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R.I.P. neildarkstar. Haven will miss you dearly.
| The Call of the Wind | |
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| Topic Started: Mar 5 2018, 12:43 PM (578 Views) | |
| Kane | Mar 5 2018, 12:43 PM Post #1 |
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Overlord
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Prologue The morning dew lay gleaming on the lush, green undergrowth of Cyrodiil’s Great Forest as the morning sun shined through the branches of its lofty trees. Deep in the heart of the woodlands, sat a small clearing and at its center lie a large rock, covered in silky green moss. Here upon this stone, sat an impressively large brown hawk - it looked far out of place among the other birds of the province, but it was not without purpose. Sitting as still as the unmoving stone beneath it, a wanderer could have mistaken it for a small statue to some long forgotten god. Nestling its head into her wing feathers, she waited impassively for her prey. Soon thereafter, a crashing could be heard in the forests nearby. Quite suddenly, a pale, sickly looking Colovian emerged from the dense brush and scampered right through the clearing without so much as a glance at the large hawk. Craning her neck, she listened for the pursuer she was expecting. And sure enough, the gentle footsteps of a practiced stalker could be heard approaching the clearing, following the rampant destruction of the woodland left in the wake of the panicked, clumsy runner. The hawk lifted her head and waited for this new, but nonetheless expected visitor. Ah, I see this predator is much too clever to wander into a forest clearing. The professional that he is knows to avoid such a thing, as it is ripe for ambush. Perhaps a little encouragement is needed… ------------------------- The mercenary did not like what he saw ahead. Peering through the bramble, he intensely surveyed the clearing, looking for any sign of an ambush. The vampire he pursued had thus far been crashing through the forest like an ogre, but that may have been a ruse. Vampires, he had always thought, were usually much cleverer than this oaf was. Hesitating outside the clearing was wasting time, but his instincts were kicked into overdrive as he approached it. Long ago he learned to trust those instincts, and many times they had been the difference between life and death. So there he sat, eyes darting around the forest opening, searching intently for signs of danger. Quite suddenly, the once calm morning changed as a brisk northern wind began to flow through the woods, rustling the treetops and bringing a slight chill to the air. Our mercenary barely noticed the change in clime, until he heard the whispers on the wind. Startled, he relaxed his eyes, and instead strained his ears to the wind, where he swore a voice had whispered to him. The breeze fluttered once more, and this time he was positive…his name was carried gently on the wind. Kirin...approach my child. Follow your instincts…and my voice… Standing up nervously, he shouldered his composite bow, and walked boldly into the clearing. To his utter surprise, the hawk he’d mistaken for a statue hewn above the boulder stretched its impressive wings, and spoke to him with an undoubtedly feminine voice. “It is time for you to return home, my child. Skyrim awaits you, and your destiny has come. Left behind will be your days of mercenary work and feeble pleasures. They matter not now, and only what you accomplish next will be of any consequence.” This was unexpected, and temporarily froze Kirin, as a million thoughts raced through his mind. He settled on only one, though. “And if I refuse?” “It will matter not. The aspect of destiny is inescapable, and utterly final. Try as you might, it will simply catch up to you later, at a time when you may have less choice in its subtleties. Heed my words, and I promise you will not regret the choice to follow them.” Kirin pondered on her words once more, and quickly realized what he was dealing with. One should not refuse the finality of the divines… He removed his helmet, and knelt on the grass before the large northern hawk. “Lady Kyne, I see the wisdom in your words, and I pledge myself and my service to you.” “Very well, young Kirin. Your time in Cyrodiil is at an end. Return to your fellow brothers and sisters of Skyrim, and your true journey shall begin in earnest.” She then spread her wings once more, and took to the skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards. |
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| Serethil | Mar 5 2018, 05:55 PM Post #2 |
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Et'Ada
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Oh, VERY interesting start! Love it, Kane! |
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| neildarkstar | Mar 5 2018, 08:24 PM Post #3 |
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Overlord
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Very nicely told! |
