20th of Sun’s Height
Morning came quick for Sevine, as she roused herself from the warmth of Do’Karth’s arms. Oddly enough, after her conversation with Roze at the end of the duel, Leif was nowhere to be found, or at least he avoided the inn completely while she busied herself with composing another letter to Liliana, passing on her blessing of well-being, as well as Roze’s own blessing. The rest of the evening, she fiddled with her armor, oiling the weathered leathers, and even took her axe to the grindstone to have it sharpened. With that accomplished, her pack assembled once more, and her gear in the best of any condition that it could be, she spent the rest of her evening relaxing by the fireside at the inn. So when morning came, and word traveled around breakfast that they were to assemble on the outskirts of Dawnstar to be divvied up into the appropriate groups, she made her way out of Windpeak Inn, and followed the rest of the group to the designated area with Do’Karth at her side, her hand entwined in his..
Once they were all present, orderly and settled down, Daelin, the Bosmer scout, leapt upon a rock and demanded attention. He called out the names of those that would accompany him on his mission. Marcel, Jorwen, Daixanos, Rhasha’Dar, Keegan, and herself were the named members of the company. Before she shuffled forward, she threw her arms about Do’Karth’s neck and buried her face into his shoulder, planting a delicate kiss upon his collarbone.
“Mara keep you safe, and bring you back to me.” Sevine said as she dropped her arms, while one hand caressed his cheek, before she planted another kiss on his snout. With that, she turned away from him and headed over to Daelin to hear the details for the mission.
Moreover, when those chosen for this mission had assembled before Daelin, he addressed her first, calling her yet again by her Name, though she couldn't blame the Bosmer, only Do’Karth, and well Elmera too, knew of her distaste for the Name. Although, she did feel a swell of pride upon hearing that he specifically requested her for her skills, at least she would be of use on this mission. She would do her best, that much was certain.
The mission itself sound peculiar, and she first believed the source of the strange burnings to be a work of rogue fire mages upsetting the spriggans of the forest, or even, a fight between flame atronachs, though the latter part made little to no sense, as she could only recall that those types of atronachs had to be summoned. Then again, she could be wrong, as she didn't no much in regards to magick.
When the group set out, Daelin had Sevine and Daixanos scout ahead together, their eyes peeled for any clues. After so many leagues traveled, one would report back their findings, and Dax was the first to do so. The Argonian and the Huntress did not travel close to one another, rather they spread out to cover more ground, but they did remain within shouting distance of one another in case any tragedy were to befall them. By the time Daelin came to join her, the morning breeze was cool, but warmer than normal, a sign of fair weather approaching, a change in the season, and she began to take note of the increase of woodland animals.
Sevine had chosen to leave her shield behind in this excursion, as it was a scouting expedition, yet with her, she carried her bow and quiver set, along with her axe tethered on her hip, and her dagger just beneath that. In the events of yesterday, after the grisly duel, and after her conversation with Roze, Sevine had found time to take some time to visit the local apothecary again, this time, she had a small clay jar prepared, and it was full of green paste; her war paint. Now, she sported a thin green stripe, stretching from cheek bone to cheek bone. The minimal application of camouflage helped to disrupt the pallid color of her skin to those in the wilderness. Granted, unlike those that sported a full face of intricate camouflage, Sevine opted for a simple pattern, one she would waste no time in applying.
Everywhere she looked, butterflies flitted from flower to flower, even on occasion, the gentle buzz of a bee pollinating flowers could be heard, and more present, the precious sound of birdsong. The prominent silence soothed her mind, or rather, the lack of people conversing, and once again, she felt as if she were one in her realm. The woods were her home, and she knew how to use them to her advantage, her footfalls were silent as she picked her way over fallen branches and across patches of decaying leaves. Here and there, as she moved through the undergrowth of the pine forest, she could spot game trails, and the near hidden impression of animal prints in the dirt, even so much as identifying particular plants used in alchemy, the mountain flowers were fairly common, and so were snow and juniper berries. For now, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Sevine headed back to report in for Daixanos, and so that he could take her place.
When they gathered for lunch, Sevine had a light meal of bread and water from her water skin, not wishing to weigh herself down with a heavy meal. She couldn't help but to laugh at the tall tales that were told in an attempt to lighten the mood, but asides from that Sevine kept to herself, her eyes constantly scanning the circle of the clearing where they had settled. While she sought for unseen foes lingering in the shadows of the afternoon sun, she noticed how her thoughts ventured to studying the breathtaking beauty of the Pale. Even from her seated position on a bed of pine needles, she could see the mountain passes that towered in the distance, and a part of her heart yearned to traverse those familiar footpaths once more. Three times, during the length of the war, Ralki the Bear led their squadron through the mountain passes to join forces with other Stormcloaks in need of reinforcements. These mountain ranges were colder in temperature, and the snow never seemed to melt in those high reaching passes.
