Clever Craft (TES: V Skyrim SI)
- Thread starter Chairtastic
- Start date
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
Mostly it's a mage build, but prioritize alchemy, alteration, and restoration. Lots of Shout cooldown if you can get it. His main weapons would be unarmed attacks, daggers, and Riekling spears.
- Location
- Dodging chaos dragons in Limbo
Where does this come from? I recognise the words, but just can't place it.
Thanks for the story, been enjoying it greatly, high quality writing and a promising future for the story.
Iridium Flare
Cyborg Commando
- Location
- AC-130 Gunship circling overhead
Lion King 2, Zira's lullaby
- Location
- Dodging chaos dragons in Limbo
Ah, of course. Thanks for that.
The Great Hunt
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
Codex: The Great Hunt
---
A dream revealed to hunters across Tamriel, sent by the Daedric Prince Hircine.
--
The vision begins with a dark forest, and blood-red moons in the sky. Unfamiliar mountains in the distance.
But then, from the trees, a titanic figure rises. A Faun buck of unreal proportions, taller than the mountains -- with grahtantlers that nudge the stars. One hand of the figure is not flesh -- but carved silver affixed to his wrist.
The dreamer locks eyes with the figure, who speaks with such force that the trees shake from the wind.
"Well met, Hunter. Rejoice, for in your lifetime there is a Great Hunt as is seen only once in an Era."
The vision of the forest, the mountains, and the enormous Faun fade as he swipes the air. In the void that follows, wingbeats and odd roars are heard, until the darkness clears. A dragon in flight! Faded grey scales, white and green skin in his wings, and bizarrely blunted teeth in his jaw.
"My Good Hunter, Mirmulnir, will serve as Master of the Hunt. He will sort you into Hunters, Greater Hounds, or Lesser Hounds according to your skill." The titanic Faun's voice spoke as if he was directly beside the dreamer. "In this Hunt, there will be a new twist for this new Era."
The vision of the dragon fades again, and returns to darkness. "Here are the Hares for this Great Hunt."
The darkness cleared to reveal a Nord man, dressed in furs, who ran through fields of ash with desperation clear on his face. "Sinding the Ungrateful." The vision changed again, to another Nord, older, bulkier in his build and garbed in wolf-like armor in a valorous hall. "Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions."
Again, darkness. And again, a new figure appeared before the dreamer's eyes. A dark figure in a dark room, golden eyes that gleamed in the shadows, claws that drew sparks on stone, enough light up a throne-like chair and noble's clothes. A staff designed with thorns and rose blooms along its length laid across his lap. "Vasha, the Hedonist."
Once more, a darkness that faded to reveal a one-eyed Khajiit with a torn ear and scars all over his body in the midst of a bath. There was something off about him. An ominous heartbeat played in the dreamer's ears. "Farri, Reaver Lord of the Hirstaang Forest."
The dreamer then saw the trees, the mountains, the bloody moons, and the titanic Faun again. He reached up with his silver hand and held up two fingers. "The twist on this Hunt is that two of these Hares must be killed, and two must be captured alive to earn the reward. You will not be told which -- but Mirmulnir will provide clues to look for once the Hunt begins."
The vision begins to fade, and an instinctual pull to the North fills its place.
"The Hunt will take place in Nchardak, on Solstheim. Hasten there, hunters. For once the portents of my Hunt are concluded, the chase begins."
--
I don't often do present tense. It feels... wrong.
---
A dream revealed to hunters across Tamriel, sent by the Daedric Prince Hircine.
--
The vision begins with a dark forest, and blood-red moons in the sky. Unfamiliar mountains in the distance.
But then, from the trees, a titanic figure rises. A Faun buck of unreal proportions, taller than the mountains -- with grahtantlers that nudge the stars. One hand of the figure is not flesh -- but carved silver affixed to his wrist.
The dreamer locks eyes with the figure, who speaks with such force that the trees shake from the wind.
"Well met, Hunter. Rejoice, for in your lifetime there is a Great Hunt as is seen only once in an Era."
The vision of the forest, the mountains, and the enormous Faun fade as he swipes the air. In the void that follows, wingbeats and odd roars are heard, until the darkness clears. A dragon in flight! Faded grey scales, white and green skin in his wings, and bizarrely blunted teeth in his jaw.
"My Good Hunter, Mirmulnir, will serve as Master of the Hunt. He will sort you into Hunters, Greater Hounds, or Lesser Hounds according to your skill." The titanic Faun's voice spoke as if he was directly beside the dreamer. "In this Hunt, there will be a new twist for this new Era."
The vision of the dragon fades again, and returns to darkness. "Here are the Hares for this Great Hunt."
The darkness cleared to reveal a Nord man, dressed in furs, who ran through fields of ash with desperation clear on his face. "Sinding the Ungrateful." The vision changed again, to another Nord, older, bulkier in his build and garbed in wolf-like armor in a valorous hall. "Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions."
Again, darkness. And again, a new figure appeared before the dreamer's eyes. A dark figure in a dark room, golden eyes that gleamed in the shadows, claws that drew sparks on stone, enough light up a throne-like chair and noble's clothes. A staff designed with thorns and rose blooms along its length laid across his lap. "Vasha, the Hedonist."
Once more, a darkness that faded to reveal a one-eyed Khajiit with a torn ear and scars all over his body in the midst of a bath. There was something off about him. An ominous heartbeat played in the dreamer's ears. "Farri, Reaver Lord of the Hirstaang Forest."
The dreamer then saw the trees, the mountains, the bloody moons, and the titanic Faun again. He reached up with his silver hand and held up two fingers. "The twist on this Hunt is that two of these Hares must be killed, and two must be captured alive to earn the reward. You will not be told which -- but Mirmulnir will provide clues to look for once the Hunt begins."
The vision begins to fade, and an instinctual pull to the North fills its place.
"The Hunt will take place in Nchardak, on Solstheim. Hasten there, hunters. For once the portents of my Hunt are concluded, the chase begins."
--
I don't often do present tense. It feels... wrong.
SmashQueen
Professional duck-cat.
Well. Now I'm wondering if the 2 Hares to catch alive are Farri and Sinding so that one may kill the other.
SneakyWalrus
Is the Water Free?
Ah Hircine, probably one of the more fair Daedra, all things considered. At least, as long as you're not his target,
Additionally, I feel like the poem is warranted in relation to his target naming conventions:
Additionally, I feel like the poem is warranted in relation to his target naming conventions:
AzrielIlluminare
Mothman Cultist
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The thing a lot of people forget about Hircine is they think he sees everything in a 'hunter or hunted' mindset, he does but they forget that sometimes the hunter can become the hunted. Which is something Hircine is perfectly okay with, funnily enough even his most devout followers forget that little tidbit.
So, the question is, are the hunters really the hunters? Or are they the prey.
So, the question is, are the hunters really the hunters? Or are they the prey.
Last edited:
Ch 7
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
Chapter Seven: Voice Shouting
---
Raven Rock Mine
Reaver Harrani
The young boss was a good rhook to follow. Clever, cunning, and with great insight. Harrani supposed it came from whatever had changed his heart, and that strange spell -- Clairvoyance. His heart did not beat like a Khajiit's, or an elf's, or a man's -- there was something wrong about it. She and J'Saddha could pick him out of a crowd, it sounded so strange.
When Harrani and J'Saddha had a moment alone with the young boss, she realized none of the bareskins realized how young he was. They could not see that, despite the scars, the young boss was barely a man. Perhaps nineteen, at most twenty-one. So young, and so badly scarred. She and J'Saddha tried to talk to him in Ta'agra, the language of their people.
It broke her heart to hear another Khajiit struggle to speak their own tongue. He had been taken from his parents far, far too young. He barely knew their ways, as if he'd only read about them. Damn the dark elves, Harrani had thought. At least he knew the most recent Khajiiti legend -- the Hero of Kvatch. A glorious figure that the clan mothers once had hoped would help all Khajiit be made welcome in the human's Empire.
Alas.
But the young boss and J'Saddha had been of the same mind -- it was not too late to fix the language and cultural problems. Briras, one of the dark elves, had been raised in Senchal, by Khajiiti parents. He had the same problem as the boss, but in reverse.
Harrani made a note to try and speak to Briras in Ta'agra sometime. She had never seen Senchal, perhaps he would tell her about it.
But the young master kept them busy. Harrani and other miners among the gang worked on the gold and emeralds the boss had pointed out to them. It helped that the potion Farri would splash in her and J'Saddha's eyes every morning would help their poor vision.
He said a splash every morning for a week would permanently heal their eyes, which helped Harrani suffer the horrid cold of the potion.
Harrani had, regrettably, been rather emotional once the potion had first started to work. All the blurriness she'd endured, the inability to truly see faces -- to have her eyesight back was a blessing straight from Azurah.
With vigor, Harrani would mine gold and emeralds, then bring them back to the mine to polish and smelt the ore. Every day they were able to mine up sixty pounds of gold ore -- Harrani was told it was much more than the Highpoint Tower Mine's production. Emeralds were rarer, but they still mined up some every day.
The young boss and Nelos used their magic to create a path from the budding gold mine to the smelter -- with a plan being made to join their mine to the Raven Rock Mine once it was deep enough. Their magic also went to work creating shelter from the ash.
Each bar of gold they produced weighed about thirty pounds, and each pound of gold could make one hundred gold coins. That meant they mined up about six thousand gold each day, just in gold ore. The emeralds would only increase that profit margin.
After a week of mining, and the gold bars in the big chest they'd taken from the old boss' chamber growing in number, everyone was ecstatic about their pay once they had it.
One of the chambers down from the main 'office' space of the mine had been repurposed into a kitchen by Nelos and the young boss. They had worked the stone into creating an oven, a chimney, and evened it out for furniture. Leather cut into strips served as the impromptu door.
Harrani had sat at one of the tables, chatting with Meerana, when Berol came to their table with their food. It was a spicy stew, she could tell from the smell -- with vegetables and meat in the mix. "Excuse, please?" Harrani looked up at Berol left for the next table. "What is this?"
"A stew the boss taught me," the pudgy Dunmer replied with a wide smile. "Slaughterfish eggs, garlic, ash yams, some lavender, and fire salts." He stirred a big pot he carried with one hand easily -- under all that pudge was some strength. "We don't have a name for it yet, but if you think of one -- we're open to suggestions!"
"Are… fire salts edible?" Meerana poked the stew with her spoon, as if afraid it would explode.
"Of course! You just have to moderate how much you eat, or it'll burn you up." Berol chuckled, and ambled off. "Going in, and coming out."
"Oh that's so incredibly ominous." She looked down at the stew, then to Harrani. "I'll buy you a drink once we're paid if you try it first."
