STH
Chapter 2: Stranded
Her eyes fluttered open, and instantly she knew she was no longer tucked in her cushy, warm inn bed.
Skadi heard several moans cut through the air as others stirred from their slumber. Someone, a frost giant, was muttering incoherently to himself, spouting out nonsense and ramblings.
She sat upright. A thick, wool cloak - her cloak - spilled from off her shoulders and down to her lap. Someone had covered her up, protecting her from the freezing elements. Her eyes widened in bewilderment at the sight of her surroundings.
She was definitely not in the small tavern in Raven Rock she crashed in the night before. She was in the frozen tundra of northern Solstheim at the mouth of a gaping cave on a glacial cliff.
"You," an Imperial male said, pointing at her, getting to his feet. "Do you know where we are?" He was donning Legionnaire armor, leather and iron interwoven in its simplistic yet practical design. An Imperial steel sword rested in its holster along his hip, a steel shield fastened to his back. This man was a soldier.
"No," Skadi replied, wiping the remaining sleep from her eyes. "Not exactly. I believe we are in the north."
"Who brought us here?" asked a Nord male, pushing himself to a standing position. "Why are we here?"
"I don't know," Skadi answered, getting to her feet and brushing off the ice flecks and snow dustings stuck to her leather leggings and hide boots. It dawned on her she was wearing her armor - studded hide cuirass, leather gauntlets in addition to her leggings and boots. She even wore her enchanted jewelry - her amulet of Kynareth, an emerald encrusted circlet enchanted in stamina and her ring of restoration.
How strange, she thought, appraising her jewelry. I remember taking these off last night.
She grabbed her cloak and secured it around her shoulders. She instantly felt warmer since the garment was enchanted to protect her from extreme weather and temperatures - a must have in her line of work.
Her eyes returned to the Nord male, who began pacing around the mouth of the cave. He was dressed in carved Nordic heavy armor, forged from the finest steel in all of Tamriel. His rugged appearance was one of a typical son of Skyrim - brown hair braided at his temples and hung loosely along his face and jawline. His scruffy beard looked as if his face hadn't seen a clean shave in weeks. His grey eyes looked exhausted, not from lack of sleep but from spending most of his life engaged in war, which unfortunately, most Nord warriors had, even in Solstheim.
The frost giant, with his elongated head and massive goat-like horns spiraling upwards from the sides of his skull, continued to mutter near the cave's mouth, rocking his body large back and forth.
"What's your deal?" asked the Nord male, stopping his pacing a few feet in front of the massive, white-haired creature.
"We die," he muttered, his five eyes wide and staring off into nothingness. "We die. All die."
"Alright..." The Nord huffed and rolled his eyes. "Seems like one of us woke up on the wrong side of the bedroll."
There were four of them, four souls stranded in this frozen hell. There wasn't a single sign of life other than them - no vegetation and no fauna. Just cold, desolate emptiness. Not even the gods would choose to come to that forsaken, isolated place.
Skadi spotted her knapsack a few feet away from where she awoke. Her glass bow, quiver full of ebony arrows and her twin elven daggers were neatly displayed and organized. Even the daggers were tucked away securely in their holsters. She quickly fastened her weapons belt, quiver and bow to her body, not wanting to risk the chance of being caught off guard and weaponless. She didn't know who her current companions were, and surely, she didn't trust them.
She noticed the others were armed with weapons as well.
The Imperial rummaged through his knapsack, searching for food, water and whatever supplies he could find. The frost giant sat with his back against an ice covered stone wall, his horned head in his giant clawed hands, muttering incoherent fragments about a prophecy. The Nord continued to pace along the cliff side and back to the mouth of the cave, his war ax and steel shield fastened to his back.
Skadi was a young Nord female with long sepia hair that shimmered a coppery hue in the sunlight and had deep brown eyes that were sharp and alert. She was hunter by trade, dangerous with a blade and deadly with a bow. She was passing through Solstheim on her way to Falkreath in Skyrim, her homeland. After a long stint in Morrowind as a mercenary for hire for House Hluauu, she was ready to return home. She worked a deal with the East Empire Company and would catch a ferry ride back to the mainland from Raven Rock, a small mining settlement and seaport in Solstheim. She was eager to leave the life of a mercenary and use her earnings and savings to start a life fresh back in Falkreath.
