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Chorrol.com _ Jack Cloudy _ Corrupted heart, part 2
Posted by: jack cloudy Sep 22 2007, 11:16 AM
Alright, I just noticed I breached the 200 post mark at the first thread. So here's the new thread.
No update here yet, though. I'll see if I can edit this post later today.
Edit, forgot the link to the last part. Here it is.
http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=3615
Posted by: Lord Revan Sep 22 2007, 06:49 PM
Congrats on making it to a continuation thread, Cloudy. 
Welcome to the club! 
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Sep 23 2007, 09:19 PM
Woo! Jack you've finally filled one! 
Excellent update as well. Nice bouts of humour and suspicion.
Posted by: jack cloudy Sep 24 2007, 09:27 PM
Yup, I filled one and damn, it makes me feel proud. 
Winterhold, tavern
For the most part, the three talked about random subjects. The weather, local customs, old stories, simple things like that. At one point however, Marsh and Aran separated themselves again while Merdrar resumed his observation of the streets below.
,,Alright, you know what we’re looking for. Any idea where to look?” Aran began. Marsh shook his head, while keeping the Dremora in his sight at all times.
,,Not a clue. Skyrim is a large place and I honestly don’t know much about it. We can’t ask him. Apart from risking the whole mission, he doesn’t seem like a local himself either.” He answered. He then flicked his tail.
,,Speaking of which, I don’t know what I’m dealing with. I don’t know what’s beneath that armour, but it gives me the shivers.”
The Dunmer nodded thoughtfully.
,,I suppose we won’t know. Unless…..perhaps I know a way.” He muttered. Marsh chuckled.
,,You’d better be carefull. Before you know it, she’s going to call you a pervert.” He quipped. His voice then turned sour.
,,It’s been three hours. Just what is she doing back there?” He grumbled. Now it was Aran’s turn to shrug.
,,I bet she’s just making herself pretty. Despite appearances, she’s still a woman. Give her a bath, a fancy dress and a few hours. You’ll be amazed.” He said with a small grin.
,,Rajn, a woman? Really, I couldn’t imagine her in a dress even if I was standing on my head.” Marsh whispered, shaking his head.
,,She wore a dress at the palace.” Aran reminded.
,,Oh, well forgive me for not noticing. I was too preoccupied with launching that battlemage wannabe across the hall.” The Argonian complained.
,,Something on your mind?” As if on cue, the Bosmer’s squeeling voice whistled throught he room. Both Dunmer and Argonian turned…and stared. Merdrar made a brave attempt at studying the ceiling, but he also found his eyes drawn downward all the time.
Under all the attention, Rajn felt a blush creep to her face.
,,Well, Arie. Like what you’re seeing?” She asked, performing a quick pirouette on one foot. Aran nodded.
,,Yeah, I like it.” He confessed. Rajn beamed.
,,Sweet, guess that little green dress was useful for something in the end!” She laughed.
,,Hmm, I really do like it. There’s not a single place where you can hide anything stolen.” Aran added.
,,Wah?!” Rajn gasped.
,,Hey, pay me some respect, mister. You have no idea how hard it was to uncurl my hair and all. Three hours of non-stop pain with the hairbrush!” She said quasi-serious. Aran threw his arms up in surrender.
,,Alright! You look great, I mean it. And sorry you did all that for me and I didn’t properly appreciate it.” He called. Rajn gave him a huge grin.
,,Who said I did this for you? Now come on, let’s find this restaurant. I’m starving. Oh, and I still have some places to hide stuff. Never underestimate a woman with unpractical but shining shoes. Drat, these heels are killing me!” When she turned her back on him and moved to the door, Aran took the chance to whisper to Marsh.
,,Well, take a good look this time. That’s how Rajn looks after a visit to a luxurious bathroom. Better burn it into your memory.”
Cyrodiil
Ra’trith glared at the door that dared to defy him.
,,Why won’t you open?” He howled. Or at least, he tried. He was too tired to actually shout anymore. And all of his effort had been for naught. Not even the slightest scratch.
,,I won’t open, unless you give me the correct answer.” The door replied. Ra’trith bared his fangs.
,,I don’t care for your stupid riddle. Just open, please.” He hissed.
,,As you wish.” To his incredible surprise, the door opened without a sound, revealing a balcony and on that balcony, the seated form of Revarim Kendri, reading a book on poetry.
,,Kendri! Now you die!” The assassin snarled. The Redguard looked up slowly, smiled, then returned his attention to the book.
,,You don’t appear to be in the proper condition to fight a rat, nevermind me.” He replied in that infuriating calm tone of his. He closed his book and laid it on a table.
,,So, what did you learn?” He then asked. Ra’trith actually thought about the question for a while. He would never admit it, but he was tired and he knew it.
,,You have sturdy doors.” He admitted.
Kendri clapped his hands.
,,Ha! Humour. That’s good news. But no, while my doors are indeed sturdy, that’s not what I was going on about.” He spoke.
,,Then what is your point?” Ra’trith asked. Kendri smiled and pointed at another door, not the one leading to the shed where the Khajiit had been locked up, but one leading to a small yet cozy-looking house.
,,This, all the doors, cupboards and chests in this area are enchanted. You can’t open them without the password.” He revealed.
,,Which is?” Kendri’s smile grew.
,,The password is ‘please’.”
Ra’trith was stunned.
,,Please? That’s ridiculous!” He shouted, having regained some of his breath.
,,No, no, no. Not ridiculous at all. I am trying to teach you something which you are sorely lacking. Manners.” The Redguard explained, waving a finger before the Khajiit’s nose. Ra’trith folded his arms.
,,Assassins don’t need manners.” He claimed.
,,But you are no longer an assassin. Manners is what you need to learn and so manners are what you shall learn. To open anything, you must say please. And you must say it in a polite, friendly tone. Don’t say please while making it sound like a threat. That just won’t do.”
Ra’trith walked to the edge of the balcony and looked at the snowy landscape before him.
,,I could just leave, let you rot in your manners.” He pointed out. Kendri made a gesture towards a rocky path leading away from the building.
,,Then leave. If you follow that path, you’ll eventually reach the road to Bruma. If you leave however, don’t expect to ever come back. If you leave, you’ll never grow to be more.”
The Redguard got out of his seat and entered the house.
,,Dinner’s ready. Decide for yourself what you want to do, embodiment of darkness.” He said over his shoulder and vanished inside.
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Sep 25 2007, 01:21 AM
So Ra'trith's education continues. I wonder how long it will take him to fully embraced this style of teaching. I can imagine it might take awile....
Awesome update, as usual. Man, sometimes I feel like a broken record, but it's hard to say anything else when it's true!
Posted by: jack cloudy Oct 11 2007, 07:30 PM
Knowing Ra'trith, he'll struggle for a bit. Good thing the teacher is an all-mighty vampiric Shehai-master.
Winterhold
The restaurant was sparsely lit by several strategically placed candles and a total of four torches at each corner of the hall. Plants covered the pillars that supported the roof while the tables were covered by a white sheet. A bard sat on a small stage, plucking at the strings of his lute. There weren’t many guests and beyond Rajn, Aran and Marsh, there were only half a dozen Nordic nobles drinking mead. Merdrar had chosen to remain at the suite. This didn’t bother anyone for Marsh always kept the vital prophecy on him.
,,Zowie! Silver cutlery. That’s just sweet!” Rajn squeeled as they took their seats.
,,Whatever, just don’t take any for souvenirs.” Aran cautioned half-mindedly. Within moments they were assaulted by a grand total of two dozens servants. Marsh flipped open the menu he got handed and decided to give out a few pointers.
,,First of all, payment is applied to the charge for our room. Now, the menu is divided into several sections. It starts with drinks. I suggest you two take something like grape-juice, mead only gets you a hangover……Don’t look at me like that, Rajn! Fine, you can stick with water.”
He sighed.
