Wisdom of the Ancestors - An Elder Scrolls RP

[Zephyr2011]

Galus - The Reach

 

Galus took an average sized helping, enough to sustain him, and some of the extra root vegetables the Khajiit had gathered. He settled in near the fire and ate his food quickly but quietly. He still didn't say much, and when he finished his meal he unrolled his mat near the edge of the dome and slept apart from the others, partially because of his new-found shyness and partially because with his frayed nerves, his still awake companions would stop sleep from coming to him for a very long time if he lay near the fire.

 

Baltis Llervu - The Reach

 

Baltis took a small portion of the goat as befit someone of his slight build and a slightly larger portion of the root vegetables. He knew the alchemical uses of every one as well as their immediate effects if devoured, most were subtle, but a skilled mage and alchemist could enhance them greatly with the right spells. He picked at his food, noting Adrynn's gaze on him, eating small bits of meat at a time so that his "digestion" was less obvious. As each morsel slid down his gullet it was incinerated with a small gout of flame. It gave no outward physical signs, but a skilled mage might detect the energy put off by his spells, though the mage would have to concentrate hard to detect anything beyond the glacial mist that was his aura. Once he finished his meat, Baltis consumed the vegetables and herbs, this time though, they were encased in ice for storage rather than destroyed. Even in life he ate his food one thing at a time so it certainly wouldn't appear any stranger than that to anyone else.

 

The lich smiled slightly when Adrynn asked him to take first watch. Baltis rose from his finished meal, "Certainly. I'll rouse you when you are needed." A light danced slightly in the lich's eyes, the playful spark of jest.

 

Baltis went to the mouth of the dome and sat near a rock, as silent as the stones themselves and slowly, one couldn't discern the difference as the darkness and mild chameleon spell took hold. The lich stared unblinkingly into the night, noting a pair of wolves running, their red tongues lolling out of their mouths tasting the air for the scent of some goat or deer. A great owl flew whisper-quiet from a massive pine tree to pounce on a field mouse of some sort and a flock of bats squeaked through the night as they ambushed moths and flies.

 

Ra'Qassar - The Reach

 

When the food was doled out, Ra'Qassar took his own portion, fairly modest, then dressed and salted the meat before hanging it higher above the fire to cure it. There wasn't much left but it could provide some nice energy between camps. His task complete, the Khajiit readied his bedroll and climbed in, still in his armor with his sword next to his right arm and his dagger under his balled up cloak. He slept with one hand atop his chest and the other underneath his pillow, both weapons at immediate access should danger come, but it never did.

 

Baltis Llervu - The Reach

 

The watch was uneventful, other than a desperate pack of wolves bringing down a bear cub and then having to deal with its mother. That was far off though, nearly half a mile from the camp. Baltis judged that it was about an hour before the rosy pink dawn would be heralded by the ever lightening shades of grey and finally make her appearance. The plan was to set out as soon as the sun peered over the edge of the horizon so Baltis returned to the cave and spoke to Adrynn. "It's time Adrynn, make yourself ready then we'll rouse the others." Baltis had never had any intention in letting Adrynn stand watch for any length of time, but if the Redoran was awake before everyone else was, it would appear that the Redoran had taken a watch after all. Appearances could be everything.

[darkedge42392]

Adrynn roused himself when he heard Baltis's voice next to him. He blinked a few times, and checked the opening of the overhang. The sky to the east was a slight shade of grey. Dawn was almost here. He frowned and rubbed his face as he sat up a little straighter. It seemed Baltis had kept watch throughout the night, despite Adrynn's request. Though the Redoran did feel rested and ready. He groaned as he stretched his legs before standing up. He made his way to the entrance and poked his head out to get a bearing. Night still fell heavily upon the Reach, though the sky to the east was steadily lightening. It was time to get everyone ready.

 

Stepping back into the overhang, Adrynn tested his sore knee. Though it throbbed from lying still most of the night, it didn't seem to be hurting as much as it normally was. That was a good thing, he supposed. He moved through the cave, rousing everyone with a small touch on their shoulder or a small shake.

 

"Get up everyone, it's almost time to leave," he said, loud enough to make sure his voice pierced the foggy veil of sleep's embrace.

[AurianaValoria1]

Sandhya, who had ended up curled in a ball with her tail over her eyes, popped awake and rocketed to her feet, "This one is awake!"

