Chapter I: Prologue
Before you read, you should know this is the sequel to my most popular story, The Exterior.
If that wasn't obvious by the title ;)
But anyway, my name is KhajiitInTheWilderness, but you probably already knew that.
I write a bit differently than other authors, and the main reason I say that is because of reader OC's.
There is an OC form at the bottom of every chapter until the deadline, and that deadline is usually near the end of the story, so you've got plenty of time.
Please use the most updated form as they are subject to change!
For returning readers, you'll notice that instead of being in short sentences, the story is now in 2-3 sentence small paragraphs.
None of that choppy stuff.
I'm actually writing this before the final chapter of The Exterior is done, and as I write this it is a WIP.
The lore is changed just a bit, you can submit the Akaviri races, Tang Mo, Lilmothiit, and Tsaesci. And you can use them as your OC's! Although you guys didn't seem interested in them except for Wolvia and Kezahkan
And there will be inconstancies because I have a very basic knowledge of Elder Scrolls having only played Skyrim and a short bit of ESO.
You should also know that the reason Do' bar isn't spelled Do'bar is so I won't have to deal with autocorrect and that pesky grammar corrections…
Hate those blue squiggly lines…
And this story takes place after Skyrim, which is the farthest game in the series, chronologically.
I was actually thinking of making an Orc the main character but I realized that probably wouldn't be a good idea since we already have J'tar.
Plus my name is Khajiit In The Wilderness. I actually wanted to name it Orc In The Wilderness since Orcs are my favorite but Khajiits are Elder Scrolls exclusive and Orcs are in those disgusting MMOs…
Bethesda, wtf were you thinking with ESO?
But enough of my crap.
You're here to hear my story's crap ;)
—-—-—
The Khajiit rolled his eyes under his hood at the hesitant guards. They weren't sure if they should allow him in, even if he did have the Emperor's invitation. But eventually they let him into the city.
This wasn't Cyrodil, nor any other of the central Tamriel cities, but Solitude, in all its glory. He remembered Molan telling him he had been here a few times, back when he was young and he didn't have as much… Problems on his hands. Bloodthirsty, feral, inhuman problems. Then again, the Khajiit had those problems as well.
He pulled the sleeve of his cloak down to conceal his werewolf scar. He didn't reckon anyone could see, but he didn't want any trouble with the guards. He hadn't touched a sword in five years… He pulled back his hood to see all the grandeur of Solitude.
He was tall for a Khajiit, almost 1.8 meters (6 feet), with gray fur and black tiger-like markings on his face, vibrant green eyes and a short black military style Mohawk. 32 years of age, one of which years was spent serving as a slave to a high elf.
J'tar was thinly built, not muscular or intimidating at all. He was sly, and talked himself out of situations more than picking a fight. Some would call him a coward. But they didn't know what exactly he'd been through. While the other survivors of the voyage were honored with statues and epics, poems, and ballads… He had nothing.
Do' bar didn't either. They didn't want Khajiits to be honored. Do' bar and J'tar weren't much of Khajiits either. They spoke normally, having been taught by their master Ganlas not to say "this one" and "J'tar/Do' bar" when speaking of themselves.
Every time J'tar saw a slave, he felt pity and even a pang of guilt later on having not done anything. Then he reminded themselves the law only permitted Khajiit criminals as slaves. He'd committed a wide variety of crimes in his youth, and he found it sickening he felt that he was somewhat deserving of his bondage.
J'tar finally arrived at the archway leading into to Castle Dour. The guards once more hesitantly allowed him through. It was getting a tad bit annoying… He followed a servant to the Emperor's quarters, unknown to what awaited him.
Perhaps he would finally get the honor he deserved. Do' bar would be there… It would be the first time they'd seen one another in years… But it was always something unexpected, J'tar reasoned. He flashed the guards his invitation, but they confidently let him past. Penitus Oculatus were of a higher caliber than regulars, he supposed.
The throne room was excellent, with red carpeting and golden chandeliers. The walls were adorned with hunting trophies, bears and deer, foxes and rabbits, even a spriggan. But that wasn't the center of J'tar's attention.
The crew was there. Only a few of them, plus a couple of new faces. A wide grin stretched across J'tar's face, as Yag, Molan, Do' bar, Torriath, Serrgius, Serah, Wolvia, and the now older Azi came into view. J'tar assumed the rest must have been the planners of the original voyage, or perhaps those who built it.
