#Hil'Jit

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Hil'Jit of the Burning Sands: Chapter One

Chapter 1: Smuggler's Oversight

"Tell me again, khajiit. Why should I believe you that you know the Half-Giant?" The nord before Hil'Jit was an inch or two taller than him. The 'Half-Giant' was almost two heads taller than both of them. Hil'Jit didn't know if Titanborn was truly a half-giant but it didn't matter. She was a terrific fighter who was known to clear a battlefield on her own. 

"You do not have to believe this one, it would just be in your best interest to." Hil'Jit responded. If he knew anything about Lady Titanborn, she was standing behind him already. 

The nords face dropped, as he looked at the figure walking up the dock. 

"Wait, so you do know the Half-Giant? That's Lyris Titanborn! You weren't lying?"

"Of course not, now listen, if you go get the pommel of your favorite sword, this one can get her to autograph it for you." He smiled hoping it added just enough to the story to convince him. 

"Really? You promise? Okay wait here!" The nord rushed off, his face a look of amazement as he passed Lyris. The way people looked at his larger than life companion always gave him a chuckle. Normally he was one of the tallest wherever he went. He was not a small man at just over six feet tall, but everywhere he went in skyrim the nords were his height or taller. Lyris was no exception, though perhaps she broke the rule. She towered over everyone. 

"Let us go," Hil'Jit said, unlocking the door the nord had been guarding. 

"What did you say to him?" Lyris asked once they were inside. "I thought things were going to be a little rougher than that."

"Let's just say, you have many fans in this kingdom," Hil'Jit said as he opened one of the boxes with the red paint on the side. 

"Ashes? Again?" He said, his brain working like a dwemer machine. Maybe Lyris could even hear it turning. 

"Something is not right here. All of these boxes have the same thing inside?" Her last sentence was less of a question and more of an oddly inflected statement. Before Hil'Jit could announce that he'd had an idea, the door behind Lyris opened and three nords walked in holding weapons. The one in front, a shorter woman that Hil'Jit had already seen before spoke up. 

"Well well, looks like we caught some rats poking around in our warehouse." She growled, trying her best to sound intimidating, "Why don't we show them what we do to rats?"

"You're welcome to try," Lyris said.

The hair on Hil'Jit's neck went up from the comment and he stepped in front of the Half-Giant. 

"Now, now, no need to fight," The khajiit flashed a smile at all of the parties involved, and got a slight grin from the usually stone-faced Titanborn. "We are investigating a murder and trying to stop an assassination here. What can you tell us about the crates?"

"Those ones are from Bankogai, someone paid us to transport the boxes." The leader said, apprehensive in her tone. 

"And you never checked inside the boxes to see what you were smuggling?" Hil'Jit asked, opening another box to reveal a collection of ashes and crumbled bones. A threat on a king of skyrim, let alone the attempt Lyris has already stopped on the other king in Windhelm. Hil'Jit searched every possible answer he could find that his brain held. The Icereach Coven was involved, that much they knew. 

"In my line of work they generally pay us NOT to look into any of the shipments, this one particularly well."

"Fair enough. Well you've got to know something. Where were these shipments headed?" Lyris cut in.

"They were headed to Kilkreath Temple. That was our next destination." The leader responded. 

Lyris' face crunched as she thought. The temple of Meridia? Hil'Jit had passed it on his way to Solitude. The priests and pilgrims of Merida had been in a tough spot when he passed by. A storm of sorts had caused havoc the day before and separated, even killed worshippers.  

It was there he would meet the vampire Fennorian, another whom Hil'Jit would count as his friends as far as things went since Molag Bal's invasion started. 

It was outside Kilkreath Temple that Hil'Jit met Fenn. The vampire was rather easy to spot, despite Hil'Jit only knowing what the Elsweyr strain of the disease looked like. His eyes had an unnatural discoloration to them and when he walked outside during the day, he tended to wear a coat and hood. 

"Kilkreath was more of the same, a lot more questions than answers." Hil'Jit said, already having passed through the old shrine to Meridia once. "This one helped some of the priests there recover worshippers and pilgrims earlier. There were others, though that I didn't have the time nor foresight now that I think of it."

"You head to the temple, I'll meet you there after I have a talk with King Svargrim. See if you missed anything."

Hil'Jit nodded and walked out of the small warehouse. 

The cold northern wind blew in from the Sea of Ghosts to the north, bringing with it more grim news. A ship holding a great amount of money and valuables was lost somewhere among the ice flows. The rumors say that the Ice Queen was the culprit, but even Hil'Jit thought she was a legend. Something the nords told their children so they wouldn't stray too close to the ocean. 

