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]

Hmm, I don't hold the record at postmachining though. (Heh, it has evolved into a word of its own. Cool.)
Anyway, it's time for some fun!







The day had ended and now the moons dominated the skies. As the warmth of the day fled the land, the night reached out with its cold fingers. Cyrodiil’s citizens had fled into their homes. Where during the day one had to shout to get over the chorus of countless voices, now one could hear the rustle of a leaf falling. Guards patrolled the empty streets with torches in their hand.

The guards were not the only ones out on the streets. A cloaked man moved carefully from shadow to shadow, a spear tied to his back. The light of a torch gave away the approach of a guard. The man made himself as small as possible and waited till the guard had passed. After that, he dashed across the plaza and jumped down the well, using the hanging rope to control his descent.

Ra’trith stood on the walls of an abandoned fort. Beneath him, the corpses of a goblin tribe were littered around the courtyard. He was facing west, towards Cheydinhall.
,,Vincente.” He breathed into the wind. He turned to the east. He could just see the walls of Chorrol on the horizon.
,,I’ll go east, far away from here. Perhaps to Hammerfell. The Dark Brotherhood must be willing to take me in. My skills are too valuable for them to let go.”

On the southern side of the city, a rope fell down from the city wall. Marsh looked around.
,,The coast is clear. Get down there.” He told his Bosmer companion. Rajn wasted no time in sliding down the rope. Marsh followed once she was clear. He left the rope hanging from the walls and led the way to the sewer entrance. The entrance itself was a large circular opening in the rocky island with a grating to keep out any unwanted guests. Trash, organic waste and a few fish completed the scene. Beyond the opening, there was only darkness.

The Argonian retrieved a small key from his pocket and removed the lock on the grating, making sure he didn’t cause any noise. With his care to remain silent, it took over a minute before he’d swung the grating open far enough to pass through. He slipped through and waited on the other side for Rajn. The Bosmer took a step back and fiddled nervously with an arrow.
,,I don’t want to go in there. Last time I nearly got killed.” She said with a quivering voice. Marsh stood motionless for a moment, his eyes lighting up red in the darkness. He then nodded.
,,As you wish. Stay outside then and make sure that no one enters the sewers.” He whispered and was about to venture into the darkness when he felt a hand tugging at his sleeve.
,,Just why do you keep me around?” Rajn asked. She felt much more confident now that she didn’t had to face the sewers.

,,To tell you the truth, I don’t know. It simply….felt like the best plan at the time. Now be quiet, I might be gone for a while.” He pulled himself free and vanished. Behind him, the circle of light that was the exit shrank rapidly and soon it vanished completely when he rounded a corner.

Marsh slowed down. He strained his ears, trying to catch another sound beyond the slow dripping of water. Nothing. He brought his hands in front of his face.
,,Ocsdros, Jike bei.” He chanted softly. After the dark smoke had evaporated, he was truly invisible in the darkness. He gently lowered himself into the water till he was completely submerged.
,,Second passage, right. Continue till the waterflow reverses. Take the first passage to the left three times.” He had memorized the directions from his earlier visit and could quite literally find his destination with his eyes closed. His tail swept from side to side and propelled him forwards underwater.

After a short swim, the tunnel appeared to come to an abrupt end. He rose out of the water as slow as he entered it, to prevent any sound. This far away from the entrance, the only source of light would be an artificial one. Marsh took out his staff and held it above his head. As the orb at the tip began to glow, his eyes began to see. He was standing in front of a solid wall. Or rather, what looked like a solid wall. The Argonian stepped forward till his snout nearly touched the bricks. Then, he stepped through the illusion, feeling a tingling sensation run down his spine.

The light from his staff filled the small tomblike chamber. This was exactly what this place was. A tomb. On a crude altar lay the rotten corpse of someone. The flesh had been effected so much by the process of decay that it was impossible to tell race or even gender. With a slight snort of revulsion, the Argonian put laid a hand on the corpse’s heart. His hand and his entire body appeared to gleam with a white light as he chanted his spell.
,,Mertar, Bile hert, gert, oise.” The light focussed under his hand. He stepped back and watched how the shining sphere began to grow and change shape.

Arms grew from its sides, its lower side became a pair of delicate feet hidden by a swirling translucent dress. Finally, a head formed on top. What was first a sphere of Magicka was now the ghostly illusion of a beautiful yet troubled woman. Marsh knelt in front of the altar.
,,Lady Silmane, I apologize for this disturbance. I know that your powers are limited.” He apologized to the unearthly being. The woman gave him a friendly smile.
,,Don’t worry yourself. I know you would never come without a good reason. I believe I know your reason for coming and disturbing my slumber.”

Her face grew sad.
,,It has been weeks since we opened the door to the Champion’s cell. It saddens me to tell you, but he no longer walks this world. Talin, my old friend, died. With his death, the threads of prophecy have been severed. Now Tamriel is truly lost.” A tear ran down her ethereal face. Marsh didn’t notice. He was shocked by the news and simply stared ahead with blank eyes.
,,The Champion, the chosen one. Death? Now who will destroy the traitor? If the hero is gone, then who can take his place?”

Only after a long time did he regain knowledge of his surroundings. With a brusque motion, he picked up his staff which he’d put against the wall earlier.
,,I’ve been here for too long. Just tell me, quickly, is there another way? Another man to take his role, another Champion to finish what he started? Please, lady Silmane. Tell me.” He whispered urgently. Silmane shook her head.

,,I don’t know everything. How would that be possible, if it was I who was foolish enough to be in love with the traitor till the moment he struck me down? I only know of one way to find your answer.” She held out a hand. In her palm, a key took form, a key inscribed with runes in a language that was no longer used by the living. Marsh held out his own scaly hand and caught it the moment it became solid enough to fall through the ghost’s hand.
,,There is an old passage into the palace. You must remember it from our explorations when we were children. You must go there and find a way to the blind monks. They have not yet been corrupted. They’ll help you. Ask them your question. Perhaps the scrolls will reveal your path. Farewell, I hope you’ll remain safe.” The ghost of Silmane dissolved. Marsh looked at the key in his hand and placed it inside his pocket.
,,I will succeed, lady. I will, for the sake of Tamriel.”

He turned around and stepped through the illusion once more. The light cast by his staff reflected on polished steel. A black hand flashed into his sight before hitting him on the snout. As he fell backwards through the illusionary wall, he dropped his staff and the orb shattered on the hard floor, thereby removing the only source of light. Marsh saw nothing. With one hand, he clutched his bruised head. The other, he held outstretched in a useless attempt to ward of his assailant.
,,I’ve gotten careless. This might end with my death. No, I can’t!” He thought frantically, trying to find a way to escape. He heard the sound of a sword leaving its scabbard.