Hey guys!
After a month of constant screenshotting, I have finally made it. A scene a day every day! It went very well, though I did miss a week when I went home for Thanksgiving. However, it worked out, and I managed to get the final shot done on November 30th! Expect a lot of content rolling out these next few weeks now all the way to the conclusion of chapter three!
So how will this work exactly? Though there are technically only two acts left in his chapter, there is going to be 8 or 9 total entries. Some of the parts will be quite long, some will be much shorter than normal. Just keep in mind that though they are divided, they are to be considered a full act.
So let's cut my little pre-spiel and get right into this.
It's time to begin: The Hunt.
Previously on: The Frost of Ages
(From: Chapter Three Act One: The Word of a Deceiver)
Malkor: Is this really the best you can do?
Malkor: The great Taeyva! Witch of Hircine! Leader of the Glenmoril Wyrd! Dead in the Drajkmyr Marsh.
Malkor: How far you've fallen. You used to have an entire coven behind you, hundreds of warriors who'd die for you. Now? Some wolves. You are alone, Taeyva.
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(From: Chapter Three Act Three: The Hunt, The Hunger, and The Hallowed Moon)
Hircine: Oblivion has tumbled into a pit of political turmoil. The forces contending for control over Nirn have become the leaders in a set of alliances.
Hircine: I have openly defied Boethiah's and Bal's ambitions from the start, but that is not enough to get the other Princes to follow me.
Hircine: That, my Prophet, is where you come in.
Hircine: It is time to begin The Hunt.
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(From: Chapter Three Act Three: The Hunt, The Hunger, and The Hallowed Moon)
Taeyva: That's it! I don't care if you don't like me, Torund. Because nobody likes me, not Hircine's worshipers, not his loyal hunters, not even my own people!
Taeyva: I'm the leader of the Glenmoril Wyrd, right? Well guess what? They threw me out five years ago! Hircine's chosen prophet may be their leader, but that doesn't mean they have to follow me.
Taeyva: They said I was too weak, that I was a disgrace and a failure. Well I'm not too weak. I am stronger than anyone realizes. But these chains suppress that strength. These damn cursed chains!
Taeyva: Chains that you were supposed to remove!
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(From: Chapter Three Act Three: The Hunt, The Hunger, and The Hallowed Moon)
Torund: Mmmm. You've got moxie, I'll give you that. I won't say I like you, but...
Taeyva: But?
Torund: But I'm willing to see what you can do. So don't blow it.
Taeyva: I'll take it. So I assume you know how to sail a ship, right?
The sturdy, wooden door closes with a muffled thump. A gust of cold wind slips through the opening just in time, only to be blasted back by a blazing burst of heat, building atop brittle logs.
Chad shivers from his head to his toes as the two temperatures collided against his bare skin. His lips flutter as a loud exhale passes his lips. He opens his eyes, turning to face the hearth, and a surge of impassioned warmth begins to radiate from his core.
Chad: Hello gorgeous. Something smells delicious in here!
Standing before the hearth, Sabrina works over a large pot filled with a hearty stew. She stirs the ladle around the edges, mixing chunks of venison, carrots, and leeks, in a rhythmic motion that could almost be described as a dance. As Chad comes in, a smile crosses her lips and she cranes her head to face him, still churning the stew.
Sabrina: It better! I've spent an hour on this already. How did it go? Get anything this time?
Chad wraps his fingers over his head and stretches out his arms while giving a nonchalant shrug.
Chad: Nah, everything is still too skittish to hunt very easily.
Chad: But we saw a lot more elk this time. Seems we won't have to wait for the frost to end after all.
Chad struts over and tenderly wraps his arm across Sabrina's waist.
Chad: Speaking of which, I'm pretty cold after being outside all day. Maybe you could warm me up?
Sabrina smirks, keeping her attention on the pot.
Sabrina: After spending all day in the cold it's probably shriveled up smaller than the baby carrots I put in the stew. I think I'll wait.
