So, like I said in my recent skyrim scribble, I started writing something, I only got what would be the first chapter of a short story! Please tell me if I made any mistakes or if I could improve on anything.
It wasn't too late that night when Ris left the camp. She could hear the chanting of a word wall. She just had to find it, even if that meant leaving everyone behind. Mul would freak out if he found out she'd gone alone, so she'd have to be back before sunrise, and hey, Ray knew where she went, so he'll have to take the blame.
As the smaller dragonborn tracked up the chilled mountain forests, she thought on how different this place still was from Blackmarsh, sure they both had ancient ruins, and locals who would give her weird looks, but back in Blackmarsh the wind never bit so hard as it blew through her fur.
In Blackmarsh, the air that she breathed in never made her feel as warm as a ragging flame atronach in a world of ice, like it did here in Skyrim. It wasn't a bad feeling, though, a bit lonely maybe, but she never felt like a dov so much anywhere else.
It wasn't long Ris had to walk for the tundra shrubbery around her to quickly be replaced with old nord stone works, crumbling and cracked over hundreds of years of the tyrant weather Skyrim was known for, but no less impressive than they would have ever been.
The further she walked on the now stone path the louder the beautiful hum of the word wall got, Ris wished others could hear the righteous chanting calling them forward as well, sure Mul could hear to, but only when he was next to the word walls, and even then, he could only understand a word or two. Nothing like her, she understands it all, she could feel every single dovah word burning in her soul, it made her feel so powerful and connected to her fellow dov and Akatosh himself.
In the distance, Ris could barely make out the outline of the nordic ruins. It made her think of the Xanmeers her father always warned about. But here in Skyrim, the ancient ruins were different, less cursed, and to be feared. Hell, on some occasions, she'd found bandits living in ruins like this one. It was oddly common here.
As Ris continued up the dark path, she would start to hear things, mumbles all around her, but when she flicked her ears to catch what was being said, the smaller dragonborn always seemed to miss it.
As she got closer to the ancient ruins, that's when the first one attacked. It was quick and quiet, but it smelled off death. As she ducked out of the was and turned to see her attacker Ris was confused, she was met with a barely visible blue human form, it's faces twisted in pain as the echo of a man's voice rang out. "I'm sorry! I don't want to do this!" he spoke in a skyrim accent as he once again swung his giant ghostly battle axe down at her.
Ris ducked out of the way from the ghostly battle axe just in time as it tried to crush her, and within no time, she pulled the fire enchanted war axe from her side. It wasn't every day a ghostly figure would be trying to kill her while apologizing, so safe to say the dragonborn was taken a back a bit.
"I'm sorry, this isn't what I want!" The ghost would yell as they continued their dance of attack and dodge. Ris didn't know what to do. There were so many questions she had. As the spirit's weapon came down again, Ris managed to get a hit in on the tormented soul's chest, causing the ghostly nord to stumble backward.
"I don't have a choice! Stay back!" he shouted out in a pained echo. Ris took that chance to slide by and cut the ghost below the knees before finishing the tortured soul off by swinging for the neck as he fell. What on nirn was going on here?
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