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Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jan 6 2007, 09:12 PM

Well, here's the link to the previous thread: http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=3204

You can continue your praisings of my written words here. Expect an update next Saturday. I don't expect I'll get one out sooner. School starts again

Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 6 2007, 10:25 PM

The losses were greater than expected.

Savlian must really feel like a fool now. I bet he's all torn inside because he was too focussed on Hlodir to realize that Simion was out again.

And congratulations on the new thread! Few actually manage to do this, though there are notable exceptions. *cough*Trey*cough*

Posted by: Black Hand Jan 7 2007, 08:23 AM

Whoa....nicely done. Savage in its descriptions, bold in its expressions.

SGM as I have recently adopted!

Posted by: canis216 Jan 7 2007, 08:31 AM

Seems like everyone wants to visit Simion now... Savlian, Morag Tong, Giant Duluth Beast, and who knows who else?

But what will The Voice have to say about it all?

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jan 13 2007, 09:27 PM

Woo! First update on the new thread. I hope your all excited! Because I am! I figure that I'm likely not going to fill this thread up before we reach a conclusion. So expect one sometime in this thread! When that'll happen though, I'm not so sure. Anyways, here's the update:


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It didn’t take Savlian much time to get to Simion’s house. He decided to go alone and left the two guards who had taken him to Bernise’s. Savlian felt that this was something he had to deal with personally, and alone, less Simion felt like talking about something better left unsaid. Namely, the fact that Savlian had allowed him to get away with killing the Town Guardsmen just so that Vernon would die. While most would agree that getting rid of Vernon benefited the entire town, some would likely disapprove of Savlian’s methods and do something about it. No, this had to be dealt with. Quietly.

Savlian stepped up to Simion’s door and stared at the dark brown wood. The realisation that he was about to face a cold-blooded killer had now sunk in. Observing each successive crime, Savlian had noticed that each murder looked to be progressively more violent each time. It was as if Simion was enjoying his killing more and more. Obviously, Savlian had no way to control Simion. This was the only way he could end this threat without his deal with Simion being broadcasted.

Calmly he eased his broadsword in his sheath, making sure it wouldn’t catch should he have to withdraw it. He tested the doorknob and to his slight surprise it was unlocked. Silently, Savlian opened the door just enough for him to squeeze through before closing it once more.

Darkness greeted him as Savlian looked around the modestly furnished room; a lone chair was placed oddly in the centre of the room. The oppressing darkness also held an odd quality about it, since outside these walls the sun was shining brightly. The dark and heavy looking drapes thoroughly blocked out nearly all light, which made Savlian wait patiently for his night vision to sink in. Once his vision was somewhat restored, Savlian began to explore the house.

I’m playing right into his advantage, aren’t I? Savlian couldn’t help thinking about as look for signs of the assassin. For all he knew, Simion could be lurking up right behind him, dagger poised to sink into his throat. Savlian kept checking his back to make sure it was clear. This idea was getting worse and worse as he progressed slowly through the house, his senses straining to catch the slightest noise. If he had thought about it better, instead of having his guilt get the best of him, he would’ve tried to get Simion on his own terms. Now, he could be nothing more than a sitting duck.

“You’re not going to find him here.”

Savlian nearly jumped when he heard the raspy voice, but his instincts kicked in. He immediately turned to the direction of the voice, broadsword held tightly in his hand. He then noticed the mass of extra darkness placed upon the staircase; it seemed to get getting larger.

“Stay back!” Savlian warned, pointing his sword at the shadow.

The black mass stopped increasing in size. Instead, it moved to a desk and in moments an oil lamp was lit.

Savlian blinked from the sudden brightness and rubbed his eyes. Once he recovered he found out the black mass was a robed Dunmer. The black robe hid most of his physical features, but Savlian thought he looked somewhat lean. The Dunmer’s eyes glowed with a calculating look as he stood passively by the desk, the flickering light causing even more shadows to his all ready ash-coloured face. Savlian knew that what stood before him was an assassin.

“You’re looking for Simion correct?” the Dunmer inquired.

“Yes I am. I take it you’re with the Morag Tong?” Savlian responded.

A moment of surprise flashed across the Dunmer’s eyes before he cleared his voice. “Yes, my name is Taris and I serve Mephala faithfully. I was sent here to take care of Simion. Turns out he’s fled; I just finished searching the place when you arrived. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“Well the last time the Morag Tong sent a lone assassin to take out Simion, I found their body sprawled out on the streets,” Savlian said coldly, disappointment ringing in his voice as he sheathed his broadsword. Looking up, Savlian thought he saw movement from within Taris’ robes. Savlian thought it was likely a crossbow being put away.

“So you figured out Lavos was one of ours? I would’ve thought you’d think he was a Dark Brotherhood member,” Taris said mildly impressed.

“That I did, it took a little while though,” Savlian said, pausing momentarily before continuing, “I would’ve thought they would send more of you to deal with Simion if one failed.”

Taris smiled, and Savlian then saw that the Dunmer was quite young looking, there was youth in that smile. “Oh yes, there’s more of us this time. I… just wanted to try to get him on my own, though it was against my Master’s wishes. More than foolish of me, I know, but at the time I thought I could accomplish it. If Simion was here, it would’ve been more than likely that you would find my body sprawled against the floor.”

Savlian’s thoughts drifted to the Dunmer with the face tattoo inquiring about Lavos when Taris mentioned his master. The mer had definitely exuded some sort of presence when he had met him. It was very likely that he was one of the “others” Taris mentioned.

“Well, if he’s not here, I must go find him. It was certainly interesting to meet you, Taris,” Savlian said and began to head for the exit.

“Captain wait!” Taris called out, which left Savlian feeling a bit surprised. He didn’t introduce himself to the assassin.

“What is it? Do you know where Simion might’ve gone?” Savlian asked.

“No, it’s not about that. I want to tell you to stay out of this. Let the Morag Tong deal with this problem; we know what we’re facing here,” Taris said, his voice taking on a concerned edge.

“Yes, it seems that you’ve got the situation handled very well,” Savlian said sarcastically.

Anger crossed the ember eyes of Taris. “I haven’t seen you put him behind bars yet, so I wouldn’t carry on with such comments. Simion is an assassin, only other assassins will know how to deal with him, especially because he’s a skilled assassin. You’ll only get yourself killed if you continue to press him. He may have all ready decided that you’re the next victim, and if he has, you aren’t going to last long,” Taris said quietly yet with a dangerous tone placed upon his words.

Savlian stared directly into the smouldering eyes of Taris. “I’ve made some bad choices in my life, I know. But one choice that wasn’t a wrong one was becoming the Captain of the Town Guard. Since I’ve received the position, I’ve done everything possible to protect this city from the plague that was ruling it; I basically had my neck on the line, every single day, the constant reminder that a greedy, money hungering mongrel could simply say “Go kill Savlian” and it would happen. I managed to solve that issue and a new plague has arisen, one that’s killing the people I hold dear to me. Kvatch has a special place in my heart; I’m not going to watch her people suffer while some secretive assassins try to accomplish something they have previously failed at.”

“You see, I have yet to fail. I had to figure out who was behind these killings while your people knew who it was right from the get-go. We’ve been matching wits so far, as if this were some sort of twisted cat and mouse game. Well, if this is a game, I intend to not lose. If he wants to come at me next, I gratefully accept it, because that means the game will close, the winner will be determined. I will be ready for him!”

Savlian didn’t even care to see Taris’ belittled expression as he exited the house of Simion Mandrake.

Posted by: canis216 Jan 13 2007, 09:32 PM

Hmm... is Simion trying to flee from The Voice?

I'm sure the Morag Tong will be back in fuller force...

Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 13 2007, 09:36 PM

I'm convinced that Savlian will meet the MT again. He appears to be determined but I do hope that he keeps his guard up at all times. Simion can be a worse enemy than the count ever was.

Posted by: Black Hand Jan 18 2007, 06:22 PM

Ohh, how could I have missed the update? Veerryy Nice Mallet, keep it up bro~!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jan 20 2007, 07:56 PM

The Bloodlust continues! Muahahaha!



-----------------------

Stress and weariness racked Savlian’s senses as he made his way to the Count’s Castle. His altercation with the assassin Taris was still hot in his mind. Could they honestly believe that he would step aside and leave this chase alone? It was almost laughable! If anyone was going to defeat Simion, it would be him. Unlike what the assassins believed, he did know Simion’s personality; at least he thought he did. He thought his abilities in forming a criminal profile on a suspect were quite good. This was becoming more of a battle of wits rather than steel between Simion and Savlian, and wits was something Savlian didn’t lack. Sure, Simion had bested him during his first interrogation, but at that time, it was only suspicion rather than certainty that had led Savlian to interrogate Simion in the first place.

Savlian was still fuming when he entered the Count’s office. Ormellius was sitting at his desk, a significant bundle of parchment and paper cluttering it as he peered intently at one particular piece held in his hand. His eyes broke away from the parchment to view who had entered his office. Seeing it was Savlian, the eyes went back to the paper.

“These murder reports are upsetting me, Captain,” Ormellius said sternly, not looking up from the parchment he was reading, “From what I understand here, it seems that these murders are similar to the ones done against the Town Guard.”

Savlian stood rigidly, eyes fixed ahead of him. “That’s what’s suggested in the report, sir. To me, it seems that whoever is doing these murders though is a copycat, as the attacks are much more vicious in intention than the ones done against the Town Guard.”

“Maybe that is because the killer knew that these people could not fight back, unlike the guards,” Ormellius snapped back, setting down the parchment and rising from his seat.

Savlian couldn’t help be feel uncomfortable where he was standing. This was the first time he had seen the Count angry with him, at least, a Count who Savlian respected at least. It made the feeling all the much more worse because of that.

“That could certainly be the case, sir. I intend to get right on this. It shouldn’t be long until we get whoever this is,” Savlian replied as calmly as he could manage.

“This should’ve been dealt with long ago, Captain, even before we had to deal with Hlodir,” the Count stated with an authoritative tone, driving the message home. He turned his back to his Captain and with a wave of his hand he dismissed Savlian.




The situation was getting more hard pressing for Savlian as he paced about in his room, thinking about Simion and how to capture him. A barely touched meal was located off to the side; crime reports and hand written notes cluttered the surrounding area. Savlian slumped down into his bed; Savlian finally felt exhaustion from the battle, the journey home, and the stress that greeted him upon arrival.

As he rested there, he couldn’t help but think of Bernise and the horrible thing that was done to her. It was his fault she was dead. It was because he thought he could trust the word of a murderer that now Bernise was not going to tend to her garden anymore, nor enjoy the soon to be new and improved Kvatch. It devastating to think about that and yet Savlian couldn’t help it; the guilt was too strong. He finally fell asleep atop a wet pillow due to tears of frustration.




The sound of rubbing oiled leather spilt open Savlian’s eyes. An unknown dark mass hovered before Savlian; the glint of steel could be seen in what seemed to be the mass’ hand. Before Savlian could do anything, the mass jerked and fell back. Suddenly another black mass appeared in Savlian’s room. This one, held what appeared to be a short sword and purposefully moved towards the now retreating mass of the would be attacker.

Steel rang against steel as the two figures clashed with one another. By this time, Savlian was out of bed and had recovered his broadsword. The only problem was that he couldn’t tell which figure of the two struggling ones was the one who attacked him. The darkness didn’t allow Savlian to discern who was who. Instead, Savlian passively stood in the background and watched the two struggle with one another.

The battle didn’t last long. Their short blades allowed the two figures to fight at close quarters. The fluttering of robes, the clashing of steel, and the grunts of exertion were the only sounds issued from the combatants. The tables turned though when one of the figures surprised the other with a kick that sent him tumbling onto a table. Glass shattered and the one figure quickly disappeared into the night. Savlian watched the other figure rush over to the broken window. Savlian could see the moonlight the figure’s face, revealing the Dunmer named Sethyas. Looking out into the night, Sethyas cursed before turning back to Savlian.

Savlian managed to light an oil lamp, revealing the mayhem that had spawned within his room. Savlian could now see that Sethyas was still wearing his red robe. With one hand he was sheathing what looked to be a daedric katana and the other was rubbing his jaw, which was all ready bruising from the kick the attacker had planted there.

“What the hell are you doing here Sethyas?” Savlian asked, pointing his broadsword at the Dunmer.

“Saving your life it appears,” Sethyas replied a little heatedly.

“Sorry, Sethyas. Heat of the moment,” Savlian said apologetically, “I assume that was Simion?”

Sethyas looked back at the broken window briefly. “Yes, that was. As Taris had warned you, Simion was likely to kill you next, so I decided to keep an eye on you in hopes of intercepting Simion. I got what I wanted, but the results didn’t turn out how I wanted them to…”

Savlian’s eyes narrowed. “So you were treating me as if I were bait!? I think I deserve more than that!” he said incredulously.

Sethyas’ expression now softened. “I’m sorry, Savlian. While it certainly wasn’t the most ideal situation to put you in, I couldn’t let you know what I was doing. Simion would’ve smelled the trap before he even got close. Unfortunately, it turned out he caught onto it even when you didn’t know what was happening… Damn, he’s better than I thought.”

Savlian was still not that happy. “So first you tell me to leave Simion alone and let you guys deal with. Next, you set me up as bait! What are you going to do next? Strap me to the bed with a sign that says, “Kill me!” on it?”

“No, we wouldn’t do that. But remember this, Simion was coming after you anyway. If I weren’t here, you’d likely be a corpse now. If you’d let your anger dissipate, you’d see that,” Sethyas replied evenly.

Savlian sighed. “I guess that could be the case. I do appreciate the service you did for me a few moments ago, I would have rather known about it, that’s all,” Savlian said, visibly cooling down. “But if you think that this is going to stop me from continuing my hunt, you’re dead wrong, “Master Assassin”.”

Sethyas nodded. “Taris told me what you told him at Simion’s house. I guess we won’t try to dissuade you from catching Simion anymore. I wouldn’t trust us always being here should Simion try to attack you again though,” he added before climbing through the window. His head popped back into the window for a moment. “For now, I have some hunting to do.”

Savlian watched the head of Sethyas disappear into the night, he shivered as the chilly night seeped into the room. Looking around of the wreckage of his room, Savlian couldn’t help but think that he should move. Three attacks on him in his own home was more than enough reason.

Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 20 2007, 08:03 PM

Words of truth there, words of truth. Finding a different place to sleep is definitely a good idea.

I liked the conversation between Sethyas and Savlian. The conversation with the count was good as well. The murders have been going on quite a bit longer than they should have. Hmm, I wonder how Savlian continues?

Posted by: minque Jan 20 2007, 08:27 PM

Niiiiiiice! I like it, as Jackie said the conversation between Savlian and sethyas was wonderfully described! More please??!!

Posted by: Soulseeker3.0 Jan 22 2007, 01:53 AM

took me long enough to read the updates. I love the story MM. That 'dream'/out of body experience thing was creepy yet intriguing, and all the conversations were excellent. Congrats on making two threads and I can't wait for more.

ps, the conclusion better be good

Posted by: canis216 Jan 22 2007, 02:02 AM

What Savlian really needs is a good alarm system, with all kinds of fancy infrared beams and booby traps and all kinds of stuff. Or, he could just catch Simion. The infrared beams might be easier, though.

Posted by: Black Hand Jan 24 2007, 09:36 AM

Man....I almost dont know who to root for....

May the best Assassin win! Hows that?

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jan 27 2007, 07:43 PM

A black cloaked figured shuffled down the alleyway slowly. Not a single echoing footstep sounded, allowing the figure to appear like a shadow rather than human. The figure’s gloved hand clutched a forearm; blood glistened through the cracks between. Though the shadows covered most of the figure’s face, maddened and vivid blue eyes scanned the surrounding in a feverish nature. A dagger hung loosely in the hand of the figure’s damaged arm; a red stain crept along the side of it from the blood that managed to course down the figure’s arm.

Suddenly, the figure’s eyes focused on a ladder that ran up the side of alley wall. Carefully, the figure managed to climb up the ladder; eyes grimaced each time the injured arm had to be used. The ladder led to a niche in the building, basically a hole in the building that provided access to the unused attic. Inside, the body of what looked to be a homeless man was propped up against the wall of the far side of the attic. A pool of congealed blood coated the front of his shirt since his throat had been cut wide open.

A dim light was brought to life as the figure lit a small oil lamp. The figure carried the lamp over to a small chest, which rested opposite to a soiled straw mattress. The figure opened the chest and withdrew a vial. The contents of the vial were drained by the figure in one gulp and the figure’s eyes bulged as the healing effect of the potion went to work on the injured arm.

Simion gasped as he was able to resume control over himself from the shock of the healing potion. He looked down at his arm and found a small, pink scar peeking through the tear in his shirt. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils with a rank sensation and his gloved hand was sticky with congealing blood. In disgust, Simion removed the stained clothing and tossed them beside the corpse.

Simion’s body looked almost ghostly pale in the lamp light. Wiry muscles, crafted from meticulous training in his profession, covered his torso, which also held more than a few scars. Simion wanted to keep all the scars he received so that he would never forget why or how he got them. As his habit would take it, he absently brushed the one above his right brow.

Maybe I’ll get this one taken care of. It’s not like I need a reminder of it anymore, he thought. He then smirked as images of Vernon being strapped to his bed as he applied his technique flashed in his head. On second thought, I don’t mind keeping it.

In another small chest, Simion withdrew a simple brown shirt and threw it on. He looked around the room. Excluding the corpse sitting in the corner, the attic wasn’t a terrible hideout place. He had discovered this place when he was a child. After class, he had time to roam around the city before getting home. It was during one of these roaming adventures that he found a ladder that appeared to have lead no where. Curious, he had climbed up the ladder to find a small opening in the wall. What he found was the only entrance to the attic of the building the ladder was found on. It seemed as though the owner had forgotten about it, so Simion had decided to make it his own little hideout. His secret place.

He had been surprised to find the attic occupied when he had fled his home. Unfortunately for the man who had decided to make the hideout his home, Simion had arrived at night and caught the man sleeping. Simion gave him what he hoped was a painless death. He couldn’t risk the thought of letting him go free only to help Savlian or the Morag Tong.

A whiff of the air told Simion that the body was starting to rot and Simion scolded himself for slitting the man’s throat instead of breaking his neck. It would’ve been much cleaner and likely harder to connect the crime to Simion should he had disposed of the body. He’d soon have to remove it; or else the stench would become a beacon just asking for attention.

He sat upon the straw mattress and looked across the room at the corpse. He couldn’t help but think that if he was going to die, he wouldn’t likely receive the blessing of a painless or quick death. Whoever was going to kill him will make him suffer. Did he actually deserve such a fate though? For those he killed during his involvement with the Morag Tong he was safe from legal persecution. But of those he’s been killing lately, the wrath of the law could easily fall upon him. It would be for those that he’d hang or be placed on the wrong of a blade.

I do deserve to die. I have become a monster and yet I’m too cowardly to accept my deserved fate, Simion thought bitterly.

“Don’t carry on about that! You’ll make me sick!” the Voice rumbled within Simion’s head, the shock causing Simion to wince in pain, “Besides, we still have unfinished business… The Grandmaster will pay with interfering! I’ll be ready for him next time!”

Despair gripped Simion as he fell back onto the mattress. “No! I can’t do this anymore!” he said in desperation.

The Voice cackled. “You’re breaking down. You’ve become weak since we killed that woman.”

Simion rose quickly from the mattress, his face contorted in rage. “No! I did no such thing. You killed her!”

“You were there. It was your body that did it. Everyone who knows about the murder knows YOU did it. Why fight it?” the Voice stated. Simion could practically see the smirk on its unidentifiable face.

“I will tell them you did it. That I was possessed,” Simion said defiantly.

“Ha! They’ll think you’re crazy. You do know what they do to the crazy criminals, don’t you? They try to fix them and it doesn’t often work,” the Voice said before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Enough! Let me rest,” Simion said weakly, defeated.




Sethyas was still nursing his jaw, as well as a glass of brandy, as he sat in “The Flying Bosmer” awaiting the arrival of his colleagues. His encounter with Simion in battle was a shocking one. Even when he surprised the assassin, his sneak attack was detected at the last minute and Simion saved himself. During the head on battle, Simion had fought with a viciousness that was borderline chaotic, yet with enough technique to make the combination quite lethal. He was caught unexpected by the kick though, something that didn’t happen often.

“I guess I’ve become a little rusty,” Sethyas mused aloud.

“You? Rusty? Never!” Taris said, pulling up a seat beside Sethyas. Taris whistled when he saw the bruise forming on Sethyas’ jaw, “That looks like quite the wallop there.”

Sethyas couldn’t help but chuckle at Taris’ comment. He and Taris had been working together long enough to develop a friendship of sorts. Enough that Taris could say things that if another assassin of a lower rank were to say, Sethyas would have to have a talk with them.

“I take it the plan didn’t go as well as we hoped?” Taris speculated as he took a more serious tone.

Sethyas shook his head. “No. It didn’t turn out how I wanted it to. He managed to catch me and if he didn’t decide to escape, I could be dead now.”

Taris nodded. “Well, he made a mistake there, Sethyas. We’ll be even more prepared next time,” he said in encouragement.

Rah’mirr, the Khajiit, and the other two Dunmer were now at the table as well. Each of their expression was grim when they saw that Sethyas did not have a successful report.

“I believe I did injure him, that could’ve been another reason why he left. Now I’m sure that I’ll be a target now, which is both good and bad. What I suggest we do is watch each other’s backs. Simion, and I stress this, cannot be underestimated,” Sethyas said.

