Five Year War - Wild Hunt of Vindisi

The village Vindisi - 3E398

Zaphala was always been a quite Khajiit, living among the majority of bosmer here. The living was quite easy, no troubles, no fights. A small place in a valley, bordered by many oaks, starring up to them everyday. It was seldom that anyone trumbles in here and disturb the given peace. The Khajiit liked it that way and was the reason why he stayd here. The freedom and the joy under the shadow of the great trees.

Originally he was just another poor adventurer, living the journey itself but loving the great unmelting forest of Valenwood the first he arrived there. Of course he did know the Tenmar forest in his home country, but this here is the total opposite. No fleshy and wild jungle who sometimes tries to eat you alive. No, here you are one with nature. And altough he was a stranger and foreign to the forest needs, Y'ffre slowly seemed to connected him, he could felt it. And with his acception, it came along with the acceptance of the locals. He joined, became one of them, even wearing the green. Now, this was his new home, for several years now.

Then, the war came. Without a name and despite that to brutal to gather one, to deserve one. The front line came nearer and nearer. Now, he could feel what he never believed to feel ever as a non-bosmer: The cries of burned woodflesh, destroyed peace. It made him angry, like everyone here and the peace, yet there, was different since then. Like the forest was waiting. But for what? The tension seemed to grow every night, reflecting anyones own heartbeat of fear and anger. The trees were whispering as they consider themselves as hists.

Zaphala knew the legends of Y'ffres Call. The heart of the green. Tales about the wilder king. Even as he could actually here the echoes of these messages, he couldn't deciffer them, don't knowing their intention. But what he did see, was the changing of the bosmer. Being more 'wild' in their being with time going on. As they would always accept what was about to come. Maybe even wished and not persist to escape the ultimative sacrifice in need of the forest. The other non-bosmeri saw it the same way, when without the connection Zaphala had. Their eyes were full of tears, knowing what will be and what will be left of this town. An end of an era.

But he had no sorrow, he was ready like the others. He would fight for Valenwood as well, so much he could give. And the prophecy slowly turned to reality. Nights passed by and voices arrived through the jungle, pouring through the oaks net of symbosis. Tiny signs of an upcoming troop of soldiers. Ready to take what's ours. Ready to burn. And they will welcome them!

Branches cracked, fires of torches were doused. But to late. Everyone knew that they were here. Then the horror show broke loose. Their faces were changing. First just amorph, then pure grimaces of evil death. Their bodies became snake and bears or something between, ever changing within seconds. Zaphala heard about the wild hunt and believed he could bear this sight, but he knew that would never be ready for this horror cabinet. A circus of monsters, floating like unnatural ghosts through the woods. No longer mer, no longer sentient and only controlled by pure hunger. Some khajiit really thought it would be a good idea to fought them with their swords and claws, brave Cathays, but they fell faster then one can blink his eyes.

Although the swords cutting through their former bodies, they left without a hint of blood on the other side, just after their claws and teeths devour them with their skin whole as they would always possess a normal body. Zaphala turned away from the play, no longer brave enough and capable to fight along the hunt. Hearing the scream of eaten fellow, even if no longer family, was enough. He slowly went to his home, wanting to wait until they all left this town. Then he had to search a new one. Now, finally, sorrow found him. And regret. Was this the only possibility for his new family to defend their home? Worth the sacrifice? And yet he knew that, if he could, had changed along with them, becoming pure hunger. But the Khajiit was after all just this: A Khajiit, a foreigner. Not enough bosmer to sacrifice his own being to Y'ffre. Why Azurah? Why do you did this to my kind? And again, he knew that these broadside was unlawful to her. Dumb Khajiit...

Then, something unexpacted and even more fearsome happend. A sound like a cacophony, like earthquake aroused him. Trumbling out of his hood, Zaphala observed how the soldiers cut ropes above the valley, leading to an earthrush of heavy stones down the only entrance to the village. Despite a few hunt member really crushed among them, all of the left hunger people were left inside the valley, seeking already for new food. Some fell over the other, biting and clawing each other, devouring each other... and he was trapped with them.

Oh Y'ffre, is this really the sacrifice you demand from me? Tears rolled down his eyes, before a nearby growl got his attention a last time.