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R.I.P. neildarkstar. Haven will miss you dearly.
| Avawne; A romantic adventure without the Carnival Cruise | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 12 2016, 04:46 PM (44 Views) | |
| neildarkstar | Oct 12 2016, 04:46 PM Post #1 |
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Overlord
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Avawne by neildarkstar » Sun Mar 18, 2012 1:37 pm Spoiler: click to toggle I'd just spent three of my last five Septims on a tankard of ale, and I sipped it slowly while I considered my situation. Broke, stuck in Bravil, and no relief in sight. Hell, no room for the night, either, and no prospects for getting one. I was in real need of a break. As I considered that, she walked into the Lonely Suitor like a countess walking into an outhouse. She was a youngish dark elf, with a perfect complexion and aqua colored skin that looked satin smooth. Her dark ruby lips glistened as though she'd just taken a sip of wine, and though she wore robes, her body was slim at the waist, but fully curved for pleasure in all the right places. I didn't want to stare, but my eyes were drawn back to her no matter how hard I tried to tear them away. It was as if there was nothing and nobody else in the room, and every second I looked at her fed my hunger for her companionship... and perhaps more... She stopped inside the door, and her eyes stopped on the publican, then moved on to examine the rest of us as she spoke. "I am seeking an Orc named Khadba Shadbu, and I've been told he may be found in this den of iniquity. Can anyone tell me whether he's here or not?" Trying to remain calm, I raised my ale and took a carefully measured swig. I then rose to my feet in what I thought would be a graceful, sophisticated manner but it might have gone better if I hadn't bumped the table spilling the last of the ale and the other items on the table to the floor. Grabbing for it, I knocked the chair I had been sitting on to the floor behind me, thus completing the grand performance. I did my best to ignore the mess, as I spoke. "I am Khadba Shadbu, What do you want?" She didn't answer right away, but came to my table and spent a moment looking me over carefully. With her hands, she motioned for me to turn around, so I complied. I couldn't resist flexing my butt cheeks a few times as she faced my back, and I felt rather than saw her slight smile. I know I'm not particularly handsome even by Orcish standards though I've been told I have lovely eyes... Of course, it was my mother who said that. I'm slightly large even for an orc, and a lifetime of wearing heavy armor and swinging blunt weapons had guaranteed a muscular build on that heavy frame. I was wearing blacksmith's pants and a sleeveless leather vest open down the front. I saw her eyes narrow as she noted the old scars on my chest and arms, reminders of past combats and mistakes not to be repeated. The publican arrived with a mop and a dry chair for her, and she sat at the table watching me closely as I managed to sit with no immediate disasters this time. After ordering a small glass of a good wine, she spoke again. "I am Alavesa Vendal. I must journey to Avawne, and I am seeking an escort to provide professional protection from beasts and bandits. This person will also function as a bearer and will be required to erect camps as needed. Tell me, are you an adventurer?" My prospects looked a little brighter, so I spent my last Septims on a fresh ale, before I responded. "Some have called me that, but in fact I am more a soldier of fortune. Adventurers work for adventure and a promise of treasure or loot, but I work for pay. I'm experienced in cross-country marches, living off the land, and combat. I expect to be paid for using those skills whether treasure is involved or not. My rate is two hundred Septims up front and every three months thereafter. Ten Septims per day, with bed, healing potions and food provided. My weapons and armor are also to be replaced or repaired as needed. For that, I will kill anything you want me to or die trying." Her eyes burned with reddish fire as she considered, then said "I think fifty Septims every three months, and three Septims per day is a more reasonable proposition. There are others who will work for less... " I considered for a moment, then made my real offer. "One hundred and twenty-five Septims to start because I need equipment, then one hundred Septims each three months afterward and five Septims a day. There are others who will work for less, but they may not be capable of defending you when you need it, or they may slit your throat in the night and take what they want in any case. That's my final offer, take it or go find those with less to offer." Her smile was like dawn breaking clear after a night of rain, as she accepted my offer and dropped a pouch of coins on the table. "There are one hundred Septims in there, I'll give you the other twenty-five this afternoon. Look for me in the Mage's guild between three and five today, or Silverhome on the Water after that."With that, she rose from her chair and left without further ado. I had never heard of Avawne, but I had a feeling it would be an interesting trip... In any case, I had preparations of my own to make. I wondered what it was going to cost me to get my old iron cuirass out of hock, and if my iron-bound club would do or should I go looking for an ax? * The next day dawned clear and bright, promising a good day to travel. The night before, Alavesa and I had shared supper at Silverhome on the Water, while she told me about Avawne. It seemed it was an old Fort that lay on the other side of the Nibonay bay then South about half the distance to Leyawiin. She had marked it on my map, told me her planned directions of travel, then rented a room for me. A pleasant beginning, indeed. Alavesa was dressed in laced leather pants, long sleeved shirt, and doeskin shoes. I could see she was used to traveling on foot, and had dressed accordingly with a sense of utility as well as being undeniably attractive. She had purchased a large backpack which I was to wear, and she had filled it with a variety of items that she didn't bother to show me. It wasn't too heavy, but when the two bedrolls had been added vertically to each side of it, I guessed it weighed a hundred pounds or so. I hadn't been able to afford my iron cuirass, so I wasn't overburdened even though I had purchased a steel ax. As we went, she stopped to gather flowers or roots, and placed them in a bag she carried at her side. She didn't say much about it, so finally I asked her what they were for. "I am primarily an apothecist, but also an alchemist. I gather ingredients like these flowers, and I turn them into potions that cure some diseases, or stave off the aging process, or enhance the beauty or charms of a woman... or a man. I then sell them for a nice profit. I've already gathered enough flowers to pay your wages for a week after they're processed."She smiled brightly, and said something about needing me to get troll fat and imp gall... Despite all of the gathering, we made good time and were near to Fort Nomore by mid afternoon and I was thinking we might be a third or more of the way to Avawne by the time we camped for the night. As we walked down a long slope between the old Fort ruins and a river, I saw furtive movement near where the path moved alongside the river. I knew we'd already been seen, and I was just about to warn Alavesa when I saw a bowman stand with a nocked arrow aimed our way. I moved in front of Alavesa and turned my back to the bowman with a suddenness that surprised her. She was even more surprised when the impact of the arrow in the backpack knocked me into her. I grabbed her wrist yelling "Come with me!" and led her off the road and into the entrance to the old Fort at a dead run. There was no way to tell what dangers might be inside the old Fort itself, but I led her up the stairs to the partially intact second floor of the outer tower. Once behind the protection of stone, I shrugged out of the backpack, and pulled my ax, looping the rawhide thong about my wrist. "Keep your head down, stay on this upper part of the stairwell, and be quiet so I can hear if they speak." After a few moments, I heard movement from below, and guessed there were three of the bandits in the lower portion of the tower. I could her them talking about whether to investigate the Fort interior looking for us, or to just wait us out down by the entrance. Eventually they opted to wait, and settled in by the stone archway. So much for a speedy trip... While we sat with nothing to do, we shared out a bit of jerky and some water. We dared not speak, but we shared a comfortable silence as the afternoon faded into evening. It was just a tiny sound... a soft scrape of leather on stone, like a leaf across grass, but it was enough... I heard it. I pressed close against the wall, and waited with hushed breath for whatever was coming up the stairs. A moment later, a Bosmer in leather armor and carrying a bow stepped around the corner, and took my ax squarely between the eyes. His head split, and he would have dropped but I caught him and lowered him quietly to the ground. I moved back to where I could look down through the ruined stones of the floor at the entrance way. There was a Dark Elf and a Redguard standing beside a small fire, with their attention fixed toward the flight of stairs. I dropped on top of the Redguard, swinging my ax at the Dunmer's head at the same time. The ax grazed the Dunmer's head, but he fell across the fire plunging us into smoky darkness as the Redguard struggled back to his feet. I was crouched near the ground, so with a backhand slash I took out his left knee while spinning toward the Dunmer and giving him a follow-up chop to the lower spine. Both bandits fell writhing to the ground, and I ended the Redguard's pain and his life with a chop to the back of