Shade-Eyes, One elf's descent into Oblivion. Options

[kementari]

Hey, all.

So, long time lurker, first time poster. I've really enjoyed reading all the stories you guys have put up over the years.

I've been working on chronicling a group of vignettes on and off since 2006, and it's still a work-in-progress. Some disclaimers:

First, it's all quite long, so I sincerely apologize if anyone gets TLDR syndrome from reading it. Additionally, I tend to take a little free license with lore where Bethesda has been silent, so please don't crucify me for some of my inventions passed off as "world fact" in the story. Finally, I do draw some of my plots from game elements, but I change them where I think I can do better. Please don't let either of those admissions become the basis for hating me. Writing these stories is cathartic to me, and in some small way, I feel like fanfiction is the highest form of glorification I can give the story guys over at Bethesda.

I'd also really love feedback (CRITICISM! PLEASE!) on characterization, prose, pacing, or anything else, if any of you have the time or willingness to give it. While I of course appreciate even small affirmations, "hm, good work" doesn't really help me grow as a storyteller.

Anyway, here goes. Hope you enjoy it.

This post has been edited by kementari: May 27 2008, 12:31 AM

[kementari]

Imperial City, Sun's Dusk 30, 3E414


I was tending my post as usual – the bridge between the Imperial City and the Arcane University. Not much traffic there on a normal day, and with it pouring so bad today there was even less. Only person I saw for most of the day was a kid, huddled up on the railing midway across the bridge. Skinny kid, dressed in rags. Normally I'd chase a vagrant like that off, but there's an overhang near the City I like to stand under when it gets rainy, and you know how heavy our armor is. Clanking around with rust getting in the joints wasn't my idea of a good time. Anyway, he scooted soon enough. Some fancypants from the University came over around lunchtime, and he must've yelled at the kid or something. Kid took off like a shot.
- Dyus Mido, Imperial Legion guardsman

I simply cannot abide the abhorrent state of things in our fair City any longer. No one has any manners anymore, nor do they think to pass them on to their offspring. And the lower classes are the worst! Just today, an unfortunate woman came in to sell some clothing. We were settling on a price when a barefoot, dirty-faced youngster nearly threw my shop's door off its hinges! He proceeded to tug at her skirts and repeat “He's here, Mama,” until she abruptly scooped up the fabrics and left without even an apology! The nerve.
- Jensine, secondhand goods merchant

You know, some guys are really hen-pecked these days. Poor fellas. I couldn't stand it, myself. Guess that's why I never got a woman of my own. Saw a guy today, right in the middle of a mug of ale, right down at the other end of the bar there. His ol' lady comes in, all a-bustle, and she grabs him by the ear and near about chews his nose off with her scoldin'. He leaves, all meek-like, and us guys in the bar have a good laugh about it. Wonder how many o' them went home to a bag just like her, though...
- Algot the Northerner, barfly

Amusei is frustrated. Sometimes it seems he will never make it into the Thieves' Guild. The dark human, Armand-Christophe, says he will meet Amusei today at the fourth bell! Yet when he goes to the house of Armand-Christophe, Amusei finds no one. Amusei asks around and finds that Armand-Christophe has some “business”. Business that is more important than Amusei!
- Amusei, itinerant and Thieves' Guild hopeful

I'm not lying, Rolf! You're just jealous that Armand never asks you to deliver letters. Although I couldn't peek at this letter, it had a big lump of wax on the front. I don't know what it said. No, I can't tell you where I took it, Armand made me promise. He gave me a whole septim for it. No, I promised! Thieves' Honor, remember? Well... I guess if you let me in your clubhouse... maybe. But you can't tell Armand!
- Anja, six years old, pickpocket


The rain thundered on the roof of Lily's wooden shack on the Waterfront of City Isle. It had been falling in sheets since the previous night, when she had returned to the Imperial City drenched to the bone. Now, though her still-damp robes hung draped over a chair near the crackling hearth, Lily was dry and warm. She sat curled up in bed, reading a tattered copy of The Mystery of Talara. Sometimes she chided herself for secretly relishing the story of the lookalike girls separated in their youth by vicious bloodshed, but she simply enjoyed the ending – the clever prostitute unraveling a decades-old mystery – too much to rid herself of the book.

She turned a page, engrossed in Gyna's journey of discovery, when she heard a noise at the door. Frowning, she put the book down and stood, shrugging on a thick fur robe against the chill. She poked her head out the door of the shanty, but there was no one in sight. She narrowed her eyes and gazed around more searchingly, and her eyes fell on a crumpled note at her feet. When she picked it up, she realized that it was sealed with a lump of gray wax, and impressed with the image of a sleeping fox.

She broke the seal. Only two words greeted her: Arboretum. Now.

Lily sat still for a moment, wondering whether she was doing the right thing. Whether it had been a mistake to trust the leader of a band of people who made a living being untrustworthy. Still, her instincts had not warned her away from him, and she desperately needed the promotion...

She shrugged off her robe and pulled on the jumpsuit quickly, tightening the leather straps as far as they would go. Her knife went into the sheath at her left calf again – hopefully, she would have no need of it today. With bow and arrows slung over her back, she slipped out the door of the ramshackle hovel as quietly as she could and made for the rooftops.


It's almost a shame, Lily thought to herself as she leveled the bow at the cowled Redguard, who was stooping to pick the blooms of a delicate creeper whose alchemical properties were strongest just after a hard rain. He stuffed more of the purple blossoms into his sidebag, careless of the way the petals would be crushed against the walls of the pouch.

Lily tensed her fingers on the arrow shaft, testing the bowstring. She herself had long been searching for a way to transport nightshade blooms without hurting them. She rather hoped Borissean would be able to teach her something before he died. She smirked and let go of the arrow. As the mage tumbled gracefully into a thick hedge, where no one would find him until the rain let up, Lily could veritably taste her promotion to Silencer.

A shame... almost.