The Mystery Of Uncle Yargums Legs (Fyr)

A/N: The Mystery of Uncle Yargums Legs is a very silly thing that has been sitting in my WIPs for a solid 2 years partly finished until now. Who took the poor old dwarfs prosthetic legs? Read and find out.

I wake early one morning with the unshakable feeling that something is not right. Casting a candlelight spell, as I’m still too groggy to bother lighting an actual candle I check the children’s rooms- all still asleep. Alfe and Beyte sleep soundly and are undisturbed by the brief light in their room. Delte I find still asleep though with an arm hanging off the bed, and Uupse has somehow ended up so her head is at the foot of the bed and the rest of her is where her head should be. How that happened I’m not sure, nor am I awake enough to find out. Ayron I find sound asleep as well hugging his favorite stuffed animal, a Guar named Gua-Gua. With all five magic using forces of chaos safe and accounted for, and nothing else being out of place in my own room, the study, or the lab, the problem must be from downstairs. I brew myself a very quick cup of tea to drink while scouting out the first floor to try and find what it is that has me feeling as if something is off. With my cup of tea in hand I head to the lower level, and eventually to the sanatorium where the patients live. I hope none of them have died, that would be unfortunate. I seem to be getting closer to some form of treatment for their disease, though trials so far have failed. I ask the guard, an old friend of mine, if there have been any issues during the course of the night. As he goes to answer I hear someone calling my name, sounding rather distressed. “That’s been the only issue.” The guard says, pointing to an old diseased Dwarven man who is very upset. My old, very old, friend Yargum attempts to crawl in our direction. He lost his legs long ago and since then has used a prosthetic of sorts that I made for him…the only problem is he doesn’t seem to have it. “When were you going to mention the fact he’s lost his legs?” I ask the guard, who avoids eye contact guiltily and shrugs as an answer while staring at the floor.

 

 Carefully avoiding some of the patients who are still awake and alert to avoid getting infected myself or torn to pieces, I get to Yargum eventually. After some time I manage to calm him down, though I’m troubled when he tells me someone has stolen his legs. He went to take a nap, as he manages to transfer in and out of them when needed, and when he woke up they were gone. None of the other patients have taken them, only a few still have the skill to do so, as Corprus turns the mind to mush in most cases before killing the infected person. That’s strange indeed, there’s been no one here recently to plunder the dungeon either, a little game I’ve concocted to test adventurers. If they don’t kill or hurt anybody they can keep most of what they find, I have more than enough relics and treasures that are hidden away safely that I can part with a few every now and then. That means it must be someone within the tower. I doubt it’s the guard, though he is the first to be interrogated as he’s nearby. Not wanting to bother with five sleep deprived children I go back to bed for a few hours with a note to myself to ask them all once morning truly comes. Ayron wakes me from my brief slumber by repeatedly poking me in the shoulder and occasionally the face until I get up. “Stop that, it's not polite.” I tell Ayron sternly, grabbing his hand before he has another chance to poke me in the eye. He makes a face that conveys both unhappiness and understanding so I let go of his hand a moment later and get up out of bed. The girls I find still asleep as we wander down the hall to go make breakfast. I’ll let them sleep, it’s a weekend anyways. Besides letting them sleep gives me the chance to question Ayron without added distraction. 

 

Rekindling the fire I have Ayron fetch some ingredients to help make breakfast before giving him instructions on what to do with them. With the little potential fire hazard busy and out of the way I can carry on with the part of making breakfast involving open flame more or less in peace. Breakfast is eventually served only slightly burned though nobody complains. I’ve had worse and Ayron certainly has as well. “You haven’t been down to the sanitarium lately, have you?” I ask while stirring more hot water into my tea. The boy shakes his head though the nervous look on his face suggests otherwise. “Why? Have you been down there lately?” He asks me in return. “Oh, no reason. One of the patients was having a problem last night so I went to go check on them this morning. It seems we have a mystery on our hands.” Ayron perks up at the last sentence. “A mystery? What kind of mystery? I like mysteries!” That is evident by the amount of books he has on the subject and insistence to talk to the Telvanni guard whenever I take him to Sadrith Mora. I’m fairly certain one of my magnifying glasses is still missing after he took it to go wander around the island to go look for “clues” with Gua-Gua as his trustworthy sidekick of course. 

