-I cannot apologize nearly enough for the lengthy time it's been in between updates. Turns out I'd been dealing with the grind of daily life, as well as my other passion project starting to from itself from within my head. Trust me, having two great projects to devote your time to is not all it's cracked up to be. But despite that, it's not like I'd completely abandoned this story; far from it. Just writing bits and bits of it, little by little at a time. There are still plenty of ideas for it, with somewhat clear goals for how they're to be written, and even some irl inspiration to help along the way! But anyway, enjoy!-
"Come on, come on..." Illia muttered to herself. This was taking more effort and concentration than she was wanting to admit. The way she was forcing herself to be extremely patient, poised and at the ready. Her hand cocked back and charging an ice spike and prepared to let it loose.
Finally, she let fly her icy projectile, watching it shoot straight into the water with a small splash. She continued to watch intently, studying... And her eyes widened in shock and surprise when she saw a small blotch of red form from under the water. Shortly after, her ice spike resurfaced, though coated red this time and embedded in a fish, being slowly carried by the drifting current of the river.
"I... I did it!" Illia found herself exclaiming, "I actually caught a fish!" After being at this tedious exercise all morning, after all the failed attempts and scared fishes, she'd finally caught one, and would be eating this morning after all! The thought of food entering her belly again put a heavy smile on her face... until she was reminded that she had to retrieve her prize.
One foot at a time she stepped into the water, yelping at the sudden cold, and quickly splashed her way to her kill. The fish dripped with reddened water, blood, and ice as she lifted it from the river, and was thankfully quite limp. This was assuring for Illia, as she was hoping for it to be immediately dead at once. She was not looking forward to having to 'put it out of its misery', especially if doing so meant that she could eat. Having melted enough to lose its shape, the ice spike slowly slid out of the fish's carcass, splashing a little as it hit the water. What was left was a massive bloody hole left in the fish where Illia's work could be seen.
"Ugh, gross...!" Illia's face scrunched up in disgust. She quickly turned her head away from her prey. She caught a glimpse of the... the 'insides' of this thing! And she'd be eating it?! "I just hope putting you over a fire makes you more... appetizing..."
She shook her head and stepped as deftly as she could out of the water and onto land again. The lower edges of her robes were water-dipped, but her thin shoes were positively soaked!
"By the Gods... This had better better be worth it...!" she shook her feet of the water as best she could, to little avail. Her shoes were completely submerged in water, and would need to be wrung out by hand. But not here, she could best do this at her little makeshift campfire she made. Thankfully it was not that far a walk from this stream; she was lucky this stream was even so close to where she had taken refuge last night. Now here was hoping she could get this over with-
"What-?" Illia's eyes widened in shock and then horror when she reached her campfire. Or rather, the ember remains of a campfire she managed to start this morning! "Oh no, no no...!" She dashed over to the edge of the small pile of kindling she'd used, quickly dropping down to her knees. In her haste, she'd almost dropped her caught fish from her hands, yet still managed to keep a decent grip on it. She'd worked so hard to get a small fire going just a few minutes ago; how could it be dying so quickly?!
She leaned her head in close to blow upon the embers. The small glow of orange grew brighter with each breath, but no major change aside from that happened. Illia was certain this should work; she'd heard it well enough that 'blowing on embers' was supposed to keep a fire alive. Wasn't that how this works?!
"Come on... come on...!" the mage said in between breaths. Each one she exhaled made her just a little more exhausted. Finally, the embers glowed one last time after a breath before they were completely snuffed out. Illia was frozen in place, the realization of what had just happened sunk in. Her fire was gone, as were her hopes of getting this fish cooked and having her belly filled!
"Gods... blast it!" she pounded the ground in complete frustration. How could this be happening to her? She'd been so lucky to have caught the fish, and now this had to happen? She was so hard pressed at first to find some actually dry wood to use as kindling the first time. Plus using that method she'd heard of involving 'rubbing sticks' to get fire...
Some fire spells would've been so helpful right now; why did she have to be an ice mage...?
"How... how ever do the Nords DO this...?" she said to herself. She looked down at the fish carcass still in her possession, almost regretting as she did so. The piece of meat still looked no more appealing to eat, with the massive bloody hole in the center. The fish had stopped flopping around by this point, which meant that it was truly dead, "Would they even eat a fish, 'raw', like this...?"
She shook her head, quickly banishing such notions from her mind. It didn't matter if they did or they didn't, there was no way in Oblivion that she'd be doing that herself! Over a fire was how she would be taking care of this fish! But first, she'd have to start a new fire...