his neck. Turning, I could see the Dunmer's spine was broken, and he couldn't rise, though he certainly tried. I stood over him watching for a moment, and then his struggles stopped. He looked at me through his haze of pain, and implored me at last, "Please, Brother, give grace."I knelt by him, took a small silver dagger from my belt, and cut his throat. As he died, Alavesa came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. We took what valuables there were from the dead bandits, collected the backpack, and moved down to their camp by the river where we spent the night. We spoke only a little before finding our way into our bedrolls. The next morning we moved on, leaving the dead for animals to dispose of. It was another pleasant, sunny day, and we traveled quickly to the footbridge that crossed over to the far bank near Fort Redman. We had crossed, and gone a fair distance South when it began to rain. The clouds had been gathering for a couple of hours, and the smell of rain had been getting stronger for quite a while, so the rain came as no surprise. We pushed on until dusk, and I made a small lean-to of branches and leaves where we put our bedrolls for the night. We decided against trying to keep a fire going in the general wetness, and we ate a cold meal of bread, and jerky, washed down with a small bit of wine Alavesa had in the backpack. We sat on our bedrolls under the lean-to, and talked while we waited to become sleepy enough to get into bed. In my line of work, curiosity is not always welcome or good, but I finally asked her what waited at Avawne that made such a journey necessary. She laughed a bit, but eventually told me. "I'm going to become a Lady. I have a charter from the High Council that grants a titled estate to anyone who will live in the manor at Avawne for at least a year. I am successful enough with my potions and creams, but if I were to be a titled lady, my market would expand to include much of the nobility that will not speak to me socially otherwise." She paused, peering out into the darkness and rain as if listening to a faraway voice. "Besides, my mother is originally from Vvardenfell, and always dreamed of joining the Imperial nobility as equals. I would love to make her dreams come true." We crawled into our bedrolls, and slept through to morning's light... such as it was. The day was deeply overcast, and rain continued to drizzle, sporadically graduating to actual showers. A lovely day... for waterfowl. Near noon, we came to a trail that led off towards the east, and Alavesa turned of onto it. "This is the path to Avawne, we're not very far away now. A couple of hours, perhaps a little more. Or so I was told." She set off at a quickened pace, and in an hour or so, we came into sight of an old ruined Fort. We stopped to admire her estate, but I had to ask, "So, I see the Fort, where's this manor you spoke of?" Alavesa looked a bit perplexed, and she answered slowly, "I don't know... It's supposed to be right beside the Fort. Maybe it's on the back side."She smiled hopefully, but I could see that her confidence was lacking. We arrived at the Fort, and no manor was evident, but a short way into a thick stand of woods was a small cottage that may have belonged to a goatherd or some such. As we neared the cottage, we could see that it appeared to have been long abandoned. The shutters on the windows hung crookedly, and the door had only one hinge left attached. There was however a handcrafted sign above the door that read "Avawne Manor". We finally ventured inside, disturbing a few small animals and a great deal of dust in the process. A rickety table stood at one side by a fireplace, and there was the remains of a bed in a far corner. That was the total of the furniture available. A host of leaves lay scattered in piles here and there on the floor which, surprisingly enough, was made of flagstones. They had probably been taken from the Fort's interior when the cottage was first built. I smiled, and said with a flourish, "Lady Avawne, shall we dine on the good silver, or shall we just have dinner outside?" For a moment, I thought I might be strangled, then she laughed and replied "At least it's dry in here, and we can have a fire if you'll be good enough to break the bed into a little smaller-sized chunks." I turned the bed into firewood while she swept the leaves out the door and managed to turn the table into a more or less usable item. I didn't feel secure with the door hanging and ready to fall, so I found some leather and made impromptu hinges that held it securely. Finally with a bright fire going, and food on the table, it really didn't seem so bad. After we ate, Alavesa told me she had arrived at a decision. "I'm going to go to Blankenmarch tomorrow and buy supplies that we can use to make this place comfortable. A little furniture, some refurbishing, and this place will be fine. Someday, I'll build a real manor here, and this place will be beautiful. It would have been nice if they had been honest with me. I'm determined to make this work, no matter what!" Later, we laid our bedrolls down by the fire, and crawled in for the night. The flagstones were hard,but I've slept on worse and so falling asleep was not a problem Staying that way, however was a different matter entirely... Sometime after midnight, I heard Alavesa moaning in her sleep, and it seemed that the temperature had dropped quite a lot. I opened my eyes, and realized that the coals of the fire were still glowing, but I could see my breath in the chill air. I carefully rolled my head to the side, and was surprised to see an imperial man in ancient dress standing beside Alavesa's bedroll. His face was contorted into a snarl of menace, and he reached down to Alavesa with an expression of hatred on his face. I rolled to my feet, and with a shattering war cry, swung my ax at his head. The steel ax just passed through him with no effect to him, but a shocking cold came from my ax and passed up my hand and into my arm. He turned to me, and drew back his hand as if to strike me, but I jumped out of the way just in time. A frigid blast came from his hand and turned the air to a numbing blast of coldness that was like a solid physical thing. Alavesa was awake and I motioned her toward the door as I dodged another freezing blast. She flew to the door and flung it open, and we ran out into the night taking nothing but ourselves and my ax. The ghost didn't come out of the house after us, apparently being satisfied with having his haunt all to himself again. For lack of anything better at hand, we went to the Fort itself. I found some old broken packing crates here and there that we could burn for a fire, and I soon had a small fire going. We sat huddled together for warmth by the fire until the sun came up and burned the chill away. I thought perhaps the manor was safe in daytime, so I went back and checked it out. I found nothing, and no sign of ghosts so I got Alavesa and we went back inside together. We soon set out for Leyawiin, because it was doubtful that Blankenmarch would have what we needed to both rebuild and get rid of ghosts. * We spent several days in Leyawiin while Alavesa bought lumber and building materials, and hired some labor to help with initial repairs. I was also pleased to receive a bright shiny new silver ax, since the priests at the church told Alavesa that I wouldn't be able to fight ghosts without a silver or enchanted weapon. I also got a new Iron cuirass, and greaves, so it was almost like a holiday for me. On our way back to Avawne we stopped in Blankenmarch to see what was actually there. I have to say, it was disappointing. When Alavesa introduced herself as the Lady of Avawne, the locals became nearly hysterical with laughter. "Oh, another Avawne Lady? How many does this make this year, two or three? ...And of course there were all those Lords... Don't worry, we'll bury you with the rest after a nice service..." She was upset, and we left shortly without much further contact. I had the feeling that Alavesa hadn't been aware of the other "Lords" and "Ladies", but she didn't say anything further. We arrived at Avawne, and unsurprisingly, there was still no sign of the supplies or the laborers. We made ourselves busy by erecting tents for ourselves, as we had no intention of staying in the "manor" until we'd found a way to deal with the present inhabitants. I made a fire pit, and brought wood from the nearby woods while Alavesa set about testing the water from the Fort's well. She pronounced it safe for drinking, and by then it was time to make some supper, so I built a small fire while Alavesa made some kind of stew out of local roots and some meat she had purchased. We had just set down to eat, when we were hailed from nearby. "Hello the camp, may I share your fire?" At that an Imperial Forester came clearly into view, and we welcomed him to our little camp. He introduced himself as Vertiu Oranius, and we spent a pleasant evening chatting. He was very informative about the Fort and the nearby area. He told us that there had indeed been a number of individuals and a couple or two who had been here to claim the title and lands. One had been killed by wolves in the nearby forest, and another had fallen from the top level of the Fort's outer tower. One or two were missing and presumed dead somewhere inside the Fort itself, but nobody was going to go in there to find the bodies. The Fort had a reputation for great evil and was generally avoided. The last known major incursion had been many years previous, when a work crew had taken flagstones from the Fort to use for the floor in the cottage. Shortly after that, the Lord of Avawne of the time was found dead in the cottage, and the place had been abandoned for several years after. The forester spent the night in our camp, and left just after dawn the next day. I built the fire back up, and we had a breakfast of hot porridge while we discussed what the Forester had told us. I