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]

Thanks guys.

Well, it's not dead, but this part's been putting up as much of a fight as Captain Matius It's been through three complete rewrites, including two changes of character perspective, but it was a part I felt that I had to write, so here it is:

Kvatch, the tenth day after the Fall

Baurus stood behind the barricades, casting a wary eye over the portal. It had been a quiet night for once, only a handful of daedra had emerged from the portal, and Captain Matius' guards had used their bows to good effect. The Blades sharing guard duty with them hadn't even needed to draw their katanas. He sighed and rolled his head, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. It had been three days since he and his Blades had arrived, and he'd been awake for most of that. Matius and his men had been relieved, and had spent two days recovering from their ordeal, at least in part. They'd gotten some sleep, but injuries were still a problem. Only one healer, an Imperial woman named Luniala Horatius, had survived the Fall. She had been so overworked in the days since that she spent much of her time sleeping, and ate better than anyone else at Kvatch, in an attempt to recover her strength.

“It's Menien, right?”

Menien jumped, having been so intent on the portal that he'd not noticed Baurus' approach. “Yes Captain, Menien Goneld.”

“Call me Baurus. You were in the Legion weren't you, just like your Captain?”

Menien nodded proudly. “That I was. Twenty years, and fifteen more in the guard. Served the Empire nearly my entire life.”

“I was in the Legion myself, before I was recruited into the Blades. There are times I miss it, even now.”

Menien grinned wryly. “But not mealtimes, I'm guessing.”

For the first time since Baurus had come to Kvatch, he smiled. “Heh, we did eat better, but they made us train twice as hard for it. We like to joke that the only reason the Blades are so loyal is that we're all too tired to disobey orders.”

Menien's smile flickered wider for a moment, then fell from his face.“Well then Captain Baurus, now that we've bonded, why don't you tell me what you want?”

“I need to know what happened the night Kvatch fell. I need to know what could be waiting for us inside the city.”

“Then you should talk to Captain Matius.”

“You know as well as I that he isn't ready to talk about it, not while Kvatch still burns. And not for a long time after that, if I'm any judge. You don't carry the same burden that he does Menien, that's why I'm asking you. Because I need to ask, and you know that. Call it an order, if that makes it any easier.”

Menien crumpled. His shoulders slumped, his hand slid from the pommel of his sword, and his chin sunk almost until it touched his chest, and he said nothing for long moments. Baurus felt his gorge rising at the sight of Menien's duress, half expecting the man's knees to buckle. He didn't want to do this, but knew that he'd have to do worse before things got any better. And if the memory of the daedra could defeat the surviving Kvatch guard, better to learn that before they try to retake the city. When Menien spoke, his voice was harsh, his every word forced past the city-sized lump in his throat.

“We assembled at the gate. We had maybe a hundred with bows on the wall, and half as many again in the plaza in front of the gates, expecting the daedra to break their way through. But they retreated through their portal, and smaller ones opened across the city. Captain Matius had a hard choice to make: Flee the city, hold the gate for as long as possible in the hope that the citizens could reach it, or send us into the streets to save those we could. He chose the third. A third of us stayed to guard the gate and hold the plaza, supported by the archers on the wall. The rest of were sent into the streets in groups of half a dozen, with orders to grab any civilians we found and escort as many as possible to the gates.

The streets were a nightmare. There was screaming everywhere, cruel laughter, and the sickening sounds of weapons striking flesh, the air thick with the smell of smoke and blood. The gates had barely been opened, but a horde of daedra had flooded the city. People were racing to the gate, some chased by daedra. Those we left, to focus on people who were trying to hide, who wouldn't last long after we were forced out. We all knew that was how the night would end. My team didn't get far from the plaza before we came across a half dozen people huddled in a bookshop, closed since the owner's death. I considered sending them alone to the gate, since it was only a couple of streets away, but each one of them had a child with them. I knew for a fact that half of them didn't have kids, and were saving someone else's. I got them on their feet and moving for the gate, my team taking up positions around them.

