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.

[The Metal Mallet]

Well instead of a new Bloodlust update I decided to release a preview of something I might be planning to work on in the future. Hopefully writing this will help with the writer's block I'm currently experiencing with Bloodlust. As I'm not much of a boat person, hopefully I don't mistake any boat lingo that I used. Please feel free to correct me if you know I'm mixing up something or if there's a more appropriate word for a certain part of a boat.

Anyways, here's the preview:


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A cool, salty breeze flew around me as I stood on the deck of Hircine’s Wrath. Surrounding me was nothing but the sparkling crests of waves and the islands Zarifel Bay. The breeze rustled a gentle tune against the sails, the waves crashing against the hull complimenting it by providing a beat. It was a beautiful day to be out at sea to say the least.

While Zarifel Bay was known to be one of the colder seas to travel in, summertime stole the chilling effects and provided me with comfortable weather to travel in. All I needed were my pair of baggy trousers and my light, double-breasted coat. And of course my cap. What’s a Captain if he does not wear a cap?

“Captain Yves?” a sailor from the crow’s nest called out.

“Yes, that’s my name,” I replied with a grin.

“Sails off portside,” he called back.

I pointed to the helmsman who intuitively knew to begin swing the boat towards the ship. I looked back up to the crow’s nest.

“Care to identify what type of boat lies out there?”

It took the sailor a few moments of studying before he whooped aloud. “It’s definitely a merchant’s ship, Captain. It’s alone too. I see no other sails!”

I started dry washing my hands. A habit of mine when I knew an altercation was on the horizon. “Prepare to board, chaps!”

Sailors around me started whooping for joy as they eagerly retrieved weaponry and other equipment necessary to board a ship. Fanaelin, my Altmer mage approached my side.

“Of what use would you have of me?” her passive voice asked.

I placed a ringed hand upon her shoulder. “For now, stay by my side. I think the boys can take care of this boat this time. If there is another mage on board though, your help would certainly be appreciated,” I replied smugly as those around me prepared for the upcoming event.

The sailor on the crow’s nest started cackling. “Looks like they smell something fishy. They’re attempting to sail away from us.”

“No boat can out sail Hircine’s Wrath once she gets going,” I said, quoting my mantra. I am very proud of my boat’s capabilities.

“Right you are Cap’n!”

As the merchant’s ship grew in perspective my hand began to caress the hilt of my cutlass. The only possession of mine that didn’t display elegance, my cutlass was a simple bone handle with quality steel serving as the blade. Oh yes, and there’s also a deteriorate weapon enchantment placed upon it. There’s almost nothing more amusing in a fight than to see the dismay on an opponent’s face when they witness their weapon falling apart before their eyes. The appearance of my blade only helped mislead anybody willing to take on Captain Dramon Yves.

Still, even though I possess a unique weapon (of which I’m very capable in using), I still have suffered trials and tribulations in my quest to become a Captain of recognition. Most men and mer would brand me a pirate, but I am far more than that. I’m an entrepreneur. It just so happens that I deal in stolen goods. Merely coincidence I assure you.

Moments later, my men had grappling hooks attached to the merchant’s ship and quickly boarded. I calmly walked upon the deck of the merchant’s ship and looked upon the captives.

“Greetings, I am Captain Dramon Yves and I have decided that the goods upon this ship are now a part of the Yves Trading Goods Company. I hope that none of you oppose this?”

One of the captives spat at my feet. “Curse you! You damned Redguard!” he said, the hatred vivid in his eyes.

I looked down at the saliva resting close to my feet before moving closer to the captive. “And who might you be?” I asked quietly, bring my face inches from his face.

“I am the Captain of this ship!” he raged.

I recoiled backwards at the outburst and stood at my full height once more. “Well then…” I said slowly as I withdrew my cutlass, “I’m quite sure you said you’re name was ‘Deadman’ so it only sounds reasonable to make things more realistic.”

I plunged my sword into the Captain’s chest, causing the man’s eyes to bulge. The light in his eyes quickly faded away before he slumped against the blade. Distastefully, I removed the blade.

“Toss him overboard,” I ordered indifferently. My men quickly complied.

My eyes scanned over the captives once more. More fear was apparent this time. “Now, is there anymore smart mouthed sailors willing to test their testicular fortitude?” I asked awaiting an answer. After a few moments of silence I smiled. “Good. Because to tell you the truth, I hate killing. Really I do. There’s just so many more reasonable ways to solve a problem and yet you people force me to take the route of the brute. Ha!” I started laughing at my little rhyme.

“Leave them enough rations and supplies for them to make it to the next town, which I believe would be Tel Mora. Take everything else,” I instructed my men before walking back onto my deck. As I walked across a plank joining the two boats I happened to notice a small path of crimson in the water. I sighed. It wouldn’t be long until the sea dispersed the spot. The sea is perhaps the best cleaner in the world for it takes entire legions of mer or men to die for any true remnants of blood to remain in the water.

But enough of my morbid thoughts. I had cargo to investigate.