Frost Trolls 8th Sun's Dawn, 4E 203
It is about midday as the party departs Winterhold after returning the ring of Malyn Varen to Tjolfdir and informing the mages of what had happened to him. Tjolfdir revoked Medea's banishment from the Mage's Guild, and re-initiated her into the guild, albeit at the rank of a novice. After re-supplying, the crew exits the fair little city and begins trekking westwards along the frozen coast.
"Do you suppose the Akaviri have landed yet?" Sir Mazog asks looking out at the frozen ocean as the party strolls along.
"Maybe, but it ain't our problem anymore." Maerwyn shrugs.
"Well that's not a very good attitude. Akavir's invasion is a problem for the whole Empire." Sir Mazog frowns.
"Perhaps we can learn more when we reach Dawnstar. They say a new nation named Hjaalmarch0 he formed there and that their leader is an orc and a friend of the Empire." Sir Plutarch speaks up and nods at Sir Mazog.
"May the Divines be with them." Sir Jaquavis says softly and the party continues walking in silence thinking about the events going on in the world.
A little before the evening the party reaches the Brostflow Lighthouse. It appears that bandits once holed up here. Cautiously sneaking inside Maerwyn creeps through the lighthouse checking it to see if there is any inhabitants still remaining but he finds none. Cassandra casting detect life, also sees no sign of life here.
The crew rummages through the abandoned lighthouse for supplies. Maerwyn comes across a trapped chest, and skillfully lockpicking the tripwire and disabling it, opens the chest. Inside the chest are a few coins, a diamond, and an enchanted dagger that does fire damage. Maerwyn pockets the gold and gives the diamond to Medea and promises to fit it into a ring for her when they reach Whiterun. Cassandra takes the enchanted dagger. Seeing there is not much left here the group leaves the lighthouse and proceeds onward.
Not far from the lighthouse they come upon a sword sticking out of the frozen ground. Approaching it slowly, they see a body near the sword, half buried by the snow. As they move forward they see more scattered equipment, and the bodies of bandits frozen and lifeless in a group. Maerwyn bends down examining the bodies. As the group tries to make sense of this scene a loud trollshriek pierces the air.
Maerwyn stands up and looks at Trollz. Trollz just stares back at him when another trollshriek answers the one from before. Sir Mazog's eyes widen and he unsheathes his sword. Two frost trolls come running down upon the party, stopping in front of them the two white monsters beat their chests. Trollz gives out a happy trollcry and approaches them. As Trollz walks up the bigger frost troll dashes forward and decks Trollz in the face knocking him over. The other frost troll advances giving out a fierce trollroar.
The big frost troll barrels into the group slamming Sir Mazog, whom only just in time raises his shield to take the brunt of the force, and knocks the orc knight backwards to the ground. The other frost troll is going toe to toe with Sir Plutarch, throwing haymakers at the portly imperial whom takes a few blows to his heavy armored chest. Plutarch returns a blow with a mighty swing of his hammer breaking the creature's hip and making it give out a terrible cry. Sir Jaquavis dashes in and with a swift slice of his shortsword, slices the frost troll's neck.
Trollz gets to his feet and dashes between the big frost troll and pushes it backward before it can stomp upon Sir Mazog's face. Trollz jabbers away in the trollzish tongue trying to make peace, but the frost trolls either as a different species, or simply being too wild, seem not to care or notice. The big frost troll gives an angry trollroar and belts Trollz again, knocking him down. Maerwyn unloads an arrow into the beast's shoulder and it rounds upon him beating its chest before charging. The frost troll tackles Maerwyn and raises a fist to pummel him. Cassandra runs forward with her new enchanted dagger and stabs out at the frost troll, the little knife barely bites into the creature and it backhands Cassandra, breaking her nose and knocking her unconscious. However the enchanted knife catches the fur of the animal on fire and it begins to run around madly hurt by the fire and also seeing the flame sends it into a panic. Seeing the opportunity, Asher leaps high into the air and comes down with great force upon the creature, impaling it upon his spear. With one last roar the frost troll picks Asher up and throws him to the side. Pinned to the ground by the spear going through it, Sir Jaquavis comes up behind the monster and cutting its throat, puts it down.
Healing up with spells and potions, the group reorganizes themselves. Sir Plutarch throws Cassandra's limp unconscious body over his shoulders. He gives a boyish grin as he balances the redheaded Breton woman on his shoulders by putting a hand on her butt. Asher approaches the dead frost trolls, taking out a dagger, he cuts out their troll fat and distributes portions to it to everyone. Trollz seeing this whimpers sadly and looks away.
(Lol I would take it with a grain of salt. Basically Trollz and crew comments on things that happen throughout the Empire as they pursue their adventures. This is kind of a theme I began with Trollz early on where he and his friends are on the periphery of many events. This is done through rumors, news, meeting characters affected by events, passive comments, etc. Trollz and his crew are merely Flawed Narrators of the events going on in Tamriel which directly and indirectly affect their stories. By being Flawed Narrators this allows them to connect their story to the wider Region, but also keeps them removed enough that one can merely write off their various wonderings about the other players and their lands as gossip.
In regards to the timeskip, I have decided to vote the 20 year timeskip. Personally I can really work around whatever is decided when I end this Saga. But I am heavily favoring a 20 year skip, since it gave me an idea recently where I could start the Third Trollz Saga off with the next generation of heroes. I suppose we'd either have to convince others to change their votes or elsewise change ours to a compromise of a 10 year timeskip. Personally I will need about 5-6 more posts to finish the 2nd Saga.)
The Emperor of Tamriel, The great empire of cyrodiil, and Hjaalmarch0
can i ask if im still high king of skyrim because it seems that way as i havent gotten any telegrams of other pushing a claim against my holding of the crown!
Trollz, Ardoland, and Hjaalmarch0
(If no one challenged it, the crown is yours. There is another player in skyrim, so you might want to check if he accepts your claim.)
If i am Correct, I only claim 3 Skyrim Holds. The Empire won the civil war, therefore, Skyrim is still an Imperial Province and finally Solitude is still the capital of Imperial Skyrim. By regional rules, I have chosen my claims first for my roleplay nation. The Kingdom of Hjaalmarch has control over Hjaalmarch Hold, The Pale Hold, and The Winterhold. Also wouldn't that also mean that High Queen Elisif is your Queen? We do not plan on overclaiming or war against you, just following the rules. Which reminds me, The Emperor of Tamriel have you fix the claiming error? It says i claim Markarth but i don't have a claim over The Reach nor plan on it.
(Lol if I might make a suggestion, why not just make the matter of Skyrim and the claims and counter-claims and sorta politicking between Skyrim's factions and players and such a part of the RP?
But I mean do whatever ya'll want, just a suggestion, lol I'm just a merry Fellowship of the Trollz passing through the fair land of Skyrim lol. Trollz and Crew will arrive in Dawnstar tonight and I figured I'd use that post as a sorta more passive post analyzing Hjaalmarch0 and other Skyrim political affairs from the party's point of view and good old NPC town gossip/rumors.
