Author's Note: I'll admit, I was inspired to do this by BSparrow's fanfiction of the Oblivion Crisis. I am, however, making no claims to be like her in the method of story. I'll be following only one character throughout. But I will try to expand upon the game plot, and even better yet, I am still playing the plot, so am writing it as I play it. How's that for awesomeness? I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1: Mysterious Isle
The ship cut through the water like a knife, leaving rippling waves behind it as the wind blessed the sails. Siena Hlaalu sighed, leaning on the railing of the Imperial Merchant vessel. Her windswept dark blue ?almost black actually- hair rustled in the sea breeze, but she moved it away from her face when it got in the way.

She had been assigned to this ship by her councilor, because the East Empire Company had been worried about their ships being attacked during the long naval voyage from Morrowind, around Black Marsh, and into Leyawiin. Of course, nothing had happened the entire voyage, which only served to further bore the young Hlaalu mercenary. She plucked at the chainmail cuirass that covered her chest, adjusting the tiny links to prevent them from pinching her skin. Of course, trying to adjust such tiny things was difficult with leather gloves, which she always found clumsy.

But an archer needed gloves to protect their arms from the backlash of the bowstring, so she tolerated it. Just as she tolerated the thick leather boots on her feet and the quiver of plain chitin arrows on her back, along with the iron bow. The only thing she wanted to wear was the laced leather pants, which hugged her thighs and hips tightly and in her opinion made her look more attractive.

But the rest was quite necessary if one wished to live in battle, so Siena put up with it.

"Must you always be so antisocial on the job?" Came a male voice behind her, and Siena turned around to see Belmyne Dreleth standing on the deck, arms folded over his ashlander robes. Unlike Siena, his hair seemed to resist the breeze; likely because of all that hair gel stuff he put in it that he had bought in Balmora. Siena did not even want to fathom what stuff was in that gel.

"I'm just bored, that's all." Siena remarked, leaning her rump on the rail as she rested her hands on it. "Am I not allowed to be?"

"No, you are not." Belmyne replied, striding forward and raising one hand to her face. "And you are not allowed to wear this thing in my presence." He proclaimed, plucking shaded rectangular spectacles from her face. He held them in front of his face as if examining them, and Siena reached out and quickly snatched them back.

"And why not?" She inquired to the blurring form in front of her, slipping the shaded lenses back on her small nose. Her ruby eyes seemed a darker red beneath those shades. Belmyne brought one finger to the bottom of the lenses and lifted them onto her forehead as he moved his face closer to hers.

"Because I prefer to see your eyes without the darker shade." He whispered before kissing her gently. Siena initially returned the gesture, but within a minute had one hand on Belmyne's chest and pushed him back.

"Not on the job, Bel." Siena scolded, but her sly smile betrayed her serious expression. "We can't afford distraction."

Belmyne sighed. "Very well. Perhaps you will join us and the crew for some dinner, though?" He sounded pleading, and it made Siena pity the mer.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt. It isn't formal, so it's fine that I lack a dress." She shrugged, turning to look into the waters of the Niben again. Belmyne snorted.

"I don't think I have ever seen you in a dress."
***
"But seriously, why would the Argonians have even thought of trying to attack this ship? You're a purposeless trade vessel of the Empire." Felas Sarandas remarked, bringing his flagon of Sajumma to his lips again.

"Exactly." Sheldon -one of the Redguard crew members- replied, pointing his finger across the table to Felas. "We are of the Empire, and the Argonians have never been pleased with Imperial expansion."

"Neither have the Dunmer." Felas snapped back. The dark-skinned agent and sailor had been at it for almost a half hour now.

"Or the Bosmer, for a matter of fact." Dredhwen interrupted, brushing back her dark blond hair as the two men looked at her. "But Valenwood is more peaceful about its displeasure."

"How would you know? You're a born and raised member of Hlaalu." Siena stated as she arrived at the dinning table below decks, still in her armor and armed. The other Hlaalu mercenaries had also remained in their armor and kept their weapons; except Belmyne, who rarely wore armor anyways. The shaded glasses remained on her face, clouding her eyes in gray lenses in the poor candlelight. It served to further darken her eyes, as well as give everyone's apparel that dark, dirty visage.

Dredhwen looked up and smiled to Siena. "That doesn't mean I don't try to keep up to date on matters of my own race."

"Glad to see you finally decided to join us." Belmyne remarked over his own mug of sajumma, resting his elbows on the table.

Siena sent him a small smile, tilting her head to one side. "I can't very well let you have ALL the fun, now can I?"

"Adda girl? Nanette, we have any more food left?" Belmyne asked, looking up to the Breton woman in blue robes who was standing by the cupboards. She turned to look at him, frowned, and began to rummage through the cupboards.

"Since when was I the servant around her?" She inquired, an undertone of anger in her voice.

"Since you were the only non-Hlaalu hired to this floating tree-stump." Felas answered, sneering. "How far are you in the Mage's Guild anyways?"

"Merely a conjurer rank, but I assure you I am not pathetic."

She received various 'oohs' and laughs for her blatant threat towards Felas as she rummaged through the cupboards. As the men continued with their merriment, Siena rose from her seat and approached the mage.

"Don't worry about it; I can find my own food."

"I'm quite sure you-" Nanette began to snap, but stopped when she turned to look at Siena, and actually registered her words. An apologetic smile crossed her face. "Sorry? I'm just so used to Dunmer being-"

"Arrogant, rude, six-driven egotists." Siena finished for her, making Nanette lose track of her thoughts and simply nod her head. "Yeah, I get that a lot. But we aren't all like that." She stated with a simple conversational tone, rather than a defensive one. Moving around Nannette, she began to rummage through the cupboard to find something edible.

"Well that's good to hear." Nanette managed to reply, before the ship lurched and she stumbled forward, landing atop Siena on the floor. Bottles and mugs crashed to the ground along with their possixrs, who quickly picked themselves up. Sheldon looked around, motioning with one hand for everyone to be quiet.

"The ship stopped." He finally announced, much to everyone's confusion.

"All hands below deck! Man the oars! We have to keep moving!" The captain barked from above them, and Sheldon rushed out to answer the orders, followed by the few other sailors in the room. The Hlaalu mercenaries exchanged worried glances before also heading onto the deck.

When they were on deck they met thick fog. What had once been dusk had become night; what had once been clear became so murky that with or without her glasses, Siena could not see past the length of her arm. The sails were lax, no wind billowing into them, and the lapping of waves upon the side of the ship had ceased. As if the entire Niben had become still.

That all changed when the ship jerked upwards, going skyward. The crashing of disturbed water rang out in the stillness of the night as the entire ship was thrown onto their backsides from the sudden motion.

"What in the name of Talos-" Captain Jayred's voice punctured the gloom, only to be cut off by one of his crew.

"Sir, it's land!"

"What?!" Captain Jayred snapped, and rushed over towards the direction of the voice to investigate. That one motion seemed to set the entire ship off balance, as it tilted to the right and began to fall.

But apparently the joy-ride was far from over, as the ship was launched skyward again, this time accompanied by the splintering of wood. Siena soared through the air towards the still waters, flailing her arms in futile desperation. The ship overturned in the sky and crashed into the water, crushing some of the sailors instantly between sea and wood.

The water was like ice when she hit the surface, and the cold pierced into her lungs. She thrashed, trying to reach the surface, and when she did all she could hear was the screams of men as the ship sank. The sailors began to swim for the dark island that had appeared from nowhere, following a beacon of sky-blue light at the crest of the land.

Siena tried to tread water, but found those 'necessary' items to be weighing her down tremendously. As she began to sink she fumbled with the bow and arrows, finally removing them and trying to kick for the surface again.

The next time she broke the surface she heard a very different voice mix with that of distressed sailors. It was unlike any voice she had ever heard, somewhat high-pitched and sporting the most unusual accent.

"Well, that was certainly marrrvelous timing!"

If the voice had continued, she couldn't tell, since her armor began to drag her under yet again.

Very good, FC4, it's good to see some writing from you again. (aside from Crossfire, take your time on that...) I like main character, you seem to have a knack for female protagonists, and I mean that in a good way. Some would say that the long description of her equipment and how she liked it/disliked is unneccesary, but I beg to differ. I think it adds flare to the story, and emotion to the character.

And who is this voice Siena hears at the end? Could it perhaps be Sheogorath himself? I'm also curious to what island they are on. Good stuff so far, FC4...of course...it's not like I expected less from you.

Well, this is exciting. Glad to have sparked something.

I'm interested to see how you will handle SI... not just with Siena, but with the other newly-arrived citizens of Passwall as well. I've always been fascinated by psychology, so I think reading about the madness inflicted by the Shivering Isles will be very interesting... albeit in a morbid sort of way.

I'll definitely be following this story.

I liked the Captain Jayred bit. I look forward to seeing how this goes along...

I may be doing a lot of the chapters fairly quickly, as I have played some of the main quest already and kinda want to play and write along, ya know.

You had a vicious threesome in the opening lines: Heavy literary elements, the sigh, and windswept hair. Painfully clich?, as far as fantasy stories go.

Other than that, it's looking good. Good differentiation between the character voices in the first part. Siena talks in a usual, lax tone, while Belmyne (that's a male voice? ) is more formal. Good balance of dialogue and action in the second part kept it interesting. You threw a little Sheogorath in at the end, right before you left us with a cliffhanger. That makes for a good ending.

Please continue . I can't wait to read your spin on Sheogorath's dialogue. Any story involving that can't help but be entertaining, and with a good writer at the helm it'll be even better.

I'll do my best.

The only part of the opening that was ACCIDENTALLY cliche was the windswept hair. I am currently playing this character in SI as well, and I felt it was the best hairstyle for her. The others didn't really look right. I will admit to the clicheness of the rest of the opening, however. What can I say? I works, so I ain't going to try to fix it. Now I reread it though... you are right... it is a bit of a painful paragraph >.<

I'll try to avoid THAT in the future.

Chapter 2: Voice of Madness
Light pierced her eyelids in a glow of light blue, and she tightened them shut to try and block out the light. It helped none, and she groaned before managing to open her eyes. The world was not blurry, but? spotted. Spotted with globes that distorted her vision. Siena blinked, realizing it was water on her glasses just as she registered the sound of water lapping at shoreline.

But she didn't feel soft sand around her. Only hard rock; smooth, hard rock. Confused, Siena picked herself up onto her elbows, and looked around. She was waist-deep in water, lying on an inclined slab of stone. Crawling forward she dragged herself fully onto dry land, and then turned over to sit down.

Her feet were bare upon the smooth, mossy stone. She'd lost her shoes while fighting to stay surfaced. She'd lost her gloves as well, and every weapon she had owned. All that remained was soaking wet leather pants, a chainmail curiass, and her shades. She shook her head, shaking the large droplets of water off her lenses and out of her hair, before setting her chin on her knees.

What happened? We were just suddenly? tossed in the air like dolls. That sailor had said land? but that makes no sense. Siena groaned. I'm on a strange island and I have lost everything? Even Belmyne is gone. Absently she stared at the water of the Niben, but she could see nothing farther than a half mile. The fog was thinner now; thin enough to allow for sunlight to pierce, but the horizon was still shrouded. As she watched the water, a piece of driftwood floated past.

Wait? that's a body! Siena stood quickly, leaning over the edge of the stone slope to get a closer look. It was indeed a body floating facedown in the water. She could make out five appendages. The fifth looked like an Argonian tail. But Argonians don't drown? do they?

The clash of steel that interrupted her thoughts made Siena nearly jump back into the water as she turned to look towards the top of the cliff that the slope hugged. From that cliff a body fell into the water, splashing before bobbing up to the surface. Siena observed from her position, horrified.

It was one of the sailors from the merchant ship, his chest slashed open and oozing blood into the river waters. She recognized the face of the Nord, but the clothes were? different. They were a dark gray-brown and looked like they had been patched up and sewn together many times. And the shoulders were flared up in a fashion that made a mockery of noble dress.

If there had been any doubt that Siena was confused before, that was all erased now. The confusion on her face was as noticeable as the corpse bobbing in the water not far off. She slowly began to back away, creeping backwards up the slope, until her hand felt the top of the cliff.

Quickly she looked to her left to see the plateau that made up most of the island, and froze. There was simply no other reaction she could muster but paralysis. Trees with a multitude of thin trunks protruded from the rocky surface to burst into leaves of both fall and spring colors. Mushrooms of a coloration and texture she had never encountered blossomed at the base of the boulders of the island in myriad clusters. But what truly caught her attention was the stone statue at the center of the plateau.

It was? well, the oddest work of art she had ever seen. Three faces, one to each of the three sides that she could see. Maybe there was even a face on the back. She could only see half of the left and right faces, but one had a big, toothy grin, while the other was a smug, calm smile. The center was the strangest of all, for it was angry, and the mouth was opened to become a doorway from which sky-blue light radiated. All of the faces were of the same bearded man with a big nose, shallow cheeks, and wrinkled forehead.

And in front of this doorway, statue? thing were two figures; one a guardsman, the other a Khajiit. The guard had his sword sheathed, but the blood on the ground told her more than enough of the story. Siena cringed. But what choice did she have on this island?

Finally mustering the courage to approach, Siena followed the stone pathway that ran a ring around the front of the plateau. To her surprise the guard did not attack her on sight, but approached and even greeted her.

"Morning ma'am. I'd advise you stay back. It isn't safe here." The guard told her, cutting right to the chase.

"Well, can I at least stay with you?" Siena asked, looking at the statue and frowning.

"Well, sure." The guard shrugged. "But I'd stay back from that door if I were you. Nothing that's gone in has come out right." He remarked, nodding his head towards the glowing gate. Siena looked back at him.

"What happened? Someone's gone in there?" She almost squeaked it out, fearing the worst.

"Yeah. There was a shipwreck reported around here yesterday and we were sent to investigate. We'd found this place. A few of the sailors we found here or floating in the water. They kept saying that the others had gone into that there gate."

Yesterday? So she'd been out for almost twenty-four hours, and others had gone inside the gate. Belmyne might have gone in there!

"Please sir, tell me!" Siena nearly jumped at the guard, grabbing his shoulders and pleading with him. "What happened to them? Have any of them come out yet?"

The guard shrugged her off, stepping back and snapping at her while pointing at the Khajiit. "Look for yourself! Their brains are addled! Got no sense! For all I know, perfectly normal people went in there. This is what came out." Siena stared at the Khajiit, trying to remember who she was. She had to be one of the sailors or maybe one of the Trade company employees.

"You can't see me. You can't see me. Neither can He. No one can see me." The Khajiit began muttering incessantly when she was mentioned. Siena slowly walked up to her, reaching out a hand in an attempt to comfort her.

"What happened in there?" She asked softly, as if addressing a child. The Khajiit reared back, moving away from Siena and blocking her with one outstretched hand.
"No. Go away. I'm not here." She barked, and Siena took a step back, raising one eyebrow.

"What do you mean you're not here? You're right there."

"You can't see me. You can't see me. Neither can He. No one can see me. I'm not here." The Khajiit continued to mutter, cowering away from Siena. She was about to continue but thought better of it, sighed in exasperation, and turned back to the guard. She put one palm to her forehead, hoping to rub all of this away as a bad dream or a migraine induced hallucination. But she already knew it was a futile effort.

The others went in there? Dredhwin, Belmyne, Felas? Why wouldn't they? It'd be like scouting out the area ahead. But if they ended up like her?

I have to find out what's going on! I have to find them! Maybe I can help them! She looked up again at the guard, looking more determined than before. But one could tell her closed fists were shaking with anxiety.

"I'm going in."

"Ha!" The guard laughed, pointing at her. "It's your funeral. I'm just here to warn people, not keep them out." He held his hands out at his sides, shrugging. "I'll just stay here to clean up the mess when you come out. Go ahead in."

Siena glared at the guard, then at the gate. The man's manners were certainly lacking, even by an adventurer's standards. "I feel as comforted by that knowledge as I did when I arrived." She remarked coolly at the man, only to get a smile and a tip of his helmet in return.

"Always a pleasure, ma'am."

Siena pouted at the man, looking back at the gate and choosing to ignore him if he said another word. She stepped up the small stairwell towards the glowing portal, only to have a Dunmeri figure materialize in front of her, and she quickly caught him as he fell towards the ground.

It was Belmyne! And yet? just like that Nord sailor he was wearing patchwork gray clothes, rather than his usual robes. The robes she had last seen him with. She cradled him in her lap, embracing the crouched man.

"Oh Belmyne! I was so worried. Something's terrible wrong with this-"

"I won't go back." The Dark Elf battlemage muttered at the ground. He began to shake his head wildly. "I won't go back!" He threw Siena off him as he screamed. She lay on the stone steps, mouth agape in horror and ruby eyes wide. "You can't make me go back!" Belmyne curled himself into the fetal position again, cradling his head in his hands and sobbing. He continued like this for a minute or more.

Siena closed her mouth, gulped, and crawled towards him. "Bel? Bel, it's alright. You don't have to-" She whispered, only to be cut off by the raving Dunmer.

"I'll kill you all!" He screeched, hand grasping at an iron dagger he got from Gods-knew-where and ripping it from his belt. Siena recoiled, her hand retracting like turtle into a shell. Belmyne turned towards her, and she got the first good look at his face.

The handsome dunmer she once knew was replaced by a warped, horrific visage of the Belmyne she had loved. His eyes were wild, almost drunken or drugged. His lips were curled back in an animalistic snarl as he spat with each word.

"Stay back! This one's violent!" The guard snapped at Siena, but she didn't need to be told twice as the perversion of Belmyne leaped at her.

"You're all going to die!" He spat, the iron dagger lashing out at Siena. A Bravil guardsman shield blocked it as the guard rushed in front of her, silver longsword bared and already stained with blood. The guard spun to his right, exposing his back only briefly to Belmyne.

The lunatic tried to take advantage of the opening, but by the time the dagger was dislodged from the shield it was too late. The silver blade severed skin and muscle at Belmyne's waist, sending blood onto the ground and Siena. The guard ripped the blade violently from the body, before sheathing it. Without hesitation he picked up the corpse and carried to the edge of the cliff.

"Belmyne!" Siena managed a broken, sobbing cry as she reached out for the body, just before the guard dropped it into the river. Her hand retreated back to her chest as she cuddled herself against the wall.

His blood? Belmyne's blood. It was all over her, sticky and warm. He'd been changed by whatever lay beyond that gate. She had lost him long before the guard had killed him. "Belmyne." She whispered softly, closing her eyes.

"Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy! Useless mortal meat. Walking bag of dung!" Someone exclaimed. It took a moment for Siena to register that voice; it sounded familiar. A somewhat high-pitched voice with an inexplicable accent, drawling at some words and screeching at others. She began to uncurl herself, looking slowly around. Her watery eyes locked with the guard's.

"Did you hear that?" She gave no response. "Did you?" Siena shook her head gently, still looking near tears. The guard rolled his eyes. "Voices from nowhere, madmen? Where does it end? How did I end up with this posting?" He moaned.

"A nice effort though." The voice remarked almost politely. Siena began to look around again, uncurling her legs from her chest. "Shame he's dead." There was an echoing sigh. In fact, the voice seemed to echo itself, just a millisecond after it spoke. "These things happen."

Siena knew what he was talking about, and narrowed her eyes. The voice was obviously male, and whoever spoke was rude and cold. Her lover had just died, and the voice just shrugs it off as nothing? She began to look around for the source of the voice, her eyes glancing over Belmyne's dagger. With a face of stone she reached for it, wrapping her hand around the hilt of the blade.

"Voices from nowhere again? I don't get paid enough." The guard remarked, and to Siena it was almost as equally cold and heartless as the voice's remark. But she had already vowed to herself to ignore him.

"Bbbbring me a Ccchampion! Rrrend the flesh of my foes! A mortal champion, to wade through the entrails,of my enemies!" As the voice roared out its demands, Siena looked up at the three faces. She couldn't help but think that was the origin of the voice. Her grip on the dagger tightened.

"Really, do come in." The voice spoke up again, changing from the previous rage to a calm, courteous tone. "It's lovely in the Isles right now. Perfect time for a visit." Uncontrollably, one of Siena's eyebrows rose questioningly. Something was definitely wrong about this voice, this gate, this place. She turned to look over her shoulder at the guard, who was standing there anxiously. Inhaling, she turned back to the gate.

Whoever you are? you killed Belmyne. You killed his mind! I am going to stop you from doing the same to the others, and make you pay! She thought, before stepping into the light. Even with shades on, the light was blinding, engulfing her. And then, it was gone, replaced by darkness. She could see only a faint dot of light, candlelight. Her shaded glasses made it harder to see in the dark room.

"Let's be civil, shall we?" A voice pierced the darkness, making her turn her head towards the candlelight. This voice was not the same as the other. This one sounded Bretonic, snobbish and noble. And bored.

"Please, sheathe your blade and have a seat." Something dark moved, motioning towards the candle. What could she do, except walk towards it?

Hee. Found an error to match that "color" you found for me earlier. Second paragraph: "waste" should be "waist."

Good job taking control of the storyline. I've always found SI's initial motivation rather lackluster (Vira has yet to go inside in my game, because she sees no reason to). You got rid of that problem by giving Siena a hefty stake. Awesome. :twirl:

It'll also add a potential twist to the story later on. How will it play out? Will she become distracted from her vengeance, or will everything play into her hands? Might her anger toward Sheo turn her on a different path? Mm, lots of possibilities.

I know not what you speak of.

But yes, I felt that Belmyne had immense potential when I had seen him ingame, as a reason for someone to enter that gate. It had just so happened my chosen character was a woman, so it played out even better that way.

I'll have to keep tabs on this. I shall not fall hopelessly behind like I did BSparrow's story (parents confiscated my computer between mid-may and early june). In fact, both yours and BSparrow's stories have inspired me to write my own Oblivion fanfic, based on a Renrijra Krin agent.

Another well-written chapter FC4. So you say you're writing this as you play the game? That's awesome...

Chapter 3: Stomach Full of Butterflies
Siena strode forward, removing her shaded spectacles as she came. Now she could see brighter, but not clearer. But the important thing was that she could see. She placed the arm of her glasses into the links of the chest of her cuirass, as her wet feet padded on smooth stone. She was still dripping wet. Once she approached the candle, she could see a little better.

It was a stone room, and sported only a stone table with two chairs. One was empty, the other occupied. Occupied by a bald Breton man wearing unusual clothing. It had a red collar-piece and black cloth, flared shoulders and skin tight waist. A medallion of a metal she was uncertain of hung around his neck. She couldn't see the color of his eyes ?she could barely see his face minus the nose- but they were squinted anyways. The man moved, placing his fingers together in front of him.

"Please do sit down, and we can carry on. Just set the dagger on the table." He said absently, and Siena absently responded, finally releasing her vice grip on the dagger and dropping it to the table. It landed beside a tome, the Madness of Pelagius. Somehow, Siena felt that tome belonged there. Hesitantly, she sat down. For a moment there was silence, and it was then she could hear ticking.

On her left was a pyramid with a stick attached at the bottom; a metronome. That wrinkled-forehead-and-bearded face was carved into the metronome stone. Unconsciously, she was watching the metronome with her ruby eyes.

"What can I do for you?" The Breton finally asked, sounding almost forced. "I imagine you are here about the door?"

Siena broke her gaze from the metronome with difficulty, and looked at the man for a moment. Then his question registered as her mind caught up with the world. "Um, yes? that strange door I went through." She looked back to see the light blue portal was actually still there, too.

"Yes. You have entered and now you are here. Amazing." The Breton remarked, his fingers still held together in front of him. He had one leg propped on the knee of the other. "Truly."

Siena snapped her head back to the man, narrowing her eyes at him. That had to have been the driest sarcasm she had ever heard in all her life; and she heard plenty of sarcasm. "Who the hell are you, anyways?" She snapped.

The Breton man seemed unaffected by her outburst, as he simply placed one hand on his chest. "I am Haskill, Chamberlain to the Lord Sheogorath."

"Sheogorath?" Siena repeated, gulping.

"Did I stutter?" Haskill inquired, but Siena ignored it. Sheogorath?. One of the Four Corners of the House of Troubles.

"So this is?" Siena asked, motioning at the room.

Haskill nodded curtly. "Yes, you are approaching the Shivering Isles. Through the door behind me lies the realm of Sheogorath, Prince of Madness, Lord of the Never-There."

"Never-There?" Siena repeated, eyes moving back to the bright portal behind her. "Why is that door there? The island just? appeared out of nowhere? why?"

Haskill sighed, as if the answer was obvious. "Because my Lord wills it to be so. It poses no threat to Mundus." Siena's eyes narrowed.

"It destroyed a trade ship." Her words were smoothly cold and curt.

"Ah yes, well, that was an untimely accident." Haskill explained, putting his hands on his crossed knees. "I assure you that otherwise, the Door is harmless; no compact has been violated. It is merely a doorway, an invitation. Perhaps you will accept it for what it is."

An invitation into a realm of one of the Four Corners? "Why am I being invited?"

Haskill didn't skip a beat with his answer; it seemed like the man had an answer for everything. "You? I do not know. My Lord seeks a mortal to act as His Champion."

"Why would He need a mortal for a champion?" Siena interjected, the question coming from her mouth the moment she thought of it. Why would a Daedric Prince need a mortal for anything other than a plaything?

"To attempt to fathom His intent is a foolish endeavor." Haskill replied smoothly. "His will is His own; His reality follows suit. You are here because you chose to enter; you were not summoned."

Siena let out a 'hmph' at this, taking his words with a grain of salt. Maybe she was just crazy, but the voice certainly sounded like it was summoning her, beckoning her in. Beckoning her to find her comrades. Siena nearly leaped forward out of the chair as she hurriedly asked her next question, making Haskill move his head back in retreat.

"The people who came in here! The people out there! What of them?" Siena cried out her question. Haskill was silent, until Siena sat back down.

"They entered this realm, and were ill prepared." He replied as if nothing had happened. "Their minds are now the property of my Lord." His remark was so calm, so unemotional.

"Minds are not property; they cannot be bought or sold." Siena hissed between her teeth. Her eyes flickered briefly to the blurry form of the dagger on the table. She felt a desire within her to bury it in this man's chest. Cut open his rib cage and see just how black that heart truly was. But she held back. He had information. Maybe he knew how to help them, so more of her comrades did not end up like Belmyne.

"But property is not exclusive to product." Haskill replied, his mannerism only furthering Siena's anger.

"How can I cure them?" Siena demanded, her voice rising in pitch. That dagger was looking all the more inviting.

"Cure?" Haskill returned, raising one eyebrow quizzically. "You speak as if they are diseased. They live now in another state of being." Haskill tilted his head to the left just so, furthering that aristocratic stuck-up visage. "Perhaps it is you who needs a cure."

Siena grit her teeth, and held the sides of the chair with white knuckles, staring at the ticking metronome as she tried to garner control. Her ruby eyes followed the stick as it swayed left and right, wondering what that strange letter-like thing on the top was. It looked like a Daedric symbol, but one she was not familiar with. Watching it had an odd affect on her, as each time that metronome seemed to take longer to swing from left to right, and right to left. And each time, she felt her anger wane.

"Perhaps indeed." Haskill remarked with an undertone of disgust as he watched the Dunmeri girl, snapping her back to reality. Embarrassed, she brushed back a strand of her soaked dark-blue hair that had fallen into her face unnoticed. For a moment her mind was blank of all thought, but then she finally came up with something.

"What happens now?" Her voice was softer, a sharp contrast to her anger a moment ago.

Haskill shrugged. "You do as you will. You may leave the way you entered." He motioned towards the portal with his hand. A casual, can't-be-bothered wave. "You're life will be none the worse for your time spent here. Or-" Haskill pointed to the stone door behind him. "-you may continue onward, through the door behind me." He put his hands in his lap. "If you can pass the Gates of Madness, perhaps the Lord Sheogorath will find a use for you."

Siena did not find this pleasuring in the slightest, the idea of becoming some puppet to this Lord of Madness. "And if I go through the door?"

"Who is to say? There are always choices to be made. The Realm of Madness is no different in that regard." Haskill told her. "Your choices are your own. Enter or not, but make your decision." Haskill's voice became irritated, the third emotion she had so far heard from him alongside sarcasm and disgust. "I've other duties to which I must attend. Speak with me again when you made up your mind."

"The anticipation is almost too much to bear." His voice dripped of immense sarcasm, and she could imagine he had rolled his eyes. Sometimes these bad eyes are a pain.

She looked at the dagger on the table as she thought about her decision. Something about that dagger; it felt like a focal point of her goals, the reason she was even making this choice in her mind. Indeed it was. She did not know its origin, but it had once been held by Belmyne, and now it would be held by her.

Things had gone terribly wrong, spiraled out of control. If she had remained above decks, if she hadn't gone down to the dinner, she could have seen it coming, could have warned the crew beforehand. If she hadn't blacked out for twenty-four hours, she could have held them back, resisted and prevented Belmyne and the others from ever entering this hellish Realm of the Outer Worlds. If only?

No, Father always told me to not dwell in the past, but to thrive in the present and decipher the future. I can't fix what happened before, but I have to find a way to recover what was lost. Belmyne may never come back? But I may still be able to save the others.

And give this God a piece of my mind, even if it kills me. Siena looked back up to Haskill, her mouth taunt with determination. Haskill gave her a glance of faked interest. "Well? Have you made up your mind? The tension is almost palpable."

She shrugged off his cynical remark with remarkable ease. "I'll do it."

"Fine." Haskill replied simply, sounding almost? displeased? Maybe her lack of reaction to his taunt had gotten under his skin. Siena's lip curled with delight. She'd managed to best him. "I'm sure my Lord will be most pleased, assuming you ever manage to see Him. You'll want to pass through the Gates of Madness." Haskill rose from his seat, turned stiffly, and walked towards the stone door.

Siena expected him to open it up, but instead he turned to look at her, almost as if he had forgotten something. "Oh, and mind the Gatekeeper. He dislikes strangers to the Realm. Enjoy your stay." That single courteous statement sounded so bland, so insincere, that it failed to serve its welcoming purpose completely. Turning back to the door, Haskill continued to walk, and went right through it.

Almost as if it were never there. Siena caught her breath in surprise, fright gripping her. What was this? He never said-

The walls began to squirm, rippling and moving as if alive, and Siena screamed. Throwing her hands over her head she closed her eyes, but rather than hear something, she heard nothing. Opening them again, she found a swarm of butterflies fluttering around her, their wings a shade of blue not unlike her own skin. She watched them in wonder, before they began to leave, flying off on their own or in groups into the distance.

Leaving nothing but Siena; a stone desk with a book, metronome, and dagger; Haskill's empty seat; the candlestick, and the rug everything stood upon, atop a slab of marble. The walls were gone. The darkness was gone. And a blurry world of washed-out colors greeted her eyes.

Nice description, and a great work of feeling into Siena's reaction to Haskill's bluntness. The only thing that irked me was that for being 'summoned' to another world in which she has never seen before, I found Siena's relative calmness a bit surprising. I expected her to be bit more...I don't know, I guess nervous and fearful. Anyhoo, it was a good chapter. I can't wait to hear your descriptions of the Isles...

Maybe it tells you just how much of her mind you have yet to unlock? Regardless, she technically wasn't even in the world to begin with. I'll keep this in mind, though, when she enters the Isles proper.

Touche without the tilde. You have a point...

I admit it: I'm a Haskill fangirl.

Ergo, I naturally loved the chapter.

Sometimes, I have trouble deciding whether or not to include certain parts of the canon questline. Should I gloss over the details of a well-known event, or describe it in-depth? Usually, the closer things are to the way it is in the game, the less likely I am to write about it. You even commented on it once: how I probably shouldn't have skipped Vira's sewer scene... but I maintain that, since it pretty much followed the game's version of events, it would have been boring as all Oblivion.

You've got that to contend with, and then some. There are people here who haven't played Shivering Isles before, so you can't just skip it and assume everyone knows what happens. This means that you've got to strike a balance between the readers who don't know what's going on, and the readers who have seen it over and over again.

Despite it all, you pull it off. You add descriptions and interpretations that, of course, the game doesn't provide. So, even though I've seen it multiple times, it still feels fresh. Nothing really surprising in it, but it was presented in a way that kept my interest.

Oh, and the "Almost as if it were never there" line is a very nice touch... and an interpretation I have never thought of. Is the room, perhaps, an illusion? If it is, then constructed by whom, Sheogorath, Haskill, or Sienna? That's the way I read it, anyway.

Dear BSparrow, you stroke my ego to no end.

The door part actually came about because I had to find a way to get the mechanics of the game to become more realistic. Haskill never actually opens that door, so you never got to see what might have truly lay behind it; the game mechanics dictate he simply disappears in front of the door. I had to work around that, since who's to say it the door opened that the Fringe would be on the other side? Maybe it would be more of that stone ruin? So I decided to go with the illusion aspect, which came also easily from the butterfly effect.

I also had to find a way to stick to the game dialog closely, even if what the game felt Siena should say didn't fit with what I thought she should say. And so... I used the metronome. It was an immensely fun chapter to write, and even more fun for me to read.

Chapter 4: On the Fringe of Madness
Hastily Siena fumbled at her chain-mailed chest, groping for the spectacles she had hung from the chain links and slipping them onto her face. The world took on a shaded hue, but it also took on a sharp clarity now. She was awestruck by what she saw.

The world was remarkably colorful and vibrant. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, dotted with odd sparkling cloud formations. She could swear she heard birds chirping in the distance as she looked around.

Some distance to her left was a tall stone wall with sloped roofs, running parallel to the horizon. Looking back, the portal was still shimmering with life behind her. Mocking her with the option of return. Something told her returning to Tamriel was not an option any longer, and she then remembered she was in a Daedric Realm, which startled her into rising from her seat.

This looked nothing like any Daedric Realm she could have imaged, especially for a God of the Mad. It actually reminded her more of home than anything else. Five large trees grew around her plateau, but unlike trees they had no leaves. Their branches were bare, and cradled the underside of a mushroom as they grew before curling over the edge of the fungus and defying gravity, shooting upwards. It was very different from the mushrooms of home, true, but they struck a cord with Siena nonetheless. The fungal like pods growing at the base of one of the trees did not, though. They were like large Kwama eggs glowing a soft blue, and Siena found herself sickened by them. She half expected a Kwama forger to squirm out and spit acid at her.

But she wasn't here to sightsee. Snatching up the dagger from the table, she stopped when she saw out of the corner of her eye that the metronome had stopped. Curious, she tapped the stick with the dagger's tip. It began again, but then stopped. Frowning, Siena ignored it and went around the table, walking down the hilly slope. To each side of her were pillars of granite, or maybe marble, overgrown with vines and crumbling. More mushroom trees dotted the land around her in large and small sizes, demanding her attention but getting none of it. The path turned to her right, and the pillars followed suit, as if guiding her down this strange road.

There was a giant mushroom tree further down the path, by far the largest tree she had ever seen. Its trunk wasn't even a single body, but multiple root-like trunks that bended upwards from the ground to meet as one, and then rise into the air before blossoming into a mushroom umbrella. Siena gazed at it as she walked down the path, marveling at the sheer size.

But she stopped abruptly when she heard an unfamiliar sound. It was like a growling cat, but with a watery quality to it; like the cat in question was drowning or something. Crouching low, she carefully placed one bare foot in front of the other, flipping her dagger in her hand to hold it in reverse. Approaching a fallen section of pillar and peaking over, she narrowed her eyes through her shades.

It was a goblin. No, wait? What is that thing?! It looked similar to a goblin, and yet was definitely not one. The creature's torso was too thick and flabby to be a goblin, and it stood on legs that were double-jointed like the beastfolk of home. And it had two rows of three spines growing progressively longer as they went up the back. The only real relation was the sickly green color of its skin, which was darker on the creature's back than the chest. She couldn't see the thing's face in detail from here, but she imagined it was hideous. Rough metal gleamed in its hand, and a body lay in the pool of water where the goblin-thing stood.

Dang it? If only I had my bow! I'll have to find a way around. Siena wasn't fond of close combat. She preferred archery, despite the protests of her teachers concerning her imperfect vision. It allowed her to fight her enemies from afar, get to know them better before she had to get up close and personal. anolyzing her options she saw an opening between a Mushroom trunk-root and a boulder. She could go through there, around the boulder ahead, and to the other side back onto the path. Should be simple, right?

Looking back over the pillar, the thing had its back to her. Taking her chance she dashed across the road, feet padding softly and chainmail clinking. It was likely the clinking that did her in, as a growl reminding her once more of a cat underwater rose behind her. Siena couldn't even bring herself to turn around and look. She just knew it was after her.

There was a gray vine growing around the tree trunk, and she grabbed it, jumping up and hanging onto that handhold. Knowing it wasn't going to get her onto the tree she had jumped sideways, her legs swinging towards the nearby boulder. Kicking off that and sending her upside down she flipped onto the tree trunk, stabbing the dagger into the wood to anchor herself in place.

Only then did she look back towards the beast, to see it at the base of the tree, growling at her. The thing had nightmarishly pale eyes that lacked any sort of pupil she could recognize. Rows of thin, sharp teeth with no lips to cover them snapped at Siena from that smooth face with only two hog-like nostrils for a nose.

Her mind uncontrollably envisioned a fat goblin body with a slaughterfish mouth and Orc's face, and it was the best comparison she could ever hope to create. The fish-man shook a rough iron dagger ?which looked more like a toothed spear tip with a leather handle than any sort of smith-fashioned blade, and was etched with odd symbols on the sides- up at her, muttering in that strange noise it made. It took immense effort to draw her eyes away from the monster and to the surroundings, looking for escape.

The large boulder! I can't go around it now, but maybe I can go over it and find a path. She prayed to Azura that her hopes would be true. She would have prayed to Vivec, or maybe Almalexia; but in the waxing years of the Third Era their religious prominence had died in Morrowind, replaced by the worship of the Ancestor Daedra. The Good ones.

And if Sheogorath had spawned this hideousness, she had one more reason to agree with the Temple placing him in the House of Troubles. Because he was giving her a crap load of trouble to deal with now. Ripping the iron dagger from the tree, she braced herself as she slid down towards the eagerly awaiting beast.

It wouldn't get its meal just yet, though, as she leaned forward and kicked off the tree, rolling atop the boulder to a chorus of unintelligible beast-curses. Smirking, she proceeded to run across the stone.

Only to have something bang into her leg, knocking her off balance. Crashing into the pool of clear water, she tightened her grip on the dagger and fumbled to get onto her hands and knees.

Yet again, her glasses were wet. There are times where I wished I didn't need these. The creature was blotchy and bulbous in her vision, but as a badly aimed stone splashed into the water close to her head, the answer to what knocked her off the boulder came; a primitive beast's lucky shot.

Snarling, the green-hide charged at her, growing larger in her water-distorted field of view. She reflexively thrust out her left arm, grabbing the oncoming arm holding the spear-point dagger. The strength of the beast forced her down from her awkward kneeling posture and her head went under water as it overshadowed her.

Panicking, she stabbed at the thing's side, feeling her dagger slip between ribs and enter flesh. The monster weakened and she rolled atop it quickly, gasping for air as she submerged it in the pool and held it down with her weight. She still gripped the arm holding the dagger, keeping it away from her. The beast stilled.

That's when she noticed the wound in its side had stopped bleeding, the cloud of blood in the water having dissipated. The fish-man gurgled under the water, its large nostrils flaring. The thing was breathing!

Crying out in a mixture of frustration, fear, and instinctive panic Siena began to stab wildly at the wrestling monster, even forcing it to stab itself with her iron grip on its arm. She was no longer caring where she stabbed, or how bad the wound became, she was just stabbing and slashing and stabbing. Finally the beast fell still once more, and Siena quit her efforts, panting.

Its own dagger jutted from the hideous skull, the three fingers still wrapped around the hilt. Hers was dripping blood into the pond as she held it pulled back, ready to stab again. The bleeding didn't stop, the creature didn't move, and after a few minutes of holding this position, Siena rose from the corpse, shaking the blood off her dagger in the water first. She didn't even look at the other body, but did note it had the underbelly of a slaughterfish; with four legs.

"This is ridiculous." She muttered in exhaustion, shaking her head sharply. Water droplets rained around her, getting at least some off her glasses so she could see better. If this was going to be a regular occurrence, she'd have to find a handkerchief somewhere. If there even was a 'somewhere' that would have handkerchiefs in this deranged landscape of freakish beauty, of course.

She found out a small while later, though, that there was indeed a civilization in this Realm. She passed ruins that reminded her of those Ayleid structures she had seen on the shore when they were nearing Leyawiin's waters. These weren't quite the same, though they were equally overgrown by plant life. One was a square tomb-like building, and had a statue of a creature she had never seen before on one side. It resembled a Daedroth, one of Molag Bal's servants, and yet it did not, lacking that long and toothy snout. She shuddered as she realized it was more closely related to the beast she had just wrestled and moved on.

The other was a tall tower of stone with no discernable entrance or real d?cor, so she ignored it as well. But when she saw the stone archway in the distance with a wooden stairwell running up the side, she grinned widely and raced towards it. As she passed under it she made out two figures, one of them Redguard and the other Dunmer. All too eager, she rushed over to them. When she was next to them she stopped, resting her hands on her knees and panting.

"Hello!" The Redguard spoke up. The sound of his voice made Siena jolt her head up in surprise, and her eyes widened.

"Sheldon!" Hope radiating from her face she turned to the dunmer, her joy only rising. "Felas!" She pressed her left hand to her chest and exhaled, regaining control of her over-excited state. "Oh I am so glad to see you two. We have to find the others and leave here."

"Leave? Are you kidding? I've been here the longest! That's why I'm mayor of Passwall. That, and because I am the best at being in charge." He spread his hands towards the measly assemblage of three stone shacks. "Welcome to my town!"

Siena was stunned into silence, and looked over to Felas pleadingly, her mouth agape as if about to argue. Felas stared at her for a moment and then stepped back, holding up his hands to protect himself. "Don't breathe on me."

It was then that she noticed their new apparel. They both wore a thick cloth vest over their chests with a feathery shirt underneath. Studs dotted the suit nearly everywhere and straps held a waistcoat tightly around them. It looked almost like a pathetic attempt at armor.

Couple the attire with their responses, and Siena knew deep in her heart it was hopeless, sinking to her knees and silently sobbing.

Good, a much better job with Siena's emotion, especially with the crying at the end. To lose her friends to whatever madness fills the Isles must be maddening indeed. And a GREAT job with the descriptions of the creatures. Even if I haven't played SI just yet, I'm pretty sure I have a good idea at what a couple of them look like.

This is awesome. I love how you've presented the characters and your protagonist. I can't wait for her to have to fight Elytra and eat Felldew, though, heheh.

I can almost guarantee that area of the game will piss you off unless you're level 45 or greater.. or if you're a cheapface like my friend and abuse Paralyze.

I've actually played that part myself, and can't wait to write about it. I was level 3 at the time. I just can't play the game at those higher levels, it no longer is fun. I've actually nearly given up on the fighter's guild quests because of the ridiculous difficulty of it at level 15. Every Troll nearly kills me.

But so far SI has been wonderful at a low level. I'm trying to catch the fanfic up to how far I have played.

Chapter 5: Keeper of The Gates
Sheldon and Felas knelt next to the crying form of Siena, her shoulders heaving as she cried. Felas hesitantly reached out a hand, but then pulled it back. Sheldon instead placed his hand on Siena. "What's wrong?"

"Wha-what's wrong?" Siena snapped through her tears, looking up to glare at Sheldon. "You've all gone insane! The mayor of Passwall? how could you be a mayor of a town in less than twenty four hours?"

"Well, the place was pretty deserted when I got here." Sheldon admitted, shrugging. "Of course, once I was here others followed. Can't say I blame them."

"Of course you can't blame them!" Siena raised her voice at the Redguard, causing him to back away. "They came into the portal just like you did!"

"I find it to be a nice place. Less dirty than others." Felas remarked, causing Siena to turn her wrath upon him. "The old man, in the room made out of butterflies, he said to wait here."

Siena stopped, unable to think of a nasty comment. Instead she blinked, her anger fading into simple inquiry. "Wait for what?" Felas simply shrugged.

"I think we are supposed to wait for the Gatekeeper to allow us through." Sheldon remarked, and Siena found herself turning her head back to him.

"Through what?"

"The Gates of Madness." Sheldon replied as if he were talking about the sunny weather.

"One leads to the lands of Mania, and one to Dementia. The Gatekeeper makes sure no one gets in who isn't supposed to." Felas explained, folding his arms over his chest.

"The Gatekeeper?" Siena asked again, looking about as confused as when she had first set eyes upon the island portal.

Sheldon nodded. "He guards the Gates of Madness. They say the keys are sewn up in the Gatekeeper's body." Siena cringed at this, wondering what perversion was required to accomplish such a task. "Basically, that means you're not getting in."

"So? the Gatekeeper guards the Gates of Madness, which is the only way out of here?" Siena questioned, looking dazed.

"Yeah, he's pretty scary isn't he?" Felas asked, looking at Sheldon.

"Yeah. Come see for yourself, he's about to destroy a party of adventurers." Together Felas and Sheldon took off down the path with more gusto and excitement than Siena felt was truly appropriate. But what could she do except follow? She was stuck in this world, so far as she knew, and the Gates of Madness were the only escape she knew of. So she ran after them warily, her feet moving from cobblestone road to marble staircase and back again, as she brought herself up through four flights of stairs onto a small valley between two walls of stone. Before her lay a large wall with twin arches almost as tall as the tree she had seen on her way to Passwall. The architecture reminded her distinctly of Imperial battlements in Morrowind. Between the arches was a giant bust of a man, looking remarkably like the doorframe that led into this wretched realm, only with a closed mouth. He looked like he had the collar of a suit not unlike Sheldon and Fela's on his shoulders. From beneath the giant archways came two curving stairwells that ended in a plaza of marble.

And that plaza was the scene of a bloodbath like no other. Siena stood between Felas and Sheldon as an Orc in iron armor charged forward. "Stay back! Leave the Gatekeeper to us!" The Orc had snarled, but Siena had lost him in the sheer horror of what she saw.

It wasn't man. It wasn't beast. It wasn't even a Daedra recorded by mortal hands. It was? a behemoth of flesh. It had no face, at least none she could discern from this distance. It had to be almost ten times the size of the men it faced in battle now, obscenely large feet stomping down the comparatively miniscule steps as it charged. It didn't roar, didn't snarl, but gave more of a deathly groan, deep, loud, and throaty.

Chains connected to a cast iron choker on the monstrosity clanked as it landed on the stone plaza, its big toe crushing the steel-clad Argonian's foot. Two leather belts as wide as Siena were wrapped around its waist above a steel codpiece she was thankful was there. She might have puked if she saw the organs beneath that metal. A Nord with a steel claymore charged forward, sinking his blade into the leg of the Gatekeeper.

Siena couldn't see the wound inflicted from here, but she didn't see any blood, and that worried her. Reaching down with its massive left hand, the assortment of flesh batted the Nord away with the iron bracer it wore. Like swatting a fly, the Nord clattered to the stone a yard away and did not get up. That same left hand moved to grab the Argonian who had been crippled. Lifting the lizard from the ground effortlessly as the others futilely smashed at its shins, its fleshy fingers wrapped around her ever tighter.

Siena had to close her eyes and plug her ears to drown out the scream of agony, and kept her eyes closed when another cry rose shortly after.

"Oh no. They're bleeding all over the place!" Her eyes sprung open as Felas said this and she straightened to stare at him. Who was this man who looked like Felas?! He was holding his hand to his mouth and? Giggling!

"They should have listened to me." Sheldon said haughtily. Siena looked between the both of them in disbelief, before clenching her fists and cuffing the both of them in the head.

"They are dying and all you do is watch?!" She cried out as both men rubbed the backs of their heads, glaring at her.

"Well yeah." Sheldon snapped back, not flinching under Siena's harsh gaze beneath her shades. "Jayred Ice-Veins wants to kill it, but that sounds like suicide to me."

"The Gatekeeper looks indestructible." Felas affirmed, nodding towards the scene. Siena watched, as the last of the adventurers was cut vertically into two halves by a man-sized toothed sword. As his two sections fell to the ground, the Orc from before ran past them.

"He's too much! Killed all my men! Get out of my way!" The Orc stammered, shoving Siena out of the way and into Felas, who hastily pushed her away and began brushing off his suit.

But Siena could not take her eyes off the scene. She had only just realized the blade that had dealt the fatal blow was not held in a hand; it was the hand! From the right elbow down there was only iron, molded into a viciously serrated sword.

"Yuck. Look at all the blood and gore! I'm getting out of here." Felas remarked, and quickly removed himself from the premises.

"They should have listened to me." Sheldon sighed, shaking his head. Then he nodded to Siena. "Don't get to close to him, or he'll kill you. And leave a mess in my town like they did." Without another word Sheldon followed Felas, leaving Siena staring at his back like he had grown spikes along his spine.

Lower lip quivering, she turned to look back at the scene. Blood was smeared like confetti upon the right steps, at the base of which the massive fleshy thing stood. Shredded steal and gore decorated the ground. If Siena had eaten in the last day, she would have puked it up. Shuddering, she took a step forward, uncertain why. But her eyes were trained on the faceless giant in the distance in front of her.

When she felt her bare foot touch cold stone, the face of flesh turned to look at her with eyes that did not exist. She could see now that crimson red symbols were etched on its brow, and in various places on its body. Lines of red weaved around the Gatekeeper's body, a quilt of badly sewn together flesh. A low, rumbling groan emanated from the Gatekeeper, which lumbered toward her.

Siena screamed and fled, fear gripping her heart tighter than at any other time in her life. She stumbled down the stairs in a rush, hearing the impossibly heavy footfall of the Gatekeeper behind her.

On the second steps she fell, rolling to the base to look up and see the wicked sword coming towards her. "Ahhhh!" She rolled to her right, and felt the earth rumble beside her as bits of stone and dirt fell from the air. She wanted to lay there and catch her breath, but as the horror groaned she knew she had to move. Getting to her knees she crawled away desperately, feeling leathery skin brush against her wet leg as the hand closed around thin air behind her. Scrambling to her feet she ran with renewed energy.

The Gatekeeper took one step forward, and she knew it was already upon her again. Biting her lip she forced herself to concentrate as she leaped off the top of the third set of steps and into the air, arms spread as if she were flying. A whoosh of air informed her of how close to a skewering she had been.

She brought her arms over her head and bent her elbows, bracing herself for impact. Her hands hit the ground first, pain flaring in her wrists as they absorbed the shock and she rolled onto her back, getting to her feet at a crouch.

Her breath caught in her throat when she expected the thing to slash at her now, destroying every attempt she had made to survive. But nothing came. In a daze from the adrenaline rush Siena turned to see the Gatekeeper staring at her with that empty face, before it turned around and lumbered up the steps once more.

Trembling childishly, Siena looked at where she was; she had leaped over the third and fourth set of steps, getting back to the road to Passwall. A shaking hand brushed back her dark blue hair from the side of her face as she looked warily up the steps from beneath her shades. It had? stopped. It did not chase her past those steps. She was shocked into a stupor, unable to say or even think anything.

And then she heard a grumbling, and leaped to her feet. Her iron dagger shook in her hand as she looked around her to find nothing attacking. The grumble came again, and she looked down.

It was her stomach.

Sighing, Siena inhaled deeply, closing her eyes before exhaling. She continued these deep breathes for half an hour until her heart had calmed, and then sheathed her dagger. Opening her eyes again, she placed her hands on her lean stomach.

"I need to eat?" She moaned, turning to the small town of Passwall. Jayred Ice-Veins wants to kill it. Jayred? wasn't that the ship captain?! Siena thought as she approached the Wastrel's Purse. Maybe I should find him when I am done eating. She knew on thing was certain. If she were to get through the Gates and find a way to help her friends, she would have to kill the Gatekeeper and get the keys from its flesh.

But as she came to the door of the Inn, she shuddered at the image of the Gatekeeper amongst all that gore. She forced herself to forget the image for the sake of her appetite.

It may be that the real reason she would have to kill the Gatekeeper would be in order to eat and sleep properly again. And that was more powerful an enforcer than helping her friends.

This certainly is a cool one ^^ I cant wait for her to meet good ol' daM doG ^^ gonna be awesome.
Im giving this a rating of good cheese ^^ Oh wait... I ate it. Cheese for no one.
Keep it up.

I am writing something that has the exact speech every NPC says, but for some instances it seems as if the NPC's tell your character what the reader already knows. Should I include every single thing the NPC's say? Other than that your story has very good descriptions of everything, characters are well thought out (the ones that you created), and they all mesh together quite well. Well anyways, good job!