Anima di Nerezza Chapter 4, Haste Options

[Sirin]

Anima di Nerezza
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Part 1-Names for faces

I stood in absolute darkness. Or, more correctly, I hovered in absolute darkness. I felt no ground, but nor had I any feelings of weightlessness. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, but I could see for miles in front of me. Mass confusion clouded my thoughts. Through my mental discord, however, a voice spoke.

“Mortal, you have done more than you know,” spoke Mehrunes Dagon. “By setting forth in a quest to restore balance to your precious little faction, you have embarked on a journey to rival the greatest of heroes, or the most notorious of villains. You have made me glad that I have restored the gift of life unto you. Continue to do so, and you will be granted many things.”

Feeling somewhat bold with the Daedra’s compliments at my back, I asked a question of the Daedra. “My lord, I have encountered several obstacles in my path, yet I know nothing about them. Can you tell me anything of them?”

As if thinking for a moment, the Daedra paused before he spoke again. “I know of these obstacles. The Redguard, be wary of him. You may never truly know of his allegiances. As for the mysterious woman whom you despise, she is… a servant of another. Sheogorath is her master.” Having satisfied my meager wishes, the voice of Dagon vanished, as did the darkness. When my vision cleared, I was still seated at the Leaping Lion, staring at my half-empty mug. The conversations still continued. Nothing seemed to have changed. But as I gazed into the dark liquid of my mug, my reflection showed something different.

My eyes: one red, another blue. I hoped that it was just the alcohol, but after staring for some time, I concluded that it was real. Ah, but another sign of the Daedra’s control of my life. Angry, but at the same time excited, I got up and left the tavern.

Can’t you see? He’s helping you. He has given you gift after gift, said one side of my mind.

No, what he’s given me is multicolored eyes! What help is that? said the other half.

People don’t have to see you eyes. You could wear a hooded robe all of the time, and no one would know the difference.

No, if I wore a hooded robe, someone might mistake me for the Thing, the servant of Sheogorath.

Plenty of people wear robes and cover their faces. She isn’t the only one.

Maybe… maybe you have a point. After finally ending the psychological warfare going on in my head, I walked over to the nearest clothier. The shop was a small, bright haven of clothing. The shop keeper was a short Imperial woman. The radiance of her blonde hair was only magnified by her ruby red lipstick.

No…no… it can’t be her… it isn’t! I stared for a moment at the lady, until the mirage faded into the actual shop keeper, who had brown hair and no make up whatsoever. I really needed to quit drinking.

“Are you alright, miss?” she asked worriedly. “You look… by the Nine! What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Er… just a problem from when I was born,” I lied, and ducked my head. My face must have turned shades redder than the Thing’s lipstick, for I certainly felt humiliated. I hastily picked out a midnight blue robe, for they had no black, and took it to the keeper. I persisted in locking my eyes to the floor, but I could still feel her curious stare.

I dashed out of the store and ducked into a dark alley to put on my cloak. Pulling it on over my head, and consequently blinded, I was nigh helpless when the rough hands grabbed me. They picked me up, slung me over the shoulders that they were connected to, and took me into a vacant building.

I was rudely dropped on a table while the robe was ripped off from over my head. The face that hovered above me can only be described as hated. Despised, loathed, reviled. Anything would do the trick. But still, for a minute, words escaped me. The hands tied me to the table with strong ropes, and finally I yelled out.

“It’s you, the Thing!” I screamed with the anger rising in my voice.

“My, my, you could at least call me Maria,” said the Thing, or Maria, as she wished to be called. She raised a jagged dagger above her head without another word. As she curved it towards me, I found myself squeezing my eyes shut.

This post has been edited by Sirin: Mar 8 2006, 11:37 PM

[Sirin]

Part 5-Love Hurts

The foyer was dimly lit, having only four torches to illuminate the area. I was briefed on the general layout of the castle. The stairwell I needed to be in was supposed to be to the east. Ah and there it was! I had memorized the entire map in the few hours I had before I left the Leaping Lion. I climbed up the winding stair case, not stopping for anything or anyone. It felt like a half hour, though it obviously wasn’t, before I reached the appropriate floor. I wandered around the various halls and hallways until I reached the room of the orc, Raziel.

I slowly opened the door. As I peered into the strangely hushed room, I honestly expected to find Raziel dead. I had, engraved in my mind, a picture of Dante Gallias’ cold, dead face. I would have only been partially surprised if his face was replaced with Raziel’s. Suddenly, the orc burst from out of his bedroom. His stern face told me I was late.

“By the Nine, woman! How much longer were you planning on delaying?” he raged.

“Please, forgive me, master! I was held up by the man at the front gate. I swear, they can never keep their hands to themselves!” I lied. My statement sickened me. The fawning, ‘master’ spewing role I had assumed was… the farthest thing from my true self. However, I knew this was the only easy was to get so close to Raziel and be able to get away with it.

“Alright then, just… hurry up. And do keep quiet, I wouldn’t want to disturb anybody else,” he said, more calmly this time. I voiced my agreement, and then asked for a spare room that I could change clothes in. He pointed me to a room off to my right. I went inside and readied myself for the next several minutes. Or hours. Whatever it would take to get an open shot at this troublesome orc, I would do it.

I took off my robes, which I now yearned for, and remained in the immodest clothing of Maria. I grasped my dagger in my hand and formulated a brief, but practical plan. I slid the knife into the light belt that accompanied Maria’s outfit and walked out of my room and into Raziel’s.

He was readying himself elsewhere, so I had time to arrange his quarters as I wished them. I slid the dagger underneath his relatively low bed and then sat on the extremely comfortable piece of furniture. When I heard the orc walking towards the room, I braced myself and muttered a quick prayer to Mehrunes.

The orc, upon walking in, assumed a whole new persona. He went from a short tempered, yet mild mannered ex-soldier to an aggressive and lustful creature. A creature driven by pure instinct. He rushed to me and began all sorts of acts. A very active man, Raziel was. He was so greatly focused on such an activity that he never saw me reach under the bed to grasp the blade. Or maybe he did, but he suspected it was out of pleasure of some sort. Unfortunately for him, such thinking was about to cease. Without the slightest of changes in expression, I brought the dagger up from the floor and plunged it deep into his neck. I pulled it out gradually, and when his head dropped onto my exposed chest, I kicked the corpse off of me.

“Vercindelle, you owe me so much for this,” I muttered softly. Forsaking Maria’s clothing, I rummaged about in Raziel’s shelves until I discovered a suitable outfit. On top of this I pulled on my cloak, which I pulled and tied rather tightly. It felt amazing to have clothing on again. I promptly left the orc’s room and exited the castle. However, upon slinking out of the gates and into freedom, I was stopped by the ambitious Imperial man. Eager to return to the Leaping Lion, I turned around and planted my lips on his.

“Are you pleased, now?!” I cried at the dazed man, and stalked off. If I never had to see a man again, save Vercindelle or a corpse, it would never be too soon. I eventually reached the tavern, entering, once again, the vacant pub that I had seen the night before. I trudged into Vercindelle’s office, feeling the effects of tonight’s questionable going ons.