Oasis 2, Free from Destiny. Options

[jack cloudy]

Here is the link to: Jack Cloudy's Other Stories


Ok, I've got to be crazy. Starting a third one before finishing the last two? Yeah, definitely crazy. More crazy than Tarhiel, Curio and M'Aiq combined. Ah well, I guess I can't be stopped. (Note to self: Make an Agent update tonight.)





Oasis 2: Free from Destiny.

The task I’d been sent to do had been finished. No, I hadn’t just been sent to do this, I’d been made for it in a quite literal way. Yes, that task was the only reason for my existence. Now that I’d completed it, what was left?

Anyone in my position would probably try to retire and live the remainder of his or her life at peace, preferably with the comfort of nearby friends. I had friends and I could retire easily enough. During the course of my life, I’d amassed a large amount of wealth, including a house big enough to accommodate a whole village. In fact, my house was a village. Then why did I leave? Why was I walking here at this moment, so far away from civilization?

The truth was, I couldn’t. I hadn’t realized at the time, but the reason why I fought was because my friends needed me as much as I needed them. I’d fought to protect them, to keep them near. Yet what should have been my moment of everlasting glory was my moment of defeat. I could no longer see those I considered friends. It would undo everything I’d done.

The sun began to sunk beneath the horizon and I sat down next to the nearest shrub. A small wisp of fire, and I had created a small circle of light to keep me company. The fire was bad company if it was the soul that required comfort instead of the body. Nothing opposed my train of thought. I relived the last moment, the moment it all became clear.

I stood on the slopes of a mountain. Beneath me, several tents had been placed in the ashcovered ground. People milled about like ants. Banners flapped in the gentle breeze. A smile crept across my face. These were the people of Vvardenfell, my people. Most were unknown faces to me but that didn’t matter. In the end, they were all a part of the island. And I would be their hero. Society had been at the brink of collapse but now, everything would be fine. The Houses had united, the Ashlanders received the respect they deserved. The time of politics and struggles for power had ended. There was nothing left to fight over. And I would be right in the middle of it all, basking in glory, everyone would call me their greatest hero. Like a child’s dream come true.

The smile vanished. It would not be fine. There was still something for them to fight over. Ironic as it might seem, that something was me. To win the favour of the land’s champion, the Houses would return to their internal strife, bloodier than before. Those around me would be the victim of it all, as they would be pulled into this conflict. Politics was a plague, hard to control. There was only one thing I could do to prevent this from happening. I would have to leave, vanish into myth.

And leave I did. I never even took the chance to properly say goodbye. I couldn’t say goodbye. If I tried, I would end up staying and make my nightmare into reality. It was a bit of an anti-climax. Whenever I thought about what would come after defeating my enemy, the only things I saw were scenes of fame, glory and perhaps even a bit of worship. I couldn’t let any of that happen though. It would be as destructive as having let him have his way.

Perhaps this is how the guy who killed Jagar Tharn felt after he’d claimed victory in the Imperial palace. He too left right after his greatest moment. To this very day, no one knows his name, or his race, or even his gender. I say guy, but it could have been a woman for all I know. I’ve heard a few stories, but they’re quite conflicting. Some talk about a Redguard pirate, some about an Imperial Battlemage much like Tharn himself, yet others about a scarred Orc or your stereotypical knight in shining armour. Then there are those who take it into the extremes, saying that this nameless champion was none other than Tiber Septim himself or Akatosh or a spirit of death or even a Goblin, though I seriously consider that last one a joke. Well I knew one thing for certain, Akatosh was not involved there. Because Akatosh, that’s me.

Whatever is the case, the champion vanished and I was about to follow his or her example. Where would I go? If I had taken the time to think, I would have concluded that leaving Tamriel entirely would have been best. The legendary continent of Akavir would be a great place for a fallen hero to hide. But I decided otherwise. Instead of going east to Akavir, I would go west, to the place where I was born, all the way on the other side of Tamriel. Despite my achievements, which happened to include the killing of a supposedly immortal being, my fame was still only local.

