One

There are things in this world we fiend to acquire. Knowledge, wisdom, power, fame, wealth. We'll do anything to have them. We've already gone to measures to ensure our children have exactly what we want for ourselves -- to have our name ring on through the ages. We walk with an heir of importance and spit on anyone who isn't remotely as fortunate as ourselves. Perhaps it is they who are fortunate. Perhaps we envy them in the great scheme of things. I am Detrinus Levonnius. I was born eight-hundred and thirty six years ago. My father was a lowly peasant and my mother a common skank. In a way this shaped me. It brought me to see the light. Although my parents were simpletons in their own right, I aspired for so much more.

At the age of twelve my mother abandoned me one cold Turdas morning in the high and prime month of Frostfall. It was the fifth era, year two twenty-one. I could hardly fathom her shrewdeness or the sudden loss of feeling one has when betrayed by someone who's only obligation to you is love. That was my only demand, having grown accustom to a poor life style. She'd left me right in front of a worn down old house, belonging to a Bosmer by the name of Thinian. He would later discover me shivering in nothing but a torn up filthy shirt and a pair of oversized breeches.

He brought me in and served me a hot cup of tea, the tears streaming gently down my dirt-smeared cheek. I was always taught crying was a sign of weakness. Therefore I remained quiet and sipped cautiously at the luxurious beverage. I didn't know the Bosmer from anywhere and apparently by the way he quickly heated a cauldron of water and moistened a rag, I was in need of a bath.

"You can't stay here long ya know?" He said, as he dropped a bar of Sload soap into the large pot. His voice was high pitched and irritated me a bit now that I think back on it. "I haven't got the room for you young'n"

I remained inaudible -- unable to introduce myself as my mother had taught me; to widen my eyes and tilt my head with my hand stuck out waiting for a shiny gold septim. "You're a quiet one then, eh?" The wrinkles beside his eyes flattened as he smiled and rolled up his sleeves, motioning for me to come to him. "That's fine. I prefer the quiet ones."

He reached for my shirt and I drew back sharply, his brow raising in response. "Come now young'n. I'm no pervert ya hear? You need to get cleaned up now. Look at ya! Your filthy as can be. Come here and take a bath." he motioned once more. I stood still as stone, my eyes watching his every movement. "Are ya shy?"
I nodded. I'd never before taken a bath or for that matter undressed in front of anyone other than the usual "clients" my mother had visit our grimy little alley every so often. She'd get payed two or three coins, I'd undress, the "client" would taunt and laugh and my mother would chase them away.

I know now my mother was full of evil. To make her son suffer so much for such feeble payment. I'm glad she'd abandoned me where she did.

"I'll turn around. You can undress, climb inside the cauldron, and I'll bathe you. Fair enough?" he bargained.
I nodded once more and waited for him to turn around. "I'm facing the window now. See? I won't peek. I promise." he said.
I checked to make sure he wasn't looking and quickly slid from under the rags I'd been wearing for more than their use normally allowed.
The water from the cauldron stung the scars and scabs on my legs and back, but I instantly felt relieved. I sat back against the rim of the cauldron and tapped on it's edge to let the man know I was ready. He turned and smiled at the sight of me. "Feels good I bet. You've probably never had one of these in your entire life have you?"

From there on Thinian slowly bathed me and soothed me with stories of his life. I listened intently, quietly. He went on about how his father fought the Khajiit in Valenwood and died protecting important merchant convoys in Elsweyr. I was enthralled. He was my savior, his house a haven. I nearly fell asleep sitting there listening to the Bosmer speak. After my bath he rolled out a small cot for himself and pulled back thick blankets on his bed for me to lay under. I crawled underneath them and watched Thinian for a bit as he tried his best to make the cot comfortable for himself.

"Goodnight young'n." He said.

I hesitated at first but humbly replied, "Goodnight."

(Any constructive criticism would be appreciated.)

This is one of the best written and thought out stories I have ever read! Riveting! MORE!!

shrudeness may be spelled shrewdness

We cannot control the things that happen to us in this life. We are powerless to manipulate our future. For even if we could, wouldn't the outcome still be the fate laid out before us? I grew up wanting more from life than what my father and mother could provide for me. Thinian was always nice to me. He never hesitated to give me the best life possible. Still, I was destined for greater things.

