Disclaimer: I do not own Elderscrolls
Well this will be my first story on the site, if the description wasn't prof enough. Critiques and comments welcomed.
The two nords, covered head to toe in thick cloaks, wade through the knee high snow. The biting wind that whips at them might have burned the flesh of other men, mer or beastfolk, but the two continue on untroubled. The smaller of the two stops to look back at the city of Whindhelm, before turning to walk with her companion.
They stop at a small house built next to the river, and the nord man knocks on the door.
The chipped and worn red painted door opens, and standing in the doorway is an ancient and weathered dark elf.
The nord man shakes the elf's hand with a grin.
"Hail again Sai" the young soldier says.
"Good to see you too Free-Winter," says Sai, his red eyes pass from the nord to his companion.
Brunwulf looks to the smaller nord and gestures to Sai.
"My friend this is-,"
"Sai, it is a pleasure to meet you, I'm Mida" Mida interrupts shaking Sai's hand.
"Well she is bold at least. Come in, and don't track snow inside,"
Mida steps inside the cabin, and sets her belongings down on a bench next to a seat.
The interior of the cabin is far more decorated than the exterior. The furniture is in the style of most nord homes, but the walls are lined with carpets and tapestries from Morrowind. The ground is covered in wooden planks with a trap door tucked away in a corner. At the back of the room is a fireplace, not a hearth like most Nordic homes but a small alcove of stone with a fire at its heart. Row upon row of bookshelves line the walls, each cramed with tomes, scrolls and books of every shape and size. Everything was organized and set into its place.
Mida and Brunwulf stand next to the door, while Sai takes a seat in a tall wooden chair in front of the fireplace.
"She is a scholar of history, and she's wanted to meet you for a long time," says Brunwulf.
He looks Mida over for a second, then turns away to warm his hands over his fire.
"I am not interested; I'm far too old to be thinking that far back,"
"It's your choice Sai," Brunwulf says.
Mida takes a step forward and extracts a piece of parchment from her cloak.
"I promise that I won't take too much of your time, and I swear that it is for a good reason,"
Sai sits quietly for a minute, until at last turning to face Mida. His old red eyes almost seem to reflect the light of the fire behind him. Only now does she notice the burns and cuts bellow his neck.
"Why do you want to know my story? It's not a very happy one,"
"I-I know these memories must be painful, but it's a history I have to know. And if I must be honest there are few if any who saw the eruption of the Red Mountain and still live. The study of history has been my life's work, and it will never be complete without a firsthand account of the destruction of Vvardenfell,"
"On one condition,"
"Anything,"
"If I find out that you have altered my story to better entertain your readers, you will learn why we are so famed for our destruction magic,"
"And I would deserve it,"
Sai looks at her befuddled for a second before smiling.
"Well… you took that well. So where do you want me to start?" he asks.
"Well the beginning is a good a place as any,"
"Well the beginning. I guess it happened after we got on the boat. It is something else to see ash and water almost sink a ship. That was when my parents-,"
"Wait," Mida says scribbling some notes a few pages ahead.
"Could we start further back? My readers might want to know what life was like in the isle before the mountain erupted,"
"Ah, now that's a stretch. Well I guess I should start a while before that last part, let's see,"
Sai leans back into his seat and pulls out a bottle of ale from a bag on the table.
"I was the child of a merchant family, along with my sister and brother. Not very rich but we got along well enough, and I learned a thing or two about people from my parents. We lived in Vivic City, close to the water front. My father, Iril, was not a sailor by trade, but he made his living trading with the sailors who came into the city. My mother, Fadali, she was a seamstress. She made her living selling her wares to the nobles of the city,"
He pauses for a second looking at the bottle in his hand.
"Looking back, I guess it was a good childhood,"
Sai looks away out the window for a second before taking a sip of the ale and looking back at Mida.
"Now Where to begin,"