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Wisdom of the Ancestors - An Elder Scrolls RP


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Galus - The Reach

 

The journey had been a fairly pleasant one thus far, though no one had spoken much. Thankfully, no trouble had beset them in the wilds, the noise they made alone was enough to keep most wild animals at bay. And the bandits, if there had been any, thought better of attacking such a well equipped group. Now though, they were in the Reach with something like 30,000 foemen, Thalmor and Forsworn, crawling the hills. The mage's tale was a mildly interesting, Galus figured Dagon had his hands in it, but doubted whether the Prince would give up his mantle so easily. The orc would probably die after serving his purpose rather than obtain his crown. Rather than speak up though, Galus kept his slightly sulky silence. He was not out from under the shroud of suspicion himself yet. That was a point of bitterness and animosity for him. The group didn't know Baltis, could not know Baltis, and yet they let him carry on like a normal human being. As if the monster was anything close to human.

 

Adrynn's speech had been stirring. It spoke to the perils of their situation and of what must be done should they encounter trouble. Galus knew he could not withstand their numbers if they were in the thick of a large army, but he could thin them and help to either push the party forward, or cover their rear. The brand on Adrynn's palm made Galus blink and squint, as if to verify that what he was seeing was real. There truly were greater powers at work here.

 

Ra'Qassar - The Reach

 

The Thane listened to the wanderer's story. It was a song he had heard before, some apprentice, supposedly ignorant of their master's intentions, seeking out the master to bring them to justice. The motives varied with the names and so did the validity of the tales. The orc could be a great threat, but if Ra'Qassar's well trained ears had not heard anything about him in the province, he doubted that this Kr'ohr woul trouble them on their mission. Still, he felt obliged to let the mage know about the orcish strongholds, "I have traveled far and wide, mage, I hunt and trade with some of the Orcish strongholds but have heard nothing of your necromancer, perhaps they have though. The nearest one is Dushnik Yahl to the Southwest. I do not believe this monstrosity is in Skyrim, however."

 

Ra'Qassar nodded in agreement with Adrynn, and then with Sandhya. Ra'Qassar was not a coward, but he knew that in war, advantages were everything and stealth was more his domain than the front lines. He had been a Scout, an agent and above all, a hunter. He would see them to the Karthspire, all alive if that was possible, and he made a mental note to attempt to coerce Svarn if that was necessary. When Adrynn revealed his brand, Ra'Qassar felt nothing. He had had no knowledge of the brand, no word about it, no hinting, but somehow it did not surprise him. Perhaps it was one of Rorik Wind-Bane's tales from the Dark and his companions during the Oblivion Crisis.

 

Baltis Llervu - The Reach

 

Baltis knew this Kr'ohr gro-Lestim, the Orc had been meddling in Morrowind for a time, searching for artifacts and such, but that was long ago and Baltis suspected that he had heard of a far younger Kr'ohr than the mage had. Baltis didn't know much about him, other than his obsession with Daedra, particularly the Prince of Destruction, and his lust for power. The former had been a trait common with Baltis many years ago, but he had since let that pass. The Orc was accomplished now if he had been able to steal so many souls, but that did not mean he was a master. Baltis almost hoped they would cross paths so that he could test this budding necromancer's mettle. Baltis was fortunate that he could control his facial expressions so well when Adrynn mentioned necromancers rising and falling, else he would have been grinning like a fool. The lich had never fallen, not when he was rousted from the council, not when the Red Year came, not when the Argonian Invasion followed, not even when his house had been obliterated - almost obliterated. That was another order of business he still needed to finish. Baltis had stood the test of the Telvanni, the ages and the Daedra, and still he stood. He enjoyed watching Adrynn force himself to not stare at the undead mage. He was beginning to like Adrynn. He had felt pity for him for so long, it was refreshing to have some kindness and kinship seep in. The man's reflexes may have waned over the years, but his tact had not. Despite the Dunmer's temper, he still had some surprisingly diplomatic skills, Llervu had noticed. Adrynn took care not to hint at Baltis's nature or that of Galus. A gesture the lich appreciated deeply.

 

Svarn's brash bravado irked the lich. He sympathized with Adrynn's annoyance with the young and reckless. The two dunmer had lived a long time, and not by being vainglorious either. He lacked the words to sway the young and foolhardy, however, so he left it to Adrynn's more commanding dialect. Baltis hoped they wouldn't have anyone act stupid and play the hero. But there was always someone. Hopefully their luck would hold and Adrynn and Baltis could cover whoever's stupidity got them in danger. The covering for the rest of the group was probably best left to the one who couldn't die.

 

When Adrynn revealed his palm, Baltis felt the damp, electric tension in the air, felt that earthy aroma just before a storm when the skies are green. More than that though, he felt a torrent of power flowing through him, like a flick of his wrist could destroy the mountain.

