Oblivion's Edge, An Elder Scrolls Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

Five hundred years after the Oblivion Crisis...

Many years ago, the Champion of Cyrodiil stopped the daedra from invading. The hordes of infernal dremora and vicious daedroth. When he left Mankar Camaron's Paradise, people viewed him as a hero. However, he had become much darker.

He then went to the Shivering Isles in search of power. When he returned, any traces of humanity had left him. In his demented rage, he slaughtered the Blades, and began a crusade of crimes. However, an Argonian assassin stopped him.

After that, the Argonian and his Khajiiti companion came to the ruins of Morrowind to regain their thoughts. For after they killed the Champion, their long-lost Dunmeri friend arrived in a new-found body of a lich. They killed him and ever sense held a deep sense of remorse.

For some time they stayed in the blackened remnants of the Dunmeri homeland, but left. The despair that filled their hearts from seeing the remains of where they met their friend caused them to leave. They were never seen again.

There is rumor in the streets of the Imperial City of a daedric cult with the power to weaken, or even destroy the seal from our world and theirs. The Champion of Cyrodiil rose up before, I must rise up now. After the Mede empire fell, a daedra-worshipper conquered Tamriel.

When I was a squire, they taught me the skills of swordplay, ettiquette, archery, and restoration. Now I guess I'll have to put my skills to the test. I must walk in his footsteps, but I must remember the teachings of the Dunmer, the Argonian, and the Khajiit.

The time is near, I must stop time from repeating itself...

[Zalphon]

Chapter Nineteen: The Shrine of Malacath

After I went to sleep that night, all I saw was Evangeline being tormented by Aurorans. Them just cackling maniacally. I tried to help her, but it was as if a spell were cast on me to keep me paralyzed. The tears rolling down her cheeks, like the Niben River.

Quick-Strike awoke me. "We must continue walking," he commanded. "It is important." Obediently, I put on my armor and we started walking towards the Shrine of Malacath. The head of the shrine was gone, so it depicted only a cracked, gray humanoid with a hammer.

I knelt, "What must I do to earn your favor, Trinimac."

"That is a name I haven't been called by in eons," the Echoing Voice laughed. "The Champion of Nirn, wow I am impressed. If you succeed in my duty, I will send one-thousand ogrim titans to assist you in the Deadlands."

"What is the test?" I asked.

"You are a Dunmer," he growled. "Defeat my Ogrim Titan with only your hands and you shall have my favor."

A giant, green, bloated ogre-like creature came from behind the shrine. I threw down my sword and punched at it. It sent ripples through the fat of the creature and I looked up. A fist came into my face. The blinding-blow left me just that, blinded and stunned. I wildly kicked and to my surprise, hit it in the groin.

"Me kill," the Ogrim Titan roared. "Me kill pointy-ears." I jabbed at its chest. I whispered a prayer to Stendarr as I punched. When I pulled back, I saw a hole through the Ogrim's chest. It grabbed where its heart should've been and fell to its knees.

"You're the strongest Dunmer I've met since the Nerevarine," Malacath said in amazement. "The ogrim titans will be waiting."

I nodded respectfully and bowed. "The nearest shrine is about a week's travel, it's Hircine's," Quick-Strike said. J'skooma and I nodded. By time we stopped, we saw the Serpent in the sky. We stopped in a forest-clearing. My mind was soon victim to sleep. Then I awoke and heard them talking.

"J'skooma, do not worry," Quick-Strike calmed his friend down. "Kalian grows stronger with each passing day. He'll needn't fear Dagon by time the Trials of the Champion are complete. I can sense his power growing."

"J'skooma can hear movement," the Khajiit warned. "Be ready." I looked around and saw a Breton in torn, black robes and dirty hair.

With haste I stood up and hugged the female Breton. "Evangeline," I exclaimed with joy."

"How did you escape?" Quick-Strike inquisitvely probed. "The Auroran Guardians are very powerful."

"I learned secrets of mysticism I never thought possible." she replied. "How long was I gone?"

"A few days," I answered. Tears streamed down my face. Tears of joy, she was back.

"Only a few days?" Evangeline asked. "It has been years, I was beaten by the Aurorans for fifteen or more years." She lit a torch and showed her face. Her hair was graying, her skin showed more signs of age, she had dark circles and bags around her eyes.

"E-E-Evangeline," I whispered. "How did they do that to you."

"Kalian," she smiled. "For fifteen years I have suffered. I am free. My bones have been shattered, my skin has been sliced open, I have lived on rats for years."

"J'skooma thinks Evangeline needs to rest," J'skooma blurted. "She looks tired."

"In a bed?" She asked enthusiastically. "Or on the soft grass. I have slept on cold-stone for over a decade, anything would be an improvement."

"The grass," Quick-Strike stated. "It's very soft."

The aged Evangeline looked to be about thirty or more years of age. The intensity of her age must have been done by the stress. Finally, she layed on the grass. I tried to say, "Good night." However, she was already asleep.

I layed next to her with a tear in my eye. They owed me a blood vendetta. They changed Evangeline from the meek girl I fell in love with, to the strong and enduring woman she is now. The love I felt for Evangeline was gone. I was no longer 'in love' with her, rather I 'loved' her, but there was a severe difference.

Sleep filled my mind again...