Just had one more night left. I was almost home, Skadi thought to herself, peering over the ice cliff they were stranded on.
It was a long way down.
A brief thought fluttered through her mind.
Jump. Jump and be done with this damned place. You're so tired. Go home.
She quickly squashed the thought, brushing it aside attributing the insane idea to anxiety playing tricks on her mind. Surely Sovngrade wouldn't open its golden gates for suicides no matter how noble and heroic they were in life. She blamed Sheogorath for attempting to influence her. She had spent the last seven years in a land that worshipped the Deadra. She had seen with her own eyes the influence and the infamous wrath brought on by the Daedric Princes.
"For the love of Akatosh," cursed the Imperial, running his hands through his chestnut hair, closing his deep green eyes in frustration. "Un-fetching-believable."
"Easy there, saber toothed tiger," said the Nord, tossing a rock encased in a layer of ice off the edge of the cliff. "We're all in this hell hole together."
"What's the last thing you remember?" asked the Imperial to the Nord. "Before you woke up here?"
"I was in my room in Skaal," he answered. "Halfway to Oblivion in my drunken state. Telling ya, that Morrowind wine will get you every time. The poison sneaks up on you if you're not careful."
"Can't you be serious?" said the Imperial.
"At a time like this?" retorted the Nord loudly, motioning to his surroundings. "Absolutely not."
"Hopeless Nord," the Imperial muttered. He turned his attention back to Skadi who was still dangerously close to the edge of the glacier cliff, dangling her feet over the ledge. He crouched down to his knees so he was at eye level with her, not wanting to look over the edge himself. "Miss, what's the last thing you remember?" His tone was calm yet stern.
"I was in Raven Rock holed up for the night," she answered, her deep brown eyes meeting his. "I rented a room at the tavern and went to sleep. Next thing I know, I'm here."
"I see," he said coolly. "You, frost giant, what do you remember?"
The white-haired creature raised his head, his eyes glaring. "Karstaag sleep in Karstaag Castle. Karstaag woke. Now Karstaag here."
"Perfect," he mumbled. "We all remember falling asleep for the night and all woke up here. What's your name, miss?"
"Skadi," she answered.
"I'm Captain Falx Carius. Imperial Knight for the Imperial Legion stationed here in Solstheim. I'll find us a way off this glacier."
Great, a fetching hero, thought Skadi, stopping herself from rolling her eyes in irritation.
Falx radiated in confidence and subliminally demanded respect and obedience. It didn't impress Skadi, however. She found most Imperials snobbish with the innate desire to rule over anyone they felt were inferior. Imperials rivaled the haughty Altmers in her opinion. Both wanting to dominate. Both ignorant and shallow races. Yet, given the current situation she was in, she'd play nice with the Imperial for the time being.
Falx returned to his feet and walked to the opening of the cave, peering down into its aphotic depths.
"I'm going to explore the cave and see where it leads to," he said. "Hopefully it goes to another entrance and off this bloody glacier."
"Good luck," mumbled Skadi under her breath.
Several Solstheim caves were mined for precious metals, such as stahlrim, especially in the frozen northern regions of the island. This cave could possibly be one of those excavated caves. However, even the most well-prepared dungeon diver still risked meeting Arkay before being dragged to the afterlife since many caves were crawling with dangers including savage reiklings and bristlebacks.
"Does anyone know any magicka?" asked Falx.
The Nord and frost giant both shook their heads while Skadi nodded. She had dabbled in magicka over the years amongst the Dunmer. Nothing serious, but just enough to get her by in a life or death situation.
"I suggest building a fire if possible," he said. "We may be here for a while and it's best to stay warm in the meantime."
Skadi looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun's light. Wispy clouds floated slowly through the bright azure atmosphere, the sun shining brilliantly high in the center of the sky. She estimated it was about mid day. It would be twilight in a matter of hours. Northern Nirn tended to fall to darkness much earlier than the southern mainlands during Sun's Dusk. With temperatures plummeting below freezing in the evening, it wouldn't take long for them all to succumb to the elements - except for the frost giant.