Those around him nodded in understanding and Sethyas continued. “We’re also giving up on our stakeout of the Captain. We’re to leave him alone, and hopefully, he’ll leave us be. He’ll have to defend himself should Simion find him again.”

“Rah’mirr thinks that’s a bad idea. We know Simion wants Guard Captain dead, so why not lie in wait while our prey attempts to take the bait?”

Sethyas sighed. “Because, Savlian is a man and not bait. I have warned him that we will not be there to help him should Simion come after him. He has accepted that fact. I am honour bound to accept his wishes. But should our paths cross unknowingly, that is a different situation.”

Rah’mirr nodded, convinced that was how it should be. “What shall we do now then?”

“Find Simion’s hiding spot. I suggest the alleyways.”

Posted by: Lord Revan Jan 27 2007, 07:56 PM

Excellant update MM, I foresee a collision course between all three parties: Town Guard, Morag Tong, and Rogue Assassin. I've never been able to harness the full potential of the post machine!

Posted by: Soulseeker3.0 Jan 27 2007, 08:48 PM

It does make you think there will be a slash between all of the parties involved.

Very good update MM, i'm loving this story

Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 27 2007, 10:33 PM

The meeting of the assassins. Oh, boy. And Simion is squeezing his nose shut with his fingers. I need to find something with which I can make you continue. I know, how about an Agent update? Take the bribe, take it. It works like a charm in Tamriel.

Posted by: Malpense the Dark Jan 28 2007, 02:22 AM

Oh jeeze man this series is fantastic! I've only recently joined these forums and have just sat down and read your entire set of stories. Love the characters, Simion is really interesting and I kinda feel sorry for the poor guy. I'll be interested to see if the voice in his head really is some type of possession or if he is just a loon. Out of curiousity, is the series set close to the attack on Kavatch in Oblivion. I expected the corrupt count to have got finished of by the daedra but apparently not. It would be a pity if this new guy became count only to get killed immediatly.

Anyhow keep up the good work, I'm really enjoy everything!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jan 28 2007, 04:14 AM

Well, to answer your question Malpense, this story does in fact take place fairly shortly before the Oblivion Crisis. In fact, if you pay careful attention to some of the characters you meet in Kvatch during the crisis, you actually meet Savlian and the Count (sorta). So yea, I kinda "borrowed" their names for the sake of staying true to the lore.

What I probably intend to do once Bloodlust is finish is write the sequel to this, which obviously involves the events of the Oblivion Crisis. Fortunately, in the game they show basically the aftermath of the situation, so I can still be quite creative with what I want to do.

I'd also liked to add that I've finally made up my mind about Simion that will definitely affect the ending of the story, and it pertains to your thoughts about his mentality. Of course, I'm going to leave it at that because who would want a spoiler? I'll just annoy those with teasers instead!

Anyways, thank's for giving my story a shot. The more readers I get, the more happier I am! Now you're stuck waiting for updates like the rest of these guys!

PS- Oh yes I forgot! I might have some time this week pull a Black Hand and go post machine on you guys! You see, it's exams week and I've finished the only one I have, so that means I have no school till Thursday. In other words, I'll have a lot of free time on my hands. But don't get your hopes up. Who knows, I might get sick. Or really lazy!

Posted by: canis216 Jan 28 2007, 04:29 AM

:Hypnotism: Post-machine, Mallet, post-machine :Hypnotism:

OK, so I shouldn't be talking about post-machining, since I haven't updated in a week... but I'm putting out an update tonight, I promise!

On topic... this latest update is great Mallet! Keep it coming!

Posted by: Black Hand Jan 28 2007, 09:47 AM

Wow,....I have a term named after me now?

**makes seven updates in three hours**

As for the story Mallet, it's terribl....


.....ly addictive. Keep it up!

Posted by: Lord Revan Jan 28 2007, 08:46 PM

*loads a shot gun and slowly creeps up behind Black Hand*

Posted by: Black Hand Jan 28 2007, 08:55 PM

**Knows that Revan is there. Cuz, you cant sneak up on an Assassin**

"Connect the dots, Lord Revan. I said Terribly Addictive."

Posted by: Lord Revan Jan 28 2007, 08:57 PM

Yeah, well it looked like you paused to think of something you could turn that into something good. *stows shotgun and gets back in his seat*

Posted by: jack cloudy Jan 28 2007, 09:04 PM

*A metal foot the size of Caius' house stomps down into Kvatch.*

Now, now. Let's not fight here, shall we? As for the possibility of some post-machining, sounds great!

Sidenote: I just saw a movie of Kvatch on the internet yesterday! The moment Savlian Matius came into view, I went all like: ,,Cool! It's Savlian! He looks different than I thought but still, that's a nice touch Mallet made there."


Second sidenote: Umm, I think I just smashed part of the citywall to pieces. I've found a Daedric shield and a full collection of Orcish though. Perhaps that's enough to fund the repairs?

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 3 2007, 08:13 PM

Why you smashing up my city! It's people are getting killed and you have to so inconsiderate and small her walls! Poor Kvatch! I'll still take the armour though! And yea... I guess the hypnotism didn't work, decided to rest up before school starts again rather than post machine, sorry. I just guest my normal writing atmosphere is better than my home. Anyways, here's today's update. I'm sure you'll enjoy this one!



----------------------

The alley stunk of stale sweat and garbage, causing Taris’ expression to turn sour. Beside him, Rah’mirr kept his alert eyes scanning the adjoining alleyways. Taris also knew that in the nearby vicinity, two more Morag Tong agents were searching for Simion. If the Breton was hiding in these alleys, they were going to find him.

In all his time serving Mephala and the Morag Tong, this was Taris’ first time enacting the Guild rules for those who betrayed them. He couldn’t even recall a time in the Morag Tong’s history when such an event had happened. All Morag Tong assassins had either perished on the duty or had retired peacefully, not so with Simion. Vengeance had enticed him to break an oath that should’ve never been broken. For that, it was his duty, as well as the other’s duty, to put an end of Simion’s disgrace to the Guild.

Taris had only been a rookie when Simion was still in the Guild. Even at that time, Simion was known as an accomplished assassin. He was skilled, but humble, two traits that worked really well together. That was until the Arena Underworks Incident happened. He had been assigned to clean up the mess, and what mess it was. It didn’t even look like an assassin killed the Dark Brotherhood agents. Instead, it looked as if a barbarian horde of Orcs had stormed through the Underworks. Witnessing the aftermath of Simion’s wrath had both amazed Taris as well as inspired fear for Simion. It took something unnatural to do what had been done to those assassins single-handedly.

Taris had never spoken with Simion before that incident, giving him the respect of his superior rank, and after it he decided to keep away from him all together. He had heard about the attack on Lavos and Taris certainly did not want to share the same fate.

Yet again, Taris felt that he didn’t even want to face the renegade assassin. Yet again, he did not want to share the same fate as Lavos. Sure, his career choice was dangerous, but he felt that he many years of life yet to live. He didn’t want to miss out on them.

Rah’mirr must have sensed something in his companion, as he placed his paw re-assuredly upon Taris’ shoulder.

“Do not fear, young Taris. Together, you and Rah’mirr pose a great threat to Simion. Rah’mirr will watch your back as you watch Rah’mirr’s. We will live to see the Breton’s end.”

Taris smiled as he returned the gesture to his Khajiit companion. “I needed that. Being an assassin, you’d think I wouldn’t be afraid of my own death though. I should be well accustomed to it by now.”

Rah’mirr’s expression softened. “No sane person is not afraid of death,” he answered honestly.

Taris nodded. “Good words, my friend, good words.”

Rah’mirr’s eyes returned to scanning his surroundings. “We’d best keep going,” he said warily as he started walking again.

Taris held back momentarily before continuing. Rah’mirr was right. No one in his or her right mind would be fearless of death. Bravery was simply coping with the fear to accomplish the goal. Bravery was what Taris had to conjure in order to survive his mission.

Shortly after Rah’mirr and Taris resumed their searching, a cry sounded from an adjacent alley, followed by the sound of metal crashing against metal. Instantly both assassins had their weapons drawn.

“That sounded like…” Taris trailed off as it dawned on him what was happening. Immediately, he took off at a sprint towards the source of the struggle. Plain looking brink blurred past his vision as he progressed his way through the dank alleyways. The only sound indicating that Rah’mirr was followed was the odd tapping of claws upon the ground.

Twisting around the corner, Taris arrived to a bloody scene. Two bodies were collapsed against the ground, one of them Taris didn’t know, but he quickly surmised that he was homeless. The other body was that of one of the Dunmer assassins. Blood covered the front of his body, as it appeared that a single sword slash to the body had taken his life.

In front of Taris, Simion stood locking blades with the other assassin, who was desperately trying to withstand Simion’s strength. His knees were buckling under the effort.

Simion’s eyes made briefly made contact with Taris’. In that instant, Taris stopped dead in his tracks. Something was horrifyingly familiar in that look. Something that he would have never thought he would see again.

“Father!?” he whispered in shock and fear.

It was Rah’mirr that snapped him from his discovery. “We must aid our Brother, young Taris!” he said harshly, leaping ahead of Taris to get to Simion. Taris quickly followed suit and chased after the Khajiit.

Simion caught sight of the approaching assassins. He had merely been toying with this one and decided it was time to stop playing. With one fluid motion, he shifted his pressing blade and using his momentum, he swirled past the assassin. Simion’s sword swirled in a beautiful arc and with a quick thrust backwards, the sword drove itself through the assassin’s body, piercing out the other side. The assassin gasped in pain and stared down at the crimson stained metal jutting out of his torso before his life escaped him and he slumped upon the blade.

“I have no time for you right now!” Simion shouted at the approaching assassins before hurling the corpse towards them.

Both assassins were caught off guard by the tactic and the corpse crashed into both of them, sending them both to the ground. Taris and Rah’mirr struggled between themselves and the body as they tried to get up. Once they did only the silence of the alley greeted them. Simion had disappeared.

Rah’mirr shouted a curse and kicked a nearby crate, smashing it to splinters. Taris could only look in horror as the deaths of his comrades finally registered in his brain.

“They’re dead! He killed them as if they were nothing!” Taris sobbed as he stared at the forming pool of blood enveloping the body of the recently killed assassin.

Rah’mirr came to Taris’ side, his eyes still burning with anger. “They have gone to somewhere where they shall feel no more pain. May Mephala bless them,” he said in a sombre tone, offering a prayer to their patron for their fallen comrade’s safe passage to the other side.

Taris added his own prayer before picking up his fallen comrade. “They are Dunmer, they’ll need to be taken to their appropriate ancestral tomb,” he told Rah’mirr, who went and picked up their other fallen comrade.

“We must inform the Grandmaster,” Rah’mirr said softly as Taris nodded in reply.

It was then that the sound of armoured footsteps was heard echoing off the alley walls. Rah’mirr cursed again. The Town Guard had arrived.

A pair of Imperials decked out in chain mail and the emblem of Kvatch emblazoned on their breastplate jogged into view. Instantly, they had their broadswords out and pointed at the assassins.

“Stay where you are!” the foremost guard ordered as they approached slowly.

Taris stood still and maintained a harmless stance. “We don’t intend to do you any harm sirs,” he said as nicely as possible.

“Then relieve yourself of any weapons!” the guard ordered.

Taris placed his fallen comrade softly on the ground and nodded to Rah’mirr to do the same. He did so reluctantly.

Taris handed his short sword and daggers to the other guard. “Take us to Captain Savlian; we must speak to him about this,” he said in an even voice.

The guard who had been speaking so far arched an eyebrow. “You know Captain Savlian?” he asked with some scepticism.

“We have met and spoken before,” Taris replied.

The guard paused and seemed to be thinking about something. “You’ll have to leave those bodies here for now; they’re apart of a crime scene now. We’ll escort you to the barracks instead of arresting you for the moment. Don’t try any funny business, you understand?” the guard said sternly after he had made up his mind.

“I won’t do anything,” Taris assured them, Rah’mirr nodding to the same words.

“All right, let’s go,” the guard said, ushering the two assassins in front of him.

As Taris was led along by the guards towards the barracks he hoped that he would be able to convince Savlian to get Sethyas. For he suspected he would not be able to leave the barracks anytime soon. He needed to report to Sethyas about what he saw in Simion’s eyes. He knew that look, as he had often seen the exact same expression upon his father’s face, particularly after a messy deed had been committed. Something more than simple revenge was going on here and Taris was sure this link with his father might have something to do with it.

Hopefully, he’ll be able to speak with Sethyas.

Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 3 2007, 10:25 PM

Sorry, I didn't plan to! Seriously, you have to realize that parking a great Centurion is hard.

Anyway, the last update is very interesting. Taris and Rah'mirr share a nice relationship it appears. Then there is Simion. I've got some interesting speculations regarding the voice now.

Posted by: canis216 Feb 3 2007, 10:29 PM

Yeah, I'm wondering about that voice, too...

Posted by: Soulseeker3.0 Feb 3 2007, 10:49 PM

Wow, creepy, and i too am looking differently at the voice.... I didn't know voices could breed j/k please update soon because i'm dieing to know what the deal is.

Posted by: minque Feb 3 2007, 10:59 PM

Very nice and intriguing as always Mallie! You, like the other post-machines, are just incredible, I just wish I could post as fast as you do....Anyway keep up the good work!

Posted by: Black Hand Feb 4 2007, 12:25 AM

Simion is getting more and more....mysterious...I look forward to the next update Mallet....here comes the post machine!! Such a post machine!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 10 2007, 08:14 PM

The plot thickens!!! I think.... I've definitely been enjoying all the comments I've been getting recently. It's great to see you guys making speculations and all that.



-----------------------

Savlian stared across the table at the two assassins. Both looked at him, their faces an unreadable mask. Blood from their fallen comrades still covered their clothing in dark blotches. Under any normal circumstances, Savlian would’ve been quite certain that they were the guilty ones. But these circumstances were far from normal. He knew that they looked unbreakable because the two guardsmen who had brought them in still lingered in the room. Savlian had all ready spoken with them.

“You two are dismissed; I’ll take it from here,” he told the guardsman, assuring them of his own safety.

Once the door clicked shut, the assassins visibly relaxed. The one Savlian had previously met, Taris, leaned across the table. “We need you to bring Sethyas here. I have important news to report. He has to know about this as well, and I don’t feel like repeating myself,” Taris rasped quietly, seemly conscious that someone might be listening in on their conversation on the other side of the door.

Savlian leaned back in his chair and contemplated the demand. “Fine,” he answered after some time. If he would get some answers that way, why not?

“Thank you, Captain,” Taris said, returning to his seat. He pulled out a rolled piece of plant, what Savlian guessed was Hackel-Lo, and lit it. He put the plant to his lips and inhaled the burning extract of the plant. Grey smoke billowed from his mouth upon exhale and an earthy scent filled the room.

Savlian felt relaxed by the pleasant scent, but he had to find Sethyas now. “Where can I find him, Taris?”

Taris took another pull of his Hackel-Lo before answering. “He should be back at ‘The Flying Bosmer Inn’ by now,” he said after expelling another cloud of smoke.

Savlian rose from his seat. “I’ll have to keep you two under watch while I go out and get Sethyas. It’s protocol. I wouldn’t recommend any thoughts of sneaking out because that would only further suspicion that you two are the ones behind all these murders,” he warned before leaving the room.

Rah’mirr growled quietly, his anger over the event that led to this still having an effect on him. Taris turned to his companion and offered the Hackel-Lo to him. Rah’mirr fixed Taris with a glare, crossing his arms across his chest.

Taris pulled back the Hackel-Lo. “Just thought it would help to simmer you down,” Taris offered.

“Rah’mirr wishes to be angry. He has failed to kill Simion. Because of that, Rah’mirr’s comrades have yet to be avenged,” Rah’mirr said bitterly.

Taris was concerned for his friend. He was sure Rah’mirr had witnessed the deaths of other assassins before. Yet for some strange reason, he was taking this very personally. This was something Taris had never seen in the Khajiit.

“I’ve never seen you behave like this before after one of our comrades have fallen. What’s troubling you about this?” Taris asked, concern evident in his voice.

Rah’mirr shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It seemed as though he was battling with something within him. Finally, Rah’mirr met Taris’ eyes and Taris was shocked to see them glistening. The emotion spilling through stunned him.

“Rah’mirr could’ve ended this a long time ago,” he said sadly.

“A long time ago?” Taris asked, confused by the words of his companion.

Rah’mirr sighed audibly. “After the first incident, the one where he nearly killed Lavos, Rah’mirr was deeply angered by Simion’s actions. A couple of days after the incident, Rah’mirr planned to kill Simion in his sleep. Rah’mirr would’ve made it look as if it was natural so that the Guild wouldn’t have tried to find the responsible one. But, when Rah’mirr went to commit the deed, he found Simion awake. Simion was weeping and Rah’mirr thought it was due to remorse for his actions, so Rah’mirr left him,” he said sombrely,” … Rah’mirr thought wrong it seems,” he added sadly.

Taris took a moment to absorbed Rah’mirr’s confession. It certainly revealed why he was so affected by Simion’s slaughter of their comrades. Rah’mirr had been placing all the guilt upon himself and it was finally taking its toll.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Rah’mirr,” Taris said assuredly, “I believe what you saw was real compassion. Something has changed in Simion since then. You are certainly not to blame. Simion must be held accountable for his actions.”

Rah’mirr’s head lifted. “Perhaps you are right. People do change. But I still feel bad for missing my opportunity to redeem myself today,” Rah’mirr faced Taris once more and clasped his shoulder, “I will be fine my friend.”

Taris returned the gesture. “That is good news, my friend. Now let’s hope Sethyas arrives soon.”



Sethyas was doing quite well at hiding the anxiety he was feeling. The other assassins were at least an hour overdue from meeting up once more. It was because of this a sense of foreboding was building up within him.

He absent-mindedly took a puff from his Hackel-Lo, its restorative properties attempting to ease his mind. He caught the sound of an opening door and his eyes raced to the entrance, hoping to see signs of the others. Instead, he was surprised to see Captain Savlian enter. He watched the Captain scan the room and once their eyes met, the Captain approached him.

“I need you to come with me,” Savlian said straight to the point.

Sethyas looked at him sceptically. “Are you arresting me?” he said with a hint of bafflement.

“No, I’m merely escorting you to the barracks. Some friends of yours wish to speak with you,” Savlian said, avoiding the use of any names.

Sethyas’ eyes widened. “What’s happened?” he asked hurriedly.

Savlian cautiously scanned the rest of the Inn, though he avoided looking obvious doing so. “I’m not sure yet. They want you there to hear before they talk. So can we get moving?” Savlian said in a tone that obviously said that the Captain was losing his patience.

Sethyas rose, and discarded his smoke. He nodded to Savlian and the two proceeded to exit the Inn.



Savlian entered the interrogation room, Sethyas following closely behind, and found that the two assassins still sat patiently. At seeing the blood upon their clothing, Sethyas’ expression wilted.

“Is that…” Sethyas began.

“Both of theirs…” Taris finished.

Sethyas cursed and took a seat beside his fellow assassins. Savlian took the seat on the opposite side of the table. “Start at the beginning of the altercation,” he ordered.

Taris then began to dictate their altercation with Simion, with Rah’mirr adding points when he thought it was necessary. As Savlian listened, he could see in Sethyas’ eyes emotions of anger, sadness, and even rage. The creaking of his leather gloves seemed deafening in the rather quiet room.

“I must also add,” Taris continued, “That I saw a look in Simion’s eyes that I had only seen in one person before. And that looked belonged to my father.”

Sethyas’ eyes darkened and Savlian felt like he was missing something. “Your father?”

“Orvas Dren, Captain,” Rah’mirr said, “He held quite an influence in Vvardenfell a number of years ago. He ran a criminal ring called the Commona Tong.”

“The mer was a fetcher and a murderous scumbag,” Sethyas spat out before his expression, “Though that has no affect on what I think of you, Taris.”

“I know that, Sethyas,” Taris said amiably.

Savlian decided to press the issue at hand. “So what does your father and Simion have to do with each other?”

“Well, Simion was a part of a team of assassin sent in to kill my father. They succeeded, but I believe Simion was injured during the assassination,” Taris said, looking to Sethyas to see if he was correct. Sethyas nodded that it was true.

Savlian still wasn’t following. “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

Taris ran his fingers through his black hair. “I believe that something must’ve happened between the two, something that has allowed them to act the same. I just don’t know what did it,” Taris paused as the memories rose to the surface once again, “All I know is that look Simion gave me is almost exactly like my father’s. He only had that look when he killed and enjoyed it extremely. I used to call it his Bloodlust Look, because every time blood was spilt, that look appeared on his face. As a child it frightened me, and as an adult, it sickened me…”

Savlian was frustrated. This seemed ludicrous! “So are you suggesting we try to figure out how Simion was “changed” by your father during an event that happened several years ago?” he said, scepticism dripping from his voice.

Taris fixed Savlian with a glare. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. In fact, I wish to return to my villa and look around for inspiration. I still have a mark spell placed in Vivec.”

“How quick do you think you can get back here?” Sethyas asked.

“In a week,” Taris replied.

“Go to your villa then, but if you’re over a week late. We’re going to have a problem,” Sethyas warned the Dunmer, “Is he free to go, Captain?”

