Oblivion Mod:Stirk/A Taste of Victory

25 Rain's Hand, 3E 398
Near Cormeir Spring, Valenwood

odies littered what, in other circumstances, might have been called a battlefield, but in truth would be ill described as a 'field' of any sort. As was often the case in Valenwood, combat took place beneath a canopy of high trees. Whatever opinion the other races shared about the Khajiit, Bosren knew they were incorrect. Beasts though they looked, the furry devils fought as well as anyone else, using their different breeds as others used different types of military units. Add to that the advantage of having soldiers whose roles were determined at birth...

But it was not the enemy that chiefly concerned Bosren today'at least, not in the sense that he'd be fighting for his life. No, the morning had gone very well in a war that had seen defeat after defeat for the Wood Elves. The enemy had been routed, their smaller force destroyed to the individual. It would be days before the main Khajiiti force realized that the frontrunners had been wiped out. Days before Bosren would see more bloodshed. It was a welcome break, with the stress of combat starting to wear on his soldiers.

What was really bothering Bosren was the outcome of victory. For weeks, his troops had been pushing themselves, trying to eke out every advantage they could in order to win. Fetching venom from the fangs of the tree-dwelling snakes was no one's idea of easy duty. Yet the poison-tipped arrows had turned the tide today. The fire blackened bone arrows jutted from the furry bodies of the enemy as if they were colorful porcupines. Here and there, a white shaft -- the arrows that hadn't been treated with the venom -- could be seen, but the overwhelming majority were black, the poisoned ones.

And so the problem facing Bosren was obvious: The dead were mostly Khajiit, and those were mostly filled with deadly venom. Yet they had to be eaten to satisfy the Meat Mandate. After facing defeat so many times, his men had grown hungry. Ironic that they might face defeat greater still in victory, gorging themselves on a toxic meal. In the surrounding forest were many herbs that might be used to negate the poison, but those were unusable to his troops. An hour ago, Bosren sent a scout into nearby Cormeir Spring to see if there was a spell caster whose services he might employ. Unfortunately, the only caster with the ability was an initiate of the cult of Arkay, and so was bound to object to cannibalism. Unless...

"I have 14 Mer, stricken by foul toxins in the course of combat. If left untreated, they will surely die." Seeing the Imperial begin to frown, Bosren went on quickly, "Oh, to be sure I do not wish to suffer losses I do not have to, and I am well aware of the bounty of the forest, but such a clear option is one not open to my people."

"Because of this, the Mer will die'" The Imperial asked with some bewilderment.

"That is nothing but the truth. And when our loyal troops finally find Oblivion we are bound by our law to eat their bodies. I know you probably regard the practice with horror or contempt, but you can help us prevent its necessity."

"So prevent it I shall! Lead me to these Mer, and I will cleanse them."

Bosren shook his head in negation, knowing that if the cultist saw the battlefield, he would at once grasp Bosren's true intention and no help would be forthcoming. "I'm sorry, but we understand this problem to be an ongoing one; that is, the Khajiit will continue to use poisons against us, and so we will always be in need of some capacity for curing. So I would prefer to learn the spell..."