Hammerfell would be the perfect place to make a living. There, no one would care about Luper Alkad, Nerevarine, the godslayer. There I would be just another Redguard, albeit one who was in possession of several unique artefacts. Yes, Hammerfell would be perfect. But how to get there? Vvardenfell had been saved of the Blight, a horrible disease that turned everything it touched into a raving monster. There was the Corprus which was even worse but likewise, its threat had ended. Despite that, the island was still strictly quarantined. No one could enter or leave, at least not through legal channels.

I knew that there were plenty of smugglers and pirates. I could try to make contact with them, see if they were willing to transport me. While the idea appealed to me at first, I soon changed my mind. So far, the smugglers I met here were a lot more aggressive than the bunch that had raised me. I was unlikely to get a single word out of my mouth before I was parrying daggers, clubs and whatever they were using to kill people. No smugglers wouldn’t help.

I went through a few more ideas. I was too well-known among the mages and the independent ones were usually Necromancers who would rather have me as their next test subject than give me a quick teleport to the mainland. Buying, building or stealing a ship wouldn’t work. For one thing, ships weren’t for sale here and I would be hunted by the coast guard. Waterwalking might work, but I had no real idea of just how far it was to the mainland. It would be rather embarrassing to run out of Magicka and get devoured by Slaughterfish and Dreugh. In the end, I knew of only one organization that could give me a quick and secret way to the mainland. The Blades, the spy service of the Emperor himself.

I waited till dawn before continuing my trip across the island. I took my time because this would likely be the last time I would see Vvardenfell, the island that had become my home. There was a silent beauty in the Ashlands, now that the dreaded storms which plagued this region had fled. The transition from dry ash to a swamp teeming with life was quite sudden, only a single mountainous ridge between them. Like everything I saw, it brought back memories. Memories of fighting against slavery, getting my leg cracked by a Mudcrab. It had been less than two years, yet it felt like eternity separated Luper Alkad, the badmouthed prisoner who was all bark and no bite, from Luper Alkad, the badmouthed hero who is even more bite than he is bark.

I walked up to the nearest Mudcrab and placed a single hand underneath its shell. With a simple flip of the wrist, I threw it upside down and sent it sliding down a hill. It was a feat of incredible strength I wouldn’t even dare dream about in those early days. I’d definitely changed, beyond recognition. The everburning flame of the Lighthouse told me I was nearing my destination. Seyda Neen, where my journey began and where now a new journey would begin.

[jack cloudy]

The line dragged on. Two hours later, I was beginning to get seriously impatient.
,,Crap, did the whole of Tamriel got invited or something?” I mumbled and nudged Ro-El.
,,Yo, can you keep my spot for me? I’ve got to take a leak.” The Nord nodded and I walked away, wobbling from side to side for a bit. Man, I didn’t knew that walking without a big Claymore on your back or in your hands could be this hard.

Whenever I walked into the wrong places, which was apparently all the time, a guard would run in and order me to get back to the civil areas. By the time I’d found the bathroom, I was just about ready to toss the next guard to bark at me through the wall. The toilet was a dirty affair but I managed, after some quick Telekinetic cleaning.
,,Damn, they should put signs pointing at this place.” I muttered when I walked back out.

I heard a soft swishing sound. Half a moment later, my throat itched. I drew up my hand and encountered something hard, yet covered in something soft. I grabbed whatever it was and pulled it out. It was a blood-soaked feathered dart. Someone was trying to kill me again. I slumped to the floor, landing on my face.

A pair of black shoes entered the edge of my vision.
,,Think he’s dead?” A deep voice asked.
,,I don’t know. He killed the last two. It should be harder than this.” A second voice answered.
,,Yes, but the captain was so kind to take away his sword. That deal we made was a good one. Redguards are remarkably easy targets without their sword, take that from me.” A third voice added. Three assassins, at the minimum and if I recognized that particular type of shoe, they were Dark Brotherhood. And seeing that they’d already managed to hit me, sword or not, they were not as green as the last two. It looked as if playing hour was over.

