Seven Saviors of Cyrodiil
Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter in this story. Now we go back to our newest pair as they discover what is next for them. We also may meet a new friend. Now that I sound like barney or teletubbies or something, I suddenly desire to go on with the story. Here we go!
Chapter 2: The Northern Barbarian
"So did you ever make your decision, Gerich? Have you decided what to do with your magic amulet yet?" Adanrael murmered.
They were sitting on the rickety chair in front of Gerich's fireplace. It was the month of Frost Fall, after all, and getting chillier. How were two people sitting in one chair, you might ask? Well, of course, in light of their newly discovered romance, Adanrael was sitting on Gerich's lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other hand holding Gerich's right hand. The fire was merrily crackling in the hearth, and all was quiet. The guards and pirates had stopped running around the waterfront searching for Adanrael now, but she was in no hurry to leave. Besides, the roads were crawling with creatures at night, and the safest place to be was here in the house of her beloved. Gerich stared into the fire, thinking about this task, one arm wrapped around Adanrael's waist, the other holding her hand as he thought.
"After thinking this matter over, I suspect that my task is divinely planned out, and that I should just accept this task. But I honestly don't think of myself to be the hero that Uriel Septim thought me to be. I'm a mere archer and former mercenary, not some courageous captain of soldiers with unlimited skill and superior power. I only survive, I don't rule or lord over anyone," he said to her. "I just don't think I'm the right man for the job."
Adanrael kissed him again. When they broke apart, she spoke:
"Gerich, even assassins of the Dark Brotherhood know that the Emperor was a great man. He knew things that others didn't, perhaps a gift of the Septim Bloodline and the dragon blood that runs in the veins of all of the Emperors. You must be the right man for the job if the Emperor himself picked you. Maybe you were in that cell for a specific reason," she surmised.
Gerich laughed. "Ha! Yes! For deeply insulting a hated noble's mother."
Adanrael giggled.
"I mean otherworldly reasons, Gerich! I honestly think you should do as the Emperor told you."
Gerich sighed. It wasn't like he had had a large to-do list after escaping prison with the help of the Emperor himself.
"All right, but what about you, Adanrael? I suppose you'll be leaving to get another contract," he said, sadly, fearing an imminent breakup.
"The only way I'm leaving," she whispered as she leaned her forehead against his, "Is if I leave with you."
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The next morning, Gerich cooked breakfast as Adanrael assembled her gear together on the bed. Adanrael made sure her gear was ready, and set out Gerich's gear on the table. They both ate Gerich's breakfast of fruits and venison.
"Everything's set, Gerich," Adanrael said matter-of-factly.
"Are you sure?" Gerich said with a laugh, pointing at her. "If you feel comfortable walking around the house in that state, I won't stop you. But I might have something to say if you go walking around town and countryside in your underclothes."
Adanrael punched him in the arm as he roared with laughter. "Pervert," she said teasingly.
A few hours later, they set out on the road to Weynon Priory. After they left the suburban town of Weye behind, they were walking down the road side-by-side, wary of enemies and creatures. Gerich looked over at Adanrael and smiled softly. She was walking, her bow in one hand, her other hand ready to pull an arrow. She was walking along, looking like she was thinking about the past. He took her hand gently, and she turned and smiled softly at him, broken out of her reverie. They walked hand in hand for a while, and chatted idly about the beauty of the forest around them. Then Gerich asked her about her past. She looked straight ahead, a stony look crossing her pretty features.
"I was born in Valenwood, and raised in the house of an elven noble. My mother died giving birth to my brother. My brother was the product of my mother's affair with a dark elf, and he was sent away into Cyrodiil to live in a foster home. I don't know what happened to him. I was home one night, alone, when I was summoned to the dining hall by my father. I went down, in my gown, and went into the hall. My father was sitting in his throne, and as I moved in, he snapped his fingers and twelve of his top men entered the room. He said that he was tired of my presence in his house, that I was a reminder of my mother's treachery to him. He told his men that they could… have their fun with me, and then they should kill me when they were done. He left the room, and they advanced. I was roughly grabbed, and stripped of my dress. I was about to be subjected to their evils when I saw a rare chance: One of the men had their silver short sword near my right hand. In a last moment of resistance, I grabbed it, ripped it out of the sheath, and skewered the men holding me to the table. Kicking their leader in the face, I ran for it. I jumped out a window and hid on the forest floor. Wild with rage, I returned to my father's house three days later. I waited for night to fall, and crept in. I killed four of the men as they slept, slitting their throats. I collected my clothes and belongings and went to my father's chambers. I entered, and he was sitting in his chair by the fireplace reading. I boldly stated my intentions to kill him and every man he had had ready to do unspeakable evils to me, and stated that four were already dead. I bade him to come, raise a weapon against me, call his friends. He called for his remaining men, and the six of the men not dead came charging into the room. I killed them all. One by one they fell fighting me, and my father cowered in his chair. I took a bow from one of them, and his arrows. I then coldly put an arrow through my father's neck. With his dying breath, he insulted my name. Later that night, I was woken by a man who initiated me into the Dark Brotherhood. Since then, I've killed a pirate. And then I met you."
