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]

Errisa twirled the kreshweed flower between her fingers. She gently brought the petals to her nose, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Azura’s Coast. Her little protégé was doing so well!

“So he has sent you gifts, and enticed you back to his stronghold already. One thousand drakes for one night of music, I am certain.” Errisa said with a darkly humorous twist to her lips.

Sayuri sat on her Matrons couch her face a blank page. Inside, however she was a tortured soul. To be so close to the man who had taken her parents from her, and to smile to his face. To walk just so, to speak to him and laugh. It was a dance, as Errisa had taught her, and she was certainly leading.

She also realized the web that had been weaved, her target selected for her, years before. And while she had thoughts of escaping, of refusing to kill, of maintaining her innocence. They had selected the one person that she would never refuse to kill. She now knew him by the name of Brithos Andrethi.

She had embraced the skills that had been instilled in her over these many years. Because she hated him, because she wanted him to suffer. Not because Mephala was pleased by it, and not because the Black Rose wanted it. Because she did.

“I take it you have accepted the invitation?” Errisa said placing the flower back into the vase.

“I’m playing coy for the meantime, but said I would have an answer at the end of my set tonight.”

“Good. You will of course accept. He will of course listen to you sing, and then will want to engage you in conversation, a drink perhaps. Then. When he is feeling just a little drunk, and more than a little amorous, he will try words, then touch, then emotions, and then force to take you into his bed. Between touch, and emotions, is when you must accept his advances. See them through….and then…..” she said looking to Sayuri’s wrist, concealing her dagger.

Sayuri as Azalea Blackleaf finished her set that evening with a song that she had written herself. It was a slight transcendental piece that spoke of loneliness, loveliness, and loss. Brithos said he loved it, as he approached her, gently inquiring her about her his initiation.

Sayuri accepted of course, with a smile and a demure look downwards. Brithos arranged for the two to meet the next morning at the docks.

She wore the light blue robes of a Telvanni mage, with simple designs around the edges of the sleeves and flaps, fastened together by a matching belt tied in the khajiit monk style with the two extra long edges meeting the bottom flap of the robe. Across her back, her lute lay. Hidden in her sleeves her dagger lay.

She let the winds of Zafirbel Bay blow her dark hair about, as she awaited the loss of two things that held her back from becoming a dark petal.

Brithos walked across the tendrils of the mushroom that made the docks. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and extended one to the ship that awaited them. She smiled and began the walk forward.