B.M.R. Year 0 Exodus Part 01

• Posted by Sotek January 1, 2016 - Filed in TSC: Classics - 1,120 views

   

   

  

  

   

  Authors Note:

  U.O.T.W. Started with the introduction of Sotek. A lowly Argonian answering the call of a wolf. That may be the start of U.O.T.W. but it certainly wasn't the start of Sotek. The Bloodmoon Rising stories are of his past, his faliures, his victories and events which helped shape the Argonian we all know as Sotek. I hope you, the reader enjoy these stories just as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

  Sotek, Loyal Hound of Hircine.

   

  It was around three in the morning when the ‘Swamp Rat’ left Blackmarsh behind. Overhead, the sky was thunderous and lightning lit up the coast line as the old creaking wooden transport vessel slipped out of the harbour. The swamp Rat wasn’t much to look at, a shallow hull and two sails with just the single cargo hold where the captain along with his crew slept. It was manned, if manned was the right word by five Argonians.

   

  Captain Orajin See-In-The-Dark and his motley crew that comprised of two older Argonian males, a younger and far less experienced deckhand who was obviously learning the trade and two females who serviced the crew with their talents of cleaning and cooking when they weren’t too busy showing the men up due to the fact that they were obviously better sailors as well.

   

  His ship carried no cargo save a few baskets of supplies and a wooden barrow of old skins and a sprinkling of precious items. The sort of items which were only worth their weight in gold to their rightful owner while onlookers would undoubtedly turn up their noses in disgust.

   

  An old cracked stone pestle was one such item. A wooden staff made from a sapling from the depths of Blackmarsh lay alongside the basket. As to their owner...

   

  The owner of the small hand wagon was a female Argonian. She was in her thirties but had that youthful glow in her eyes. Magic coursed through her veins along with something else that was far darker. The blood of the beast. She belonged to Hircine and she was happy with the prospect of her fate. Trained in the mystical arts of transportation and a seer, she was able to move quickly and silently from one location to another. Alchemy, to which she was well versed, aided this ability and fed her visions. But not even they had forewarned her of this night... Not until Hircine himself spoke to her the morning before and set in motion these events which she was not a part of.

   

  Had she wanted to travel alone to Vvardenfell then a basic spell would have sufficed but she wasn’t alone. Far from it. She had three constant companions who were in the process of learning her craft. All girls, all Argonians, and all had the gift of magic along with the gift of the beast. She herself turned two of them within a week of them being accepted by her.

   

  In her arms lay a bundle of wrapped fur where a fourth child lay. A male hatchling barely four hours old. As another thunderclap tore across the sky, the hatchling jumped drawing the Argonians attention to it.

  “Hush little one, shush...” She gently rocked the hatchling while she held him against her chest to weather him from the worst of the storm but he seemed to kick out and fight until he was able to look up at the dark clouds and feel the heavy droplets of rain on his scales.

   

  The oldest of the three girls, one known as Vele’nara was around seven years old. Argonians grow at a different rate than of other races and in a few years she would be considered an adult. Despite that though, she knew her place and treated her mother along with her sisters with respect.

  “Mother, I can take it below if you like”.

   

  Quentarii, the one the three girls looked upon as their mother, looked down at Vele’nara and smiled warmly.

  “He’s not an it dear, he’s... a him... But what do we do with him. Hircine knows why he’s with us and he isn’t saying. The little one seems to like the storm”.

   

  She had selected the three girls from various villages to train them. Each young female hatchling was asked a question and only those who answered correctly could be chosen. These three alone had the foresight to understand and the courage to step forwards.

   

  A high pitched voice seemed to call from nowhere until a small Argonian head appeared from under Quentarii’s shroud. Kat’rini, the smallest and youngest of the three girls was hiding under her ‘mothers’ cloak in an attempt to hide from the storm. She giggled as she pointed to the male hatchling’s foot which had inadvertently kicked off the furs.

  “He has little feet”.

   

  Quentarii nodded as she attempted to cover the hatchling up for the fifth time in as many minutes.

  “Yes he does have small feet. Then again your feet were tiny. Now where is the third member of my troop hmm?”

   

  A third head stuck out from her robes as yet another Argonian girl called out to her.

