Edward an Imperial's Story, Coward, bounder, thief, murderer...and hero? Options

[Rachel the Breton]

For many, this story is not new, but has been running for awhile on Bethesda. While most of the beginning is not going to be updated, there are points where I'm fixing the grammar/tweaking things...so, if you want to reread, or if you haven't read it yet, please do.
This is a parody, so note that I've taken some rather significant liberties with the story/world...I know some people hate that, so you've been warned.


Oh prison really, really sucks,
I should be out making big bucks
Instead I'm rotting in this stinking cell
I just hope my honoured user jailer rots in hell!
-- Edward's Lament

Chapter One

Once upon a time, in a far away land, an Imperial named Edward lived in the Imperial Dungeon of the Imperial City . Edward was an average young man, with nothing outstanding about his background, family, life, or appearance. Indeed, he was so ordinary that no one seemed to know anything about him, and he didn't remember anything about his past (at least, that was his story, and he was sticking to it). All he knew was that he was stuck in a jail cell -- and there, across from him, was another prisoner, taunting him.


Edward didn't pay much attention to what was said, but he got the gist...the guards were going to torture and kill him, as that's all that happened to prisoners here.


"Funny," Edward thought, "this guy doesn't look like he's been tortured, and, unfortunately, he's still alive, and making a damn lot of noise, too..."


Just then, the distant clinking of armor came to the prisoners' ears.


"Aha, they're coming for you!" the annoying prisoner taunted.


Edward frowned. Maybe, just maybe, he might find out why he was here. It couldn't have been those loaves of bread, swiped from the King and Queen Tavern, could it? Nah, no one saw him, he was sure. What about that beggar...what was his name?...that he'd pickpocketed as he slept in the rain outside the chapel. No, surely, they wouldn't throw a respectable young man like him in prison over a slimy beggar, would they?


He waited, musing these things silently, as the noise grew louder, and then, to his surprise, a group of guards and a very well dressed man came into view. Edward's blue eyes sparkled as he saw the rich robes.


"Those must be worth a fortune! And that amulet! I'll bet I could sell that for a lot!"


"Stand aside, prisoner!" an authoritative voice demanded. "Move to the end of the cell, and do not interfere!"


Edward hesitated, his eyes still fixed on the amulet.


"Now! Or we'll make you!" the voice commanded again.


Something in the tone caused Edward to draw his eyes away from the sparkling gem, and to the speaker.


Jumping as he did so, he quickly complied; the speaker had been a less-than-friendly, armor clad, weapon wielding warrior, surrounded by two similarly attired, similarly armed, similarly disposed warriors. Edward tripped in his haste to oblige, but pulled himself up quickly. "Why certainly, milady! Happy to be of service!" he declared.


The warrior scoffed at him, and turned to the rich man. "The passage is here, my lord. I don't know why they put a prisoner in this cell; it is always supposed to be off limits."


The rich man seemed sullen, and did not speak.


"Come with us, my emperor; time is pressing!"


"Emperor!" Edward gasped.


"Why?" the Emperor asked, his tone melancholy. "It's no use...nothing is any use anymore."


The warriors exchanged glances, and the apparent leader spoke again. "My lord, let us get you to sanctuary, where you may then contemplate the futility of existence in safety."


Edward hadn't paid much attention to this conversation, though, as he'd found his eyes returning to the amulet. "You know," he thought to himself, "I'll bet an emperor's amulet would sell for a fortune, even if that ruby is fake!" He found himself licking his lips nervously. Here, merely an arm's length away, was probably his fortune made; but his arms were shackled, and three very unsympathetic guards stood between him and retirement.


The Emperor seemed to sense Edward's eyes on him, and he turned. The old man's eyes lit up. "You!" he whispered. "I've seen you in my dreams!"


Edward grimaced. "Sorry, but I don't go that way."


The Emperor looked at him in puzzlement. "This is fate!" he said at last.


"Sorry," Edward said, stepping backwards. "Not interested." To himself, he wondered at the impertinence of this man. "And, really," he thought, "that's the worst line I've ever heard. 'I've seen you in my dreams'...please!"

"But...the fate of the world rests in your hands! The gods have chosen you to save this empire!"


Edward blinked. He liked the sound of that, but he was still suspicious about the old man's motives. "How?"


"My sons are dead...my time in this life is at an end," the Emperor said.


"Oh, I see," Edward said, his manner suddenly very engaging and excited. "And you need a good, trustworthy soul to take over the empire after you...expire? And, of course, you recognize the very virtues and character you seek in me?"


The Emperor raised an eyebrow. "No...but I might need you to deliver a message for me, if I expire before I can deliver it myself."


Edward's jaw dropped. "A message? You think my virtues and character are only worthy of being a royal messenger?!"


"Well," the Emperor answered slowly, "not really...but, if my visions are right, you'll be the only one I have left to carry the message when the time comes, so I'll have to take a chance on you."


Edward frowned deeply at the old man. Of all the insolence!


"Are you interested?" the Emperor asked.


"Sorry, Mr. Kingy, but you can take your message and stick it up your..." Edward paused, seeing the warriors suddenly moving at him. "...mailbox?" he finished meekly.


