leave as soon as I can walk.� Cirinwe decided. She thought her sister was about to disagree, but decided against it.

Ailinwe stayed by Cirinwe’s bedside all night and all through the next day. The only other visitors were the occasional maid who came to deliver food and stare in horror at her mistress’s injuries. Cirinwe’s parents remained in their study.

It was on the second night that the potion finally wore off, and Cirinwe took several wobbly steps around the room. Her legs hadn’t been burned, but she was still a little shaky, and without the potion to dull the pain her burns felt as if she was rolling in needles. She collapsed back onto her bed and began to sob, but Ailinwe was right there with more ointment and plentiful hugs.

“You don’t have to push yourself, we’ve waited 60 years to leave this house, and a few more days wouldn’t hurt.� She applied fresh bandages to the ointment covered areas, her steady hands moving swiftly and carefully.

“No. Tonight. Please.� Cirinwe said, still determined.

They waited until after midnight, when they were sure their parents and household staff had retired for the night, and crept out of the house. The only luggage they could carry was Cirinwe’s magic satchel which, although enchanted to carry a deceptively large amount of items, was not infinite.

From the house they made their way into town and down to the docks, with Cirinwe having to rest every few minutes and lean on her sister when they walked. The exertion was making her sweat, and her bandages felt slimy and uncomfortable.

Even at this time of night the docks were still surprisingly busy. Cirinwe supposed that the ocean didn’t abide by regular work hours, so ships would be coming and going constantly. Which was good news for her and her sister.

After Ailinwe had talked to the sixth or seventh sailor, they found a Redguard merchant willing to take them on in return for a small sum of gold and provided that Ailinwe would cook for the crew on the voyage. They would be going to High Rock.

What a fascinating, if tragic, story behind Cirinwe’s scars that flows logically into departing her homeland. It does answer many questions and I’m so glad her injuries weren’t even worse.

She’s a strong elf. Even so, her self-consciousness seeps out sometimes. I’m glad she’s got Haa-Rei to share her story with.

Acadian - I'm glad some questions have been answered, but there's plenty more story to tell



Previously - Cirinwe awoke to find herself scarred and wounded, but alive. Seeing this as a sign, she and Ailinwe left home, bound for High Rock...

Chapter 56



The journey from Auridon to High Rock was long but uneventful. Cirinwe spent most of her time in the small cabin that had been provided for herself and Ailinwe, with only the occasional trip to the deck of the ship for some fresh air.

The crew of the ship was made up mainly of Redguards and Khajiit. The former were muscular and skilled swordsmen, while the latter were nimble enough to clamber around the ship’s rigging without any trouble. They were a pleasant enough group of people, but their manner was a little rougher than Cirinwe was used to. Ailinwe, however, was incredibly popular with the crew, mainly due to her excellent cooking. This was the first time that the two Altmer sisters had met anyone that wasn’t another Altmer.

The ship carried them first to Stros M’kai, a little to the north of Auridon, and then to a town on the coast of mainland Hammerfell. From there they followed the coast north until they reached their destination – the City of Wayrest. Rather than settling down there, Ailinwe followed some advice given to her by the ship’s captain, and the two Altmer headed further north. No doubt finding work and lodgings in a city as large as Wayrest would be difficult, but their final destination would apparently have plenty of opportunities for Ailinwe. When they arrived, Cirinwe could see why.

The town, which Cirinwe thought was more of a hamlet, was named Moorvale on maps, but Cirinwe wondered if its residents even knew that maps had been invented. The central feature of Moorvale was a partially ruined castle with the town appearing to spread out from there. The buildings were of the classic Breton style - wattle and daub, with thatched roofs and a small garden at the front. The area around Moorvale was mainly farmland, and Cirinwe noticed that there were more cows than people here.

“It’s very charming.� Ailinwe declared when they first arrived. Like Cirinwe, she wasn’t used to such a rural location.

“It’s nice.� Cirinwe decided. She was looking forward to the peace and quiet of the countryside.

At least, that’s what she thought. As it turned out, the countryside was just as active and noisy as many urban areas. The two Altmer found lodgings in a tavern on the outskirts of town, and every morning Cirinwe was awoken by the sound of cows being moved from field to shed for their daily milking. For the first couple of days she found this to be extremely aggravating, but after a while she began to get used to it. She also began to get used to the food here, which was simple yet filling.

