SpellSwords Fury, The Tale of Ibis Raze Options

[Black Hand]

The twin moons of Secunda and Masser reflected off the restless waters of the Inner Sea. A nondescript schooner made its way through the waters between the Mainland and the Island of Vvardenfell. On board, looking over the horizon to the Grand Pharos of Seyda Neen, was a mysterious figure wrapped in a dark blue silk cloak, a hood completely covered her face, save for the glint of her sharp green eyes that took in all things around her.

The Census and Excise office was not happy to awaken at the late hours to process yet another visitor to the Vvardenfell District, and Socious Ergalla grumpily adorned a simple robe to make his records.

Looking up at the beautiful Breton, he was glad that he had woken up. Perhaps in her late twenties, the blond hair was neatly tied in back of her hair with a Nord-Style decoration. The green eyes seemed to peer through his very soul, he couldn’t but help stare at her moist pink lips, desire clutched him, as he fell to his baser instincts.

“N-name?’ he asked, as she smiled slightly, she was all too used to the reaction from men. It seemed that they were all the same. Well. Almost all.

“Ibis Raze, of the Kingdom of Camlorn, High Rock Province.” She said in a singily hypnotic voice.

His eyes traveled the expanse of her shimmering cloak, the dark blue contrasting perfectly with her yellow hair.

“Class?”

“I am a SpellSword, sir.” She replied politely, as his eyes caught the hilt of what seemed to be a glass longsword from an opening in her attire, except that it was the color purple. Amethyst it would seem. Indeed, she even had a quiver of arrows, and a bow that looked Daedric, except that it was constructed of glass, all a strange Amethyst purple.

”Reason for visiting Vvardenfell?” he asked.

“Business.” She stated tautly.

“Oh, um, what kind….never mind!” He said laughingly, finishing his notations.

“Now then if you’ll just sign here…” he pointed to the bottom portion of the document, and as her lithe soft hand grabbed the quill from his, he gulped, and saw that the Bracer on her hand was also the purple glass amethyst. Indeed from neck to foot, she was adorned with the unique armor. She scratched out her signature, and handed the quill back. Without asking she took her leave, the cloak billowing behind her. With a very stunned Exciseman watching her leave.

Then the name suddenly struck him, was’nt that the name of a woman from a book he read? The Mystery of Princess Talara? Wasn’t that in the Kingdom of Camlorn? It seemed too odd of a coincidence. If she was her, or related to her, she was no doubt royalty.

The morning hours of Balmora brought the life and sounds of human traffic, and merchant shops opened there doors to hopes of another days pile of gold. And like clockwork, the Silt Strider arrived to the port, the Dunmer caravaner, graciously grabbed the hand of the lady that rode with him, and helped her to step off. She smiled sweetly and paid him a modest sum of gold, that he was delighted to receive, and bade her a cheerful good journey.

First thing’s first. And I need a room, and information. Hopefully the two go hand in hand here. Ibis thought to herself as she made her way to a local popular tavern.

The Eight Plates regulars looked up with their red eyes at the sight of the Breton woman walking in and making her way to the Publican before returning to the slump of their ritual drinking.

“I need a room, Sera.” Ibis said handing over a small sack of gold. Which the publican made disappear. “I also need to know if you’ve heard of any rumours?”

The lady Innkeeper looked up at her with a questioning gaze.

“Have you heard of any….Menaces?”

“My good lady, this is Vvardenfell, the only thing not a menace here is the scribs, you’ll have to be a bit more specific I’m afraid.”

“This one would be distinctive, it is said to appear friendly, but it gives a deadly disease that freezes its victims in their tracks,…some call this menace,…the Forumus Officialis..”

The publican gasped at the name. She had clearly heard the name before.

“Sadrith Mora, I can say no more.” She said looking around, as though afraid some unseen force would hear her and ban her to Oblivion.

Her brow knitted as she realized her quarry lay nearer than ever. In the Morning, she would depart.

[Black Hand]

Ibis ran through the Ashlands cursing the hostility of the landscape. She had long since shed her blue cloak, and her armor and armaments were impressive, she looked ready for war with her bow and quiver of arrows on her back, and her Glass Longsword swinging with her stride as ran at top speed too the Erabenimsun Camp. This close to her quarry, she would not let a single moment go to waste.

