The Temple of Lore, Works of the Schola Options

[Black Hand]

This thread is for the stories of the members of Order of the Schola, for any questions you may have please click on the following link.

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=3495

ANYTHING that is not a story or poem or whatever should be posted on the link that was just provided. Thank you, not trying to be mean, just trying to keep our sacred temple clean. Now then, an explanation.

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The Temple of Lore is a sacred sanctum of tomes, dreams, thoughts, abstracts, histories, stories, poems, and the written word.

It exists in the twilight, between reality and fantasy, it embraces all forms and images that attempt to define it. It is perception, and the perciever.

There exists an order of men, commonly known to the masses as the Writers Guild, more accurately called the Order of the Schola who have mastered this twilight abstract in the form of storytelling, they alone have the power to transcend to the Temple of Lore, and contibute and take from its threads of knowledge.

They exist amongst us as Journalists, Bards, Old Men sitting on a porch with a glass of lemonade recanting old experiences. If you ask nicely, and your lucky to find the chosen few, a Schola can breathe life into any illusion, any thought.

[Taillus]

Here is my first story as a member of the Writer's Guild. For now, I will just use my short story set in the Elder Scrolls universe before straying to something different. Hope you all like it, please let me know what you think, good or bad.

Blood is Thicker

Allentus was not pleased with the life lined out for him, predefined before he was even born. Allentus was one of those children quoted to have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. A child slated to be heir to the throne of Kvatch and take after his father Hector. Allentus was unhappy with the thought of being handed power. To be handed something makes one weak as far as the youth was concerned and would rather write his own name in the sand as opposed to someone scribing for him.

Allentus was a strong disbeliever of the word fate and what it stood for and rather believed in a man being able to take the road less traveled if one so chose and with that, he packed up some belongings and left home. At the fresh age of fourteen, the young Imperial thought he had life figured out. He was off to the Imperial City to make it big as an adventurer and as soon as he could save or steal enough for equipment he would be off, living the carefree life as a freelance adventurer.

The youth practically salivated over the chance to be his own boss. No one to tell him how to properly behave and no one to tell him what was and wasn't gentlemanly. Allentus was going to have his name in the history books as the most daring, handsome and wealthy cave raider any one has ever known and he would do it all under his own pretences, with no one helping him.

Sadly, the fairytale was short lived and made rudely aparent to the child when the unforgiving streets of the Market District in Imperial City made an example of him. Allentus picked the pocket of the wrong man landing him in jail, and since the man had many friends in high places, Allentus went to prison a boy and exited a twenty year old man. Time and prison was not kind to Allentus who now sported a dungeon tan and a bad attitude. Seemingly not learning a thing from his time in prison, Allentus traveled to the Feed Bag in the Market District to drown himself in some strong liquor and make a hasty retreat before they realized he was as poor as a skooma addict...


Continued in part 2