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    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    "So tell me Sai, is this lovely lady a companion or a charge?" Bruynzeel would have blushed if he could but Teeja was always very direct. "A bit of both, She knows my age." Teeja's mouth opens then closes and she then finally says "Well that tells me alot actually as I didn't for almost two years. And I fought by your side that whole time. With the other Seekers. I suspected something strange about you. Your too skilled at too many things to be the 20 something that you look. Your mannerisms, your languauge, even the way you walk." Bruynzeel considers this and determines there is no way to change that but keeps it in mind should he really need to hide.

    Teeja turns to Klaern,
    "You know that loving this cat means not being together in the hereafter? That as you age and grow frail he will continue to look and be this?" Bruynzeel gasps but had half expected such bruskness from Teeja "That is a bit uncalled for and premature." Teeja stares him straight in the eye "Listen Papa Bru, you may have forever to make up your mind and heart but the rest of us have limited lives. If we were to wait on your schedule we would have but a few meager years. Besides you can see you both really like each other." Bruynzeel guffaws but understands her point. "So should I rush into marraige after four days?"
    "You two have only been together four days? Your so comfortable around each other. I would have thought it was longer."
     
    Klaern likes Teeja's directness. She blushes slightly and watches as Bruynzeel tries to peddle his way around his true feelings. Klaern knew what she felt, she knew it with every beat of her heart that she belonged with this Khajiit. The fact that she would grow old and he would not did give her a sadness that she couldn't explain, but it was not going to stop Klaern from having a happy and full life with the only person she had ever felt these intense moments of exhilaration and excitement. So what if it they had only met four days before, to her it felt like an eternity, all the times she has watched her tongue, controlled her thoughts and stopped her hand from caressing his soft fur.

    But seeing his reaction to Teeja's direct questioning made Klaern doubt herself for only a moment. She wanted very much to tell him to stop being coy. But she would wait. Not forever, but she can be patient for the things she wanted most. She answered Teeja's question with a slight nod,
    "I understand and believe it would be worth it to be happy in life. All good things come with a sacrifice and nothing is ever promised to be all that you hoped it would be- but with diligence and openness, " she looks into Bruynzeel's eyes then back to Teeja, "One can be certain to create their own happiness as long as they do not let fear keep them from making decisions their hearts already have the answer for...."

    It was then that Andast and Star came back with drinks and banana bread. Star put the tea pitcher in the center of the table and set up glasses around for Teeja, Klaern and herself while Andast set down the bread and a tankard of his special home brewed ale for Bruynzeel.
    "Grandpa Bru, will you help me catch some butterflies and some fire flies after dinner?" The little girl's bright eyes sparkled with joy as she waited to hear his answer.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    "I would love to Star, I need to rest and change first. So that I can jump higher. Plus your Mom, Dad and Klaern and I are talking. How about you take my pack and Klaerns to our rooms? I'll give you something for it." And he reaches into the pack and pulls out the hand stiched ermine khajiit doll. "A little Bru for you Star if you do that for us." Star squeals with delight. "I will, I will." She says excitedly as she drags Bruynzeels pack behind her toward the interior of the inn. Bruynzeel turns back and continues with Andast, "The smoked meats smell devine, what wood do you use?" "Hickory, and Juniper, Plus I baste with a molasses, rough sugar, and five other spices. I just kept at it til it could get no better." "Rivals your own skill Bru, my man can cook. Though he still leaves his clothes on the floor." "Well Teeja, you always were the one to keep him in line. Was that you plucking at strings when we were coming up the hill?" He smiles and lifts his tankard knowing it was. "It was, but I am not you. I just pluck and sing and hope to not chase away the crowd that is here for the food." Bruynzeel brings his guitar around front and hands it to her. "Play me something you like." She takes it admiring its craftsmanship. The obvious age and patina of scuffs and scratches.
    c9a9100e4c04e840ba792dc71ed8baa5.jpg


    While everyone is entranced by the song and even though he loves it, a little hand has taken the Doll and is pulling on his leg to come help with the bug collecting. The dimming night turns shades of blue and purple. The nightbirds are chirping, and the fireflys start comeing up from thier hiding places to call out here I am, here I am.

    Teeja stares after Young Star pulling away Bruynzeel, smiles and continues playing.


    Soon Bruynzeel and Star can be seen jumping after butterflies and fireflies.
     
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    The night is beautiful and the music, although a little bit sad is well played and moving. What is also entertaining is Bruynzeel and Star- running around with their jars and jumping, lunging and laughing as they grasp at the flying lights of the fireflies. Klaern is lost in thought as she watches the two at play and notices that Teeja is looking at her, she blushes a little bit at getting caught in her daydreams. Teeja, not one to play any kind of games, comes right out with it, "You have your heart set on our Sai Bruynzeel." It was a statement and not said in a haughty tone, just a fact that Teeja was aware of. In a soft, nearly breathless whisper Klaern answers, "Yes." Andast laughs, "Well it is about time someone came along and took some of that weight off of Sai. He's seen a lot. He's been through a lot, but he has a good heart. "

    Teeja bustles a little bit,
    "Yes, a good heart. Yes a lot on his shoulders, but do not let that make you think he wants more heart break. Getting into a serious relationship, that will be very difficult for him. Do not get me wrong, he is worth it. But the question remains to be seen, are you?"