"This one accepts." It had been literal years since Harrani had had any good alcohol, and Meerana had convieniently failed to specify what kind of drink. Without hesitation, she drove her spoon in and transferred some stew to her mouth.
The ash yams provided some sweetness -- not as much as moon sugar, but still enough to help Harrani relax. She hadn't expected slaughterfish eggs to taste so good, or that the spicyness she'd smelled wouldn't become a burning death on her tongue. It had kick, and it warmed her up in her core with every mouthful.
"Hey now, you're supposed to tell me how it tastes!" Meerana shoved Harrani slightly.
It was enough to make Harrani realize her bowl was more than half empty. She'd been so lost in the taste, her body had been automatically feeding itself. She met her friend's eyes with a look of wonder. "Khajiit says it is damn good."
"And the fire salts don't -- "
Meerana was cut off by a slam from the heavy door at the front of the mine, followed by an echoing roar.
All the talk in the kitchen stopped. Berol paused in the midst of serving. They all stopped and listened.
Harrani had been in the northlands to know that roar had sounded eeriely like a saber cat.
The leather flaps at the front of the kitchen moved aside -- and the young boss stood in the doorway. "Nenya?" His voice carried easily through the silence, despite how softly he spoke. The kind of softness that came from forcible suppression of deep rage.
Harrani had heard it from her mama more than once.
From the balcony seats, the asked-for warrior answered. "Boss?"
"Your arm feeling alright?"
"Y-yeah…."
"Good. Please finish your food and get kitted out." The softness in his voice mixed with a low tone of malice. "We need to kill some people." As quickly as he came, the young boss left.
The only noise after he'd gone was the scrape of Harrani's spoon on the bottom of her bowl. She'd been unconsciously eating again.
"I don't know how you kept eating through that," Meerana whispered, then hastily slapped Harrani's hand when it reached for her bowl. "Hey, stay away from my food! Ask for seconds like a normal person!"
--
En route to Northshore Landing
Reaver Nenya
It felt good to have a shield on her arm again. Her old targe was broken beyond repair, but her new chitin shield served as an adequate replacement. It was significantly wider and heavier than she was used to, but it was a lot stronger too. She could more easily bash with it to create an opening.
They went to the western edge of town, then onto a boat they'd left moored. The boss worked some magic -- the boat moved without the need to row.
"Apparently," the boss growled as they floated around the Earth Stone peninsula, "Raven Rock lost the dies they use to make coins. It seems one of those collapsed buildings on the western side was the mint. Khajiit was told the only way to turn our gold bars into coins would be to ship them to a bank in Blacklight, to be given credit."
"Credit," Nenya asked, as incredulous as the boss seemed enraged. "How in the Pit are we supposed to buy food with credit? It would take weeks to set up!"
Farri crossed his arms with a glower. "And there is no guarantee that we'd get it. We would send large sums of gold to a bank and hope they open an account for us. Just as likely, they'd seize it on the belief it was stolen." His lonely eye narrowed. "The gold would be on the same ship with our clemency papers."
Nenya shook her head. Only a Redoran would believe that would end well. So much gold would be given priority over mail, and thus would arrive before their clemency papers were processed and announced.
"Khajiit doesn't think it was meant maliciously, Arano is always open with his hostility, but he would treat us losing gold as a 'happy accident'." The boss sighed, and forcibly slicked his puffed fur down. "Anyway. The Clairvoyance magic tells this one there is a coin die this way. Hopefully more than one, but who knows."
The boss' magic led them far to the north -- where icebergs dotted the coast, and the tall mountains were covered in pale snow, not grey ash. As they neared the northern shore of Solstheim, the icebergs became thickly packed, enough that the water between them was covered in boat-crushing floes. Every time Nenya looked at the shore, she saw horkers.
They passed by a gap in the walls of ice, where the shore started to reveal itself again. A long abandoned port came into view, covered in mudcrabs. Man-sized crustaceans that dwelled in shallow water.
Among the wretched things were small, blue skinned elven creatures -- Rieklings, a variety of Goblin, once a plague on Solstheim. They couldn't tolerate the ash well, and had stayed in the north. They were sentient but primitive, tribal.
And unfortunately for Nenya and the boss, the thick ice floes and bergs herded them dangerously close to the fetchers.
They started to swarm the dock, one even threw a spear at them which Nenya deflected into the boat with her new shield. As they drew closer, she could see the teeth-like pattern the Rieklings had tattooed around their mouths.
They were squared up for a fight, ready to lay into them with their stone spears. But they stopped. There was recognition on their faces.
If the boss noticed, he didn't comment. He took a deep breath, and spoke a word that echoed through the glacier crevices.
"Zuun! Haal! Viik!"
A ripple of air passed over the Rieklings with every word. Their spears crumbled in their hands, their quivers of reserve spears went to dust as well. The most horrifying part was when the ripple hit a Riekling mounted on a bristleback boar -- the animal squealed as it too crumbled to dust.
Nenya realized, right then and there, that betraying the boss under any circumstances was not acceptable.
The boss stopped their boat, and had it move sideways along the dock. Ropes from the dock linked with ropes in their boat, and moored it, secure. He stood, and picked up the spear that had been in the boat -- the only one that remained. "Right. Nenya? Time for killing."
The Rieklings were so confused by what happened, they delayed their response until after Nenya and the boss had ascended to the dock, and started to kill them. Nenya's scimitar worked as intended, with powerful cutting power. To her surprise, the boss knew his way around a spear -- a jab or slash to the neck, and he moved on while they died. After the first batch to make them process they were in danger, the Rieklings began to scatter. All except the boar rider.
The Riekling was crouched next to the pile of dust that had been his mount -- he ran his hands through the dust, and tried to compact it. Perhaps he was in shock.
It didn't matter, as the boss stabbed the bloody spear he'd wielded in the fight into the ground next to the Riekling.
"Khajiit missed using a spear," he said whistfully. "It helped him remember his zanpakutou. Thanks for that." With that, the boss walked off with the Riekling still alive. "Nenya, if he tries something foolish, cut him down. Otherwise, leave him be."
"Aye," Nenya responded and walked after the boss -- slower, so she could watch the grieving Riekling.
All that was left in the abandoned port was ruins, and mudcrabs. The creatures backed away as the boss walked past them, like he had places to be. Despite lacking shoes, and one sleeve, he cut an intimidating figure covered in Riekling blood.
At the ruins of a shack, across a freshwater stream from further up the glacier, the boss approached a particularly dark mudcrab. "Salty, good to see ya. How's tricks?"
The mudcrab emerged from the ground, and clacked its claws at the boss.
"How rude." The boss casually side-stepped the crab, and entered the shack. It pursued him, clacking, but the boss emerged a moment later with a spike of iron in one hand, and a journal in the other. "Well… here's half a die." He pocketed it while he kept out of the mudcrab's path with ease. "And the other half is… great." He held up his hand, and his ears drooped. "Back to the boat."
They walked to the boat, and past the grieving Riekling again. The poor creature hadn't reacted to them at all either time.
Once in the boat, and on the move again, the boss started to read the journal.
"Boss…." Nenya considered her words carefully, to leave as little wiggle room for an answer without omission. "How did you do that 'weapons to dust' thing with your voice?"
"Farri shouted." He turned a page in the journal, then glanced up at her with his lonely eye. "Seriously. Khajiit uses dragon shouts."
"Oh… that's… a form of magic?"
Farri shrugged. "It requires a great deal of understanding of things in the practical, conceptual, and cosmic level. This one cheats, naturally."
"Naturally."
"Anyone can do it -- but it usually requires winning the spiritual lottery, or decades of study." He shrugged. "The one he used on the Rieklings is 'Disarm'. Very useful for disrupting enemies."
Nenya nodded. "You… used it on Golven, too."
"Correct. This one did not want to use the Dragon 'Fire Breath' because Hakar was so close." The boss flipped a page in the journal again, and his ears went flat on his head. He produced a long 'f' sound that then became a curse word. "This? Is bad news."
Nenya's eyebrows came together. "Why? What's it say?"
"This is dated from Morvayn's mother's time. She had prospectors find another ebony vein underneath that glacier." He pointed whence they came. "Is considered as big as Raven Rock vein, back in its hayday."
She didn't understand, and looked over her shoulder. "Then -- why does no one in Raven Rock know about it?"
"Khajiit is not sure no one does." He patted his satchel. "Die was in that shack because, per Khajiit's reading, they wanted to test out making coins from ebony. They were not very practical for Redorans."
Nenya sighed through her nose. Ebony took months -- months -- to go from ore to ingot. White fire was needed to cut that down to a mere number of days. But it was durable, and a sure sign of wealth.
"Oh. Khajiit might know why it is not widely known by Redorans, and why they were impractical with ebony coins." Farri tapped the journal. "Journal doesn't name its owner, but it mentions a son called Vilur."
Nenya's eyes widened as she connected the dots. "Vilur Ulen…."
House Hlaalu.
--
Raven Rock
Glover Mallory
Glover knew something was up when the Second Councilor, looking like he'd just kissed a skeever's ass, and Farri, smug as a Black-Briar, both came to his forge as he closed up for the day.
"Glover," Adril started with a sigh, and rubbed his forehead. "Do you still have that spare anvil from the mint? A… a coin die has been recovered, and we have need of it."
"Yeah," Glover responded, slow, as he didn't know the context. "I can get it dusted off and ready to go by tomorrow morning."
"Excellent. We'll be… opening up a new mint. One of the abandoned buildings will be repurposed -- I'll be by to show you where to go in the morning." Adril turned to look down at Farri and clenched his fists. "I… am grateful you managed to find our missing property. We'll get started minting your coins as soon as we can."
Adril left, and the two thieves were left alone.
"What in Oblivion bit him in the ass?" Glover's question was muttered, but he hoped Farri would answer.
"Elitism being met with harsh reality, this one believes." Farri chuckled. He looked up at Glover with a smirk. "He wanted this one and his gang to send their gold to Blacklight, and hope a bank gave us credit."
Glover's eyes bugged out of his head for a moment, then he whistled. "And you found a neat way around that, I imagine."
"Khajiit did." The cat brushed his prominent sideburns -- like a lynx -- with a pleased look on his face. "There isn't much worth stealing on this island -- might as well do honest work."
That hit home for Glover -- and he remembered the old Thieve's Guild armor in his basement. It'd been hard to go legit after a life of plunder. Farri's gang probably felt the same.
"Khajiit… would also like to know when you open the shop, tomorrow?" His smug bearing faded quickly, like spring thaw, and the cat developed a bit of awkwardness. "Khajiit doesn't know if you do false eyes, but he hopes…."
