MacabreFox — Roleplayer Guild

Flight From Windhelm

Sun’s Height 5 – 1800
Leif’s House

	The events of Sun’s Height the 5th passed majorily uneventful, save for the continuation of the Kamal’s siege weapons. Everything from massive, ice balls, to the dead, were continually slung over the wall. Leif had returned to his house, with Ander in tow, to find Sevine chatting to a khajiit, who she introduced as Do’Karth. To his surprise, and dismay, she relayed to him the information of the days past accounts, including her run in with the Dawnguard, an action he did not agree with, and then the incident with the mob, along with the wound to her leg. She pushed him upstairs to change his clothes while she readied his bath, that was the least she could do for him. Poor man smelt like he had taken the liberty of bathing in piss and shit. Then, she went to fix up a plate of food for Ander, the man looked like he hadn’t eaten in months, for he was rag and bones. She also managed to scrounge around a new set of clothes for him, albeit, a little big on his bony frame, but she was sure he would fill them out with proper nutrition.

	When he had finished cleaning himself, and put a new change of clothes on, Leif came downstairs to find Sevine talking with Ashav. The leader of their company soon relayed the same information he had just informed Sevine of, he wanted to use Leif’s house as a fall-back point in case things went sour in the near future, particularly speaking if the Kamal’s managed to break through the walls, and slaughter the citizens of Windhelm like mindless sheep. He could hardly believe that Ashav thought his house would be of use but he readily agreed, if anything were to happen, it would be best to have the company gather in designated areas. Ashav also expressed that Jorwen’s house would be of use then as well, so as to spread out the amount of the members of the company. After Ashav’s departure, Leif pulled Sevine aside into the kitchen to explain his adventures in the sewer-ways below Windhelm. He informed her of the roll of parchment that Ander had, and even showed her the journal from the snake-charmer Argonian. She found his story incredulous, but did not doubt him.

Sun’s Height the 6th – 0700

	As luck would have it, by dawn the next day, the relative calm that had fallen across Windhelm, was broken by the occupation of the Kamal forces on the bridge. A clamor arose across the city, prompting Leif to leave his house by the persuasion of Sevine to find out what was going on. He made it to the walls to see the Kamal forces gathered on the great stone bridge. One of the Tamrelic captives came running across bearing a scroll. Once received by the side of Windhelm, it was discovered that the Kamal’s demanded a fight with Jarl Lodvemar. To his dismay, shortly after the messenger bore the message, it seemed that fate itself had abandoned the city of Windhelm, for the jarl accepted the agreement in hopes of defeating the Kamal commander that had been put forth. Within seconds of the fight starting, Lodvemar, in all of his glorious arraignment was brutally destroyed, frozen, and then blasted apart in orange and red bursts, then whatever remained of him, disintegrated with sparks of electricity. His naiive son had been on the walls and shouted for vengeance, for the sake of his father. Leif, having no desire to meet the same fate as Lodvemar, booked it back to his house, heart pounding in his throat as he raced through the streets, he could already hear the assault of the Kamal’s begin, and every step he took, the more he panicked that he would be struck down before he could tell the others of the travesty.

	When he burst through his front door, Sevine rose to her feet in concern. All color had washed from his face, while Leif’s blue eyes were as wide as saucers. The babbling of his words flew past her, she was unsure of what he was talking about, as she only caught the meaning of his words, the Kamal’s had killed the Jarl, they were all doomed as the city gates were opened up to let out those brave enough to face the certain doom of the snow demons. He grabbed his pack, all of his potion bottles, both empty and full, food, alchemical ingredients that were hung up to dry over the hearth were torn down and shoved into a sack-cloth. 

“We’ve got to go! Pack everything you can carry!” Leif babbled, he sounded like a madman in his frenzied state.