 

“Someone, or something, has taken Yargum’s leg prosthesis. I’m trying to figure out who it could be. You’re sure you haven’t been down there lately?” Ayron reiterates he has not gone near the basement recently though he continues to avoid eye contact while doing so. I still have some suspicions yet I also doubt he could move the heavy metal by himself, he is only nine and beyond that is small for his age. “Did you ask Uupse? She likes it down there. Oh! Did you ask the guard? He’s in there all the time.” Ayron offers suggestions on what to do next and additionally brings up Beyte as a possibility after I tell him the guard has already been interrogated. She has begun to exhibit some strange behaviors recently, I wouldn’t be surprised if compulsive theft is a new one in the increasingly concerning string of behaviors. “The case of uncle Yargums legs…” Ayron mutters to himself, tucking Gua-Gua under his chin and hugging the stuffed animal. “What did Yargum say about it?” he asks a moment later and is seemingly disappointed at the lack of helpful information as Yargum was asleep when the theft occurred. We continue to swap ideas until the girls one by one come downstairs each making their own breakfast and scattering to their preferred places. Alfe goes and sits in her favorite spot by the fire, Beyte goes to the small table by the front door, Delta disappears to the lower floor alcove on the way to the basement, and Uupse…sits at the table with Ayron and I. “Good mornin-” I go to say before I’m interrupted by “Have you seen anything weird in the basement lately?” Ayron asks Uupse. She turns her head and looks at the boy, mouth still full of rice and unable to speak as a result, though the look on her face speaks louder than any words could. “...Sorry.” Ayron says upon receiving such a look, turning to face away from her in a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. Having swallowed her food and gotten Ayron to shut up she turns back to me “To answer his question which I’m going to ask is really your question, no I haven’t seen anything down there that’s out of the ordinary.” she tells me honestly, and I believe her. Out of the five of them she is the worst liar, and usually speaks the truth because of it. 

 

Before continuing she thinks for a minute eyebrows furrowed in thought as she attempts to recall something “Now that you mention it actually, there was something odd a few days ago. I was sweeping down there and found a trail of what looked like little footprints going from the gate to the area where Yargum usually is and from there to one of the closed off areas before coming back to the gate. It was like a big loop. We don’t have any child patients, do we?” Unless there was an admission I didn’t know about that the temple placed when I wasn’t looking there are no child patients. Only adults of various ages and disease stages from those in the earliest phase who appear more or less normal to those close to the end that are mindless and suffering great pain, and those in-between like Yargum who are mentally intact yet physically disabled. “We do not have any child patients that I know of. The reason I ask is that Yargums leg prosthetic has gone missing, possibly stolen. Before you ask, the guard has already been interrogated, as has Ayron. I don’t think you are the one responsible, but I had to ask.” I explain to her and when Ayron hears that he too was interrogated pipes up with “Hey, that was not an interrogation! That was a conversation between investigators.” crossing his arms in annoyance. Uupse stifles a laugh, pats him on the back and tells him that sure it was, he can keep telling himself that if it’ll make him feel better. With two out of five questioned that leaves the other three to go. I begin with Delte, she will be the easiest to ask. With Alfe and Beyte one has to be a bit more careful with language as it will either be taken extremely literally or twisted out of context. I find her in her typical preferred area working on a list of required replacements for the next trip to Sadrith Mora. “You haven’t been in the basement recently have you?” I ask, poking my head around the corner. “Nope. No reason to go near the sick people on purpose in the middle of the typical period for seasonal illness.” She answers without looking up from her list making. “Good talk.” I say before going back upstairs. Her comment on seasonal illness was all that needed to be said.