Adanrael's expression suddenly became worried. Gerich wondered what was wrong. Then it clicked.
"Adanrael, you have nothing to fear. I won't betray you, ever," he said. She turned to him, unshed tears in her eyes. He continued, "I won't ever take advantage of you or use you. You are more important to me than all of Cyrodiil."
Her lower lip trembled. "You promise?" she asked him.
"I do," he said with a grin, and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with a passion.
--
They eventually made it to Weynon Priory, and went in. They were greeted by the shepherd Eronor, who told them to enter the chapel house. There they were intercepted by a monk named Prior Maborel, who inquired why they were there.
"We're here to see Jauffre," he told Maborel.
"Oh, he's upstairs, go ahead," the Prior said.
They went up the staircase to the right, and entered a small study. A doorway led to a room that Gerich presumed to be a bedroom. An older, balding, white-haired monk sat at the desk. (Author's Note: I know that we have seen this weary old monk sitting at this desk and heard this dialogue before, but bear with me, and I'll try to jazz it up a little, seeing as we'll have three people in the dialogue.)
The monk looked up as they approached, and put down a small metal clasp he had been tracing a pattern on with a quill. As the clasp rolled slightly on the hardwood desk, Gerich noticed the markings on it: a silver semicircle on a flat plain with lines arcing out like rays from it. At least, that's what he thought it looked like, although it could just be marred by the gigantic disfigurement on it from the blade of an Akaviri Katana…
"I'm Brother Jauffre, what do you want?" he asked curtly.
Unsure of what to say, Gerich plowed recklessly in and bluntly got to the point.
"I have brought you the Amulet of Kings," he said. Jauffre's eyes widened in shock for a moment, then suspiciously, he stared hard up at Gerich and Adanrael.
"You have the Amulet of Kings? Give it here," he ordered. He looked at it, tracing a finger over the patterns and the fiery gem, a suddenly lost look on his face. A tear fell from his eye and hit the stone, which briefly flared into a comfortable orange color.
"By the Gods, this is the Amulet of Kings! How did you get this?"
And so for the second time in a week, the young archer told his story again to the now-determined monk…
Later on, after having a cup of tea, Gerich sat thinking on the task given him by Jauffre:
"You must go to Kvatch and find the priest named Martin in the Chapel of Akatosh. He is the lone heir to the throne, now that his father and brothers are all dead. Bring him here, so that we can plan what lays ahead for Tamriel."
As he went down to join the monks for a simple meal of bread, fruit, and venison, he heard a female voice waft up the stairs.
"Been writing your mother again, I see, Piner. Just listen to me when I tell you that there's no dealing with paranoia of her kind. Just telling her to calm down in light of this assassination crisis isn't going to do anything. Just leave her alone, and when she figures out you aren't as bothered by it as she is, even if you are, she'll realize there's nothing to fear if her dearest monk son doesn't fear anything…"
Gerich recognized the accent of the northern people, the Nords. He walked down the stairs and down to the dinner table, where he sat next to Adanrael. She was giggling at the conversation between the flustered young monk and the Nordic woman who was looking over a crumpled paper that had been under her chair. Prior Maborel was chuckling into his venison, but Brother Jauffre was staring into his wine as he swished it around in the goblet, looking pensive. Brother Piner looked at him and spoke, relieved to change the topic.
"Ah, good friend Gerich, this, erm, boisterous young woman is named Loryn Hall-Shamer. She meets her name perfectly, as well," he said in a hidden jab at Loryn.
