Oblivion's Edge, Book I of the Corruption Trilogy 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 since 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, etiquette, 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 One: Heritage

I walked blissfully down the streets of the Imperial City. At least so it appeared; in my mind I pondered what would happen if the rumors were true and Emperor Kristopher Traven, the descendent of an Arch Mage hunted the non-believers down and prosecuted them.

I walked out of the gates as night began to fall. My heavy armor made loud noises as I walked, but my concern was minimal. An arrow swooshed right past me. With haste, I tore my sword out of the scabbard and gripped my shield. "Show yourself, Thug," I cried out. Rage dripped in my voice.

Out of the darkness appeared a Dremora archer who hissed, "Courtesy of Lord Dagon." Another arrow launched, but this one into my shield. With a burst of bravery and the sense that the Nine were with me, I charged at him.

My blade was in his chest and he fell to his knees. The Dremora barely managed to whisper, "The anguish...I…will endure...will be beyond...imagination." Then the life left his body. Perceptively, I noticed in his knapsack he had a note. It was finely written in Daedric.

"Kynmarcher Syrtin,

Kill Sir Kalian Broodikus. If he succeeds in his goal, then the Shades of Oblivion will not succeed in breaking the seal. His ancestor was one of the best swordsman to walk Tamriel and definitely one of the most powerful mortal mages to ever live. If he inherits any of the Knight's arcane or physical ability, then we'll need all the luck on Nirn to stand a chance.

Sincerely,

Valkynaz Proditor."

I wondered who they spoke of. And Broodikus? My name is Sir Kalian Vyran. My ancestor? I came from a family of mages. To say the least, my life just got a whole lot more interesting.

When I finally opened my eyes after resting, an argonian held a short sword to my throat. "Awaken," he hissed. "We have heard of your journey, Sir Kalian Broodikus. We fought with and against your ancestor, Zalphon Broodikus. You won't stop the Crisis alone, we are here to help as we did centuries ago."

"What?" I asked as he pulled the sword back. "Who is Zalphon Broodikus? Why does everyone keep calling me Broodikus? And why is my 'ancestor' so special? The Vyran family members are mages."

"So many questions, so few time," the Argonian sighed. "Let us explain. I am Quick-Strike, this is J'skooma. Zalphon was a knight long ago who helped stop the Oblivion Crisis. After he purchased an amulet from a mysterious wizard, well he changed."

"It fed on his desire to protect, and gave him strength, clarity of mind, agility, and everything else he'd need. It also gave him a desire to conquer Mathoc with an army of undead after he became a lich," he continued. "We killed him and weren't heard from again, now to you. We were there when you were born, your mother had just died and we had to get you to safety. The Vyrans would take care of you, and they did just that."

"Why me?" I asked. "Why am I so special?"

"The Prophecy that was written about your ancestor came true," J'skooma said. "Then so did the one about cheese." The khajiit laughed, the others just stared at him.

"As my companion said," Quick-Strike grumbled. "You are in the prophecy, Kalian. We have read many prophecies, and they all come true."

"Joy," I growled.

"Two old beast-people were to help me? I wondered how much skooma they had done," I thought...

We walked for hours. Our feet ached, fatigue filled our muscles, until we saw it. A giant, red, ovular portal surrounded by black stone. The guards didn't see us, so we were able to eavesdrop. There were two Dremora, one at each side of the gate. In front of them was a mad Dremora, I'm guessing a commanding officer. "Valkynaz Proditor had me skinned for Syrtin's failure. To say the very least, it was extremely agonizing. If you see Kalian, kill him," the commanding officer barked. "We can't allow them to interfere with Zalphon's plan."

They nodded and drew their long swords. The commander entered the portal and Quick-Strike whispered, "J'skooma, will you do the honors."

The Khajiit said, "Cheese will, but I hate cheese so I'll steal the job from cheese. Ha ha, cheese is a loser." Then he muttered something and a bolt of white-hot flame emitted from his finger-tips into one of the guards, after a bolt of electricity jumped to the other.

I asked, "How did you do that?"

"Anu created us with a higher destiny than just death. J'skooma is well over one-thousand years old and has been tutored by the forgotten god, Xarxes himself and has read Oghma Infinium several times. I am five centuries old and was trained by the Dark Brotherhood long ago, I was also trained by the High Clerics of Boethia and Mephala," Quick-Strike explained. "We are not mere mortals. Our fates were written in the stars when we were born."

With a nod, I jogged over to the Gateway. I looked back and thought, "If I don't come back, I've had a good life." Then I walked in.

When I entered the portal, I was on top of a mountain. The mountain was gray and the plants were dead. Undead and Daedra walked past one another blissfully, as if they were allies. The only living plants were Nightshade, Harrada, and Bloodgrass. All the others were dead and wilting. "Zalphon and I have unfinished business," the Argonian stated as he ran down the mountain. Behind him followed J'skooma.

As I walked, I felt a sense of despair. The skeletons and the zombies caused me no harm, but held their weapons drawn. The Daedra scowled. What was this place? Death filled it. Then I walked up to a bridge made out of obsidian and asked, "May I pass?" to the Dremora-Guard.

"You can't pass, Dunmer," The Dremora snarled. "Not unless Zalphon wills it so." Instantly, the Dremora fell to the ground screaming in anguish. I passed and looked up at the sky. The ever-lasting, sickly-gray sky hung over us, giving a sense of dread. When I brought my head down, I saw it. A colossal, ebony keep loomed at us.

The two guards barked, "The Dark Lord says only his chosen may enter."

"I'm his descendent," I responded. Suddenly they kneeled and begged forgiveness. I told them that none was needed as I entered the Ebony Keep.

"Welcome," a raspy voice whispered. "Your friends destroyed the Obsidian Tower, but the Ebony Keep is stronger. Also, welcome to The Shadow of Life, Oblivion. My guards will kill you on sight, know that now. If you do survive my finest which is comprised of only Valkynaz, then I'll be truly impressed."

I whispered in response, "I'll kill you, whoever you are."

"I am Zalphon, better known as the Knight and your ancestor," he politely replied. "This is just the beginning. The Nine and the Daedric Princes will bow before me. I have already killed Peryite for his ignorance and stolen his power."

"I'll never let you control the Nine. I'll die before they bow to a lich," I screamed back.

"My lich-body is gone; I have all the benefits, but none of the ill-effects. I'm ageless, can control undead with mere thoughts, and am reborn at my phylactery should I die," he cackled. "I advise that when you do meet me that you're ready to die and be reborn as one of my soldiers."

"We shall see," I thought. "We shall see..."