wondered if the flagstones had something to do with the ghost, and I suggested that I investigate the Fort's interior soon. Alavesa agreed, but suggested I wait until the crew had finished their work on the cottage. The workers and supplies arrived a couple of hours before noon, and worked with amazing efficiency. The windows and door of the cottage was repaired, and the room partitioned to provide two separate sleeping quarters, presumably for Alavesa and myself. The workers were so efficient and hard working that they were ready to depart shortly after dark. I asked them if they wanted to stay there for the night, but the foreman said they had a new job the next morning. "Besides," he added, "No way in hell are we going to spend a night here! We have families!" and with that, they were gone. Alavesa and I had supper in the cottage, which was actually quite pleasant with a few candles and a roaring fire, but we elected to sleep in our tents. She didn't want a return engagement with the ghost. After she was in bed asleep, I went into the cottage and sat by the fire dozing lightly. I knew that without a confrontation there would be no end to the dilemma of living in a cottage that couldn't be slept in. Sometime after midnight, I felt a chill in the air, and opened my eyes to see the apparition standing beside my chair. As he moved to attack, I kicked free of the chair, and rolled to my feet swinging my ax into position. As he turned to renew his attack, I noticed that he was apparently wearing some sort of antique military uniform. He was translucent and faintly glowing with an evil looking green aura, and his face was twisted with rage as I swung the ax through his midsection. His rage turned to astonishment, and I think he was unprepared for the pain which was apparently inflicted on him with that blow. I raised the ax for an overhand swing, but he faded with an inarticulate scream and vanished before it could make contact. The ax was too heavy and moving too fast to easily halt, so it struck a flagstone a tremendous blow which knocked the flagstone loose and split it in half. I was examining the blade of the ax checking the damage as Alavesa came rushing into the room. "What are you doing in here, Khadba? I thought we were sleeping in the tents for safety? Are you insane?" I was pleased that she seemed concerned for me and I was smiling as I answered her. "We can't be rid of the ghost until we face it and banish it, can we?" In retrospect, my smile might not have been a good idea. "You idiot! You might have been killed, and then what would I have done? What if some beast had attacked me in my tent, or what if the ghost isn't confined to the cottage and came to me out there? This is an order from your employer, Orc! You will not take unilateral action without my express approval, or I shall terminate your employment without further notice! Get out of here and back to the tents so we can get some sleep! Dear Gods, what on earth ever made me think to hire an orc for protection?" As her tirade continued, I was studiously regarding the floor, when and oddity struck me. "Hey, look at this!" I pointed out the half of the flagstone that had landed upside down on the floor after being struck. The underside of the stone had writing on it. She bent down and regarded it carefully, then turned the other half over as well so that all of the writing was visible. Her brow furrowed with concern as she read it aloud, "Cidius Varian 3E 252 - 288." Alavesa looked up at me, and I could see she was near tears. "Khadba, this is a headstone... I'm sure they are all headstones, and they must be restored to the place where they belong" * We had pried up a few more of the stones, and they were indeed all headstones. After some discussion, it was decided that I would enter the fort after sunrise and find the place they had been taken from so we could return them. Lacking anything else to do, we returned to our bedrolls in our tents, and slept peacefully through the remainder of the night. After sunrise, I ate a light breakfast, lit a torch and opened the heavy wooden door leading into Fort Avawne. As the door opened dank, musty air gushed out in a rush, and I thought that there was likely no other open exit anywhere inside. Taking a heavy stone that had fallen from above, I blocked the door so it wouldn't close behind me. I'm not afraid of closed spaces, but given my mission, this place seemed more like a tomb than anything else, and I had no desire to be trapped inside. I took the torch in my left hand and used my right hand to hold my heavy ax on my shoulder as I entered that dark, musty, hall. Some twenty feet inside the hallway, I came to a flight of stairs, and there was a small brazier on each side at the landing below. Leaning down, I could smell oil in the bottom, so I used my torch to light one of them. The smell of the burning oil was strong, but not powerful enough to eliminate the smells of mold, rot, and old death that filled the air. I was a bit concerned that the air would be too foul to breathe, but I continued on. The hall went ever downward, with several flights of stairs, so I soon lost sight of both the light of day and the light of the brazier I had lit, so I was dependent on my torch entirely. After a couple of hundred feet, I came to a place where the hall formed a "T" with one hall going left, and the other to the right. I had been told once by an adventuring Redguard that if I was in a maze or underground, I should always follow the right-hand wall, and if I did I would never be lost. With that in mind, I chose to go toward the the right, and soon the floor began to slope downward, and curved slightly to the left. After a time, I could hear the sound of dripping water, and the smell of wet mold became stronger. The structure itself seemed more damaged as I continued deeper in, and there were frequently places where stones from the walls or the ceiling lay where they had fallen, making for treacherous footing. At length I came to another and narrower, heavy wooden door. I could see that at one time there had been a lock on it, but it had been smashed, and lay broken. This made me smile, because I knew that would make it harder for anyone behind me to lock me in. I opened the door and stepped into a much narrower hall that ran some ten feet before opening into a fairly large room of some sort. It appeared to be about the same size as the one-room cottage, and I noted that the floor here was not covered with stone as was the rest. I entered the room, and moved out toward the middle, when I realized my steps were making crunching noises, and my feet sank into the earth farther in some places as I walked. Kneeling down, I realized with no small amount of discomfort that I was standing on the dead who rested here. They had been buried in a standing position, and the headstones had apparently been placed over their heads. Without the stones, the earth collapsed under my weight, literally dropping me into the bodies of the dead. I moved hastily back to the door, but in my haste I stepped harder than I realized, and my left foot sank into the body of a dead soldier who stood there. It passed beside his skull,collapsing the fragile clavicle and compressing the ribs as my boot at last came to a stop somewhere inside his abdomen. I couldn't restrain the slight shout of horror as I lurched upward trying to free my foot, only to have the upper half of the dead man rise out of the ground still entrapping my boot inside the rib cage. I dropped my torch to the ground, and with a short swing of my ax, broke the ribs that held my boot. I stood and with a mighty kick, flung the broken corpse from my foot, and off across the room. The sound of the bones breaking as they struck the wall was somehow reassuring. I grabbed up my torch, and then more carefully made my way back into the hallway, where I eventually stumbled back out into the light of day. It seemed to me that I had been in there for hours, but a surprised Alavesa told me I had been inside for only perhaps half an hour. My, how time passes when you're having fun, eh? I told Alavesa what I'd found, though I left out some details of my little adventure, and we tried our best to figure out how the stones should be placed inside Fort Avawne when we got them back to the crypt. Once we settled on the most likely method, I began taking the stones back in two or three at a time. Several times as I passed through that "T" in the hall, I thought I heard noises coming from the left hand hand fork, and I knew I would have to investigate at some point. The second day Alavesa changed the duty to a trip back to Leyawiin where she visited the church and spoke with the clerics about how to put the spirits to rest in the crypt. We arrived back at Fort Avawne in the early evening, and the next day I took the last of the stones down to the crypt and placed them. As I began my last trip down, Alavesa told me she was going to be gathering some ingredients and might not be back when I returned. She said she had gotten me a small bonus, and that when I returned, I would find it on the table in the cottage. I had no idea what it might be, but I made that last trip in record time, and stumbled wearily back into the cottage an hour or two before dark. Since nobody had been in there, the only light was from the fading sun, but I could see a couple of bottles were on the table. I thought that my fine employer had purchased me a libation of ale, but when I pulled the cork out of the bottle and drank it down, it tasted very strange, and not like ale at all. I had just lit the fire when Alavesa came into the room, and moved to stand beside me, sharing the growing light and warmth. I told her the job was finished, and suggested we spend the night in the cottage to see what results we had obtained, but she said no,that she needed to try to lay the spirits to rest first. I thought it a bit odd, but she then took me by the hand and led me from the