Disclaimer: I don't own LotR or the Elder Scrolls series. No matter how much I want to. Or anything that I mention that has an owner other than myself. So obviously I'm not making money from this.
I still don't know how I ended up in this situation. One moment, I was taking a nap on a surprisingly comfortable tree branch. Yes, it might have been on my watch, so silence yourself! Anyway, I managed to find myself in a rather strange situation. Well, I woke up in a place that isn't Lorien, for one. The trees were all wrong. That alone caused me to tighten my guard. The second thing in this whole debacle, my weapons were still on my person. Sword, daggers, bow and all. Quite bizarre indeed.
Hearing someone yell an order, I slowly slink my way over to the source, hand on my sword blade. There were strange looking men in a sort of leather armour confronting some tall dwarves. From the looks of it, the dwarves were surrendering and are being taken captive.
Before I could move closer to further examine them, a twig snapped directly behind me. Unfortunately, the cause of the sound swiftly wrapped an arm around me, trapping my arms and covering my mouth. Within a heartbeat, I leapt into action, stomping on my attacker's foot. Using the time given to me, I pulled my head forward and slammed backwards, cracking their nose. With an elbow to the stomach, I was free.
I better not have any blood in my hair, I swear to Eru. It's hard enough to keep it immaculate with it being white-gold in colour, but getting blood in it? I shudder at the thought.
My luck seems to have evaporated, as the leather clad humans heard the confrontation and a few were sent my way. Some tried to charge, a quick dodge to the side caused them to miss. Amusingly this caused the clumsy mortals to collide with one another. Distracted by the direct assault, I, unfortunately, didn't bother to pay attention to any ranged attacks. Admittedly, it was mostly an underestimation of my current foes, as they didn't have any bows. Before I knew it, a sort of projectile was fired at me. Once it hit, I seized up from the strange force and fell over. Struggling against the magical bindings, I heard the humans approach my rigid, squirming self. Ugh, I'm getting leaves and twigs in my hair. What a way to start my day.
"What do you want us to do with him, Commander?" One of the men queried uncertainly. How curious, they spoke a sort of Westeron that I haven't heard before. Slightly stilling my struggle, I focused on my captors' words.
"Bring him with the others. We'll let General Tullius deal with this... elf." An authoritative sounding man decided with a sort of venomous tone in his command. Looks like someone doesn't like the elder folk. This does not bode well for me.
The underlings roughly pulled me up, grasping me by my pinned arms. One of the men unequipped my armaments before I was dragged along. Trying to glance around with great difficulty, I took note of an apologetic looking armoured figure standing near. A woman stood there in leather with a strange swirling essence in her hand. From the look on her face, she felt sorry for her actions against me.
Slowly and painfully, I was dragged to a sort of convoy of waggons. Roughly I was shoved and seated in the between two of my captors. The woman from before sat across from me, applying her strange magic every time I felt its effects slipping. This lasted for at least two hours of agonising humiliation. I was stuck between two severely unwashed men, bound by magic, and stripped of my weaponry. How far I have fallen.
Soon the smell of smoke and more of those stench-smothered humans managed to reach my delicate nose. A human village? Divine. Eventually, I could see the settlement as the cart began turning on the road. It had pale stone walls with wood topping the battlements, shading the guards that patrol its stretch. How am I going to get out of this?
Our cart slowly veered off of the road to roll to a stop next to the glorified rocky fence. The mage woman stopped casting her binding spell after we were in sight of the town. I was able to slowly move but was too debilitated to fight my way out for a while. The two men stationed at my sides rose to disembark the transport, dragging me with them. At least they are allowing me to use my legs now. Slowly, I was led into the village. To my disgust, the smell was greater after entering somehow.
Once I noticed our pace slowing, I glanced in front of me. A stern looking old man in strange armour perched on a horse next to a golden-skinned female elf. The man, I suspect, was a good deal shorter than myself, yet commanded the respect of the men around me. The she-elf looked quite upset, yet gazed upon me with interest. She grasped the reigns of her horse as she announced her departure in a haughty tone. The old man huffed slightly in victory before turning toward our entourage.
"So, who is this, Legate?" The man demanded from the leader of my captors. The 'Legate' answered him swiftly, merely stating that I was a sort of elf scout that was skulking about when they captured a man named Ulfric Stormcloak. He continued on with saying that I was deemed suspicious and they have confiscated my weaponry and escorted me here.
"Well? I'll have a look at his sword." General Tullius commanded. His name I learnt from the Legate in his explanation of my presence. A soldier presented my elven longsword to the man. Grasping it, General Tullius marvelled at the craftsmanship before looking up at me.
"I suggest you unhand him. I require to question him for a moment while the headsman is preparing for the others." The general demanded. Immediately the hands grasping my arms dropped and the men stepped away. Swiftly, I readjusted my clothing and ran my fingers through my hair. A bath is required to remove all the filth from it, but I will make do. Standing to my full height of six and a half feet, I scowled back at the general and crossed my arms. A curious gleam in my eyes.
"Just who are you, elf?" Was the first question the man asked.
"I am Linduin, a Marchwarden of Lorien. And you are?" I answered and countered. The general seemed to think for a moment before ever so graciously giving me an answer.
"General Tullius, commander of the Imperial army in Skyrim." This made me raise an eyebrow in response.