    Andast places one hand around Teeja's waist,
    "Dear, aren't you being a little bit too harsh on our new friend here? She has been nothing but kind and pleasant since she arrived." Teeja smiles, "Yes, I am being harsh, but it is necessary. I cannot allow Bruynzeel to be heartbroken for no reason. He needs a strong woman not one who will falter because someone asks her a question." Klaern interrupts softly, "I am not faltering, it will be his choice as to whether or not I measure up to his needs and standards, not yours, Milady. No offense intended of course. I realize you are only looking out for Bruynzeel's best interests, but I am sure he is quite capable of making his own decisions."

    Teeja, smiling with a refreshed look to her cheeks,
    "You would be a good match for Sai. That is if he is ready to have a mate again. That, Klaern, remains to be seen." Andast laughs again, "If ever he is should be ready, should be now, as he has such a lovely offer on the table."

    Wishing to change the subject, Klaern asks,
    "So, how long until your baby is due Teeja? I am sure you are ready to be done with that task already." Teeja rubs her stomach affectionately, "The baby is due in two moons. I am ready whenever it is ready. This has gotten more difficult as I get closer to that time. I never realized the difficulty I would have with even simple tasks like reaching a top shelf in the kitchen. It will be good to be back to normal, that I cannot wait for."

    Their conversation is interrupted when a giggling Star and a breathless Bruynzeel come pouncing up to their table, happily showing off their jars of lights. "
    Look Papa, I got a whole bunch this time! Grandpa Bru helped me and he even got some of his own too!" Andast takes the jar in hand and looks at it seriously, "That IS a whole bunch. You did an extra good job this time Star. It is getting to be bedtime though. Go clean up and get prepared for sleep." "Yes Papa." Star answers sweetly and kisses Andast's cheek and runs over to Teeja who leans down and kisses Star's forehead and gets a big hug. Star looks sideways at Klaern and gives a big smile, "Good night Klaern. I hope to see you at breakfast!" "Goodnight Star, sweet dreams," answers Klaern softly, loving seeing the night ritual of this close knit family. Star looks at Bruynzeel, her beautiful eyes catching the light, "Grandpa Bru will you tuck me in? Pleassseee!" The excitement clear in her voice and face.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    "I will indeed tuck you in my darling Star" He allows her to take his hand and guide him inside to her room. Which was painted in sunset shades and a starry ceiling. she shows him her prized posessions a doll house, a leather book full of colored drawings. Her bug collection which she sets with the new jars. Then finally he is allowed to lead her to her bed where he pulls the soft fur over her and starts to tell her a old story.

    "Brave Little Scrib lived with the Kwama Queen, the workers, and the warriors. They were a free colony of kwama, not bound to a Dark Elf mine or any other form of servitude. But Brave Little Scrib was bored. She didn't like being told what to do by the older kwama.
    "What makes you smarter than me?" Brave Little Scrib asked Kwama Worker.
    "I'm older than you, Scrib," Kwama Worker said impatiently, "And I'm always very busy, so I know what's best. You need to stay away from the waterfall. Trust me, you're better off keeping busy than playing in the stream."
    Brave Little Scrib didn't like that answer, so she went to speak with Kwama Warrior. "Why can't I play in the waterfall?" she asked.
    Kwama Warrior, serious as always, never looked at Scrib as he spoke. Instead, he constantly scanned the cave for any potential threats that needed to be fought. Warrior liked to fight, and he was always looking for a battle. "The waterfall? You can't fight the waterfall, Little Scrib. Water is cold and fast and it makes you drown. You should go back to the egg chamber and play with the other scribs where the other warriors and I can watch over you."
    Brave Little Scrib didn't like that answer, either. "Well," thought Brave Little Scrib, "if no one can give me a really good reason why I can't play in the waterfall, then I'm going to go play in the waterfall."
    As Brave Little Scrib approached the underground stream that flowed from the falling water, she spotted a tiny torchbug up ahead. "Hello, tiny Torchbug," Scrib called out.
    "Oh, hello, Little Scrib," Torchbug sang. His voice was hot and sultry, and it crackled like a burning fire. "What brings you to this part of the cave?"
    "I've come to play in the waterfall," Brave Little Scrib said cheerfully. "Will you fly away so I can pass?"
    "Oh, yes," sang Torchbug. "I'll happily fly out of your way. I haven't seen anyone drown in the waterfall in quite some time, and I find the sight very entertaining. Please, hurry. I need a good laugh."
    Brave Little Scrib didn't like what Torchbug was saying. "You want to see me drown?"
    "Well, I guess I don't really care one way or another," sang Torchbug, "but I do enjoy a good drowning. Do you know how to swim, Little Scrib?"
    Brave Little Scrib thought about Torchbug's song. "I know how to swim," she lied. "But I don't think I feel like playing in the waterfall today. Maybe tomorrow. See you later, Torchbug."
    "If you insist, Little Scrib," Torchbug sang. "Have a good day."
    And Brave Little Scrib wandered back to the egg chamber, looking for another adventure.

    The moral of this tale from your people the Dunmer is that it is best to listen to all, take their advice with a thought to their motive. Why do they say what they say. Is it spite, is it busy, is it distain. Are they trying to protect you. Then remember your own abilities. Basically in this story we learn that Scrib wanted to do what no one would let her do til she learned why from the torch bug who was fine with her doing it."


    She kisses him and rolls over to nuzzle into her pillow and her new little Bru doll.
    "Grandpa Bru, I love you. Your not like other people you talk to me like a grown-up. Most grown-ups don't really see, you do." "I do see you. I love you too Star, and your parents, and every other child walking around like grown ups."