 

Three down, two to go. Alfe goes easier than expected by giving a daily recount of the past two weeks of where she has been and when it’s clear that she has spent most of her time up in the lab or in the spot I find her finishing breakfast and reading a book that is nearly the thickness of her arm. I remind her to not overwork herself and to make sure to take breaks before moving on. And then there was one, this could go very well or very poorly the chance of either is roughly the same. “Beyte, have you been down in the basement with the patients at all in the last two or three days?” I ask and she turns to look at me “Last two or three days? No I don’t think so…oh wait, yes. Yesterday afternoon, very briefly. Why? Are they all okay?” I notice out of the corner of my eye Ayron peeking over one of the short walls that separates the entryway from where he and Uupse sit listening in on our conversation. He seems unaware that I notice him spying so I continue explaining the situation to Beyte, that everyone is safe, but we are missing some important equipment that makes quality of life greatly improved. 

 

I then ask what it was she was doing down there yesterday. She pauses for a moment and I see out of the corner of my eye again a now very nervous Ayron pulling at his hair in a mixture of anger and anxiety as Beyte begins to speak. “I was helping Ayron to move something, it was too heavy for him to move himself, even with magic.” I nod in understanding and thank her before turning back to where Ayron had been eavesdropping. The boy blinks twice before jumping like a scared cat and attempting to run away out of the room and upstairs. Uupse stops him before he can get fully out of the kitchen and picks him up before plopping him back in his original chair. “Where did you put them?” I ask calmly, but sternly. “I’ll show you.” The boy mumbles getting out of his chair and leading me, and Uupse who is now curious, to the basement and down past the gate along the rough path until we reach one of the areas closed off for storage. He points to one and upon opening the door out fall the intricate metal legs and their main base. The mystery of uncle Yargums legs has been solved, and quicker than I thought it would be. With nothing else to proclaim at the current moment all I have to say to the two as we stand looking at the now no longer missing prosthetic is simply “Case closed.”               

Under The Same Stars (Ben)

Prompt: Under the same stars

When the nights are slow at the ancestral shrine, no one calls for help, and the other ancestors sit content to talk amongst themselves in the timeless existence of the afterlife I find myself wandering. While I cannot stray very far, only within the confines of moving from shrine to shrine, there are enough of them around that I can go a considerable distance. Only when I get far from civilization does my tether to this world break.

One night I find myself wandering away from the Morag Tong shrine in Vivec City, as I had always considered Eno Hlaalu to be family, and wander up to the walkways and bridges of the Cantons. The ordinators on watch stand guard silently ever vigilant in this sacred and bustling city. The moons shine brightly over the water, with the twinkling stars reflected, seeming to move with the slow crashing of the waves. The ministry of truth also sits above the city, always threatening to crash down and cause destruction, and yet it remains unmoving.

Quietly I walk from the Arena past the Cantons of the saints and on until I get to the foreign quarter. Traditionally foreigners have not been allowed past their respective Canton into the rest of the city without proper papers, it seems for the most part this is still the case, though there is some more freedom of movement than there was when I was alive, and certainly much more than when many of the other ancestors were alive. I am not entirely sure what it is that drew me to this place, somewhere I would seldom go while alive, and have no reason to go to when dead. Still, whether it be simple curiosity or divine inspiration I find myself stepping into the Canton, the little town within a town, enclosed in stone away from the elements, and prying eyes.

The inn here is bustling and I find some of the shops still open even so late at night, the upper levels house many of the shops, though I find one or two on the lower level as well whose owners have since gone to sleep. I also find something I had not expected. Off the hallway on the lower level is a very small shrine, likely meant for foreigners whose families may be far away. Sitting on the stones that enclose the small pit of ash I find a spirit, one of a small girl, no more than perhaps six or seven years old at most. With the rake provided near the shrine she rakes the ash in patterns, initially not noticing my presence.

