Day Eighty-seven: Shelter in the storm
The day dawned clear, but with a brisk wind. Looking down I could see that the deep channel of the foyada focused the wind, and billowing clouds of dusty ash were already rising. By the time I broke camp it was obvious I would need to find shelter as the wind continued to pick up, heading towards a howling fury. I sped down the hill to the north. Before long I was swallowed by the swirling torment of the ash storm. I wrapped my shirt around my head to filter the air. I had to breathe, but with no shirt the grit that seeped inside my armor ground away at my skin. And nothing could protect my eyes. I considered just lying down, curled in a protective ball, but I was afraid the marching dunes would bury me alive.
I hoped I was still headed north, but I wasn't sure. Whatever the direction, off to my left I saw the blurred figure of a man stumbling through the storm. Hoping that he would know a place to seek shelter I turned to join him. As I approached I saw that he was making for a cave entrance, sealed by a worn wooden door. Gratefully I called out to my fellow traveler.
My usual caution had been overcome by the torment of the storm, but as soon as I called out I saw all the reasons that I shouldn't have. Shirtless in the storm; the hulking gait; my hope for safe harbor from the storm collapsed with my recognition of a man far gone with corprus disease. The abomination wheeled clumsily and charged through the swirling ash and dust. With no time for thought I instinctively rammed my spear into its chest. The force of its charge bore me over backwards. The creature thrashed about, showing no sign of human intelligence, or even the slower thoughts of an animal. The fast growing flesh tried to close around the spear, but with every movement the weight of the long shaft would pull and twist the blade releasing great gushes of bloody froth from the shredded lungs. No effort was made to pull the spear free. Driven by malice over self preservation the poor blighted soul poured out its life while vainly struggling to reach me.
Once it was still I recovered my spear and turned to the door. I hesitated briefly, fearful of what must lie within. A corprus stalker on their doorstep did not speak well for the occupants of the cave. Driven by the storm I slipped inside.
Iam afraid to sleep in this evil place, but the storm continues to rage outside. It is a Sixth House base; fortunately small; a single descending spiral ending at a shrine. With no cross passages the fell creatures had no way to get behind me, and were dispatched in sequence and fairly quickly. Still I am uncomfortable here. I am resting against the surface door, as far from the horrid altar with its bins of corprus laden meat as I can get. I pray the storm passes soon.
I hoped I was still headed north, but I wasn't sure. Whatever the direction, off to my left I saw the blurred figure of a man stumbling through the storm. Hoping that he would know a place to seek shelter I turned to join him. As I approached I saw that he was making for a cave entrance, sealed by a worn wooden door. Gratefully I called out to my fellow traveler.
My usual caution had been overcome by the torment of the storm, but as soon as I called out I saw all the reasons that I shouldn't have. Shirtless in the storm; the hulking gait; my hope for safe harbor from the storm collapsed with my recognition of a man far gone with corprus disease. The abomination wheeled clumsily and charged through the swirling ash and dust. With no time for thought I instinctively rammed my spear into its chest. The force of its charge bore me over backwards. The creature thrashed about, showing no sign of human intelligence, or even the slower thoughts of an animal. The fast growing flesh tried to close around the spear, but with every movement the weight of the long shaft would pull and twist the blade releasing great gushes of bloody froth from the shredded lungs. No effort was made to pull the spear free. Driven by malice over self preservation the poor blighted soul poured out its life while vainly struggling to reach me.
Once it was still I recovered my spear and turned to the door. I hesitated briefly, fearful of what must lie within. A corprus stalker on their doorstep did not speak well for the occupants of the cave. Driven by the storm I slipped inside.
Iam afraid to sleep in this evil place, but the storm continues to rage outside. It is a Sixth House base; fortunately small; a single descending spiral ending at a shrine. With no cross passages the fell creatures had no way to get behind me, and were dispatched in sequence and fairly quickly. Still I am uncomfortable here. I am resting against the surface door, as far from the horrid altar with its bins of corprus laden meat as I can get. I pray the storm passes soon.
posted by Tim | 11:17 AM
3 Comments:
Your sites awesome dude!
Tim, I just discovered your site today and I can't wait to start reading from the beginning (although I must be careful of spoilers as I am playing through the game for the first time myself). But actually, my FIRST question must be... what Mod are you using in your banner picture that shows the quiver with a bow on your back?! Very cool! I want it! :)
Thanks Nick! And I wouldn't worry too much about spoilers Coroth. Yes, Arvil Bren is pursuing what is called the 'main quest'...at the pace that works for the story to be told. The first time I played Morrowind I reached the point AB is at now in about a week...admittedly playing for hours on end...but still just a week. You will probably be past any possible spoilers pretty quickly. Of course there could be some 'spoilers' in the mage guild quests AB does. That first character never did them at all, he was a straight up Redguard warrior with hardly any command of magic at all. One of the great things about Morrowind; despite all the times I have played it 'all the way through' there are still caverns I've never explored and quests I've never completed. I recently wrote AB into a bit of a corner when I took on the rescue of Hannat Zainsubani because I had never actually done that before. I don't know how many more days I could have gotten away with writing 'wandered around the West Gash, still can't find Mamaca'.
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