Tamriel Data:The Restless North, Book II

Book Information The Restless North, Book II
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ID	T_Bk_RestlessNorthSHOTN_V2
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The Restless North, Book II

by Alarne Gold-Quill

A tale of Nords, Tsaesci and Draugr

---

"There are many magicks in this world, and they clash and dominate their fellows as ruthlessly as the men and gods who wield them."

"Many of you are feeling the cold tonight," began Pak Stoat-Face, respected clever-man of the central valleys, "Yet you stoke your fires in ignorance and huddle under your cloaks with foolishness, because you do not question why you should be so cold when autumn has not yet passed. You are fortunate Nords, because I will tell you and so keep you from waking frozen on the morrow with a draugr’s claws crushing your throat."

That remark certainly got the crowd’s attention.

"Five hundred years ago, on this very night, the Tjaski-men burned their way through these parts on their journey south. A confederation of kings gathered here to stop them, and were obliterated. And as your mothers told you in your cribs, undeath always follows great dying. When the gates to the Underworld are choked with fleeing spirits, and their souls fill every crack and fissure that might lead away from this world; that is when those left behind are forced to linger in their corpse-homes."

There was a murmur of agreement from the assembly, because this was sensible and known. Hoari shivered and huddled a little closer to the men around him.

"We are the men who keep Old Knocker at bay," Pak Stoat-Face continued, "and it is we who tell you that tonight, on the eve of so great a slaughter five hundred years past, you must placate these lasting shadows. Otherwise you may wake to find that your body is not your own, and that your own spirit has been cast out to wander the hills and forests. Or you will simply be dead. Either way, you will not be disposed to free our land from the scaled boot of our oppressor and that is why we have deigned to advise you this night. Listen closely."

"What boot?" a soldier near Hoari muttered, "Snake-men haven't any legs." The soldiers nearby hushed him and strained forward so as not to miss a word.

"Each tent must take some of their provisions -- their own provisions, for this must be a sacrifice -- and lay them outside in the following way. On the ground by the tent’s entrance, a line of cooking flour. This is to be done first, and stepped over carefully thereafter so it is not disturbed. Then, you should build a small cairn of local rocks and place atop it a cut of the meat you enjoy most. If you are a stupid and impulsive vallagh and have eaten all your meat already, sprinkle some snowberries atop the cairn instead but know that this will confer a lesser protection.

"Finally, each tentmate should spill a drop of blood from their sword-hand into a mug of ale from which all will drink, so that you are bound by blood and the draugr will fear to challenge you. Only by observance of all these rites will you be safe tonight. Now begone! Get back to your fires, before you dolts forget my words and the great army of Rog the Biter..." Here he looked dubiously at the mangy throng. "...are destroyed before they ever see battle."

As he finished, the second clever-man beside him uttered some unheard words into his ear. Pak nodded and both men wordlessly turned away and strode into the darkness beyond the campfire’s reach. The crowd watched them go until they had vanished from sight, and then were still for a moment before, as one, they dispersed back to their tents to carry out the ritual Pak had devised to keep them safe. Hoari himself hurried back to relay the clever-man’s words to his tent-mate Demka.

END OF THE SECOND PART