 

I hope you appreciate this irony as much as I do, Azura.

 

I am well aware of your plight, my child. It felt like a sunrise heralding a new dawn- a dawn of understanding and strange possibilities.

 

I am no child of yours.

 

Perhaps not now, but you were once, and you may yet be. A sunset kissing a warm sand beach, giving way to the mysterious dusk, enveloping mystery and wonders.

 

Perhaps he owed Kriak and Adrynn more than he had even thought. It had been a long time since he had felt what it was like to have a soul.

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Svarn bolted to his feet, his temper flared. A burning heat in his chest that felt as if the Red Mountain itself had suddenly sprung up within him.

 

"My wife was murdered by these beasts! My unborn child died with her!" He growled, he did not expect the dunmer's words to anger him but being this close to the Reach had put him on edge.

 

"I watched as they killed her unable to do anything to stop them!" He said in his rage as he kicked a metal cup full of ale off into the darkness. "They spared me to make me forever live with it! And I chose to hunt them... to track them and kill them like the beasts they are so do not tell me when I cannot face them!" Svarn's normal stoic and disconnected nature had all but vanished as he raved, he fell silent and turned away, his anger vented.

 

Fenrir walked up and nuzzled his hand, Svarn knelt down and scratched him behind the ear. He looked over his shoulder at Adrynn.

 

"I apologize... I was not myself." He said with a heavy sigh, the boiling rage in his chest suppressed.

Edited by Macman253
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Baltis Llervu - The Reach

 

The Nord's hatred for the forsworn was quite justified, Baltis knew. However he couldn't help but shake his head as he stood and drew himself to his full height. "You want to face them alone? Fine, face them. Kill three, kill five, kill twenty. But what will happen? Not only will they have killed your wife and child but they will have killed you. Are those scores the same that killed your family? No. If you want them to pay, then live let every breath you draw be your vengeance. Then, when you have the forces and the power, come down on them like an iron fist and wipe them from the face of Nirn. But your death now will mean nothing to your wife and child. Live, Nord, live so that your family may live in your heart and so that their deaths will not have been in vain." Baltis's eyes flashed with a bright light behind them, partly just his passion and partly his magickal being. "Your life is a gift, and if what you say is true about watching your family die, then you were only just spared from the same fate. That is another gift in and of itself, do not squander it as others have."

 

Llervu didn't really know what had come over him. He suspected it was the rush earlier that had brought back the memories of his own family, of his apprentices, of his friends, of his retainers, of Kriak, of Ayra, of Garila, of Salms Andares, of everyone. Perhaps the precious nature of life was what he was truly meant to find in this new harrowing journey. Whether he had a connection with Svarn, or any of the other companions, he had to make sure that no one squandered the gift of life as his apprentice had, as he had.

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Every word Svarn said struck a chord in Willis. Though twelve years had passed, he still remembered each detail of his sister's death at Kr'ohr gro-Lestim's hands as though it had been mere moments ago. He couldn't help but empathize with the Nord's mentality. Empathy, however, was all he could offer—he had learned the futility of revenge years ago, and though he still craved the satisfaction of killing the Orc himself, he fully realized the greater implications of his quest. He gave a nod of approval in response to Baltis' words of wisdom.

 

His thoughts then returned to what Ra'Qassar had told him. He was grateful for the Khajiit's attempt to help, but found it highly doubtful that Kr'ohr would be anywhere near an Orc stronghold—that would be the first place anyone would look for him. Nevertheless, there was no harm in being certain, he supposed.

 

He just hoped it wouldn't be too late by the time his work here was done.

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Adrynn's face softened slightly after Svarn's outburst, though before he could respond, Baltis stepped in and pretty much took the words from the Redoran's lips. Adrynn nodded finally, crossing his arms and pulling his cloak tighter around him.

 

"Svarn, if you wish to do something that would honor your family, then take care with how you do it. Dying for their memories isn't as powerful as living to remember them," Adrynn added, his face clouding with thoughts of Garila, his long dead wife, and the memories of her that were fading ever so slowly. He couldn't even recall what she looked like clearly anymore. Though her scent, her laugh, and her headstrong personality still shone through in his mind. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to hide the pain that still welled in his chest. He missed Garila so much. She had always been the steady voice for him, to rein in his anger or moodiness. Now that he no longer had that, he felt adrift in a sea of pain with no shore in sight. After a moment to calm himself, he opened his eyes and glanced around.

 

"After we eat, I think it would be best if we all slept. We have will have a long day tomorrow, and we need to make sure we stay alert and focused."

 

The Redoran made his way to Ra'Qassar and crouched down, a slight smile playing under his beard.

 

"How's that goat coming, Thane?"