"Funny, Brother Piner, perhaps you should take up the lute and entertain at inns across Cyrodiil rather than pray to Talos," Loryn said. She then looked at Gerich and gave him a once-over.
"Calloused fingers, especially apparent on the index finger and thumb, keen eye, strong arms, you must be an archer," she analyzed before taking a drink from her flagon. "And you, Bosmer… You have a keen eye, but rather than focus it on one target like an archer, you move between targets. You have a calculating look about you, and you sit in one corner where you can see all the entrances and exits, and analyze the full goings-on of the room you are in. Your fingers also flex frequently. I am guessing an assassin…"
"Wow," Gerich said to Adanrael, "She has us figured out!"
But at the word 'assassin' Jauffre shot up onto his feet, hurling his dinner knife at Adanrael, and in the same motion, twirling and drawing a massive katana. Adanrael reacted instantly, bringing her fist down onto the edge of her plate, sending the wooden plate spinning into the air, where it rotated and caught the blade dead-center. She drew her dagger and crouched on her chair. Gerich and Loryn rose, as the other two monks sat in shock.
"Brother Jauffre, what is the meaning of this assault?" Gerich demanded.
"I would hesitate to speak, archer, as your arrival with her puts you in a bad light as well. Who killed the Emperor, assassin? I want to know!"
Adanrael regarded him with a cool gaze. "The Dark Brotherhood had NO hand in the Emperor's murder. The Brotherhood doesn't sanction contracts involving political targets. The Emperor recognized the Dark Brotherhood as an organization that would serve to eliminate the greater evils of the empire, such as necromancers, pirates, bandits, and, ironically, cultists. The Dark Brotherhood would not accept a contract to kill the Emperor even if all of Tamriel were the prize, if all of Nirn were the prize. The organization that murdered the Emperor is definitely not associated with the Dark Brotherhood or the Morag Tong of Morrowind. This organization is therefore new."
The tensions eased as Jauffre apologized for his… 'snap judgment' and dinner ended with a conversation concerning the action plan for the next day.
"Gerich, you and Adanrael will need to head for Kvatch immediately tomorrow morning. You must find Martin the Priest, and bring him safely here. The enemy must not succeed in their plan, otherwise, all of Tamriel will be doomed. If Mehrunes Dagon, Daedric God of Oblivion is involved, the world will likely burn," Jauffre said grimly.
"I'd like to go with them, Jauffre, if you don't mind," Loryn said with interest.
"You, a Myrmidon in the Imperial City Arena, want to participate in saving the empire?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, if you reason it out, no Empire, no arena. I doubt Mehrunes Dagon would be interested in keeping the arena how it is. So that's my personal interest. But I also have nothing better to do, as challenges are slow of late. So I'll put my axes to use for them."
"Then it's settled, Jauffre, for with the three of them, what can possibly go wrong?" Prior Maborel said with a chuckle.
Little did they know that later that night, as they slept, the city of Kvatch would be the first to burn under the fires of Dagon's great Siege Crawler, and flow with the blood of the town as Daedra hacked, slashed, clawed, and ripped flesh with talon and weapon alike…
The next morning, as they prepared to set out, Prior Maborel took Gerich aside.
"Gerich, I want you to take my horse. She is unnamed, but she is one of the best bred paint horses in the entirety of Cyrodiil. She is fast, smart, and insightful. Of late, my duties have prevented me from taking her on journeys to other priories, but she should be perfectly happy to go with you."
"Well Prior, I have no idea what to say! Thank you for such a generous offer! I'll be sure to take very good care of her," Gerich said.
And with Adanrael and Loryn borrowing the other two horses in the Weynon Priory's stables, they set off for Kvatch. But just as they were riding down the southwest road, two men, one a Redguard, the other a Dunmer, were struggling up the hill from the woods south of the priory, in search of the healing powers of the monks there…
Ha! A good cliffhanger, no? Have no fear, I am working on the next chapter as you read this one, most likely. The reason for delays to my writing is that I am now officially…. A COLLEGE STUDENT!!!! Which not only offers me freedom from a two hour computer limit at home, but it provides me with no specific writing curfew. Naturally, assignments may get in the way, but you can start expecting updates to this story, and my other story in the Fire Emblem section, the Escapades of Ewan, a bit more frequently. Enjoy until next time.
-Shadowgeneral88