With a sigh, first pulled off each shoe from her feet, intent to wring out as much of water from them as possible. A small sigh of relief left her mouth as each foot was re-exposed to open air. Her small shoes thankfully were of thin material and easier to squeeze of the water, though at the same time did not allow for great protection against what she walked upon. Many times while she was on the run she had stepped upon something hard in this Skyrim ground, the unknown solid object being felt straight through to her feet. It sadly did show with the small bruises she could see on the soles of her feet; she really had to get better shoes in general...
Once her shoes were wrung out from the water, or as best as could possibly be done, she slipped them back upon her feet. She then pulled herself back up until she was standing upon them. Finding more wood for kindling she hoped would not be too hard of a search, despite how she had nearly combed her entire surrounding area of this forest for what she had found before.
"There has to be something here, there just has to be..." Illia reassured herself as she set off. As she expected, there were hardly any suitable sticks to be found laying about on the ground for her to find. Of course, the tiny little twigs that were no bigger than her fingers could no way serve her purpose she had in mind. Only those rather 'big' ones she needed; ones that she could actually rub in between her hands. But, where were such sticks...?
"Huh-? Oh, there!" Illia nearly exclaimed as she saw something. She chastised herself as a reminder to stay more silent, but her momentary joy still remained. Near one of the trees, a few turns away from where she'd walked away from her campfire, were a multitude of broken sticks. Broken off from the tree above it? Who knew, and who cared? They'd be perfect regardless!
"Yes... Maybe things are turning around for me..." she said to herself, proceeding to grab at each individual twig. They were hard and sturdy enough, with little risk of being broken even in her hands. And she was confident she could carry plenty of them underneath one arm. Maybe she should take all of these twigs with her now, in case her fired failed again, and she could have some more twigs ready to go-
Illia found her head drifting up, purely on casual instinct as she worked, and she immediately felt her blood run cold. From where she was now, the tree she was next to was closer to the opening of this forest she was within, with the more open parts of this world of Skyrim laid out clearly before her. There were no obstructions to block what could be seen before her anymore. Which meant she had a clear view of the small trail that led horizontal to where she was.
The trail itself wasn't what chilled her however; it's who was walking it. There, in the distance, walking along this path, were two women. Two very familiar women. Both were dressed in gray-colored steel-like armor, carrying weapons about them, with confident strides. There of course was a reason these two women were so familiar; Illia had seen them before.
"By- by all the Gods...!" she nearly exclaimed, yet caught herself to minimize the volume in her voice. Her pile of sticks fell to the ground, and for a moment Illia was terrified that the sound made by them was enough to draw the two's attention in her direction. She hastily repositioned herself to hide completely behind the tree she was next to. There was no way, there was just no way that this could actually be... Her heart still beating hard and fast in her chest, she slowly turned her head over her shoulder the peak around one side of the tree.
An exhale of relief escaped her lips at what she saw. The two women were still walking their way along the road, completely unaware of her presence. Perhaps that was a good thing, as she could now confirm what she had suspected upon first discovery. Those two women were the exact ones she'd encountered last night!
"That really is them, isn't it?" she spoke softly as she watched, "What were their names? 'Siffree', and... Lydia, yeah..." Her eyes narrowed in a frown as the name triggered a mental reminder. Lydia, that same one that nearly wanted to end her. Even after her 'family drama', and how she had very clearly told them that she was trying to get away from them, she still had the gall to assume that she'd-! Unbelievable, simply unbelievable. At least both of them didn't appear to be like that. That other woman, the one with that strange voice magic, she was at least a little more understanding, in comparison to her partner at least.
"Where were they going anyway?" She watched them, as they drew ever further away from her. From a quick glance at where they were bound for, they were heading towards that more 'thawed' portion of Skyrim's land, in Eastmarch, "Probably heading towards Windhelm... Good, they'd probably welcome Nords like them. A place for other close-minded Nords to congregate? Yeah..."
With a shake of her head, and knowing that she was in no further risk of being discovered, Illia pulled herself to her feet again. However in her haste to hide, she'd discovered that she had dropped her sticks yet again. She let out a silent groan as she prepared to drop back down to gather them back up again, when her gaze drifted back up yet again. What greeted her eyes was yet again something she was not expecting to see. However, this sight was not quite alarming enough to cause her to hide again.
She witnessed three figures. Three humanoid figures dressed entirely in black. The sheer black of their outfits stood out greatly against the more light-colored dirt of the ground, and the verdant green of the grass. Even the mist of this early morning, the absence of color amongst them stood out like a sore thumb. Illia's head tilted as she watched on, almost transfixed by what she saw.