I'll never forget the night I wondered curiously out onto the streets of Longhaven. I was seventeen. A thick fog had settled and the road ahead was barely visible. My feet patted gently across the cobblestone street. Such architecture is rare in the Bosmer province. The roots of century old trees and vines swirled and wrapped themselves around the western-like foundations and numerous buildings. It mended beautifully. I didn't worry about keeping quiet. The Bosmer valued a good rest in those days. The Wild Hunt was used a lot more then.

I continued down the street, wrapping my leather overcoat around myself tightly in defense from the chill weather. Thinian had warned me of Longhaven during these hours of the night. Drug dealers, prosttutes, and murderers supposedly favored the hour. Being an Imperial, I didn't quite fit into the crowd of Elves and Mer. Still, I kept my stride confident and my chin high. Let them try to out-do me. I thought arrogantly. Thinian had recently taken to teaching me how to use a shortsword. I could best him in two of three matches.

As I neared the border of Longhaven a sense of adventure overcame me. Something inside me begged to continue on through the woods. To march and march and march some more. And so I did. I couldn't consciously stop myself from walking forward. Try as I might, my hunger for adventure had taken hold of me. I was under a spell. My lust for knowledge and power had finally touched me. I pushed through weeds, over stumps, around giant puddles, across acres of open land; under the moon of that same night, the sun the following morning, and again the moon. I finally collapsed just within sight of a small village of Khajiit. I was physically exhausted and incapable of driving on. My lungs burned with the satisfying 'adventure' they'd so desperately seeked. My legs ached and whined for nutrients. I felt a sudden wave of dizziness as my nostrils flared and took in the smell of smoke. Dust. Water. Food.

Just a few seconds. I'll only close my eyes for a few seconds.

Two

The bed I woke up in couldn't have possibly matched the one back in Longhaven. It was rough and crude and wreaked of wet fur. As I opened my eyes, i was startled to find a young Khajiit boy hovering over me.
"Good morning! You've been out for two days stranger! I'm Kha'lel. I'm this many." He said with excitement, eagerly holding up eight fingers and smiling wide. One fang had already grown in -- sharp and glossy with saliva. "Mother says I have to show you around the village."

I sat up, my ears ringing loudly and my vision slightly blurred. I tried to speak but I'd grown hoarse from the walk. "I...I need water." I managed to moan.
The young Khajiit quickly bounded for a wooden cup sitting on a table across the room. He slowly walked it back to me. "Here. This should help." he said, handing it over to me gently.

It had a tangy smell to it but went down fairly easy. "What is it?" I asked, already feeling my voice growing stronger. "It's Khajiit brahmin milk, with a drop of Hist sap. Do you feel better?" he asked, drawing in close to my face and scanning my pinned out eyes and pasty skin. "Actually," I said, feeling entirely revitalized," I feel good as new."

Kha'lel smiled and leapt in joy. "Good! Now we go see Mother. She'll have some Big Words to share with you. You came stumbling up the road you know? You looked like a skooma addict. Well, that's what Mother says. I thought you looked like a bald Khajiit with rabies."

"Kha'lel! Leave the poor man alone." A soft voice warned from the doorway. Standing there was a middle-aged female Khajiit. She had soft beige fur and a nasty scar across her left eye. "Excuse Kha'lel. He has never seen Imperial men before."

I must confess. Being referred to as a man gave me a sense of pride. "It's not a problem at all ma'am." I replied.
She wrinkled her nose and tilted her head. "Please, call me Mother."

You have done it again! Awesome! MORE!! MORE !!! (please)

Two (Continued)

Mother spent most of the evening folding clothes and telling me about Moonmont, the small Khajiit village I had stumbled upon. "The village Mothers decided bringing you in would benefit us. You've come from the west. Are there Bosmer there?" I sat up in the uncomfortable bed and rubbed the tops of my thighs nervously. "I... I'm from a village of Bosmer." I managed to choke up. Mother's brow raised curiously. I'd already betrayed my hometown as well as Thinian. "Where?" she asked simply. At first I wasn't sure if I could tell her anything else. Then, with the sudden realization that my life was on the line, I said: "West and slightly north. If you hit Meadow Run you've gone north a bit too much."The Khajiit stood and paced briskly from the cot. I lied back down and closed my eyes, Thinian's face suddenly burning into my thoughts. How could I be so cold?

