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 this is it

-----

Revan part 1/ finale


Revan clenched his fists and let out an exasperated sigh of frustration. Deadra never care if I'm not in the mood do they? Still he suposed he would need that reward later on, so will and poison collected, he was off to the Imperial City-Capital of Cyrodiil and the empire.

Imperial City gates......

Revan strode down the great bridge of the city, he had to admit that the Imperial City was as majestic on the outside as it was rumured to be. White Gold Tower/ the Imperial Palace was visible from miles around due to its height, the Arcane University was bursting with raw magical energy, a true monument to the study of magical knowledge. But he was about to change life for more than one magister in not just Cyrodiil.

It was 11:35 and shadows were everywhere and Revan exploited his ability to merge with them. He studied a pair of battlemages conversed with one another. Revan had ten darts in hand, each poisoned with enough 'drain/damage fatigue' to knock them out until morning, and releashed them. The swarm of darts scratched and nicked the guards enough for their powers to take effect but without much visible damage. Both battlemages went down without any audible disturbence, and thegroup of thrown items returned to the assailent's hands.

Revan pocketed the missles and jogged into the bastion shrouded from sight and honed silence of an expert assassin. The lobby contained two benches, a shelf topped with crystal balls, alembics and other magical doodads, and the unsuspicious glowing teleportation pad on the floor. He stood on the pedaste and felt a moment of vertigo and a lack of directional bearing as a purple flash filled his view. When he appeared, he saw a circular table and a few display cases, and yet another teleporter. Holding back his impatience he activated and felt the same vertigo sensation as before.

This time he arrived in the Arch-Magister's bedroom, the room was full of personal luxuries expected of a mage: a series of alchemical devices, a bookcase full of manuals, and a chest full of potions, ingrediants, and soul gems of the highest quality. And then there was the Arch-Mage himself, he was brewing a cup of herbal tea, Revan knew that was how to he would kill the old scroll-scribler. Revan cursed the elderly man with a loss of intelligence and willpower, the lapse of attention allowed the killer to administer the poison to the cup of tea without the mage realizing it. The condemmed man shook his haed and shakely drank the beverage and the lethal contents as well. The affect was immediate, the mark suddenly began to convulse and choke, the elf fell onto the floor death by a simple science called alchemy.

Revan tossed the 'will' on the desk and departed, the deed had been done the rest was mere detail. Instead of fleeing the university he scaled up the tower in the center of the grounds; Revan looked up at the great moon at its peak and heard the voice of Azura.

"Congradulations envoy, your work has set in motion events that will change the face of Tamriel. You no doubt wish for the reward that you were promised." Here it comes, He thought. Suddenly he heard a hissing sound and realized in shock that his staff was disentigrating. Revan opened his pack to discover that all of the artifacts he had worked so hard to gain over a century ago were turning to dust. "You have gained the a great reward for the price of your loyalty and some useless trinkets, Azura and Mephala's voices chorused. "You are no longer endentured to our will and so you have earned your freedom!" As the two divine's presences in Revan knew that their 'reward' was not as priceless as they said, they were tossing him aside like a spent scroll........

dawn.......

Revan watched the sunrise from the summit of the Arcane University the sun's appearence didn't bring any relief, he hadn't moved for hours. He had no purpose to live for, he didn't know what do. All he still had was his armor, his thrown weapons,........ and his swords! He still had his heritage, the High Naryyn were still out there and if any of his people were still alive he had to find them, that was his new calling. Revan picked himself up blades in hand and looked over the horizon, this wasn't over, not by a long shot.

Revan part 2
A new purpose

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Jul 26 2006, 04:28 AM