Who are we but the Earth Itself
Feroxus sat in the central watchtower that stood as the Hiranius Trading Post's beacon for those traveling along the roads; he sat up there late at night staring up into the darkness of it all, only seeing the small specs of light burning through the infinite tapestry of the void. The wind blew a tender breeze that seemed to kiss and wrap around him at random intervals. The trees rustled softly, the animals of the night sang a song with one another, or occasionally overlapping noise of the fire behind him. The scents in the air also added to the experience, sweet flower pollen, animal musks, and the oak burning was just a lovely thing to take in.
There stood an orcish male by the name of Talun near one of the corners of the watch tower's edge, resting almost entirely hidden by the stone, but the firelight exposed him to the sight of the mer. The young man seemed to be a monument to violence, with his massive muscular frame, that was a foot taller than the Bosmer's. Talun's hair was cut into a prominent Mohawk, large tusk coming from his bottom jaw. The orcs deep red eyes held a sort of contempt Feroxus either didn't register the expression or didn't mind too much.
It had been thirty long minutes until the silence broken by Talun, his voice more than a growl as his question came forth from his lips. "How does a Bosmer of all beings come to obtain land in Wrothgar? I thought your kindred loved trees and uncomfortably warm places, why come here to make an outpost for trade?" the orc was from Orsinuim's prison, well not as a willing guard. Feroxus had offered the young man a way out if he would come and help watch over the outpost. Paying the fine for Talun, he had become more or less a hired guardsmen, an imposing one at that too. Feroxus respected the fact that this orc was able to face down a troll undaunted with only a small blade as his only weapon and win at that.
"Well, a chap of mine -Seheris that large Dunmer fellow you might see walking around- and myself cleared out the fort, lovely bit of fun. Reachmen had used it as a base of operations. We snuck in through a secret passage, while a group of Orc Warriors was fighting the forces scattered about the outside of the wall," standing up and shrugging. "We slew a massive beast made by the Briarhearts. Then after fighting through hordes of the bastards, we slew the chieftain. Right bloody battle, your kin did much work on their own which was commendable." Feroxus nodded his head emphatically before his dark eyes went back up to the even darker sky.
"Then you paid for the land? You bargained with the King?" his gruff voice rumbled as if it were judging Feroxus. "Again I doubt the king would just hand over the land to someone without care." Feroxus shrugged a bit. "He saw that the place had its place, but he wanted more commerce to flow into his lands, so in exchange for the fort I promised to pay taxes, as well as have a few of his merchants here, if he sent guards and worked out a deal with Evermore to help watch over the place. So there are strings attached, but they are strings that bring in good things for everyone."
Talun seemed to take this in before nodding his head slightly, contemplating the thought. "I see," his eyes gazed over the shrouded landscape. "Then why a place that could have Reachmen cause you trouble?" his brow perked up a bit. This question perplexed Feroxus because his original purpose of just killing off Reachmen had somewhat diminished, sure he didn't exactly love them, but he met some that he hadn't loathed completely yet. "Well, I...hmmm..." scratching a shaved part of his scalp he then laughed in a bit of a soft, somber way. "Well, as much as I used to hate them all, I guess one could say that like any breed of people there are a few good ones in the rotten brambles and twisted vines. There is a chance to find something or someone good out of all the bad. Some to think the same for me. I plan on one day making peace with those who would want to at least parlay and trade. But those who have and continue to do wrong will pay in blood." Feroxus wrinkled his nose a bit as he let his eyes glance over to Talun. "I mean, after all, I bought you out of a cage, you work for me, but you are allowed to have a life like many other people are able. You did something wrong for sure, but you have to live with such haunting memories. Hopefully, they steer you in the right direction."
Feroxus went silent, upon seeing the expression of Talun, it was hard and angry like someone had just kicked him in the shin, but Feroxus knew the truth as did Talun. The young orc's had accidentally killed a man in a drunken rage, and the man had a child whose mother was already sick. Talun had done wrong and would live with that every day. Feroxus's words struck home as Talun then said out in a soft tone more to himself than to Bosmer. "Maybe one day I will grow passed my pity and sorrows."
"I am sure that you can achieve such."
The night was silent once again as the kisses and the embrace of the wind came back over them both.
Posted Jun 13, 18
· Last edited Jun 13, 18
There was not a cloud blemishing the perfectly blue sky above, much like the other day. The hunter's bow was drawn back ready to let the notched arrow fly, much like the other day. Though unlike the other day, his nostrils didn't burn with that deadly scent that came all to close, in the form of arrows, the smell of silver, the sudden odor of people. The memory faded away just as quickly as it came.
There was the target in the distance the large antlers, reaching up toward the sky much like arms reaching to the heavens. The beast's fur was a gradient, first a rich chestnut coloring along its head and neck, a light creamy tan along the mid-section and returning to the rich chestnut along the flank and legs. It didn't notice the predator just a few yards away; it didn't see Feroxus as he released his arrow.
