A.I.I- Chapter 2, It All Falls Apart

  • Adult Themes- Bad Language

    Selafyn woke up to the smell of venison stew, his favourite meal. The whole night was mainly summed up of repairing the set of fur armour found on one of the orc hunters, he had also made a small sack of food for his future travels, adding frost salts to preserve them for the late future.

     

    Getting dressed and leaving his room he saw Balimund and Asbjorn were around the table beginning to eat their breakfast in a sullen mood. When his presence was noticed, Balimund perked up from his seat and said,

     

    “Hey, Selafyn. I know its your birthday and all but we need to talk.”

     

    This was strange, Balimund was usually quite a jovial and pragmatic person but now he was a completely different man. He quietly sat down and waited for someone to speak.

     

    “Well, I'm not going to sugar coat it but good news or bad news?”

     

    “Well bad news first.”

     

    “Well, I've had news from a contact, an ally from the Imperial army and a fellow smith like me his name is Beirand who works in Solitude now. He has informed me that the Thalmor have sent spies to cause a riot, saying that you are with them and that you are scouting this town out to see if it can be controlled by the Thalmor. You have until tonight to prepare to leave, I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen.”

     

    “Balimund, no need to apologise, its not your doing. So what's the good news?”

     

    “It's your birthday and we have gifts!!!”

     

    With that a big parcel was thrusted into his hands and he started to tear open the brown wrapping around it to reveal its contents and he shook it out holding it up to the light, amazed by the deep green of the cloth that it had been made from. The jacket was chased with brown thread, with an open collar and wide lapels in black. It was long enough to go past his knees, the material was durably thick. The inside was lined with downy mountain hare fur, soft and grey with a peppering of hazel. It was closed by simple wooden toggles and came with a deep peaked hood.

     

    “It should be long enough to keep you warm at night, and light enough to keep you agile. Its wool, so it will breathe well, but I rubbed oil into keep it waterproof, though wool is naturally water resistant itself.”

     

    “It’s perfect,”

     

    Selafyn breathed.

     

    “Oh, I also got you boots, made with elven leather, soft but durable. The very best kind.”

     

    “Many thanks Balimund, I will treasure these on my travels.”

     

    Balimund then pulled out a finely designed wooden box with nordic engravings. He opened it to reveal a scabbard and a dagger like weapon but it wasn't forged from metal but ice.

     

    “This has been in my family for generations as I have distant relations to the Skaal, who live off the coast of Morrowind and Skyrim on an island called Solstheim. Its called Stahlrim, also known as enchanted ice, works exactly like ebony. Since neither me or Asbjorn are going to out adventuring, it only seemed reasonable enough to bestow it onto you. I made sure it had a powerful enchantment on it.”

     

    “Wow, Balimund. This means a lot to have your heritage in my possession and don't worry. I will treasure this as if it were my own flesh and blood, thank you.”

     

    As he finished that sentence a rather long rectagonal parcel was placed into his hands which he gently opened, not to damage the gift inside. It was a bow, lacquered with clear varnish and string with a fine braid of conditioned rawhide. The wood was intricately carved, the two ends curving in and then outwards at the ends, for extra power when bent back.

     

    The wood was yew, an expensive timber that Balimund must have purchased from a trader the year before; it did not grow out in the Rift. He had treated and dyed it so that the usually pale bow had become grey, preventing it from catching the eye when the hunter crouched in the shadows. It was a beautiful and valuable weapon, the kind a master huntsman would pay through the nose to own.

     

    Selafyn smiled and looked up at Balimund, giving silent thanks to him. It must have taken him months to make, working on it in secret when Selafyn was out hunting.

     

    “I do have some more stuff for this afternoon but for now go around town and ask for help from people, over the four years you've done so much. People are likely to help you so go and get some help.”

     

    “Alright, I'll probably be back this afternoon.”

     

    “Very well, please don't think to much of it.”

     

    “Don't worry I'll try”

     

    With that he donned his jacket and walked out of the house. The first person he decided to visit was some of the stall owners. Valindor was walking among the market stalls and decided to talk to him first,

     

    “Hey Valindor. I'm being unlawfully framed for something not of my doing. I need to leave town and I was wondering if there was anything you could do that could possibly aid me in my travels.”

     

    “Oh yes, I do still have a few diagrams noted down of what I did when I was an apprentice of a Valenwood armourer, I can make you something if you want.”

     

    “Oh wow, thanks. Yes that would be amazing. Something durable, strong yet lightweight though if you don't mind. Go to the Scorching Hammer and tell Balimund that Selafyn says you can use the forge and any resources.”

     

    “Ok, I'll have it done by tonight. Don't worry.”

     

    “Wow, many thanks friend.”

     

    With that Valindor left for his house, presumably for the diagrams that he spoke of. So Selafyn looked around for another person, the stall owners were there so he went around to each one.


    Altogether he found was given a small coin purse of about one hundred gold as well as several potions as well, thanking them he made his way to the inn, grateful for their donations in his aid.

