The Merethic Tale, Chapter 1 - It Begins

• Posted by Mortiferous February 4, 2016 - 1,549 views

  

  The lazy tendrils of sleep slowly released Bjorn from their warm, fuzzy grasp, he groaned as he gained consciousness, his emerald green eyes staring at the wooden ceiling of his quarters. Bjorn slowly sat up, yawning and scratching his charcoal black beard softly as he pulled himself out of his bed. He made his way out of his quarters, greeting his associates who were already waiting for him around a long stone table

  "Pruzah Feyl" he said, bowing his head, the others around the table except for the Nord at the head of the table replied in unison

  "Pruzah Feyl, Bjorn" and turned back into their original positions as Bjorn took his seat next to them. The Nord at the end of the table that the rest of them knew as Alalf stood, his horned helm glinting in the candlelight

  "Zeymah, today we hunt them, today we shall make our first move against them. They have oppressed us for too long and we shall strike them down from their strunmah! Master Paarthurnax has taught us to use our Zul and now we shall use it against the Dovah! Our Zul is strong and our zahkrii - our swords - are sharp. Hakon, Felldir and Gormlaith have tried to reason with Miraak, but he refused to help us, well I say to Oblivion with him! Our own sos and dwiin will bring the Dov to their knees!" Alalf stopped and breathed, before continuing "Now, my fellow Nords, are you with me?!". With a roar of vigor all the men around the table got to their feet and threw their fists into the air

  "Geh!" they roared, the room shaking with the power of their combined shout.

  "Then arm yourselves, we march at noon!" Alalf shouted, the ground shuddering at the sound of his voice.

  Bjorn rose from his seat, following his companions down to the armory, the walls were stocked with armors, both heavy and light, he picked out the finest looking iron apparel and began to suit himself, within an hour the black metal armor was upon his hardy Nord body, his helm donned with pride. He reached for a shield and sword, the blade fitting perfectly into his hand, he grinned Today is the day I prove my worth in battle he thought to himself, gritting his teeth.

  Before long, the Nords were suited in their armor, blades and bows at the ready, Alalf led the group outside 

  "We make our move there" He pointed his hand to a mountain peak, visible in the distance "Venstrunriik rests there, we shall bring him down with our Zul!". Alalf shepherded the Nord warriors across the snowy terrain, the cold winds blowing as the midday sun was covered by a large grey cloud. Bjorn took in the beautiful land around him, feeling more free than he had ever been, today revolution shall begin and Skyrim shall belong to the Nords, the men that deserve their freedom.

  Hours later, they arrived in a clearing in the trees at the foot of the mountain, Alalf turned and said 

  "We rest here, we shall attack tomorrow, use your Zul to form gol, men, zaan together!" the platoon of warriors stood and approached the rock, together they shouted

  "GOL BULD GUL!" their voice rippled the stone, like wind over water, their voice burrowed into the rock face, becoming reality, the will of man reshaping the rock, their fantasy becoming fact, their will shook Nirn itself and combined their realities into one. There was a soft boom and the cave was born into the side of the mountain. 

  The warriors laid down their weapons inside, starting to rest on the soft earth, a few men gathered logs from nearby trees and laid them down, giving the logs warmth and making them burst into flames with a word

  YOL!" Bjorn watched, he was far from the strongest with his voice here, their previous leader, the Tongue Mikrald, had a voice so powerful that he had to be gagged or he would destroy the meeting locations with a word, but he was certainly not the weakest.

  The warriors roasted meat over the flames they had created, sweet venison was passed around that afternoon, sating their appetites for now. Bjorn looked up at the blue sky and thought of the battle ahead, Venstrunriik was a powerful dragon, that he knew, when he was in the Dragon Cult he had seen him and Alduin conversing in Dovahzul, his voice had contained a great malice, he clearly delighted in the suffering of mortals, it would bring Bjorn great joy to see him defeated. 

  By evening, Bjorn was still in deep thought, the fire crackled in the twilight, Masser and Secunda rose in the East. The tranquility was broken by a thundering roar and a blast of wind that extinguished the fire and dampened the spirits of the Nords within the cave, a mighty voice said, with all the power of the Gods

  "JOOR, HI KRILON MEYZVOLAAN HET. ZU'U FENT  VOLUK HI NOL FAAL LUFT DO VUS!" the ground shook with the sound as Venstrunriik flew overhead, his wings unleashing gale-force winds, his maw unleashing waves of heat. Bjorn's eyes widened and he reached for his sword, he muttered under his breath

  "It begins...".