I eventually drifted off into a terrible nightmare. Thinian was tearing across an open field, his face painted with dried blood and a look of fear. He was breathing heavy and kept stumbling over stones. As he neared the woodline the sound of an arrow being loosed, the thong of the bow string, the whistling sound it made as it soared through the air, echoed throughout the field. Thinian stopped suddenly and reached back to feel the arrow shaft dug deep into his back -- his face now cringed and contorted in pain. He moaned for a brief second then collapsed into the dust. The bowman creapt up to where Thinian now lay dying. He reached out, desperately clamping at loose dirt and dried foliage, anything that could possibly save him. As his killer approached, his eyes widened in terror. His heart rate increaed. He'd worked up blood from his lungs and was now gurgling and choking on it. He stared into the eyes of his killer.

Me.

I sat up violently, the sweat beading down my neck and dotting my forehead. The sun had set beautifully from over the ridge, cascading the sky in bright oranges, soft pinks, vibrant reds, and even a touch of purple. The air was still and stifling as it were. Mother and Kha'lel were nowhere to be found. I rolled over once and pushed myself off the bed, setting my feet to the floor and lifting up. The blood rushed swiftly from head and I stood swaying for a moment; temporarily blind. Once I had regained my senses I baby-stepped towards the window, resting my body against the hut wall and gazing aimlesly out the window. I felt utterly drained, even after drinking the milk with Hist sap just hours before.

"Where is everyone?" I asked myself aloud, having noticed the sudden feeling of abandonment I'd felt so many years ago when my mother left me standing helplessly in the street. I then realized that Thinian was in trouble. I'd known about the Khajiit and Bosmer conflict and still I foolishly ran my mouth. Why? Why had I said anything to begin with?

I quickly slipped my leather boots on and ran from Mother's hut. I was going to tear through the woods and go right back to Longhaven. I was going to save Thinian. That's when I noticed a small circle of iron spears burrowed near a large hut. I ran to them, plucked one, and continued on through the woods. I wasn't sure if I was heading the right direction, but at that point I couldn't have cared less. I slashed at foliage, creapt under low-hanging limbs and roots, crawled up trees, down hillsides, and even through a cave. My legs never tired but I hadn't eaten in nearly three days. My stomach growled at me angrily.

I was forced to stop and salvage for food. The moons had finally risen to dominate the night's sky. A pair of mango fruit would have to suffice. Thinian had shown me which plants were edible and which were poisonous. The skin was dangerous for men, but simply peeling it back would reveal a sweet, juicy core that any species could eat. I stuffed my face and dropped the other fruit in the pocket of my overcoat. I needed at least a few minutes of rest. I leaned up against the roots of monstrous tree who's top I couldn't see through the forest canopy. That's where I drifted off to sleep. The cricket of forest bugs, humming of insects, howling of distant beasts. It was a harmony I couldn't help succumbing to.

Whew! That was great writing, and an Awesome read!

I've been reading and I will comment too, but Modern Warfare 2 came out today and I am distracted.

Yes, we had to go to 3 stores before we found one that wasn't sold out. - The Graphics are AWESOME on it !!!!!

Edit: Ignore

Sorry for the shortness of each installments. If I write in too big of excerpts I'll get desperate for a story. This way I can keep my story fresh. Anyway...
I think it's time for another installment.


Three

"Wake up you!" a voice shouted from above me. I was startled from my sleep to see a Khajiit crouching high up on a thick tree branch. My first instinct was to run but instead I stood and gazed up at him, well prepared for a scuffle. "What are you doing sleeping there soft-skin? Don't you know it isn't safe in Valenwood? The Bosmer would eat you just as much as they eat themselves. Why are you sleeping?"

"I was tired. I've been running for a few hours now. Why are you up so high in the trees?" I asked.
The Khajiit lifted a paw to his face and began licking the top and bottom of it. He was clearly in no hurry. "I'm running too." he replied.
"From what? If you don't mind me asking that is..."