Also I have thought lately to make a status of forces report like my old reports. My problem is I am too lazy lol and also now with all the players, plus the Akaviri that's quite a lot. But just for the sake of posterity this is the current cast of the Fellowship of the Trollz for the Second Trollz Saga;
The Fellowship of the Trollz (Currently in Skyrim):
1 Wood Elf Reluctant Hero named Maerwyn
1 Nord Damsel In Distress named Medea
1 Orc Chivalric Knight named Sir Mazog
1 Breton Oracle named Cassandra
1 Dunmer Tribal Warrior named Asher
1 Redguard modelled after Legolas from LOTR named Sir Jaquavis
1 Imperial modelled after Gimli from LOTR named Sir Plutarch
1 Troll to rule them all, one troll to find them, one troll to bring them all and for the sake of entertainment bind them! Named Trollz. )
I mean your not wrong we could, but to be legit in the roleplay, Northern skyrim has been absent for awhile which im sure is probably not his fault but never the less, Me and the The Emperor of Tamriel along with a few NPCs in the roleplay has already agreed and signed Hjaalmarch0's Declaration of Independence. Therefore, I don't see a reason to go backwards because a fellow RP member was absent. However, if it comes to it I would love to get involved in a RP with Northern skyrim but Hjaalmarch0 must remain Independent from Skyrim and the Empire. But thank you Trollz for the suggestion, your a good person to go to for RP help. You may visit and continue your journeys in the Kingdom of Hjaalmarch as long as you want. As long you don't break any laws we have(even tho we're not rich enough to enforce them yet lol).
Sorry for posting right after my previous one, but can anyone help me find images for the flags of Morthal, Dawnstar, and Winterhold? I know I have the Morthal flag as my nation's flag but i need an URL image for other things and everytime i look for an image and use it, it won't pop up the image. Thanks for the help, telegram me if you have the solution or the images.
The great empire of cyrodiil and Trollz
Dawnstar 12th Sun's Dawn, 4E 203
It is still dark, about an hour before the morning light in Dawnstar as the party awakes and begins preparing to set out. They had arrived in the city the day prior. Sir Mazog, Sir Jaquavis, and Sir Plutarch had separately met with the authorities of Hjaalmarch0 on behalf of the Empire and been gone all the previous day and into the night. They arrive at the Windpeak Inn at about 4:30 in the morning to find Maerwyn down in the general bar area smoking a pipe and eating breakfast.
"So are we ready?" Sir Mazog says curtly, having a bit of a headache, to Maerwyn as the legionnaires sit down at the table and join him.
"Eh who knows with the women, they take a while." Maerwyn laughs. "Asher didn't come back last night, he went to the Dunmer Quarter of the city. How did your meeting with this fellow Ogrug-cat go?" Maerwyn grins and looks over to a group of Nords sitting nearby looking at the motley crew of adventurers with some scorn.
"His name is King Ogrug-gat of Hjaalmarch0. Well we didn't meet with him, but we met with his governor, the Jarl, but anyways, the talks went well...." Sir Mazog says vaguely and thinks to himself hazily for a moment recalling the day previous to himself.
Earlier the day before Trollz and company come up to Dawnstar, now a much bigger city proper being a major city of Hjaalmarch0. Before entering the city they have Trollz transform himself into a horker and hang out lowkey underwater hidden in a pond while the rest of the party enters the city. Blubbery Trollz in horker form belly flops into the waters swimming around merrily for a bit until the party is out of sight before diving and feeding on some taste seaweeds.
Entering the outskirts of Dawnstar there is a vast quarter of the various races besides the Nords. The most populous of the minority races are the Dunmer. This slummy part of the city though is host to a fair mix of many of the other races, a stark surprise for Skyrim. Asher looks around astounded at the Nordic style homes and the Dunmer in Nordic clothing going about their days. Even for the diverse crowd here, seeing an Ashlander in full chitin tribal style gear is something of a spectacle.
"What is this? What are you doing my brothers? Why are you dressed like the N'Wah?" Asher's raspy voice cries out as he detaches from the party and approaches a group of Dunmer looking at him. They laugh and walk past him and some Khajiti off to the side selling merchandise in the streets laugh. Another Dunmer in finer clothing and two Nords go walking by talking business and flashing some money. "You have let the N'Wah corrupt you with gold!" Asher shouts at the Dunmer.
"Hey beat it gramps, I ain't got the time." The young Dunmer says and his Nordic friends push Asher aside and walk on and enter a shop.
"And what is this, you even would mix with the N'Wah?!" Asher gets up and turn about to see a Dunmer girl and an Imperial holdings hands walking by,
"My brothers and sister I beseech you, give up these N'Wah customs and return to Morrowind the land of your proud Dunmer ancestors!" Asher bellow out and some Dunmer passing by laugh, while some other people look at him in his strange garb.
"This is not true, Morrowind is the land of your fathers. The Argonians are driven back, the Akaviri have been fended off. Even a stable kingdom like Great redoran now exists. My sons you have been corrupted to join the N'Wah and forget your people the proud Dunmer..." The elder Asher pleads in his raspy voice with the crowd.
"Well I think I am beginning to understand Felicity a lot more. Come on, I think Asher will be at this for a while." Maerwyn laughs and the Party leave him to preach in the streets.
The rest of the Party besides Asher enter the nice Nordic side of town and closer to the longhouse where the governor stays. Here Sir Mazog, Sir Jaquavis, and Sir Plutarch enter the longhouse leaving Maerwyn, Medea, and Cassandra to explore the town and get supplies as needed and arrange their lodgings at the inn. The three legionnaires enter the luxurious Nordic hall of Dawnstar where now a new Jarl on behalf of Hjaalmarch0 sits. After addressing the formalities they begin to talk.
"Our King Ogrug-gat has founded Hjaalmarch0 and has obtained independence from the The Emperor of Tamriel and the treaty ratified. What was the meaning of your visit here?" The Jarl asks passively.
"We have heard as much, and the Empire keeps its commitments we hope your blossoming Kingdom will realize. We have come though on other matters. Ourselves and the group we travel with have come from the Battle of Baan Malur. The Akaviri have begun invading Tamriel, and everyone in Tamriel is under threat of this enemy whether they are part of the Empire or not. We have merely come to bear the news and forewarning to your lordship as we pass through on our way to Whiterun and wish safe passage." Sir Mazog gives a curt bow and explains the meaning of their visit.
"Yes we are aware of the Akaviri presence I assure you, but it seems they have not yet set foot in Skyrim. Was that all?" The Jarl says dismissively.