The three figures walked the path, in the same direction the two women were going. It was a rather strange thing to note, or maybe it was how exactly they were moving, but she couldn't quite hear the very steps they took, even upon that loose ground they walked. It was almost as if they were... sneaking. Or at the very least did not desire to be seen. Surely the local guards of this Hold's city must have seen them? Surely they had seen the various weapons they were carrying on them as well?
Illia's eyes narrowed as her curiosity continued to grow, begging to be sated. Her bundle of twigs momentarily forgotten, she cautiously rose to her feet. She kept close watch as these three black figures 'snuck' forward along the roadway, drawing ever closer to Siffree and Lydia in the distance...
The heavy wooden doors closed tightly behind them with a deep booming sound. Siffre and Lydia then made their way out of the small entryway of the city walls, only to be greeted again by the harsh morning light shining right in their faces.
"Drgh..." Siffre silently groaned as they walked out, hands held up to shield their faces. The sounds seemed to draw the attention of the nearby guard standing just outside of the city gate, who turned in their direction. Upon catching sight, Lydia immediately frowned, having remembered their previous encounter with the guard outside of the walls. However, the guard addressed them,
"You're heading out? Stay safe when travelling these roads." Her frown faded, as the voice that could be heard from him was not the same voice they'd heard from the man last night. This clearly was a different guard; a rotation must have gone into effect. With a nod herself, Lydia and Siffre walked foward and out, the moist forest air greeting the with each breath they took.
"Hm..." Siffre could be heard while sniffing once, "I don't... the air smells different..."
"Think I smell it too," Lydia said, sniffing the air herself, "Being inside the city... there was that smell of moisture... and fish in the air, wasn't it?" Siffre nodded, "Yeah, guess being in the greater outdoors, you notice little things like that..."
"Yeah... let's get moving..." the other Nord said. With that, the two women made their way along the path. This path they walked on was a walkway of flattened rocks, which contrasted greatly with the surrounding soil. The dark brown of the soil was broken by the dark gray of the rocks, which seemed to break through the dirt at all times. Thus it was easy enough to see where they walked, and of course, where they walked towards.
Before them the path wound left and right a couple of times while also curving downward. The two women also passed by a couple of man-made structures on both sides. They were watch-towers, reach up high and above the surrounding trees. As they passed the one on their right side, a nearby guardsman took notice and politely acknowledged them.
"Hail there, travelers!" he called out, "Take care of you're headed up the main road. Looks like something's happening with Fort Greenwall soon."
"Huh...?" Siffre spoke softly. The volume she delivered her speaking voice still let it carry through the open air with few vibrations. She also slowed down a little and turned and look at him, "What's going on?"
"Fort Greenwall," the guard explained, "Old fort's creepy enough, even without those strange figures seen about it. Way I hear it, the Stormcloaks will be moving in soon, clearing out any degenerates within, and help make the roads safer to travel that way."
"Really? Ah, thank you sir, we'll keep that in mind," Lydia replied. She and her thane resumed their walk down along the road. It'd probably be best to avoid any sort of entanglements with Stormcloaks, however they may be. Their fight wasn't hers, no reason for that to change.
All around them they noticed the trees started to become a little more frequent the further 'down' they walked. They all still held warm-colored leaves upon their branches; a reminder of how they still were very much in the Hold of the Rift. Eventually their walk took them to a small break in the path. This same break also was shown with the stone path they had been walking on completely ending, and becoming two separate pathways that branched off in two different directions.
"Hm? Well, now what...?" Siffre asked. Lydia herself looked around. She quickly noticed a sign with words scratched upon two indicated directions. One pointed to their left, while the other pointed towards they themselves.
"'Riften', and... 'Shor's Stone', this one says..." she read, "Another city, or a settlement?" This wasn't some place that she was familiar with, and Siffre returning her question with a shrug of her own told her as much with what she knew as well, "Here, let's look at the map here..." With that she pulled forth the map again, unfolding it and holding it up before herself and Siffre.
"Oh, look here," Siffre pointed out. Her finger indicated to a small point on the map, directly beneath Shor's Stone marker and the massive body of water above Riften, "Is this the fort...? The one he just now mentioned?"
"I believe it is... yes, Fort Greenwall," Lydia confirmed after looking closer, "It looks like it's positioned in between Shor's Stone and this... 'Lake Honrich' here... And here! This is probably where the road splits, like right here...!" She pointed a finger to the fork in the road that lay before her and Siffre.
