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]

Cold as the frozen tundra
Treacherous and icy indeed
Beware he who'd make a false step
Of this vengeful heart of mine.
-- Praise of Edward, written by Edward





Chapter Thirty-Three

A very huffy Edward had made the arduous journey, accompanied by his faithful retainer, to Bruma. While Edward was positively disgusted that he had to venture to a city of primitives, as he thought of Bruma, his valet was exuberant. Apparently, he had had some very good fortune thieving while Edward was meeting up with fellow assassins; so good, in fact, that the Cheydinhal castle was under redoubled security from that day forward.

Though he had mostly gotten over the stark difference between his valet's success and his failure as a thief, the other man's eagerness, and the clear reason for it, still served to aggravate him.

Furthermore, being a midlander, Edward was unaccustomed to the frigid temperatures of the Jerall mountains; and, being a snob, he had never ventured to the "barbarous northern regions", so was completely unprepared for the frigidity that awaited him. His valet, thankfully, had prepared ahead, and brought several cloaks and blankets, all of which he surrendered to Edward. Regardless, Edward's teeth still chattered nonstop throughout the journey, and he shook at times so hard that he almost fell off his horse. Finally, when the gates of Bruma came into sight, he was so relieved at the prospect of a warm bed and a lit fireplace that he almost forgot his revulsion at the thought of sojourning amongst such barbarians.

Surrendering their horses outside the gates of the city, Edward and his valet headed inside. Edward was nearly frozen stiff by time they reached the Jerall View Inn. "This is a very nice place, sir," his valet told him. "It's a little bit more expensive than Olav's Tap and Tack, but the beds are much nicer and it's much warmer."

Edward nodded his head, which just caused his teeth to chatter more. He stood aside as his valet took care of the business -- in actuality, he abandoned the other man and ran as fast as his shaking legs would take him to the lit fireplace -- and then, very reluctantly, headed toward his room as the valet returned.

"Well sir," the valet said, "the good news is that we've got a very nice room with a beautiful fire."

Edward nodded, barely aware of the man's words as he was led to the room.

The valet opened the door, stood aside to let Edward in, and then followed. "The bad news," he continued, "is that there were no other rooms available in the inn."

Edward managed to rouse himself from his stupor of cold, and glance up at his servant. "So?" he asked, teeth chattering. "You said there was another inn in town. You can go there."

"Well sir," the valet said, "actually, there are no rooms available at Olav's Tap and Tack, either."

Edward frowned at him. "How do you know?"

"Because, sir...the guy in front of me was grumbling about paying more for his room here, and saying that there were no rooms available anywhere because of the mage's conference here in town. And then the proprietor said that this was his last room, too."

Edward's frown deepened. "Well, surely..." he protested, looking about. Even if he would endure the indignity of sharing a room with his servant, he certainly would not endure the humiliation of sharing the same bed -- even if it was a large double bed, like this one. "I suppose you could always sleep outside somewhere..." he mused aloud. "There's got to be some shelter somewhere, where it's mostly out of the wind or something...I mean, I suppose they have homeless people and beggars here, and that must be what they do..."

His valet cleared his throat significantly. "Well, sir, not to put too fine a point on it, but...the room is rented in my name, and I paid for it myself."

Edward stared at him blankly, still shivering as he stood by the fireplace. "Yes?" he asked.

"Well, sir, I think I will be sleeping inside tonight. I would be glad to share my room with you, if you like -- after all, I would hate to see you out there looking for shelter, particularly when it doesn't sound like there's any to be had in Bruma this evening."

Edward stared at him with a mixture of exhaustion-induced apathy and pride-induced anger. "Of all the insolence!" he managed to say at length.

The valet nodded. "Thank you, sir."