Tracks in the snow
Sept 17, 2022 23:06:05 GMT -4
๐๐๐ แดแดแด ๐ก๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ฒ๐น๐ฎ๐ป and ๊ง ๐ข๐ฑ๐ช๐ป๐ฒ'๐๐ญ๐พ๐ท๐ฎ ๊ง like this
Post by Dust on Sept 17, 2022 23:06:05 GMT -4
"...So you're sure this is the place?" Kieg grasps his helmet and pulls it off. Ice-frigid wind runs through his blonde hair and sends a chill through his scalp. With his vision unobscured by the helmet he squints into the cave entrance, forty feet up the hill and stark black against the glimmering white of the surrounding snow. Nothing he can see in there.
"Aye," Drayveth says easily, "Right at the back of that cave there, the treasure we're after."
Kieg's brow furrows. "...You're sure? This close to the town?"
"Aye, aye." The dark elf grins. "Trust me. On you go, big man. You take the lead, I'll back you up."
"How come the rest of the boys aren't with us?"
"Enough questions. You wouldn't understand anyway."
Kieg purses his lips. He feels uneasy. But Drayveth is right. He wouldn't understand. And the gang needs a score like this. Things've been thin all winter.
He readies his waraxe with a competent flourish. "Alright. Let's go."
A cave like this probably has beasts in it. Trolls, maybe. His expression perks up. Trolls were great fun to fight. But despite the anticipation of a good battle, Kieg still can't get his mind settled. Something about this is -wrong-.
He is still puzzling over it as he draws even with the entrance of the cave. Pitch black in there. He grunts and unslings his pack and is fishing in it for a torch when he hears Drayveth's cotton-soft footfalls in the snow behind him. He is in the middle of turning to see what the Dunmer wants when he feels a splitting pain race up his side.
"Wha-?"
"Sorry big man." From the corner of his vision Kieg sees Drayveth's white teeth glinting. "Nothing in that cave but your tomb."
Kieg grunts as the Dark Elf pulls the dagger out of his side. The wound's blaring pain is already fading, and Kieg knows that means poison. Really bad poison.
Kieg curses and turns, swinging on instinct, but his axe splits only the air. Drayveth has already skipped back out of range. The Dunmer puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle.
On cue, two arrows fly from the blackness of the cave entrance, one glancing off Kieg's armor and the other snicking through the skin of his exposed shoulder. A moment later the shooters emerge from the cave, twin figures in unfamiliar garb.
"You're done for already, big man." Drayveth sneers, flipping the knife in his hand. "Enough poison on this to kill a netch. Do something smart for once; lay down and die. I'll let you go peaceful. No undignified thrashing about."
"...Why?" Kieg is more confused than angry. He'd been loyal, hadn't he?
Drayveth shrugs. "We all got bounties on our heads, Kieg. I'm cashing in yours. Those friends of mine there'll claim you body for the reward, and I'll get a tasty slice. Don't worry, I won't waste it."
The shooters nock more arrows.
"Lay down and die, big man." Drayveth smirks. "It's for the best. We both know you aren't cut out for bandit life. Your heart's too big. Your head's too dull."
Kieg grits his teeth. "I don't wanna to hurt you, Dray, but if you don't stop this, I'm gonna to have to."
Drayveth barks out a derisive laugh. "Try it."
Kieg nods sadly. "Okay." He tightens his grip on his axe. "I'll try not to kill you." Abruptly he rushes the dark elf, with quickness that might surprise anyone who didn't know him. Drayveth is expecting it though, and darts backwards. Twin pangs flare in Kieg's back as arrowheads strike his armor. That was going to turn into a problem real quickly. He continues his advance and grabs for Dray with his offhand. He can snag the dark elf and beat some sense into him gently, maybe. Drayveth flicks out with his knife and cuts a deep red line across the warrior's palm. Kieg grimaces. "Stop it!"
More arrows rain against his armor. One strikes true, deep. This wasn't fair. He'd never done anything wrong!
"STOP IT!!" He turns and screams at the archers. Another arrow bounces from his pauldron. Drayveth moves in behind him and again drives a blade into his back. Kieg twists and grabs for Drayveth with his bloodied hand, this time catching him at the elbow. He lifts the shocked Dunmer by the arm and snarls into his face before slamming him down into the snow with all his might. "Stay down.. We'll talk about this.."
An arrow strikes him in the abdomen. Roaring, he flings his axe end over end through the air at the shooter. He's never been great at this but this time he's lucky; the axehead thunks solidly into the bowman's chest and he drops straight down into the snow.
