Sirin, Couldn't resist myself Options

[Sirin]

Well, I found myself lacking in Mabriel's story.... After I bought Oblivion (which, oddly enough, doesn't want to work for me...) I lost track of her. So here's Sirin.

I sat motionless, staring at the blank, stone wall. This wall is all that separates me from the outside. I didn't blink. I didn't even bother to breathe. Life seemed to stop. Here I had sat, in the Imperial prison, for three weeks. Why? I was a criminal. Prison is where all criminals wound up. Foolish reason.... I had asked myself this question for all of the twenty one days I had sat in my cell. Sure, criminals get locked up, but why am I in here? I suddenly drew in a sharp breath. Memories flooded in my mind's eye. I had been betrayed...

Three weeks ago, I, Sirin Kalimian, was a free Redguard. A free, wealthy Redguard, at that. I had led a dishonest, but profitable lifestyle. I had been involved in smuggling, theft, and other various vices. It was risky, yes, but I was good at it. Was good at it. An Imperial patrol had discovered crates of skooma in some commoner's home. The commoner had made a plea to the Thieve's guild before the patrol raided his house. He had needed the money from skooma badly, and would be killed without it. He was reminded that he would be imprisoned, and ran little risk of being murdered. However, he had claimed that he owed the money to the Dark Brotherhood. That's a serious problem... The guild had sent me to retrieve the skooma while it was en route to Castle Anvil. I HAD retrieved the skooma, but had been ambushed afterwards.

The Imperial fools had used the "commoner" to catch me. The Thieve's guild had even helped them, intentionally sending me to my grave, so to speak. I had been beaten and dragged into the prison. So, here I sat. Before I was aware of what I was doing, I caught myself scrawling on the rough stone wall. "Vengeance" "That's right," I said, "I will have vengeance."


That's all I got for now. Evening. I love comments!!!

[Sirin]

Ah.... Update... I love it.... Part 2

I stared at my inscription for some time, allowing hate and rage to fill my thoughts. Scholars and philosophers would say that these feelings would cloud my judgment, but I would beg to differ. If I had the strength I needed, I could punch through the cursed wall that sealed me off from the world.

Suddenly, footsteps crashed into my thoughts. I turned around to see a heavily armored guard trudging towards me. He was carrying a food tray, which I imagined was my lunch. Good, at least he's proving his worth somehow... I gazed at the tray longingly, at then quickly glanced into his eyes. The hunched man was scowling at me, revealing a set of hideous teeth.

"So, are you going to give me my food?" I asked after he had been standing in front of my cell for some time. "Or are you going to eat it yourself?" He grunted loudly and promptly dumped the contents of my tray on the dusty ground. He glared at me; at glared at him. He slowly turned around and walked away. "Are you planning on cleaning that up, pig?" I called out as he vanished from the hallway.

Thankfully, he had only dropped my food a few inches away from the cell door, so I easily snaked my scrawny arms through the bars and grabbed it. Finally recognizing the overbearing hunger in my stomach, I sank my teeth into a piece of moldy bread. Ah! fine dining! I had devoured the food in no time at all. After the last bite of plague food was consumed, I weakly crawled over to my bedroll and closed my eyes.

I couldn't have slept for more than a few hours when light peeled my eyes open again. I felt a sharp stone rebound off of my head, and I looked up to see the guard who ruined my food throwing rocks at me. I hastily jumped up and reached through the bars, grabbing the man's pudgy throat. He cried out, so I dug my fingers in deeper. The light in his eyes was dimming when more guards bolted around the corner. A fist shot through the bars and was planted in my fist. After having been awake for no more than several minutes, darkness flooded my vision.

I woke up in a different cell, one darker than my former 'lodgings'. I swung out towards the wall, hoping to quell my frustration through violence, but my fist didn't move an inch. I tried to move my other fist, so I could feel it, but it too was unmovable. I rubbed my face against the both of them to feel metal. I had gauntlets on my hands! Why me? I groaned softly as my head drooped down onto my chest. I would never have the strength to move the gloves of metal. Sorrow consumed me, and I eventually fell into a tear-driven sleep.

Hope you guys enjoy it.

This post has been edited by Sirin: May 6 2006, 03:40 PM