Another memory came flashing through leaving the distinct sound of ringing metal, the type of ringing that came when two blades met in battle and parried one another. A droplet of sweat had run down the right side of Feroxus' dead, down the cheek and off the side of his jaw. The crash followed the death woes of the elk made as it tumbled through the bushes and bramble, its death came swiftly, a moment of pain before darkness took it into the eternal night. The audible popping noise that could only be bone revealed in the form the neck of the elk twisting in a horrid angle.
Forced to stare into the dark eyes of the animal, Feroxus did not move for what seemed to be an eternity; it was only when his lungs began to feel the pressure from lack of air did he finally inhale and start moving toward the fallen creature. The memory came back, Feroxus could smell blood, his blood, the blood of those assailants. The blades cut and danced across one another, as well as flesh; he remembered the burns from the silver as well as the wickedly sharp knives that cleanly tore his flesh open.
Feroxus seemed to lose all sense of self for a while as he relived the memory, two of the assassins had come upon him in the cave. Two arrows had lodged into his body, one in his leg, and another in his shoulder; the silver tipped weapons caused him a considerable amount of anguish. But he pressed on, had he been at his full pique condition, the tide of battle would have been in his favor for sure. But that was not the case in the slightest; he remembered that he did indeed slay three of the five that were attempting to kill him.
The first one fell to a well-timed parry and strike, impaled in the neck, and then stabbed in the chest. She bled out quickly, and Feroxus could not remember a feature about her. The second one, the male came in with a very aggressive attack pattern, and that is where the ringing came back in, the exchange ended with the man trying to finish off Feroxus by slamming the blade down into the Bosmer's chest, but ended with the man losing his head. The third enemy was the archer, and though she hit Feroxus not once, but three times with arrows, though the last silver-shard was her last, as he tossed a knife in which her closing thoughts were cut short.
Feroxus stood there silently, over the elk before he went through the motions. It was after the thoughts left he knew that his heart went onto the next memories, his now ex-lover and him breaking up. Mutual, though still none the less painful, the smell of blood, and gore filling his nostrils. his hands were drenched in crimson ichor. He merely just sighed as he continued to remove the refuse and organs that would ruin the rest of the meat separating them, setting them aside for later. Tears fell, cleansing small circles of on his hands. He had almost died, his ex-lover had saved him, and they were now, estranged. Incompatible, in the long run, at least she had not just abandoned him. She was willing to be friends, at the very least. Letting his emotions take over, he didn't make a noise as the tears continued to drip down, and onto the ground.
All the emotions were blinding him to the world around him; it wasn't until the wolf came so very near to Feroxus, that the breath was flowing over his wet hands. Both of them stared upon one another, Feroxus only furrowed his brow as he spoke out to the beast. "Yeah old fella?" asked Feroxus his voice soft as he smiled. The lone wolf flared its fangs at the Bosmer. The newcomer was a pale thing, white, with the tinges of yellow that came with any mane that pure, kissed on by the sunlight. Though the age showed in the eyes, the beast seemed to be an ancient thing, which was allowed life due to the magic of Nirn.
These two somber beings, staring one another down. Both of them had seen the quiet, lonely nights; both had walked under the brightest stars, and the darkest storms, and instead of pouncing upon the Bosmer and biting down around his neck, he offered a challenge to the addition to his would be stolen meal.
The challenge was presented with a new option in itself, as Feroxus offered up a nice cut of meat, from around the flank. "Here old man...I can share...better to eat amongst company." Both staring one another down, it took only a few moments before the wolf much like Feroxus, knew that it was tired of every fight. With blood caked upon its face, as it ate, Feroxus decided to share in the meal, no salt, no fire, no spice, letting his primal urges kick in as he chewed into whatever juicy morsel he had. That day both of them enjoyed the company, amongst the midday sun.
No matter what the cause, it is evident, that not all beasts will see eye to eye. Even if they are of the same breed, creatures will fight one another, whether it be for a scrap of food, a bit of land. Other beasts merely fight to humiliate their opponent. Feroxus was not a mer that partook in combat to show off; he was not an overly prideful person; though admittedly he did take pride in whatever he decided to put his mind to it. Hunting, he took pride in, working with his hands and finishing a hards day's work. He took pride in that thought of being self-sufficient. What he would never take pride in, is killing without a good reason. Feroxus found it to be shameful to act like a rabid beast; he pitied those who could not handle their blood lust but was of course disgusted by those who indulged it.
As he stood there in the treeline, he knew that he had been spotted, and he knew that the beast would attack soon. Feroxus smelt the blood on the monster's hands surely as the creature felt the truth about Feroxus. Both of them, werewolves. Feroxus after setting aside his weapons, his armor came off quickly but quietly, whomever the werewolf had killed, was the only thing distracting it from attacking him; or maybe it was just waiting for the challenger. This white beast was coming for the hunter.
Feroxus tore through the flesh with his hands as the bones in his body made audible noises, crackling, popping, and even crunching. After fully unleashed, the battle happened after he was finish shifting. The other wolf was upon Feroxus, and Feroxus met in kind. Claws, teeth, and fur attacking one another, both beasts rolling down the hill until colliding into a tree separated them. The feral wolf rushed at Feroxus again roaring and snarling as it closed the gap, Feroxus dove at it once again, claws read, and his fangs ready for more blood.
