Sentries of the World
Chapter One: Growing up
Eutrepe crept through the brush, her eyes the color of the forest surrounding her trained on her prey ahead of her. She had been hunting the doe for the last half hour after spotting it grazing in the nearby woods, hoping to bring it down for her family back home. Her father had begrudgingly let her hunt alone that day, knowing he had to nurse his sick wife. Eutrepe's mother had contracted bone break ever after a rough fall she had taken a week earlier and since then had been bedridden. Since she had never been a very good care taker herself, the responsibility fell upon her father. It made her feel inadequate, but that was how it was. The tide flowed how it would and she could do nothing to change. It.
Some of her red hair brushed against her face where it had come undone from her braid. The strands curled against her check, sweat beading her forehead as she crept another couple steps forward. Her senses were extending everywhere, listening for any broken branches as she watched the doe, the smell of fresh earth filling her as she touched the ground lightly in hopes of settling herself. The deer twitched an ear and Eutrepe held her breath, begging the deer inwardly not to bolt. It was now or never. She had to do something to bring down her pretty before she bolted. She couldn't get too far from her parent's home, especially with not so many bandits out lately.
She deftly notched her bow before raiding it and taking aim. Eutrepe pulled the string, drawing it taunt. She could take the safe route, wound the leg and lower the deer's mobility. Or, she could go for the kill, aim for the heart or the head, and possibly lose all chance at the deer if she missed. A breath stuttered past her lips as she tried to come to a quick decision. Only seven arrows were left in her pouch on her right thigh, and she had to make them last for the foreseeable future. There was no telling when she would be able to go to Riverrun, which was at least an hour away, or would be able to manufacture more arrows herself. She had to make each and every arrow count. If she missed, the deer would take any ammo with it, and she couldn't track it any longer. It was already growing far too late.
Silently, she aimed at the doe's head, a light tremor in her right arm rom trying to keep her father's long bow at full draw for so long. Letting out a deep breath, time seemed to slow as she released the string, the arrow sailing through the air almost silently.
The doe let out a whine before the life left its eyes and its leg's buckled underneath it. Standing, she walked out from behind the bushes she had been hiding behind. Putting an arm though her bow, she let it rest on her shoulder as she examined her kill. Luckily, it had been clean and hadn't damaged the deer's pelt. Kneeling down on her haunches, she went to work. Producing her small hunting knife, she began to methodically spate the pelt from the animal in some places while also cutting apart the mean as she had been taught by her father. The pelt could be used later for clothing or armor; they could even sell it if they had to buy more potions for her mother's illness.
After placing as much as she could in the leather knapsack on her back, and carrying what she could hold she made her way back towards her childhood home.
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The rough oak doors shut behind Eutrepe as she hauled in her catch. "Papa! I'm home!" Lumbering footsteps could be heard coming from the other side of the house. "Welcome home, child," her father called as he came down the stairs. "Did you find any game? If not, do not worry. I'm sure we can scrounge something up for everyone, lass."
When her father came into view he stilled, his face conveying the shock he felt as his eyes landed on the full knapsack on the floor and the small load his daughter carried. "Well done, girl! Truthfully, I believed ya might catch a rabbit or a squirrel. But aye, that is a large haul you have there!"
Eutrepe grinned widely before she laid the contents in her arms on the large dining table in the middle of the makeshift kitchen, aware of the dried blood streaking her arms and blouse. "Of course I can catch something better than a rabbit. I learned from the best, didn't I?" Her father answered her grin with a smirk of his own. "Aye, that you did child."
Her mood had lightened, but a groan from above them quickly brought that crashing down. "How is mama doing? Is she any better?"
Her father nodded, but even she could tell all was not right. His face suddenly seemed strained and he didn't look so much like the strong man she was used to seeing. Her father reminded her of a person who could do nothing while his lover was in pain. Papa settled his great frame into one of the antique chairs, causing it to groan lightly under his weight as he swiped a hand over his gruff face. "It'll be fine, child. The healer was here hours ago, and the bone is settled fine. There is a poisoning in her blood, but she shall be fine. Your mother will outlive us all, I have always claimed this."
Eutrepe nodded, not knowing what else to say. People rarely died from bone break fever in Tamriel anymore, and her mother had been seen to by the healer… There wasn't much else she could do on her own. Her potion knowledge was limited to only minor healing potions or paralytic poisons.
Was there anything else she could do?
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Sanlin pulled the black cloth higher on his mouth as he edged along the wall. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck from both the anxiety and the heat. Briefly, he reminded himself to tell Brenjolf bac at the Cistern that dark outfits and heat did not mic. On his next mission from the guild he wouldn't be surprised if he had a damned heat stroke!
He reached for his dagger as he rounded the corner, the mansion still silent except the occasional snore from the sleeping residents. In hindsight maybe he should have enchanted his boots or maybe cast a muffle spell before he had entered the home…
In a corner, on an ornately decorated night stand sat a golden braiser; the handles were made from the ivory taken from mammoth's tusks. Sanlin chuckled under his breath as he crept across the mahogany floor, careful none of his footsteps caused any of the floorboards to even squeak. He swiped the treasure before deftly depositing it into his backpack. Now, he just had to make it out without anyone noticing and it would be a clean job, one of his first.
