Just read through this and I really must say that, so far, this is very good indeed. It's dark, violent and wonderfully nasty, and you've already managed to populate it with some very intriguing characters so far with Minx, Thanryn, Kirth and this mysterious ghostly tutor, a character who is, I suspect, perhaps not simply a villain as one might initially suspect. Not only this, but the overall 'Morrowind' feel needed for a story set in Vvardenfel has been captured perfectly so far. It is most, most excellent indeed, and I'm looking forwards to seeing more.

Chapter Three: The Telvanni Way

With each breath, I felt the burn of the icy air against my throat and in my lungs. I had been abandoned here by whatever entity brought me here. Either it had lost interest or it had what it wanted. Despite the discomfort of breathing, I eventually drifted to sleep.

It was right then that I stirred into the world of consciousness. It wasn’t the dark room, though. It was the bed that I had fallen asleep in, the one in Lord Kirth’s tower. Had it all been just a dream? Was it even possible for dreams to be so vivid—so real?

I sat up in the bed to see the Specter patiently staring at the Grimoire. “My pupil?” he asked as his faceless gaze moved to me. “Are you prepared to learn more?” He knew the answer and so did I. Ever since I had first touched the Grimoire, I didn’t want to stop learning.

“Of course, Seryn,” I said eagerly. In the corner, Thanryn was watching as he repeatedly struck his sword with his whetstone. His eyes told that something was bothering him, but I was afraid to ask. He distrusted the Specter.

When Seryn opened the book, it was to the same page that Mindfire had been on before. In place of the violet flame was something different. In the place of the violet flame hovered an ice sculpture of a hand. The palm was open and the fingers slightly curled as if it were reaching for something.

Knowing what he would say, I instinctively touched the hand. The icy touch against my chest stole my breath. My attempt to take a breath was denied by my lungs as they constricted tightly. I finally managed to take another breath after what felt like an eternity. “W-what was that?” I coughed.

“Frostbite. Your hands become colder than any winter you’ve experienced and you touch them to your adversary,” he explained. “Then you watch as their muscles tighten and they struggle to move.” He showed no remorse for the pain that it caused me. Why did I expect him to?

The words written around the illustration were: “Tangere ec Heims”. I closed my eyes and imagined what it was like before. The anger when I felt the punishing blow of a fist to my kidneys. Under my breath, I growled the words and touched the Specter’s gloved hand.

Before Seryn could react, the world around me changed. The beds, nightstands and chairs changed into bookcases lining the walls and Lord Kirth sitting at his exquisitely detailed, ebony desk. The strange, orange-skinned humanoid was holding up what appeared to be a rather heavy tome for Sarthon. Beads of sweat were forming on the humanoid’s brow as it struggled to hold the tome with its wiry arms.

“You’re to go to Ansurbas,” he ordered without his eyes moving from the tome. “It is there that you are to retrieve the Skull of Nelos Lethan.”

I reflexively took a step back. The thought of retrieving someone’s skull made me think I might have to take a life and I didn’t want to—not after what happened with the Altmer girl. “Who is this Nelos?”

“If I deemed it important to the success of your task, I would tell you. Alert your comrades, you have an hour’s time before I send you.” The tone of his voice was sharp. And as I turned around, I heard a loud thud.

“Apprentice, one final thing.”

“Yes, Master?” I asked as I turned around. The small humanoid had dropped the large tome and I could see the fear in his eyes. Those beady, black eyes showed that he knew something horrible was coming.

“Kill this scamp,” he ordered. “He has failed me.”

Just as I opened my mouth to protest, he interrupted, “Death will befall the Scamp or it will befall Thanryn.” The creature looked towards me and whimpered. My heart pounded against my chest with each step as I closed the gap between us. He knew his fate was coming.

When I got within range to freeze the life out of him, he pounced on me and began clawing at my chest. My robes ripped open from his sharp claws and I felt the rip of my flesh. “I’ll kill you,” I screamed in its face. “Tangere ec Heims!” My hand had a bright blue glow for a moment as I grabbed the Scamp’s throat.

The creature grabbed at its own throat and then just fell off of me. His eyes lost their vibrancy and instead took on a more glassy appearance. One that showed the life behind the eyes was gone. “I see you’re adapting to the Telvanni way of life well.”

“What do you mean?” I replied as I stood up. My eyes never moved from the corpse. I was ready to unleash a flurry of spells if it moved, but it didn’t. This time, I didn’t feel the same guilt. It just felt—normal. It felt like something I was supposed to do. In a twisted sort of way, it felt right.

