Thank you for the favorites and the follows, they mean a lot to me. I'll be continuing this, as the Dawnguard storyline...well, it didn't end the way I wanted it to. Please, read and review.
"Gah...had I known that the weather would truly be so horrible...I might have in Morrowind...or gone to Black Marsh instead," Malsasa said, pulling his armor closer to himself, the padding on the inside providing little to no warmth. He would have to purchase some winter-treated armor in the next town he went to. Unfortunately, Ivarstead was...somewhat lacking in that regard, which was strange considering the residents made their home at the base of the largest mountain in Skyrim. No matter.
"How much higher must I climb? I know it is called the Seven Thousand Steps for a reason, but it feels as if I-" Malsasa said, before something caught his attention in the blizzard he found himself walking through. Something moving.
"Show yourself!" Malsasa called to whatever awaited him, drawing his blade and holding his shield up before him. Out from the white curtain of snow walked a hulking creature, covered in coarse white hair. It had long arms, and its hands were tipped with three talons. The beast growled, saliva dripping from yellowed fangs, and its three eyes gleamed menacingly. At once, Malsasa could identify the creature.
"A Frost Troll, eh? If I still had the power of my Voice, I would burn you with the breath of a dragon, beast! Still, I suppose you will have to make due with the cold steel of my blade!" the Khajiit said, and the creature charged, roaring as it used all its limbs to run. Malsasa braced himself as the beast lifted its arms and brought them down on his shield, barely withstanding the blow. He responded with his own strike, piercing through the trolls fur and slicing through the things flesh, blood splling onto the snow and melting through the white powder, making slightly steaming puddles. The beast roared in outrage and struck again, this time knocking the shield to Malsasa's side before kicking him in the chest, knocking him back into a snow drift.
"Wretched thing," Malsasa, lifting himself as quickly possible and returning to his defensive stance, green eye glowing with ethereal light. What he had said before was true: if he hadn't been cursed, he would still have his full knowledge of Shouts. As it was now, he could barely recall a single syllable of the dragon's speech. As the troll approached, Malsasa tensed, preparing to spring to the right or left. It seemed that Sai, the God of Luck, was smiling on him now, as the troll lifted both arms to smash down on him – a relatively slow and easily evadable attack. Just before the troll swung its arms down in a crushing blow, Malsasa jumped to the side, rolling around behind the creature. Before it could react, the Khajiit hacked at his foe, blade cutting satisfyingly deep into the monsters back, his blade turning crimson with the blood. As the beast turned, enraged, Malsasa took a risk, jabbing at the things eyes with a horizontal slash. His blade made contact, its eyes injured and its sight hindered by the blood.
"Time to finish this," Malsasa said sheathing his blade as he stepped back, noting that his enemy was wandering dangerously close to the cliff side. Bracing his shoulder, Malsasa took a few quick breaths and charged, ramming the beast and giving it that final push off the ledge. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to enjoy his victory, as the Khajiit made a small slip and began to fall himself.
"Ugh!" he groaned, just barely catching the ledge. The fight had made his arms weak, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to climb back up. He thought of calling for help, but he knew that he wouldn't be heard, especially up here. However, it seemed that Sai still smiled on him.
"Take my hand!" called a voice, just before a gauntlet clad hand shot down to him. Malsasa took it gladly, looking up at his savior, and he was surprised to see that it was a Dunmer woman. She wore warm looking leather armor, and a tight fitting helmet to match. On her back was a black cape, and at her sides were a pair of blades. Her right eye was blood red, and her left eye was milky white with blindness. After Malsasa was lifted to safety, the Dark Elf smiled sarcastically.
"So, I take it you thought you would land on your feet?"
"Clever, but no," Malsasa answered, a smirk of his own appearing, "but where were you during the battle with the troll?"
"Maybe one hundred steps or so behind you? Count yourself lucky I saw you fall at all, Khajiit," she answered, crossing her arms.
"I suppose I owe you a debt, Dunmer. You may call me Malsasa. And you are?" Malsasa continued, and the Dunmer smiled with pride.
"Oh me, you can call me whatever you want. My name is Quaintana, but lately people have been calling me something else."
"Yes?"
"Dovahkiin."