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]

Alright, explanation time!

1: Revan didn't simply dodge the rules, he circumvented them entirely! The Dark Narynn's ability to merge with the shadows is something different than the common forms of Magicka. Maybe Almalexia could have blocked it, if she knew what to look for.

2:The recall and intervention spells have been added to wire the plot together. Nowhere has Luper used them around Mour....Crap, he did use them! He used recall once to return to Ro-El's place after annoying the Royal guards! Dammit! (got to explain, got to explain.) Umm, Almalexia is nuts and the no recall/intervention rule was added at midnight because she had a bad dream. Yeah, that's it. See, it all makes sense.

3: Chrysamere is....around. Yes, around. *Dammit, text doesn't allow for a mysterious tone the way I want it to.*

4: As for Luper having troubles against Revan, he was without Chrysamere for one thing and the odds where stacked against him for another anyway. That said, I do have a powerup planned for good ol Lup. Can't say any more of it, though.

Now that I've done that and basked in the compliments, let's bash lore entirely! MUHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!.......cough....... *Why do I always get into coughing while doing the evil laugh, why?!*





I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel any air around me, couldn’t feel ground beneath my feet. My blood rose to my head and my innards seemed to be all tied into a knot. Worst of all, I simply couldn’t see. It was more than the absence of light. It was as if I’d developed the need for sight but never developed eyes to see with. It was downright horrible. But somehow, I didn’t die. The lack of air was horrible and my body screamed for it, but I didn’t die. It was surreal, like a dream. More like a nightmare.

Without any warning, words suddenly appeared before me. Words made out of sparkles without any colour I could reasonably describe. The colour looked like all colours combined yet no colour at all. I frowned at the ‘sight’. I couldn’t read it either. It looked Daedric though. And I could feel the word’s essence. It was Magicka. Once I’d realized that, I put my observation to the test and drew some of my own. While otherwise there was nothing to see, Magicka was still visible. I drew a simple greeting and waited.
,,Ah, modern Cyrodiilic. Yes, I greet you as well.” Floated before my eyes.
,,This has got to be the weirdest conversation ever.” I thought to myself.

,,Who are you?” I then asked. Of course, a name had little meaning and I couldn’t see the being either.
,,I have many names. To most however, I am a wandering seeker of knowledge. It has been a long time since I came across an unformed plane of essence. This intrigues me so I decided to remain. I apologize if this caused you any discomfort, lord.” The lack of air was still distracting me but I still caught on to the last title. Whatever it was, it had just named me as the apparent master of this place. Now asking it what it meant by that would reveal my complete lack of power. As such, it was better to dodge the subject.
,,Really? Why don’t planes remain unformed then?” I asked instead.

,,It is mostly a matter of applied Psychology. As you know, the plane of essence is connected to its master. Actually, calling them two separate beings is entirely incorrect itself. Being one and the same, the plane of essence forms to whatever wish its thinking portion, the lord, holds. Few I know can resist the temptation of a world formed to their will, where they can rule as an omnipotent god.” Now this was actually some helpful information. Forms to whatever wish the thinking portion holds? If I could simply wish for air and sight, it would make my stay a whole lot more pleasant. I did so and it was even easier than I thought it would be. I just had to realize that air was a distinct possibility and there it was. I could sniff up the smell. The air had the unique ashy taste of Vvardenfell.

,,Ah, now it has been formed. An endless expanse of air, made of a mixture found in the north-eastern area of Tamriel.” The storyteller said. I added light to the mix and finally saw him. He was simply a featureless orb of glass floating about.
,,Well yeah. I’ve spent some time there so it brings back memories. Or would you prefer the earlier absolute nothing?” I quipped with vocal speech.
,,This is your land, not mine. I have seen plenty of interesting things yet change is the very nature of everything. Once the master appears to lay claim to what is his, the plane of essence simply can’t remain unformed.” The orb answered in an absolutely neutral voice. It felt as if it had taken Cyrodiilic and relieved it of all the nuances that made speech so personal.