    He smiles as he leaves and returns to the group seated outside. Andast hands him a Juniper mead from a small hamlet in skyrim. A Helgan, rare after its destruction. He should set-up a new brewery for it. Such a tasty mead, maybe when he gets to his own estate. It pairs well with the smoked meats they had for dinner. Even klaern had a fine choice of vegatables, fruits. Teeja had stepped away but returns now with a carrot cake already sliced for them to share.
    "Your a bit strange for a Bosmer you know, not eating meat. That goes right against the Father tree and do no harm to plants that is such a major part of Bosmer life. Most eat meat to protect the plants. You seem to do it because of a sustainable future. I would love to have a philosophcal discussion on it sometime when you can stay longer. Bruynzeel mentioned you were heading to Solitude." Andast speaks up. "Tough travel ahead the tunnel has not been crossed in a few months. Most take the upper pass which is snowed in right now." "Actually I was going to do a day or two here training before heading that way. Which is a good reason to make this my last mead." Drinks heartily
     
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    Klaern nods gently, "Yes, I am a bit strange for a Bosmer. There are many reasons we, my village, decided to go against Father Tree and it was not out of disrespect for the wisdom of Father Tree. Perhaps I can share some of those reasons with you tomorrow night," Klaern looks at Bruynzeel for a moment, "As we are staying for a few days apparently. I assume that training will be for my benefit Bruynzeel? I am quite skilled, you will find, when it comes to it." Klaern looks to Andast, "Thank you for the warning about the tunnel." Then speaking to all, "I am glad to be here, sharing time with your family at your inn. Yes, my final destination is Solitude. But the journey there, at each stop is as important."

    Klaern stands and moves to stand beside Teeja's chair and asked her a private question, nodding and smiling, Teeja takes up her guitar.
    "Seems we have a request and an accompaniment vocals by our new Bosmer friend, Klaern."


    When the song ends, Klaern turns to face Teeja and Andast, bowing gently.
    "I would like to clean up and then sleep. I thank you for your hospitality and your good food, drink and company. Goodnight." Klaern looks to Bruynzeel, her eyes a little bit glossy with tears not yet shed. "Goodnight Zeel."

    Klaern takes her leave, suddenly overcome by a bout of homesickness and some heartache. That song was one her mother had sung to her when she was very young and she sang with her mother too. For some reason, she just felt lonely for family and realized that she has no close family left. Perhaps a swim in the river that she spied close to the Inn would wash away some of her loneliness.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    The crowd has disbursed going to their various rooms so Andast and Bruynzeel help clean up while Teeja waddles inside to do the nightly books. "Sai, why are you really staying a couple of days?" Bruynzeel looks up from sweeping the deck and gets a bemused look across his face. "Falmer, Draugr, and bandits. Plus did you see the saddness in her eyes. She needs something. I don't know what we are not that close." "Yet, that is the unspoken word there." "Right, yet." They finish up and carry in the tankards and dishes Bruynzeel says "Goodnight, my treat with breakfast tomorrow." "Of course."

    Having retired to his room behind the kitchen, the sounds and smells of this inn were a pretty close thing to a feeling of welcome as he had. These little pleasures the lives of others... They were his home. Just as much as the quiet places out in the wilds. He meditates... Soon it is the last few dark hours before first light. He goes out dressed in only a loincloth to hunt in the edges of the wood. Finding no game but a few hares.

    He happens across a bandit camp just a few hundred meters up the road and off the path.
    "The wood elf has a bodyguard, Wyrm said to kill her and bring him her gear." "Well then who is this Wyrm?" "plops it's the bodyguard!" They attack and as the first approaches, Bruynzeel times the attackers steps moves a half step closer and as the first starts to bring down his mace. Bruynzeel does a flat strike to the underside of his chin snapping his head back with a sickening crack he crumples. The next in full run tries to tackle Bruynzeel which he sidesteps and brings a fist down into the head of his newest attacker. Apparently Bruynzeel had gotten a bit carried away as blood spurts from the wound and this attacker crumples as he tumbles along lifeless. The third a bit more stable had watched the other two go down and instead shows some skill. He has a long sword and a small buckler. He advances slowly gaging Bruynzeel for weaknesses. Bruynzeel makes it evident, he leans on his bad ankle, draging it. "We could end this peacefully, just tell me who Wyrm is and you can go." "I dare not, you heard too much as it is Cat. You surprised them but I will be much harder to vanquish." "Vanquish, good word. As they have been defeated for the last time. I offer you away out. You might want to consider it." The man looks at the two fallen. "They were fools, I know a unarmed khajiit is dangerous. You will not take me in the same way." They had backed onto the road. Standing a good 20 paces from each other Bruynzeel first stands upright and does a full bow to acknowledge the honor of a fair battle. His opponent nods but keeps a close eye on Bru. "When you are ready." They start circling in toward each other spinning around looking for a opening. The sword and shield warrior showed competinence. He got into thrusting range and takes a good swing which Bruynzeel narrowly avoids to which he then thrusts toward where Bruynzeels chest should be to find empty air and the teeth of Bruynzeel clamp on the back of his shoulder. one paw on the mans hip, one in his arm pit he is lifted into the air. Bruynzeel Roars and crushes him against his knee breaking his back. As the last of his life slips away Bruynzeel whispers "Go easy warrior, find your friends and guide them to new life."
     
    After freshening up, Klaern heads directly to her room. It was a comfortable room, with a window near the bed, she liked that, she liked to look at the moon and stars as she fell asleep. She slips into the bed, warm beneath the furs and immediately is greeted by much needed sleep.

    But rest was not what her dreams had in mind for the wood elf. There were whispers against her ear, sounding like her father's voice,
    "Beware of Wyrm. Do not trust him." In her dream state, Klaern turned round and round to see if her father were indeed with her. No one was there, just the trees of the forest. "Father?" She called out tentatively. No response. Klaern began to look around, stepping between the trees with ease and grace.

