• A Day to Remember


    The thick, heavy fog began to set in as he frantically marked his way across the marshy swamps of Morthal; the dense waters pulling at the hems of his cloak like undead rising from their graves. He had searched the landscape for what felt like hours since they’d left the warm, cozy beds at the local tavern, the Moorside Inn, with his fellow companions. What had happened to them he did not know, but from the blood curling screams resonating around him he reckoned that it wasn’t anything good. Even the strong-hearted hunter he had known since childhood seemed distant; he was almost shivering from the intense fear himself. Slosh of muck rose with every proceeding step he took through the soupy mud slowly taking its toll on his stamina; he had never felt so tired in his life.

    “Say, Floki…do you think this is the end for us?”

    “Aye Gunjar, I…I reckon it might be,” said Floki, his voice shaky.

    “I hope it doesn’t come to that dear friend, but if so- “

    It was then that footsteps he had heard so faintly at first became a rapid pitter-patter of splashes as it quickly made its way towards Floki and he; his heart raced even faster, seemingly trying to crawl its way up his throat and escape into the night. The first glimpse he caught of the beast was as Floki dropped into the water, pale and unmoving. Then, suddenly, he felt an unbearable force smash down upon his shoulder, the joint tearing from its socket, and the ferocious howl emanating in his skull as he felt the cold waters wash over his face, tainted with his blood. It was at this time Gunjar had felt the true meaning of fear, and the first time he’d felt truly helpless; the last thing he heard was the swoosh of the air before the world went black…


    It’d been a very long time, he didn’t know exactly how, since he’d fallen unconscious in what had first started out as an expedition of commitment and bravery. The time when he’d most graciously accepted the quest from the Jarl to investigate the outlying farmlands deep within the swamps of Morthal, from what they’d been told, sporadic animal attacks. It had been then that the group of Nords found the real threat behind these “animal attacks” as something only whispered in the dead of night from mothers to their children; could it be, werewolves? It changed from the moment the group of four had split into pairs in order to cover more ground, Gunjar and Floki taking the eastern parts of the province, and Torvald and Brynhild venturing through the west. Only the first fatal mistake they’d made, but… where was he now? This odd house…no a cave with an enchanter's table, and many a tome laying around the dark interior of the dimly lit room, almost feeling as if to consume you. The numerous dusty bookshelves and the cobwebs masqueraded in the corner like even they were trying to hid. It soon became evident as a shadow-clad figure stepped through the narrow doorway into the small guest room Gunjar lay in.


    “So, you're finally awake?” the amused, jaunty tune rolled forward.

    “Aye, but where in Talos name am I, and who are you?”

    “Ah yes… that you need not worry about my fine friend, all you need hear is that those werewolves your crew so foolishly hunted have been dispersed, and I your savior, for now.”

    Gunjar squinted his eyes trying to adjust to the dim exposure, “So answer me at least this, what is your name?” He hadn’t liked the way this stranger said ‘for now.’

    He could make out a precautious look dart across the man’s face for but a second, “I’m Movarth” he said as a lopsided smile formed in his features revealing white, pointy fangs.

    A mark of creepy disbelief flashed over Gunjar, “…w-what a-are you?” Gunjar instinctively receded further into the mass of furs piled onto the adequate oak bed.

    “Now, now…” Movarth said, “that’s no way to treat your host…now is it?” He moved steadily closer to Gunjar.

    “W-wh-where…a-are t-the…others,” Gunjar stuttered, “did any of t-them…m-make it?”

    “Oh, how very sorry I am to bring you this grim news, and right after you’ve awoken, but your party…they’re all dead.” Movarth reached for the back of his belt a small shadow sprawling itself along the floorboards.

    “N-n-no…please, I’ve a wife and daughter…d-don’t do it, please!” Gunjar froze with absolute terror. He wanted to shut his eyes, but the adrenaline forced them open. Was this the end for him?


    Movarth advanced closer…closer. Gunjar’s heart beat out of his chest harder than ever as the mysterious figure crept forward. He was sure that this would be the end for him; memories flashed across his gaze quicker than a lightning bolt. His wife, daughters… his crew all of them passed through his mind for a final moment. It was at that moment a man came in behind the shadowy figure known as Movarth.

    “Master Movarth, it seems there is a gathering of the local townspeople outside the lair… what would you like us to do?”

    “I’M BUSY, can you not see that fool! What do you think I want you to do about those filthy humans.”

    Humans? He acted as if he was a supernatural being, was he, no it couldn’t be… Gunjar thought back to the sharp, yellow fangs, and especially the name; He’d heard that name before in the Jarl’s court –

    “Yes, master. Sorry. I’ll go now.”

    “Thank the Divines,” Movarth turned back to Gunjar, “now let’s get back to our little game…”

    Gunjar breifly became lost in the sound of swords ringing in the distance as the cave lit up with action. Stalactites fell down upon the invaders in explosions of arcane fire crushing the Jarl’s fighting force in mere minutes. It appeared that when a spark of hope had briefly brought itself into Gunjar’s hopeless heart it had been snuffed out with an icy hand just as quick. This Movarth, this…vampire, would be his undoing after all the dangerous adventures he’d been through. Would this really be the end? A sense of deep despair fell over him; he seemed to be paralyzed by complete fear.  

    “Hey! I’m talking to you fool, I wouldn’t make me mad considering your life is in my hands here.”

    Gunjar snapped back into focus, he had to find a way out. “Say vampire, how is it that you’re such a skilled commander of your forces?”

    “Oh, so you’ve noticed? I’m truly flattered,” a hint of a smile played on the corner of his mouth; Gunjar knew it was working.

    “How ‘bout you show me around this magnificent home you’ve established. I’m truly surprised by how well it’s constructed… the stonework is just – “

    “Aye, I’ll let you follow me for a while. A moments reprieve is the least I can give to you before your bloody death.”

    “I’m most gracious of your generosity.” Fool, it’d gone to his head.


5 Comments   |   Paws and 3 others like this.
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  June 26
    A dangerous game indeed but a calculated one. Want to see how this pans out.
  • FlamezSword
    FlamezSword   ·  October 29, 2017
    Thanks for all the help! And thanks for taking the time to read it, the only thing I ask is there a certain way the code works on the site (I'd love to change the Comments color to something a bit more bright)
  • Paws
    Paws   ·  October 29, 2017
    Gunjar's playing a dangerous game, but better that than being food for the immortals! :)
    Flames, I have changed the background to black with a 20% opacity. You may want to up that to 30% or 40% as the flamesword is bright - that's the line that rea...  more
    • Paws
      Gunjar's playing a dangerous game, but better that than being food for the immortals! :)
      Flames, I have changed the background to black with a 20% opacity. You may want to up that to 30% or 40% as the flamesword is bright - that's the line that reads 0,0...  more
        ·  October 29, 2017
      I'll look into it for you over the next few days :)
      • FlamezSword
        I'll look into it for you over the next few days :)
          ·  October 29, 2017