Gwenneth Gut-Ripper's History part 2

Fire and Death

Gwenneth and her father Manheim had just been on an uneventful hunting trip, and were making their way back to home through the winter snow. "Wait"; her father said, as he came to a stop and kneeled while peering ahead to get a better view under the branches of the trees they were surrounded by.


Suddenly from inbetween the trees ahead of them, Gwenneth's youngest brother Quynthen ran up to them. Quynthen was only 8 years old at the time, so it was unusual for him to be this far from the house on his own, something was very wrong...
"Daddy, daddy, imps! They've set the house on fire!""; he yelled, as he struggled towards Gwenneth and her father. "Where are the others?!"; Gwenneths father replied, as he already grabbed the axe from his side. "Still in the house! They couldn't fit through the window!"; was Quynthens daunting reply.


Manheim yelled; "Stay with Quynthen!", as he ran off towards the house. Gwenneth grabbed Quynthen by the hand, pulling him forward as she tried and failed to keep up with her dad's ferocious pace, soon losing sight of him. Then she saw the red gloom up ahead, lighting the lower half of a large column of smoke she hadn't noticed before, as it was already getting dark.


As she reached the house, she saw her father making quick work of the imps still surrounding the house.
The house was ablaze, yet she watched her father open the front door, and enter while flames whipped out the door opening. As soon as Manheim had entered, all she could see inside was fire. All Gwenneth could do was fall to her knees, cling to Quynthen and watch the tragedy unfold before her eyes...

After what seemed an eternity, she saw a dark shape appear in the door opening. Her father staggered out of the house, his dead sons jammed under his arms, and dragging along the corpse of his daughter with his hand. Manheim was engulfed in flames, and Gwenneth watched in horror as he dropped the bodies of her brothers and sister in the snow, stumbled forward and gazed into Gwenneths eyes, while the flames licked his face. Then he slightly raised his arms and tumbled over face down in the snow. Gwenneth quickly ran up and franticly started scooping snow onto her still burning father untill the flames extinguished.


Manheim was a strong man, for he lived for three more days before finally drowning in the fluids building up in his lungs. And for those three days, Gwenneth never let go of his burnt, skinless hands.


Manheim Wood-Cutter



Riverwood

After Manheim's, Storn's, Larthjar's and Hulgarth's sea burial, Gwenneth and Quynthen lived with their Grandfather, Njord Fridleif.
Njord lived in a small wood cabin in Riverwood, which he shared with another elderly Nord called Mendel.
The four of them in the small cabin caused some pretty cramped conditions, So both Gwenneth and Quynthen spent a lot of time outside.
Njord was a calm, aging man, and he would often opt for diplomacy instead of fighting. During the long winter evenings he could tell the most fantastic tales, of dragons and falmers, much to the dismay of Mendel, who seemed to have heard those stories a thousand times before.

At the age of 16, Gwenneth got her first hireling job, escorting an appearantly important cartload of whatever it was carrying to Whiterun. Though the trip was uneventful, she got paid well, and was proud to be able contribute more to their cramped household, other then bringing in the fruits of her hunting trips.

Njord Fridleif

Only a year later, Njord died in his sleep from old age. Gwenneth and Quynthen continued to live with Mendel, but things weren't going very smooth. After Njords death, Mendel took a lot more interest in Gwenneth, and one night after Mendel got home drunk from the local tavern, he forcefully grabbed Gwenneth and tried to pull her into his bed.

Gwenneth grabbed a candleholder and forcefully brought it down on Mendels head. Mendel fell to the ground unconscious, blood gushing from a large open wound on his head. Gwenneth looked at the scene for a moment, then shoved him under the bed. She quickly put on her hide armor, packed some food in a cloth, scraped together all the gold coins she could find and grabbed her axe.
Then she woke up Quynthen; "Quynthen...Quynthen! Get up, we have to go, NOW!" She quickly dressed him for the cold, then pulled him outside on the dark and scarcely lit street, heading South.

After walking most of the night, at times carrying her brother in her arms, she was well South of Riverwood. As the morning sun rose, she could see a massive silhouette appear at the Southern sky...; Jerall Mountains.
That's where she would go, thats where she would cross the border and leave behind all these years of fire and death.

For a moment she felt for her mothers necklace around her neck, firmed her grab of Quynthens hand, and then continued South through the thickening snow...