"Bosmer..."

I was suddenly filled with excitement. If there were Bosmer nearby then they'd surely know where Longhaven was. And if they knew where Longhaven was they could take me to Thinian. "Which direction could I find these Bosmer?" I asked, the Khajiit now having leapt to an entirely different limb. "Why would you want to find them? They're lunatics." he said with a frown. "Still, I need to find them."

"If you insist.."

"I do." I said, interrupting him altogether.

"...they're in that direction." He replied, before licking his paw one last time and leaping out of sight.

Good. Now I can get out of these woods and to Thinian.

Once again I sprinted through the forests of Valenwood, stopping only to scale a boulder or climb over a fallen tree. My lungs now felt invincible against the physical punishment I'd given them over the past few days. svcking in warm, moist air and blowing out quickly, I'd pushed myself farther than I'd ever thought I could go. I'd had my fill of adventure. I would return to Thinian, apologize, rest my heels for a few days, then get on my chores. All of this ran through my thoughts over and over again. I was already too deeply caught in thought to react when the crude little club swung round and smashed into my chest. It knocked me off my feet and I nearly blacked out as I landed hard onto my back. I moaned loudly, letting the nauseating waves of pain wash over me. "Wha... What the..."

One again someone hovered over my face, only inches away. "It's an Imperial!" said a very sqeaky voice I recognized as a Bosmer man. "Well it's food all the same." Another voice replied from further away. "Drag 'em over here and I'll start the cauldron." he mumbled half-heartily.

Then I slipped into uncomfortable unconsciousness. The bitter smell of smoke once again filled my lungs. I could feel myself being lifted but remained unable to wake or scream or even squirm free.

The feeling of cold water being splashed into my face woke me up. I had been tied up and was sitting in a large cauldron similar to the one Thinian owned. I tried to wriggle my hands free but they too were constricted. "What the hell is this!?" I shouted, more offended by the action than actually afraid. "Are you going to eat me?" I asked, still not entirely accepting of the idea of being boiled alive. "Well," began the taller, deeper voiced Bosmer to the right, "that had been the original plan. But I have the feeling your hoots and hollers are gonna make eatin' you pretty damn hard."

He sighed to himself and reached for the same club that had ended my marathon running just moments before. Seeing what the Bosmer was about to do, I admit, I pleaded for my life. "No! You can't use that!" I shouted. The Bosmer adopted a look of confusion. "And why the hell not?" he asked.
"It will take too long. Don't you think if I want to die I'd like to die quickly?"

"I don't see why it would matter..." he replied.

I gasped and gave the Bosmer a look of digust. "Wouldn't matter? By the Gods. It's apalling to think if I'm to be eaten I couldn't at least be given the common courtesy to decide how I want to be killed."

The Bosmer frowned first and then redrew himself to his fullest height. "Right. Do you want me to club you from the front? Or would you rather stare off into the woods and wait for it?" He laughed. "Wait, wait, wait!" I cried. "I've done nothing. Please! I'll give you septims. My boots? How about this nice leather coat?" I asked.

The Bosmer halted. He stood for a minute, gazing hopefully at the polished leather -- it's bright golden buckles and many pockets. "You'd give me that?" he asked.

"Of course I would. And anything else you want. Just come untie me and I'll give it to you immediately." I responded desperately.

Three (Continued)

By the grace of the Nine I believe I was able to escape the moronic Bosmer's clasp. Now entirely sure I was too late to save Thinian, I set off into the forest once more, this time at a brisk walk. All the while my mind wondered, thinking only of home and of Thinian. I had wronged him so and there would be no way to go back in time and fix things. He'd probably nearly had a heart attack when he realized I wasn't coming home. I felt guilt and fear seize my heart all at once. The Khajiit were probably going to ransack poor little Longhaven -- a city of retired thieves and old war families.