,,This place is for upper-class only. Don’t even think of eating with your bare hands, that goes for both of you. Now the second section is salads, followed by the main course which in turn is followed by dessert. But since it is upper-class and caters to foreigners like us, there is also the option of assembling a custom menu where you get to choose exactly what to eat.” He finished his explanation without further interruptions.
,,White wine, horse in tomato-sauce, please.” He then ordered after which he looked questioningly at his companions. He had to restrain another sigh at the mischievous grin he got.
,,Ok, get ready to take down the notes! I want a big jug of water, as big as the ones those drunks over there are using. Boil the water in a pot over an open fire. The fire must be made by burning worms or this oily stuff, no wood. Then, I’ll have some horse as well, grilled. No spices or salads or vegetables or fruits or anything else. For the sauce, chop up some pork in little bits, smash said bits with a mortar and pestle, mix with water and two handfuls of salt, then heat till most of the water has evaporated. For dessert, bacon and fried bugs.” Rajn listed, flicking through the pages. She then began a large speech on what kind of bugs went best with bacon and what kind would only make her puke.
,,Got that? And you, Arie?”
,,I’ll settle for a loaf of bread and a glass of salted water.” The Dunmer ordered. It was by far the most Spartan meal ever ordered at this particular establishment. Reasonably, everyone stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Even the bard stopped playing. The only ones who hadn’t noticed a thing were the nobles, who were too busy singing a drunk song anyway. Aran frowned.
,,That is my decision and it’s final. All this decadent food only makes me soft.”
As soon as the servants had ran off to the kitchen and the bard had picked up his lute again, marsh returned to the earlier subject.
,,I think we’re looking at it the wrong way. We shouldn’t try to think where the staff is hidden, but where we would hide it if we were Tharn.” He noted. To this, Aran agreed.
,,If we know how he thinks, we can scrap 90% of the province from our list. If I were him and I had to hide some supreme artefact of power, I would make sure that no matter what happens, the artefact would remain safe from all but the most powerful of beings. For that matter, I wouldn’t trust any place that relies on guards, unless those guards are loyal spirits or in some other way immortal.” He added and frowned as he tried to think of something else.
,,Says you. But does anyone here have an idea who we’re talking about? I don’t know anything about him beyond the fact that he’s a total creeped out jerk and survived the grove. That’s impressive, but not impossible. I could do it, with preparation. But seriously, why don’t we just hop over to his place and whack him with one of those little suns you always throw at things? It would be so much easier.” Rajn complained. She looked longingly at the kitchen and absentmindedly rubbed her stomach.
Marsh folded his handkerchief into a small pyramid before answering.
,,Jagar Tharn is as of this moment, the absolute ruler of Tamriel. He is however, not the ruler by any legal authority. From what I’ve gathered, he somehow removed the Emperor from the throne without killing him, therefore dodging the automatic warning the Elder council would receive upon his death. As a result, no one knows that the man on the throne is just an illusion and he has the full loyalty of every legion on Tamriel, including a garrison of his personal bodyguards the Blades.” He began. At this point, Aran’s meal was brought in, fresh from the bakery two blocks further down the streets.
,,On top of that, Tharn is a Battlemage. But not just any Battlemage. He is the Imperial Battlemage, which makes him the elite of the elite. Quite simply put, we just can’t afford a direct confrontation without shifting the odds into our favour beforehand.” He finished after the short interruption. Rajn was not convinced however.
,,So? I still say that catch him in his bed, he’ll be as helpless as a Khajiit in boiling water. But you act as if he’s some kind of god. I’m telling you, he bleeds like the rest of us.” She pointed out. The Argonian shook his head.
,,We tried that already, before we got the first prophecy about the champion. We contacted the Dark Brotherhood and they sent an assassin to slay Tharn, without knowing the truth. The assassin reached Tharn’s bedroom where he was unceremoniously taken down by the impostor without difficulties. I believe he is now rotting in prison somewhere.” He argued. Rajn froze and paled.
,,An…assassin? He wouldn’t be…a black Khajiit, would he?” She questioned in a trembling whisper.
,,As a matter of fact, we were rather strict on our requirements and the only one to meet them was indeed a black Khajiit.” Marsh confirmed.
,,Wah! I spent like a mo…omfhe…egh..afmhenh...Aran get your hand away from my face!” The Bosmer screamed. Again the bard paused. After glancing their way, the Nord shrugged, tapped his forehead with a finger and resumed playing.
,,Sorry, but it was best not to make anyone know that you’ve spent time behind bars. Marsh, she’s met your assassin and wasn’t happy with it. We left him chained to the wall when we escaped with the champion.” Aran whispered calmly. Marsh nodded in understanding and cleared his throat.
,,I see, my apologies. I had no intention of that to happen. But I feel compelled to finish my story. Now after the assassin, lady Silmane told me of the champion and we put our hopes on him. Alas, he died and when I went down to lady Silmane confirm it, I was attacked by those demons you both saw. While we have since then managed to slay two by catching them by surprise...” Marsh took a deep breath. A thought flashed through his mind.
,,And a third by sacrificing my own life and a precious soul.”
,,There are simply too many to kill. So we are dealing here with a Battlemage who can take on assassins, has been trained by an institute that only selects about nine applicants from all over Tamriel and was elected as the best of these nine. On top of that, he maintains an army of demons that would gladly shred him to pieces if they even dared think that he might be vulnerable. That sounds pretty god-like to me.” He finished.
,,Ok, I got it. But then why are we even trying if he is a god? Shouldn’t we just go to a quiet place and hope it all blows past?” Rajn asked softly. Aran answered for the Argonian.
,,Because he is nearly a god, but not one. Besides, it is the right thing to do and waiting won’t help a thing.”
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Oct 11 2007, 08:34 PM
Dun dun dun!
Hehe, Rajn and her carnivore ways. That was definitely amusing.
Posted by: jack cloudy Oct 23 2007, 07:32 PM
,,Which brings us full-cycle. Where would a battlemage hide his secrets, if he had to pick one place in the whole of Skyrim?” Marsh hissed.
,,Hide things? If ya wanna hide something, ya gotta go to the labyrinth, if ya know what I mean.” A gruff voice growled behind their backs all of a sudden.
,,Labyrinth?” Aran repeated with a frown. He wasn’t too happy at having a drunken Nord intrude on their private conversation.
,,Well yeah. Big place, cold as ice. Shal..shid…tick…someone’s thing, keeps the secret of life there. ya know, that kinda stuff.” The Nord continued in a cheerful boom. Mead dripped on the floor from the mug he recklessly swung around with grand gestures.
,,I see. Thank you for the information. However, I see that our meal has arrived. Perhaps it would be better if we continued our conversation at another time.” Marsh suggested sharply, already knowing though that there wouldn’t be another time. The Nord shrugged and sauntered away. As the mage had said, two steaming plates were brought in.
,,Hmm, smells good!” Rajn said, then grabbed a handful of horse and attempted to shove it down. Marsh sighed, casting his eyes at the ceiling.
,,Oh please, I mentioned the cutlery, didn’t I? Use the cutlery. We’re trying to appear distinguished.” He murmured. Aran shrugged as he cut up his loaf of bread.
,,You acted different when that Nord mentioned the labyrinth. Know anything about it?” He commented. Marsh nodded, after having poked a scaly finger at Rajn’s fork.
,,Use that. Pointy end goes in the horse. Anyway, to answer your question. Yes Aran, I do know something about it. In fact, now that I look at it, it is the perfect place for Jagar Tharn.”
Rajn sniggered.
,,You know what? It’s just creepy to have a drunk stumble up and give you the answer straight out of the blue with some stupid accent. It’s just creepy. And I do know how to use a fork, Marshie.” She then interrupted. Aran cast a glance her way to shut her up. But he realized that while the Bosmer had meant it as a joke, there was some truth to her statement.
,,For a coincidence, it is a bit too much.”
Battlespire
The ghostly orb screamed as it soared through the air. Favel Dres the Dunmer reached towards it with his hand.