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| Kane | Mar 7 2018, 09:11 AM Post #4 |
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Overlord
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Thanks folks! I plan on writing the next bit today at some point. Unless work butts in, of course. |
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| Kane | Mar 7 2018, 12:57 PM Post #5 |
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Overlord
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Fire and Darkness Many years had come and gone since Kirin took the bitterly cold Pale Pass up into the Jerall Mountains, and down into Bruma. The weather hadn’t changed, but he was shocked to find Helgen a smoldering ruin. Memories of enjoying many mugs of Juniper Mead and getting into several bar brawls flooded in as he watched the smoke rise high above the walls. As he approached the northern gate, and immense black being took flight from somewhere in the city and flew east, paying little attention to the Nord standing out in the open. Mouth agape, Kirin could only think of one thing…that ancient dragon lore didn’t seem much like fairy tales anymore. Eyes closed, he raised his head to the heavens and addressed his new patron. “Lady Kyne, I see that much more than I expected is afoot in my home land. I only hope that I can rise to whatever occasion is laid out for me.” A gentle breeze of encouragement fluttered through the area, rustling the leaves around Kirin, and uplifting his spirits. A fitting reminded that Kyne was ever watching over him. -------------------------- Sometime later, Kirin knelt beside the ruined body in the midst of Helgen. A small journal had survived the destruction, and the owner had managed to write down a last few words before being consumed in fire. It told of a cave beneath the Keep, and the possibility of survivors. Standing up quickly, Kirin hastened out of town, looking for an entrance to this cave. With the Keep to his right, he scoured the undercliff for any kind of ingress point. Only a few minutes had passed before he found what he was searching for, as Kirin came across a tunnel leading into the rock face. He ventured forth, soon coming across a large cavern with a small stream babbling gently through it. A ray of light shone down through the rock ceiling, landing right on the injured body of an Imperial soldier. His armor denoted a man of some rank, and he looked to be in bad shape. Just before heading to see if he could help, Kirin spotted another man further in the cave. This time…an injured Stormcloak. This presented a hard choice for Kirin, but not as hard as one would expect. He’d kept up on news from his homeland while earned a living in Cyrodiil, and knew all about Ulfric’s insurrection. Many days were spent pondering the subject, but in the end, Kirin knew where he stood. He just didn’t expect a need to make that choice so soon upon his arrival. Grabbing a healing potion from his pack, he went to help the Imperial soldier to his feet. -------------------------- Hadvar was a good man, and Kirin felt a sense of kinship with the stout Imperial. The young officer had a good head on his shoulders, and in another life, they may have been good friends. But for now, Kyne had another purpose for Kirin, even if he didn’t yet know what it was. In the meantime, Kirin set about to do what he did best. Help others to the best of his ability – but no longer as a mercenary. He had pledged to leave that part of his life behind, but his instincts still drove him onward, to some unknown end. The town of Whiterun was a few hours walk to the north, and Alvor had asked Kirin to take word of Helgen to the Jarl, as soon as possible. Kirin agreed, but something deep inside told him to help out the local shopkeeper first. Thieves had broken in overnight and stolen a rare trinket - some sort of gilded dragon claw. The proprietors, Lucan and Camilla, even knew where the bandits had came from and that helped to eliminate a lot of legwork. Deciding to help them, Kirin followed Camilla out of town, to a small bridge over the roaring White River. And so it was, that he ended up standing outside the large iron doors to Bleak Falls Barrow, sword in hand. |
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| Serethil | Mar 7 2018, 02:45 PM Post #6 |
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Et'Ada
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Lovin' it Kane! It's great to hear things told from someone else's gameplay RP perspective! |
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| Areial | Mar 7 2018, 03:24 PM Post #7 |
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Et'Ada
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:clap: Nice...great read! |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 10:21 AM Post #8 |
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Overlord
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Thanks! |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 10:22 AM Post #9 |