Chad guffaws at the retort. He returns his arms to his side and meanders over to the bed.
Chad: Ouch! I see how it is.
Sabrina: Oh relax, you baby! Dinner will be ready soon anyway and I don't want it to get cold.
Chad reaches the bed and slings his bow off his back. He balances it in his hand, bobbing it up and down. It teeters slightly, but doesn't sway. Each end balances the other as a result of the expertly crafted woodwork.
Chad: I suppose that's a fair trade. In fact, I might even like your cooking more right now.
Sabrina raises an eyebrow.
Sabrina: I can't tell if that's a compliment or not.
Chad chuckles.
Chad: It's whatever you want it to be, baby.
Sabrina scoffs and shakes her head.
Sabrina: Keep it up and you won't be getting either, mist-
She cuts off as Chad suddenly goes quiet. She turns away from the stew, scraping the bits that cling to the ladle against the side of the pot.
Chad hunches over at the foot of the bed, his eyes glued to his hand being gripped tightly by the other. She can hear his breaths; heavy and strained, like a suppressed cough.
Sabrina: Chad? What's wrong?
Chad: No... no no no. Not now. I-it's not time.
Sabrina gulps and carefully walks towards him. She can barely understand his rapid muttering through the croaked breathing.
Sabrina: Sweetie? Talk to me. Please.
His mumbling continues, unaffected.
Chad: It happened last week. T-this shouldn't be possible.
Sucking in a breath, Sabrina raises her hand to comfort him. Her fingers caress his warm, goose bump covered skin. As she tries to move in closer, Chad straightens up in a jolt and hollers out.
Chad: Get back!
Sabrina: Wha-
Sabrina staggers back in fright. Before she can regain her footing, Chad spins around, exposing his palms in defense.
Chad: Oh no. Sabrina, I'm so sorry. Y-you have to go, okay? Sabrina?
Each words flies in one ear and out the next. Her hands fly to her lips in shock as she stares at the man before her and the unrecognizable eyes that stare back.
Chad: Baby? Please, listen to me. I can explain later, but right now you have to go.
Sabrina: Why are your eyes like that? W-who are you?
Chad: It's me. It's still me, I promise. Just-gah!
Chad falls to his knees as a wave of pain and nausea overcomes him.
Chad: Agh! What the fuck is going on... This... This isn't normal...
Sabrina: Wh-wh-what is h-happening?
Chad grits his teeth. The world around him starts to dull into muted tones of black and white.
Chad: Sabrina... Grah! You... You need to leave.
Sabrina: But... Ch-Chad... I-
Chad: Get out of here! Now!
Another wave of nausea hits, dropping him to all fours. His head starts to spin and his gut urges him to reel. He forces his eyes open, every instinct screaming at him to squeeze them shut, and yells out one last time.
Chad: Get away from me!
The outburst is enough to force Sabrina to move. In a rush, she stumbles backwards in attempt to flee towards the door, connecting with the chair behind her. Her feet leave the ground as her body is sent sprawling backwards.
She smacks onto the floor with a jarring thud.
Sabrina: Ugh... Ow...
Her head rings and the shock from the fall is enough to knock some sense back into her. Chad's warnings pop back into her head and she frantically tries to get back on her feet. Yet as soon as she opens her eyes, her body freezes.
Sabrina: Wh-wha...
Sabrina: AAAAHHHHH!
Six hours earlier...
Taeyva's fingers scrape against the splintering, moist deck of the Northern Maiden. A groan passes her lips as consciousness creeps back into her.
Taeyva: Ugh...
Taeyva: Damn it, Torund.
She pushes herself up too quickly causing her vision to blur. The world around her teeters, slowly and methodically, like waves crashing against the shore. She somehow clambers to a sitting position and everything starts to spin more blindingly. If she didn't know better, she'd believe she and Torund were still at sea. But the sight of sand and tress around her, plus the distinct memory of her screaming "slow down!" as they barreled toward the shore, reminds her otherwise.