,,Shalidor’s Mirror.” He chanted. The air shimmered before him. Then, a purple flash and the orb reversed directions, forcing Ei-Rin to duck. Books flew where the orb smacked into a rack. They were fighting in a library.
,,Not bad. Full two-dimensional reflection.” she hissed with a teethbaring grin. Favel returned the gesture.
,,Not bad yourself. That noisemaker grates the nerves, makes it hard to focus.” He replied.
,,Now, my turn I suppose. Get ready!” Favel brought up his other hand as well and formed a triangle between thumbs and index fingers.
,,Wizard’s Rend!” He chanted and a greenish whip of energye shot from the gap between his fingers.
Ei-Rin had moved at the same moment he had, dodging to the left. From her hands flew a sphere of blinding light which curved as to pass the path of the whip. Favel froze in surprise when his spell was distorted by the sphere which flew straight towards him.
,,Shalidor’s mirror!” The shimmer of the spell came again, but the light simply veered around it, stopping just before hitting his face, where it hovered.
,,You should have moved after casting. One point for this one.” The Argonian gloated.
Favel shook himself out of his stupor and gestured at the orb that was still floating.
,,Dispell.” He spoke. The light remained.
,,Alright, you big scaly lizard. Now I’m really confused. Just what is that thing? It attracted the Wizard’s Rend, pulling it away from you. Beyond that it is apparently a light spell that can arc in midair and my Dispell doesn’t work against it.” The Dunmer said, frowning. Ei-Rin chuckled.
,,Does it surprise the ashskin? I hope it did, for it was a spell only few Argonians know how to cast. That was Heyat, the scorching light. In technical terms, it is different from most spells in that it isn’t necessarily fuelled by the caster. Instead it feeds on any ambient Magicka in the area, including any spells others might use. What it takes, it burns off in the light you see, and heat.” She willingly explained.
,,I’ve got to learn something like that myself.”
Favel cast an annoyed glare at the Altmer that had crept up behind him.
,,Don’t sneak up on me like that, Novis! That’s something Bedroth would do. I’d say your roommate has a bad effect on you. Just why were you peeking on our practice duel anyway?” He complained.
,,Anyone talking to me?” Bedroth called from on top of a bookrack. Favel shook his head at that.
,,Speak of the Ancestor.” He muttered. Novis laughed.
,,Anyway, why shouldn’t I peek? It’s not as if studying is a remote possibility when you two go at it.” He said with a dry tone and waved his hands in an all encompassing gesture.
,,Just who is going to clean up this mess?” He asked.
Ei-Rin poked a finger at the Altmer’s chest.
,,You are. Go on, show us your Telekinetic prowess.” She demanded. Novis sighed.
,,Forget I asked.”
While Novis went to work putting the books back into place, Bedroth jumped down from the rack, landing right next to Favel.
,,So, I was wondering about the mirror? Why is it named as if it’s someone’s property?” He wondered out loud. Favel shrugged.
,,Don’t look at me. I don’t know a thing about it and frankly, I don’t care what’s it called as long as it works. If it was called ‘pink butterfly sneezes while sitting on the grass waving in the morning breeze’ I would still use it, though in that case I would likely search for a similar spell with a shorter and less embarrassing name.”
,,Shalidor, my uncle once told me a bit about him.” Novis said while browsing the titles of a few books he had stacked up.
,,He was a high-ranking Skyrim mage in the first era, similar to a Royal Battlemage. Scholars claim that Shalidor’s Mirror is his invention, a spell he patterned after the reflective properties some Dwemer shield had. He lived in a castle of ice, and was also the architect of some vault commonly called the Labyrinthian.”
Bedroth nodded.
,,So he basically became a copycat? Sounds fine to me? Who’s your uncle?” He then asked.
,,Uncle Thanis. He works for the Empire. Quite the accomplished mage from what I’ve heard, though he never wants to tell me where he studied. Same thing with my dad. Big mage, tends to travel and never show his face for months.” Novis answered and smiled.
,,My family is chockfull of mages. So I’m totally not under any pressure to perform up to family standards. Not at all. Ok, a bit perhaps.” He joked.
,,Now stop standing there, people! You made the mess, so you’d better damn well help clean up before I paralyze you all on the spot! And I won’t give time to flick of a Heyat or a Dispell or a Shehai either.”
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Oct 25 2007, 06:40 AM
Things are building nicely. We got another location to deal with now. Hopefully all goes well.
Posted by: mplantinga Oct 27 2007, 12:21 AM
I've really enjoyed the complexity of this story. Perhaps it helps that I've not played arena all the way through, but I assume that you are taking your usual (and greatly creative) liberties to make the story more interesting. I'll try to keep an eye on this one to see where it goes from here.
Posted by: jack cloudy Oct 28 2007, 08:45 PM
Goes well? Maybe it won't become another disaster like last time, but there will be complications, I assure you. I just hope I'll be able to let Marsh shine for a change.
Glad to hear you caught up, Planty. I admit that I'm taking a lot of liberties here, but not just because I like it that way, but also out of necessity. The original story is basically this.
Jagar Tharn takes over, hides the staff and kills Ria Silmane. Silmane's ghost frees the eternal champion from his prison and then comes in his dreams to tell him where to go. Champion reunites the staff and then finally whacks Jagar good. It is rather empty, not enough to write a big fanfic over.
Some of my changes to this story.
1: The biggie. There is no eternal champion. Instead, I'm using a party here.
2: Ria Silmane has been killed off for real, so no dreams. This means I'll actually have to make them search for the staff pieces and not take a nap.
There are other changes, such as the sideplot of Revarim Kendri and Ra'trith, but those above are the biggies. Anyway, update time.
Winterhold
Merdrar was still standing at the window when they returned.
,,You are rather late. Were you that hungry?” He said without turning around. Marsh cast a glance at the Dremora. He didn’t quite trust the being yet.
,,Perhaps we were. Mind if I asked you a question?” He replied evenly.
,,Depends on what it is.”
The Argonian performed some quick sign language to his companions before speaking.
,,What are you?” He then asked. Merdrar didn’t shift even a single muscle.
,,I see no need to answer that question. What makes you think it is important?” He answered. A subtle edge of danger had seeped into his voice however, which escaped none in the room. Still, Marsh decided to press on.
,,You appear out of nowhere to help us. You do not rest, you do not drink, you do not eat, you wear some form of possessed Ebony as armour which you never remove. And most importantly, you stick with us even though there is no further need. So I ask you again. What are you?”
Merdrar remained silent, nor did he move.
,,So, they have figured out most of it. What do I answer? Killing them all would be easiest, yet I cannot do that. I must avoid violence. Even a simple attempt to subdue them could be lethal. These mortals are so fragile. Yes, what do I tell them? That I have been sent by the very man they wish to destroy?” His mind raced, frantic for an answer that would satisfy his listeners. But as the silence dragged on for too long, the only possible answer he could find was the truth, a vague truth.
,,I am a Dremora, an immortal being from another plane, a plane you do not know. Those in this world who do know about its existence, have varying names for it. The most common one is Oblivion.” He began as he turned around.
,,I am a knight, in the service of my lord who I shall not mention for your sake. Yet I have failed in my duty, forsaken my honour and so I must now bear the mask of shame. Only by slaying a worthy foe in the name of my lord can I reclaim this honour. Jagar Tharn is such a foe. If you three know the means with which to slay him, I pledge my sword to your cause.” He continued. He pulled the Claymore free from its sheath and carved a runic symbol into the wooden floor.
,,By the mark of my lord, you have my word. I shall not forsake it, lest my body be turned to dust and my soul thrown into the abyss. So, now that I have given you my oath, will you accept my presence?”
Marsh felt for the scroll he hid within his robe.
,,Mask of shame, one of the persons of prophecy.” He remembered.
,,Very well, Merdrar. You are now one of us. As such, I believe I can also explain for why we were so late.” He spoke up.
,,Aran, show him the staff piece.”