"Well, your grace, I do not think you understand the gravity of the situation. Right now from last the reports we have heard Skyrim has only gone unconquered because Ardoland has engaged the Akaviri navy not far out to sea from your coast regions, though as to what the outcome of that battle is, well who is to say. Great redoran is also not very far from your new lands borders and Northern skyrim and Skyrim And Nordic Peoples are also factions in the land that have to be warned of the possible threat of the Akaviri. Do you not think it is rather time for all of Tamriel to unite under the The Emperor of Tamriel lest the Akaviri send a second wave and manage to actually gain a foothold on Tamriel?" Sir Mazog beseeches the Jarl passionately whom looks at him for a while and then smiles widely.
"Ah you have a good heart young orc, much like our noble king whom is an orc too. But consider Hjaalmarch0 is a refuge for many of the non-Nords here in Skyrim. Founding a new nation is not easy, much less holding it together. We only just obtained independence from the Empire. Akavir while it may be a threat at sometime in the future that time is not now. Just as likely as more may come, wel perhaps they are also truly beaten all ready, in which case it is best for us to not to get entangled too deeply with the Empire." The Jarl smiles and rises and the three legionnaires give a curt bow. "And any ways I am not the king of Hjaalmarch0, that is my lord King Ogrug-Gat. I am just a Jarl, I cannot promise any such actions you suggest no matter how noble or naïve they would be."
"We understand, thank you, your excellence." Sir Jaquavis says.
"I can allow you safe passage though of course, you may go in peace and the Kingdom thanks you for the information. I would like to invite the three of you to enjoy the time here feasting and drinking mead if it pleases you." The Jarl says jovially as some Nordic women come bearing horns of mead to them all.
They enter the mead hall part of the longhouse and proceed feasting and drinking all night with the Jarl and the nobles of Dawnstar. Sir Mazog, fairly drunk after just two horns passes out, it is his first time drinking mead. Sir Jaquavis does not drink but instead entertains himself with some pretty Nordic women. Pounding through the mead horns one after the other Sir Plutarch almost wins a drinking contest against a Nord but then the two begin arguing and bragging at eachother. This ends up in a fist fight to the glee of the crowd which Sir Plutarch wins earning him a little bit of gold which he then spends on more mead. Near the morning Sir Mazog wakes up with a hangover and the three Legionnaires leave the Hall to find Maerwyn and the others.
Returning to today the first rays of dawn appear over Dawnstar as the Party as they find Asher sleeping in the streets in the non-Nordic Quarter and wake him up. Roused out of his sleep the old Ashlander looks sadly around a the small but quaint apartments and houses his Dunmer counterparts living in Skyrim are fast asleep in. Moving through the streets slowly at a pace either just waking up, or in the case of Sir Plutarch and Sir Jaquavis, having been up all night, they leave Dawnstar behind. Walking outside the city on clear but still chilly day they find Trollz in horker form in the pond where they left him. Trollz changes back and the group turns around and circumventing the city, head south, on their way to Whiterun.
High King Ogrug-Gat gets word of travelers traveling through and acquiring information about potential invasions by the Akiviri. After witnessing the naval battle happening off the coast of Hjaalmarch Hold in Hjaalmarch0, the High King sends 100 troops of the Royal Winstad Army along with some of the Hjaalmarch Hold guards to defend the coastline and sets a base camp on the "Wreck of the Ice Runner". High King Ogrug-Gat prepares back up evacuation plan incase the Akiviri invades. (Information bout the back up plan will be public to Hjaalmarch0 on a factbook)
Trollz and Great redoran
Ald-Ruhn, Central Vvardenfell
After the great battles against the Akaviri in the far-northwestern city of Blacklight, the King Symmachus Shofets returned to Ald-Ruhn triumphantly, amidst a raucous and patriotic celebration of his return. Of the 43,000 he had gathered a few months ago, nearly 33,000 remained, and much of the army had shed troops as they progressed through Vvardenfell, with the soldiers returning to their families, and the Ashlanders to their tribes.
The Great Palace that had been built after Red Year, dubbed, New Skar, was the King's destination: he progressed through the streets atop a great military parade, with drums, chants, and songs as the soldiers, drunk on victory, were cheered on by the populace. Within the parade, there were many champions and warriors, showing off their loot and trophies; there were also a number of captives, snakemen and snow-demons, who would be kept as military trophies for an indefinite amount of time, likely in the service of the noble lords and ladies of the city.
New Skar, Ald-Ruhn
Upon his entrance into the fortress, Symmachus was instantaneously beset by courtiers, commanders, and noblewomen, all trying their hand at being the first to congratulate him. He bypassed the vast majority, accepting several compliments here and there, and continued to his quarters, where his heavily pregnant wife, Rawia, was resting. Having caught up with the queen, he then progressed to his most trusted advisers, his generals. They spoke to him plainly and openly, and suggested a number of full-frontal wars to keep the Redoran as the strongest house. As this was a normal, and generally standard Redoran doctrine, Symmachus thought nothing of it, as his numbers were depleted, and the people, although celebrating, were likely quite war-weary. However, when they spoke to him of a new plan for expansion and settlement, he was intrigued.
"What we propose, your majesty," said his good friend and general Horaz Llethras, "is to restrict Ashlander movement, freeing up a great deal of land to settle. We can promise the land to the soldiers who just returned." "Then," joined in General Mawic, "We can attempt to educate and reform these Ashlander groups, and incorporate them into Redoran society. Our population will skyrocket! No one will doubt the greatest house by then."
Symmachus, realizing the implications behind this, was obviously reluctant. However, due to Sadras incursions recently, as well as Telvanni intrigue and clandestine operations, he also realized the necessity for a show of force, an increase in strength, and a firm demonstration that the Redoran were the ruling house of Morrowind, and would not be questioned.
The Ahemmusa Tribe, West Gash
The Ashlanders were practicing the daily lives of tribal nomads, skinning and hunting nix, alit, and wild guar. It was an average day in the hardscrabble and poor life of the tribe, but they were steeped in tradition, and payed their backward ways no heed. Suddenly, the noise of a Redoran convoy's drums breaks the serenity. The Ashlanders, many of whom recently fought in the Baan Malur engagements, gather their weapons and prepare for an assault. However, the Redoran do not draw their arms, and when they enter yelling distance, they say "We mean no harm!"
The Ahemmusa, reluctant because of the martial nature of the Convoy, discuss with each other, and decide to trust the Settled House's promises. The Redoran commander then reads a proclamation from the King Shofets, stating, "The Ahemmusa Ashlander Tribe of West Gash is granted the permanent ownership, in perpetuity, of 2,000 fertile Acres in the Northwestern District of West Gash. Accordingly, said tribe will be expected to till the land and soil, and settle the land, and they will not migrate outside of their reservation without a passport granted by an emissary of the King, that shall act as ambassador to the Tribe. The Ahemmusa Tribe will be allowed, and encouraged, to continue their traditions within their allotted territory; however, the King has sent teachers of the New Temple to educate the Ahemmusa in reading and writing, as well as other skills, such as craftsmanship. If the Ahemmusa agree to all arrangements, than they shall ready themselves, and we shall escort the Tribe to their designated holding, where the King shall adopt them to be citizens of the House of Redoran."
