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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 18, 2007 14:52:22 GMT -5
The trees sway in the wind, as the breath of change blow. The Earth groans in warning, and yet none can see it. The dragonfires have been lit, as a new heir has been throned. In concealment, Martin Septim, the Son Of Uriel Septim, begat a child in hhis studies in the Cloud Ruler Temple. His name was Faelin. Faelin Septim. The name commanded authority and respect. The child was taken away from the halls of the Blades to protect it, for north to the lands of Skyrim. He was settled with a group of Monks, who claim that they were the disciples of the Nine and Akatosh, but what lies were twisted in their con play. These men were assassins, who above anything else, hated the Imperials and their ways. These Nords took Faelin east, far acorss the water, to the land of Vvarvendfell, and this is where our story begins. Suns Dawn 12 Turdas 5th Era, 12
"Faelin you filth, you have wasted the early suns light. Get out and do your work, your noon meal is forfeit because of your selfishness." Faelin had already tried to explain to his uncle that he was up late into night studying, but his pleas were futile. His Uncle Garlion pressed on, his mind set. Faelin reluctantly grabbed his vessels of labor; a shovel and a pitchfork. The wooden handle was worn from years of use, and the the family was too poor to purchase anything to replace it. That's why, Faelin assumed, Garlion was so harsh on him. He was too young to understand, what a fool he was... Breakfast was nothing more then a jumble of dried fruit, but in Garlion's eye's, it was enough to suppress Faelins hunger. "If you don't work, you don't eat." That was his Uncles favorite saying However, Faelin labored much more then Garlion, and yet Garlion's stomach was always full, and Faelins left empty and droght. The sun rose over the green hills. The twsited trees monuments in the suns gaze, and the fields, patchwork over the the worlds surface. Faelin admired the scenery, but was soon cursed by Gorlian for pausing for more then a few moments. He wondered why the nine had choosen him for this, he thought that no form of life deserved this. But, oh so blind he was... The fields were wet today, the nights damp air condensed the soul with it's wetness. The fields of Barley needed to be tended to. This barley was Seyda-neens lifeline for anything alcholic. Though, as crucial as Faelins job was, he was as poor as most beggars. The harvest would be coming soon, and already Faelin and the rest of the field workers were busy at bringing the crop down.
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Umaril
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Post by Umaril on Mar 18, 2007 16:44:12 GMT -5
Brilliant, I'm glad that you decided to write an Oblivion Fan-Fic, don't forget to bring it to my site
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 18, 2007 17:05:25 GMT -5
Lol, Yes ofcourse, once it's finished. And I plan on finishing this.
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Post by Remis on Mar 18, 2007 17:10:21 GMT -5
Pretty nice. Though I may suggest addming more detail. Phyisical apperance, any impressions the crop made? The story is pretty good though.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 18, 2007 17:29:57 GMT -5
The day was filled with back-breaking labor. The harvest was growing closer, and many lords and ladies would want their drink. That, and for granted many took, was the job of Faelin. But, even with such a burden, he did often times manage to escape the hard life and practice what he loved: Archery aned running, simply observing the landscape as he jogged down the wretched roads, wgich were soft and easily modified from the water concentration in the soil.
That afternoon, when the his turn was done, he got away. For a while at least, or so he thought. The city Seyda-neen was small and unsignificant, but it was a great turn of events from the Farm if he were to go there. The town was not densley populated, like the unreal city of Vivec, but it had it's ways to entertain Faelin, as it was the best he had ever gone to. He once travelled to Balmora, but that was a long time ago, and Faelin could not conjure any memories.
So, off he trotted, to the small port town of Seyda-neen. The city was slow, a few guards patrolled the poor community. The only notable thing about this town is that it was the first stop for people coming from the mainland to Vvarvandfell. The town had definitley grown though. The imperial troops were in the process of making the town an outpost for trading and military purposes. People had also came from Cyrodiil because of the Oblivion Crisis, which Faelin knew little of.
He wandered the streets for a while until something cought his eye. A faint glimmer from off in the alley. Curious, Faelin crept closer, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He put his diirty hands in his torn pocket and watched the ground, while continuing to the glimmer.
Faelin know entered the shadow of the alleyway and he looked up to scrutinize the object further. It appeared to be some ring. Faelin, interested, took the ring and inspected it. It was very old, by the looks of it. Their was an amyethyst gem in the middle, and in it swriled strange blue mist. Faelin clenched it into his hand and ran off to the merchant store. The store was full, and much talking and laughter resinated from the floor above. Faelin could hear the hearty laugh of an old Nord man. The seller was a very old and tall High elf. His side was scrunched over, as if someone had striked him in the side.
Ignoring the strange impression the elf made, Faelin raised his hands, and opened him to reveal the ring. "How much is this ring worth?" Faelin blurted. He was too excited, and he couldn't control it. He didn't notice a very small and old wood elf sitting on a battered stool off to the side. The merchant glanced at it, rubbing his chin in the process. Then, the wood elf stood up. His brown cloak falling to the ground to hide his wrinkled time-worn legs."Le-let me see what-t you have there b-boy." The merchant shrugged, as if permitting the boy to do so. Faelin, looking as excited as ever, offered his hand to the old elf. The elves eyes brightened in fascination. "W-here did you g-get this?" His voice rised in pitch with every word. "I found it out in town." The boy responded, quite annoyed that no one had answered him yet.
"That's mine!" The wood elf blurted. He pulled an old staff from under his cloak, and raised it threatingly. The merchant shouted for the guards as the wood elf swung. It was slow and weak, he blow was, but Faelin fell to the ground, his ring barred in his hand. The guards came rushing in, swords drawn. The yelled for the old elf to drop his weapon. He muct have relized what he had done as his eyes showed fear and fret. He dropped the stick, and fell into the wating guards arms, he slapped his limbs in iron. As he was hauled out the door, Faelin could make out these words," That's my family heirloom! My ring of healing!"