Savlian thought over the ridiculous notion of the Dunmer. Still, with one of them gone, there was lower chance of finding his body on the streets. “He may leave, but don’t cast that spell out in the open where people can see. We don’t like Mythicism in Cyrodiil,” he stated, waving the Dunmer off.

Taris rose from his chair. He gripped both assassins’ hand in a brother fashion.

“Travel swiftly, friend,” Rah’mirr said before Taris left the room.

Posted by: canis216 Feb 10 2007, 08:34 PM

Oh man, stories are crossing over and over... how many times has Orvas Dren died on this site's fanfics?

Still, this 'Bloodlust' thing is kind of reminding of that movie, years back, with Denzel Washington and John Goodman and some evil dude's transient soul... I never actually saw that movie, but I remember the previews.

But anyway, this is great stuff!

Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 10 2007, 09:19 PM

Ahah, my theories have not yet been revealed as wrong. Ok, now I want to see the results of the investigation.


Canis, I believe that Orvas getting killed is the same thing as Fargoth getting trashed in various humiliating ways. For some reason, it always happens.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 10 2007, 11:54 PM

Haha, yea canis, with all the crossovers there's bound to be some plotholes. Fortunately, it seems that our readers here aren't bothered by them, which is nice. The most obvious plothole in mine (well, obvious if you read Black Hand's "The Tale of Sethyas Velas") is that Orvas Dren was killed by Simion. Since I decided to make my story take place after Black Hand's "Tale(s)", in which Sethyas finishes off Dren, you find the plothole of how could both of them kill him?

But meh, I'm fine with having that. Hopefully those who are annoyed with plotholes like that won't get too annoyed over that

Posted by: canis216 Feb 11 2007, 01:20 AM

Yeah, it's no problem--it just amuses me.

It's just something funny with the space-time continuum, I'm sure. Akatosh's jills just haven't found it yet.

Posted by: Black Hand Feb 11 2007, 08:34 AM

Well, yeah. Technically in the Sethyas timeline Simion is still in Vvardenfell. I wouldnt call them plotholes at all. In crossovers there are liberties that must be taken. But thanks for interpereting Sethyas so well!

And Canis, the movie you're thinking of is called 'Fallen'. I highly reccomend seeing it...it has a great twist!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 17 2007, 08:08 PM

Here's a little bit of a shorter one today. I have projects to do this long weekend, so I figured I'd try to belt out a quick one. It still ends on a appropriate note though



--------------------------
Taris had wasted no time in his preparation to leaving Cyrodiil. After being released from the barracks, he had immediately travelled to “The Flying Bosmer” to gather his things. After that, he paid off the inn owner and swiftly vacated the town of Kvatch.

Now, he stood off in the woods nearby the main road that led to Chorrol. Taris made sure that no one was nearby, taking heed of Savlian’s warning about the use of teleportation magic. Certain that the area was clear of prying eyes, Taris activated his recall spell.

A wave of awkwardness attacked Taris’ senses briefly; adding that to a sense of weightlessness before Taris found himself standing in his office within his villa. The place looked exactly how he left it. The shelves of books still resided in the northern corner of the room, his desk, placed in front of a large window for its use of natural light, still had the jar of ink and cliffracer quills placed upon it. Everything was dust free as well. It meant that Freda was still doing her job.

Taris examined himself and realised that his clothes were still bloodstained from the altercation in the alley with Simion. Taris had been in such a hurry to get going, he had forgotten about the blood. Well, he was going to remedy that.

Taris left his office and began to head to his room. Along the way, an older looking Dunmer female rounded the corner carrying a load of clothing. At the sight of Taris, the startled Dunmer dropped her load of clothing; a high pitch squeak gave voice to her fright. Taris stopped and raised his hands to chest level, showing that he was unarmed.

“It’s just me, Freda. And the blood isn’t mine,” Taris said in a calming manner.

Freda’s eyes took a moment to recognise the master of the villa she worked for. Once they did, her eyes narrowed.

“I consider it quite inappropriate to spook your servants like that, serjo Dren!” she said sternly as she bent down to pick up the clothing she dropped, “Now I’ll have to clean some of these all over again.”

Taris helped Freda with picking up the clothing. Placing the last article on top of the pile, Taris gave his servant a small embrace.

“I’m sorry to have scared you, Freda. It was not my intention, and I wasn’t exactly planning on arriving back so soon.”

Freda eyed the assassin suspiciously. “You’re not in trouble with the law are you? By that blood on you, it looks like you’ve visited a slaughterhouse,” she exclaimed, her expression turning worrisome.

“It’s not like that. Actually, I’m kinda working with the law this time. Still, the reason for me being here is serious all the same.”

“Well I best stay out of your way then,” Freda said, beginning to head off. Taris stopped her though.

“Freda, if you have the time, could you locate any of my father’s possessions that we’ve kept in the villa?” he asked.

Freda looked about to ask Taris something, but stopped. Instead she simply nodded before leaving.




Taris stood in Orvas Dren’s room, his eyes taking in every nook and cranny of the room. Taris had decided to leave the room virtually untouched after his father’s death; he didn’t wish to sleep in the room of one who willingly caused those beneath him intense suffering.

The bed, long left untouched, was still made neatly. A stand of shelves still contained bits of various armours that Orvas had prided himself in collecting. One of his most cherished pieces, a pair of Daedric greaves, had been sent with his body to the Dren Ancestral Tomb. Taris hoped that he would not have to travel there to find his answer. It would only take away from the time he required to travel back to Kvatch.

The creaking of floorboards signalled Freda’s arrival. She carried a small crate, which rattled as the contents within moved about. Freda dropped the crate upon the bed unceremoniously. Brushing the dust off her hands, she looked to Taris.

“Well, that’s all that’s left here. Hopefully you find what you’re looking for,” she said, her voice hinting at worry, “Just be careful though; some memories aren’t meant to be remembered.”

Taris thanked the old Dunmer for her assistance. As she walked off, Taris opened up the crate and examined its contents. Inside there contained a couple of books, many of them religious books from the basically defunct Temple, and off the “good” Daedra. It also contained some exquisite jewellery and also an intricate looking dagger.

The dagger itself caught Taris’ attention. He picked up the weapon and read its inscription: “Silverbrand”. The name of the weapon further piqued Taris’ interest. The weapon was closely named to the legendary longsword, “Goldbrand”, which had been blessed by the Daedric Lord, Boethiah. Could this perhaps be a weapon also blessed by Boethiah?

Taris could understand why he father would possess such a weapon, should his speculation be correct. As a devout homeland Dunmer, Orvas held strong belief in traditional Dunmer religious, particularly the worship of what the Dunmer considered were the “Good Daedra”: Azura, Mephala, and Boethiah. Possessing anything blessed by those Daedra would be ample proof of Orvas’ devotion to tradition Dunmer values.

Taris placed the dagger aside and picked up one of the books. It happened to be about the Daedra, so he flipped to Boethiah’s page. What he read about the Daedric Lord got him thinking. Boethiah seemed to love violence, as if he revelled in the suffering of others. His attention returned to the dagger. It seemed more familiar now…

It was familiar! He had seen use it once before, in fact, he had seen Orvas drawing the blade across his forearm. Taris had peered into his father’s study, as he had thought he had heard a noise. Indeed the noise was the heavy breathing of Orvas, since he was cutting himself with the blade in some sort of ritualistic manner. The smell of burning flesh had been rank on his senses, but it was the crazed look in his father’s eyes that had scared him away. The same look that Simion has been using.

It looked like the answer was beginning to pull itself together.

Posted by: canis216 Feb 17 2007, 09:00 PM

Ah, this is most interesting. Boethiah behind the bloodlust, perhaps? Very intriguing.

Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 17 2007, 10:57 PM

Self-mutilation to please a Daedra? Really, if it wasn't for the fact that the Daedra can be pretty tough customers, I would say that this goes a bit too far. Ah well, the plot gets even thicker than before so I'm pleased. Yes, very pleased.

Posted by: Black Hand Feb 18 2007, 07:46 AM

Going too far? I must disagree with the gentleman from Cloudydania! Boethia really seems to get off from the suffering of people...come to think of it....MOST of the Daedra Princes do!

Oh yes, and I am pleased as well! Do keep it up Mallet!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Feb 24 2007, 08:19 PM

Well I decided to take another creative interpretation of a familiar Morrowind character (well, familiar for you Telvanni fans) for the sake of my story. Though I think it still fits, I guess I'll see how you're opinions go with it. On with the story!



---------------------------
The annoying squawk of a cliffracer reminded Taris of some of the things he was glad he didn’t have to experience during his absence from Vvardenfell. Still, the pests of the sky were in the distance and Taris thought they would not be prone to attack him, especially since the ramparts of Moonmoth Legion Fort rested just on the other side of the foyoda. The Imperial Legion fort was not Taris’ destined location though, it was the nearby town of Balmora that Taris sought to enter. For it was there that he hoped to find someone to examine Silverbrand, and hopefully discern its properties.

The dagger was carefully sheathed upon his belt, hidden from view. He did not want any thieves attempting to pluck the valuable weapon from him before he found out all that he could about it. Taris was certain that by knowing how the dagger works, he’d be able to defeat Simion with the gathered information. Taris knew this was the only object that connected his father with Simion, this had to be what he was looking for! There was nothing trivial about this!

As he passed the fortress, which was cradled by the mountains separating the West Gash area from the Ascadian Isles region of Vvardenfell, he could see the shimmering reflection of the Odai River. In the distance he could see the palisade walls of Balmora, and the distant moaning of a Silt Strider.

Balmora was almost a third home to Taris, only precedent after his villa and the Guild Headquarters. His father had to travel to Balmora often to attend to House business and he would often bring Taris along with him. Taris would spend his time at the Council Hall, or simply roaming the city, studying its every intricacy. Over the years Taris had grown quite familiar with the layout of the city. He knew that the Thieves Guild ran the South Wall Cornerclub while the Commona Tong had been firmly established at the Council Club. An unknown assailant, thought to have been working out of interest of the Legion, had unceremoniously slaughtered the Commona Tong members. He also knew of the enchanters who held their practice in the city.

Taris knew that there were at least three enchanters in Balmora, the two obvious ones were the ones appointed to the Temple and the Mages Guild. The third though, Taris thought not too many people knew about. It was this enchanter that Taris hoped to see, though there was the possible chance that the Dunmer skipped town a wile ago.

Taris entered the familiar sight of the market square, his plain cloak wrapped around himself to conceal anything underneath it. Even though Guild duties had kept him away from Balmora for an extensive amount of time, the place still looked unchanged. He didn’t bask in the sight for long though, he had duties to accomplish. He walked behind the Mages Guild and arrived at the Odai, the river splitting the town in two. He kept on the same side of the river, heading for a collection of two story apartment homes instead of crossing over to the housing division of town. At the last house, Taris walked up the stairs and knocked on the door.

The distinctive rustling of someone moving within brought a slight smile to Taris’ face. He was still in town, which meant that the Telvanni had yet to bother him again.

The door creaked open and a suspicious Dunmer face peeked through the other side. As recognition registered, the Dunmer’s eyes widen and he threw open the door. “Taris, my friend! Come on in, and don’t mind the mess,” the enchanter said, ushering the assassin in with eager joy.

Taris carefully stepped over the junk littering the floor of “Fast Eddie’s “ apartment. Eddie was a former agent of the Telvanni until a slight with the wrong person left him banished from Telvanni-controlled cities like Sadrith Mora, and Tel Mora. Eddie had decided to reside in Balmora privately, but he still kept up the telltale Telvanni paranoia of expecting to be killed anytime. To say he was a little odd would be an understatement.

“So, sera, can I get you anything? Scrib jelly on bread? Some scuttle?” Eddie replied in his quick, raspy voice as he rummaged through his pantry.

“No thanks, Eddie, I actually want you to look at something for me,” Taris replied, getting straight to the point. He didn’t have the time for pleasantries.

Eddie caught onto Taris’ serious tone and his happy mood dampened to one that matched the situation. He pulled up a seat across from Taris and fixed him with an attentive stare. “Well, what is it?”

Taris reached into his cloak and removed the dagger, placing it on the table to his right. “I need to know anything to everything about this dagger. It’s called Silverbrand and I believe it’s related to the Daedric Lord Boethiah, I also think it connects with a current problem my Guild is facing,” Taris said plainly, not seeking to embellish anything.

Eddie studied the dagger from afar; his eyes fixed intently on the weapon. “I can hear its power ringing even from here,” he muttered as if he was talking to himself. He turned his attention back to Taris. “I’ll need time to study this, if indeed you say this is a weapon blessed by the Daedra. Come back in 24 hours and I’ll tell you what I’ve discovered.”

Taris rose from his seat, satisfied for now. A day wasn’t that big of a deal if progress was being made. As he approached the door he turned back around. “I’m sorry that we don’t have time to actually talk, but once this is over I’ll do my best to pay you a visit.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure we will. Now leave me to my studying,” Eddie said in an annoyed tone, his eyes still fixed on the dagger and his hand waving in a “shooshing” motion.

A slight grin on his face, Taris closed the door.




Taris had spent the night at the Balmora chapter Guildhall. Free rooming and food was something one couldn’t just pass up. After that, he spent the morning walking around town. Reintroducing himself was what he felt like he was doing. In the afternoon he would stop by Eddie’s place.

When he knocked on the enchanter’s door, he was surprised to not get any answer. He knocked again and still no answer. Worry crept through him once again. He silently hoped that Eddie was just so focused in his studying that he couldn’t hear the knocking.

He tried the door and to his dismay he found it locked. Something wasn’t right. Eddie wouldn’t have his door locked at this time of the day. Cautiously, Taris scanned his surroundings for signs of guards. Feeling that he wasn’t being watched, he casually took out a lockpick and carefully went to picking the lock while trying to look inconspicuous. After several stressful moments, the door lock opened with a satisfied click. Taris eased the door open and went inside.

The sight that greeted him briefly stunned Taris. Eddie stood at the back of his home. His whole body was tense and rigid, and his eyes were glazed over in a trance-like state. Within his hand was Silverbrand, poised to strike directly into the mer’s heart.

Panic raced through Taris as he lunged across the room towards the enchanter. Before Eddie could plunge the dagger into himself, Taris crashed heavily with the Dunmer, taking them both to the ground. Silverbrand clattered to the floor beside him.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” Taris shouted at the dazed Eddie.

The glazed looked vanished from Eddie’s eyes as he looked around frightfully. His eyes finally made contact with Taris’ and he visually relaxed, sighing in relief. “Praise Azura you came!”

“What the hell were you doing!?” Taris said, deciding to reiterate his question.

Eddie blanched. “It wasn’t me doing it, Taris. It was the dagger,” he said nervously, casting his eyes towards the fallen dagger. His eyes returned back to Taris and Taris could see the fear plain and clear on the Dunmer’s face.

“That dagger, Taris, is bad news. Very bad news.”

Posted by: canis216 Feb 24 2007, 08:24 PM

Dun-dun-dun!

Very interesting indeed... I wonder how bad the news is?

Posted by: Black Hand Feb 24 2007, 08:53 PM

Hmm. A 'Daedric' dagger so to speak....maye there is an evil Daedric Spirit inside it?

Posted by: jack cloudy Feb 24 2007, 09:19 PM

That dagger is scaring me. Nice use of Eddie though.

Posted by: minque Feb 25 2007, 01:10 PM

EEEk! Hah! Nice interpretation of Fast Eddie....and the story is heading on just excellent. This dagger interests me, a dagger that wants to kill it´s bearer? I do agree wth Eddie....."That dagger surely is bad news!"

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 3 2007, 07:08 PM

And now, to deviate a little! Hehehe!



----------------------------------

Savlian’s frustrations were growing as the search for Simion continued. Simion had virtually become the needle hiding in the haystack that was Kvatch. Only this needle’s point was more than just pointy, it was deadly. It doesn’t simply want to wait to be found either, it wants to kill its searchers, and to end all attempts to be captured.

Taris had left days ago, off to search for clues to his radical claim. Savlian had then released Rah’mirr and instructed him and Sethyas to remain searching. What he didn’t tell them was that he now had people watching their movements; he wasn’t going to let them go unnoticed anymore. They seemed to make a habit out of getting themselves killed, and Savlian could do with fewer corpses on his conscience. He hoped they wouldn’t take his actions the wrong way.

Savlian was scanning a map of the downtown section of Kvatch when someone knocked on his office door. Without taking his eyes off the map, Savlian called whomever it was inside.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked in an annoyed tone.

A clearing of the throat caught Savlian’s attention, ripping his eyes away from the map. Upon seeing who it was, Savlian grimaced.

“Sorry, Ormeillus, sir. I should’ve seen who it was before speaking like that,” Savlian said apologetically to the Count of Kvatch.

The Count wore a hard smile. “You’re forgiven, as I see you’re hard at work on something.”

“That I am, that I am…” Savlian sighed, slumping into his chair.

Ormeillus approached Savlian’s desk and peered at the maps and reports that littered the desk.

“Would all of this happen to be about a report I recently received about two bodies found in the alleyways? Supposedly, two men, drenched in blood were taken in, but you released them,” Ormeillus inquired, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“Somewhat,” Savlian answered hesitantly.

Ormeillus leaned in towards Savlian, so that he was eye level with the sitting Captain. “I would like to know why you released them,” he said levelly, yet in an authoritative manner.

Savlian tried to look back into the intense eyes of the Ormeillus, but he faltered. He couldn’t lie to the man anymore. “Because I had met those two men before.”

Ormeillus’ eyebrows raised slightly, the only indication that he was surprised. “And how do you know these two men?” he asked, furthering the investigation.

“We all share the same interest in finding the person responsible for all these murders, sir,” Savlian answered, visibly shrinking before the towering Count.

“You’ve told me before that these recent murders were committed by someone else though,” Ormeillus stated, his eyes taking a hard, darkened tone.

Savlian swallowed deeply. If he admitted to his lie, how would the Count react? Would he be arrested and reprimanded? Would he be forgiven? Or would Ormeillus be angry that Savlian had let him kill Vernon? Fearing that lying would only make things worse, Savlian decided that the truth had to do.

“Sir, I have been misleading you. Ever since your brother was murdered, I knew who was behind it,” he began and then proceeded to speak of his deal with Simion, and the odd alliance with the Morag Tong assassins.

After Savlian’s speech, Ormeillus was left speechless, a blank look upon his face. The Count finally took a seat on the opposite side of the desk, and simply stared off in no particular direction. The silence of the moment was beginning to become unbearable for Savlian.

“I did what I had to for Kvatch. I will always put it before anything else,” he said with conviction, his eyes shining in the lamplight.

“Yes, I can see from your point of view. Your love for this town is truly one of a kind. I just wished you would’ve simply let Simion kill Vernon then arrested him. That way, we wouldn’t be in the present mess we’re in,” the Count said, his reverie broken.

“Am I to face any punishment?” Savlian asked. Though he feared what the punishment might be, he would accept his fate.

“I only wish for you to continue your search for this madman,” he said to the relieved Savlian, “I didn’t care much for my brother; he was the odd one of our family. While I did know of his… activities in Kvatch, I could do nothing. The Emperor would not allow cities fighting amongst themselves within his capitol province.”

“That is understandable, sir. I’m glad you’re willing to see things my way,” Savlian said.

“Even though I can, that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed in you. I suggest you don’t keep things from me again. For the next time, I might not see things your way,” Ormeillus said, the threat evidence in his voice.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Savlian said humbly.

Ormeillus then rose from his chair and stretched. “It is late. I suggest you go get some rest. We’ll start the hunt once more tomorrow,” Ormeillus said and stopped before exiting the office, “Oh yes, I’d also like to meet this Sethyas Velas.”

Savlian nodded as the Count exited his office. Once more he sighed in relief, happy with the fact that you wouldn’t be incriminated for the offence he had done. He also began to wonder whether how thrilled Sethyas was going to be when Savlian would tell him he was going to meet Ormeillus.

He could guess that he wasn’t going to be that thrilled. Far from it actually.

Posted by: Black Hand Mar 3 2007, 07:14 PM

You cruel, cruel man! Taking away from the Taris' discovery!! Good scenery switch there! Keep it up I say!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 14 2007, 09:01 PM

Sorry about the delay. Saturday was quite busy and I always have bit more trouble writing at home due to the fact that they're are plenty more distractions! But I guess a good writer shouldn't make excuses... Ohwell, I still do! Here's today's update! The next one should be a bit more action-packed for those of you anxiously waiting for some more bloodshed.


-------------------------------------------------------------

“What!?” Sethyas asked incredulously, his fork clattering upon his plate.

Savlian couldn’t help but look around the Inn to see if anyone was drawn to Sethyas’ outburst. Satisfied that no one cared, he repeated himself.

“The Count wishes to meet you. I suggest you’d don’t deny him.”

Sethyas leaned in towards him so that his face was merely inches away from his face. At this distance, Savlian could tell that Sethyas hadn’t been sleeping well lately. The assassin’s ember eyes seemed dimmer than they should’ve been, and they also sported heavy bags hanging underneath making his face appear as if it was drooping. Unkempt stubble littered his chin and the tone of his skin seemed paler than it should’ve been. Perhaps the stress of the situation was having its way with him.

“I came here under secrecy! I have a duty I must see to. I do not have the time to congregate with politicians! Especially Imperial ones!” Sethyas whispered harshly, his eyes briefly lighting up to an intense red.

Savlian was slightly taken aback by Sethyas’ prejudice remark. He couldn’t understand why Sethyas would be so hostile about this situation. If anything, Sethyas should be privileged to receive the Count’s audience. Obviously, there was something beyond the current situation that was making Sethyas react this way.