"Imperial army? Skyrim?" I asked in disbelief. General Tullius frowned deeper at my tone if that was even possible. One of the soldiers blurted out in a fit of rage about my being 'damn disrespectful'. His cries were swiftly silenced with a dark look from Tullius.
"I can tell you aren't from Tamriel, elf. Or even Nirn for that matter." Well, I thought that was quite obvious, based on the look on your face when you first saw my face.
"Can I trust you to not stab me in the back if I returned your blades and bow to you, elf?" The old general questioned. Looks like he will let me go free after all, it seems.
"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." Someone called out, breaking the conversation. Tullius huffed impatiently and turned back to me before ushering for me to follow him. Slipping my blade back into my belt and my bow secured onto my back, I made my way to follow him.
The two of us strode towards those dwarf-like captives from before, stopping when the general arrived in front of a gagged blond dwarf-man. A smirk was easily seen before General Tullius began antagonising the man.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." How droll, men killing other men for power. Typical. All this 'Ulfric' man could do is swear at the man, muffled by the gag.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." The general declared, feeling victorious. Some of which faded slightly when an eerie roar was heard in the distance. My stomach fell like a rock. I know exactly what could make that sound. Quickly I placed a hand on my blade, tensing in anticipation.
"What was that?" Someone asked, "It's nothing. Carry on." General Tullius replied, looking uneasy and tense. The execution proceeded once Tullius gave the order. A captain turned to what looked like some kind of priest and called for her to give the prisoners their last rites before death. This was the part where I began to get bored and tuned out most of the proceeding. A redheaded captive seemed to be impatient.
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." He demanded. The priest looked rightfully miffed and scowled at him. The redhead walked up to the block and mocked the Imperial soldiers for 'wasting his time'.
The sound of a big axe colliding with the man's neck brought my attention back to the event. There was quite a bit of blood everywhere when I looked back. Grand, this might actually be an interesting ordeal. A few words were tossed back and forth from the prisoners and the village spectators.
Not much attention was paid to the situation until I heard that roar once again. Some of the villagers were getting uneasy, one even cursed in question of the sound.
"Sentries! What do you see?" The Imperial captain demanded, looking disgruntled and on edge. That didn't last very long when a large black dragon flew to a turret and perched itself. It made a loud roar that caused the sky to crackle and clouds to appear thick and swirling above the town. Balls of fire began raining down from the heavens and everyone began fearing for their lives. The general was up in arms, commanding his soldiers with earnest.
Looking down at my sword, I remember that most weaponry was virtually useless against the dreaded Smaug. Cursing in my mother language, I pulled out my bow and notched an arrow. Before I could fire upon it, it roared at me strangely. That roar produced a force that flung me to the ground, causing my arrow to embed itself into the wall of the tower instead. As I lied there and looked up at the beast, its red eyes flashed at me in a challenge. Quickly I notched another arrow and aimed for its glowing, demonic eyes. Unfortunately, I missed when it suddenly flew off of the tower to wreak havoc on the town, breathing fire and ripping soldiers and townspeople apart.
Arrow after arrow, I notice that no matter what we throw at it, it doesn't even wince or anything. Then I realised that the battlemages were using fire.
"What are you idiots doing?! It's a fire drake, fire it useless against it!" I yelled to them, notching another arrow, aiming for the wing. The mages took my advice with some hesitation, not willing to fully trust a total stranger. They only considered my words for one reason; General Tullius trusted me enough to allowed me to keep my weapons. From the looks of it, they noticed that the ice didn't get completely absorbed by the dragon's scales. With a smile at their cooperation, I unleashed my arrow. To my joy, it managed to hit an ice patch, piercing the wing. Yet to my horror, it landed only to grab a man in its jaws and fling him around. Just as swift as it landed, the dragon flew up to the skies again.
"Come on, elf. We need to change positions to take that beast down!" Tullius hollered to me, running off with a sword in hand for me to follow. With no hesitation, I chased the old man. The battlemages, and archers trailing behind us.
There it was, the dragon perched on the stony battlements, glaring down at us. I was about to notch an arrow when I noticed it was breathing in deeply. Tensing up, readying myself for its fire. When it hastened its inhale, I quickly ordered the battlemages to get out of the way.
Noticing that the General was still in the dragon's path of breath. Running at him, I pushed him out of the way, fire igniting my dark gray cloak's tail. Letting go of the man, I quickly pat out the flames. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the dragon take off and fly away from the town towards the mountains.
"Good work, you managed to knock the breath out of an old man." General Tullius wheezed out with a hand on his chest.
"Better than being burned alive. You didn't notice it was about to breathe, did you?" I asked the man. He deepened his frown and slowly shook his head.
"You've dealt with dragons before, elf?" Tullius suspiciously questioned. Freezing, I turned back to him and nervously chuckled.
"I suppose I should have mentioned it earlier. One thing I did notice was that this one's fire is nowhere near as hot as the one I have fought." This drew the General's attention. His gaze trying to appraise my usefulness.
"You should join the Imperial army. We could use someone like you against this threat. Especially if this is merely the beginning of the dragon attacks." Join an army of man? What sort of mess did I drop into?
"I'll think about it." This answer seemed to satisfy the old general. Picking myself off the ground, I offered my hand to assist him. Begrudgingly, he took it with a grumpy huff. The soldiers ran back towards us when they noticed the coast was clear. Unsurprisingly I was bombarded with questions and their newly appreciative musings.
