The sound of is own vomiting was the first thing Siddit heard upon waking.
The acrid, gritty taste of saltwater quickly followed, and then the blinding glare of the sun above hit him as he cracked open his bloodshot eyes. Another surge of saltwater had him retching again, sending the contents of his stomach back into the sea from whence it came. His eyes forced shut, all he could tell was that he was half submerged, his prone body laid upon some sand, just his head and a shoulder breaching the water's surface. A small wave passed over him, forcing more of the seawater he just emitted back into his mouth. He spat it out and crawled desperately to shore, still retching as he went, gasping what salty air he could. The crawl was laborious, his body beaten and sore. He breathed between the vomit and the cresting waves that sent him under, moving inch by inch at an agonizingly slow pace. He strove without thought, his every movement pushed by base instinct to survive and nothing else.
Finally, he had pulled himself mostly from the water, and the Nord collapsed onto the shore, breathing hard, spitting out salt and sand and stomach juices as the tide lapped at his feet. Catching his breath, he fought to remember what all had happened. He had always thought the stories of amnesiac sailors to be cliché, but, upon recalling what little he could of the torrential storm that tore the ship he sailed upon to pieces and smashed him into all manner of timbers, stones, and bodies, he found it relatable. He could recall having sailed from Solitude on an East Empire Company galleon, one of many sailors expected to help ferry some important cargo out of Skyrim into relatively safer holding in Sentinel now that war in Skyrim had began to turn against the empire and dragons had took to the skies. It was to be an easy, albeit boring job, but Siddit had known the sea to be anything but easy. A freak storm had blown in seemingly from nowhere, and they were caught off guard. Past that, all he could remember was screams, pain and a whirl of rain and furious waves. It was nothing less than a miracle that he survived. He sighed, thanking the divines that he could still draw breath, no matter how much it pained him to do so.
With a grunt, he put his hands out beside him and pushed off of the wet sand, forcing himself onto his knees, straining to make out anything in the dazzling sunlight. He was at a dark, sandy shore, the sea to his back. Before him was a large marsh, grasses and cattails taller than him blocking out any greater view. Above them he could make out towering mountains to the left of the shore and the very top of a forest of pines a good distance to the right, with another range of mountains beyond them. He looked over his shoulder, spotting a mess of shattered masts, prows, and open hulls, all of varying ages and makes. From there, he could make out what remained of the familiar mermaid figurehead from his vessel.
He turned and sat facing the wreckage, the realization of what had occurred starting to set in. There were no other bodies to be seen, no fellow survivors. He alone had made it out of that terrible storm it seemed, and it began to dawn upon that it was perhaps not as lucky as he might've thought. Even where he sat by the sea, he could hear strange cacophonous calls coming from the wilderness behind him that he had never heard before, some far off in the distance and others distressingly close. He had seen some strange creatures from all across Tamriel, but there was something different in what he heard there, something strange and primal, something he was sure he was never meant to hear. As these thoughts rattled around his head, a flash of something caught his eye behind an aged, weathered stern stuck upon the rocks to the right of his view. He strained to look as a grey-blue head poked out of the water and swam to his left, behind the wreckage and much further out at sea. As it moved in and out of view, the head raised further and further from the water. Siddit rose to his feet shakily as the thing's long and thick neck came further into view, its head soon over ten feet from the water. Though the beast was far out at sea, he chose not to wait and see it finish rising from the waves. His stomach dropped to his feet as the monster turned its now obviously large, serpentine head to face him, seemingly noticing his standing up all the way from there. Wasting no time, he turned and darted for the reeds, slipping and scrabbling in the sand as it let out a deep, coughing call. Siddit swore as the menagerie of crazed, alien cries, songs, and shrieks erupted from the wilderness again as he ran straight into it.