“Well I should warn you, Sethyas. If you don’t meet with Ormellius, your cover will most certainly be blown. On the other hand, you will more than likely preserve your secrecy if you do meet him. I can vouch for Ormellius; he’s a fair man.”

Sethyas’ eyes drifted downwards to the table, where they stayed while he thought on his decision. Savlian thought by the set of the Dunmer’s jaw, he was clenching his teeth. Finally, after a few moments, Sethyas ran his hands through his black hair, eventually clasping them behind his neck.

“Fine, I’ll go see this Count, but this better not take long,” he said in a defeated sigh.



Sethyas was more than a little agitated that he had to meet the Count of Kvatch. He had more pressing issues to deal with, namely finding Simion. But on the other hand, when your much needed secrecy is being threatened, a slight inconvenience can be tolerated in order to maintain your secrecy. So it was upon this reasoning that Sethyas now being led to Count Goldwine’s private office by Savlian.

There had been no conversation between Sethyas and Savlian as they had made their way to the castle. Sethyas was still somewhat sceptical of the Imperial, especially since he now revealed that they were willing to manipulate him in order to get what they wanted. Even now it seemed that Sethyas could not escape the Empire’s clutches. It was this that did little to improve his thoughts about Imperials in general. Very few had managed to earn his trust, and while Sethyas thought that Savlian might eventually earn that trust, this present manoeuvre had left Sethyas with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Savlian knocked upon the office door three times then waited for a reply. A muffled, stern voice called them in. Walking through, Sethyas immediately examined the surroundings of the office. There was a subdued aura of elegance encompassing the office. It wasn’t heavily furnished; just a grandiose mahogany desk and three large, and comfortable looking chairs. Draped along the walls were expertly drawn maps, some of which focused on certain areas while others were complete provincial maps. Sethyas attention then drifted to the man sitting behind the desk.

Ormellius was a broad-shouldered and fit middle-aged man. His face was clean shaven and his expression hard. Intelligence danced in his eyes. He was garbed in fine cloth, but it was cut in a rather conservative and militaristic style. No sense of elegance or vanity seemed to emanate from the man. Sethyas figured that this was the kind of person that took everything and anything seriously.

“Sir, this is the mer you asked for,” Savlian said, gesturing to Sethyas.

Count Goldwine rose from his chair. “Thank you, Captain. You may excuse yourself now,” he said as he rounded the desk.

Surprise flashed across Savlian’s eyes briefly before it was replaced with blank servitude. Clasping his right hand to his heart and bowing slightly, Savlian turned on his heel and exited the office, leaving Sethyas with the most powerful man in Kvatch.

The Count extended his hand. “Greetings, Sethyas Velas, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said humbly.

Sethyas gripped the hand with a black gloved hand. The Count’s grip was firm, but not crushing. As the handshake broke away though, Sethyas thought that the Count’s hand brushed against his ring in a purposeful way. “The greeting is humbly returned,” Sethyas replied.

The Count then beckoned Sethyas to take a seat, while the Count returned to the seat he had previously used. Under the desk, the Count retrieved two glasses and a bottle of Cyrodillic Brandy. “Care to have a glass? I have heard that our brandy is a favourite of yours,” the Count offered nonchalantly, popping the cork off the bottle.

Sethyas was caught off guard by the comment. “Sure…” he replied hesitantly as he looked carefully at the Count.

The Count busied himself with pouring the glasses, though he looked across the table at the Dunmer and a flat smile crossed his lips. After finishing topping off the glasses, he passed one over to Sethyas. “I won’t toy with you anymore, Sethyas. I have heard of your exploits before…” he said before taking a sip of the brandy, “Nerevarine.”

Sethyas scoffed. “So I take it that’s why you felt my hand for Moon and Star when we shook hands.”

The Count shrugged. “Subtlety was never my forte. I prefer blunt, straight to the point truth. I’m good at that.”

Sethyas took a sip of brandy, but still kept his apprehension. “So Count Goldwine, for what reason is it that you brought here?”

The Count clasped his hands and rested them upon the table. “Well, it does pertain to the current situation we’re dealing with. You see, Savlian had kept me in the dark about most of the details of this Simion problem until recently. He brought up your name, and to find out you, the Nerevarine, was in my town, I knew I had to speak with you.”

The Count’s statement made Sethyas curious about something. “Before we start talking about Simion I have one question: how well known am I here?”

“Well I personally keep an eye on international news. I like to keep on top of things. Plus, I believe we both share an acquaintance. His name is Caius Cosades. Other than that, I don‘t think many outside of the Blades would really know what you look like. They‘ve heard of the Nerevarine, but not many recall your name,” Ormellius replied.

“Caius! That old dog! I haven’t heard from his since he was recalled,” Sethyas exclaimed, “Speaking of which, how is he right now?”

“Last I heard he’s trying to separate himself form the Blades. Or at least, that’s what he told me, though sometimes you can’t trust a single thing that man says,” Ormellius replied as they both shared a laugh. Clearing his throat, Ormellius continued. “It’s time to get serious. I want you to tell me everything you know about this Simion situation. Don’t exclude anything.”

Sethyas followed the Count’s wish. He gave an account of his side of the story, informing him about what Simion was like while he was still in the Morag Tong, to the strange event against the Dark Brotherhood. He continued on, speaking of the trip to Kvatch and what had happened while he was here. The whole time, Ormellius listened carefully to his words, though he took sips of his brandy from time to time. After Sethyas was finished, the Count remained silent for a few moments as he pondered on the information.

Finally, his eyes met with the assassin. “Both of your stories match up, with some slight variances but nothing that would tell me that Savlian was still withholding information.”

Understanding dawned in Sethyas’ eyes. “So that’s why you asked Savlian to leave.”

Ormellius nodded before draining the last bit of his brandy. He looked out of the nearby window and noticed that the sun had moved a significant distance since Sethyas had arrived. “Looks like we’ll have to end our discussion here Sethyas; I have other duties to attend to before the day ends,” he said rising from his seat and extending his hand once more, “We’ll have to talk once again once this situation is taken care of. For now, I hope you choose to co-operate with us in catching Simion. You’re expertise will go a long way with us. Plus…” he paused, “Surely Simion must be less of a threat then say Dagoth Ur, or whatever other beasts you’ve dealt with.”

Sethyas made no comment to that statement as he returned the handshake; instead he simply thanked the Count before leaving. Once he was outside the castle he sighed audibly. The Count believed him to be some sort of hero, someone specifically here to vanquish evildoers with ease. That was never the case. All the things Sethyas had accomplished had been done simply because they had to be done. Had he not been thrown into the mess, he would’ve avoided it. But life had decided not to give him that luxury, instead choosing to involve him in prophecy and bloodshed.

The Count also thought that Simion was a simply challenge compared to what Sethyas had dealt with before. Again, that was not the case. Simion was something new, unique, for Sethyas. This was not some crazed god, inhumane beast, or an inept person underestimating him. Sure, he had dealt with assassins before, but Simion was an anomaly. He could certainly be the most skilled assassin he faced, but it is his sickness, his madness, that left a sense of uncertainty crawling up Sethyas’ spine. Right now, he was involved in a game of cat and mouse, and presently he didn’t know which character he was. Just thinking about that gave him the feeling that he was being watched. Shrugging the feeling away, he continued on, heading back to “The Flying Bosmer”.

He did not notice the quick flicker of black cloth whipping behind the cover of a chimney overhead.

Posted by: minque Mar 14 2007, 09:14 PM

Oh yeah....I think good writers could make up any excuse....the readers would wait patiently anyway! And you are a good writer! hehe I like your picture of a tired Sethyas! This story is a good read....I enjoyed it very much.

Posted by: canis216 Mar 15 2007, 12:37 AM

Nice update! It's well worth the wait, Mallet.

Posted by: jack cloudy Mar 15 2007, 09:23 PM

That was an interesting meeting.

I've been thinking about it, and Simion may be a worse enemy than Dagoth Ur. Why? Simple, Dagoth Ur never moved. You knew where he was at all times and you could trust him to do nothing while you planned for his demise and worked on your skills. Sure, there was the occasional Ash zombie but those weren't much trouble if you knew what you were doing.

Simion on the other hand, is stealthy and downright ruthless. He'll do anything to get the advantage before engaging in combat. And worst of all, he's moving.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 17 2007, 07:27 PM

My thoughts exactly Jack. And as you'll find out with this update, you see why Simion is dangerous to Sethyas... and pretty much everyone! Enjoy!


----------------------------

“Look at him…Strutting out of that place as if he owns it!” the Voice spat disdainfully within Simion’s head, “I could crush him like an ant!”

Simion crept behind the chimney of the home he stood upon, his nimble feet cradling the thatch roof with ease. Even though it was not even dark yet, his recent attack of the Tong assassins looking for him had emboldened him, pressuring him into more risky situations. Anything to help sedate the waves of pain the Voice would conjure up, Simion would do. The only thing that seemed to please it unfortunately was blood, battle, or risking his very own life. So even though he was escaping the Voice’s pain, he was only trading it in for a different pain of sorts. It was certainly more bearable, but damaging all the same. Simion absently wondered what kind of wreck his looked like. He hadn’t looked at himself in the mirror for quite some time. He could picture his haggard face in his mind. He could see his cheeks sunken from mal-nourishment, his face deathly pale, and his eyes sporting heavy, dark circles. It was a face of agony, a face of pain. A face of the monster he had become.

The Voice snickered. “Here you go again self deprecating. It would be amusing if I didn’t have to witness it every day. We have a task to do; get to it!”

Simion followed the Voice’s wish, using the rooftops to remain hidden from the red robed Dunmer below. None of his thoughts strayed from the task at hand. This was a crucial moment for him. If he took out Sethyas, he was more than certain that the Tong would likely stop their pursuit. He would then only have to worry about Savlian and the Kvatch guard; a much simpler task Simion thought.

Below, Sethyas turned left into a narrow and unused side street. Now was the time to strike. With a mighty bound, Simion leapt from one rooftop, crossed the road, and landed upon the rooftop on the opposite side. Simion cursed mentally as he realised his jump wasn’t as graceful as he hoped for since he feet clattered against the tiles of the new rooftop. Looking down, Simion noticed the Grand Master pause. Immediately Simion backed away from the ledge, his breath held anxiously as he waited for signs of discovery. Finally, after a few agonising moments, Simion heard footsteps from below. Unsheathing his dagger, a sly smile crept across Simion’s face. It was time.

Leaning over the edge, Simion could see Sethyas slightly ahead of him. Simion snaked down a rain water drain and softly touched feet upon the cobblestones. The Voice urged him on, demanding that blood be spilt. Simion desperately wanted it to. His grip tightened against the blade handle. He was now only feet away from Sethyas’ back. He arched the blade. Simion wrapped an arm around Sethyas, knife poised to slash into the Dunmer’s throat.

Suddenly, Simion found himself on his back, his head sundering in pain. Instincts kicked in as he rolled away from a descending dagger. Simion kicked out as he regained his feet, knocking back his opponent. The Voice screamed in dismay at the lost opportunity.

“You’re going to have to do better than that to catch me unawares, Simion,” Sethyas claimed, his Black Hands Dagger gripped in his hand.

“Do you honestly think I was trying?” Simion shot back, attempting to regain confidence after his embarrassing failure.

Sethyas didn’t answer as he lunged in for an attack, the Black Hands Dagger appearing to be a blur in his hands. Simion intercepted each attack with his own dagger. In a dagger fight, everything was extremely close quartered; someone was bound to get cut sooner or later. The advantage was in Sethyas’ hands though, since Simion knew the enchantment that coated the Black Hands Dagger. The thing can suck the life right out of you with just a scratch.

Simion engaged Sethyas once more, landing an elbow strike right to the jaw of the master assassin. Sethyas staggered back, dazed by the blow. Simion launched a leaping kick that caught Sethyas square in the chest, propelling him straight into the brick wall enclosing the street. Simion thrust his blade into Sethyas, only to feel it glance off the concealed armour Sethyas was wearing. Shocked, Sethyas managed to narrowly cut Simion across the cheek.

Simion fell backwards, gasping as the enchantment of the dagger sapped the health from him. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Sethyas was carefully getting back to his feet. His face was a mask of grim determination. Simion’s eyes gazed upwards where he was a bird drift across the blue clear sky. In his weakened state he knew that he was no match for the virtually uninjured Sethyas. Only the inevitable awaited him.

“I am not going to sit here and watch that happen!”

Simion found himself yet again suspended above himself in the hazy, grey cast world. He could his body surge to his feet just as Sethyas prepared the final stroke to end his life. His body caught the descending arm mid strike, instantly stopping the attack. Shock and confusion registered in Sethyas eyes as he stared into the malevolent grin of the Voice. Almost with ease, Simion body managed to toss aside Sethyas, who instinctively rolled with the fall and regained his feet easily. Simion’s body simply stood there, patiently waiting for Sethyas to make the next move.

Sethyas exchanged his Black Hands Dagger for a mean looking Daedric katana, hoping to use the length of the deadly weapon to his advantage. Sethyas charged in and swiped horizontally. Simion’s body ducked under the attack and shoulder charged right into Sethyas. Air exploded out of Sethyas’ lungs as he was tackled to the floor. Simion’s body stood up and kicked the fallen assassin, buckling him even further.

Simion watched his body brush away the crimson staining his cheek, a wry smirk now crossing his face. “Get up, Sethyas, there’s still plenty of fight left in ya,” the Voice said mockingly.

Sethyas struggled to his feet and forced his sword into a guard position. Simion’s body casually stalked around Sethyas, his eyes full of disdain and contempt. His body feinted and Sethyas flinched, causing the Voice to chuckle. Sethyas tried to lunge in for an attack, his katana was sent whistling towards Simion’s head. Simion calmly ducked under this attack and swiftly punched Sethyas right in the nose, snapping the Dunmer’s head backwards. Crimson now trickled from the nose of Sethyas, who absently brushed it away as he thought of a new approach.

Still, Simion’s body decided to wait for Sethyas to act first. Sethyas answered this by swinging his katana yet again at Simion’s head, only this time he swiftly followed the attack with a kick that caught Simion right in the jaw. Simion’s head snapped back and fell to the floor. Sethyas went for an overhead chop, yet somehow Simion’s body recovered enough that catch the attack in both of his daggers, held in a pincher formation. Simion’s body kicked Sethyas’ feet from under him and he managed to get back to his feet.

Now, Simion’s body decided to press the attack, as he used both his daggers simultaneously. The daggers looked like a whirlwind as swiped at Sethyas. Sethyas was defending the attack well until one of the daggers caught his forearm, causing him to drop his sword. He then resorted to ducking and weaving, which didn’t work at well. Fortunately his armour was providing enough protection against the silver daggers. Sparks flew as each blow struck the armour with such force.

He has him finished. It won’t be long now…

It just so happened that at that instant, a cry rose from down the street. Several Town Guard were heading towards the fight. Simion’s body caught sight of this and frowned sadly. He kicked Sethyas down to floor yet again.

“Consider yourself lucky, Archmaster, next time I’ll make sure you don’t survive,” the Voice said coldly as he withdrew a throwing knife. Once the Guardsmen were within range, Simion’s body threw the knife, which expertly entered into the throat of the closest guard. Flinging himself backwards into the other guards, the dying guard gurgled on his blood in horror. It was at this moment that Simion’s body took the advantage and fled.

As his body was fleeing, Simion managed to look back and see the guards huddling over Sethyas and the dying. The grey world only enhanced their expressions of dismay and horror. Even from this distance, the crimson blood still stood out like a beacon.

And all Simion could think was “Damn, we didn’t get him!”

Posted by: Black Hand Mar 17 2007, 08:15 PM

Duuuulce!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 17 2007, 08:27 PM

??????

Not quite sure what that means, Black, my friend.

Posted by: minque Mar 17 2007, 09:57 PM

It means something nice..it just has to...because this update was indeed a ...well not exactly nice n´but well written as always.....go for it Mallie!

Posted by: Black Hand Mar 17 2007, 11:05 PM

Dulce is Sweet in spanish.

Duuulce = Sweeeet.

Posted by: minque Mar 17 2007, 11:17 PM

Ahhh I just thought it meant something like that! Well I agree anyway

Posted by: canis216 Mar 18 2007, 02:53 AM

Sweet indeed... and it seems that the voice is somehow more skilled than Simion, or perhaps fully unlocks his deadly potential. Quite chilling.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 24 2007, 06:40 PM

Another shorter one today. I hope you enjoy it all the same, though.



--------------------------------

Savlian walked into the Infirmary wing of the Barracks, a concerned expression on his face. The stench of blood, medicine, and bedpans greeted his nostrils as he entered. Rows of beds lined the walls of the room. Very few of them were occupied though, as only the few who had received serious injuries in the final battle against Hlodir still remained. That was not totally correct though, two beds had recently been taken. In one rested the silent corpse of a guardsman. The sheets had been pulled the body, covering it completely but a blotch of dark blood stained the cranial region of the body. Savlian’s gaze held upon that spot momentarily.

Another body on my conscience… he thought bitterly and turned his attention to the patient lying across from the body.

Sethyas rested in his bed slightly seated. His body was slightly paler due to blood loss, making the black hand tattoo that covered his face all the more vivid. Bandages covered several spots on his chest and a large padded bandage covered much of his right forearm. His eyes were closed, and his even breathing told Savlian that the assassin was likely sleeping. Savlian calmly pulled up a chair beside the bed and waited for Sethyas to awaken.

It took little more than an hour for Sethyas to stir. His ember eyes winced as he tried to sit up even further. It wasn’t until then that he noticed Savlian sitting beside him.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting that long,” Sethyas said, his raspy voice covering up the grogginess in his voice.

Savlian shook his head. “No, not long. I felt that you deserved some rest though. You’ve been looking like Guar dung as of late,” he replied with a dry smirk.

Sethyas frowned but said nothing. Savlian continued. “How are you feeling?”

Sethyas looked down and examined his body. “Just a lot of minor slashes, excluding the one on my arm. That one was deep,” he paused briefly, “Why don’t you give me some potions so I can get out of here?”

“Like I said, I feel like you deserve some rest. Potions will only make you feel that much weaker. Let yourself heal naturally for a bit. Regain your strength,” Savlian replied.

Sethyas’ frown increased. “I’m not going to sit here idly while he’s out there!” he said heatedly.

Savlian knew he wasn’t going to sway Sethyas mind so he conceded. “Fine, but for today you’re resting. You’ll get your potions tomorrow,” he said in an annoyed fashion. After Sethyas expression brightened Savlian continued, “So what happened?”

Sethyas struggled through his depiction of what happened. Savlian thought he explained well, giving a thorough description of the fight. It was unsettling hearing how drastically the tables had turned upon Sethyas.

“He was just toying with me after he stopped me from killing him. It was as if I was fighting someone completely different. Something changed in his eyes… in his movements. It caught me off guard,” Sethyas replied, a haunted look etched on his face, “He wasn’t even trying until I kicked him and then he just went nuts! Normally I know how to deal with those types, but I was just out of it. I could only react; only focus on defence rather than offence… I’d be a goner if your men didn’t show up.”

Savlian’s expression was grim. “Just be thankful that they did. Now you have the chance to redeem yourself,” he said with encouragement.

Sethyas cursed. “I should’ve known something suspicious was going to happen when I heard that noise!” he sighed, “I guess the lack of sleep has been affecting me…”

Savlian rose from his chair. “Then I’ll let you get some rest then. I’ll speak with you again tomorrow,” he said, bidding Sethyas goodbye.

A gnawing pit of doubt gripped at Savlian’s gut as he left the Infirmary. Sethyas’ description of the fight perturbed Savlian. Sethyas was the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong, and according to his statement, he was nearly killed by an assassin that previously was of a lower rank and retired. Sure, the lack of sleep Sethyas had could’ve affected the outcome of the fight, but Savlian thought Sethyas’ excuse was more of a cover up for Sethyas’ wounded ego. Still the fact that a great assassin was defeated so easily did not help Savlian’s confidence one bit.

But he was only defeated so easily after this supposed change happened… Before that, Sethyas had been doing fine, or so he said. Could this change only be triggered when Simion’s life was threatened? Perhaps Savlian could defeat Simion before this “change” happens.

Savlian shook his head. No, he couldn’t have changed; it just didn’t make sense. Sethyas must’ve just become overconfident and when Simion caught his second wind, he managed to mangle the bewildered assassin. That was the logical explanation. Sethyas was just being influenced by his partner’s ridiculous claim that Simion was possessed or something. In the heat of battle, one can see strange things that aren’t there, especially when there’s blood loss added into the mix. That had to be what affected Sethyas. If Savlian had seen it once, he had seen it plenty of times.

It just so happened that as Savlian left the Infirmary, he came face to face with the Khajiit assassin, Rah’mirr. They both nodded a greeting to each other but Savlian held the Khajiit before he entered the Infirmary.

“Might we speak for a brief moment?” Savlian inquired.

An inquisitive look crossed Rah’mirr’s face. “Sure, Rah’mirr will speak with you, Captain.”

“Good. What I want to talk about pertains to Sethyas. I –“ Savlian stopped short as Rah’mirr’s face suddenly turned from calm to alarmed. “Oh no! He’s fine, he only suffered some scratches. Sorry to frighten you like that,” he said quickly, attempting to ease the Khajiit’s mind.

Rah’mirr sighed in relief and his expression returned to the original calmness he displayed. “Go on then, Captain.”