    As she parts a few branches, Klaern notices her own clothing change, from her usual traveling gear to a soft, nearly see through linen gown that billows in the slight breeze, her hair is swept up on the back of her head with a few tendrils framing her face. There is a path of pink petals on the ground leading to an alter of some kind. Gently the wood elf steps forward towards the alter and sees her bow laying upon it.

    Slightly confused, but not feeling frightened at all, Klaern reaches out to the bow and once her hand touches it, it sparks, sending volts of electricity through her body. It burns deep into the wood elf, she can feel the heat travel through every fiber of her being but she refuses to let go of the prized bow. She raises it above her head and at once, she is relieved of the pain and cast in a soft amber glow from above.

    Klaern wakes with a start. The dream fading from active thought settles deeper into her mind where it will stay to send reminders of these visions from time to time until she can absorb the entirety of it's meaning.

    The sun has just made it's first appearance, she notes as her eyes take in the vista outside of her window. Perhaps she needs a good bit of morning air to allow her some peaceful reflection. Klaern dresses for the day and heads down and outside the inn to walk among the leaves and brambles heavy with morning dew to think and understand.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    Bruynzeel carefully searches the bodies and their small camp. Enough food for three days, older so the last of a week? He finds a few meaningless bobbles and trinkets, some possibly from the caravan. Their gear is not the best but not cheap either. There is a letter in one of their packs. Really nice paper and in a fine hand, A contract for service. The inital W.W., Bruynzeel puts it all together after pocketing the letter. Heads directly back to the inn not quite first light. He enters and goes to put on his gear. Packing his pack, securing his guitar.

    He is not sure what to think of this Wyrm. But he did know he had at least one group looking for Klaern. That this group had found them a few days back probably in the caravan. Not knowing if there would be more. Moving on was the best option. Staying here would endanger Teeja and Star, Andast would want to help but Bru didn't want him distracted from his family. Their safety had to be first for him. He sets about detailing that all in a Letter.


    He rummages around in the larder and pantry for food stuffs. packing an assortment. Then he sets his gear near the door. Returning to the kitchen he prepares a quick travel meal for himself and Klaern but in a fit of warmth he also preps the families food as well. Not cooking it but the full prep has been done. Placing the letter with his well wishes and instructions to get rid of the bodies, wiping the camp.

    Then with a coffee and his evidence he goes outside to sit on the patio. Only to find Klaern walking back from the woods, the morning dew soaking her boots. She looks peaceful, and content. When she notices him she smiles pulling a bit of stray hair from her face. A fresh sprig of Lavender in her hair on the opposite side. He demures in her beauty, smiling in return and approaching.
    "Fair Klaern, you are like a little song. A Leilana in an old tongue." He offers her some coffee and bids her to sit with him on the patio. Only the first dapples of the days light breaks through the leaves of the forest. Morning birds are singing and the small lives that abound scamper about. It is a fine day, if only his news was better.

    "I, I went for a walk earlier myself. I am afraid we need to move on. I found this." He says solomnly but with as much warmth as he could manage. while pulling the letter and a few trinkets from his pouch. Setting them on the table. She was quite attractive even in full gear she held herself well. There was something of a honor in being physically fit. She did a fine job at it.
     
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    Surprised to see Bruynzeel outside on the patio so early, Klaern feels the quickening of her heart as she approaches him, full smile taking over her entire face, especially brightening her green eyes, as if his mere presence gave her reason to be merry. "Cormamin lindua ele lle Bruynzeel." (My heart sings to see you Bruynzeel) Receiving her coffee, she sips it as Bruynzeel explains what he found on his walk. As he places the items on the table in front of him, Klaern reaches out with one hand to examine the trinkets, nothing she recognizes, so she takes the letter to read it.

    "I, well I know who W.W. is, he is my uncle Wyrm Willowwind. But this cannot be right. Why?" Was all she managed to say, her hand shaking a bit too much for her coffee, so she sets it aside while she thinks. Her dream flashes quickly and sharply back to mind- it was a warning. Something, there was something- about my bow.- she thought quickly. "Bruynzeel, there is something with my bow, it must be. I dreampt it. I do not understand what it means, but we must make certain that until we do understand, that Wyrm does not get his hands on it. We cannot trust him." The happiness from moments before was drained from her face, but to replace it was a determination to find out the mystery of the ill against between her uncle and herself and what, if any, mystery her bow held within it's wood.

    "If you found this close by, we shouldn't stay here. I couldn't stand it if I were to cause trouble to Andast's family." Although the morning was still beautiful and bright, it felt like a storm had blasted it's way through Klaern's body and mind. "I should get my pack together." Klaern mutters to herself, turning to take a look at a calm Bruynzeel who seems to have gathered his pack already and is sitting waiting for her to be still and quiet for moment.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    "My thoughts exactly, be quiet as you gather your gear. I don't wish to disturb Andast or Teeja. We should slip away quietly. I am already prepared. We will talk on the road. I would very much like to examine this bow. I have a suspicion already because of your village and a lost history, but I need to confirm it by delving into its magics. If it will even let me."

    bow_concept___i_by_aikurisu-d6wkv88.jpg

    Credit for image to Aikurisu on deviantart.com

    He feels certain that this might be the Fated Bow. A rare treasure said to have belonged to the Bosmer king when they had a king. Lost when the Aldmeri Dominion took control of Valenwood. The bow was said to always kill its intended target. There is a tale of a bow fired through a window and missing a crowded room of people to kill one man. That is rumored to be the Fated Bow. Last known existence of the bow was in the hands of the female ex-captain of the Kings guard some 275 years ago.

