MacabreFox

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@MacabreFox

Would love to, but I've expended my mojo on the opening post of my own roleplay already and I'll be away this weekend. Next week?

@Hank

Sounds just fine to me.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Oh boy, this is too juicy to pass up. @MacabreFox, wanna collab after this tense situation is over and make that Niernen/Leif conversation happen?

@Hank

Sure thing! Dervs and I already finished our fight collab so we can jump right in if you want!

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

<Snipped quote by MacabreFox>

Dax's reaction

@POOHEAD189

Leif's CS will explain everything ;)

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Whoops. Posted in the wrong tab - don't worry folks, Roze's post can be edited into that.

@MacabreFox

Here's a separate pad as we're just doing a short one. :)

@MiddleEarthRoze

Headed to the Epad now.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@MacabreFox

Sounds good, Roze wanted to talk to him and/or Do'Karth bout the love triangle shit. Want to do a mini-collab for their lil chat, or shall I just keep it vague in my post? Up to you. :)

@MiddleEarthRoze

I'm down for a mini collab if you'd like!

@Peik ask Dervs if you can join for the bottle throwing :D bystanders are welcome to watch.

Also, I tried to make him jerk-y as possible. Because Gaston is a jerk

Kidding, but Gaston was inspiration for this scene.

"No one storms like Leif, no one is a jerk like Leif." _{i mean wut}

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@MiddleEarthRoze I would suggest Leif.

_{But he's kinda whiny too}

Also, I updated the opinion section of both Leif's and Sevine's CS.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

A Calm Before the Storm

24th of Sun’s Height

---

The journey to Dawnstar left Sevine physically and emotionally drained. How she even managed to lift one foot after another confounded her. She remembered little of the events from the journey, save from the blurred image of the ground underfoot. Without her axe, as she lost it in the fight with the Kamal ranger, her level of vulnerability skyrocketed. As she trudged on, she heard only snippets of Keegan’s anger towards Daelin. While her body screamed for her to stop, to seek rest, but a voice in the back of her mind kept her going. ’For Do’Karth. Make it back to see him. If I can but see his face again, everything will be fine.’ That train of thought is what made her ignore the fire in her ribs.

Needless to say, when the newly contracted guards of Dawnstar appeared from the bushes, Sevine had little energy to speak. She welcomed the water, it cooled her hot tongue. With their aid, they escorted them to Fort Fellhammer where they spent the night uncomfortably sleeping on an empty ore vein. With supplies modestly replenished, the group set out the next morning. Along the path to Dawnstar, one member of the Braves tried to strike up a conversation with her, the nature of which only further soured her attitude. So when he questioned the reason to keep fighting she snapped, perhaps a bit harsh than what was appropriate.

“Why? You want to know why?” She began, her voice low and hoarse, “We keep fighting so that we can protect our land. This is our country. And when your country is under attack, you do not tuck your tail between your legs and make off like a beaten whelp. You stand your ground, and you bare your fangs. There is no glory in war.” She said through gritted teeth, her thoughts flickered to Jorwen. Bile rose in her throat, forcing her to stop in her tracks. How could she have let him be apprehended by the Kamals? Guilt ravished her while a fire burned in her eyes as hot tears threatened to spill, yet she forced herself to speak over the lump in her throat, “There is no glory in war, but there is honor and pride. And those come from protecting the weak and innocent, the infirm, the elderly, the women and children. That is why I keep fighting. I fight because there are others that cannot. I fight because I have someone I love, and because of that, I must survive. That is why I keep going. That is the point of it all.”

By that late afternoon, the remaining survivors trudged into Dawnstar. For the most part, Sevine was relieved to see that Asper and her chitlin shield hadn’t gone missing. She checked him over, and found him to be in good health. She stayed with him for a few hours, his presence providing a comfort she hadn’t felt since the night Do’Karth and her had chosen to share the same bed. The warmth radiating from his massive body soothed her somewhat, though it did nothing to obliterate the pain inside. Her wrist and ankle had swelled, while the surrounding edges of the bite marks were white and spongy, hinting at an infection. The money she received as payment wasn’t as much she had expected, but at least she had something. With the warm air of summer now present, Sevine opted out of renting a room at the inn. She pitched a tent outside, and set off to buy a health potion. Instead of stocking up like she normally would have, she purchased the cheapest potion available.