She had assumed Ailinwe would be making her food, but her sister had managed to find herself some work as a cook at the castle. Cirinwe wasn’t sure who owned the castle (everyone simply referred to them as ‘His Lordship’ and ‘Her Ladyship’) but according to Ailinwe they were a very nice couple, and well-liked by the townsfolk.

As for the townsfolk themselves, Cirinwe tended to avoid them. Nobody had been rude to her, quite the opposite in fact, but if she wore her bandages she would receive looks of pity, and without bandages her horrific scars would make people uncomfortable. She was also significantly taller than anyone else in town, which made her stand out even more. As a result, she spent a great deal of time in her room, reading whatever books she could find and watching the world go by outside.

Her room looked out directly onto farmland, and beyond that lay a vast forest. According to the locals, the forest was haunted by the spirits of long-dead warriors. If true, it would be fascinating to see them for herself. If untrue, it would be fascinating to see what truly lurked in the trees. Either way, Cirinwe wanted to have a look.

It was on a cool spring morning, after about 6 months of staring out of the window, that the time finally came. Ailinwe would be at work all day, and was to spend the evening with a new acquaintance. Cirinwe left her a note, packed some food, and headed towards the woods.


There were no footpaths into the forest, but the comings and goings of foxes, badgers, and the like had created a series of small tracks that Cirinwe could use. All the same, she soon found herself clambering over logs and ducking under branches as she headed deeper and deeper inside. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but if she kept walking she would no doubt find something interesting.

After a while it began to grow darker, the thick canopy overhead blotting out much of the sunlight despite it being around midday. Cirinwe had begun to get used to walking around, and was better able to pay attention to her surroundings. She’d pause every now and then to watch a bird or beast go about its business, but was soon aware that she was not travelling alone.

Every so often she would see movement at the edge of her vision, but try as she might, she couldn’t see anything. She was wondering how best to confront the issue when she wandered into a large clearing, and her stalker made an appearance.

It was a woman. She had the small frame and fair features of a Breton, with blonde hair in a thick braid over one shoulder. She wore robes of fur and hide, and leaned casually on a gnarled wooden staff.

“Outsiders should be careful in the forest. Lots of dangers for them to wander into.� the woman spoke with a heavy High Rock accent, but the meaning behind her words was clear enough.

“Forgive me for intruding in your forest. My name is Cirinwe.� she bowed slowly.

For a brief moment it looked as if the Breton had smiled, but she didn’t introduce herself in turn. Instead she gestured for Cirinwe to follow, and set off into the woods.

“Where are we going?� Cirinwe asked, struggling to keep up.

“No questions, no noise.� the Breton didn’t even slow her pace to reply, but visibly flinched whenever Cirinwe snapped a twigged or stumbled on a root. No noise was going to be difficult.

Quickly and (almost) silently they moved on, deeper into the forest and the gathering dark.

A wonderfully described journey and period of time settling into their new farm-surrounded castle town.

I hope the mysterious Breton that Cirinwe encountered is a friend. I should imagine that friends of the forest would much more readily see past the self-conscious Altmer’s scars.

Just getting back to this.

If I'd started reading at this point, I'd be wondering what this had to do with Argonians. Maybe a reminder in each episode that she's telling the story to Haa-Rei?

I'd expect her to be wearing a robe and hood, as it's regular mage garb, and wouldn't draw extra attention. Plain ones don't particularly say "mage" either. Just so long as nobody thinks she's Ma'iq...

Acadian - You might be right. Though of course there is a big difference between how people actually see Ciri and how she thinks they do.

ghastley - Oh, good point.



Previously - Cirinwe continued telling the story of her past to Haa-Rei, specifically the time she first arrived in High Rock. After hearing rumours about a haunted forest, she decided to see it for herself.

Chapter 57



The Breton had begun to slow her pace, for which Cirinwe was very grateful. They’d been moving through the woods at a very brisk walk, and Cirinwe was covered in bits of leaf, twig, and mud. By contrast, her silent companion seemed to glide through the forest like a spirit – clearly she was very much at home in the dark woodland.

They stopped abruptly, and it was all Cirinwe could do to stay upright and not double over to gasp for breath.