After the Ebony shard had been placed on a bed, the Argonian picked up his explanation again.
,,This is a part of an artefact known as the Staff of chaos. We have reason to believe that once completed, it might help us in destroying Jagar Tharn. Tharn once possessed it himself and there must be a reason why he found it safer to shatter the staff and hide it across the continent.” He hissed.
,,Whatever is the case, we came across a lead to another piece tonight. Rajn raided the mage guild for a few maps and some personal souvenirs, which is why it took us some time to return. Tomorrow we will set out for a place known as the Labyrinthian of Shalidor. Does that satisfy you?” Merdrar nodded slowly.
,,I am quite satisfied, yes.”
He moved away from the window and walked to the door instead.
,,I suggest you rest as much as you can. Since I don’t need rest as you already observed. I’ll stand watch.”
Northern Cyrodiil
At his shack north of Bruma, Kendri sat reading his poetry under the light of a candle. A cool breeze entered through a partially opened window. Ra’trith had left, much to his disappointment. But he also felt that there was nothing to worry about.
,,He has been predictable all this time, he’ll remain predictable throughout.” The Redguard reasoned. With a smile, he blew out the candle. Yet he did not go to his bed, but instead he remained seated. The book of poetry was placed on the cupboard. Now, he waited.
An owl sang its ominous song. In the light of the moon, Kendri could just make out the time on his clock. One hour past midnight. He rose from his seat without a sound.
,,Any second now.”The window opened wider. Kendri’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he released his Shehai and held it in front of the window.
,,Predictable indeed. I knew you would be back.” He whispered. Ra’trith pulled his head back to remove the glowing blade from his throat.
,,Kendri….how?” He snarled.
,,A matter of simple deduction. Basically, you had become so angry that you were willing to disregard all of my warnings and all of your experience just to get the chance to kill me. However, since that obviously isn’t possible right now, would you…..?” Kendri paused for a moment. A sphere of light ascended to the ceiling, casting away the darkness.
,,take a seat? I made you some tea. It should help you relax. And a relaxed body makes it easier for you to search your soul and recover what is lost.”
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Oct 28 2007, 11:31 PM
Ah Ra'trith. He's still learning. The problem is that he'll be even more dangerous once he learns some control I bet. That is not good at all!
I have a feeling that the group is going to keep a closer eye one Merdar now. Unfamiliar beings usually draw that kind of attention.
Posted by: jack cloudy Nov 20 2007, 10:03 PM
Wow, nearly a month has passed.
Good point though, Mallet. About Merdrar, I mean. I haven't really put it into practice now though. Ah well, let's just continue with the latest chapter. And oh boy, I just can't seem to give Rajn a break, can I? I swear, she always takes the main role in her scenes.
Chapter 8: Maze of ice and forgotten shadows.
Skyrim, Labyrinthian
The wind howled lonely over the snowcovered hills. A few stumps of grass stubbornly clung to life, yet there were no trees or flowers. Dominating the entire area was a humongous and ancient contraption of blackened stone.
,,Nice architecture. It’s dark, it’s cold, it’s round and its rock.” Rajn quipped. Aran twitched his lips into half a smile.
,,Thank you for the lecture. Anything else?” He replied. Behind the two, Merdrar was standing next to Marsh, the latter of the two covered by five robes layered over each other.
,,Was there any point to that observation?” The Dremora asked with his grating voice. Rajn’s ears twitched and she cast an irritated glance at him which made Marsh chuckle.
,,There was a point, trust me. She’s just warming up.” The Argonian hissed and flicked his tail.
,,Ok, once more, with see-through. Yup, the gate is solid steel with the most complicated lock I’ve ever seen. It has a nice and thick cover that can withstand a battering ram I’d say, not to mention that the lock itself drives a collection of progressively larger weels. I can only assume that the biggest ones open and close the door. Good thing too, I don’t see anyone just flinging it open with a hand. I’ll give the picking a shot, but don’t count on instant success. Beyond that, stairs ending in a room with three gates leading to three corridors. There’s more, but I can’t give you anything solid till we get closer. I do see some motion though. Doesn’t seem quite…..fleshy. Creepy.” Rajn held up a finger at each part of her observation. She then gave Merdrar a smug grin.
,,Well, how was that? Good enough to please the almighty?” She asked in a snobbish tone. Merdrar snorted.
,,Just open the door already.” He growled. The Bosmer stuck out her tongue and marched for the entrance to the Labyrinthian that dominated the landscape, the others following in her wake.
,,You’re hard to please, mister ‘I wear lots of armour and never bathe’. Seriously, take it off and jump in a lake sometime soon. You reek! Have mercy on my poor nose!” Rajn complained as she peered into the lock on the gate and twidled with her clasp of bleached bone.
,,I reek? Why, you little twit! You don’t exactly smell so nice either. How many different kinds of perfume did you use?! Twenty? The scent of flowers is vastly overrated!” Merdrar puffed.
,,Oh, scared to admit the truth? You reek, and I don’t. I used five flavours, just so you know. Can’t get enough of a good thing, ya know. And your smell is definitely not good.” The girl stabbed playfully. Merdrar glowered and balled his hands into fists, till Aran placed a hand on his chest.
,,Bear with her, she’s just trying to ease the tension.” He explained. The Dremora’s shoulders sagged slightly as he relaxed.
,,Tension?” He asked. The Dunmer shrugged and turned to watch Rajn work on the lock before answering.
,,Last time we went into one of these, Rajn nearly got eaten, I nearly got killed trying to protect her and we were forced to flee through a shiftgate that landed us in this frozen wasteland. I don’t believe any of us is eager for a repeat.”
For six minutes, the only sounds were the howling of the wind and the clicking of the various lockpicks Rajn inserted into the lock and twisted about. Finally she admitted defeat with a sigh and placed the tools back into the grooves of her clasp before tying it back into her hair. She’d gone back to a curly mess.
,,Nope, I’ve got nothing. Anyone else have any ideas, or should we start digging?” She said frustrated. Aran shook his head.
,,I don’t think we can dig through the ground that easily. We don’t have a shovel and the ground is frozen which makes it as hard as a rock. Look around, do you see a key lying under the snow somewhere? It’s a stretch, but I can’t think of anything better.” He commented. Merdrar roared with laughter, catching everyone else offguard.
,,I thought you were a warrior, but now I see that I’m mistaken! Out of the way, you little elves, I’ll show you how it is done.” He boasted, drew his Claymore and moved up to the door. Rajn folded her arms and tapped on the snow with a foot.
,,That’s not going to work, I tell ya. Might as well give up now and spare us the humiliation.” She predicted.
,,Shut your mouth, shortie. I’ll show you what real power is. Haha, I can’t wait to see your faces after I tear through this little door as if through paper. AAARRRAAAAGGGGHHHH” The Dremore howled as he unleashed a blinding barrage of vicious blows that whipped up snow and sounded a metallic screech each time the Daedric Claymore struck the golden steel. Thirty times he struck and thirty times the lock stubbornly defied him. He stepped back and glared at the obstruction.
,,How?!” He bellowed.
Rajn snickered.
,,Told ya. That lock is a part of a huge mechanism that runs throughout the whole door, which is five meters thick. You can’t strike the hinges either, for they’re on the inside, not the outside. No way you’re ever going to do much good with that piece of chop-iron. You need a key that can trigger the whole mechanism and make the door open on its own. So in short, you lose.” She gloated. Aran cocked an eyebrow.
,,Rajn.” He warned.
,,Oh yeah, he’s got a short temper. Sorry, I forgot.”
Merdrar sheathed his sword with more force than was strictly needed.
,,Damn you, Tharn. Why do I have to put up with these clowns? It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t always plead innocence!” He thought furiously.
,,Ok, so I didn’t manage to bust the door. But I seem to recall that you weren’t all that successful either.” He retorted. Marsh nodded, the first sign he’d given of following the back-and-forth banter going on.
