A/N: This will probablly be dryer than most of my other works. This was a novelization of The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, and would have included the content from both Bloodmoon and Tribunal Expansions. I had given this up more than a year and a half ago, but I kept in on my hard drive to possibly come back to it at a later time.
It's obvious that I haven't.
Once more, this is an incomplete introductory chapter, a detour off the beaten path and another dead idea.
Like animekingmike did in the previous chapter's review, let me know what you honestly think about this chapter. As I stated in Chapter 1, some of these ideas are good, others great and some are really bad. I've generally gotten positive feed back on most everything I've posted here, but if there is something you don't like about it, or if you just hate it in general, let me know.
The purpose of The Archive Rejects is to sort out the good ideas from the bad and perhaps to inspire others to take up the reigns on certain ideas. As long as you let me know first, I have no problem with others using the ideas within this drabble fic. I just want to read what you guys can come up with, with the ficlets I inspired you with.
Well that's pretty much all I have to say for now. Let me know what you guys thought of this one...
Good? Bad? Ugly?
Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Welcome To Morrowind...
The storm was raging. The wind howling and visibility was nil. This wasn't an ordinary storm however. The sky was crimson and red sand was blowing all about. The man leaned heavily on his staff, his robes billowing in the wind. At the very edge of his vision he could see creatures moving about, but as he looked for them, they were gone. He slowly, but surely, made his way up the mountain. As he did so, he heard a voice whispering to him, almost beckoning to him. He could just barely make it out over the wind. As quickly as he heard it, the voice was gone again... Replaced by a much deeper raspy voice.
'Wake up,' it said. The man was puzzled by what this meant as his world suddenly became hazy and went black...
The same man rose, shaking his head. He saw the same Dunmer, or Dark Elf, that had been with him since they had been moved from Cyrodil. Juib, was his name. He was bald and his face lightly scared. His red eyes still had a bit of fire to them, obviously the last few years of imprisonment had done nothing to break his spirit. The man concentrated to remember details, both about his current reality and the dream he just had.
Juib... The man, or elf rather, was a burglar, and a fine good one too. One of the best in all of the Empire. It was mere luck that he had been caught. He was also one of the nicer prisoners to him when he had been imprisoned. The two had become friends and constantly looked out for one another. That was a kinship that was ending today... For they were both being relocated in different parts of the Empire. His stop was in Seyda Neen, in Morrowind...
Trying to remember details from the dream he could only remember but a few words from the beckoning voice. 'Prophecy... Nevarine... Morrowind... Dagoth Ur...' Try as he might, the vivid dream was slowly fading from memory. His thoughts were severed and the dream forgotten when he heard Juib's voice once more.
"I overheard one of the guards talking... We should be there soon..." said the Dark Elf, "That must have been some dream... You were thrashing about, not even last night's storm could wake you."
"I don't really remember too much of it... Just a lot of blowing red sand and a huge mountain... Still, I was better off than I am now..." he said looking down at his shackles and rags, "I the dream I was free..." A hatch could be heard being opened and footsteps coming towards their cell.
"Quiet, here comes the guard!" whispered Juib. The guards, while not as cruel as some, where especially strict with the two of them. Juib, because he was a Dark Elf and an associate of his, and himself, because he was believed to be a traitor of sorts to the crown, and if there was anything Imperials had it was pride and loyalty to their just and noble emperor, Uriel Septum the IV.
"Alright, you!" growled the burly guard. The man had no doubt, despite the guard's size, that he could take the disgruntled guard. "We've arrived. Head up topside filth!"
"Good bye, friend, I hope to see you again..." said the man to his Dark Elf companion.
"Godspeed, Cyrodil..." Juib replied.
"Cut the chatter!" shouted the guard as he grabbed the prisoner roughly by the shirt.
"Alright, I'm going..." he muttered. He followed the big burly guard up a deck and aft until they came to another hatch. He looked around the room at his current surroundings. They were currently in the crews galley, which was empty save for one other guard, a Breton, by the look of her. He merely looked at him with the same contempt the big burly guard had.
"Get up on deck!" said the burly guard. The prisoner sighed. This was going to be a long day if the rest of the morning was anything to judge by...
As the hatch above him opened he had to cover his eyes against the glare of the sun. It wasn't particularly bright out, although it was early morning and there were only a few clouds out, but he had been below decks for so long he had barely remembered what actual sunlight was like. He took a moment to stretch and then looked over at the dark skinned man in front of him. A Redguard... He looked upon the prisoner with a bit of pity. He was one of the few who had believed him innocent and had been demoted for it. Still, it was people like him that had made the voyage more bearable, and despite the demotion, he was still one of the senior officers on board if his chain mail armor was anything to go by... The others wore simple leather armor bearing the Imperial Crest.
"Just go down onto the dock for processing, they're all set for you..." said the new guard.
"Thank you," said the prisoner sincerely.
"Enjoy your freedom," the Redguard managed a weak smirk, "And... Try to stay out of trouble..."
"Well... Since I have nothing but the clothes on my back... That may be a little difficult..." said the prisoner honestly.
"You were one of the best and most resourceful men in the Legion, you'll get by... You always did..." said the Redguard, "Now off with you, you have a new life ahead of you..."