“We’re here.� the Breton said, gesturing with a nod of the head.

‘Here’ looked very much like any other part of the forest. The only difference being a standing stone, maybe a head shorter than Cirinwe and carved with swirling patterns that glowed faintly like Welkynd stones.

“What is here?� Cirinwe asked, hoping that she hadn’t just been dragged through the woods to see a single stone.

“This is a barrier stone, there’s a big ring of them all around the village. Step inside.� she explained. As if to reassure Cirinwe, the Breton took a few steps forward, and once past the standing stone she gestured for the High Elf to follow.

As soon as Cirinwe walked past the stone, she understood. The stones act not only as a barrier, but as a shroud – concealing this patch of forest from view. What had once been just another clump of trees was now a large clearing, with several huts dotted about and people going about their business.

The first thing that Cirinwe noticed was that they were all women, and all wore the same fur and hide outfits as the Breton. Their group seemed to consist mainly of Bretons, Nords, and Argonians, though there were women of every race gathered in the clearing. Many were busying themselves with preparing food, mending clothes, or crafting strange decorations of bone, wood, and feathers.

The Breton gestured for Cirinwe to follow, and they made their way toward the largest hut, drawing many stares from those they passed. Cirinwe could feel her face flush with embarrassment, knowing full well that they were staring at her bandages.

The outside of the huts was an odd design of twisting wood, which Cirinwe had seen once before in a book about Bosmer culture. In fact it looked more like a short, fat tree had been hollowed out and fitted with windows and a door. Inside, it was surprisingly dark. The windows were covered by curtains, and the small fire in the room’s centre did little to illuminate anything.

“I’ve brought her.� said the Breton into the gloom.

“Oh, excellent. Thank you, Amelie.� A voice replied. The Breton nodded and left Cirinwe alone with whomever the voice belonged to.

“My name is Cirinwe.� She introduced herself with a bow. She wasn’t sure if she was bowing in the right direction but it was so dark that they likely wouldn’t see it anyway.

“I know. I’ve been expecting you for a while now – I thought you were never going to get here.� The voice said. “Sings, describe her to me.�

With that, the fire suddenly sputtered into life and several glowing orbs appeared around the room. It was as bright inside now as it had been outside, and Cirinwe could see who she was talking to.

There were two people, an Orc and an Argonian, seated on a pile of large cushions at the back of the room. As expected, both women were wearing the same fur and hide clothing as those outside.

The Orc’s entire body was covered in paint. Black, with a blue skeleton design that seemed to loosely trace her own bones. Her head was shaved, but for several thick dreadlocks on top, which reached down her back. The most striking thing about her was her eyes, which were simply black – no discernable pupils or colours.

The Argonian was a lot less...unusual. Her scales were thick like tree bark, and a beautiful dark purple colour. Several horns on her head poked through her hood, and her bright, amber eyes regarded Cirinwe carefully.

“She’s an Altmer. Very tall, with golden skin and silvery hair like a field of wheat on a warm Last Seed day. Her eyes are bright, but sad. She’s also covered in mud and twigs, not used to the woods.� The Argonian described Cirinwe, while the Orc stared vaguely in Cirinwe’s direction. Presumably she was blind.

“What about the scars?� The Orc asked, touching her own face in the places that Cirinwe had been burned. Now it was getting confusing.

“Oh, yes. Recent burns, on the left side of her body, currently covered with bandages. So this is the one?� after her description she turned to the Orc and asked the question.

“It would seem so,� The Orc nodded and climbed to her feet, picking up the staff that had been on the floor beside her, “we need to talk. Come.� she waved at Cirinwe and left the hut, the Argonian stayed on the cushions.

“Can I ask a question?� Cirinwe asked as she followed the Orc out of the hut and through the village. For a blind woman, the Orc moved extremely quickly on her long legs.

“Ask as many as you like, I’m sure you have plenty.�

“Right, yes, thank you. So…who are you?� the simplest questions are often the best place to start.

“My name is Lagakha. Yes, I’m blind, but I can still see you. I am the leader of this coven.� the Orc was obviously used to such questions, which made Cirinwe feel a little silly to ask them.

“How can you see me if you’re blind?� the words tumbled out of Cirinwe’s mouth before she’d had a chance to think about them.