For the remainder of the evening Sevine settled into her tent as her eyes lingered on the bay, watching for any sign of the Kyne’s return. What had become of Do’Karth? Had he survived the voyage? Did they encounter any dangers as their group had? Was he hurt? Was he dead? Her mind became her own private torture cell, the worrying thoughts over his well-being placed her in a state of unfeeling blankness, a shell of a person. She passed the evening alone, refusing to join in with the others. More importantly, she worried over Jorwen. How would they break the news to Halla, or worse, to Solveig? The mixture of emotions roiling through her allowed her no peace, she had lost her appetite days ago. When night had fallen and thousands of twinkling stars emerged, her eyes grew heavy from gazing up at the twin moons, Masser and Secunda, there she settled onto her bedroll and knew no more.

The Storm Breaks

25th of Sun’s Height

---

Leif kept to himself on the voyage home to Dawnstar, though he did check on Elmera when he saw her, and shared a peculiar conversation with Roze. The poor dunmer could barely stand from the wound in her thigh, when he had the energy he offered his healing spells to help with the pain and to speed the recovery. He watched Do’Karth from a distance, weary of his interactions between Niernen. Even he could see how she reacted around him, like a smitten maid fallen head-over-heels for a soldier. Though he kept his opinions to himself, a small part of him, though he refused to acknowledge it openly, was relieved to know that Do’Karth survived the escape from the frigate unharmed. Sevine would be happy.

From him, there were no songs to be sung on this return voyage. He gave a helping hand where he could, cooking, swabbing the deck, hoisting the sails, tending to the rescued prisoners wounds, and keeping an eye out for any sign of frigates seeking to destroy them. Thankfully, on his end, the journey to Dawnstar remained uneventful. It wasn’t until early midday when the Kyne’s Tear docked in the harbor. He noticed that the Courtesan had returned. He made a mental note to speak with Atgeir later in the day, for now, he set off into town.

Listening to the people of Dawnstar revealed that the group sent to investigate the mysterious fires had returned, though in poor shape. To his dismay, he learned that the Red-Bear was not amongst them. Some Braves whispered of his fate, possibly killed by the Kamals, though none could verify his death. He headed straight for Windpeak Inn, hoping to find Sevine there before Do’Karth did. He spotted the Khajiit and quickened his pace. Flinging the wooden door open to the inn he let his eyes adjust as the sunlight filtered into the dimly lit tavern. There were some members of the group from the fire mission inside, though he could not see her familiar coppery hair amongst them. His heartbeat quickened out of fear, had she succumbed? If she had… only he was to blame. He left abruptly and scoured the rest of the town.

Leif found her. Sitting outside of her tent with her head in her hands, he could tell something was wrong. He burst into a run, she was alive. That was all that mattered now. “Sevine!” He shouted, he would no longer fight the joy pulsing through him. He watched as she lifted her head from her hands, weary green eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him. Then, her brows furrowed as out of concern. When he reached her, he knelt beside her, his chest heaving from the physical exertion as well as from excitement.

“Leif…” She began, he could hear the tiredness in her voice, but he cut her off.

“Are you well?” He asked, his eyes roaming over her. It did not take him long to discover the bandages around her wrist and ankle, as she had cast off her bracers and boots. “What happened?” He demanded, taking her hand in his, while the other unraveled the linen.

“I… stop. Leave me alone.” She snapped, and yanked her arm away from him.

“You’re hurt. Let me help you.” He said in a pleading voice, reaching for her arm again.

“I said stop!” She thundered, her eyes darkened in annoyance. “I am fine… where is Do’Karth? Is he alive? Is he hurt?” Sevine winced from the sharp pain in her side, and placed a hand over her ribs. Earlier that morning, she had lifted her tunic and discovered a motley of dark bruises along with a degree of mild inflammation. Now, she was in no mood to be trifled with.

Leif merely gazed back at her, stung by her harsh tone. The dagger in his heart twisted, he regretted coming to see her now. “Your lover,” he spat with anger, “lives.” He rose to his feet, eyes narrowed into slits as he glared down at her. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Sevine. You do not deserve to be called the Huntress when you openly fornicate with a cat.” Her rejection a second time around wounded him deeper, he had always taken care of her injuries. His hands curled into fists, he wanted to strike someone, to take his anger out on anything would alleviate the distress suffocating him. He couldn’t bring himself to argue with her anymore, so he turned away from her, yet, lo and behold, when he turned about he came face-to-face with Do’Karth.