The Emperor must've been gathering them for an award ceremony… And perhaps the Khajiits would finally get the respect they had longed for…
But most were not smiling. Perhaps it was a ceremony to honor the dead? He could still feel the dead weight of Kezahkan in his arms, and Rohan's blood trickling down his hands… He convulsed in utter disgust and fright.
"My friends," the Emperor spoke, drawing their attention. "As you all know, Tamriel has been struck by a plague." J'tar nodded. His home city of Dune was deserted due to the disease that conquered Eastern Tamriel.
"I have kept this from my citizens, but my court mage predicts we have a single year left before Tamriel is completely…" He didn't finish. A solemn and uncomfortable silence settled over the room like the fog of Black Marsh.
"You have been chosen to sail out, into the exterior of Tamriel. Some of you have been selected because you are members of the previous voyage. We assume from the… Specimens you returned with, you've dealt with several of the beasts indigenous to the area."
Yes… J'tar could remember every last detail of the voyage. He touched the eyepatch he'd worn since the fateful day he was blinded in his right eye. He felt the rough patch of fur where the werewolf known as Pierric bit him… He felt the weight of Rohan's blade in the sheath at his belt.
He remembered it all too well…
—-—-—
Five years earlier
"The ship's going under!"
J'tar stumbled forward as the ship rocked. So did his heavily armored opponent. It was beginning to break in two. He didn't know how anchors worked, but he wagered it wouldn't stop them from sinking. Unfortunately, his side was beginning to go down first.
The rupture was a few feet behind him, where most of the crew were. "J'tar! Get out of there!" Yag and Do' bar were almost completely surrounded by grays, which was their name for their enemies. They fought with speed and valor, but they would be overtaken.
J'tar was kicked by the heavily armored man, and it sent him to the deck. He tried to get up, but his opponent quickly pinned him, the weight of the bigger man and the plate armor holding J'tar down. If the man started punching, with his steel gauntlets… J'tar could easily be bludgeoned to death.
But the ship full broke away as the man's fist raised. Now he was off balance. J'tar slipped out from under him and kicked him with both feet, sending the man tumbling down the ship's deck, which was slowly becoming vertical.
J'tar found himself sliding, first slowly, then picking up speed. The waters below were raging with a storm, and J'tar would likely not survive if he was overtaken by them. He got up as the ship became slightly diagonal, standing awkwardly with one hand on the ship's deck to steady himself.
The ship shifted from diagonal to vertical. J'tar jumped, and landed on what had once been the wall, but was now the roof of the storage area. He could hear barrels sliding out below him, and he hoped they would hit any grays hanging on below.
Someone grabbed his foot. J'tar kicked them and ran forward, not bothering to look at who it was. He turned around and drew Rohan's sword, encrusted with the blood of its previous owner and his enemies alike.
The man J'tar kicked pulled himself onto the ledge. To J'tar, he was twice as evil as a Daedric prince. No, tenfold. The one who had caused him so much pain. Who had bit him and turned him into a beast. J'tar found himself foaming at the mouth.
"I figured you would still be alive. The gods favor me, boy. They kept you from being killed just so I could personally kill you…" J'tar contemplated leaping off the ledge just so the man wouldn't have the pleasure of killing him.
"Pierric."
"J'tar."
J'tar knew that Pierric wanted him to make the first move. He was using J'tar's own rage against him.
And the bad thing was… He fell for it.
J'tar yelled a war cry and ran at Pierric with intent to kill. Pierric sidestepped, but J'tar had anticipated this. He lunged off to the side and ran Pierric through, sending him rolling almost over the edge and to an icy, watery death below.
J'tar seethed with anger as he walked over to Pierric, who was laying on the ground. He put his foot on the sword and pushed it in, until Pierric was literally pinned to the ground. But this wouldn't be the end. Pierric's eyes glowed red.
J'tar backed away as Pierric ripped the sword from his chest. He threw it at J'tar, and empty move since it was so easy to dodge. But it came with tenfold the normal speed, and grazed J'tar's shoulder. Pierric began to grow black fur with a bluish tint.
His arms and legs elongated, and his fingers became claws. His face erupted in fur, and a long snout formed from what had once been his mouth and nose. His ears became like that of a wolf. And his teeth grew sharp, perhaps the most disturbing of all the transformations.