"How will you be able to see in there?" asked the Nord, pointing to the dark, yawning opening. "In case you haven't noticed, it's pitch black in there. You have Night Eye capabilities? You part Khajiit, Imperial?"
"No," replied Falx. "I can cast simple candlelight spells. I'll be fine. Thank you for your concern," he said sarcastically. "And it's Captain Carius, not Imperial, Nord." He added the last bit with disdain since he was not used to other people, specifically other races, hassling him.
"I'll return soon," he continued, heading into the mouth of the cave, flicking his wrist and tossing a ball of light into the air. The candlelight hovered over his head,providing just enough light to illuminate a decent sized circumference around him. "Don't go anywhere."
"Like we could even if we wanted to," muttered the Nord male, crossing his gauntleted arms over his broad, silver cuirass.
Ignoring the remark, Falx trekked down an icy slope and disappeared into the maws of the cave.
"So what's your story, sweetheart?" the Nord asked turning to Skadi as she fumbled through her knapsack for a spare tunic to use as fuel for a flame spell.
Thank Talos whomever the fetching s'wit was who whisked her away at least had the decency to grab her travel pack and gear before dumping her unceremoniously at the top of Solstheim. They all had weapons and supplies, which made the situation all the stranger.
"What do you mean 'what's my story?'" she asked, annoyance thick in her voice.
"I mean what's your name?" he clarified.
"It's not sweetheart," she replied, balling the tunic up before setting it on the ground. She rubbed her hands together, readying herself for the spell. She aimed her open palms at the fabric, summoning her inner magicka, the spell forming and pooling on her lips. In an instant, flames rolled from her palms down her fingertips then jumped to the tunic before igniting the woolen material. Proud of herself, Skadi got to her feet and held her hands to the fire, soaking up the sparking flames' warmth. The fire should last for hours, and since it was magicka, wouldn't burn the tunic.
"Impressive," awed the Nord, walking up to the fire to bask in its warmth. "Where did you learn magicka? I didn't think many Nords would take up such a vocation."
"I don't know much," she said. "I lived amongst the Dunmers in Morrowind. I'm a hunter. Simple magicka elevates my chances of survival."
The Nord furrowed his brows. "What kind of hunting do you do that would require you to use magicka to survive?"
"People," she replied nonchalantly, giving a slight smile.
The Nord whistled. "Remind me to stay on your good side. I'm Tharsten Heart-Fang from Skaal. Born and raised right here in Solstheim." He held out his right hand towards Skadi.
"Skadi of Falkreath," replied Skadi, taking his hand with hers and giving a firm shake.
Tharstan smiled. "Nice to meet you, Skadi. I would say it was a pleasure to meet you if we weren't in this gods-forsaken situation." Tharsten paused. "Skyrim, huh? You're far from home, huntress."
"Yes, I know. I was on my way home before I ended up here."
Skadi returned to her knapsack and began rummaging through its pockets. She recalled stuffing a...Yes! Here it is! She fished out a folded piece of parchment from a concealed pouch deep in her knapsack and quickly opened the paper and scanned its contents. It was a map of Solstheim she used on her journey from Vvardenfell, Morrowind to Raven Rock. If it was one thing she always carried with her as a mercenary, it was a map of the region she was in. That and a well sharpened dagger.
"That a map you got there?" asked Tharsten, looking over her shoulder.
"What does it look like?" she quipped. She glanced up from the map and swiveled her head, taking in her surroundings then turned back to the map.
"This is where we are," she said pointing at a landmark in the northern region of the map.
She was right, they were in northern Solstheim. Mortrag Glacier to be exact. A large, glacial mountain which happened to be located in one of the most uninhabitable regions on the whole bloody island. Oh why couldn't they be dumped off in a remote area in south? At least then there would be trees and vegetation. And warmth.