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Overlord
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The Wheel Turns Fighting his way through the ancient Nordic tomb was no easy matter, but Kirin handled it professionally. He had plenty of experience with the undead whilst exploring the extensive ruins of the lost Ayleids in Cyrodiil. Surviving a barrow in Skyrim was more about avoiding the various traps, and less about the numerous Draugr that walked the halls of the ancient fanes. The only real challenge was the Overlord at the end of the winding mass of corridors – and that was only because Kirin was caught off guard. The moment he crested the stairs, and stepped onto the raise dais a slight breeze blew through the immense cavern, as the sound of chanting and the whispers of some long forgotten language began to flow towards him from the half-moon wall. It grew louder as he approached, drawing him in almost completely unconsciously. Kirin reached out to touch the glowing marks, but before he could lay his hand on them, his vision darkened and a burst of knowledge flooded from the wall, right into his mind. The sudden inrush of power, brought him to his knees but faded quickly. As quickly as it had come, it was now gone, and only whispers of what he learned could he remember. Raising back to his feet, he slowly turned his attention back to Nirn, or more specifically, the large wooden chest that stood nearby him in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow. Kirin walked towards it, but stopped in surprise when a sharp crack echoed through the cave. The lid had burst off of the carved stone coffin that lay nearby, and a rather large Draugr stood to face him. The Nord was not ready for what came next, as the ancient undead turned his gaze towards Kirin and uttered three short words, that nearly blew him off his feet. The hide shield he carried disintegrated under the force of power that rushed at him, as the echoing of thunder reverberated throughout the cavern. Kirin was unprepared for what had hit him, but not inexperienced. He quickly noted the dark potion vial on the nearby embalming table, and recognized it as some kind of poison. Moving faster than the Draugr probably expected of him, Kirin deftly stepped towards the table, smashing the flat side of his blade on the vial, lathering it with the deadly concoction. It only took a single parry and several quick slashes of steel, before the Overlord fell back into his long, dark sleep. -------------------- After the long adventure in the barrow, making the short journey back to Riverwood and Lucan was a sweet roll walk. The shopkeeper rewarded Kirin handsomely and welcomed the young Nord to his shop anytime he liked. Kirin bartered with Lucan for food and supplies, before striking back out on the road. He had to figure out what to do with the hefty stone tablet he found in Bleak Falls, but nary a soul in Riverwood had any clue to what it was. The damned thing was heavy, and Kirin was going to leave it behind after he plucked it from the chest to examine it. But just as he began to set it back down, the same gentle breeze that ushered him towards the mysterious wall blew by him once again. ‘As you wish, Lady Kyne.’ And so there he was, lugging it towards Whiterun. Kirin reasoned that since he was already going there to warn the Jarl, he may as well stop in to see the court wizard. The wizards were usually well trained at their College in history and the oddities it contained – maybe this one would recognize the intricately carved stone. -------------------- A few hours later, Kirin stood before the leader of Whiterun hold – Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, and his court. After informing them of the dragon issue at Helgen, Kirin stood back while they debated on what to do. He detested politics, and would have left right then and there had he not gotten a stern glance from the Jarl’s housecarl, Irileth. The Dunmer had a fiery look about her, and did not look like someone to disregard. A few moments later, Balgruuf addressed Kirin again. "Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. The Jarl then rose from his seat, and handed Kirin a reward for his effort. A steel battleaxe with a nice enchantment on it. Kirin bowed short, and accepted the offer gratefully, even though it didn’t fit his preferred method of combat. "There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps,” continued Balgruuf. “Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and...rumors of dragons." That suited Kirin perfectly, as he needed to speak to the wizard anyway. To his delight, Farengar’s job offer had been to retrieve exactly what Kirin was coming to see him about! The wizard was pleased, and had just begun to dismiss him when Irileth rushed into the chamber. “Farengar! You need to come at once! A dragon has been sighted nearby! She then turned to look at Kirin, “You should come, too.” |
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| neildarkstar | Mar 13 2018, 10:43 AM Post #10 |