,,If you would mind, please listen to me for a moment instead of squabbling. We know that the Labyrinthian was built by Shalidor. When I told Rajn to, ahem, investigate the mage guild, I had her search specifically for books whose title contained either Shalidor as well as the Labyrinthian, on top of the list of specific titles I requested of her. When at camp, I’ve taken the time to study and I now know the exact location of Shalidor’s former home. If there is a key to this door, that would be the most likely place to search.” He looked from one face to another, awaiting any questions or objections. When there were none, he turned away from the Labyrinthian and headed back out onto the old trail.
,,I’ll lead, you follow.” He hissed.
Posted by: jack cloudy Dec 7 2007, 10:27 PM
Northern Cyrodiil
Ra’trith shivered, an involuntary reaction to the chilly water which he viciously suppressed. The pond they were standing in was a circular bowl surrounded by snow-covered boulders. Its water was barely knee-deep, crystal-clear and smooth as a mirror, only marred by the thin sheet of ice on the surface, just thick enough to catch the falling snowflakes without breaking. The Khajiit looked up at the tips of the trees which showed just above the boulders. He was tired, but he wasn’t going to let the old Redguard notice.
,,Half a day’s march, spent running, and for what? So I can stand in a pond and have my toes freeze off! I just don’t understand him!” He thought angrily and twitched with his tail.
Five metres to his right, Revarim Kendri stood in the same pond, dressed in little more than a loincloth and the crimson amulet around his neck. His eyes were closed and not a single muscle of his body moved. A fit body, Ra’trith noted instinctively, as powerful as that of a man half his age and more than capable of heavy exertation. Unlike the furred assassin, the old man showed no sign of discomfort whatsoever, though this was likely due to some form of spell he was using rather than mere strength of will. Where he stood, there was no paperthin sheet of ice, but clouds of hot steam that made him seem like a ghost amidst a bank of fog.
,,Open your mouth, Kendri! Just why are we standing here like a pair of scary snowmen?” Ra’trith hissed. Revarim Kendri didn’t open his eyes, nor did he shift his balance as he answered the question.
,,If you had been more motivated and more successful in your studies, we would be sitting in my cabin right now, by the open fire, rather than stand here bareskinned amidst the snow.” He spoke and chuckled.
,,But since you refused to sit still, we’ll just have to add a physical factor to your training. To meditate, one needs to clear his mind of all distractions, I’ve told you that often enough. And so…observe.”
The Redguard’s Shehai blazed in his hand as he called it and he put a step to the left. The water barely rippled when he raised his foot, but when he brought it back down, there was a splash as high as his waist. Without missing a beat, Kendri sliced the wave in two with his Shehai as he turned around, creating two more splashes with his feet. Up and back down to the right the ghostly blade went, cutting one splash vertically and the other horizontally. Again he moved, creating yet even more splashes. The splashes he’d already cut created new, smaller offspring as they came down. The Redguard cut them all, never stopping to move. It was like some form of mysterious dance.
The old man stopped and his Shehai vanished, though not after he’d cut all of the remaining splashes without moving his feet.
,,That is how we’ll clear your mind. As you move your feet, you will disturb the water. Strike the disturbance, and you will strike the disturbance in your mind at the same time. It is a technique used by the Ansei, long ago. While it is meant to be done with a sword, I’ll permit you to use your hands instead, since theye are what you are most familiar with.” He spoke softly, forcing the Khajiit to strain his ears in order to hear. Then, the Redguard smiled.
,,And if that doesn’t comfort you, just realize that your toes won’t feel frozen anymore once you’ve got the pattern down.” He whispered.
,,Now get started!”
Ra’trith looked down at his feet and moved one to the left, just as the old man had done. When he set it down, a splash sprung up. Instantly, he sweeped his left hand across it with an open palm, cutting it in two. He turned with the strike, causing more splashes. Both hands sweeped, striking and cleaving the water. He grinned.
,,This is easy.” He thought to himself.
,,Faster!” Kendri bade. The Khajiit snarled.
,,I’ll do this just as fast or slow as I want to!” He replied and stopped. He immediately felt a soft tingling, as if his fur had gotten charged by nearby lighting. He looked up from the water and found to his surprise that the treetops were no longer visible. Instead, there was a shimmering dome that covered the entire pool.
,,You can do it at your own speed, but only once you are able to do this at my speed, will I let you out. Now continue!” Kendri said. Ra’trith estimated that the man’s voice came from just outside the barrier.
,,You lousy old man. I’ll kill you someday.” He thought and let out an angry growl. He turned to back to the task and tried again, faster this time. As he went faster, he soon realized that he simply didn’t have enough hands to cut all the splashes, and his feet would only create even more if he tried to use them to kick.
,,This is supposed to be meditation? I thought it was all about relaxing, not causing your heart to explode in a whirlwind of activity!” He tried to keep up with the rapid frenzy he’d called into action himself, only to stumble and trip.
,,You missed some! Start over!” Kendri ordered mercilessly. Frustrated, Ra’trith stared at the barrier that had trapped him in the pond and began all over again. With some sense of irony though, he noted that the Redguard had been right about one thing. His toes were no longer frozen.
Posted by: minque Dec 11 2007, 12:00 AM
Yeah! 'good job Jackie! Heh...that shehai-thingy reminds me of our greatest RP AMU....when Jonacin used one of those gadgets....
Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 6 2008, 09:01 PM
Well, it is part of the Lore. I'm hoping that whenever we get a TES set in Hammerfell again, there will be a questline somewhere that has your character learn the Shehai. That would be just badass. I'll take a ghostly Claymore of pure willpower over a bound longsword anyday.
And I had something really cool planned here, which included Merdrar pulling off a foetossing charge and all, but I now don't feel like writing it. So I did something else, something shorter and it all makes more sense than the original idea as well.
Winterhold, mage guild
,,Wait!” Books flew as the wizard was thrown across the room.
,,Merdrar, we’re trying to interrogate, not kill him.” Marsh hissed, slightly amused. The Dremora calmly walked over to the wizard, kicking a pile of books out of his path as he went.
,,In my experience, people are most willing to talk if you threaten them with physical violence, even moreso if you demonstrate said violence.” He countered and grabbed the bearded Nord by his collar.
,,Alright, alright! I’ll tell you! Please don’t claim my soul!” The wizard cried. Marsh picked up a book from the floor and sifted through the pages.
,,I’ll leave the interrogation up to you then, Merdrar. Aran, Rajn, found anything yet?” He said. The Dunmer and the Bosmer stuck their heads out from the kitchen.
,,We found his diner, what’s left of it.” Aran said with a suppressed sigh.
,,And his sparkstones!” Rajn added. Marsh flicked his tail.
,,Sparkstones?” He repeated. The girl smiled and held up a pair of black pebbles.
,,Sparkstones! You can put them inside a rabbit, and ten minutes later you’ll have fried rabbit! It’s a cooking implement!”
Marsh closed the book and glanced at the interrogation in progress. Merdrar didn’t seem to be making much progress. He’d managed to reduce the Nord into a quivering lump of flesh, but at the same time he’d also beatne all the coherence out of the man. The Argonian sighed and shook his head.
,,This is not going to work.” He muttered.
,,Alright, change of plans. Merdrar, tie up our bearded friend and put him down in a corner. Rajn, go see if you can find any mind-controlling scrolls. Look for a line of symbols that resembles…” He ripped a page out of the book and scrawled something on it.
,,Something that resembles this. Aran, see if you can borrow Rajn’s latest toys and fix us something to eat. Me, I’m going to pore over the spellbooks. If the current trend continues, we could use something a step up from the Heyat.”
,,So…….why exactly did we come here again?” Rajn asked when her pile of scrolls had grown quite large. She still hadn’t found anything that resembled Marsh’s desired spell though.
,,This would be so much easier if they put down a title in simple Tamrielic at the top.” She thought. As unsuccesfull as she was, so succesfull was Marsh.