The Guar Herder Illath-Perenimus looked to the horizon and saw a cloud of ash rising in the distance. He wondered if another ashstorm was brewing, but realized that it was a trail of someone running. He could even see a glint of some purple property in the midde of the cloud, the setting suns light reflecting off of it. He stood there chewing on a hackle-lo, waiting for the cloud to pass him by.

Ibis saw a Dunmer in the distance, and kept on running to him, as she wasn’t certain as to the location of the Erabenimsun Tribe. He was surrounded by several Guars, whom wandered around chewing on what little vegetation there was. When she finally arrived to him, she took a moment to catch her breath her hands on her knees, as the Dunmer examined her indifferently.

“Forgive me, kind sera, but I’m looking for the Erabenimsun.” She asked politely.

“I am of the Tribe. What business have you with us, outlander.” He said neither politely, nor hostile.

“Forumus Officialis.” She said bluntly, as the Ashlander spat the leaf out of his mouth, and looked at her weaponry and glass armor more closely this time.

“You must speak with Ashkhan Han-Ammu, northwest of here perhaps half an hours walk. He will be willing to speak with you directly, do not concern yourself with tribal customs, if you have come to help, he will reward you.” Illath-Perenimus said quickly, pointing to the horizon, and gently nudging her with his hand on her shoulder.

Ibis ran once more, making the short trip in less the fifteen minutes. The stares of the red eyed Dunmer were filled with curiousity. Perhaps before the outlander Nerevarine had come, they would have spat at her, or attacked her. But under Han-Ammu’s wise rule, they had returned to their simple ways of farming and hunting.

Ibis smiled at expressionless faces as she entered into the yurt of the Ashkhan, new to his station, Han-Ammu was unconfident as to how to react to such a bold entry.

“Outlander, you, um. Show disrespect. You should leave and ask one of the gulakhans for an audience with me.” He said in a timid voice, intimidated by Ibis Armor, weapons, and beauty.

Ibis knelt before Han-Ammu, and put her head down. “My Lord Ashkhan, forgive my transgression. But I have come for Forumus Officialis, I was told to come to you directly by one of your herders.”

Han-Ammu’s eyebrows raised in surprise. This was surely a blessing from Azura! “You show respect, and you were wise not to speak to a gulakhan. I don’t wish my tribe to believe that I am incapable of handling this matter. I will reward any outlander, any Houseman, any Tribesman, whom may defeat the Abomination. Even the mighty Telvanni with there witch-warriors could not defeat the thing, the Redorans came from Molag Mar, in mighty formations, and all were killed. The Hlaalu will do nothing, as the thing does not threaten there trade or profit. The Legion refuses to face it after the two houses were defeated. They are here to fight us, not our problems. The Temple,…the temple is another matter. So much is in disarray after the coming of Nerevar Reborn.” Han –Ammu said with a grave tone.

“I will fight it. I will defeat it. I have come for a taste of vengeance, and I will be satisfied!” Ibis stated strongly.

Han-Ammu gave a slight smile, and nodded in approval. “You are brave. Perhaps a bit foolish. But that will be necessary to face the thing. You wish to know where it is?”

Ibis nodded with a serious look in her eyes.

“To find the thing, look in Tusenend, a Daedric Shrine to the Southeast of here. You will find death and destruction. I wonder if Forumus Offialis is not some Daedra of Mehrunes Dagon. But it is unlike anything of legend or experience. And my people have faced many Daedra before.”

Ibis nodded once more and she took her leave, she followed the directions of Han-Ammu, and ran to the reputed shrine. It was easy to find. There was the unmistakable architecture of the shrine, and then there were black marks on the ground where Buildings once stood, Rubble littered the ground, and bodies littered the landscape. There were Telvanni in robes, there were Redoran in Bonemold Armor, there were Ashlanders in there tribal dress, but there was one commonality. The bodies seemed merged with the stone itself, and the faces of all the dead were distorted, as though the features had melted.

There was also one more strange detail. There was no smell of death; decay hadn’t set in on these bodies, even though some of these bodies had to have been here for weeks at least, they seemed in a state of perfect stasis.


“FORUMUS OFFICIALIS!!” Ibis Raze screamed in a pure rage. “FACE ME NOW MONSTER!”

The sky grew dark, and lighting surged through a cloudless sky, a distortion swelled and grew in the air above Ibis, and from it descended a creature of nightmare. Its Electric Blue Eyes beheld the SpellSword, and it opened what could be called its mouth to speak.