[I][B]A Redoran Epilogue: But Home is So Far Away[/B] A Farewell to Niernen, [@Hank]‘s fantastic character[/I]

It had seemed that the city was determined to keep its occupants from resting, let alone finding a moment’s piece. After the fierce fighting on the docks, Niernen had enjoyed a certain small amount of celebrity amongst those in the Grey Quarter, who had all but ensured she never wanted for anything that evening after Do’Karth, the khajiit she had developed a fond respect for, and herself had proven themselves fighting against the Kamal, the Snow Demons. The dunmer battlemage had little time to rest from her ordeal, as it seemed that the dunmer residents of the great stone city were all too eager to have a chance to buy her a round or listen to her tell her story, which she soon discovered that the defenders on the walls who witnessed her were all too eager to verify regardless of how embellished the tale became. While she direly wished for water and rest, it was hard to deny the allure of being the heroine that the dunmer people seemed to direly need in such trying times.

However, as the next days passed, things just became more and more sour and the Redoran battlemage, heroine of the decks, seemed to slip from people’s minds as the argonians grew restless and a brawl even seemed to open up in the streets, accumulating in a full-on riot. A kindly mother had sheltered and fed her since her fleeting moments of celebrity, and she was in no hurry to rush out to the streets to fight for a group of dunmer she had no stakes with; a flickering sense of nationalistic pride filled her, after all her and her family had struggled to remain in and regain Morrowind’s sense of grandeur, and yet these refugees had fled the moment things had become hard to become second class citizens to the Nords, with whom the dunmer fought so much in their past. Niernen was of course above all these things, but any excuse not to have her skull bashed in from a club was fine by her. She had to regain her strength for the gathering storm outside the gates. The Kamal were still there, and despite what these foolish argonians might have thought, they were not creatures that would simply allow people to leave. 

After this, things went rather fast. Catching sight of members of the company running through the streets, Niernen rushed outside to greet them, and discovered that the city’s Jarl had died in a trial by combat with what was probably the Kamal’s commander, or at least one that claimed to be. Around 100 men and women had rushed out immediately to avenge him, and by their diminishing screams, Windhelm’s doom was soon going to be within the walls. She did not have much time to gather her meager belongings, and clutching the battle honour ribbon tightly to her breast, soon found herself fleeing into the sewers, a disgusting compromise that did not seem so bad compared to what happened to those who were caught in the open. 

Her crimson eyes flashed in the dark, searching for anyone she could recognize at least a passing acquaintanceship, including Do’Karth, who seemed to be one she could really use at the moment. Those around her were strangers, and a panic gripped her; where were the people she knew? A man in Dawnguard armour brushed past her, and as they crossed a threadbare plank across a chasm, it cracked underfoot as she hurried across, not quite making it. Screaming, her fingers shot out and reached for any purchase. To her horror, the filth and dampness prevented her fingers from clinging to the stones, and she knew then she was going to fall to her death, along with the Dawnguard who had slipped ahead and cracked his brow off of the stonework. Unable to even chatter off a prayer in her fear of death, her arms were almost over when firm hands caught her, preventing her and another from falling to the invisible depths below, pulling her to her feet. Wanting to sob, but feeling the resolve of a warrior’s spirit given a second wind, she resisted the urge to brush the struggling tears in her eyes and accepted the fact her body was suffering from the worst stress imaginable. She was not going to die in a fucking sewer; it simply would be undignified.

The survivors of the collapse had made it out into the open not long after, finding themselves exposed. Even Garm, who had trotted dutifully ahead of her and had not left her side in the past several days, seemed unusually subdued. As far as Niernen could tell, they had existed by the outermost farmsteads, behind the Kamal siege lines, and she allowed herself a moment of hope that she would escape with her life. Everyone moved as quietly as possible, but as with any large group of people, they were soon noticed and set upon by monstrous steeds and calvary. The dunmer battlemage scrambled as much as she could, realizing she was close to the rear and extremely vulnerable. The terrible 8-legged beast bore down on her with its horrible slug-like visage, and she let loose yet another ear piecing scream of terror, willing a ball of fire to form in her hands as she simply reacted to the death that set out to claim her.

Garm, her beloved Nix hound, did not hesitate and with a fierce roar, leapt at the slug-bear and bit into its thick fur, the nixhound savagely shaking its head to and fro with determination to keep his master safe. The two creatures battled, and the Kamal rider was dislodged. Niernen had no choice but to flee, fearing for Garm when she heard an anguished yelp that she couldn’t be entirely sure who it belonged to, but she knew Garm gave his life for her. Cursing the gods and the Kamal for their actions, she scrambled without a thought but escape as she crested a hill into the woods, and kept running.

Hours had passed, and Niernen became more and more aware that she had lost sight of literally anyone, and she was utterly alone. Wrapping her arms around herself to shield herself from the cold night, she stumbled ahead, feeling as if death were still at her heels but nothing could be done to keep it from finding her. Looking up at a clearing in the treeline, the smoke bellowing from the Red Mountain was visible and she felt a resolve; she had to go home, she had to at least try. With a determined sigh, she continued trudging through the heavy snow, feeling fatigue but not giving in. She would do it, damn it all. She was [I]Redoran[/I], and that meant something.

An unearthly howl sounded off in the hills behind Niernen, and a chill ran through her spine. It wasn’t far off now.