» Sat Aug 28, 2010 2:33 pm I am new in this forum and this is my first post. I'm an Elder Scrolls fan since Morrowind, have been playing the saga for nearly eight years now. I just wanted to share the beginning of a story I have been writing that takes place in Vvanderfell, many years before the Neverarine. It is quite special for me since the protagonist, Rold'an, is the character with whom I have been playing with both in Morrowind and Oblivion. Right now I am working on a mod for Oblivion with Albo, who is in this forum also. This is part of the background story, together with the one of Doljak Fernis (Albo's creation) and some others yet to come. It's the first "volume", I hope you enjoy it and comment!
Thank you very much for your time!
Liam
The Tale of Rold'an, The Purger v.1
Many years before the arrival of an outlander who was going to change the destiny of Vvanderfell, the island was experimenting a dangerous rise in the population of vampires. Both the Temple and the Imperial Legion were concerned about this thread but had failed to take the rights actions to stop it. In those days, a hero's tale was about to begin. Unlike the Neverarine, he was not the one to free the inhabitans of Vvanderfell from Dagoth Ur, nor was his destiny to be remembered generation after generation. His aim was to defend the defenseless, to stop a wave of devastation that was about to spread all over the Ashlands and beyond. Most of the victims were poor men and slaves. Slaves, like he once had been. This is the tale of Rold'an, the Argonian. A tale that was buried by the political intrigues of that time.
He was born as a slave and traded with being still very young. The young argonian spent many years working for different landlords and bandits until one day, slaved in a mine near the ashlands, he and his companions were attacked by a group of vampires, some minutes after midnight. Most were killed even before they could wake up and defend themselves, but many others, mostly slaves, were kept alive and forced to follow.
They brought them their lost lair, far from civiization. In those dark caves deep within the ashlands began the darkest days of Rold'ans existence. Slaves were still forced to work, although in different tasks, but not only that: vampires used them to feed themselves, drinking only enough blood not to kill them. Like sheep. They lived to the limit, in the thin line between life and death. And, of course, in complete darkness.
One day, maybe by chance or by divine will, his luck began to change. Night had arrived, although none of the slaves truly knew what time it was or if the sun was shining outside. Rold'an layed down to rest, his whole body aching and his brain weakened by the torture he was enduring every single day. After falling into a slumber full of nightmares he was woken up by an unknown voice. A female voice. Not one of his race though, the lady seemed a Breton.
Dazed and confused, Rold'an had not the slightest idea of what to do or say. There was no time to waste, the lady was brief, "I have come to help."
The Argonian nodded and stood up trying to make no sound, for he knew that there were still vampires inside the cave. She had probably decided to come at night, when most vampires were out, but Rold'an knew very well that some centinels were always watching for intruders. "Where are the others?", she asked, whispering. "Dead.", was the answer. "All of them. Men, Khajhit, Elves and other Argonians like me. You are lucky, this place is nearly empty. Since the massive hunt has began, many of those demons will be sleeping out tonight, until they find a new, decent herd to feed them." The demoiselle's face seemed chagrined as she said, "Let us move on. We must get out of here as soon as possible. Take this. You'll need it."
Knowing not how, Rold'an had just been rescued by a beautiful lady he had never seen before and was walking by her side in complete darkness, wielding the naked blade of the Silver Longsword the lady had given him. Of course, she must have stolen the keys from somewhere to open the door of his cell and unlock his slave bracers. But she didn't seem to be of the sneaky sort. Magic, he thought. She must have used a very powerful spell of unlocking. "Let me lead the way, I know this cave well enough to walk blindly. I may be weakened but I am sadly used to every little corner of this damn hole" , he said. She nodded. The way he spoke seemed to her very unusual for a slave, but she wondered no longer about it, for the situation was not one of calm reflexion.
A torch would be a fatal mistake, they both knew. Half naked as he was, Rold'an felt a soft breeze entering the cave. In the Ashlands, it could only mean one thing, and that thing was about to make eveything much more difficult. Wind there, in the depth, had a clear explanation: there was a sandstorm outside.
"My lady, we have a problem."
"What is it?"
"A Sandstorm."
"How do you know?"
"Trust me. I know. I can feel it."
A Sandstorm with daylight was standable, but at night it was suicidal: it made orientation impossible. In those conditions, they would get lost in minutes. Right now, they were trapped, and that both knew; there was no need for a vain exchange of words. They had to figure out something, and quickly. Maybe in another situation, Rold'an could have had an ocurrence worthy of trying, but in his state he had difficulties to get the most simple thoughts in the right order.
Suddenly, the Argonian felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and the soft voice of the Breton muttering some words in an unknown language. In a matter of seconds they were surrounded by a strong light and disappeared, leaving darkness behind them.
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"...and that is why I had to leave the Guar and all the travelling items it carried behind. The risk of being spotted was too high and we wouldnt want them to find out what was going on, specially if we intend to strike back. He who is standing next to me was the only survivor I found, and I must say he should have been dead. There is no possible way to explain why he is still alive: maybe they decided to let him live for a bit longer, maybe his endurance was higher than the one of the rest. In any case, we must act quickly, for vampirism is spreading in Vvanderfell and the only way to stop is a strong and united reaction. The situation is critical and the Mages Guild must not remain indifferent."