“I can see your soul. To me, people are just blobs of colour and light in the darkness. That’s why I had Sings-to-Trees describe you. Might as well get this out of the way – I had a vision about you.� the Orc stopped her march in a quiet spot beside a river and sat down on a large rock. Cirinwe didn’t even know where to start.

Coven? Soul? Vision? Perhaps I’ve eaten something funny and this is all some bizarre hallucination. Or perhaps this forest is a lot more interesting than I first thought.

As one who travels inside a Bosmer, I found this woodsy episode delightful! I loved the shroud stone guardians protecting the coven's secrets from prying eyes. And what adorable little huts the trees have so kindly provided. Your descriptions brought the village as well as the fascinating Lagakha and Sings-to-Trees vibrantly to life.

Can't wait to learn more of why Cirinwe is significant to this mysterious coven.

Acadian - Unfortunately Cirinwe isn't quite as comfortable with the woods just yet. Perhaps, after spending time with a certain Argonian, she'll change her mind.



Previously - Continuing with her story, Cirinwe told Haa-Rei of her meeting with a mysterious coven of mages deep in the woods, and their leader Lagakha's visions...

Chapter 58



“A vision?� Cirinwe asked, perching on a mossy rock just across from Lagakha.

“As I said, I’m a priestess of Kyne. Sometimes she shows me things. Things that were, things that are, and some things that will be. A few weeks ago she showed you, arriving in the village.�

“For what purpose?�

“I wouldn’t want to presume the intentions of a god, but I’ve seen your future. You have the potential to do great things. Perhaps Kyne herself will call on you one day.�

“That doesn’t sound like me at all…� Cirinwe said doubtfully. ‘Great’ is hardly the word she would use to describe herself.

“Right now, I’d agree with you.� Lagakha replied bluntly.

“Can…you tell me about my future?�

“If Kyne wanted you to see it, she’d show you. Just know that if you’d seen what was in store for you, you’d dance naked through the woods.� the Orc laughed, though Cirinwe couldn’t possibly imagine anything that would make her happy enough to disrobe in such a place.

“How am I supposed to know where to go, or what to do, if I don’t know what Kyne wants of me?�

“That’s where I come in. You’re a talented mage, even for a High Elf, and I’ll help you regain your confidence. After that, the world will take you where it will, and things will happen as they happen.� Lagakha nodded to herself, clearly satisfied with her vague wisdom.

“You’re going to teach me magic? I’m not sure…� Cirinwe looked down at her scarred and bandaged hands. How can she be a talented mage if she can’t even make it through the academy?

“You haven’t cast a spell since you burned yourself, so we’ll start there. You pursued destruction magic at the urging of your parents, but your aura is not that of a destruction mage.� Lagakha’s visions had apparently been quite thorough.

“What kind of mage am I?�

“Your aura is warm, but not hot. A pure golden colour. You have a natural affinity for restoration magic.�

Cirinwe had never considered restoration magic before. Perhaps if she had, things would have turned out differently. She certainly wouldn’t be in this situation, though whether or not that was a good thing…

“I don’t really know any restoration spells.� Cirinwe admitted.

“No matter, we’ll start small. You can cast a minor healing spell, correct? Give it a try.� The Orc climbed to her feet and moved a few paces back to give Cirinwe enough room to cast.

Cirinwe was nervous. She wasn’t even sure if she remembered how to cast the spell, and even the hint of magic made her scars tingle. She raised her hand and cast the spell, but nothing happened. Two more attempts met with similar failure.

“It…won’t work…� Cirinwe sighed.

“Hmm. Let’s see…� Lagakha shuffled around to stand behind Cirinwe and placed her hand on the Altmer’s back, between her shoulder blades. “Ah, I see it now. This will hurt a bit.�

Magicka pulsed through the Orc’s hand and pain lanced through Cirinwe’s chest, driving the Altmer to her knees. It faded quickly though, and once Cirinwe had been helped up she felt a thousand times better.

“What…?� she asked, wiping her watery eyes on her sleeve.

“Imagine magicka as water in pond. When you cast a spell, the water flows out of the pond and through your body. The trauma of your failure had blocked up the pond, like weeds choking a stream. I just unblocked it. Try the spell again.�

Lagakha returned to her previous position. Cirinwe was beginning to wonder why people like that Orc didn’t run mage academies – they’d be much more successful.