The Emperor shrugged, and started to head down a passage that had, somehow, appeared in Edward's cell wall. "Ah well, suit yourself. Of course, it would have meant that you'd get out of prison, but..."


By now, the guards and emperor had disappeared around a bend in the passage, but Edward lost no time in taking to his heels after them, calling, "Wait! Wait, I've changed my mind!"




This post has been edited by Rachel the Breton: Aug 25 2010, 01:28 AM

[Rachel the Breton]

He whose name is forgotten,
We had something to say about him,
But we're not quite sure what it was,
Because it seems we've forgotten.
-- Tribute to the Gray Fox




Chapter Twenty-Two

In the end, Edward's valet had taken both horses. It turns out that there was a city ordinance that you could not ride a horse inside the city gates. "Stupid ordinances," Edward thought. "They should make sure people know things like that!"

While Edward, now on foot, set off to find the Marie Elena, his valet set off to stable his own horse, and to return Snak gra-Bura's horse. Neither noticed the cowled figure that had observed their entire conversation, and then took off after Edward's valet.

So it was that Edward, who seemed to lack any sense of direction, headed into the city and, after much exploring, many wrong turns, and infinite retracing of his steps, eventually made his way to the water front. "Ahh," he thought, "the sea! I love the sea!" Breathing deeply -- so deeply, in fact, that he broke into a violent coughing fit -- he walked toward the docks. He smiled as he neared them.

"Pirates, cutthroats, murderers, smugglers, thieves, villains of the worst sort!" he thought admiringly. "I could have ended up working here...how in Oblivion did I end up on the other side?!" He frowned, but remembering his earlier reflections, took solace. "At least," he thought, "I'm still on the wrong side of the law, even if I am working for justice and the greater good or whatever."

With this cheering thought, he focused on finding the Marie Elena. There were two vessels docked in the harbor, and so, having no way to distinguish between them, Edward headed to the ship on his left. "Hmm," he thought as he neared it, "I wonder how you tell what a ship is named?"

At that moment, an ecstatic voice interrupted him from his reverie. "Sir! Sir!"

He turned to see his valet running toward him. Staring in frank surprise at the other man, he asked, "What's the matter with you? Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"Yes sir," the valet replied, coming to a stop and panting heavily. "But -- you'll never believe this, sir! -- but the Grey Fox himself has invited me to join the Thieves Guild!!"

Edward just blinked at first, the words making little impression. "You? The Grey Fox? Why?"

"He heard our conversation, sir, and he said that my loyalty to my friend -- you -- impressed him, and that he needs thieves with honor to join his ranks!"

Edward frowned. "Honor? But why? They're thieves!"

"Oh, yes sir, but good thieves. You see, the Grey Fox is a thief who robs from the rich to give to the poor. The beggars and the unemployed, they're all dependent on him!"

Edward's frown intensified. "What sort of criminal..." he began, but was interrupted.

"Oh, it's very simple, sir. He lives among the poor; he knows what they suffer! He's a Robber from the Hood, so to speak, who robs the rich stuffed shirts to feed the poor and downtrodden."

Edward's frown continued to intensify. "And he asked you, and not me?"

"Yes sir," the valet said, adding quickly, "but I'm sure that's only because he knew you were already busy!"

"Well," Edward shot back, "you're busy too! You work for me!"

"Yes sir," the other man said a bit hesitantly, "but, well, you don't always have need of my services!"

"Yes, but I don't employ you so that you won't be available when I do need you!"

"No sir," the valet agreed. He seemed to hesitate, and then brighten immediately, as if a flash of inspiration hit him. "But one of the perks of being a member of the thieves guild is that I get to sell stolen goods to various fences, since no one else buys them. That means that I can be your door to the fences! I can resell any goods that you come across!"

Edward stared at him, feigning shock. "What do you take me for?!" he demanded. "Do you really assume that I would stoop to robbing people, and reselling their property through you?! And, anyway, you'd probably charge an outrageous fee for the service..."

"No sir!" the valet exclaimed. "Not a penny! It would be my show of appreciation to you for allowing me to take this second job."

Edward frowned, but didn't dismiss the idea outright. After all, it would be good to have an outlet to sell his stolen property. Plus, it would be good if his valet was actually earning Septims; so far, Edward hadn't made a whole bunch of money, and he seemed to lose more than he earned, anyway -- it was hard to forget the loss of all his swindled gold after his accident with Simplicia. Not only would it be impossible to pay his valet's wages at this rate, but he might not be able to afford basic supplies with a similar stroke of bad luck. "Well," he answered slowly, "I don't want to hamper your prospects...if I was sure that you would be around when I needed you..."

"Oh, yes sir, absolutely sir!" the valet responded.

"Alright," Edward agreed. "You may as well."

In a flurry of profuse thanks, the valet disappeared. Edward sighed. "Damn Gray Fox," he thought. "How dare he ask my servant, and not me? And what is it with these criminals now, anyway?! The assassins go around killing murderers, the thieves go around feeding the poor, and the real bad guys are a disgusting, pathetic lot that no self respecting criminal would want to associate with!" He sighed again. "Criminals these days just aren't what they're cracked up to be..." he thought despondently.

This post has been edited by Rachel the Breton: Sep 11 2010, 04:20 AM