,,Wizard’s Rend….usefull under certain conditions….Rajn, that’s quite simple actually. We are looking for the key that will open the door to the labyrinthian. The information of Shalidor’s old home we got from the Winterhold mage guild. It would be rather unusual if they hadn’t undertaken an expedition to that place already. So the key we need to find, they already collected for us. We only need to ask the wizard which of the hundreds of keys is the right one. And when we have that, we can get into the labyrinthian.”
Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 25 2008, 06:20 PM
This story has lost its oomph, if you know what I mean. I think I know what's happening though.
Basically, I've been too ambitious and crammed in too many plotlines. So instead, I'm going to try to clarify and wrap up the least important ones in a hurry. It will also allow me to shave off some of the ten years or so I have to write.
And as a last change, I'm going to add location names whenever I make a switch. It should make things easier to comprehend. So for now, a shorty.
Northern Cyrodiil
The barrier that had trapped the Khajiit vanished. Ra’trith grew a smug grin.
,,So, are you satisfied now, old man?” He snarled. Kendri simply shook his head.
,,You have good execution, but your timing is horrible.” He rated.
,,Something else came up. If it hadn’t, I would have let you continue your practice. But for now, do what you will. I might be gone for less than an hour or a few days.” He added.
Ra’trith jumped out of the half-frozen pool and gathered up his clothing.
,,Something else? Your master perhaps, Tharn?” He asked with genuine interest. The Redguard chuckled and bared his fangs for a moment.
,,Tharn indeed. Except he is not my master, but an ally. Don’t mix up those two terms. They are quite different.” The vampire said.
Cyrodiil, palace.
The Imperial Battlemage looked up as he sensed a disturbance in the ambient Magicka. He sat up in his throne and looked at the various guards and pages that were in the room.
,,I must get some fresh air, continue with your business.” He said before rising and leaving through the door hidden behind the throne. On the other side, he found a tall and horrendously pale Imperial.
,,Aureus.” Jagar Tharn greeted. Aureus made a slight bow and as he did so, the Battlemage felt another disturbance. A shell of silence and darkness had fallen over them.
,,You called?” Aureus replied after he’d ensured no one could eavesdrop.
Jagar Tharn began to move through the corridor. He wanted to be away from the throneroom. For this conversation, an abandoned area of the palace was best, even with the precautions that had already been taken.
,,There have been complications.” He revealed. The Imperial cast a wry grin, revealing a pair of elongated fangs. A vampire.
,,There are always complications in our business.” He chuckled.
,,What kind of complications?” He added, all serious.
Tharn took a left and held open his hand. His staff whizzed through the empty corridor towards him and he caught it.
,,Dagon has apparently learned about the Battlespire.” He said.
,,Battlespire? Someone talked. You know who?” Aureus asked. Jagar’s face was cast in a sickly green hue by the orb that crowned his staff. The sight seemed to add to the power of his words.
,,I don’t, and that is what worries me the most. Dagon has other followers, we already knew that. But the Battlespire is not supposed to be common knowledge. This follower…we must find….and eliminate him.” He whispered.
The vampire nodded.
,,True. I’ll leave that to your Blades. We can always ask for an assault on all known Mehrunes Dagon cultists, perhaps that shall give us a lead. Those types are known for preaching destruction. Their loss won’t be mourned even if we gain nothing from it.” He agreed.
,,But more important right now is the question what we are going to do. Does Dagon plan an invasion?” He continued.
,,He does. He wants me to open a shiftgate in two days.” Tharn said.
The Imperial let out a sharp curse, something which was very unusual for him. Tharn was caught off-guard by it and stumbled over a loose stone on the floor.
,,Two days. He’s not very patient, for a Daedra. Damn. Tharn, we must move soon. Shall we perform an extraction?” Aureus asked once he’d calmed down slightly. The Imperial Battlemage shook his head.
,,No.” He said.
,,I know how you feel, Aureus. I know, for I feel the same. But if we want to keep our cards hidden, we must not force an extraction now. Instead, we must sacrifice the Spire.” He added and his voice croaked.
,,Sacrifice the Spire?” Aureus voice had grown cold. Tharn felt he had to push through now and reveal his reasoning before he would lose a friend and an ally.
,,Yes, we will sacrifice the Spire. We will sacrifice all of my colleagues, those I trained and those who studied with me. But we will not necessarily sacrifice him. Aureus, in two days, a shiftgate will open in the main hall of the Spire. Tonight however, a smaller shiftgate shall open on the path leading to the Battlespire. You will travel that path and play our card.”
They left the dark maze of hidden passages and emerged in the Emperor’s bedroom. The Imperial’s eye was instantly drawn by a wrapped package lying on the bed.
,,The power that emanates from it. Is that?” He began to ask but could not bring himself to finish the sentence.
,,It is. Put it in his room. I trust you in this Aureus. The gate will only be open for an hour. I can’t risk to expose it any longer. Don’t be late.”
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jan 26 2008, 09:42 AM
Plots are formulating... I wonder what'll happen?
Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 14 2008, 10:44 PM
Well, for one. The Battlespire will have guests. 
Oblivion, path to Battlespire.
Instantly, he became aware of the utter lack of air to breath. That was no problem for him though. He was a vampire, and a powerful one at that. He could easily form the air he required to breathe for years, using only the magicka stored in his flesh. There were other factors though that were a greater obstacle than the lack of an atmosphere. The world was cast in utter darkness. No sun hung in the sky, no moons, no stars. Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing but a biting cold, darkness and a pain he wasn’t used to.
Aureus sank to his knees. He thought he was losing his vision, but he couldn’t be sure if there wasn’t anything to see anyway.
“Well, he could have warned me.” The Imperial thought as he dipped into his store of magicka. His form was wrapped in warm flames that pushed back the intense cold. The fire also brought light. What the light revealed didn’t look very inviting.
Jagged rocks jutted out of the ground at every angle. Cracks cut through the world in a chaotic pattern. What wasn’t either a sharp slab of rock or a gaping gash, was a cloud of dust. The only object that told him the world wasn’t truly the dead rock it appeared to be, was the platform he’d arrived on. That platform was composed of a smoothed slab, placed horizontally and kept aloft just above the surface by a ring of purple crystals.
Aureus attempted to draw a deep breath, but he only succeeded at reminding himself where he was.
“Well, time’s wasting and I don’t have much of it. I’d better get moving.” He said, his voice lost in the vacuum.
“There is no clear path to the Battlespire, no convenient road of Cyrodiilic cobblestones, no visual signs. The keep can’t be seen from the platform, and that is assuming there was enough light around to see all the way. There isn’t even a trail of Magicka you can follow. The only way to reach the Battlespire, is by knowing the route.” Jagar Tharn’s words echoed within his head.
The vampire ran to the edge of the platform and stopped.
“Find the two crystals that are cracked. The crack is only visible with a magnifying glass. However, due to the crack they resonate. The levitating force is slightly diminished there. Only one with magically enhanced senses, or a vampire, could detect them. Pass between them, and head straight.” He closed his eyes and focussed on his feet. There, the platform was tipped over to his left, by an immeasurably small amount. He turned till he was facing the right direction, and then jumped.
“There is no solid ground. Do not be mistaken by the slabs of stone you find everywhere. These stones are suspended as well, floating in a thick soup of dust. They are also hollow, so they’re actually lighter than you are, relatively speaking. If you try to walk over the dust or the rocks, you will sink to the core of the world.” He teleported ahead, shifting his location roughly twice a second as he moved through the air.
“Keep a velocity as fast as a good horse, for two minutes.” He counted the seconds as he flew over the rocks and dust.
“If you’ve done everything right, the next step should be easy. Land on the surface of the dust, then turn right eighty degrees and continue moving forward with a downward angle of twenty. You’ll have to move around the rocks, but maintain your heading as much as possible.” He did as his instructions told and dove into the soup. With the dust swirling all around him, visibility was reduced to less than a single metre, even with the light the fire brought. He had to slow down and switch to conventional levitation in order to proceed. As he moved further, he let his thoughts wander.
