Corrupted heart. Options

[jack cloudy]

Alas, I couldn't wait for Agent to finish before I began my next story. Oh, curse me, all of you whose blood shall be spilled before this story comes to an end.

Ahem, I don't expect my loyal readers to complain though. Heh, I hope I managed to portray the first of my main characters nicely. And one last thing that might be interesting to know. This story takes place before the birth of Luper. So yes, that means at least 23 years before any of my other stories. Now, without further stalling I present:


Corrupted heart.

Chapter 1: Among the cold dirt, the fallen lie.

Consciousness flickered, remaining just out of reach. His senses delivered their messages to his clouded mind, broken fragments of a greater whole. The sound of heavy boots hammering cold rock, the smell of dust in his nose, the feeling of being carried in a boneshattering grip. A taste, plaguing the tip of his tongue. Blood, his blood.

The feeling of movement stopped. Words now echoed in his ears, words he did not comprehend.
,,This looks good enough. Open the door.” The shriek of rusted metal being moved ripped through the haze clouding his mind. Now consciousness returned fully and with it, a chance. For a moment, he continued to feign unconsciousness. Long enough to hear more words, words not meant for him.
,,You, don’t move unless you want even greater problems.” The hands holding him pushed him along. His tail brushed against iron bars. Now was the time.

With the frightening grace of a natural killer, his muscles sprang back to full readiness. He used the body of his captor to swing around, somersaulting into the air and landing on the unfortunate man’s back. With a quick swipe, claws ripped out the man’s throat and crushed his neck. Even before the man began to lose his signs of life, the killer had leapt away. The next guard found himself smashed against the iron bars of the cell. Claws leaving a trail of blood in the air where the last thing the man saw before his eyes were removed. He too died soon afterwards. The whole event had taken less than a second from start to finish.

Breathing heavily from both his exertion and the rough treatment he’d received earlier, the killer stared down at his latest victims. In a slow symbolic movement, he raised his claws and licked them clean of blood, savouring the taste. His ears began to pick up the sound of distant boots coming steadily closer. A standard patrol. His hand snatched the nearby torch from the wall and he slammed the piece of wood into a dusty pool of water. There was a large cloud of smoke and then, darkness.

Even though there was practically no light left, his eyes still saw as good as if he was standing outside on a clear day. He quickly scanned the nearby cells. The one which had been destined for him was already occupied by the short stature of a Bosmer. The one directly on the opposite side of the tunnel was occupied by a muscular Dunmer who looked around warily, not seeing a thing. The killer took a double take on the two beings. While the Dunmer displayed all the expected signs of fear, the Bosmer surprisingly acted as if she hadn’t noticed the massacre at all. She just looked at the ground in front of her bare feet with a blank stare.
,,Must have lost its mind so deep underground.” The Killer concluded. He knew from experience that many Bosmer were extremely claustrophobic and hated being in a room without any windows or underground. A natural result from living in the treetops of Valenwood.

The boots had now gotten close. Soon, the owner of these boots would see the darkness ahead and know that something was wrong. By then though, it would be too late. The Killer crouched at the edge of the darkness, confident in the natural camouflage he had. Now the guard ventured into view and the killer’s heart skipped a beat. This was no guard. The fingers of fear reached out for him, embracing him with their cold touch. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt since childhood. The darkness in the tunnel was vanquished by a bright burst of light. With that same burst, the light in his eyes faded and he slipped into unconsciousness once more.

An armoured boot stomped on the ground beside his head.
,,You’ve missed your chance. Enjoy the blood you’ve claimed. They were your last kill.” A gruff voice said as the killer was picked up and taken to his cell.

[jack cloudy]

Well, I've been following the teasers quite closely. Ra'trith is the one who tried to assassinate the emperor, Rajn is that guide in Valenwood and Aran is the Ashlander who stopped a Nord's axe with his hand and then killed his sponsor a minute after the battle.



Aran watched as the gates were lowered. He stepped into the arena, carefully avoiding the sharp tips at the top of the gate which had now sunk into the ground. Ghorak walked to the center of the arena.
,,Listen, this match is private! There is no crowd! The winner receives a thousand septims, paid in solid coins. First one to admit defeat loses! Try not to kill. Begin!”

The Dunmer did not move as the Orc retreated to the edge of the pit. He let his eyes wander over the Redguard who was his opponent, analyzing his strengths and weaknesses. He began with the man’s race, a Redguard. Then, his eyes wandered down to the weapon, a katana held loosely in his right hand. Next, the armour, a suit of overlapping Bronze scales.

