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 Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 5:49 pm
Alistair traipsed the bank of the stream, doing his best to keep from Gabrielle's location. Once he was a distance away he pulled out four wineskins and three large canteens and filled them to their limit, adding a drop of his blood that would decay any parasites or harmful things in the water, he might not need clean water but he knew that his companions, save possibly for Gabrielle, it was hard to track how far her change was, she wasn't photosensitive yet but if that moment came he had a day cloak and cowl for her.
Finishing all the water gathering Alistair headed back for their camp.
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Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 5:54 pm
Raigon returned with a stack of wood that was taller than he was and set it down and went to go get water to be able to cook with he got it keeping away from Gabrielle because he could sense that she was bathing so he filled a huge pot that he kept handy while traveling with water and headed back to the camp and made a huge fire. Raigon then went to rain and dressed the game and cut off the meat off of the bone making it so that he could cook it well.Raigon grabed the herbs from his trech and continued to ground them in a pedastool till they were as paste and started to apply it on the meats while doing that he added a type of herb that would preserve the meat making this meal as best he could he knew that his compainion would be wanting more after they tasted what this tasted like.
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Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 6:24 pm
The Holy Knight went back to the camp to find an enormous pile of wood. "You are a strange one for sure Lord Raigon." she wondered where Alistair was.
She sat next to the fire. "If someone wants to enjoy a bath... I'll prepare the food. Rain?!" she shouted so that he brought the meat.
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Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 6:50 pm
"c...coming Miss Gabreille!!" Rain hurryed and brought the big wild boar to Gabrielle as fast as he could. When he got to the cave, he set the Boar right next to her which made a small thud. "whew!"
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 1:30 pm
Alistair walked back into the camp they'd set up with all of the water "If you need it for cooking, use the large canteens, the wineskins are for us to carry." He had etched Karma, Raigon, Rain and Gabrielle into the side of each of the four skins, that way if need be they could use their own and fill it with what they pleased.
Alistair then walked and sat in the shade until he was needed, mindlessly flipping pages in a book he'd long past memorized.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 1:39 pm
Gabrielle looked at the meat. A nice piece indeed! "I would not mind preparing a soup if someone would want to skin this monster." she teased. "Thank you for the water, Lord Alistair." She noticed his book. She had not read or touch a book for so long. "What are you reading? If I may ask..." she softly spoke to the vampire.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 1:54 pm
Alistair looked up at Gabrielle and out of habit at the worn cover of his book It is titled Fall of the Snow Prince by Lokheim, It is an account of an ancient battle from another land called Cyrodiil." He said, glad to be discussing literature with someone other than his subconscious.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:12 pm
Forgetting the soup for a moment, she needed someone to prepare the meat anyway, she headed towards the vampire. "Another land...?" she whispered. She crouched next to him. "Would you mind reading me the first lines...?" she asked. She loved stories when she was young. Even the bible was inspiring her, she was imagining, seeing in her head the actions, the words becoming images... But that was a long time ago...and yet...she wanted to know more about this story.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:24 pm
Alistair smiled a large smile It would be my pleasure. He said flipping back to the first page, he cleared his throat and began "From whence he came we did not know, but into the battle he rode, on a brilliant steed of pallid white. Elf we called him, for Elf he was, yet unlike any other of his kind we had ever seen before that day. His spear and armor bore the radiant and terrible glow of unknown magicka, and so adorned this unknown rider seemed more wight than warrior." He finished the smile still stuck to his face That was the introduction, would you like me to read on? He asked wondering if the book had grasped her attention
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:45 pm
Rai nthen gathered some fire wood and set it in the middle of the cave making a pile. Then Rain breath in and blew fire on the pile of wood making a campfire so that Gabrielle can make soup. But Rain just sticked a massive peice of meat on a stick and blew fire on that cooking the meat so he could eat it/
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:47 pm
Gabrielle was suspended to his lips. The words passing his lips were already creating images. An elf...beautiful and fierce...his armor powerful and bright... Her amber eyes were staring at Alistair and trough Alistair... she simply nodded at him. Yes she wanted his voice to flow again. To lead her to this new land...
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:54 pm
Alistair flipped the page and began reading from the page after the introduction "What troubled, nay, frightened us most at that moment was the call that rose from the Elven ranks. It was not fear, not wonder, but an unabashed and unbridled joy, the kind of felicity felt by a damned man who has been granted a second chance at life. For at that time the Elves were as damned and near death as ever they had been during the great skirmishes of Solstheim. The Battle of the Moesring was to be the final stand between Nord and Elf on our fair island. Led by Ysgramor, we had driven the Elven scourge from Skyrim, and were intent on cleansing Solstheim of their kind as well. Our warriors, armed with the finest axes and swords Nord craftsmen could forge, cut great swaths through the enemy ranks. The slopes of the Moesring ran red with Elf blood. Why, then, would our foe rejoice? Could one rider bring such hope to an army so hopeless?
To most of our kind, the meaning of the call was clear, but the words were but a litany of Elven chants and cries. There were some among us, however, the scholars and chroniclers, who knew well the words and shuddered at their significance.
"The Snow Prince is come! Doom is at hand!"
There was then a great calm that overcame the Elves that still stood. Through their mass the Snow Prince did ride, and as a longboat slices the icy waters of the Fjalding he parted the ranks of his kin. The magnificent white horse slowed to a gallop, then a trot, and the unknown Elf rider moved to the front of the line at a slow, almost ghostlike pace.