Rold'an was surprised to see a former member of the Mages Guild, rank mage, like Julienne was, speaking with such confidence and conviction. He smiled as he remembered, sitting in the mages guild's council room, the moment both the Breton lady and the Argonian realized they had not introduced themselves. They both laughed from heart as the knew not how to adress the other. Many days had passed now, the Argonian male had rested for weeks without truly waking up during weeks after being rescued. As soon as he recovered conscience, Julienne had politely informed him about all the happenings since the teleportation. And now there she was, holding that remarkable speech in front of the council of elders. He realized, though, that some of the faces in the council expressed a certain despise for her, understanding her attitude as arrogance, which it was not. She was solely speaking clearly and directly, something that the burocrats of Vivec couldnt possibly understand.
When she finished, she walked over to her seat. Only now could the lizard admire her beauty, her pale skin and light blue eyes. It is true that they belonged to different races, but there are certain patrons of beauty that are universal. Her figure was hidden underneath the robe she carried, so the only parts of her body one could truly appreciate were her hands and her face, both exquisite. She finally sat down next to Rold'an, who was the guest of honour at this council's session along with Julienne herself.
"Remarkable."
"Thank you, Argonian."
The Council started to discuss the way to proceed in the future. Many were the points of view and the discussion became heated for some moments. In his new, comfortable clothes, like the ones he had not worn in years, Rold'an gazed at the elders, tired of their rhetoric and political intrigues. His boredom soon became fury as he realized the direction the session was taking, which was the opposite of what Julienne had just proposed. What was it supposed to mean that they "had to examine this situation more carefully" and "inform our companions of Vvanderfell and ask the other provinces for advice"? What sort of decission was that when there were people being killed, many slaves like Rold'an had once been (and he still couldn't face he was finally free) and many who were not. Those demonic bloodsvckers were terrorizing innocent people and those old bastards were not going to lift a finger to aid them.
From where he sat, the Argonian could see the Arch-mage's face and some of others next to him, his closest allies in the discussion. It was clear that the old Altmer favoured a position that can be defined as "passive", if we do not use the voacabulary with which Rold'an would have described it. The round table was surrounded by powerful mages, and its ebony serenity was a sad contrast to the noise the voices spread all over the room.
Unnoticed by most of the mages, Rold'an stood up, slowly. Julienne looked at him surprised, and once again she wondered about those words she had heard him speak in the cave. Who was he? And what was he hiding? Did he even know the impression he had caused on her? She noticed, for the first time, the beautiful horns that crowned his head, curved and noble. His cold eyes showed no hesitation as he slowly walked towards the central table.
A club flew through the room and smashed the window right above the Arch-Mage's seat. The explosion of glass echoed throughout the hearts of all men and women present and a tense silence took over the place. All eyes were looking at one person, a lizard actually, knowing not what to expect. The very moment one of the mages was about to call the guards, the characteristic tune of an argonian voice began to sound. Julienne was confused with Rold'an's behaviour but also deeply interested, and paid close attention at the words of his companion.
"You are all the same. Like the landlords I have lived with, like any of those s'wit who kept us trapped and forced us to work. It is too risky to save lives, isn't it? I wonder what your decission might have been if one of the guild members had been kidnapped, or if a rich noble was being slaved. But vampires won't do that, they will take advantage of the poor, of the defenseless, of the vulnerable. I bet the Temple doesn't want to risk too much for a bunch of slaves either; why, they are "outlanders" after all. They are not true citizens of Vvanderfell. Well, I tell you all: I am going to go back to that cave and clear that place of vampires. I will purge it and free anyone I find there, may he be slave or a free man, outlander or born in Vvanderfell, rich or poor. If you want to participate I will accept any help you can offer, if not I'll be on my way alone."
And with those final words he turned round and walked towards the exit. Julienne's eyes followed him and recognized anger in his face?s expression. Rude or not, for it had not been a conventional intervention, his intentions were the best in the world; she knew how he felt and that he only wished to help others, so they wouldn't live the nightmare he had been forced to go through. But for the council, alas! The words of the guest had been an attack to the integrity of the Guild and showed not the slightest respect for the elder. Julienne would be lucky if she managed to keep them from calling the guards and reporting his crime. She had to try her best, though. As soon as the door closed behind the Argonian, the lady stood up and walked towards the council's table.
Not only was she unable to keep the Mages Guild from reporting Rold'an as an outlaw, but received also other words that she had truly not expected. The Arch-Mage's voice sounded confident and serene as he spoke, "Next time, Mage, do not take unnecessary risks, for it was not your mission to find and rescue anyone else but Salomon. Finding him dead, you should have returned at once. By not doing so, you ended up losing a Guar and everything he carried and brought a mad outlaw to Vivec." She found his last point exagerated, blaming her for bringing a tortured soul back alive. She assumed the responsabilty for the guar's loss, but she was not going to remain silent about the other issue. Her lips started to open when the Arch-Mage dismissed her, "Go now. We have much to discuss and your presence is not needed."
She stormed outside, swallowing the many words she wanted to shout at the old and arrogant High Elf. She had only one aim now: finding Rold'an, the outlaw.
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