The Redguard was getting impatient. He’d moved to the center of the arena, expecting Aran to do the same thing. Yet, Aran was still standing at the gate.
,,What’s the matter with you? Lost your guts? If you’re afraid to fight me, you shouldn’t have stepped into the ring.” The man shouted across the distance.
,,I can’t blame you though. A spear is a two-handed weapon, impossible to use with just one. Come on, why don’t you step out while you have the chance? I won’t tell your girl about it. If you have one. Not much chance with such an ugly face.” He continued.

Aran’s eyes narrowed.
,,Overconfident, impatient and jumps to conclusions. Furthermore, he tries to bolster his own courage by insulting the opponent. Pathethic.”
He continued to wait till the Redguard had lost all patience and charged him.
,,Stupid fool! If you don’t want to admit your defeat, I’ll make you!” That comment brought a smile on the Dunmer’s lips. The Redguard looked surprised by this reaction and slowed down a little.
,,As planned. Now, to make my move.”
Aran stepped aside and swung his spear around above his head. At the last moment, he flicked the shaft around with his fingers till the spear was pointing down. A loud ringing sound echoed across the arena when the katana bounced off the weapon. He brought the spear back into an horizontal position and trust the butt into the Redguard’s stomach, sending him down on his knees.

Aran brought his spear’s blade down to the man’s throat.
,,A warrior hides his strength with an illusion of weakness. Remember this, or you’ll never win a battle.” He spoke solemnly. He pressed the blade against the Redguard’s throat.
,,Do you admit defeat?” Aran asked.
,,Yes.”


Erinus was humming an old tune. Her patient was still unconscious but she knew from experience that it wouldn’t last much longer. When the Bosmer woke up, she would have to explain the situation. She heard someone knocking on the door and got out of her chair to see who it was this time.
,,I hope it’s Aran. He’d better not come back in pieces.”

The visitor was not Aran. Rather, he was an Argonian whose red scales matched his red clothes.
,,Good day to you. I hope I do not disturb you?” It spoke in an odd hissing accent. Its expressionless eyes glanced at the Bosmer lying in the hut’s only bed. Erinus looked at her patient as well.
,,No, you don’t disturb. How may I help you?”

Without a word, the Argonian took the woman by the arm and led her out of her home.
,,It’s not safe to talk here. We’ll talk there, behind the bushes. It is an important matter that concerns all of us.” He spoke. While Erinus could not read the strange creature’s expressions, she felt that it meant her no harm. So she followed, although she was slightly concerned about leaving her patient.
,,I believe that this is far enough. No one will hear us here, as long as we keep our voices down.” She finally whispered.

The Argonian turned to her.
,,I am known as Marsh-Speaker. You may call me Marsh. I need your help, lady Codius. The matter concerns the Emperor, whose health I fear.” He whispered, still in his peculiar accent. Now Erinus knew what caused this accent.
,,Its mouth is not shaped for our kind of speech. Just that it can speak comprehensible words is an achievement. To speak this well, he must have lived among us for a long time.”
,,I heard nothing about his health and even if there were problems, he has his own private healer for that.” She answered, hiding her own doubts with a confident voice. He’d made some odd decisions lately.
,,I know, but his own healer would not speak to me. Lady Codius, I do not ask of you to cure him or even to get involved. All I want to know is this, has the Emperor done strange things in your opinion?”

The healer shrugged.
,,I suppose he does. But I’m a healer, not a politician. How can I judge his decisions?” She asked Marsh-Speaker in return. The Argonian nodded, another habit he’d learned from the humans and elves that surrounded him.
,,True, but I am a politician so I can judge him. I’m telling you, the Emperor acts as if he is an entirely different person. I don’t know the soul of a man. Therefore I came to you, for advice.”


Back at the shack, a pair of pitchblack eyes opened. They squinted as they tried to make sense of the blurry image. The image cleared, revealing a wooden ceiling.
,,Cut up trees, barbaric.” Rajn thought to herself and managed a weak chuckle.
,,They probably think the same thing of me. The city people call the forest people barbarians, the forest people call the city people barbarians as well.”
Her eyes shot wide open and her mouth formed a soundless ‘oh’.
,,This isn’t that stupid jail. There’s a window, air! I’m above ground! I feel so happy, I could hug a tree.”

She tried to sit upright but fell down before she’d even managed to lift her head above the pillow.
,,My leg hurts. Next time I meet a dog, I’m going to kick it so hard, it thinks its ribs are floating above its head. I wonder where the Dunmer is? Or where I am, for that matter.”
She yawned.
,,Who cares, not my problem. Maybe I’ll worry about it tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Maybe never.” Already, she’d used up her strength. She drifted off into sleep before she’d even realized.