“You chose to take the Scamp’s life as opposed to me taking Thanryn’s. You are beginning to understand that it is your right to choose who lives and who dies.” It took me a moment to understand what he was saying, but he was right. It had been less than a week since I earned the title of Telvanni, but I was already growing to be a fine member of the House. The thought should’ve been repulsing to be like Kirth, but it was comforting. It was good to know that I held such power.

I walked out without another word. My mind was in multiple places at once. Most importantly was Ansurbas, but also how quickly I had come to embrace this new life. Was this who I was becoming? And more importantly, was it a bad thing to embrace the Telvanni lifestyle so quickly?

Eventually, I found my way to my quarters again. Kneeling in the corner was Thanryn, holding the rosary in his fingers and whispering prayers to Vivec. Seryn looked up at me, “You extinguished a life?” In the corner of my eye, I noticed the Buoyant Armiger’s head dart up to me.

“It was the Scamp or Thanryn. I made the right choice.”

The Dunmer said nothing, but his eyes didn’t move from me. “I’m leaving for Ansurbas within an hour’s time,” I continued. “Lord Kirth seeks something and I am being sent to retrieve it.” Seryn and I turned around to watch Thanryn.

We watched as he placed the helmet onto his head. He looked around the room through the dark-glass goggles and nodded. Thanryn looked like an adventurer—no, a hero. The sword and dagger at his side and the chitin armor truly made him look like the archetypal hero that every Dunmeri child dreams of becoming.

Time seemed to pass slowly after that. I gently set the Grimoire into my knapsack and the three of us just sat there. We simply sat in silence for several minutes until I asked a question that randomly appeared in my mind. “Do you have any family, Thanryn?”

I didn’t need to see his face to tell there was a pained look. His head fell to the ground and he glumly replied, “A son.” His voice was wrought with remorse and that only amplified my curiosity. Had something happened to him?

“What’s his name? And is he okay?”

“Zalphon is his name and yes. He’s under the watchful eye of my best friend. They live out in Balmora.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

Seryn set a ghostly hand on my shoulder, but Thanryn just shook his head. “It is fine, Tamarion. She’s just curious.” The Specter lifted his hand and stared over towards Broodikus.

“I had to make sacrifices,” Thanryn muttered. “I was a Buoyant Armiger—I couldn’t betray my oaths, no matter how much I wanted to. When I was exiled, he had lived his whole life without knowing me—it wouldn’t have been right to just walk in.” His voice was pained, so I simply remained silent after that. We all remained silent.

Eventually the world seemed to change around us. Instead of fungal walls and beds, we were surrounded by a thin fog. About ten feet in front of us were stone steps covered with moss that descended to a large stone door. “Where are we?” the Buoyant Armiger asked.

I couldn’t respond; I was fascinated by this place. The door seemed to have no way to open, just a single handprint and beneath it: “Loyalty is truest when paid for in blood.” I took a deep breath and went to place my hand in, but it was pulled away.

“No,” Thanryn said as he placed his hand in the hand-print. I expected something to happen to his hand. A spell to be triggered or a knife to pop out, but nothing happened. The only thing that occurred was the door sliding open to reveal a hallway descending further into the ground.

No words were spoken as we walked in. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The windy hallway eventually led us into a large room, rectangular room. The walls were not stone as the others were; they were a beautiful reddish-black metal. Along the walls were alcoves.

“What is this place?” I asked in awe as I looked around. I looked through the alcoves and they all seemed to have the same thing. In the alcoves were inanimate skeletons dressed in robes. The robes fell into three colors: White, Red and Black. Most of them wore white robes stained with blood, two wore red robes and one wore a black robe. I could only assume the black-robed one was Nelos.

When I got no response, I turned around to see Thanryn. He was standing, completely statuesque. He looked like he had been afflicted with Scrib Poison, but there were no scribs here. We were the only ones here.

Suddenly his body jerked violently and he mumbled, “What—sorry?”

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You seemed to be—not entirely with us.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I could tell he wasn’t fine, but I knew that pushing the issue would only irritate him. That wasn’t worth it. I inhaled deeply and looked around the room for anything else of note. The only thing of true note was a platform in the center of the room. It was table-shaped, but it was seamless.

