» Thu May 03, 2012 1:17 am
Hrefn the Raven, The Waters of Oblivion, Outside of Time
How do I get myself into things like this? Thought the raven, shaking his tiny head as he glided through the unreal mists of Oblivion. He had been on the wing all day now, flown far, far from the realm of Skyrim. I only do this because my mistress loves me, and I love her he told himself firmly, glancing into the impenetrable, devilish fog that surrounded him. The other birds laugh, they chirp and peck at me, call me a pervert, a sicko, but what do they know about love? They can peck for their own worms. None of them know how Fiona makes me feel. This reassured the bird and eased his mind. This place was really starting to creep him out. Hrefn peered foward and saw a shape starting to emerge from the aether. Evergloam is a horrible place, decided the raven, when a flash of lightning made him flap his wings in suprise. All of a sudden he had reached his destination, the misty island on the silver sea, and, suddendly exausted, landed on the ground and began to look about. In the unnatural gloom, even Hrefn's keen eyes could make out almost nothing, the visibility was so poor flying would be dangerous. The raven knew of many birds who had tried to fly through Skyrim in weather like this, and ended up splattered on the side of the Throat of the World. Not Hrefn!
It was then that he saw them. The eyes. Cats eyes. Hundreds and hundreds, all glaring at him in the dark. Hrefn cawed in horror, and flapped his wings to escape, but it was too late. Hissing and mewing they jumped on him. Fur and claw was all he could see, a thousand cats tumbling and scramling in defeaning screeches, like a wall of death inclosing in on Hrefn!
Lightning struck again, and the quivering bird was all alone again. He peeked out from under his wing and saw it was now day, a pleasant day no less, the sun was shining and he stood in a woodland in the grip of spring. Hrefn could hear them, the bugs and creepy-crawlies, little meals walking around on the ground. The woodlands was a living feast! And there, below him, twisted a juicey worm, full and delicious-looking. Hrefn wasn't want to miss a free meal, and pecked at it in delight. To his disapointment it was too rubbery to break in his beak. He squeezed, and squeezed, but with mounting horror the raven found the worm was unkillable. It rolled around in his beak, and seemed to look at him mockingly. Hrefn looked down and saw there were more huge worms like this one there, crawling around his talons, poking out of the ground. They wrapped around his boney legs and pulled, tugging him down into the dirt with impossible strength. Hfefn let go of the worm and tried to caw for help, but it had wrapped around his beak. More and more worms, so strong, so tough, tugging him down, pulling him into the dirt that gave away, where he would be devoured for all his sins-
Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, and Hrefn was in a nest. He chirped in suprise, and found his call suprisingly high pitched. He looked at his wings and they were stubby, small and fluffy. He was a chick! Around him were his brothers and sisters, chirping and flopping about, and in the centre of the huge nest, his mother, going from chick to chick, vomiting up a full meal. Hrefn opened his beak and scrambled up, jumping and flapping his tiny wings, but tripped and fell, fell from the edge of the nest, down, down down, falling. In horror he flapped his stubby wings, but he couldn't get them to fly, he was falling, he was going to die! His mother looked down at him from the edge of the nest, but this time she wouldn't swoop down to save him. She looked at him in cold disapointment as he chirped helplessly, falling, falling-
At that moment a giant Nightingale picked him up from the air, saving poor Hrefn at the terminal second and swooped him up and away to safety. Hrefn scrambled in the bigger birds talons, but couldn't see his face. He was whisked away up onto a large, formally aranged nest on a rocky outcrop, and was set down on the twigs. The baby Hrefn rolled about on the floor and got to his tiny feet, looking up at the over-sized Nightingale, a shivering mess.
"Myninn Slightly-Yellow-Turd!" chirped Hrefn, impressed and a little amazed. That was the name of this famous bird that had saved him, a name tweeted all across Tamriel and beyond. Hrefn had forgotten how supernaturally large the old Nightingale was, and at his present size, Myninn was like a hawk towering above him. The Nightingale looked at quivering Hrefn in some disapointment, and sang to him, in tones soronious and equisite:
"What do you think you are doing here, little hatchling?" Myninn's voice humbled little Hrefn.
"I, ah, c-came to speak of your Mi-Mistress, Nocturnal.." Hrefn chirped, feeling quite stupid.
"Foolish chick, this is not Evergloam. You have flown into Vaermina's Quagmire, the realm of nightmares" mocked Myninn, in a jaunty, catching song. Even as he made a fool of Hrefn, his voice was so beautiful as to make the little raven wish birds could cry.
"I-I-ah.." but the words could not find his beak,
"Fly back to mundus, to your mortal mistress. Leave this place before you are eaten for real." Hrefn looked about helpelssly, and shuffled his round, fluffy body around,
"L-l-look, my mistress wants to know, about..about-"
"-The spear? Yes, She knows." sang Myrinn, lifting one wing up and inspecting it. Hrefn looked at him amazed - does Myrinn know everything?! "Nothing gets past my Mistress. But you have made enough of a fool of yourself, little hatchling. Your meddling here will have torn open a hole to Quagmire, spewing bad dreams halfway across Skyrim. Now fly home to your wicked little woman and not to cause any more trouble." he sang sweetly, looking back at the tiny chick. Hrefn flapped his stubby wings in protest and stood up tall, sticking his tiny head out. He had remembered something, and the throught gave him some courage.
"R-r-r-rember who taught the Raccoon God n-n-not to eat Nightingale eggs, and that frogspawn was the tastiest!" Hrefn chirped, repeating the words his mistress had told him. Myrinn looked at him in disbelief, twitching his head to one side, and sang again, wearily now,
"This is why I hate Witches" began the Nightingale's song, this one of defeat, "they always stick their meaty, wormy fingers in everyone's business. Very well, I will tell you what I know. There is a bet that Clavicus the Vile has arranged between several Princes Daedric, the Lord of the Hunt amongst them. I do not know the details -before you ask my Mistress had no interest in the matter, but the bet involves that little frontier town in the Rift, where your mistress now resides." Hrefn stamped his tiny feet about on the twig-woven floor as he listened, and chirped unhappily in reply
"Wh-h-who else is in on the bet?"
"I do not know" sang back the Nightingale, "but some of my wing-brothers have mentioned The House of Troubles in their songs. If I have any advice for you and your seedy little floozey, its to leave that town as soon as you can. Its no place for a nest. When Princes of Oblivion gamble, mortals will find only peril."
"But Hircine seems to think the town will survive" said little Hrefn, indignation in his call. Myninn twisted neck around and looked at the raven strangely.
"Yes. It would appear He does." sang the Nightingale.
Valton, The Rift, Morning
Hrefn tried not to think about anything as he flew back into the mortal plane, riding the dawn. Magnus painted The Rift in precise, moodly colours this morning. Everything had a distinct black outline. He heard friends, cousins, wing-brothers and distaint aquaintances caw, sing and tweet below him and all around. But Hrefn kept his feathered head high and thought nothing of it. There was fear in his tiny heart as he glided down from the mountains and the new Hold of Valton winked into view. Something was a little more sinister in the town this morning, laying as it did on the Treva River, coated in a thin layer of frost.