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Overlord
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Nicely told, Kane! Exciting, eh? :) |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 11:18 AM Post #11 |
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Overlord
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Thanks neil! |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 11:19 AM Post #12 |
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Overlord
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Destiny Rising The sun was beginning to set as Kirin, Irileth, and a detachment of guards jogged passed the Whiterun stables, turning onto the western road. Off in the distance, the Western Watchtower stood alone on the tundra, plumes of smoke rising from within and all around it. A sense of foreboding fell upon the small force, as they upped the pace towards the keep. Just down the road from Whiterun, they passed a large house that appeared to be devoid of life. Kirin made a mental note to investigate it on the way back to town. ‘That is…if I survive whatever lies ahead.’ The crew stopped a small distance away from the ruined tower to survey the scene. There were still a few guards left around the keep, but it was badly damaged in the attack. Standing back up, they made their way towards the tower, and were soon spotted by a guard standing near the doorway. He began to yell about the dragon still being nearby, but was cut short by a distant roar. “Shor’s bones – here it comes again!” What followed next was the single most harrowing experience of Kirin’s life. Alongside Irileth and handful of guards, they battled with the winged menace for nearly an hour. Arrows cut through the air and weapons clashed, as they whittled away at the stout hide of the immense beast. Finally the dragon landed, allowing them to rush it with sword, axe, and hammer – all swinging endlessly at its thick scales. The defenders were quickly losing stamina, and after what seemed like forever, the dragon finally let out a dying roar, as Kirin’s blade pierced it’s underside with a killing blow. They all backed up hurriedly, trying to avoid its death throes, when, to their wonder, the great beast became engulfed in flame. Kirin stood front and center, sword drawn in anticipation for whatever may come next. But he was not ready for the life force that came rushing out of the dragon, and absorbed itself directly into his own. The feeling was euphoric, as the knowledge and power of the dragon, Mirmulnir, flowed through Kirin’s mind and blood. Suddenly, the ancient power that he learned in Bleak Falls Barrow made complete sense, and he lifted his head to the sky and shouted a single word that echoed across the vast tundra, followed by a crack of thunder. -------------------------- The guards had been suitably impressed by Kirin’s powerful shout, but Irileth less so. She was a touch read, but Kirin didn’t mind it – she was a good ally to have. Masser and Secunda had long since risen and shined brightly down upon him as he slowly headed back east to Whiterun. The empty house would have to wait for later…he had much to tell Balgruuf and more than anything else, Kirin just wanted to sleep. And maybe have a stout mead beforehand. But he had survived his first dragon encounter, and that was all that mattered to him. The moment it was all over, he quickly thanked Kyne – before the guards started to awkwardly stare. What he didn’t expect, though, was for the elation of power to wear off so quickly… The rush of energy culminating in his Shout wore off fast, leaving Kirin to ponder whether or not his newfound ability was a good thing. It had its advantages, but he was also aware that his soul was no longer just his own. The life of knowledge and experience he absorbed from Mirmulnir also came with sorrow and fear. The dragon never expected to be killed, and his waning moments were filled with dread. Kirin wouldl never forget that feeling, but his thoughts were cut short when a thunderous sound raced across Skyrim, and shook the very ground beneath his feet. “DO-VAH-KIIN.” -------------------------- Dragonborn. That is what Kirin came to be known as in the peaceful town of Whiterun. As far as the people of the city were concerned, it fit nicely with his new title of Thane. The Bannered Mare was raucous that night, as everyone in town drank and cheered and sung about the Battle of the Western Watch and the coming of The Dragonborn. Eventually Kirin managed to slip away with a mug of mead, and headed up to his loft room for well-deserved slumber. Not even the continuous clamor of the party below was enough to keep him awake, and he fell asleep quickly, while his new friend Lydia nodding off in the chair nearby. |
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| Areial | Mar 13 2018, 11:38 AM Post #13 |
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Et'Ada