"You don't have a falsie, already?" From the age of his scars, Glover would have thought Farri had one, and just didn't wear it. "I can do that for you, no problem. You want glass, or something else?" Glover was ecstatic to dust off his jeweler's kit -- no one in Raven Rock needed rings or necklaces so it wasn't economical to plan on it. "You guys have been smelting gold, right? I can work with gold."
"Khajiit was hoping gold would be acceptable." The cat reached into his satchel, and pulled out a nugget of gold and a polished emerald. "Would this be good for it? Khajiit can get you coin, once the mint is open."
"That's fine." Glover took the nugget and gemstone, then crouched down to Farri's eye level. The green of the emerald wasn't an ideal match, but the sapphires Highpoint Tower mined up were too deeply blue as well. Aquamarine would be best for a perfect match, but the emerald was what he had to work with. "Tell you what -- cut me in on what you've got going? I'll do it free."
Glover took the cat into his house, where he had the cat lay down so Glover could take measurements on the eye. The socket was still fully formed -- so a false eye had to have been in there at some point. But all around the eye were scars, like something had reached in and clawed the eye out. He could feel a gap in the cat's orbit above and below the eye -- presumably where a slash had been made.
And while he did that, Farri read him into the state of mineral wealth on Solstheim. Just that day, his gang had discovered a new ebony vein and a rich malachite vein both on the north side of the island.
Malachite, gold, gems, ebony, silver, and corundum. Solstheim was one of the most densely packed regions for mineral wealth if the cat was to be believed.
Once the measurements were taken, Glover led the cat back outside. "Right. After that anvil's moved, I can get that hammered out and cut this emerald in a couple hours. You should have your new eye by… what's up?"
The cat's ears had started to move about, as if to catch a sound.
"Detaka!"
A high pitched voice shouted from the west of them, followed by a swish. Glover saw something moving in his periphery and moved on instinct. He grabbed at Farri to pull him out of the way.
Unfortunately Farri's instinct was similar, but in the opposite direction. And Glover was stronger.
A simple stone spear sailed between them and caught the Khajiit's robe. Neither of them were hurt, but the cat was rendered indecent.
Off among the trama roots and scathecraw leaves was a Riekling, a charger from his horned headdress. His mount was nowhere to be seen. There were tear marks on the goblin's tattooed face
"Itaka!" The Riekling shouted and gestured with a spear drawn from a quiver on his back. From the surrounding plants and ruined buildings emerged more Rieklings. And then more.
And then even more.
Glover lost count at fifty. He glanced at Farri, who was squared up to fight despite being in a breechcloth, armed with a glowing dagger he had to have somewhere uncomfortable.
Only some of the Rieklings focused on them, the rest went past them to get at town.
As he drew his dagger, he remembered Delvin telling him life on the frontier was boring.
---
Who else wondered how Raven Rock would fair if the hundred plus Rieklings on the western coast went down and poked their Bulwark-free side? Find out next time!
---
Raven Rock Mine
Reaver Harrani
The young boss was a good rhook to follow. Clever, cunning, and with great insight. Harrani supposed it came from whatever had changed his heart, and that strange spell -- Clairvoyance. His heart did not beat like a Khajiit's, or an elf's, or a man's -- there was something wrong about it. She and J'Saddha could pick him out of a crowd, it sounded so strange.
When Harrani and J'Saddha had a moment alone with the young boss, she realized none of the bareskins realized how young he was. They could not see that, despite the scars, the young boss was barely a man. Perhaps nineteen, at most twenty-one. So young, and so badly scarred. She and J'Saddha tried to talk to him in Ta'agra, the language of their people.
It broke her heart to hear another Khajiit struggle to speak their own tongue. He had been taken from his parents far, far too young. He barely knew their ways, as if he'd only read about them. Damn the dark elves, Harrani had thought. At least he knew the most recent Khajiiti legend -- the Hero of Kvatch. A glorious figure that the clan mothers once had hoped would help all Khajiit be made welcome in the human's Empire.
Alas.
But the young boss and J'Saddha had been of the same mind -- it was not too late to fix the language and cultural problems. Briras, one of the dark elves, had been raised in Senchal, by Khajiiti parents. He had the same problem as the boss, but in reverse.
Harrani made a note to try and speak to Briras in Ta'agra sometime. She had never seen Senchal, perhaps he would tell her about it.
But the young master kept them busy. Harrani and other miners among the gang worked on the gold and emeralds the boss had pointed out to them. It helped that the potion Farri would splash in her and J'Saddha's eyes every morning would help their poor vision.
He said a splash every morning for a week would permanently heal their eyes, which helped Harrani suffer the horrid cold of the potion.
Harrani had, regrettably, been rather emotional once the potion had first started to work. All the blurriness she'd endured, the inability to truly see faces -- to have her eyesight back was a blessing straight from Azurah.
With vigor, Harrani would mine gold and emeralds, then bring them back to the mine to polish and smelt the ore. Every day they were able to mine up sixty pounds of gold ore -- Harrani was told it was much more than the Highpoint Tower Mine's production. Emeralds were rarer, but they still mined up some every day.
The young boss and Nelos used their magic to create a path from the budding gold mine to the smelter -- with a plan being made to join their mine to the Raven Rock Mine once it was deep enough. Their magic also went to work creating shelter from the ash.
Each bar of gold they produced weighed about thirty pounds, and each pound of gold could make one hundred gold coins. That meant they mined up about six thousand gold each day, just in gold ore. The emeralds would only increase that profit margin.
After a week of mining, and the gold bars in the big chest they'd taken from the old boss' chamber growing in number, everyone was ecstatic about their pay once they had it.
One of the chambers down from the main 'office' space of the mine had been repurposed into a kitchen by Nelos and the young boss. They had worked the stone into creating an oven, a chimney, and evened it out for furniture. Leather cut into strips served as the impromptu door.
Harrani had sat at one of the tables, chatting with Meerana, when Berol came to their table with their food. It was a spicy stew, she could tell from the smell -- with vegetables and meat in the mix. "Excuse, please?" Harrani looked up at Berol left for the next table. "What is this?"
"A stew the boss taught me," the pudgy Dunmer replied with a wide smile. "Slaughterfish eggs, garlic, ash yams, some lavender, and fire salts." He stirred a big pot he carried with one hand easily -- under all that pudge was some strength. "We don't have a name for it yet, but if you think of one -- we're open to suggestions!"
"Are… fire salts edible?" Meerana poked the stew with her spoon, as if afraid it would explode.
"Of course! You just have to moderate how much you eat, or it'll burn you up." Berol chuckled, and ambled off. "Going in, and coming out."
"Oh that's so incredibly ominous." She looked down at the stew, then to Harrani. "I'll buy you a drink once we're paid if you try it first."
"This one accepts." It had been literal years since Harrani had had any good alcohol, and Meerana had convieniently failed to specify what kind of drink. Without hesitation, she drove her spoon in and transferred some stew to her mouth.
The ash yams provided some sweetness -- not as much as moon sugar, but still enough to help Harrani relax. She hadn't expected slaughterfish eggs to taste so good, or that the spicyness she'd smelled wouldn't become a burning death on her tongue. It had kick, and it warmed her up in her core with every mouthful.
"Hey now, you're supposed to tell me how it tastes!" Meerana shoved Harrani slightly.
It was enough to make Harrani realize her bowl was more than half empty. She'd been so lost in the taste, her body had been automatically feeding itself. She met her friend's eyes with a look of wonder. "Khajiit says it is damn good."
"And the fire salts don't -- "
Meerana was cut off by a slam from the heavy door at the front of the mine, followed by an echoing roar.
All the talk in the kitchen stopped. Berol paused in the midst of serving. They all stopped and listened.
Harrani had been in the northlands to know that roar had sounded eeriely like a saber cat.
The leather flaps at the front of the kitchen moved aside -- and the young boss stood in the doorway. "Nenya?" His voice carried easily through the silence, despite how softly he spoke. The kind of softness that came from forcible suppression of deep rage.
Harrani had heard it from her mama more than once.
From the balcony seats, the asked-for warrior answered. "Boss?"
"Your arm feeling alright?"
"Y-yeah…."
"Good. Please finish your food and get kitted out." The softness in his voice mixed with a low tone of malice. "We need to kill some people." As quickly as he came, the young boss left.
The only noise after he'd gone was the scrape of Harrani's spoon on the bottom of her bowl. She'd been unconsciously eating again.
"I don't know how you kept eating through that," Meerana whispered, then hastily slapped Harrani's hand when it reached for her bowl. "Hey, stay away from my food! Ask for seconds like a normal person!"
--
En route to Northshore Landing
Reaver Nenya
It felt good to have a shield on her arm again. Her old targe was broken beyond repair, but her new chitin shield served as an adequate replacement. It was significantly wider and heavier than she was used to, but it was a lot stronger too. She could more easily bash with it to create an opening.
They went to the western edge of town, then onto a boat they'd left moored. The boss worked some magic -- the boat moved without the need to row.
"Apparently," the boss growled as they floated around the Earth Stone peninsula, "Raven Rock lost the dies they use to make coins. It seems one of those collapsed buildings on the western side was the mint. Khajiit was told the only way to turn our gold bars into coins would be to ship them to a bank in Blacklight, to be given credit."
"Credit," Nenya asked, as incredulous as the boss seemed enraged. "How in the Pit are we supposed to buy food with credit? It would take weeks to set up!"
Farri crossed his arms with a glower. "And there is no guarantee that we'd get it. We would send large sums of gold to a bank and hope they open an account for us. Just as likely, they'd seize it on the belief it was stolen." His lonely eye narrowed. "The gold would be on the same ship with our clemency papers."
Nenya shook her head. Only a Redoran would believe that would end well. So much gold would be given priority over mail, and thus would arrive before their clemency papers were processed and announced.
"Khajiit doesn't think it was meant maliciously, Arano is always open with his hostility, but he would treat us losing gold as a 'happy accident'." The boss sighed, and forcibly slicked his puffed fur down. "Anyway. The Clairvoyance magic tells this one there is a coin die this way. Hopefully more than one, but who knows."
The boss' magic led them far to the north -- where icebergs dotted the coast, and the tall mountains were covered in pale snow, not grey ash. As they neared the northern shore of Solstheim, the icebergs became thickly packed, enough that the water between them was covered in boat-crushing floes. Every time Nenya looked at the shore, she saw horkers.
They passed by a gap in the walls of ice, where the shore started to reveal itself again. A long abandoned port came into view, covered in mudcrabs. Man-sized crustaceans that dwelled in shallow water.
Among the wretched things were small, blue skinned elven creatures -- Rieklings, a variety of Goblin, once a plague on Solstheim. They couldn't tolerate the ash well, and had stayed in the north. They were sentient but primitive, tribal.