     
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    Klaern nods once to Bruynzeel and goes off to gather her pack and bow, being as nimble and quiet as she can, which is easy for her as she is naturally graceful in motion. In a few moments she rejoins Bruynzeel and together they head off together down the road quietly leaving Andast, Teeja and little Star, hopefully taking away the danger that is following them.

    Once they are down the path, far enough away from anyone or anything, Klaern speaks, but in a hushed tone, simply to keep anyone who might be trailing them from hearing what she is about to say.
    "Do you believe my bow to be special Bruynzeel? I know that since acquiring it, I have gotten really good- like it was made for me specifically." Softly, looking from side to side she whispers to Bruynzeel, "I never miss."


    She removes the bow from her back and looks at it. It looks like most other bows she had used over the years, it was her father's prized possession and was given to her on his death bed. She treasured it because of it's sentiment, but also knew she was much better with her aim and never missed an intended target.

    As the two companions walk, Klaern hands the bow over to Bruynzeel to inspect and watches how he turns it over in his hands, testing it's weight and balance.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    A simple wooden bow in appearance, only a slight ripple of a embedded ivy. Like a branch plucked from an old ash. It ways little yet has a dense nature. Pliant and springy. He holds it and nocks an arrow. He sees an apple on a nearby tree and aims to the right of it while thinking of it taking the apple. He releases it while holding his breath and watches it turn toward the apple splitting the apple in two. "This is Fates Bow, it never misses. It is a prize beyond measure. This in the wrong hands could do great harm. For instance an assassin that can kill whoever he wishes no matter where they are."

    He hands it back to Klaern.
    "We will have to find Wyrm I am afraid or he will find us. If he is the only other to know its true nature we will be alright but it means, well you can guess what it means. He sent three bandits to kill you, they lay in a camp just over that hill. I fell upon them and that is where I got the letter." He continues down the road. "We have many miles to go and some other hardships to bear. It is best if for now we worry about Wyrm when done with your funerary rites"
     
    Keeping pace with Bruynzeel as he explains the bow and his thoughts on what should be done. His demonstration was quite impressive and conclusive to both of them. He called it Fates Bow. Klaern places it back into position over her shoulder as they walk down the path together. "Wyrm has several places that I know of where he resides and visits. Last I heard, he was in my old village. However, you are correct. Let us worry over Wyrm after the funeral rites are completed."

    Thinking as they walk along together, silent for some time, Klaern speaks out loud some thoughts that are bothering her,
    "I believe that my father knew of the bow's true nature. He treasured it most of all. He had even told me to always keep it with me while he lay dying. Instead of sweet whisperings of love and regret, he spoke of the bow. It didn't make sense before, but it does now."

    As the day worn on, Klaern caught herself walking closer to the large Khajiit, feeling safe next to him. She ended up placing her hand on the crook of his arm as they walked, he didn't say anything so she left it there, needing his closeness without saying so out loud.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    Bruynzeel lets her last words soak in for a time, he thinks about the situation and how even in trying to protect her from the desire for the bow. The damage such jealousy causes, he turned her away. He did love her it just was difficult to get close while both protecting her and the bow. Which if Bruynzeel understood the situation through his deductions. He had already lost her mother to the scramble for control of the bow. Then his own life while on his death bed he had no choice but to do the one thing he had been avoiding. He had to give it to Klaern and impress upon her that it needed to be protected. Ironically just as he had finally come to that realization she put her hand in the crook of his arm. Steadily walking on he cups her hand.

    "I believe your father loved you very much. He trusted in your skill but was dragged down by the weight of the bow. Not that it weighs anything but the weight of how much life it has cost. I think your mother was the first to protect it and in so doing lost her life. He took up its protection but his sorrow told him of the cost and he tried to protect you from that as well."
     
    Klaern is comforted, not knowing how this, very nearly a stranger, Khajiit could deduce the pain of her life, the isolation she felt as her father had turned her away after the loss of her mother. Erramon's aloofness, gruffness and days away from the young wood elf, who really needed someone to lean on during her mourning, had cut a deep rift in her heart, for Klaern had believed that he blamed her for being female and not the male heir he had desired. But worse still, Klaern believed that Erramon did not love her.

    Klaern's tears fell silently down her cheeks, never missing a beat in their trek along the path, but the tears she had not spilled for her father's death were finally coming like rivers and she was not compelled to stop them or fight them back. If she had her father's love, for Klaern, that was enough- but now it was too late. Having Bruynzeel's paw on her was the best comfort she could ever have wished for, because he was strong and knowledgeable and would not lie to protect her from the truth, even if the truth was painful or hopeless.

    Klaern walks on with her Bruynzeel at her side, silently weeping but moving ever forward.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    As they pass along Bruynzeel allows Klaern to continue to mourn. Soon they come across the hints to a side path subtile and easily missed he walks toward a tree and some bushes near the side of the path. He gently move the brush to the side revealing a tight little path up the hill off to the east of the main road. As they ascend the hill a small hidden camp is revealed. A lean-to and campfire pit with spit a stack of wood and a chest.

    Bruynzeel set to setting up the camp setting up and starting a fire cleaning out the lean-to of old bedding and putting in new pine boughs. Then prepping a pair of stews one with and one without meat. After setting them to simmer he relaxes. Sitting on a log he starts to recount a story he attributes to the Fated Bow

    "This story is by a Bosmer named
    Gorgic Guine I will tell it as it is written word for word."