Fighting against his waterlogged garments, the castaway Nord tramped and stumbled through the saltmarsh, each step sinking into the mud. Even if he slowed and watched where he planted his feet, it would be impossible for him to take a single step without dunking a boot into a near half-foot of water, muck, and unknown substances he'd rather not think about. He huffed and puffed with each plodding, squelching step, managing barely to jog. He batted aside the thick vegetation ahead of him, all of it taller than himself, blotting out all but the blue sky overhead. Even as he ran in panic, he realized there would be no way to know what was ahead of him until he was practically on top of it, but he had to run from that thing, had to get away from the sourceless terrifying noises all around him. He pushed on, heaving, the reeds slicing into his forearms as he punched through them, the mud and water filling his boots. The saltwater burned in his cuts, and the salty air burned in his lungs as he pushed to his breaking point. Just as he started to slow, unable to keep on going at a frantic pace, he could see more light filtering through the grass ahead, a sign he was almost through. With half a laugh, he plunged through only to step into the open and a deep pool of brackish water, tripping and submerging himself in it. The pool was fortunately not so deep, and he stood up to poke his head out and breathe hard, spitting out the foul water and gritting his teeth against the stinging. Looking around, he realized what a fool he was; he had only found a large pool in the marsh, that same wall of reeds all around him. He cursed as he realized he had last track of which way he had came from and had no way to know he wouldn't just return to the shore. Despairing, he waded to the edge of the pool and leaned against it, just breathing, not caring as he lay his head in divines-know-what.
Siddit lost track of time as he rested, concentrating on breathing and fighting his thirst, knowing he couldn't drink the salty water he rested in though his throat and head ached from near dehydration. At the very least, the calls had nearly all quieted, the few shrill noises now far off. All that was left was the sound of the wind rustling through the reeds. Siddit sighed, letting a little thread of relief slip through him.
The whistling breeze and shaking reeds proved almost hypnotic, practically a lullaby compared to the hellish screeching from before. His eyes closed, the exertion from before nearly wiping him out. Even with his throat parched, it felt like heaven to simply lie there with his thankfully close-cropped head in the mud. His breathing calmed as he listened to the pleasant sounds and ignored the fetid smell of the muck.
He had almost drifted into sleep when another sound reached his ear, something distinct from the sound of the wind and the foliage moving. A weird, almost mechanical noise, not unlike that of the racketing winch he once operated on the ship he sailed with, but faster. The sound grew louder, and the once soft rustling of the reeds had grown as well, the sound of snapped stalks and blades accompanying it. Siddit's eyes shot open as he realized something was moving nearby, possibly even towards him. He pulled himself from the pool as slowly as possible, holding down a grunt of pain as his sore muscles protested and his superficial cuts reopened in the brackish water. It was impossible to move without noise, but he did what he could, silently praying the creature wasn't headed his way. Not a moment later had he thought such, a loud, low chittering filled the air, and a black shape could be made out opposite of the side of the pool where he kneeled. The unknown creature became all too familiar to him, and he turned and ran blindly from what he realized was a chaurus. His recognition was rewarded as a beast burst from a patch of cattails and spit a glob of acidic venom towards him, the projectile missing him by only a few feet. He yelped as it burst and spattered onto his arm and shoulder, an immediate stinging and burning wracking the afflicted areas even though just a little had struck him. He stumbled for a moment but shot up as he heard the reeds snapping and crushing as the chaurus circled the pond. Urging his tired legs on, he raced away, using what little energy he had regained from his brief respite. He could only thank the divines that chaurus didn't swim, making sure his pursuer would have to round the pool to get at him. But he had seen how fast the chaurus were, having seen some awful things growing up near Morthal; the memories pushed him onward.
Tripping over the muck, clumps of dead shoots and roots, and his own heavy feet, he kept on, dragging himself up again and again. His breath burned in his chest, his limbs searing with pain and exertion, but the rattling, chittering noise from behind kept him from giving in. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted another pool and turned to practically dive in. Getting across was hard work, slowing him by necessity, but he hoped it might slow his pursuer. He reached the other side and yank himself up, struggling for a brief, heartstopping moment to find semisolid mud with which to actually grab and pull himself up. By the time he grabbed a handful of broken reeds and pulled himself up, the chaurus was nearly where he had dropped in. Siddit rolled away from the pool's edge, putting some extra distance between him and the skittering creature before he stood, a wise choice, he realized, as another gout of venom soared overhead. He sprung up and dashed around the remains of the acid, grimacing at the sight of the reeds corroding where the venom had landed.
Siddit's chest heaved, his body beginning to give as he slowed to a plodding pace distressingly close to the pool he just left. He knew he didn't have the energy for another trick like the one he just pulled; he barely had the energy to stay on his feet. If he had some sort of weapon, anything on hand, he could make a fight of it like any self-respecting Nord, but he had nothing to speak of, and a fist fight with chaurus was foolhardy even by Nord standards. With his last bit of energy, he pushed on, hoping against hope he'd find something to avail him.
