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]

Thanks for the comments all!

@mALX: Thanks...I love that chapter too...I remember wondering how I was going to kill Tussaud off...and it seemed such a fitting way for Edward to do it, and just in line with his glorious career of killing-by-stupidity.

@treydog: re: anti-charisma...LOL. Good observation. As for the Nirnroot...as someone who accidentally "sampled" more than a few harmful ingredients when I started playing, I just * had * to have Edward do that.

@sford: Thanks...I almost killed myself with laughter while writing that...glad to see others enjoyed it too.

@haute ecole reader: LOL. re: Tussaud's fate...I hope not! Although it's almost been my fate, too, once or twice, dreaming up wacky things for Edward to do.


@All...just to let you know, I may not be posting much more this week...I have training for the babies (the pups...lol...getting Care Bear ready for her first obedience trial...fingers crossed!) tomorrow, a department-wide potluck at work the next day that I just know I'm going to get roped into helping with, and then I'm on call this weekend as we move a bunch of servers...and that while relatives are coming over (although, depending on who shows up, getting called into work on the weekend won't be such a bad thing. But you didn't hear that from me ) ... so...if I'm not around for awhile, it's probably one of those things...or catching my breath in between, lol.



Their busy days and a hundred ways,
Watch the world continue on its course
Though the promise looms of darker days
But, oh, things will get so much worse...
-- Mehrunes Dagon, contemplating the future

Chapter Thirty-One

Edward had sulked for the rest of the day, refusing to acknowledge his valet's existence. He had tried to convince himself that his servant had cheated him, but, this failing, he had determined to simply ignore the man. When the valet tactfully absented himself, rather than feeling relieved, Edward felt even angrier. Not only had the man most unfairly outdone him, but now he removed himself so as to avoid the well-deserved wrath he should be showered in.

When Edward at last settled in to sleep, he found that sleep eluded him. He was angry, sulky and unsure of how to avenge himself on his servant -- and the latter tormented his mind for many hours. At last, however, he settled on a plan.

He rose early the next morning, paid his tab, packed his bags without waking his valet, and exited the inn. For a minute, he considered stealing his servant's horse, but decided against it; not that he would have objected to robbing the valet, to be sure, but he couldn't stand the idea of depending on anything belonging to "that man".

Therefore, bright and early, Edward set out on his own, heading for Cheydinhal. After all, he had successfully completed his assignment, and he had a payment to collect. "I have my own stuff to do," he thought, "and I've already wasted enough time pandering to the needs of that ridiculous servant of mine...ex-servant!"

With a grim smile, he decided that his disappearance would be the best possible punishment for the wayward valet. "And," he couldn't help admitting to himself with a sense of guilty pleasure, "he'll never see a penny's worth of pay from me!" Although this tended to tarnish the otherwise stainless revenge he'd planned, his practical side won out over the idealistic side; which is to say that his quest for pure vengeance, at least as he defined it, was second to his miserliness.

The beauty of the cruel deprivation of his company waned, however, as he trudged along his way. The morning was warm, and promised to grow hotter, and he was not terribly fond of exercise as it was, much less so such a long trudge as he was now embarked on. Huffing, puffing, sighing, sweating and feeling terribly sorry for himself, Edward walked in solitude for two hours. It was then that he heard the sounds of rapid hoofbeats on the road behind him. His first instinct was to pull off the road immediately. "But then," he thought despairingly, "perhaps I would be better to stay here...to end it all by being dashed to pieces under a horse's hooves, rather than continue in this futile, painful, degrading existence." The mental image, however, of actually being dashed to pieces under a horse's hooves quickly decided him, and he hurried off the path to wait for the rider to pass.

As the hooves neared, he divined that there were two horses at least. "Too much noise for one," he thought.

Sure enough, in a few moments, two horses appeared over the hilltop. Edward started. There were two horses, but only one rider -- and that rider was his valet!

The other man reined his horse to a halt near Edward. "Sir!" he exclaimed, dismounting. "I figured you had started on your way."

Edward felt elated that he was no longer alone, particularly when he saw that the other man had brought an extra horse. But his pride refused to acknowledge the sentiment, so, instead, he glared at the valet. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you, sir."

Edward's glare turned to a frown. He couldn't understand this...in all truth, he had been rude and discourteous -- and, to top it off, remiss in actually paying the man's wages. Why, in the name of heaven, would he follow him here? "Why?" he asked at last.

"Well, it's my job sir!" the valet answered, in a tone that seemed to indicate that the answer was self-evident.

Edward's frown deepened. "Well, how did you get another horse?" he asked and last. "And what for?"

"For you, of course, sir," the valet replied. "And I bought it."

Edward stared at the other man, attempting to ascertain if he was sincere. Seeing that he was, he then wondered if his servant was mad. Not only did he put up with his master's temperamental, even -- though he was loath to admit it -- absurd, antics, and all without pay, but now he was spending his own money to buy a horse for said annoying master?

"Well, come on, sir," the valet said. "Aren't you going to mount? It's much faster riding to Cheydinal than walking."

Edward shook his head, not quite sure of what to say, but took the reins from his valet's outstretched hand. The man was mad, he concluded, but at least he was loyal. Plus, though he hated to admit it, he seemed to be a pretty good thief, which just might come in handy some day.