"That was amazing!"
"How did you know it was going to breathe fire?"
"Such bravery!"
As nice as the comments were, I noticed the question and brooded on it for a moment before answering.
"Where I came from, dragons still roamed. Albeit, they were rare and very powerful." From the looks of it, their views of me heightened. Soon I was swarmed with questions and declarations that I must be a hero of some sort, like the old legends. It all quieted down when General Tullius cleared his throat. He then turned to me with intent.
"My soldiers and I have to return to Solitude, the capital of Skyrim. I need you to deliver a message to Whiterun, the city that the dragon likely is going to target next." He explained to me, eyes split between demanding and begging.
With a barely noticeable huff of annoyance, I accepted. He did allow me to go free, after all. This sort of trust shouldn't be squandered on my being too prideful. As much as I despise being ordered around, it would be a nice thought to perhaps have an entire city from this beast. Yes, that is definitely going to be the story behind the ballads written of this moment. Heh.
Taking a map that one of the soldiers offered, he pointed out the path that I was supposed to take. He looked back up at me and whispered a plea to give a message to his uncle, Alvor. The soldier introduced himself as Hadvar. He apparently just wanted to make sure his uncle wasn't worrying about him. After receiving a rather detailed description of his uncle, Hadvar pulled away with a faint smile.
"Good luck, I just hope there aren't going to be more dragon attacks," Hadvar said quietly before running to join the other soldiers. After a short while, I gazed at the map to study my path. There wasn't much to it. Only one town between here and Whiterun, Riverwood. Ideally, this would be where I would stop for the night. Mostly to deliver the message, then gather supplies to travel to Whiterun. Sounds rather straightforward, actually. Wouldn't be surprised if I get attacked or something on the way, normally how it goes. With a sigh, I slowly made my way down the cobbled road, adjusting my belonging into a comfortable position as I strode toward the next town.
As fate would have it, I managed to encounter not just one, but two packs of wolves. Not to mention a camp full of bandits that decided I was easy prey. Oh, and I got stopped by some catlike thing trying to sell me some sort of illicit substance. Each and every time I cut them down with my elvish blade without hesitation. Funnily enough, the drugs they tried selling me smelt like a mixture of sugar and something utterly awful. My guess is that it is a drink for stamina and to get inebriated with. Skooma is what the cat called it. May as well throw it in the bushes for someone else to find. It is useless to me.
The gates of Riverwood were in sight, the wood stood strong and bleached from the sun's rays. This town isn't very old in fact, a few decades perhaps. Maybe a hundred years. Maybe. Striding through the gates, I could tell that a few people of man were displeased with my presence. Clearly, they were not fond of elves. Undeterred, I sauntered over to the blacksmith shop, a stout and muscular man was hammering away at what appeared to be a rather crude blade.
"I am here to deliver a message, from a soldier named Hadvar," I announced politely. The smithy looked up in surprise, hope shining in his eyes.
"Is he alright?" Alvor the Blacksmith asked, pleadingly. I nodded affirmatively, smiling slightly. The man looked relieved and continued with his sword making. He only slowed when I asked him about where I may obtain supplies.
"Riverwood Trader is where you want to go. It's run by an imperial named Lucan. He should have what you need." With that said, he turned back to his smithing, a smile on his face all the while. Looks like it was left to me to find the store, shouldn't be too hard.
The town was rather small after all. I was quite correct in saying that it wasn't hard to find it. The only problem was the shopkeeper was a fair bit distracted. Raving on about how his treasured dragon claw was stolen. Pure gold it was, he said. Sounds rather preposterous to me. Does make an ellon curious, however.
"I might be able to assist, Shopkeeper," I announced suddenly. This made the tanned man turn to me, hope clearly shone in his eyes. However, he was slightly suspicious as he didn't hear my entrance. That or because I'm an elf. Either or really.
"All I ask in return is some supplies to get to Whiterun. I have to deliver a message to the leader there about the dragon attack. The one in the town of Helgen." I continued, trying to be polite amidst all the apparent dislike of my kind. What have they done to deserve such hatred? We're not the race that blatantly wars with each other. Don't try to count the Kinslaying. That was one event far in the past. Not even one involving my ancestors either. Hah.
The man was still quite weary of me as he gave me the description and location of the claw. Some dingy crypt called 'Bleak Falls Barrow' was where the bandits were camping out. It was up in the mountains overlooking the town, its river, and the surrounding wilderness. It is as good of a place as any for some brigands to set up shop.
"I could show him the way." A woman offered. The tanned woman looked similar to Lucan and sat near him as the man ranted. She glanced over at me in admiration for a moment before turning back to Lucan. Finally, some mild respect, even if the intent was probably sexual. The shopkeeper sputtered and told her that she was to do no such thing. Trouble in paradise, it seems. I didn't hear the rest of the argument as I slipped out the door silently and made way towards the mountain in the dimming evening light.
"Brother elf! Are you just passing through, or are you helping Lucan?" A voice called out to me in a question. Turning my head sidewards, I spotted a tan skinned elf with pale hair and dark brown eyes. He was noticeably short and slight with a bow slung on his back. What a strange looking elf, this one. I was slow to reply in Sindarin that I certainly was. He looked excited and slightly confused.
"Would you like help?" He asked in kind of Elvish. It was a little difficult to understand. The dialect he was using was fairly strange, same with the accent. It took me a moment to decipher his words. After learning his intent, I motioned for him to follow me. He was quick to do so, practically hopping with each step he took.