Savlian took a moment to rethink on the phrasing of his question but quickly decided to be blunt. “I was just curious to know if Sethyas has a history of seeing things.”

“Seeing things?” Rah’mirr asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

Savlian shifted his weight of his feet in awkwardness. “You know, like he sees things that aren’t there or he misinterprets events,” Savlian elaborated.

“He is the Nerevarine, of course he can see things we can’t see,” Rah’mirr replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Nerevarine? What the heck is that?” Savlian asked.

Rah’mirr’s eyes widened. “You must forget what Rah’mirr told you. Rah’mirr has made a foolish mistake!” he said, scolding himself before entering the Infirmary in a hurried manner.

Savlian simply stood there and scratched his head. This is becoming more and more strange…

Posted by: Black Hand Mar 24 2007, 06:51 PM

Nice Depiction there! The Nerevarine sees things we cant?....

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 24 2007, 06:57 PM

Well, he does see Azura, and haven't you written like doubled visions from the past and stuff like that before? You know, like the one he shares with Nerevar? I could be confusing that with Trey though...

Posted by: jack cloudy Mar 24 2007, 11:17 PM

For someone living in a world with a mage guild and magical beasties running around in the countryside, Savlian seems rather unwilling to consider the influence of magicka when he's on a case. Still nice stuff though.

Posted by: Black Hand Mar 25 2007, 06:18 AM

oooohhh. Yes, yes I have....

Posted by: minque Mar 25 2007, 11:53 AM

Ahhh Mallie....great as always! And about seeing Azura...well I know one who sees her pretty often and that person isn´t even Nerevarine..

Posted by: mplantinga Mar 27 2007, 04:58 AM

I just got caught up, and I've really enjoyed the things you did with the last few updates. I especially enjoyed Simion's fight with Sethyas. I wonder if the use of silverbrand will be required to defeat Simion? That would be an even more interesting battle, if both combatants are possessed during the fight. I guess I'll have to (try to) be patient and wait to find out.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Apr 7 2007, 08:03 PM

And we're back! Or should I say, I am back! Here's the long-awaited update to my story, enjoy it for what it's worth!


-----------------------------


As Savlian returned to the barracks, his thoughts kept going back to Rah’mirr’s odd comment about Sethyas being a “Nerevarine”. The fact that the Khajiit told him to forget about right after only furthered his curiosity. Obviously, this title held some importance, and Savlian wanted to find out what that exactly entailed. But the problem was how he was going to find this answer. All possible path eluded him.

Savlian did not want to Sethyas right out, mostly because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the assassin should this title be something completely inane or trivial. He also was just speaking with Sethyas so it would be inconsiderate to the mer’s recovery to bother him about such a thing. No, Savlian would just have to find an alternative method.

During his trek back to the barracks, Savlian took a spur of the moment detour to the Count’s Castle. The dismissal from attending the meeting between Sethyas and the Count refreshed itself in Savlian’s mind and his curiosity was piqued once more.

Savlian casually knocked onto Ormellius’ door and the Count bade him to enter. Savlian opened the door and saw that Ormellius at his desk, his concentration set upon the documents that took up copious amounts of space on his desk.

“Sir, if I could just take your time for a second,” Savlian asked courteously.

“Ask away,” Ormellius replied, not even taking his eyes away from the document he was looking at.

“Have you ever heard of the term ‘Nerevarine’ before?”

Ormellius’ eyes lifted from the page and fixed Savlian with a sceptical and suspecting gaze. “Where did you hear that word?”

Savlian all ready knew the Count knew something as soon as he looked at him the way he did. “I heard it from the assassin, Rah’mirr. That’s what he called Sethyas, but he became very quiet about the subject as soon as I mentioned it to him. It’s unsettling.”

Ormellius paused momentarily, but then his eyes returned to the page he had been reading. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” Ormellius replied in a concluding tone.

Frustration attacked Savlian’s senses and he started to waver on his feet, his thoughts struggling between curiosity and obedience. Finally, he stood still. “Sir, I know you know something about this matter. I’d like to know what it is,” Savlian said with forced evenness.

Ormellius looked up from the page once again, only anger and annoyance were displayed in his eyes. “I thought I told you that this matter does not concern you,” he reiterated in an icy tone.

Savlian didn’t back down though. “If you expect me to co-operate with these assassins I need to know about this. I believe it’s connected to this case. This is why you excluded me from your conversation with Sethyas wasn’t it?” he shot back.

Ormellius shot up from his chair. “Yes! Our talk was about that, and among other things. I dismissed you because you didn’t need to be involved in our discussion. Now you keep that tone in check, Captain,” Ormellius warned the reddening Captain.

The Count didn’t intimidate Savlian; he had faced worse for several years with Vernon. “I don’t deserve having information like this withheld from me. It’s not fair,” Savlian said.

“Yes, and you’ve been completely honest with me,” Ormellius interjected sarcastically.

The commented silenced the Captain for a moment, casting his eyes downwards and to the side. “Be that as it may, I did tell you the truth in the end,” Savlian finally said, his voice hard.

“I appreciate that, but that was completely necessary. This on the other hand isn’t. Now, is there anything else we need to discuss because if not, I suggest that you take your leave,” Ormellius said as he returned to his seat.

Tight-lipped, Savlian hastily saluted his superior before vacating the room. Within, Savlian was fuming but to those around him, it only appeared that the Captain was simply sombre. It wasn’t until he was within the isolation provided by his office in the barracks that he unleashed his emotions.

Slamming his fists on his desk caused the objects on top of the desk to rattle. Savlian growling in frustration and pent up anger as he paced around his office. He wrung his hands through his hair and clenched his fists at his sides. How could this not be important! Savlian fumed, why couldn’t he just tell me?

Savlian couldn’t help but think that he had lost the Count’s trust in him that he was now paying for it. Perhaps that meant he would eventually be told what he wanted to know. Savlian sighed. No, Ormellius didn’t seem to be the type that did that. Ormellius seemed to stick to his original viewpoint, at least in matters like these. If he was going to get the answer, it would have to be another alternative method.

From within his desk, Savlian pulled out a bottle of brandy and a glass. The last time he drank, he ended up on the losing end of a Hlodir beating. Savlian scoffed. Well, now there was no more Hlodir to bother him. He popped the bottle open and poured himself a glass. Holding the amber substance before his eyes Savlian made a sombre toast before emptying the glass in one gulp.



Savlian awoke with the vile taste of bile in his mouth and a queasy stomach. The bottle of brandy resting on his desk was nearly three-quarters empty. Not bad for one who doesn’t drink all that often… Savlian briefly thought then winced as he realised that he was beginning to develop a headache. By listening to the noise of activity in the hallway, Savlian could tell the day was all ready well under way.

Savlian made his way to a convenient washbasin and splashed his face with cool water. Looking in the mirror, Savlian saw bloodshot eyes and a groggy mug staring back at him.

And I thought Sethyas looked bad…

The sudden thought reminded Savlian that the assassin was to be released today. Quickly Savlian attempted to make himself look presentable before making his way to the Infirmary.

Once there, he found that the assassin was all ready out of bed and dressed. It seemed like the rest had done wonders for Sethyas, as vigour seemed to have replaced the sagging in his face. The Grandmaster had shaved as well.

Sethyas smiled as he saw Savlian appeared. “Good morning, Captain. My! You look like you had a rough night,” he said, stifling a snicker.

Savlian glowered at first but eventually smiled. “Good to see that you recuperated well.”

Sethyas nodded. “Yes, I feel much better. My arm wound still gets sore from time to time though,” he replied, indicated the still bandaged arm.

“Sorry to hear that…” Savlian started then paused, “But can I ask you about something privately?”

Sethyas instantly transition from a light to a serious mood, picking up the hesitance of his company. “Sure,” he replied before leading the Captain to a secluded section of the Infirmary. Once there, Sethyas asked him what was going on.

“Well, I stumbled across a title I’ve heard about you. Have you ever been called “The Nerevarine”?” Savlian asked.

Sethyas studied Savlian for a few moments. Then he snickered, “It’s not often that someone asks me that and honestly not know what he or she are talking about.”

Savlian was surprised by Sethyas’ reaction. “So what does that title actually mean?”

Sethyas then went into a quick summary of how he was suspected by the Empire to be the one who was involved in a Dunmer prophecy. That he was the reincarnation of a long dead Dunmer General. He briefly told of the trials that he had to do in order to prove the prophecy was applicable to him. He also mentioned the purpose of the prophecy. The whole story left Savlian dumbfounded.

“To say the least, I’m known throughout the land. Though sometimes it’s only under the title of Nerevarine. Most people don’t know what I look like or my true name. Count Ormellius on the other hand did. He’s pretty bright for an Imperial,” Sethyas added with a smile.

“So that’s what your meeting was about right?” Savlian inquired.

“Yes, I also gave my account and what’s been going on,” Sethyas added.

Savlian frowned. “So he was checking if I was being truthful. He has lost trust in me,” he said bitterly.

Sethyas placed a hand on the shoulder of the Captain. “I’m sure he still trusts in your abilities, Savlian.”

“Well, he certainly will, once I put this situation with Simion to an end!” Savlian replied with conviction.

“I do hope Taris gets here soon then. He must have the answers we need,” Sethyas said, much to the chagrin of Savlian.

Posted by: Lord Revan Apr 7 2007, 08:40 PM

Tension between Savlian and the Count. Sounds a lot like Karme, "what goes around comes around."
Certainly seems like the clock is ticking for Simion, not long before midnight!

Posted by: jack cloudy Apr 7 2007, 10:13 PM

I was hoping that they'd become friends. Guess that isn't so easy. A Count has things to do, and I bet he's still busy cleaning the mess of his death brother.

Posted by: Black Hand Apr 8 2007, 06:51 AM

Nice to see an update here, sorry that I've been lax in my participation in the forums. Work sucks, on a side note...

Posted by: canis216 Apr 8 2007, 07:40 AM

I've been lax myself... work is partly to blame, as is other writing (for class). I just haven't been in Morrowind-writing mode. But it's nice to see this story updated. As always, I'm eagerly awaiting whatever may come next.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Apr 14 2007, 07:03 PM

All righty! Our slight detour is at an end. Let's see how Taris is doing!

-----------------------------


A stiff sea breeze blew off of Taris’ face as he stood on the prow of Mercy’s Gift, a transport boat that ran from Ebonheart to Sadrith Mora. Zafirbel Bay was exceptionally beautiful this time of year, but Taris’ mind was preoccupied with more important things. His talk with Fast Eddie still ran through his head:

“That dagger, Taris, is bad news. Very bad news.”

Taris examined the fear-stricken Dunmer with concern on his face. “Take your time, Eddie.”

Fast Eddie got to his feet and attempted to compose himself. Running his fingers through his hair only made him look even more dishevelled than before. It took a few more moments of Eddie take deep breaths before he was finally able to talk.

“Silverbrand is definitely a weapon associated with Boethiah just like you surmised. My initial examination of the blade revealed a relatively strong fire enchantment, much like the one that the legendary katana, Goldbrand, possesses. But considering the concern you expressed about the weapon I decided to further delve into the enchantment on the blade,” Eddie stated in slew of words before his breath gave out.

“Whoa, whoa! Slow down Eddie, I need to follow along remember,” Taris instructed Fast Eddie.

Eddie nodded and took a deep slow breath. “As most native Dunmer know, Boethiah is a revered God around here, so any artefact blessed by Boethiah is equally as revered. It is also known that Boethiah has a lust of battle and of bloodshed, which is why tournaments and duels are held to celebrate and serve him. The lust of bloodshed is key here. Boethiah loves it, and by examining this blade, I found something.

“The enchantment on this blade reacts to the blood that’s spilt over it; in more ways than one. It’s as if the blade can judge a person by having their blood placed upon it. It’s like a trial by fire, if you survive the ordeal a “gift” is placed upon you, otherwise the blade kills you. This gift is basically a manifestation of Boethiah’s bloodlust, which is created by isolating sections of the user’s mind with like-minded ideals as Boethiah. It then basically creates a separate identity within the user and harbours itself there, choosing when to take control of the user basically at will.

“For some, this manifestation might only be inclined to get into fist fights all the time and satisfy itself with broken bones or a bloody face. But for others, let’s say those who are all ready murderers or killers, the manifestation is constantly hungering for bloodshed and death. That is why your father, and this assassin killed so many people, to appease the manifestation.”

Taris took the information in silence, processing all the information that was given to him. Something glaring came to mind though.

“Why were you about to kill yourself then?”

“Like I told you before, the blade judges you. It knew what I intended to do once I decided to use my blood on it. It didn’t want such information to be revealed so it sought to get rid of me. Fortunately you showed up. And I’m certain that it didn’t bestow its “gift” upon me if that concern comes upon you as well. I just can’t handle that blade anymore. Gods, I suggest that no one should handle,” Eddie answered as he paled once more as the event that could’ve happened resurfaced in his mind, “But if you do have to handle it, make sure you kill the person with it and make sure you don’t bleed on it. Your manifestation would be a bad one due to your profession,” Eddie answered.

“Is there any way to get rid of the manifestation?” Taris inquired, somewhat relieved that Eddie was going to be ok.

Eddie scratched his chin; his eyes had a look of contemplation upon them. “Possibly, I personally can’t try anything because of the current situation I placed upon myself. I do know someone you can trust who might be able to figure out a way.”



That person was where Taris was heading to now. Genille Aenagwen was a private enchanter in Sadrith Mora and a supposed friend of Eddie. The Telvanni allowed her to perform her practice within the city because she provided her services at discounted rates for House members. Taris silently hoped that she was everything that Eddie said.

Stepping off of the docks Taris approached the gateway entrance to Sadrith Mora. Staring up at the mushroom towers and homes Taris couldn’t help but think about how unique Vvardenfell was, and about how strange the Telvanni could be that they would think a giant, hollowed out mushroom would be ideal shape for a home.

Pushing the thought aside, Taris flashed his Hospitality Papers to the guard attending the gateway and was waved through. Taris had long since given up on the reasoning behind the papers that allowed him access to the city. If anything, it was just a scam for the Inn to make some extra money.

Taris made his way past the street vendors hawking their wares and proceeded past the Morag Tong Guildhall, placing him into the private business district of the town. Taris read the banner outside of one of the mushroom homes: Private Enchanter: Genille Aenagwen. Taris entered the home, bowing through the small door.

The home was relatively dark; the light source was a cool blue emanating from pods that grew out of the walls of the building. Genille, an Altmer, was sitting at a table, busily working on what looked like a robe. Taris cleared his throat.

“Yes, yes! Just get comfortable. Can’t you see I’m busy?” she said in an annoyed tone, her eyes not once looking over to see who her customer was.

Taris’ face tightened, but he didn’t say anything as he took a chair that was conveniently placed beside the exit. As he waited, Taris paid particular attention to Genille. As with most elves, it was difficult to determine exact age, but Taris felt confident that Genille was much older than he was. Taris thought he could see small wisps of grey in her auburn hair, yet her golden skinned face was not creased by time. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she worked on the robe, which for the most part involved her going through shelves of soul gems, which sparkled against the blue light. Once she finally picked a soul gem, it didn’t take long for her to place the small stone onto the robe and cupping her hands over it. Genille closed her eyes and Taris could see her mouthing unheard words before a flash of purple burst through the cracks between her fingers and vanished. Taking her hands away, Taris could see that the gem no longer was there and that the robe now appeared to have a slight purple hue to it.

Shaking the robe, Genille examined the robe at an arm’s length. With a sound of satisfaction, she folded up the robe and placed it in a closet. Finally, she turned to Taris.
“What can I do for you, sera?”

“I have an object for you to look at. Fast Eddie said you could help me out,” Taris said as he began to rummage through his pack.

A warm smile crossed Genille’s face. “Oh! So you know Eddie! I hope he hasn’t been in any trouble lately. How’s he doing?” she asked.

“Well, he nearly killed himself when he was looking at this, but besides that he’s seemed to be doing fine,” Taris said, hoping to cut the small talk as soon as possible.

It seemed his comment worked as Genille’s face turned serious. “Well let’s see it then.”

Taris removed an object covered in cloth. He unfolded the cloth to reveal Silverbrand and a letter. “That letter is from Eddie. It contains his account of his discoveries; I strongly suggest you read that first,” Taris instructed.

Genille scanned through the note. Her expression changing from wonder, to shock, to horror at times. Finally she placed the note down, her face was paler than it was before and she kept casting glances at the blade resting on the table.

“Are you all right, Genille?” Taris asked.

“All right… No, I don’t think I am. You’re asking me to tinker around with an enchantment that could kill me!” she snapped.

“Oh… Well, if that’s the case I’ll just be on my way and find someone else to look at it,” Taris said, crestfallen.

“No! You can’t go. Eddie’s right about trusting me. Any other enchanter you go to with this will likely try to exploit a weapon like this. We can’t risk that,” Genille said in a rush.

“So you’ll look at it?” Taris asked.

Genille sighed. “Yes, I’ll look at it. I want you to come in each day though; I don’t want to end up killing myself either.”

Posted by: mplantinga Apr 14 2007, 07:10 PM

Another excellent update. I'm really enjoying the story behind this complex enchantment. I do hope that Genille is able to determine a way to break the curse without suffering too much herself.

Posted by: Black Hand Apr 14 2007, 07:37 PM

AWE-some!! Keep it up mally!!

Posted by: jack cloudy Apr 14 2007, 08:59 PM

What the Hand said. Silverbrand just sounds scary though it also explains the Voice's nature.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet May 12 2007, 06:41 PM

Wow, nearly a month since I last updated this. Sorry for the wait. Holidays and catching up certaintly takes away from my writing time unfortunately. Also, since I'm getting quite close to the epic conclusion of this story, I feel like I need to take my time with it in order to give it the justice it deserves. I don't want it to feel lackluster, so that might separation the frequency of my updates somewhat, but hopefully that won't be the case.

Well, enough of my prattling, here's today's update!



----------------------------------------

As the days passed, Taris began to get more frustrated and anxious knowing that each day spent trying to break the enchantment on Silverbrand gave Simion more time to cause damage. For all he knew, Sethyas and the others could be dead, leaving him, a relative rookie, the job of finishing off Simion alone. Taris didn’t know if he could manage such a dire responsibility. Not without Sethyas there to encourage him.

Despite his anxiousness, Genille was firm about the fact that she had to take her time studying the weapon. Going too fast would likely end in tragedy, something she certainly wished to avoid and Taris was forced to comply with her wishes. He didn’t have to be happy about it though.

His time spent in Sadrith Mora had now fell into a routine based around Genille. Every morning, he would pop into Genille’s for an update on the situation. Following that, Taris would either browse the shops or taverns around town. He would eat all of his meals with Genille, which he thought was an effective way to make sure she didn’t harm herself. Not once did he stop by the Morag Tong Guildhouse. He wouldn’t be able to handle the questions about the current situation should he visit his Guildhall.

One particular afternoon, Taris decided to head to the beach coast to seek some change in scenery. Genille had said at lunch that she thought she was close to making a breakthrough in her studies but warned Taris to not get too optimistic. Perhaps his visit to the coast would help settle the rising anticipation.

A salty breeze gently blew around Taris as he stared off at the waves lightly lapping against the beach. Taris couldn’t help but wonder why life couldn’t be like the tides: constant, unyielding, and predictable. Things would be much simpler; not a complex mess like things currently appeared to be.

Yet Taris knew that life could never be like that. Sure, some things were fated to be, else why would the Gods exist? But outside divinity, life was unpredictable. Youngsters aspiring to be warriors and soldiers become bakers or politicians after receiving their first injury. The rich merchant suddenly goes bankrupt after a major investment collapses. Nothing in this world is easy and consistence. Else, everyone would survive life late into his or her lives. Life was meant to be hard and difficult to manage. People were meant to persevere through their obstacles and overcome their problems. That was what Taris decided to do.

Taris jumped as a hand lightly placed itself on his shoulder. Turning abruptly around, Taris found himself staring into the wide eyes of Genille.

Taris eased down. “Sorry Genille. One in my profession can get edgy when someone manages to sneak up on them,” he said apologetically.

Genille, no longer wide-eyed, answered back. “I didn’t intend to sneak up on you.”

Was I that lost in my thoughts? Taris thought. Sethyas would kill me for such folly… It seems that this mission has really done a number on me…

“Do not worry about it, Genille. I’ve been out of sorts lately due to all this Silverbrand business and whatnot,” Taris said tiredly as he ran his hands across his face.

“Well I have some good news for you then,” Genille said smiling, “I believe I’ve solved your problem.”

The exhaustion and apprehension immediately drained from Taris’ face. “You have? That’s great!” he said, elated.

Genille’s smile widened and she began to head back to town, beckoning the assassin to follow her. Taris readily complied with the Altmer, so eager was her to find out how to end this madness that had been plaguing Kvatch.

The two elves entered Genille’s shop and Taris saw that the blade had been left on the table. Genille pulled out a seat for herself and indicated that Taris should take one as well. The two took their seats and Genille pulled the blade closer to her; she fixed the blade with a calculating gaze.

“So… How do we get rid of the manifestation?” asked after a few moments. Genille had yet to start since it appeared that she was going over her thoughts.

Genille lifted her eyes from the blade to Taris. A hard, determined look greeted him. “This isn’t going to be easy, I’ll tell you that much,” she said sternly.

“Well I can’t give up now. I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” Taris said with conviction, returning the determined look to the enchanter.

