Tarvyn Dralor: Caught in the Web Options

[Callidus Thorn]

Well, here we are, my third assault on the bastion of fanfiction

They say third time's the charm, and I really hope they're right. And if not, well at least I'm having fun writing and playing. I'm pretty sure I've avoided making the same mistakes I did with my previous attempts, so any mistakes I make this time round will be all new ones. If I'm lucky

As ever, comments, criticism, suggestions, and nitpicking are all welcome, and as before, don't feel you need to pull your punches!

Since we have a thread for character trailers, I thought "why not write one?":

Trailer

Here goes nothing...


Prologue

As the sun sets on Cyrodiil, washing the sky with its myriad gentle hues, forces gather within the Imperial City.

As the shadows deepen across the city figures swathed in hooded robes make their way to access points to the sewers. Others, clad in the same robes, conceal themselves in shadowed alleys. They have been arriving in the city for days, and will quit the city tonight, through forgotten passages beneath the streets. For months they have prepared, finding secret ways lost to memory, and tonight they will exploit them to terrifying effect. They speak as little as possible to each other, though most intone prayers in near-silent whispers as they ready themselves for what is to come. The citizenry carry on about their business as usual, blind to goings on that didn't concern them, and those few that did catch a glimpse of the figures are quietly dealt with.

The heart of the Imperial City, White Gold Tower, buzzes with activity. A score of heavily armoured men and women prepare themselves for battle, checking the buckles of their armour and the edges of their blades. They are silent and serious, grim countenances dwelling on the thought of what is to come. Word has reached them that their brothers and sisters have failed in their duties, and each of them swears anew the oaths they took when they were granted their posts. They know the weight of responsibility that falls on them, heavier than the armour they bear, but they take pride in knowing that they are trusted beyond all others with this duty. They know too the cost of failure, and that thought weighs upon them heavier still, letting fear and doubt gnaw at the edges of their minds.

The Imperial City Prison, on the other hand, is still. The only sounds to be heard are the guards drilling outside, the gentle lapping of the waves from the lake, and the whispering breeze. The prisoners are oblivious to the preparations throughout the city, though one among them has been patiently waiting for such events, not that he imagined they would be so severe. He sits calmly in his cell, on a rough stool pulled towards the far wall of his cell, leaning back against it. His arms are folded across his chest, and he rests his feet casually upon the rickety table, beside his jug of water. The feeble torch by the gate fails to light the cell fully, leaving his corner darkened, his face swathed in shadow. Only his eyes are visible, gleaming crimson in the darkness. Though his face is cloaked in darkness, robbing it of expression, the prisoner exudes an air of calm, the surety of one who knows he is exactly where he needs to be, even if he doesn't know why.



And above him, in the dark corner where walls meet ceiling, a spider sits in its web, patiently waiting for flies to blunder into it and become ensnared...

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Sep 29 2014, 02:48 PM

[Callidus Thorn]

McB: Thanks. I'm not sure Tarvyn's a hard-ass, he's a bit of an oddball really.

Grits: MY last attempt had me trying to write up everything, and it's not something I'd care to try again. Too much time writing and not enough gaming for me

Acadian: Thanks for catching those, and even more for the kind words.

HER: Glad you're enjoying it so far. Thanks for pointing out about discrete/discreet. I was thrown by discretion, that word's a nuisance.



And without further ado, part 3:

Chapter 1 Part 3

Time and again they were attacked by more of the would-be assassins, charging from the shadows in their infernal armour. And each time they were cut down by the Blades, their skill more than making up for their lack of numbers. Tarvyn hung back from the fighting, his rusted bow of little use against the attackers. The swift, fluid fighting style of the Blades left little opportunity for shooting into the melee anyway. He was more likely to hit a Blade than a foe, and while the arrow likely couldn't penetrate their armour, the distraction could prove fatal.

Even the Emperor had drawn his blade, a beautifully crafted silver shortsword that seemed to reflect more light than it should. Such was the skill of his Blades that he never had to shed blood with it, and the three made steady progress, Tarvyn stalking the shadows behind them.