What was this place? Obviously it had been discovered by pure accident. There was nothing that might draw someone here. He couldn’t even sense any ambient magicka, which was a miracle of its own. Even when within a powerful field of dispel or better yet, when within an area that had its magicka drained, he had always been able to sense some remaining strands. But here, there was nothing.
And then the world itself. It looked as if it had been struck by some great cataclysm long ago, an event which had been powerful enough to shatter it and turn it into a loose collection of rocks and dust. Perhaps if he went deeper, the pressure would make the world more solid but here at the surface, it felt more as if he was flying through a dry ocean. He chuckled. The metaphor was odd as well.
Or what about the stars, or rather, the lack of them? Aureus felt as if he had not only moved from one place to another, but through time as well. The universe around him felt cold, empty, dead.
“What if this is Nirn, as it will be countless eras from my time?” It was an unnerving thought.
He continued moving for minutes and gradually, the feeling that he’d gone the wrong way came over him. He felt disturbed, for if he had become lost, he would not only never find the Battlespire, but he would be stranded here as well. If this was truly the case, his fate would be to wander for perhaps a hundred years before the inhospitable climate would put him at rest. He was just about to stop and turn in the hope of finding the platform again before it was too late, when he felt a familiar sensation, at the edge of his consciousness.
“Magicka. There is still some left.”
He followed the strand with his senses, upward and as he extended his reach, the sensation grew in strength. Finally, he smiled and felt relief wash over him. The pocket of magicka he had discovered was a potent one, which could mean only one thing.
“The Battlespire. It must have drawn in all the ambient magicka over the years. That makes sense. Being an academy in the arts of magicka among other things, it leaves a mayor signature on the surrounding area. Placing a magicka tap in the building and getting rid on any ambient magicka that can pass on this signature makes it harder to find. It seems that I have found it.”
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 15 2008, 08:22 AM
Visitors indeed. I wonder how this meeting will turn out... Solid work as always.
Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 16 2008, 11:10 PM
You know, I've just been reading back a lot to for the description of the Battlespire's entrance. It made me notice that I missed something in my description of the world proper. Namely, the rivers of magma. That's kinda funny, but this is the first time a character went outside Battlespire on-screen so Harms might have been lying for the sake of sticking to a description his pupils could imagine. That and frankly, the new description of a barely kept together shattered planet is a heck of a lot cooler than the cliche hell I had at first.
Cyrodiil
Jagar Tharn watched the still waters of the Shiftgate. Behind him, was the royal bath. Over the past few years, he had cultivated the image of a frail health, the image of a man who took regular baths to help fight his arthritis, one who preferred to take those baths in solitude. It was rather ironic, for the man he portrayed had reached the peak of his strength. Still, he mused as he observed the portal, this image was a priceless advantage in the game he was playing. Whenever the need arose, he would always have an excuse that would separate him from his otherwise everpresent guards. And everpresent spies.
“No doubt there is a spy who hopes to glean some critical information from me even now.” He thought.
“But that spy is only a Breton. He can’t look past the illusion I play before his eyes. He doesn’t even realize there is an illusion, or any other form of magicka, at play here.”
He smirked and reached for a bottle of perfume. While he was here, he might as well add some truth to the deception.
“Besides, no one said there was a limit on how often an Emperor is allowed to bathe.” His eyes turned from the bath back to the Shiftgate. It had been over half an hour now.
“Hurry up, Aureus. You are an old friend, wed to my only sister even. Yet I can’t make an exception, no matter how much I want to. One hour, it is all the time I can give you.”
Gate to Battlespire.
With a silent howl, a wall of purple flames, pierced with a hail of ice and a storm of lightning, erupted in front of him. Aureus swore as he found his path blocked by the obstacle.
“Well, no one said it would be that easy. First they hide this place in the farthest corner of time, space and the countless planes of existence. And even that is not enough. They have to place a defensive mechanism that can hold back every single army ever to exist, combined. No wonder Dagon needs the help of a Royal Battlemage to break in here. He could never do it on his own.” He noted. He dug his hands in his robe and retrieved a clasp. A golden dragon, with eyes made of rubies, one hand holding a sword and the other a staff. A silver gout of flame shot from its open maw and its wings were spread wide, as if it could take flight at any moment.
Knowing that it came from Tharn, Aureus considered it to be oddly out of place. The Tharn he knew was a man with little use for jewelry and other signs of ‘high-standing’. It wasn’t till he’d taken the place of the Emperor that he’d come to openly flaunt expensive clothes and heavy jewelry. Yet, this was not part of an Emperor’s attire.
“The symbol of a Royal Battlemage. Most people see in it an icon of his office but in reality, it is a key. A key to the place where we are born. Hold it out in front of you and speak my name. None of the Battlespire’s defences shall oppose you then.”
The Imperial held the clasp out in front of him as he’d been instructed.
“I am Jagar Tharn, the Royal Battlemage of Nirn! I demand to be given passage, as is my right granted to me by this symbol! Let me pass and enter!” He spoke. Despite the fact that the vacuum robbed all sound from his voice, the wall heard him and split, revealing an ornate gate of bronze, with a gigantic version of the Battlespire’s dragon engraved into it. The doors opened, revealing a surprisingly mundane room of crude stone. Aureus smiled and stepped inside. Behind him, the doors closed and he assumed that the wall had closed as well.
The only furniture he could see were a few sofas, not fit for a noble yet still comfortable enough to serve a commoner. He was clearly in a waiting room of sorts.
“I’m inside. Now I just need to find the right room, drop off the package and make it back to the Shiftgate on time, unseen. Easier said than done.” He muttered as he moved for the simple wooden door on the other side of the room.
Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 17 2008, 10:41 PM
Dun dun dun... What is the package? WHAT IS THE PACKAGE!!!?
Erhm... Sorry.
I sense that the package ain't going to be a good thing.
Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 26 2008, 10:56 PM
I'll reveal the package, at the right moment. For now though, it's back to the story.
PS: There is a tie-in with one of my other stories. It isn't that subtle.
Cyrodiil
Tharn’s eyes opened slowly. For a moment, they gazed at the ceiling unfocussed. Then, they narrowed and shot to the door. He could hear footsteps, heavy footsteps. His face contorted into a hateful snarl. The sound of metal striking wood as a gauntleted hand rapped its surface.
“I do not wish to be disturbed. Come back later.” The Battlemage said. He reached out with his mind and sensed for the lock. He reconfirmed he’d sealed it and sighed in relief.
The knocking continued.
“This is important, Emperor.” A grating voice called from the other side. Jagar froze and glanced at the Shiftgate. It probably was important, but it could never be more important than what he was trying to do right now. Although, he didn’t recognize the voice. He glanced at the clock. Under half an hour remained.
“If it can wait for half an hour, let it wait.” He said authoratively. The doorbolt lowered and he could hear the door click in its lock. Tharn grit his teeth. He had locked the door, but this lock would not hold.
Making up his mind, he walked to the door and turned the key on his side. Instantly, the door was swung open, only to stop just short of hitting the Imperial Battlemage.
“What?” The Legionnaire on the other side gasped. The rim of the door was covered by a greenish glow. While the man had little experience with magic, he knew that this glow was what had kept him from throwing the door open in its entirety.
Tharn’s eyes lowered to the sword in the Legionnaire’s hand. They then flicked back up to his face.
“Sloppy, that was sloppy. That particular model of uniform has been replaced seven years earlier and even if it wasn’t, no guard would be allowed to wear something in such a poor shape.” He spoke with a voice colder than ice.
“On top of that, I don’t allow beards. And even if I’d ignored all previous points, there is still the matter of your voice being one I don’t recognize.”
The assassin growled and attempted to trust. Tharn’s lips formed a smile devoid of any emotion. Without warning, the blade splintered and turned to dust.
“I don’t fear steel, nor the hand that wields it.” His hand suddenly struck out and hit the false Legionnaire in the chest.
