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.

[jack cloudy]

And the second teaser.


Two souls made their way trough the dark forest. Among them was the thick scent of decay. Fallen leaves and death plants had turned the forest floor into a steaming swamp that not even an Argonian would appreciate. Even though the sun shone overhead, it seemed almost night below the endless cover of leaves. The shortest of the two hopped from root to root, avoiding the halfdecayed layer of death vegetation with practised ease. The other was forced to trudge through the kneedeep mess. His face was deformed into a masque of barely contained anger. He too had tried to jump from root to root but soon discovered that such a feat was harder than it looked. Now he was covered from head to toe in the slimy mass of death plants. That was two days ago. By now, he would have killed for a bath.

An invisible animal roared somewhere in the forest around them. The short person stopped, gripping her bow for a moment and straining her ears. Satisfied, the Bosmer continued as if nothing had happened. The man followed his guide, not in the least worried about whatever was out there, hidden by countless trees. As his mood became increasingly sour, his willingness to pretend any form of fear had diminished. As they continued, the man became aware of a different scent, a scent that rivalled the scent of decaying plants in intensity. It was a scent that was not native to this world. The scent of Oblivion.

Once more, the Bosmer stopped though not because of a predator lurking among the trees. She jerked a thumb into the direction they’d been travelling.
,,The outskirts are about three hours away. Have fun.” She said and began to walk away in the opposite direction. The man stopped her impatiently.
,,Wait here. I need you to get me back out of here. If I’m not back in five days, you may leave.” He urged. The Bosmer gave him a calculating look.
,,Five days, that is ten coins a day. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty coins.”

The man swallowed back a sigh. For a barbaric tribe of cannibals, those Bosmer drove a hard bargain. A hard bargain in her opinion. In reality, escort jobs like this were worth a hundred coins a day back in civilized lands. In the end, he came out cheaper than expected.
,,Fine.” He said and walked in the direction of his destination. This time it was the Bosmer who stopped the man.
,,Pay up front.”

The man turned to face his stubborn guide.
,,Why?” He merely asked.
,,You’re likely to die there. I’m not going to sit here for nothing.” This time he failed to suppress a sigh. If he paid now, nothing would keep her from leaving without waiting. If he didn’t pay, he could be sure to see her leave.
,,I’ll give you half now and half when I come back and see you kept your word.” There was a short break in negotiations while both parties tried to figure out how far they could go.
,,Deal, half up front.”

Three and a half hours later, the man had found what he was looking for. Partially obscured by the roots of an ancient tree, he saw a pit into the ground and more importantly, the pit was illuminated by a reddish glow. Without hesitation, he slipped between the roots and ventured underground. Barely ten steps inside, he met a guardian, the first of many. The Skeleton lashed out with a Claymore covered in rust. Undisturbed, the man erected a barrier to protect him. When the old weapon it the barrier, it crumbled to dust.
,,Why don’t you turn to dust as well?” There was the flare of a spell. When the blast cleared, the Skeleton was nothing more but a few charred bits lying on the floor.

,,Such a disappointing foe. I’ll have to leave some decent replacements when I leave.” The man muttered as each guardian he met fell to the same spell. The pit lead him into a maze no mortal had wandered since the first era. At the end of the maze was his target, an altar guarded by four Atronachs. He looked at the Daedric minions and smiled. Finally a worthy protection.
,,I won’t destroy you. Rather, you will continue to serve as you’ve done till now.” He spoke to the floating collections of rock struck by lightning as he paralyzed them one by one. He walked up to the altar and casually swiped the sword off of it. The blade clattered on the stone floor, causing the rotten sheath to crumble. The man froze and looked at his reflection in the sword’s shining blade.

He bend down and touched it, barely able to believe it was real.
,,Chrysamere. What brought this weapon here? It hasn’t been seen since the first era. Why did it return now?” He wondered. As sudden as he’d swiped it off the altar, he stood up again and reached into his sack.
,,No matter, I have no use for the Paladin’s sword. Now rest here, great weapon. No one should ever be able to find you.” He spoke solemnly as he laid his object on the altar. He swiftly left, never to look back.

It took him a single day to return. He’d been gone for three days in total, with most of his time spent in the maze. To his surprise, the Bosmer was waiting for him. He paid her without a word and followed as she lead him back to civilization. Or at least, what the Bosmer saw as civilization.