Redemption, part 2 Options

[jack cloudy]

Click here for Redemption Part 1


Alright, part 2. Still not much redeeming going on but whatever. Now instead of continuing the story, I figured I'd use this post for all the miscellaneous stuff. Things like a character list and the recap for part 1. So be warned that this post CONTAINS SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!


RECAP FOR PART 1 Again SPOILERS!

One night, the palace is breached by unknown assailants. Following standard protocol for such events, the Emperor is secretly transported to the prison by his Blades. The Imperial Battlemage, Ocato, declines to join him, claiming that the situation is under control and that his services aren't needed.

Despite having reached the prison safely, the Emperor soon finds that he is still in danger. It is then that Uriel receives help from an unexpected ally. Angoril Bobardi reveals that the very cell he has inhabited for decades, contains a secret escape route that was built during the simulacrum at the order of Jagar Tharn. With this passage and the considerable magical prowess of Angoril, the Emperor manages to flee the deadly trap.

Also freed from the prison by Angoril is Maorlatta Orgnum, a young (by elf-standards) and somewhat naive girl who was arrested for the crime of sleeping in the park. Once free, she quickly makes herself scarce and eventually finds herself in the shack of an old fisherman who lives on an island in Lake Rumare. The fisherman seeks the help of the thieves guild to rid her of the manacles and prison outfit that would have every Legionnaire arrest her on sight. Unfortunately, the one assigned to pick the locks on the manacles informs Vicente Valtieri instead, who takes a personal interest in the girl’s talent for camouflage. Maorlatta is saved by the Redguard Sorian, a young and rather strange lad who keeps going on and on about something he calls an Ansei. The two team up to go treasure hunting in a nearby Ayleid ruin.

Meanwhile, Angoril returns to the prison. Pretending to be from the palace, he gets a vital clue from the Argonian private investigator Grey-Tongue. The Argonian sends him to Chorrol to find the source of the assassins distinctive red robes. To get to Chorrol, he summons a shiftgate, circumventing days travelling. From Chorrol the trail leads to Kvatch, a city whose precise location he does not know. Unable to summon another shiftgate with reasonable accuracy, Angoril seeks more mundane passage to Kvatch.

While Angoril is travelling, Maorlatta and Sorian hit the Ayleid ruin. After some trouble with a zombie, they strike gold and find an abandoned office with some intact artefacts. They attempt to sell the artefacts in the Imperial city, where they are intercepted by Grey-Tongue and then Vicente Valtieri. Sorian again makes the vampire flee. The next morning Maorlatta wakes up in the Imperial palace with no recollection on how she got there or what happened during her stay at Grey-Tongue’s house. Jauffre interrogates her in the garden at the top of the tower.







Redemption's persons of questionable importance

Main characters:
Angoril Bobardi: An Altmeri sorcerer who inhabited a cell in the Imperial prison, fully aware of the secret escape route. After leaving the prison, he makes it his task to track down the leaders behind the red-robed assassins.

Maorlatta Orgnum: A Maormer from Pyandonea, sent to Tamriel at the command of king Orgnum. Circumstances land her in the same prison as the Altmer. After escaping, she returns to the pursuit of her own goals, one of which is to become filthy rich.

Side characters:
Grey-Tongue: An Argonian private investigator. He is a friend of Hieronymous Lex and has been hired by the guard-captain in the past. Grey-Tongue is hired now as well by the city-guard to investigate the events at the prison and find Uriel’s corpse.
Guard-Captain Hieronymous Lex: Hieronymous Lex is the man put in charge of investigating the massacre at the Imperial Prison. Upon finding that Uriel Septim was seen entering the prison that night, he hires Grey-Tongue to help him uncover the truth.
Sorian: A Redguard who saves Maorlatta from Vicente Valtieri. A simple wandering swordsman with a slight Ansei-obsession.
Rajn Geydar: A Wood Elf who lives in Kvatch. At one point possessed a piece of the Balac-Thurm.

Others:
Guard-Captain Argelius: A colleague of Hieronymous Lex who describes him as the man to call when you need subtlety.
Bannon: A merchant who travelled with Angoril from Chorrol to Kvatch
Baleni: Daughter of Rajn Geydar
Doruk: The Bouncer who worked at Rajn Geydar's restaurant. Deceased.
Penald Baurus: Blade and bodyguard of Uriel Septim.
Berius: Lord Protector and Head of the palaceguard in the Imperial City.
Valen Dreth: A Dunmeri prisoner. Not the most pleasant sort.
Jennifer Renault: Blade, recently promoted to captain.
Glenroy: Blade and bodyguard of Uriel Septim.

