Sanity Options

[Zelda_Zealot]

First things first... Hi.
Now that that is over with, onto the story!

Oh yeah this has blood you dont read if you dont like.

“Sanity is but a figment of your imagination”

I was once a great hero. Known throughout Vvardenfell as the Nerevarine, I defeated Dagoth Ur and brought peace to Morrowind.
I traveled to Solstheim and defeated the Hunter and his wolves, thus stopping my own progression into madness due to Lycanthropy. I even destroyed the false-god Almalexia. Though I survived all that, there is only one thing I could not stop, my own insanity.

I do not know why I write this, maybe it is because I want the world to know that I am not a monster, perhaps it helps keep me sane.
I began to write these records after the first week of the infection, I wrote them during the day as I, unfortunately, have insomnia. An odd side effect of porphyric hemophilia that I suspect the gods had a hand in.

I leave these in the possession of my closest friend. I hope that he does what he feels necessary.

Well you like? I have more but I wont put it up untill it is finished(The chapter I mean, not the whole thing.).

P.S. This is my first FF so go easy on me.

[Zelda_Zealot]

Then I guess you will like this one!

“Insanity is in only in your mind”

Beautiful Dance

After I got to Suron my world came crashing down around me.

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My journey to Suron was uneventful, I stopped at farm houses to rest and feed. The only thing I thought of on my way there was if the guards would recognize me, after all I had slain a nobleman and two guards from their house. I got my answer soon after I got into Suron.

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I walked slowly into Suron, I was not sure if they had gotten the news of my fiasco yet. As they were from the same house as the nobleman and not too far from him, I figured it would best to move carefully. It’s a good thing I am such a good thinker, or else I might not be here anymore.

Maybe ten minuets after my arrival, I decided it was safe, and went for a nearby citizen. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, good, young blood was the best. I silently crept behind him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When he got near the east side of town I toke my chance, I grabbed him from behind and covered his mouth, then started to drag him into the alley behind me. Just before we got into the shadows, a guard came around the bend on his patrol.

Seeing me he must have realized who I was. Knowing I was discovered I knocked my meal out and put him on my shoulders.
Leaping onto the nearest roof I started to clime the small mountain to the east of Suron. After making it over the top I paid little attention to my surroundings, and hid behind a nearby rock to feed.

I heard him before anything else, a large man by the sound of it. Covered in armor but quite graceful, he came around the side of the rock. He was an Orc, wearing a full set of Orcish armor, sans the helm. I stopped feasting and looked the Orc over; he was looking right into my eyes as I looked into his. I did not see fear in those eyes, but a lust for death, he wanted to die, but no one could give it to him. He must have seen the same in my eyes, as he pulled his blade off his back.

I examined the blade as best I could with out holding it; it was a pure Ebony blade, and glowed with an ethereal purple light. He held the most beautiful blade I ever saw. I pulled my own sword off my back and saw him glance at it; he obviously thought the same about mine.

Looking into each others eyes we came to an unspoken agreement. We both wanted to die, but no one could give it to us. We knew that we weren’t fighting each other because we were enemies, but because we wanted it to end.

I went into a defensive position, as he went into an attack. I swung my blade and caught his swing to my side, then turned it into a swing of my own. Which is better? To not be hit? Or to be hit but not take much damage? He must have thought the latter. He could have blocked my swing, but he decided to take the blow, perhaps to test me. My swing hit him forcefully in the side, slicing though the Orcish armor like paper. It was not a killing blow, but one to test his armor, and draw blood.

Orcs tend to go insane with rage when cut; they go into a frenzy, slaying anything the moves. They could be counted on to be even clumsier then normal. This one was an exception, when cut he seemed to get more agile then normal. He swung at me trying to slice me across the belly. I flipped back avoiding the blow, then jumped at him attempting to cut him down the chest. The Orc brought his blade up and knocked mine aside, then hacked at my arm, managing to draw blood.

I knew that this fight would be won by agility not strength, so I started to do so many swings and slashes that I can not even begin to describe them all in my lifetime. I ended by slashing him across the torso, shredding his cuirass and cracking his ribs. Knowing he was beat he dropped his sword and got onto his knees, waiting for the final bow.

Seeing this I decided to do it quick. I spun around, and cut his head clean off his body. I spent most of the night burying his body; after my task was done I looked at the blade he left for me. Umbra was carved into its handle; I can only assume that was his name. I left my own blade as a headstone. I don’t regret it in anyway; I even carved his name into the handle.

I kneeled upon his grave and thought, I thought about my own madness, I thought about why the god did this to me, but mostly I thought about what I had to do next.

I left with the Umbra in my hands, and headed to the Ashlands, never to return.

Personaly I like this one the best. How about everyone else?