Mephala's Maiden: Black Rose Clan Options

[Black Hand]

Hey guys, this isnt a divergence from the main story I have, but rather, I have been trying out a new type of character on my X-Box, a custom class 'Geisha' after seeing the movie 'Memoirs of a Geisha' Recently, and I gotta tell ya, its a lot of fun. Something different to be sure. It inspired this. Enjoy. (I hope.)


“Who was that lady, Sera?” asked Sayuri, looking at Edryno Arethi, her current matron in House Hlaalu.

“No one, get back too your duties, Retainer.” Edrnyo replied, twirling the Black Rose in her hand, a deathly pale in her face, she had been delivered the death message and was in no mood to speak.

Sayuri, the young Bosmer girl had been adopted by House Hlaalu after her parents had been murdered by a Telvanni Mage whilst in Sadrith Mora, and one of the Merchants traveling in his own ship to trade, took pity on the little crying girl, dropping her off in Balmora, and told Nileno Dorvayn of her plight.

She remembered the tsking of Nileno, and the warmth of her palm as she rubbed her cheek affectionately. She was given clothes and a bed, and place to sleep, and she was put to work, alternately being trained in House Hlaalu’s favored skills, for three years she served mostly as a serving girls, performing menial tasks, and occasionally as a thief, or a decoy. She loved it, as it seemed to coincide naturally with her gods-given talents.

Bratheru Oran, Edryno’s lover took the rose from her hand, and threw it on the ground, smashing it underneath his leather boots. His expression showed that of rage and helplessness. Sayuri would not bring it up again for three weeks, but one day, when Edryno gave her a key to her house, and told her that she would be gone for several weeks, she finally explained, as she had never held anything back from her adopted daughter for long.

“Do you remember that Rose, Sayuri? The black one?” she asked, as Sayuri nodded her head, remembering the vivacious Altmer that had delivered it, dressed in exquisite clothing and wearing Telvanni Bug Musk.

“You’ve been chosen, and are being taken from me, under the pain of death, I cannot refuse. The Black Rose Clan is taking you, and you will serve them. I…I am leaving to speak to them, and perhaps negotiate an alternative. But seldom will they refute a selection.”

“Black Rose Clan? Matron, I don’t understand!” Sayuri said nearly on the brink of tears.

“You know of the Morag Tong? They worship the Great Daedra Mephala, the Dark Matron of Murder, Sex, and Secrets. They are a small faction within the Tong, dedicated to the second part of that. Whereas most assassins are dark, aloof, and grim in nature, a Black Rose, or a Dark Petal, also Thorns or Mephala’s Maidens, rely more on Personality and Agility. As every rose have five petals, so does the Clan. When one ‘wilts’ away as they call it, either killed, or grows to old too become pleasing to men, another must be chosen to take their place. You, because you are born under the Sign of ‘The Lover’ which gives you more agility, and the power to freeze people, will become the newest petal in the Black Rose.”

Sayuri’s eyes tried to no avail to hold back the tears of confusion and frustration. For the second time in her life, she was to lose her family. Edyrno ran her hand through the childs raven dark hair, and embraced her, attempting to comfort the shaking Bosmer.

“I know, I promise everything will be all right…”

[Black Hand]

Horror soon gave way to fascination. Sayuri was entranced with this new lifestyle that had been thrust upon her. She was taught everything. The passage was harsh and cruel. She had to walk just so, speak just so. Failure was met strict physical punishment. That punishment would be anything from a whipping, to picking a lock upside down, in freezing cold water while stripped. She would run out of breath in Zafirbel Bay, and Errisa would hold her head under, until a blackness washed over her.

She would awaken to verbal chastising, always about how there is no room for failure. That there were no freebies, one mistake would result in her death. She would cry quietly in a corner until Errisa threw a book at her and told her to start over, balancing the book on her head and walking just so.

She learned how to play a lute, and sing. She read ancient tomes in daedric sigils. She learned where the best places to sink a dagger into flesh were. She learned how to throw a silver dart with pinpoint accuracy. She learned how to hide in plain sight, and how to hide in shadow. She learned how to speak to people. Above all, she learned. Within three years, Sayuri was a worthy apprentice, and as intelligent as an Imperial Scholar. And, most importantly she had bloomed into a beautiful woman. A black rose.

Errisa examined her protégé. She stood behind her, as Sayuri looked into the mirror. As a graduation present, Errisa had bought her a new dress. Not just any, one from the Clothier Elegnan, in Tel Mora. Another Bosmer, she understood the subtleties in the Wood Elf form like no other. The elegant silks hugged every curve, and the neckline was revealing, yet tasteful.

“And I have one more thing for you, sister.” Errisa said, handing her a small blade.

Sayuri took the gift and unsheathed it. The dagger was perhaps no more than eight inches in length. The handle was a pure black ebony, fluted with a hand carved swirl from the bolster to the pommel. The pommel itself was wrapped with a sapphire- blue band at its base, and topped off with a silver knob. The bolster was a similar silver, and the guard was a large, severe, oval with a similar sapphire blue decoration, but with a diagonal silver inlaid in sections, making the sapphire blue a series of squares.

The blade was an equally beautiful design, double-edged; with the base of the blade meeting the rest with a couple of spike-like protrusions, then arcing back to meet the rest of the blade, that extended into a slender inch, then arced out again into the fluted design, only to meet again at a sinisterly sharp tip.

“The metal is an alloy of adamantium and silver. It is unenchanted of course, as we wouldn’t want a wizard to sense where you are, even in shadow. But still able to ignore any resistance to normal weapons.”

“It’s beautiful, sister...” Sayuri said, trailing off.

“Yes, the blade and you are alike in many ways. Beautiful, yet deadly. Most effective when used in the right way at the right time. And it too, is a virgin blade.”

Sayuri looked at the mirror, into Errisa’s eyes. The dead green emeralds were laughing and dancing, crowing about the secret that they knew.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that while you have studied and practiced; you still have yet to experience. To experience what it truly means to be a dark petal.”

“You mean I have to kill someone? Or sleep with someone?”

“Dear Sister, for you it will be one and the same. There have been plans for you set forth from years back. Have you never questioned why we are in Sadrith Mora?”

Sayuri’s brows knitted. It was on the tip of her tongue. It was a lantern that had always been there, but had now suddenly been lit. Sadrith Mora was the place that she had come back too, even after that terrible day, so many years ago.

The pieces slowly started to fit together.