On the platform was a single ruby, but it was the size of my fist and glistened even though this place was quite dim. “Do not touch it,” Thanryn warned. “It’s likely cursed.” I looked at it closer to see the lack of impurities made it look almost like a chunk of red glass.

“What do you mean?”

“Touch it and this may very well be our final resting place.” There was a pained sound in his voice again. I wanted to ask, but it didn’t feel right. I knew he’d snap, because he was already on edge.

Seryn pointed to opening in the alcove opposite of the one we came in through. It led to another hallway, but this one was made of the same metal as this room. Before I started my trek towards the next opening, I grabbed the skull of the black-robed one. “What are you doing?” Thanryn asked.

“Taking something for Lord Kirth—I think this is what he sent me for, but I want to find whatever else I can from here.”

“You can’t defile the dead like that—especially for him,” the Buoyant Armiger shouted at me. “Put the skull down.”

Disobediently, I tucked it into my knapsack. He said through gritted teeth, “Put. It. Down.” Anger was radiating off of him, but he would have to accept it. I was not going to betray Lord Kirth and risk losing the privilege to study from him.

“Don’t make me kill you,” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t let you defile the dead. I may have wished them ill in life, but everyone deserves to have peace in death.”

Seryn began to speak, but I interrupted. “Don’t threaten me, Thanryn—or I will kill you. And I am not you, my threats are not empty.” His sense of authority over me was going to be broken. He would either learn that I was his equal or this would be his resting place.

“I saved your life, Minx—put the skull down.”

“I’ll end yours—back off.”

He pulled off his helmet and let his hair fall down to his shoulders. I could see in his eyes that he was angry, but in a lesser way—worried. “I can’t let you,” Thanryn stated. “If you choose to walk down this path, then you will walk it alone.”

“Then leave,” I hissed. “I do not need someone who is too foolish to recognize that I am doing what’s best.”

“What’s best? You stand in a Shrine of Molag Bal, defiling bodies of his priests so that you can please Kirth. If you think this is what’s best, then you are sorely mistaken.”

“You don’t get it, do you? I am Telvanni. He is helping me grow more powerful than I ever would’ve been as a street-urchin.”

“I only met you a few days ago,” he sighed. “I saw you cry when you performed a mercy killing. Now you threaten to kill me where I stand, because I disagree with you. Is this the cost of power?” There were tears welling in his eyes. But why did he care? We had just met a few days ago. Why did it matter who I was?

“Why does it matter what choices I make?”

“Because,” he paused. “You matter because the world doesn’t need more Telvanni—it needs more people who care about one-another.” I watched a tear run down his cheek as he looked down. He moved his hands away from the hilts of the blades.

“Then the world will have to find someone else.” My voice was cold, but I didn’t want to give up my right to power. I wasn’t going to go back to being weak again. I was going to embrace what it meant to be Telvanni—it was my right.

Thanryn looked at me and let his head bob. “Okay, Minx,” he glumly mumbled as his hands moved back to the hilts of the weapons. As he unsheathed the blades, I cocked a brow and pulled out the Grimoire.

I opened it and saw Flare and Frostbite on two pages. “Mico de Ignis,” I shouted with an out-stretched palm. There was loud sound as the ball of flame slammed into his chest—pushing him to the ground.

“You don’t have to die,” I screamed. “Just quit.”

“I can’t,” he growled. “I can’t let you do this.”

I closed the distance and looked down at him. He was struggling to get back to his feet and I gently set my hand on his neck. “Tangere ec Heims,” I mumbled. The Mer fell down and I couldn’t fight the tears that fell down my face. I had frozen the blood in his jugular vein, his death was imminent.

I turned him over and held him in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I tried to say as my tears fell onto his face. The words just wouldn’t come out. And as I looked into his eyes one last time, they showed a sense of sadness. There was not a speck of anger or hatred, just sadness. Then they closed one last time in my arms as he rested on my lap.

“Goodbye, Thanryn Broodikus,” I whispered. “May you find the peace in death that you could not find in life.” For what felt like hours, I just sat there holding him. All I did was stare at his face and think about what I had done and if it was worth it.




This post has been edited by Zalphon: Aug 19 2012, 12:27 AM

@mALX, I'm glad you're enjoying it. There is one problem: I think I'm going to be posting full-length chapters instead of chapter-parts, because I feel a full-length one captures the emotion better.

@McBadgere, I like the concept of magic playing off your own body. I just don't think a fireball has the same feel unless it destroys some body tissue with it (and maybe sends the body into shock from the massive pain hitting all at once).