As luck would have it, just a few paces ahead, the vegetation thinned out once more, but this time to a raised patch of earth dominated by a large, solitary tree. Siddit laughed weakly, thankful just to stand on solid earth for a moment, even if he were to be slain by some damned bug soon. He stumbled ahead, blinking up to see a massive tree that reached far upwards into the sky. Squinting, he could make out some sort of wood structure up in the limbs, like a cabin suspended in the air. Shocked at his good fortune, he frantically looked around for some way up the tree, his newfound chance of survival replacing despair with hopeful panic. The sound of scuttling grew louder as he looked, drawing curses from him as he searched the trunk of the tree for some kind of ladder, anything. Finally, he rounded to the side opposite of him and happened to spot what appeared to a lone human-sized cage all alone on the patch of dirt. Looking closer, he saw a rope and gazed up to see the pulley system that would lead it up to a platform by the treehouse. He hopped inside and grabbed onto the end of the rope hanging just within reach, realizing he would have to pull himself up. He pulled on the rope with all his strength, trying harder than he had ever done anything in all his years. The cage lifted slowly, creaking as he got it just a foot off the ground. Choking on his own breath, fighting with all he had, he lifted himself, making slow but steady work. Even after all that running and crawling through the muck, Siddit had worked the hard life of a sailor. He was a tad short for a Nord, but had always been broad-shouldered and well-muscled to make up for it, even before he began working on ships. All the years of tying knots, pulling up sails and anchors, fighting drunken sailors and more had made him fit for such a task. All things considered, he had himself halfway up the tree by the time the chaurus reached the tree—though he would've much preferred to have been at the top by then.
The chaurus made a sort of loud clacking noise, something he figured must've been an expression of anger. A blast of venomous spittle followed, shot with unnerving accuracy from such a creature. Siddit yelped as it came into contact with the bottom of the cage and rocked it, nearly causing him to release his grip on the rope. Fortunately, the bottom was solid iron, making for a heavy but durable lift. Siddit swallowed hard and pulled on, focusing on getting to the top. For all his strength and his experience, he still was exhausted, and he wasn't sure he could make it. His grip nearly failed again as another blast hit the bottom of the cage, this time the spittle sloshing around the edge to spatter his boots and pants legs. Gritting his teeth and struggling to catch his breath amidst the stinging of the venom and his worn muscles, the cage finally neared the suspended plank platform. With a last heave of effort, he pulled the cage all the way up, waiting a moment to time his jump to the platform, knowing he would have one chance. Holding his breath, Siddit kicked out from the cage, holding onto the rope as he swung out just long enough to let go and land gracelessly in a pile on the platform. He turned and watched as the cage dropped back to earth, the rope whizzing maddeningly fast as it slid through the pulley. Glancing over the edge, he could see the chaurus had moved nearer to the tree, frothing at his mandibles, preparing to fire another shot of venom at his prey. Before the creature could, the cage came whizzing down to where it stood, crushing it with a disgustingly meaty crunch that was like music to Siddit's ears. He turned onto his back and laughed to the heavens, breathing hard. His muscles burned, his throat was cracked and dry, his hands were chapped and red from the rope, his legs and arms cut and stung, but he had made it, and that was all that mattered. He closed his eyes and felt himself drift off.
By the time he awoke, the sun had moved across the sky, nearing the range of mountains to the west. Siddit groaned as he turned over and brought himself to his knees, his body stiff and spent. He lifted his head and looked around at the cabin before him.
The wood was old and worn, vines sprawled all over the shelter and the deck it rested upon, bird nests scattered all around. There was no sound or light from within, no sign of men nor mer. From a cursory glance, it seemed no one had been there for quite some time. Gritting his teeth, the Nord stood and hobbled over to the cabin's door, trying to ignore his blistered feet. The rotted wood and rusted hinge made it difficult to open, but one good shoulder forced it inwards with a crack.
The interior of the cabin was no less destitute. A layer of dust coated everything within, what little there was. A bed frame with no mattress or skins to speak of, a table broken in two, a bookcase filled with rotted tomes spilling to the floor, a small ash-filled oven, long since cold; it was a depressing sight. Siddit had hoped to find someone, anyone. Wiping a hand across his filthy scalp, he sat on the bed frame, staring at the floor. With the chaurus after him, he was desperate for help, overwhelmed with fear and panic; now that the danger had passed, all he felt was a unbearable sense of isolation greater than he had ever before. The sensation wasn't all that unfamiliar to him, having lived at sea for most of his adult life now, but even then he had his mates and usually something to drink it away. Now he was left with nothing. He held his head in his hands for a time, unthinking.
