Revan part 1, My first fan fic. Options

[Lord Revan]

A tall brooding figure looked over the landscape, from the atop a sigil keep in Oblivion... The man reflected on how many years ago he was made the ultimate pawn of the Deadric princes.

That was 113 years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. Orphaned shortly after birth, he had grow up as an assassin of the Morag Tong, in Vardenfell, one of the best among his peers. But when the Dark Brotherhood came to Morrowind, it all went wrong. The small enclave that he was being trained at was raided.

Though he and the other Morag Tong fought and killed many of the intruders, Revan was separted from the Morag Tong by the Dark Brotherhood assassins.
Disheartened by the deaths of those he'd grown up with, he refused to go to another guild hall. For many years, Revan moved restlessly, his heart hardened until he became solitary and distrusting of others in general.

Over those long 120 years I've worked with almost every Deadric Prince. He thought to himself.

Azura, Maphala, Mehrunes Dagon, and Hurcine had used him to accomplish things beyond their devine influence. Revan had done much: plundering, medling with other lord's affairs, and such. As he stalked down the hallway several dramora were gorging themselves on roasted flesh.
Revan despised them and saw them as simple brutes in that repulsive, jagged armor of theirs. In contrast, his armor was light-wieght, smooth, and flexible. The woven underlayer of the armor was as black as the ebony, while the pauldrons, greaves, boots, gauntlets, cuirass, and helmet were a light red shade.

The hellish landscape of Mehrunes Dagon's domain greeted him as he exited the keep. While the mortal world was still protected from Oblivion, Revan could summon a small tear in the devine barrier. The journey from Oblivion by these means was as comfortable to say the least. There was no light, but it was not the sacred darkness of night.

The rift opened a few feet of the ground and Revan landed feet-first in a patch of snow. The cold didn't bother him, he couldn't feel it through his armor. I should take my time, anything to stall returning to find another job....

Despite his dislike of snow, Revan found the Jerall Mountains more appealing than Lord Dagon's realm. Casting a glance up the road, he spotted his targets' not-so-secure hideout: Bruma. So, an entire vampire clan, should be interesting.....

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: May 24 2007, 06:40 PM

[Lord Revan]

ok everyone, first part of the fanale right here!

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Revan part 1/ Finale

........dark it becomes......... only hope.......... fellowship of shadow...... warders of twilight....... silent witness....... heralds of past teachings and kindlers of future destinies...... upon them we rest our hope,...... our lives,...... our faith,........... we are irrelevant, our guardians are those whom we must safeguard........ only the unification of light and dark, brother and sister,........ matriarch and patriarch,..... from her womb shall the seed of prophecy be born to save the last.........

Desecrated exert of the herald prophesy, written (a century after the great exile) by the wise seers.
The tome describes the end of all intelligent beings, and the 'herald' born from the pairing of a High Naryyn patriarch (only males take positions in the council) and a Dark Naryyn matriarch (unlike their bretheren, the Dark Naryyn revere their wise matrons who are chosen because of practical reasons as well as lineage).

Still the Dark Naryyn find it unlikely that any of their brothers would willingly spawn a Naryyn of joined blood, and certainly not a with a 'fallen one'.

An honor guard glanced at his partner for a moment uncertain, the other nodded at his companion. Both the creatures burst forward faster than any being could hope to move. Behind his faceplate, Revan felt surprisingly calm and focused; not fearful or anxious. He simply stood and watched as the two lethal reptilian monsters crossed a gap of three meters in an eyeblink.
The first guard-called Surrush by his bond brother- swung several spine-shattering swipes at the motionless prey -pity really, only once had any of Surrush's fellows been bested, and certainly this humanoid (whom his master often condemmed the fallen kind to death) couldn't best he and his brother alone. But Revan had other ideas. He bent over backward to avoid the first horizontal strike and blocked both of the guards' coordinated attacks with simultaneous use of his two blades. He had given so much ground he was almost against the wall, time to switch tactics, he thought. Revan stepped forward to avoid a guillotine chop, past the guard's staff effective range, before vaulting five meters and into one of the small passageways located in the walls.

He cast a glance back at the arena. Both Guards were simply standing side-by-side, staffs held at ease. Tthey must be intelligent to realize they can't pursue me this way, Revan had to give them credit. They were even ignoring the undignified screaming of Norik to hunt him down. They're smarter than Norik, he thought.

Revan exited the duct into a familiar hallway, If I continue right I'll reach the entrance before anyone catches on. But it turned out that the fanatical junior warriors weren't as smart as the guards and Revan had little chioce other than to slaughter them. A young male loosed an axe swing, but Revan stepped back and then forward in the same movement and neatly sliced off the boy's arms with one sword and impaled him with the other. Revan spun and decapitated another lad, and blasted three more into the ancient slabs with so much force their armor buckled. He rushed into the entrance hall, slicing the occupants in several flowing, dance-like motions without breaking stride. At the doorway he paused and looked back at the corpses: hands, legs, heads, and all were scorched by the disentegrating edge of his inhereted gifts....... but those weren't what filled him with remorse for their lost lives. It was the fact that all the dead were......... only fifty years old, that was not the age of acceptable death for their species....... with great sorrow he sprinted into the daylight.

three hours later...............

Revan was relieved to see the rolling planes of the West Weald again. He'd managed to escape the High Naryyn, and right now that was all that mattered to him. But as always, heedless of his condition the voice of the Daedric Princess Azura beckoned him.

"Mortal, you have pleased my sisters and myself by completing the extermination of the Vampiric clan Kruskac and the nomadic werewolfs. My sister Mephala and I wish for you to kill the
Arch-mage of the Mages Guild in the Arcane University, but you must make his death appear to be of natural causes and to leave a will for Hannibal Traven to take his place as the Arch-Mage. Do this and you will be greatly rewarded."