@ColonelMustard, I am a die-hard Morrowind fan and love it very much. If you've sunk in a few hours and combed the lore enough, it eventually leaves an impact on your writing style. Personally, I see Morrowind as a gritty place (but maybe that's just me).

Um...Okay ...Wasn't expecting that...

...Oh, I liked him...

Hey-ho...

Excellently told tale...

Curious to see where this goes from here... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

The whole beginning sequence of this chapter was stunning! Riveting write! And then this:



WOO HOO !!!! YES !!!!

Absolutely amazing write, I LOVE this story !!! Of all your books, this is my fave so far !!!

Wow, that was quite a remarkable turn of events there! I won't lie, Zalphon, I did not see that one coming and I was genuinely shocked when Minx killed Thanryn. That was a shame, really; I liked Thanryn. Kudos to you as an author for being willing to kill of your characters like that, though; it gives a real sense of threat to the story and I find myself genuinely intrigued to see what happens next and who will actually survive this.

And I never found Morrowind to be a particularly gritty game, if I'm entirely honest. There are some nasty parts to it like the Ministry of Truth and slavery, but otherwise it seems fairly moderate in terms of grittiness, especially compared to some fantasy like Game of Thrones. Still, excellent game nonetheless.

@McBadgere, I did not like seeing him go either--but Minx did it. I blame her...

@mALX, *In a joking tone* You're such a Zal fan-girl, you know that?

@ColonelMustard, On the topic of Thanryn's death, I blame Minx.

@ColonelMustard (continued), *Ponders* You're right on the topic of Morrowind, Morrowind wasn't too gritty *rereads quests on wiki* But I think it's much more interesting if you add a new layer to it.

This post has been edited by Zalphon: Aug 19 2012, 06:59 PM

Chapter Four: Sacrifice

Seryn said nothing as I cradled Thanryn in my arms. His face had a peaceful look on it, but it gave me no comfort. All I could think about was what I had done as I gently traced the crevices in his face with my fingers. At least an hour passed as I sat there.

“Are you okay?” the Specter asked. His voice had a tone of empathy that was atypical of him. We both knew the answer to the question, though. I would survive, because I was strong. And maybe one day I would forgive myself.

I gently pulled Thanryn into one of the alcoves and whispered, “I’ll be back for you—I promise.” It was difficult to turn away from him. It hurt; it felt as if there was a void inside of me. And I knew it wouldn’t go away. With a sigh, I took my first footsteps towards the reddish-black hallway.

With each pace, I had to look back at him. I had to look back to tell myself that he was really gone. To tell myself that he wouldn’t come back, no matter how much I wanted him to. Seryn looked at me and said, “There’s no use dwelling on the past, Minx.”

I didn’t say anything in response to that. My eyes merely looked to the entrance to the hallway opposite of the one we entered in. When I began to walk towards it at a brisk pace, Seryn followed quietly. He showed no signs of difficulty keeping up; I could only guess that was one of the gifts of being undead.

The reddish-black metal was even more detailed here. The other room had simple half-circles and full circles. This hallway was engraved with elegant swirls and within each swirl was another swirl that gave it an almost maze-like appearance. With each step, the swirls on the wall grew larger and more would pour into them.

“It’s a perfect metaphor for their power-hungry views,” Seryn augured. “As one gives more and more to the Lord of Domination, the more and more they become.” That made perfect sense. One could easily be lead to believe they’re becoming more powerful when all they are is a pawn. I still said nothing, but I did push open the door to the next room which was far different than the one before it.

It was a dome-shaped room and in the center was a colossal statue made of the same reddish-black metal. In one of his hands was a mace and in the other was a pair of huge shackles. The engravings were ornate. His ram-like horns twisted out and his tail was lifted in an offensive manner.

“Who built this?” I looked to Seryn curiously.

“This architecture is ancient. It was likely priests from a time long before either of ours and I have been dead for nearly millennia.”

I said no words as I looked around the room. Around the statue were much smaller statues of large men with the heads of crocodiles. They were not made of metal like the room and the Statue of Molag Bal. Their skin appeared to be made of a grey stone dotted with black specks.

“What are these things?” I asked in awe as I stared at one. The statues were almost all identical save for a small variance in height between each of them. They all stood in the same pose—their arms extended as if they were about to rip something apart with their claw-like nails.