A growl from his stomach brought him out of his trance, and the burning dryness of this throat reminded him he didn't have the time or energy to waste on feeling sorry for himself. He stood and exited the cabin, making his way back to where the elevating cage had lifted him. He sighed in relief as he saw the cage's rope remained intact; he hadn't paid it any mind earlier, with more important things like the man-eating chaurus after him occupying his thoughts. Realizing the simplest way back to earth would be to climb the rope, he scanned the ground below for any threats and, seeing none, reached out for the rope, grabbed on tight, and began going down at a slow pace. Having manned a crow's nest on occasion, the height was of no real issue to him, but his aching muscles continued to protest as he went. He went as carefully as he could, worried his grip might give at any moment, the lack of food and water and energy leaving him shaking. The thought of encountering any more chaurus wasn't very assuring either, and he knew where you found one, you would find others. With that in mind, he looked out at the lands further towards the interior of the island as he climbed down. The saltmarsh stretched far into the horizon, though he could make out the end of a river that fed into said marsh just at the edge of his sight. Two small wooden watchtowers could be made out further into the marsh, but they appeared to be unoccupied, no sight of any watchmen, no smoke from a fire; He couldn't be sure, but he could feel in his gut that they were long since abandoned, much like the cabin above. Maybe it was just pessimism needling away at him, but something told Siddit that he very well may be the only man to walk these lands in a long time.
The saltmarsh was flanked by heavy forest on both sides, the same dark, tall pines he saw from the shore dominating both. At the very edge of the forest to the right of the marsh, he could make out dark shapes darting in and out of the trees and the marsh reeds. Something about the swift, jerking movements he could only barely make out sent a shiver down his spine, forcing him stop and gather his strength and reaffirm his grip before working back down the rope. He decided the forest to his left would be his next destination. There was no telling what he'd find, but, divines willing, he'd at least be free from the muck and grime and terror of the saltmarsh and would hopefully find some water. Food could come later, it was water that he desperately needed.
At last, he made it to the cage. He placed his feet atop it and awkwardly clambered down the busted frame before jumping off gracelessly. He stumbled onto his hands and his knees as he landed but put the pain out of his mind, looking back at the broken cage and the broken chaurus underneath it. He was lucky to have had enough strength to jump away from the ruptured remains of the insect, its venom bubbling caustically even hours after its violent demise. Shuddering at the sight and nearly retching from its hideous smell, Siddit got up shakily and headed to the forest, muttering a short prayer.
The way was as difficult and tiring as before, the mud and brackish water cooler now that the evening was coming. A deep fog had settled around him, blocking the view ahead alongside the overgrown reeds, sapping the warmth from his bones. It was slow going, the muck impeding every step he took, the pools of fetid water larger and more frequent than they had been. He could wade through them as he had, but the chill was starting to set in on him, leaving him chattering and hugging himself when he could. Instead, he rounded the pools as he came across them, painfully slow as it was. Twice, he heard the tell-tale sound of a chittering chaurus, sending him to the ground, his teeth clenched in fear that he might be discovered, knowing he hadn't the strength and luck to escape another, but the sounds were far off, and he went along unseen. With the foliage towering over him and the fog as thick as a storm cloud, there was knowing how much farther there was to go. He kept his head down, fighting to push on and ignore his throbbing head and weak limbs.
To his surprise, the reeds finally thinned and the fog lifted as he stepped out of the boggy mud onto a sandy bank. He looked up and blinked at the trees ahead of him. He had made it.
Without the time or strength to celebrate his little victory, Siddit continued on into the forest, noting the sun nearing the peaks of the westward mountains; he hadn't long to find water and shelter.
The forest proved to be much different from the saltmarsh, for better and worse. It was much easier going, the slimy earth he once trod replaced with firm, loamy dirt and short grasses much more akin to the typical forests from his home province of Skyrim. The similarities to home seemed to end there however. The trees here were far larger and older than any he had seen before, the pines stretching up over a hundred feet into the air, the oaks' trunks nearly the size of a small cabin, their roots thick and tall enough that he had to clamber over them. The dying sunlight scattered through the canopy, leaving the forest floor a patchwork of light and shadow and unfortunately difficult to make out in the twilight hours. Siddit grunted and groaned as he tripped and scrambled his way further on, trying hard to keep on his feet, straining his eyes and hoping he could find a pond or creek or even a muddy puddle. The strange, wild cries from earlier had returned as he went further in, the sounds seeming to come from all around him though he saw nothing of their sources. Shadows flittered just out of sight, behind the many massive trees, rustling within thick undergrowth on every side. Siddit panted as he hurried as well as he could.
