Disclaimer: Bethseda owns the Elder Scrolls franchise. I make no money from this, and the only satisfaction I gain is being able to lurk at work.
Summary: I Will Find You takes place during the last part of the main Morrowind quest and during the Bloodmoon questline. I will not follow the Bloodmoon questline religiously, more as a point of reference. I have found when I try to follow the events blow for blow, I get bored and feel too restricted. It is a story of two Khajiit, twins, one of whom is enslaved to the Daedric Prince Hircine, and how one vow can save those everyone else has given up on. Several Daedric Princes may make cameo appearances.
Differences: The only changes I have made is that my Khajiit look like the ones from The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.
Please R&R. It is very encouraging to see people review and not just "read and running". Just a quick "This is good" does wonders.
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"Hope is your survival
a captive path I lead
No matter where you go
I will find you
If it takes a long, long time
No matter where you go -
I will find you
In a place with thousand years…."
Mas'aat wrapped his coarse cloak around his lithe feline body as he followed an old deer trail, snow collecting on his whiskers and melting against his thick fur. He rarely traveled this close to the Imperial Fort Frostmouth, or for any length of time. But, when it came to the Master, his will became like putty. As long as he stayed in the distance, the sentries posted on the high stone walls would think he was nothing more than another frostbitten traveler. Which was good. He was a terrible liar, and he really had no taste for dealing with Imperials.
But his body and clothing would indicate otherwise. The Khajiit's haunted eyes and sunken cheeks spoke of long nights filled with unspeakable horrors while being trapped in a realm that was neither heaven or hell. His ears were webbed with white scars, and his right ear was missing a large chunk shaped a half-crescent moon. Mas'aat's clothing, which appeared servicable from a distance, would declare his madness to a passerby.
His leather jerkin was torn in many places, its remaining sleeve hanging in ribbons. His pants were torn at the knees, rust colored fur peeking out with each step. Mas'aat's boots appeared to be the only halfway decent article of clothing he had. However, the silver bow, arrows, and long sword were in excellent condition. If it wasn't for the look in his eyes or the way his right hand gripped the sword's pommel, someone might have thought the weapons were stolen.
He frequently glanced at the setting sun, becoming more and more restless. By the time the bloated moon began to rise, Mas'aat was running like a madman on a road to the middle of nowhere. The old blood rage began to rise like a bad case of indigestion, crippling his progress until he plowed face first into the snow. Lycanthropy contorted his limbs, making him resemble a hairy, mutant mudcrab on its back as it tried to do its best impersonation of a rolling pen. Pops and cracks that sounded like hot popping-corn emitted from his body as it stretched and grew.
Through it all Mas'aat, remained silent. He took a strange pleasure in his torment, believing that somewhere in his twisted mind, he deserved it. Maybe that was why he hated leaving Hircine's realm and reassuming his normal form. With it came memories, responsibilities, and vows that had been broken. As a beast, his mind was stripped of all his mortal concerns and replaced with simple, uncomplicated solutions, as well as a deep, unyielding hunger.
And there was one memory that he hated the most.
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"Sai'heek?"
Mas'aat rolled over on his pallet, peering through the gloom at his sister. They were twins, identical in every way except for one: his eyes. She always managed to know when something weighed on his mind. His mouth curled up into a small smile when he felt her small hand pat the top of his. The grin quickly disappeared when a loud thump came from the dining room, and the yelling began. It was the same old argument, one that Mas'aat knew every word and how it would end.
It was only their parents that seemed to think they could change it.
He felt Bes'gara flinch and he gently took her hand in his. "Nothing will happen, dear sister." When she shivered harder, Mas'aat got up and quietly wrapped her in a tight hug, Bes'gara in his lap with his head on her shoulder. He could feel, rather than see, the tears trailing down her cheeks. He gently reached around and used the pad of his thumb to wipe them away. He hated to see her face contort in anything besides a smile or laughter.
"You remember that promise we made?" Ma'saat asked as Bes'gara reached up to play with one of his shoulder-length dreadlocks.
"The one where you promised to never leave me?" She said, her tone questioning.
"Yes, I promised that wherever you went, I'd find you, even if it took a thousand years."
"A thousand years?"
Mas'aat chuckled as she began to drift off to sleep. "And I'd cross the planes of Oblivion, as well," He murmured as he listened to her breathing slowly deepen, closing his gray eyes to the sound of fists thumping against a wooden table.
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It was pounding on wood that woke Bes'gara, her lips curling in disgust as one of the sailors allowed bright, unfiltered sunshine to flood the hold.
"We've arrived at Fort Frostmouth. Get your gear and report to the commander," the Orc grumbled, his tone bordering on outright rudeness.
The woman grabbed her things and climbed up the ladder, her joints popping loudly in the early morning air. She took a few moments to shiver in the cold as she gave her new "home" an once-over. It was odd to discover in less than a year that she was the Nevarine, set to fulfill a prophecy given by Azura herself.
She was supposed to go to Red Mountain and face Dagoth Ur, but something drew her to this frozen island. Bes'gara dreamed of her silver-eyed brother, as well as a huge wolf with the same colored eyes. Her mother had given up on Ma'saat decades ago, but somehow Bes'gara knew he was alive.
And judging from the rumors, she had a feeling she might find him here. If Azura was willing, maybe she could free her brother from whatever Daedric Prince he was indebted to. Even if her brother had forgotten his promise, she had not.
Sometimes that was the only thing that kept her going.
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OK, I know that was long, but I hope ya'll enjoyed it. It may be a little dry, but it is the intro chapter. Things will pick up in the next chapter and keep increasing the pace for the rest of the chapters. Read and Review! I want to find out which Planes Bes'gara and Ma'saat might wind up going to.
Also, if enough of you respond, you will get to pick which Daedric Prince's realm they go to first. Thanks for reading!
-Warwick89