[Skill Book Series] The Voice of Strength (working title)
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2018 3:34 pm
NOTE: Vol. 1 is for Sneak, Vol. 2 is for Speechcraft, Vol. 3 is for Unarmored
The Voice of Strength Volume 1
by Bjald Soft-Fingers
Within Markarth Side, the great Hold Capital of The Reach stood the College of the Voice. Imposing as the statue before it, the College looms above the the manors and peasants alike. It is here that our story begins.
One fateful night, when the cold rain swept across the Karth River, greeting the habor with a dark, sinister embrace. A new student of the College, Sorethus Clavion, quickly rushes out into the storm with nothing but his clothes, a little over 200 gold pieces, a worn, cheap dagger in hand, and enough food and drink for a 3 days journey. He passed manors whose owners had spent the past week fortifying their homes for the storm, guards huddled beneath the stone overhangs of the city entrance in a failed attempt to escape the wind-swept rain while on duty, and soaked beggars wrapped in all manner of rags and torn book pages. As Sorethus past the the city gates, one of the guards asked in a weak, stuttered voice "Where are you going in this weather?" of which Sorethus replied in a whisper; "Home."
As the storm raged and terrifying lights darted across the weeping sky, Sorethus took refuge in a cave just south of the city. "I should've been able to make it farther..." he muttered to himself. He began planning "When the rain lets up, then I'll be off to Lainalten, there I can just take a carriage to Falcrenth and then again to Bruma, then I can just follow along the roads and reach Dethagrad in no time." It wasn't a great plan, if he had more time he could have saved more septims, sharpened his dagger, maybe bought a scroll or two. It didn't matter now, he needed to get out of there, despite him explaining he didn't want to go to Skyrim, to learn the way of the voice, his father still insisted. "You are Colovian, the Thu'um is in your blood. If you wish to inherit my fortune you will stay in Skyrim and learn the ways of your forefathers, or else don't come back at all." his father's voice still echoed in his head. "Just as warm as ever..." he muttered before losing consciousness within the ambiance of the growling thunder in the background.
He awoke the next morning, stepping outside the cavern entrance to meet the sun as it shined over the partly frosted mud and damp foliage. One great thing he could say about this wretched place, he thought, was the beautiful scenery. After taking in the sights and eating a light breakfast, he began walking down the road to Lainalten, where he continued for the next several days.
"It must've been at least 4 days by now and nothing. No caravaners, none of those damned Reachmen, no patroling guards, no one." he thought. "I'd even take a Hagraven at this p-" he stopped, being interupted by the vision of a farmstead in the distance. Running up to the front door tired, hungry, and yearning for human interaction, he opened the door with the nagging voice of his father's lessons on edicate only coming into his head after the fact. "Hello!? Is there anybody there? I'm in need of shelter and assistance!" he called in excitement and desperation. No one would answer. After a few minutes he decided that this farm was most likely abandoned. He immidiately locked found the kitchen, practically leaping over the dusty furniture to get to it, and in no more than an hour he was full. Swallowing portions the size of a Wormmouth. He found a warm, comfy bed upstairs where he rested his eyes for a moment, before once again drifting off into a deep slumber.
He woke up with frosted chains wrapped around his neck within what appeared to be a dark chasm. There stood a sillhoutte of a young woman glaring at him in the corner, growling at him as he attempted to plead for his freedom. "Where am I? Who are you? What is this place? Please just let me go, please!" he cried, fearing the end is nigh. The woman stepped out of the shadows, revealing her gnarled features and feathered arms. "My name is Klirvizantha, and you are my new pet."
"You... You're a Hagraven!" Sorethus exclaimed nervously.
"Yes I am, dear pet. And you're absolutely beautiful! Your face, it's so... delicious." Klirvizantha whispered while stroking his jaw with her mangled talon-hands.
She twirls her wrist toward the wall, unhinging the chains as they float into her claws. "You shall come with me, pet. We have much work to do." She yanks the chains towards the cavern tunnel pulling Sorethus toward her. She turns toward him dangling his coin purse in front of his face "This is a most helpful gift of you, pet." before leaving the Hagraven's lair.