With the chill seeping in, Hil'Jit headed west past the Solitude Stables. The verdant forest of Northwestern skyrim was blooming and busy during the summer time, and he took in the many smells around him. To the north, not far away he could smell a large creature, not exactly unpleasant but certainly something that could use a bath. 

"Boar, come on now, you know this one has a nose just as sensitive as you," Hil’Jit said aloud as he walked down the cobbled path. His friend was always close, the bear that he had raised since it was a cub. Boar, as Hil'Jit called him, never let the khajiit far out of his sight for very long. They shared a bond, one that Hil'Jit suspected was connected to the ancient magic of Hircine. He could feel all of Boar's feelings and was sure Boar could feel his. 

Rather silently the bear padded through the forest and joined Hil'Jit on the trail. He held a rather feral look in his eye at the moment and Hil'Jit knew the bear had been hunting for food. And by the looks of things, found something. 

A shadow cast on the ground as Hil'Jit thought about the bear's lunch and what it could have been. He looked up to see the familiar outline of a cliff racer against the skyrim sky. 

"And I knew you were keeping watch the whole time, Uril." The creature gave a squawk and closed its wings, diving towards the ground. Just above Hil'Jit's head it opened its wings again and floated down onto the khajiits shoulder. Hil'Jit brought his hand up and gave the racer a little scratch under its chin, then slid it a piece of mammoth jerky from his pack. The cliff racer swallowed the meat whole and nestled itself into the pack Hil'Jit was wearing. 

"Alright, I guess it's nap time," he continued to march on. Kilkreath Temple was a few hours away from Solitude, further north and west where the snow was still fresh on the ground. 

"Go on ahead, Boar. Let me know if those fiends are still around." Hil'Jit said and the bear bounded off down the trail.

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[sosuaveh]

Hil'Jit met a friend.

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"Vestige, come find me. I am at The Harborage. "

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GIRL GET YOUR BRANDY

[sosuaveh]

Hil'jit of the Burning Sands

Hil'Jit the Burning Sand was born on a stormy night at the end of Morning Star. His mother and father belonged to a small tribe of nomadic Khajiit that migrated from Northern and Southern Elswyr. The jungles never suited him however and when he grew old enough he traveled to southern Morrowind to learn from a great Argonian Warden, Shows-the-Way. Tragedy struck during the end of his training, and his mentor was killed in the beginning of the Deadric Prince Molag Bal's assault of Nirn. Hil'Jit survived only because of the knowledge he learned from the old sage and the help of a loyal cliff racer who followed him through Oblivion.

"He was different, though he never knew exactly why. Because of his particular trait, he preferred to live away from the city. He didn't expect his exceptional trait, would leave him the enemy of Molag Bal, and a key part in the turning of the Era."

[sosuaveh]

The next phase for our cat after the gray host is already being planned.

And things are heating up in the Gray Host arc next.

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"You say what now?" -Hil'Jit of the Burning Sand

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Hil'Jit and Boar, the bear.

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"This one fears the tiny little Alfiq that guards the temples in Elsweyr just as much as our larger brothers and sisters." - Hil'Jit of the Burning Sand

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Caska, Hil'Jit, and Za'ji. A few cool cats.

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"This one was unsure that you survived that, Lady Titanborn." -Hil'Jit of the Burning Sands

[sosuaveh]

Hil'Jit of the Burning Sand

Elder Scrolls Online Fanfic

Chapter 2: Meridia's Dusk

The sun was beginning to set when Hil'Jit made it to Mount Kilkreath and the situation had not improved since he had been here last. On his last venture through here, he met a few of the priests of Meridia who had taken refuge in a nearby cave. From what he could tell, they were still there a day later, not able to move their wounded. His first priority would be to check on the priests and see that they escape, as soon as possible. 

He wasn't sure what the Reachwitches were planning, but their actions had already taken dozens of lives. On his first venture through the temple, he learned of the storm, which he thought was a very unusual storm at the time.  It had scattered worshipers and priests across the mountainside complex. He had found something rather disturbing as well, the zombified husk of one of the priests, standing over what Hil'Jit assumed to be one of the worshippers. Not far away in a cabin, a single survivor proved his guess correct. It wasn't the kind of thing he liked to be right about. Inside the temple, he and a priest went looking for the high priest of Meridia, and only found a feral monstrosity that tried to kill them on sight. Had Hil'Jit not been there, the priest Roxana would have certainly perished. Hil'Jit put an end to the High Priest's suffering, and helped Roxana back to her cave with all the other worshippers and priests. 