"So then... it looks like the fort is on this side..." Siffre said, looking closer at the map, then back up at the world, "That means... we should go this way," she pointed a finger to the right-most path. Lydia looked up and out at this path before them. It was a beaten path with grass having worn away from a narrow strip, stretching out before them. As it went on, Lydia also noted that the lining of mountains stretched high and wide along the right side as well. Having no knowledge of this mountain range before, she looked down at the map again. Looks like they were called the 'Velothi Mountains'... Definitely not a name a Nord would come up with.
"Right, let's get going then," she said. The two proceeded to walk along the right path. They both glanced off to the side of the left path, and could in fact see a large, stone structure in the distance. No doubt that was the fort the guard had mentioned, but where were those 'degenerates' he'd said were there? Lydia shook her head; perhaps it was best not to find out.
The path they walked was another winding road, very gradually dipping downward. As they walked forward, another large landmass could be seen on their left side this time. This one paled in comparison to those 'Velothi mountains' on their right side of course, both in number and in sheer size. A gentle breeze could be felt, not quite a crisp chill that she'd feel some days in Whiterun, but rather a little warmer. The wind also carried a faint sound with it as well, and for a moment Lydia was almost certain it was actually the sound of something, or someone, from some distance.
In the midst of mishearing things on the wind, Lydia looked over at Siffre again. The other Nord was still walking at a leisurely pace along the path. Only one half of her face could be seen, but she seemed to be calmer; more content even, since this morning. This visage had Lydia smiling a little as well, seeing her thane was in good spirits.
"You know, Siffre?" she suddenly spoke up as they walked, "I've been thinking about something."
"What is it?"
"Your Voice," Lydia said, "This 'all-powerful' Voice that you've got? Maybe you should practice with it more."
"Practice...?" Siffre said, "Well... isn't that what... where we're off to now? To learn the new Word of Power?"
"No, that's not what I mean," the housecarl said, "I mean with what you have now. Surely you've noticed that every time you 'do' speak, the very air before you seems to... quake?" Siffre's mouth closed, almost instinctively, in response. Her eyes and gaze shifted to the side before her, even as they walked.
"Yes..." she finally said. Despite her soft volume, the vibrations could still be felt in the air in front of her, almost directly proving Lydia's point.
"Well... I have a... a possible theory about it," Lydia explained, "I'm willing to bet that if you used your Voice more and more frequently, you and your body would become even more used to it and its effects! Like how a warrior becomes stronger with the weapon she wields!"
"A warrior... and weapon...?" Siffre tilted her head. She had to admit, that was an interesting metaphor, "You... might be right! I need to get better with... using this Voice! As well getting used to... talking... So... how should I do that?"
"Well," Lydia put a hand to her chin, "Obviously it can't be done in cities or towns; might cause too much disturbance... So, we should find some place very remote, without people around, so you can really... well, 'shout'!"
"Remote...?" Siffre said, "Maybe... maybe where this Word of Power is?"
"Possibly, it may also depend on what sort of area this is..." Lydia pulled her map out again and looked towards the spot that Arngeir had indicated to, "This place that the Greybeards pointed us to... It's south of Windhelm, in a place that has steam geysers. Doesn't sound like anyone would be around. Only other place that could be closer to it is this here- 'Kynesgrove', but not by much-"
"Lydia MOVE!" Very suddenly, Siffre's voice practically erupted from her mouth in alarm. Lydia was completely caught off guard by that most of all, even more so than her thane pushing her away. She stumbled backward, almost losing her footing as well as nearly losing her map in the process, while Siffre was just regaining her own footing herself. The housecarl's eyes met Siffre's, alarmed meeting alarmed. It was then that the dragonborn indicated down, to right between them, and where they had just stood a moment ago.
There, stuck in the ground at an angle, was an arrow.
The two women quickly shot each other looks, and wasted little time. Lydia drew forth her sword from her sheath on her waist, while Siffre pulled forth her great-sword off of the sheath from her back with both hands. Lydia's eyes darted all around at their surroundings, her mind instantly running with potential threats that could be befalling them at this moment.
'Bandits? Thieves? Even Stormcloaks or Imperials?' she thought, 'What could that have been...?'
"Impressive."
The simple word was spoken, but with the heightened state of alert the two women were in, it might has well have echoed across throughout the land itself. The both looked back, in the path's direction they had walked from. And it was there that they did see someone.
Two figures, completely clad in black. Actually, it was almost... unnerving the sheer black of these outfits the two figures were wearing. As it pure night itself, in humanoid form, had stepped out into the day before them. They were even hooded as well, with overlaying shadows that concealed the top halves of their heads. They wore pitch black half cowls that covered their entire lower halves of their faces. If Lydia didn't know better, she'd swear they were in the presence of some kind of... of ghosts! Specters even! She found herself tensing even harder than before; whatever wore outfits like those could only be dangerous!
