Hate Sunday
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Hate Sunday

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"Dear brother, you best not look away from that pathetic pile of rubble you covet so -- Who knows what tragedy might befall it, if you were to alleviate your gaze for even a brief moment?"
winters-elf caught her attention.
"...aye?"
Winters-Elf Started Following You
The two twins had taken it upon themselves to check each of the remaining Wayshrines which were scattered throughout the Forgotten Vale and the surrounding caves, caverns, and mountainous crags that encompassed the vast Chantry Grounds, cloaked with snow and ice and gleaming in the light of the wintry sun.
The Poison Bloom (Ainilan and Gelebor)
Based on a tip from a stranger, Ainilan set out towards a little-known cave in the northwestern corner of Skyrim. Due to a fall from his horse the day before and the shattered potion bottles in his satchel, the wedding gift he had prepared for his sister had been ruined. Though it would be easy enough to simply purchase a new gift for her, he felt he should do something special. After all, it is not everyday that one's only sister is wed. Asking around about rare potion ingredients led him to Darkfall Cave in search of a red poison bloom that supposedly grew within. Knowing his sister's affinity for poisons, he was certain she would be thrilled to obtain such a rare ingredient for her research.
The cave did not appear to be much from the outside, however the inside held a large waterfall. Making his way around, he followed the passage to a rope bridge and carefully crept across. The snap of the aged rope caught him completely by surprise. He plunged into the rapids below, twisting and turning in the darkness as he was helplessly swept along by the power of the water. When the Altmer was finally flung upon land, he hardly had a moment to catch his breath before he was attacked by a group of frostbite spiders. Drawing his sword, Ainilan continued onward, hoping he'd eventually be able to locate both the poison bloom and a way out.
Turning around another corner, he could hardly believe his eyes. What was a candlelit shrine doing here? Did someone actually live in this cave? He approached the shrine with curiosity and called out a friendly, "Hello?"

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OoC: Gelebor's mod is A+, pass it on.
Darkfall Cave
How was she to know that she would be forced to take shelter in the nearby cave? The storm had come on so suddenly as she traveled through the mountain that Azariel couldn't risk staying out in the freezing weather. The cave wasn't exactly warm, but it wasn't as cold as the outside world. With a sigh, she pulled her bow from her shoulder and headed further into the cave, perhaps she could find a place to rest until the storm subsided.
Around the first corner she came across a Frostbite spider, which she dealt with quickly. And then she was headed toward the bridge. It was an old wooden bridge, with only one side still held properly at both ends. This did not look good, but the other side looked like a good place to rest, so she put aside her hesitations and began to walk across. And that was when the bridge broke beneath her weight and sent her falling into the raging waters below.
The water was freezing, and the tide was fast, too fast for her to fight it. Azariel was pulled under the surface often and struggled to get back to the surface. Just when she thought her lungs would give out, she was dumped on a cave floor, well out of reach of the crashing water. She breathed several deep lungfuls of air and coughed up a bit of water.
It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the cavern before her, but when they did she noticed her bow was some distance away from her. It had been torn from her grip in the raging current, and as she checked her quiver, she found she was also missing several arrows. Damn, that wasn't good, she had only about ten left at the moment.
"Better make them count." She said quietly to herself as she retrieved her bow and headed away from the stream of water.
She should change into dry clothes before moving on much further, or set up a fire. That became unnecessary when she found herself standing before a campfire at an abandoned campsite. There were bloodstains all around, but Azariel ignored them for the moment as she changed out of her wet clothes, hanging them near the fire, and switched into a dry set. She always carried a spare set of clothes and fur armor in case of a situation like this.
When her clothes were relatively dry, she folded them and stored them away in her small pack. Azariel didn't need to carry much with her at any given time. She had her blade at her side and her bow and quiver on her back. All that was left was to keep a few lockpicks, food, and potions handy in case she needed them. Otherwise, she wasn't one for collecting things, and only hunted when it was absolutely necessary. Pelts she usually kept for making armor, or improving on the armor she already had, and making simple repairs.
She could hear trolls down the lower path, so decided she should go up instead. But as she turned to set her course, a nagging feeling tugged at her and she turned to the lower path. She wasn't sure why, but she felt that something was down there. Azariel knew she would not be happy with herself if she passed up the chance to understand this feeling. With that in mind, she grabbed her bow and headed down the lower path.
When she came to the large chamber, all she could do was stare in wonder at the high ceiling of the cavern. Then her attention was drawn to the trolls on the other side of the cave. Carefully, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it to the bow. Azariel took a deep breath, aimed, and fired. One troll went down with ease, but the other was agitated, moving around looking for danger. She steadied her heart and drew another arrow, aimed, and shot. But this one missed!
The troll turned to her now and started lumbering across the chamber. Keeping as steady and calm as possible, she drew a third arrow and fired. The troll fell just before reaching her, at which she released a breath. Azariel hadn't even realized she was holding her breath at that moment. Still, with the threat dealt with, she moved on until she saw light ahead, coming down into the chamber from above.
It was then that her gaze fell on the shrine and her heart skipped a beat. The sun shaped symbol, the dome nearby. This was... this place marked the first step towards the Chantry of Auri-El. Her mother had told her stories about it, and she... Azariel had seen this place in her visions. But not once did she actually expect to find it in her travels. Her free hand gripped at the amulet beneath her armor, fingers taking hold of the sun shape as she walked closer.
It was like she was dreaming, none of this could be real. But the pounding of her heart and the strange feeling she had, it had to be. This wasn't a dream, she knew that. And then she noticed the figure standing nearby. The snowy-white skin, the icy eyes, and that armor. Yes, she had seen him before, just as she had seen the shrine itself in her vision, though she did not know his name.
"That which is Lost can always be Found." She muttered to herself, pausing in her tracks. Should she even approach? Was this even alright? Azariel had no idea what to expect here, and that unsettled her, but before her stood a Snow Elf, kin. She couldn't just stand here and do nothing forever. But at this moment she had no idea what to do, and certainly not what to say.
outofmoonlight; I know I owe replies on winters-elf , but I don't want to force his muse so late at night. He's an eloquent mer and deserves nothing less than that. So his replies will come in the morning. Sorry for the delay!