Why would you feel that you're intruding? Don't worry, Frank doesn't bite.

Much.

Nice chapter. I started it, got about 3/4 through and had to get off. Forgot it until now somehow.

I really wish I was as good at fiction as you are, honestly.. /sigh

See, Frank? I told you I'm not the only one.

maybe he does not want to attract the wrath of the forum writing gods...

If anything the Forum Writing Gods will shower him with gifts for reviving interest in the old fanfic that has gone ignored for some time.

it is great. Now I am on the list of people who want to be able to write like you...

You know...we could all make our own fan club. FFF, "Fans of Fantastic Frank"

I call making the forum, I would like to write like Frank as well.

Took me a while, but I finally found time to read your chapter... and reread the rest of story along with it.

redsrock, you might be noticing his excellent use of First Person Close point-of-view. Likely picked up from his years of RPing in exactly that form. When he's such a good RPer, it's small surprise he's good in writing in that style as well.

Good chapter, obviously. The flashback threw me off a bit, since I wasn't quite sure why it was put in when it was--it had some emotional links, I suppose, but still seemed a bit out of place to me. Ah, well. :shrug:

I'm excited for her to finally get out into the world, since the storyline is much less structured after that, and I'm curious as to what she'll do. Although I think she might have her hands full with trying to get past the Gatekeeper, even if she does manage to to retrieve the handkerchief.

This chapter was doomed to be short or excessively long, so I decided on short instead. I'm not sure if I really like how it turned out, but we'll see what you folks say. If everyone agrees it is BS, I will try to rewrite it.

Chapter 12: Tears of the Womb
Siena crouched in the nook of the rocks, watching the plaza where the Gatekeeper stood with nervous shuddering. It was so close, so unbearably close; if it noticed her, it would charge, and in her spot of hiding she would be powerless against its rotten muscular force.

But she had to hide here, and wait until midnight. So far the atrocity had yet to notice her, or maybe it had but did not care, as she had yet to set foot upon the polished white stones of the Gate. Either way, she could not risk leaving this spot to search for Jayred's body; she wasn't even sure she wanted the conformation of his death. This close to that horrid thing, she needed some form of hope, even if it was the slim hope Jayred was still alive. The only thing she had done was grab the bow she had dropped on the way to her hiding place.

Time passed without Siena's immediate awareness, and soon she heard the step of feet upon stone. Tensing, she pressed herself even closer to the rock, trying to become one with it. In the darkness, she made out a form small above, and large below, moving swiftly towards the Gatekeeper. In the light of the moon golden hems caught the light, and further revealed the dark form.

"Well, my child-" The voice was undoubtedly Relmyna's. "-how are you this evening?" The Gatekeeper lumbered towards her, and Siena watched as it knelt on one knee to be closer to Relmyna, and gave a garbled groan.

"I am so proud of you, my child." Relmyna's voice had dropped, and Siena found herself unconsciously leaning forward to hear better. "You crush our Lord's enemies to dust." She sounded proud indeed, and the Gatekeeper made a noise Siena had never heard from it before; like a happy whine. She blinked in surprise, mouth dropping.

"You are strong like Him." Relmyna replied, raising a hand up to caress the sandpaper flesh of the undead being, cupping the massive cheek in her hand. "I made you for Him." She spoke even softer, and Siena narrowed her eyes. The Gatekeeper titled its head to one side quizzically. Maybe it too had detected the somberness of her tone. "But despite that? still He refuses me. Why? Why?" She withdrew her hand, plucking at something near her bodice. Siena heard a sniffle.

Relmyna was actually crying. Siena never thought she would actually be witness to such a moment, when that vile witch of a woman actually cried, revealing femininity beneath her disgusting hide. But here it was; and she had to get those tears.

She was tempted to dash out and take the handkerchief now, and run. But the Gatekeeper stopped her. Not with a physical confrontation, but with its action towards Relmyna. Its hand actually reached for the necromancer, and it emitted a low whine. Despite the gruesome countenance of the thing, she couldn't stop herself from thinking of a small child, reaching out to a crying mother and seeking to comfort her.

Relmyna broke this image when she stepped back, dropping the handkerchief on the white stone in her haste to get away. "No! Remember what happened last time, when you touched my tears? Keep away!" The Gatekeeper emitted a pained whine as Relmyna turned and ran, dress fluttering behind her in the night.

Siena was paralyzed with amazed confusion. Had she just witnessed an expression of emotion? of love? from that abomination? Was it even possible for the undead to have emotion? There was no doubt something emotional had occurred, but was the Gatekeeper's reaction truly emotional?

A soft moan made her jolt, and she looked at the Gatekeeper as it sat down on the stone floor, staring without eyes at the stairs from which its 'mother' had come. Siena balked, a cold tingle washing over her. It was emotional. And such a discovering was disgustingly horrifying. She'd actually instilled true soul into that hunk of flesh. It wasn't just an abomination of the body; it was an abomination of soul.

How long she waited, Siena forgot, but the Gatekeeper finally rose and turned its back to the stairs, looking at the large bust of a man between the two gates. It was now or never, and Siena had no intention of sitting there a moment longer.

The agile Dunmer thief dashed to the edge of the white stone plaza, reaching out her hand and snatching up the handkerchief before throwing herself to the side, to avoid landing on the plaza. When she stopped skidding, she got up and started running, not bothering to look back and see if the Gatekeeper followed.

~*~*~*~*~

When Siena arrived back in town she moved straight to Jayred's hut, having no trouble getting there as no one but Relmyna would be up. The image of the necromancer sniffling in a heap on her desecrated bed made Siena smirk, and she entered the hut without even flinching at the boney d?cor.

She set the handkerchief down on the table, and moved through the hut with a purposeful vigor, looking through the barrels for something. She apparently failed to find it, as she ended up staring at the chest by the door instead, before pulling Jayred's lockpick out of her boot and kneeling before it.

When the lock clicked and she lifted the lid, she smiled sinisterly. She had found her quarry, and lifted the remains of the Gatekeeper femur from the chest, setting it on the floor near the table. The best way to kill something is with the bones of its own. Jayred's words echoed in her mind, and she sat on the bench, looking at the femur for a moment. Slowly, her iron dagger ?the one Belmyne had tried to kill her with- was removed from the sheath, and she got up, sitting on the floor next to the bone.

She had the arrows, she had the tears. But there was one thing in her arsenal missing; one weapon against the Gatekeeper she didn't have. She needed the best weapons possible if she were to fight that thing alone. And as Jayred said, the best weapon was a bone. Siena closed her eyes, pushed her glasses up her nose, and exhaled slowly.

I'm doing this for them? Belmyne, Jayred, Nanette? All of them. I can't afford to take chances. I have to do this. She brought the dagger to the surface of the bone, angling the edge.

For them.

I felt giddy when I saw you had made a post here... I think I am insane...

Does that mean you liked the chapter?

Me too! Loved the way you presented this, FC. I'm envious of your talent.


I'm guessing so.