"Though admittedly, that was really just to get your attention," one of the figures spoke, the tone on its voice suggesting female. Lydia's eyebrow twitched as she quickly realized this. She looked closer, and further realized that one of the figures was a larger male, and the other was a bit of a smaller female.
"Who... are you? What do you want?" Siffre spoke. Her vocal tone was low, but her infliction was forceful, allowing for a small bit of vibrations to be felt.
"The 'who' doesn't matter," a male voice was heard this time, "The 'what' does."
'No way...!' Lydia suddenly gritted her teeth as she glanced to the side at Siffre, 'Could they... could they be interested in 'her'? Because of who she is?!'
"I warn you, as her housecarl, I will defend her to my dying breath-!"
"We want your sword... 'housecarl'," the female cut in, while pointing a single finger in her very direction. There was a strange edge to her voice as she spoke.
Lydia's further words died in her throat, and her resolve faltered for but a brief moment. Did she hear correctly? They weren't interested in the Dragonborn? Instead, they wanted... her sword?
Her fist clenched the hilt of said weapon a little tighter, reminding her of where it was. Why would they want 'her' sword, of all things? The only thing special about it was that it had been wielded by Jarl Balgruuf, during the Great War. And even then, it was little more than ordinarily-forged; not even from the Companions' Skyforge! Aside from the Whiterun insignia to separate it, there was little difference between it and any other sword in Skyrim.
It was also something Lydia would not be parting with, ever.
"You're... joking, right?" Lydia spoke, almost in a challenging tone, "You can't have it!"
"Why do you want... her sword?" Siffre said. Her own two hands gripped the handle of her great-sword in front of her, holding it poised to strike.
"Again, something like 'why' doesn't matter either, lass," the male responded, "You do get a choice in the 'how' actually..." He paused a moment in speaking as he began to move. Deliberately, he raised his own arm behind his back to reach for something. Siffre and Lydia both tensed as they watched him move. With a sound of metal scraping on leather, the night-cloaked man drew forth a long, equally blackened great-sword from his back. He held the sword with both hands in a pose that nearly mirrored Siffre's own pose, "Would you prefer to be alive when we take that sword, or dead?"
"You dare? You dare to threaten us? Threaten her?!" Lydia called out, "Do you even realize who you're addressing?! The Dr-" Lydia caught herself at the last minute. A quickly glance back at Siffre brought a reminder back to her head. She did mention before that notion of not letting people know who or what she was at the moment. Still, these here were definitely thieves, murderers even! Surely it wouldn't matter in this case? "The Thane of Whiterun, and her housecarl!"
"I don't- We couldn't care who you are...!" the female voice openly challenged. She in turn was moving her own arms as well. Each hand moved directly behind her back, to where two handles could be seen. Just as deliberately as her partner, she drew forth two blades from horizonal sheathes that rested on her back behind her. The blades she gripped were just as black as her partner's own great-sword. She gave a flourishing twirl of the blades before leveling them threateningly at the two Nords, "We're taking that sword of yours!"
Siffre then made a motion herself; she appeared to relax her stance. She stood straight up, with her great-sword held in one hand, while staring back at the two black-garbed figures. Lydia's heart nearly dropped for a moment, in fear of what her thane was actually doing. That is, until she began to speak; forcefully, yet concisely,
"I warn you two as well... walk away, and leave us alone, or else..."
"Hmph, it seems we have our answer," the man spoke, tilting his head as if to show he glanced to his partner, "Let's begin."
"Gladly." The two night-garbed figures took a single step towards the two women. In that moment, Siffre's head bowed just a little, and she spoke much softer than before.
"I warned you..." Her head snapped back up, eyes fierce with determination and anger, and mouth stretching open wider,
"Fus, Ro-DAH!"
The unbridled Voice burst from her mouth, with Siffre herself remaining planted in place. The wave of energy traveled through the air at insane speed, bearing straight for the black figures. For a moment, it almost appeared that they would be impacted by it, blown away completely. However, almost at the last moment, both of them nimbly jumped to the sides, separated from each other.
Lydia's eyes widened at what she'd just seen. It wasn't possible! The Shout Siffre had shouted at these two moved so fast, and they were able to jump out of the way to avoid it?! Who were these people?!