Fenasim: A member of the emperor's Palace guard.
Mankar Camoran: The father of both Raven and Ruma. He is the leader of the Mythic Dawn and its prophet.
Raven Camoran: The ‘Hand’ of the Mythic Dawn, an organization with an unknown purpose. What is certain however, is that the Dawn wants Uriel Septim dead.
Ruma Camoran: The sister of Raven, she serves the Mythic Dawn as Priestess. In the same night that the attempt on the emperor’s life is made, she infiltrates the vaults beneath the Imperial palace to steal two artefacts.
Harrow: A member of the Dawn, Harrow used to be an Armiger stationed in Vvardenfell.

Ludius Bester: Member of Bester and Bester, the Kvatch Hall of Mercantile Interests. He runs the office in lower Kvatch.
Aelwin Merowald: An old fisherman who lost most of his leg to Slaughterfish. Friend of Delmar Tunius.
Rajn Geydar: Owner of the Eight Provinces, a restaurant in Kvatch.
Ra’Jezhr: A Khajiiti lockpicker in the employ of the Thieves Guild, Ra’Jezhr is also coerced into serving the Dark Brotherhood’s interests.
Simanuel Rosendorf IV: The owner of a silk-plantation near Chorrol

Umbacano: An Altmer who lives in the capital city. A well-known collector of Ayleid artefacts.
Uriel Septim VII: The Emperor of Tamriel.
Brother Tanner: A priest who serves in the Kvatch-temple. Looks like a Septim.
Delmar Tunius: An old fisherman who lives on a small island in lake Nibenay.
Vicente Valtieri: A member of the Dark Brotherhood, he takes interest in Maorlatta’s talents at stealth, and desires to make her an assassin, with or without her cooperation.

Latta’s evergrowing list of people only she knows:
Levvelyn of Glashorn: The hero of a popular series who spends most of his books saving the world, slaying vicious monsters, duelling devious Altmeri warlords and chasing the girl.
Irrillys: A fictional princess of Pyandonea, she is Levvelyn’s love interest. Posesses an unfortunate talent for being kidnapped by devious Altmeri warlords.
Mettildi: The Maormer that taught Maorlatta how to fight, though his methods traumatized her to the point where she is mentally incapable of defending herself.
Master Zelthir: Another Maormer put in charge of educating Maorlatta. Master Zelthir is a well-known and highly respected healer.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Sep 22 2013, 07:36 PM

[jack cloudy]

I'm not using a direct passage, but there will be a reason for why he goes to the prison instead of any of the two dozen safehouses the Blades keep in the IC. Or ya know, the Legion barracks.




Chapter 8.2


Through came one of the guards, all the wards rolling off his armour like water. He didn’t stop at the door or utter a single word regarding his reason for entry. He kept moving on a straight line for Uriel, red-tainted sword drawn and raised. Berius noted for himself that this was not the script he had prepared for the exercise, nor were the young Blades here to see it. Then all thought ceased and instinct took control. Honed by many years of service and more than one confrontation with a would-be assassin, it made him throw the glass in his hand at the running man. He did not expect an empty snifter to injure the intruder, even when aimed straight at the eyeslits of his helmet. But it made the palaceguard duck and slow for just half a step. In that half a step Berius began his own sprint to intercept the man before he could reach the Emperor.
Berius’ instinct held no illusions regarding his odds against a member of the palace-guard in full armour. The other man was younger, stronger, far better equipped and just as skilled. Berius had no sword, no armour, only the slimmest sliver of magicka in his veins and most importantly, a person to protect. No, a protracted engagement would only end badly for him and his charge. He knew he had to strike fast and decisively.

There was but one advantage he possessed. If the other was a traitor, then he was as aware of the situation as Berius himself was. Though constantly drilled not to, overconfidence would cloud his judgement. If the man was merely disguised as a palace-guard, then he would be even more ready to underestimate an older man whose muscles were making way for fat.
The two men crashed together at the center of the room like mountains. Ducking inside, Berius managed to avoid injury from the first swordswing by making the assassin’s arm hit him, rather than the weapon it wielded. He hooked a foot around an ankle where the other couldn’t see and used the residual momentum to throw the man to the ground.

On the floor they fought, both trying to gain even the slightest advantage. Berius worked his fists across the sides and joints, seeking nonexistent openings in the armour. If he’d had the stamina for it, he would have cursed how even the chain underlayer was guarded with a shielding spell. The blade’s blunt edge struck him across the back repeatedly, Failing to cut the vest but sending a lance of pain up his spine with each blow. Berius changed tactics and pinned the swordarm with a knee. Now the two men were at a temporary impasse and stared each other in the eyes. Suddenly the guard threw out his free hand which burned with a hungry flame and Berius reared back. Too late.