What in Oblivion could they possibly want with Longhaven? I pondered, staring down at the ground with each step I took. Then I stopped dead in my tracks and nearly wanted to cry when I realized what was about to or already did happen to Longhaven. While I was at Moonmont I never once saw Kha'lel's father. Wouldn't he have surely wanted to see my face or watch me while I lay in his house. He'd want to protect his family. The little village they lived in was poor and probably riddled with disease. Perhaps the young Khajiit's father was dead -- the village looking for a way to avenge the deaths of their warriors while . I couldn't help but let a girlish whine slip through my lips as I began to bound for Longhaven in panic. I let the tears stream down my face as I ran through the woods once again. This time however I did everything but halt for anything blocking the way. If I couldn't run through it I'd run around it.

I must admit in those few hours right before I emerged from the unending forest, I had slowly set my mind in a mode to kill someone or something. I was entirely focused on dispatching a Khajiit. I'll even admit I would've gone as far as killing a woman at that point. Now, whether or not I would've done it I would soon find out, but at the time, I was ready for just about anything. Or so I thought...

I felt free as I scrambled through some vines that had caught me in their grasped and exited the woods, standing nearly dead on my feet right on the tree-line. I had made it. By chance I had actually reached Longhaven. At first I was relieved, then I sniffed at the air, smelling that same bitter essence that a blazing fire would have. I scanned the outer boundary of the city then worked my way up. My search ended when I spotted a small brick house literally torn apart but only Talos knows what. This was odd, as there were no people running around the streets. Aside from the crackles and hisses and pops from some sort of distant fire, the town was basically home to an eerie silence.

The wind picked up and howled at me. Leaves tottered and rolled along the ground. It became cold in seconds. I felt alone.
A faint feral cry echoed throughout the city, casuing me to jump in excitement. I took off down the hillside towards Longhaven. Someone was still alive. The silvery moon above me just barely lit the way, but I carried on. I couldn't help but notice the stench; like sour meat and vegetation, or years of mildew caked endlessly on a moist bed cover or musty smelling moss lining the inside of a moist prison cell. It was foul and unforgiving.

I couldn't help but let my mind wander to thoughts of Thinian lying in a pool of his own blood. Helpless old Thinian, the Bosmer who'd given me a second chance at life. I was filled with rage. Should the Khajiit have killed him, I'd kill them all. Albeit, slowly, but dead all the same.

Whoever you are, pray you're dead before I get to you. Pray I don't find you. I'll kill you with my bare hands!

I'm sorry it took so long for me to get to this - but then again not, because I got to read the continuation - this left me breathless! I was riveted from beginning to end, could feel everything even the smells as you described. Your detail and descriptions bring the reader in to everything you write, causing them to experience for themselves the story as you weave it - Awesome, just Awesome!

Couldn't have put it any better myself. QFT!

Why thank-you! I was beginning to think I had lost readers. I'm not too sure if anyone besides you two are reading, but either way I'm truly attached to this story. It's the first fan-fic I've stuck beside for this long. Expect further installments from me in the future -- including now.

Four

I can't remember much else from that day. I stumbled on Thinian's mangled old corpse after a few fruitless hours of searching. He'd had his belly slashed open and from the looks of the blood stained down around his collar, has died considerably slow. The odd thing was that I noticed the amount of dead Khajiit who seemed to equally match the number of dead Bosmer. It had seemed as though one other party was involved. Yes. The steel arrows dotting the ground around me hinted towards Men. No Bosmer or Khajiit would use such an out-dated arrow. Lest I forget how expensive they would've been to obtain. No one near Longhaven or Moonmont would be able to afford the amount of arrows I could count just in the one hundred yard perimeter around me. Still, someone was to blame.

I sat crying for what felt like days. My tears left trails of exposed skin through the mud that had covered my face like a chambermaid patting make-up on her mistress. I could not carry on without him. How would I survive? How would I live knowing that I had been the cause of Thinian's death?

Years later I would discover it had been the fault of a potent guild known as the House of the Gold Kanet. They'd ransacked numerous cities near Valenwood and Elsweyr. They're only purpose of existence was to extinguish life. They'd branched off from that wretched End of Times society. Rather than killing themseles, the people of Tamriel wanted to face their demise. Having taken offense to this gesture, Eno set out to eliminating life one person at a time. He would be tried for countless murders and hanged just outside the gates of Mournhold. Fools. They rid the world of a villain only to give the enemy a martyr. As his followers grew in size, just before his demise, he created the House of the Gold Kanet to "aid" the peoples of Tamriel in joining our ancestors and the Aedra. They were blinded heretics -- morons at best!

