Oblivious, I'm trying comedy. Again! Options

[Colonel Mustard]

Right, I've been inspired by Brian Clevinger's utterly, er, inspirational webcomic, 8-bit Theatre, and I've decided to try my hand at doing comedy in the Elder Scrolls setting (again). Only this time I intend to stick with it.

Like I stuck with it last time...

Oblivious

Chapter 1

The currents that make up the infernal, twisted realm of Oblivion flow stronger and faster than ever before. Deep within its darkest depths, fiends and monsters gather under the banner of their twisted patron, ready to spill forth in a tide of madness and evil that will surely destroy the entire realm. Only a band of heroes, heroes who shall face a thousand trials and emerge triumphant, can stand against this evil.

Four warriors of doughty and virtuous resolve needed, please apply at the gates of Anvil Castle before three o'clock 14th Hearthfire. Reward promised.

“Well,” Hlarras said as he read the notice. “That looks promising.”

O'Nigel nodded.

“It does, doesn't it?” he said. “I wander what they'll provide in the way of reward.”

“I don't know,” Hlarras said. “Usually it's something good. The save the kingdom from unspecified evil gig generally pays well.”

“Perhaps,” O'Nigel mused. “But we'd still need two more people before we can apply.”

“True,” Hlarrar said. The dark elf frowned. “But where are we going to find two adventurers who are willing become meatshields, sorry, companions, with us in our quest application.”

“The guilds?” O'Nigel asked. “They always seem to have a large supply of cheap and disposable manpower.”

“Now, now, O'Nigel,” Hlarras said admonishingly. “The guilds have provided Cyrodiil with some valuable and much needed heroes in times past.”

There was a silence, before the two of them burst out laughing.

Once they had recovered from their fit of hilarity, Hlarras nodded.

“Let's see what we can pick up,” he said.

#

As Dunmer and orc approached Anvil's fighter's guild building, they saw a band of four men go past. They were grizzled and scarred, coated in muscle and looking ready to fight anything.

“You reckon they're out for the Oblivion job?” Hlarras asked.

“I'm not sure,” O'Nigel said, adjusting his monocle to get a better look at the men. “Then again they look ready to complete any quest, however perilous.”

“Pah,” Hlarras said. “They're just power levellers and dungeon divers, let me tell you. I bet you they just play World of Warcraft all the time.”

“Probably all have headsets just so they can chat with their 'buddies,'” O'Nigel said. “Probably haven't got girlfriends.”

“I bet you they only paid for their ultra-powerful weapons and high weapons,” Hlarras said, seeming to lose heart slightly.

“And can breeze their way through a dungeon full of mooks,” O'Nigel said quietly. “I want to be like them.”

“I know,” Hlarras replied in a small voice.

“Let's see if we can find somebody at the fighter's guild, shall we?” O'Nigel asked. “We need to apply fast if they are.”

“Well why not just ask at the mage's guild?” Hlarras asked. “Bound to be somebody there who can help us get that job?”

“What's that about a job?” somebody asked behind them. Hlarras and O'Nigel turned to see an imperial, rearing the grubby green robes of a low ranking mage, hurry up behind them. “I need a job.”

“Really,” Hlarras said. “We're applying for a dangerous quest, you see. What can you bring to the group?”

“I can bring a knowledge of all magical schools to this group,” the man said. “I was with the guild, you see, before they chucked me out.”

“Why was that?” O'Nigel said.

“Apparently tampering with the laws of space and time in order to increase my skills in destruction magic is unethical,” the imperial replied.

“Okay,” Hlarras said. “Just a minute.”

He hurried a few paces away with O'Nigel.

“Manipulating the laws of space and time?” he asked. “Did I hear that right?”

“That's what I heard,” O'Nigel said. “That could come in useful.”

“Tell me about it,” Hlarras said. “Should he come?”

“I don't see why not then,” O'Nigel said.

“Excellent,” Hlarras said, clapping hands together and turning around. “Welcome aboard mr...”

“Antius,” the man replied. “Antius Nuntius.”

“Hlarras Laran,” Hlarras said.

