The Balance: The Neutral Spider, From the Office of Laegus Hawkherd Options

[Red]

Well, this is the starting of my new, hopefully longer living Fan Fiction. This is a very rough draft, AKA only edited and re-edited about 7 times. I know, I'm such a prefectionis. Anyways, this is an odd little gem that I have been kicking around for a while, and the name will soon mean something. Also, please reply with any comments and critiques, nagative or positive. And now, I'm off, and the story is starting. *Dissapears in a cloud of smoke*



CHAPTER ONE: The Trigger

The one question people love to ask me the most is definitely how. How I could just stroll in and out of a murder scene without any thought at all. How I could have evaded the law for so long even though I was so social. How I could possibly fit the accusations against me, and how the crimes could even be possible. I always answer these questions the same way, the cold stare they expect to see.

Lets back up a few years though, so you can understand me the way not many people can. I am Ordras Morvayn, surprisingly good-looking blacksmith living in Cyrodiil. The whole twisted, downward spiral I have been living in as of late started like most stories haven’t. Not with me angry, or happy, or doing anything interesting at all. My ash skinned hide was fast asleep on my soft, comfy bed. I wasn’t dreaming (though I wish I was because it would make this a little more interesting), nor was I looking into a black abyss for hours like normal. It was fast asleep, as in when you fall asleep and feel like you’ve napped for ten seconds. I woke up suddenly, though not groggy, not in pain, not covered in blood, but awake at least. Looking around my large, cluttered room; I noticed how early it was, as the candle I had lit earlier was still aflame. I walked through my room door, past the door of my currently travelling co-worker and past the door where my boss slept before he could afford a real house. After walking a few steps more and jumping down the stairs, all two of them, I was in the smithing room. Here, is where our story bursts from a dull cocoon and spreads the wings of an interesting plot twist.

A tall figure, at least a head taller then me, stood in the smithing room above a body. He wore loose, black leather pants with belts wrapped around various places. A dark cloak over a barely visible shirt ensured I had no guess to his weight, though he looked like he was quite lean from the little of him I could see, and he wore a Netch leather helm painted black. He looked like he killed Hitmen in his spare time. I looked at him, a monstrous looking killer clad in black, and he looked at me, an easy target Dark Elf clad in baggy underwear. He laughed a long, hardy laugh and reached into the pack on his back. I froze. He revealed something, but not a weapon. He threw a shirt and a pair of pants at me. I looked at him hard, and then the dead body of an Altmer he stood above. No one I worked with, my strange Nordic boss thought my co-worker and I were more than enough to do all the smith work his clients required. “Now” the stranger said with a booming voice, pointing at the clothes. I put them on quickly, nearly putting my head through an armhole. I can honestly say I have never felt a material so soft. Funny the things you notice while in shock fearing you might die.

The stranger blindfolded me, but he did it with care and believe you me, that wasn’t expected. He led me a few steps and then picked me up, which was probably awkward for I was pretty tall myself, and placed me in what seemed to be a cart. I heard the braying, naying and bustling of horses and then his dark, booming voice once again. “Close your eyes and your mind, Dark Elf, and fall asleep like you had been earlier” He was definitly a Dark Elf and before I could even think of something to say, I blurted out a blind sentence. “Are you violent?” I barely knew what I meant I was so sleepy and confused, but he did. He took a deep, calming breath before speaking. “No, and you can think of me as a friend as soon as you wake” he said it calmly and in a way only a good friend would, and sounded like he was smiling. What a gentleman.

This post has been edited by Red: Feb 27 2006, 04:10 AM

[Red]

A nice update. Please write more.

Very nice update Red, I really liked the note he recieved, it seemed very professional and I can't wait for the next part.  Update soon!

Yes pleas sir....update again when you find the opportunity to do so, it´s really good!

*climbing to the pinnicle of the mountain above the town and its people, the scholar Redeus speaks*

What my people ask, my people recieve! Updates be plentiful!