So they were responsible. I set out to find them and eliminate them one by one until all of them were dead. I buried Thinian in his once beautiful garden of moon-tulips and red-eyed daisey's. Afterwards I salvaged what I could from the ruins and left Longhaven. I would never return to that snug little village. I didn't have the heart to.

Instead I headed north, towards Cyrodiil. Rumors had it, the House of the Gold Kanet had taken up refuge in some of the Ayleid ruins there. I set off for my first destination -- Ebon Ro. From what Thinian had taught me of Valenwood, I could always find cities near Cyrodiil in the north. After saying my goodbye's to Thinian, I began my melancholy journey for Ebon Ro. Little did I know of the 'adventure' to be had there.

Unending the Walk

After six long days and lonely nights, I would finally reach Ebon Ro. The journey was rigorous and wore me down further. I met a few colorful group of Bosmer along the way. I couldn't help but wish to stay with them. However, my company with them was ended shortly after I woke to find the eldest gnawing on the bones of the other three. It appeared to me he'd been starving and had finally given in to his insatiable hunger. Oh did I pray to whomever could hear me that the little bugger had grown tired of eating just before slitting my throat and roasting me on the spit. I purchased a steel shortsword in exchange for the spear I'd found in Moonmont. It felt good to rid myself of the cumbersome thing. I resupplied in Silvenar and left the following morning.

Ebon Ro

The quaint little village was located just below the River Strid, west of Thormar Keep. I'd reached the city, but simply asking for directions was another matter entirely. The city was made up mostly of Bosmer and Breton, a strange combination indeed. This is where I first managed to tap into my powers of will. I'd never before known about such abilities. I must admit however after running into a deranged Breton women wielding a spear, I felt the sense to paralyze her, and so it was. She halted suddenly, her mouth still agape but inaudible. She slowly tilted over, landing with a hard thump in a mess of piled up garbage. I was frightened for a moment. I'd believed I had killed the women.

"Talos forgive me! What have I done?" I cried out.

"Ahh. Seems you've managed to paralyze her." a voice replied from behind me.

I turned to see a hunched over old Breton, probably twice as old as Thinian if that were possible. His hair was as white as snow and the wrinkles lining his face were a testament to his age. "That must've been a pretty damn powerful spell for her to be out of it for so long."

I stared dumbly at the old man as he slowly made his way to my side. "Ah. It's Amarha. Gal must've over-dosed on skooma. She does like her skooma."

"Skooma?" I said, still slightly stunned I had paralyzed the woman.

"You've never heard of it? Well now, aren't you a lucky one..." he said with a tired smile.

Skooma would be the rue of me. I'd somehow been convinced by Amarha to take her to Cyrodiil to find her parents. She'd wanted to reconcile and hoped to quit using skooma. After a week in Ebon Ro, she'd grew on me. The old man, who's name escapes me, decided to join us. Forgive my lack of memory. It's been almost a century ago. Anyway, Amarha, the old man, and myself, left for the coast of Cyrodiil from the port at Ebon Ro on day seven of my stay. Our destination was a port city called Anvil. It was suppose to have been somewhere on the southern coast of Cyrodiil. During our boat ride I'd caught Amarha using the skooma in the mid-deck. Somehow, through some girlish charm, she'd convinced me to try it. That would be the day I decided skooma and I were to be best friends. How foolish I'd been.

They are reading it, just not posting. You have had 107 reads. I have to come back tomorrow and read this, so I will comment then (sorry, I am sick tonight, but I will def read it in the morning.)

I'm progressing the story too quickly. I'm going to post more tommorrow evening. I need time to think. Originality is key here. So I'm off to bed.
Goodnight all.

I'll fill in for mALX since she seems under the weather a bit.

In fact Milord Dren, I have just read the entire thread. I hope you will add me to your list of readers.

This is a nice, touching story. I hope you continue with it! :goodjob:

I would agree with your assessment to consider slowing things a bit - allowing time for readers to catch and keep up.

