laat dovahkiin • brynhild (of helgen) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
awarriorsheart) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
farsickness2020-04-01 12:50 am
awarriorsheart) wrote in farsickness2020-04-01 12:50 am
an end to the dragon crisis
WHO: The Dragonborn and YOU
WHEN: First week of April
WHAT: arrival, settling into a new life
WHERE: Gazin, Gazin outskirts, Inn/Tavern
WARNINGS: alcohol, mentions of (healed) injuries from a dragon fight, probably curse words??
Return now to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my lord: a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need.
Nahl... DAAL VUS—
The thunderous force of Tsun's shout had been deafening; even as the Dragonborn knelt before the god of trials, the words had knocked her back and knocked her out. Her last thoughts had melded into the sensation of being swept away and yet she recalled what they entailed: she did not want to go back. She did not want to return to Skyrim, nor did she want to face Paarthurnax or any of His remaining siblings. Their world would be safe from Alduin - for now, she suspected - but all she felt as he'd faded away was horror. Dovahkiin, hin kah fen kos bonaar - your pride will be humbled, he had warned and for the first time in a long, long time, Bryn had felt just that. Yet she couldn't remain in Sovngarde - the Nordic afterlife - simply put because she it wasn't her time. She wasn't dead yet and Tsun had spoken.
When everything faded to black, so did her thoughts fade into nothingness.
act i: gazin outskirts upon arrival
Brynhild opened her eyes to the dewy orange shade of the rising sun; it painted her skin a warm shade, making her eyes glisten as she blinked, her vision still blurry. She lay on the ground, arms to each side as if she'd been, indeed, knocked back by the god's Thu'um. A tentative twitch of her fingers and then her entire hand indicated to her that she was more or less intact and despite the stiffness of her muscles, she realised that she should be able to sit up relatively well. Her injuries had not yet begun to hurt and she thanked the gods for that kindness. Between that and the morning sun warming her skin, she could almost allow herself to lie in that daze a little longer. A breeze brushed past her cheeks, carrying with it small hair-like branches...
Nature did not bloom in the Throat of the World.
As if snapped back to reality, the woman sat up, half expecting to hiss in pain - and yet the pain didn't come to her. She looked down at herself and found that the once fresh wounds from her last battle - from Alduin's claws, his roaring flames - seemed to be superficially healed. There was no bleeding, no painful welts and despite the bruising on her skin, she felt fine. A quick glance around only furthered her confusion: she was in a field, a field ripe with plants and shrubbery painted orange under the sun. Nature did not - could not - bloom in the Throat of the World: the winds were violent, the snow compact and thick and even in the warmest of days, it did not melt. The tallest mountain of Skyrim was testament to the region's fame: shrouded in snow and cold, the kind of cold only a Nord could endure for so long.
"What the..." Her voice was raspy, but it didn't fail. A further look around provided her with knowledge that her satchel, bow and quiver were sprawled just behind her and she scrambled to grab them, fastening them round her back and waist as they ought to have been in the first place. A few pats down her sides to confirm that everything was in place and she paused once more, glancing around. At a relatively small distace a pale smoke and rising constructions indicated that she was near a city, yet she couldn't quite place herself. This wasn't Whiterun. It wasn't Falkreath, or The Rift. She would know those.
As she paced, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Should anyone come across her, she would be headed toward the dirt road, away from the grassy field. Perhaps it was time to head towards that city and figure this out...
act ii: gazin three days upon arrival
Well, that had done it.
Gazin, a plate read, a city by a name Bryn had never heard or seen before. She'd quickly learned that there seemed to be no question as to who the stranger was or where she'd come from. Made sense, she considered: the city was bustling with life and movement and a new face would be just one more, though none of it answered where exactly this was. That Tsun hadn't accidentally sent her to another province she had come to understand. This was a world beyond Nirn altogether, but that answered very little.
With a sigh she trudged onwards, making her way down the busy streets once more, as she had been doing the days before. There was no real way to move around much beyond this so the best thing to do would be to get to know her surroundings. Perhaps today, a new day, she might learn something new - or find someone in a similar position.
act iii: the inn intermittently from arrival onwards
Trading a couple of ebony arrows and her as of now useless Imperial Gold had provided her with some form of local currency. Something something, impressive work on these arrows and a few other curious words. She was probably going to regret her decision later, but there was a very loud screw that switch in her mind and it was jammed in the on position.