We'd barely gotten moving before we were attacked. Some monstrous lizard-thing, taller and broader than an Orc, smashed it's way through a wall. It grabbed Ladeiaia Palenix, a woman I'd known for fifteen years, and introduced to her husband, in one massive claw and clamped its jaws around her head. It happened so fast, we couldn't have helped her. She didn't even have time to scream. There was no way we could fight something like that, and we weren't supposed to try. The civilians ran for their lives, their screams lost amidst the desperate chorus that was Kvatch. We did our best to keep up, but they were fleeing in terror, and weren't burdened by armour. They were lucky.

Before we'd gotten halfway to the plaza, a group of smaller lizard things, all teeth and claws and scales, fast as lightning but smaller than the thing that killed Ladeiaia, caught up to us. My wife's brother, Tyroni Scerius, slashed at the neck of one of them, killing it. But there was some foul magic in the creature, and the mail on his arm burst open as the bones in his sword arm shattered, blood dripping everywhere. I had to half carry him back to the plaza. The rest didn't make it. They fought to buy us time. Jayred the Unwavering, Millona Lannus, and Kelvyn Rackham. I'll never forget those names.

By the time Tryoni and I reached the plaza, we were horrified. The daedra had organised. Some of those Dremora had gathered some of the daedra into a firing line, hammering the archers with volleys of fireballs, lightning bolts, and glowing orbs of cold. Half of the archers were already dead, and the battle on the ground was going even worse. It looked like of those of us sent into the streets only a handful had returned, and most of them were wounded. Something screeched horribly behind us, and Tyroni and I raced for the gates. He was in no state to fight. I almost followed him, but as I glanced back for one last look I saw Captain Matius.

He stood alone, fighting against a trio of Dremora, and more were coming. I shoved Tyroni through the gates, then ran back towards the Captain. And I wasn't alone in that. Almost everyone on the ground ran towards him. The apprentice Battlemages got there first. I thought the daedra were scary, but they were nothing compared to those three. They didn't stop for anything: Their every movement was a strike at a daedra, a spell thrown into an enemy's face, a step towards the foe. I've seen men and women in the Legion who could best them with weapons, and I've seen mages throw more powerful spells, but the Battlemages were dangerous enough with both that it didn't matter. They fought and cast spells as easily as I walk and talk. But even they were nearly too late.

Captain Matius was fighting like I'd never seen before. His shield might have been a wall on his arm, for all the daedra were able to get past it. His sword flashed out like an arrow, sharp stabs that the eye had a hard time following in the foul light of those damn portals. He slew one of the three Dremora, and for just a moment his blade caught in the bastard's ribs. One of the others brought his mace down on the Captain's arm, breaking it, and a second swing caught him in the ribs. He fell, but before the Dremora could finish him the Battlemages arrived and drove them back. Me and a half dozen others lifted the Captain to his feet and carried him out of the city, guards dying around us as they fought to shield us from the daedra. Some of those that were left stayed to close the gates behind us. The ladders the archers had used had been moved to the opposite side of the wall, so those that still lived were able to escape as well.

I don't know how many people got out of Kvatch alive, but if one in ten was spared, then Captain Matius is the greatest thief ever to have lived. Aside from Martin he was the only one who seemed to keep his head that night.”

Baurus fought to keep his nervousness form showing. “Martin?”

“A priest of Akatosh. I saw him leading some people towards the chapel, as we carried the captain out. By that point he couldn't have reached the gates, but the chapel might keep the daedra out. If so they'll be the last people left alive in Kvatch.”

They were both silent for a moment. “Menien, in a day or so we'll be sending a team through that portal, to see if we can close it somehow. Some of the Kvatch guard, and some of the Blades. If you're interested, I'll request that Captain Matius put you in charge of the Kvatch contingent.”

Menien smiled, a cold, grim smile, laden with the promise of vengeance. “Those bastard's owe us a lot of blood Captain, it's about time they paid up. Count me in.”