“You.” He took a menacing step towards Do’Karth and jabbed a finger into the breast of his budi. “How dare you.”

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Attention One and All:

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The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Homecoming

I watched her leave, and I watched her return a changed woman.

Thick gray clouds blanketed the sky over Falkreath bringing an unwelcome chill to the air. Nevertheless, I had finished my tasks for the day and took it upon myself to soften the aches in my muscles with a mugful of ale. All around me were familiar faces of the townsfolk, I knew every person here. Most of them knew my ma and pa, and I grew up with their children. There were weary faces this day, news reached us that the war had ended days before. The celebration of the Stormcloaks winning back Skyrim had had mixed reactions amongst the folk here. Those who had supported the Empire changed their attitudes weeks before the war came to a close, and even now they were tight-lipped and grim-faced. Even now, the atmosphere in Dead Man’s Drink held a tension unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

But I knew.

I knew why these people wore the expressions of mourners at a funeral pyre. They had yet to learn who had perished in the final battle at Solitude. There were countless men and women alike that had gone off to fight in the war. Edith Bright-Wings, Arnbjorg Cracked-Tooth, Helgi Thorn-Raker, Kjeld Stone-Crusher, Thranvir Fire-Nose and Sevine Varg-t’uk were the first to volunteer to aid in the fight against the Empire. Now, we waited in earnest for the day they would stroll through the gates of Falkreath, alive or dead. I raised the warm mug of ale to my lips and let the liquid wet the back of my throat. Out of nowhere, the door to the tavern flew open. Heads turned including my own, thundering cries erupted from everyone surrounding me. I gave a cry of surprise as well. There in the doorway stood our soldiers, alive, in the flesh. Chairs tipped backwards as they scrambled to welcome them home.

“Edith! Oh my dear girl!” Came the cry from her father as he wrestled through to crowd to reach her. I noticed immediately that not all of Falkreath’s warriors had returned. Amongst the ones present were Edith, Kjeld, Thranvir and Sevine. While other patrons brushed past me, I awaited my turn, that’s all I could do. Everyone embraced those that had returned home, tears were shed, cries of anguish and joy mixed together. My hands were cold, my head spun, I needed to sit down, but I refused. Then, I saw her. My sister. She pushed her way through the throngs of people, several of which clasped her on the shoulder and said things like, “It’s the Huntress!” and “Welcome home, Sevine.” or “Your father would be proud of you.”

She had changed. I could see it. Three years away at war, what more could I expect? Her shoulders drooped, her green eyes that were always bright with a fire had dimmed. Even her copper hair had dulled. The skin over her cheeks were pulled tight, and there were new lines on her face, lines that had not been there when she left. She wore her Stormcloak blue armor, an axe at her hip and her long bow strapped under a shield. My eyes burned as a strained smile crossed her lips.

“Little sister.” I lost it, the sound of her voice after so many years pushed me over the edge. The lump in my throat made it hard to breathe, much less speak. She pulled me to her chest, her arms wrapping tight around me. I couldn’t hold it back anymore, so I buried my face into her, I let myself cry, I didn’t care. No. She was home now. And that’s all I had ever wanted. “Oh Lili.” Her strong arms held me tighter, one hand stroking my back just like she used to when I was a child. She rested her chin atop my head, rocking me back and forth.

When I found the courage, I lifted my chin and found her own eyes red with tears, “I missed you so much.” Her face split into a smile as she chuckled, she placed a hand on my head and ruffled my hair.

“I am home now.” Sevine stooped down and kissed my brow, her lips were cold against my flushed skin.

“I heard so much about you, about your heroic deeds.” I said, perking up at the thought that my sister, Sevine, had earned a Name for herself. At the mention of my words, a dark cloud crossed her features, but passed within seconds. “Is something wrong?” I asked, I knew my sister too well.

“I… am tired.” She said with a heavy sigh, it reminded me of pa, how he sighed after a long day of tending to the garden. “Shall we go home?”

“You don’t want to stay and celebrate? Valga promised a feast whenever our soldiers returned home. She’s already run off to fetch Solaf and Bolund to help.” I glanced around, watching as Valga darted out of the door to the inn.

“No, little sister. Let us go.” Her face screwed up into an odd expression, one that I couldn’t identify. I had an inkling something had happened that she withheld from me. I relented with a nod, I wasn’t going to argue with her, not now of all times. Together, we strolled out of Dead Man’s Drink and made our way back home.

