Tag Archives: Iona

Book Two, Chapter Twenty-Six: Everybody’s Waiting for a Fall

This chapter picks up from here.

Trygve was only too happy to be back in the Rift. One night in Ivarstead with Gwilin, a chipper and garrulous Bosmer with whom Trygve maintained occasional intimate contact, changed his calmly stoic (some would say smug) demeanor into outright, albeit subdued, delight. Also, the tables were turning on the events that happened in the Pale and Elspeth could no longer hold the disintegration of her relationship against him. Continue reading


Book Two, Chapter Twenty-Two: What Happens in Riften, Stays in Riften

You know you can’t keep lettin’ it get you down
And you can’t keep draggin’ that dead weight around.
If there ain’t all that much to lug around,
Better run like hell when you hit the ground.
~Ok Go, “This too Shall Pass”

“If my Lydia would promise to let J’zargo take her to Senchal someday, it would be most pleasing to J’zargo, yes?”

“Yes, I’m sure Elswyer would welcome me with open arms.”

“But Nords are exotic, after my Lydia spreads a some coin around and shows a little skin—“

“Oh…just a little skin?”

“As much as you wish.” J’zargo grinned, thinking back to the warm sands of his homeland, as he and Lydia finished setting up camp for the evening. Continue reading

Book Two Chapter Four: In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

“Shameful!  If any of you were in Skyrim you would be lucky if they called you milk-drinker.  Now plank!”

Oh, Xeri how I’ve missed you.  When they approached the northern end of Bruma, Nerussa couldn’t help but grin at that familiar—yet dreadful—militant voice.  As they rode into view, Iona flinched at the sight of ten young Nords clad in little more than tattered rags holding themselves in plank positions, their muscles quivering as their bleeding knuckles pressed into the frozen rocky ground. Continue reading

Chapter Thirty-Five: Did it take long to find me?

Apart from her head and neck, Elspeth had no feeling in her body as she awoke.  Staring up, she saw Lydia and an Altmer woman looking back down at her and felt Lydia’s warm hand on her forehead, which settled only a tiny bit of the panic in her head.

“We found her,” Lydia whispered as she brought her head level with Elspeth’s on the pillow.  “This is Nerussa.”

Nerussa didn’t look like many elves Elspeth knew.  While her almond shaped amber eyes and pointed ears were unmistakably Altmer, her golden skin had pink undertones and her silver blonde hair was swept up in a style reminiscent of Cyrodill nobility, rather than high elf.  She was watching Elspeth with a look of awe and affection that she found unsettling, but that was the least of her concerns.  “I can’t feel my body,” she said, her voice was raw and panicked. Continue reading