"So what is your name? Where are you from?" The tanned elf asked cheerfully in the Common Tongue. I mused over his words for a moment.
"I am Linduin. A Marchwarden of the Golden Wood, Lorien." I remarked proudly. The other elf looked up at me with a fair bit of interest and a smile.
"My name is Faendal. I've lived in Riverwood for a few years now. Managed to get a job at the mill." My newly-named elf companion chattered, catching up with my long strides.
"Since you said you're from the 'Golden Wood', I'm guessing you're some kind of Bosmer?" This made me stop. Looking towards my tanned companion in confusion, I silently asked for an explanation.
"What in the name of the Valar is a Bosmer? I'm am a Sindar." I huffed at the unintentional strike to my ego. Again Faendal looked confused and a little apologetic, babbling on about how he didn't know and that he never saw an elf like myself before. Raising my hand to pause his apologies, I grimly smiled at him.
"Do not fret, Faendal. I am nearly certain that my kin haven't been seen in this realm before." He seemed to relax slightly. Looking back up to me, the small elf tried to explain what a Bosmer was, and why he confused me for one.
"So that means 'wood elf', huh? If we were back in my home realm, then you would be a Sylvan. No, the Sindar are not Wood Elves necessarily. We are spread across different lands." I grandiosely explained, dramatically gesturing with my hands as I spoke. Old habits die hard, it seems.
Faendal kept walking silently for a moment. Clearly thinking on what other questions he would ask. We walked in silence for a while up the mountainside until a single, frozen tower came into view. From what I could see, ragged looking men and women were inhabiting the structure. Bandits, most likely.
Immediately, I crouched and motioned Faendal to do the same. He looked towards me curiously as I slowly notched an arrow. More likely than not, they will be hostile. Better safe than sorry. Pulling back the string all the way to my cheek, I slowly let out my breath, my arrow following it shortly. Within a second, a bandit's inner light was quickly snuffed out as my arrow embedded itself into his eye socket. Faendal glanced between me and the fallen bandit in wonder.
"Nice shot!" He whispered in congratulation, grinning wildly. Again I notched an arrow, as the fallen bandit's comrades went to where he died. They were alarmed and tried to search around for his killer. Again my arrow flew, and again it buried itself into my mark, killing them instantly. More bandits appeared, more alarmed and fearful. Knowing they were being stalked by a hunter in the dusk. Some of the male bandits grew more aggressive, trying to taunt me out of hiding. As a Galadhrim, I knew how to play this game. Simply draw them out and pick them off from a distance.
Eventually, they started to figure out where the arrows were coming from. Unfortunately for them, their numbers were fewer than before. Much less of a threat than when Faendal and I stumbled upon them. A male bandit with a war hammer ran at me, seemingly expecting to take me down in one or two blows. As swift as the wind, I dashed forward with elven blades gleaming in the last rays of twilight. Without hesitation, I ran into the tower, yearning to eradicate these vermin.
"I'll take care of the bandits, you just search for things that might be useful," I whispered to Faendal without turning my head. There were at least two more bandits here, I can sense their lifeforce. One must be the leader. Creeping ahead with that knowledge in mind, I climbed the staircase silently, trying not to alert the Chief of my presence.
Unfortunately, my silence wasn't enough, as Faendal accidentally dropped a potion bottle. The glass containing a green liquid shattered on impact with the floor, the thick fluid oozing into the weathered stone and wood surface.
"What was that?" A gruff voice demanded. Personally, it sounded like an orc, yet the voice was less savage. Less like the ones that were a pestilence back home. Tensely, I continued to make my way up the stairs. There was a great big beast of a creature. It had dusky green skin, sharp tusk-like teeth jutting up from its lower jaw, and even from here it smelt utterly terrible. Like it hadn't bathed in an age.
The creature was kneeling over what looked like a human woman tied to the bed. From what I can tell, with the scent of salt in the air, it wasn't a consensual situation. The sight ignited my rage as I drew my blades and made myself known.
"What a pretty thing you are, too bad you're going to have to die." The Chief mused darkly, a wicked grin crept his face as he continued, "If you didn't manage to kill all of my underlings, I definitely would have captured you." This undoubtedly caused me to become a little irrational as I began shaking with rage. No one talks to me like that and gets to live. With eyes alight, I quickly leapt forward to finish him off quickly. The bandit managed to surprise me by blocking with a blade of his own.
"My guess was right, you are more enchanting the closer you get," The orc teased, the grin was still being held even in the face of possible death. Did he have a deathwish?
"If I were a younger orc... but alas this will be a good way to die." The Chief finished with a satisfied look on his ugly face. Well, that confirms my suspicions, at the very least. Pushing off of his jagged greatsword, I sank into a defensive stance silently. The orc just laughed and positioned himself aggressively. The two of us stood there silently for a moment, measuring each other up, looking for weaknesses.
The orc stepped forward suddenly, trying to startle me. I stood my ground. A dark, excited glint appeared in his eyes before he dashed forward, raising his greatsword. A quick dodge to the side caused the Chief to barely miss. I nearly gagged at the stench of this creature due to the proximity. Perhaps he never took a bath after all. We continued this dance for a small while. During of which, I saw Faendal creep past us to untie the woman and lead her to safety.