Pierric ran at J'tar, who rolled out of the way. Strategies formed in the Khajiit's head, half brained plans that probably wouldn't work, but were worth a shot. Pierric roared, and it seemed that J'tar's surroundings became even darker.
One swat, and J'tar would be flung like an arrow off into the raging ocean below.
The sword Pierric had thrown was stuck in the ground, not by the blade, but the force of the throw was enough to drive the hilt into the ground, with the blade sticking out at an angle. J'tar made note not to go near it.
Pierric leaped up into the air, and J'tar barely had time to move before he landed, splintering the wood, and likely weakening the structure. The force knocked J'tar over and sent him almost sliding off the edge, his claws sinking into the wood and anchoring him.
J'tar rushed forward towards Pierric, but then realized his mistake; his sword was still stuck in the wood. He slid under Pierric's swipe and kicked him in the back. It wasn't much, but it was enough to stun Pierric momentarily.
J'tar leapt onto Pierric's back, put his arms around Pierric's neck in a hold, anchored his feet on Pierric's back, and pulled as hard as he could. He could hear the cracks and pops in the feral bones… Just a bit further and he could snap Pierric's neck…
It was a great effort to stay on, as Pierric ran around and shook, trying to throw J'tar off. J'tar shut his eyes and pulled as hard as he could, a growl in his through manifesting into a full-fledged cry of vengeance and pain, every fiber in his body screaming at him to kill the man, lactic acid flooding his muscles, and feeling like daggers had been driven into his eyes…
The final crack was like a catapult being fired. Pierric's back was bent at an awkward angle, his neck and maybe even his spine snapped clean in half. J'tar fell off his back and laid there, his limbs stretched out, his eyes shut, not caring about the annihilation going on around him.
Pierric reverted back to human form, his back and neck still terribly bent. He was dead. But the Aetherian tool beside him said otherwise. The red glowing pyramid rose up into the air, and began to pulsate. J'tar's eyes snapped open.
He got up and grabbed the pyramid, taking the power from it and putting out the light. He threw it as far as he could over the horizon. He'd lost the other pyramid earlier, and he hoped it was somewhere at the bottom of the sea.
But with his luck…
He ripped out Rohan's blade, reaching into the fissure which it had made and pulling it out by the hilt.
J'tar began to climb up the ship, anchoring himself with Rohan's sword, until Yag and Do' bar pulled him onto the stable side of the ship. The wounded were being treated, and prisoners had been taken. The ship had been successfully defended.
The young Khajiit breathed a sigh of relief, but then out of the corner of his eye, saw a prisoner staring at him. He looked towards the one so intently fixed on him only to reel back in surprise. He'd seen that face so many times before. The Khajiit boy who had been his best friend. Who he'd grown up with. The one who taught him how to fight. How to survive. The one who he promised he'd come back for.
An empty promise.
J'tar saw his own moves mirrored as the Khajiit slammed the back of his head into his captor's face, simultaneously grabbing the dagger from his sheath and ran at J'tar, in stabbing position. Yag drew her Orcish greatsword and swung at him, but he rolled under the swipe and kept running until he reached the railing. He jumped on top and then dove off.
"Even after all these years," J'tar said to himself, "you aren't dead. Stubborn bastard…"
—
So the ending to this chapter was also the canon ending for The Exterior!
And it wasn't even and ending choice.
Yeah, there were multiple endings. Like I said, I like to do things a bit differently.
Brutus' guess was close.
Chapters will be longer next time, around 3000. This one was around 2700.
And to understand the pyramid and Pierric, and J'tar losing his eye and becoming a werewolf, who Rohan and Kezahkan were and all that jazz, I recommend you read The Exterior!
However it does not give you insight as to who the familiar face J'tar saw is!
Muhahahahahaha…
There's like… 19 Chapters if you don't count the two authors notes. Each of them are 1000 words.
Looking back on myself, I feel like such an amateur… Ugh…
And the lines that separate the intros and outtros from the story have a pattern now! Actually I'm not sure if you guys can see it or not since changes the lines
When using the OC form, please remember to use the latest version as they are subject to change!
This one might not be up to date because I just copy pasted it from chapter 12 of The Exterior and then made a few edits.
The Form
Name:
Race:
Gender:
Age:
Role on the ship:
Appearance:
Weapons:
Optional
-—-—-—
History:
Skills:
Weaknesses:
Abilities:
Faction:
Personality:
Other: