Svengarde

Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:54 am

Hello Forumites! This here is my first fan-fiction that Im writing in the ES Universe. It's mostly Oblivion based though. I hope you guys enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and if I seem to be harsh in the responses to criticism; just ignore me. I do actually listen to it later on. :) Anyway; here goes!

Edit: I know it looks huge, but it's just the weird spacing.. :P

Svengarde

There he sat, in the corner of his cell, face in palms, brooding as usual.

Four hundred days. . . he thought to himself grimly. Four hundred days I've been suffering in this private hell.

"You're looking pretty down for someone who's getting released today, Nord." cried the Dunmer in the cell diagonal to his. "You going to miss me?" he teased, cackling maniacally.

"Shut it." the Nord demanded through gritted teeth, and the Dunmer turned his attention instead to the prisoner in the cell opposite his own.

Atleast he's not bothering me anymore. he sighed. I swear, if he said one more word I would put a price on his damned head.

Hours passed, as the Nord contemplated what he would do once he was out.

I don't know anyone out there. Where will I go? No one would give work to a smuggler. he continued pondering, a thousand questions entering his mind, none of which he had the answers for.

Finally, a sharp creak was heard, and the sound of descending footsteps came from the staircase. The sharp clangs of the guards' metal boots sounded like thunder in contrast to the eerie silence of the Imperial Dungeon. The foot steps drew closer and closer to the Nords cell.

"Galen Svengarde?" the burly jailer called.

The Nord didn't reply to the sound of his name, but his ears perked up and turned his head in the direction of the voice. His deep set, black eyes piercing through the man who spoke.

"You've served your sentence well. Let us hope you've learned your lesson." the guard declared, pulling out the keys from his belt to open the door, eyeing Galen warily.

He merely snorted in response and raised himself to his full height; head and shoulders above the plump Imperial guard.

The jailer moved forward, one hand on the hilt of his sheathed blade, while the other held the key to open Galens shackles.

"Easy now, I won't open them until you're out of here." he warned, tilting his head towards the exit, motioning the Nord to follow him. Walking towards the door, the guard constantly kept one eye on the prisoner who followed closely behind him.

It's been so long since I've done this. Galen realized, referring to the fact that he had not climbed a flight of stairs in more than a full year. He almost slipped on the first few steps, causing the guard to unsheathe his sword, thinking that the prisoner was about to attempt some sort of dangerous stunt.

Why would I try to escape when my sentence is over? he rolled his eyes, as the jailer put his sword back into its scabbard. The guard had reason to be cautious though. The prisoner was no ordinary petty thief or drunkard involved in a squabble . It was a young Nordic man who had led a harsh life on the sea. Galen may not have been as strong as he was prior to his capture, but he maintained a general level of fitness that was on par with Cyrodiils finest athletes.

"Now, you're allowed a free bath." the jailer informed. "Courtesy of the Crown Prince. He frowns upon dirty folk. Which begs the question; why not turn his attention to Bravil?" he continued more to himself than the prisoner. "But you wouldn't know much about that, now would you?" he guffawed.

Galen merely grunted back. It was true that he had spent very little time on mainland Cyrodiil. He had visited the Imperial City a couple times while his crew members unloaded and distributed crates of Skooma across the province. It was not an honorable living; smuggling Skooma, and certainly not Galens own choice of profession, but he was a sailor in need of a situation. Only a smuggling ship would allow such a young an inexperienced crew member on board.

"I hear you're of noble blood. How did you end up in the smuggling business anyway?" the guard asked curiously, now at the door of the chamber in which prisoners are allowed to wash.

Galen groaned. "My father was killed in battle, I needed money to support my mother and brother. I learned to sail with my father as a child-" he was answering reluctantly when he was cut short.

"Killed in battle? What was he, a soldier?" the guard gasped.

"Captain in the Skyrim naval forces. His galleon was plundered by pirates. No one survived." he answered, clearly agitated for having to tell the same story numerous times.

How ironic? he thought to himself. You join the side of the people who killed your father. Is that how it is? His self loathing reaching to new heights.

"Well, here's the bath chamber. Make it quick." the jailer nodded, opening the door for the Nord. "Oh yes, and you shan't be needing these anymore." he added, eying the shackles on the Nords wrists and ankles. He swiftly unlocked them, and picked the chains up. Galens perpetual frown curled into a weak smile, but only for an instant, as he rubbed the parts of his body that had been restrained. Heaving a sigh or relief he entered the damp and dark chamber made of stone blocks. One steady stream of water flowing onto the ground from a gape in the wall. His excitement of having been unchained was short lived, as he was greeted by this unwelcoming sight.

Well isn't this sophisticated? he sniggered, tearing open his brittle prison garments, and throwing them aside.

"You're not getting new ones you know!" the guard shouted from the outside. Scrunching his face, he decided to leave the scraps of clothing be and place his naked, hard body under the jet of ice cold water. To any one else, it would have been unbearably cold, but his Nordic blood allowed him to stand without so much as twitching under the freezing stream.

He ran his hands all over himself, his strong jaw, his chiseled chest, the contours of his abdomen, all the way down to the underside of his broad feet, wiping off the thick layer of grime on his skin. Before he had been imprisoned he boasted a bronze glow due to the time he spent under the sun. However, one year without direct sunlight reverted his skin to its original, fair color, and pale complexion. Stroking his short, closely cropped hair, he began rubbing vigorously, so as to make sure no dirt remained. This was not only a cleansing of his body, but a cleaning of his soul. He vowed never to take upon such a dishonorable opportunity ever again. If he was to do something, it would be noble and valiant.

***
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Astargoth Rockin' Design
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:31 pm

***

Once he had completed bathing, he exited the chamber, still naked. The jailer gasped in shock and turned away immediately.

"By the Nines, put some clothes on, Nord!" he yelped.

"I tore them, remember?" he explained cooly.

The guards' face reddened with anger, but decided to hold in any curses he might have been thinking. Galen fought the urge to smile.

"Well, just cover yourself with the torn cloth, and follow me. See if I can find you anything." he mumbled, still fuming.

"You should have warned me before." he shrugged, but complied.

Before long, the Nord was fitted with a new prisoners garb. Relatively new, that is. The latest pair of clothing they give out here must be from atleast the second era. he concluded, brushing a maggot off of his pathetic excuse for a shirt. They were rags, but they were clothing nonetheless.

"Well, it's time you go on your own now. Im sure you must have-" the jailer began, as they stood in the Imperial Dungeon main office. However he was cut short by sounds coming from the dungeon itself. Galen could barely make out what was being said, but he gathered a female voice talking about safety. The chubby guard trotted over to the door, temporarily forgetting the reformed prisoner he was about to officially release. Slapping his helmet, he then turned back to relieve the Nord. "Long story short, you're free to go!" he announced, before disappearing down the staircase.

Imperials. Galen shrugged, and turned to exit the building, anxious to breath some fresh air after such a long time of depravity. When he opened the door, he was all but ecstatic at the sights and sounds that greeted him. For the first time in four hundred days, his expression formed into a broad, gleaming smile.

"Free at last." he raised his arms, inhaling deeply. The first sight that met his dark eyes, was that of the sunlight reflecting off of the calm ocean surface on either side of the bridge leading up to the large city which harbored the large obelisk-like structure known as the White-Gold Tower. All the sounds were as familiar to him as if he had stood here only yesterday, the birds chirping, the gentle tune played by the waveless water, the sound of the peaceful breeze on a spring afternoon, but there was one sound he did not recall, and it was one accompanied by a smell. The sound of someone breaking wind. The sharp noise came from beside him. Another Imperial guard.

"Excuse me." the guard blushed, obviously utterly mortified for passing gas in the presence of another.

Galens smile dropped, and the usual grim expression took it's place once more. "Control yourself next time." he mumbled quietly, and began pacing in the direction of the city to avoid the pungent smell that was about to make its way into the Nords nostrils. Entering the main city, he didn't notice too many differences from the last time he saw it over a year ago. Clean slick city streets, bustling with citizens, most of which he was taller than. The general buzz sounded like he was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm at sea, as compared to the morbid silence of the dungeon cell.

Im not used to having so many people around me. He noted, dodging a courier that flitted past him. Damn Khajiits. Never watching where they're going.

Exploring the cities' market district was rather refreshing. Dozens of shops lined either side of the curving street, selling everything and anything Nirn had to offer. From food to clothing to armor to jewelry to weaponry. Even books and alchemical ingredients for more educated people. It then dawned upon Galen that he needed money to buy any one of these things, and he noticed a grumbling noise coming from his belly amidst the pvssyr of the market.

Need money. he focused himself, thinking hard. Seeing if he could remember something that he could do for a quick bit of income. While deep in thought several aristocrats passed him. They were simply waddling along, lightening their purses for the sake of pleasure. Galen considered theft for an instant before quickly disregarding the idea completely.

No, noble and valiant. he reminded himself.

***
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Anne marie
 
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Post » Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:16 pm

I like your style :D This seems like it could turn out quite epic.

Keep up the good work mate, looking forward for more!

:intergalactic:
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LijLuva
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 3:29 am

There is nothing wrong with the spacing, Holy Assassin. It's easier to read that way. Its good how you describe the world around Galen, so everything is alive, not bland and gray. Well done and keep it up, as I look forward to read more!
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Lou
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:08 pm

Wohoo! I like it :D

Though I kinda wonder why the guard was so shocked by Galen's nudity. I mean, the guards change their clothing in the guard towers and they share bath houses (or wherever they go to clean themselves). Makes me wonder if his :hubbahubba: was of... abnormal proportions :P

Nitpicking: (hey, you asked for it ;))

...and the sound of descending foot steps came from the staircase... - It is 'footsteps' in one word.

...The All the sounds were as familiar... - seems like you got caught up between 'the sounds' and 'all the sounds'

...sunlight reflecting off the calm ocean... - I think it should be 'off of'. I'm not too sure about that, though.
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Shelby McDonald
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:52 am

...sunlight reflecting off the calm ocean... - I think it should be 'off of'. I'm not too sure about that, though.

I dunno. Would it be, "sunlight reflecting off the calm ocean surface"? I am unsure about this too.

Edit: Typo.
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Jerry Jr. Ortiz
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:00 am

I appreciate your optimism Murr'pau. :)

Thanks for the heads up on spacing Shmuty; I was really unsure how it would be taken.

And the most gratitude goes to AyumiFan ofcourse for actually picking out minor details like those. They're the ones which make the biggest difference; because it takes a person out of the scene if he sees something wrong like that. I don't really know how it works in fan-fic threads though... Do I go back and fix the mistakes; or just leave it like that? I'll fix em for now so others reading don't see it; but just tell me for future reference. :D

Next part should be up in the next few days..
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trisha punch
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 2:50 am

It is good practice to go back and fix your mistakes. And when you have fixed the grammar mistakes in your first chapters they look more inviting to new readers :thumbsup:

Next few days? Aww... *sulky*
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louise hamilton
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:01 am

great job! you have really caught my attention. Cant wait for more. Then again i like anything with Nords.
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April
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 3:52 am

***

Letting his dark eyes roam freely, surveying the crowd he noticed a group of adolescent boys laughing and talking, sneaking glances at a gang of similarly aged girls on the opposite side of the street. By their appearance; they all seemed well-to-do. Children of nobles. Galen deduced, still staring at them, remembering his own fiery youth. How he used to practice sailing with his father. How he used to court young ladies. How he used to sneak out with his friends to drink ale.

He was snapped out of his moment of reminiscence by one of the boys in the group that had caught sight of him staring.

"You, come here!" the boy waved, as Galen was beginning to turn away.

What in the name of Oblivion could he want? the Nord wondered, striding over to them. "Aye" he grunted.

"Listen beggar" the apparent leader of the boys spoke. A handsome looking young Imperial wearing a burgundy outfit. "I'll give you ten gold to ask one of those young ladies what they think of me." he offered bluntly.

Gritting his teeth for being mistook for a beggar; Galen had difficulty holding his tongue. He thought for a minute however. Ten gold. Should be enough to fill my stomach. I can't blame them for thinking I am anything more than a beggar. Most beggars here are probably better dressed than me anyway. he reasoned. Loosening his jaw to once again speak.

"Why can you not do this yourself?" he asked. The other boys in the group guffawed as the Nord revealed the young boys lack of confidence.

"Do you want the money or not?" the boy replied, furrowing his brow.

Merely snorting, Galen turned to walk towards the young maidens. Approaching them, he noticed all of them were rather beautiful; but unfortunately just shy of mating age.

"Good day" he greeted the girls; who were apparently out shopping with their mothers, but decided to group here to gossip. They merely giggled in reply, eyeing Galen from head to toe, noticing his broad shoulders, and lean arms.

"Look at the muscles on you!" the boldest of them blurted out, causing the others to burst into a fit of coy laughter. "You should be a fighter in the arena!" another added, once they had finished laughing.

The idea came like a torch being lit in a dark cave, illuminating all the treasures stored within. The Arena. he thought to himself. I could join the arena. I could become a famous warrior; strong, brave, famous. the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile; which immediately disappeared when the boldest girl spoke once more.

"You wished to speak with us?" she asked, smiling at the Nord.

"What do you think of that boy there. The one in burgundy garments." he said cocking his head towards the excited Imperial youngling across the street.

Gasping as she looked at the boy, she replied instantly. "He looks rather dashing!" she exclaimed, causing the other girls to once more break out into a fit of giggles.

Without another word; Galen simply left them to cackle, walking back to the boys on the other end; dodging the crowd of people walking down the street.

"She says you're dashing." he mumbled. "The gold."

"W-what?" the boys jaw dropped.

Heaving out a sigh, he repeated himself. "You promised ten gold." he then added, fighting the urge to tap his foot in impatience.

The Imperial adolescent gladly slapped ten gold coins into Galens outstretched palm, and Galen turned away. Children. he snorted. They shouldn't even exist.

Finally. he thought to himself, feeling relieved and starting browsing the shops once more; looking at the sign boards for one with a painting of food on it. After nearly an hour of searching and brushing past shoulders in the dense crowd he chanced upon a board in the corner with the type of picture he was looking for.

The- The F-The Fee- he tried reading. Oh, the hell with it! he gave up; entering the bar.

"Put on the Feed Bag! Im Delos Fandas. We got food and drink, and lots of it!" the proprietor greeted. A middle-aged looking Dunmer dressed in clothes no better than Galens own.

Feed Bag. So that's what the sign said. he noted. "Hail Delos Fandas. May I order something to eat?" Galen managed to ask, deceptively polite despite his stomach growling violently.

"What would you like?" the Dunmer asked, smiling.

The Nord stopped to think for a while. Bread. Bread and something to wash it down with. he decided. "A loaf of bread would be nice and-" he paused; looking at the stack of bottles behind the publican. Hmm, can't be too expensive he thought to himself when he caught sight of a bottle of mead. Mead. Like back in Skyrim. Perfect.

"I'd like some bread, please. With some mead." Galen ordered.

"Thank you for your patronage!" the perky proprietor chirped; serving a plate of bread and bottle of mead.

Simply nodding in response he payed his due. He then took the plate and the bottle, seating himself on one of the many empty tables in the bar. There were only one or two more patrons as it was not quiet closing time for other businesses; meaning the rush had not yet began. Shrugging, he began to delve into his meal.

This mead is excellent. he commented internally, tasting it once he had completely devoured the loaf of bread. Once again almost smiling while drinking his beverage, his thoughts suddenly turned to his sustenance which forced the smile back into the deepest pits of his heart. I got lucky this time. But what will I do for tomorrow? More importantly, where will I sleep tonight? he wondered, quickly downing the rest of his drink as tired shopkeepers began seeping in through the front door, and a sleepy musician at the back of the establishment began playing his lute to entertain the new patrons.

Galen slipped out before it got too noisy; and was greeted by the setting sun. Looking around himself, he absorbed the scene of the Imperial city at twilight. The crowd had thinned considerably, and the roads were much more clearly visible. He traced the shapes of the buildings with his eyes, soaking in the different colors, and listened for the quiet chirping of crickets. Right. A place to rest for the night. he concentrated.

Before long, he found himself wandering aimlessly throughout the market district, exploring the entire area, occasionally stopping to share brief words with residents. Mostly answering questions. The moment they heard he had just got out of jail; the conversation ended. Since he liked this idea, he kept stating it in every time someone engaged him in verbal exchange, thus shortening it. During this he also learned some general information about the Imperial City and Cyrodiil in general.

"You must be from Bruma!" a fellow Nord stopped him. "Hail!"

"Bruma?" Galen repeated.

The Nord simply chortled in response.

"I've only just gotten off a boat on the Waterfront. I do not know much about Cyrodiil." he lied smoothly.

"Ah! Then say that!" the Nord boomed, patting Galen on the shoulder. "Bruma is a city up North, where it snows just like back home in Skyrim!" he explained. "I plan on visiting someday." he continued.

"Sounds like a place I must visit." Galen mumbled in response. "Be seeing you." he greeted finally, forcing a weak smile.

"You too!"

Bruma. Sounds like where I should be heading. Will take me closer to Skyrim. Closer to home. I wonder how mother and brother are fairing. But for now, where am I supposed to rest? How will I fund a trip all the way up North? What occupation should I take up here? There must be some form of work on the Waterfront. I shall see tomorrow.

It was past dusk by the time Galen had chanced upon a side alley in the district between two buildings that led to a small garden, in the corner of which there lay an old bedroll. Seemingly unused for months, the Nord decided it would be safe for him to spend the night here.

Itchy. Dirty. Insect ridden. he observed the bedroll he had squirmed into. Much better than the one in prison.

***
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Invasion's
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:02 am

:celebration:

I like it. More, please. :happy: Sven is a really interesting guy, it's fun hearing what he's thinking and he makes for a good point of view for a story.
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Benjamin Holz
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:49 am

Why thank you Troyatz! I appreciate the kind words. :)

*bows in humility*
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Flutterby
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:52 am

***

Galen awoke at the crack of dawn and stretched his body. Having spent so much time in prison; he was used to being stiff after waking from slumber. The streets of the market district were completely empty around this hour, as the Nord made his way back to his favorite bar. The only one he knew; The Feed Bag.

"Put on the Feed Bag! I'm Delos Fandas. We got food and drink, and lots of it!" the publican said. The same thing he had said the last time Galen entered, and with just as much zest as the first time. The Nord blinked for a moment.

"Yes. I am aware of this." he said, rather bewildered as to why he would repeat himself word for word. "I would like some bread please."

Before he had completed his sentence the proprietor held a plate of bread in front of him, flashing a toothy grin. Dunmer. Galen shrugged, grabbing the plate and tossing the septims into his eager hands. Once he had finished, he decided to finally head over to the waterfront where he might find temporary employment.

I may be rusty, but sea-faring is all I know. he reasoned to himself. I have no other choice. Before long, he had opened the door to the waterfront and stood on the docks.

"The sea" he breathed, watching the early morning sun hover over the horizon, making the surface of the water glimmer. "So beautiful." Several ships were docked, however there was no sound to be heard save for the squawking of birds, and the gentle motion of the waves caressing the edge of the waterfront.

No one is out here. Galen noted, feeling rather disappointed. Seafarers I know would have been up and about hours ago. Resigning himself to the fact that there was little to no activity, the Nord decided to explore the area, walking up a set of staircase on the far end of the dock leading back down to another end of the city in which poor people resided. The slums of the Imperial City. he deduced, walking up to the small, poorly built hovels that lined the backside of the waterfront. Standing next to one, he noticed that his own large structure was taller than that of the house itself, causing the faintest of smiles to flash across his face.

They definitely didn't have Nords in mind when they built these. he mused. While staring out in the distance, across a body of water to the rest of Cyrodiil he heard a door creak open. Twisting in place, he realized that it was from the hovel that he had just been sizing up, and exiting from the building was a pleasant albeit modest looking Redguard.

"Greetings" Galen grumbled, when he noticed the man smiling at him for several moments.

His smile broadened as he opened his mouth to speak. "The cal me Isleif the Open Handed. Because I'm so generous." he boasted, disgusting the Nord.

With a grimace he lied. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The redguard now identified as Iseif was now looking the Nord from head to toe. Apparently assessing his financial situation. "I share my good fortunes with the poor and needy. You seem like you could use some help, friend." he told Galen.

Again being mistook for a beggar? Galen fumed. Just look at this arrogant fool. He's dressed in clothing not much better than my own! He had yet to become accustomed to being looked down in this way, but forced himself to remain civil, lest he return to jail, this time for murder.

"Thank you for this kind offer. But I would much rather have some work." he replied finally, through gritted teeth. "Perhaps there is a Captain in need of a sailor. I should be leaving now. Be seeing you." Galen excused himself, feeling utterly fed up with the Redguard. Bastard.

"Wait!" Isleif called as the Nord took several steps away. "I may have some work for you." he added, causing Galen to turn back.

"Work you say?" he confirmed.

"Indeed. Bring me a few deer pelts. I need some new carpets." he explained. "You shall be paid of course."

"But I am no hunter. I cannot-" Galen began, but was interrupted.

"Ah-ah! Time is running out!" the Redguard smirked. "I'll be waiting right here." he informed, standing in the doorway of his home.

The Nord merely exhaled deeply in response.

"Oh yes, and you may need this to skin them." he added, placing an iron dagger in Galens large, pale hands.

"Fine." he agreed finally. "How many do you need?"

"Two will be more than enough." Isleif answered.

Without another word, Galen had left the area, now in search for deer. Where am I going to find deer? And how am I supposed to bring their pelts back here? he wondered, looking at the ocean, contemplating his next move. I could swim out to the other side of the large body of water for the deer. he thought. No, then the pelts would get wet when I bring them back. he realized, and plunged even deeper into thought, sitting down against a wall, with his hands on his face. The position in which he often sat when his mind was at work.

***
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how solid
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:31 am

I wonder how he will catch those deer... hiding in the bushes, perhaps? :laugh:
I always thought that Delos was a little too enthusiastic every single time I entered The Feed Bag.


Grammartastics:
Im Delos Fandas. – I am = I’m (this was probably just a slip :) )
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Kevan Olson
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 2:23 am

I wonder how he will catch those deer... hiding in the bushes, perhaps? :laugh:
I always thought that Delos was a little too enthusiastic every single time I entered The Feed Bag.


Grammartastics:
Im Delos Fandas. – I am = I’m (this was probably just a slip :) )


Fixed. Thanks! I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! :celebration:
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des lynam
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:27 pm

hell yeh its great!
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Timara White
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:02 am

Very enjoyable :)
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Verity Hurding
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 8:48 am

***

As he sat there; on the ground, he let his hands wander off of his face and onto the ground. So lush, so green. He noticed, brushing his hands over the grass under him. Several pebbles were resting beside him, and he unconsciously picked them up, rolling them in his palms whilst still deep in thought.

Deer. he continued pondering. Even if I find them, how do I kill them? His dark eyes fell upon the pebbles once more, and an idea entered his head. Brilliant.

Jumping up off the ground he dropped the pebbles and hastily brushed his pants, before jogging out of the waterfront district and all the way out of the other end of the Imperial City. This city is enormous. he noted, as he felt himself slowing down after passing several large doors. It's empty too. Finally at the grand gate of the city, the Nord stepped out; to face a long bridge that led to mainland Cyrodiil.

Stepping outside the first thing he noticed was the wonderful landscape that sprawled before him. Beyond the stone bridge was rolling hills of green, dotted with shrubbery and trees, followed by mountain peaks in the distance. A gentle breeze blew, but not one that chilled him; like the ones in Skyrim. A pleasant breeze, that warms ones soul. Makes one feel at one with nature. The Nine have blessed this land. Galen declared, unable to control his emotion of utter awe.

Now, back to business. He thought to himself, snapping out of his state of happiness, and thrusting himself back into the pit of self loathing, and bitterness in which he used to dwell. I know how I'll do it. he kept repeating to himself in his mind, not bothering to greet an elderly looking fisherman that he passed on the way off the bridge leading to the Imperial City and into an area he had learned was called the "West Weald" from a sleepy looking explorer he encountered on the way out of the city.

Continuing deep into the thick forest, Galen noticed the abundance of wildlife. Not many of which he could name, however. If they were fish, he could have identified them in a heartbeat. He had spent very little time on land, even in Skyrim. Cyrodiil was out of the question. He could recognize the difference between a bear, and a bird; and that was all he felt was necessary. Fortunately for him; he was hunting neither. Instead he was looking for deer, an animal which too was present in the forest.

Several flitted by him, as he lowered his pace, and slowly came to a halt. Right, time to get started. I only need two. he reminded himself, and put his plan into action. The Nord lowered himself onto the ground, and began searching for stones. Ones big enough to fit in his entire hand. Oldest weapon on Nirn. he noted, choosing several rocks of the right size and shape.

Standing still for several moments, he waited for another creature to pass by him, but none came. There were several just a moment ago. Where have they gone? Galen wondered, beginning to walk ahead, careful not to step on any leaves, so as not to alert his prey. Clutching the stones tightly, he came upon a small pond in the midst of the dense forest. What a surprise.

The pond was at the end of a brooke, and speckled with several flowers and petals floating on the clear blue surface. At the other end of the lake were several animals resting and having a drink. Among them, deer. Excellent. The Nord shuffled closer to the pond, taking care to remain unseen. Stretching his arm several times, he prepared himself for the shot. One of the deer turned its head in the other direction. It was the only chance, Galen let the stone fly with full might.

It was pure luck that his shot connected, as he was completely out of practice. The poor deer was struck right on its head, and was immediately knocked unconscious, most likely dead. The Nord had no time to check, and confirm, as the other deer burst into a sprint in the other direction. He was ready for this however, and dashed after them, leaping across the entire pond in a single stride. Taking aim, he threw yet another rock at one of the fleeing deer, but the stone failed to meet its mark.

With one rock remaining, Galen uttered a silent prayer before tossing his final rock at the group of deer. It hit one, but on one of its legs severely crippling it. The lone deer, limped ahead, trying to catch up with its fellows that had long since disappeared into the dense forest. The Nord felt a twang of remorse as he approached the injured animal, simultaneously taking out his new dagger, putting the creature out of its misery by slitting its throat. He watched as the deer bled out, and twitched for the final time, meanwhile catching his own breath. That was the easy part. he breathed. Now I have to skin them. Galen realized, looking down at the dubious looking dagger. Shrugging, he began.

It was messy work, but he had finally finished, slinging the pelt and venison onto his back and going back for the other deer, which he had completely forgotten about. Was it even dead? What if it got up and ran away? He wondered, cringing for his lack for foresight. To his surprise however, the carcass was still laying where he left it, cold and dead. It took less time than the previous to skin it, but several hours had passed since he had left the city for his hunt.

The sun was at its peak as Galen made his way back to the city; two bloody pelts in tow as well as several slabs of meat . He was met with countless stares and gasps. Even stopped by a guard for some questioning before he was let into the market district, and finally the waterfront where Isleif must have been awaiting his return. The Nord trudged over to the hovel in which the Redguard resided, and tapped the door, although softly for fear of breaking it down.

"Come in!" came a pleasant voice from the inside, and Galen entered, ducking, so as not to hit his head against the frame of the door. Although Redguards were generally rather large themselves, this one seemed perfectly content with living in such a small space, which had infact turned out to be even smaller than the Nord has initially presumed.

A dimly lit shack, with a bed in one corner, and a table in another, lazily strewn with utensils and a dusty chest against the wall. If this man had any fortunes whatsoever, he clearly has never spent a coin on his home. It seemed like it had not been cleaned in years. Stooping his head, Galen noticed that he stood on a torn and dirty carpet. Something that was in worse condition than anything else in the room. This must be what he wanted to replace. the Nord deduced, locking eyes with the Redguard before opening his mouth to speak.

"I have done what you asked." he informed him, handing the pelts over to him, and keeping the meat for himself.

"Thank you." Iseif replied, taking the pelts and placing them on the trunk. He then turned to pour the Nord a cup of water. "Here, have some." he offered.

Nodding, Galen accepted, gulping every last drop. "Thank you."

"I promised some gold." the Redguard spoke once more, stifling through the pocket in his pants. Isleif handed him a small sack of Septims, shortly. "Thirty gold should be a fair price." he smiled.

Taking the gold with his free hand, Galen nodded, and left the hovel.

"Do come again!" he called from inside.

By the time the entire ordeal had finished; it was late afternoon, and time for some food. But not before a quick wash. The Nord made his way to the edge of the lake surrounding the slums of the waterfront district and cleaned himself, although did not remove his pants, as now there were many more people out and about, as compared to the early morning when he had first visited. Returning to the slabs of meat he had placed on a boulder, he picked them up, rinsed them and went to an open fire several beggars were huddled around.

***
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Alexandra Ryan
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 10:42 am

"Taking aim, he threw yet another rock at one of the fleeing deer, but did the stone failed to meet its mark."

Noticed a small typo/sentence glitch/whaeva. But anyhoo, Sven is wonderful in all his manly grumyness. :thumbsup: And apparently he's a deer-stoner...

Wantzmoar!
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Undisclosed Desires
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:04 am

"Taking aim, he threw yet another rock at one of the fleeing deer, but did the stone failed to meet its mark."

Noticed a small typo/sentence glitch/whaeva. But anyhoo, Sven is wonderful in all his manly grumyness. :thumbsup: And apparently he's a deer-stoner...

Wantzmoar!


Thanks for mentioning. Fixed it. :D
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Kirsty Wood
 
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Post » Fri Feb 18, 2011 10:31 pm

nice, me likes it :) he seems like a very interesting character. MORE NOW
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Arrogant SId
 
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Post » Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:04 am

I like it! Do continue! :)
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james reed
 
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Post » Fri Feb 18, 2011 9:40 pm

***

"I'll give you all a piece if I can cook on this fire." he mumbled to the group of beggars who sat near the fire, chatting amongst themselves. He was referring to the fresh venison he had just ripped directly off of the deer he had been hunting earlier today.

"It would be our pleasure." the apparent leader said, smiling a toothless grin.

Forcing a faint smile in response, Galen sat down cross-legged on the ground, and picked up a nearby stick with which to skewer the meat. He then held the skewers to the fire to cook. Before long; the venison was crispy and edible.

"Mmm. This is very good." one of the beggars noted between mouthfuls of the tender deer meat.

"Indeed. Delicious Galen." another smiled, gnawing away at the food. The poor man must have been starving. he realized.

"Do not mention it." The Nord nodded, sinking his teeth into his own share. There was more than enough to go around, as Galen had picked two separate deer bone dry.

"So, Galen. You seem strong, and resourceful. How did you end up as a beggar?" the leader asked innocently.

The Nord suddenly stopped eating, and lowered the food from his mouth, giving the man a long, bitter glare. I'm being nice to these people and sharing my food with them, and they think of me as someone of their own social status. he thought to himself grimly. Sighing, he began to explain his entire story and situation. To any passers-by, they must have looked like a group of friends sharing folk tales. When he completed his story they all nodded their heads thoughtfully.

"I knew you were more than a beggar!" one of them cried, causing all the others to burst out laughing. Galen himself flashed a quick smirk, before getting up to leave.

"Thank you all for sharing the fire." he mumbled solemnly. "And the company." he added.

"Thank you for sharing your venison! It has been years since any of us has had any!" the leader gleamed.

The Nord left the group of disheveled men to return to the docks. Sailors better be awake now. he grumbled to himself, looking up at the clear blue sky as he drew closer to the docks. They are. The entire waterfront had transformed during the time Galen was out hunting. It was now just as crowded as the market district, except the crowd was not nearly as refined. Fishermen, crate-carriers, sailors, pirates, and people of the like bustled in the dockyard. Thebuzz of chatting, yelling seamen and dropped crates filled the air, as he made his way over to one of the ships in which several poorly dressed men sang songs to each other upon the deck. One of them noticed him approach and called out.

"You there! What are ye doing here?" he rasped, pulling out a dagger and waving it menacingly, despite being all the way on a ship while Galen stood on the ground.

He held his tongue for a moment, not wanting to insult someone he would be asking help from. Once he had a grip on his temper he asked the man in as pleasant a voice as he could manage. "Would you ask your captain if you have any room for another skilled sailor, such as myself?" Galen was lying about being skilled however. He had not even laid eyes on a ship for over a year. There was no doubt that he would not perform well at first. I'll deal with that problem when I get to it.

The stout Imperial sailor eyed the Nord thoroughly. Grunting, he knocked on the captains door.

"What in the name of Azura is it?" came the booming voice from inside.

"Cap'n. There's a Nord here looking for work. Should we let 'em on board?" the sailor cried back.

After a short pause, a burly looking man burst through the door, and made his way to the deck of the ship, leaning over the edge. "Which one is it?" he asked his sailor, scanning the crowd. In response he pointed to the tall, broad figure of a Nord.

"It is I." Galen uttered, taking a step forward.

The captain sized him up for a moment. "You seem strong." he noted, stroking his bearded chin. "You have experience?"

"Aye." I have experience with smuggling. But you don't need to know that, do you?

He stood silent and thought for another moment. "We could use a third mate." the captain mumbled to himself. "Come on up then, Nord!" he called cheerily, and Galen made his way across the thin plank that connected the ship to the docks. "Your name?" he asked, once Galen was face to face with the crew members.

"Galen Svengarde. Able seamen." he introduced himself as briefly as possible.

"Good. Good." the captain repeated, still stroking his chin. The captain himself was an old Imperial, bloated, and modestly dressed. "Silian Laecus. Captain Laecus to you though." he chuckled. "Meden Uvalor, my first mate." he said, patting a Dark Elf standing beside himself. "And Arenar Nuccius. Second mate." he introduced the Imperial who Galen had first seen.

"It is good to meet you all." the Nord said.

"Aye, it is not only good, it is wonderful!" the Dunmer smiled, wrapping one arm around Galens shoulder, although he had to stretch in order to reach it. "We have been looking for a third mate for some time. I do hope you do well." his blue mouth stretched into a gleeful grin.

The Imperial who had been twirling his dagger up until now sheathed it, and approached the Nord with a smile of his own. "I apologize for my earlier hostility. Welcome." he nodded.

"Indeed! Welcome to the crew of the Fletcher Galley!" the Captain roared, as the other members cheered.

Galen could not help but feel happy. He finally felt at home once more, felt like he belonged. Like he had a cause. Before he could muster the strength of his face muscles to smile, the celebration was cut short by a clang from the lower deck, a figure emerging from below. It was an Argonian. Most likely a member of the crew.

"Ah, we forgot about him." the Captain tapped his forehead, ushering the Argonian over. "This is Olumeet."

"Greetings." the Nord said.

"You too." Olumeet replied, allowing his scaly lips to curl into a smile.

"Olumeet, this is Sven Galenarde. Our new third mate." the captain announced.

To this, the smile on the Argonians face faded. "I see." he hissed, seeming disappointed. "Excuse me." he said, smiling once more, however not in a pleasant manner. Doesn't seemed too pleased to hear the news. Galen deduced, as the Argonian descended back into the lower deck along with his malicious smile.

"My name is Galen Svengarde." the Nord corrected, although was not as upset as he would normally have been. At least remember my name, Imperial. he snorted to himself.

For the next several hours, the entire crew gave Galen a thorough tour of the ship and all the work he would be doing. "As third mate, your primary task would be to assure our security." the Dunmer explained, as they perched themselves on the stern. "Aside from this, we ask you to simply follow whatever orders you are given. Have you ever been on a fishing galley before?"

"Nay."

"Well it is not very difficult I assure you." he smiled. The Dunmer was a pleasant character, always asking if Galen needed any further explanation and showing him every nook and cranny of the boat. When night fell, Galen was allowed to accompany the men to a local tavern, and they all shared drinks together. It was the first time the Nord had enjoyed himself in an incredibly long time.

Upon returning to the ship however, the captain took the time to inform Galen of one minor detail. "There's something you will have to know first, Nord." the captain said.

"You have my ear, captain."

"Would you like it back?" the captain chuckled, obviously still drunk. However the cold stare from Galens dark eyes stopped him immediately, and he forcibly cleared his throat. "Yes, well. We won't be going out to sea for another week. You are more than welcome to spend the nights in the crews quarters if you wish, but there will not be any real action for some time." he completed.

To this Galen grumbled. This is somewhat of a setback. he thought to himself. But he did not have any choice but to agree. He spent the next week surviving off money earned through doing odd jobs for folk living in the waterfront district, and in the process made several more friends in addition to Isleif and the group of beggars. The Nord lay in his bunk each night, tired yet satisfied. Finally some progress. The week seemed to pass by in a matter of hours. But throughout the time spent, the Argonian never seemed to pay too much attention to the Nord. It seemed as if he was trying to get away with speaking to him as little as possible. I wonder what his problem is.

***
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Nymph
 
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