Another shoulder-height root came into view ahead. A curse on his lips, the Nord mantled onto it and threw his legs over, resting a moment, his body still shaking as his head throbbed. His vision swimming from the pain, he at first didn't notice the shimmering glint just a few paces ahead of him. It was the sound of babbling water that first reached him. He had jumped from the root before he even realized what he was doing, shooting forward in a mad dash. He fell to his knees at the edge of a small creek, the water barely a half-foot deep, but it didn't matter. He crawled forward on his hands and knees to the edge and scooped water into his mouth madly. The ice-cold water hurt his sore, cracked throat, but it was magnificent all the same, and it tasted to him like the nectar of the gods in that moment. Driven by his thirst, he forwent his hands and simply stuck his face into the water, gulping down mouthful after mouthful. He choked and sputtered as he drank too fast, but he didn't care. All thoughts to the shadows in the brush and the cacophony in the air were gone. Nothing mattered but the water before him, so he drank and drank and drank.
It didn't take long for Siddit to fill his stomach, forcing him to stop. He breathed hard, groaning as he leaned back, sitting up against a mossy rock, his eyes closed. Refreshing as it was, his throat still burned and he still ached and shook with exhaustion. It would take some time for his body to absorb all the water he had drunk. His stomach grumbled from hunger, but he could tide himself for a while without eating; the hard part was out of the way.
Sleep threatened to take him again, and, as much as he would enjoy another rest, he couldn't ignore the threat of sleeping in the open. He'd have to find shelter before long. Forcing his eyes open, he blinked away the sleep, focusing on the darkening forest ahead of him. A loud, rumbling snort filled the air right as he laid his eyes on a massive horned creature just across the creek. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding madly in his chest, his body frozen as he tried to process what he saw.
At first, he thought it to be an oversized clannfear, but the beast seemed different somehow. At the very least, it wasn't howling mad and trying to cleave him from his bones as clannfear typically behave. It was hard to make out all of the mottled green-scaled creature's features, but it seemed to be reptilian quadruped with large flat feet and a bulky build, much different from the predatory daedra. The large, patterned crest and beak did resemble the clannfear's somewhat, but the horns the thing before him possessed were bigger and more robust. As he watched, the beast looked back at him with small amber eyes, seemingly taking its measure of him as well, before returning its beak to the creak and drinking as he had. Another rippling snort came from behind it, and Siddit saw the creature was not alone: a herd of the things stood behind it, most of them moving to drink from the creek as well. A few smaller younglings followed closely alongside the adults, drinking only after they started doing so. Siddit breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the herd, taking note as one of the older looking specimens at the edge of herd ate grass at the creek's edge. Whatever they were, they were herd animals, grazers at that, and he had never known any of the daedra to eat plants. Still, thinking back to all of the defensive elk and deer he had known in Skyrim, he knew it wasn't best to test any large beast, especially with young in their midst. With his hands on the rock for support, he lifted himself slowly, keeping an eye on the creatures across from him, noting as the largest did the same with him. He stepped carefully from around the rock and backed away from the herd, facing them as he did so. The creature watched him as he went before finally huffing loudly and returning to his drinking. With that, Siddit turned and walked off at a steady pace. After he was out of earshot of the group, he headed up hill for a long stretch and doubled back to the creek once he was certain he would be far away from the reptiles. He knew he had to give them a wide berth, but there was nothing to be gained from losing sight of the only water source he had found. Still, encountering them was a good reminder that the water source would serve to attract other animals as well, and he was fortunate enough that he was able to reminded of the fact by an unaggressive breed of beast. He made it back to the stream and kept just within sight of it, taking care to remain quiet. With need for shelter, he decided to follow the stream up, hoping that he would find some alcove or perhaps a cave as the creek went up to the mountains he had seen from the shore.
The forest began to turn a brilliant fiery orange as the sun touched the western peaks, like a wildfire was rising to meet him. The impression did not sit well with Siddit, and he hurried along. The water was finally starting to assuage his thirst, giving him a new boost of energy though he still limped on his way, the scratches, bruises, and blisters aching as they had. The going grew more difficult as the land began to gradually incline, the flat forest floor sloping upwards as rocky protuberances poked through the earth and the ground turned down steeply seemingly at random, forcing him to either climb or round them, both options costing him time and energy of which he had little to spare. Still, he trudged upwards, always keeping the stream within earshot.