“That’s because I’m not the frail old man you think I am. Stasis Crush.”
Green bands of magicka wrapped around every single joint the man possessed, squeezing, crunching, breaking, grinding. He tried to scream but found that he couldn’t, his jaws having been broken into a fine powder. Tharn turned his back on the quivering wreck which was only held up by the murderous bands.
“In your next life, assassin, stick to the traditional tools. Poison slipped into a goblet of wine, a knife hidden under a bed at night. They would be as succesfull as your current attempt, but I might have granted you my admiration, rather than my disdain.” He noted casually. More footsteps reached his ears and he spun around. But it was too late.
Another Legionnaire, or rather a pair of them this time, had entered the chamber. One of the two turned to the assassin while the other glared at the motionless water in the bath. The latter turned to his companion for a moment and nodded.
“Tharn, release him. We will see to him.” He then said in a tone that would not allow any objections. Tharn simply nodded and the green bands vanished. But the damage had already been done. Even if they saw to him, he doubted there was any healer within the province who could regenerate joints from nothing.
The first Legionnaire hoisted the assassin onto his shoulder and walked off. The bearded man had lost consciousness and his head bobbed up and down like a broken doll at each step. Now only Jagar Tharn and the second Legionnaire remained. The Legionnairre looked at the bath again.
“I sense power coming from that water. Would this be the Shiftgate you described to our master?” The Legionnaire asked. As he did so, he closed the door to the bathroom and turned the key.
Tharn closed his eyes. Both on the outside and on the inside, he was perfectly calm.
“Aureus. Forgive me. I cannot maintain a lie to this monster.” He thought as he reopened his eyes.
“It is.” He simply answered.
The Legionnaire’s form wavered. The silver plate turned to a vile black smeared with crimson. The man’s skin, paled from constant service indoors, blackened to the colour of ash. His blue eyes became raging orbs of red. What was an Imperial of Cyrodiil one moment, was a Dremora from beyond Nirn the next.
“You have betrayed us…Tharn.” The Dremora hissed.
Tharn looked indignant.
“There is something I must retrieve from Battlespire.” He answered calmly.
“You should have asked us, we would have considered retrieving this object for you.” The Dremora stated.
“Garvis, I will be blunt with you. I do not trust those Scamps you keep as servants. They are noisy, clumsy and prone to mischief. If they broke the trinket I desire, I would be angered.” Tharn replied.
Garvis nodded. He understood what the Battlemage meant.
“Your view of them is quite accurate. However, that does not change the fact you opened a Shiftgate before the right moment, without informing us first.” He motioned at the silent pool.
“The servant you sent, he is less important than our goals. Close this Shiftgate. I will personally retrieve this trinket for you when I travel to Battlespire tomorrow.”
Tharn didn’t even blink.
“Yes, he is less important.” He said and with a sweep of his hand, waves returned to the magical water which had now become normal water.
“Has the Shiftgate been closed?” Garvis asked.
“You may. Find out for yourself.”
The Dremora dipped his hand in the water and pulled it back.
“The Shiftgate is no more. Very well, Tharn. What was this trinket you desire?” He grunted.
“The trinket is a golden clasp, shaped like a Dragon. It holds a staff in one claw and a sword in the other. It breathes a flame of silver. The clasp is a symbol of my office, as well as a key. If you wish to enter the Battlespire’s deepest regions, you require this object and you require me to operate it.” Tharn answered.
“Aureus, I am truly sorry. You will have to find your own way out now.”
Posted by: minque Mar 2 2008, 02:42 PM
Uhhh.... I've read quite a few stories this afternoon, and it seems as almost all of them are written by you Jackie! Well the only thing I can say is that I'm just so impressed! So impressed 
Posted by: RavenMind May 25 2008, 12:14 AM
Ooh, I'm eager for more!!
Posted by: jack cloudy Aug 17 2008, 10:48 PM
I'm still trying to get back up to speed, so another somewhat short update.
Corrupted heart.
Chapter 9: Invasion from beyond the edge of the world.
Battlespire
Aureus thought long and hard, aware of the time that ticked by relentlessly. He had to hurry, but the fortress he was going to infiltrate posed an unique challenge. He had Tharn’s clasp, which kept him safe from the countless traps that lurked below each floorpanel, behind each wall and above each ceiling. But that same Clasp also acted as a beacon. Every person present in the complex, could sense him. At first, they might simply think he was Jagar Tharn, but that wouldn’t last forever.
“Anyone else, and I could have crafted an illusion that would fool their eyes and their mind. But not the Royal Battlemages. Tharn thaught me the art of disguise, and he learned it from them. They know how to create illusions, and how to break them down. I can’t hide, and I probably can’t outrun them either. Perhaps I could outfight them, one on one. But fighting isn’t part of my mission. That only leaves one solution.”
He reached out into the almost solid mass of Magicka that was everywhere. He couldn’t hide, but he wouldn’t need to. The Clasp, and him, caused a significant and unique displacement that could be used to track him. But what if that displacement wasn’t unique? What if there were say, five hundred identical displacements? All moving randomly throughout the Battlespire? It would be a complicated measure to take, one he wouldn’t be able to do normally. But the Battlespire had caught the Magicka of an entire world within its walls. He could use that magicka to power the spell he couldn’t perform with his own internal reserves.
He smiled as his soul picked up the silent roar as the layers of magicka flowed into each other and rearranged themselves into the pattern he needed.
“Go on, I dare you. Try to find me now. One tree within a deep forest.” He whispered and stepped out into the hall. Just to be sure, he moved in an erratic pattern himself. He hoped that the decoys would be so many, that the Battlemages wouldn’t be able to notice that one of the signatures moved with a purpose. He hoped, but hope alone still left a chance for failure. So he weaved, circled and even turned back a few times. He hopped along on one foot, then crawled like a snake. But at all times, his seemingly random choice of direction would steer him to the deepest shadows, where Aureus would be hidden from nonmagical eyes.
This way, he managed to cross the hall and ascend the stairs. Once at the top though, he had to leap behind a pillar as an Orc burst through the door. Aureus only managed to catch a glimpse of the Battlemage before he reached his hiding place, but that was enough. The green-skinned giant was wearing a simple black robe, one without decorations and surprisingly, not enchanted. It was the robe of a Royal Battlemage, not the robe of a student.
“Please, walk passed. Don’t notice me.” Aureus pleaded in silence. Had the Orc caught a glimpse of him as he burst through the door?
“What’s going on here! Tharn, you know I don’t enjoy jokes! I have to prepare for my class tomorrow! It will be their first time in the armoury, and their first time with weapons in their hands! You know how important it is I make sure it is absolutely safe! So stop playing around!” The Orc growled. That gave the Imperial behind the pillar an idea.
“Please forgive me, friend.” He replied while magically altering the sound of his voice into a perfect simulation of Jagar Tharn’s.
“Since I had nothing important on hand for tonight, I thought I’d give the students a test. See if they could find the real me among all the false ones.” He continued and added a theatrical sigh at the end. A smirk grew on his face. Aureus enjoyed his game.
“I suppose I should have informed you first. Perhaps I should just leave?”
He could hear the Orc’s footsteps cease.
“Hrrhmmph. A trial. That’s alright, I suppose. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll just inform our colleagues and then I’ll let loose the little puppies we’re training. Maybe it will give them some teeth!” He grunted and laughed loudly.
“Although, not even I can see the difference between the real signature and the fakes! You’ve always been ruthless, Tharn! I like that! Well then, enjoy the hunt, friend.” With those words, the Royal Battlemage turned on his heels and left the way he came. Aureus waited two precious minutes before slipping through the door.
“All too easy.”
With the professional search for him halted, he could abandon his random wobbling and dash straight to his target. Amused, he realized that the Battlemages would notice the perfectly straight line he was now travelling in. But they would merely assume that it was all part of the trial, that their students had to point out the signature going straight and hunt it down.
“A Battlemage might have caught me. A student with less than a year of training? Not a chance.”
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