cottage and into her tent where her bedroll was laid out. She'd never done anything like that before, and when we got there, she turned to me and with a dreamy expression told me she wanted to thank me for all of my help. With that, she pulled off her robe and, taking my hand, placed it on her breast. I could hardly contain my amazement at this, but my excitement was evident, and looking into my eyes, she stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed my lips while her other hand stroked my erect manhood with a loving touch. I stepped back, and stripped off my cuirass and tunic, and then took her in a close embrace as I lowered her to the bedroll. Her tongue was eagerly exploring my lips and I could tell my orcish tusks were and object of exotic arousal for her. I freed myself of my pants and rolled to my back, placing her naked body atop me, and I felt the hot warmth of her as I slid my shaft up between her legs. She reached down, and while biting my neck, spread her legs slightly and guided me into her. She rode me with her hips undulating in rhythm with my thrusts as I could see her excitement rising to heights that neither of us could long bear, at length she tautened with a final stretch of her body, then collapsed across my chest. I could feel the hot wetness flowing out of her, and across my loins, and I was almost immediately ready to begin anew. Alavesa just rolled off of me, and snuggled down into the bedroll, soon falling fast asleep... I pondered this development for a bit, then rose and went to build a campfire to keep unwanted animals away. I sat perplexed, and ate some bread and jerky before returning to her bedroll. It was a snug fit, but the bedroll held the two of us, and soon I joined her in sleep, only awaking with the dawn as usual. We had moved into a spooning position, and her warm, soft butt was not just exciting, but mildly intoxicating in my state of half-sleep. My left arm was over her waist, and I moved my hand up to her breast as I slipped the shaft of my desire between her legs. She moaned lightly as I massaged her breasts, and I buried my face in her hair while I kissing her neck and nibbled teasingly on her ear lobe. I slid deep inside her while the fold of her skin drew me in and squeezed my shaft tightly. I moved slowly to savor the feeling, drawing it in and out one inch at a time. With the morning, we did not have the maddened fervor of the previous night and so the love-making was hot and tender but done with deliberate sensuality. At length we were both satisfied, and our motions slowed to a halt. She rolled over, and looked into my face with sleepy eyes, and then she screamed... "You animal! What have you done, you damnable Orc? You drank my potion of seductive charm, and used my own potion against me. YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME USING MY OWN DAMNED POTION!" With that screamed pronouncement of my evil nature, she jumped from the bed and flung a boot at my head, delivering me a glancing blow that stunned me far less than the events up to this time. I managed a glib stutter that went something like "But... but... you said you brought me a bonus..." She responded with a scream of pure rage, "Yes, you filthy ANIMAL, I brought you a bottle of ale, not my body to use as you see fit! Damn you! Who in their right mind would give you a bonus like THAT?!?" She grabbed my other boot and flung it at me as she turned, reaching for my cuirass. I didn't mind the boot, but it occurred to me that I might not survive a bang on the head with that cuirass, so I fled from the tent grabbing my pants as I ran. In my haste I didn't see the old man until I ran full into him, and heard the breath leave his body with a whuff. We both went to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs, then he stared at me with an expression of incredulous amazement. "Many things have happened to me in my life, but this is the first time I've been tackled by a naked orc." My cuirass came flying from the tent followed by my ax and boots, accompanied by the sound of angry muttering. The old man watched me warily as I gathered my things and dressed by the coals of the fire. "So, who are you, and what are you doing here?" I asked with perhaps a slight lack of proper civility. At that moment Alavesa emerged from the tent with a glower, and the old Imperial informed us that he was Miles Pundus, a displaced priest. Once prior of Cadwell Chapel, he had been sent to us by the priests of the church in Leyawiin to help us with our ghostly problem. Alavesa introduced herself as the Lady of Avawne, and me as a filthy beast of burden in her employ for a very brief period of time. I had to wonder if this was an improvement in status over "filthy animal"... * The three of us spent the morning in talk, as we told him of our discoveries and the actions we had taken. He expressed his approval, and suggested that we three go inside to the crypt soon, and he would perform a rite that should restore the restless dead to peace. We agreed, and after a breakfast filled with a chill between Alavesa and myself, we ventured into Fort Avawne. As we arrived at the junction of the halls, Miles peered off to the left, saying "What was that? I thought I heard something..." and I told him we hadn't explored in that direction, but I also had heard sounds down that hall. We continued on to the Crypt while Miles lit some candles, made a small burnt offering of aromatic grasses, and prayed to the nine for the souls of those who rested here. When he was done, it seemed that the air warmed a touch, and a sigh of relief might have been heard. Whether from us or from the dead would have been hard to say. We went back to the cottage in silence, and lit a fire and candles so that Miles could conduct a second rite to cleanse the cottage of malevolent spirits that might remain. I noticed that there was a bottle of ale resting on the table near to the empty container I had drank last night. In the better light, I could see that the bottles were of different styles, but both were unlabeled. Alavesa watched as I studied them, and I could see that she was disturbed by the idea that I might have made an honest mistake. Late that night while we waited in the cottage to see if our ghost appeared, she drew me off to one side. "Khadba, I want you to know that what happened between us last night was a mistake... I can see how you grabbed the wrong bottle in dim light, but you must understand that our... experience... changes nothing between us. I was acting under the influence of a powerful potion, nothing more. I am your employer, and you are my hired blade,and that is how it must be if you wish to remain. I'm sorry, but the Lady of Avawne must NOT be known as one who has an Orc for a consort." For a moment I felt hot resentment at the implication that an Orc is just a beast, who cannot have a relationship with a true person, and definitely not with nobility, but then I let it pass. I could not change the way of the world with anger, nor rewrite the history of my race with resentment. It is as it is. I nodded my agreement, and moved back the table where I picked up the bottle of ale and downed it. I kept my distance from my companions, and spent the night in silence. When morning came, my companions were both asleep, so I hefted my ax and wandered about the perimeter of the Fort. It was a fair morning, with mottled blue sky, the sound of nearby birds, and a smell of flowers on the light breeze. It occurred to me that I had no idea how much longer I should stay in this place, if no further danger was offered. I went back to cottage resolute in my determination to explore the Fort and, once having removed any danger from within, move on to greener pastures. There didn't seem much reason to hang around here with the Avawne Lady who might fear a lack of discretion on my part. Miles and Alavesa were sitting at the table, and lapsed into an uncomfortable silence when I entered. That didn't help lighten my mood, but I ignored it as I joined them. "I'm going into the unexplored sections of the fort today. Once I've cleared it, I'll be on my way." Alavesa gave me an indecipherable look, and Miles looked momentarily discomfited. "What do you know of the history of the Fort, Khadba?" I suppose I gave him a blank look, as I really knew absolutely nothing about it, and said as much. He nodded, and continued. "I thought as much. I don't know any more than a few local legends, but you may find them interesting. The origins of the fort are lost in antiquity, but it apparently was abandoned and fell into ruin during the first century of the Third Era. After a failed invasion of Akaviri about the years 3E 285 to 3E 288, a small contingent of Imperial soldiers was sent here to partially restore the fort and man it as a rear area base for the rest and recuperation of those injured in battle during the invasion. On their arrival here, the Legion discovered that part of Fort Avawne was used by a powerful mage of evil leanings, and a battle ensued that resulted in the deaths of many of the troopers and their officers. At length the Council decided that the use of this particular fort was not worth the casualties, and the contingent was moved to Fort Blueblood. For nearly two hundred years, stories of ghosts and demons haunting the walls and areas of Fort Avawne have been told, and some say the sorcerer or mage is still here. Of course none have ever seen him and lived to tell of it..." He pulled a small flask of brandy from a pocket, took a swig and offered me one. "Be careful in there my son, I think this fort is the abode of a very deep and abiding evil." **End Part 1 |
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| neildarkstar | Oct 12 2016, 04:48 PM Post #2 |
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Overlord
