The sea boils
It didn't usually take a week for a boat from Vvardenfell to get to Solstheim. But then again, a boat isn't usually being sailed by a helmsman convinced of voices in his head that carried with them the fears of a little girl and the waters usually didn't periodical smash into the boat and cover the passengers in acrid salt water. The boat held about thirty of the refugees, crammed together and holding onto anything they could: ropes, heavy barrels and even each crossing itself was surely a curse sent from the very core of Oblivion, many of the refugees were thrown from the small boat and into the rolling currents of the sea whenever a large wave struck the boat, their friends and other members of their families screaming into the roaring sea to return their loved ones, all to no avail. Kari watched them all fall in from the safety of her mother's arms. Though she didn't care for those that fell, it did scare her that death was only a stumble off the side away.
As she hugged into her mother's cloak, desperate to hear that soothing heart beat once again, Kari let her spell go on the Nord helmsman, letting the man have some peace. The heartbeat was not hard to find and there it was, close to her bosom. Dumdum. Dumdum. Dumdum. It was relatively slow when compared to the past few days when it was beating like a dull butcher's cleaver on a tough piece of gristle. The little girl took in a deep breath, smelling her mother cloak, the smell of the Ashlands was soaked heavily on the fabric, helping to soothe Kari's nerves.
A particularly strong gust of wind blew over the ship, lacerating the faces of many with bits of ash, sea water and sheer force. It carried with it the smells of salt and sulphur and though not uncommon smells on the island of Vvardenfell, these smells were amplified by a faint aroma of burning flesh and blood. The Dark Elf child whimpered and hugged her mother tighter, who responded by putting her arms around the child and trying to hum her a familiar tune.
Somewhere else in the sphere's of existence, around a table forged of the souls of mortal champions, sat sixteen of the omniverse's most powerful beings. At least, that's what they told the mortals anyway. On the table was a detailed map of the realm called 'Nirn', completely detailed, right down to the little people scurrying around like ants in the forests and cities. Many of the beings just sat and watched, their attention not residing in their physical forms and busy ruling their own realms. Only four were truly there and the large, four armed one was busy shouting at the others. Dagon, Azura, Sheogorgath and one other who was half-watching were all arguing about who was responsible for this.
Oddly enough, the prince of Destruction won that argument and took the souls killed as payment despite his recent actions in the mortal plane.
But the fourth was watching the destruction with one eye and the small boat crossing the ocean go the mortal island of 'Solstheim' with the other. She reached out with one of her eight arms and drew a rune in the air over the boat. It shimmered for a while before fading away. A few of the stationary forms seated around the table raised an eyebrow to this, but most were only responding to the one who noticed.
Only the prince of Madness noticed. And all he exclaimed about it was that the rune looked like a frost atronach's right testicle. In that it didn't exist in other realms. It's best not thought on too much.
Kari glanced into the air and thought she saw a black cloud appear that looked remarkably like a spindley arm before disappearing above their boat. Soon after, the water around the little vessel began to calm from the raging maelstrom into choppy waters, infinitely better to what it was before. A few of the passengers exclaimed prayers to gods many thought had forsaken them, but many others just used the calm as an excuse to sleep while they could. The helmsman let out a shout, his voice resounding easily over the weakened storm.
"Land ahoy!".