 She both looks and does not look Dunmer, she is taller than I would expect, with almost curly hair, and sharper features- perhaps she is mixed with something else, maybe Bosmer, or Altmer, perhaps even Breton. Though I do not know of any other culture that maintains a connection with their ancestral spirits, and the girl like me and many of the other ancestors wears a set of traditional robes, only child sized, in her case. “Hello.” I say to the spirit after a minute of observation and she looks up at me. “You’re dead.” She says matter-of-factly and I nod in response, a moment later she adds  “I’m dead too.” going back to her raking. “Do you have a name?” I ask the girl who once again stops her task and looks at me. “Leah. What’s your name?” That’s an uncommon name in these parts but one I have heard before nonetheless. “My name is Ben.” At that she raises an eyebrow, not believing me. “Fine.” I sigh “my name is originally Wei, but my common name is Ben. So I go by Ben.” With that cleared up the little girl puts down the rake and stands up, taking hold of the lantern that has been sitting next to her on the stones and walking over to where I stand by the doorway. “Want to go for a walk? It’s sad to go alone.” The girl says to me, holding up the arm that holds the lantern toward the door.

Why not? I feel a bit bad for the girl anyways. After agreeing the two of us head back up the stairs and out into the night. As we walk, the girl takes my hand, holding it with one hand and her lantern with the other. I can only assume she leads a lonely existence. The ordinators still stand at watch, and will remain that way until sunrise. “Where did you get your lantern?” I ask the girl as it lights our way in the absence of torchlight. “I found it.” Is all she replies with, I can only guess it somehow appeared when she died. “Where did you get your swords?” Leah asks, pointing out the katana and tanto with me. I explain what I did in life and how they were a gift from Eno Hlaalu, one of the first things he did upon becoming grand-master, in fact. “Constellation!” The girl exclaims looking up and finding a figure in the stars. I point out two more nearby, though one is harder to see due to the moons getting in the way. The two of us find ourselves down by the water eventually, watching how the light reflects on the water. “Do you have any family?” Leah eventually asks me after a period of silence. “Living family, I mean.” she adds after a moment. “I have a son, he is in his mid twenties now. He and his mother live in The Imperial City, though he recently moved back here, after being away for a long, long time.” While Valan was born on the tiny island of Sadrith Mora he and his mother moved shortly after I died, as it’s a difficult place to raise a child generally, and especially alone. After that thought crosses my mind I continue “There are also some extended family members, though we were never particularly close. The man I was telling you about though, the one who gave me these swords, he is still alive.” I lean in and whisper “In fact he lives in a secret hideout beneath the arena.” I put a finger to my lips when leaning back, that’s secret information, not to be repeated.

 “I have a brother, he’s much older than me though.” She pauses “And parents, though…they’re not very nice.” I suppose my assumption that the girl leads a lonely existence is correct, and should I ever find the whereabouts of her parents I will at the very least give them a stern talking to. In reality it’s more likely they will meet the sharp end of a katana, whether that is mine or someone else’s depends only on if they live in the country or not. “Do you ever see your son? What’s his name?” Leah asks as we talk more all the while observing the stars above. “I am usually the one that comes to help when he needs it, the other ancestors are too busy playing cards. His name is Valan. He also likes to do what you and I are doing now, watching the stars.” I point out his favorite constellation that is almost directly above us.

“Even though we’re far away, in the end we are all under the same stars.” I tell her, in hopes that perhaps that will bring her some comfort, knowing that she still has some connection to the world. That makes her smile a little, though it is a bittersweet smile, there is just a bit of sadness mixed into it. Eventually the sky turns from a deep navy to pink and orange as the sun rises in the east, it is time for spirits like us to go home until called upon. The world of the living may operate on its own during the day, but in the end we are all under the same stars, even the spirits of lonely little girls, and battle hardened warriors.

Tri Martolod- The Three Sailors (Lucien)

A/N: Listen to the accompanying song by Tri Yann here

 “Get in loser we’re getting Shakshuka.” Baurus says to me, coming to an abrupt halt outside fort Farragut, with a small cart like carriage attached to a horse. “I’m never one to turn down a good Shakshuka…but where would we get it around here?” Climbing down from the cart Baurus explains that it won’t be anywhere nearby, in fact it won’t even be in Cyrodiil. Jauffre and Baurus have some business in Daggerfall and the surrounding bay area, and since Issy is tagging along they thought to ask me as well. I haven’t been back to Daggerfall in at least three years, probably longer, though there’s a chance I can still navigate the docks I spent most of my young childhood running around on- before Vicente found me. I agree to the invitation and invite Baurus in, or more accurately down, while I quickly pack. “If you and Jauffre have to go off somewhere…who’s watching Martin?” I question Baurus as I wander around picking up things to be packed “I’m not the only blade, you know. There’s other guards, he’ll be safe for a few days. Why is there a contract I should know about?” In reply I scoff, as much as I didn’t overly like emperor Uriel there’s been nothing so far Martins done wrong to warrent s hit on him. Besides, I doubt most people even know he exists. “Alright, all packed. Ready?” Baurus nods and climbs up the ladder first, once we’re both topside I lock the trap door that leads to my little flat and we set off. Next stop: Isabelle and Jauffre in the imperial city, and then Daggerfall.

As we ride, Baurus rambles about his own adventures in his homeland before he began to be trained by the blades. Sentinel always seemed like an interesting place, and Baurus only cements that idea with his stories. It seems that rather than riding we’ll be traveling by sea, something Baurus seems to have mixed feelings about. Apparently some years ago there was a blade who was shipwrecked on their way to Daggerfall, a journey that led to the warp in the west, and Highrock and Hammerfell, and the city state of the orcs as we know them today. However that nervousness seems to be overridden by the redguards natural affinity for adventure and seafaring, it comes as naturally to them as magic does to Bretons. “Do you still speak Breton, Lucien?” Baurus asks me at one point during our ride, to which I respond “Yes, of course I do!” in Breton, of course. Ironically people tend to mistake Vicente for a Breton and me an imperial from time to time, in reality it’s the other way around. I must give Vicente credit really, as not only has he put up with me for so long, but also took an active role in making sure my culture of origin was preserved in my upbringing. A 300 year old imperial vampire taking on the care of a Breton child found wandering on the docks, that’s a story you don’t hear everyday.

By dusk we reach the city and unload the bag or two we’d each taken with us before crossing the bridge into the city and making our way to the harbor. On a bench occupied with their own conversation sit Jauffre and Issy, seemingly all ready to go. Baurus interrupts them by clearing his throat and both look up “To actual good food and maybe some spying?” Jauffre rolls his eyes but gets up and Issy follows, grabbing the bag next to her “I can see you were able to recruit our favorite member of the dark brotherhood, Baurus.” Jauffre motions to me before waving the two of us off toward the boat we’re to take. “The blades and the dark brotherhood might not exactly get along but deep down he likes you, if he didn’t you probably wouldn’t be alive right now.” Baurus whispers to me as we walk side by side. I glance back at Jauffre who continues talking with Issy, and she’s the reason I got here in the first place. It pays to have friends in high places, I suppose.

By the time the ship leaves the harbor it’s late and each of us retreat to our respective rooms. Jauffre being…Jauffre, got his own room, Issy as well for her own privacy, leaving Baurus and I to room together. Neither of us mind, despite our differences in occupation we have a surprisingly good friendship…which may or may not be partly built on our shared pastime of exploring the sewers under the imperial city. Our room is one of the few that has a window or two and I sit on my bed gazing out of it, up at the stars and their reflections in the water, humming a song that had popped into my head, an old Breton sea song.

Tri martolod yaouank... la la la...
Tri martolod yaouank i vonet da veajiñ bis
 
E vonet da veajiñ, gê!
E vonet da veajiñ bis

Baurus recognizes the tune and softly sings along about the tale of three sailors who come upon new lands as he reads through reports on his own bed on the other side of the small room. We go on that way, mindlessly humming and singing, doing our respective tasks and daydreaming until the song ends. By now the hour is late, and while I usually have a difficult time sleeping, the gentle up and down motion of the ship sends me to sleep in no time. When I awake we’ve made significant progress and should be in the harbor in no more than a day or two.  

Paperwork and books take up an awful lot of time when you’ve got nothing else to do, and that’s precisely what Baurus and I do in between conversations until we arrive. Ah, Daggerfall, a city one never truly forgets. The sea breeze is a pleasant change from the forests of Cyrodiil, as is the food. It’s nice to look around and see people who look like you, on the smaller side with hair ranging from a golden color to black like Issy or a brownish shade like my own, who are not quite as tan as our imperial cousins, and know how to make even a plain black robe look good.

Jauffre leads us into the city itself until we come to a small inn of sorts, the innkeeper seems to recognize the grandmaster and leads us upstairs before taking their leave. “An old friend” Jauffre says with a smile, regarding the innkeeper. We’re then shuffled into a larger common room and the plan for the trip is explained further. Baurus and I are to take a small side trip to Hammerfell, to see how they’re doing regarding the oblivion crisis and if any assistance is needed. Baurus it seems also has a secondary mission that will involve some spying, which I can potentially come in handy for if things take a sour turn. Jauffre has business primarily with whoever it is that’s currently in charge of the kingdom of Daggerfall, and Issy will be doing her own recognisance throughout the city…along with visiting her parents. With plans explained we split up and get to work, and yet I still can’t get that song out of my head, humming it to myself as Baurus and I take a walk to go find that Shakshuka he’d mentioned, and maybe some Kig Ha-Farz while we’re at it.

Character Reference: Xiran Yu

The other half of the crime fighting duo that is Ling and Xiran keeping Raven Rock just a little bit safer...but not from Ash Spawn those things are the guards problem

 Full name: Xiran Yu

Languages spoken: Common, Dunmeri (south-western Vvardenfell dialect)

Birthday: June 18th 3E 400

Age: 27

Height: 5’3”

Weight: 135

Eye color: Red

Hair color: Black (Dyed Brown)

Race: Dunmer

Significant other: none

Children: none

Class: Rogue

Profession: Detective (special populations division)

Gender: Female

Gender expression: Feminine

Pronouns: She/her

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Romantic Orientation: Homoromantic

Known disabilities: Dysgraphia

Siblings: none

Parents: Fuhai and Beihe Yu

Current Residence: Raven Rock, Solstheim

Aliases/Also Known As: Detective Yu

A Much Needed Spa Day (Naomi)

Prompt: A much needed spa day

While the terrain of Morrowind is often rugged, unforgiving, and often quite hot due to the lava pools, the country does have the occasional tolerable region or natural environment that one could even consider pretty. Having spent far too much time wandering the ash wastes and foyada’s I wearily find myself walking toward one of those havens of tolerable climate. Civilization at last, and whoever is in charge really needs to repair the road system…and in some regions, create one. One positive aspect of the often unforgiving country is it’s wealth of hot springs that in some cases are used for bathing. Nodding hello tiredly to the guard as I pass through the gates I’m given directions to the nearest bath house and where I can get some rest. I think that’s the nicest thing someone’s done for me since I’ve been here, aside from Fyr buying me a small folding fan that has come in handy many a time. I knock on the door of the bath house upon reaching my destination in the far south-western corner of Balmora and a young woman answers the door before letting me inside and taking my cloak and other outer layers. At the counter I tell the woman running the place I’m there for a bath and pay the price for it before being given a small wooden token. Other women sit or lay around, some getting massages, others sit in elegant silk robes having their nails painted with intricate designs, and more in the other room relax in the warm waters of the natural hot spring. I store my clothes in a small locker and change into something more suitable. Many of the women prefer to bathe with nothing, though I prefer to wear at least something when I’m public. Modesty, and sanitation, are two rather important concepts in my ideological system. No one seems to mind as I sink into the warm water and I spot Naryu Virian, the Morag Tong agent I keep running into, from across the spring. She seems to ignore me, though I’m sure she notices my presence as the only foreigner here aside from a blonde woman who works for the fighters guild. While I soak and relax  a couple of women around my age start up a conversation with me. The three of us come to the conclusion that during this stormy, cold, dreary week this is a much needed spa day.

I'm Still Here (Lucien)

Mini prompt: I’m Still Here

Despite everything people still seem to not entirely understand me, truthfully they never have. Regardless of how much I try to make myself known, or change to fit the standards of society, or belong, it doesn’t work. It’s not so bad though, at least I know who I am, even if I still want to feel like I belong. In the end I’m still here, and they can’t tell me who to be. I’ll keep living for me, and me alone. Even so, the world is full of twisted words and lies, backstabbing and treachery, unchanging and ever going on. I think about it late one night sitting in the corner of the sanctuary while everyone else sleeps. Ocheeva and her brother had gone to bed hours ago, as did many of the other members, Vicente more recently decided it was time for a nap in his coffin, and Issy is away on a contract for the fighters guild. It only leaves me awake, or more accurately me and Jeff the dark guardian who wanders the halls. The creaking of bones as he walks back and forth on patrol can be heard even from my little corner where I sit thinking and attempting to figure out the remains of a puzzle. I should have gone home, but the rain that unexpectedly showed up put a damper on my plans, so I’m stuck here for the night. In theory I could brave the rain, though I’m not sure I want to end up soaked by the time I get home. It’s better just to stay here for night, to sit up and think. It has been too long since I have been in the sanctuary for any significant amount of time, lately most of my time has been taken up with meetings of the Black Hand who seem to enjoy bossing me around. While having my position comes with certain perks, I still end up lacking that feeling of belonging. My absence from the sanctuary makes that more pointed, as the Black Hand may try to tell me who to be, but I’m not what they see in a typical member, and so deep down I keep dreaming. One day I’ll find a place to belong, somewhere where I fit in, and in the meantime I’m still here, with the small amount of people who do care. The faint creaking of bones and the flickering torch light in the dimly lit sanctuary reminds me of that, and that is a comforting fact so late at night.

Lost In The Storm (Everan)

 Prompt: Lost in the storm

Why I ever agreed to take a job that would bring me to the snowy northern mountains of Skyrim is beyond me, even if it’s to help scout for The Blades. Oh how I wish I could be back at home in the sun and warmth of Summerset in spring! Instead I trudge, muttering to myself, ever on and on through the snow- lost in the storm. Will I die from hypothermia in this accursed country? I’m lost! I am absolutely and completely lost! Attempts to look at the map are futile with the biting winds and swirling snow, and so I abandon my mission for the meantime in search of some form of shelter, even if it may be a cave infested with bandits…or worse. After some blind stumbling through the snow I come across a cave mouth, and find it occupied only by a few bandits too tired to put up much of a fight. A pacify spell keeps them calm enough to let me rest and wait out the storm with them. Night falls quickly in this frozen wasteland even in spring. By the time morning comes the snow and wind have lightened a bit, enough to continue my journey. The only problem is I remain lost. The bandits are of little help so I decide to hurry along before the spell wears off and they turn hostile once more. I don’t seem to be all that far from where it is I’m supposed to be scouting out, though I have no idea which direction I’m supposed to go in. The storm has covered any tracks that could serve as clues. I look at a few of the trees dotting the mountains looking for any sort of landmark that could help, and while they prove unhelpful I do notice something that could prove very useful. From behind one of the snow covered trees the figure of a little girl holding a lantern pokes her head out and beckons me to follow, beginning to walk away. I attempt to run to catch up to her as she stops every so often and turns toward me, holding up her lantern as if to look to make sure I’m following. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” I pant as I scramble through the heavy snow, and get an understanding smile in return before she turns again and continues walking, almost floating above the snow. Tiny footprints seem to disappear at a moment's notice. Eventually I’m led to a large compound high in the mountains surrounded by high walls and metal fencing. I go to say thank you, as I had not summoned an ancestral spirit, though I find nobody to be there when I turn to either side. The wind is beginning to pick up again, I need to find somewhere to shelter for the night. Perhaps even within the compound, if I can find a way in. So long as I am not once again lost in the storm.