I can't give anything in the way of constructive criticism, but the story didn't really pick up for me until the third part. It's great so far, keep going and I'll keep reading.

Your writing, detail and descriptions are as good as ever. This chapter felt a little rushed to me, but I am extremely ill tonight, so it is most likely just me. Ignore that and let me come back and read it when I am well.

Thanks mALX. I do agree with you. I keep reading over everything I've written. I'm trying to write with some color and variation. I'm thinking about a tense leap. I'm tired of writing about his childhood. Hopefully the conversion will be subtle. I'll post another installment this evening.

I got that way with Maxical too. I didn't like writing her childhood parts, it was uncomfortable because children rarely have great personalities in writing - they are just there. Well I rushed it too, and everyone hated it. I went back later and edited it. It was much better then, but still a bit rushed, and I can feel it when I read it.

On yours though, like I said - I have the flu or something, so don't take my word for it at all. When I get feeling better I'll come back and try again.

If I ever do another story, I may have one scene at 2 years old, another at 12 years old, and let everyone use their imaginations on how those 12 years went, lol !!

Hahaha. After the group reaches Anvil I'm going to tie leap to twenty. I can't stand writing in his youth. Besides, nothing interesting occurs until his twenties anyway.

Time for yet another installment. Think I'm going to change the part font.

Five


We reached Anvil with relative ease. We had very few disputes with the captain of the ship and arrived at the port one foggy evening. The lighthouse focused it's ever-watchful beam on the ship, guiding the vessel in safely. Amarha and I stood against the wooden railing together, gazing out at the still waters of the bay. I'd never been on a boat before. Still, the sight of the sandy coasts of Cyrodiil tied in beautifully as the sun began to shine and smile from over a pair of distant mountains to the west. I felt a hunger for skooma gnawing inside me but did my best to ignore it.

I turned to Amarha and smiled. Over the two weeks I'd spent in Ebon Ro I'd grown very fond of her. Despite the addiction to skooma, her lack of any decent apparel, and a need for money, she was beautiful. She'd only just started using the poison, so her looks remained untouched. She had the softest, roundest cheeks that always seemed to be up in a pleasant little grin. Her eyebrows were sharp yet even and sometimes looked to be lined out with blackness. This gave her an air of wisdom. Her hair, although ill-kempt during most of the time I spent with her, was still as slick and smooth as a petal of Thinians red-eyed daisey's. It always held a lemony lime scent, which she claimed was due to her excessive use of aloe vera ground up in sload soap.

Her smile could melt your heart or turn your veins into a thick, slushy ice. Her thin lips and lack of any stress wrinkles suggested she'd lived a virtually pleasant life. Although, how she came to be such a wreck always eluded me. I suddenly felt guilty for using skooma with her so frequently. I knew she'd take on a battered old look after a few months. I'd slowly see her beauty fade away and eventually, I'd leave her behind.

To counter this, I put her through misery in taking away her skooma pipes and coin purses of moon sugar. She would slowly lose her addiction, tumble into a withdraw, beat it, and eventually quit using skooma altogether. I however couldn't resist the addiction. It drew me on, chained me to the wall, and fed me constantly. If I wasn't helping the old man earn a septim, I was using it. If Amarha didn't have any errands for the day, I was using it.

I had become one with the skooma pipe.

We'd been in Anvil for nearly six months and we still hadn't gained any financial ground. I'd already celebrated my eighteenth birthday with the old man, Amarha, and an awkward, older Nordic women named Ysthmar. She spoke loud and obnoxiously, and constantly missed rent payments we'd all decided to split. Amarha had gotten pregnant with my child and the old man became a bit of a drunkard. That's when I knew things had to change. We wouldn't make it much longer in the predicament we were in.

"Amarha, we have to leave them behind." I mumbled one evening after everyone had drifted off to sleep. I was sitting at the dining table staring endlessly in the pit of the fireplace -- where a dying flame licked desperately at the air. "What's wrong, love?" she asked, resting her hand on mine from the opposite side of the table. I lowered my voice to a whisper.
"We can't keep living like this with a child on the way."