I dreamed that I was running towards a cloud of smoke. It was nighttime and the dark sky was turned even darker with said black smoke that billowed out as if this was a Dwemer factory (though I had only heard about them). After running for what seemed like hours, I noticed I was clad in heavy clunking armour, and the smoke turned into an enormous burning building. Covered in fire arrows, it was sure to completely burn to the ground within minutes, and yet I ran towards it without hesitation. I had no fear, or thought of danger, but only the dreaded reality that I might not make it in raced across my mind. I drew a beautiful katana from seemingly nowhere, and held it behind my head. I got to the door and swung my sword with much force, and the door exploded into splinters and chips. I looked around the room, and saw almost nothing but fire, smoke and a spiralling staircase. I ran up the spiralling staircase, ignoring the two bodies I stepped over going up. I seemed to know exactly where I was going strangely enough.

I was about three steps from the second floor, when I heard the sound of metal bending. The staircase buckled and snapped in half and the support beam that ran through the middle of the staircase fell off the ceiling. The upper part of the staircase fell with the beam so I jumped toward the very place the staircase once connected to. I held on, with only my arms and head at level, trying to climb up. The tile floor I was holding onto wasn’t very safe to grip, and I started sliding back. I swung my left arm to get a better grip but the tiles my arm landed on snapped and slipped. I held on by my right hand, without much of a grip. I slipped and started my slow descent to the ground. My dream ended thank Azura, and I sprung up covered in sweat. I noticed the sun was out outside of my window. I climbed out of bed and dressed back up in my clothes from yesterday.

I walked out my door with the package and papers. I thought about asking Caneyelle about the whereabouts of the horse, but remembered that I had no idea how early it was. I navigated through the building, and not seeing anyone, I guessed it was quite early. I found the front door after a few minutes searching, and walked through. A man on horse back was coming through the forest with a pull cart connected to the horse. I waved, and waited for him to answer my gesture. He came closer and closer, before his horse stopped about five feet in front of me. The rider was wearing a long, thick robe that had been made completely of pelts and a strange bear helm upon his aged, Redguard head.

“You must be cold, Dunmer. Go to the cart attached to my horse and fish out the fur robe and bear helm” he was right. I had been shivering for the last few minutes as snow, which already covered much of the ground and trees, fell to Cyrodiil. I did exactly as he had said, fishing out the clothing, but noticed something strange. The cart was full of enchanted weapons. I dared not take one as I put on the robe and helm, but wondered how such treasures were found in a barren (well, my definition of barren means lacking Dwemer buildings) region such as this. The Redguard climbed off the horse and unhooked the cart, moving it away from the beast. “You best watch yourself on the ancient road and in Skull Drop, the road is full of animals and criminals this time of year, not to mention barbarians, and Skull Drop is a site often travelled to by grudge holding war mongerers and insane soldiers. Now take this horse and travel the road. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, turn at any crossroads or intersections, because all of them lead to danger” at that moment the Redguard undid his scabbard from under his robe and drew a blade. This is my katana, Shald, and I trust that you will try to avoid using it. If you meet trouble along the road, feel its energy run through you, and become the acrobat. I’ll explain the sword when you get back, and I hope it will be in one piece” he sheathed the sword, handed me the sword and scabbard and turned and started pulling his cart toward a building before vanishing through its large door. I approached the horse.

Horses. We Dunmer are not too fond of horses. We can ride Silt Striders and other native bugs, walking or flying, but yet we seem to lack the ability to ride a western beast. I noticed the foot handles at the bottom of the, brown, thing, and put my right foot in. I slumped onto the horse and slowly moved my left foot over and down to the other, foot, thing. I hopped a little, and pushed my self onto what seemed to be meant for sitting on, and held the, brown, rope, thing. Lord Nerevar did these westerners love brown. Brown seat, brown rope thing, brown foot thing, brown horse with brown eyes. What a repulsive colour.

[Kiln]

Great update Red, wonderfully written and had a bit of humor laced into it through the customs of the character. I especially liked this part,

Lord Nerevar did these westerners love brown. Brown seat, brown rope thing, brown foot thing, brown horse with brown eyes. What a repulsive colour.

Very good Red, keep it up.