Berius threw himself forward, smashing his head against the helmet and then, with his foe momentarily disorientated, he struck the fatal blow. His hand thrust through the narrow gap exposing the traitor’s eyes. Then he called upon all the magicka he could muster, manifesting it as a torrent of lightning. It wouldn’t draw the envy of even the least proficient apprentice but it was enough. Passed the protective wards permeating the helmet and sunken into vulnerable tissue, the electricity pouring from his fingers burned out the man’s brain almost instantly.
Too tired to speak, Berius crawled off the corpse. The armour began to shudder and the old man forced himself back into a combative stance. Surely the other could not have survived his spell? Steel shrieked, bolts flung themselves across the room, richochetting off the walls and shattering an expensive vase. The chestpiece split in two as the body occupying it began to change. Muscles coiled like living snakes, bones creaked and twisted. A fur, not of hair but of bronzed barbs, burst from the skin. The face, recognizable for a single second as it burst through the helmet, distorted. Distorted into a terrifying maw filled with fleshtearing teeth. It began to sizzle and smoke, then burst into flames.

Berius shook his head, stunned by the sight. He knew that face, both of them.
“Wulfharth, you….By Talos I thought we got all of you bastards. What’s next, Tharn walks in and apologizes for not going to our meetings in the last thirty years?” He growled to himself and a chilling realization came upon him. If one guard had been a monster in disguise, then how many others were there? Did he even have a palaceguard, or were they all inhuman beasts? The thought drove the rising fear back beneath the surface.
“No time to complain about fate. I’ve got to get ready for the next one. No goblin raids alone.” He told himself and carefully edged towards the burning corpse to pick up the katana with his right hand. Exposed bone glistened where the flesh had been stripped away from his fingers. With a mental shrug, he picked up the glass sword with his left hand.



“What was it?” The elderly man behind him asked. Adrenaline at the sudden threat had expediated his awakening. He now stood before his chair leaning heavily on his walking stick. Uriel’s favourite carpet burned away before his feet and a vile smog destroyed the painting on the ceiling but he paid it no heed. His eyes, untouched by fear, were fixated solely on the door as he repeated his question.
“That was a simulacrum. We’d better get out of sight of the door.” Berius sighed, his own eyes also watching the door. It had not rose back up on its own as it should.
The attack had not unnerved Uriel Septim, not even when the assassin burst out of the armour and burned away. But the mention of a single word was enough to make him tremble and speak a prayer.
“Simulacrum? As in the Imperial Simulacrum?” He whispered, referring to that infamous period when, betrayed by his most trusted advisor, he had been imprisoned in another realm and the throne taken by a copy. He held no memories of the event, as he had more then once sworn. But there were the dreams, always haunting him in the night since that day.

Berius gently led him to the cover of a few potted trees before he answered.
“Yes, and no. If that had been Tharn, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. But that thing was one of his tools. Replaced most of the palaceguard with its ilk during the nineties when you were…you know. Course, there wasn’t a palaceguard left by the time we rescued you.” He shook his head at the end. To this day he still wondered if some of the men he killed that day had simply been unaware of the truth and tried to protect the palace from what they believed to be an out of control riot. But it had been necessary.
“It seems to me that you missed some.” Uriel pointed out. He kept his voice low as not to draw attention from anyone who might come investigate the opened door, or the dead man he suspected to lie just outside. Again Berius shook his head.

“Could be, but I doubt it. I remember asking the wood elf and she said we got them all. I’m inclined to believe her on that one. Only some general staff were spared and they were reassigned to less essential positions as a precaution. No, this wasn’t a survivor of that day. But Tharn could have deployed simulacra all across Tamriel without us knowing. Wulfharth, or the monster that took his form, must have been one of them.” He said. With the adrenaline of the fight fading, he became aware of his injuries. The harsh burning of his hand, the stiff ache of his bruised back. It wasn’t anything fatal or debilitating, but he definitely would need medical attention if he survived the night. For now, a simple spell to stop the bleeding would have to suffice.


“Didn’t Jauffre install a system to ferret out any infiltrants?” The emperor asked him after a short period of silence. From time to time the tower still trembled, but the cause of those vibrations seemed to go further and further away. Neither man knew what was going on, but both were convinced it could be nothing good.
“If Wulfharth had been replaced recently, we would know. You can claim the flesh, but you can’t just walk the walk and talk the talk. No, I think Wulfharth was already a simulacrum by the time he first entered our sights.” Berius replied and Uriel finished the thought.
“In other words, the simulacrum played the long game. Join the legion, show valor and prowess in battle. Become a Blade, show some more, be appointed here. It would take patience, skill and display of all the desired morals and values both in public and private.”

Uriel sighed. It was regrettable, but he had to admit that Wulfharth had been very thorough in eluding all the loyalty investigations that one received in a Legion and Blade career. It was even more regrettable that the tremors suggested he was not working alone.
“To the matter at hand, Berius. What do we do now?” He asked then and received a grim answer of his bodyguard.
“Now? Now we wait for the only ones we can still trust. The recruits. Pray they’re good, because if simulacra are involved, this will be far more dangerous than any test I could have come up with.”





OOC: Ok, maybe he switched a bit too fast from 'Hey dude, what's up?' to 'Kill Rage Murder". Meh, instinctive handwaves. Also, how come it's always two and a half pages in word but such a short piece of text on the forum?

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Feb 24 2013, 03:20 PM