"There's no hope getting off this glacier," said Skadi woefully. "We're stranded. Unless," she turned her attention to the dark cave. "unless we travel through the cave..." her voice trailed off as she glanced back to the map. At the southern base of the mountain was what appeared to be the entrance to an abandoned mine. There is a chance the cave leads to the mine. She wasn't going to wait around for the elements to take her so navigating through a dark, dangerous cave was a chance she was willing to take.
"Looks like the cave is our only chance," she said, stuffing the map back into her pack and sat herself next to the fire. "I suggest we wait for Captain Carius to return. We'd increase our chances of survival if we traveled together."
"Not much else to do in the meantime," replied Tharsten."
They sat together in the warmth of the fire in unnerving silence for several hours. The sun was beginning to set as dusk threatened to take over the sky. Wolves howled in the distance. Thankfully they were high up off the ground they wouldn't have to fend off the beasts. However, with night rapidly approaching, the temperature would only get colder. Skadi pinched the tunic in spots not currently on fire and slid the magicked flames into the cave to get out of the breeze funneling through the glacial crevices. She flopped back down on the icy cavern floor and stared into the flickering fire, the flames plastering eerie shadows along the cave walls.
"Cheer up," Tharsten said, plopping down next to Skadi. "Captain Cyrodiil will be here before you know it."
"It's Captain Carius," she corrected.
"I know," he smiled. "Just like to poke fun at Imperials like him. So full of themselves and uptight. That's no way to live."
"And I suppose making light of every situation is? Especially when it's life or death?"
"Indeed," his smile grew bigger, reaching his eyes. "That's the best time to joke. Makes a baneful situation tolerable."
Silence washed over the two for a few minutes as they sat by the fire.
"So you're a hunter? That's admirable. I, myself, am a barbarian. Warrior right down to the core."
"Do you always talk too much?"
"Only in dire circumstances," he said quickly. "Hey, Frosty!" Tharsten shouted at the frost giant. "Want to come over here and get warm?"
The giant shook his head. "Fire hurt Karstaag. Karstaag not hurt by cold."
"At least come over here and talk to us. You make me nervous sitting by yourself over there like you're plotting to kill us."
Karstaag pushed himself to his massive feet and stomped over to Tharsten and Skadi, keeping a safe distance from the fire, yet still part of the group.
"Skadi over here is a hunter. What do you think about that, Frosty?"
Karstaag's five eyes shifted over to Skadi, looking her up and down as if evaluating her. His black irises made her feel uncomfortable, as if he was sizing her up, scrutinizing her, contemplating how he would make her his next meal.
"Hunter good," he said. "Hunter survive. Survive prophecy."
"Prophecy?" Skadi asked. "What prophecy?"
"That prophecy is just a myth," said Tharsten, waving his hand dismissing Karstaag's comment. "It's not real. Just a story."
"Prophecy real," said Karstaag, thumping his chest with a closed fist, emphasizing his point.
"What is this prophecy?" Skadi asked a second time.
"The Bloodmoon Prophecy," said Tharsten. "Apparently it happens once an era."
"Prophecy real," repeated Karstaag, practically shouting.
"Yeah, yeah, Frosty," he said, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, legend has it there are four signs of the prophecy. The first sign is the appearance of the werewolves."
"Hounds here," said Karstaag. "First sign here."
"I think it's just a coincidence those fetching beasts showed up," interjected Tharsten. "I was there when they attacked Skaal. Since it's winter, they'll come out of hiding and into habited areas searching for food."
Skadi nodded. There had been an awful lot of werewolves reported near the populated areas. Perhaps it was a coincidence.
The howling wolves returned. They were getting closer. Skadi couldn't help but think they were the werewolves running rampant through the region - savage, blood-thirsty werewolves. Whatever wolf beasts roamed the area, she was sure they knew they were stranded on the glacier.
"The second," said Tharsten, ticking away on his finger. "Is the 'Fire from the Eye of Glass.' That nut job shaman, Korst Wind-Eye, said it happened in the middle of Lake Fjalding, that frozen lake near the Felsaad Coast. He claimed there was some strange pillar of fire shooting out from the center of the frozen lake. I think that's all skooma talk."
"Fire part of prophecy," interrupted the frost giant.