    I was young when the Duchess of Woda hired me as an assistant footman at her summer palace. My experience with the ways of the titled aristocracy was very limited before that day. There were wealthy merchants, traders, diplomats, and officials who had large operations in Eldenroot, and ostentatious palaces for entertaining, but my relatives were all far from those social circles.

    There was no family business for me to enter when I reached adulthood, but my cousin heard that an estate far from the city required servants. It was so remotely located that there were unlikely to be many applicants for the positions. I walked for five days into the jungles of Valenwood before I met a group of riders going my direction. They were three Bosmer men, one Bosmer woman, two Breton women, and a Dunmer man, adventurers from the look of them.

    "Are you also going to Moliva?" asked Prolyssa, one of the Breton women, after we had made our introductions.

    "I don't know what that is," I replied. "I'm seeking a domestic position with the Duchess of Woda."

    "We'll take you to her gate," said the Dunmer Missun Akin, pulling me up to his horse. "But you would be wise not to tell Her Grace that students from Moliva escorted you. Not unless you don't really want the position in her service."

    Akin explained himself as we rode on. Moliva was the closest village to the Duchess's estate, where a great and renowned archer had retired after a long life of military service. His name was Hiomaste, and though he was retired, he had begun to accept students who wished to learn the art of the bow. In time, when word spread of the great teacher, more and more students arrived to learn from the Master. The Breton women had come down all the way from the Western Reach of High Rock. Akin himself had journeyed across the continent from his home near the great volcano in Morrowind. He showed me the ebony arrows he had brought from his homeland. I had never seen anything so black.

    "From what we've heard," said Kopale, one of the Bosmer men. "The Duchess is an Imperial whose family has been here even before the Empire was formed, so you might think that she was accustomed to the common people of Valenwood. Nothing could be further from the truth. She despises the village, and the school most of all."

    "I suppose she wants to control all the traffic in her jungle," laughed Prolyssa.

    I accepted the information with gratitude, and found myself dreading more and more my first meeting with the intolerant Duchess. My first sight of the palace through the trees did nothing to assuage my fears.

    It was nothing like any building I had ever seen in Valenwood. A vast edifice of stone and iron, with a jagged row of battlements like the jaws of a great beast. Most of the trees near the palace had been hewn away long ago: I could only imagine the scandal that must have caused, and what fear the Bosmer peasants must have had of the Duchy of Woda to have allowed it. In their stead was a wide gray-green moat circling in a ring around the palace, so it seemed to be on a perfect if artificial island. I had seen such sights in tapestries from High Rock and the Imperial Province, but never in my homeland.

    "There'll be a guard at the gate, so we'll leave you here," said Akin, stopping his horse in the road. "It'd be best for you if you weren't damned by association with us."

    I thanked my companions, and wished them good luck with their schooling. They rode on and I followed on foot. In a few minutes' time, I was at the front gate, which I noticed was linked to tall and ornate railings to keep the compound secure. When the gate-keeper understood that I was there to inquire about a domestic position, he allowed me past and signaled to another guard across the open lawn to extend the drawbridge and allow me to cross the moat.

    There was one last security measure: the front door. An iron monstrosity with the Woda Coat of Arms across the top, reinforced by more strips of iron, and a single golden keyhole. The man standing guard unlocked the door and gave me passage into the huge gloomy gray stone palace.

    Her Grace greeted me in her drawing room. She was thin and wrinkled like a reptile, cloaked in a simple red gown. It was obviously that she never smiled. Our interview consisted of a single question.

    "Do you know anything about being a junior footman in the employment of an Imperial noblewoman?" Her voice was like ancient leather.

    "No, Your Grace."

    "Good. No servant ever understands what needs to be done, and I particularly dislike those who think they do. You're engaged."

    Life at the palace was joyless, but the position of junior footman was very undemanding. I had nothing to do on most days except to stay out of the Duchess's sight. At such times, I usually walked two miles down the road to Moliva. In some ways, there was nothing special or unusual about the village - there are thousands of identical places in Valenwood. But on the hillside nearby was Master Hiomaste's archery academy, and I would often take my luncheon and watch the practice.

    Prolyssa and Akin would sometimes meet me afterwards. With Akin, the subjects of conversation very seldom strayed far from archery. Though I was very fond of him, I found Prolyssa a more enchanting companion, not only because she was pretty for a Breton, but also because she seemed to have interests outside the realm of marksmanship.

    "There's a circus in High Rock I saw when I was a little girl called the Quill Circus," she said during one of our walks through the woods. "They've been around for as long as anyone can remember. You have to see them if you ever can. They have plays, and sideshows, and the most amazing acrobats and archers you've ever seen. That's my dream, to join them some day when I'm good enough."

    "How will you know when you're a good enough archer?" I asked.

    She didn't answer, and when I turned, I realized that she had disappeared. I looked around, bewildered, until I heard laughter from the tree above me. She was perched on a branch, grinning.

    "I may not join as an archer, maybe I'll join as an acrobat," she said. "Or maybe as both. I figured that Valenwood would be the place to go to see what I could learn. You've got all those great teachers to imitate in the trees here. Those ape men."

    She coiled up, bracing her left leg before springing forward on her right. In a second, she had leapt across to a neighboring branch. I found it difficult to keep talking to her.

    "The Imga, you mean?" I stammered. "Aren't you nervous up at that height?"

    "It's a cliche, I know," she said, jumping to an even higher branch, "But the secret is not to ever look down."

    "Would you mind coming down?"

    "I probably should anyhow," she said. She was a good thirty feet up now, balancing herself, arms outstretched, on a very narrow branch. She gestured toward the gate just barely visible on the other side of the road. "This tree is actually as close as I want to get to your Duchess's palace."