Her thoughts were cut short as she saw the black figures already were moving. As both of them were apart from each other, they were now running forward with their targets having been selected. The male figure charged forward and locked his great-sword with Siffre's, while the dual-bladed female was moving on her. Her right foot held planted back behind her as her left arm held up her shield to block the two swords swung at her from the same direction. Two simultaneous clangs of metal rang through her ears, along with two forceful vibrations felt up along her arm. The assailant was quick in her movements by attempting to slash at her from the opposite end this time. A quick twist of her shield protected her from those attacks as well.
In between the ferocity of these strikes leveled at her, Lydia noticed how the figure was much closer before her this time. As such, she was able to see the front of her head in clearer detail. Or actually, there was still nothing to see. Her narrowed eyes could only see a night-colored cowl covering the majority of the face, with a night-colored hood drawn down to conceal the top of the head. Her swift movements she made didn't even seem to shift the hood its position at all. It was just... uncanny, how everything about this attire seemed to belong to night itself! There weren't even any eye-holes that Lydia could see from under the hood! Just pitch-black!
'Who... or maybe, just 'what' are these things?!' Lydia thought, 'What plane of Oblivion could these people have come from?!' A quick glance to the side showed her that Siffre herself was still locked in combat with the other black figure; both swinging their great-swords at each other, 'Whatever these people are, they won't take my sword! I'll rip those damned masks off their faces if I have to!'
The black-garbed assailant then suddenly crossed her arms and blades over each other, attempting to slice at Lydia in a scissoring motion. The Nord quickly saw her chance; she thrust her arm out to bash her shield against the blades. Her maneuver paid off, as it seemed her opponent was not expecting this sudden interruption of her own attack. A small grunt could be heard from her as she ended up stumbling backwards a couple of steps.
But Lydia would give her no time to recover; the time was now to go on the offensive herself. This person seemed to move fast, too fast, which could suggest that garb she was wearing wouldn't be that sturdy. Lydia raised her sword arm back and swung it forward to strike at her-
The sound of something whooshing in through the air, a clinking sound, and a sudden jerk of resistance in her sword arm. For a moment, Lydia's mind blanked as she nearly couldn't process what had just happened. Something had hit the tip of her sword just now, but what?
Then she saw it: a single arrow, twirling through the air as it fell to the ground. Lydia's eyes slowly widened in surprise. They were not alone!
"Siffre! There's an archer out there too!" Lydia called out. The Dragonborn's head jerked to the side, looking at her in surprise. She was forced however to look back at her opponent, who had resumed attacks of his own upon her.
The same could be said for Lydia herself as well; her own opponent had regained her footing and was attacking her in full again. Blades crossed again upon Lydia's shield as the latter was forced to block strikes yet again. In the back of Lydia's mind however, a strange possibility presented itself; something almost too unbelievable to be true. That arrow had been shot out by someone to hit the tip of her sword, right as she was about to bring it down to attack! At the same time, it had also served as a decent delay on her own part so that the female attacker here could recover herself! There was not a single person she could imagine that could possibly have 'that' level of accuracy! Plus if whoever that archer is was allied with these black warriors, and had possessed 'this' level of coordination with each other... then this fight just became a whole lot more dangerous...!
"Like knowing that will help you..." the female attacker taunted. Her right arm swung her right sword wide towards Lydia's form. The Nord raised her shield arm to deflect it, but it was only after she had done that she had realized her mistake: her opposite side was completely unguarded thanks to the position of her shield! The black figure seemed to know this as well, as she quickly thrust the tip of her other sword towards her unguarded mid-section. Lydia was able to angle her body just in time to avoid a fatal stab, but the edge of the blade still managed to graze the open section of her armor enough to draw a little blood. The sting was instantly recognizable, and Lydia hissed in pain a little as it shot up from the initial point and radiated all throughout her torso. Such a careless mistake, to have left her body unguarded like that!
Lydia gritted her teeth with renewed anger. She swung her own sword arm at her opponent this time. The black-garbed woman was just so nimble and light on her feet, parrying most of her strikes. Every time Lydia created a possible opening, she was that much quicker to close it up! She was just too fast; curse those two blades of hers!
"You still have a chance, you know," the woman spoke in between her strikes, "Give up that sword, and we'll let you go." Lydia positively growled in anger as she swung her sword to parry one of the woman's own blades away from striking her.
"I'll not give in to the demands of a coward like you!" she exclaimed. She tried to thrust her shield outward to bash her again. The woman must have learned from before as this time she was successful in jumping back to put a little space in between the two of them.