Some ways up, a long portion of the forest floor had washed out ages ago, forming a sort of ledge, enough for him to crawl beneath. He stopped a moment and considered the spot; It was the best cover he had found so far, but it was very open, and the ground beneath was inclined. He would be likely to roll down in his sleep. With a sigh, he carefully grabbed onto the edge of the raised lip of earth, jumped, and rolled himself up. As he stood and walked on, he immediately noticed the thinning pines and more level ground beneath his feet. He stepped into a vast clearing, a resplendent meadow filled with an array of flowers of all colors and equally diverse range of bewildering creatures. Siddit watched on in awe, his mouth agape. They were all astounding: all manner of feathered beasts walking on two legs, some little larger than a dog, others the size of Skyrim's native giants, and a multitude of those in-between. Alongside them marched more of the horned things from earlier and another quadruped, these having small pointed heads, numerous plates along their spine, and a wicked set of spikes upon their tails. Feathers and scales came in all the same colors as the flowers they walked between and dined upon, a rainbow of forgotten creatures. A myriad of voices echoed between the trees along the clearing, hoots, howls, rumbling blasts, trilling whistles, and many more indescribable sounds. Without question, Siddit had found himself in an unknown world—one he was beginning to think he would never leave.
Siddit hardly noticed as he walked through the meadow, meandering around the strange beasts, his eyes passing over all of them as if in a trance. The creatures looked back at him in turn, many with blank gazes like that of most beasts, others with what he half-imagined to be curiosity, shock, or wariness. Some fled, others snorted in defiance, but most simply glanced and then went back to eating or resting. It all felt so surreal to him, as if he'd died in the wreck of his ship and found himself in some bizarre afterlife. Maybe he had found himself in some strange corner of Sovngarde? But he recalled the very real terror of the chaurus encounter and the agony of his thirst only recently slaked, and he concluded that he was very much still alive.
Despite the large number and sheer volume of the meadow, the place seemed to hold a peacefulness Siddit had not yet found anywhere else in that strange land. He was loathe to leave it, but there could be no shelter to speak of there, and while the species present all seemed herbivorous, they could still be violent, and where prey gathered, predators were sure to be near. And with plant-eaters of this size, he shuddered to think what could hunt them. At that thought, he pushed to the edge of the meadow, took one last look back, and returned to the forest.
The creek was fortunately still nearby, so Siddit continued to head uphill alongside it, never getting too close. His thoughts were still consumed with what he had just seen, still bewildered by all of the strange beasts that defied anything he had been taught of the natural world. These thoughts kept his mind occupied as he climbed upward.
The sunset had begun in earnest, the deep orange light giving way to long shadows. Perhaps it was despair at the thought of not finding shelter before nightfall, perhaps is was just the memory of the things he had seen, but Siddit couldn't help but feel as if he were being watched. He glanced over his shoulder often, and twice stopped to listen for footsteps. He shook his head and plodded onwards, but he couldn't shake the feeling. If something were after him, he couldn't imagine the beasts in this land would need or use stealth on something like him, but the thought only left him more unnerved; if it wasn't one of those things after him, then what could it possibly be?
He stopped his mind's wanderings as he came to a small clearing, the pines having thinned to allow the grass and a few flowers a place to thrive. The area stretched to the creek on his right, a veritable wall of thicket and brush bordered it to his left. Something stopped him as he reached the edge of it. Then, a noise reached his ears, a sort of soft patting.
Almost immediately it turned into a thunderous pounding, and he hadn't even the time to duck or dodge when one of the large feathered creatures burst through the foliage to his left. One of duck-billed ones, it was running at a breakneck pace, much faster than he ever could've imagine one of those creatures might. It shot past him, the wind nearly pushing him from his feet. The beast was honking madly, and, for a brief second, he could make out where clumps of feathers had been torn from its hide, and he could see spots of scarlet on the grass where it had trampled past him. He hadn't any time to consider the fact as a number of figures followed close after the wounded animal. They move much quicker, a flurry of smaller brown-feathered bipeds shooting past. The larger creature crossed the creek quickly and turned to go downhill, pushing aside any all brush and branches in its way, the sound of its crazed escape echoing throughout the mountainside forest. The pursuers made after it, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. Siddit stood frozen, trying to process what he had seen. It had came and went just a few heartbeats. It slowly dawned upon him that he had seen a pack of some small predators aiming to take down the larger prey, not unlike a pack of wolves might endeavor to hunt a mammoth if their pack was large or desperate enough. As he thought of the size of the creatures, he remembered the wounds on the duckbill: large clumps of feathers had been removed, gashes easily over a foot in length on its flanks. The creatures he had seen were about wolf-sized, some larger or smaller. The gears began to turn in his head as the sound of snapped brush and twigs and swiping leaves came from the brush to his left. In a instant, Siddit started to cross the clearing, running awkwardly, limping on one leg. He cursed himself for recognizing opportunists when he had seen them; the pack of smaller creatures couldn't have done such damage to the prey beast; Something bigger was coming.
