Blood of the Kyn, Volume II Options

[Dantrag]

Click for Volume I

The start of Volume II; where stuff actually starts to happen. Enjoy.

Chapter 1 - Tensions

I am lost. Azyrek recited the words in his mind as he stood in the center of the Plaza Brindisi Dorom, in front of a beautifully sculpted pair of statues. He looked around one time to make sure there were no prying eyes.

His lips finally moved to form the words, and he felt a slight rumble beneath his feet. He heard rock grinding rock and looked down to see one slowly descending. It was large enough to stand on, so he did. The dremora slowly fell into darkness on a magickally suspended stone.

Azyrek could see nothing in the darkness, but he could tell that he had reached the bottom of whatever pit the Brotherhood had sent him to.

"We've been expecting you, Brother," he heard, just before a torch was lit, "Welcome to Bamz-Amschend. Cemented over when the Plaza was repaired, but the Dark Brotherhood laid claim."

Azyrek could tell from the accent that his 'brother' was a native dunmer, though his face was masked.

"Thank you, Brother."

"I will show you to your room soon. First, you must follow me."

Azyrek followed the mer, and in the torchlight could see that they were in an old, old place. He had never seen any ruins such as these before. Judging by the machinery, they had to be from the dwemer. A stark contrast to the old Ayleid fortresses he would see in Cyrodiil. They went further down and eventually into a tunnel. The metal and stonework disappeared, making it obvious that it had been dug long since the dwemer walked the halls.

They came to a door, and the other assassin stood by it.

"The Speaker awaits you, Azyrek."

Azyrek opened the door to find a surprisingly homey room. The floors were wooden, though the walls were those of a natural cavern. There was a bed in the back corner, and to his left was a crackling fireplace. Arranged in a semicircle in front of it sat a sofa and chairs. On the sofa was another dunmer, who sat with his hands in front, hidden under the folds of his black robe. Much like Azyrek often did, he had a hood pulled low over his face.

"Greetings, Murderer. Vicente send word of your success and promotion. It seems Sithis and the Night Mother favor you."

Azyrek gave a slight bow. Noting that this dunmer was not native. It sounded like a dark elf from home would.

"I know you're weary from travel, so I will be brief. You are never to enter this Sanctuary again. The name of your first target is Temis Alam. He goes by the name Ras here, performing magick in the Bazaar. He is Morag Tong and I want him dead.

"Once he is dead, we will contact you. We have arranged for you a place to hide and begin your destiny."

"So...I have to leave now?"

"No, stay the night, and prepare tomorrow. You will leave us when night falls. Farewell, Murderer. The Night Mother expects great things of you."

Azyrek took his cue, said his goodbyes, and left the room. The dunmer was still outside the door with the torch. They walked further into the tunnels, and Azyrek was shown his room. It was nothing but a bed and a table with a jug of water, but it was all he needed. Too tired to think, he laid down and went to sleep.

This post has been edited by Dantrag: May 19 2010, 07:02 PM

[Dantrag]

I know there's a couple right in a row. You guys can handle it, I think.

Chapter 1 - Tensions (continued)

He rose from the sewers unseen, and crept around the Bazaar. There were still guards patrolling, so he was forced to stick to the shadows. His eyes darted back and forth as he moved, committing to mind all the tiny details of this new place, while being wary of other watchful eyes. He didn't yet know where to find his target, but in the meantime, he would know his surroundings like the back of his own gray hand.

It wasn't long before he moved to the next district, the Plaza. He had already been here, and there was little else but the gardens and statue. He moved on to Godsreach, and was surprised to see a bit of activity. Unlike the other districts, which had gone silent, Azyrek found that staying unseen here was more difficult. People filtered in and out of one building constantly. The people leaving were mostly staggering.

A tavern, no doubt.

On closer inspection, he found that he was right. The sign read The Winged Guar, and he could hear the reverberations of raucous voices and merry music emanating from inside. He knew that it was dangerous to show himself, especially so soon, but he could usually go unnoticed in a tavern. Against his better judgement, he found himself walking to the door.

He entered with no incident, and found himself a secluded table in a dimly lit corner. A lot could be learned simply from listening, and the drinks created many loosened tongues.

"Hey there," a seedy-looking dunmer approached him.

"Hi," Azyrek said in a way that expressed his lack of desire for company.

"Looking to play a game of shells?"

The dunmer obviously missed the hint.

"No."

"How about if we play for a drink, eh? You win, I buy you one. I win, you buy me one."

Azyrek sighed, "Fine. I'll play a game."

The dunmer smiled, laying out three shells onto the table, "I'm going to put this coin under one of these shells, like so."

"I know how to play. You move the shells around, and I have to keep track of the one with the coin under it."

"A veteran, eh? Let's hope I get to drink a little tonight!"

Azyrek sighed again. The mer's behavior was already irritating.

"Ready to play then?"

Azyrek nodded while sighing for a third time.

The dunmer placed the middle shell over the coin and began moving all three. Azyrek watched closely, and grinned when the dunmer slyly dumped the coin off the edge of the table into a waiting hand. It was all very quick, but the halfblood was used to looking for subtleties.

"Which shell then?" the dunmer's grin was almost as big as Azyrek's.

"The left."

The dunmer lifted the shell to reveal nothing. "Oh, too bad. Looks like you owe me a drink."

"Hmm. Give me one more try. Double or nothing."

The dunmer grinned, "Deal."

The shells were reset, and Azyrek watched him perform the same trick.

"Which one is it then, sera?"

Azyrek leaned in closer, stroking his chin, "Which one, indeed."

"Well?"

"Tell me, do you know any spells?"

The dunmer gave a confused expression, "Besides summoning an ancestor ghost? No."

"Really? I thought you might be the type. Spells are very tricky, you know. A good mage has to make the most precise hand and finger movements, sometimes while having to speak the correct incantation at the same time. It takes a lot of time to practice magicka effectively."

"That's all very fascinating, sir, but I think you're stalling. Which shell is it?"

"That one," he answered, tapping the mer's hand that rested on the table.

"Very funny, but we both know it isn't a shell."

"Exactly."

They stared at each other for a moment, but Azyrek won the contest. The dunmer knew he was caught.

"Listen, all I need is a little bit of information, and I'll keep quiet about your scam."

"What kind of information?"

"I'm looking for the mage that performs in the Bazaar. Ras is his name. I'm an aspiring mage, you see, and he has some rather unique spells I would like to learn more about."

The dunmer gave him a strange look, "He performs every day at noon since he arrived this week. Anyone could tell you that."

Covering his slight mistake, Azyrek pressed on for more knowledge, "You think I don't know that? I want to know where he stays! I've tried to catch him after a performance, but he's much too busy to speak with every onlooker. Please, I've hit a wall in my studies, and his spells are just what I need to reach the next level."

"I've got no idea. You might ask his woman, though. She's come in here before. If you've seen the show, you'll know what she looks like. She's his assistant."

"Well if you see her, tell her I'd like to meet her here at midnight three days from today," he slid five coins the dunmer's way, "I'm giving you this in good faith, and as long as you help me, I'll keep your secret."

The dunmer nodded, "I'll do my best, but there's no guarantee that she'll be back."

"I hope she does, for your sake. I don't know many people who like to gamble on rigged games."

"Listen, I have to talk to some real customers, but I'll keep an eye out for her, okay?"

"That's all I ask."

The dunmer left, muttering about blackmailing s'wits, and Azyrek reveled in his progress for a moment before returning to his hideout.

This post has been edited by Dantrag: Mar 19 2010, 09:16 AM