“Agrad Leck O'Nigel,” O'Nigel said. “But call me O'Nigel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Antius said. “So what exactly is it that you're doing?”

“There's some quest to save Cyrodiil that we can apply for at the castle,” Hlarras explained. “But we need four people to join up.”

“Ah, the good old save the kingdom deal,” Antius said. “So who else is with you?”

“Nobody yet,” Hlarras said.

“Usually in classical fiction the fourth member of the quest is a more pacifistic healer character,” O'Nigel said. “Usually a second mage of some sort.”

“Sometimes it can be a cleric or priest,” Antius suggested. “Maybe we could try the chapel here, seeing as we already have a mage.”

“Who we don't know is any good,” Hlarras muttered.

“What was that?” Antius asked.

“Nothing,” Hlarras replied innocuously. “So are we going to find somebody else?”

They continued their walk through Anvil's busy streets, towards the chapel.

“Hold on, aren't they all pacifists or something here?” Hlarras asked.

“It is a chapel of Dibella,” O'Nigel said. “They do have the best healers there.”

“Oh, hippies,” Hlarras said disapprovingly. “Still, they do have good healers, it's true.”

“Hold on,” Antius asked. “If they're all pacifists, why would they join a quest that would inevitably involve killing things?”

“That's a good point you have there,” Hlarras said. “And so I choose to ignore it.”

“Is he always like this?” Antius asked O'Nigel.

“Pretty much,” the orc replied. “I find it's best just to let him be.”

“Ah, right,” Antius said.

“So are we going to stand here, or are we going to find a priest?” Hlarras asked.

“Technically it's a cleric we want,” O'Nigel said. “As clerics are a combat-orientated kind of priest that often accompanies soldiers into wars to provide moral and spiritual support.”

“Although chaplains also fulfil that role sometimes,” Antius said.

“That's true,” O'Nigel said. “Of course, it could be argued that missionaries...”

“That's lovely,” Hlarras said curtly. “Especially seeing as nobody cares and this is getting us nowhere.”

“He's got you there,” Antius said.

“You were taking part in that conversation,” Hlarras growled.

He stalked away, O'Nigel and Antius following him quickly.

“You think we're going to find a cleric?” O'Nigel asked Antius.

“I don't know,” Antius asked. “Of course, it could be a chap-”

He was cut short by Hlarras screaming; “SHUT UP!!”

[Colonel Mustard]

Thanks Seerauna. And in answer to your question, yes, I do mean Sithis, as Hlarras is in the employ of the Dark Brotherhood.

Chapter 3

The assault was described as the most vicious and brutal event in recent history. Crowds of the Black Horse Courier's readers were shocked to discover the horrific details, particularly when one of the victims was thrown out of a window, and when the elf had his spine pulled out of his mouth. The case's judge described it as 'sickening' and 'shocking.'

However, after a complex legal process, the four adventurers were let off, as it was decided they were acting in self defense. Instead, the four perpetrators of the assault were to be given a prison sentence as soon as they had recovered from their injuries, though shortened due to the fact that the injuries they had sustained were most likely punishment enough.

And so, after a month of recovery, Hlarras, O'Nigel, Antius and Rekard were thrown in prison. Non of them were terribly happy about it.

“Well this is just great,” Hlarras muttered. “This is absolutely bloody brilliant. We're in prison. Whoop dee-bloody-doo.”

“It isn't exactly the heroic quest you said we would undertake,” Rekard said. “I expected more along the lines of fame and glory, not rotting in a prison cell.”

“Yeah, yeah, it's rubbish,” Hlarras said. “And we all know who's fault it was!”

There was an awkward silence in the cell for a moment.

“I believe it was your idea,” O'Nigel said. “So it's your fault, really.”

“Oh yeah,” Hlarras said slowly.

“How can you forget that?” Rekard asked.

“I think the trauma of having my spine torn out of my body by way of my mouth most likely forced me to repress some memories,” Hlarras said. “You know, for the sake of my sanity.”

“Fair enough,” O'Nigel said. “But you've got nobody to blame but yourself.”