And unfortunately for Nenya and the boss, the thick ice floes and bergs herded them dangerously close to the fetchers.
They started to swarm the dock, one even threw a spear at them which Nenya deflected into the boat with her new shield. As they drew closer, she could see the teeth-like pattern the Rieklings had tattooed around their mouths.
They were squared up for a fight, ready to lay into them with their stone spears. But they stopped. There was recognition on their faces.
If the boss noticed, he didn't comment. He took a deep breath, and spoke a word that echoed through the glacier crevices.
"Zuun! Haal! Viik!"
A ripple of air passed over the Rieklings with every word. Their spears crumbled in their hands, their quivers of reserve spears went to dust as well. The most horrifying part was when the ripple hit a Riekling mounted on a bristleback boar -- the animal squealed as it too crumbled to dust.
Nenya realized, right then and there, that betraying the boss under any circumstances was not acceptable.
The boss stopped their boat, and had it move sideways along the dock. Ropes from the dock linked with ropes in their boat, and moored it, secure. He stood, and picked up the spear that had been in the boat -- the only one that remained. "Right. Nenya? Time for killing."
The Rieklings were so confused by what happened, they delayed their response until after Nenya and the boss had ascended to the dock, and started to kill them. Nenya's scimitar worked as intended, with powerful cutting power. To her surprise, the boss knew his way around a spear -- a jab or slash to the neck, and he moved on while they died. After the first batch to make them process they were in danger, the Rieklings began to scatter. All except the boar rider.
The Riekling was crouched next to the pile of dust that had been his mount -- he ran his hands through the dust, and tried to compact it. Perhaps he was in shock.
It didn't matter, as the boss stabbed the bloody spear he'd wielded in the fight into the ground next to the Riekling.
"Khajiit missed using a spear," he said whistfully. "It helped him remember his zanpakutou. Thanks for that." With that, the boss walked off with the Riekling still alive. "Nenya, if he tries something foolish, cut him down. Otherwise, leave him be."
"Aye," Nenya responded and walked after the boss -- slower, so she could watch the grieving Riekling.
All that was left in the abandoned port was ruins, and mudcrabs. The creatures backed away as the boss walked past them, like he had places to be. Despite lacking shoes, and one sleeve, he cut an intimidating figure covered in Riekling blood.
At the ruins of a shack, across a freshwater stream from further up the glacier, the boss approached a particularly dark mudcrab. "Salty, good to see ya. How's tricks?"
The mudcrab emerged from the ground, and clacked its claws at the boss.
"How rude." The boss casually side-stepped the crab, and entered the shack. It pursued him, clacking, but the boss emerged a moment later with a spike of iron in one hand, and a journal in the other. "Well… here's half a die." He pocketed it while he kept out of the mudcrab's path with ease. "And the other half is… great." He held up his hand, and his ears drooped. "Back to the boat."
They walked to the boat, and past the grieving Riekling again. The poor creature hadn't reacted to them at all either time.
Once in the boat, and on the move again, the boss started to read the journal.
"Boss…." Nenya considered her words carefully, to leave as little wiggle room for an answer without omission. "How did you do that 'weapons to dust' thing with your voice?"
"Farri shouted." He turned a page in the journal, then glanced up at her with his lonely eye. "Seriously. Khajiit uses dragon shouts."
"Oh… that's… a form of magic?"
Farri shrugged. "It requires a great deal of understanding of things in the practical, conceptual, and cosmic level. This one cheats, naturally."
"Naturally."
"Anyone can do it -- but it usually requires winning the spiritual lottery, or decades of study." He shrugged. "The one he used on the Rieklings is 'Disarm'. Very useful for disrupting enemies."
Nenya nodded. "You… used it on Golven, too."
"Correct. This one did not want to use the Dragon 'Fire Breath' because Hakar was so close." The boss flipped a page in the journal again, and his ears went flat on his head. He produced a long 'f' sound that then became a curse word. "This? Is bad news."
Nenya's eyebrows came together. "Why? What's it say?"
"This is dated from Morvayn's mother's time. She had prospectors find another ebony vein underneath that glacier." He pointed whence they came. "Is considered as big as Raven Rock vein, back in its hayday."
She didn't understand, and looked over her shoulder. "Then -- why does no one in Raven Rock know about it?"
"Khajiit is not sure no one does." He patted his satchel. "Die was in that shack because, per Khajiit's reading, they wanted to test out making coins from ebony. They were not very practical for Redorans."
Nenya sighed through her nose. Ebony took months -- months -- to go from ore to ingot. White fire was needed to cut that down to a mere number of days. But it was durable, and a sure sign of wealth.
"Oh. Khajiit might know why it is not widely known by Redorans, and why they were impractical with ebony coins." Farri tapped the journal. "Journal doesn't name its owner, but it mentions a son called Vilur."
Nenya's eyes widened as she connected the dots. "Vilur Ulen…."
House Hlaalu.
--
Raven Rock
Glover Mallory
Glover knew something was up when the Second Councilor, looking like he'd just kissed a skeever's ass, and Farri, smug as a Black-Briar, both came to his forge as he closed up for the day.
"Glover," Adril started with a sigh, and rubbed his forehead. "Do you still have that spare anvil from the mint? A… a coin die has been recovered, and we have need of it."
"Yeah," Glover responded, slow, as he didn't know the context. "I can get it dusted off and ready to go by tomorrow morning."
"Excellent. We'll be… opening up a new mint. One of the abandoned buildings will be repurposed -- I'll be by to show you where to go in the morning." Adril turned to look down at Farri and clenched his fists. "I… am grateful you managed to find our missing property. We'll get started minting your coins as soon as we can."
Adril left, and the two thieves were left alone.
"What in Oblivion bit him in the ass?" Glover's question was muttered, but he hoped Farri would answer.
"Elitism being met with harsh reality, this one believes." Farri chuckled. He looked up at Glover with a smirk. "He wanted this one and his gang to send their gold to Blacklight, and hope a bank gave us credit."
Glover's eyes bugged out of his head for a moment, then he whistled. "And you found a neat way around that, I imagine."
"Khajiit did." The cat brushed his prominent sideburns -- like a lynx -- with a pleased look on his face. "There isn't much worth stealing on this island -- might as well do honest work."
That hit home for Glover -- and he remembered the old Thieve's Guild armor in his basement. It'd been hard to go legit after a life of plunder. Farri's gang probably felt the same.
"Khajiit… would also like to know when you open the shop, tomorrow?" His smug bearing faded quickly, like spring thaw, and the cat developed a bit of awkwardness. "Khajiit doesn't know if you do false eyes, but he hopes…."
"You don't have a falsie, already?" From the age of his scars, Glover would have thought Farri had one, and just didn't wear it. "I can do that for you, no problem. You want glass, or something else?" Glover was ecstatic to dust off his jeweler's kit -- no one in Raven Rock needed rings or necklaces so it wasn't economical to plan on it. "You guys have been smelting gold, right? I can work with gold."
"Khajiit was hoping gold would be acceptable." The cat reached into his satchel, and pulled out a nugget of gold and a polished emerald. "Would this be good for it? Khajiit can get you coin, once the mint is open."
"That's fine." Glover took the nugget and gemstone, then crouched down to Farri's eye level. The green of the emerald wasn't an ideal match, but the sapphires Highpoint Tower mined up were too deeply blue as well. Aquamarine would be best for a perfect match, but the emerald was what he had to work with. "Tell you what -- cut me in on what you've got going? I'll do it free."
Glover took the cat into his house, where he had the cat lay down so Glover could take measurements on the eye. The socket was still fully formed -- so a false eye had to have been in there at some point. But all around the eye were scars, like something had reached in and clawed the eye out. He could feel a gap in the cat's orbit above and below the eye -- presumably where a slash had been made.
And while he did that, Farri read him into the state of mineral wealth on Solstheim. Just that day, his gang had discovered a new ebony vein and a rich malachite vein both on the north side of the island.
Malachite, gold, gems, ebony, silver, and corundum. Solstheim was one of the most densely packed regions for mineral wealth if the cat was to be believed.
Once the measurements were taken, Glover led the cat back outside. "Right. After that anvil's moved, I can get that hammered out and cut this emerald in a couple hours. You should have your new eye by… what's up?"
The cat's ears had started to move about, as if to catch a sound.
"Detaka!"
A high pitched voice shouted from the west of them, followed by a swish. Glover saw something moving in his periphery and moved on instinct. He grabbed at Farri to pull him out of the way.
Unfortunately Farri's instinct was similar, but in the opposite direction. And Glover was stronger.
A simple stone spear sailed between them and caught the Khajiit's robe. Neither of them were hurt, but the cat was rendered indecent.
Off among the trama roots and scathecraw leaves was a Riekling, a charger from his horned headdress. His mount was nowhere to be seen. There were tear marks on the goblin's tattooed face
"Itaka!" The Riekling shouted and gestured with a spear drawn from a quiver on his back. From the surrounding plants and ruined buildings emerged more Rieklings. And then more.
And then even more.
Glover lost count at fifty. He glanced at Farri, who was squared up to fight despite being in a breechcloth, armed with a glowing dagger he had to have somewhere uncomfortable.
Only some of the Rieklings focused on them, the rest went past them to get at town.
As he drew his dagger, he remembered Delvin telling him life on the frontier was boring.
---
Who else wondered how Raven Rock would fair if the hundred plus Rieklings on the western coast went down and poked their Bulwark-free side? Find out next time!
Oof. Leaving survivors biting poor Farri. Understandable, though. Killing an opponent that isn't fighting back isn't great either.
I like the politicking here. Really getting the duplicitous nature of most powerful organizations in Tamriel down. Feels like a Morrowind quest, almost. Great stuff.
I like the politicking here. Really getting the duplicitous nature of most powerful organizations in Tamriel down. Feels like a Morrowind quest, almost. Great stuff.
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
Sometimes leaving survivors works. Sometimes it doesn't. They struck first, but they probably don't care -- grief does that to people. Lil' Gobbos more than most, because they have such short lives.
Very true, but when no form of communication is possible or wanted things get ugly fast.
Farri's Journal #2
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
Codex: Farri's Journal Entry 2.
---
Alright, so. Northshore Landing and Glacial Cave are both going to be problems. My magic tells me the Glacial Cave has two distinct, and rich, malachite veins. My magic confirmed what Valin's journal says about that vein. They're both far north, and too far from my power base to secure.
The Thalmor are going to be up there, and if they send anyone with basic divination magics, they'll know about those veins too. I suppose they don't, though. Because if they did, they'd know about the stahlrim source not too far away or the pieces on that iceberg nearby.
I kinda want to pull that iceberg south to Raven Rock -- if I can figure out how to spread stahlrim, having four mineable sources would be a good starting point.