Chapter 13: Kill the Gatekeeper, Part 2
The sun peaked in the sky, sending rays of light upon the denizens of the Shivering Isles. A few rays pierced the windows of Jayred Ice-Vein's hut, the dust in the air sparkling like magic as the light cast itself upon dank, dirty wooden floorboards. It served to illuminate the home in a soft light, though still manifested as those intense beams upon the ground. The only other light source was the weak glow of the embers in the fireplace, the flame long dead to the chill of night.

It was in this dimness that Siena awoke, silently lifting herself with one arm into a leaning posture and looking through her hair at the surroundings. It was all a blur, but an organized blur, and she could make out the stairs and fireplace, and the dagger in her hand, but everything was fuzzy, like she was drinking. Where am I? She wondered, looking around and then searching the ground for her glasses. After putting them on, she registered where she was, and frowned. It wasn't a dream? She had been hoping fervently it was all a dream. But for naught, as she still awoke to her nightmare.

Siena further looked about the area, grimly picking up a collection of ivory shavings on the ground. She let them fall like sand through her fingers before reaching for her creation, picking it up. The shortsword was a child's production in quality, but it would have to do. She'd managed to make it marginally balanced and sharp, and that would have to be good enough. Reluctantly she rose and went to the table, sitting down with a sigh.

She ignored the food and mechanically began to wipe the neckerchief on the blade of the bone sword, her eyes distant. It had to be done. I can't allow myself any disadvantage. It has to die! I have to kill it! Have to?

Siena cried out in frustration, flinging the sword at the archery target Jayred hung on the wall by the stairs. The sword spun and stuck in the wood perfectly. Siena slammed her fists on the table, plates and food jumping, before sagging her head and breaking out in tears.

"I can't do it? I can't kill it?" She murmured hopelessly. "It's? It'll just kill me, like it did Jayred?"

"Then how are you supposed to get revenge, Siena?" A male voice broke in, and caused the Dunmeri maiden to blink, fall silent, and look up hastily. Sure enough, Belmyne was there, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, smirking. "How are you supposed to bring us back to Tamriel and help us, if you've given up?"

Siena blinked again, staring at Belmyne. She didn't even register that he was dead, only that he was there. She stared at him teary-eyed for a while, contemplating his words and then sighing in defeat. Reprimanded, she stood up and walked to the target, pulling the sword out and polishing it with the tear-soaked neckerchief again as she moved to the table. Tears still came down her cheeks, but she bit her lip as she worked.

"You're right, Belmyne. I can't give up. Then that bastard would win." She muttered, setting down the sword and drawing arrows from the quiver on the table.

"Of course I'm right. When have I been wrong?" Belmyne asked, and Siena cracked a smile.

"Oh, I remember the time when-" She began, only to stop when she turned around and found Belmyne gone. Her lips quivered as tears welled in her eyes again, and she brought the neckerchief close to her chest. "Belmyne?" Her voice was a crackled whisper. "Thank you? For everything."

~*~*~*~*~

It was a belief firmly ingrained in her heart and mind from the days of her youth, a part of her culture and who she was. The ancestors of her people, the spirits of those loved ones dead and passed on, would always be there for her, to help her and guide her. And so it was with confidence Siena placed a furred boot upon the final step to the Gates of Madness, and slipped her bow off her shoulders. She felt in her heart that Belmyne's spirit was with her, to guide and protect her.

And of all the people in the world, she would never let her beloved down.

Smoothly she knocked the bone arrow, her consciousness so focused that her queasiness was ignored, her determination overriding her fears. Face set for battle, she leveled the bow, glaring through her lenses at the giant blubber of rotted flesh that was her foe, her fear, her obstacle. Through the special glass she could see it clearly, make out those unholy symbols that kept it alive, and grit her teeth in anger at the atrocity that it was before firing.

The arrow sailed forth and struck, hitting the Gatekeeper in the right shoulder. It stumbled as a harsh, grating cry of pain emitted from the mouth-less ogre, and its left hand reached up to grab at the arrow. The being shuddered as it ripped the arrow out, tossing it to the ground, and turned towards Siena.

The Hlaalu agent's eyes went wide, and that determination began to slip, her fears fighting back. It? failed? The fleshy horror lumbered forward, its sword arm swinging back sloppily as blood oozed from its shoulder. Siena braced herself, before launching to the side and rolling into a crouch as the massive cast iron blade slashed down, not a moment too soon. Holding her pose she drew another arrow swiftly and knocked, aiming the bow at an awkward slanted angle and firing.

This arrow didn't quite hit the mark, but still nicked the shoulder and stuck to the flabby skin, barely puncturing at the bad angle. The Gatekeeper let out another tormented wail, turning towards her and swinging with its fist. Siena leapt to dodge, but ended up directly in the swing-back of the backhand. The impact knocked the wind from her lungs and she felt magicka surge through her, before she was flung across the plaza to the ground.

Siena had certainly not expected the Gatekeeper to use magic, but it hadn't helped the Gatekeeper much. The dark glow of destructive energies sparked over her skin, only to be absorbed in pinprick flashes of light by her body. Silently thanking the gods for her birthsign, she picked herself up as the Gatekeeper lumbered towards her and reached back for an arrow.

But the quiver was empty; they'd fallen out when she was flung across the plaza, and were twigs strewn over the ground. Panicking, Siena dived, narrowly avoiding the sword chop as she rolled and grasped one of the arrows on the ground, knocking and pulling back. She didn't have time to fire, however, and that nuisance hand sought to slap her again, and she had to leap backwards, releasing the bowstring and holding the arrow to the bow with her left hand alone in order to catch herself and complete the flip, landing on her feet again. She hastily pulled back again and aimed, firing at the giant chest as the Gatekeeper righted itself.

The behemoth stumbled back, falling onto the large statue between the two stairs, before collecting itself and lumbering forward drunkenly. Its entire body was shuddering violently as it moved, trying to get to the woman that tormented it so. Siena stepped back, reaching for her shortsword; all the remaining arrows were on the ground near the Gatekeeper. She was running out of options fast.

Another step, and the Gatekeeper roared, throwing its sword arm into the air and seeking to divide the Dunmer in two equal halves. Siena gulped, tensed her legs and prepared for the worst.

An arrow whistled in the air, before a soft groan echoed from the monster. Siena took the chance offered in the moment of hesitance, and jumped at the Gatekeeper, slamming her sword into the rotted gut. As she impacted against her foe and the blade pierced, the giant tottered backwards, before crashing to the ground on its back and sending Siena rolling out of control to the ground near its head. She remained there, legs splayed out and arms flopped, catching her breath in a daze.

Siena brushed her hair behind her ears and pushed her glasses up her nose, looking through the grey lenses to see a man standing on the plaza, holding a bow in front of him. She was stunned into silence as the man stumbled to her, sitting himself on the ground.

"Jayred?"

"Congratulations. The Gatekeeper is slain." Jayred replied with a smile. He sounded like he was in pain, though, which made Siena worry. She looked over her shoulder to the Gatekeeper, as if to check it was indeed dead. When she looked back she got on her knees and moved towards Jayred.

"You're hurt."

"It's fine, it's fine." Jayred waved her off, looking at the Gatekeeper. "You did well; the honor of taking the keys from his corpse is yours." The Nord told her, changing the subject without hesitance. Siena bit her tongue, recoiling. She'd actually have to?

Jayred looks like he's near death. He can't do it. And the keys are the only way? but where are they? She wondered, slowly rising to her feet and stepping towards the corpse. She approached the head ?nearly as large as she- and rested her hands hesitantly on the sandpapering flesh, looking at the face. She gasped and gagged at what she saw. In the wells of its eye sockets the flesh was bulging in the shape of a key. One of them was in there.

Why does it always have to be the WORST possible outcome?! Siena snarled as she forced herself to draw Belmyne's dagger, and jabbed at the eye. Well, it could be worse actually? But this is hardly any better! The entire time she had her eyes shut as she cut out the flesh around the bulge, and tossed it aside. She opened them again to look at the result.

The key was there, sewn onto muscle loosely. Lower lip quivering and stomach about to flip, she wrapped her fingers under the key and against the flesh, and pulled. Blood sprayed out and speckled her body. Groaning in disgust she dropped the key, and moved to the other side of the head to repeat the process.

When she was finished, Siena was a gruesome polka dot painting of blood, and had two keys in her hands, flesh still dangling in small shreds from the thread that held it on the corpse. She'd left the bone sword purposely along with the bone arrows, unwilling to continue using them now their purpose was served. She stopped as she was heading for one of the stairs by male voice. It was a familiar bretonic voice, and the tone was sarcastic at first, then moderately disappointed.

"So, you've managed to kill the Gatekeeper. Pity."

I can't believe I haven't checked this out sooner!

First, let me say that I haven't played the SI quest yet, and as such all my first impressions of it are coming from you and this story. I don't already have a picture in my mind of what it should look or feel like, so it's a really good thing that I got very vivid images from this fic so far.

The scene that first really grabbed me was the initial exchange between Siena and Haskill. There was an underlying intensity to this scene that was really unsettling ? I think it was the combination of Siena's weariness, her bad vision playing up to the primeval fear of blindness, Haskill's indifference, the darkness, and the ticking of the metronome. I also liked the way you drew attention to the dagger ? it seemed threatening, just hovering on the edge of the scene. The whole thing was very effective.

Another thing that's handled well is how upset and horrified Siena is at Felas and Sheldon's lack of concern in the first Gatekeeper fight. Another very basic fear is when people you like and trust become totally unrecognisable, and you put that across very successfully. It's good how you put lots of little bits and pieces in to remind us how uncomfortable Siena is, too ? like not having any boots, being hungry, wet and dirty, having nowhere to sleep. It all adds to the atmosphere of uneasiness.

Your narrative is realistic, too ? very often, people have their characters get into major fights and tramp all over the country without getting once needing a rest, but I thought it brought an excellent sense of realism to the story as you describe how fighting and casting magic wears Siena out. Most authors don't think about that; they just have people firing spells off one after the other with no effort whatsoever. I liked that you actually acknowledged the lore about birthsigns and magicka in this way, too. The same goes for weapon and armour degradation. Little things, like mentioning Siena testing the string of the old iron bow to make sure it's sound, are the kinds of things so many people gloss over in favour of overblown and impractical action scenes.

Like I said, I haven't played the expansion yet, so at first I didn't realise your merchant ship's crew actually made up the real cast of SI. I really love how you did this. I like it when people take existing characters and run with them, even if they're just background names with no prior exploration whatsoever. It really makes use of the game's potential for fiction, and as a result the story is more engrossing because you already recognise the people in it. It also makes Siena's personal experience of SI much more disturbing and poignant, because she knew them before they were irreparably twisted. The hint of attraction between her and Jayred is unexpectedly sweet, though - his bone fixation doesn't seem as scary as it should be. It's something separate, something that's been forced on him instead of an actual a part of his personality. I think that makes him a bit less threatening and more likeable.

The constant little reminders of Morrowind worked into the story are good. It adds depth and a little bit of nostalgia to those who've played both games. By the way, this:



made me laugh out loud. Totally reminded me of Ron in Chamber of Secrets when he's like, "Follow the spiders? Oh god!! Why couldn't it have been 'follow the butterflies!?'" :hehe:

All in all, very engaging, realistic and nicely-written. I feel like you got more of a hang on your writing as the story progressed; you seemed to settle more into Siena's character and describe her thoughts more eloquently. I'm really enjoying it More please!

I think the best thing about reading that, Rumple, is the fact that a majority of what you have mentioned was unintentional, but wonderful to have as a result. For that reason I think I will have to ignore your comment from now on as I write, in order to continue being unaware of these traits .

I'm really glad you are liking it though, it is remarkably fun to write. It'll only get more fun as it progresses and Siena continues to lose her mind. ^_^ The chapter introducing Haskill remains the most absolute fun for me to write though. It was just so exciting to write it.

I just recently erupted from my writer's block with the last three chapters, and wrote this next one immediately after the last. So I've waited until now to post it up.

Chapter 14: Mania and Dementia
Siena turned in place, her shoulders rotating towards the speaker, but her hips remained in place, still about to take another step. She finally moved one foot towards the man, to better her balance.

"Yeah, I did. So?" She snapped hotly. She'd not forgotten the irritation Haskill had given her the last time they met.

"Well, you'll now be able to enter the Realm proper. You'll notice there are two doors. One leads to the lands of Mania. The other to Dementia. Enter through either one." Haskill told her dutifully, reciting a script line for line. He's a terrible actor.

"And what's the difference?" Siena asked, now turning fully to face Haskill and folding her arms, arrogantly jutting out one hip and slouching.

"The lands of Mania are bright, vibrant, and full of color. You'll find its inhabitants reflect the land itself. If you wish to meet the residents of Mania, you'll find them in the settlements of Hale and Highcross. Take care, though. Though the citizens and creatures of Mania are colorful, they can often be quite deadly. I'm sure you can handle it, though." The compliment came dryly, lacking interest or conviction, and made Siena feel as special as the multitude of dead adventure bones around her.

"The lands of Dementia reflect the darker side of its residents." Haskill continued carelessly. "It is easy to get lost among the tangle of roots growing out of the ground. If you wish to meet Dementia's citizens, seek them out in Deepwallow or Fellmoor. I'm sure they'll welcome one such as you with open arms."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Siena snarled, reaching for the iron dagger at her belt. Just like last time, she paused, unsure if she should strike, or let this man carry on.

"It means whatever you make of it." Haskill replied, shrugging in a courtly, elegant fashion that only made him even more pompous and haughty. "You may enter through either one. Really, it depends on which aspect of the Realm more suits your disposition." The last word was spoken slowly, and he had narrowed his eyes disgustedly at her. "As I've said, all choices have consequences, but don't trouble yourself too much with your decision. All those that enter the Realm are forever changed, but some believe it is for the better. A good portion of them, at least."