Upon knowing that the human was safe, I slightly relaxed and poured all the focus on my enemy. He was wearing a sort of iron armour. Yet from the amount of leather that was showing, it wouldn't protect him well from a precise strike of my blades. Formulating my plan, I continued to dodge his wide and powerful swings. I cannot allow that thing to hit me, or I will likely lose a limb. The Galadhrim generally do not wear much armour under our cloaks. I'm just thankful that my father managed to provide me with a light-weight chain vest for added protection before he sent me away.
On one of his swings, I struck a leather portion of his armour and sliced into him. He grunted in slight pain as my blades bit into the flesh of his stomach. Using this time given to me, I brought my other dagger across his arm, slicing deep. The Chief released his greatsword to swing at my face with his uninjured arm. Bracing myself for the hit, I managed to reduce the power of the blow by stepping backwards. Unfortunately, he still hit my jaw, causing it to crack audibly.
The two of us backed away from each other and held our injuries. The Orc Chief huffed in pain yet still had his bloodthirsty grin on his face. I cradled a the fracture with one hand after holstering a blade. If you suspected I was angry, you'd be mostly right. I was furious. The injury began swelling slightly and throbbing. Bruises were beginning to form. I haven't been hit like this in many centuries. To get caught and injured like this was humiliating, to say the least.
"What's wrong little elf, did I hurt your pretty face?" The Orc sneered, trying to taunt me into attacking him. Slowly I breathed, trying to calm myself down. With a cold expression in my eyes, I dashed forward to slice into his throat. He barely moved to try to stop me this time. The Orc didn't bother to hold his wound, quickly bleeding out. The Chief still had a content visage as he faded away. What a strange situation. What a strange orc. What a strange world I awoke in.
As I climbed down the steps, my thoughts overtook my attention. The orc seemed just as battle hungry as the ones I know of, yet he seemed as if he were a warrior of a different sort. In his mind, he must have thought the only good way to die was to die fighting, and that he died nobly by my blades.
Shaking my head in an attempt to clear these thoughts, I turned back to Faendal and the strange woman we rescued as they sat in the bottom portion of the tower. The wood elf was tending to her, trying to calm her down. She must have begun crying again. Faendal turned toward me in exasperation and worry.
"She hasn't said much, only that they took everything." He whispered to me. Slowly I crept toward the pair, trying not to startle the woman. She began to cease her sobs as I came into her view. Her gaze wandered over me, momentarily stopping on the blood stains that came from my battle with the orc. Gradually she began to relax and yawned meekly. Her time with the bandits must have drained her.
"What is your name?" I asked softly, trying not to startle her. She looked up into my eyes. Hers seemed to be a deep, clear green. A pang of homesickness washed over me. It was the same shade of green as the trees of my birth home in the summer.
"My name is Elswyth Mallon." She croaked out, trying to hide behind her matted dark brown hair. I slightly rose a dark eyebrow in interest. Faendal simply sat there, watching the exchange before offering his waterskin to the woman. She smiled gently in thanks and took gentle sips. Faendal has rather joyful now that our adventure took an interesting turn.
"My name is Faendal, I live down in Riverwood. My companion here is Linduin. I don't quite know exactly what he does, but my guess is that he's an adventurer of sorts. He's letting me tag along on his adventure up to Bleak Falls Barrow" The pale haired wood elf introduced. Elswyth looked up at him with a sort of pensive look.
"I was supposed to deliver a message to an innkeeper in Riverwood. I got ambushed on the road before I could make it." Elswyth cautiously said, unsure if she should trust us. The green-eyed woman began tearing up at the end of her words.
"I'm so glad you two rescued me." The young woman blurted out, tears falling. Her hands were grasping the ruined hem of what remains of her blue dress as she spoke. The only thing I wished to do was help her complete her journey to the small town below. The only thing stopping me from immediately doing so was a fierce flame that ignited in her eyes.
"If you are going into the Barrow, I'm coming with you," Elswyth stated, huffing stubbornly at the end of her words. Faendal had a worried look about him, mouth open to try and rebuff her request. I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He glanced over at me in mild surprise.
"Are you able to defend yourself? I know not of what dangers await us in there. Faendal and I might not be able to save you in time if we encounter more trouble." I asked. Her eyes lit up and practically sparkled in the low candlelight.
"I'm a mage, so I can cast spells and try to help that way?" Elswyth replied hopefully in vigour, sensing that I was considering her wish. Contemplating this, I smiled and dipped my head in agreement. Standing up, I began to take off my dark woollen cape. Handing her the bundle of cloth, I gestured for her to wear it. The poor woman was slightly shivering through that whole conversation. Her feet were bare as well, perhaps we can loot a pair of boots for her. Elswyth glanced at me in gratitude and hurried to secure it. What was a short cape for me, draped nearly to her knees as she stood up to follow.
Soon the three of us made our way up the mountain more. The Barrow coming into view as it jutted up from beneath its snowy veil. Upon hearing the crunch of snow underfoot in the distance, I stopped. My companions soon followed my lead and readied themselves. Glancing at Elswyth from the corner of my eye, I saw a ball of swirling green light in her hands. Drawing my bow, I aimed toward the first bandit in sight. When the arrow met its mark, I strode forward. These were most likely just guards. If we dispatch them quickly, we won't alert the ones inside. Another bandit saw his comrade fall and let out a sound of panic.