"Really?" asked Tharsten, raising his eyrbrows in mock surprise. "Everyone knows if anything strange happens on or under that lake, it's from that bag of bones Draugr Lord, Aesliip. And that's a fact."
"The third sign is 'The Tide of Woe,'" Tharsten continued, ticking a third finger.
Skadi's breath hitched. She heard that phrase before. Just the other night in the Raven Rock tavern, she was sharing a pint with two hunters who just returned from the northeastern shores of the island in search of tusked bristlebacks. They swore on the Nine they witnessed a whole slew of hoarkers bloodied and bashing themselves against the jagged rocks along the shoreline. One traveler speculated some unknown divine entity was driving them to their deaths. Their bodies stained the tide red with their blood, dubbing the horrific scene the "Tide of Woe."
Skadi believed the hunters. No one could conjure up a story like that complete with haunting details and descriptions.
"The hoarkers," Skadi breathed.
"Aye, not you too," Tharsten complained, slapping his forehead with his hand. "It's amazing what people believe in this area, you know? People will say anything for attention. Anyways, the fourth sign of the prophecy is the rise of a red Secunda - the Bloodmoon."
Skadi was picking at her boots feeling uneasy. It's just my nerves, she thought. I'm stuck up here, and my mind is playing tricks. Her mind couldn't get past the story about the hoarkers. So much blood and so much death. The hunters were scared to death when they disclosed what happened. What if the prophecy was true?
"It's just a story, Skadi," assured Tharsten again. "A story told to children by the crazy kook residents of this bloody island. I've heard it hundreds times from my village elders. Each and every one of them - crazy."
"Not story," said Karstaad. "Story true. Prophecy comes. He comes."
"It's not true," shouted Tharsten angrily. Skadi immediately picked up the anxiety strained in his voice. This Son of Skyrim, this barbarian and warrior to the core was frightened.
Realization slammed into Skadi like a ton of iron ore.
"Hircine," she whispered.
Hircine. The Deadric Price of the Hunt. She knew of the Lord of the Manbeasts. The Dunmer attributed their hunting success to the Daedra. She knew the stories about the Prince, about his hunts, about the coming of the Bloodmoon and the fear it brought onto the Solstheim, Morrowind and the regions who knew not to trifle with the Deadra.
Give thanks to the Hunstman or he will send his werebeats after you, the Dark Elves warned. Skadi always brushed the threats off, preferring to pay her hunting success to her goddess Kynareth. Should have known better, she thought bitterly, as she picked up a pebble near her leather and hide boot and flicked it into the darkness outside of the firelight.
She knew her sins would catch up to her eventually. She knew her luck would run out.
"I found a massive cavern," shouted Falx, emerging from the darkness of the cave channel. Sweat beaded on his hairline and his cheeks were flushed. "It's warm down in the tunnels. We won't worry about freezing to death."
Skadi and Tharsten scrambled to their feet.
"There's fresh supplies and everything in there," he continued as he pulled out piece of smoked salmon wrapped in a cloth and a couple of apples from his satchel. "I suggest we grab what we can and continue on through the tunnel. It looks like this cave was used for mining, which means there should be another entrance at the base of the mountain."
Skadi's heart rate quickened in excitement. The map was right. This cave would reach the southern base of the glacial mountain. After a day or two of traveling, she would be off the damn mountain and on a ship sailing home to Skyrim.
"Perfect!" exclaimed Tharsten. "Let's grab our gear and jump into the dark cave that might possibly lead us to our deaths."
The four packed up their weapons and readied themselves to venture into the unknown. Skadi extinguished her magical fire and stuffed the unburned tunic back into her sack.
Falx and she each ignited a candlelight to illuminate up their path. Together, the group of four descended down into the depths of Mortrag Glacier.
Secunda began to rise over the horizon with Masser, its massive lunar relative, looming behind the small celestial body. Rather than its usual pearly white shade, Secunda was stained deep red as if it were painted with fresh blood.
The final sign of the Bloodmoon Prophecy was complete, setting the Hunter's Game into motion.
The Hunter was coming.
-STH-