Haskill suddenly seemed to remember something, and reached into his buckled blouse, pulling out a delicately folded piece of parchment. "Here." He told her curtly, and Siena snatched the parchment from him with a glare. "You'll want to seek out Lord Sheogorath. I believe He has plans for you. Try not to disappoint Him." Haskill sighed, and Siena looked up at the man, frowning.

"More of this champion stuff, huh? Where is he?" Siena inquired, her aggravation lowering as Haskill proved even more useful.

"You will find Him in New Sheoth, in His palace." Haskill explained, before tilting his head to one side a small degree. "It is best not to make Lord Sheogorath wait. His whims are fleeting, and should He decide you are no longer necessary, it would be to your detriment."

"Yeah yeah whatever. I'm his guest and he should account for travel time. I'm no god after all. Can't appear wherever I bloody well wish." She shot this remark dryly at Haskill, who raised one eyebrow with supreme eloquence before sighing.

"My work is never done." He retorted, and right before her eyes began to deteriorate. Dark purple light swirled around him as he faded, becoming transparent. Siena snarled, snapping out one hand to try and grab the man by the collar and give him a piece of her mind. She grasped thin air, flexed her fingers, and growled.

Shoving him from her mind, Siena unfolded the parchment he had given her, looking at it. It was? a map. She stared at it, looking over the details. So? this is the Fringe? And New Sheo is here. From this map, the most direct route to New Sheo seemed to be the Low Road, which ran through Dementia and 'The Hill of Suicides'.

"Peachy?" Siena muttered, folding up the map and sticking it in her boot along with the one lockpick. Hearing steps behind her, she looked to see Jayred standing there, stalwartly holding his bow and waiting for the Gates to open.

"You get them gates open, and I'm going in. They call to me." Jayred muttered, and Siena nodded, sighing.

She had to get to Sheogorath; that much was certain. She had to find him, and either beat the royalty out of that Daedric Prince ?and his irritating Chamberlain- or convince him to give her back her comrades, somehow. Both were about as impossible as her being able to fly, but Siena didn't care. All her life her superiors had advocated her determination, to never stop no matter the obstacle. She wasn't about to ignore their preaching now. Pushing her glasses up her nose again she moved up the stairs, chainmail cuirass clinking softly. One of the two doors, the southern one, stood before her, and she stared at it.

It was less of a gate, and more of a tunnel into infinite darkness. Even the sun as it angled towards the horizon on its afternoon descent failed to pierce into the darkness of that tunnel. Siena looked up and saw the ceiling of the gate, which towered over even the Gatekeeper. With Jayred behind her, Siena began to walk into the tunnel, her fur-lined steps damped by the sheer size of the gate.

Somewhere within the dark depths, Siena was forced to stop as her hand began to shake, and she looked at it with horror. One of the keys, the dark blue and spiked one, had begun to glow, and she dropped it and the other key. Both began to glow, and then lifted into the air in front of them, before disappearing in a flash that blinded Siena.

Once the light faded from her vision, she looked around, uncertain. There was a stone platform ahead, so she walked onto it, emerging from the gate to the afternoon sun. Even in the daylight it was dank and foggy, and she couldn't make out much beyond a few yards, glasses or no. Cautiously she tread forward, taking step after step and growing a little more confident with each one.

She girlishly squealed when a trail of sparkling green lights danced in front of her and then weaved off ahead in the air. Hands on her heart, she sighed, head dropping to the ground. Get yourself together Siena. It was just? whatever that is. She looked up again at the dancing lights, curious. A hand nervously reached out, but just as she was about to touch the lights they skittered off, swerving into the air in wild yet elegant motions. And then Jayred ran off ahead.

"Wait? Jayred hold on!" Siena took off after him, trying to keep up with the athletic Nord. After a minute or so she gave up, plopping herself down with a huff in the grass and leaned her head back against a tree. "Just like all men, gets what he wants then up and leaves." She grumbled, and then laughed softly at her own joke. She stopped laughing when there was a creak of wood, and she opened her eyes, looking up.

Looking back down were eight eyeballs, attached to wood by small stalks that sprouted from a mangling of branches and trunk. The tree was carved in places, the bark removed to reveal smooth wood in a fashion that resembled a skull. Through the teeth of this skull emitted a soft glow of green light, and a wisp of emerald smoke curled out.

Siena tensed up, and slowly turned herself around so her back faced away from the creature. On all fours, she began to stalk backwards, slowly moving away from it. The thing tilted its head to one side, the eight eyeballs watching her, before what she once thought were roots lifted off the ground; they were arms. Three thick claws of carved wood protruded from the ends of the branches, the arms double jointed and tree-like. Siena froze, but it made no other move, and she began her retreat once again.

Another set of roots shifted, and the entire 'tree' rose off the ground, held up by three double-jointed legs in a tripod fashion. The creature lifted its front leg and leaned back, reaching out and taking what looked to be a very off-balance step. The two back legs jolted forward as the entire creature lurched toward her, arms reaching to skewer her flesh. Siena screamed, balling herself up and rolling away.

Getting out of the roll with one hand and drawing the iron dagger with the other, she looked at the tree creature as it righted itself and turned to face her, those eight eyes staring and never blinking. Siena shuddered and turned away as it lopsidedly charged. Coiling herself she sprung up onto a rock cliff running along the left side of the road, pulling herself up and turning to see the tree run into the rocks, stumbling back.

Going on pure instinct Siena jumped, landing on the thing's shoulders. Bracing her feet against its inner elbows to prevent it from reaching back to her, Siena frantically stabbed at the skull of the tree, swaying with the beast as it went this way and that and tried to dislodge her.

After what seemed like an eternity it fell backwards, pinning Siena to the ground with its head on her stomach. Siena gasped in pain, but on a good note? the beast stopped moving. Siena just stared at the sky as she laid there, a mutant tree being between her legs and pinning her stomach to the ground. Vivec help me? even the trees are murderous? What is this place?"

Another great chapter! i love how irritated Siena is by Haskill. I'm assuming she's gone into Dementia? I'm looking forward to seeing how she fares with the Hill of Suicides. I also love how you keep her black humour - she, and by extent you I suppose, has a fatalistic sarcasm that I find very appealing. It keeps a bit of light in what otherwise might be an extremely dark narrative.

Looking forward to more

I seem to have that fatalistic sarcasm, yes; it seems only natural to me to try and find humor in ANYTHING, be it decapitation or dancing daisies. Or decapitation of dancing daisies. I find it natural to me, and it just seems right for Siena as well, who has proven to be cynical on a few occasions.

Chapter 15: Please Don't Feed the Grummites
"Siena! Siena wake UP!" A youthful male voice called out to her, echoing as if far off. Siena frowned, aggravated at being disturbed in her sleep. "Siena, you lazy n'wah! You're going to miss the ceremony!"

Siena opened her eyes, partially at first, then fully. The world around her was blurry but she could make out Belmyne's fit young form, his handsome young face. He was leaning over her, close to her and clearer than the world behind him. He looked to be ten, maybe twelve years old. "They're swearing your papa into the position of Councilor today, remember? Don't you want to be at the ceremony?" Belmyne asked her with a jesting scowl. Siena smiled.

"Yeah, I'll be ready in a second?" Siena whispered, and raised herself onto one elbow before pausing, perplexed. It didn't feel like a bed beneath her. It felt hard and unyielding, like rock. And the light around her was soft, like firelight, the colors blurring into splotches of browns and mold greens in her fuzzed vision. This wasn't her house, and as she looked around, she could not find Belmyne either. What she did see made her tongue knot up and nearly choke her.

Through a thin wooden gate she could see the blurred form of a hulking humanoid beast roughly half her height, with spikes on its back. It reminded her of a fat goblin, and it stood between a small campfire and a pavilion of sorts fashioned from wooden poles and an animal skin roof. In the firelight Siena saw a glint of dulled metal. The surrounding area was new to her, but the form was familiar. It was that same sort of hideous monstrosity she had first met when entering this realm. Apparently, the goblin anology wasn't too far off; it was as primitive and intelligent as a goblin, and equally getting on Siena's nerves.

The thing was holding something, inspecting it. Siena could only guess what thanks to her glasses missing. This brought the question of where they were, where she was? and how the hell she'd gotten here. She shifted her position slowly to try and find the spectacles on the ground, but a surge of stinging pain made her bite her lower lip and stop moving.

Still biting back the urge to cry out, she looked at herself, and found the cause of the pain; her right thigh was gashed, and it looked like a wolf attack. She tried to wrack her aching brain for the cause of this sudden injury.

She walked down the path cautiously, looking around the cliff that flanked her left side for an enemy in the distance. The grasses to her right shifted, and as she turned a form charged her, hitting her thigh before she could even register what it looked like. She hit the cliff wall... And that was as far as she could remember. Frowning, Siena tried to take inventory of her situation further without moving. Her chainmail cuirass and furred boots were on, along with the pants. She could still feel the lockpick in the boot, along with Belmyne's iron dagger in the other. Siena smirked wickedly; the thing was indeed as intelligent ?or less so- as a goblin.

She needed to escape. Needed to heal, needed to find her glasses, needed to get out of wherever she now was. Slowly dragging herself towards the gate of her confinement, she bit back the throbbing pain and reached into her boot for the lockpick.

The lock was as primitive as the prison 'bars', and in half a minute Siena had cracked it open without issue. But she knew the gate wasn't going to be an obstacle; killing her captor in her state was the true obstacle. But unlike before, she could not see any source of water in the area; one point in her favor. The other was the element of surprise.

Siena closed her eyes, searching within herself for that large pool of magicka common to those of the Atronach. While it was still dwindled, unable to recover from the more recent uses, there was enough for her purpose, and while still lying on the ground, she delicately pushed open the gate.

The other hand was pulsing with magicka, and Siena lifted herself using the gate, weakly thrusting this hand out at the offending blur-monster. The magicka ignited and shot forth, fire rushing through the air. The impact was not largely explosive, but sent the beast stumbling.

Right into the campfire.

The resulting cries of agony made Siena shut her eyes as the thing began to flail about, only fanning the growing flames. She couldn't erase the feeling that a frog being burned alive would make a very similar noise, and those unease-inducing cries echoed in her mind long after the toad-man-thing had collapsed and died of third degree burns. Grimacing at her bittersweet victory, Siena crawled towards the campsite of the now prone form, searching the ground. Finally she felt thin, cool metal on her fingers, and scrambled to put on her lenses and see the world clearly once more.

The sudden shift from dull, dim, and blurry to dimmer, duller, and clearer induced further headache in the Dunmer. Groaning, she reached for Belmyne's dagger, crawled to the bedroll the creature had slept upon once, and began to shred it. If she was going to make it out of here, she had to properly tend to the wound. It was dried and scabbing, but if there were more of those frog-faces, it wouldn't remain that way. Siena sincerely hoped there weren't, or there could possibly be healing potions somewhere in this place.

There was only one way to go when she'd managed to get steady on her feet, and that was through the hall beyond. Grabbing the spear-point dagger of the burnt corpse for extra armament, she proceeded to stumble down the hall, her clumsy steps softened by the moss of the tunnel floor. Navigating was even more difficult because of the tint of her lenses (which, ironically, was supposed to help her see; the craftsmen had not accounted for dungeon dives) dimming the already low lighting given off by the bulbous blue flora she occasionally passed.

Thankfully, the tunnel was relatively level; unfortunately, it also led right into a four-way intersection occupied by not one, but two of the beasts. Their skin glistened like slime in the light of two torches erected at the entrance of the tunnel to her left; a tunnel going down. The tunnel opposite her went up. Siena frowned as she carefully crouched into a nook in the rock wall of her tunnel, shrouded in shadow and soft, dim blue light.

Torches mean encampments. Encampments mean more of them. Uphill slope means it is likely to lead to the surface, out of here. But it could also be a dead end. And I am in no condition to fight even two of these, let alone more? As she was musing in the darkness, the two beings had wandered towards separate halls. Snapping at the opportunity to get at least somewhere, Siena dashed for the hall to her immediate right, remaining close to the wall and barely maintaining poise. When she'd made it into the hall and around a bend without incident, she thanked Vivec for the moss beneath her feet, collapsing to rest.

After the pain in her thigh had begun to dull, and no further danger was imminent from either direction of the tunnel, Siena rose and carried on, a tight grip on both daggers making her dark blued knuckles turn white. She slowly made her approach, hiding her slim form behind a large mold-green blob with mangrove-like roots before coming out in full view to find a dead end.

She did frown, but she did not turn away. She found her attention grabbed by a certain thick root that came from the ceiling and continued into the floor. It was blotched in bright spots of hardened sap, and those strange lights she'd first seen when passing through the Gates of Madness danced now in front of the root. Only now they were orange and danced far more frantically. Slowly, she stepped up to the root and brushed her fingertips over the smooth amber, before smiling.

Hlaalu minds thought primarily of three things; survival, political strength, and wealth. Siena raised the crude spear-tip dagger she'd confiscated, and began to carve at the amber, wedging the blade between crystallized sap and hard wood. Small, light chucks came loose, and these few chunks she pocketed. The beautiful amber looked valuable, if the Shivering Isles proved to have a market; and if it had guards, Siena would not be able to pilfer for her meals. And wealth meant influence; she'd need all the leverage she could get against the Mad God, any diplomatic or aggressive might she could grasp.

Siena gasped as a strange gas spewed from a tree trunk, the thick cloud of green suffocating her with a weak stench. Pinching her nose, Siena looked at the twin stumps of hollowed wood. In the hallow shell, a mass of green gelatinous matter had taken up residence. Siena leaned close curiously. Was that-?

Her reaction was instantaneous, her arm plunging into the blob without hesitation. She ripped it back out, clutching a bottle victoriously in her hand; a hand which was now elbow-deep in aqua blue slime.

Siena ignored this fact as she looked at the bottle, staring at the contents. Seeming unconvinced of the safety of the potion, she opened it and sniffed it. Satisfied, she became a Nord with his first mead in a week, not even stopping to breathe between gulps. Finished, the bottle fell to the ground as Siena slumped against the amber root and sighed.

The potion was weak, and took a little time to take affect, but when it worked to heal her wound she felt the difference quickly; the cool, soothing touch of magic upon her intensely tingling thigh. A minor healing, but it would be enough for now; until she could find another potion. The other trunk was sadly empty.

Before she got up, though, she looked at the spear-point dagger inquisitively. Then her grip shifted to the tip of the blade, and she chucked it at the wall. It stuck. Good? a better throwing knife than the iron dagger, though somewhat off balance. If I can get one critical shot though, I can make it. She reasoned with herself, going over to the dagger and yanking it out, before turning towards the tunnel entrance soberly.

Of the two, the first one didn't even get to know what it was that buried itself at the base of his skull, but his comrade knew quite well when he slumped to the ground. The slimy humanoid hissed anger as it turned towards the killer, seeing the shimmer of steel chain links and a glint of red eyes in the torchlight. The being sloshed forward on its webbed feet, charging at Siena.

Unlike her first encounter with the thing, Siena was more accustomed to it, and better prepared for the battle as a result. This preparation was evident in the simple fact that the beast's charge was cut short by a small advance by the Dunmer, followed by a vicious stab to the face when it was open to attack. Apparently, they weren't quite intelligent enough to understand blocking with those daggers of theirs. Siena plundered the bodies, taking the daggers and spare gold. To her delight, one of them was also sporting a lockpick. That fit nicely into the boot with the other, but the four daggers wouldn't fit in a boot quite so nicely.

A little disturbed by the idea of it, she decided on taking the thick black leather belt off one of the corpses, and holding onto the daggers with it. Once armed comfortably, she looked at the last two tunnels. One went down ?the one with the torches- but other went up. Reason dictated that in a cavern up was good if one desired escape, so she took that path.

The uphill slope proved unforgiving to her thigh, which wasn't happy with her behavior of late either. But she made it, and around the bend found herself looking at another small 'camp' The fire cast an eerie, unnerving light on the slick, fat bodies, but it also revealed another form beyond them. Taller, thinner, and three-legged. She could barely make out the silhouette, but shuddered nonetheless. That living tree?

There had to be another way. Siena had been sticking close to the wall, and now in frustration leaned against the bubbly wet-

What the-?! Siena realized it too late, however, and fell through the sea green membranous screen onto hard stone. Frighteningly turning around, she watched the membrane close itself back up, removing all trace of her ever passing through the 'door'. Now the cavern was beginning to unnerve her. Slowly, she rotated and headed down the new tunnel.

This one opened up into a vast underground chamber decorated with massive roots that ran along the walls, diagonally like ramps from the upper to the lower level, and even across the gaps between plateaus above. Most of the roots sported protrusions that were sharp pointed and large; either root branches, or really large thorns. More of the fluorescent flora abounded the cavern, but Siena turned her intention instead to the poorly made stake barricade made at the tunnel entrance. And the animal skin roofs she could see on the above plateaus. The torches, and three large crimson statues, did little to dissipate the idea that she'd just stumbled upon a full scale encampment.

Inhaling through her nostrils, Siena clenched her fists, and hoped her leg would hold up to the coming battles. Getting out of here was not going to be easy.

Author's Note: When I started playing Siena in the Shivering Isles, she actually didn't have quite the persona she has now, nor was she as fleshed out. I had originally gone into Blackroot Lair simply because I wanted to, but that isn't a suitable reason for Siena considering the person she has grown to be.

So I took advantage of having been victim to the Skinned Hound Invisible Charge in the game, and created this chapter and situation. It's been a challenge so far just to do this one section backwards from how one plays it in the game, but fun nonetheless. The pace of the next chapter will increase, though, as I hope for her to leave the Blackroot Lair by the end of that chapter. But I couldn't pass up the experience of Grummite 'culture' and a chance to display Siena's nasty side. As well as write about Madness Ore and Amber.

Whoa, that was an interesting chapter. Well done!

A new reader! Yeah! Or.. maybe an old one returning...

Either way, YAY! I'm glad you like it.

I hope to have the next one out before Christmas

Perfect, I just finished reading all of this. I was read most of it before, but that was back in spetembre, so It was good to re-read and than read the rest. I love this story so far, But i always imagine Siena always reminds me of the display pic BS has, don't ask me why, it just does. But anyway really good story. I like it, keep up te good work.

Maybe because, like BSparrow's avatar, Siena is a pretty Dark Elf? Wrong hair color, and Siena wears glasses, but still, I understand well enough.

I hope this chapter does not disappoint. I had to pick up the pace a little in some parts, skipping through a lot of the cavern for the sake of a moderate chapter length and less risk of repetitive boredom.

Enjoy!

Chapter 16: Frog-legs and Gnarl Jerky
A quick survey of the immediate area told her one thing; she'd have to be careful with her next move. While standing in the shadows of the tunnel, she could see ahead of her the three crimson wooden statues, totem poles rising from the ground. They were faces; froglike faces stacked one atop the other, with large lower lips and jutting teeth. Paired on opposite sides of the pole as if standing back to back, they alternated between facing north-south and east-west as they stacked. They looked almost like the faces of the beasts she now monitored.

One of them walked amongst the totems, and in the flickering torchlight she could see the curved, thin shape of a bow. It was so familiar to her, the shape of the bow limbs as they curved to the ties of the bowstring, that she knew it better than the back of her hand. An archer was there, yards from her. And all she had was sub par throwing knives.

To complicate matters, there was a small gathering of the camp shacks to her immediate right, with one of the beasts meandering around. She could hear the footsteps, see the shadow. A dark spear tip; it wielded one of those daggers. With such close proximity, but a wall between her and the opposition, taking out the beast without attracting that archer would prove a problem.

Siena leaned her head back, crown resting on the smooth rock wall of the tunnel, and inhaled with eyes closed. Three, two, one.

The spinning rush from the tunnel was quick, and in mid turn Siena nearly crumpled to the ground from the pain in her right thigh, the leg she had placed her weight on involuntarily. Sadly, this wobble sent the thrown knife higher than she'd hoped, and it sailed over the thing's head and ripped the animal skin shack roof. The Dark Elf stumbled onto her good leg, straightening her right leg and using it more for balance than support as she gripped another of the spear-like crude weapons in her left hand.

As she anticipated the thing charged towards her, and she prepared for the coming attack, leg muscles tightening. It brought its dagger arm across, intent to make a deadly slash to her right flank. But Siena was faster and her left arm came up, burying her weapon to the handle in the creature's armpit, as the crude dagger lacked a hilt. She could feel cool blood coat her fist as an artery severed, and the thing's weapon clanged on the stone cavern floor.

It was not the only sound to reach Siena's ears, as a bowstring twang followed a moment later. She didn't even try to dodge, instead collapsing to the ground. A dull, wet impact and a fatty thud later, and she was rolling over a toad-like corpse to gain coverage, thanking any god that would listen for the fatness of the creature. Thanking in between the pulses of pain from her leg, of course.