 

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Faeryn raised his own mask, speaking a bit haltingly as he was still a bit breathless, "Don't...feel bad...we...were saving our own hides as well."

 

Glancing around, he did not yet see Serrabinashiah, though he was certain she had been following him. Looking up, he saw that they were at the rocky base of the Karthspire, though no way up was in sight.

[SoulofChrysamere]

Sorinyarie: The Reach

 

 

The past few days' travels had weighed heavily on the aged battlemage - very heavily. The Labyrinthian's taint had slowly dissipated as they journeyed from the living ruin and steadily worked their way toward the Reach. By the time they had moved through Rorikstead, most of the muddle that she felt had left, although there were still traces of it lingering. Despite this, Sorin had stoically forged on with the others, refusing to be halted by feelings of magical drowsiness. She had faced far worse things and lived to tell about them, the delve into Shalidor's citadel being an instant new highlight to her extensive itinerary.

 

Once the group had entered the Reach, its rate of travel had noticeably slowed yet still made good time considering the type of terrain it had to traverse. The cliffs and canyons left few routes to and from any location, and fewer still of those routes were relatively straightforward. Sorin wasn't put off too much more than usual by it, although she still had wary reservations. She might not have been a scout like Suetin and Serra, but her more combative, high-profile incursions into the Reach had given her a veritable knowledge of the region's layout in her own right - certainly more than enough to fare better than a common infantryman. However, experience with the land didn't necessarily imbue her with any comfort. The high, jagged hills and cliffsides appeared to jut into the heavens themselves and stretch onward for a seemingly infinite number of miles in all directions. That feeling she got whenever she managed to make it back out of the Reach - that feeling of freedom and victory when she saw those lofty crags finally terminate before Whiterun's plains or Haafingar's foothills - never failed to envelope her with a permeating sense of relief. Indeed, the Reach's mountainous topography made her feel like a small rat scurrying through the hallways of an engineered maze in search of a sliver of cheese that lay at the end. That notion had always cultivated and reinforced her conviction that after her years grew too many for her to remain active in the field, she would be perfectly content to never see a patch of labyrinthine earth again.

 

When the group had stopped to lodge in that cavern for the evening, Sorin had hoped it would afford her the chance to get a decent night's sleep. Unfortunately, Svarn's outburst and Baltis's and Adrynn's subsequent retorts had irritated old wounds in her. Hearing Svarn's tale of how his family was butchered by the Forsworn before his very eyes hearkened the elf's mind and heart two centuries into the past, back to Vvardenfell Island in Morrowind and the fort that served as a shrine of both joy and sorrow for her - Fort Floodgate. Even now, the nightmare still occasionally came. She would be up there on the fort's battlements, reliving the assault that claimed her friend and mentor Nenalaamo's life. No matter how much arcane horror she rained down on the mercenaies below, she would always see that despicable arrow lodge itself in the commander's skull and lay his suddenly lifeless body out on the stonework. All throughout her halfhearted slumber, the nightmare was a recurring blight, disallowing any measure of truly restful sleep. It was a scar that still had not fully calloused, and she sometimes felt like an emotional weakling for seeking moments of solitude during the nights when the pain was especially intense and crying her eyes out over the fact that her teacher had only been allowed a fraction of existence in Tamriel compared to her own. There was no control, no moderation in her outpourings, no bridle of any kind on the release. She bawled like a little child. Yet, there was a part of her that would always chastise her whenever she tried to harden herself against the memory's effects, as if the paragon beneath the soldier's gnarled exterior refused to let her desensitize herself to the trauma, knowing in what it would ultimately culminate. Eventually, she wouldn't be deadened to just her own suffering, but the suffering of others as well. This fact always drove her to heed her conscience's rebukes. Although it was still hard at times to cope with Nenalaamo's death, the last thing she wanted to do was become a heartless old crone devoid of empathy.

 

Sorin was violently jerked from the nightmare's latest instance when Adrynn tapped her on the shoulder to wake her. She didn't scream, but she jumped and remained scrunched there against the wall for a few seconds with a look of fear and fatigue on her face. Once her brain caught up with her body, she stood and stretched to limber up her stiffened joints. The battlemage hadn't gotten one single iota of deep sleep the entire night, and she could feel it both mentally and physically. Barely being able to walk straightly, she sauntered through the small cave and out of the entrance, taking a seat on a small rock and looking out over the Reach. It was still somewhat veiled by the dying nighttime, but they were to move at the crack of dawn, and the sun could be seen slowly peering over the horizon.

