Chapter 1 - Toppled and Soggy
Waking up to find your life upside-down, and I mean literally upside-down, ain’t ever fun. Doesn’t make it any better when your lungs are threatening to take in the ocean if you don’t find a source of breathing air soon. Air’s typically important in my day to day, so finding an air pocket wouldn’t have been the worst thing right about now.
My damn air sacks were burning by the time I spotted a way up. I’ve got to say that it was fucking disappointing to see that my way forward wasn’t a gilded pathway into a valley of busty women. It was just more fucking water. I had to go back under. So long as I kept pushing forward, I’d find a way to survive. Well, so long as we didn’t hit a rock in the middle of nowhere.
I found Harkag’s lute. That was far from a good sign. The scrawny bugger never went anywhere without that thing at arm’s reach. He seemed to constantly be playing a song called something like … beauty barrier. Something along those lines. It got annoying at times, I’d admit, but I was just hoping he was going to be able to play it again. I took it with me. Maybe I’d be able to reunite them.
Heh. Brother Narodius. Always had his nose in a book. I was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing. Didn’t bother to check either; I didn’t like him. He wasn’t even a permanent member of my crew - just a passenger.
Someone got out. Good. Well, either someone stacked loose boards and boxes or these things just fell in an incredibly unlikely pile. Either way, good for me. I could use it to keep moving.
Went back underwater. I could barely see under here and it was far too cold to stay in it for long. I had to go under, feel around, and pop back out to let my body rest for a moment. Eventually I found an opening. Never been that happy to find a hole. … Eheh. That’s not true.
I could see land in the distance, and the bottom of my ship was flat enough to climb on top of without wasting too much energy. Plus, I could use the sun to warm myself for a bit. You know, like an argonian.
I spotted something on the smashed into the aft. Looked like someone wedged her head into crack on the bilge. I felt bad until I recognized the robes: Thalmor. It’s always fucking Thalmor. I found a note on her body. Faelrindra was this woman’s name, apparently. The rest of the note was too smudged to read; no way to tell why she was here. With my crew dead and my ship destroyed, there was nothing else for me to do than find out who the hell this woman was and figure out what she was doing here.
My name is Norman Greyjoy, and I’m rightly fucked.