Vixere
Cath
EpicRoleplay
Muttonhawk
RevekaRed
Noctis
Cleveraptor
Aristocles
Eviledd1984Upon initial inspection opening the book, it seemed like it may have been a draft of a biography. There were notes in places, and it was uncertain if it had been published widely. The author was anonymous, and most strangely, the date it was claimed to have been written was still many years in the future. For Fendros, though, the story it told was anything but unfamiliar: it was his. It began explaining his background and history in Cheydinhal, though only for a few pages and in quite general terms. It only grew more detailed once he met Meesei’s pack. It described his packmates, though in terms of their personalities, they did seem more like what they were now, rather than what they were back then. As the story moved through the major events of the pack’s journeys and the progress of the war, it appeared that the author was not someone who had firsthand knowledge, but perhaps had known someone who did.
Regardless, over the course of a few chapters, the book told of much of what he had been through over the years. Many private details were omitted, like Ahnasha’s turn to necromancy, or his rocky reunion with his father. Still, from their terrible defeat in Elsweyr, to their struggles against the soul-tearing gas in the years after, to eventually turning the tide with the assistance of Ariel’s cure, the major points of the story were all there. There was, of course, an entire chapter dedicated to the final battle in the Fields of Regret. It told of the battle from multiple perspectives, including ones Fendros had not yet had time to hear from anyone else. There were pages of what seemed like a firsthand account of one of the soldiers that had been fighting down in the valley, one that might have even been hard to believe had Fendros not been there himself. Alongside the rank-and-file soldiers, there were lycan spirits from the Hunting Grounds, Dwemer automatons and tamed Chaurus, and packs of transformed lycanthropes acting almost as cavalry. He particularly expressed disgust at the undead brought by an Argonian vampire, yet could not help but to appreciate the irony that, later in the battle, the powerful magic of that same vampire protected him from a fireball that surely would have incinerated him. And despite all of that, what the soldier was perhaps most surprised by was how Imperial and Dominion troops had, by the circumstances of the war, been forced to join and fight together. He had clearly felt reservations going into the battle, but he noted how quickly all of those worries had vanished when it came time to face down the Daedric hordes. Against such a foe, it seemed that those political divisions had been as far away as Mundus itself.
Though there was plenty to say about the battle itself, the story did soon focus back onto its conclusion. The author’s source placed great emphasis on the importance of the former Champion’s sacrifice, to use the power of the Staff of Magnus to create an explosion of magical power that could sweep away the Daedra threatening to overwhelm them. There was also, as the author noted, a particular insistence from the source to describe sacrifice of Do’rhajul at the apex of the tower during the final confrontation: the former servant of Vile who redeemed himself by ensuring the Godhunter could reach his prey. Out of all of it, though, out of the arrogance and power of Clavicus Vile, and the clashing of gods between him and Hircine. Out of the cleverness of using Barbas to weaken his other half, and the final, desperate push through an army of summoned Daedra, the author seemed to take the greatest pride in focusing on the Godhunter himself. There were multiple paragraphs dedicated to describing every detail of his final charge to cleave his axe into Vile’s being, from his appearance, to even guesses at what thoughts must have been going through his mind. Not all were accurate, but it set the scene effectively all the same. A mortal, a Champion, leading the charge to bring about the defeat of a god.
There was nothing more in the book after the defeat of Clavicus Vile, yet curiously, it definitely seemed like there should have been. The story cut off abruptly after their return from Oblivion, and upon closer inspection, it looked as if every page afterwards had been ripped out of the book. In its place, there was a folded up parchment: a short note that, unlike the rest of the book, was written in Meesei’s handwriting.
I thought you might prefer to write the rest yourself.
Regardless, over the course of a few chapters, the book told of much of what he had been through over the years. Many private details were omitted, like Ahnasha’s turn to necromancy, or his rocky reunion with his father. Still, from their terrible defeat in Elsweyr, to their struggles against the soul-tearing gas in the years after, to eventually turning the tide with the assistance of Ariel’s cure, the major points of the story were all there. There was, of course, an entire chapter dedicated to the final battle in the Fields of Regret. It told of the battle from multiple perspectives, including ones Fendros had not yet had time to hear from anyone else. There were pages of what seemed like a firsthand account of one of the soldiers that had been fighting down in the valley, one that might have even been hard to believe had Fendros not been there himself. Alongside the rank-and-file soldiers, there were lycan spirits from the Hunting Grounds, Dwemer automatons and tamed Chaurus, and packs of transformed lycanthropes acting almost as cavalry. He particularly expressed disgust at the undead brought by an Argonian vampire, yet could not help but to appreciate the irony that, later in the battle, the powerful magic of that same vampire protected him from a fireball that surely would have incinerated him. And despite all of that, what the soldier was perhaps most surprised by was how Imperial and Dominion troops had, by the circumstances of the war, been forced to join and fight together. He had clearly felt reservations going into the battle, but he noted how quickly all of those worries had vanished when it came time to face down the Daedric hordes. Against such a foe, it seemed that those political divisions had been as far away as Mundus itself.
Though there was plenty to say about the battle itself, the story did soon focus back onto its conclusion. The author’s source placed great emphasis on the importance of the former Champion’s sacrifice, to use the power of the Staff of Magnus to create an explosion of magical power that could sweep away the Daedra threatening to overwhelm them. There was also, as the author noted, a particular insistence from the source to describe sacrifice of Do’rhajul at the apex of the tower during the final confrontation: the former servant of Vile who redeemed himself by ensuring the Godhunter could reach his prey. Out of all of it, though, out of the arrogance and power of Clavicus Vile, and the clashing of gods between him and Hircine. Out of the cleverness of using Barbas to weaken his other half, and the final, desperate push through an army of summoned Daedra, the author seemed to take the greatest pride in focusing on the Godhunter himself. There were multiple paragraphs dedicated to describing every detail of his final charge to cleave his axe into Vile’s being, from his appearance, to even guesses at what thoughts must have been going through his mind. Not all were accurate, but it set the scene effectively all the same. A mortal, a Champion, leading the charge to bring about the defeat of a god.
There was nothing more in the book after the defeat of Clavicus Vile, yet curiously, it definitely seemed like there should have been. The story cut off abruptly after their return from Oblivion, and upon closer inspection, it looked as if every page afterwards had been ripped out of the book. In its place, there was a folded up parchment: a short note that, unlike the rest of the book, was written in Meesei’s handwriting.
I thought you might prefer to write the rest yourself.