It felt like weeks, with chain in hand, Klirvizantha lead Sorethus around like a dog on a leash. Traveling from cave to cave, lair to lair, seeing first hand the horrors her and her cohorts enacted in their respective dank depths. Being lead deep into the arctic wastes of Skyrim, he kept hearing speak of a gathering. "The grand channeling", "the gathering of ravens", "the council of crows", none of it registered in Sorethus's mind, it can't possibly be worse than what he's witnessed the vile bird-witch has done so far. No matter what this ceremony would be, he knew he must escape.
The ceremony was two weeks away, and Klirvizantha had decided to rest in an old abandoned mine. This was his chance. He snuck into her makeshift chambers, picking up his chains as to not make a sound. The key was around her neck on a thick, knotted string, fashioned from what appears to be a griffon talon. "Fitting." he thought. The trick, he thought, was to untie the string and move the key out of the the string instead of the other way around, open the lock with chains in hand, then slowly place the chains on the ground and leave. "Simple, quick, and effective." He placed the chains on the cart she had been using as a table, and began untying the knot that had been revealed when she rolled over in her sleep. This wasn't anymore difficult than picking the locked door of his father's study to get to his liquor cabinet, where he kept his stash of kurst. It was as simple as one, two, three. Once the string had been untied, he made sure to keep hold of the top string as to not have it fall onto her face. Sorethus reached over to grab the key, but stopped as Klirvizantha groaned in her sleep. Gently, he slipped the key off the string and placed the string delicately on the bed near her. He was halfway there, only one last detail left before his freedom was assured. He quietly wrestled the lock around his throat loose, being sure to not let them hit the ground. As he turned to place them on the cart, he accidentally bumped into the chains there, causing them to fall with a loud clank at the side of her bed. Klirvizantha woke up.
"What are you doing, my favorite pet? Seeking some companionship?" Klirvizantha asked half asleep.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sorethus answered nervously.
"It's okay, pet. I'll never leave your side. Now get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us. We need to bring those Giant horns to Haganthezick, and the Giants won't be thrill of the acquisition..." she said while snuggling her veined feathers back under the sheets.
Sorethus slowly backed out of her chambers and quickly headed out of the mine into the dead of night. He was alone again, wandering the frozen landscape. Unsure of what awaits him on his journey back to Colovia.
The Voice of Strength Volume 1
by Bjald Soft-Fingers
Within Markarth Side, the great Hold Capital of The Reach stood the College of the Voice. Imposing as the statue before it, the College looms above the the manors and peasants alike. It is here that our story begins.
One fateful night, when the cold rain swept across the Karth River, greeting the habor with a dark, sinister embrace. A new student of the College, Sorethus Clavion, quickly rushes out into the storm with nothing but his clothes, a little over 200 gold pieces, a worn, cheap dagger in hand, and enough food and drink for a 3 days journey. He passed manors whose owners had spent the past week fortifying their homes for the storm, guards huddled beneath the stone overhangs of the city entrance in a failed attempt to escape the wind-swept rain while on duty, and soaked beggars wrapped in all manner of rags and torn book pages. As Sorethus past the the city gates, one of the guards asked in a weak, stuttered voice "Where are you going in this weather?" of which Sorethus replied in a whisper; "Home."
As the storm raged and terrifying lights darted across the weeping sky, Sorethus took refuge in a cave just south of the city. "I should've been able to make it farther..." he muttered to himself. He began planning "When the rain lets up, then I'll be off to Lainalten, there I can just take a carriage to Falcrenth and then again to Bruma, then I can just follow along the roads and reach Dethagrad in no time." It wasn't a great plan, if he had more time he could have saved more septims, sharpened his dagger, maybe bought a scroll or two. It didn't matter now, he needed to get out of there, despite him explaining he didn't want to go to Skyrim, to learn the way of the voice, his father still insisted. "You are Colovian, the Thu'um is in your blood. If you wish to inherit my fortune you will stay in Skyrim and learn the ways of your forefathers, or else don't come back at all." his father's voice still echoed in his head. "Just as warm as ever..." he muttered before losing consciousness within the ambiance of the growling thunder in the background.
He awoke the next morning, stepping outside the cavern entrance to meet the sun as it shined over the partly frosted mud and damp foliage. One great thing he could say about this wretched place, he thought, was the beautiful scenery. After taking in the sights and eating a light breakfast, he began walking down the road to Lainalten, where he continued for the next several days.