The fight was intense and deadly, though each attack left a gash int he other's skin and fur. The two fought for what seemed to be forever but, flesh and blood scattered about, but both of them seemed to take it in stride, that was until Feroxus' jaw latched onto the other wolf's throat and clamped down hard. The beast flailed trying to claw at Feroxus, but Feroxus then dug his claws into the face and eyes of the enemy upon him. Not holding back a second even as the monster tried clawing through Feroxus'. The hunter wouldn't be bested so easily even as he felt the claws scraped his bones, he bit through until his jaw closed shit before pulling away.
The growl, the drowning wet noise that came from the beast, was horrid and wet. It stood there for a time the wolf's bright green eyes dimmed slowly, the gaping wound revealed only flesh that would be the backdrop that would have been the accented with a spinal cord, aortal tube, vein, and trachea. The last wet huff pooled and poured forth onto its fur dyed a beautiful ruby. The thud was enough confirmation for Feroxus to let his jaw drop open and let the gore fall out and onto the ground. The resounding howl shook every bone in Feroxus' aching body.
Winter, it was a time in the year where everything seemed to wither away, grow cold, and die away. It is to make way for the new lives that are to come forth, for life to start anew. For the wounds of the past, to freeze, crack, and melt away into the past. The scars from winter are there to give one the harsh reality, that if you wish to live, then you must have the will to survive. And while winter is a cold, cruel mistress who will fell those who do not respect her icy grasp; she can be such a beauty. She can be a very artistic thing, pure, loving, as well as a sight to behold, and she will provide you a perspective of the world that could not be imagined.
For Feroxus, winter was the only time of the year where he found the most introspection, for in winter it is hard to hide amongst the endless plains of snow, the frozen lakes, and the glass covered forests. There are no bushes or tall grasses to hide from, and the trees have no foliage to vanish into. For Feroxus, winter was the time where he saw his true self the darkest, and the brightest parts of who he was. For he knew that he while not a wholly broken thing, did have a piece missing. While the few women that he had met this year had shown him that even though he wished to settle down and have a woman in his life, it was not the essential piece he needed. No, he was missing a closure to himself, it is not a lack of friends, for he had some people that he could be friendly. He could find a lover; he could find someone to bed, knowing that being unattractive wasn't a problem; he had been with a slew of women who would have made for potential partners if they stuck around.
Feroxus had held hatred in his heart for Reachmen for many years; for good reason of course. Being tormented, toyed, beat, cut, and used as a pet for a year by the hands of those who were completely twisted and evil would forever stain his mind and soul. Unlike a footprint in the snow, it could not simply be filled in. Feroxus had always seen himself as the type of man who was accepting, of most types, of course, expectations were made. Bandits had no place in the world, well not above prey. For Feroxus, he was such a mixed individual, that he loved the ironies of his life. He was outcasted, but he found his place, he is a monster, but does as much good as possible. He was a man who could have it all but wanted none of it. But to rid himself of this hatred, it would make him complete, to not hate them all, just the ones who did bad, that would repair the mural, himself.
Walking through the forest, carrying his bag, his swords, bow, and hunting knives, he carried himself through the frozen everscape of Wrothgar he was on his way south. Nobles, always the nobles who seemed to think that just because they had coin they owned the world; respectful, or not they all seemed to have a haughty nature about them that made Feroxus' eyes roll. House Decentius, the lord had come to him, and while Feroxus should have turned the man away, the bosmer couldn't help but frown at the notion of letting people starve just because a man was too lazy to figure out what his land held. Colovia, it had been a time since he visited the land; a noble woman had let him bed her for a while and Feroxus did enjoy the company, even if it were just for a few steamy nights of pleasure. It was just another thought on his mind, he always wondered what would happen if she had a protective family member.
That thought amusing was quickly banished when he heard the soft noise of steps next to him, the large wolf stared into his dark eyes, the grey-white furred beast looking up at Feroxus with its bright yellow eyes. Wither Fang, his friend, an old friend, they had been friends for more than a few decades, and he had befriended him. Starrunner and Ravenous Rain came up shortly after, the mother and pup, both once beasts of the Reachmen, now free animals were not too far behind. And finally the last wolf, Iceheart, one that didn't think himself the pack type brought up the rear. Each of them, all four of the dire wolves had shown that one thing that Feroxus wish he could have. Each of them, only ever lived in the moment, Feroxus, while he could do such for a time, he always seemed to end up back in his own thoughts, thinking of the past, or future, always wondering what could have been and what could be.
His train of thought again banished as he felt something brush against his hand, yes it was the cold snout of his friend, but there was more, a charm, a necklace, made of bone and feathers. A charm that the Reachwomen would sometimes make for their men, a charm of protection, or love. Feroxus took the item from Wither Fang's mouth, before patting the wolf on the head. "Thanks old friend, it seems, that....maybe this wound just needs a bit of reminder, that they are just like others at times." With that, the bosmer, and his four lupine companions made their way south to new hunting grounds, a new adventure.