The Ahemmusa, a proud but weakened tribe after sending many fighting men to their death, did not see a realistic way to resist the Redoran's absorption of their tribe, and the leader, a grizzled Ashlander champion, scrawled an illiterate signature onto the King's decree. After all, they had fought for King Symmachus, so why would he steer them the wrong way? The Redoran escort waited until sunrise the next morning, when the nomadic tribe had packed, likely for the last time, and they set off.
Trollz and Hjaalmarch0
Giant Problems 16th Sun's Dawn, 4E 203
"Not another mountain!" Sir Plutarch groans and huffs making his way to the top of a ridge where the other party members have stopped to wait for him.
"What's the problem old Pluto, not used to hiking back home in Colovia?" Sir Jaquavis laughs at his colleagues downcast face as he sees the last small mountains and foothills immediately ahead of them.
"I'm surprised you do so well here Jaq, I thought Hammerfell was mostly a desert." Sir Plutarch says bending over winded and catching his breath.
"Yes, Alik'r is beautiful." Sir Jaquavis smiles and looks up out at the snowy foothills. "This is nice too though, a desert of snow rather than sand."
"Look, I can see Whiterun in the distance." Maerwyn says pointing to a little glowing lights on the horizon to the south, barely in view past the last range of mountain.
"Home...." Medea says to herself softly. "It's been so long...."
"Do you still want to go?" Maerwyn turns to Medea and puts his arms around her.
"Yes......and no. Do you still want to declare marriage to me to my dad?" Medea looks up at Maerwyn.
"Yes." Maerwyn kisses Medea deeply as the sun comes up over the horizon. The two lovers hold each other in embrace for a long while and the rest of the party starts down the slope and towards the next one without them.
"Please! No more mountains!" Sir Plutarch groans coming up the last mountain ridge which the party has been ascending the past two hours.
"This is the last one Pluto, just hills from here!" Sir Jaquavis laughs and pats his friend on the back.
"Let's at least take a break!" Sir Plutarch collapses into the snow sinks deep in his heavy armor.
The party sets up a small fire and cooks some food everybody and rests for the next few hours as the early morning sun rises in the sky. Trollz merrily frolics around the mountain top in the snow. Medea and Maerwyn sit apart holding each other and talking intimately about their wedding and the looming confrontation with Medea's father. The three legionnaires and Cassandra and Asher share a meal.
Trollz gleefully slides down the slope a little in the snow past the view of the party. Getting up and doing a trolldance he runs around in some circles before falling down and rolling around happily in the snow. Trollz closes his eyes rolling around in the cold relief of the snow on his back and for once he almost can remember what his home was like, a dank cave, and his brother Trollz whom M'aiq the Liar had killed, and his father Trollz, and his mother Trollz. He remembers his mother Trollz bringing him and his brother Trollz some tasty rat meats as a little Trollz pup.
Sitting up starkly Trollz sniffs the air and unmistakably across the crisp wintry air he can smell the roasting of a rat, or at least something not dissimilar from a rat. Curious, hungry, and nostalgic Trollz ambles towards the scent. As he approaches he sees a large bonfire several feet high. Around the fire are spits of roasting skeevers. Trollz when he sees the massive bonfire, instinctively lurches back at the sight of fire, but having become used to it his anxiety settles and he cautiously approaches the roasting skeever. It smells quite like a rat, but looks a bit different, bigger and longer. Trollz shaking with fear of the bonfire, puts forth his hand and quickly takes the skeever off the spit and retreats away from the fire next to a rock and bites into it. It is delicious to Trollz and he devours the whole thing. Noticing a new smell right next to him Trollz rummages curiously through some large sacks sitting out with a bunch of mammoth cheese in them and he devours them merrily.
Rolling over Trollz lets out a loud belch which is answered by a curious and loud grunt from the other side of the fire. Suddenly the ground begins to shake and a figure of a massive man stands up, and walking around the huge bonfire, looks down at Trollz. The giant's crude club is held slack in it's hand and it bends over taking a curious look at Trollz not quite sure what to make of him. Trollz looks back up at the giant and taking the half eaten skeever from the ground puts it before the giant as a sorta offering. The giant looks at the half eaten skeever and looks at the spits by the fire and then looks back at Trollz. Like trolls the giants are semi-sentient animals and it doesn't take the brute much brain power to figure out Trollz has eaten his skeever. Letting out a terrible roar the giant swings his club, connecting it squarely to Trollz chest and sending him flying hundreds of feet into the air. Trollz looks out at much of Skyrim his chest aching and then bins rapidly falling back to the ground.
The glow of a minor featherfalling 25 spells connects with Trollz sent from below by Cassandra, it is not enough to stop his fall from leaving him unhurt, but it cushions his fall enough to save him. Trollz lands near the party that has readied itself at the sound of the giant's roar. With a frightful thud Trollz hits the ground unconscious with just a sliver of life in him. The ground shakes as the giant with massive strides runs in at the three legionnaires, Cassandra, and Asher. Sir Plutarch takes a mighty swing of his hammer which the giant blocks. Sir Jaquavis manages to get a few cuts in at the creature's legs before it rounds on him making him back off. With a minor backhanded swing the giant's cudgel connects to Sir Mazog's shield, knocking the orc down to the ground. Asher dances in a thrusts his spear up into the giant's face gouging its eye out. Bloodcurdling roars escape the giant and it brings its hammer down with such force it sends all five of the heroes to the ground stunned. Enraged the giant holds its hammer up high preparing a certain death stroke against Asher.
Around a corner Maerwyn and Medea appear having heard the commotion and come running. Maerwyn looses an arrow striking the giant in the wrist causing it to drop the club as its tendon is partially sever and its hand goes rigid. The giant looks up just in time to see the wood elf discharge another arrow which hits it dead in the other good eye. Just as the giant is about to let out another wounded cry Medea casts the Finger of the Mountain, it connect squarely with Maerwyn's arrow in the giant's eye like a lightning rod sending a massive shock straight to its brain. Sir Plutarch hastily jumps up and pulls Sir Jaquavis off the ground before the dead giant, falling backwards, almost collapses on top him.
Everyone rushes over to Trollz who is still unconscious on the ground. Maerwyn looks down at the ugly bruise on Trollz chest and recoils. He lowers his ears to Trollz mouth and detects the faintest of breaths. Trollz is still alive, but having been knocked down the 5 HP is fast knocked out while his inherent ability as a troll to regenerate heals him. Sir Plutarch and Sir Mazog picks Trolls up between them and the party slowly moves into the giant camp of Stonehill Bluff. Cassandra casts life detection and this camp is cleared though in the distance she points out another giant camp, Blizzard Rest, and a large mammoth herd below.