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Re: Avawne by neildarkstar » Sun Mar 18, 2012 1:39 pm Part 2 Spoiler: click to toggle I left Alavesa and Miles in the cottage, and returned to the entrance to Fort Avawne. As I entered, I again smelled the dank tomb-like odor, and I wondered if this was really such a good idea. Still, I knew that it had to done before Alavesa's cottage could be secure, and since it was my job to make her safe there was no choice. I again lit a brazier and a torch, and moved down to the hall junction in the flickering light. This time I turned left, following the flickering light and shadows down the hall, taking my ax in my right hand at the ready. Even one-handed, a two-handed ax can be a formidable weapon if the wielder is strong enough. I was glad to be an orc at that moment. Oddly, the hallway was in better condition going this way than it was toward the crypt. I wondered if someone had tried to utilize this area after the Legion had given up and left. Here and there were stones that had obviously been piled after they had fallen, so some work had been done in any case. I'd gone perhaps thirty feet, then down a wet, moss covered flight of steps. The footing was treacherous, and I had to watch where I put my feet as well as scan the hall for more active dangers. As it turned out, this was a good thing, because I noticed some type of pressure plate just before I stepped on it. The pressure plate was well-placed, and partially concealed by moss so I nearly missed it. Checking closely, I discovered that stepping on the plate release large, spiked iron balls that were chained to the ceiling in such a way that they would likely kill anyone stepping on the trigger. I left the trap still set after marking the spot, you never know when an enemy's trap might be used against him. Moving on, the hall dried some, and I guessed that the water was drained off through cracks in the stone floor. Stone from the walls and ceiling were scattered here and there, and it appeared no effort had been spent on them this far in. As I considered that, I realized that the period of repair I saw earlier must have been very brief, which was not a good sign. The hall turned to the right, and descended a long flight of partially broken stairs that widened out into a large room at the bottom. Moving down that flight of stairs, I noted the smell of rats, death, and old corruption assailing my nostrils, and I was sure I wouldn't be alone when I entered that room. Rats, reptiles, and death each have their own distinctive odor, but in here it seemed that the general atmosphere was a combination of all three. I'd never smelled anything quite like it. As I left the stairs, I couldn't quite see the walls on either side, though I knew they weren't far beyond the reach of the torchlight. A few feet in front of me, there was a pile of some sort of rubbish on the floor, and from either side I could see red eyes glaring hungrily in my direction from near the floor. I knew the rats would attack me the first time they thought my back was turned, so I backed onto the steps and up a few before turning and running up several more. I was some eight feet above the landing when I turned again to face the rats that were now in hot pursuit, and a sideways sweep of my ax killed the front three rats at a single stroke. The backhand reverse took out two more, and I could see that perhaps seven or eight remained. The rats were large, about the size of a full-grown tom cat, and ferocious here in their own domain. I had thought the remainder would retreat, but they widened out and attacked me all at once, with two leaping high toward my upper thighs. I swung the torch down my lower body, just in front of my legs, knocking the leapers back to the steps as I killed two more with a swing of my ax. A stab of pain told me that the others had gotten through, one biting my left ankle, and another bit my right shin just below the knee. Swinging both torch and ax again, I knocked the closest ones free, killing another while I backed hastily up the steps. I could not imagine the humility of being an orc warrior killed by a few rats, and the desperation brought by the thought of it spurred me on. Dropping the torch directly in front of me, I grasped my ax with both hands and made rapid side-to-side swings that quickly ended the battle. A dead rat lay across my torch, and I kicked it down the steps as I grasped the torch again and raised it to examine my little battleground. The dead bodies of the rats littered the steps, but none moved as far as I could see. I cautiously moved back into the large room, and though I searched long, no red eyes stared back at me from the shadows. I relaxed a bit, and moved to the pile of rubbish, which I could now see was a corpse covered with the tattered remains of dark robes. It was hard to tell how long it had lain there, but I guessed it had been a very long time. The bones were well-chewed, and no trace of skin or flesh remained, but the cloth itself was rotten with age. There was a small leather pouch, which contained a couple of Septims and an unlabeled potion of some sort which I placed in my own bag. I moved around the room, and discovered what looked like a small camp. Several bedrolls were laid out on the floor, and some sacks of supplies were stored on one corner. There was no sign of any living occupants, and everything was covered with rat tracks and droppings in a thick layer of dust. There was a nice pair of shoes, a book, and some alchemical apparatus scattered about near the bedrolls, but nothing of real value presented itself. Nothing to tell me who these people had been. I sat on one of the bedrolls, and most of it disintegrated into dusty chunks of rag. Ignoring the urge to sneeze, I cleaned the wounds left by the rat bites, and coated them with some mandrake root paste I carried in my bag. On the right-hand wall there was another one of those heavy wooden doors, and since it was the only exit from the room, I opened it and stepped cautiously through. It let me into another hallway that continued for a few feet then turned to the left. I followed the hall through a few turns over the next hundred feet or so, then started down a flight of steps. Halfway down, I thought I heard something unusual so I stopped and listened carefully. I could hear the sound of many people moaning as if in pain, an accompanying chorus of growls, and something that sounded a bit like the crackle of high-pitched thunder. I laid my torch on the stone floor where I could grab it if I were in full retreat, and moved forward as softly as I could. As I neared the next landing of the steps, I could see that a dim glow was coming from a very large room in front of me. Moving quietly into the room as unobtrusively as possible, I saw that two rows of strange-looking coffins were arranged so that one would walk down a lane formed by the coffins to cross the room. I could see dim figures moving through a dim haze lit by a glow emanating from the coffins. The crackle came again, and I saw that a small bolt of bluish lightning flashed from a figure within one of the coffins up to a large glowing ball that floated in the air some thirty feet above the floor in the center of the room. As I moved closer, I could feel the hair of my head standing up at the whim of some strange force, and as another lightning bolt flickered it's way to the globe, the sensation grew much stronger, then faded as the bolt vanished. Now I could see that the moving figures were actually some sort of zombies, who moved among the coffins. I wanted to turn and run, but I couldn't leave without some idea of what was happening here, so I watched in morbid fascination as a zombie walked up and leaned over a coffin not too far from me. Clawed hands reached up and grabbed the zombie's arm, drawing it partially into the coffin. I could see a corpse-like visage of the occupant rise up and bite hunks of flesh from the zombie's body falling back into the coffin as the zombie screamed in fury. A bolt of lightning then flashed up from that horrid coffin dweller to the globe, blinding me momentarily. I shook the stars from my eyes,and my vision was restored just in time to see that zombie standing right in front of me, swinging with a two-handed overhead blow at my head. I rolled to the right side, swinging a wide slash at the zombie’s legs, and was rewarded with the severance of the zombie's left leg. It began to fall atop me, but I managed a backhand swing that took the zombie's right arm off at the shoulder, and knocked it backwards. I rose to my feet, discomfited to see that zombie's were approaching from all parts of the room. I thought there might have be twenty-five or thirty of them, but I was sure there were more than I could defeat in open combat. As I moved toward the steps, I was surprised to hear a dry, crackly voice from that nearest coffin. “Helllp meeee... Oh, Merciful Gods, help ussss.” The voice faded to a whispering hiss, but I couldn't do anything at all except run for my life. With a pounding heart, I reached the torch that lay on the floor, and as I bent to scoop it up, the clawed hand of a zombie flashed through the space where my head had just been. I almost laughed as I thought flashed through my mind. “By Malacath's Mighty Balls, these zombies are fast!” Spinning in a half-circle, I slashed with my ax and cut the lead zombie in half at the abdomen. As his fellows struggled to get past the twitching remains, I turned and ran again. Faster, this time. I ran through that wooden door, and turned slamming it shut while I looked for a way to block it. Really, there was nothing, but I noticed a crack between the stones on the floor a couple of feet in. Fortunately, the door opened into the room I was in, so I took the dagger from my belt and jammed it point first into the crack, and was pleased to see it sink in to the hilt. With the dagger wedged firm, I let the door open slowly until stopped by the dagger. Given the thickness of the door, there was an open space of about eighteen inches for the zombies to try to pass through. I laid