Drawing his own bow, he pitifully tried firing on us. It was Faendal's arrow that snuffed his light out. There was only one more bandit that was alerted on the ancient stone terrace. He tried running at us with a battle cry, intending to attack us with his iron mace. He was quickly struck down by a flurry of my elven blades when he got close.
Cautiously, my companions and I climbed the steps towards a heavy metal door. Gently, I pushed myself against it, opening it just enough for us to slip inside. It was surprising when the door barely creaked as it moved. After closing the door, I stood silently, listening to voices from across the temple chamber. Two bandits were talking around a fire pit, oblivious to their new guests. Positioning myself to the side, I silently drew my bow and shot the male bandit. The female bandit let out a gasp of shock before she darted her head trying to find one who killed her associate.
"Where are you?!" She yelled out in anger and grief. Clumsily, the bandit notched an arrow into her bow then set out to find me. Without hesitation, I put an arrow through her heart.
Turning to my companions, I nodded to them to come out of the shadows. Striding towards the fire, I allowed them to rest nearby to warm up. Glancing around, I noticed a small chest. It was locked, but with a wave of my hand, I caused it to open. There wasn't much in it, the only notable things were a set of robes, a pair of boots, a note, and a spellbook. With my eyes widening slightly, I motioned Elswyth over. These must have been the rest of her things when she was taken prisoner. She almost brought to tears at the sight of them.
After giving Elswyth a moment to redress and gather her things, we continued on, deeper into the barrow. It was relatively quiet as we strolled through this musty place. There was practically nothing but stone, vines, and mildew in this place. The longer I stay down here, the more angsty I get. I never did too well in tight spaces underground. Even in the Woodland Kingdom, there weren't too many tight tunnels in the underground pathways of my old home. I still miss the trees, even more so down here.
I kept moving on ahead as Elswyth and Faendal made sure to not leave anything worth keeping lying in these tunnels. If I were buried deeper in my thoughts, I almost wouldn't have noticed a room up ahead with a bandit standing inside. Crouching, I watched him with a bow in hand. He didn't seem to notice as he walked toward a lever in front of an iron gate. What shocked me wasn't the fact that there was an obstacle in that room, but that the bandit was struck down by venomous darts ejected from hidden dispensers within the walls. A trap.
With curiosity driving me, I sauntered into the room to investigate why he died. Glancing around, I noticed there were three stones with animals adorning their sides. Looking above the door, there were more stones, but they didn't seem to be able to turn. It was a puzzle. My companions caught up to me as I was spinning the moveable stones to correspond with the sigils above the door. Faendal was curious about the room and started to ramble about 'Nordic Ruins' and their puzzles to protect their crypts. Elswyth was quiet in her awe as she just glanced around the room until her gaze fell onto the lever. I stepped up to it and pulled it back. The gate groaned as it rose up, clearing the way for us to continue.
Once we reached a rickety wooden stairway, we encountered a few very large rats. Admittedly, I slightly panicked and possibly overkilled the ones who went after me. I do not like rats. They are such filthy scoundrels, a far cry from the meek and gentle mouse.
After collecting whatever we could, I decided to scout ahead slightly. I didn't have to go very far to hear a fearful voice call out if someone was near. Encountering a thick web of spider's silk blocking the way, I decided to wait for Faendal and Elswyth. Upon hearing their footsteps, I went to work on cutting away the blockage. Once inside the room, a large spider descended from the ceiling, cutting us off from a trapped bandit. I froze upon glancing it. Another reminder of my birth home. A rather cruel reminder, but one nonetheless.
With a fervour, I dashed to the arachnid with blades in hand. It tried to fight back as I sliced through its legs. It caught me by surprise as it spat a sticky glob at me, throwing me back and onto the ground. I struggled against it, feeling my strength drain quickly. If I didn't bring along Faendal, such a thing may have been the death of me.
Hearing a monstrous screech, I looked up from my position on the stone floor. Arrows and strange green magic struck the giant spider. My companions are going to be able to finish the abomination off. Relaxing in my bound position, I tried not to struggle more. Doing so seemed to only cause more fatigue.
Once the spider was dead, the bandit kept hollering on about getting cut down. Faendal and Elswyth ignored him as they cut me free from my energy-draining webbed confines. After brushing off the rest, I strode toward the dark-skinned elf bandit.
"Where is the Golden Claw?" I inquired him, my icy blue eyes sharp with a distinct lack of mercy. The elf tried to squirm away, webs containing him. My gaze pinned him down until he managed to summon enough courage to speak.
"Yes, the claw. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the Hall of Stories. I know how they all fit together!" He managed to defiantly squeak out before struggling against the webs again. With an eyebrow raised, I urged him to continue.
"Help me down, and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden there." He said, hoping to tempt me. I indeed was interested, but I will not trust a bandit. I slowly began to cut him down. It was a little difficult with him squirming still. Once he got loose enough, I immediately grasped his shoulder to keep him from bolting. Feeling him tense beneath my hand was pleasant. It also confirmed my feelings towards not trusting vagabonds.
"You will not run. You will lead us there. No tricks." I growled warningly. The bandit gulped frightfully and nearly broke out in a cold sweat before nodding vigorously. Slowly I released him and gently pushed him forward. He slowly began to lead us down the crypt and its tunnels. It was when we reached the catacomb-like portion that I tensed up. Drawing my daggers, I crept forward cautiously. It smells of death and dark magic in here. I do not like this.
The corpse nearest to the bandit began rising from its shelf, battle-axe in hand. The poor elf didn't stand a chance as he froze with fear. When he tried to run away the undead creature it buried its axe deeply into his retreating back with a loud crack. A thick tension hung in the air as the creature turned to me and my companions with a burning hatred in its glowing blue eyes.
It tried to run at us. I managed to block its first strike, holding it still for a moment. Faendal took the time to draw his bow and ready a shot. When I made his mark clearer by moving to the side, he buried an arrow into the undead's skull, killing it instantly. The sound of the corpse woke two others. Was this place filled with these things? I certainly hope not.
The fight wore on as I distracted the undead while Faendal struck them down with arrows. Elswyth used magic to heal and protect me from the surprisingly strong blows from these creatures. Once the small horde was slain, Faendal and I took a moment to rest. Elswyth began looking the bandit's body. She managed to find the Golden Claw and his journal. It appears he was called Arvel the Swift. Such a title was quite laughable since he would not run from me or death by the undead. In the common tongue, it is called 'irony' if I recall correctly. The Eldar have a different word for it of course, but that isn't the point.
The three of us slowly made our way further into the catacombs, weary of more undead creatures. I believe Faendal mentioned they were called 'Draugr' at some point. On the next level of the crypt, more Draugr rose to greet us violently, we replied in kind, swiftly dispatching them of their unnatural lifeforce. Once they were slain, I inspected the room. The entrance to the next portion was guarded by swinging axes. What sort of horrible place is this?! Who needs traps like this to guard their dead? Or even undead in a place where the dead are supposed to rest? I will likely never understand this nor the world I found myself waking up in.
Glaring long and hard at the swinging blades, I readied myself to run through, to dodge them. A soft hand on my shoulder stopped my plan. Elswyth shook her head and stood in front of me, charging up a sort of magic. When she stopped channelling her magic, she became a cloud of smoke, passing through the dangerous trap without so much as a scratch. When Elswyth reverted to her human form, she pulled a chain on the other side, stopping and pulling up the swinging axes. Clever woman.
We continued on, slaying the undead we come across and gathering things that may become useful to us in the future. It wasn't long until we found ourselves in a chamber with a waterfall and a stone bridge. Unfortunately, no one could enjoy the sight as a Draugr forced its way out of a stone sarcophagus.
A few arrows and a near decapitation via daggers later, the three of us were finally alone. Elswyth made her way to the chest to loot it. Faendal pulled the chain to lift the gate to the next area. I simply stood there with my eyes closed, allowing the sound of the underground waterfall wash over my senses. For a moment, I can imagine that I'm sitting near the lagoon that is deep in Lorien. It was a relaxing thought, I enjoyed it while it lasted until Faendal softly called me out of my mind.
"Are you okay?" He asked, a worried look in his eye. Faendal can practically sense the homesickness rolling off of me. A curt nod and a ghost of a smile told him all he needed. I followed him and our mage companion into a cave. Glowing mushrooms adorned the cavern walls in some places. The waterfall from the previous room gently flowed into a stream here. It gurgled as it made its way down another waterfall. There must be quite a few underground streams in this cave, as there was another waterfall above us, adding to the larger flow.
Another chest was in sight, and Elswyth all but ran to it. I stood at the edge of the waterfall's peak to gaze below. Another Draugr was patrolling a snow-covered stone bridge suspended above a watery pit. I readied my bow and took the undead creature down. We don't need more obstacles in our way.
With a silent huff, I turned back to my companions. They were digging through the chest. Faendal managed to obtain a new bow for himself and some leather armour. Elswyth found a few gemstones, grinning as she pondered on how much they would sell for in Whiterun. I might ask her to continue with me there. She has proven herself a worthy ally so far. We just have to see after our respective quests in Riverwood are completed.
Following the path down to the bridge, I lead the way again. Faendal and Elswyth glanced around. The mage stilled and then made her way down a path to the waterfall's end. A victorious sound emitted from her. Most likely she found another chest. As happy as I am with her obtaining valuable items that we can either use or sell, the constant stopping is wearing on my patience. Faendal turned to me with an apologetic expression before walking down to assist our mage friend. The two returned with bright grins on their faces. Faendal pulled out a thick circlet with a magical glow to it.
"What is this?" I asked him, accepting the headpiece.
"It's a circlet of archery. It basically causes your arrows to become more deadly. We also found a ring of magic resist and a ring of one-hand. Figured you would find some use for them." Elswyth replied from behind a book she found. It had a strange symbol of a tree on the cover, so I'm guessing it is a spellbook of some sort.
Nodding and mumbling a word of thanks, I placed the circlet on my head. A warm hum of power soared through me. I wonder what sort of magic enchanted this? I might consider learning it if I have the time. With my companions looking pleased that I accepted the enchanted headwear, we continued on through the tunnels.
There was another Draugr guarding a large wooden door in sight. It seemed different from the others somehow. I gestured for Faendal and Elswyth to walk more carefully as I readied my bow, eager to test the circlet's power. As I drew back the string, I felt the hum of power vibrate through my being, seemingly adding to the bow's power. Upon release, the arrow struck the undead in the neck. It didn't completely snuff out its unnatural lifeforce, but it definitely weakened it. Notching another arrow, I let it fly to finish it off. From my guess, the Draugr had more constitution compared to the others. Might be the reasoning as to why it was guarding the door.
With the coast clear, I jogged up to the door. This was becoming quite an adventure now, and I was becoming eager to continue. The way was quite for a while, short of my companions talking behind me about random subjects. Currently, they decided to debate methods of what types of wood might influence staff making. Faendal had his ideas based on a woodcutter's perspective while Elswyth had her magic based one. It would have been interesting to listen to if the sound of swinging blades drew my attention. Another swinging axe trap I bet.
Sighing, I interrupted the discussion by informing the two of the situation. Elswyth lit up with another chance to use her magic. Once she appeared on the other side and pulled the chain, the sounds of more Draugr struck fear within her as she froze in place. She clearly wasn't used to direct confrontations, especially since she doesn't carry a weapon.
Faendal and I ran through the cleared path to try and protect her. Sweeping in front of her, I blocked the incoming battleaxe blow. It wasn't a perfect parry, as he managed to strike with more force than I was prepared for. Wincing, I directed his axe to the side before kicking him back. Once he was on the ground, I leapt over to bury my daggers deep into his neck.
An arrow grazed my arm after I slain the undead abomination under me. Ignoring the way the small wound bled, I drew my bow, aiming for another Draugr on a stone ledge above us. I saw another Draugr following the undead archer. Intent on killing the archer first, I released my arrow into his skull. Faendal was quick to dispatch the axe-wielding Draugr as I began notching another arrow.
After noting the silence in the room, we continued on through the crypt to a wooden door. When opened, it lead to a hall with carvings on either side. This must be the Hall of Stories that Arvel mentioned. Upon reaching the end to a large metal door with a puzzle build into it, my eyes were drawn to the strange keyhole. It had a claw engraving into it. A moment of realisation came over me as I turned to Elswyth and asked for the Golden Claw. She must have come to the same conclusion as I did and handed it over.
I inspected the door further, paying attention to the rotating parts of the door. A glance down at the claw revealed the same icons as the door, but in a different orientation. This must be the code. Quickly spinning the parts into the right order, I placed the Claw into the keyhole. Turning my head to Faendal and Elswyth, I made sure they were ready for a possible fight. We don't know what is behind this door, and I don't want our mage to freeze up again if they manage to pass me. We don't have time for her to fall into shock from a repeat experience as before, or Faendal would have to carry her while I defend them. That would make this entire situation that much more difficult.
Seeing the two eager and prepared to fight calmed some of my worries as I turned the Claw, opening the puzzle door. It slid down, allowing us to pass.
The sight in this chamber was awe inspiring. Waterfalls and streams came together underneath an earthen and stone platform. On which was a curved wall. It practically called to me, almost urging me into a trance as I walked over to it, mesmerised. My sight darkened and some of the etching within the wall began to glow. I stood there as a strange wind emerged from the surface and into me. It hummed with power and I relished it. My trance only being broken by the sound of a sarcophagus busting open.
Quickly turning towards the metallic coffin, I drew out my blades. A strong presence emerged and I tensed as its unnaturally glowing eyes landed on me. It spoke some guttural words and I was pushed back slightly. What was that? Faendal shot an arrow into the back of the undead creature's skull. It didn't even slow the thing's approach, or turn its attention. The Draugr's focus was purely on me as it lifted its battleaxe. As it brought it down, I dove out of the way.
Figuring that it would be slow, I tried diving in and out, slicing it with my daggers. Hearing the sound of a spell forming, I backed away just as a ball of green magic flew towards the undead being. It managed to distract it as sharp biting leaves swirled around it, cutting away at its leathery skin. The spell didn't last very long as it kneeled, lifting its head towards me again. When it got back up, it tried charging at me again. This time I managed to sidestep and thrust my blades into its spine, slaying it at last.
The three of us let out a breath of relief as it fell. Elswyth went directly to the chest nearby, intent on emptying it of its contents. Faendal searched through the shelves near the sarcophagus. I strode up to the metal coffin and glanced inside. There was a strange stone tablet with a similar carving as the wall along the bottom of it. Stars were carved into it, which I found rather curious. It looked like a map of sorts. Without much preamble, I picked it up and tucked it into my bag. It may be worth taking. My intuition is demanding it.
The rest of our journey through this crypt was relatively uneventful. There were one chest and a memorial with a skull as the centrepiece. Not much to really notice anyway. We soon found an exit lit by moonlight. A brisk breeze blew in, reminding us of our location. I just hope there isn't a cliff on the other end of that. Or some beast ready to kill us.
I need a bath.
Hey guys thanks for reading this pilot chapter of "The Gray Folk" It took a rather long time to write, but I had a very insistent plot bunny that demanded it. It's nagging me to continue but having 9k+ words for a first chapter is perhaps all I can stand to write for tonight. ~Tinn aka Mask
Edit: I fixed the inconsistencies and such that were bugging me, I honestly need a beta or for myself to not instantly post things after a long night of writing… Anyway, don't forget to leave a review, it's nice getting some feedback, encourage, and constructive criticism from you guys. I know for sure I need to check my pacing, I'm not comfortable with it at the moment.
On another note, the next chapter is almost halfway done. I completed the storyboarding for it and several character analysis and similar tools to keep track of everything going on in the plot. That includes my being a total nerd and making a DnD chart for Linduin, Elswyth, and a character that is going to be appearing in the 3-4th chapters ;) Stay tuned!