He almost made it. He had snuck all the way towards the unlocked back door before he heard a booming sound from a couple of feet behind home. 'Oh, Nocturnal, don't tell me that's…'
Sanlin's eyes widened; crimson framed by thick black lashes burning between strips of black cloth as he stared at the one thing that terrified him more than dragons or bars: a dog. A dark elf's worst nightmare. Just a glance behind him confirmed it was exactly what he had thought it was: one of the dawnguard's dogs that were now being sold as pets to the rich around the area.
'Play it cool, keep calm...' He repeated the mantra over and over in his head, but it didn't help dispel his terror any. He raised his hands in mock surrender as he backed closer to the door. Only a few more steps…
"Good dog, nice dog… Come on, Fido, dark elves aren't that tasty. We're thick skinned and hard headed…" Sanlin tried to coax the dog, speaking in hissed words. It seemed the animal in question would have none of it though. Another bark from the large canine caused his heart to jump into his throat and he scrambled. He s[um around and took off running at top speed out the door, not caring when he left it wide open in his haste to escape. The noise of the dog and his panicked escape seemed to have awoken the town, however. Candles gramed alive in windows and calls of "Thief!" could be heard throughout the night.
'And you thought working for the thief's guild would be an easy living. Hah!' Sanlin vaulted over the railing outside which seemed to stall the dog. He grunted as he rolled when he landed below. At least the target had been in Rorikstead, otherwise he might have had actual guards to contend with.
He kept to the shadows, traveling along the edges of buildings towards the outside of town. A horse pawned at the ground from where it was tired to a decrepit fence. Silently, he unties the knot and heaved himself up and onto the animal's back before patting the end of the horse. "Ho, Rakk!"
The horse took off at a gallop as it's master held its reigns in his masterful grip. After escaping from certain jail time, and perhaps an amputated hand or two, he was a pro.
Next, it was Whiterun for a small put stop and food for his horse before home to Riften.
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A sword sailed over his head, narrowly missing him as he dodged away. He rolled to the side before sliding a large hand over his dagger. The metal glowed, runes appearing around it just as it burst into flame. The sudden heat seared his open palm somewhat, but Segried had been in a hurry. He spun the blade once before sprinting forward and bringing the blade up into a wide arc. An unearthly roar echoed throughout the large dungeons as the flaming blade pierced and tore through the undead draugr's bone and tattered flesh; almost like a knife through butter.
Segried heaved as he stumbled back, fatigued already from a one on one fight. A dungeon of this level might have been too much for him as he was now, just a fledgling knight enchanter. He had not even made it to the underground antechamber yet! Trembling hands pulled down his hood before he slowly slipped down the wall behind him, spreading out his legs to keep his balance. He winced as he opened his hand and gazing at his palm, suddenly grateful he was sitting. The archmage always warned him not to hold any body part too close to what he was empowering. Now the blistering along the end of his wrist that extended along his palm was the price.
"God's Damned!" He bit off the end of his curse before standing once more. There were too many more undead here to get angry right this minute. He needed a clear head.
Segreid sheathed his knife after the enchantment wore off and sucked down a healing potion, hoping to jump start his hand's healing. As far as training, perhaps he had bitten off more than he could swallow. He would have to make his way ba-…
A draugr deathlord lumbered in front of him, torturing him as it slowly stalked towards its prey. Goosebumps covered his arms and sweat slicked the back of his keck and his palms. He was too young to die! He was only nineteen!
Steeling himself, he quickly took out his blade and raised it, glaring at his opponent. Segried mumbled out a quick spell, his blade this time crackling as it conducted electricity along the entirety of it. He was faster than the deathlord, and he wasn't wearing such heavy armor so he had the upper hand. After this, he had nothing though. There were no more magicka potions on his belt and he was exhausted enough as it was. He only had one shot at this, there were no more spells he could cast.
Segried feinted, running around the deathlord the opposite way he had swung his heavy war axe. Once he was behind him, Segried used the opponent's imbalance against him and kicked the back of his bony legs in between the thick metal plates of his armor. The monster went down with an angry screech, but he couldn't waste this opportunity on fear. Striking at the base of his neck, he decapitated the draugr. Triumph soared through him as the skull, still encased in its horned helmet, made a heavy sound on the floor.
Heavy, panting breaths left him as he stared down at the enemy. Though he could press on, he had most likely used up any of his allotted luck for that evening. It would be safer for him to turn back for now and replenish his strength and his supplies.
Segried kicked the draugr's skull, half expecting the eyes to start that unearthly blue glow once again. Maybe he would stop by Whiterun and stay at the inn before he returned to the college. Spend a night in a warm bed instead of that ice block that the teachers called a dormitory.
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Author's Note:
I was reading through the character ideas for Mass Effect Andromeda when I thought about this fanfic. In Skyrim, everyone thinks about the Dragonborn, but I wanted to start with untested characters, just like the creators for ME:A were doing. Right now, Eutrepe, Sanlin and Segried are all still growing up, just now reaching the age of adult hood. Of course, they'll become companions and grow together. Remember to comment please!