For the most part, I was surprised that Asper had come home too. The dark bay stallion appeared lean in my eyes, and like my sister, his coat had lost his luster. Sevine hoisted herself into the saddle, and extended her arm out to me. I took her hand in mine, noticing that her hands were cold and calloused. With one pull, she had me behind her, and at the cluck of her tongue, we set off down the road at a fast trot. What would have taken close to an hour, we made the trek home in thirty minutes. We turned off the road near Pine Watch and onto a dirt path well-worn from Pa’s wagon. My stomach plummeted at the realization that I had yet to tell her of the tragic news. Days before, our father had passed away. He had a cough for months that would not leave him, and a fever in the last week that would not break. I had just sold a chicken to pay for his medicine when I returned home to find him not breathing. Were it not for the people of Falkreath checking on me, I would have had to bury our father alone.
We crested the hill where the pine trees cast us in shadows. With my arms wrapped tightly around her, I noticed that my sister’s scent had changed, she smelt… foreign to me. Like the earth and of steel. Even with my arms about her, she felt thinner. To our left, the pine trees thinned out into a clearing where our house stood. No smoke rose from the chimney, and the garden had become a wild jungle of weeds. My face grew hot from shame. I wanted to cry then, but I resisted the urge. I leapt off from Asper first and watched as Sevine dismounted. Her brows were furrowed, as if she sensed something amiss. She glanced once at me, before turning her attention back to the log and stone cabin. I watched her cross the clearing in long, powerful strides, where she pushed opened the door with a thunderous bang. I could see where I stood how her shoulders dropped, she disappeared inside. Her shouts echoed across the clearing, calling for our father. She emerged moments later, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.
“Lili-” She couldn’t finish her sentence, she must have seen the look on my face. I watched as my sister fell against the doorframe, a hand covering her face, she never wanted me to see her cry. I don’t know why. Within seconds, I crossed the clearing and wrapped my arms around her. She tried to push me away, but I held on tight. I regretted my decision then. I knew I should have told her when I first saw her. Eventually she quit fighting as I weaseled my way against her chest. As I rested my head on her chest, I could hear the struggle in her, how she fought back the tears, the anguish and turmoil rising in her.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered, if I could take her into my being to shield her from the pain, I would have done just that.

“How?” She croaked, her voice cracking through the grief. I inhaled, fighting past the lump in my own throat that made talking difficult.

“He had a cough that wouldn’t go. A fever that wouldn’t break. I went to town and sold a chicken, we didn’t have any money, and I bought him medicine. But when I returned…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish my own sentence. A sob escaped from my mouth as continued, “We buried him in the cemetery next to Ma.”

Later that night, we ate dinner in silence. Sevine used to tease me about my cooking, but tonight she said not a word, just stared languidly at the food on her plate. Even I found it difficult to eat, the food was tasteless and I could barely swallow a bite. Nevertheless, I cleaned up after dinner, and went to bed. As I lay in my bed, I tossed and turned restlessly on my mattress. I wanted this night to end, but I couldn’t unwind. Downstairs, I heard Sevine bustling around the room, I wondered what she was doing, but I didn’t bother to check. It would be best to leave her be, or so I thought. Each person dealt with grief in their own way.
I lost track of time, I think I slept, because I jumped at the sound of Sevine’s feet climbing the ladder to the loft. Night had fallen, casting the loft in absolute darkness. I could feel her presence lingering over the foot of my bed, was she angry with me? I couldn’t tell. I wanted to open my eyes, but I didn’t want her to know that I was awake. The floorboards creaked under her boots and I heard her sink into the bed across from me. I listened for a while, her breathing was shaky and unstable. I wanted to reach out to her, to tell her to come sleep with me like we used to when we were little. But tonight I refrained, she let out a trembling exhale where she sniffled. I knew she had been crying, and the urge to comfort her washed anew over me. I fell asleep from my own weariness, too tired from tending to the animals that day to stay awake any longer.

When I woke next to the grey light of dawn filling the house, I saw Sevine still asleep on her bed. And for the first time in a long time, she slept.

Here's my writing prompt

Ianus Congreatio: Secret societies, horror, and mystery in the shadows of Prague.

@MacabreFox I am sorry to hear that but understand that . You will always be welcome back should you change your mind or things get less busy.

@Astarael42

Thank you for understanding.