In the span of a few moments, Lydia caught sight of Siffre herself was also still locked in combat with the other black-garbed male of the two. Despite wielding such a large great-sword as well, he seemed to be moving it just as quickly to keep her thane on the defensive. This was insanity! How were both her and her thane being so hard pressed by these... these... nobodies?! These night-garbed cowards that don't even bother to show their faces as they attack them out in the open?! There was also that mystery archer somewhere out there that Lydia still couldn't see; probably hiding somewhere in the tree-line-
Her brief train of thought abruptly halted as her opponent had jumped back forward to slash at her again. Each clang she felt against her shield sent vibrations up along her arm, giving it a faint numbing feeling. Her shield would definitely hold, but this needed to seriously turn around, and fast!
A sudden cry filled the air. For a split second, Lydia had thought it had come from Siffre, which caused her blood to freeze a little. Her head snapped over to her, only to see that she was perfectly fine. There was some distance between her and her own foe. To her surprise, the two black-clothed assailants had ceased their combat and had their heads fixed on a certain direction. For another split second, Lydia considered taking advantage of their momentary distraction and running them through, if not for 'what' exactly everyone was staring at.
Out towards the tree-line, a third black figure had suddenly burst forward and was running away. This one was dressed identically to these two black-garbed cohorts here, with an equally black bow in her left hand. She was too far away to get an exact fix on, but from the sound of the cry that had been heard, it was likely that it was another female as well. She was currently running, but not in their direction and towards them. What was she running 'from' then?
Her question was immediately answered a light blue figure had practically torn its way through the tree-line and out into the open. It could vaguely be even considered humanoid, what with its massive hulking frame. From where it could be seen, it appeared to be a normal person's height, if a tad shorter than Lydia herself. Its appendages went only as far as being arms with no hands nor fingers, legs that were little more than stumps to support it, and a complete lack of a face, or even a head for that matter. But there was one very striking characteristic about this strange creature.
It was made entirely of ice.
Lydia stared in bewilderment at the literal walking ice creature. A thin veil of mist could be seen around the creature as it walked. Its faceless 'head' faced the black-clothed woman it was chasing, who had stopped after she had put enough distance between the two of them. As it continued to walk towards her, she had nocked another arrow in her bow, drawn back, and let it fly at it. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the arrow clinked harmlessly off of the sheer solid ice, with the creature itself hardly giving any sort of notice. In fact, it actually thrust one of its crudely-shaped bludgeoning arms forward in response.
The woman was able to jump back in time to avoid a massive piece of ice impacting her. Immediately following that moment, she shot a look towards where Lydia, Siffre, and the black warriors stood.
"Abort!" she cried out suddenly, with a completely different voice to those of her comrades. She waited for no further input from them as she sprinted away, towards the tree-line that was back in the direction of Riften itself.
"No! What is she-" the black-garbed female began to protest. To her side, the male had deflected a strike from Siffre that the latter had tried to get in. In that moment, instead of pressing forward with a counterattack, he instead chose to put greater distance between him and the two women, pushing himself back further in the direction of the third black character.
"G! We have to go!" he called out to her. The other woman, 'G', also spun around to deflect another strike that Lydia tried to get in on her. She too spun away to put distance between herself and Lydia, though only half compared to her partner. She snapped her head back and forth between Lydia and him.
"No! We're not done yet!"
"Yes, we are! We must fall back!" the man urged. The woman looked back again at Lydia. The Nord woman herself met her gaze with a challenging one of her own. For the first time today, a smirk of satisfaction graced her lips; perhaps luck was starting to turn around for her and Siffre after all! She banged her sword hilt on the face of her shield twice, openly daring 'G' to fight her again.
"Not so tough now, are you?!" Lydia challenged, "Not when your 'help' is stripped away! Come on, fight me for real this time!"
"Next time... This is not over; next time..." G practically snarled in response. Her blades twirled in a circular motion in her hands once, then were sheathed back into their horizontal placements on her back. She then spun around to run towards her male partner, that black cape of hers blowing against the wind behind her.
"No! Not next time-!" Siffre suddenly declared,
"Fus, Ro-DAH!"
The Thu'um burst forward yet again to strike at the black-garbed warriors again. For a moment, it almost appeared that it would strike true this time, given how much closer they were. Unfortunately, just like before, the two had jumped clear and out of the direct range of the Voice, relying on splitting away from each other for their benefit. Lydia's eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth; it happened again! Siffre had missed them when Shouting directly at them! She was faintly aware of the sound of low growling coming from her thane as well.
As for the two black-garbed assailants, once they had cleared distance between themselves and the two Nord women, they vanished. Lydia blinked, she shook her head, her haze of fighting spirit momentarily broken in light of what she just saw. There was a thought that she might have been seeing things, but there were few other ways to describe it: these two had simply 'disappeared'! They were standing directly out in the open upon the beaten road, and then their very images seemed to fade completely into the land itself! No signs of them could be seen anywhere!
