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WIP - Story: Untitled (ESO)

  • Member
    April 21, 2021

    Another story is underway, set somewhere in 2E 584 in the Elder Scrolls universe. The Imperial Auditor is still ongoing and has not been abandoned.


    Authors notes:

    - I'm not 100% committed to posting the full story as it started out as a bit of personal indulgence after one of my characters reaction to a particular quest ending,

    - No there isn't a title yet, any input on on this will be very much appreciated!

    - Yes this will contain spoilers depending on how much of ESO you have played

    - This is quite AU, therefore there will be quite a few differences to the actual game, especially my interpretation of timelines

    - Various topics will be discussed, if I feel these could be considered triggers, or slightly more mature (I couldn't write porn if I tried!), then I will place a warning at the start of each chapter

    - Enough waffle, time for the first bit :-)




    Dorcas-Anya stepped off the shipand onto the gangplank, looking up to the city of Shimmerene on the island of Summerset, the morning sun reflecting off the windows of the northern gatehouse.It was nearly three years since she had last been here, when her life had changed from that of a seamstress, wife and mother, to a reluctant player in a war against the Daedric Prince, Molag Bal and his former servant, the master necromancer, Mannimarco.

    The missive that she had received from the Queen of the Altmer, Ayrenn, had been quite clear that something was amiss on the island, and had been for some time. The Queen’s own investigators had failed to find any useful information as to the culprit and it had now reached a point where outside help was needed, and only those trusted by the various leaders across Tamriel were summoned.

    Dorcas-Anya had felt the tension in the air when she was last here, Queen Ayrenn had her sights on confirming her leadership of the Dominion, and to further expand it for the benefit of all Tamriel, and had opened up the island to non-Altmer. Unfortunately, a large number of the Altmer were uncomfortable with this new arrangement, still believing that all other races would be forever lesser than the Altmer, now it was reaching boiling point, and people were disappearing.

    Making her way along the quayside, Dorcas-Anya observed the comings and goings of the dockworkers, the occasional Altmer noting her presence and nodding their head in recognition. Things didn’t change much in the lands of the Altmer, being one of the longest lived of all the races. The familiar stone buildings surrounded her as she made her way along well worn stone paths and stairs, making her way to the city’s only inn, the Anchors Aweigh, though not the best choice for a long stay, it would be a suitable base for the night and to enquire if there was a room available at the boarding house.

    Stepping through the door, she was greeted by the smell of the beginnings of curriedstew bubbling over the fire, the bartender Cuileril wiping out tankards before he placed them under the bar, nothing had changed save the wary glances of the other patrons as Dorcas-Anya entered.

    Cuileril looked up as she approached the bar, recognising her, he smiled, “Welcome back, been a long time, what can I get you?”

    “A pot of Bitter Lemon tea please, would you have a room available for the night?” she enquired, adjusting her pack.

    “We are out of individual rooms at the moment, but there are a couple of beds available in the bunk room, if that would be okay?” he replied, fetching the tin of Bittergreen leaves and a teapot.

    “That will be fine thank you, would you prefer payment in advance?”

    “No,” Cuileril replied quietly so the other patrons would not hear, “you did so much for us last time you were here, you can pay when you leave.”

    Dorcas-Anya remembered that she had helped Cuileril when he was short staffed, his wife and daughter both ill, and she was desperate for money, finding herself alone on an unknown island with nothing but the clothes on her back, which led her to find work where she would not ordinarily look, taking on errands that were far removed from her days as a seamstress.

    “Thank you Cuileril,” Dorcas-Anya stepped away from the bar and located a quiet table to sit and take her tea.

    Once the tea was ready, Cuileril brought it over to her table, “When you’re ready, Endolale will be able to show you upstairs, and which bed will be yours.”

    As Dorcas-Anya took her time with the bitter brew, she recalled when she first found herself in Shimmerene, she had awoken in a room of stone, with no concept of the time that had passed since she was in Daggerfall or what had happened. The only recollection she had were hazy visions an Altmer, telling her to escape a mind trap, that memories could kill, it was very fuzzy in detail. The vision was the first time she had picked up a weapon or used magic, it was a few days after she awoke that Dorcas-Anya realised that the abilities she had gained in the vision had stayed with her, when she had fallen foul of a thief in a back street of the city, the thief running off with a bruised rib and a bloody nose, a ring of healing magic surrounding her.

    Of the heroes of each Alliance that aided in the war against Molag Bal, Dorcas-Anya was the only one to have the misfortune of being abducted twice, the first when she found her herself in Summerset, the second she had found herself in Coldharbour, a plane within Oblivion where the Daedric Princes resided.

    Sighing to herself, Dorcas-Anya waved Endolale, the maid, over to her table, best to get reacquainted with the city rather than sitting here dwelling on the past.

    Endolale showed Dorcas-Anya upstairs to the bunk room, her rented bed was almost the last in the line around a corner in the L-shaped room, just one between hers and the wall, wooden screens in between each to afford each guest a small amount of privacy. She placed her pack and weapons on the bed, taking the opportunity to change into something lighter, normally travelling in her leather armour as it was not easily packed away. Secreting a dagger in her boot just in case, even in Shimmerene there was danger, and sometimes a quiet dagger in just the right place was a better option than using magic. Tucking her bow and staff under the bed, tying them to the wooden slats so that they would not be too obvious, there was an unspoken rule for those who stayed in the bunk room, under no circumstances did you touch the possessions of another occupant, but you couldn’t be too careful.


  • Member
    May 3, 2021

    Awwwooo Meli. 

    I don't know enough of the chapter, nor the Quest which this is a reaction of to give any suggestions of a title yet. However I am sure something will come to mind.

    One thing did strike me though, I'll throw it to the wolves and see if anyone bites. Bear in mind this is just my own opinion. Don't mean you have to change it at all.

    The last line:-

    Tucking her bow and staff under the bed, tying them to the wooden slats so that they would not be too obvious, there was an unspoken rule for those who stayed in the bunk room, under no circumstances did you touch the possessions of another occupant, but you couldn’t be too careful.

    Reading the chapter, it's obvious that she feels safe there but I wonder how useful the dagger would be in her boot and her weapons tied up, underneath her bed. If it was me, I'd have Dorcas-Anya (great name btw) maybe tie her belongings under her bed, and have her staff alongside her under the covers where it is easily at hand. Maybe hid e the dagger under her pillow? In the morning she could hide the dagger once again in her boot. 

    Just a thought I had. Looking great so far and I do hope you post it when it's finished.

    Sotek Loyal Hound of Hircine