  “I’m here and I’m wet”.

   

  Vele’nara sniggered as she tugged on the girls arm.

  “Kut’ara, you’re supposed to be wet you’re an Argonian silly”.

   

  Kut’ara shoved the hand away as she grabbed the robe tightly as if it was her shield from the stormy weather.

  “Get off!!”

   

  Quentarii tugged back on her robe to free it from Kut’ara’s hands.

  “Enough! Look, we’re leaving the harbour...”

   

  The three girls stood out in the rain and watched as the land of Blackmarsh which they called home slowly and inexorably disappeared in the darkness of the storm.

   

  Vele’nara clasped on tightly to her younger sisters hands and felt them both tremble. She herself had the feeling of apprehension but that was equalled with confusion.

   

  They had been travelling since dawn the day before to head to a small village she knew nothing about. Quentarii kept such matters to herself. She even refused to tell Aruzzel a tall skinny Argonian of what she saw that morning as the sun rose. He knew better to ask questions and followed her lead.

   

  Aruzzel puzzled Vele’nara for a number of years. She had wondered for near two years as to why Aruzzel and Quentarii would fight at night. Not every night, but at least once a week. Sometimes it was Quentarii who would beat him whilst other nights Vele’nara heard him hit her. It would never take place around the young hatchlings though. About a year ago, Vele’nara had enough of hearing her mother’s cries and burst into her tent which was strictly forbidden.

   

  She learned that night the difference between making love and making war. Both sounded the same but for totally different reasons...

   

  Her mind turned back to four hours ago when their world changed. Quentarii watched a village from the edge of the marsh as a pack of wolves descended upon it. The three girls hid under her cloak and blocked their ears while the wolves howled out around the village nest. Three of the four eggs had already hatched under the sign of the Shadow. Shadowscales, they were destined to be Shadowscales. The black sky lit up in a bright red as the Bloodmoon broke through the clouds. The fourth egg cracked as the Bloodmoon blotted out the stars. The hatchlings head pushed through the shell and called out in a single high pitched hissy cry. Instantly the wolves fell into silence as if it was their master’s call.

   

  Vele’nara watched with her mother as the green hatchling was laid bare just outside the village perimeter where it was abandoned. Hircine foretold of its coming and sent Quentarii to take the hatchling away. This she did without question, abandoning her home, which lay in the marshes for many years. It was Vele’nara who first picked up the Argonian. From that moment they fled Blackmarsh and headed to the small harbour where the Swamp Rat awaited them.

   

  No one asked why, they just ran...

   

  The captain, Orajin, bellowed at his crew. They were now in deep water and the storm showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

  “Lower the main sail, we’ll lose the mast. Tighten the ropes you damn fool. Port side, go portside damn you!!”

   

  Quentarii looked up at the clouds. She could feel the Bloodmoon shining down on her despite the fact that it had been blotted out. The storm wouldn’t last, of that she was certain.

  “Captain, you needn’t worry. We’ll have calm seas soon enough”.

   

  “Calm seas? In these winds? Ha! You won’t get to Vvardenfell, you’ll see the bottom of the sea first”.

   

  Quentarii picked up her staff and stood in the middle of the deck. She banged the end of the staff onto the wooden decking as hard as she could and shouted out at the sky defiantly.

  “Enough!!!”

   

  The winds dropped to a steady breeze as the clouds rapidly dissipated, lighting the sky in a hazy red. The moons natural off white colouring seeped through and within a few minutes all seemed right with the world.

   

  The crew stared at her with disbelieving eyes but she shrugged such glances off and simply called out to the captain.

  “When will we arrive?”

   

  The captain glanced at her then looked straight up as if he expected the storm to start again.

  “Arrive?”

   

  A member of his crew, one of the girls came over with a tray of drinks and rolls. She offered them to her captain first then as a matter of courtesy, she presented the food to Quentarii.

  “Ebonheart captain... That’s where she is getting off... Ermm, disembarking”.

   

  The captain nodded as he yelled once more to his crew while he bit into a roll.

  “Yes, Ebonheart. We’ll be there in fourteen days... Provided you worthless dogs lower the main sail!!”