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Very nice read!! Love his perspective! |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 02:16 PM Post #14 |
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Overlord
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Thanks are! |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 02:18 PM Post #15 |
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Overlord
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A Gift from the Goddess The Bannered Mare was quiet and still when Kirin awoke the next morning. Lydia was gone from her chair, and he could hear voices drifting up to the loft, alongside a sweet smell of berry and spice from whatever meal Hulda was concocting. Rising from the bed, he gathered his gear and walked downstairs into the main hall of the inn. Various partiers from the night before hadn’t made it home, and were still passed out on whatever soft bed they could find – be it a pile of hay or a fur rug. Lydia was seated at a table near the bar, conversing with Hulda, the proprietor. As he slid into one of the other empty chairs they gave him a polite nod and continued talking while he dug into a berry crostata. “I’m surprised you let these drunks loaf around here overnight, Hulda.” “Oh, well, I normally wouldn’t, but it was a special occasion I suppose.” She glanced over at Kirin, “It’s not every day we have a hero in our midst, after all.” Kirin swallowed a bite of crostata before replying, “I only do as Kyne guides me, Hulda. We all have her to thank for my return to Skyrim, so if you would thank someone, I would do so at the temple. My days of seeking glory are over.” “Be that as it may, you still have found what you don’t desire. You should at least embrace it for the people – in these trying times, they need someone to look up to.” One of the drunks began to stir in the corner and she rose to rouse him and usher the braggart out. He grumbled something about a headache as he pushed open the front door, and nearly fell over again when the bright morning sun beamed down on him. Chuckling, Kirin turned back to his breakfast. ------------------------------------ A half hour later, he leaned back in his chair with his cup of herbal tea and began to contemplate on where his journey was taking him next. Ivarstead was a long walk, and High Hrothgar even longer. In his youth, Kirin had made the pilgrimage at the behest of his ailing father. Kroval was a deeply spiritual man, and wanted them to make the journey together when Kirin was of the right age. It was not a pilgrimage for the weak or weary, and many dangers lie upon the Seven Thousand steps of The Throat of the World. Lost in thoughts of his childhood and family, he barely heard Lydia address him. “So, you’re a follower of our Lady Kyne, Thane?” she asked, candidly. “Kirin, Lydia. And yes, but it goes a little further than that. We talk about that later, though…for now I have only one question – what is going on with that empty house on the western road?” “Oh, you mean Elysium Estate? Not much is known about it. It’s believed that the original owner as a patron of Kyne, much like yourself. The place is decorated with banners and tapestries adorned with her crest.” This piqued Kirin’s interest immensely. “Oh?” “Mhmm. No one has lived there in some time, though. Those that visit return emptyhanded, and sometimes a bit…different.” “Different? In what way?” asked Kirin. “Well, a few are touched in some way by Kyne…other refuse to talk about what they find. There is an air of mystery around the entire matter, so if you intend to go there yourself it’s my duty to advise against it.” “Come now, Lydia – enough with talk of ‘duty’. You may have been assigned my housecarl, but you’ll learn quickly that I am not one for rigorous tradition.” Lydia shrugged and got up from her chair. “I need to stop at Belethor’s before we leave. Do you need anything?” “No. I’m a little overstocked as it is, and I will need somewhere to place it all before long. I’ll be waiting by the main gate.” ------------------------------------ The sun was approaching its midday stride when Kirin and Lydia met back up at Whiterun’s main gate. Kirin looked over his supplies once more to make sure nothing was missing, and then together they headed out through the gate and down the winding path towards the stables. At the road’s junction, Kirin turned west once again, heading for Elysium Estate. “I take it your curiosity has gotten the best of you, my Thane?” Kirin sighed. “Some habits are hard to break I suppose. But, yes, it has. It’s more than that, though…I believe that I am supposed to go there. My instincts have never steered me wrong, and that was before I had a goddess nudging them.” “What do you mean by that?” Kirin winked at her. “We’ll get to that later.” ------------------------------------ Soon after, they were walking down the path towards the wooden gate of Elysium. The place definitely did seem empty, but that’s what intrigued Kirin the most. Pushing through the gate, he looked around the yard and to his amazement, a ghost appeared