The party quietly settles into this camp and loots it for some food and rests and heals for the night. They make use of the bonfire to stay warm, and finding some decent treasures in the giant's chest, mostly some coin and jewelry that they intend to sell. Trollz recuperates through the night and becomes conscious and is fed late at night and is laid back down to get some more rest.by Cassandra whom looks after him and casts minor heal every now and then on him. Below them in the distance Whiterun sits quietly in full view. Maerwyn and Medea hold each other through the night by the bonfire looking out at their destiny ahead of them.
Whiterun 18th Sun's Dawn, 4E 203
"What is your business in Whiterun?" Asks a city guard at the gate of Whiterun. Other guards appear on the walls and surround the party, eying them curiously for their motley appearance and size as a group.
"I am on official business with my colleagues here for the Imperial Legion. We come from Dawnstar of Hjaalmarch0 and we wish to rest here before continuing south to alert the The Emperor of Tamriel of important news regarding the Akaviri Invasion and the aftermath of the Battle of Baan Malur. Great redoran allowed some of the Tsaesci to depart and these supposedly were engaged by Ardoland. However another contingent of Akaviri, the Tang Mo led by one named Yingdo, was allowed to also escape, going the opposite way westward, and presumably south towards Valenwood, but what their real intentions or landing may be, or if more Akavir will show up, we do not know. You may bear this message to your Jarl, the Jarl of Dawnstar under Hjaalmarch0 was told the same report I have now told you and dispatched some men to guard Tamriel's coast." Sir Mazog at the head of the party when they reached the gates speaks boldly and plainly.
"The Empire you say...." The guards around the party move their hands to their weapons but do not yet draw them. The captain of the guard continues, "Whiterun has not yet submitted to the Empire nor to any of the factions fighting over Skyrim. It's not that we dislike the Empire, indeed many Imperial agents are here, as well as Storcloaks, Hjaalmarch0, Northern skyrim, and Skyrim And Nordic Peoples folks. Envoys and civilians are welcome, but I cannot allow soldiers from either party into the city. We fear the presence of so large a number of armed Imperial Legionnaires may disrupt the peace here. We must keep the balance."
"Please good captain, we understand your concern. I am a born citizen of Whiterun." Medea comes forward beseeching the guard. "I am Medea Thundermoon, daughter of Madai Thundermoon of the Companions."
"You may enter then ma'am to see your father, but I cannot allow a whole army into the city." The guards look at each other recognizing Medea and her dad's names.
"Good captain, the reason I am come is to see my father about being married, my travelling companions must be allowed to enter with me." Medea tries a persuasion check on the captain, but it fails.
"I'm sorry ma'am I cannot allow the Imperial Legion soldiers of all the people into Whiterun, the balance of influence in the city from all the countries of Skyrim is too fragile I must keep the peace.....And by the Nine, is that a troll you're travelling with?!" Pointing to Trollz, the guard captain looks at them with some bemusement.
"Good captain..." Medea breathlessly pleas but the captain interrupts her.
"I'll tell you what, I know of your father's hard reputation and how hard it will be to ask him to let you be married. I remembered you plainly before as a little girl playing up at the Reach with the court wizards. You can bring in your fiancé, but he has to take off his Imperial Legion armor and insignia." The captain's expression softens and points to Sir Plutarch, mistaking him to be Medea's fiancé.
"Oh...he...no...My fiancé is this man." Medea blushes and puts her arm around Maerwyn nudging him forward some.
"A Wood Elf man and a Nord woman?" says one guard to the side with a tone of scandal. "Outrageous!" says another. Cassandra being a Breton a race that is the result of elfkind and mankind mixing blushes ashamed at the guards continued remarks quietly.
"I see....You two may enter." The Captain holds up his hand silencing his subordinates and giving them all a stern look from beneath his helmet.
"Oh white N'Wah I have a request of you." Asher steps forward haughtily in his full Ashland tribal outfit he makes some impression to the guards. "This wood elf and this Nordic woman saved my daughter from slavery during the Argonian Invasion of Morrowind last year, enabling her to marry a strong warrior of my tribe back home in Morrowind. I have pledged myself to defend the two in their bid to seek the approval of her father in accordance to all sacred law and custom. I must be allowed to enter the city with them to fulfill my oath."
"Very well, I suppose with a man like Madai that when he tells this elf no that he may need some protection, but that is all I can allow. The remainder of you can rough it outside the city with the Khajit merchants if you like, or else Riverwood is not far from here and is a safe enough journey I imagine for as many people as you all." The captain nods to Asher and the other guards accompany the rest of the party just past the drawbridge into Whiterun where some townsfolk, farmers, and Khajit travelling merchants have some tents and produce stands set up. Here Trollz transforms into a chicken and Asher scoops him up into his arms and sneaks him into the city following after Medea and Maerwyn.
Clanging of smiths' hammers echoes around the city of Whiterun. As Maerwyn, Medea, Asher, and Trollz concealed in chicken form pass through the street Medea stops to pause in front of a house. She puts her hand on the door and sighs, her eyes well up with some tears. Maerwyn puts his arm around her and hugs her and they continue on to the main market area of the city. Here Maerwyn sells off the minor treasures they have found at the giant's camp a couple days a go.
Continuing up the large stone steps to the higher area of Whiterun, the sound of a preacher for Talos greets their ears. The large and famous tree, Gildergreen, of Whiterun overlooks the scene. Medea takes a seat on a bench as various Nordic people pass by to their homes, or up another flight of stairs to the Dragonsreach, the longhouse which is the seat of the city's government. Nearby in the Reach's shadow is the Temple of Kynareth.
Maerwyn enters the Temple of Kynareth. He emerges not long after with a priestess following him. Bending down on one knee to Medea seated he takes her hand and she looks at him surprised. Maerwyn then presents to her an amulet of Mara which he has just purchased from the priestess. Asher stands up respectfully to the side and smiles.
"Medea Thundermoon, I Maerwyn Greenleaf of Valenwood, present you this token of Mara before the priestess of Kynareth and the witness of the Divines. Will you marry me?" Maerwyn proposes to Medea, who has happy tears in her eyes as she picks up the amulet of Mara and puts it around her neck.
"Yes of course!" Medea kisses Maerwyn and the two hold eachother happily.
"All that is left now my child is to ask her hand of her father and I shall conduct the ceremony." The high priestess of Kynareth smiles at the two lovers. They all turn around to face the short road leading to the Companions' hold, Jorrvaskr where the clanging of more smiths can be heard.
"Oy Madai, you have visitors!" A Companion laughs yelling across the ancient Nordic hall as he conducts the guests into the main feasting room of the legendary fighters.
A powerfully built and muscular Nordic man with bright blonde hair rises out of his seat at the feasting table and turns about. Tattoos line his exposed strong arms leading presumably to his chest beneath a light armored cuirass. Madai has a handsome face and much of his look along with his blonde hair are very similar to his daughter Medea. There is though a sort of wildness about his eyes, as if an eternally fierce and hungry animal lies beneath them. He stands tall, even for a Nord, towering and his eyes fix on his daughter immediately.
"You have come back." Madai says coldly looking at his daughter with some scorn in his eyes.