A faint light emitted from the deep recess of the cave, telling Hil'Jit that someone was still inside. He crouched down and silently stalked his way into the cave, watching where he placed each foot so as to not draw attention to himself. 

He could still smell the priests and worshippers as he went further in, and soon he could see that the camp they had made in here was unharmed. A few of them were still obviously injured from the storm and were being cared for by a few of the priests. 

Upon recognizing him, Roxana rose from her seat near the small fire pit they had made and rushed over to the khajiit. 

"You're back? I expected we would leave this place before you ever returned but we've had a slow go of it." Roxana said, looking back at the wounded laying on makeshift cots and bedrolls behind her. 

"No, this one came to make sure you all were alright still. Uril had been keeping an eye on you for a while," he motioned towards the still napping cliff racer on the top of his pack. 

"That's good to know," she smiled slightly. "We will leave as soon as we can. Jurod has been fighting for his life and we cannot leave him yet."

"This one understands, Roxana. Have you noticed anything else since the storm the other day? This one suspects the storm was caused by the foul dark magic of the Reachmen."

Roxana nodded, cupping her chin with her hand in thought. 

"I've noticed more of the zombified animals since yesterday, similar to the ferocity of the high priest."

On his way to the temple he too had noticed the bears and wolves who acted in an unnatural manner. They had been far out of their normal range for the time of year. 

"Zombified? Yes, that makes sense," Hil'Jit said, connecting a few more dots. "Do you think the storm could have anything to do with that?"

"It is the biggest culprit. Good luck, Hil'Jit. May Meridia guide you." Roxana blessed Hil'Jit, touching him on the shoulder lightly before sitting back down near the fire. 

"Goodbye, friend Roxana," Hil'Jit muttered, crossing his arms in his own blessing. What will become of these folks? If I see any of the feral creatures I'll be sure to end them. Hil'Jit thought. 

Hil’Jit was not a khajiit to arm himself lightly. Even before he left Elsweyr he was a rather skilled hunter, his favorite weapon being the longbow used by the wood elves of Valenwood. That skill helped during his training with Shows-the-Way, though he still had much to learn from the old argonian in his many lessons. Still despite every philosophy his mentor taught him, he still taught him many ways to defend himself. Hil’Jil’s mind went back to one of the first lesson’s his mentor taught him. 

“The things I am teaching you today, Burning Sand, are the same as the foundation of a house. They will be built upon even long after I show you the Way of the Yam.”

Hil’Jit, even now as he walked through the cold reaches of Northwestern Skyrim, he was hardly able to keep a smile stifled as he thought of the flourish that Shows-the-Way would do as he said his catchphrase. The argonian would bring both hands together in an exaggerated manner not unlike he was praying then unleash a forward lunge and punch with both arms as he said ‘the Yam.” If he couldn’t do the flourish, he would not say the words, instead opting to refer to it as ‘his way’ in Jel.

The cold wind of skyrim brought his attention back to the present and he peered around a rather thick trunked tree and watched as the husk of a worshiper followed like a hound behind a hooded figure. From his spot in the treeline it was clear that they were heading towards the temple but just beyond them Hil’Jit saw something that was not there the day before. A witch’s staff of some sort, almost as tall as Hil’Jit protruding out of the ground. Around it was a runic circle, drawn in either a red ochre or something far more sinister.

Hil’Jit checked the pouch of arrows on his back, some of them were slightly different in nature but he held around forty at any given time. On his left hip was a small sword, something that was quick and light. On his right, he always carried a heavier one handed axe of dwemer metal that he bought in Vivec. 

Breaking from the treeline, Hil’jit awoke the cliff racer on his back and told her to keep watch from the cliffs above. With that he followed the tracks in the fresh snow. Despite the summer, Skyrim was as snowy as usual on Mount Kilkreath. They tracked around a bend and over a stone bridge, passing the largest statue of Meridia he had ever seen. With her hands to the sky, it seemed as though she herself was beseeching aid for what was befalling on her peaceful temple. The bridge crossed onto a stone platform that led into the Temple proper, which was built into the mountain many years ago. 

The footsteps led up to the door, around several rotting corpses. 

Noone has been able to move them. Hil’Jit noted in his mind. He paused in front of the door before opening it. Turning back he looked at the scene that was before him. By the looks of it, these poor people were torn apart by the storm, or whatever the storm made from the dark magic that summoned it.