Genille nodded. “Good. This is what I’ve figured out. The blade and its enchantment are key factors in getting rid of the manifestation within Simion. In order to destroy the manifestation, the blade must rejoin with the enchantment. In other words, Silverbrand has to be piercing the flesh of Simion, just coated in his blood is not enough given the circumstance that removing a manifestation is tougher then getting one. That’ll be the tough part. Once that is done, the enchantment stone must then be broken.”

“Enchantment stone?” Taris asked, completely ignorant of the term.

“Basically, an enchantment stone is the result of the reverse process of enchanting. The removal of an enchantment back into a soul gem. Thing is, the soul gem turns to stone and becomes useless. Only a few limited enchanters know how to even perform such a feat. Fortunately for you, Eddie knows the only enchanter capable of doing this on Vvardenfell,” she said grinning.

Taris looked around the shop. “So where’s the enchantment stone for Silverbrand?”

Genille’s expression turned serious once more. “I have yet to perform that feat. I need you here to look after me since I have no idea how the enchantment will react to me removing it. This is the other tough part,” she said with a grim smile.

Taris nodded. “I can do that.”

Genille took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She opened them and resolve replaced the worry she displayed earlier. “Time to get this over and done with then. I suggest you give me some room,” she said, nodding towards the chair by the exit, “Lock the door while you’re at it.”

Taris went and locked the door, all the while the tension seemed to build in the room. Finally, he had a goal to reach for. Yet, for it to even be considered, Genille needed to make this happen. There was nothing he could do for her but give her support and protection. Hopefully that would be all she needed.

“Good luck, Genille,” Taris said kindly.

Genille smiled to Taris before setting her intention the Silverbrand. She cupped her hands over the blade and closed her eyes in concentration. To her right rested a Grand Soul Gem, an object that could hold the mightiest and most powerful souls.

It didn’t much time before Taris could hear a faint hum originating from Genille’s hands. A dark red miasma began to seep from the cracks of her fingers. The hum began to rise in pitch and black flashes of anti-light began to complement the red miasma. Taris could then see that Genille was shaking in exertion, sweat was rapidly forming across her brow. Taris began to edge out of his seat, worried for the safety of the enchanter but almost instinctively, Genille shook her head. It was as if she was in tuned with her surroundings, yet she did not need to use her eyes to do so.

Taris felt relieved for a few minutes as he carefully watched the shaking Genille for signs of danger. It was then that he began to hear a searing sound rising above the hum. Genille’s hands were burning.

“Genille!” Taris cried, rising out of his chair.

The Altmer began to shake her head furiously, even though her face was contorted in pain. She still wanted to go on. Now the entire table was shaking and the black essence had completely taken over the red miasma and began to hover over Genille’s head. Taris stood conflicted between letting Genille have her way or ending the pain she was going through.

“Genille! Just hang on!” he urged, “I think you’ve almost got it!”

The black essence was slowly being sucked into the soul gem and as it did the extremity of the situation seemed to lessen. First the rumbling went away, and then Genille’s hands were no longer being burnt. Finally, the last cloud of the black essence seeped into the soul gem and instantly the crystal turned to stone. Genille collapsed against her table, her body shuddered as she tired to regain her breath.

Taris wrapped his arms around the Altmer and held her close. “You did it Genille! You made an enchantment stone!” he whispered into her ear.

“Could you… perhaps… see to my… hands please?” she managed to gasp out before she started struggling to chuckle.

Taris distanced the embrace. “Oh yes! Of course! Your hands,” he said dumbfounded before cursing his thoughtlessness.

Genille sat weakly in her chair as she watched Taris bustle around for an ointment or potion. “It’s all right Taris. I’m going to be ok.”

Posted by: jack cloudy May 12 2007, 09:01 PM

Wow, that was great. I loved the Enchantment stone bussiness. Unexpected but well written. Now Taris has a weapon that can 'slay' the voice. The only remaining problem is actually sticking it into Simion without getting killed.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet May 19 2007, 06:46 PM

Man, it feels like I'm getting close to ending this. You'll find out why when you finish reading this...

-----------------------------------


The hunt for Simion continued. Savlian, Sethyas, Ormeillus, and Rah’mirr have been combing the city for days and yet the assassin still eluded them. Fortunately, it seemed that the constant searching was keeping Simion locked up in his hideout as no attacks have happened since the altercation with Sethyas. Still, anxiousness and frustration weighed heavily on the searchers, knowing that Simion wouldn’t stay quiet forever.

Rah’mirr and Sethyas walked down the darkened alleyway silently, all their senses concentrated for any potential threats. Savlian and Sethyas decided that it was no longer even safe them to walk the streets alone. Two people had a distinct advantage than one.

“Haven’t we all ready checked these alleyways?” Rah’mirr growled bitterly.

Sethyas fixed him a hard look. “Yes, but knowing Simion, he could be constantly be circling around town trying to avoid us so we need to double back to make sure. Don’t let this search get to you,” Sethyas said, knowing his fellow assassin was starting to lose his patience.

A sour expression crossed the furry muzzle of Rah’mirr. “You’re right, Master. Rah’mirr just don’t like how quiet it has been.”

A flickering in the moonlight caught their attention. Instinctively, both assassins immediately headed to the rooftop of the building where the flickering appeared. Once they got up there, they found the rooftop empty. Sethyas bent down and peered at the ledge of the building.

“Someone was here,” he said quietly, pointing at a patterned of displaced sand and pebbles, “something brushed this debris from where it rested.”

No response from his companion alarmed Sethyas so he turned around quickly, his Daedric katana unsheathed. A short distance away from him, Rah’mirr was crumpled on the rooftop, gasping for breath. A blackened figure stood over him.

Sethyas shouted at Simion, drawing the Breton’s attention, and he began to charge at him. Rah’mirr suddenly lunged at Simion as well but Simion violently kicked him away before taking off into the night.

Sethyas stopped beside Rah’mirr, who urgently waved him on, telling him he would be fine. Sethyas then began to pursue the assassin into the night, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

Secunda and Masser provided just enough light for Sethyas to make out Simion’s billowing cloak flapping ahead of him. Sethyas noticed that the Breton was consistently looking behind him to check on his pursuer.

Good, Sethyas thought, doing that will only cause him to worry and make a foolish mistake.

Suddenly, Simion dropped out of view. He had taken the pursuit back to the ground. Sethyas followed suit, dropping down to ground level by leaping onto a drainage pipe of an adjacent building. Upon landing, the sounds of shouting and clashing metal reached his ears. Simion must’ve run into some guards. Eagerly, Sethyas rushed towards the source of the fighting.

Rounding the bend, Sethyas saw that Simion was dealing with Savlian and two other Town Guardsmen. Simion was busy bobbing and weaving around the multiple swords swinging out at him. Suddenly, Simion kicked out at one of the guardsmen, sending the guard into the wall of the building. The guard’s head smacked the brick with a sickening crack and he was down.

“Help us out, Sethyas!” Savlian said in between swings. Sweat was all ready beading on his forehead as he concentrated on not getting killed.

Sethyas, quickly threw himself into the fray, but not until Simion disarmed the other guardsman and finished him off with his own sword. For some reason, Simion wasn’t armed until now. Simion made ready use of his new found weapon though, all ready matching the sword strokes with his two combatants. Sethyas knew this was the “second” version that caught him unexpected last time. That would change this time.

Amidst the three of them, steel twirled and twisted their dance of death. Even with the two-to-one advantage, Simion was unrelenting. Either he managed to parry both swords, or he would parry one and dodge the other. It was inhuman!

That’s because he is, a voice in the back of Sethyas’ mind said.

Both Savlian and Sethyas continued to press the attack, all the while Simion fixed them with a chaotic smirk as he avoided their attacks. It came as a shock to Sethyas when Simion cried out in pain and fell back away from the incoming blades. A throwing knife had planted itself into Simion’s shoulder and it obviously caused some discomfort. Sethyas looked back behind him and saw Rah’mirr. His back was hunched over yet he was on his feet, his one arm dangling uselessly to his side, another throwing dagger was held in his good arm.

Simion growled in pain as he ripped the dagger from his shoulder. The lapse in fighting allowed Rah’mirr to get closer and surround the cornered Breton.

“Put down the sword, Simion,” Savlian instructed, his chest heaving from the exertion of the battle.

Simion’s broadsword clattered to the ground, his other arm clutched the bleeding wound on his shoulder. His sickly smirk didn’t vanish though. His eyes were narrowed in a dangerous fashion. Sethyas felt uneasy. Something didn’t seem right.

Savlian pointed to the ground. “Face to the ground, Simion.”

Simion shook his head.

Savlian’s expression darkened. “You’re trapped, Simion. There’s no way out. Just get on the ground right now or else I’ll have an excuse for killing you right now!”

Simion’s smirk widened. “You couldn’t kill me if your life depended on it!” he said mockingly before breaking into a fit of twisted laughter.

The insult put Savlian over the edge. With a growl of rage, Savlian lunged at the assassin. Both men were taken to the ground and as Sethyas and Rah'mirr went in to help, a smokescreen went off, blanketing the entire area in smoke. Curses and more shouts sounded out in the haze and by the time it dissipated, only Savlian, Sethyas and Rah’mirr stood in the alleyway.

Savlian cursed loudly. “No! I can’t believe that just happened! This is ridiculous!”

Rah’mirr looked at the Captain of the Guard. “Maybe if you weren’t a fool and searched him before lunging on him like that, the situation could’ve been avoided!”

“Do not chastise me!”

“Rah’mirr does what he pleases!”

“Open your mouth one more time, Furball, and you’ll regret it!”

“Furball! Rah’mirr will –“

“Enough!” Sethyas shouted, glaring at the both of them. “Mistakes were made. Get over it. Just be glad he didn’t decide to kill us in that smokescreen instead of running away. Now we have the chance to give him some payback,” Sethyas said, indicating the blood trail leading off down the street.

“We follow this carefully enough, we’ll know where he’s staying and properly take him out. Now let’s go.”

“Hold on. Rah’mirr cannot go on. Rah’mirr thinks some of his ribs are broken in addition to his arm,” Rah’mirr muttered through clenched teeth.

“Then go on to the Infirmary, Savlian and I will continue on,” Sethyas instructed before leading the Captain of the Guard along the blood trail.

Rah’mirr watched them disappear out of view before setting off to the Infirmary. “Good luck,” he mumbled.



A robed Dunmer passed through the gates of Kvatch. Though tired from the constant travel, he still stood straight as he walked towards “The Flying Bosmer”. In his pack, a wrapped up dagger and what appeared to be a large stone were cradled within.

All I need to do is find Sethyas or Savlian and we can finally end this, Taris thought as the tavern came into view.

Posted by: jack cloudy May 19 2007, 09:31 PM

Oh boy, things are heating up, big time. I see what you said. It definitely feels like the climax is near. I'm sure it will be a good one .

Posted by: Black Hand May 20 2007, 05:52 AM

sweet jebus, that took forever to update!! But it was well worth the wait!

Posted by: minque May 27 2007, 04:32 PM

Yup....finally I read it through....and I agree with the previous commenters....I can see a great ending coming on! I like that you use Seth ..you depict him very well.

Keep it coming!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet May 27 2007, 10:51 PM

Well, I'll see if I can keep up with steady updates. I have a feeling though that it might be difficult for me to keep to my weekly update schedule at least until school ends at the moment. Things are really busy with final projects and ISUs that need to be completed before study for exams begin. After I'm done these projects and ISUs, I should be able to stick to my weekly update schedule. I might even be able to update more frequently than once a week when school is done.

But for this week, I don't have an update for you guys unfortunately. I have lots of philosophy and film work to do today and tomorrow. Once my film ISU (Independant Study Unit) in my other film class is completed I should have more time for writing and won't be exhausted. Lots of writing is involved with ISUs so when my normal writing time arrives, I'm just too sick of writing on a computer to feel motivated to be creative.

Hopefully my haitus on this story won't last for too long. Again I apologise for those who dillegently follow this story. I always appreciate all the pleased feedback from you guys. I will finish it, I've gotten WAY too far to not complete this.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jun 16 2007, 06:34 PM

All right, time to continue this thing after another unfortunate hiatus. Writing this one made me realize I still got the motivation to get this sucker done. I can feel this ending drawing near and I got mixed feelings towards it. On one hand I would finally finish it. The idea I had so long ago and had started twice on two separate occasions (at the time I didn't have it TES related) would actually be completely written. On the other hand, I've been enjoying writing this story so much that I'm afriad that any future work won't bring that same joy.

I have a feeling though that whatever I decide to write next, if it gets the same reception as Bloodlust did here, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it.

But enough of my emotional banter. I'm sure you guys want to read the next update. Here it is:



--------------------------------------


Simion slumped against the alley wall in exhaustion. During his escape from Sethyas and Savlian, he had managed to wrestle back control from the Voice. Now the full effects of the dagger that had entered his shoulder were being felt. He knew he had to get back to his hideout. The potions required to treat his wound were lying in wait for him there.

Groaning, Simion forced himself to continue on. The world briefly spun as pain laced through his arm, stifling all other feelings. He could feel his blood trickling down his arm since his sleeve was saturated with the warm fluid. But at least he was drawing near his destination. It wouldn’t be long before this problem was dealt with.

Clumsily, Simion hauled himself up the ladder to his hideout with his good arm. After an excruciating minute, he pulled himself inside his secret attic hideout, his breaths ragged from exertion. To weak to stand, Simion crawled along the floor to the cabinet where he kept his potions. After opening it, Simion scanned the contents of the cabinet. Not finding the correct potion immediately, Simion scattered the contents within along the floor. Combing through the contents on the floor, desperation started clinging to Simion, as there didn’t seem to be any potions to help his wound. His breathing became more frantic as bottles were knocked far away in frustration and fear. After a few frightful moments, Simion located a bottle and greedily drained the contents. He shuddered as he felt the flesh knit itself back together over the deep dagger wound.

Simion slumped against the far wall of the attic, relieved that he would be okay but exhausted from the fight in conjunction with healing the wound. Before he could stop himself, sleep overtook him.



Silently, Simion’s pursuers followed the trail the assassin left for them. Both Sethyas and Savlian were silent, constantly expecting to run into the assassin around the next bend. Sethyas, the fresher of the two, took the lead while Savlian tailed closely behind. Savlian knew he was a bit out of his element with a stealth mission of this proportion. Beside him stood a master of the trade so why not take advantage of that?

Sethyas stopped beside a particularly large patch of blood. Obviously Simion had rested there for a few moments. Sethyas noted that the trail continued after the spot, but he hung back, ensuring that the area was safe. Satisfied with his inspection, he waved Savlian along as they proceeded deeper into the alley.

It didn’t them long to find that the trail went up a ladder. What seemed peculiar was that this ladder appeared to go to nowhere. It simply ended three quarters of the way up the building. Sethyas moved away from the scene beckoning Savlian to follow.

Slightly annoyed that they were backtracking, Savlian tried to speak. “Seth—“

The Dunmer cut him off with a glare and kept moving backwards. After they put a building between the ladder and them, Sethyas turned around.

“I wanted to get away from that ladder before we could speak,” Sethyas explained softly.

“Okay, what for?”

“I know Simion is up there somewhere. I could just feel it,” Sethyas answered; his expression set in an unreadable expression.

“You think he jumped onto the rooftop?” Savlian offered, “Seems unlikely given that wound.”

Sethyas nodded. “You’re right. He couldn’t have jumped onto the rooftop from there. He didn't simply disappear either… I’m afraid one of us is going to have to take a risk.”

Savlian pondered the notion. “Climb the ladder and see from that perspective you mean?”

“Exactly. Problem is that Simion could simply be waiting for that. Whoever goes would basically be a sitting duck.”

“I’ll go.”

“No. I should go.”

“This is my town, and this is my problem. I’m the one who should be taking risks here.”

“You wouldn’t know if Simion is preparing to attack you or anything. I have the chance to see the warning signs before you, Savlian.”

Savlian looked away from Sethyas and thought on the subject. Finally he nodded his head. “Go on. I’ll keep on eye on you and shout if I see anything,” he said reluctantly.

Sethyas patted the Captain’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said as he withdrew the Black Hands Dagger and went back to the ladder. Savlian followed behind, his keen eyes searching for possible threats.

Sethyas twirled his dagger absent-mindedly as he peered at his surroundings, guessing where Simion could lay lurking. Whatever possessed the Breton was just as crafty as Simion so the possibility of a trap didn’t escape Sethyas’ thoughts. His dagger twirling stopped and Sethyas proceeded to creep to the ladder. Savlian stayed near the opposite wall, his eyes busy as well.

Using one arm, Sethyas began to climb the ladder, the other held his dagger, poised to strike should the opportunity call. At each rung, Sethyas paused, careful to not make any sound. Savlian silently urged the Dunmer to proceed quicker as Sethyas’ approach was torturing his patience. Sethyas made it two thirds of the way up before he decided to drop from the ladder. Startled, Savlian walked to Sethyas and was about to ask him what was going on but Sethyas grabbed him and started dragging him away from the alleyway.

After exiting the alleyway Sethyas finally stopped his jog. A frustrated Savlian stopped beside him.

“What the hell happened back there?” Savlian asked heatedly.

“I heard noise within. I didn’t want Simion to see us so we left. There’s a niche in the wall that the alleyway hides from the ground. He’s inside that building,” Sethyas answered, a smile on his face.

Savlian grinned, his anger quickly forgotten. “Well then, let’s go put him away!” he said enthusiastically.

“No. Not yet.”

Savlian turned and faced the assassin, a puzzled look on his face. “And why not? We know where he is. He’s in a weakened state and if we get inside his hideout, he’s not going to escape!” he asked, his anger quickly returning.

“Because,” Sethyas returned calmly, “We need Taris here to show us how to defeat him. It’s been a week, he should be back anytime now.”

Savlian massaged his temples. “You need to be shown how to defeat him?” he asked incredulously. “Here, I’ll show you. You take this-“ he pulled out his broadsword, “-and you stabbed it into his heart!”

Sethyas sighed in an exasperated tone. “You don’t understand. We’re dealing with something that’s beyond flesh and blood. Something has… invaded Simion’s body and it has caused all these problems in your city.”

Savlian slammed his broadsword back into his scabbard. “You know what? I don’t care what you think. I don’t care if the incarnate of Mehrunes Dagon presides within him. Steel has been hurting him, so steel is going to kill him! I don’t need you to tell me how to use a sword and now that I know where Simion is. I’m going to take a squad of men and take him out,” he said with finality, “Good-day to you Sethyas. It has been a pleasure working with you but I’m afraid that we’re going to have to do things our separate ways.”

With that, Savlian abruptly walked off. Sethyas stared off at him, incredulous that he was simply used by the Imperial.

“Why didn’t I expect this to happen? He is an Imperial after all,” he said to the air. Though the Captain had offended him, he had more important things to do. He needed to see if Taris had come back yet. If so, the young Dunmer likely would be waiting at “The Flying Bosmer” so Sethyas decided he would look there first.

Posted by: Lord Revan Jun 16 2007, 06:56 PM

Tsk, Tsk, Captain Savlian, no appreciation for things of a supernatural nature........ That could get a lot of subordinates killed, you know..... *Sing-songs the last sentence*

Posted by: jack cloudy Jun 16 2007, 06:57 PM

Why oh why do I have the feeling that the guards are going to get slaughtered?

After you've finished Bloodlust, I will be looking forward to your next piece. I'm sure it will be a good one.

Posted by: canis216 Jun 16 2007, 07:45 PM

Oh man, the ending is so close now... but what will Savlian do? Will Sethyas and Taris be able to meet (and form their own plan of attack) in time?

Posted by: Soulseeker3.0 Jul 12 2007, 02:40 AM

wow. I just caught up and i'd like to say that your story is awesome.

It's a shame that Savlian is so darned ignorant.

Your so close, i can't wait to see how it all ends.

Posted by: Lord Revan Jul 12 2007, 07:21 PM

I have to agree with SoulSeeker, our favorite guard Captain needs to use his head for more than errant thoughts (harsh, I know). He needs to develope an appreciation for things greater than himself (not devines) or beyond his understanding.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jul 14 2007, 05:21 PM

Well after another respite, I'm back with a small update, but an update nonetheless. If I've planned everything the way I think I have, I think there might be between 3-5 updates left depending on how I work things out. Exciting isn't it? I'm nearly finished this beast of a story! I'm shocked. Over a year of writing and it's nearly drawing to a close. Hopefully you will enjoy the ending I have planned for you (I all ready know how I want to end it, which is probably a good thing). Anyways, let's continue the story!


------------------------------------


After a brief respite, Savlian awoke in the twilight hours before dawn to ready his men. The mountainous height left the town of Kvatch at its chilliest at this time of the morning as the sun had yet to truly rise over the horizon. Only an indigo blotch of colour could be seen when Savlian peered to the east. Yet the cold did not matter as Savlian’s soldier tactics told him that if anytime was the most opportune to attack, it would be shortly before dawn. Hopefully Simion would be too content or tired to expect an attack at this time.

As Savlian entered the courtyard of the Kvatch castle, his squad all ready stood waiting for him; tendrils of warmed air waiving from their faces. Savlian stopped in front of the row of lightly armoured men and mer and snapped a salute. The squad members returned the gesture. Savlian studied the faces of his squad. Each displayed the hard determination that Savlian wanted them to had, but when he looked closely he could tell that there was apprehension, nervousness, and even fear dwelling within them. Savlian hoped that those emotions would fuel them rather than prove to be detrimental.