“Each one is a Daedroth,” he explained. “The Daedroth are a very dangerous type of Daedra and luckily they are not alive. If they were, I do not think even I could handle all of them.”

I heard a heavy breathing as I examined one and right behind me, I saw one of them move. It’s claws did not reach for me, but it watched me with the beady, crocodilian eyes. “Who are you to intrude upon my father’s shrine?” it asked with a deep voice which was thick with an accent I had never heard before.

I could feel time slow down around me as my heart raced. I felt the thud against my chest with each beat. “I am Minx,” I said with a shaky voice. No matter how hard I tried to muster my confidence, this thing seemed to radiate an aura of fear.

“I am Krokal Bal, the eldest of the children residing here. How much do you value your life, Mortal?”

“Qu-quite a lot,” I stuttered. “I-I’ve grown quite at-attached to it.”

“The priesthood is dead—as they were when we entered this slumber. You are to bring forth a new child to hear the words of Lord Bal.”

My mind couldn’t make sense of the situation at hand. What was I going to do? Bring someone to suffer at the hands of the King of Rape in my place? Or would I just accept my fate. “She will return within a week’s time with a new priest,” Seryn said on my behalf.

“If she does not return with a new priest, I will awaken my siblings and we will find her. And we will wring her pathetic mortal body until there is not a drop of blood left.”

I gulped at the thought of these things doing such an act. And they had the physical strength to; it was quite obvious when one looked upon their muscled bodies that they could easily do it. Would that be my fate if I did not condemn another to serve under Bal’s thumb?

Seryn nodded and we walked back. “We need to leave,” he muttered to me. “Handle Thanryn and then we return to Tel Kirth.”

After we walked out of the Shrine Room and the hallway connected to it, I dragged Thanryn up the steps back out into the fog. The Mer was quite heavy; he was far heavier than I expected him to be. He must have weighed at least two-hundred pounds with all of his armor and weaponry.

Seryn shook his head and touched Thanryn. It was right then that he felt as light as a feather. In a few moments, the corpse was up the steps and onto the moist dirt outside of Ansurbas. “I’d like to speak to him,” I looked to Seryn. “Privately.”

The Specter disappeared when I finished my sentence. It was just Thanryn and me. I knelt beside him and grabbed his chitin-covered hand. “I’m sorry, Thanryn. I was afraid—I was afraid of what was going to happen and I reacted without thinking.”

For a few moments, I looked down at him and still expected to hear a response. Something along the lines of: “its okay, Minx. You didn’t mean to.” But then reality came crashing down and I realized it wouldn’t come. It wasn’t okay.

“What happened in there,” I continued with tears welling in my eyes. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Thanryn. I wish I could just…change it, but I can’t.” As I finished that last word, I felt the familiar heat of a tear running down my face. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my robes and gently kissed his forehead.

With tears running down my face, I reached down and pulled the Rosary from off his neck. Gently, I dragged him into the water and watched him sink. “Good bye,” I tried to say. The words were in my mouth, but they wouldn’t leave. I wanted them to, but they just wouldn’t.

Then the world around me changed again. The strange land around me was transmogrified into the familiar setting of my quarters. Seryn was standing in a corner looking at me as I held the Rosary. Before he could say anything, I put it around my neck and slid the face into my robes.

“Why did you take the Rosary?” the Specter asked inquisitively.

I didn’t say anything, but I just looked at him and he did not continue to probe. It was all I had left of Thanryn and I wouldn’t let him leave completely. I needed something to remember him by, if only for those time when my life would be darkest.

“I don’t want to corrupt an innocent for Molag Bal,” I stated. “It’s not what Thanryn would have wanted.”

“We’re not going to. We leave this place tonight at midnight and we will become nomads.”

“But…I have so much I can learn from Lord Kirth.”

“I am not asking, Pupil. The Daedroth will hunt us down, but if we can stay ahead of their tracks for long enough—we may eventually be able to fight them.”

“You think it’s possible, Seryn?”

“Yes, but we will need to leave soon. I will be residing within the Grimoire when we enter towns and you will go by false names.”

“Is this really going to be our life?”

“Until Krokal and his siblings are dead,” he responded. “We will be without roots.”

I slowly nodded my head. If that was what we had to do to survive, that was what we would do. My hands dug around in my knapsack looking for the skull. When it was within my grasp, I walked towards Lord Kirth’s quarters to see him with a different scamp. This one was slightly taller and was sitting beside Kirth as he looked at me expectantly.