,,Too bad for you that I’m no Redguard!” I shouted and leaped to my feet, hitting the assassin who had been standing over me with an uppercut. The masked man’s head jerked back and he flew back. I stroked across my throat with a finger and noted that my Magicka had done the trick. I had been lucky to get the idea to fall on my face so they couldn’t see me heal the wound. And making them think I was dead had been even better.

I took in the scene in a single moment. Somehow, the guards had vanished and three assassins had taken their places. I was unarmed and against professionals, I was not going to try hand-to-hand against them. I Skybolted over them while they were still surprised and landed behind a pillar where I pressed my back against it. Earlier I’d been annoyed at all the megalomaniacal architecture, but now I was grateful for this piece of cover.

,,Think, Lup, think. What would you do if your quarry is hiding behind a stone pillar?” I asked myself. A mental image of the pillar falling over under the influence of a Telekinetic shockwave popped up. I grinned and suppressed it. I knew I had a tendency for collateral damage, but what if this was a load-bearing pillar? Knocking down the local palace on my second day in the city would be a bit too much.
,,I’m not an assassin. Ok, another try.” This time, my mind brought up a scene closer to what the assassins were actually doing. I saw how the leader stood on the other side of the pillar, yet too far away to make me drop it on him. He was gesturing for his two accomplices to each move around the pillar from a different side and then attack me from two directions simultaneously.

I turned and looked at the stone pillar. If I wanted to get at them, I would have to disrupt their plans. To do that, I would have to take out the leader. But to do that, I would have to move around it. And no matter how I moved around it, I would always move right within the aim of an assassin. No, I couldn’t move myself. But I didn’t need to move. I knew I was running out of time. I pointed a finger at the pillar and focussed. A fireball grew, till it reached the size of my head. Then, it shrank suddenly till it was merely as large as a coin and shot out. Its concentrated force drilled a hole right through the stone, emerging on the other side of the pillar. I heard a scream and knew I’d hit my target. No pillar could stop a flamelance.

Right now, the two other assassins would be scrambling for cover. Here was my chance to pop out and start throwing stuff, like that ancient suit of armour that stood by the wall. I ran over to it, my head kept low, and heaved the heavy metal contraption off its stand.
,,What the?” I spun around towards the sound and hurled it away, right in the face of one assassin who had been in the process of aiming a dart.
,,Lifting ridiculously heavy objects. Catches them off-guard every time.” I commented and turned on the last one. He’d fled.

Now that the most immediate threat to my life had passed, I could actually think, and start asking questions. How did the Dark Brotherhood learn of my presence so quick? Was it the lady with the fake museum? The guy from Tel Uvirith, there weren’t many who matched that description. But one of them had mentioned a deal. They wouldn’t. But it was there, the calculating look at the mention of my name. The Imperial had known that name, yet not the face that matched it. He was involved with the Dark Brotherhood, somehow. When he walked away, he must’ve gone to inform them of my presence in Mournhold. But that fast? It was only possible if, the thought made my blood run cold, they had a base of operations here.
,,That filthy rotten captain guard of evil. I’ll give him a piece of my mind later.” I seethed. While thoughts of sweet vengeance were pleasant, there were more important issues to deal with right now. I had to clean up and hide two corpses. That would delay any alarms. Of course, with one escapee, I couldn’t expect this delay to be a long one.

I stuffed them down the toilet and added a large amount of fire. Hopefully, people would think that the toilets had been disinfected, not been the cremation-site of two dart-throwing throatslitters. I patched up the suit of armour as best as I could without any tools. The pillar was the only thing I couldn’t do anything about. But the hole was small, it was unlikely to be noticed.

I made my way back to Ro-El and stepped back in line. I’d decided not to tell him what had happened, not with all those ears that would be listening.