Kieg experiences a moment of elation, followed by a familiar pang of regret. Once again, he didn't think things through. He still needs that axe.
He ducks in time to avoid the surviving bowman's next shot and forges back towards the cave entrance to retrieve his weapon.
He's moving a little slower now. Something is wrong in his chest. It's getting hard to breathe, like the air is turning liquid. He doesn't dodge the next arrow in time and it strikes somewhere deep, sends reverberations through his chest through the hazy numbing of Drayveth's poison. This is looking... Bad.
But he's made it to the axe. He yanks it free with a twist of his wrist and just barely manages to get it in the way of the next shot; the arrowhead sparks and shatters against the flat of the axehead. The surviving bowman, a Bosmer, has held his ground thinking he would easily drop his wounded target. Now the wood elf is backpedaling with panic written on his face. His feet tangle beneath him and he falls backward. On a normal day Kieg could cross the distance and be on him in an instant, but now it is all he can do to stagger to the wood elf and finish him before he has time to fight his way out of the snow.
Kieg pulls the axe free and breathes out an exhausted sigh. One hell of a day, and he hadn't even had a proper breakfast yet.
Sudden pain all along his back and side. And again. And again. Oh yes. Drayveth. He'd forgotten about that. Bad mistake, that was.
The dark elf hisses malevolent fury into his ear through clenched teeth. "You damned idiot! You ruined everything!!"
Keig turns, reaches for Drayveth's hand, misses. The poison running in his veins makes him feel slow. Clumsy. Sleepy. The world is reeling. He takes a step and falls. The snow rushes up to his cheek and his eyes close as his head hits the ground. He can't move. It's all he can do to stay awake.
He hears the sound of Drayveth spit. He wants to move, but his body won't listen.
Some time later, he hears the sound of the dark elf's footsteps moving away through the snow.
For a very long time, all he can hear is his own heartbeat.
And then... Something else?
...A traveler?
Summoning the last dregs of his strength he raises a trembling, bloodied hand into the air, and forces his ragged breath into words.
"H- hel. Help.. Help me..."
-------------------
In your travels across Bleakrock (or any snowy area, really), you chance upon what appears to be the scene of a small battle. Tracks lead to and from a small cave midway up the slope, and a single trail makes it's way away in a different direction. Three bodies lie in bloodied snow before the cave's entrance. Two fur-garbed rangers, and a single Nord warrior. All three appear dead.
If you are drawn in by this sight, or perhaps by the prospect of loot or a cave to explore, when you move near the Nord's hand will raise from the snow and he will call out for aid.
"Aye," Drayveth says easily, "Right at the back of that cave there, the treasure we're after."
Kieg's brow furrows. "...You're sure? This close to the town?"
"Aye, aye." The dark elf grins. "Trust me. On you go, big man. You take the lead, I'll back you up."
"How come the rest of the boys aren't with us?"
"Enough questions. You wouldn't understand anyway."
Kieg purses his lips. He feels uneasy. But Drayveth is right. He wouldn't understand. And the gang needs a score like this. Things've been thin all winter.
He readies his waraxe with a competent flourish. "Alright. Let's go."
A cave like this probably has beasts in it. Trolls, maybe. His expression perks up. Trolls were great fun to fight. But despite the anticipation of a good battle, Kieg still can't get his mind settled. Something about this is -wrong-.
He is still puzzling over it as he draws even with the entrance of the cave. Pitch black in there. He grunts and unslings his pack and is fishing in it for a torch when he hears Drayveth's cotton-soft footfalls in the snow behind him. He is in the middle of turning to see what the Dunmer wants when he feels a splitting pain race up his side.
"Wha-?"
"Sorry big man." From the corner of his vision Kieg sees Drayveth's white teeth glinting. "Nothing in that cave but your tomb."
Kieg grunts as the Dark Elf pulls the dagger out of his side. The wound's blaring pain is already fading, and Kieg knows that means poison. Really bad poison.
Kieg curses and turns, swinging on instinct, but his axe splits only the air. Drayveth has already skipped back out of range. The Dunmer puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle.
On cue, two arrows fly from the blackness of the cave entrance, one glancing off Kieg's armor and the other snicking through the skin of his exposed shoulder. A moment later the shooters emerge from the cave, twin figures in unfamiliar garb.
"You're done for already, big man." Drayveth sneers, flipping the knife in his hand. "Enough poison on this to kill a netch. Do something smart for once; lay down and die. I'll let you go peaceful. No undignified thrashing about."