He was nearly to the other side when it stepped through. It was like the others, only much larger, nearly the size of a horse, its long brown feathers a darker coloration. Siddit looked over his shoulder at it, and to his horror the thing turned to look to him, its fiery eyes boring into him, and changed course directly for him as it let out a spine-tingling warbling cry, its mouth opening to reveal numerous knife teeth, every one of them stained with fresh blood. Siddit let out a cry of his own and turned to run as fast as he could, barreling through brush and bracken without any mind. He ran wildly, forgetting his limp, nothing but panic guiding him up the mountainside. The footfalls of the predator behind were so loud in his ears, coming so fast he knew there was no outrunning the thing. He dived to side and threw himself in a roll, hoping it would confuse it just a little and maybe gain some ground by rolling. He tumbled over grass and rocks, battering himself all over, but he eluded the beast, earning an angry shriek. He stopped against some thorny bushes and had to force himself up through them to get out the other side, tearing at his skin and his rough tunic and trousers. Running again through the clearing, he dashed to the creek, not knowing what else to do or where to go. His pursuer came through the thorny bushes without slowing at all, coming fast as it ran downhill. Siddit didn't have long to think on his mistake; the creature was on him in a flash, long before he ever reached the creek. A sudden pain erupted across his back, the sound of his own tearing tunic and flesh sickening him as he fell in a heap and rolled onto his wounded back, inadvertently pushing his open wound into the grass and dirt beneath. Through tears of pain, he could see his own blood on the beast's claws on its hand. His eyes darted between its open maw of razor teeth and the wicked hook claws on its feet.
There were no more tricks up his sleeve, no plan, not even a last ditch effort. He pulled himself back, watching his impending doom prepare to strike with fear in his eyes.
"No, no, no, no!" he pleaded, his breathing ragged. "Divines, help me!"
The creature cocked its head to the side as if to hear his pleas better or to mock him for such efforts. In an instant, it turned its head back and leapt through the air at him with another shriek, feathered arms stretched to the side and its vicious ripping talons bearing down on him. Time seemed to slow as Siddit watched it sail through the air toward him, its claws less than a second from slicing through his abdomen and gutting him. Knowing he had no chance of escape, he grit his teeth and hoped his end would be swift.
The creature's shriek was split as another resounding cry filled the air, a spitting, hissing yowl. Siddit blinked in surprise as the pouncing beast was knocked from the air as a blur crashed into it from above. The pair moved too fast for him to make any sense of what was happening. He watched, dumbfounded, his mind slow to realize he should back up if nothing else. His strength drained, he dragged himself back some as he looked on. The feathered reptile twisted and turned as it tried to get the thing off of its back but to no avail. As they slowed, Siddit could make out a flash of white, blue and brown upon the beast's back, and a furry tail sticking high up in the air as it hung on tight. The reptile screamed as the other beast ripped into it, feathers and blood flying through the air. Its cry was cut short as the rider seemed to Siddit to reach forward and grasp at the predator's neck. It jerked wildly as blood slipped from its throat to the ground, and, with one harsh spasm, it flung its adversary off of it and over its head. The colorful blur flipped in the air and landed neatly on its feet not far from where Siddit sat. He stopped his retreat as he gazed on his strange helper.