   

  For two weeks the Swamp Rat cut through the waters as she sailed around Vvardenfell. By the second week they reached the coast of Dagon Fel from there they slowed down and steered away from both sides of the coastland. Large jagged rocks protruded out of the water, just waiting to catch a weary captain but the captain of the Swamp Rat and indeed its crew were old hands at traversing such hostile waters.

   

  At one point Quentarii called out to the three girls as they passed a small funny looking town. They could just see it in the distance. It was half build with stone like a miniature castle while the other half were overly large wooden tendrils which coiled up and up where giant bulbous pods had been hollowed out to create living space inside them.

  “That’s Tel Vos. We’ll be travelling there soon”.

   

  Kut’ara groaned as they sailed past the small farming settlement.

  “It’s a dump... Why are we going there? I want to go home!!”

   

  Kat’rini clapped her hands excitedly as she watched the tiny fishing vessels sail out of the small harbour.

  “Why are we sailing past it?”

   

  Quentarii chuckled as she pointed to the rocks.

  “This ship is too big to reach the harbour. The rocks would claim it first. We have to travel on a smaller boat. You’ll see”.

   

  Kut’ara slammed her hands to her sides and stamped her foot as she complained once more in her childish manner.

  “More sailing? Maa!!!”

   

  Vele’nara was too occupied with the hatchling who was wriggling in her arms. He was in the process of shaking off the fur which covered his head. Dawn was a few moments away and his eyes were fixed on the horizon which was full of reds and oranges. Suddenly the sun broke the horizon bathing the ship in light.

   

  The hatchling that had stuck his head up and stared wide eyed at the approaching dawn, screamed as his world exploded in light. His eyes felt like they were on fire, burned from the sun's brilliance.

   

  Vele’nara cursed as he kicked out and quickly covered his face.

  “Damn him... Mother!!”

   

  Quentarii snatched him from the girl and turned her back to the dawn so her shadow would cast him in darkness.

  “Oh you silly child. Why didn’t you protect his eyes? The sun's too bright for him until his eyes develop... Shussh shussh... Bring me water. That will cool him”.

   

  Vele’nara’s own eyes started watering as she looked on helplessly.

  “Will, will he be ok?”

   

  Quentarii bathed his eyes as she quietened him down. Already they seemed red and sore. She feared the worst for him as hatchlings eyes are used to the trees and swamps, not the full glare of the sun which he had unwittingly set upon himself by pulling off the cover.

  “He should be ok... You must go careful with him... Oh stop snivelling... Come here, he’s looking for you”.

   

  She timidly peered over the top of the fur to see him looking expectantly up at her despite the fact that he was squinting. His eyelids looked puffy but when he saw her, he smiled and thrashed about once more in an attempt to reach her before he was distracted by the light of dawn. He turned towards the horizon and a single solitary ‘hsss’ caused Vele’nara to chuckle.

  “He hissed”

   

  Quentarii nodded as she contemplated her fate over the next twenty years.

  “Yes, he’s going to be a handful”.

   

  Soon enough they passed Azura’s coast. The Daedric shrine looked down upon them from high in the mountain where Azura’s statue dominated the landscape.

   

  Quentarii spoke a silent prayer then prepared for their arrival.

   

  Less than a day later they passed the mighty city of Vivec. The city itself was devised of various ‘pyramids’ of immense size and joined together with expanses of bridges connecting them to one another. The sea ran freely between them and each section had its own name. In the corner of each pyramid were a Gondolier, who was willing, for a few gold, to transport people from one section to another.

   

  It only took two hours from there to reach Ebonheart. The city was vastly different to the golden stone used in Vivec’s construction. Here the stonework was a depressing military grade grey. A few ships lay in harbour but they were vastly smaller than the Swamp Rat. In fact they made the ship seem like a ‘Swamp Mammoth’, due to its size in comparison.

   

  The water looked clear and clean. It was tidal yet it maintained that ‘lake’ calmness to it. The three girls stood on the edge until Quentarii called them away.

  “No! There are dangers here which you know nothing about. You will learn though... Come now. Aruzzel is fetching the cart. We must hurry else we’ll miss the boat”.

   

  Aruzzel laughed as he slowly loaded the hand cart with their meagre belongings.

