The Story of the Listener, My first fanfic. Options

[Kayla]

Ok. This is my first fanfic. I'm a tad nervous about it, but I'd like to see what everyone thinks.
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I sat quietly on a bench beside the pawnshop on the docks of Anvil, staring out over the dark Abecean Sea. Through the clouds in the sky, I could see that the sun was setting. A chilly wind blew my black robes and hood as though they were weightless, but the persistent breeze was unsuccessful in penetrating the black light armor I wore underneath my robes. I listened to the fragmented conversations of the dock workers, and watched as people hastily walked by, fearing that it would soon begin to storm.

Before I knew it, the sun had set completely. The Nord who owned the shop I was sitting in front of walked outside. He locked up his shop and began to make his way down the stone street toward the resident area of Anvil. He hadn’t even noticed that I’d been sitting just feet away from him. I heard the Nord loudly greet someone before he walked completely out of earshot. Soon after, an Orc walked by. I studied the Orc carefully as he passed. He walked with a slight limp and had a large scar on his left arm, and just as I expected, he opened the door to the dockside warehouse and went inside.

It was completely dark now. Neither sun nor moon shone through the twisting clouds in the sky. The wind picked up, carrying moisture in it.

I stood and made my way to the back door of the warehouse. I picked the lock and the door swung open. Quickly I slipped into the thick darkness inside. The warehouse was fairly big but, a few candles on a large table in the middle of the room revealed the Orc’s position. He was busily unpacking things from crates and setting them on shelves. He was completely unaware of my presence, and I preferred it that way. I slipped through the shadows toward him. In the darkness I felt strong, invincible, and incapable of fear. I observed his movements, the way his body flowed with each contraction and relaxation of each muscle. I watched every joint in his body, paying close attention to his spinal cord. The Orc was old, and moved as though he’d been doing hard labor his entire life. Almost every movement looked as though it pained him.

As soon as I was sure of his reactions, I silently unsheathed my ebony blade, a gift from a dear friend, and I closed in on the Orc. He was still unaware of my being there, even though I was soon right behind him, almost breathing down his neck. In one quick motion, I lunged out of the shadows, grabbed the Orc with my right arm, wrapping it around the front of his neck and shoulders, then I brought my left hand up and stabbed him right in the jugular vein. The poor old Orc didn’t even have a chance to yell. I let go of the body letting it fall limply onto the wooden floor of the warehouse. I waited for his gurgled breathing to stop, then I snuffed the candles out and exited the warehouse the same way I’d come in.

(Expect updates!)

[Kayla]

Another update!
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I woke up and looked around. I was in a graveyard.
“What the hell am I doing here?” I asked out loud. There was no one else around. Suddenly, I felt an extreme chill. I heard footsteps in the grass behind me. I turned around to see Lucien standing there.
“L-Lucien…”
“Listen to me.” He said. “It’s not over, Sarelle. Believe that.”
I was so cold, I felt as though I were freezing to death. “Lucien, what are you talking about?” I asked.
“Heed my words.” He said, with a sad look in his eyes. Then, he turned and began to walk away, disappearing into the fog before I could call out to him.

I sat up quickly, looking around. I was in bed in the sanctuary. All the other murderers were asleep in beds near me. Cold sweat dripped down my face. I realized slowly that it was a dream. I got out of bed, and found my feet. I was a little dizzy, and I drank a small swig of mead to calm myself. I sat down and steadied my breathing. After a few minute’s reflection over my dream, I stood.

I walked out into the main hall of the sanctuary and then down the hall to my right, toward Arquen’s quarters. I pushed open the heavy doors to see her lying in bed asleep. I entered silently, closing the doors behind me. Then, I cast a night-eye spell. Mutely, I wandered the room, searching drawers and cupboards. I couldn’t find anything.

Then, it hit me. What was I doing here? What was I looking for? “Anything…” I told myself. “Anything to make things make more sense.” At that moment, I spotted a book. Curiously, I picked it up. The name of the book was “Darkest Darkness” and it was a fairly common book. When I set it back down, a small slip of paper fell out of it. I caught it before it floated to the floor, and raised it to look at it. The piece of paper had a strange symbol drawn awkwardly on it. I could have sworn I’d seen it somewhere before. Under the symbol, it said in plain handwriting, “Arquen, High Elf, Cheydinhal”. I studied the paper for a bit longer, trying to make sense of it. “Sarelle, you’ve been through a lot lately. That dream probably meant nothing. You’re getting paranoid over nothing. If you give in to such thoughts, you’ll slowly go insane.” I reasoned with myself. I replaced the piece of paper and the book and walked back to the living quarters.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep any more, but that didn’t bother me. I had a few things to think over, and soon, I would set out to speak with the Night Mother.

When I entered the living quarters, I was startled to see one of the murderers awake and pacing around the room. He was a Wood Elf, and his ears perked up when I entered.

“Oh, Listener… Excuse me. My restless manner must be making you nervous.” He lowered his head and stood still.
“No, your manner is fine. Tell me what is on your mind.” I replied.
“Listener, it is nothing.” “You’d be sleeping soundly now if it was truly nothing.” I said, smiling.
“Well...” The Bosmer paused. He looked up at me; his bright blue eyes were glazed. “I feel guilty sometimes… Guilty for killing people. I know I shouldn’t. I’m in the Dark Brotherhood and everything…”
“Ah.” I gave an understanding nod. “It’s alright to feel that way. Even the most cold hearted of murderers feel guilty sometimes. However, if you see your line of work as wrong, then maybe the Dark Brotherhood just isn’t for you. There’s no shame in seeing murder as wrong. However, most of us here at the sanctuary don’t see it that way.”
The Bosmer nodded. “Does the guilt go away?”
“First you have to know whether or not your believe killing to be wrong.” I answered. “Develop your own ideas, and everything should become easier for you.”
“Thank you, Listener.” The Bosmer said. “I feel a little better now.”
“You’re welcome. Also, you and the rest of the murderers may call me Sarelle.” I answered.
The Bosmer smiled. “Why aren’t you sleeping soundly tonight, Listener-I mean Sarelle?” he asked.
I sighed. “I wish I could easily tell you.” I said.
The Bosmer looked confused but he didn’t push it any further. “Goodnight.” I said to him.
“Goodnight, Sarelle.” He said, walking back to his bed.

EDIT: I tried a different kinda paragraph style with conversations. I think it makes the story a little more user friendly. Like to know what you guys think though.

This post has been edited by Kayla: Apr 23 2006, 06:09 AM