After the luncheon fire had been extinguished, they carried on. This time Sevine and Daelin taking the lead again in the scouting effort. She took note of an immediate change in the atmosphere, the scent of burnt wood mixed in with the late afternoon wind, and it left her mouth dry. During lunch, she had taken the time to tear a swath of cheesecloth in anticipation for the burnt section of forest, wetted it, and now sported it around her face, covering her nose and mouth to prevent any ash being inhaled, which soon came in handy.
Trailing behind Daelin, and a bit to his left, Sevine noticed the distinct rise in the land and how the ground beneath her boots rose, they were climbing a ridge. Rather abruptly, she heard Daelin’s voice echoing. Strange it was, for she noticed the lack of forest life present, all animal noise had disappeared. There were no gentle fluttering of butterfly wings, no birdsong that rang through the forest’s canopy, and certainly no sign of any bear, wolf, or even deer to be found.
“Huntress. Fetch the group and bring them hear.” His words filled the eerie silence. She bade as he said, and turned back without another word to lead the others to the spot Daelin lingered.
Ten minutes later, with the rest of the members in tow, Sevine came to stand alongside the Bosmer scout, and here, she beheld the troubling sight beneath them. Far below, appeared a radius of burnt forest, some of the trees still smoldered, for thick white vapor rose from their smoking trunks. And further in, there was nothing, it seemed that some of the trees had been turned into complete ash.
Finally, Daelin gave his orders, and Sevine split off from the group, bow in hand with an arrow already notched, resting on the bowstring. Before he could finish giving off orders for the rest of the company, a shout filled the silent area.
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
Her head snapped in the direction the shout came from, towards the south-western region of the circle, she spotted a Nord man, perhaps near Jorwen’s age, come bolting through the fringes of the forest and into the clearing. She did not take him to be a bandit, for his manner of dress spoke of a civilian, perhaps a farmer, or even a miner. Yet, she was surprised to see him release a spout of fire from his hand, and dispel what she assumed to be a horde of angry bees. The man immediately took notice of the company members for he began shouting at them.
“HEY! HEY!” The Nord man sprinted for them, and she raised her bow in defense, concerned that he might use his flames on them. But then, trailing behind him, she understood what he was shouting for.
Behind him were a flock of five angry Spriggans, including an even angrier Spriggan matron, and moving forward were a pack of four wolves, rather malnourished in appearance. Unexpectedly, as if by command of the matron, under a gesture of her branch-like arm, the wolves sprang forward on the Nord, the sound of their fearsome snarls filling the surrounding area.
“Move to intercept!” Daelin’s command rang out, and Sevine, already somewhat distanced from the group, leapt away in an attempt to draw the wolves towards her. The Bosmer’s arrow struck down the first wolf that attempted to finish off the Nord when she had released her own. The blowing wind turned the direly aimed shot, and the steel barb of her arrow buried itself in the front leg muscle of one the wolves. That did it. She readied another arrow, or at least tried. The arrow in her hand slipped from her fingers, and as she fumbled for another arrow, the painful bite of the wolf she had struck bit straight through her leather bracer, the fangs piercing her skin, biting deep into the muscle. Seering, white-hot pain spread from the inflicted wound, down to her fingertips and travelled up the length of her arm.
Dropping to the ground, for even though the wolf was malnourished, the beast still held a formidable grip on her forearm with surprising strength. She cried out in agony, as she fell back from her knees and onto her back, teeth gritted in sheer desperation as a cloud of ash flew up around her. The forearm the wolf held in her mouth was her axe arm, so she could not reach for her axe to fend off the wolf. Just as she found the strength to plant a firm boot into the belly of the beast that held her captive, she felt another wolf sink its fangs into her ankle, biting clean through her leather boot. Writhing in pain, she flailed in the ash with her free limbs, throwing black clumps of the sandy material with her free hand in a wild attempt to blind the first wolf still clinging to her forearm, and trying to kick off the other with her free leg. Above her loomed the wolf, its golden eyes gleaming with a fierce hunger, the upper lip curled back to reveal the yellowed fangs that sank into the flesh of her arm. She managed a glance down at her captive foot and saw a similar sight, the wolf there held fast to her ankle, shaking her entire leg as if it were a ragdoll. Fear engulfed her entirely, would this be it? Would this be the end of the Huntress? Taken down by two mangy wolves in an ashen forest?
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