Taeyva: Can steer a ship, my ass.
With a deep breath, and no small amount of forced vigor, Taeyva fights her way to her feet. The difficulty of regaining footing and splitting pain in her head distracts her enough from vomiting.
Taeyva: He could have at least brought me ashore.
Taeyva: Asshole.
A short ways from the ship, Torund kneels down, admiring the sands of Solstheim for the first time. It is coarse, grey, and dark. Off in the distance, he can make out the Red Mountain, spewing it's soot into the air. It seems to settle in the sky like a smog, casting a faded shadow over the island.
It is too ominous for him to properly enjoy.
Torund: That's strange.
Taeyva: Hey, jerk.
Torund pulls away from his thoughts and scoffs.
Torund: I hope you're talking to those annoying birds.
Taeyva: No, I'm talking to you. You just crashed the ship and left me on the deck unconscious.
Torund rolls his eyes.
Torund: I couldn't have helped you anyway. Now shut up for a second.
Taeyva shirks back and glares at Torund, flabbergasted.
Taeyva: Excuse me? I am not going to shut up! Don't tell me to-
Torund: Ugh. Please be quiet then. Just for a second, okay? Listen.
Taeyva clenches her jaw, mustering all her willpower to keep herself from pouncing on the man.
Torund: It's quiet. Eerily so.
Taeyva: No. It's just quiet.
Torund ignores her and gestures over the ridge.
Torund: Isn't that a city, though?
Taeyva: So?
Torund: So we should hear people. Commotion.
Taeyva snorts and rolls her eyes.
Taeyva: Torund, that town is as dreary as they come. I'd be more surprised if there was noise.
Torund: You know it?
A long sigh, harboring the same irritation plaguing Taeyva's face, passes her lips.
Taeyva: I've been here before.
She notices the perplexed look on Torund's face and huffs, marching past him.
Taeyva: Come on. I'll tell you on the way.
Taeyva: It was... Fourteen years ago. I was 10. Hircine had come to me a few months earlier... on my 10th birthday actually, to offer that I take on the role as his prophet.
Torund: Wait. 10? Isn't that a little young?
Taeyva: I mean... maybe. But you knew that already. I was 14 when you saved me from the Vigil.
Torund: I mean, 14 is a lot older.
Taeyva: Anyway...
Taeyva: Hircine said my purpose is to enact the ritual. The Hunt. To do so, I had to actually learn the steps. So I was sent here to.
Torund: Those steps... Is that what Hircine didn't let you tell me?
Taeyva: It's not that simple. A lot of people know the ritual. Including the natives here who I ran into back then. The Skaal.
Torund: Never heard of them.
Taeyva: There isn't much to hear. They're just dumb hermits. However, the first Hunt actually was against them. As a result, they didn't like me coming here.
Torund: What happened?
Taeyva shrugs nonchalantly.
Taeyva: The tried to convince me to leave. I got annoyed. I burned one of their huts down. You know, normal kid stuff.
Torund halts and stares past Taeyva, aghast.
Torund: What the...
Taeyva rubs the back of her neck awkwardly.
Taeyva: Okay okay. Maybe it was a little much. But they were jerks t-
Torund flusters and shakes his head.
Torund: No. I'm not talking about that. Look!
He juts out his hand, jabbing his finger in the direction of the town. Taeyva whips around in bewilderment at his sudden outburst, but her confusion doesn't last long.
Taeyva: Huh? What are you... Oh.
Stomping potholes into the path ahead, marches a hulking, scaly creature.
It towers nearly as tall as a giant, yet that's where their similarities end. Blue, glistening skin covers it's massive, shell plated body. It's face is that of a fish, yet eerily humanoid with it's open jaw, exposing a mouth filled with serrated teeth.
Taeyva: Maybe you were right...
Torund: What?
Taeyva: I can't be sure, but I think that's a lurker. An apocrypha beast. I don't how it got here, but if it came from the town then-
Taeyva cuts off as Torund shoulders past her, shoving a heavy object into her chest.
