The Acha Pact (Part I)

Long before my time, my ancestors had made a deal with a people that have not been seen on Nirn for thousands of years. At least not in their original form. I am writing this story down for my daughter (Idaina, she shows real promise) and her descendants, so they can know how our family came to be. Also to know what is truly ours in this world. Coven, his exact origins are unknown to anyone in my family. But he would make our family an unknown legend in Tamriel.

His story begins with something our family was not used too...peace. Coven had been a quiet Breton who lived on the shores of the Iliac bay in northern Hammerfell. He had escaped hard times in his homeland, and wanted to live in peace in his small homestead with his wife and son. Something had changed in 1E 420, some weapon had fallen out of the sky. It was Volendrung, their are many stories about Volendrung, forged by the Dwemer. It was like nothing that had been seen in western Tamriel. Coven had a bit of a interest in the myths and stories of the Dwemer and their advanced technologies. Volendrung had fallen not 1 mile from his home. His wife and son were scared for his life, for he had seen the hammer fall one night, and he was hell bent on finding it. He would often say, "That object was ether an object made by the Dwemer or the gods themselves". He had been driven mad ever since he saw Volendrung fall out of the sky. No one knew what he would do next, but what he did do, changed our family history...forever. He would walk to the hammer everyday and study it, feel it, embrace it. His wife was very afraid that he would go mad from Volendrung, but Coven would not listen to her.

One day she went to go see him as he was studying the artifact. By this time the crops on his small little coastal farm had withered to nothing. His appearance had gone astray. "you need to leave that... thing be, you don't know what it is or what it could do to you." she said.

"How...how could I! It is amazing! it...it...it..." he was cut off by a sight in the distance. It looked like a caravan, but with thousands of people. They carried with them carts made of a dazzling gold colored metal, strange contraptions that would move as if it had its own mind, stone to build with, and slaves... snow elf slaves. These mysterious people were not people, they were the Dwemer. "By the gods... I... I need to speak to them, they have so much to tell us!". Coven ran toward the large party of Dwemer. Running to meet the mortals who challenged the gods themselves. He ran up to one of them and looked at him, he had only heard stories about such mer from stories and gossip. The Dwemer was a little taller than him, with a long dark beard, fine purple robes, large pointed ears, dark purplish skin, and eyes that seemed to be filled with knowledge. Just as Coven was about to speak, one of the shackled Snow Elf slaves looked at him with wide eyes and despair, for what the Dwemer would do to him was unimaginable. At that moment one Dwemer hit him in the back of the head with the butt of a Dwemer war hammer.

When Coven awoke he was in shackles, in a sort of holding cell, underground. across from him was that same Snow Elf slave that had tried to warn him about his impending doom at the hands of the Dwemer. "Where the hell am I?!" Demanded Coven. From across the holding cell he heard a voice.

"Volenfell, you are in Volenfell. I would call it Hegathe, but you would probably know it as Deathland considering that you are a human. You are in the possession of Clan Rourken, you are a slave...just like me". A Snow Elf walked closer to him, and helped him to his feet.

"Who are you?" Coven asked.

"I am your fellow slave, or you can call me Penestel Acha. At your service". Penestel was... almost mocking the fact that Coven was confused.

"What happened?" Coven questioned.

"Well lets see...you ran up to a high ranking Dwemeri Captain, and you were knocked unconscious because you're a bumbling idiot. So they threw you in with the other slaves, so you get to help build a city right on top of your farm." Penestel said.

"What...what about my family?" Coven asked as he braced himself for whatever was to come.

"Dead...most likely dead." Penestel said. Coven fell to his knees.

Coven whispered, "no..."

((Part II coming soon))

I like how you intertwined the family's history with that of the lore of Volendrung and the Rourken clan in a small way that fits in rather seamlessly. Of course I'm not certain how cruel the Rourken clan itself was; but it's believable that they were brutal like many of the other dwemer clans apparently were!

thanks for the feed back, I love it. I try to keep it as lore friendly as possible, so by any means, please comment.

In terms of an additional thing to comment on...

Perhaps you could include an additional line or two on why Coven was driven mad ever since he saw Volendrung fall from the sky. It appears he was relatively mentally stable previously, wanting to live in peace with only a bit of interest in things relating to the Dwemer. But that seems to have instantly changed that one night.

Was he awed by its magnificence, never before seeing anything like it? Did he think he could build a better life for himself with it? Make himself rich, famous, or powerful? A motivation may help the reader understand why he became so obsessed with it!