"We can't afford anything else Detrinus. We have to stay here. Trust me, living here will make him more fit for life." she replied with a gentle smile.

Although her words soothed me some, I couldn't go to sleep knowing my child would live so terribly. I let the matter go for the time being.
Before I could rest my head on my pillow and drift into an uncomfortable sleep, an idea hit me like the Bosmer's club in Valenwood. I rolled over onto my back and glared at the stained and spotted dry-rotted ceiling -- not sleeping, but thinking. Plotting.

"Skooma..." I whispered to myself.

I spent most of the following morning trying to gather as many bottles of skooma and moon sugar I could find. I hustled down to the port of Anvil and hid my stash under the docks. I counted all the septims I had to my name and buried them in a large wool sack behind the house. I needed skooma addicts. I needed people who hungered for it just as I did. Amarha has already left for work that same morning. The old man was out drinking as usual. Ysthmar had left to see 'family' in Cyrodiil. I had the house to myself.

My first goal was to find someone in need of money. Pehnir the Beggar was my first choice. I found him digging around in a pile of trash that evening and offered him a job.

"You want me to steal it?" he asked with a toothless grin.

I retorted with a fake chuckle of amusemant and placed my hand on his grimy little shoulder. "No Pehnir. I want to offer you a proposition."

His brow raised in interest and he placed his hand under his chin in deep thought. "Hmm. What do I gotta do?" he finally asked.

"Well..."

I explained to him in detail, that same plan I'd spent an entire night working over. It was simple really. Now, to see my plan work through was all that remained. All I could do was simply watch and wait, hoping it would unfold as I so desperately wished.

Pehnir the Beggar

He woke on this Sundas morning and yawned aloud, stretching his sore bony arms out. He'd spent his entire night digging a hole large enough to hide a man. He wiped the crust from his eyes and stood up, stretching once more. He paced the distance of the alley and stuck his head out into the street. It was still too early in the morning for the streets to bustle with life. He then made his way to Detrinus' house and knocked rather obnoxiously on the wooden door.

After a brief second of waiting, an Imperial man swung the door ajar and peered at the beggar standing just outside his door. "It's behind the house. I pulled it up and left just against the wall. It's in a bag." the Imerial mumbled, still half-asleep.

Pehnir smiled with a nod and tipped an invisible hat to his accomplice.

After recieving th bag of septims Detrinus had left him, he made his way back to the narrow alleyway where he slept. Pehnir tossed the bag into a large wooden basket and covered it with filthy, old newsletters from the Black Horse Courier.

"Aye," he laughed in delight, "I'm bloody rich! That Imperial is quite the trickster." he concluded with yet another unsightly grin.


The day went on as usual for the small port city of Anvil. Peasants and nobles alike began to fill the streets and begin their day anew. Full of gossip and news, they each undoubtedly knew one another to a degree that made them feel as one. The Anvil guard patrolled the streets merrily, sure their day would be as easy-going as ever.

"There's a man about to jump! Look!" a young Imperial women shouted, pointing towards toothless old Pehnir as he stood atop the Fighters guild roof, waving farewell to all.

"My life is meaningless it is. My tears soak the collar of my linens more and more with each passing night."

The guards were brought to attention and gazed in fear at the homeless old Bosmer, wailing in agony at his failure in life. "Come down from there!" a guard began to plead.

"What for?" Pehnir replied with a scowl.

"You'll hurt yourself Pehnir."

"That's Pehnir the Beggar to you! To all of you! You're monsters! Can you not see I have a heart just as much as you?" he asked, his cheeks growing moist with salty tears. He was beginning to find truth in his own words.

"Pehnir, you pushed my son into the Bay." A Dunmer man called out to the Bosmer.

"Well, that was...different. The little fetcher took my lucky spoon." he retorted.

I made my way into the crowd and watched in amusemant as Pehnir played his part well. Most of the city had gathered around the scene of the suicidal bum about to end his misery. I began to make my way towards the group of guards. I had to be sure everyone was present for my plan to work.

I need some creative angst. Would someone like to PM me with a colorful idea?

I just read chapter one and it is briliant! I will finish up reading the rest now, good work Dren!