Torund: Hold this.
Taeyva: Wha-
She stumbles backwards, nearly dropping whatever it was he gave her before she could even see it. She manages to recover her balance and finds Torund's troll skull helmet staring back at her.
Taeyva: What in oblivion are you doing?
Torund saunters confidently forward. A giddy smile takes his lips as a rush of vigor and anticipation fills him.
Torund: I'm going to get rid of that thing.
Taeyva watches him stomp forward, incredulous.
Taeyva: Take your helmet then! Why did you give it to me?
Torund locks his eyes on the behemoth ahead, ravenous and eager. He reaches up to grasp the handle of his warhammer, his heart already beginning to race with anticipation.
Without turning away, he flashes a crooked smile and responds.
Torund: I need you to keep it safe.
For a moment Taeyva is speechless, appalled by Torund's response. Her dismay is quickly overtaken by aggravation however, as she finds herself screaming at her hot headed companion.
Taeyva: You need me to what!?
Taeyva: That's the helmet's job, you idiot!
Torund continues to march ahead, showing no intention of listening to, or even hearing her at all. With an exasperated groan, she stares down at the withered helmet and shakes her head.
Taeyva: What's so special about you, anyway?
Torund's smile stretches further as his fingers curl around his hammer's grip. It's been much too long since he's had a proper fight, and even longer since he's won one. This should quench both thirsts.
Torund: You're an ugly one.
The lurker hisses at him, it's voice gurgled and gravelly. They approach one another in unison with heavy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to striking distance.
Torund knows that with the lurker's size, it will be able to attack much sooner. With each step he gauges the lurker's range, planning each one down to the inch. Just out of range, he stops. And just as expected, the lurker strikes.
It lurches back with it's arm, clawed fingers bared. Torund ducks low. His knees brace against the tension building in his calves.
The lurker's claws rocket past him. An outstretched talon nicks the hem of Torund's robe. All the momentum in the attack sends the lurker twisting off balance. Just as the claws are out of the way, Torund releases the tension in his legs. His knees fire upwards and his whole body shoots into the air.
Torund: Hraahh!
The lurker sways forward, desperately trying to pull back for another attack. Torund doesn't give it the chance. As he flies forward, he leans backwards, extending his leg like a lance.
His boot careens into the lurkers gut. The beast roars in agony as air jets from it's gaping mouth. It crashes into the sand, bellowing and clawing out.
Torund keeps up the aggression. Landing on his feet, he immediately twists into an attack. Swinging his warhammer over his head, he harnesses all the momentum from the fall into his arms.
Torund: Take this!
All the lurker can do is watch as Torund's warhammer careens toward it.
Torund: Hraaah!
The last sounds it makes are a horrified roar...
...and a sickening splat.
Taeyva: Wow. You made that look easy.
Torund wiggles his hammer as he tries to dislodge it from the lurker's skull. It's insides squish and mush with each yank until it is finally tugged free, splattering blood and goop over the sand.
Torund: Heh. It wasn't tough at all.
Taeyva chuckles and rolls her eyes.
Taeyva: Yeah, okay. Here's your precious helmet.
He gives her a gracious nod, taking the helmet and sliding it back over his head.
Torund: Thanks.
Taeyva cocks her head and raises an eyebrow.
Taeyva: Not gonna explain what's so special about that helmet?
Torund looks at her suspiciously.
Torund: Do you not remem- Hmm. Nevermind.
Torund: You have your secrets. I have mine. Deal?
Taeyva purses her lips and matches Torund's stare for a moment before sighing and giving a shrug.
Taeyva: Fair enough. So what do you think about this, huh?
Taeyva gestures to the corpse at their feet.
Taeyva: If he was this close to the town...
Taeyva trails off, her mind a jumble of what it might mean.
Torund grunts in agreement, finishing her thought.
Torund: Then there might not be a town left.