Faelin was overcome with this. A ring of healing? he thought. How could someone as unlucky and unfortunate as him have found this? Was this destiny, or something worse...
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Umaril
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Post by Umaril on Mar 18, 2007 18:27:58 GMT -5
YAYS!!! Quick updates.
Angrond is making his return also, I'm halfway through the next chapter........
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 18, 2007 19:18:39 GMT -5
Did you likw it???
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Umaril
Rookie
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Post by Umaril on Mar 18, 2007 19:35:10 GMT -5
Yes!
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 18, 2007 19:38:11 GMT -5
Yay! Did you get the ring: wood elf thing?
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Post by me on Mar 18, 2007 19:44:09 GMT -5
Yes its THAT OLD BUGGER!
TAX EVASION!
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 18, 2007 19:46:59 GMT -5
;D
I think you are thinking about another quest at Seyda-neen.
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Post by me on Mar 18, 2007 19:54:09 GMT -5
No the person who had the stash...Whose ring you got from the barrel in Seyeda Neen
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 19, 2007 18:19:34 GMT -5
Yeah, that's it.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 20, 2007 11:15:26 GMT -5
He shoved the ring down his battered cloth pants. Ligiments of string prouduced from years of use protruded from various places all over the pants. He looked up at the High Elf once more. He was now sitting uncomfortably upon a small stool behind the counter.
"Can you tell me where I can find the value for this?"
"You can most likely find the value of that ring up north, in the city of Balmora. Just don't come back here again, you brought me enough bad luck. Not to mention I lost a customer."
Faelin leaft the grim elf behind as he entered once again Seyda-neen. The sky was grey now, a result from the sinking sun. He stepped into the twilight, determined to find answers. He didn't know how to get to Balmora, he only knew the general direction; north, as the merchant had advised. He didn't want to walk, as the wild of Morrowind was filled with bandits, rogues, disease, and other wild creatures.
Many people seemed to be drawn to a large hill, out a little past the outskirts of Seyda-Neen. Most of these people were burdened with heavy packages and crates. Faelin decided to follow. Maybe these items the workers carried were going to be shipped to Balmora? Maybe then, he could hitch a ride on the vessel that carried the cargo.
Faelin found the destination of the workers, but was surprised to find a large, bug like creature that seemed to hang suspended in air. It didn't look like it ould carry much, but the luggae kept coming, and the vessel complied with the burden. There was a dark elf man leaned against a twisted tree, a way off from the port, where the strange creature lurked. Faelin strode up to him, determined for an answer.
"Kind sir, can you tell me where that... ship is headed?"
The dark elf opened his eyes, which were red as most Dunmers were. His gaze was fierce, and his face was rather mishaped. There was a large, jagged scar that ran down his face.
"That Silt Strider is in bound to Balmora."
His gesture was calm. He obviously didn't want further conversation, so Faelin left, a little satisfied and a little timid from the Darl Elf's malacious posture.
The transportation vessel howled, and the city of Seyda-Neen was polluted with it's horrid noise. When the majority of the dock workers were heading back down the hill towards Seyda-neen, Faelin boarded as quietly and discreetly as he could. The small space was packed with items. Cages, barrels, boxs, crates, shackles, weapons, food, drink, everything. From the looks of the cargo, it looked like it's destination was to a large city. He just hoped that the strange man was telling the truth...
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Post by Dagothkitty on Mar 20, 2007 12:38:26 GMT -5
The massive hulk carrying the cargo started to move. First, slowly, then a massive drop, which shook the whole vessel. Faelin clutched to a wooden barrel as the beast from of transportation howled into the cloudy sky. The strider was very tall indeed. At one time, Faelin permitted himself to take a look. He regretted that mistake. he stomach flipped as he noticed how high he was off the ground he was so used to.
The rythmic pounce became a horrible melody to Faelins already ringing ears. It sounded as if the Earth was shattering under the weight of each mammoth step the beast took. But eventaully, Faelin found himself immune to it. He had learned to ignore annyoing things, such as his Uncles constant screams and nagging. Then he remembered. It came in a flash, and for a moment, Faelin thought his heart stopped. He was not where he was supposed to be. His uncle would be furious if he found him. If..... Faelin was glad of that word. He wouldn't have to suffer any consequences if his Uncle couldn't find him. So, comforted, he fell asleep, to the horrible melody...
"Wake up." Faelin could feel a sharp pain in his stomach. "Wake up, kid." The voice was rough. Faelin woke, his eyelids heavy.
"Where am I?" Faelin stammered. The dark Elf looked pitfully down on the small Imperial.
"You are in Suron. Your lucky I didn't throw you off the strider when I first saw you."
"We're in Suron?" Faelin shouted, alarmed. The Dark Elf rolled his eyes in mock despair.
"That is what I said, Troubled One." Faelin jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the Dark Elf. He was on the strider still, except the deck was empty.
"How far away are we from Seyda-Neen?" Faelin asked in a panic.
"About twenty leagues Northeast." The Dark Elf answered quite annoyed.
"And how far from Balmora?" The elf sighed.
"I'm not your guide. Get off this ship before I call the guards."
Faelin fled away from the strider and the elf. He still didn't know where he was, he didn't have anywhere to go, no many, and nothing to eat. This city was larger, but and much more well organized then Seyda-Neen, but no one seemed to be out. The sun was rising out of a craddle between two peaks now. Faelin could see the glimmer of light off water to his right. Across the wtare was what looked like a small port.
A small Khajiit was approaching Faelin, but he was too scared and confused to notice. "You!"
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