Savlian finished his scanning, nodding as if he was satisfied. “All right, it’s time to finally set things right,” he began when he noticed a silhouette standing in front of the doorway to the castle. He paused for a moment, as he was trying to figure out who it was. After a moment he gave up and continued, “I have located the hideout of the person responsible for the murdering of our fellow guardsman. I will be leading all of you to this location but I stress we try to stay as silent as possible. The man we’re dealing with is an assassin and the more advantage we give him, the tougher it’s going to be to take him out. Hopefully our numbers will convince him to give up willingly, but don’t expect that. This man is mentally unstable so it is very likely that he’ll attack. Be prepared!”

The squad nodded in understanding. Savlian nodded towards the castle gates, “Let’s move out.”

As the men began to file out of the courtyard, Savlian looked back to the silhouette again. The sun was just creeping over the horizon now and the few stray rays revealed that the silhouette was Ormellius. “Time to finally set things right…” Savlian muttered before heading towards the Count.

The Count was dressed in simpler but warm garments to ward off the cold of the morning. A curious expression crossed the stern face of the man. Savlian swallowed the pit in his throat.

“It is somewhat early to be running drills in the courtyard is it not, Captain?” Ormellius asked in a condescending tone.

Savlian ignored the Count’s attempt to anger him. “Look, sir, I think I should explain myself,” Savlian said in a serious tone.

Savlian’s manner seemed to have affected the Count as the dark glint left his eyes and changed into ones that were ready to listen. “Go on.”

Savlian took a moment to collect himself. “The stress I’ve been under since this first began has been very difficult to handle. I’ve had to deal with Vernon threatening to kill me, assassination attempts made by Simion and Hlodir. Dealing with Hlodir’s mage and his bandit army. Even trying to co-operate with the Morag Tong has been difficult. The mistrust between us doesn’t help,” he paused to process his next words. He found that Ormellius was still paying close attention. “I know I should’ve told you all about Simion and the agreement we had. The thing is, at the time I was thinking that I had to deal with another Goldwine, that I would be forced to dance between the lines of protecting this town and pleasing you. It would’ve made sense to tell you everything once I found out I could trust you, but I didn’t because I was caught up in the madness that is this situation.

“As for what I’m doing right now; I’m putting an end to it. I found Simion’s hideout with the help of the Morag Tong and I’m taking this squad and either apprehending him or killing him. I honestly don’t care which it is anymore,” Savlian said in a tired and fed up manner, his eyes locked to the ground. After a moment, he looked up to the Count.

The Count was silent. His face expressionless. He held the gaze of Savlian for a few moments before his expression warmed. He placed a callused hand upon his Captain’s shoulder. “Okay, Savlian. Consider the hatchet buried. It was a bit foolish of me to arrive here and expect immediate trust,” the Count admitted, much to the relief of Savlian.

“Now I expect you to finish this, Captain. Especially since you got him trapped like a rat,” Ormellius continued in an encouraging manner.

A now vigorous Savlian nodded as he cinched he belt tighter, “Will do sir!” he replied as he began to catch up with the rest of his squad.

“Hold on!”

Savlian turned around, “Yes?”

“What about the Tong agents? What are they doing?”

Savlian’s expression soured, “I don’t know and I don’t care. They are trying to come up with some magical way to take care of him. They think he’s possessed or something. Really, he’s just crazy. They’re just wasting their time,” he said with a hint of disdain.

Ormellius fixed the Captain with a sceptical look, “If you truly believe that, go with it then. Good luck, Captain.”

“Thank you, sir,” Savlian replied and finally joined his squad.

“All right! Now let’s not waste anymore time. We got a criminal to catch!” Savlian told his squad with a new passion.

As the squad progressed into town, Savlian felt something Ormellius said was nagging him, if you truly believe that. Savlian couldn’t help but think, do I truly think that?

Posted by: jack cloudy Jul 14 2007, 06:08 PM

Good to see that they made up, bad to see more Impies walking to their doom. Ok, maybe I'm just pessimistic but Simion will probably carve them up good. Or no, not Simion, Boethia's voice.

Posted by: Soulseeker3.0 Jul 15 2007, 02:22 AM

Well, I can only hope that the Tong gets to Simion first. Even though it is a short update it was a good one MM, SGM.

Posted by: Black Hand Jul 15 2007, 09:35 AM

Very well written in the introduction there. Brought about stunning imagery!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Jul 28 2007, 02:45 PM

Due to my current internet problem at home (I still need to figure out what exactly has caused my connection to simply not exist), I am forced to postphone the next update for my story. Hopefully by next week, this problem will be solved and I'll have an update for you guys. Personally, I'm starting to feel a little bad about all these breaks between updates but I certainly can't quit now when I'm so close to being done. Plus, I don't want to quit either.

Anyways, I apologize for making you guys wait once again.

Posted by: minque Aug 5 2007, 02:21 PM

When you wait for something good.....they say...Anyway this is good....and our old friend Sethyas is appearing in this story as well! My is he popular!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Aug 11 2007, 05:58 PM

Woo! With restored internet connection comes a new update! This one kinda ends abruptly, but I ran out of time for me to work on it right now and I didn't feel like making you guys wait any longer for an update. I think I'm going to make a deadline for myself and wrap this story up before September starts. I want to do that because in September I'm moving to my student housing for college and I'm not quite sure when I'll have my internet up there. I still need to get a laptop which I will be using to surf the internet because I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to take the computer we have at home, even though I use it about 95% of the time. Ohwell, that's the breaks. Enjoy the update all the same.



----------------------------------------------------------------------

The streets were still deathly silent at this time of the morning. Only the soft pattering of many pair of feet reached Savlian’s ears. He silently hoped that their noise wouldn’t alert Simion. Savlian couldn’t afford to let Simion escape once again. It could possibly mean resorting to team up with Sethyas and the Morag Tong once more and Savlian simply couldn’t take their constant prattling about the “magical way” to defeat Simion.

Savlian ran his a hand through his hair, a worn expression on his face. He needed to ignore these distractions. The situation at hand demanded full attention. Don’t worry about the chance of Simion escaping unless it happens. Surely with this many men in a narrow alleyway would be able to apprehend a fleeing criminal. Everything would be taken care of shortly. Just try to stay as silent as possible and give yourself enough time to take advantage of the situation. Done right, and no one is going to die today.

Even though Savlian attempted to ignore outside thoughts and uncertainties, Ormellius’ words still managed to drive to the forefront of Savlian’s mind. It grew to the point that it began to annoy him that there might be some doubt in this situation. Just because some assassin believes that Simion was possessed and under its control didn’t mean he should believe it. What he was truly dealing with here was a schizophrenic who just so happens to have an extremely violent and deadly efficient personality capable of feats that Simion’s “normal” personality couldn’t perform. To Savlian, that made much more sense.

But then why did he have this doubt and uncertainty? Even though he had more than convinced himself on Simion’s condition, why did this nagging feel continued to scratch at the back of his skull? Was there the possible chance that he actually believed Sethyas and the others, at least at a subconscious level? Savlian didn’t want to believe so, but that could explain it.

Savlian groaned softly as his mind battled with itself. This was not the time to be doing this! He had a killer to apprehend! He was so close to putting an end to this. To finally wake up from the constant nightmare of waking up knowing that Simion was planning to end his life.

“Sir, are you all right?” a soldier at Savlian’s side asked, his expression concerned, “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Savlian smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. “I’m fine. I just had a late night,” he replied. He nodded to an alley. “This way.”

As Savlian and his company progressed through the alleyways, a knot began to grow in Savlian’s stomach. A chaotic mix of anticipation and dread flooded his thoughts, causing discomfort. Yet Savlian pressed on, eager to end this conflict.

It wasn’t long until they reached the spot where Savlian watched Sethyas climb up the ladder only hours before. Savlian halted his group and told them through hand signals that utmost silence from now on was needed and that Simion was up the ladder. Savlian decided that he would be the first to go up, so without any further delay he approached the ladder.

Savlian kept his eyes fixated on the spot where the ladder just appeared to randomly end, knowing that once he was up there, he would find the entrance to Simion’s hiding spot. Before climbing up, he made sure that his broadsword was firmly strapped so that is wouldn’t rattle. He also withdrew his dagger and placed it between his teeth. He felt some sense of security knowing that he had a weapon close at hand while he traveled up. For all he knew, Simion could be waiting right by the entrance waiting for a head to pop up so he could decapitate it. Savlian couldn’t help but think that having a knife is his mouth wouldn’t stop that, but it was the assurance the weapon provided that counted.

Savlian began to slowly make his way up the ladder, keeping his eyes and ears pried for any sudden movements or noises. He swallowed back a lump in his throat midway through his trip. He also noticed that his teeth were clamped to the knife is his mouth so tightly that his jaw was beginning to ache. Holding onto the ladder with one hand, he removed the dagger and took a moment to compose himself. Once he felt that he was ready again, Savlian continued on.

As he got closer to the top, he could finally see the entrance to the hideout. Sethyas was right, from ground level the entrance looked like a shadow from an adjacent building. Now Savlian could plainly see that there was a gap between where the ladder ended and the roof of the building. Just two more rungs and he would find himself in the lair of the enemy.

Savlian climbed the final two rungs and peered into the maw of the hideout. The place itself was only one room, and it was still bathed in the morning darkness. Savlian thought he was the outline of a body against the far wall of the room but at this distance it just looked like a large lump. Savlian freed the knife from his mouth and pulled himself fully into the room. His eyes scanned the entirety of the room and he noticed that the lump was the only thing resembling a person at the moment. There also appeared to be a cabinet beside the lump. Vials and bottles littered the floor surrounding the lump. The coppery stench of rotting blood was rank in the air. Without looking back, Savlian stuck a hand back outside and waved his men inside.

The entire time Savlian’s men pulled themselves into the building, Savlian kept his eyes fixed to the lump on the ground. He didn’t want to move yet in fear that blocking the light that was entering the building would alert the prone figure in the back of the room. Once a comfortable amount of men had made their way inside, Savlian nodded and his men began to inch their way forward.

The knife handle felt greasy in Savlian’s palm as the anticipation of this moment had started to make him sweat. His eyes were livid with triumph. There was no way Simion could escape from this many men alive. If he made a break for it, his men would cut him down before he got halfway to the exit. Simion was finally cornered!

An errant foot caused a floorboard to creak and instantly the lump bolted to its feet and a dagger flashed from the folds of dark clothing. Simion’s pale, haggard face was finally visible. His eyes were ablaze with shock and confusion. Savlian exchanged his knife for his broadsword. Many of his men had weapons drawn.

“Drop the dagger, Simion. There’s no way for you to escape so just give up and don’t give us a hard time,” Savlian said forcefully.

The confusion in Simion’s eyes faded quickly. “Ahh, Captain! Welcome to my new abode! It’s not so nice as my last one, but it does have…” he paused to look around, his hands making an all encompassing gesture, “character,” he finished with a crooked smile.

“Enough talk! Drop your weapon!” Savlian urged.

Simion raised his hands in an unthreatening manner, his knife held limply in his hand. “Ok, ok! I’ll release my weapon. Do you honestly think I would not comply with the law?” he said, his face mocking hurt. He slowly bent down to set down his dagger. Once he got to his knees he looked up to Savlian.

“You shouldn’t lie to me, Captain,” Simion said quietly, his crooked smirk returning.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said, there’s no way for me to escape, but there is,” Simion replied, his voice taking on a gleeful tone, “I just have to kill all of you and then waltz out of here!”

Alarm shot through Savlian’s system but before he could do or say anything, Simion struck. From his prone position on his knees, Simion hurled the dagger he had at the nearest guard. The force of impact from the throw knocked the guard from his feet. He could only stare at the dagger hilt jutting from his chest before his eyes rolled up to the back of his head.
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The fight continues soon! Stay tuned!

Posted by: canis216 Aug 11 2007, 07:34 PM

Oh man... it is on.

Posted by: Black Hand Aug 11 2007, 07:44 PM

Keep it coming!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Aug 18 2007, 06:47 PM

The sudden killing of one of the guardsmen made the others hesitate momentarily. Despite Savlian’s warnings that they were dealing with a mad man, they couldn’t believe that someone stuck in what appeared to be a hopeless situation would actually choose to try and kill them all. The moment of hesitation allowed Simion to withdraw another dagger, followed by him launching into the guardsmen.

Savlian was Simion’s first target, but instead of lashing out with his dagger, he caught Savlian unexpected with a swift kick to the jaw, knocking the Captain away from the battle. In one fluid movement after the kick, Simion swirled around, racking his dagger against the belly of a nearby guardsman. Continuing his swirl, he raised his dagger high enough to cleave through the throat of another guard before jumping away from his attackers. When Simion landed on his feet, the thud was accompanied by two others. One from the disembowelled guard falling to his knees, moaning as he tried to keep his insides where they belonged, the other thrashing on the floor as his life steadily came streaming out of his lacerated throat.

Savlian was just attempting to get to his feet once more when Simion engaged with the group of guards once again. The guards, spurred on by seeing their comrades slain, rushed Simion, hoping to overwhelm him. Instead, it only proved to help Simion as he evaded the large and unwieldy broadswords and stabbed into any exposed area the guards left open. Shouts of pain and curses of frustration rang out as the guards struggled to hit the elusive figure in black all the wile trying not to stab each other. The room was too cramped for this many swords. What was expected to be an advantage was quickly revealing itself to be a disadvantage.

Savlian attempted to jump into the fray once again, but was met with another forceful kick. This time it was accompanied by a hiss from Simion.

“Hold on a second, Captain! I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

Many of the guards were now sporting nagging to serious wounds as they attempted to kill the sleek assassin. Desperation and worry were now beginning to dawn on them. Simion stood his ground.

“Is this really Kvatch’s finest? Because if that’s true, some serious training needs to be done,” Simion said snidely.

One guard, bellowing his rage, rushed the robed harbinger of death, his broadsword raised over his head. With a mighty swing, he tried to cleave Simion in half. Simion responded by evading the blow by whirling around the guard then driving the dagger hilt-deep into the back of the guard’s neck. Simion twisted the blade before withdrawing it. The body of the guard collapsed like a sack of grain while Simion nonchalantly cleaned off his dagger before piercing the other guards with a look of twisted, sardonic pleasure.

“Next?” he asked with his crooked smile.

The guards formed themselves into a half-moon, once again attempting to surround and contain Simion. Simion stood his ground, but his eyes constantly shifted across each guard, waiting for the one that would try to strike first. The tension built as neither the guards or Simion were committed to acting first. Simion’s crooked smile turned into a smug grin as the seconds ticked away. He even eased his dagger down to a less than ready position.

Emboldened by such a move, a guard to Simion’s right lunged in to attack with a horizontal strike aimed for Simion’s head. Simion ducked under the blow and wrapped an arm around the guard. In seconds, Simion had driven the dagger into the body of the guard many times with shuddering force. Sensing that someone was coming up behind him, Simion lashed out with a foot at the incoming guard and followed that up with throwing the dead guard in his arms into the surrounding men, ruining the half-moon. He then turned his attention to the guard his kicked. The guard had recovered and attempted to stab Simion. Simion parried the blow and then drove an elbow into the man’s now. The nose broke with a satisfying crack, and blood immediately began to pour from it. The guard dropped his weapon as a reflex to try and stop the pain, but it only led to his demise.

With another guard indisposed, only three remained, excluding Savlian, who came to their aid once again. Simion grinned at the Captain.

“About time you got up. I don’t hit that hard do I?” he asked, chuckling. Savlian’s expression hardened.

Simion focused on Savlian. “So, it’s time to take things serious eh? Ok! Will do!” Simion said brightly as he surged towards Savlian and the guards.

Savlian tried to attack once again, but it seemed to be that the assassin’s agenda was to save him for last. Instead of striking flesh, Savlian only tore into the robe of Simion before another kick knocked him away from the battle. Frustration flooded the Captain’s thoughts.

Simion didn’t care though; he had three more guards to deal with. After knocking away Savlian, he tripped up one of the guards then drove his dagger into the man’s heart as he was sprawled out against the floor. Simion rolled away from a sweeping sword strike from another attacker before regaining his feet. In a mighty display of acrobatics, Simion launched himself off of a nearby wall, which allowed him to land behind his pursuer. Before the guard could recover, cold steel slid across his neck, bringing an end to his existence.

Simion whirled around and stopped the guard about to run him through dead in his tracks with a look. The guard, having seen all his comrades die by the hands of one being, began to back away, hoping to preserve his life. Unfortunately, his fate had all ready been decided upon as soon as he entered Simion’s hideout. No one who entered his domain would continue to live past this day. As the guard attempted to run for the exit, Simion calmly tossed his dagger. It found its mark.

Savlian regained his feet once more just as Simion retrieved his dagger from the prone body of his last kill. Savlian couldn’t help but look at the chaos that surrounded him. The stench of blood was heavy in the air. Bodies were sprawled everywhere, all their faces contorted into either shock, or horror. Not a single body looked peaceful, only tarnished and violated. Simion’s steady steps snapped back Savlian’s attention.

The Breton’s face was speckled with blood, and Savlian knew it wasn’t Simion’s. Just by the steady gait of Simion’s stride, Savlian knew that the assassin wasn’t even scratched. Gods, he didn’t even appear winded by the effort!

Simion stopped several feet in front of Savlian. It was Simion who now scanned his surroundings; it seemed as if he eyes drank in every single detail of the scene around him. Every drop of blood, every horrified face, every death. Simion closed his eyes, as if his eyes couldn’t handle so much blood, and took a deep, shuddering breath of ecstasy.

“Can you smell that?” he said in a near whisper, his eyes still closed, “It’s just so… intoxicating.”

Savlian scanned his surroundings once more and was sickened as he realized that the assassin was taking joy from the scene around him.

“You’re mad!”

One eye of Simion’s shot open at the comment. The other opened more casually after a moment. “Oh, there’s more to it then that. But we don’t need to go into any details about that. Just know that I’m more than just ‘mad’ as you say,” Simion said casually. Given the current situation, even the casual aspect that Simion displayed seemed maddening.

“I don’t care what you are! Just know that this ends now with you either in chains or dead,” Savlian shot back.

Simion laughed. “I must admit, you do have some determination about you. Too bad that determination caused the death of at least 10 men. Really, Captain, how many more are going to suffer before this ends? Honestly, it disgusts me how many lives have been wasted because you couldn’t let me get away with a couple of murders.”

Simion’s words hit Savlian hard. It was true. The evidence was all around him. Many lives had been sacrificed due to his stubbornness to catch Simion and now if he were to die, it all would’ve been in vain. If he only solely focused on catching Simion, how many lives could’ve been spared?

Simion noticed that his words were taking affect. “See, you realize the truth in my words don’t you? If you got off my back, many people would still be alive. Even Bernise would still be alive,” Simion continued, his voice growing darker. He had begun to slowly inch towards the Captain.

The mention of Bernise only made him feel worse. How could he have let such a nice, kind, and wonderful woman be slain so inhumanly? She was so innocent and yet Simion brutally murdered her. It was his fault that she was dead…

Simion inched closer and closer, delighted in witnessing the self destruction Savlian was bringing upon himself. He wouldn’t know what hit him; that was how deep Savlian was digging.

Even though Savlian was tearing himself about over the fact of letting Bernise die, something in the back of his mind was nagging him. It wasn’t you who killed Bernise, it was him! , the nagging thought kept repeating. Vernon was serious threat. He HAD to be dealt with. You did the right thing. The only thing you did wrong was trust that Simion wouldn’t kill once again. It was a risk that had to be taken. But now you have a chance to avenge them! Do it!

Realization dawned on Savlian just as Simion’s dagger arched towards him with tremendous speed. With lightning quick reflexes, Savlian intercepted the dagger with his broadsword. Simion’s eyes widened in surprise before Savlian delivered a shattering punch to Simion’s face, staggering the assassin backwards.

“I may have screwed up a couple of times, Simion, but I’m here to remedy that. Because overall, you’re the main problem here,” Savlian said matter-of-factly as he readied himself.

“Bah! Killing with one stroke wouldn’t have been nearly as fun as what I’m about to do to you now!” Simion hissed before engaging Savlian.

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The battle continues next update! Oooo the anticipation!

Posted by: jack cloudy Aug 18 2007, 09:44 PM

The anticipation is killing me!

Ok, either Kvatch's finest are crappy compared to everyone else, Savlian is a superman with his broadsword, or he's just gone through a dramatic power-up. Or if none of those, he's going to get owned, owned real hard.

Oh, and I must say that was an amazing battlescene. Vicious.

Posted by: Lucidarius Sep 1 2007, 10:53 PM

It sure took me a while to read your story so far, but I thoroughly enjoyed the trip. You have a gift for storytelling that seems to come natural to you as your updates are both frequent, long and - best of all - of high quality. "Bloodlust" has many strong points to recommend it, I'll just mention some of them:

1) A compelling, original story that draws the reader in and doesn't let go.
2) Good pacing with a mix of contemplative moods, conversations and action.
3) The diversity of your viewpoints lend the reader insight into very different characters' minds, e.g. the count(s), Savlian Matius, Lavos and Simion. This adds to the suspension because we know more than some of the other characters, e.g. like the incident with the bank manager and Hlodir's visit. Very nicely done.
4) A free-flowing language that suits the story and with careful details to paint a picture of the surroundings to anchor the characters.
5) You portray the characters well by their conversations, e.g. the fight and mocking between Savlian and Hlodir's compatriot, the mage.
6) The deranged Voice and its manipulations with Simion are thrilling; and the gory depictions of murder and Simion/Boethia reveling in them are creepy. The title of the story is fitting indeed.
7) Engaging action scenes with vivid descriptions and battle reasoning of the main participants.