As Taeyva and Torund made their way into Raven Rock, it became apparent that the sickening stench wasn't from the lurker corpse. It settled in the air, putrid, as still as the town itself.
Torund: What in oblivion...
The two of them have each had their share of death, so the smell was a minor encumbrance. But the amount of bodies...
...it is something they could never get used to.
Torund: There isn't a single drop of blood. It's as if they just dropped dead. Right on the spot.
Taeyva: Hmmm.
Taeyva doesn't respond, scouring the area around her, trying to piece two and two together.
Taeyva: Do you remember what Hircine said? About the remaining Daedric Lords?
Torunds stands up and narrows his eyes, unsure of what Taeyva is getting at.
Torund: Err, maybe. What do you mean?
Taeyva scans her surroundings, pausing at each corpse, their lives sucked dry.
Taeyva: He said they are taking sides. Going to the aid of the greatest contenders.
Torund cocks his head, still puzzled.
Torund: So?
Taeyva: So what did we just fight?
Torund: Well, I fought it.
Taeyva ignores his remark, pressing towards him and making sure her expression is steadfast and stern.
Taeyva: A lurker. An apocrypha beast. The realm of-
Voice: Me.
A deep, resonant boom blasts over them. Taeyva whips around. Her hair flies back in a whoosh as the rupture passes her. It settles back down over her ears, now ringing from the shock wave. As she grows rigid, Torund is a blur of movement. Before the sound passes his hand is already grasping his hammer.
Voice: Hello, Taeyva.
Taeyva grits her teeth.
Six pitch black orbs float in the air atop the town. From each of them, long, slime covered tentacles reach out from the seemingly infinite blackness inside. Just peering into it seems to swallow her whole. In the center of the orbs bobs the largest of them all. Multiple eyes hang in it's darkness and a wreath of tentacles festoon its outer edges.
She has heard of this Prince's form before, but never did she actually think she'd be staring his many eyes down.
Taeyva: Hermaeus Mora.
Torund: Get back Taeyva, I can take this creature.
Taeyva groans and rolls back her head, shooting Torund a condescending glare.
Taeyva: That's a Daedric Lord. No, Torund. You can't.
Torund huffs and drops his hammer in contempt.
Torund: Pfft. I could still take him.
Rolling her eyes, Taeyva turns back to the Daedric Lord that has been waiting uncharacteristically patiently.
Taeyva: What do you want?
The Daedric Lord chuckles; a droning, gravelly groan that seems to come from all directions at once.
Hermaeus Mora: Ah, right to it then. How pleasing.
Every word slips out more slowly than the last. His voice is as monotonous as it is deep, like a mouth parched and riddled by coughs. With each pause, Taeyva can hear Torund's foot tapping impatiently.
Hermaeus Mora: We have similar goals. You and I. Aiding one another could prove... bountiful.
Taeyva's lips curl.
Taeyva: Is this a joke? You sided with Molag Bal. In case you haven't got the memo, we're kinda enemies.
Another laugh echoes from the mass of tentacles.
Hermaeus Mora: Ah, yes. How the lords have... flocked... to him. Even Sanguine now toys with the idea. But no, though favored, Bal will not win this war.
Taeyva scrunches her brow.
Taeyva: What are you talking about? You are helping who you believe is the losing side?
Hermaeus Mora: I only seek to learn. If I aid the clear victor, then I will learn nothing. I seek the knowledge of a new world. But first, I need your help with the last of it from this world.
Taeyva blurts out a single laugh and glares smugly at Hermaeus Mora.
Taeyva: Help you? Go back to your library, old man. We're not going to do that.
Hermaeus Mora: You don't have a choice. The Skaal prohibit both of us. Give me a chance to get to them, and you will not share their fate.
Torund: Hold on.
Torund breaks his silence and storms forward, pushing Taeyva aside as he shoulders through.
Taeyva: Hey! What's gotten into you?
Torund: What are you talking about? What fate?
A deep sigh bellows from the Daedric Lord.
Hermaeus Mora: They hide behind a little barrier. Small, yet very powerful. It suppresses daedric activity over the island. And completely blocks it over their village.
Hermaeus Mora: It prevents me from getting to them and you from completing your little ritual. We both need it taken down.
Torund: We'll find a way around it. Whatever needs to b-
Taeyva: Ugh. Torund, don't listen to him.
Torund stops and turns to see Taeyva rolling her eyes. She shakes her head exaggeratedly, storming past him towards Hermaeus Mora.
Taeyva: He's being manipulative. Come on, let's get a move on.
Torund tries to stammer out a response, but fails as Taeyva continues to storm ahead, straight through the Daedric Lord's being.
Torund: Wait! Don't just walk through that stuff! It could kill you!
Taeyva: It won't. Now come on.
Torund clenches his jaw as she walks through the mass, fighting every urge to dive forward and yank her backwards. As she moves through, the orbs shift out of her way. Some of the smaller tentacles actually flee inside the the darkness as she nears. It isn't until she is long past that they finally peek back out, creeping into the light like a frightened animal.
He lugs his hammer over his shoulder, securing it in it's place over his back. As he watches Taeyva storm off, he sighs.
Torund: What's gotten into her?
A haughty chuckle echoes in Torund's ears.
Hermaeus Mora: A frightening one, indeed.
Torund's teeth grind when Hermaeus Mora's droning voice hums in his ears yet again.
Torund: What are you talking about now?
Again, Hermaeus Mora chuckles. But this time, it sounds different, more distinct. More personal. It isn't until the Daedric Lord finally speaks that Torund realizes the sounds are no longer in his ears, but in his head.
Hermaeus Mora: You don't know her as well as you think you do.
Torund's suspicion builds. His gut gnaws at him, urging him to leave, but a stubborn curiosity keeps his feet firm.
Torund: I know her better than I lead on. Just because she's forgotten doesn't mean I have.
Hermaeus Mora: I do not speak about your two's history. I speak of her existence.
He takes in a breath, waiting for Hermaeus Mora to continue.
Hermaeus Mora: She is a masterful liar. Deceiving the world so well that she managed to deceive herself.
Torund curls his lips. Taeyva was right, he is just trying to manipulate him.
Torund: You're a snake.
Another laugh rings in his head, this one more aggressive and heinous than the rest.
Hermaeus Mora: Yes. Yes, I am. But the darkness within her...
His voice trails off. A few seconds pass and Torund isn't sure if he will continue. Then it returns. Loud.
It echoes through his head and screams in his ears. His eyes tell him that Hermaeus Mora hasn't moved, but every other sense tingles with his presence. A slimy lick passes over his arms and down his chest. The hairs on his legs bristle as a breath blows over them. Every word that comes echoes a million times over, blaring like a broken bell tower. Gong! Gong! Gong!
He struggles to keep his eyes open, forcing them to stay fixated upon the Daedric Lord's form, in fear that if closed they will succumb like his other senses. He can feel his jaw fly open. He knows he is screaming but he can't hear it. A sudden weight plummets onto his body. He can still hear Hermaeus Mora speak, but he can't comprehend a single word. Each one adds more and more pressure. His knees start to buckle. Every fiber in his body aches and screams as the world around him shakes...
...and then stops.
Torund straightens up hurriedly, frantically taking in his surroundings. Nothing has changed. Taeyva hasn't moved from where she was, still marching off in the distance not a step further than she was earlier. Hermaeus Mora still floats in front of him, somehow appearing content despite being a mass of tentacles.
Torund pats himself up and down. He is unscathed. He has no idea what just happened, but worst of all, he can't remember a single word Hermaeus Mora spoke. He peers up at the floating mass and a shudder passes through his body.
Hermaeus Mora: That is but a glimpse of what lurks within. I'd be careful if I were you.
To be continued in part 2...
Act Six Index:
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