    I held back a gasp as she dove off the branch, somersaulting until she landed on the ground, knees slightly bent. That was the trick, she explained. Anticipating the blow before it happened. I expressed to her my confidence that she would be a great attraction at the Quill Circus. Of course, I know now that never was to be.

    On that day, as I recall, I had to return early. It was one of the rare occasions when I had work, of a sort, to do. Whenever the Duchess had guests, I was to be at the palace. That is not to say that I had any particular duties, except to be seen standing at attention in the dining room. The stewards and maids worked hard to bring in the food and clear the plates afterwards, but the footmen were purely decorative, a formality.

    But at least I was an audience for the drama to come.

    On the last dinner in my employ at the palace, the Duchess, quite surprisingly, had invited the mayor of Moliva and Master Hiomaste himself among her other guests. The servants' gossip was manic. The mayor had been there before, albeit very irregularly, but Hiomaste's presence was unthinkable. What could she mean by such a conciliatory gesture?

    The dinner itself progressed along with perfect if slightly cool civility among all parties. Hiomaste and the Duchess were both very quiet. The Mayor tried to engage the group in a discussion of the Emperor Pelagius IV's new son and heir Uriel, but it failed to spark much interest. Lady Villea, elderly but much more vivacious than her sister the Duchess, led most of the talk about crime and scandal in Eldenroot.

    "I have been encouraging her to move out to the country, away from all that unpleasantness for years now," the Duchess said, meeting the eyes of the Mayor. "We've been discussing more recently the possibility of her building a palace on Moliva Hill, but there's so little space there as you know. Fortunately, we've come to a discovery. There is a wide field just a few days west, on the edge of the river, ideally suited."

    "It sounds perfect," the Mayor smiled and turned to Lady Villea: "When will your ladyship begin building?"

    "The very day you move your village to the site," replied the Duchess of Woda.

    The Mayor turned to her to see if she was joking. She obviously was not.

    "Think of how much more commerce you could bring to your village if you were close to the river," said Lady Villea jovially. "And Master Hiomaste's students could have easier access to his fine school. Everyone would benefit. I know it would put my sister's heart to ease if there was less trespassing and poaching on her lands."

    "There is no poaching or trespassing on your lands now, Your Grace," frowned Hiomaste. "You do not own the jungle, nor will you. The villagers may be persuaded to leave, that I don't know. But my school will stay where it is."

    The dinner party never really recovered happily. Hiomaste and the Mayor excused themselves, and my services, such as they were, were not needed in the drawing room where the group went to have their drinks. There was no laughter to be heard through the walls that evening.

    The next day, even though there was a dinner planned for the evening, I left on my usual walk to Moliva. Before I had even reached the drawbridge, the guard held me back: "Where are you going, Gorgic? Not to the village, are you?"

    "Why not?"

    He pointed to the plume of smoke in the distance: "A fire broke out very early this morning, and it's still going. Apparently, it started at Master Hiomaste's school. It looks like the work of some traveling brigands."

    "Blessed Stendarr!" I cried. "Are the students alive?"

    "No one knows, but it'd be a miracle if any survived. It was late and most everyone was sleeping. I know they've already found the Master's body, or what was left of it. And they also found that girl, your friend, Prolyssa."

    I spent the day in a state of shock. It seemed inconceivable what my instinct told me: that the two noble old ladies, Lady Villea and the Duchess of Woda, had arranged for a village and school that irritated them to be reduced to ashes. At dinner, they mentioned the fire in Moliva only very briefly, as if it were not news at all. But I did see the Duchess smile for the first time ever. It was a smile I will never forget until the day I die.

    The next morning, I had resolved to go to the village and see if I could be of any assistance to the survivors. I was passing through the servants' hall to the grand foyer when I heard the sound of a group of people ahead. The guards and most of the servants were there, pointing at the portrait of the Duchess that hung in the center of the hall.

    There was a single black bolt of ebony piercing the painting, right at the Duchess's heart.

    I recognized it at once. It was one of Missun Akin's arrows I had seen in his quiver, forged, he said, in the bowels of Dagoth-Ur itself. My first reaction was relief: the Dunmer who had been kind enough to give me a ride to the palace had survived the fire. My second reaction was echoed by all present in the hall. How had the vandal gotten past the guards, the gate, the moat, and the massive iron door?

    The Duchess, arriving shortly after I, was clearly furious, though she was too well bred to show it but by raising her web-thin eyebrows. She wasted no time in assigning all her servants to new duties to keep the palace grounds guarded at all times. We were given regular shifts and precise, narrow patrols.

    The next morning, despite all precautions, there was another black arrow piercing the Duchess's portrait.

    So it continued for a week's time. The Duchess saw to it that at least one person was always present in the foyer, but somehow the arrow always found its way to her painting whenever the guard's eyes were momentarily averted.

    A complex series of signals were devised, so each patrol could report back any sounds or disturbances they encountered during their vigil. At first, the Duchess arranged them so her castellan would receive record of any disturbances during the day, and the chief of the guard during the night. But when she found that she could not sleep, she made certain that the information came to her directly.

    The atmosphere in the palace had shifted from gloomy to nightmarish. A snake would slither across the moat, and suddenly Her Grace would be tearing through the east wing to investigate. A strong gust of wind ruffling the leaves on one of the few trees in the lawn was a similar emergency. An unfortunate lone traveler on the road in front of the palace, a completely innocent man at it turned out, brought such a violent reaction that he must have thought that he had stumbled on a war. In a way, he had.

    And every morning, there was a new arrow in the front hall, mocking her.