     

    Keerava gave him some extra supplies for the trail and Wylandriah taught him a few basic spells which was strange as the only destructive magic he could master was ice related spells. There are several other donations he took from the generous souls of the city.

     

    Heading back around to the forge, Selafyn saw Valindor finishing up what seemed to be a set of gauntlets on top of a set of a breastplate and boots.

     

    “Hey, just finished it. There was a small problem with getting the right material but I got it. Got some lengths from your clothes inside so they should fit ok, I left a bit so you could be comfortable but that's all I could do.”

     

    Picking up the breastplate, Selafyn turned it over admiring the quite elegantly forged suit.

     

    “This means a lot, friend.”

     

    “Don't mention it, you've done a lot to help me get in this town but its the least I could do.”

     

    “I hope life is fortuitous to you.”

     

    “As to you Frost-Step.”

     

    With that, Valindor bid farewell and left for his house. Selafyn collected the armour and went inside of the forge. Balimund was by the table with a set of clothes on them.

     

    “Hey, got some clothes for you. There's another set in your backpack.”

     

    “Thank you, I'll get changed right away.”

     

    After several minutes, he came out of his room decked out in a nice set of durable travelling clothes with his jacket and the full set of elven light armour that hanged slightly loose on his body for comfort and mobility. Grabbing his backpack and satchel he turned to Balimund saying,

     

    “Night is falling, I need to go before its too late.”

     

    Swinging his quiver and bow onto his back, he strapped the dagger to the back of his waist saying,

     

    “Although I have been in this province for four years. I do not know of where to go.”

     

    Gathering up more things, Balimund pulled out a well worn scroll case and held a map onto the table. Pointing to a central spot on the map whilst Selafyn finished getting ready and said.

     

    “Head to Whiterun, there is a warriors guild called the Companions. Find someone called Torvar. He's my nephew and I'm sure he can help you get settled in. Also...”

     

    Moving across to the storage part of his forge, he rummaged through piles until he was at the back of the chamber where many of the best swords were placed. After a minute, he came back out with a fair sized blade that was curved at the top. It was a strange piece, one that Selafyn had only seen once before. In Hammerfell, used by a rather unorthodox mercenary group. The first fourth of the lade was the same as any sword, a leather hilt followed by six inches of sharp steel. But the next part of the sword curved in a crescent, like a sickle. At the end of the curve the sword continued again in a sharp point.

     

    “This I made long ago from a travelling smith from Hammerfell so its quite the wild card as your opponent won't know how to parry it. I made the hilt so it can be used either with one hand or both so its quite versatile. You can trap someone's blade in the curve of the sickle, then move in past their guard and hit them with the back edge of it. The point is long enough or stabbing so don't be afraid to do so. The outer edge of the sickle is curved like an axe head. You can use it to slit a shield or even chop down a tree if you need to, far better than any sword could. You can take a man's head off with a well placed backswing.”

     

    He handed it to Selafyn who strapped it to the back of his waist with a leather strip.

     

    “Keep it oiled and away from the damp Because of its shape it won't fit a normal scabbard so I again recommend that you head to Whiterun and talk to Eorlund Gray-Mane. He works marvels with steel and can fix you a scabbard up in a bit of time. By chance if he doesn't know what it is tell him its a long khopesh as a traditional one is about half the size. Take the side entrance and take a boat down to Ivarstead. Its a quite journey but a decent one. There's also about a thousand gold in you backpack too, and don't even think about handing it back.”

     

    Suddenly, several bells began to toll, their brassy knells reverberating in the streets. Even with the bells clamouring, Selafyn heard distant shouts from the square. Balimund walked to the window and looked out,

     

    “Shit, it's started. I'll bar the forge door's. Me and Asbjorn will do our best to hold them off.”

     

    Balimund said shoving him out of the forge and into the cold night air.

     

    “Goodbye, son.”

     

    Selafyn caught one last glimpse of his friend, mentor and father like figure, silhouetted in the doorway. Then the door was shut and he was alone in the world, but for the chilling presence of the wraith hanging at the back of his mind.

     

    “Don't worry. I know we haven't exactly gotten along but if we can get to this Whiterun then we can finally start learning about me and how we can both help each other since we can't get rid of one another. I can do my best to guide you but thats about all I can do so far.”

     

    Selafyn nodded, his eyes lacing over with a strange ice like substance as he bolted into the night.

Comments

4 Comments   |   The Wolf Of Atmora and 2 others like this.
  • DeltaFox
    DeltaFox   ·  May 23, 2017
    Looking good. Looking forward to the next chapter. :)
    • Selafyn Froststep
      Selafyn Froststep
      DeltaFox
      DeltaFox
      DeltaFox
      Looking good. Looking forward to the next chapter. :)
        ·  May 24, 2017
      Thanks
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  May 23, 2017
    Aww, he had to leave..  made my eyes wet!
    • Selafyn Froststep
      Selafyn Froststep
      Caladran
      Caladran
      Caladran
      Aww, he had to leave..  made my eyes wet!
        ·  May 23, 2017
      Yeah, there was no other choice