Taking a deep breath, Hil’jit closed his eyes and reached out with both hands. Letting the power build up in his chest, he waited until it felt like he was about to burst before he let the magic flow through his hands. When he opened his eyes next, the bodies were covered in spores of mushrooms and small colorful flowers. Around the edge of the circle of bodies was an ominous ring of white capped mushrooms.

“You’ve got some power there, friend,” The familiar voice of Fennorian would have scared Hil’Jit to sleep had he not smelled and heard the vampire approaching.

“Fenn! You have joined this one!”

“Yes, I saw that you were approaching and I was doing a little more poking around. There was another Harrowstorm last night. That’s what the reading I've been doing about this Reachmagic says it’s called anyway.”

“Wonderful, well this one is just waiting for Lady Titan-”

“DON’T MOVE, YOU BLOODSUCKER, YOU STAY AWAY FROM THAT CAT.”

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[sosuaveh]

Hil'Jit chapter 3 is almost done

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Hil'Jit of the Burning Sands: Prologue

The journey was nothing like what Hil'Jit had ever been on. A boat took him from Pellitine in Elsweyr all the way to Morrowind, Seyda Neen to be exact. A backwater by anyone's admission though Hil'Jit learned from experience not to say that in front of the locals. He became as used to the ash storms of Morrowind in the five years he spent as a student to the sage he knew as Shows-the-Way. Under the tutelage of the argonian, he learned the 'Way of the Yam', as his master put it. He called them Wardens, since that was what most of the locals called them.  It was with Shows-the-Way that Hil'Jit learned to play the flute as well, though now he prefer to play with a group. 

The old argonian had been like a father to Hil'Jit. The cubs of the Black Sands tribe had a very peculiar upbringing. They lived in a very communal tribe making a meager living along the border of North and South Elsweyr. His father was a hunter for the tribe, and doing little more than that for young Hil'Jit and his littermates. 

Hil'Jit did not blame them, either of his parents. Some people are not meant to be parents, Khajiit included. Shows-the-Way did more than his chosen name implied, he brought people together and gave them the skills to help Tamriel. That's what he did for the Khajiit at least. That's what it looked like he did to countless others during that short five years. 

The chains of Oblivion still haunt Hil'Jit's dreams. The day Molag Bal took his mentor from him was fresh in his mind every time he lay down to rest. One bright mark on an otherwise gloomy time was the companions he traveled with. (He hadn't met most of them upon his arrival in Skyrim).

One that he did find, the same day he would arrive in Skyrim was the largest woman he had ever seen. Titanborn was her name, at least that is all he allowed himself to call her, with a lady in front. He feared she might squish him when she looked at him the first time they met. After a contact of hers had been murdered in the midst of a scouting expedition, he became the informal fill-in.  

Hil'Jit was not a small Khajiit, not one of the Senche-Rhat or the warrior types but he was not one of the usual sneaky and quiet types. He could be, but he stood a head taller than his next tallest sibling. 

Hil'Jit was glad to be put to some use in Skyrim, even if for a while it seemed like they were just hunting smugglers and trying to stop an assassination. Which they were trying to stop an assassination, but quickly Hil'Jit found that things were much deeper than simple regicide. 

There was magic that was older and more ancient than any mage who lived at play in Western Skyrim. 

And it all goes back to the moment the man with a hole in his chest the size of an apple, found his way to the center of Solitude to hand A Khajiit from the Burning Sands Tribe a bundle of notes and a request. Hil'Jit was not one to break his word. Even if he had to delve into the Nordic ruins and kill those disgusting draugr! 

And then there is the matter that confirmed his giftedness. What else could be said of the khajiit who never tired and never expired? Most had fanciful tales and while it was fanciful, his tale was anything but fake. Not many else could say they survived the Vice of the Dominator. It was in Morrowind Hil'Jit was betrayed by followers of the Worm Cult. They were the ones to sacrifice him to Molag Bal, but for some reason, that didn't kill him. His soul was gone. He was one of the few people who survived the process of removing his soul in Coldharbor. By all means, Hil'Jit was a dead man walking Nirn. Or undead, maybe? They called him Soul Shriven. The Prophet called him Vestige.

[sosuaveh]

Hil'Jit #0 is scheduled for next week!

It's a prologue that introduces the character more and his story. Chapter 1 will be released shortly after.

As usual my brain is thinking about the next thing. I've got two stories, that both will crosspaths eventually before diverging again. Would you like the story of Scales-of-Wisdom, the scholar of Nordic history next? Or the next part to Sir Glenn's story?