"Sir I have come to...."Maerwyn steps forward boldly and begins to speak but is silenced immediately.
"Oh look the elf. I heard you had survived and gained the gift of Hircine and you repay me by running off with my daughter?! You are a fool to stand before me now, I'll give you one minute just for what little courage a weakling like you has shown to walk out of here alive." Madai barks at Maerwyn, a savage grin plays across his face as he snaps his mouth shut.
"I declare my love for you daughter and have come to ask your blessing to marry her!" Maerwyn stands his ground defiantly and shouts back at Madai.
"You what?!" Madai's teeth clench as first in anger and then his face twists into a laugh and he guffaws for a solid minute with the other Companions nearby. "You? You came all the way here to ask me to marry my daughter after running off with her? You really are a fool!" Madai's fierce countenance resumes and he withdraws his axe.
"We don't need your permission father, we just have to ask you in front of the Divine's representative." Medea shouts back some tears in her eyes and looks over at the priestess of Kynareth.
"So you brought the priestess of the Temple thinking that would stop me." Madai laughs madly and then suddenly lurches forward swinging his axe down at Maerwyn.
Asher drops Trollz and deftly steps forward pulling his spear up into his hands as he steps. In the split second blink of an eye the Dunmer chief raises the spear with both hands blocking the blow just below the axehead. The two men's arms quake as Madai's presses forward with his great strength. Asher drops his arms some a Maerwyn steps back and the Dunmer chieftain delivers a kick into Madai's waist staggering him backwards. The other Companions rise from their seats and withdraw their weapons.
"Let the boy fight me like a man!" Madai bellows angrily at Asher.
"I will fight you on behalf of the young man for my oath. He is noble and brought to me my daughter and let her be married. Give him your blessing if I win." Asher challenges Madai and moves in front of him in fighting stance, spear poised.
"Who are you to talk to me thus in my land about my family you interloping Dark Elf?" Madai sneers at Asher. "I won't let a coward that has others fight on his behalf marry my daughter. I will kill you too if you stand in my way again!"
Madai steps forward again and Asher jumps forward to meet him. Asher thrust his spear at Madai's face, but the Nord turns his face in time to dodge it and with his free hand reaches up and grasps the spear and snaps off the end with just his one hand. Closing the distance between them Madai slams his fist into Asher's surprised face while running into him, knocking the old Dunmer warrior to the ground. Madai reposes himself and swings with his axe at Maerwyn hitting him in the face with the flat side of the axe and staggering him.
Madai prepares a power blow to chop into Maerwyn when several things happen at once. Trollz in chicken form begins writhing and twisting and transforming. At the same time Medea discharges the Finger of the Mountain at her own father. Madai reacts just in time to dodge the lethal spell which blows a chair to splinters across the mead hall. Madai recomposes himself and dodging an ill aimed punch by Maerwyn pushes the wood elf off balance a prepares his axe to bite his back.
Just then Trollz, back in his normal trollform tackles Madai to the ground. Surprised the Nord stars swinging both of his fists, dropping his axe, decking out at Trollz. On top of him Trollz recovers and fends off the blows and punches back down at Madai. Maerwyn rushes forward and pulls Trollz off his would be father-in-law and the two topple over backwards. Madai gets up picking his axe up as he leaps to his feet quit agilely for such a big man. His fierce sneer turns for just a second to one of curiosity as he sees the troll's back and recognizes the Savior's Hide of Hircine.
"Where did the troll come from?" Madai barks at Maerwyn allowing him and Trollz to get to their feet.
"He is my friend." Maerwyn states.
"That beast transformed right in front of our eyes Madai, we all saw it!" One of the Companions steps forward looking at Trollz amazed and the other Companions in the hall whom have been watching the brawl speak up agreeing.
"I wondered why I smelled Hircine's Gift in the room, but yet not on you." Madai snarls at Maerwyn.
"Yes I cured that curse, but I couldn't cure it for Trollz." Maerwyn states warily looking around at the Companions, many of which he knows are secretly werewolves.
"Coward!" Madai barks. "How can you give up the Gift?! And how can a troll have it...….unless...." Madai's eyes falls on Trollz and he thinks of the Savior's Hide.
"Hircine cursed Trollz when Maerwyn freed me from dreadful Daedra's cult. We seek to cure him, perhaps you know of a way." Medea steps forward and talking past her father asks the other Companions whom look at Trollz more seriously and with great curiosity.
"Do not speak of lord Hircine like that brat! Hircine has gifted this beast....Why? How can this be we have faithfully served him all our lives?" Madai's expression is dismayed but he hardens it again thinking to himself of the Savior's Hide which the other Companions seem to have not noticed.
"H-Hirseen bad!" Trollz bellows and all the Companions jump back a little bit in surprise.
"The beast speaks!?" One Companion says aloud incredulously.
"Seeing that you are determined to defy and dishonor me no matter what I do, I will let you marry this pathetic excuse of an elf...."Madai turns back to his daughter Medea and the two, father and daughter with the same eyes, hair, and facial features look back at eachother in silence for a while. "...But on a condition. This troll, and the blessing of Hircine which he carries if I can cure him belong to me."
"I cannot give Trollz to anyone he is his own person he is not just a mere animal." Maerwyn protests.
"Hmm, some nobility at least. I don't mean the beast itself, for all the beasts belong to the Lord of the Hunt! I mean that which it carries, the blessing which I think both you and I know is allowing this creature to partake in the blessing of lycanthropy." Madai looks at Maerwyn subtly hinting he demands the Savior's Hide as a dowry.
"You can cure him? We tried with the Wolfsbane Potion, but it did not work on him." Maerwyn questions.
"Yes, this sort of thing requires a special ritual. The Wolfsbane Potion only really works on those that have acquired Hircine's blessing through the bite." One of the older Companions nods, noticing the Savior's Hide on Trollz too.
"A special ritual indeed..." Madai gives a wild sort of smirk. "Very well then, prepare the wedding to be held near the Sleeping Tree Camp. We will hold the wedding and remove the blessing of lord Hircine from the beast there in the same day."
Issue: Iron-Breaker Mine collapses in Dawnstar!