“You have the skull?”

“Yes, Master,” I held it up for his inspection. “It is the Skull of Nelos, as you requested.”

The skull was jerked from my hand by an invisible force and it hovered towards him. The black lips of his curled into a smile. When he grabbed it in his hands, he carefully placed it on his desk. There was a look of pride in his eyes when he set it down.

“Who is Nelos Lethan?” I asked curiously.

His eyes diverted from the skull up to me. “He was once a member of the Tribunal Temple, now leave me to my research. When I need you, you will be called forth again.” I bowed deeply to show respect and turned around. I doubted he would ever know I had left once I was gone, at least until he needed me and that could’ve been any time.

Seryn stood waiting for me when I returned to my quarters. He said nothing, but when I looked at my robes—I did notice the tear from the scamp’s claws and that they had begun to smell of sweat. “Would you allow me to change?” I asked politely. The Specter let out a quick nod before he vanished.

I pulled the sash off and took the layers of clothing off. As they fell, I felt the chill of this place once-again. It was something I had forgotten about with everything that had transpired. My mind quickly moved to the fact that I needed some clothes and I looked in the dresser. It was definitely bigger on the inside than on the outside and it was lined with all manners of clothing.

Robes, jackets, shirts, skirts, pants, boots and shoes of all colors were within. My fingers rustled through the clothes and I pulled out a pair of leather boots, some loose-fitting, linen pants and a long-sleeved shirt made of the same material. Over the shirt, I pulled on a hooded cloak. All of the clothes shared the same color: Midnight Black.

When I finished dressing myself, I called Seryn back. “I am sorry, Seryn,” I mumbled. “I needed something that would be a bit less obvious about the fact that I am Magi.”

“Concealing your arcane prowess is wise,” he responded. “Mages are typically looked upon with more suspicion than common-folk.”

“How long do you think we’ll be able to stay ahead of Krokal?”

“You know I don’t know the answer to that, Minx. I just know that we need to stay ahead of them and staying here isn’t going to let us do that.” My head bobbed in acknowledgement of what he had said. What were we going to do?

I sat on my bed and waited for the time to pass. No words were spoken between Seryn and me as my mind was left to wander. While I sat there thinking about Thanryn, my fingers slowly found their way around the bi-colored symbol of Vivec on the Rosary. For some reason it made me feel safe.

Eventually the silence was broken by Seryn’s hoarse voice. “Nightfall will be coming soon,” he stated. “Where do you wish to go, Minx?”

“Vvardenfell is my home, Seryn. I don’t know if I want to leave it, but I also don’t know if it’s safe here anymore.”

“We’ll need to operate under secrecy. And we can’t stay in the same place for more than a few days lest the Daedra employ agents to hunt us down.”

“Let’s go,” I said as I looked in my knapsack. I couldn’t pack anything to eat or drink, because there was nothing here to pack. I think Tel Kirth simply provided for my needs, but that was going to change. All I had was the Grimoire in my knapsack and the clothes on my back.

I looked around the room one last time and let out a sigh that was dwelling deep within my chest. It had only been a short time, but I had grown accustomed to my stay here. There was a warm bed waiting at the end of the day and I never suffered from being hungry. It was going to be hard to return to my old, but it was what I had to do.

I pushed open the door and began to walk down the stairs. Seryn followed close behind and eventually we reached the door to this tower. It was the portal from this luxurious life as Lord Kirth’s apprentice to one as a nomadic wizard scrounging to survive. “Is this really right, Tamarion?” I looked back at him.

He just nodded and motioned for me to push the door open. Obediently, I gave it a gentle shove and saw out into the land around Tel Kirth for the first time. We were on the mainland at least, because I didn’t see several isles around us.

I looked up to the sky and let out a gentle sigh; it was a happy sigh. For the first time since I met Lord Kirth, I had the opportunity to look up at the stars. I couldn’t name any of the constellations, but it was nice to think about things bigger than myself. To just stare up and wonder what it’s like.

“Minx, we need to keep moving,” Seryn stated. “We only have a few hours of time before you’ll need rest.” The serious tone of his voice jerked me back to reality. I looked over to him and he was still walking forward at a rather brisk pace.

I hurried to his side and began walking at the same pace as him. “Do you ever look up the stars?” I asked. “I mean, when you were alive.”