,,So, care to tell me what others make of their planes?” I asked. I honestly had no idea what to do with this place myself. The orb of glass twinkled, the only sign that it was more than just an inanimate object. I hadn’t specified an actual lightsource, so the twinkle had to be its doing, not mine.
,,I have seen many things. Quite simply, there is no limit to the possibilities. The last plane I visited however, was a battlefield where its lord enjoyed to fight and slaughter countless minions of its own creation, content with the knowledge that he was the absolute god of his realm and so nothing could beat him.”

Nothing could beat him? The idea appealed to my sense of pride which had taken quite a blow after Revan wiped me out. Or had he? Weren’t his last words ‘go home’? This place was in a way my home. Or at least, it could become. In here, I could lose my frustration by making a hundred Revans and tearing them apart as if I was a Daedric prince. Daedra, Aedra, were there any differences? Perhaps in the view of mortal tamrielians, but to me, it didn’t feel like there was anything different in the end. So I was a Daedric prince? How flattering.

But no, kicking the crap out of people with all the power of a god would only be childish. In the end, it wouldn’t accomplish anything. No, I shouldn’t stay here. It would be unhealthy for me. My pride had taken a blow, but it was a good one. There is a distinct line between confidence and unreasonable arrogance. No doubt I’d crossed the line there. Hopefully I’d shifted back down to plain confidence.

So I’d just decided that playing god in my own world was not a potential career change. I had to get back, somehow. Not just for me, but also for Ro-El, Gavis and his reality-challenged brother. I had to stop the Mournhold Captain before he ran out of control with Gravedigger. I had so many things to do. And….I suddenly realized that taking revenge on a certain Dark Elf was not on my to-do list. Whatever he might have done, he was just following Azura’s orders, I think. So if I had a fish to cut with someone, it was my mother. Then again, maybe this whole thing was her idea of a ‘coming to manhood’ ceremony. I wished she would have taken a more peaceful option but then again, most manhood ceremonies I’d come across all involved girls and permanent bonding of some sort. I wasn’t exactly the perfect husband, not as long as I had a sword I could swing and baddies to carve up.

Then again, did it really matter? If I so desired, I could make myself a hundred women right here. Which, admittedly, would be even more childish than the godmode slaying of a hundred Revan’s. So back to the point at hand, I had to get back to Nirn.
,,It has been nice talking to you, but I’m on a tight schedule. I’d say, feel free to wander around the place as long as you like, or leave at your leisure or whatever. As for me, I’ll be taking a hike back to Nirn right away.” I told the Orb. It twinkled again.
,,Back to Nirn? Forgive me, lord. But that is unfortunately impossible as long as the pact remains in place. One can only come to Nirn, if one is summoned. Even a lord has to obey this rule.” It spoke, which put the big sink on my mood.
,,Only if summoned? Wonderful, no one knows me! It could be centuries till someone gets the idea to summon a Redguard instead of a Dremora and that’s if I’m lucky! So what am I going to do in the meantime, twiddle my thumbs?” I called out.

,,This concept of rush is unusual and intriguing to observe in an immortal being. If you are truly in such a hurry, perhaps you could request an audience with a fellow lord, one who is more regularly summoned. It is not impossible for someone to follow another to Nirn. Travel to the planes of other lords is also restricted, yet less severely. In fact, most lords hold an oath of non-interference as sufficient to allow free passage through their world. If you so wish, I shall take you to the lord of your choice.” The orb offered. I grinned as the perfect choice came to my mind.

,,Ok, thanks. I’ll take the offer. Can you open a portal to Azura?” I requested.
,,If given your permission.” The orb replied. I realized that it was probably similar to how I’d formed the air. I would simply have to ‘tell’ this place that the orb was a friend who was free to open a portal. I did so and a big black gap of nothing appeared between us.
,,Follow me, lord. I shall take you to Azura.” I looked around me for one last time before flying through the portal. Who knew how long it would be till I returned here, if ever.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Aug 24 2007, 08:43 PM