But even as they advanced Tarvyn had the sense of a noose tightening around them. The Morag Tong didn't typically rely on trapping targets, but there were times it was necessary. And members had fallen victim to them in the past, so all were taught to recognise and evade them. But Tarvyn could see no way out of this one. The Blades were limited to a single path, while the assassins were able to attack from seemingly anywhere. Yet they seemed reluctant to press their advantage when they did, only a handful of them attacking at any one time. Tarvyn suspected the attacks were simply to hurry them along, rather than genuine attempts on the Emperor's life.

Nowhere did that become more clear than as they approached the entrance to the sewers, the last stage of the escape route. There they found the gate barred against them, and a metallic squeal from behind them left no doubt that they were trapped. There was only a single path open to them, leading to a single room, with no other exit. Tarvyn waited there with the Emperor while the Blades took up position before the doorway, resolving to hold out until help arrived. Or failing that, to take as many of the foe with them as possible before death claimed them.

Tarvyn stood at the entrance to the room, waiting for the subtle shifts in the darkness that revealed movement, watching the shadows out of the corners of his eyes. The attackers seemed to come from everywhere, dropping from upper levels all around the Blades. Clad in armour and wielding maces still dripping the magics that summoned them, they rushed to the attack. The Blades stood their ground, facing the mad rush with implacable resolve.

Tarvyn watched them fight, as much of it as he could make out in the gloom. Their blades flashed through swift slashes, catching what little light there was in a dazzling display of skill. But even such well trained guardians could not stand forever against the sheer weight of numbers their assailants brought to bear. Though more than a dozen lay slain at their feet, more and more rushed to join the fray, and the Blades were forced onto the defensive as the fight wore on. But still they stood their ground before the passageway, fighting back to back, their blades weaving a lethal web of razor-edged steel around them.

But for all their skill, blows still rained upon their armour, and when one lucky swing glanced off Glenroy's helm, he faltered for just a moment, missing a parry. The blow crashed into his shoulder, his armour screaming as the force of the blow tore it asunder. Glenroy roared, more from rage than pain, as the blade fell from his grip, his mauled arm no longer able to hold it. Fuelled by fury and adrenaline, his good arm shot out and gripped one of the attackers by the throat, crushing the life from him even as he was overwhelmed.

Tarvyn suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face the Emperor, and was astonished by how calm he seemed. The Emperor reached into his robes and withdrew an amulet, a vast red jewel on a golden chain, and handed it to Tarvyn. “My time is ended Tarvyn, but there is yet one who may take my place. Take my Amulet to Jauffre, tell him to find my secret son. This is why you are here Tarvyn. Deliver the Amulet, and count your debt fulfilled.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than another of the attackers burst through the wall behind him, the truth of the trap finally revealed. Unlike the others he wielded a dagger, and in a single smooth movement darted forward and plunged it into the Emperor's back. The Emperor's final breath gurgled from his throat as his eyes fixed on Tarvyn, imploring him to follow his last command. The assassin withdrew his dagger and stepped towards Tarvyn. Before Tarvyn could even begin to move Baurus was there, knocking the dagger aside before his return stroke buried his blade deep in the assassin's neck. The body collapsed, taking Baurus' blade with it as the sight of the Emperor's body robbed him of his strength.

Baurus stumbled over to the Emperor's side before his knees buckled, almost pitching him to the floor, tears of shame and grief rolling down his cheeks. “We've failed.... I've failed.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he lacked even the strength to speak. Then a thought shook him from his torpor, and he began searching the Emperor's robes, before turning to Tarvyn. “The Amulet of Kings? Where is it?”

Tarvyn showed Baurus the Amulet and told him of the Emperor's last words.

“Another son? Then there's still hope. You must follow the Emperor's orders. Jauffre is the Grandmaster of the Blades, you will find him at Weynon Priory, near Chorrol.”

“I'm new to Cyrodiil, where's Chorrol?”

“It lies north-west of the Imperial City. The exit from the sewers will put you on the east side of City Isle, the main bridge leading to the city gates is on the west side. Use that to get your bearings, and look for the road signs, it's the best way to get avoid getting lost. But at all costs, stay off the roads, they will not be safe this night, for you more than any.” Baurus reached into a pouch at his belt and handed Tarvyn a key. “This will open the door to the sewers, but before you go there is something I must tell you. You must have wondered why there were only three of us to defend the Emperor? What you have seen this night is only a fraction of what has led us here. Listen well, Tarvyn...”

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Apr 30 2014, 05:42 PM