Bloodlust, Written by a Fan Fiction Newbie Options

[The Metal Mallet]

Greetings, I have been a fairly longtime reader of the Fan Fiction section of these forums (back when it was still W4O) as a guest. I thought it was about time to get out of "veil" per se. Hopefully, this Fan Fic will be enjoyable for you guys as your fics have been enjoyed by me. Criticism is always appreciated. Anyways, here it is!


- Bloodlust -

The knife slashed through the man’s throat with ease, causing an eruption of blood to pour out the gaping tare. A shocked gurgle escapes the man’s lips as he begins to pale. The only warmth he feels is the body that is holding him up and the bodily fluid running down his chest. His eyes finally cloud over, still locked in their state of shock. The body is then silently lowered to the ground.

The killer stares down at his latest handiwork. What a rush! The sound of the blade tearing through skin and flesh, the sudden burst of blood spouting out the wound, even the sickly sweet scent of the man’s life force intoxicated him. He inhaled the scent deeply as he bent over to clean off his knife on the man’s shirt. This was just another stepping stone in order to prepare himself for his main goal.

Vengeance, he thought, I will have it soon. I just need to make sure my skills are up to par to get away with this. Hopefully this gets you quivering in those expensive boots of yours as well.

The figure cloaked in darkness exited the alley where he committed his crime, casually integrating with the night’s pedestrians. As he passed a homeless man and his fire barrel, he casually tossed his bloodstained gloves into the flames. An experienced killer will not leave any incriminating evidence. Fortunately he didn’t get any blood on his clothes this time.

After handing the homeless man some coins, he continued on. The journey home was uneventful after that. No one paid any attention to the moderately well-dressed man walking down the street. No one knew the chaotic thoughts running through his mind at the moment. No one knew the pain and suffering he has gone through to get this far, or the lengths to which he’ll go to achieve what he wants. All they see is an average man who prefers black colours and cloaks. No one would suspect he was the one behind the current string of murders that have been happening.

The killer arrived at his home, located in a quiet, peaceful part of Kvatch. As he hung up his cloak, he contemplated his next move. The best approach would be to wait a couple of days before initiating his next murder. There was no need to be hasty and become careless. The point was to get away with his mission in the end; suspicions must be avoided at all costs.

As he climbed into bed, his thoughts were still running through his actions of the night, reliving every beautifully bloody moment. He closed his eyes and knew what his dream was going to be. It has always been the same recently.

Sweet, bloody revenge.

This post has been edited by The Metal Mallet: Jun 19 2006, 05:52 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Okay, I may have said there would be a flashback with this post. Now it does flashback somewhat, but it wasn't the expected flashback I wanted to write, that one, I promise you, will be the next update. So again, I give you a bit of a shorter one, but I believe it's quite informative... Hope it's somewhat enjoyable


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After several drinks, Lavos mind drifted to his past experiences with Simion. When he joined the Guild, Simion had established himself as a proficient assassin with a gift for teaching the tools of the trade. Lavos had received the privilege of being trained under Simion. A friendship quickly bloomed during the training sessions between the two assassins. Their mannerisms just meshed together and they were able to talk to each other easily. Sure, harsh words were exchanged between them from time to time, but they usually quickly resolved them after a little time was given. There was one thing that they would never discuss, at least for one of them.

Simion would never talk about his past, or at least his childhood. Lavos had tried to pry the information from him, but Simion had setup large defences. Trying to get Simion to talk about his childhood was like trying to scale a perfectly smooth, twenty-foot wall without a grapple. Impossible. He simply emptied all emotion from his eyes, looking at Lavos like a cold, dead thing, and said he didn’t want to talk about it. From that, all the Lavos could assume was that it was a traumatic childhood. For a lot of the Guild members, that was a reason that drew them to the Morag Tong. Many were abused as children and grew up to have violent tendencies, the lucky ones ended up finding the more just, and legal, Morag Tong while the unfortunate ones are discovered by the despicable Dark Brotherhood.

Lavos’ reasons for joining the Tong were different. He wanted to achieve perfection in his dagger-craft. At a young age, knives fascinated him and he was drawn into their use. Just the efficiency of them amazed him. You could conceal a dagger, or throw it, or slice and stab with it. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t find a home to enhance his craft. Sure House Hlaalu offered some training for daggers, but they also wanted him to help them with their money getting schemes. He also heard rumours on where to join the Thieves Guild, but upon inquiry, Lavos found out about their policy on avoiding the use of violence. He only stumbled upon the Morag Tong by chance on his visit to Vvardenfell.

He had grown up on the mainland of Morrowind but had relatives in Vvardenfell. He received news of his grandfather’s death and decided to go to the funeral held in Balmora. After the services, he decided to roam the streets of Balmora, just to observe the city. It was much less elaborate than what he was used to on the mainland, yet it made it that much more interesting to discover. During his journey he found a guildhall nestled in the back of the Manor District. It struck Lavos as odd, since it was quite far removed from the more popular Fighters and Mages Guilds. It was as if this Guild was saying that they were different. The name of it was even striking to Lavos, the Morag Tong Guildhall. Now being from the mainland, Lavos had only heard little about this Guild. Most of which consisted that they were assassins that rivalled with the more popular Dark Brotherhood, who had more influence on the mainland. But he had his curiosity picked so he entered the building.

Upon entering, he instantly felt the atmosphere. It felt mystical, secretive, and right. He talked to the patron of the Guildhall and upon hearing their philosophy on how the Guild operates, and that they provided extensive training in short blades, marksmanship, stealth, and illusion, he immediately knew he wanted to be a member. He was shocked when the patron of the Guild said that he couldn’t until he discovered their hidden main Guildhall. He received a book that gave him a hint on where to find it. Being new the Vvardenfell, it took him a wile to get to Vivec, and even longer to figure out where in the gigantic city the Guildhall was located, but he was determined, even a little time wasted wasn't going to deter him. After watching a match in the Arena did he realize the answer to the riddle in the book. Shortly after that he found the Guildhall, met with Eno Hlaalu, and passed his initiation test. Straight after that he met his teacher and master, Simion, and from there on he had enjoyed a happy career as a Morag Tong assassin.

At least mainly happy career, he mused to himself as he took another sip of his drink. A couple of months before Simion went into retirement, they ran into an incident during a mission. It still stung him as the memories flooded his mind…