The Specter looked over to me and casually bobbed his head. “When I was young, I knew all the constellations and their effects on the mortal form,” he responded. “The way the stars are aligned during one’s birth can have effects on them, but typically they’re very mild.”

My head bobbed. Was it even possible for the stars to have effects on us? And did this mean that I had been in some way changed by the stars? I looked over to Seryn, but I did not say anything. If anything it was just sort of odd to think about how different I might be if I was born on a different night.

Eventually we came upon a worn, dirt road and I looked to Seryn. He said nothing and only stared forward. Something was pressing on his mind and I dared not interrupt him. With our first steps onto the road, I could only think about the long journey in front of us.

This post has been edited by Zalphon: Aug 22 2012, 11:09 AM

Blimey, this is story is unpredictable as hell! I love it!I You managed to orchestrate the entire incident with the Daedroths perfectly, and I'm be intrigued as how their hunt for Mix will clash with the hunt that Kirth will inevitably start. Not to mention the farewell to Thanryn was really a rather moving scene, and masterfully written.

I await the next installment with great eagerness.

Ooooh, niiice!!... ...

This writing is amazing...

A brilliant story, brilliantly done...

Looking forward to seeing what comes next...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

‘I didn’t entirely understand how it worked, but I just nodded. I knew if I continued to speak on the matter, he’d likely make me experience what it’s like to be in one of these pockets. And if it was anything like Mindfire or Flare, I wanted nothing to do with it.’
I can imagine!

Growing into a Telvanni exacts a steep toll it seems as Minx makes her choices and kills her friend.

‘My mind quickly moved to the fact that I needed some clothes and I looked in the dresser. It was definitely bigger on the inside than on the outside and it was lined with all manners of clothing.’
Oooh! I know someone who neeeeds such a magical wardrobe container!

So begins life of the road with a ghost while being hunted by a horde of Daedroth. Minx is an unusual character with many currents running through her.

I was very surprised Minx disposed of Thanryn's body, and how she did it was amazing! One chapter of her life ends and another begins, really interesting! Great Write!!

Edit: Removed--I intend to rewrite this chapter much differently.

This post has been edited by Zalphon: Nov 3 2012, 09:43 PM

Interesting that statement and the fact that he is always a prisoner in shackles when they speak!


Naveth sounds like trouble!

EW! I'd have to wash that key! Great Write !!!

Out of interest, is Naveth a location in the game or is it your own invention? It looks like an interesting place, but I don't think I've ever run across it when I was playing. Then again, I never spent much time exploring the Telvanni parts of Vvardenfel, so that might explain why.

In any case, this is certainly an unneeded delay for Minx considering that she's trying to put as much ground between her and the Shrine of Molag Bal as possible, and I suspect that disentangling herself from the local politics is not going to be as simple a task as simply delivering some spiced Flin. I'll be interested to see how our young mage will get herself out of this mess.

Blimey...Getting stuck in with this questing isn't she?... ...

Runs away from one, only to get stuck in with another...

Brilliant stuff...Loving it...

Teeny Nits...You did that thing with the repeating of the "Each step" sentence at the start...

And...



Yes, you told us a few lines earlier... ...

Otherwise...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

@Malx, Even the guards are trouble...I wouldn't go there.

@Colonel Mustard, It's a creation of my own. Also her reason for going was initially supplies (she's been without food or water since she left Tel Kirth).

@McBadgere, I do believe I over-edited. If I would've left it alone, I think we may've not had the problem with the over-usage.

@Acadian, I'm glad that the spells are being received so well. Also, I'm inclined to agree. If I had a friend like Seryn to give me advice, I'd talk to him before things that are "too good to believe".

Edit: Responded to Acadian



This post has been edited by Zalphon: Aug 29 2012, 12:36 AM

‘He slid his open palm over them and then ink seemed to surface. It was like watching something come to the surface of a lake, but it surfaced on paper.’
Nicely put! In fact I enjoyed your descriptions of the spells as well.

“You’re not armed. Only a fool or a mage doesn’t carry a sword in Naveth.”
Ahah, clever observation!

“What kind of package?” I probed. This was too easy and too good to be true. A thousand drakes for delivering a simple package was hard to believe.’
I bet Minx is right. Talking to her ghostly pal is probably an excellent idea.

*Taps foot impatiently*...

...

I apologize, McBadgere--I've been writing a few pieces outside of my normal genre (Fantasy). I'll get back to this as fast as I can! And if you'd like to see what I've been working on--just ask