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]

Yeah, it's a relatively new rule. Ever since we had an invasion of certain unwanted elements who wanted a datingsite or something. Anyway, you've got the required number of posts now and I've seen that you make good use of your topic starting powers.

Anyway, back to the story. This update marks the end of chapter 2. I noticed that the chapters are a bit short here but I don't mind. Normally I totally forget to change chapters which gets kind of annoying after a while. Well then, enjoy.




Dust floated through the air in the attic, lit by a few rays of light that passed through the various cracks in the roof. A soft squeaking was the only sound that originated from inside the attic. It was nearly drowned out by the noise from the streets outside. A new sound, one of parting air. Then, the squeeking was abruptly cut off by a loud thump.

Ra’trith opened his eyes as he woke up. He looked at the death rat he held in his paw.
,,Breakfast is served.” He thought slightly amused and ate the rat raw, skin and all. He licked the blood off of his claws and leaned against a wooden beam as he replaced his sleep with a light nap. Those who knew him might have noticed that the snarl on his face was one of his more rare ones. This snarl was not one of anger, or bloodlust, or savage pleasure. This was one of worry.
,,Vincente. Out of all people, why you?”

The tiny hut was covered in darkness, shadow upon shadow. A heavy smell filled the air, a smell that had a profound effect on the two sole living inhabitants. To one of them, this smell was a part of his everyday life. To the other, it was a new smell. Full of mystery and hidden promise. To him, this smell was unknown though he would become intricately familiar with it over the following years. It was the smell of blood.

The one who knew this smell bent down over a still form in the middle of the room. With a pale hand that shone in the moonlight, he gripped the hilt of a cruel dagger and wrenched it free from its victim. There was a soft wheeze when the blade was withdrawn from the Khajiit’s lung. Then, the Khajiit abandoned this world forever. The pale hand stabbed the dagger into the other forms systematically till its owner had assured himself that the entire Khajiit family had died.

The dagger was brought up to a mouth. A tongue, as pale as the hand, licked the blade clean of blood.
,,Fresh blood, delicious.” The man spoke. He looked upon the gruesome scene and smiled, proud of a job well done.
,,Sithis will be pleased. Well then, it’s time to leave. I want to be out of this forsaken desert before the sun rises.” He whispered to himself, sheathed his dagger and stepped over the pile of corpses towards the entrance.

Unexpectedly, a sharp pain stabbed through his ankle. Annoyed, he looked down. There was nothing visible in the darkness of the hut. Only a row of tiny white teeth glistened as they dug deeper into his flesh. A pair of bright yellow eyes opened and bore into his. The man reached for his dagger again to kill the young Khajiit when something else caught his eye. Numerous little sparks of light danced around the small creature’s claws. When one spark touched the man’s foot, he screamed out in pain.

Instantly, the silence outside was ripped apart. Voices shouted, rusty iron was drawn out of leather scabbards. The man bent down and grabbed the Khajiit around the neck. He pulled the child away from his foot and held it up in front of his face.
,,Now look what you’ve done. I’d hoped to do this without being discovered.” He whispered hatefully. His expression softened somewhat, turning into a calculating one.
,,Hmm, your will is unusual. A child, barely a few months old and already you’ve achieved a level most Redguards can only dream about. And your fur, it’s the perfect camouflage during the night. Finally, you show the desire to kill.” He wrapped his cloak around the little bundle of fur.
,,Yes, I think that training you will be very profitable.” He spoke, louder this time. He then burst out of the hut and vanished into the night, dashing past the confused Khajiit before they knew what was among them.

Ra’trith awoke from his nap.
,,You took me with you to Cheydinhall and taught me every trick you know.” He spoke without a sound. He looked at his claws.
,,Yet somewhere during your training, I lost the ability to form the sparks that caused you so much pain. Was this a deliberate action on your part? I was more dangerous to you then than I am now. Did you make me lose that talent so I would be unable to hurt you?”

He got up and stretched his muscles.
,,I’ll relearn it. Only better this time. You will die Vincente, and I will be the bringer of your doom.” He promised. Ra’trith then wrapped his black cloak around him and climbed onto the roof from where he could lower himself into an alley. He walked swiftly across the street. His plan was to leave the city as soon as possible. It would really surprise him if he wasn’t a wanted man yet, especially in the city where he nearly claimed the Emperor’s life.

A large group of people had gathered in front of one particular wall. The Khajiit walked over to join them and looked at the large Wanted notice pinned to the wall. He grinned in amusement.
,,Why did they drew my ears so big? What do they think I am, a rabbit?” He stopped grinning when a pair of Bretons pointed at him and began to whisper amongst themselves, obviously under the illusion that he hadn’t noticed them. Ra’trith calmly walked over to them.
,,Is something the matter?” He asked with his most pleasant voice. The effect was still better suited to instil fear than to cause a feeling of friendliness.

,,Oh no, not at all. We were just looking at the picture up there and noticed that your fur colour shows some resemblance. Just a coincidence, we’re sure.” The couple told him nervously. Around them, a gap was created which made the Bretons even more nervous. Ra’trith gave them one of his favourite snarls.
,,Just a coincidence indeed. That sketch is so wrong. The ears are to big for one thing and those eyes, much too far apart. The information they’ve put underneath is far from sufficient as well. They forgot the destruction of the shrine of Talos.” He told them, looking them in the face. His nose caught the heavy smell of their fear.

He leaned in closer.
,,Now I would be more than willing to kill you. However, I am on a tight schedule and don’t have time to loiter and enjoy the simple pleasures of murder. If you value the life of your guardsmen, you won’t send them after me. Have a nice day.” He whispered in their ear and walked away through the crowd.


,,And here’s the Roseworks office. From here, you should be able to get a ride with a caravan to Valenwood.” Erinus said and hugged the little Bosmer.
,,Good luck.” She added.
,,Sure, thanks for the leg again. Bye.” Rajn replied and went inside.

The Roseworks office was dimly lit by only a few candles, creating large and deep shadows. Rajn closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly, still standing in the doorframe. While she wasn’t on the verge of panicking anymore, she still suffered from claustrophobia. Having calmed her mind, she walked over to the counter and leaned heavily on the wood. The girl wrinkled her nose as she caught sight of the large amount of wood that had been used in the interior.
,,Barbarians.”

An aging Imperial with a really big nose looked up from his notebook.
,,Can I help you?” He asked with the bored voice of a man who only offered to help because he got paid for it.
,,I want to book passage to Valenwood.” The Bosmer replied uneasily. The bored tone combined with the dark shadows and the heavy use of wood made her nervous.

With deliberately slowed movements, the clerk retrieved a map of Valenwood from the rack behind him.
,,Where exactly in Valenwood?” He inquired.
,,Anywhere, though Fallinesti would be best.” Rajn answered with a shrug. Now the Imperial picked up a quill and began to fill in a form.
,,This form will grant you permission to join our caravans. Just show it to the caravan master and you’ll be on your way before you know it. What’s your name?”

,,Rajn Treesap.” The clerk retreated into a back room, muttering something about placing a stamp on the form. From one of the shadows behind the Bosmer came an Argonian whose red scales matched his red clothes.
,,Step outside.” He ordered the girl. When she didn’t respond immediately, he revealed a dagger and pressed the tip against her back.
,,Now.” He hissed with a heavy accent.