A Nord warrior sees much in a life of bloodshed and battle, and is rarely surprised by anything armed combat may bring. But few among us that day could have imagined the awe and uncertainty of a raging battlefield that all at once went motionless and silent. Such is the effect the Snow Prince had on us all. For when the joyous cries of the Elves had ended, there remained a quiet known only in the solitude of slumber. It was then our combined host, Elf and Nord alike, were joined in a terrible understanding -- victory or defeat mattered little that day on the slopes of the Moesring Mountains. The one truth we all shared was that death would come to many that day, victor and vanquished alike. The glorious Snow Prince, an Elf unlike any other, did come that day to bring death to our kind. And death he so brought.
Like a sudden, violent snow squall that rends travelers blind and threatens to tear loose the very foundations of the sturdiest hall, the Snow Prince did sweep into our numbers. Indeed the ice and snow did begin to swirl and churn about the Elf, as if called upon to serve his bidding. The spinning of that gleaming spear whistled a dirge to all those who would stand in the way of the Snow Prince, and our mightiest fell before him that day. Ulfgi Anvil-Hand, Strom the White, Freida Oaken-Wand, Heimdall the Frenzied. All lay dead at the foot of the Moesring Mountains.
For the first time that day it seemed the tide of battle had actually turned. The Elves, spurred on by the deeds of the Snow Prince, rallied together for one last charge against our ranks. It was then, in a single instant, that the Battle of the Moesring came to a sudden and unexpected end.
Finna, daughter of Jofrior, a lass of only twelve years and squire to her mother, watched as the Snow Prince cut down her only parent. In her rage and sorrow, Finna picked up Jofrior's sword and threw it savagely at her mother's killer. When the Elf's gleaming spear stopped its deadly dance, the battlefield fell silent, and all eyes turned to the Snow Prince. No one that day was more surprised than the Elf himself at the sight that greeted them all. For upon his great steed the Snow Prince still sat, the sword of Jofrior buried deeply in his breast. And then, he fell, from his horse, from the battle, from life. The Snow Prince lay dead, slain by a child.
With their savior defeated, the spirit of the remaining Elven warriors soon shattered. Many fled, and those that remained on the battlefield were soon cut down by our broad Nord axes. When the day was done, all that remained was the carnage of the battlefield. And from that battlefield came a dim reminder of valor and skill, for the brilliant armor and spear of the Snow Prince still shined. Even in death, this mighty and unknown Elf filled us with awe.
It is common practice to burn the corpses of our fallen foes. This is as much a necessity as it is custom, for death brings with it disease and dread. Our chieftains wished to cleanse Solstheim of the Elven horde, in death as well as life. It was decided, however, that such was not to be the fate of the Snow Prince. One so mighty in war yet so loved by his kin deserved better. Even in death, even if an enemy of our people.
And so we brought the body of the Snow Prince, wrapped in fine silks, to a freshly dug barrow. The gleaming armor and spear were presented on a pedestal of honor, and the tomb was arrayed with treasures worthy of royalty. All of the mighty chieftains agreed with this course, that the Elf should be so honored. His body would be preserved in the barrow for as long as the earth chose, but would not be offered the protection of our Stalhrim, which was reserved for Nord dead alone.
So ends this account of the Battle of the Moesring, and the fall of the magnificent Elven Snow Prince. May our gods honor him in death, and may we never meet his kind again in life." He finished the book, it being one of the shorter ones he owned. Feeling wonderous and ner enough human after such a deal, it was the first time in centuries he'd ever read a book to someone and he loved it.
((Just to let you know, that came from ESVI:Oblivion.))
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 6:46 pm
Gabrielle smelt the fire behind her but she was somewhere else, far beyond the frontier of this kingdom. She was like hypnotized by the flow running like a fresh source, quenching her thirst.
She felt the joy, the hope of the warrior and she felt the despair, the death of so many. The rage and the respect... She felt His death. The death of this unknown elf prince. This warrior like no others.
Gabrielle raised her head towards Alistair. "Who was he?" she asked her voice slightly husky. Her eyes were questioning him, she wanted to know.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 7:19 pm
Karma got up. "I'll be back... I can smell a lake with fish...and if I'm correct....thiers some lobster over there too."She said then ran to get the food. She soon returned with a huge bag full of food....enough to last the trip to the azure forest. "talk about lucky....these things were everywhere!" She exclaimed happily then looked at rain. "Rain...." She said in a sweet inoscent tone of voice. Much like a childs. "Don't suppose you can set another fire so I can cook this?" She asked curiously.
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Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2008 1:27 pm
Alistair smiled at her almost childlike awe over the Prince "He was an amazing man, best warrior to the elven kin, some suspected him to be a weather wizard, and that is why the snow seemed to flow around him. Others say he was such a magnificent being that even nature itself respected him and used snow, one of it's more beautiful elements to show that respect. I was witness to one of his battles, amazing spear work, the prowess he showed for that weapon was like no other." Alistair said, still seeing that day vividly in his mind The Snow Prince was a frightful beauty to be seen on the battle field, even more so awe inspiring when he just did demonstrations, then he could do things with out being wary of attack, I once saw him cut down 18 barrels near simoutaneously. I am relieved he died in battle, it is how he would have wanted it. Alistair finished, wishing he could see a sight such as that man again.
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