	Sevine followed suit, hobbling around on her wounded leg, packing her own rucksack in the same manner. It was during their frenzied array of packing did Ander explain that there were tunnels beneath the city, a network that the Thieves Guild were trying to rebuild for their own dark purposes. Several other members of the mercenary company had shown up at Leif’s doorstep, even Farid, and most were a mixture of frightened, concerned souls. Without much persuasion, Ander relayed the same information to them, and they unanimously agreed that the tunnels would be a safer bet to flee the city, than any other route. By the time the others were ready, it was late afternoon when Sevine, Leif, and Do’Karth scurried under a man-hole. They dropped into the sewers below to find Ander leading the group. Thankfully, Do’Karth had been kind enough to carry Sevine on his back through the deepest parts of the muck, primarily to prevent infection. Of course, Leif was not a happy man to see his most beloved carried around on the back of a khajiit. Regardless, in circumstances like this, he could not protest.

	When they came to the chasm, Leif grimaced at the sight of the rickety, wooden planks placed precariously across the black abyss. One misstep, and they would all be dead meat. Their company were the first ones across, granted their hurried rush from falling rocks, and the creaking of the planks beneath their feet. The vast majority of those that had come down into the network of the caverns made it across, however, as another cruel twist of fate, the bridge gave way, those on it fell to their deaths. The assembly of survivors carried on, the desire to live pushing them on. By now, Leif had taken Sevine from Do’Karth, in part of jealousy, but he was worried that the khajiit would not be able to keep pace with the group if he carried her. He held her tight against him, arm hooked fast around her torso, helping keep the weight off her leg. It felt like eternity, as the somber survivors maneuvered through the caverns, that is, until they came to the exit. From the looks of it, it led to a place Leif knew well. Anga’s Mill. There were two houses, and a saw mill. Yet, the dagger twist of fate revealed that the place was overrun with snow demons. Leif had little hope for Aeri, the woman that ran the mill had survived, unless she had surrendered. After a short round of hushed decision making, it was decided that they would wait until nightfall before making their advance under the cover of darkness. 

	Eventually the sun set, glowing red as blood on the western horizon, and when darkness had consumed the setting of the mill, their group advanced into the open, sticking to shadows, desperately trying to skirt around the Kamal’s. It really seemed that the Divine’s were not on their side tonight, for someone, Leif didn’t know who, gave away their presence with a sneeze. Immediately, Leif grabbed Sevine in his arms, as if he were carrying a bride over the threshold of his home, and raced for the cover of the woods across the clearing. Agonizing screams filled the air as he ran, others were not so lucky to make it as the Kamal’s mounts roared to life, fearsome, eight-legged bears rumbled towards them. Volleys of ice were targeted at stragglers. He didn’t know how long he ran for, his legs burned, his lungs felt like fire, but he kept running, afraid that they would fall victim to the clutches of the Kamal. He raced headlong through the cover of the darkened forest, miraculously he managed not to fall flat on his face, or drop the woman in his arms, he could never forgive himself if he failed to bring her to safety. Finally, he broke upon a dirt road, and followed up a steep hill, Sevine had kept her mouth shut the entire time, until she deemed them safe from harm.

“Leif! Put me down! I can walk just as well, you know.” She squirmed in his arms like a mewling kitten, eager to be released from its childish captor.

“Sevine, we’re not safe yet! Please. I know where we are, just let me get you there.” He pleaded, hot tears stinging his eyes as he held on tighter to her. She quieted her protests, and let him carry her the rest of the way until they made it to Nightgate Inn. In truth, she was surprised he knew the approximate location of the inn, but then again, Leif was born in Windhelm, to her, it wasn’t all that surprising that he knew his way around the Pale. As he carried her along in silence, others that had survived the onslaught of the Kamals began to appear ahead of them, or behind them. Ashav, Daelin, Edith, Farid, Sadri, Roze, Sagax, Rhasha, Do’Karth, Keegan, Jorwen, Solveig, Halla, Ander, Tsleeixth, and several others had made it to safety. He refused to set Sevine down despite her protests, and squirming, she could have clocked him a good one, but she feared reopening her stitches so soon. They walked on through the night until the break of day, and stopped briefly to do a headcount, they carried onto until nightfall when they finally came upon Nightgate Inn.

	His mouth was dry, and his lips were cracked as he came upon the pine needle covered ground floor. Crippling exhaustion overtook him, and he dropped to his knees, face slick with sweat. “Get me some water… I need some water, please.” He turned his face up at Sevine, his mouth hung agape while he panted for breath like a hot dog in the summer time heat. She dashed inside, and returned shortly bearing a filled water skein. As she fed him water slowly through the neck of the skin, a gentle neigh turned her attention. Outside the inn, was a familiar creature. Asper. Her mouth fell open in shock. She had forgotten all about him in the invasion of the Kamal! Relieved to see her mount alive, she forced the water skein into Leif’s hand and rushed to her horse. He had lost his saddle, which was to be expected, as the stable keep would have unsaddled him, and brushed him down for her, but still had his halter, albeit, lacking a set of reins.

“Asper! Oh, my precious Asper. How did you make it out here?” She cooed softly, running her hands along his muscles, feeling for any wounds, to her relief, she found none. “Huh? Did you run away when the Kamals came?” Rubbing his ear affectionately, Asper butted her hand, looking for treats. With her other hand, she scratched at his chin as she pressed her face into his mane. She had raised him since he was but a foal, and he had more sense than most men. It seemed, that by all the cruel ironies of fate that day, that the Divine’s had gifted him back to her. 

	As the hours of the day passed, head counts were taken, and to further her surprise, a group of caravaneers were on site, with what little coin she had, Sevine decided to save what she had for the upcoming days. Instead, she erected a tent, bringing out a roll of canvas from the bottom of her pack. It felt like home again once she finished, and when she had, Sevine simply crawled onto her bedroll, and fell asleep within minutes, the fear of not surviving the Kamal’s had overwhelmed her. Leif came to sit at the foot of the entrance once he polished off the water to guard her, so that others would not harass her.

	By Sun’s Height of the 8th, the mercenary company, and other survivors, more or less assembled, made their way for Dawnstar. Leif walked beside Sevine, as she rode bare-back atop Asper. She had taken the liberty of binding her pack, and his onto her mount’s back with some spare rope she managed to find at the inn.

	Over the next two days, the moons continued on in their crimson fashion since the arrival of the Kamals, and by late in the day of Sun’s Height of the 10th, they made for Windpeak Inn, unfortunately, space was limited. During the travel of the two days to Dawnstar, Sevine had kept relatively quietly, namely out of fear, she had never felt so scared in her life before. Not even during battle of the civil war, for she had fought against man. Fighting against the Kamal terrified her, for not even she, in her wounded state, could hold off a Kamal. That would require at least four others to do so. Yet, when they reached the inn, circles had formed under her eyes, as the uncertainty of her future kept her awake. For Leif, he was relieved to have arrived in Dawnstar. The Courtesan had docked several times on the return journey to Windhelm, and to his surprise, he learned that The Courtesan was docked in Dawnstar, along with his old-time crew members, Captain Atgeir Frost-Beard, Bjorn Strong-Fist, Halvar Rock-Jaw, and Orvar Red-Tree, he found them inside Windpeak Inn sharing a round of ale when he came into inquire about a room. Available rooms were short, leaving many of the newcomers to take to the floor, or to sleep in the chairs. It was overly crowded to say the least, but at least there was plenty of alcohol.

	Leif came outside to the porch of the inn, and found Sevine sitting along the far wall, eyes turned out to the sea. He patted her shoulder, and offered her a hot mugful of sweet honeyed mead. Her eyes lifted to look him in the eye, and she smiled something sorrowful as she accepted the liquor. Bringing the mead to her lips, she drank from it readily, Leif read her like a book, he knew what she needed to calm her nerves.

“Come inside when you get a chance, there are some fellows I would like you to meet.” Leif said, squeezing her shoulder before he disappeared back inside, leaving Sevine to her thoughts as she cradled the tankard in her hands.
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