At 9 pm, Tirdas, 21st Day of Sun's Dawn, the Iron-Breaker mine collapses in Dawnstar, The Pale Hold trapping 1,260 miners. The Collapse shook the entire city like an earthquake. The Pale Hold Residence went to the mine and tries to rescue the miners trapped inside, The Pale Hold Jarl requests national assistance from the Hjaalmarch Hold, The Winterhold, and the High King. Jarl of Hjaalmarch Hold sent 300 guards, The Winterhold sent 125 guards, and the High King sent himself along with 1,000 Winstad soldiers to help with the rescue operation. 16 hours later, the reinforcements from the other Holds and the Winstad Royal Army has arrived. We Interviewed the High King about this tragedy in Dawnstar and he had this to say, "I am here to show our people that I will not stand by at my Manor and hear about this tragedy, I will come to aid my people myself alone if I wished to, We will get the survivors out of that mine and we will rebuild that mine with better supports, better management, and easy shifts to make sure the miners get out of the mine at a specific time." Due to the Iron-Breaker Mine collapse, the prices of Iron has skyrocketed throughout the Kingdom making it difficult for some Hjaalmarians to buy Iron made products. The Jarl of the Pale Hold demands the workers of the Quicksilver mine to stop mining and help with the rescue operation, the owner of the Mine sends 450 miners to support but keeps the 600 miners inside to keep mining Quicksilver. Due to the time-spending on rescuing the Iron-Breaker miners, the Jarl and the High King has no time to argue with people, so they let it go and continue attempting to rescue the Iron-Breaker Miners. The operation could take weeks maybe even months but we all hope to the Divines that they will come out of this alive. We interviewed the owner of the Quicksilver and he had this to say, "I feel bad for the miners in the Iron-Breaker mine, I do, but however, this does not give me a good reason to stop our mining operation. This is a big thing for us since the competition is temporarily out of commission, Hjaalmarians can start buying more Quicksilver! Think of the Septims we could make with these. I sent at least 400 something miners to help the operation that should be enough people to help but I'm not going to send all my miners."
What a tragic day for The Pale Hold this week. We will continue to update this tragedy every week.
Hjaalmarian Courier Dawnstar Post, 4E 203, 22nd day of Sun's Dawn.
(Just to let you guys who are new know. I usually don't rp, and haven't in a very very long time. I'm much too busy and spend my vital time i do have on NS with administrative duties and double checking to make sure the region rums smoothly. Though i do encourage members to step up and lead the region, i will still act as Emperor. I take more pleasure in serving the people and making sure our region is guided in the right direction and protected from raiders. On that note, i hope our roleplaying world continues to kick off and everyone is having fun. ^_^ )
(Just curious; was there going to be any time skip at the end of the month? I figure I will finish off Trollz' Second Saga here in two more posts.)
I could but I think I'm too new to the region to take charge of it, I'm also a roleplayer but I'm also starting a real-life country with 25 other people, I'm the Prime Minister. I didn't want to post anything about the country since this is a roleplay group. But I am running a real-life country and no its not "Hjaalmarch".
Wedding Day 24th Sun's Dawn, 4E 203
Bells chime throughout the city of Whiterun as the day draws towards its end. After about a week of preparation the wedding is set. Maerwyn and company sit inside the Companion's hall as the bells begin to sound, signaling that the bride and the clergy are passing though. Madai stands up and glances over at Maerwyn with a long silent and serious look. Madai exitd the Companion's hall and join Medea and the priestess and head for the Sleeping Tree Camp ahead of the groom.
After about an hour elapses and the bride's entourage are well past Whiterun, the bells begin to chime again. Maerwyn nervously looks up, he is dressed in fine clothing. Asher and a few Companions nod to him that it is okay for him to start on his way now. Maerwyn, Trollz, and Asher exit the hold and rendezvous with Sirs Mazog, Jaquavis, and Plutarch. Cassandra has gone ahead with Medea to serve as a maid of honor. The group marches towards Sleeping Tree Camp, which is about an hour's walk away from Whiterun.
A beautiful red sunset plays across the sky as the party reaches the Sleeping Tree Camp. A small group of Companions stand around, the priestess of Kynareth behind an altar looks ahead at Maerwyn and gives him a smile. Madai stands by looking stern-faced with Cassandra off to his side wearing a pretty blue dress. The three Imperial Legionnaires and Asher take their spots as the groomsmen. Trollz gives a happy trollshriek of excitement and sits down by the glowing tree which the camp is named after.
Maerwyn looks up as he walks out of a tent and sees Medea standing in front of the altar with her father by her side. Her white wedding gown hangs elegantly about her. Her blonde hair is done up in an elegant knot. Her large beautiful eyes stare out from under her veil and a mirthful smile plays across her plushy lips. Medea is simply stunning.
"We are gathered here today to witness the union of two souls in marriage." The priestess of Kynareth begins as Maerwyn walks up to the altar and takes Medea's hands in his own. "The bride and the groom may now read their vows to eachother."
"Medea, I vow to love you through thick and thin, through every adventure we have shared and will share hereafter. You have been my love through my darkest times, and you have been my love in my happiest times. For sickness you loved me, and in health you loved me. I vow to love you until my last day." Maerwyn reads off a little paper he had written on, stumbling a little bit for nervousness, before finishing.
"Maerwyn, I vow to love you for the rest of my life. I will follow you wherever you lead me, whether in hardship or good times. I love you with all my heart and I will never abandon your side as your wife for as long as we both shall live." Medea smiles.
"If there are any objections to why these two should be married, speak now, or forever hold your peace." The Priestess of Kynareth says looking over the small crew, and casting a long glance at Madai, whom says nothing. "Then by the power invested in me by the Divines, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May you love each other until death does you part."
Maerwyn lifts the veil over Medea's large eyes and she blushes looking back up into his eyes. Drawing Medea to him Maerwyn embraces her in a long kiss, sealing their matrimony in each other's lips. Maerwyn clasps Medea hand and the newlyweds descend the altar. As they reach the bottom step suddenly Madai cries out.
"Til death do they part indeed!" Madai shouts and with a fluid motion retrieves his axe from his side.
Madai lifts his axe up, preparing to bring it down on Maerwyn as his back is turned. In a fluid motion Sir Jaquavis jumps in front of Madai and lifts up his arms with a shout of warning to his friend. Bringing down the axe with a furious swing, the edge of the axe rends off Sir Jaquavis' left arm just below the elbow. A terrible scream issues from the Redguard warrior as his hacked off arm falls to the ground, the terrible wound gushing blood, he passes out from the shock and massive loss of blood.
Sir Plutarch, seeing his friend lose his arm, tackles Madai. The burly Imperial quite forcefully knocks Madai from the altar and the two begin to tussle on the ground exchanging punches. Four Companions that had come also to the wedding unsheathe their weapons. Medea discharges the Finger of the Mountain into one, ending his life in a flash before he can swing his terrible war hammer. Another Companion begins to attack Sir Mazog. The orc without his shield and sword dodges and ducks the assault, but finally with a sickening crack of the Companion's mace, the young orc Legionnaire falls limp to the ground unconscious. Trollz leaps in before the Companion can finish off Sir Mazog, and begins pummeling the assailant to death.
The other two Companions are attacking Asher whom, artfully bops and weaves through them. Asher finds an opening and dashes past them and they give him a pursuit. Asher runs up the glowing tree and with a mighty leap bounds into the dying branches of the tree. With a tremendous snap he breaks off a branch of the Sleeping Tree and jumps from the tree in a rapid motion just as the Companions reach him. The Dunmer chieftain lands on one of his opponents, his feet planted into the chest of his foe, floors the Companion to the ground, and at the same time with a fluid strike, Asher drives the branch through the man's skull. The other Companion rounds on Asher and the two begin to duel.
