A Series of Mistakes

Chapter 18: A Destined Meeting. Documents Chapter Proper

The Ashlands tended to have a dusky violet hue in the early morning as the slowly rising sun cast its light across the ashen landscape. It was pretty, he thought to himself as he scaled another dune, following his Guide’s lead as they journeyed to what Erra had described as a sort of open-air shrine. He had wanted to ask the ancestors for their favour or something of the sort…

Serious Mistakes- Chapter Twenty-One

Teldryn took a deep breath and changed his stance, stretching out his left leg and leaning into the tautness of it. It was still a bit sticky, even with all of Ki’s healing efforts, and he’d downplayed the pain enough to get her to let him join this assault. This was his fuck up after all. As innocent as he was when it came to the death of Idunn, he had still chosen to antagonise Dren, and the bastard was playing on the fragility of Sigrun’s grief. All in the pursuit of a cycle of revenge that he feared would never be satisfied.

It had been a long day— by Azura, it had been a long week! Erra sighed to himself as he weaved through the bustling streets of Maar Gan. The second Turdas of every month was always a little chaotic in the market square as vendors set up their stalls for the Monthly Night Markets. He did not mind; it is just that so many people in one spot still left him a little overwhelmed at times. Even after fifteen years of living with the settled Dunmer, the crowds were something he just could not get used to. Especially when he had been on the road for days. He supposed that was why he chose to settle in Maar Gan, rather than Ald’ruhn or Vivec City. The outpost, with its sizable Velothi population situated on the edge of the Redoran-Ashlands, made him feel less homesick. Yes, business in Ald’ruhn was more lucrative, and it would have been smarter to try to set up in the heart of Redoran lands. Those would have been smarter decisions, yes. But he would have been miserable.

The northernmost reaches of Solstheim reminded Sydari of Windhelm. A bitterly cold, rocky landscape where every surface was covered in a blanket of snow, dampening everything into an eerie silence. Oddly, it all gave her a slight pang of homesickness. Regret of what could have been, had she not thrown it all away for a rush. There was a brief period when she thought she could make a life for herself in the Gray Quarter, that she could be content being the wife of a Shopkeep and leaving it at that. No stealing or selling herself on the streets just for a place to stay that wasn’t too drafty. She could have been a real person…whatever that actually meant?

A Collection of Documents

Chapter Sixteen: Tangled String

‘Meet me in the morning,’ seemed to have different meanings depending on who he was speaking with. When Teldryn said that phrase, he implied that he’d try to be up and ready to go before noon. He was starting to gather that the phrase meant something a little different to his Ashlander guide, who had apparently been waiting for him to show his face since the sun rose that morning. It wasn’t how Teldryn operated, and when he finally reached that top landing of the Tradehouse, maybe an hour or two before noon, it was clear that there had been a serious miscommunication between the two. His escort had seemed frustrated when Teldryn had finally met his eye, which was astoundingly difficult given how much effort the mer was putting into avoiding his gaze.

Mountains, ash, the feeling of his flesh melting from his bones as he was hit with the boiling gases that spewed forth from the great mountain before him. Again, and again, and again. He knew what to expect from this part of his dream. It rarely changed in the last two centuries. He’d spread his arms out and embrace his end, screaming into the dust and smoke, relishing the fire. Nothing about this phase frightened him. It only told of the inevitable, a story that had played out before and will play out again and again.

It was the second act that worried him. If he were lucky, as he seemed to have been tonight, he might wander the endless void that once held the voices of a thousand, thousand lost souls. All gradually silenced as the centuries dragged ever onwards. The denizens of Dagoth Ur and his generals who survived the purges gradually succumbed to the silent void left in the absence of their Ascended betters. Lost and starved, snuffling about in the dirt for some crumb of a connection to the aubris. Their world was a pitch-dark cacophony of suffocating silence.

15 A. A Collection of Documents: A Report on Ashlanders and the Nerevarine Cult

15 B. Into the Wastes

Balmora was always raining. No matter when he arrived in the city, he could always guarantee that he’d be greeted with a torrential downpour. Teldryn had managed to find some respite from the near-constant autumn deluge with his recent move to Ald’ruhn. It had been nice staying outside the watchful eyes of Cosades’ lackeys. Compared to Balmora, Ald’ruhn felt like a breath of fresh air— as dusty and dry as it was. At least he wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder every time he left his fucking room!

Sydari was used to climbing steep, rocky mountain scapes, though usually not with an injured, oversized Dunmer taking up half the trail. Geldis had worried that they had left too soon, but Teldryn had insisted on leaving the day after he’d woken up and wasn’t taking no for an answer. The mer was barely able to bend his leg at the hip, and yet he somehow managed to convince them that he was fine climbing that mountain path… and he was, up until the incline got a little too steep and the mer had to admit defeat. She had managed to hide her frustration at the very least. They had reached the outskirts of the nomad camp late in the afternoon, Geldis supporting Teldryn’s weight as they slowly came to a stop amongst a forest full of trained arrows. The two of them had assured her that such greetings were normal, and the nomads that surrounded them just out of sight lowered their weapons as soon as they heard Teldryn bellow something in that dialect she couldn’t understand. It all seemed a little…hostile. She wasn’t sure if that was a fair assessment, but she honestly didn’t know what to make of the situation that unfolded as soon as Teldryn made his presence known.

Hey look it's finally done- the Ashlander Burials doc is finally done and up for reading. Hope you enjoy Joshi's views on his people's burial rites.

Enjoy!

A Collection of Documents: Letters and Journals from the Incarnate- Part Ten

Chapter Fourteen: An Ashland Hymn

Ald’ruhn was certainly different to Balmora, that’s for sure. Where the West Gash was green and swampy, the Ashlands were well…ash. Sure, Teldryn had been outside the Guild Hall, but he hadn’t really taken the time to look about the Redoran capital on Vvardenfell. Instead making for the Silt Strider port so that he could pick up his shit for Cosades…for all the good that did him. It was because of that blunder that Teldryn had decided to take a few days for himself. He’d moved into his new room at the Guild Hall and wanted to get himself settled properly. That involved him getting himself familiar with the local nightlife— naturally, all Teldryn really gave a shit about was where he could get himself a decent drink for as little coin as possible.