It was a Khajiit, but one unlike any he had ever seen before. There were few in his native Skyrim, of course, but he had sailed to Elsweyr on occasion and had seen quite a bit of their kind, and many of their various furstocks. This one appeared to be Cathay, a rather typical variety, but that was where the usual ended. Its fur was as white as the clouds, save for a multitude of black spots across its body, and it had long flowing hair the color of the sky. Her obviously female form was scantily clothed with a wild assortment of pelts and feathers, the earth-tone furs clashing madly with the rainbow of hues found in the feathers. Though the Khajiit stared at her enemy, even from where he sat he could see her piercing sapphire eyes. The deep blue contrasted with the scarlet blood dripping down the snow-white fur on her chin and the same staining her clawed hands. It made for a stunning sight, even to one who had seen so much of the world and even the strange new land he found himself in. He could hardly tear his eyes from her, but the wounded creature's roar snapped him back to reality. It was bleeding badly, long slashes evident where the feathers had been torn from its hide, but it was a large, powerful creature, and Siddit could see a sort of primal anger in its eyes, the same he had seen in challenged bears and threatened kagouti, to know that it still had fight yet left in it. The Khajiit had done well, but he couldn't imagine the predator before him losing to a relatively unarmed person.
He grunted as he started to back away again, only to stop as a strange crackling filled the air. Thinking it was a bird or divines-forbid another of the predatory reptiles, he glanced around hurriedly as the soon grew in volume. It was only when he realized the sound was coming from the Khajiit and looked down did he see the tenuous, chirping ball of lighting clutched between the Khajiit's hands, her fur pricked up, her long cerulean hair rising from the static, a purple glow bathing them and the darkening forest. The feathered creature cocked its head to the side, seemingly as confused as Siddit as this development. It hadn't long to consider what it was when the Khajiit pushed her hands out towards it and let the bolt of lightning loose with a deafening thunderclap. Siddit flinched hard, falling flat to his back, the image of the bolt blasting into the predator's head seared into his eyes. He scuttled further back as he blinked away the sight, listening for any sound of an injured, enraged beast or another charge of magical lightning. Instead, he only heard silence, but soon the small of charred flesh and feathers hit him. The vision gone from his sight, he looked up to see the reptile collapsed on the ground, spasming in an awkward contorted position where its muscles had contracted involuntarily from the shock. It looked to have been killed instantly. The Khajiit wasted no time however, running on hands and feet towards the downed creature. She shot her head down, bit deep into its scaled neck, and tore out its throat as any sabrecat of Skyrim would. Siddit watched in breathless silence as the Khajiit looked into its eyes for a short, tense moment before falling back onto her knees, panting hard. He had no idea what to think of what he had just seen. A Khajiit unlike any he had seen before had just slaughtered a vicious predator with a level of brutal, primal power and markedly advanced magic he had never seen before, saving his life when he thought all was lost. That was shock enough, but to see another living, thinking being like himself was enough to bring tears to his eyes, surprising himself immensely. It was only just then dawning on him that he was, not only alive thanks to her, but also not alone like he had feared and accepted. Catching his breath and clutching his side, Siddit stood and limped over to where she knelt and continued to breath hard, still watching her slain enemy. He paused a moment, unsure what to say after everything that had occurred, not just then, but since he had found himself in this strange new land. Without anything better coming to mind, he decided to keep it simple. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Thank yo—"
An ear-piercing yowl filled the air, making Siddit jump and fall onto his bottom gracelessly. The Khajiit likewise leaped through the air and turned to face him, her brilliant blue eyes open as wide as possible as she stared at him in shock. He made to raise an open palm, fearing what she might do, his thoughts immediately returning to the peal of thunder that still rang in his ears, his eyes darting to the open seeping wound upon the deceased reptile. His hand hadn't a chance to leave his side by the time she turned and raced off like a feral cat on all fours towards the nearest tree and shot up as if she were still running on the earth below. He watched, mouth agape, as she climbed onto a thick limb and pounced to another tree, all without breaking her mad run, leaping and climbing from one tree to the next as she went further up the mountain side through the canopy above. In the span of a few of his hurried heartbeats, the Khajiit was gone as if she had never existed. Long he sat there, thinking about everything that had just happened, ignorant to the darkness of night and the pain across his body, trying in vain to process every mind-bending occurrence he had encountered since he had awoke on the beach.
What a day it had been.
With what little strength he could muster, Siddit moved as far as his weary feet could take him from the dead creature and collapsed by the remains of a large fallen oak. The tree remained propped up against a number of pines further downhill, leaving its sprawling roots pulled partially from the earth and offering a bit of shelter. The Nord crawled to the hole where the tree once firmly stood and rolled in. He nested deep where the last of the roots kept in the ground, ignoring the the dirt and prodding of old dead twigs in his back. It was shelter, and that was all he wanted then. Curling into the fetal position, he closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep almost instantly.