Fate - or her personality - would have it that she'd found her way to the closest inn with a bar serving the closest thing to her homeland's mead. With a room rented securely for as long as she could provide bounty for her work as a huntress, she should be fine. Many questions remained unanswered, but even days after the fact Bryn felt as though she still hadn't had time to digest everything that had happened and was happening.
For the time being the Dragonborn, secured with her ever faithful bow and quiver, was drinking. Alone, or with company, the alcohol was her priority.
WHEN: First week of April
WHAT: arrival, settling into a new life
WHERE: Gazin, Gazin outskirts, Inn/Tavern
WARNINGS: alcohol, mentions of (healed) injuries from a dragon fight, probably curse words??
Nahl... DAAL VUS—
The thunderous force of Tsun's shout had been deafening; even as the Dragonborn knelt before the god of trials, the words had knocked her back and knocked her out. Her last thoughts had melded into the sensation of being swept away and yet she recalled what they entailed: she did not want to go back. She did not want to return to Skyrim, nor did she want to face Paarthurnax or any of His remaining siblings. Their world would be safe from Alduin - for now, she suspected - but all she felt as he'd faded away was horror. Dovahkiin, hin kah fen kos bonaar - your pride will be humbled, he had warned and for the first time in a long, long time, Bryn had felt just that. Yet she couldn't remain in Sovngarde - the Nordic afterlife - simply put because she it wasn't her time. She wasn't dead yet and Tsun had spoken.
When everything faded to black, so did her thoughts fade into nothingness.
act i: gazin outskirts upon arrival
Brynhild opened her eyes to the dewy orange shade of the rising sun; it painted her skin a warm shade, making her eyes glisten as she blinked, her vision still blurry. She lay on the ground, arms to each side as if she'd been, indeed, knocked back by the god's Thu'um. A tentative twitch of her fingers and then her entire hand indicated to her that she was more or less intact and despite the stiffness of her muscles, she realised that she should be able to sit up relatively well. Her injuries had not yet begun to hurt and she thanked the gods for that kindness. Between that and the morning sun warming her skin, she could almost allow herself to lie in that daze a little longer. A breeze brushed past her cheeks, carrying with it small hair-like branches...
Nature did not bloom in the Throat of the World.
As if snapped back to reality, the woman sat up, half expecting to hiss in pain - and yet the pain didn't come to her. She looked down at herself and found that the once fresh wounds from her last battle - from Alduin's claws, his roaring flames - seemed to be superficially healed. There was no bleeding, no painful welts and despite the bruising on her skin, she felt fine. A quick glance around only furthered her confusion: she was in a field, a field ripe with plants and shrubbery painted orange under the sun. Nature did not - could not - bloom in the Throat of the World: the winds were violent, the snow compact and thick and even in the warmest of days, it did not melt. The tallest mountain of Skyrim was testament to the region's fame: shrouded in snow and cold, the kind of cold only a Nord could endure for so long.
"What the..." Her voice was raspy, but it didn't fail. A further look around provided her with knowledge that her satchel, bow and quiver were sprawled just behind her and she scrambled to grab them, fastening them round her back and waist as they ought to have been in the first place. A few pats down her sides to confirm that everything was in place and she paused once more, glancing around. At a relatively small distace a pale smoke and rising constructions indicated that she was near a city, yet she couldn't quite place herself. This wasn't Whiterun. It wasn't Falkreath, or The Rift. She would know those.
As she paced, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Should anyone come across her, she would be headed toward the dirt road, away from the grassy field. Perhaps it was time to head towards that city and figure this out...
act ii: gazin three days upon arrival
Well, that had done it.
Gazin, a plate read, a city by a name Bryn had never heard or seen before. She'd quickly learned that there seemed to be no question as to who the stranger was or where she'd come from. Made sense, she considered: the city was bustling with life and movement and a new face would be just one more, though none of it answered where exactly this was. That Tsun hadn't accidentally sent her to another province she had come to understand. This was a world beyond Nirn altogether, but that answered very little.