“I could try and blame it on somebody else though,” Hlarras said. “I mean, Antius was subliminally planting a message to attack those people in my head all along, I'll bet.”

There was a pause, before the others shook their heads.

“Hlarras, that was just pathetic,” O'Nigel said.

Hlarras sighed and leant against the bars.

“Hey, you, kinsman,” somebody called from across the cells. Hlarras looked around to see another dark elf in the opposite cell. “Where you from? Vvardenfel? I bet you got a wife back there.”

“No,” Hlarras replied. “I've never even been to Vvardenfel.”

“Oh really?” the elf said. “I'll bet she's lonely. You know what, I'll be out of here soon. Maybe I'll go pay a visit to her. After all, she'll miss her husband, and she'll need company. But as for you, you're going to die in here! Ha!”

As the elf broke into a fit of laughter, Hlarras turned away, looking confused.

“I don't think he's listening,” he said to the others.

There was the sound of a door closing upstairs, and the sound of armoured boots hurrying down the prisons stairs.

“Maybe it's the guards,” Antius said. “Coming to get rid of big mouth over there.”

As O'Nigel peeked out of the bars to take a look at the arrivals.

“No, they aren't guards,” he said. “Look more like soldiers.”

Three heavily armoured soldiers hurried down the stairs, accompanied by an elderly man in ornately made blue robes. O'Nigel retreated back into his cell.

“There's some old man and what looks like bodyguards,” he said. “What an earth are they doing-?”

“What are these prisoners doing down here?” one of the bodyguards, a woman, snapped as she saw the four men inside. “This cell is supposed to be off limits.”

“There must have been some kind of mix up with the watch,” another man, a redguard, suggested. “It happens all the time.”

“Alright,” the woman grumbled. “Just get this cell open. I don't want anybody following us. Stand back, prisoners.”

The prisoners shuffled back.

“Hey,” Hlarras muttered to Antius. “I reckon that if we jump them now we can take their things and walk away free men.”

“What?” Antius hissed. “Don't you remember the last time we tried to take on four people who massively outclassed us in every manner?”

“No, I don't actually,” Hlarras replied. “I'm trying not to because believe me, having your spine ripped out of your body via your mouth is the most excruciatingly agonising thing that can happen to a person, and I should know!”

“Wait a moment,” the old man said, before turning towards the four huddled in the corner. “I've seen you.”

“Have you?” Hlarras said.

“Indeed,” the man said. “Do you not recognise me?”

There was a pause as they thought about this.

“No, we don't,” Antius said. “If you think about it, if we did then we would have said; 'Oh my god, it's so-and-so that we know?'”

“He's right, you know,” O'Nigel said. “Who are you?”

“I am the Emperor of Tamriel, and I have seen you in my dreams,” the man said. “All of your faces are familiar to me.”

“Hippy,” Hlarras muttered.

The man glared at him before continuing.

“If that is so, then gods give me strength,” he said.

“What gods?” Reckard asked. “And anyway, what's going on here?”

“Assassins have killed my sons,” the Emperor said. “And I believe that I am next.”

“The message said that they were only attacked, sire,” the woman said.

“No, I know they are dead,” the Emperor said.

“He's cheerful, isn't he?” Hlarras asked.

Renault ignored the dark elf and walked to the wall next to the cell's alcove. She searched for a moment, before pressing down on a stone. Instead of remaining firmly in its mortar, however, the stone depressed, sliding into the wall. There was a rumbling, and a shower of dust as the wall slid down, revealing a passage of rough hewn stone beneath it.

“A secret passage,” O'Nigel murmured. “Ingenious.”

“Alright prisoners, it looks like it's your lucky day,” one of the redguards said. “Just don't try anything. I've got my eye on you.”

“Oh, because we're really going to try and deal with four armed people with just our fists,” Hlarras muttered. “That's a really good idea.”

“You didn't say that before,” Antius pointed out. “You said we should try it.”

“Shut up Antius,” Hlarras said.

“Look, shall we get going,” O'Nigel asked.

“Yeah, we should go,” Rekard suggested.

And so, the four followed the Emperor and his bodyguards into the darkness beneath the prisons.