  “You are so composed. You know that? It’s going nowhere, not unless that Imperial hires it...”

   

  Quentarii quickly span on the spot and glanced around for any Imperial who happened to be approaching the Gondolier. She frowned at Aruzzel when she saw no one was there.

  “Oh very funny you aren’t you. Very clever”.

   

  The three girls thought he was clever, and funny to boot. They all stood around him and laughed as he stuck his tongue out at Quentarii. To make up for his ‘behaviour’, Quentarii sent him off to talk to the ferryman.

   

  He approached the Dunmer with a cheery smile which caused the man to back away slightly as he thought the Argonian was snarling. It was the bag of gold which caused him to refrain from calling out to the guards who were clad in a golden solid yet light armor.

  “We wish to hire your boat. There are five of us... Sorry six and a small cart”.

   

  The Dunmer watched the group suspiciously. He was unaccustomed to Argonians walking free let alone having a bag of gold. He suspected the gold was stolen but any coin would put food on the table.

  “Where to Sera? Your destination outlander?”

   

  “Tel Vos... We are heading to...” Aruzzel found himself being waved off from the Dunmer as he blatantly refused to accommodate the request.

   

  “Out of the question Sera... Tel Branora is as far as I go. 33 gold... In advance”.

   

  Aruzzel tilted his head to the side as he started to argue with the man.

  “Who is Sarah? I’m Aruzzel... How do we get to Tel Vos then?”

   

  Fortunately Quentarii and the hatchling joined in with the conversation, saving some embarrassment and the loss of the use of the boat.

  “Tel Branora is on the way you lunatic. Sera is a term of respect. 33 gold? That seems a bit steep but I suppose there are a few of us. I will pay you 35 gold if... If you are willing to wait for a few minutes. My legs are somewhat cramped and the girls are rather restless”.

   

  The Dunmer held out his hand and nodded in a simplistic fashion. Aruzzel paid him the gold then walked Quentarii back to the girls. As they had a few minutes to spare, they took the opportunity to take in their surroundings as this was the first time the three girls had stepped on land in Vvardenfell.

   

  At the edge of a central plaza, the docks of Ebonheart stretched out along various gangways allowing three ships to dock at any one time. The plaza itself was flanked on either side by large bland looking buildings separated by narrow walkways. The East Empire Company owned them all and had gold platelets by each doorway so visitors knew what and who was where. To the north was the Castle. Castle Ebonheart where the Duke, Duke Vedam Dren ran the city.

   

  A single massive statue dominated the plaza. A stature of a dragon wrapping itself around a black prism. Its wings were swooped out as if it was in a dive while it seemed to roar out. The three girls stood in awe of the creature until one of the girls backed away nervously.

   

  Kat’rini cowered from Vele’nara who seemed to take pleasure from her fear.

  “Dragons are real, they will swoop down and gobble you up in your sleep”.

   

  Kat’rini ran to Quentarii and grabbed her legs tightly almost causing her to topple over.

  “They aren’t real are they?”

   

  Aruzzel did his best to calm her down while Quentarii patted her back.

  “Vele’nara, stop scaring her. There is a creature called a cliff racer, here in Vvardenfell but it is certainly no dragon. They are extinct”.

   

  Kat’rini wiped her eyes then looked pathetically up at her mother.

  “Are they?”

   

  Quentarii gulped as she answered her.

  “Yes. There are no dragons”

   

  She held the hatchling up in the air. His emerald green eyes gazed all around him and his tail wrapped around her wrist like a serpent.

  “You’re Sotek! That’s your name little one”

   

  Kat’rini tickled his foot making him flail about as he laughed.

  “Little foot”.

   

  He looked down at her once he stopped laughing and hissed quietly at her. Vele’nara chuckled as she poked his belly softly which caused him to curl up in a defensive ball.

  “And he hisses”.

   

  Quentarii nodded at her then spoke softly.

  “Then we all agree... Sotek Hissing Little Foot”.

   

  The three girls all carefully stepped on the Gondola ‘Chun-Ook’ and found themselves seats while Quentarii secured their belongings. Soon enough the city of Ebonheart faded from view as the small craft made its way along the coastline drawing them all slowly but surely closer towards their new home.