With a sigh she trudged onwards, making her way down the busy streets once more, as she had been doing the days before. There was no real way to move around much beyond this so the best thing to do would be to get to know her surroundings. Perhaps today, a new day, she might learn something new - or find someone in a similar position.
act iii: the inn intermittently from arrival onwards
Trading a couple of ebony arrows and her as of now useless Imperial Gold had provided her with some form of local currency. Something something, impressive work on these arrows and a few other curious words. She was probably going to regret her decision later, but there was a very loud screw that switch in her mind and it was jammed in the on position.
Fate - or her personality - would have it that she'd found her way to the closest inn with a bar serving the closest thing to her homeland's mead. With a room rented securely for as long as she could provide bounty for her work as a huntress, she should be fine. Many questions remained unanswered, but even days after the fact Bryn felt as though she still hadn't had time to digest everything that had happened and was happening.
For the time being the Dragonborn, secured with her ever faithful bow and quiver, was drinking. Alone, or with company, the alcohol was her priority.
Act III
He was just coming in, his suit jacket draped over his arm. The rest of his fine suit stood out against the inn's old world look, he made his way over to the bar ordering some ale, he had already planned to spend the rest of his evening up in his rented room working on theories, Herbert had never been the outgoing type, but seeing the woman with her bow near by, it shouldn't have stood out and yet it did. She didn't stand out as much as he or some of the others he mad met have, but the nagging voice in the back of his head said to seek her out, see if she is new here to. If not, well, maybe she could still be useful.
"Good evening." The soft voice spoke, his jacket draped back over his shoulders, the deep blue suit, and baby blue shirt contrasted his pale skin and long pale blond hair, but it did wonders for his blue eyes, or would if they didn't have an almost dead look to them. The man himself spoke as soft as he looked. A good breeze might have knocked him over if looks were not deceiving. "I have not yet seen you around. Are you from this world?" He inquired, using the hand not holding his tankard, to push his spectacles back up over his eyes.
no subject
"Evenin'."
Trained eyes examined his figure, silently noticing his outlandish appearance: though she knew very little of this world still, both from what she had come to understand and by Skyrim's standards he looked foreign, strange. He did not dress like a farmer, or a warrior and though she might take a shot at saying he looked like a scholar, it was not just what he donned but also his posture that indicated it. She could be wrong, of course, but she had a nagging suspicion that her instincts weren't failing her yet.
"This world? No." Ultimately, Bryn offered a small smile, gesturing for him to sit if he so choose. "I don't know where this world is.
"Folks call me Brynhild." Of Helgen she would like to add - wherever Helgen, or what's left of it, is now. "Yourself?"
no subject
He then motioned to her table. "May I join you? If only for a few questions. I am trying to figure out why we are here." He explained once she had asked his name, before adding. "It is a pleasure, Brynhild, my name is Doctor Herbert West. I to, am not from this world."
Gazin outskirts, day of arrival
She was out exploring with her staff in hand, doubly serving as a walking stick when she had to climb a rock outcropping or cross a stream.
Returning to the dirt path leading towards Gazin for a bit to orient herself, Morrigan was surprised to catch sight of a woman walking a good distance ahead of her. With that bow, maybe a huntress? Just how far did the townspeople venture into the forest to hunt? She would want to set up her shelter beyond their range, if possible.
She decided to hurry to catch up to the woman, finally calling to her, "Wait!"
no subject
When a voice called out she halted in her tracks. Shifting sideways, she watched as a woman hurried along in her direction - that staff... Could she be a mage? Brynhild's shoulders tensed a little, but she tried to retain a firm posture. No, there would be no issue even if she was one. She didn't seem hostile. It was fine.
"Oy," she called out in return once the woman got closer. Like Bryn, she didn't feel entirely out of place but she wondered, but still there was that nagging suspicion. If anything she ought to be able to provide some answers... Or so she hoped. "You wouldn't happen to know where we are?"
no subject
The woman not knowing where she was going did point towards her being a foreigner, though. It was worth a try anyway, and it's not like Morrigan would mind if she was wrong and the woman simply thought her strange.
"You didn't happen to find yourself in one place, and then suddenly here, did you?" She eyed her curiously. "Most people would know what road they are on."