off to his right, near the drinking well. Before Kirin could decide what to do, the ethereal specter walked towards them, speaking in an otherworldly tone. She spoke of past owners and the Lady Kyne, who had domain over the estate. The ghost was once a caretaker for Elysium, and even after death had been tasked with keeping it up, until the right owner came to claim it. She instructed Kirin to go around the western side of the house, to pray at Kynareth’s shrine. “If you are worthy, she will speak to you.” And so around the other side of the house, Kirin and Lydia went. As they walked, Kirin gave her a reassuring touch on her shoulder. He could tell she was a little rattled, and that she was not ready for that particular outcome to the mystery of the estate. They found the shrine under a small porch roof across from the stable. Kirin knelt before the shrine to prey, but had barely begun when Kyne’s voice rang in his head. “You’ve done well so far, my child. You’ve proved yourself against the dragons, and learned about yourself – all while honoring me faithfully. But your true path has only begun to unravel. High Hrothgar awaits you, but before you depart for the lofty summit, speak to my priestess Danica in Whiterun. She has a task for you.” “I will do as you wish, Lady Kyne. But I also have many questions for you.” ”And I will answer them in time. Do not fret, Kirin – we will speak again soon. In the meantime, enjoy this house as your own. You are my champion now, and it will suit your needs amicably.” Kirin bowed his head in respect one last time, rose to meet Lydia. She had been watching him nervously while he communed with Kyne, and was pleased to see that he was well. “Come, Lydia – we need to find The Caretaker once more….and get the key to my house. |
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| Kane | Mar 13 2018, 03:38 PM Post #16 |
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Overlord
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The Road Less Traveled Lydia waited impatiently in the dining hall of Elysium Estate, while Kirin unpacked his belongings and accustomed himself to the various amenities it offered. A couple hours later, he returned to the main hall, and poured himself a mead before joining her at the table. “Go ahead and ask away, Lydia. Before you boil over!” Kirin chuckled. “When were you going to tell me just how entwined you are with Kyne? Following her as a patron is one thing, but actively communing with A GODDESS is something else entirely, Kirin.” “First of all, thank you for not calling me Thane,” said Kirin. At that remark, Lydia shot him a look of daggers. “Second – and this is important – I had to know I could trust you. I would attract all sorts of attention, wanted or not if I paraded around as her champion.” “Champion! You’re not serious – are you?” “Aye. That I am.” Kirin nodded, and then began to tell her of his encounter with the hawk in The Great Forest, and everything that led up to this point. By the time he reached the end, Lydia was suitably astonished. “My word, Kirin – do you realize how bless you are? The Divines speaking to worthy people at their shrines is one thing, but to actually speak to an avatar of Kyne? I’d be surprised if such a thing has ever happened before.” “I know, Lydia,” replied Kirin. “Which is why it’s something I do not share around. Now get yourself settled in for the rest of the day. Tomorrow we head back to town, but for now I will be out back, putting together some new gear at the forge.” ------------------------- Dawn broke as Kirin and Lydia walked quickly back to Whiterun, bound for the Temple of Kynareth. He had visited the temple on his first arrival to Whiterun for a quick prayer, but the priestess hadn’t been there at the time. Today, though, they found Danica healing a poor soul with a terrible injury from some needless skirmish out in the wilds. Once she finished her incantation, Kirin approached her in conversation. They talked quietly while Lydia kept an eye on the door. It wasn’t long before Kirin accepted her request, and motioned for her to join him as they headed back outside. “Did she have something for you, Kirin?” Kirin nodded, “She did – but it will not be easy. We are tasked with restoring the Gildegreen to its former glory and our first step involves finding a specific dagger.” “Well that doesn’t seem so bad,” said Lydia. “No? You might find that opinion to be untrue, once we try to take Nettlebane from the Hagravens.” “Hags? Oh dear…” “My thoughts exactly.” ------------------------- The oppressive blackness of a cloudy night filled the air around the two friends, as they sat around a small campfire on the outskirts of Ivarstead. The journey there had been long and exciting, leading to a quiet dinner under the lofty fir trees at the mountain’s feet. The flames danced merrily as Kirin and Lydia each sat in their own thoughts, reflecting on was to come. “We should turn in for the night, Lydia. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the path up the mountain is no easy feat.” “Have you made the climb before, Kirin?” He nodded, “It was the last thing I did before departing for Cyrodiil. Father had always wanted to make the trip together, but he took ill when I was seventeen. After he passed, I felt it my duty to make the climb in his honor. I did not enter the monastery or even knock on its doors, but I did pray to Shor to allow Kroval safe passage to Sovngarde.” “You still miss him, don’t you?” asked Lydia. “Yes, of course. It’s been nigh on ten years, but it feels like only yesterday that we laid him to rest in the marshes of Morthal.” “Morthal? You’re from Hjaalmarch? I didn’t know that about you.” “And for good reason. I had a falling out with the Jarl before I left. I don’t even know if I’m welcome there anymore,” said Kirin. “Well, things are different now, no? Soon enough rumors will spread of the coming of the Dragonborn, and you’ll be recognized everywhere.” “I suppose so…but we may be getting ahead of ourselves. Only Balgruuf and some guards have given me that title. We need to see the Greybeards before we jump to any conclusions.” And with that, Kirin stood and rolled out his bedroll before crawling into it, and gazing up at the sky. Lydia rolled out hers, as well, and nestled down inside it. She was soon fast asleep, leaving Kirin to lie in thought under the dark clouds. Feeling himself drifting off, he said a quick prayer to Kyne before he closed his eyes. Once he finished, a swift breeze rolled across Skyrim, pushing the clouds out over the horizon and leaving behind the bright twinkling stars of Mundus. Kirin smiled, and thanked Kyne aloud before falling asleep. ------------------------- They hadn’t climbed very far before Kirin and Lydia both wished they were laying warm in their bedrolls again. The wind howled around the mountainside, blowing snow and ice around like icy pellets and wolves came bounding out of the gales, hungry for food. Stopping to rest an altar high on the southwestern slopes, they took stock of their food and water before heading back into the freezing winds. It was nearly sundown before the storms finally subsided, leaving them with a clear path to High Hrothgar. Now they needed only to worry about whatever manner of creature dwells in the smattering of tree groves and rock outcroppings that remained ahead of them. After climbing well into the evening, they noticed that the wolf attacks seem to have dropped off entirely. Lydia was pleased with that, but Kirin suspected something worse. And he was proven right when a hulking, snow-white Frost Troll leaped down from a stone shelf and charged them with alarming speed. The beast had the element of surprise in its favor, but once Kirin and Lydia regained their footing, they made short work of it. Attacking and feinting from both sides, the troll was soon overwhelmed and fell to its knees after Kirin severed a tendon in the back of its leg. Lydia finished it off with a quick thrust up under its jaw, and they both stumbled over to sit down under the stone ledge for a breather. “What do you say, Lyds…do we camp out here for the night or carry on up? We are on the western slope, which means the monastery isn’t far off now.” “Let’s continue on. It’s damn cold out here.” Getting to their feet after a drink from the waterskins, they trudged on once more. Midnight approached as they finally climbed the final steps up to the entrance to High Hrothgar. Pushing the great wooden doors open, Kirin and Lydia stumbled inside, to find a robed figure walking towards them. “So…a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.” |
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| Areial | Mar 13 2018, 04:44 PM Post #17 |
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Et'Ada
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:clap: great read!!! |
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| Serethil | Mar 13 2018, 05:57 PM Post #18 |
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Et'Ada
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Caught up! Really great reading Kane, I'm quite enjoying Kirin and his interactions with Kyne; less so Lydia, don't know how you can stand her! She's only marginally less annoying than Serana.... Very well told tale! |
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| Kane | Mar 14 2018, 07:45 AM Post #19 |
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Overlord
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Thanks! I'm trying to get the story caught to him in-game. I don't mind Lyds right now - it's been a long time since I had her as a follower. She is tanking quite well. |
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| Serethil | Mar 14 2018, 09:03 AM Post #20 |
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Et'Ada
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Well, it wasn't ever her abilities I had complaints about - as with every other follower, it's her mouth. |
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