But that's in the future. I have to get that damn book first.
Zahkriisos is the weakest dragon priest in the region, that's what I have in my favor. What I don't have in my favor is all the Draugr between him and me. Nenya isn't a good enough fighter to win against so many, and neither am I.
Maybe I'll hire Teldryn once we can turn this gold into coin. I'm writing this while I wait for Arano to come back from his meal at the Netch. The look on his face will be priceless.
I Clairvoyance'd any books in Morvayn Manor that contain references to the Northshore vein and there's none. But Redorans keep pretty good records, else I wouldn't have been busted for taking a damn doll out of their trash.
Fuckers.
I can't remember my parents very well, I realize now. I think my mom was a shoe-maker? I remember her measuring my feet and giving me some sandals when I was young. They were... okay, I guess? If I decide to go to Blacklight, maybe I'll look them up if I can remember their names.
...No. I don't want to do that. They'll be upset enough without looking at me as I am now.
The body scars are nice, they make my gang think I'm way tougher than I am. I could live with them. But, my eye, my ear... the Khajiiti culture I remember tells me I'm ugly now.
I don't like being ugly.
Even if I get a falsie, like I'm planning to, there's so much scar tissue around my eye -- and regular healing potions aren't helping. I probably need a regeneration potion.
Every one of those I make, I have to give to the gang because -- surprise -- they have a lot of untreated injuries that need fixing. J'Saddha had fucking detached retinas in both eyes for Sangiin's sake.
Oh. That's something I just remembered about my family. We were Sangiin worshippers. My dad had a staff that... in hindsight looked an awful lot like the Rose. Huh. If I run into Sangiin in the Netch, I'll ask him. Does Sam spawn in the Netch? I can't remember -- I used to always hang out in Whiterun.
Oop, mer of the hour approaches. Forgot to do the hot guy list -- next time!
---
---
Alright, so. Northshore Landing and Glacial Cave are both going to be problems. My magic tells me the Glacial Cave has two distinct, and rich, malachite veins. My magic confirmed what Valin's journal says about that vein. They're both far north, and too far from my power base to secure.
The Thalmor are going to be up there, and if they send anyone with basic divination magics, they'll know about those veins too. I suppose they don't, though. Because if they did, they'd know about the stahlrim source not too far away or the pieces on that iceberg nearby.
I kinda want to pull that iceberg south to Raven Rock -- if I can figure out how to spread stahlrim, having four mineable sources would be a good starting point.
But that's in the future. I have to get that damn book first.
Zahkriisos is the weakest dragon priest in the region, that's what I have in my favor. What I don't have in my favor is all the Draugr between him and me. Nenya isn't a good enough fighter to win against so many, and neither am I.
Maybe I'll hire Teldryn once we can turn this gold into coin. I'm writing this while I wait for Arano to come back from his meal at the Netch. The look on his face will be priceless.
I Clairvoyance'd any books in Morvayn Manor that contain references to the Northshore vein and there's none. But Redorans keep pretty good records, else I wouldn't have been busted for taking a damn doll out of their trash.
Fuckers.
I can't remember my parents very well, I realize now. I think my mom was a shoe-maker? I remember her measuring my feet and giving me some sandals when I was young. They were... okay, I guess? If I decide to go to Blacklight, maybe I'll look them up if I can remember their names.
...No. I don't want to do that. They'll be upset enough without looking at me as I am now.
The body scars are nice, they make my gang think I'm way tougher than I am. I could live with them. But, my eye, my ear... the Khajiiti culture I remember tells me I'm ugly now.
I don't like being ugly.
Even if I get a falsie, like I'm planning to, there's so much scar tissue around my eye -- and regular healing potions aren't helping. I probably need a regeneration potion.
Every one of those I make, I have to give to the gang because -- surprise -- they have a lot of untreated injuries that need fixing. J'Saddha had fucking detached retinas in both eyes for Sangiin's sake.
Oh. That's something I just remembered about my family. We were Sangiin worshippers. My dad had a staff that... in hindsight looked an awful lot like the Rose. Huh. If I run into Sangiin in the Netch, I'll ask him. Does Sam spawn in the Netch? I can't remember -- I used to always hang out in Whiterun.
Oop, mer of the hour approaches. Forgot to do the hot guy list -- next time!
---
Ch 8
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
Chapter Eight: Souls Lamenting
---
Raven Rock
Reaver Briras
Briras and Zahshur had been hard at work bringing in ash yams they'd collected from outside the Bulwark. Batches of the things had grown wild since the Attius farm was abandoned, which they brought back in baskets.
"Once we're paid, I can start getting the equipment to brew some alcohol from these," Zahshur told Briras as they set the last two baskets in the storeroom. "I'll have to send orders off to Blacklight for the glass and copper components -- the specifications have to be exact."
Briras crossed his arms and looked down at the bulbous ash yams. "How difficult can it be to turn these ash yams into something you can drink? Sujamma is sujamma, right?"
The elder Dunmer made a face, like Briras had vacated his bowels all over the floor. "It isn't difficult to make sujamma, no. It's difficult to make great sujamma, though." He sighed, and shook his head. "And expensive. That's how I went into debt with Mogrul -- I don't know how Geldis keeps his doors open."
Briras shrugged. "Well, he does also sell regular foo -- "
A shrill trilling noise sounded through the mine stopped their conversation and sent both men running for the armory. The boss had taken an old flute and used magic to make a whistle from it -- which he gave to J'Saddha to warn them of raids.
Briras didn't know if the Redoran Guard were about to hit them, and he didn't care. As soon as he and the rest of the gang got to the armory, and Rudrasa unlocked the door, he went straight for his bow and quiver. He wasn't going out into the ashlands again -- he'd die first.
As a courtesy, he grabbed J'Saddha's mace too and hauled ass -- a colorful term the boss passed on -- to the main door. J'Saddha held it open and blew on the whistle again, to get everyone else to hurry up. Briras tossed the large Khajiit his weapon as he got through the door.
A small blue-skinned creature, a Riekling, about the boss' height, was on the other side with a stone spear ready to stab him. Fortunately momentum was with Briras, so he did was any sensible person would do.
"Eat leather, muskarse!" He kicked the Riekling in the face as hard as he could. Once it was on the ground, he stomped on it many times in the face and neck.
When he looked up, there were four more Rieklings on the path to the mine, all with facial expressions that indicated violence would result.
He was hard at work delivering arrows to them like eager customers. 'Please, please!' they cried in Briras' mind. 'Arrows for me! For me!' And dutifully, Briras gave them arrows.
Perhaps, he reflected, he shouldn't have swiped a chunk of the boss' moon sugar out of the alchemy room.
Still, he gave arrows out like candy until Hakar joined him, and the rest of the gang followed shortly thereafter. Rudrasa, Elam, and Nenya led the charge against the Rieklings as they fought their way down the path to the town.
Rieklings were all over, they had gotten into houses and storefronts -- many were properly annoyed by the amount of empty buildings. There were dead Dunmer in the square -- they arrived just in time to watch a Redoran Guard fall as he was mobbed by the bastards.
Nelos joined Hakar and Briras -- he delivered bolts of fire and lightning to kill or injure Rieklings with an archer's accuracy. They remained elevated, so that they could pick off any Rieklings which aimed to flank the gang.
Briras' eye caught something, several Rieklings swarmed around a building -- where a warrior in chitin armor fought alongside a woman made of fire. Alas, there were two many -- the woman fell first, and exploded in a blast of flame that washed over her ally and the Rieklings. The warrior fell soon after, a spear in the chest.
Briras fired arrows off at the Rieklings as they rushed inside -- his internal map told him that was the Netch! Rieklings in the Retching Netch!
"Where's the boss?" Hakar shouted, before he loosed an arrow at a Riekling warboar. "He was in town!"
Briras was focused on the Netch, he didn't look very much. But then he saw a torrent of white-hot flame as long as a cargo ship devour an entire group of Rieklings by the blacksmith's forge. "My guess?" He pointed with an arrow before he fired it off. "Over there."
Arrows and spells were handed out with gusto, while below them Raven Rock fought for her life. With the sky darkened by ash-clouds, the battle took on a grey hue. Blue Rieklings and grey-blue Dunmer fought and died.
When the last Riekling fell, there was no cheer of victory. Briras, Hakar, and Nelos went down into the town to join the gang as they walked over dozens of small blue bodies. Sometimes, a larger blue-grey body.
"Mirri!"
Briras looked to the west where a mer in quilted noble's clothes -- and a stylish hat -- held a young woman's body in his arms. He tried to slap her face gently, as if to wake her, and shook her when it didn't work. She was dead -- her neck torn open. There was an ebony dagger clutched in her hand, with blood on the blade. She had fought for her home, and lost.
"Mirri, come back!" The poor mer was distraught, weeping and begging. "Come back -- don't leave! Azura!" He shouted to the heavens, as loud as his lungs could muster. "Azura, please! My… my daughter. Please, Azura! Anything I have, everything!" He looked down, and clutched the corpse to his chest. "Bring her back, please…." Those were the words of a broken man.
An older woman, presumably his wife, let out a shriek of grief and pain as she walked around the corner near them.
It was a story that Briras had seen before -- in Senchal, when the Thalmor came. And it played out on the streets of Raven Rock again. As more Dunmer bodies were found -- their surviving relatives or friends would begin their own lamentations.
There was nothing Briras could do for them, other than to help move the Riekling bodies out of town. His action set the example for the gang -- they began to gather Riekling bodies and pile them up outside of town.
He noticed the boss approach them in just his breechcloth shortly after the pile began to grow substantial. "Injuries?" He asked the gang with his hands on his hips.
"Minimal," Nenya answered for them. "Elam got bit by a boar, Meerana got kicked. A couple shallow stab wounds here and there otherwise. The fuck your clothes go?"
"There's just something about fighting Rieklings that makes this one want to get naked." The boss' delivery was flat. Flat enough to chop vegetables on. Word vegetables.
It had definitely been a bad idea to steal that moon sugar chunk.
"Anyway. Keep on this. Khajiit will go and get potions to help injured people." The boss looked them over. "You all fought well. It would have been easy to just defend the mine and let the town burn."
Which made Briras feel a twinge of regret. He and the gang explicitly wanted revenge on House Redoran. They could have gotten that by doing as the boss said they could've. By saving Raven Rock, they actively went against their aim of revenge.
At the time, that hadn't entered his line of thinking at all. He hadn't thought 'oh, here is a chance to get revenge', but 'oh, these guys are attacking our home'. He hadn't been in Raven Rock but a week, and already it was 'home' again.
The boss had finished his speech to them and gone up to the mine -- all without Briras' active awareness. He only came too when Zahshur cuffed him in the back of the head to get back to work.