Raising her hand again, Cirinwe could feel the difference. Her shoulders felt less stiff, and the knowledge of the spell came to her easily. She felt the magicka run out of her pool and blossom into the healing spell in her hand, showering her body with golden light. She had no wounds to heal, but she still felt a lot better.

“I did it!� Cirinwe laughed, clapping her hands together. She immediately regained her composure, but the smile wouldn’t leave her face.

“Yes, congratulations. You are now a novice restoration mage. The real training starts here.� Lagakha grinned.

For 3 long weeks Cirinwe was tutored in restoration magic by the coven. They were a fascinating group, and Cirinwe learned more from them than she’d ever learned before in her life. Not just magic, but things about other races and distant lands. Knowledge that only experience can bring. When it was time to leave, Cirinwe was saddened, but pleased to be returning to her sister - she had a lot to tell her.

“Will we meet again?� Cirinwe asked Lagakha, whom she had come to respect a great deal.

“I have not seen it, though it could happen. When you get to a sufficiently civilised place, you should join the Mages Guild. You’d do well there.�

“I will. Thank you.�

The walk back to the small town of Moorvale was easier than the previous journey, but only by a small margin. Cirinwe wondered if she’d ever get used to the wilderness. After getting back to town she received a very firm and emotional telling off by Ailinwe, who had been worried sick by her sister’s absence, and a decidedly more quiet and polite introduction to Ailinwe’s new family – her wife Lynette and Lynette’s daughter Marie. Soon after that they found a cheap house in the town of Anvil, Cyrodiil, and moved there together.

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

“…and you know the rest.� Cirinwe finished her story, waiting patiently for my reaction.

“That was…I…� I was speechless. Cirinwe had been through more than I’d realised. Her accident, a coven, travelling across half of Nirn. “thank you for telling me, Cirinwe.�

“Ciri.� she said. “I would like you to call me Ciri, if you don’t mind. We’re…quite close now, are we not?�

My jaw worked silently for a few moments, my heart having taken up residence in my mouth:

“Okay. Ciri.� I smiled.

I've been reading Ciri's story and sorrowed in her loss and delighted in her healing.

But what gets me, really gets me, is the ending of this latest chapter, where Haa Rei tells us his heart has moved.

Wonderful!

I read this one a couple of times before I decided what was unsettling me about it. Lagakha is essentially telling Cirinwe "Your parents put you in a box. Let me help you escape by putting you in this other box".

I doubt that Cirinwe's talent is even confined to magic, let alone a single school. But perhaps it's your intent for her to discover that for herself, and this is just one step along that path.

This is beautiful on a couple levels.

I’m fascinated as Ciri begins her journey as a restoration mage of Kyne. I’m so tantalized by what I know of her future here!

It also warms my heart to see the delicate but continuing closeness growing between Scars and Scales. Neither of these two wear their emotions on their sleeves, but their feelings for each other are unmistakable.

haute - glad you're enjoying it! Ciri's been through a lot, but life's abrasions have polished her into an absolute gem.

ghastley - Very true. Though of course there are some people who like to be put in a box, given a path etc. and sometimes one needs help from a kind Argonian to escape their restraints...

Acadian - Scars and Scales are certainly making progress, slowly but surely. Rest assured, even someone as tall as Ciri has plenty of room to grow



Previously - Cirinwe finished her story, telling Haa-Rei about the training she received while in High Rock. With their bond strengthened, the two companions continue their journey...

Chapter 59



The next morning, Cirinwe and I continued our journey towards Leyawiin. My companion seemed to be in a good mood, as if sharing her tale had lightened a great burden she’d been lugging around. I, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling as chipper.

The niggling feeling of discomfort that had plagued me on my previous trip had begun to return. Again, it was not painful, but it was such a distraction that I didn’t hear or smell the ogre coming out of the treeline.

For a few moments the three of us simply stared at each other – the creature’s beady little eyes flicking between myself and Cirinwe as it tried to decide which one would provide the better meal.

Cirinwe didn’t give it time to choose, and stepped forward to meet the beast head-on. I fumbled with my bow but eventually managed to plant an arrow in the ogre’s chest. Cirinwe danced around the creature, dodging its massive arms and giving me a good shot. Two more arrows, one in the shoulder and another between the ribs. An opening presented itself, and Cirinwe lobbed an orb of magicka at the ogre. It appeared to be restoration magicka, but the noise made by the beast suggested that it wasn’t being restored.