"It must've been at least 4 days by now and nothing. No caravaners, none of those damned Reachmen, no patroling guards, no one." he thought. "I'd even take a Hagraven at this p-" he stopped, being interupted by the vision of a farmstead in the distance. Running up to the front door tired, hungry, and yearning for human interaction, he opened the door with the nagging voice of his father's lessons on edicate only coming into his head after the fact. "Hello!? Is there anybody there? I'm in need of shelter and assistance!" he called in excitement and desperation. No one would answer. After a few minutes he decided that this farm was most likely abandoned. He immidiately locked found the kitchen, practically leaping over the dusty furniture to get to it, and in no more than an hour he was full. Swallowing portions the size of a Wormmouth. He found a warm, comfy bed upstairs where he rested his eyes for a moment, before once again drifting off into a deep slumber.
He woke up with frosted chains wrapped around his neck within what appeared to be a dark chasm. There stood a sillhoutte of a young woman glaring at him in the corner, growling at him as he attempted to plead for his freedom. "Where am I? Who are you? What is this place? Please just let me go, please!" he cried, fearing the end is nigh. The woman stepped out of the shadows, revealing her gnarled features and feathered arms. "My name is Klirvizantha, and you are my new pet."
"You... You're a Hagraven!" Sorethus exclaimed nervously.
"Yes I am, dear pet. And you're absolutely beautiful! Your face, it's so... delicious." Klirvizantha whispered while stroking his jaw with her mangled talon-hands.
She twirls her wrist toward the wall, unhinging the chains as they float into her claws. "You shall come with me, pet. We have much work to do." She yanks the chains towards the cavern tunnel pulling Sorethus toward her. She turns toward him dangling his coin purse in front of his face "This is a most helpful gift of you, pet." before leaving the Hagraven's lair.
It felt like weeks, with chain in hand, Klirvizantha lead Sorethus around like a dog on a leash. Traveling from cave to cave, lair to lair, seeing first hand the horrors her and her cohorts enacted in their respective dank depths. Being lead deep into the arctic wastes of Skyrim, he kept hearing speak of a gathering. "The grand channeling", "the gathering of ravens", "the council of crows", none of it registered in Sorethus's mind, it can't possibly be worse than what he's witnessed the vile bird-witch has done so far. No matter what this ceremony would be, he knew he must escape.
The ceremony was two weeks away, and Klirvizantha had decided to rest in an old abandoned mine. This was his chance. He snuck into her makeshift chambers, picking up his chains as to not make a sound. The key was around her neck on a thick, knotted string, fashioned from what appears to be a griffon talon. "Fitting." he thought. The trick, he thought, was to untie the string and move the key out of the the string instead of the other way around, open the lock with chains in hand, then slowly place the chains on the ground and leave. "Simple, quick, and effective." He placed the chains on the cart she had been using as a table, and began untying the knot that had been revealed when she rolled over in her sleep. This wasn't anymore difficult than picking the locked door of his father's study to get to his liquor cabinet, where he kept his stash of kurst. It was as simple as one, two, three. Once the string had been untied, he made sure to keep hold of the top string as to not have it fall onto her face. Sorethus reached over to grab the key, but stopped as Klirvizantha groaned in her sleep. Gently, he slipped the key off the string and placed the string delicately on the bed near her. He was halfway there, only one last detail left before his freedom was assured. He quietly wrestled the lock around his throat loose, being sure to not let them hit the ground. As he turned to place them on the cart, he accidentally bumped into the chains there, causing them to fall with a loud clank at the side of her bed. Klirvizantha woke up.
"What are you doing, my favorite pet? Seeking some companionship?" Klirvizantha asked half asleep.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sorethus answered nervously.
"It's okay, pet. I'll never leave your side. Now get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us. We need to bring those Giant horns to Haganthezick, and the Giants won't be thrill of the acquisition..." she said while snuggling her veined feathers back under the sheets.
Sorethus slowly backed out of her chambers and quickly headed out of the mine into the dead of night. He was alone again, wandering the frozen landscape. Unsure of what awaits him on his journey back to Colovia.