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Ra'Qassar - The Reach

 

Ra'Qassar listened intently to the back and forth of his companions, he hoped that this tension wouldn't last. It was bad for morale, and they would need all the morale they could get. Somehow, hearing about these tragedies made him feel incredibly saddened, Adrynn and Svarn had both lost families, Baltis something else it seemed, but what, or who? Ra'Qassar pitied them, but simultaneously he had a pang of self-pity: he had never been close enough to anyone to have those connections. The Thane had always been a bit of a loner, he had a few friends, but no fast companions that he broke bread and salt with regularly or sat and talked with for hours on end, or visited with whenever possible. Everyone had always been distant to the orphan. It was a curious thing, he was dull to the pain of loss, yet knowing that that kind of pain had never been possible for him was hard. He could attribute it to a great many things, but above all it was his fault. His own doing for being reclusive and preferring the tundra to the cityscapes and preferring his tools to people.

 

Adrynn's question brought him out of his reverie and Ra'Qassar shook his head slightly as if to clear his mind. He parted a section of flesh on the goat that he had been basting in its own grease and wild mountain herbs such as thyme and small onions. He judged the meat cooked through, "It is ready Dunmer, if you all would line up, we can all fill our bellies and get some sleep." Ra'qassar proceeded to portion up the meal and hand it to his companions as they approached.

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Sandhya remained silent as she took her portion of the meat, eating near the far edge of camp before stretching out on the grass to sleep. Her comrades had given her much to think on. She, herself, was a wandering soul, never really tied to one place, anyone, or anything. Though she missed her parents sometimes, and even her much-less-intelligent littermates, she knew they could fare well enough on their own. If fortune smiled upon them, they might cross paths once or twice a year. If not, it mattered little to the khajiit.

 

It wasn't long before the carefree cat was asleep.

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Svarn nodded and took in both Baltis and Adrynn's words, he knew these were far wiser men then himself. He silently admitted to himself they were right, his death would mean nothing now. He needed a plan, he needed to be patient. He thought heavily on this as he used his battle-axe to stoke the fire, the heavy weapon turned the charred logs effortlessly and released the quick burning embers into the sky. Memories of his childhood going through his mind of the times he and his father spent in the wilds of the Reach hunting for the Jarl.

 

When the goat was finished Svarn pulled the cooked rabbit from it's spit and tossed it to Fenrir, he sighed and stood in line. He shaved off himself a large piece with his knife and sat down with his skin of Alto Wine, eating and drinking heavily.

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Stirring slowly, gold flecked eyes flickering open heavily, Iodiria breathed a heavy, sharp breath, the pain in her side returning as she inhaled. A wound so deep would not heal as would a graze or scratch, this would need time and care before she was back to her full health. Something was amiss however, she was not in quite so much pain, and the wound had ceased to bleed.

 

Her vision hazy but regaining it's focus after a moment or two, she pulled up her visor and looked around in disbelief- This was not where she had collapsed, but neither was it the bowels of a Forsworn stronghold. Turning her head to the side she noticed the familiar golden glow that radiated from the armour of all of the Ordinators, those whom had served in the streets of Vivec's great many cantons at least. And almost instantly, she knew who this glow belonged to.

 

Faeryn.

 

With a soft but pained smile, the Mournful General reached out a hand to touch the chitinous plate of his armour, to ensure she was not experiencing a cruel hallucination.

 

"Faeryn? Yours is a mask I never thought to see again... you... saved me?" There was a subtle hint of embarrassment in her strained voice of serenity, for one to see her in such a state, unable to move from her wounds, crawling pitifully across the ground... This was not the legend of the Living Saint Iodiria would like to be told. But wounds befell all warriors, renown could not shield one from the brutality of such monsters as the forsworn.

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Adrynn silently took his portion of the meal and sat against the bluff wall, his eyes ever on the entrance to the overhang. Even though Ra'Qassar had found a good place for them to rest, Adrynn was uneasy. He ate quietly, keeping an eye on the entrance while he glanced over his companions. He felt old. Everyone here save Baltis and Sorinyarie were pitifully young in his eyes. Barely children. Yet in the back of his mind, he knew he was just feeling his years. Dunmer and all mer in general were known for their long life spans, but rarely did many see their first century. Sickness, war, and famine had a way of keeping life in check. He chuckled silently as he finished his food. He knew he had survived his long life of war for a reason. Azura had a purpose she needed him to do before he died, and she was damn sure he would be around to accomplish it.

 

He wrapped his heavy cloak around him and got as comfortable as he could against the cold stone. He stretched his legs out toward the fire and pulled his hood up. He glanced to Baltis, who seemed to be picking at his food and smiled slightly. The lich probably had no need to eat, though might need to for the sake of appearances. Adrynn had something he could do to keep the lich busy.

 

"Baltis, mind keep first watch for me? Wake me before the sun rises, so I can take the next shift," Adrynn asked, before crossing his arms in his cloak and drifting into a light slumber.

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