the torch on the floor near the door, and started hacking at the arms and parts of zombies that came through that space as they tried to reach me. The position seemed ideal, and I could hack them to bits in relative safety. After a time, there were still zombie parts reaching toward me, but It seemed to be getting hot, and much lighter, which was odd. After a moment, I realized that the torch had set the door on fire. The door was so thick that it would still be long before the undead could pass through, but the time the door would remain intact was limited at this point. I decided to keep fighting, based on the notion that I should be able to run before the door collapsed when it finally gave way. Well, it almost worked. What I didn't count on was the door charring around the metal hinges, and then simply falling from them all at once as several zombies thrust into it in their haste to pass through. I had just completed a swing of my ax, when the door fell flat into the room carrying a cargo of about two and three fourths of a zombie. The zombies fell flat on the door, and their buddies behind them became tripped up by them as they rushed to get at me. Six zombies left, and a huge pile of limbs, torsos and other assorted zombie parts just the other side of the door frame. I leaped over the parts pile, then turned to face the zombies from inside the hall. I knew they would have difficulty coming at me or than two side-by side, and that they would be stumbling on the pieces of their former comrades. I split the first zombie to reach me from clavicle to crotch, and it fell away as I began a second slash to the next on in line. I slipped on something wet and grotesque, falling to one knee under that zombie as I severed his torso at the waist. That would have been good, but the third zombie hit me a backhand blow to the head that filled my vision with stars and little colored lights. Rebounding from the wall where the back of my head struck (adding yet more stars) I fell face-first into the gooey mess of parts that lay on the floor. I suppose that saved me, because the remaining zombies apparently lost track of my position, and while they were figuring it out, I went into a berserker rage and I killed them all... At least I suppose I did, because I don't remember it. In fact, a significant period of time passed before awareness returned, and I found myself stumbling into the cottage where Alavesa and Miles stared at me with a mixture of disgust, nausea, and horror. I then passed out on the dirt floor and knew no more. * A flickering yellow and red glow lit the corners of my vision, and I awoke with a start shouting aloud that the door was on fire, and wouldn't hold... As my mind cleared a bit, I realized that I was in the cottage in a soft bedroll by the fireplace. Alavesa appeared hovering over me with concern in her eyes. “Shhh... You've been ill, and you should rest for a bit yet. It's alright, you're safe in the manor, and Miles and I are vigilant.” That sounded good, and my eyes closed as I whirled away into the warm folds of darkness. When I next awoke, I felt rested and fit, and rose from the bedroll to search for my clothes and food... Oh, and drink. My throat was parched and dry, and my mouth tasted like troll crap. There was no sign of my clothes, but I found a pitcher of water and a half-bowl of cold stew. I stood naked by the fire eating and drinking like a pirate lord, and was in the midst of a huge contented belch when the door opened and in stepped Alavesa and a woman I didn't know in mage's robes. This last one stopped at the sight of me, and looking me up and down said “Ah, you must be Khadba Shadbu. From what I've heard, you seem to be in the habit of meeting people in the nude...” She smiled, and turned to step back outside. I laughed. “You may as well stay, there's not much left to hide.” Alavesa gave me a glare and threw a bundle of clothes at me and told me to get dressed before I shamed my ancestors further. I laughed and dressed in new clothes that fit surprisingly well. Black pants of a good weave, a nice shirt of light gray wool, and a soft tunic of black leather. The outfit was completed with a pair of knee-high calfskin boots. I was unaccustomed to such finery, and a bit more embarrassed after dressing than I was when I'd been standing there naked. I stammered for a bit, then said to Alavesa, “Looks like you've been busy since last night.” She chuckled and replied, “Last night? It's been four days since you stumbled in here and collapsed on the floor. Miles and I cleaned you up, and got you into a bedroll. You had several very nasty diseases, and even after I realized you probably wouldn't die, I thought you might lose that right foot. It's not a good idea to play with rats you know.” Miles interjected, “We burned your clothes because it was possible that the diseases would remain embedded along with the disgusting ooze that was in them. Alavesa is a very talented apothecist. You owe her your life, you know... Someone with less ability would have lost you.” Alavesa looked a bit embarrassed, but said “While you were feverish, you said a lot of things that didn't seem to make much sense, but we decided to get a more knowledgeable opinion of what you said. I went to Leyawiin and bought clothes and found Erissare here to come and speak with you.” Miles again spoke up, telling me that Alavesa had not left my side for two days solid. “I tried to get her to take some rest, but she'd have none of it. You're lucky to have a woman like her care for you...” A glare from Alavesa caused him to flush uncomfortably, and he stammered out, “I mean tend your needs... that is, your wounds... Oh, hell!” Erissare came to his rescue by asking me to tell her all that I'd seen and done, down to the tiniest detail. Alavesa gave me a bottle of ale she'd brought for me and I was nearly more overwhelmed with gratitude for that than for saving me from my illnesses. I nursed the ale slowly as I spoke of all that I had done in fort Avawne, and Erissare listened with rapt attention. When I spoke of the room with the floating ball and the coffins, she became very excited, and when I had done with the tale, she informed me that we would be going back down there together at my convenience... but very soon. I hadn't thought about it since I'd awoken recovered, but I suppose I would have to go. The job wasn't done, after all. We chatted through a pleasant supper, and though Alavesa doted on me a little, I felt fine. The next morning, I told Erissare that I was ready to go back in. This time was to be a little different though... Erissare informed me that she could indeed fight well, though her weapons were unlike mine, and Alavesa and Miles swore to follow us if we did not take them with us. Someone would need to hold the torches, so they could do that as well as other things that would help. I didn't like the idea very much, but at length I acquiesced. What good would it do to try to argue with a determined Lady and a displaced priest, eh? Might as well argue with a Daedric statue. It took a bit to get everyone ready, but at length we were ready to go back in. I went first, with Erissare just behind me and Alavesa and Miles side-by-side behind her. I wore my iron cuirass and carried my ax, while Erissare and Miles each had a staff. I was a little concerned that Alavesa carried no visible weapon, but she assured me she had her defenses. We found a dismembered zombie not far from the door, and it must have been the last of the group I had faced. The ladies were stone-faced at the sight, but I thought Miles looked a little green. When I told him that a touch of green looked good on a man, making him more orcish, I thought he was going to hit me. Eventually, we came to the room where I'd blocked the door, and Erissare, on examining the corpse in rags , exclaimed “Necromancers!” with a hiss. I went to where the remains of the door lay, and sadly examined the remains of my small dagger. The heat had destroyed its temper and it's finish was ruined completely. I decided to take it anyway, as a fond memory. I was going to carefully pick a way through the pile of partially cooked, dismembered zombies that lay in the doorway, but Erissare cast a spell that burned their remains to ash in a very short time. I led my little company down the hall, and then softly urged them to silence as we descended the steps into that dim glow. As we came to the last step, I was amazed to see that nothing had changed at all. There was no shortage of zombies moving here and there to feed the coffin-dwellers, and occasionally bolts of blue lightning would flash up to the floating ball. To all appearances, there might have been no battle and no zombies destroyed. The far side of this room was not visible, there was some sort of ghastly haze that fogged the more distant parts, and the evil blue-green glow providing light didn't allow for long-distance viewing. Alavesa got our attention with a quiet hiss, and then said “Bar's open, Khadba.” while handing potion bottles to Erissare and I. I drank mine down, and while I don't know what Erissare's did for her, I suddenly felt strong and agile enough to take on an army. I ran lightly down the lane to the first zombie, and clove him in two with a single overhand blow before he even knew I was there. I hardly slowed as I ran on to the next one, and split his skull and half of his spine. The third one had just drawn back his hand to swing at me, when I removed that arm, and then his legs with the follow-up backhand. By then two had almost reached me, and I manipulated the ax into a figure-eight swing that destroyed them both. I was feeling pretty good about that when I looked up and saw four approaching at once from about ten feet away. I destroyed one as I whirled about, and then raced back to my little squad to join formation with them. The three remaining zombies got within ten feet when Erissare lowered her staff and a brilliant gout of flame