    I was given the terrible assignment of guarding the portrait for a few hours in the early morning. Not wanting to be the one to discover the arrow, I seated myself in a chair opposite, never letting my eyes move away for even a second. I don't know if you've had the experience of watching one object relentlessly, but it has a strange effect. All other senses vanish. That was why I was particularly startled when the Duchess rushed into the room, blurring the gulf for me between her portrait and herself.

    "There's something moving behind the tree across the road from the gate!" she roared, pushing me aside, and fumbling with her key in the gold lock.

    She was shaking with madness and excitement, and the key did not seem to want to go in. I reached out to help her, but the Duchess was already kneeling, her eye to the keyhole, to be certain that the key went through.

    It was precisely in that second that the arrow arrived, but this one never made it as far as the portrait.

    I actually met Missun Akin years later, while I was in Morrowind to entertain some nobles. He was impressed that I had risen from being a humble domestic servant to being a bard of some renown. He himself had returned to the ashlands, and, like his old master Hiomaste, was retired to the simple life of teaching and hunting.

    I told him that I had heard that Lady Villea had decided not to leave the city, and that the village of Modiva had been rebuilt. He was happy to hear that, but I could not find a way to ask him what I really wanted to know. I felt like a fool just wondering if what I thought were true, that he had been behind Prolyssa's tree across the road from the gate every morning that summer, firing an arrow through the gate, across the lawn, across the moat, through a keyhole, and into a portrait of the Duchess of Woda until he struck the Duchess herself. It was clearly an impossibility. I chose not to ask.

    As we left one another that day, and he was waving good-bye, he said, "I am pleased to see you doing so well, my friend. I am happy you moved that chair."
     
    Settled down with Bruynzeel awaiting their stews, Klaern listens to the story of the Fated Bow. She is taking in the tale, imagining easily the situation Gorgic Guine found himself in and the things the Fated Bow was capable of and why. Klaern herself knew there were magics in the world that were incredible and very real. If this were truly the Fated Bow, then she must keep it safe and out of the hands of those that would exploit it's powers. Klaern wonders at what power grab her uncle is attempting by taking possession of this bow.

    Once the story is complete, Klaern asks Bruynzeel a very important question,
    "Zeel, if this is truly the Fated Bow, does it belong even in my hands? What if I cannot keep it safe? I would never allow it to corrupt my own heart, but what if something should happen to me? Are there places of safety for such magical items that could shield it from becoming another item of destruction and chaos?"

    She opens her water skin and takes a long drink and passes it to Bruynzeel.
    "One thing I know for certain, we should make haste to complete my father's funeral ritual and not tarry very long in one place. I am glad you knew of this camp, it will not put anyone else in danger and is pretty well hidden from view." Thinking then, "Is this a camp you created yourself?" That thought just hitting her, she had been so caught up in her emotions over her relationship with her father and then the story of the Bosmer and the Fated Bow that it was the first time she wondered how Bruynzeel had known to come here.

    The aroma of the stew was making it apparent that Klaern was hungrier than she thought. Klaern checks on it and it looks done, so she serves it to both of them using the two small wooden bowls she has in her pack, wanting to help Bruynzeel out as he has been taking such good care of her through all of these trials, which unfortunately are most likely just the beginning of trouble for them.
     

    Bruynzeel

    *ー* SHEW *ー*
    "It belongs in your hands better than anyone else's. If that changes I will let you know. But to answer your other question, yes there is a place to hide away things better off in no one's hands but not everything needs that. This may be better off in the hands of a good person." He takes the wooden bowl of stew enjoys it. Then get passed the water skin.

    "There are camps like this all over. Some are mine some are from other travellers, this is not mine. But they all are very similar. I started leaving mine quite a while back. others started popping up over time. Travel the roads and look for three stones stacked and you will know there is one nearby. Tomorrow we will be inside Halldir's Cairn. An ancient Dwemer trade tunnel. Most likely holding Falmer, Charus, and Daugur. But since you hit what your aiming at we should be fine." and he winks at her. Then pulls his guitar out.

     
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    Klaern enjoys her meal with Bruynzeel. "Thank you for making this especially for me." She comments offhandedly and then smiles softly. Finishing up the meal, he describes how to locate a safe camp. "Thank you again Zeel. I appreciate all the help you are offering me. I never realized a lot of these things, only ever really traveling with a caravan of our own village folk and never actually very far at that. "

    "Perhaps I will need actual training though, at some point, with a different bow to see exactly how skilled I really am or if it's simply my bow." She bites her lower lip as she thinks about that. "My father trained me in archery, however it was always using this bow. I never understood how natural it seemed to come to me, never missing a target. Maybe after we get some place safer and things are more sorted out."

    She cleans the bowls and the pots they used to cook the stews in as he gets set up with the guitar. Once finished, she sits back down directly on the ground in front of Bruynzeel and watches him play, allowing the music to relax her. She closes her eyes, her mind calm and peaceful in this small camp with her new companion. During his performance, she opens her eyes and admires him, his skill with the guitar, the way he is able to manipulate it to sing to her soul, and his handsome look. He doesn't show any sign of his age, muscles rippling beneath his fur. But it is the spark of life in his eyes that holds the wood elf captive. She wants to learn all there is to know about him, but it would take lifetimes for her do that, but she certainly wouldn't mind spending hers at his side.

    She claps at the end of his performance and watches him slightly bow to her. Her smile is genuine and sweet, truly appreciative of all he is doing to help her, not just on this journey but with all the knowledge and compassion he shows her. Looking to the sky which is filled with the soft twinkling of starshine, Klaern says,
    "It is time to sleep, I am exhausted."

     

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