Madai delivers a series of thunderous punches to Sir Plutarch's face, breaking his nose, and knocking the portly Imperial unconscious. Madai looks up to see Medea, Maerwyn, Cassandra, and the Priestess of Kynareth fleeing back towards Whiterun. The Nord warrior retrieves his axe from the ground and bolts after them as the sky turns to twilight. Trollz after finishing off his foe notices this and jumps up and bounds after Madai, intercepting him. The two begin to fight ferociously. Trollz lands several strong blows on Madai, causing him to drop his axe. Madai delivers a strong kick to Trollz forcing him back. The two again begin to fight hand to hand. Madai is strong for a man, and musclebound, he takes several punches from Trollz, while delivering a few back. Staggering Trollz with a few punches Madai retrieves his axe. As Madai and Trollz prepare to square off again, suddenly Madai gives out a loud yell as a small throwing knife hits his shoulder from behind. Madai turns about to see Maerwyn standing by with Medea.
"It's over father, give up." Medea pleads to her father as Asher, after finishing his duel victoriously, dashes over and Cassandra powers up a spell.
"You disgraceful brat! You dishonor me, your own father!" Madai snarls back at Medea. "I will sacrifice you to Hircine and take the Savior's Hide and become a beast forever!"
"You will do nothing of the sort, please cease this madness.....father." Maerwyn boldly steps forward.
"You coward I would be ashamed to call you my son! You all ready lost!" Madai barks back and looks up at the darkening sky with a laugh. The moons faint light is shown as the sunset passes into night. Once he sees the light of the moons Madai hunches over and with a yell begins to transform.
Asher seeing Madai weakened as he transforms bids the others to run for it. The Dunmer chieftain and Trollz begin to attack Madai in the midst of his transformation, hurting him badly. However, Madai completes his transformation, and the blonde-maned werewolf recovers and turns on them. Asher whacks the werewolf form Madai with the branch, but this seems to have little effect. Madai body slams Asher and then leaps up and engages Trollz. The two go hand to hand again, or in this case, hand to claw. In his werewolf form Madai is much physically stronger, and so his blows to Trollz wear his opponent down much easier. As Trollz begins to lose, Asher charges in and attempts to tackle Madai, but in his werewolf form being much taller and bulkier, this doesn't do much besides knock Madai off balance. The furious werewolf rounds on Asher and grabbing the Ashland Chieftain, he raises Asher high into the air. In a movement too quick to stop, Madai slams Asher down onto his knee, breaking the proud Dunmer's back and killing him almost instantly.
Trollz lets out a terrible cry seeing the old Dunmer chieftain perish, his raspy voice never to be heard again. The others from a distance gasp and tears run down their faces. Madai casts aside Asher's broken body and rounds on Trollz. Trollz driven by emotion launches himself at the werewolf. Colliding in a furious storm of punches, claws, and teeth the two clash so violently it is imperceptible as to who is winning. Maerwyn bids Cassandra, Medea, and the Priestess of Kynareth to continue on to Whiterun. Running forward Maerwyn delivers a flying kick to Madai backing the werewolf up. Madai growls at Maerwyn before jumping on to him and tearing Maerwyn's flesh and fine clothing to shreds.
The poor wood elf is not matched for a werewolf and he is mangled badly before Trollz intervenes attacking Madai again. Maerwyn tries to lift himself a little to tell Trollz to run, but Madai, with a sickening thud, stomps his face straight back into the ground. Launching himself at Trollz the two wrestle once again, but exhausted, Trollz' strength is giving out. Throwing Trollz off of him, Madai dances wildly around Trollz until he finds an opening. Lurching in suddenly the werewolf jumps onto Trollz back, biting him in the neck and sinking his claws into Trollz back under the Savior's Hide. Trollz utters a terrifying trollscream as Madai with great force tears the Savior Hide off of Trollz' back. With a strong kick to the raw back of Trollz, he sends him to the ground.
Madai lets out a howl of victory holding the Savior's Hide up to the moons. Bounding after his daughter, he overtakes the women quickly near the outskirts of Whiterun. Madai viciously murders the Priestess of Kynareth, tearing her apart.
"Father, no!---" Medea cries, tears streaming from her eyes, but a backhand from her father knocks her unconscious. Madai does likewise to Cassandra, and throwing both women over his shoulders, he bounds off into the night towards the mountain, the Throat of the World.
Sir Plutarch recovers and runs over to his comrade, Sir Jaquavis. The Redguard is pale and unconscious from blood loss, but is still drawing short breaths. Sir Plutarch binds the bloody stump of his left arm and picks him up and casts his special magic spell Wind Walks on Water, to hastily run his friend to the safety of Whiterun before turning back around to come help the others.
Sir Mazog groggily gets to his feet with a soaring headache as Sir Plutarch revives him upon returning to the grisly scene. The two legionnaires spot Trollz crawling gingerly along the ground in the distance and walk up him. Sir Mazog shudders and turns his face weeping seeing Trollz raw fleshed back where he has been flayed by Madai. Trollz creeps closer to a body. Casting a small illumination spell, Sir Plutarch notices it is Maerwyn. Badly mangled Maerwyn is a bloodied mess and the two legionnaires look away, tears welling in their eyes. Trollz collapses near Maerwyn and puts an arm on him.
"F-f-friend." Trollz stammers weakly.
"Trollz…….you can save yourself....you can transform one more time. P-please Trollz, drink my blood and turn into me. You deserve to be human more than most. Just, please.....save Medea." Maerwyn says in a near whisper to his friend before his head falls limp unconscious.
Trollz lifts himself up a little bit and pulls himself by Maerwyn. Reaching his arm into Maerwyn's pack he retrieves something. Bending his face down near Maerwyn's bloody chest, Trollz takes a nibble. Using his last transformation from the Curse of Hircine, Trollz lets out a sigh and his body begins to contort as he makes his final transformation.
Skin regrows on his back, then the fine green troll hair, in the mark of T sprouts up on his back. The skin and the rest of his fur turn pale green and then suddenly white. Trollz gets to his knees as he feels strength re-enter him. His form grows taller, his arms become stronger and more sinewy, his simple Cyrolodic troll face, warps into more defined brow and features. Trollz finishes his final transformation becoming forever a Frost Troll after eating the troll fat found in Maerwyn's sack.
Trollz, now in frost troll form, feels the greater regeneration ability of a frost troll begin to heal him from within. Sir Mazog and Sir Plutarch recover Asher's body. Taking off some of his tribal ornaments, they make a pyre all throughout the night and burn the Dunmer's boy in accordance to his own tribe's ceremonies.
As the legionnaires hold Asher's funeral, Trollz deposits Maerwyn at the gate of Whiterun. The guards, not recognizing him, especially now that he is a frost troll, drive him away and take Maerwyn's body to the healers. Trollz casts a glance at the Throat of the World, sensing the werewolf's trail leading up there, and runs off towards the mountain, alone, in pursuit.