The arrows stopped; the beast was intelligent enough to know she wasn't coming out of her miniscule cover. Until the pain stopped being so mind-gripping, at which point Siena rose from her left leg and looked the monster square in the eye. The bow drew back, the arrow pointed at her, and she continued to glare through shaded glasses, red eyes narrowed.

The arrow shot off, and Siena twisted her shoulders ninety degrees, taking one step to her side. The arrow passed harmlessly, to be replaced by a triangular chunk of crude iron that spun threw the air in the opposite direction. The beast had two disadvantages in this situation; it was slower on land than Siena, and it was larger. Both made it hard to dodge the knife, but true doom lay in the fact that Siena aimed for the biggest section of flesh, the mid torso.

Stunned by the dagger to the gut, the hideous beast reeled back, trying to remain steady. All attempts failed when a second projectile marked territory in the toad-man's skull, and he crumbled to the ground in a bloodied heap. Siena stood there in her victory, breathing deeply yet glad she was still breathing, and grabbed the dagger her first opponent had dropped, before moving to retrieve her weapons from the archer. Grimacing in disgust each time she withdrew one of the daggers from its flesh, she wiped the blades on the slimy skin before removing a quiver of a dozen arrows from it.

Inspecting those arrows made Siena's heart drop. They looked to be made out of bone, or some a sort of hard wood, but of such poor quality craftsmanship it was a wonder they could fly straight. The bow wasn't much better off, suffering from moisture damage and neglect. It was likely ready to break in the next week at best. Still, she would be more productive with the bow than she would be throwing spear heads left and right. Sighing at her unfortunate fortune in acquiring the bow, she slung the quiver over her shoulder and adjusted her grip, looking to the slanted giant root ramp to the plateau above. She didn't have much choice but to climb, so drew one of the primitive daggers and began her ascent.

The crouching was bad enough, but crouching on an incline forced her to grit her teeth in pain with each step. Siena was already feeling numb gums by the time she reached the top. And then she slipped.

Maybe it was the change from root to rock, or maybe one of the stones was loose, but she slipped and collapsed, barely able to thud onto the plateau and prevent herself from sliding back down the root she'd worked so hard to climb up. Of course, the noise became her undoing.

The croaking growl made Siena look up startled, only to roll and avoid the stab from above the beast executed. She slammed into the side of a spiked log barricade, but facing the opposition, so pushed off the barricade and slammed herself into the creature as it recovered.

It hit the ground with a slick thud and groan, but was silenced as Siena raised her dagger and jammed it into the jugular. Blood streamed out, and she turned her head, rolling off to avoid the spray. It flailed with futility before falling still, while Siena lay beside it catching her breath. When she was able to get up, she rolled over to it, and removed her dagger, before reaching out to take-

What in the world? Siena carefully and curiously peeled the thing's fingers from the object, and brought it closer to see it better. A cone the length of a dagger or shortsword, but the material was quite foreign to her. It looked as black as the ebony in Morrowind, but this was not the same. While nearly as heavy and likely almost as strong, it felt, and looked, different. It was rough, not smooth, and veins of softly glowing gold ran along its surface.

But if it was comparable to ebony, it had to be valuable. She thought nothing more of it and pocketed the mineral, before getting up and looking around. This encampment on the small plateau was more furnished than the previous ones, with a table, cooking pot, and even some sort of stone chest. She cracked this open and robbed it of anything valuable, before picking up one of the crude daggers sitting on the table. That made five of the spear-head daggers, and Belmyne's. She shouldn't need any more; she didn't have much more room for them with this belt anyways.

Her options, sadly, looked slim. There was a tunnel ahead, and what looked to be a branch ramp to her left. She'd rather not have to deal with those roots again if she could avoid it. So, the tunnel was her choice.

It turned out to be a stupendous option as well, as she ran into another of the gelatinous green blobs in a tree trunk at the bend of the hall. Sticking her hand in, she discovered, to her sheer delight, yet another healing potion. And to her luck, a magicka restoring potion as well. Not even blinking as to the origins of the potions, she downed both, and sat beside the trunk as they took effect.

When she continued on down the hall, however, she arrived outside of the root ramp she had been trying to avoid, and got a perfect view of the fight below. Wood creaked and creatures croaked as she watched one of the twisted tree-beings smack its beefy wood arms into the skull of a toad-man. Siena was torn; she didn't want to fight either of them. But she'd prefer to have to fight the toad instead of the tree. Those eight eyeballs reflected in her mind and sent a chill down her spine as she knocked an arrow and pulled the string back.

Just from the sound alone, she knew the bow was bad, but there was still some life left in it when she released, and the arrow whistled into the side of the tree head. The three legged behemoth of plant life wobbled to one side, and the frog-man took advantage of the opportunity, leaping onto the tree and hacking with its dagger like a madman.

When the tree beneath it fell still, the beast was given no opportunity to get off his kill, as an arrow to the temple spun him into the cavern wall, prematurely ending the champion's reign.

The trees and these beasts are not allies? The truth of this observation was compounded when she noticed one of the tree-beings was prisoner in the same sort of thin branch cage she'd been in. Siena briefly recalled seeing bark on one of the tables; it was possible they could be farming the trees, like cattle. Rather dangerous cattle, apparently. A cruel, sly smile crept over Siena's ashen face. Perfect.

All she had to do now was regulate the battles from the shadows, when possible. Descending slowly, she bypassed the prisoner tree-beast as none of her toad enemies were near. Instead, she moved off down a mossy tunnel, and reached a dead end.

Or so it appeared, but Siena was not one to forget past mistakes easily. She looked at the bubbly, slimy wall surface before her, contemplating. It looked remarkably familiar to the door she'd accidentally fallen through. Carefully, she placed her hand on the glistening surface.

Instantly the bubbly sea-blue substance came alive, retreating into the wall and leaving a gapping whole for her to pass through. Drawing an arrow from the quiver on her back, she knocked it to the string and stepped through.

She'd entered a large hall, not at all dissimilar to all the other ones she'd been through, and wearily advanced. She stopped though, when a low wall of root and fungal plants blocked her view partially, from two beasts on the other side. Through the gaps in the 'wall' made by the thin tentacles growing out of the bulbous green fungus, she could make out her enemies. It was only two of those frog-men, no tree-things.

Carefully, she pulled back the bowstring, aimed, and shot.

The arrow hissed through the gaps of the tentacles and hit one of the creatures in the shoulder, knocking it to the ground. Its comrade hissed and hobbled around the wall, prompting Siena to hastily knock and draw back an arrow, letting it loose. The arrow seemed to wobble in the air before sticking in the creature's eye, causing it to stumble and wither about in blood-blinded agony. As Siena watched it die, she frowned, and then looked down at the bow.

The arrow had not shot as steadily as she had expected. She'd have to be more careful to do slow and controlled shots with this bow, or it would break on her sooner. That presented a problem. It especially presented a problem because most of the locations she'd have to utilize to get clear shots were likely lit by torches.