"No... no no!" Lydia growled in frustration as she looked all around, widened eyes scanning everywhere, "Where? Where did they go?!" Beside her, Siffre could be heard letting out an equally loud groan of frustration, which was only amplified even more by the accompanying vibrations.
"They're gone..." she said with a more even tone, "They really just... vanished." Her one hand gripping her great-sword slumped and let the tip drop to the ground, her other hand rubbing a spot on her neck, "Oblivion take them..."
"But, they can't be gone!" Lydia said, "They started this fight, and now they simply run away? Who were they, really- who were they underneath those black masks?!"
"Lydia, I don't know," Siffre said, looking at her as she moved back to grip her blade with both hands, "But they're gone now...It's over. But now, what was it that scared them...?" The two looked back up to the opposing tree-line, where the ice golem could still be seen. They both tensed their muscles a little, the sight of this creature facelessly staring them down sending metaphorical chills down their spines, despite the great distance between them. Whatever this thing was, if it set so much as one step-
The creature took a single step forward, and promptly fell to pieces.
The ice chunks of the creature completely broke apart, each one separating into smaller pieces of ice. Lydia and Siffre's determined faces just as quickly switched from hardy and determined to wide-eyed and even confused. This same creature that had inadvertently chased off those black humanoids had fallen apart so easily. All the two women were left to stare at now was what lay behind this ice creature.
That being the figure of a woman. A very familiar woman to them, with black robes, hands coated with ice magic, and a very nervous expression upon her hooded face.
"Alright... we're clear..." Brynjolf panted. He and his two female partners had finally gotten clear enough away. Things had not gone exactly to plan this time. As a simple hold-up job that required the use of the Nightingale Trinity, this really should've been an easy, if impromptu job for the three of them. Granted things were going well, but then suddenly that Frost Atronach that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and attacked Karliah. Had luck shifted out of their favor again...?
"What just happened? Why did we leave?" Galadriel exclaimed, "We nearly had them, nearly had that sword, and then we just let them go?!"
"Lass, calm down," Brynjolf tried to cut in by putting a hand on the Bosmer's shoulder, "What happened was no one's fault, none of ours; we did everything right."
"Travelers with strange magic, atronachs appearing out of nowhere," Karliah mused, "So many factors we couldn't have accounted for..."
"But if we did everything right, then how could we let this happen?!" Galadriel exclaimed again, "We should've stayed! We should've adapted! Just... something!"
"Galadriel!" Brynjolf's hand squeezed the woman's shoulder harder in between his attempts to get his word in. This definitely caused the Wood Elf to halt her tirade; usually Brynjolf almost never referred to her by her first name with that tone of voice. Those times were reserved for only when he was being deadly serious. She looked upon the hooded and cowl-covered face of her male partner. His eyes could not be seen directly, and yet familiarity painted a picture of what lay beneath, even as he spoke softly, yet forcefully, "You need to calm down. Do you understand me?" To his credit, the woman did give a heavy sigh.
"You're really alright with what just happened, Bryn...?" she asked, to which Brynjolf frowned.
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous," he chastised her, "Like I said, we did everything we were supposed to. And there will always be other opportunities for this, so don't let this one setback get you down... got it?" After a moment of staring at each others' cloaked faces, Galadriel removed Brynjolf's hand from her shoulder, but not at all harshly.
"Maybe... you're right... Yeah, yeah I just need to calm down... Thanks Brynjolf," she said to him, then turned to Karliah, "And thank you too, Karliah. You know, for helping out with this?" The Dunmer underneath her own Nightingale armor nodded to her.
"You're a Nightingale, and my friend. Of course I'd help you however I could." she said, before placing a hand on her hip and tilting her head slightly, "And you should listen to Brynjolf; one single failure does not define you at all." Galadriel nodded in response to the other woman's words. She always seemed to know what to say, as well as just how to say it to her. Luck was definitely with her to have known these two people standing with her.
"Right then, let's get back to the hideout and get some rest," Brynjolf said.
"Our horses are stashed this way; let's go," Karliah said, leading the way. The Nightingale Trinity swiftly began to make their way towards the location Karliah had indicated to. Before they departed entirely from view, Galadriel cast one last look behind her, towards where those two Nords were. Her eyes narrowed, but this time, it was determination that gripped her being, not frustration. That woman, that housecarl... she better hope that sword stays attached to her person at all times... for her sake...
-As it goes, do all the standard read and review stuff if it suits you, and I'll hopefully try and be back real soon!-