--
Raven Rock
Second Councilor Arano
Adril had nightmares about situations like the Riekling raid. He'd dismissed them as unorganized and undisciplined. He'd rationalized them as unwilling to travel far south, they couldn't bear the ashy air. But their sheer numbers haunted him.
And his fears were justified at last. As much as he hated to admit it, Farri's reavers had been instrumental in the town's defense. They were disciplined, had a mage's support, and they were quick to respond to threats.
As Adril looked over the veiled corpses of eleven Redoran Guard, he lamented that last point more than any. The Guard was strong, disciplined, but sluggish. Their bonemould armor had protected them until they were swarmed, and the Rieklings could find where the gaps in their armor were.
The bodies were laid out with the corpses of civilians they'd lost along the Bulwark causeway. Mostly, workers at the Ienth farm or off-shift miners from Highpoint Tower filled out civilian deaths. But some people he knew personally had been lost.
Geldis Sadri, the owner of the Retching Netch. Killed by a Riekling spear in his neck. Teldryn Sero, a sellsword who guarded the Netch in between jobs -- dead from being mobbed by Rieklings. Slitter, another sellsword, in Mogrul's employ as a bodyguard -- had his chest torn open by a bristleback boar. And poor Mirri Serevin, died saving her father.
Adril stood stoic as the lamentations of the grieving echoed from the town below. One by one, bodies were taken from the Bulwark by the remaining four Redoran Guard for hasty funeral services.
He turned away from the line of bodies and looked down to see the Serevin family in the temple courtyard. Vendil Serevin, the patriarch, leaned on his wife Tilisu while he wept. Tilisu's face was just as wet, Adril's keen eye could see it even from afar, but she had to be the strong one with Vendil shattered by their daughter's death.
Adril took his eyes off the grieving couple and down to the streets. There the prominently mustached farmer, Garyn Ienth, laid into Captain Veleth with heartbroken fervor.
"I told you the west side of town was exposed! I told you!" Screamed the farmer.
Garyn was right, Adril realized and buried his face in his hands. When the mines had been strong, they had more than enough gold to build a wall on the western side. But it hadn't seemed like a pressing issue back then. And then the mines dried up, and their excess funding with it.
Adril desperately wished he could slap his past self in the face.
Footsteps nearby made him lift his head. His old friend, his superior in House Redoran, First Councilor Lleril Morvayn approached him with his face pale. "Adril," he said, like he was stunned. "How did this happen?"
"The attack seemed to start at Glover Mallory's home -- he and the reaver gang's leader were the first people on the streets the Rieklings saw," Adril answered, monotone. "The rest is fairly self-evident."
"No -- how did this happen?" Lleril swept his arm to indicate the veiled bodies. "Adril, we've lost so many people -- so many Redoran Guard… I don't know how we come back from this."
"We don't, most likely." Adril hated every word he said in that vein, but there was no other counsel he could give. "We've lost all but four Redoran Guard -- that's not enough to guard you, let alone the town. We've lost most of our farmers, Garyn and Milore can't grow enough food to support us just on their own." He squared his shoulders and met his friend's eyes.
Desperate disbelief met grim certainty.
"We have passed the point of no return, First Councilor." Adril tried to keep his tone professional, but he was tired. Almost twenty years of slow death had caught up with them. "We don't have enough food. We don't have enough men. House Redoran will not provide additional resources -- and even if they did, we don't have any way to prevent this happening again."
He hadn't hid any of Raven Rock's troubles from Lleril over the hundred and thirty years of his rule. For most of it, the times had been good. Lleril had been a compassionate and responsive ruler. But the past twenty years had… sucked away all the progress they'd made over the prior hundred and ten.
Lleril turned away and walked to the edge of the causeway. He looked out over the town, stunned. "Almost a century and a half, Adril," he said and gestured at the town. "And… this is how it ends?"
"How you're feeling now, is how House Dres felt when they had to abandon Tear. And House Telvanni when they abandoned Sadrith Mora." Adril tried to keep his tone soft, as a gesture of sympathy for his friend. He was tired, but not heartless. "There was no shame in those withdrawals, and there is none here." He stepped forward and put his hand on Lleril's shoulder in a gesture of support. "We did our best, First Councilor."
Lleril did not feel the same, it showed on his face. He was the Councilor, and the act of withdrawal would bring rumors and accusations for the rest of his life. But he took a deep breath and steeled his features. "Do we have enough food to last us until a ship comes?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Then we have no choice." He pushed off the wall and turned to look eastward. "We need to ask Neloth to open a portal, then."
The thought of dealing with that arrogant fetcher soured Adril's expression for a few minutes. But Lleril was right. "Are we… ceding the island to House Telvanni, then?"
"...I don't know. We need to inter our dead, first. I need… need to check what we have to offer Neloth to get him to assist us." The First Councilor wiped his face with his hands. "...I should be up here, paying respects to the men and women who died for us."
"But you know I can do enough of that for both of us." Adril stood as straight as he could. "So, go. Check our stores and ledgers. I've documented everything of note."
Lleril nodded and went to the stairs that would take him down into the temple courtyard, then out to the streets. The riskiest route, but there were no truly safe roads in Raven Rock anymore. The dead Redoran Guard and the pile of burning Rieklings on the other side of town were evidence enough of that.
Adril was lost in thought about what they could offer Neloth to open a portal when he heard shouting. As he turned, he saw Vendil Serevin with his hands around Lleril's neck. In seconds Adril had his sword drawn and was on the move.
"Ten years! Ten years of our lives! And your incompetence ruins it all!" Vendil snarled with utmost hatred. The two wrestled until Adril and Captain Veleth were able to pull them apart, with Vendil desperate to get at Lleril again. "Your wretched town ruined my family! I'll get you! I'll squeeze the life out of your bones!"
Adril tried to be patient as he held Vendil at bay with his sword while Veleth got the Councilor to safety. He wanted to show mercy, but he also had duties. "Vendil," he said, slow, patient. "I'm sure the Councilor will forgive that, given your loss today. But bite your tongue, before it costs you your head. Go home. Now."
Tilisu came up beside the fuming Vendil and gently led him away. She looked so tired. Like how Adril had felt.
He watched them walk back to the far side of town, where their manor lay near the burning Riekling pile. As they walked, Vendil began to lose his rage and crumble again. More than once, Tilisu had to pick him up from the road, as he'd broken down weeping again. Neither of them were old by the standards of mer, they could always have another child.
But it wouldn't dull the loss of their firstborn, a daughter they had clearly loved and raised well. In that moment, Adril was glad the Good Daedra hadn't blessed him and his wife with a child yet. He couldn't bear the thought of such agony.
--
Retching Netch
Reaver Zahshur
While there were plenty dead, there were even more wounded. The Netch, once cleared of furniture, became an infirmary where the boss and Milore Ienth provided medicine. Zahshur and other members of the gang were called on to help keep the peace and repair particularly bad injuries.
Such as mending Mogrul's broken leg -- all while the fetcher swore bloody vengeance on their families.
Zuhshan and Rudrasa kep the Orc's limbs still while the boss poured sujamma on the wounds Mogrul had taken around the break. To Zahshur's eyes, the boar that had gutted Mogrul's bodyguard had stood on the Orc while they did it. Lots of deep hoof prints and gashes.
"Khajiit will distract him, you set bone, yes no?" The boss whispered to Milore -- the farmer's wife, and alchemist of Raven Rock. Once she nodded, the boss moved to the Orc's face and slapped him lightly to get his attention. "Excuse, please? Good news -- bristleback only ate one of your testicles."
Mogrul froze, his eyes locked on Farri. "What?" The Orc's first non-threatening question was filled with utter bewilderment. A moment later, there was a sharp crack, which preceded Mogrul's face turning bloody red -- and a fresh round of threats.
"Oops," Farri shrugged with a whimsical smile. "Khajiit must have mistaken you for someone else." He then scooted down to help apply bandages soaked in healing potion with Milore.
Zahshur smiled at the loanshark's pain -- Mogrul had a hand in making most of the gang bandits, it felt good to get back at him even as they helped him. He glanced at Rudrasa and saw only contempt for the Orc on her face.
Once the boss sedated Mogrul with some medicine, they were able to move on to other patients. Fortunately, between the boss and Milore, there was enough medicine to go around.
Drovas, the Netch's cook, provided the boss with some of Geldis' clothes since the barkeeper wouldn't need them anymore. Some adjustments had to be made for size and tail space, but the boss' magic sorted that out.
"You alright?" Rudrasa asked him while they waited for the boss to call on them for another troublesome patient. "Geldis' spot in the quick funerals should be coming up. You can probably go, and be back, before we're needed."
"I have no right to be at his funeral," Zahshur answered her with a neutral tone. "He stopped being my apprentice and started being his own man long ago. We haven't spoken in almost fifty years." He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. Everywhere in the tavern were people on bedrolls or improvised cots. Just barely in his vision was the bloodsplashed column where Geldis had met his end.
Geldis had been a boy when his parents set up the apprenticeship. Those had been better times, when the ebony was plenty and the gold even moreso. He'd been so chaotic, and Zahshur had to fight for every bit of discipline he taught the boy. One improperly made dish could kill someone, one improperly brewed drink could ruin his reputation.
"You looked after him like he was your own for twenty years," Rudrasa responded with her usual 'you're being stupid' tone. "Hell -- you tried to help his folks out with arrangin' a marriage."
Like ghosts of the past, come back to life, memories played out before Zahshur's eyes. Lessons about sujamma preparation, scoldings, and helping the lad deal with the loss of his parents from miner's lung. His gaze had never left the bloody column, he realized after a moment.
"He's not my son," the old mer said after a lengthy pause. "Not my kin. I have no right to mourn him." He had to physical hold back the crack in his voice -- moisture in his eyes. Weeping for a mer he hadn't spoken to in half a century was unseemly.
Rudrasa narrowed her eyes at him and thinned her mouth to a barely-there line. "Boss!" She called out, without looking away from Zahshur.
As the boss came over, Zahshur rapidly blinked and tried to drag his eyes away from the column.
"Khajiit is here," the cat in Geldis' clothes said as he looked up at them. "Something the matter?"
"This sodding bastard," Rudrasa shoved Zashur's shoulder, "knew one of the people who died here. Won't go to his funeral, for stupid reasons."
"Boss, I -- " Zahshur managed to look away from the column where Geldis died to meet the boss' lonely eye. When he started to speak, the cat cut him off with a raised hand.
Without a word or a blink, the Khajiit pointed to the stairs.
"Boss, I'm needed here -- "
Farri snapped his fingers with the same hand that pointed to the stairs. The boss' face was set in stone.
Under their combined scrutiny, Zahshur pushed off the wall and ambled his way to the stairs, then toward the Netch's door.