======================================

 

Serrabinashiah Masseribalit: The Reach

 

 

To Serra's delight, Faeryn had moved much more quickly with Iodiria on his back than she had hoped. She had delayed her own retreat for about thirty seconds to ensure that her Ordinator friend had a good shot at escaping the Reachmen even if she herself got killed. She parried blows from wooden and bone weapons while dodging the hilltop archer's arrows, making sure to keep skirting around and not get surrounded. Once she deemed her tarrying no longer feasible, she loosed a few fireballs at her attackers and then bolted down the path after Faeryn.

 

By the time she had dashed down the road and across the bridges leading to the Karthspire Island, Serra was out of breath. She looked behind her and, thankfully, the Forsworn had abandoned the chase. She drew in heaving gulps of air for a few moments before returning her blades to a defensive stance and calling out for Faeryn.

 

"Faeryn? Where are you?" She hollered, hoping no other bands of Forsworn had happened upon him and Iodiria.

[Glitchipedia]

Willis did not sleep, per se—he had been taught that meditation was a much more effective and productive form of rest. In this state, he would be able to better understand and command the images that came to him and solve puzzles that bested him in his waking state.

 

So he had been told, anyway.

 

In reality, he found it to be almost exactly like sleep, just deeper. As immersed as he was, his meditative dreams made no more sense than any other kind. Once in a while he would relive old memories, some good, some decidedly not. But the rest of the time, it was just a jumble of concepts that didn't otherwise fit together. Even being a mage, he had never once received what one could call a "vision". He had speculated on the reasons for this, but nothing he tried seemed to make a difference.

 

Sensing a tap on his shoulder, Willis opened his eyes to see Adrynn rousing everyone. Realizing what was going on, he broke his meditative posture and rose to his feet, picking up his sword and hanging it once more from his belt.

 

"Lead on, friend," he said, nodding to the Dunmer.

[darkedge42392]

After everyone was up and moving, Adrynn gathered his gear, kicked out the fire, and made his way out of their camp. The sun was just starting to rise. The Redoran nodded and led everyone deeper into the fleeing night.

 

The day passed quickly, and the group made progress traversing the rugged terrain of the Reach. They didn't encounter any Forsworn, though the hills rang with their hunting calls. The reason for it was soon apparent, as the group passed above a large column of Imperial soldiers hurriedly escaping the Reach, the Forsworn hounding their flanks the entire way. Adrynn stayed on alert and pushed faster, making a wide berth around the Forsworn parties. Late in the day, they finally reached the river that wrapped it's mighty waters around the Karthspire. They were almost there.

 

"We'll we're almost there," Adrynn said grimly, wiping the sweat from his face. He glanced behind him to make sure they were not being followed. Right then, a Forsworn archer popped over the ridge with a yell and let loose his arrow at the Redoran. Adrynn instinctively sidestepped, but the arrow lodged itself in his pauldron. Enraged, he let loose a fireball that ate the space between them and exploded when it hit the unfortunate fool, sending the charred corpse flying. Suddenly, the hills came alive, the howls and screams of the Forsworn signalling they had found a new quarry. The deranged Bretons swarmed over the ridge in a large group, hailing arrows at everything that moved while more spread out from the surround hills, trying to trap the companions.

 

Adrynn snapped the arrow off in his armor, spinning toward everyone and growling, "What are you waiting for?! MOVE!"

[Macman253]

Svarn did not sleep well, he tossed and turned on his bedroll. The events of the night kept him awake and being so close to the Reach made him uncomfortable, he could smell the Forsworn like he was standing next to one. He climbed out of his bedroll quietly, so as not to disturb the still sleeping party and grabbed his axe and bow. He walked to the crest of a nearby hill facing east, towards the Reach and gazed out at it.

 

The nights sky was lit with the dancing lights that gave the Reach a strange ominous glow.

 

"A cursed place filled with cursed people..." He muttered, a well of rage like he felt earlier began to stir within his chest. It felt like he drank half a dozen bottles of Stros M'kai rum.

 

Fenrir sat besides him and licked his fingertips, Svarn smiled and immediately the anger vanished. The one thing that Fenrir could do was calm Svarn. He stood out on the hill until morning and when he returned to camp the party was beginning to pack and leave. He wordlessly packed what little items he had and followed.

 

Svarn drew his axe when he heard the first call, Fenrir began to growl as he caught the numerous scents of Forsworn. A tingle of fear ran up Svarn's spine as he realized exactly how many Forsworn were present in the Reach.

 

When he saw the Dunmer vaporize a Forsworn Svarn dug his axe into the earth and drew his bow, he knocked a pair of arrows, spreading the tips with his fingers and loosed them. The raven-feathered arrows struck a charging Breton woman in the heart and head and she toppled over after taking several steps.

 

Svarn grabbed his axe and whistled to Fenrir, who was busy barking at a pair of Forsworn archers on a ridge. Fenrir followed Svarn as he ran to Adrynn.

 

"We need to get to high ground!" He said as he glanced at the broken arrow in the Dunmer's paulder.

Edited September 5, 2013 by Macman253

[AurianaValoria1]

Sandhya wasted no time in running for what appeared to be the mouth of a cave on the slopes of the Karthspire mountain. Despite the fact that at least two Forsworn stepped into her path, she easily dodged between them and stabbed one in the gut as she passed. The lithe khajiit kept on running, slipping into the shadows of the cave and plastering herself to the walls.

 

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Faeryn heard Serra's voice and stepped out from the juniper bushes, "Over here!"

 

Then, the sounds of battle suddenly came from over the rocks, to the north. There was a fight going on near the Karthspire's entrance...

[darkedge42392]

Adrynn drew his sword and pointed to the great Karthspire mountain that rose from the river.

 

"THAT is our high ground, Svarn!" Adrynn yelled over the sounds of the Forsworn's battle cries. He glanced around. Sandhya had already disappeared toward the mountain, which was good.

 

"Everyone, to the Karthspire! NOW!" Adrynn yelled over the wind. "Don't fight them! Not here! Get into the mountain!" He wasted no time in running as fast as his knee would allow him toward the cave that Sandhya had disappeared into. But the Forsworn were trying to cut him off. He blasted them aside with a fireball.

 

"C'mon! Keep moving!" He urged to everyone else.

[Glitchipedia]

Willis did not hesitate to heed Adrynn's order—there was a mission that needed completing, and they couldn't afford delays.

 

If only there were some way to explain that to the Forsworn.

 

No sooner did Willis start to run in the direction the Dunmer had indicated than he found his path blocked by two of the enemy number, lunging at him with weapons raised. Without stopping his charge, he raised both his hands forward, and before anyone could blink, lethal bolts of blue lightning struck his opponents with such force that they actually exploded, raining charred flesh and bones across the ground. A sharp pain coursed through him—discharging so much magicka at once was still a struggle even for him, in spite of the boost from his enchanted mage robe.

 

Alright, I think I've impressed them, he thought. No need for another flashy trick like that.

 

Then he sensed it. Whirling around, he drew his sword just in time to parry that of an attacker that had caught up behind him. What initially escaped his notice was the dagger in the man's other hand, which swept across Willis' chest faster than he could think—not a particularly deep cut, probably wouldn't even scar. A quick kick to the gut stunned the man momentarily, giving Willis just enough time to quite literally disarm him. The man fell to the ground, crying out in agony as blood gushed from the stumps that had once been his arms.

 

Not willing to delay any further, Willis returned his attention to reaching the Karthspire. Dodging the rain of arrows still assaulting the battlefield was no easy task—the ones he couldn't avoid, he tried knocking away with his sword or incinerating with fire spells. Inevitably, however, at least two arrows found their mark, no doubt due in part to the distraction offered by another pair of attackers who had jumped into the fray, also finding themselves dispatched upon Willis' blade. By the time he reached the safety of the cave, he was covered in tiny cuts from arrows that had grazed him, and had shafts sticking out of his hip and knee, both on the left side.

 

Nothing his repertoire of Restoration spells couldn't heal, but he would have to wait to be sure the resulting light wouldn't attract more undesirable attention.

Edited September 6, 2013 by Glitchipedia