But even with a damaged, near broken bow, Siena's superb archery succeeded in silencing her obstacles as she moved through the vast cavern complex. There was no real deviation in the look of the caverns or tunnels, each moss covered, rocky, and dominated by those thick roots. Her encounters were made easier by the fact that the beasts isolated themselves so frequently. In those times when they did group, it was usually meager pairs, and presented little difficulty. She occasionally stumbled upon one of the bleeding roots, covered with hard amber. These she chipped at, taking some of the valuable gem before carrying on.

Siena paused when she stepped into the third cavernous room since she began her escape. She was on the lower level, and there was a plateau just above her. This one was crowned by a dock-like platform fashioned from roughly cut planks. It seemed to be a more advanced style of the animal skin and pole shacks she had encountered in the beginning, and so far she'd seen them on more structurally unstable sections of the caverns. She wouldn't have stopped just from seeing this above her, though. She stopped because a sentry had been standing on this platform, and the entrance to her tunnel was conveniently lit by two torches, revealing her ashen form to the sentry above.

As expected, it charged down the ramp at her. She'd recently given up on using the bow on these beasts, as there were so many of them and the bow seemed less stable with each shot. So when it charged, she positioned herself sturdily on her newly healed leg, and drew one of the three crude daggers she still sported.

The creature took a swipe at her chest, but Siena had crouched just beneath it, so the tips of her unkempt hair felt the slice of the dull blade. As she reached the apex of her crouch she lunged forward, burying the dagger into the thing's chest. Like all of her recent kills before it, she pulled her blade out, and continued on after looting the body of gold and lockpicks, stuffing away both in her clothing.

This root ramp was easier to climb than the first one, as her legs had a few more doses of healing potions she'd found on her journey. When she reached the top she crouched just in front of the front steps of the platform, peaking over it to the three toad-men beyond, all congregating around a camp fire. In the far distance she could see another wooden cage, and a form moving within it.

She was healthier than she'd ever been in this cavern complex, sure, but she was not at her prime condition, and had yet to test her mettle against three of the monstrosities. So, she took the bow off her back, drew out an arrow, and slowly stepped onto the platform, moving to her right with soft, fur-padded steps to get a better angle. Her form glimmered in the soft torchlight from the moisture of the cavern, her own sweat, and the links of steel comprising her cuirass. The arrow knocked onto the string, she pulled it back, and leveled it.

It was all up to luck now, as she could barely see the primitive lock on the prison cage. Holding her breath, she fired, and the arrow went over the heads of the beasts before clanging into the cage. Anticipation gripped her heart as she watched them turn as one to look at the cage, and the form within rotated. All four looked confused, dazed, and Siena bit her lip, moving her right hand up slowly to grasp another arrow.

The form within seemed to know something the others did not, and reared back on two hind legs before slamming the one front leg into the thin reed gate. It cracked like twigs, blasting out forcefully and making the toad-men flinch. Siena froze in mid draw of her arrow, crimson eyes watching the scene with sadistic interest.

The three toad-like men ran frantically towards the tree as it charged from the cage on the unsteady tripod of branch legs. The first to reach the unnatural monstrosity was smacked aside by the thick branch-arm, bouncing fatly off the ground and over the ledge to the floor just below. The second one buried its dagger in the tree trunk, only to get shaken off into the wall, the dagger still in the tree bark.

The third managed best, however, as it literally frog-hopped to the left when one of the carved-clawed arms thrust out, then to the right when the other struck out. Then it jumped forward and slashed out, cutting into the bark before jumping back. In the recovery from the attack, however, the tree had lashed out, and the large carved wooden talon on the arm skewered the hopping creature. The slimy body slid off the bloodied claw as the tree rose victoriously, and moved to the wall-impacted creature, raising both arms to bring their thick masses down and club it.

An arrow dully impacted into the leafy spine of the tree beast, causing it to falter and stumble into the wall. Another arrow joined the first as it recovered from the shot, sending it crashing into the wall again. Stubbornly undefeated, the thing rose a final time, before a thick spear point slammed into the back of the skull, the neck giving a wooden crack in response. The arms went limp, and the entire being collapsed to the ground, motionless.

Feeling victorious, Siena proceeded, finding the tunnels beyond easy to maneuver and conquer compared to the large cavern rooms. She rose from the corpse of her most recent frog-man victim, pocketing both the gold it had once possessed, and yet another of those strange ebony cones. The torchlight danced between two wooden stake barricades, their spear tips pointing town the upward slopping hall. The direction of the spikes and the upward slope told her it likely led up, and hopefully out as well. So, she ascended.

Sure enough, she saw a ray of midday sun when the bubbly substance dilated to allow her through. It was evening when she last remembered being outside, so she had to have at least spent a night in these caverns, if not more. "It is best not to make Lord Sheogorath wait. His whims are fleeting, and should He decide you are no longer necessary, it would be to your detriment." Haskill's words echoed emotionlessly in her head, as if reprimanding her for her tardiness.

Well, it's not my damn fault I was abducted by fish-faces. She grumbled to herself as she began to walk up and out of the root tunnel into the open air.

Only to stop dead, as just over the edge of the sloped tunnel exit she could see two of the beasts standing guard, their backs turned to her. Her legs bended instinctively, and she treaded forward, a silent breeze of approaching death. An arrow drew from the quiver, knocked into the bowstring, and Siena slowly pulled it back.

The string creaked as it was pulled, and she held it, steadying her breath and her bow before letting go of the bowstring. The usual twang did not sound; a loud crack replaced it, chilling Siena to the core.

These are all great pieces of writing. I really enjoyed the beginning few the most. The amount of detail you put in is astonishing. Is this your first playthrough of the Isles?


In this case their should be they're. I recall seeing another with they're.

Regardless of a few grammatical errors, nice job!

EDIT: Nevermind. I'll just send you a PM.

Argh, I have this problem too! It's got to the point where I simply can't bring myself to do quests I'm interested in, because it's not in my character's personality to seek them out Kind of shot myself in the foot there. 'When roleplaying goes bad'!

I really enjoyed these two chapters. Again, your realism is such a breath of fresh air and one of the main things that attracts me to this story. Siena reminds me a lot of Sabriel, from the book of the same name. I'm not sure if you've read it, but both Sabriel and Siena are female protagonists with a strong, capable and yet still vulnerable side to them. But even if they have their weaknesses, they are certainly not there to be rescued. It's so refreshing to find a female character written with such tact and respect. One unfortunate thing about the fantasy genre is that it tends to be filled with sixism and objectification. It makes my bitter feminist soul happy to see such a well-treated, well-rounded female OC as Siena ^_^ So keep it up!

To admit, though... I do have an infatuation with my little creation. She makes a stunningly beautiful in-game character. Especially in the Shivering Isles dresses. I'm glad you like my anti-sixified character.

Thanks, by the way, Con-Tur-eh... I actually took that line straight from the game itself, so that's an error Bethesda had made, that I subsequently failed to note. >.<