Cirinwe ducked beneath another wild swing, but didn’t have time to dodge the next, blocking it with the flat side of her axe. The force knocked her back a little but she kept her balance. Another arrow bounced off the ogre’s thick skull, staggering the creature long enough for Cirinwe’s axe to bury itself in the creature’s neck.

“I think…I’m getting the hang of this…� Cirinwe laughed as she caught her breath.

“Yes. Quite proficient.� I crouched over the ogre’s carcass to retrieve my arrows. Only one was still useable. Ogre hide is tough.

“Are you alright? You seem…quieter than usual.� Cirinwe was now trying to retrieve her axe. It took several attempts, but eventually she managed to heave it from the ogre’s corpse.

“I’m…not sure. It was like this when I last came to Leyawiin. An odd feeling in the back of my mind.� I wasn’t sure how to explain it, which just made me feel more frustrated.

“Sit.� Cirinwe commanded, pointing to a nearby rock. I complied, and she followed.

Healing magic flowed from Cirinwe’s hands and into my body. Her slender fingers felt cool on the sides of my head, and the magic almost felt like it was working. A few seconds after the spell was finished, the feeling returned.

“It’s nothing serious. I’ll be fine.� I lied. In truth I wanted to dip my head into a bucket of icy water to silence the swarm of fleshflies that must have taken up residence in my skull.

“I can’t see anything physically wrong, but that ogre managed to wander up to us without alerting you…I’d say that was serious enough.� She was, as ever, correct.

We left the ogre carcass behind and continued south. We both travelled with weapons drawn, and Cirinwe’s attention was split between looking at the road and shooting glances at me. Every so often she would think of a new spell and stop to cast it on me, with no effect. After while she had to stop in order to conserve magicka.

We made camp in the same place that I had done on my last trip. I previously had Eithne the flame atronach to help out, and my heart felt a little heavier for remembering my lost companion. My current companion was still studying me, trying to figure out what was wrong. We spoke little that night, and I felt guilty for ruining Cirinwe’s earlier good mood, but every time I thought about talking my foggy mind would obscure the words. Eventually I gave up and fell into a fitful sleep.

I awoke with a start. It was still dark, but not far off sunrise. To one side, the campfire did its best to fight off the chill in the air, while to my right sat Cirinwe, holding one of my hands in hers.

“You were dreaming again.� She held up an empty vial of my lycanthropy potion. I could taste the contents on my tongue.

“Thank you, Ciri.� I squeezed her hand and sat up slowly. Between the wolf spirit and the strange feeling, my head was far too busy to process any form of embarrassment I would ordinarily be feeling.

We packed up camp and resumed our journey, with Cirinwe in charge. I was glad that she was here. Had I been alone, I probably would have wandered to my death somewhere in Blackwood. Still, both of us felt relieved when the walls of Leyawiin came into view. The town was more-or-less the same as it had been on my previous visit. An unusual number of Argonians still wandered around, many looking how my head felt. I briefly wondered why so many where in Leyawiin, if they were supposed to be in Black Marsh, but I had more pressing concerns.

I lead Cirinwe to the Three Sisters Inn, which was quiet at this time of day. Once inside, Jötnar was easy to spot – he was sitting in one corner, table strewn with empty mead bottles and tankards. The look on his face suggested that this was no celebration.

“Jötnar, what’s wrong? What’s happened?� Cirinwe noticed it too. The Nord raised his head, and for a moment he looked so small and fragile.

“We…we killed them. We killed them all.�

oh, no . . .

Water's Edge, perhaps?

That is one of the greatest tragedies in Oblivion, TBH


that's what this reminds me of . . .

So what was it? Explain yourself!

A well-described ogre fight. I like how you take the time after to detail Haa-Rei recovering his arrows – a messy but necessary task.

Ciri acquitted herself well vs the ogre but I join her in wondering the source of Haa-Rei’s distraction. Lycanthropy-related perhaps? A disturbance in the Force Hist?

Finally they arrive at Leyawiin, only to discover Jötnar trying to drink away some mysterious disaster.