sprung form it to engulf them. Because of the coffins on each side, the zombies couldn't flank us, and were forced to assault us head on. A group of seven zombies were bearing down on us, when Miles lowered his staff and engulfed the zombies in a brilliant white light. The zombies just fell lifeless to the floor, as if they were marionettes and someone had cut the strings. We began moving forward, but most of the zombies had been destroyed, and we easily finished off the remaining stragglers. We went back to the first coffin where we had entered, and looked at the occupant inside. I think it had once been a man, but there was no way to be certain. It wore the tattered robes of a necromancer, and looked more like a ghoul than anything I’d ever seen. His skin was pale, nearly translucent, and stretched taut over his emaciated frame. There was no fat or excess on that frame, and his hair was white as snow, but looked somehow greasy. He had a full set of teeth, but they looked like they had been filed to points to facilitate the tearing of flesh from the zombies, and his eyes were colorless, appearing to be dark pupils in a white iris, on a dull yellowed eyeball. I thought it was perhaps more repulsive than the zombies, but I felt pity when he spoke. In a whispery voice like the hiss of a snake, he implored us. “Help us, please, please, release us.” I had no idea how to help him, but Erissare said “Kill them, in the name of kindness for pity’s sake.” With that she uttered a spell that seemed to drain the life from his body, and in a moment, he was dead. Erissare spoke, saying that the necromancers had no strength left, and very little life to take. She moved to the next coffin and spoke again. I moved to the other side, and taking my poor dagger out, used it to dispatch the occupant. Then I moved on to the next one. None of them screamed or fought, or seemed to show anything but gratitude. Some of them didn't even realize we were there, being lost in a world of their own. When we arrived at the far end, and the last of the coffin occupants were dead, we could see that there was a flight of red-carpeted stairs leading steeply upward, and we climbed them warily, but nothing appeared to endanger us. Arriving at the top, we looked about in amazement. We might have stepped into a luxurious apartment somewhere in the Imperial City. The floors were covered with rich rugs, and deep red carpets ran in all directions. The area was divided into three sections, with the area to the right of the landing looking like some kind of mage's workshop, with various symbols, drawn on a raised marble dais in the center, and alchemical apparatus arranged on long tables at the far wall. To the left of the landing was a living area, richly furnished with a magnificent bed, wardrobe, ornate desk and chair, and a dining set that would seat four. The table was set with gold plates, pitchers, bowls, and utensils, needing only food to create a lavish dining atmosphere. A dark fireplace was on the far left wall, and soft chairs sat near to it. Looking straight forward from the head of the stairs was a white marble throne, which looked like it had been taken from an Ayleid ruin... and it was occupied. On the throne sat the mummified corpse of a high elf, dressed in rich robes, holding an upright staff in his right hand, and an ornate crystal ball in his outstretched left hand. The skin and tone of his face and are hands could have been made of carved, polished wood, and might have been a statue made of some fabled wood had it not been for the pure realism that belied an artist's hand. Alavesa had wandered to the table that held the alchemical apparatus, and was marveling at their quality, while Erissare moved to the symbol-covered dais, and was entranced by a wand that lay in the center. Miles and I just stood there for a moment, before moving cautiously toward the mummy. As we got to within five feet or so, some sense of caution returned, and Miles and I stopped and stood looking carefully at the mummy, the throne, and everything around them. Eventually, we moved closer after a tense wait ended by a short chuckle on my part. “Imagine my shame if anyone knew that an armed and armored orc was rendered motionless by the sight of a dead Altmer.” Miles gave me another of those little green smiles, and centered his attention on the crystal ball, as I suddenly noted an ornate dagger down at the mummy's side on the throne. We moved forward again, with Miles arriving at the outstretched hand first. He looked into the ball, and I heard him whispering “How lovely, how beautiful it is. Look Khadba, it's as though he's offering it to me.” He reached forward and as he lifted the crystal ball from the dead hand of it's previous owner, Erissare screamed. “Don't touch that! Don't touch anything at all. This is the abode of a Grand Lich.” Miles stood there with the crystal ball in his hand and a look of pure terror on his face. We all froze in place, waiting for lightning to strike, or the legions of hell to rise up and attack, but... nothing at all happened. The moment passed, and I chuckled, “Well, that was tense.” Miles gave a nervous laugh of relief and was turning toward me when we heard the sound of a breath being drawn through clenched teeth. Long and loud that sound went on, and as I stared, the eyes of the mummy opened. Rich brown and flecked with gold, without pupil or Iris the eyes glowed with a golden light, and it was then that I realized the evil glow which lit this place actually emanated from the mummy... I guess I should say lich... A grimace that might have been a smile, stretched the mouth of the lich, and Miles screamed as a blast of pure force sprang from the lich and sent him flying back to the room of coffins. He had to have flown laterally fifty feet, and dropped another forty before hitting the floor, and I was fairly certain Miles was dead or dying. I had fallen back and toward Alavesa, and as I landed on my rump, I saw Erissare snatch up that wand and turn toward the lich aiming it at his heart as she used some word of power. The lich shrugged in an odd manner, and two Dremora lords appeared in front of me, and twin flashes of light told me that something had appeared down in the room of coffins with Miles. An evil green blast of fire sprang forth from the wand held by Erissare and blasted the lich's chest, engulfing him in it's evil flames. For a moment my heart leapt with the thought that we had won, and then the flames moved away form him, forming a ball swirling in the air in front of him. With a wave of his hand, he sent that green fire at Erissare, and her screaming drowned out all other sound. The lich spoke with a voice that echoed hollowly in our minds, but made no real sound. “I see you killed my pets, my means of magicka renewal. Now you will just have to take their place. You will spend a thousand years in those coffins, feeding on the undead I send you and providing me with the magicka you generate.” Alavesa threw a fragile bottle of some liquid that broke on the lich's chest, and burst into yellow-white streaking, spinning rays of sunlight, and the lich rose from his throne in the stance of a man in burning agony, then the light subsided, and the lich seemed once again untouched. I didn't know what Miles' fate had been, while Erissare still burned in writhing agony, and I had no thought now save for the safety of Alavesa. I got to my feet and shoved her roughly down the stairs, screaming “Run, damn you! Run down those stairs and out of this place, and never look back.” Then I turned and faced the lich with my ax. A Dremora lord ran after Alavesa as the other turned to attack me. I sent him back to Oblivion with a single stroke as I invoked the berserker rage of my kind, then I turned again to the lich. Again his voice was in my mind, as he laughed. “What do you think, Orc? Do you believe that you can beat me with ax and brawn and the magic resistance of your race? You are a fool, and you will die a fool when I'm done with your beast body.“ As I raised my ax over my head I yelled ”Here's proof of something I've always believed. Alive or dead, magic-users talk too damned much.” With that I threw the ax instead of swinging it as he expected, taking it blade first in the face. His head might have been hard as wood, but no oak could have taken that blow and emerged unscathed. He screamed, a whispery croaking noise, more apt to a toad than a man, and grabbed the handle of the ax seeking to pry it loose. I leapt forward and delivered a flying kick to handle of the ax just below the blade, and drove it in even deeper. His blood looked like some sort of reptilian ichor, and flowed blackly down his face soaking the rich robes. I dropped to floor a natural result of the flying kick, and rolled to my feet looking for a weapon. Seeing nothing, I moved forward delivering a side kick to the lich's left knee, hoping to break it, but no such luck. The lich cast some sort of spell, and the ax flew from his body out onto the stairs, and turned to face me, I thought perhaps he was blind, or partially so because his eyes were covered with his blood, but he came toward me unerringly. If that wasn't enough bad news, I heard the sound of something incredibly heavy moving up the stairs from the room below. Incredibly, Erissare at that moment flung herself into the arms of the lich, holding him tightly in an embrace that lover's would envy. The flames that covered her now enveloped them both, and I could occasionally see the lich's grimace of pain. I threw myself at the throne where I had seen the dagger, quickly grabbing it up. I noted a vase sat at the back of the throne where it had been hidden by the lich's body, but I had no idea what that might mean. I leaped to Erissare's aid, plunging the dagger into the lich's side with as much force as I could muster. It sank in easily, but seemed to have little or no effect on the lich. As I pulled the dagger free, I saw what had climbed the