"...Why?" Kieg is more confused than angry. He'd been loyal, hadn't he?
Drayveth shrugs. "We all got bounties on our heads, Kieg. I'm cashing in yours. Those friends of mine there'll claim you body for the reward, and I'll get a tasty slice. Don't worry, I won't waste it."
The shooters nock more arrows.
"Lay down and die, big man." Drayveth smirks. "It's for the best. We both know you aren't cut out for bandit life. Your heart's too big. Your head's too dull."
Kieg grits his teeth. "I don't wanna to hurt you, Dray, but if you don't stop this, I'm gonna to have to."
Drayveth barks out a derisive laugh. "Try it."
Kieg nods sadly. "Okay." He tightens his grip on his axe. "I'll try not to kill you." Abruptly he rushes the dark elf, with quickness that might surprise anyone who didn't know him. Drayveth is expecting it though, and darts backwards. Twin pangs flare in Kieg's back as arrowheads strike his armor. That was going to turn into a problem real quickly. He continues his advance and grabs for Dray with his offhand. He can snag the dark elf and beat some sense into him gently, maybe. Drayveth flicks out with his knife and cuts a deep red line across the warrior's palm. Kieg grimaces. "Stop it!"
More arrows rain against his armor. One strikes true, deep. This wasn't fair. He'd never done anything wrong!
"STOP IT!!" He turns and screams at the archers. Another arrow bounces from his pauldron. Drayveth moves in behind him and again drives a blade into his back. Kieg twists and grabs for Drayveth with his bloodied hand, this time catching him at the elbow. He lifts the shocked Dunmer by the arm and snarls into his face before slamming him down into the snow with all his might. "Stay down.. We'll talk about this.."
An arrow strikes him in the abdomen. Roaring, he flings his axe end over end through the air at the shooter. He's never been great at this but this time he's lucky; the axehead thunks solidly into the bowman's chest and he drops straight down into the snow.
Kieg experiences a moment of elation, followed by a familiar pang of regret. Once again, he didn't think things through. He still needs that axe.
He ducks in time to avoid the surviving bowman's next shot and forges back towards the cave entrance to retrieve his weapon.
He's moving a little slower now. Something is wrong in his chest. It's getting hard to breathe, like the air is turning liquid. He doesn't dodge the next arrow in time and it strikes somewhere deep, sends reverberations through his chest through the hazy numbing of Drayveth's poison. This is looking... Bad.
But he's made it to the axe. He yanks it free with a twist of his wrist and just barely manages to get it in the way of the next shot; the arrowhead sparks and shatters against the flat of the axehead. The surviving bowman, a Bosmer, has held his ground thinking he would easily drop his wounded target. Now the wood elf is backpedaling with panic written on his face. His feet tangle beneath him and he falls backward. On a normal day Kieg could cross the distance and be on him in an instant, but now it is all he can do to stagger to the wood elf and finish him before he has time to fight his way out of the snow.
Kieg pulls the axe free and breathes out an exhausted sigh. One hell of a day, and he hadn't even had a proper breakfast yet.
Sudden pain all along his back and side. And again. And again. Oh yes. Drayveth. He'd forgotten about that. Bad mistake, that was.
The dark elf hisses malevolent fury into his ear through clenched teeth. "You damned idiot! You ruined everything!!"
Keig turns, reaches for Drayveth's hand, misses. The poison running in his veins makes him feel slow. Clumsy. Sleepy. The world is reeling. He takes a step and falls. The snow rushes up to his cheek and his eyes close as his head hits the ground. He can't move. It's all he can do to stay awake.
He hears the sound of Drayveth spit. He wants to move, but his body won't listen.
Some time later, he hears the sound of the dark elf's footsteps moving away through the snow.
For a very long time, all he can hear is his own heartbeat.
And then... Something else?
...A traveler?
Summoning the last dregs of his strength he raises a trembling, bloodied hand into the air, and forces his ragged breath into words.
"H- hel. Help.. Help me..."
-------------------
In your travels across Bleakrock (or any snowy area, really), you chance upon what appears to be the scene of a small battle. Tracks lead to and from a small cave midway up the slope, and a single trail makes it's way away in a different direction. Three bodies lie in bloodied snow before the cave's entrance. Two fur-garbed rangers, and a single Nord warrior. All three appear dead.
If you are drawn in by this sight, or perhaps by the prospect of loot or a cave to explore, when you move near the Nord's hand will raise from the snow and he will call out for aid.