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]

Sayuri took the lead, nervously looking at the grey-green walls and steps that made up the foreboding place, the rest of the clan following close behind. Errisa finally broke the silence, her lilting voice echoing off the ancient walls, spinning in with the torch’s inconstant flicker, created an atmosphere of a bard telling a yarn at a tavern at night.

“This shrine was once known as Erustadammus. Built as high and glorious as any other shrine, it, much like the shrine to Boethia, fell into disrepair and misuse with the ascent of the Tribunal in the first era, before it all but disappeared.”

”When the Morag Tong swore fealty to Vivec-who-is-Mephala, and was granted the right to continue worship to his anticipation directly, the Black Rose wasted no time in securing that last known location to worshipping Mephala. Granted special permission by the temple, the Morag Tong, and we, the splinter now have sole access and ownership of it. Not that anyone would necessarily want to come out all this way, only on her holy day, the 13th of Frost Fall, or in times of choosing a new petal, or initiating a new one do we deign to ask her presence.”

Sayuri blinked. “So this is where I was chosen?”

Errisa looked at her incredulously. “Of course.”

The long, winding descent finally ended into a large chamber with many ember-red glowing torch-chandeliers released a mist that slowly fell in a dead dance to the floor, blanketing the stone tile, making it completely unseen.

To the other end of the chamber, stood the massive and impressive statue of Mephala. Sayuri swallowed, almost expecting the fearsome visage would come to life and give judgment to her soul.

The head was a woman’s with fierce eyes that were inlayed with a coppery metal, that in the light flickered with a semblance of life. Her headdress was a strange style that she couldn’t place in cultural terms. Her mouth was opened revealing small fangs, her tongue was hanging from the open orifice ending just below her chin.

Around her neck she wore a necklace of skulls that rested against the massive breasts, her two upper arms were extended outwards, one clutched a dagger in the fist, and the other was a palm offered to the ceiling and heavens. Her two lower arms were clutched together in front of her abdomen. The right leg was extended upwards to the side, and bent at the knee, so that she stood on her left leg, revealing the androgynous aspect of the Daedra, both a man and a woman’s birthing tools. ‘Grossly exaggerated’ as the old texts wrote of, yet so rarely seen since the time of the Chimer in the first era, when the tribunal and the Dunmer first appeared in Resdayn.

“The hands speak of her dualities-in-one. The upper hands outstretch welcoming all to the mother, while the lower ones clasp, holding onto all those who hold her. One upper arm offers a dagger, while one shows a hand offering peace. But the palm hides the true intent of the dagger. And the outstretched arms offering herself, is met with the ambiguity of her sphere, the inability of the mortal mind to understand her, or her secrets.” Genevieve started.

“I could go on for weeks, and none of what is being shown here could begin to make any sense.”

“One of those represents the Morag Tong, and the other represents us?” Sayuri asked pointing to the depiction between the idols legs.

Genevieve looked up and smiled, “I suppose they do. And yet, not, and yet, many other things at the same time. Welcome to your mother/father’s shrine, priestess.”