He supposed Geldis deserved to hear 'goodbye' from someone who knew him, at least.
---
The Battle of the Boars: In the year 4E 200, a mob of one hundred thirty-five Rieklings and fourteen war boars attacked Raven Rock from the western side. They ran roughshod over the settlement, reducing the civilian population to just twenty-five. Only four Redoran Guard survived the battle, due to the Rieklings dogpiling them until they suffocated or were stabbed to death. A recently-pardoned gang of reavers provided much-needed aid to the town. The gang's leader used odd magic to slay the Riekling chiefs and broke what little discipline the attacking force had which resulted in a rout.
NPCs dead: Geldis Sadri, Teldryn Sero, Slitter, Mirri Serevin.
---
Raven Rock
Reaver Briras
Briras and Zahshur had been hard at work bringing in ash yams they'd collected from outside the Bulwark. Batches of the things had grown wild since the Attius farm was abandoned, which they brought back in baskets.
"Once we're paid, I can start getting the equipment to brew some alcohol from these," Zahshur told Briras as they set the last two baskets in the storeroom. "I'll have to send orders off to Blacklight for the glass and copper components -- the specifications have to be exact."
Briras crossed his arms and looked down at the bulbous ash yams. "How difficult can it be to turn these ash yams into something you can drink? Sujamma is sujamma, right?"
The elder Dunmer made a face, like Briras had vacated his bowels all over the floor. "It isn't difficult to make sujamma, no. It's difficult to make great sujamma, though." He sighed, and shook his head. "And expensive. That's how I went into debt with Mogrul -- I don't know how Geldis keeps his doors open."
Briras shrugged. "Well, he does also sell regular foo -- "
A shrill trilling noise sounded through the mine stopped their conversation and sent both men running for the armory. The boss had taken an old flute and used magic to make a whistle from it -- which he gave to J'Saddha to warn them of raids.
Briras didn't know if the Redoran Guard were about to hit them, and he didn't care. As soon as he and the rest of the gang got to the armory, and Rudrasa unlocked the door, he went straight for his bow and quiver. He wasn't going out into the ashlands again -- he'd die first.
As a courtesy, he grabbed J'Saddha's mace too and hauled ass -- a colorful term the boss passed on -- to the main door. J'Saddha held it open and blew on the whistle again, to get everyone else to hurry up. Briras tossed the large Khajiit his weapon as he got through the door.
A small blue-skinned creature, a Riekling, about the boss' height, was on the other side with a stone spear ready to stab him. Fortunately momentum was with Briras, so he did was any sensible person would do.
"Eat leather, muskarse!" He kicked the Riekling in the face as hard as he could. Once it was on the ground, he stomped on it many times in the face and neck.
When he looked up, there were four more Rieklings on the path to the mine, all with facial expressions that indicated violence would result.
He was hard at work delivering arrows to them like eager customers. 'Please, please!' they cried in Briras' mind. 'Arrows for me! For me!' And dutifully, Briras gave them arrows.
Perhaps, he reflected, he shouldn't have swiped a chunk of the boss' moon sugar out of the alchemy room.
Still, he gave arrows out like candy until Hakar joined him, and the rest of the gang followed shortly thereafter. Rudrasa, Elam, and Nenya led the charge against the Rieklings as they fought their way down the path to the town.
Rieklings were all over, they had gotten into houses and storefronts -- many were properly annoyed by the amount of empty buildings. There were dead Dunmer in the square -- they arrived just in time to watch a Redoran Guard fall as he was mobbed by the bastards.
Nelos joined Hakar and Briras -- he delivered bolts of fire and lightning to kill or injure Rieklings with an archer's accuracy. They remained elevated, so that they could pick off any Rieklings which aimed to flank the gang.
Briras' eye caught something, several Rieklings swarmed around a building -- where a warrior in chitin armor fought alongside a woman made of fire. Alas, there were two many -- the woman fell first, and exploded in a blast of flame that washed over her ally and the Rieklings. The warrior fell soon after, a spear in the chest.
Briras fired arrows off at the Rieklings as they rushed inside -- his internal map told him that was the Netch! Rieklings in the Retching Netch!
"Where's the boss?" Hakar shouted, before he loosed an arrow at a Riekling warboar. "He was in town!"
Briras was focused on the Netch, he didn't look very much. But then he saw a torrent of white-hot flame as long as a cargo ship devour an entire group of Rieklings by the blacksmith's forge. "My guess?" He pointed with an arrow before he fired it off. "Over there."
Arrows and spells were handed out with gusto, while below them Raven Rock fought for her life. With the sky darkened by ash-clouds, the battle took on a grey hue. Blue Rieklings and grey-blue Dunmer fought and died.
When the last Riekling fell, there was no cheer of victory. Briras, Hakar, and Nelos went down into the town to join the gang as they walked over dozens of small blue bodies. Sometimes, a larger blue-grey body.
"Mirri!"
Briras looked to the west where a mer in quilted noble's clothes -- and a stylish hat -- held a young woman's body in his arms. He tried to slap her face gently, as if to wake her, and shook her when it didn't work. She was dead -- her neck torn open. There was an ebony dagger clutched in her hand, with blood on the blade. She had fought for her home, and lost.
"Mirri, come back!" The poor mer was distraught, weeping and begging. "Come back -- don't leave! Azura!" He shouted to the heavens, as loud as his lungs could muster. "Azura, please! My… my daughter. Please, Azura! Anything I have, everything!" He looked down, and clutched the corpse to his chest. "Bring her back, please…." Those were the words of a broken man.
An older woman, presumably his wife, let out a shriek of grief and pain as she walked around the corner near them.
It was a story that Briras had seen before -- in Senchal, when the Thalmor came. And it played out on the streets of Raven Rock again. As more Dunmer bodies were found -- their surviving relatives or friends would begin their own lamentations.
There was nothing Briras could do for them, other than to help move the Riekling bodies out of town. His action set the example for the gang -- they began to gather Riekling bodies and pile them up outside of town.
He noticed the boss approach them in just his breechcloth shortly after the pile began to grow substantial. "Injuries?" He asked the gang with his hands on his hips.
"Minimal," Nenya answered for them. "Elam got bit by a boar, Meerana got kicked. A couple shallow stab wounds here and there otherwise. The fuck your clothes go?"
"There's just something about fighting Rieklings that makes this one want to get naked." The boss' delivery was flat. Flat enough to chop vegetables on. Word vegetables.
It had definitely been a bad idea to steal that moon sugar chunk.
"Anyway. Keep on this. Khajiit will go and get potions to help injured people." The boss looked them over. "You all fought well. It would have been easy to just defend the mine and let the town burn."
Which made Briras feel a twinge of regret. He and the gang explicitly wanted revenge on House Redoran. They could have gotten that by doing as the boss said they could've. By saving Raven Rock, they actively went against their aim of revenge.
At the time, that hadn't entered his line of thinking at all. He hadn't thought 'oh, here is a chance to get revenge', but 'oh, these guys are attacking our home'. He hadn't been in Raven Rock but a week, and already it was 'home' again.
The boss had finished his speech to them and gone up to the mine -- all without Briras' active awareness. He only came too when Zahshur cuffed him in the back of the head to get back to work.
--
Raven Rock
Second Councilor Arano
Adril had nightmares about situations like the Riekling raid. He'd dismissed them as unorganized and undisciplined. He'd rationalized them as unwilling to travel far south, they couldn't bear the ashy air. But their sheer numbers haunted him.
And his fears were justified at last. As much as he hated to admit it, Farri's reavers had been instrumental in the town's defense. They were disciplined, had a mage's support, and they were quick to respond to threats.
As Adril looked over the veiled corpses of eleven Redoran Guard, he lamented that last point more than any. The Guard was strong, disciplined, but sluggish. Their bonemould armor had protected them until they were swarmed, and the Rieklings could find where the gaps in their armor were.
The bodies were laid out with the corpses of civilians they'd lost along the Bulwark causeway. Mostly, workers at the Ienth farm or off-shift miners from Highpoint Tower filled out civilian deaths. But some people he knew personally had been lost.
Geldis Sadri, the owner of the Retching Netch. Killed by a Riekling spear in his neck. Teldryn Sero, a sellsword who guarded the Netch in between jobs -- dead from being mobbed by Rieklings. Slitter, another sellsword, in Mogrul's employ as a bodyguard -- had his chest torn open by a bristleback boar. And poor Mirri Serevin, died saving her father.
Adril stood stoic as the lamentations of the grieving echoed from the town below. One by one, bodies were taken from the Bulwark by the remaining four Redoran Guard for hasty funeral services.
He turned away from the line of bodies and looked down to see the Serevin family in the temple courtyard. Vendil Serevin, the patriarch, leaned on his wife Tilisu while he wept. Tilisu's face was just as wet, Adril's keen eye could see it even from afar, but she had to be the strong one with Vendil shattered by their daughter's death.
Adril took his eyes off the grieving couple and down to the streets. There the prominently mustached farmer, Garyn Ienth, laid into Captain Veleth with heartbroken fervor.
"I told you the west side of town was exposed! I told you!" Screamed the farmer.
Garyn was right, Adril realized and buried his face in his hands. When the mines had been strong, they had more than enough gold to build a wall on the western side. But it hadn't seemed like a pressing issue back then. And then the mines dried up, and their excess funding with it.
Adril desperately wished he could slap his past self in the face.
Footsteps nearby made him lift his head. His old friend, his superior in House Redoran, First Councilor Lleril Morvayn approached him with his face pale. "Adril," he said, like he was stunned. "How did this happen?"
"The attack seemed to start at Glover Mallory's home -- he and the reaver gang's leader were the first people on the streets the Rieklings saw," Adril answered, monotone. "The rest is fairly self-evident."
"No -- how did this happen?" Lleril swept his arm to indicate the veiled bodies. "Adril, we've lost so many people -- so many Redoran Guard… I don't know how we come back from this."
"We don't, most likely." Adril hated every word he said in that vein, but there was no other counsel he could give. "We've lost all but four Redoran Guard -- that's not enough to guard you, let alone the town. We've lost most of our farmers, Garyn and Milore can't grow enough food to support us just on their own." He squared his shoulders and met his friend's eyes.
Desperate disbelief met grim certainty.
"We have passed the point of no return, First Councilor." Adril tried to keep his tone professional, but he was tired. Almost twenty years of slow death had caught up with them. "We don't have enough food. We don't have enough men. House Redoran will not provide additional resources -- and even if they did, we don't have any way to prevent this happening again."
He hadn't hid any of Raven Rock's troubles from Lleril over the hundred and thirty years of his rule. For most of it, the times had been good. Lleril had been a compassionate and responsive ruler. But the past twenty years had… sucked away all the progress they'd made over the prior hundred and ten.