stair to join its master. A storm demon, or atronach had been summoned, and was about to strike Erissare from behind. I moved forward with my little dagger just as the demon unleashed a bolt of lightning, a huge bolt that struck all of us at once. I know I would have died had I not enjoyed the magic resistance of my race, and I was sorely wounded in any case. I saw Erissare slump to the floor like a rag doll, with the flames now extinguished, and the lich himself was staggered by that blast. I used the last of my strength to dive at the atronach, stabbing his stoney heart with the dagger, and watching incredulously as he fell dying to the floor. Turning back to the lich, I saw fear in his eyes for the very first time. I knew he had taken grievous wounds, as had we all. I could only hope that he was near death, so I used the dagger against him as if giving grace. I slashed his throat, then stabbed upwards from under the jaw and back into the brain. I thought perhaps that even a lich might need to be able to speak to utter a spell, and pinned all of my hopes on that. He slammed the butt of the staff he had held all this time to the floor, and I could see that the staff began healing and renewing the lich. I jumped up and slashed the lich's wrist with the dagger, tearing the staff free with the last of my strength. The lich screamed silently again, falling to the floor beside me where he lay until he died the final death. I laid there for what seemed a long time, but I began feeling better. I realized that I was sitting on the staff, and I managed to gain my feet and pick it up. Noting that it appeared to be cut from a still living branch, with little green leaves growing out of it here and there. Fascinating. I went to where Erissare lay, and confirmed my suspicions that she had not survived the battle. I turned and slowly started down the stairs. I was unsure of the fate of either Alavesa or Miles, and I feared for them both. This part I learned later. Alavesa had fallen more than walked down the stair after I pushed her and told her to run. She knew we had little or no chance against a Grand Lich, and so she was uncertain of her best course. She had no fighting skills, and no truly offensive weapons, but she thought maybe she could get help somehow. At the bottom of the stairs, she saw that two storm atronachs had been summoned by the lich, and she knew she was in deep trouble. She had a potion she had never tired before, used to summon a daedroth, and she used it now then used a high-quality potion of insulation. When the Daedroth attacked the storm atronachs, they responded with their spells, but she took only mild damage from the first blast. The daedroth managed to badly injure one atronach before being killed, and while the atronachs were distracted, she found Miles. He was gravely injured, and unconscious, so she poured a potion of healing down his throat, and dragged him out of sight. As she started up the stairs to head out of Fort Avawne, the remaining atronach blasted her with a bolt of lightning. This time, she barely survived, being unable to even stand as she tried to crawl up the steps. The Atronach moved forward to finish her off, but but Miles had recovered enough to be conscious and aware. He used his staff to cast a destructive spell at the atronach, while moving behind one of the stone coffins hoping to confuse the demon. It worked to some extent, and the atronach focused his attention to an area a little removed from Miles, but Alavesa had time to get up the steps and out of sight. As the atronach prepared another blast, Miles summoned a wraith to combat it, and then crawled into one of the coffins, sharing space with the dead occupant. The battle was short, and the wraith was quickly beaten, but at the end the atronach had no target in sight. He knew his master battled at the top of the stairs, so he went to the aid of he who had summoned him. Alavesa crawled out of the fort, and toward the little cottage where her potions would perhaps save the day. Her plan was to get some specialty items and return to the party battling the lich underground. She could only hope she would not be too late. It seems that Vertiu Oranius the Legion Forester and Philip Frank, a Breton hunter from Blankenmarch, had decided to call on Alavesa for a potion or two. As she crawled out into the late afternoon sun, Vertiu saw her out to Philip “ Look, I think that's Lady Avawne crawling!” They ran to her aid, and she quickly told them what had happened. Philip elected to go to the Legion and get help, while Vertiu aided Lady Avawne. She hurriedly gathered her potions, and they entered Fort Avawne together. As I said, I learned all that later, and as I stumbled down the stairs to the room of coffins, I sought Miles, but could see no trace of him. Still weak, and damaged, I couldn't really search, so I passed down that lane of coffins calling out for Miles and Alavesa every few feet. I came across my ruined ax, and what I thought was Miles, but it turned out to be a dead Dremora Lord. I left the ax where it lay. I wouldn't use it again because I was wary of evil it may have absorbed. I was about to give up hope for Miles when I heard a voice from a coffin, “Khadba, is that you?” I went to the coffin, and poked the corpse a time or two, and was a bit taken aback when Miles crawled out from beneath it. I helped him out of the coffin, and together we started back up the steps and out of fort Avawne. We hadn't gone far when we met Alavesa and Vertiu Oranius and had a tearful reunion... No dammit, I wasn't crying, it was Alavesa. By the Balls of Malacath, I don't know about some of you people! The idea of an orc crying almost brings tears to my eyes... We left the fort, and went back to our little manor with the dirt floor, and while we were saddened by the loss of Erissare we were happy to be alive and to have the battle for the fort done and over. That night Alavesa came to my bedroll, and gave me an odd-tasting potion without explanation, and I thought it probably had something to do with my wounds, but then she began taking off her robe. I could only stare in amazement as she pulled back the cover and began brushing my body with her hair in long soft strokes. She then started kissing and licking my belly, moving down slowly to lick my engorged shaft. After a moment I moved and looked around carefully. Alavesa slid her lips away with a flicker of her tongue, asking “What are you doing?” I chuckled and replied “Making sure my cuirass is out of reach for use as a throwing stone." She laughed and we made love slowly, and with no small amount of pain. Whenever I hear tales of great heroes who slay huge beasts in battle and then make love like a 16-year old pup, I respect their love-making capacity far more than just their ability to slay a beast... The next day, Vertiu brought the body of Erissare out from Fort Avawne and a Legionnaire took it to Leyawiin for burial. We placed the body of the lich in one of his own coffins and sealed it shut. Permanently, we hope. There were only a few things of value in there, but we sold the wand to the Mage's Guild, Miles got the staff, Alavesa got the alchemical tools, and I got the little dagger to replace my old one. If only it were an ax... Did I mention that I became Lord Avawne a year later, right after our wedding? My Lady's mother was scandalized, and refuses to appear with us when we go to the Imperial court as guests. I'm not certain if she's more upset because I'm an orc, or because we still live in our little manor with a dirt floor... In cold weather, Alavesa uses ingredients we gathered in summer to make her potions, powders, and creams, and in good weather seasons, we travel from city to city, selling them to whoever shows interest and has a few coins. Life is good... |
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| Areial | Oct 12 2016, 05:29 PM Post #3 |
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Et'Ada
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Very nice!! I love it... hope to read of their continuing adventures!! Edit... <grin> I read the wrong post first!! it's a great story on it's own...and would make a wonderful series! Edited by Areial, Oct 12 2016, 05:30 PM.
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| Andra Hawksdaughter | Oct 12 2016, 06:51 PM Post #4 |
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Jarl
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Ha! You've proven me right, hehe. neil, that was a wonderful tale, and I enjoyed it immensely!! Thank you for the trip back to Oblivion also. I told Sere once, I wish we could put together a book, an anthology, of TES tales. It would be great!! |
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| Serethil | Oct 12 2016, 07:28 PM Post #5 |
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Et'Ada
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Wow. Just WOW, neil! Extremely well told, what a GREAT story! Gosh, I want more of them.... LOVED the bit about Alavesa's mother. And the battles were so real.... |
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| Andra Hawksdaughter | Oct 12 2016, 07:43 PM Post #6 |
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Jarl
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I agree. I think someone missed their calling... |
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| Grits | Oct 12 2016, 10:34 PM Post #7 |
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Thane
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Loved it, neil! :) |
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| neildarkstar | Oct 13 2016, 11:38 AM Post #8 |
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Overlord
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Thanks everybody, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I have to confess, it's one of my favorites among my stuff... :) |
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