The prisoner left the small ship and made his way down the brow onto the dock were there was yet another guard waiting for him. Unlike the guards on the ship, he was wearing a full Imperial Legionnaire uniform. He was definitely Cyrodil by birth, though the man highly doubted he had ever stepped foot out of Morrowind itself. The man wore a full chain mail ensemble with a purple Imperial Skirt. A broad sword hung from the man's waist, and he carried himself regally. Aside from the Redguard, this man was the most threatening person the prisoner had met in some time.
"You've finally arrived, but your papers don't say from where," said the Imperial Guardsman.
"I'm an Imperial by birth, from Cyrodil," said the prisoner. The guard looked him over and nodded his head.
"Very well," said the Imperial, "I'll just take you to the Census and Excise Office so Socucius Ergalla can finish up the papers for your release."
The prisoner just nodded and allowed the guard to lead him the short distance to where he was to be processed and released. He walked into the stone building. He noticed it was a bit shabby, but well built. The inside had a bit of a comfortable feeling to it. The town, he noticed, may be a bit poor and remote, but the Imperial Legion obviously did well for themselves. The guard left and he was met by another. This one was higher in rank than the last, the prisoner noted, as his armor was a bit higher in quality. Imperial Steal Armor, how he longed to wear the uniform again... Had it really been so long? He shook the thoughts from his head. He had other things to worry about for now... Like how in the hell he was going to last more than a few days in Morrowind with only the clothes on his back.
"Ah, yes... We've been expecting you!" said and old man in not particularly impressive robes, though they were expensive looking, definitely more than a commoner could afford, this was obviously Socucius. "We just have to finish up a few more formalities before we sign off on your release. Now then... What is your name?"
"Orlanden Star," answered the prisoner.
"And... What are your skills to speak of?" asked Socucius.
Orlanden thought a moment, "I was part of the Imperial Guard of the Legion back in Cyrodil. I'm used to fighting in heavy or medium weight armor, and I am exceptionally skilled in the used of long bladed sword, more particularly Claymores... I have limited skills in both Alchemy and the Magical Schools of Alteration and Restoration and I can make minor repairs to armor and weapons..." He really did not see the point in this, but answered the old man's questions any way. "I have also had some training in security and moving silently, and I have a little training in basic unarmored, hand-to-hand fighting and the use of short blades.
"Hmm... Now, you were born under a certain sign... Which would that be?" he asked, not looking up from the parchment, though he did look thoughtful. Then again, it wasn't often that one encountered one who'd been born under one of the thirteen constellations who was a prisoner. They were usually noblemen, or heroes of some sort, not prisoners who had nothing to speak of.
"The Lady," answered the prisoner, Socucius nodded his head as he scribbled it down on the parchment. When he finished he turned to the prisoner.
"Alright then," he said as he rolled up the parchment and sealed it. "Just go over into the next building and Captain Sellus Gravius will give you your orders for your release. I suspect you'll be causing quite a stir here in Morrowind." The old man had no idea just how right he was...
Orlanden only nodded, not really sure of how to answer that. As he left, he noticed various items in the room. Not the least a dull dagger, a ring that looked to be enchanted, and a lock pick. He took each of these, an used the pick on the small chest before pocketing it. The lock was pathetically easy and he pocketed the small amount of coins that were inside. He really didn't approve of theft of any kind but if he wanted to survive he needed money for weapons, food and shelter. Not that a dagger, thirty gold pieces, an enchanted ring, and a lock pick would get him far... Still it was more than he started out with. He also helped himself to a bit of the food that was already on the table before heading out.
He stepped out of the building and noticed that the sun was sitting a bit higher in the sky than he had expected. He must have spent more time in there being processed by the old man than he had thought. He preceded into the next building, not that he could go anywhere else, because the entire area between the two buildings was enclosed by a tall stone wall. 'Oh well...' he thought, 'might as well get my orders then...'
Orlanden entered the next building and saw an imposing man standing there with a half finished lunch. He wore golden armor, which also bore the Imperial Crest. 'Imperial Templar Armor...' he thought to himself absently. He couldn't help but sigh. After all, at one time he had worn armor like the one the Captain in front of him was wearing.
"Hello," said Captain Gravius, he was neither callous nor welcoming, but somewhere in between, quite the professional, and carried himself in a manner that said he had seen much. He was a seasoned warrior despite his somewhat youthful appearance. "Let's take a look at your release papers." Orlanden silently handed them to him. After looking at the papers a moment, the captain scratched his beard a moment and then look a piece of parchment from a near by drawer and scribbled down a short note. "You are to report to Caius Cosades in Balmora. Give him this note, these are your orders from the Emperor."
Orlanden frowned a bit. He had no idea why he had been transferred from the Imperial City and now he had just found out he was on direct orders from the Emperor himself. He wondered what could possibly be happening. Perhaps it was all a set-up... Only time would tell he figured. "How do I get to Balmora?" asked the now former-prisoner.
"Just take the main path through town north. You can either take the path north to Hila Oad... which is mostly swamp and wilderness and not very many Legion or House patrols run through there, so you'll likely encounter bandits... Or you could take the path east past the Silt Rider to Peliagad. Encounters with bandits are not very likely, but it will probably take you a day or so longer to reach Balmora. There is an Imperial Garrison there, as well as an Inn and a couple shops."
"Which would you recommend?" asked Orlanden.