Lleril turned away and walked to the edge of the causeway. He looked out over the town, stunned. "Almost a century and a half, Adril," he said and gestured at the town. "And… this is how it ends?"
"How you're feeling now, is how House Dres felt when they had to abandon Tear. And House Telvanni when they abandoned Sadrith Mora." Adril tried to keep his tone soft, as a gesture of sympathy for his friend. He was tired, but not heartless. "There was no shame in those withdrawals, and there is none here." He stepped forward and put his hand on Lleril's shoulder in a gesture of support. "We did our best, First Councilor."
Lleril did not feel the same, it showed on his face. He was the Councilor, and the act of withdrawal would bring rumors and accusations for the rest of his life. But he took a deep breath and steeled his features. "Do we have enough food to last us until a ship comes?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Then we have no choice." He pushed off the wall and turned to look eastward. "We need to ask Neloth to open a portal, then."
The thought of dealing with that arrogant fetcher soured Adril's expression for a few minutes. But Lleril was right. "Are we… ceding the island to House Telvanni, then?"
"...I don't know. We need to inter our dead, first. I need… need to check what we have to offer Neloth to get him to assist us." The First Councilor wiped his face with his hands. "...I should be up here, paying respects to the men and women who died for us."
"But you know I can do enough of that for both of us." Adril stood as straight as he could. "So, go. Check our stores and ledgers. I've documented everything of note."
Lleril nodded and went to the stairs that would take him down into the temple courtyard, then out to the streets. The riskiest route, but there were no truly safe roads in Raven Rock anymore. The dead Redoran Guard and the pile of burning Rieklings on the other side of town were evidence enough of that.
Adril was lost in thought about what they could offer Neloth to open a portal when he heard shouting. As he turned, he saw Vendil Serevin with his hands around Lleril's neck. In seconds Adril had his sword drawn and was on the move.
"Ten years! Ten years of our lives! And your incompetence ruins it all!" Vendil snarled with utmost hatred. The two wrestled until Adril and Captain Veleth were able to pull them apart, with Vendil desperate to get at Lleril again. "Your wretched town ruined my family! I'll get you! I'll squeeze the life out of your bones!"
Adril tried to be patient as he held Vendil at bay with his sword while Veleth got the Councilor to safety. He wanted to show mercy, but he also had duties. "Vendil," he said, slow, patient. "I'm sure the Councilor will forgive that, given your loss today. But bite your tongue, before it costs you your head. Go home. Now."
Tilisu came up beside the fuming Vendil and gently led him away. She looked so tired. Like how Adril had felt.
He watched them walk back to the far side of town, where their manor lay near the burning Riekling pile. As they walked, Vendil began to lose his rage and crumble again. More than once, Tilisu had to pick him up from the road, as he'd broken down weeping again. Neither of them were old by the standards of mer, they could always have another child.
But it wouldn't dull the loss of their firstborn, a daughter they had clearly loved and raised well. In that moment, Adril was glad the Good Daedra hadn't blessed him and his wife with a child yet. He couldn't bear the thought of such agony.
--
Retching Netch
Reaver Zahshur
While there were plenty dead, there were even more wounded. The Netch, once cleared of furniture, became an infirmary where the boss and Milore Ienth provided medicine. Zahshur and other members of the gang were called on to help keep the peace and repair particularly bad injuries.
Such as mending Mogrul's broken leg -- all while the fetcher swore bloody vengeance on their families.
Zuhshan and Rudrasa kep the Orc's limbs still while the boss poured sujamma on the wounds Mogrul had taken around the break. To Zahshur's eyes, the boar that had gutted Mogrul's bodyguard had stood on the Orc while they did it. Lots of deep hoof prints and gashes.
"Khajiit will distract him, you set bone, yes no?" The boss whispered to Milore -- the farmer's wife, and alchemist of Raven Rock. Once she nodded, the boss moved to the Orc's face and slapped him lightly to get his attention. "Excuse, please? Good news -- bristleback only ate one of your testicles."
Mogrul froze, his eyes locked on Farri. "What?" The Orc's first non-threatening question was filled with utter bewilderment. A moment later, there was a sharp crack, which preceded Mogrul's face turning bloody red -- and a fresh round of threats.
"Oops," Farri shrugged with a whimsical smile. "Khajiit must have mistaken you for someone else." He then scooted down to help apply bandages soaked in healing potion with Milore.
Zahshur smiled at the loanshark's pain -- Mogrul had a hand in making most of the gang bandits, it felt good to get back at him even as they helped him. He glanced at Rudrasa and saw only contempt for the Orc on her face.
Once the boss sedated Mogrul with some medicine, they were able to move on to other patients. Fortunately, between the boss and Milore, there was enough medicine to go around.
Drovas, the Netch's cook, provided the boss with some of Geldis' clothes since the barkeeper wouldn't need them anymore. Some adjustments had to be made for size and tail space, but the boss' magic sorted that out.
"You alright?" Rudrasa asked him while they waited for the boss to call on them for another troublesome patient. "Geldis' spot in the quick funerals should be coming up. You can probably go, and be back, before we're needed."
"I have no right to be at his funeral," Zahshur answered her with a neutral tone. "He stopped being my apprentice and started being his own man long ago. We haven't spoken in almost fifty years." He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. Everywhere in the tavern were people on bedrolls or improvised cots. Just barely in his vision was the bloodsplashed column where Geldis had met his end.
Geldis had been a boy when his parents set up the apprenticeship. Those had been better times, when the ebony was plenty and the gold even moreso. He'd been so chaotic, and Zahshur had to fight for every bit of discipline he taught the boy. One improperly made dish could kill someone, one improperly brewed drink could ruin his reputation.
"You looked after him like he was your own for twenty years," Rudrasa responded with her usual 'you're being stupid' tone. "Hell -- you tried to help his folks out with arrangin' a marriage."
Like ghosts of the past, come back to life, memories played out before Zahshur's eyes. Lessons about sujamma preparation, scoldings, and helping the lad deal with the loss of his parents from miner's lung. His gaze had never left the bloody column, he realized after a moment.
"He's not my son," the old mer said after a lengthy pause. "Not my kin. I have no right to mourn him." He had to physical hold back the crack in his voice -- moisture in his eyes. Weeping for a mer he hadn't spoken to in half a century was unseemly.
Rudrasa narrowed her eyes at him and thinned her mouth to a barely-there line. "Boss!" She called out, without looking away from Zahshur.
As the boss came over, Zahshur rapidly blinked and tried to drag his eyes away from the column.
"Khajiit is here," the cat in Geldis' clothes said as he looked up at them. "Something the matter?"
"This sodding bastard," Rudrasa shoved Zashur's shoulder, "knew one of the people who died here. Won't go to his funeral, for stupid reasons."
"Boss, I -- " Zahshur managed to look away from the column where Geldis died to meet the boss' lonely eye. When he started to speak, the cat cut him off with a raised hand.
Without a word or a blink, the Khajiit pointed to the stairs.
"Boss, I'm needed here -- "
Farri snapped his fingers with the same hand that pointed to the stairs. The boss' face was set in stone.
Under their combined scrutiny, Zahshur pushed off the wall and ambled his way to the stairs, then toward the Netch's door.
He supposed Geldis deserved to hear 'goodbye' from someone who knew him, at least.
---
The Battle of the Boars: In the year 4E 200, a mob of one hundred thirty-five Rieklings and fourteen war boars attacked Raven Rock from the western side. They ran roughshod over the settlement, reducing the civilian population to just twenty-five. Only four Redoran Guard survived the battle, due to the Rieklings dogpiling them until they suffocated or were stabbed to death. A recently-pardoned gang of reavers provided much-needed aid to the town. The gang's leader used odd magic to slay the Riekling chiefs and broke what little discipline the attacking force had which resulted in a rout.
NPCs dead: Geldis Sadri, Teldryn Sero, Slitter, Mirri Serevin.
Last edited:
SneakyWalrus
Is the Water Free?
Well, I suppose there goes any chance of getting the Serevin family onside to help ruin the local Redoran Councillor. Although now it might be even easier, all things consider, now that they have an even more pressing reason to want him dead.
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
We gotta take our wins where we can!
Plus side, though. They might just follow him to Blacklight and cause trouble there. Or just gut him before he leaves.
Chairtastic
Anything's a chair if you're brave enough
- Location
- Breakfast nook
- Pronouns
- He / Him / It
No, the Khajiit speak is because he is a Khajiit. That's how he talks, because that's him. But he uses first person for journals.
And no. I'm using more realistic population and mining informed from the games. A bar of gold the size of Skyrim's would legit be that heavy. Gold is heavy, extremely heavy.
And there was a lot more people in Raven Rock, note the past tense.
SneakyWalrus
Is the Water Free?
If I recall, they were one of the wealthiest families in the town, plus they had a lot of higher tier weaponry in their manor. I wouldn't put it past Farri to be planning to either use them as a tool to eliminate the last elements of the Redoran authority or to use them as a sponsor to help them actually sell off their loot in a 'legal' manner.
- Location
- Planet Earth
I'm really hoping that the MC continues to innovate, creating new/powerful spells/magics from understanding the basics. Maybe he will be able to finally heal himself, getting back his ear, eye, and healing his scars. Maybe he will be able to do all kinds of other things... Maybe recreate or gain access to magics/abilities from past lives. Like his Zanpakuto.
I'm also REALLY looking forward to the MC going back to that Mine and laying into them for selling him to a werewolf. To be used in a ritual sacrifice.
Maybe the MC will grow in power/ability enough to put the fear of Farri in Hircine. Teach him who not to mess with. Lost a hand the first time, this time maybe the MC will go for the throat.
I'm also REALLY looking forward to the MC going back to that Mine and laying into them for selling him to a werewolf. To be used in a ritual sacrifice.
Maybe the MC will grow in power/ability enough to put the fear of Farri in Hircine. Teach him who not to mess with. Lost a hand the first time, this time maybe the MC will go for the throat.
AzrielIlluminare
Mothman Cultist
- Pronouns
- They/Them
You mean Sinding? Pretty sure Farri hasn't done anything to Hircine, and even if he killed him, he'd just come back. Because that's what Daedra do.
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
He Did eat his hand, which seemed to be unpleasant for Hircine.
wonder if this would give him any favor for that one Daedra of cannibalism?
Last edited:
AzrielIlluminare
Mothman Cultist
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Huh, must have missed that somehow.
Namira? Probably not, Farri seems to enjoy being 'in the light' too much. He isn't skulking about in an old completely dark ruin living in his own filth like the Forgotten. Nor does he regularly chow down on corpses and people like her Skyrim followers.
Last edited: