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March of the cold Heroes


Started by Idriar
Post #58309
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Aldmeri Dominion (Altmer)
4E 212

The wind blew cold and hard snowflakes into his face. Why should anybody be so insane to start a war over such a place? Dacesco Fodiari couldn´t understand why there had been a civil war. He wasn´t much in politics. Gladly it was over. He sweared. The snow storm got worse and worse.

"Kolring! When will we be in Saarthal? We will have to return to Winterhold if this ain´t getting clear again! I don´t want to lose more men!"

The Nord in front of him shouted back, his voice nearly unhearable through the howling wind.

"Typical Imperial milk drinker! This weather is nothing to be concerned about. I´ve told you and your little mage friends, that it would be like this. But you wanted to travel so badly, now deal with it."

Dacesco fell silent again. Fighting against the wind he ignored the damn Nord. This mission was insane. The College of Winterhold had a decade to explore Saarthal! What did the Synod hope to find there? That place was empty. He recently had the joined the Synod. Maybe they wanted to test him with such a stupid task...

Suddenly the storm abated.

The vile of snow fell, revealing the whole expedition:

Three Nord leaders, three mages of the synod counting himself and one mage from Winterhold.

Dacesco bited his lips. They had started with fifty men. Was this everything that was left? He fell on his knees. His friends, his comrades, his peer mages... either dead or lost in the snow. And where were they? He couldn´t tell which way to go. The mission had failed...

"Is this... what you think of nothing to concerned about?"

He turned to Kolring.

But then he saw it in his face. The astonishment. What did this man see in the snow?

Then Dacesco saw.

A march of pale figures through the snow, at the edge of the snow storm. Their torches lit up the dark night, creating a sphere of light and warmth... It was like he sat at a warm hearth when he looked in these flames.

He couldn´t help it, he had to jump up. The songs they were singing reminded him of stories from his childhood. There was a couple of dozen warriors chanting. It was something about an old Nord hero. It got louder and louder as the march came closer.

The men and women beared strange armor. The Imperial never had seen something like this before. The armor looked used, as if they recently had fought in a great battle. In the middle of the march a huge throne made of mammoth tusks was carried. On it a grim looking warrior. It looked like all these Nords were actually helding some kind of parade for this one.

Kolring reached them. Dacesco could see the Nord tremble. With cold or with fear?

"You! Warriors! You don´t belong here anymore! But please, help us! We got lost in the snow! Have you seen my friends or the man traveling with..."

One of the Nords from the march moved over to Kolring handing a torch to him.

"What?"

Kolring grabbed the torch. Suddenly he smiled and turned around.

"Come! Come and sing! These are friends! They will take us to their mead hall! They are all there! They are waiting for us! Come! Don´t let them wait!"

He joined the march, beginning to sing.

Dacesco watched the Nord unbelievingly.

"Wait! You can´t just walk with them! Who is waiting at this mead hall? The other members of the expedition? Kolring!"

But Kolring wouldn´t listen. Chanting he followed the march. More torches were handed out. The other remaining members of the expedition took them reluctantly, all joining the march.
When a Nord warrioress wanted to give a torch to Dacesco he would ignore her.

He ran beside the march, looking for Kolring.

"Man! What is happening! What are you doing? You can´t just follow these... ey!"

The Nords from the march pushed him out of their way, as if they didn´t see him. Dacesco fell in the snow where staying lying, watching the warriors pass by. What was this? Who were these man? Stormcloaks?

In the snow he would die, Dacesco thought. So he got up and followed the march carefully. Everyone smiled. There was no sign of strain or chill on their faces. Nords could suffer from the harsh weather of Skyrim better than other races, Dacesco thought, freezing.

After a while they indeed came to a bright shining stead in the middle of the cold land. It was a huge hall with mammoth hide covered windows. Even when he turned his head towards the sky he couldn´t see the roof of the building. As if it reached out into the dark vile of the endless night firmament. He took a look around. Never before he had seen the stars shining so bright. Big braziers full of burning coal drove the chill from his bones even before they entered the hall.

The doors of the hall opened. Dacescos mind was taken away.

The flavor of mead a cooking meat was amazing. Whole oxes roasted on spits. The man turning the spits nothing less than giants. Even if he had seen the hall as huge from the outside, he couldn´t tell where the endless rows of benches, tables and golden fires ended. The songs sung filled his ear and his heart. He couldn´t else than joining them. He ate and drank. Nords all around him patted him on the shoulder and smiled at him. When his dish was empty it was filled. When his horn was empty, fresh mead was poured in. Dacecso was given weapons and armor. The warriors challenged him to a fight. But he felt his arm strong and wouldn´t lose a single fight. Noone in the hall lost in combat. They all laughed, ate, drank and fought till...



...Dacesco awoke. He couldn´t feel anything. He tried to look around. But his neck was stiff from the cold. A huge pile of snow covered him up. Coughinly he tried to breath. What has happened? Where did the hall go? His body was shaking, but he turned calmer and cooler. The snow was exhausting his warmth. Dacecso felt it. The void was calling for him.


"..."


"..."


"...over here... by Kynareth, I think this one is still alive!"


Someone kneeled before him digging him out of the snow. Dacesco was wrapped up in blankets. He felt himself being lifted up. Where was he brought to? He heard the voice again.


"You are lucky man! A little later and you would have gone to Sovngarde, friend."


Who controls the Septim crown?
Who keeps the Allesian Heresy down?
We do, we do

Who knocked Yokuda off the maps?
Who keeps the Dwemer under wraps?
We do, we do

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The following 2 users Like Idriar's post:
cadian13, Triskele
Post #58364
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Oh, the dangers of frostbite and the cold seeping into your bones.... ;) Nice work, Idriar!




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The following 1 user likes Triskele's post:
Idriar
Post #58391
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(April 10th 2013, 09:42 AM)Triskele Wrote: Oh, the dangers of frostbite and the cold seeping into your bones.... ;) Nice work, Idriar!

OR, it were really some heroes of Sovngarde marching over the mortal plain, fetching and gathering the man and women who were brave (or dumb) enough to face a snow storm... and died of it ;)


Who controls the Septim crown?
Who keeps the Allesian Heresy down?
We do, we do

Who knocked Yokuda off the maps?
Who keeps the Dwemer under wraps?
We do, we do

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The following 1 user likes Idriar's post:
Triskele
Post #58509
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I was curious on their strange predicament and encounter with the nordic warriors until they reached the mead hall and it was described so greatly. At that point I was like, "...oh man." Then boom! Everything falls into place!

I'm always a fan of unexpected clever surprises such as that, so well done!


Character Profiles:
Endaros Ilmori - Buoyant Armiger
Sunrio - Aldmeri Justiciar

Taren Jucanis - Imperial Deserter (Used for The Black Shroud RP)
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Idriar




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