Along with your other readers, I will eagerly be awaiting for future updates.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Sep 11 2007, 04:46 AM

Well thanks for taking the time to catch up on this massive thing. I can imagine it being a bit daunting for those who just discovered it. Your comments are very appreciated; everyone's comments are.

Unfortunately I don't have an update ready yet. Had some problems transferring my story from my home computer to my laptop, but now I got that all sorted out and hopefully I have some time to continue this story in the near future. But first, I gotta get that duel I owe Jack Cloudy and Lord Revan done. That is now my first priority.

So, just stay patient, loyal readers. I have not abandoned you! I am merely just trying to find some time to work on this thing. College life is busy you know! I'm supposed to socialize with people and whatnot!

Posted by: jack cloudy Sep 11 2007, 06:27 AM

Ah, socialization. The bane of students everywhere.

Meh, it's nice to hear that you're still working on things. I never doubted it but it's still nice to hear.

Now I'll just have to prove that I'm still working as well. After school, that is.

Posted by: Lord Revan Sep 11 2007, 12:50 PM

Woohoo, we've been waiting months for the clash! But Bloodlust shouldn't be any lower on your priorities than the second or third. I suppose I should be glad I'm not going to college next year.... starting to consider doing home-school until then, but nothing solid as of yet.

One good ploint would be that I could spend more time writing updates and RPing and all that good stuff.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Oct 14 2007, 04:30 AM

Well this isn't a huge update, but it's a pivotal one all the same. Hopefully I don't keep all waiting so long for the next one. You guys might kill me if I do that considering where I stop this one



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Savlian was prepared now. Simion’s attack was a basic strike, driven by emotion rather than skill. Savlian easily parried the strike and sought a counter-attack. Simion avoided it though by using his immense speed. Simion backed away and began to stalk the Captain. Savlian felt confident in allowing Simion to do so. With the chaos that initially ensued finished, Savlian felt that one on one; he would have the upper hand. With allies he would have to worry about injuring someone. That worry was now out of the picture and Savlian was free to use his full skill set on the murderer.

Simion, acting as the aggressor, feinted to Savlian’s chest. Savlian went to defend and couldn’t catch his mistake before Simion whipped around Savlian’s sword and slashed his dagger against Savlian’s shoulder. Gritting his teeth in pain, Savlian backed away from his opponent, all the while Simion grinned sardonically. With Simion’s speed, any stupid mistake would be costly.

With blood running freely down his side, Savlian pondered what he could do next. Even after dealing with a score of guards, Simion didn’t even appear to be winded. Hoping to outlast his opponent would be hopeless. Any attempt at head games would prove to be futile since even though the mer was crazy there appeared to be some sense of control to it. Savlian’s options were fleeting to say the most.

Unfortunately before Savlian could think of anything, Simion struck once again. This time, with a savage flurry of dagger strikes. The speed and pressure of the blows forced Savlian to back pedal in order to compensate. He knew this wasn’t good, if Simion managed to corner him, he was bound to get hurt before getting back to neutral ground. As a last ditch effort, Savlian changed levels after ducking a swipe of Simion’s dagger and then tackling the assassin to the ground.

In the scuffle, Savlian lost grip of his broadsword and it was sent scuttling across the floor. A power struggle for Simion’s dagger instantly began as Savlian attempted to force the weapon out of Simion’s grip.

The dagger shuddered from the forces exerted upon it by Savlian and Simion. It remained transfixed between the two combatants as it appeared that their strength were equal at this position, shocking given that Simion was at a disadvantage since he was back first on the floor. Savlian’s face was contorted with exertion as he tried to point the tip of the dagger away from his face.

A sudden shifting in Simion’s weight caught Savlian by surprise and he quickly found that their positions had reversed as Simion swept around him. Given the new circumstances, Simion wrenched the dagger away from Savlian. The assassin’s eyes gleamed menacingly as realization of what was about to happen dawned upon him. With a flashy twirl of the dagger, Simion switched his grip so he could stab Savlian easier.

As the dagger descended, at the last moment, Savlian bucked his hips which caused the dagger to embed itself in the floorboard above his head. In that moment, Savlian managed to throw Simion off of him and he scrambled away to get his broadsword.

With weapon in hand, Savlian turned around to face his opponent once more. As he did, he was knocked off his feet. Pain erupted from his chest. Savlian looked down to see the hilt of a dagger standing at attention from his chest. Savlian’s jaw dropped in shock and pain at what he was seeing. A curse sounded from across the room.

“I aimed too high; I usually don’t do that,” the voice said in a scolding manner. Laughter than rang out. “Ohwell, this makes things more fun!”

Savlian could only watch as the silhouette of Simion grew as it came towards him. His breaths came out in ragged gasps as pain seeped into every nerve of his body. He couldn’t believe this was happening! The thrown dagger caught him totally unawares. He attempted to sit up but intense pain racked through his body causing him to gasp loudly before dropping his head hard back onto the cool floor. Simion chuckled at the sight of the helpless Captain.

“Looks like I finally got you,” Simion said happily as he knelt beside the Captain, a smug look on his face. He tapped his shoulder playfully. “I have to admit though. You’ve been a tough one. Actually, as a matter of fact, you’ve been one of the toughest targets I’ve dealt with. Not the toughest though. That award goes to Sethyas,” Simion said, nearly spitting out the last word.

“I’ll deal with him soon enough.”

Savlian could only focus on staying conscious and he knew that he was failing. His vision was all ready speckled with black dots. Simion appeared to notice the state Savlian was in and shook him violently.

“Hey, hey! No going to sleep for you! What fun is it if I can’t hear you?” he said in an annoyed fashion. Realizing his shaking wasn’t helping he withdrew his other dagger and sighed. “Looks like I’m going to have to make this quick after all. Thanks for ruining my fun!”

Savlian blacked out before the blade could descend.

Posted by: jack cloudy Oct 14 2007, 07:43 PM

Uh-oh. While he put up quite a struggle, Savlian still got owned. Well, time to bring in Silverbrand real quick.

Posted by: canis216 Oct 15 2007, 02:53 AM

Cliffhanger! Egad! And another remarkable fight scene!

Posted by: Lucidarius Oct 28 2007, 11:01 PM

Great fight. I keep my fingers crossed that Savlian will pull through somehow. I've really come to depend on him to continue in this story on the good side.

One nitpick, though. In the first paragraph, you begin five sentences with the name of a character. Your language flows much more evocatively when you alter the start a bit, like you do later on. But hey, that's just language and as already stated earlier you got an original and gripping story going.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Nov 12 2007, 05:02 AM

All righty, time to cut the suspense and get right down to the thick of it. I hope you guys enjoy this!

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While the battle between Simion and Savlian raged, Taris and Sethyas were just beginning their trek into the alleyways. With Taris were the two key objects that would be required to defeat Simion, Silverbrand and its respective enchantment stone. Taris decided to go over the plan once more.

“So you’re going to distract Simion in order to allow me to stab him with Silverbrand and, following that, destroy the stone?”

“Sounds easy enough doesn’t it?” Sethyas replied, his mood a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Finally, the resolution was at hand.

“If you say so Grandmaster…” Taris answered.

After that, the two assassins continued on in silence as they made their way to Simion’s hideout. That is, until they heard the sounds of fighting.

“Damn it Savlian!” Sethyas cursed as he broke into a run. He was surprised that the Guard Captain attempted to attack Simion so early.

Sethyas launched himself onto the ladder, his katana pulled free from its sheath. Sethyas could hear Simion taunting someone as he made his way up. Expecting the worse, Sethyas climbed faster. He made it to the top just as Savlian’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell into unconsciousness. Simion, preoccupied and enveloped in his bloodlust, began cursing at the unfortunate event transpiring.

“This ends here, Simion,” Sethyas decided to call out to get his foe’s attention. Simion whirled around.

“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that today!?” Simion snarled in an annoyed fashion, “No one has yet to commit on those words yet. Just look around.” He gestured to his surrounds.

Dead guards littered the entire room, blood was everywhere and Simion was covered in it. It appeared as if he was bathed in the substance. Even his icy blue eyes appeared to be enveloped in flame. Sethyas couldn’t help but shake his head at the waste of life. Savlian should’ve known it was foolish to bring so many men in such a small space.

From this distance, it appeared that the Guard Captain had merely passed out from pain, but Sethyas couldn’t be too sure. This needed to be done quickly in order to get Savlian to safety. Just as Sethyas thought on this, Taris appeared beside him.

“Ahh, so you brought some help with you this time, Sethyas? Couldn’t do it yourself could you?” Simion mocked as he readied himself.

“I’m no fool, Simion. I know when I need help. You should realize that you need it to.”

Simion’s expression changed, softened in fact. Sethyas knew that this was the real Simion and not the possession. What Sethyas saw was a visage of agony and guilt.

“I do need help, Sethyas. I just don’t know how you could help me without killing me. I don’t seek death!” Simion said pitifully.

Sethyas sheathed his katana, hoping to show that he didn’t want to hurt Simion. “We do have a way to help you. We only need you to come here,” Sethyas said softly, as if he were speaking with a child.

Simion stared long and hard at the two assassins. Taris had followed his Master’s action and sheathed his weapon as well. Hesitantly, Simion began to take a few cautious steps towards them. Halfway there he suddenly stopped. His eyes clouded over and wincing, he fell to one knee, his hands clutching at his head.

“Y-you’re lying to me!” Simion managed to stutter out. It appeared as if he were struggling against something.

“No, don’t listen to it! We’re here to help! We just need you to be closer,” Sethyas said, encouraging the tormented assassin.

Simion shakily rose to his feet once again, his vision was no longer clouded but instead it was replaced with pain. Simion took a few more steps. Anticipation of a non-violent end to this raced through Sethyas’ mind. Mentally he urged on Simion’s every step. With one more step to go, Sethyas nodded to Taris. Taris withdrew Silverbrand and the enchantment stone.

Once Simion’s eyes fell upon those objects he instantly recoiled as if he was just burnt. Sethyas withdrew his katana as he noticed that Simion had lost control once again. The possession had returned.

“Ha! You seriously think I would let that happen? You are more foolish than Savlian!” the Voice spat.

“Enough words. Plan B it is,” Sethyas said before engaging the assassin.

Simion was ready though and blocked Sethyas attack easily with his dagger and with his unnatural strength he threw Sethyas away from him. Taris, brandishing Silverbrand, leapt at Simion’s back, hoping to drive the blade somewhere non-lethal. Simion appeared to sense the motive as he managed to kick the airborne assassin directly in the chest just before Taris could strike. The force of the blow sent Taris scuttling across the floor.

The attention of Simion returned to Sethyas, who was on the attack once again. Simion flipped over Sethyas’ mid ranged attack and on his landing he retrieved his second dagger that was still lodged in Savlian’s chest. Spinning around, Simion caught Sethyas’ overhead chop with his daggers and created some distance between them by kicking the Grandmaster away.

As Taris came to the aid of Sethyas, Simion simply batted him away. The youth did not possess enough of a threat at the moment for Simion to truly care. Sethyas on the other hand was a formidable opponent. He had to be dealt with first. With vigour, Simion unleashed a fury of cascading dagger swipes upon Sethyas, hoping that something would break through the defences of the Grandmaster. Yet, Sethyas’ defence stood and Simion had to break away to avoid getting attacked from behind, since Taris was moving in once again.

The effort of the multiple fights was beginning to take its toll on Simion’s body. He had begun to breathe heavily and sweat was beading down his temple. He knew that if he wished to survive, he’d have to do it soon or else he’d get caught. He was going to have to take some risks.

Blowing out a heavy breath, Simion leapt into the fray once again, attacking both assassins simultaneously. His daggers appeared to be a blur of motion as both Sethyas and Taris attempted to break past the whirlwind before them. Suddenly Taris yelped as a blade cut deeply into his shoulder, causing him to back away. The fury was no entirely placed upon Sethyas.

Judging the situation to be dire, Sethyas disengaged from his enemy in order to withdraw the Black Hands Dagger to assist him in this fight. Simion did not follow and only sneered at them.
“You think poison will defeat me? You are sorely mistaken, Sethyas. Even the legendary poison secreted in that blade will do little to harm me,” Simion boasted.

“That was not my intention, Simion. You shall see shortly what I have in store for you,” Sethyas replied slyly before turning to Taris, “Are you all right?”

Taris nodded as he staunched the blood flowing from his injured shoulder. Despite Taris’ assurance, Sethyas could tell that the injured arm was basically useless at the moment, or at least extremely painful should Taris decide to use it. Taris was just too determined to concede that impression though. Hopefully the injury wouldn’t prove to be their undoing.

Sethyas charged into the battle once again, his dagger and katana combo swirling in front of him. Simion held his ground and met Sethyas’ attack head on, stopping the Grandmaster in his tracks at metal crashed against metal. Both combatants began to circle around each other, clashing blades forcefully. Taris hung back as the two battle each other, looking for the right opportunity to dive in and sink Silverbrand into Simion.

The fight was becoming more and more intense the longer it went as each fighter struggled to keep up with their opponent’s pace. Suddenly, Sethyas cried out and dropped the Black Hand’s Dagger as Simion’s dagger bit into his hand. Simion kicked the dagger away and continued his onslaught. It wasn’t long until Sethyas cried out again, this time dropping his katana. It also was kicked away. Simion grinned as Sethyas, grimacing in pain began back tracking.

Sensing that his Master was in need, Taris attempted to get in between Sethyas and Simion. A hard kick to Taris’ arm sent Taris to the bloodstained floor, gasping in pain. Yet his action proved to be beneficial. The brief distraction allowed Sethyas to grab both of Simion’s wrists and twist them violent enough to disarm him. As soon as both weapons touched the ground, Sethyas launched Simion into the air with a hip toss.

Despite landing heavily, Simion bounced back to his feet and blocked the head kick Sethyas threw. The fight had shifted into unarmed combat. Feet and fists began flying. Sethyas managed to block a one, two combo to his head and answered back with a stiff kick to his opponent’s liver. Simion grunted in response but kept vigil to his attack as he faked a low kick and bulled his opponent to the ground. From there, Simion began to drop vicious hammer fist punches to Sethyas’ face, each blow emitting a sickening thud. Struggling, Sethyas pushed his opponent away from him with his feet and leapt up once again. Blood flowed out of his broken nose and Sethyas breathed heavily out of his mouth as he was no longer able to breathe out of his nose.

Simion grinned and began circling his weary opponent. He had gained his second wind and knew that with a broken nose, Sethyas would have difficultly keeping up with the furious pace he was about to unleash upon him. While bouncing around lightly on his feet, he began to tag Sethyas right in his broken nose with quick, snapping jabs. Blinking through watery eyes, Sethyas desperately tried to mount an offence, but Simion easily avoided Sethyas’ slower attacks. Simion was growing bolder by the second, as he began changing up his attacks. He feinted a punch and replaced it with a head kick that rocked Sethyas backwards. Simion giggled.

“Beating you to death… What better way would there be to kill you?” Simion asked through a bloody grin.

Panting, all Sethyas could do was wave his opponent to approach. Angered by the action, Simion went to punch Sethyas. The punch was caught and Sethyas trapped it in his arm. Simion tried the other hand. This too was caught. Simion looked into Sethyas’ eyes, stunned that Sethyas still possessed the energy to catch a punch. Instantly following that, Sethyas slammed his head into Simion’s, heavily dazing his opponent.

“Now Taris!” Sethyas shouted.

Amidst the haze, Simion felt pain race up his leg as Taris planted Silverbrand into his leg. Taris then smashed the enchantment stone, which blasted into many phosphorescent colours upon destruction. Suddenly Simion began screaming as if his mind was being torn apart.

Sethyas released Simion then and from his vantage point he saw a deep, black essence exude from Simion, creating an evil of unmistakable hatred. The aura began to pour itself back into Silverbrand. Once all of the blackness seeped back into the blade, it popped out of Simion’s leg, completely unmarked. Simion stopped screaming and collapsed to the floor, shuddering. Taris gingerly picked up the blade and put it away. Sethyas examined Simion’s leg and found no wound where the blade had entered.

“Are you ok, Simion?” Sethyas asked softly.

Simion face looked completely lost but after a couple more quiet questions he looked up to Sethyas. “I don’t feel it anymore… It’s gone!” he said weakly.

Sethyas helped the Breton to his feet. “Welcome back to retirement,” Sethyas said chuckling.

Simion paused, “So you’re not going to ki-“.

“I think we can break tradition in this case due to your discrepancy,” Sethyas replied before Simion could finish.

Tears welled up into Simion’s eyes before he tightly embraced the Grandmaster. “I can’t thank you enough for this!” he cried.

Sethyas closed his eyes due to exhaustion and patted the Breton’s back. “An assassin only kills when he has to,” he replied quietly.

A shout from Taris caused Sethyas’ eyes to snap open. “No Captain!”

Captain Savlian, armed with one of Simion’s daggers had somehow awoken once again and lurched into view. Sethyas tried to push Simion out of the way, but it was too late. The dagger plunged deep into the assassin’s back.

Sethyas felt Simion grow heavy in his arms and tried to lower the body gently to the ground. Savlian went stab Simion again, but Taris tackled him to the floor.

“What the hell are you doing!? Have you gone mad!?” Savlian screamed at the assassin.

“Do you realized what you’ve just done!?” Taris screamed back.

“Let him up, Taris, the damage has all ready been done,” Sethyas said sadly.

Behind the blood coating his face, Simion looked deathly pale. Yet he was smiling and he laboured for breath. Sethyas knelt beside him, a grim expression on his face; he knew that Simion wouldn’t survive much longer.

“I’m sorry, Simion,” he said quietly.

Simion shook his head and chuckled weakly. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It was fate that decided I should pay for what I’ve done. In fact, I think I got it easy. I won’t have to live through the guilt for the rest of my life…” he paused as he struggled for breath, “It doesn’t hurt either…”

Sethyas nodded. “Go now, former servant of Mephala.”

Simion grinned before the light faded from his eyes. Sethyas closed them sombrely and rose to his feet. He looked to the Captain and realized how confused the man was, he didn’t say anything though.

“So are you going to explain to me why I just got tackled for saving your life?” the Captain asked heatedly.

Sethyas simply shook his head. “He wasn’t killing me; we were merely embracing since we had just saved that man’s life.”

“What?”

Sethyas sighed. “Even if I were to explain it to you, you would not understand.” Sethyas examined the surroundings. He nodded to Taris who began to pick Simion’s corpse up by grabbing underneath his arms. Savlian interjected.

“Hey! What are you doing with him? This is a crime scene and must be dealt with accordingly,” he said, angry that he missing something.

“I see you got a mess here to clean up, Savlian. You look after your men, we’ll look after ours,” Sethyas replied calmly before grabbing the other end of Simion’s body. They began to leave the attic. Savlian followed them.

“But what are you going to do with him?” he asked them.

“We are going to give him a proper, Morag Tong burial back in Morrowind,” Taris replied.

Savlian sputtered for words but could not find any. He had no clue what went on while he fell unconscious. He was surprised he was even alive to tell the truth.

“Captain,” Sethyas said, getting the man’s attention.

“I can accept that the way you acted was justifiable. I could see how you could’ve thought I was being strangled and you were merely trying to save me, but I must tell you one thing. The ignorance of your race astounds me.”

With that, both Taris and Sethyas disappeared out of Savlian’s view with the body of Simion, leaving the Captain with the stench of blood and decay of the doomed men he brought with him. All the Captain could do was fall to his knees and shed tears of frustration, relief, and grief.


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All that's left is just to close things up and provide a bit of closure for the characters. That'll just take one more post. And just for the "Needless Fact" section. This update gives me 200 pages on Word. Hehe, I never thought I would write a 200 page story until now!

So stay turned for the closing update. I'll try to bust that one out for you guys sooner rather than later.

Posted by: canis216 Nov 12 2007, 08:24 AM

Wow, what a finish. Savlian man... that was biting rebuke he earned himself.

Posted by: jack cloudy Nov 12 2007, 04:02 PM

Wow, that was one heck of a way to end the fight. For some reason it feels as if Sethyas was planning on getting beat up, just to get the Voice in a cocky mood. Well whether he planned it or not, it worked.

If this wasn't a forum, you would be getting a standing ovation by now.

And a shameless request. Will you finish the Marthyn vs Luper clash once you've finished Bloodlust? I'm sure we would appreciate it.

Posted by: mplantinga Nov 12 2007, 04:40 PM

It is unfortunate that Simion could not be saved, especially given that they had finally removed the possession. But, he did have a good point; this way, he won't have to live with the guild which would inevitably have haunted him.

That was definitely an amazing fight scene, and a great way to end Simion's story. I'm not sure what loose ends you think need tidying, so I'll have to wait and find out.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Nov 13 2007, 08:23 AM

Oh yea! I still need to finish that don't I? Hehe, I'll try to get on that soon. But I definitely would prefer to bang out the conclusion/epilogue to this first. So please, bear with me.

To planty:

I just feel like bringing a bit more closure to this story is due. Like, I can see that I could potentially just end it here, and while it could be considered effective, it just doesn't exactly sit well with me. That's because I know I want to express a few more things through some of the characters in order to show the overall effect their journeys had on them. I kinda want to give a finality to it.

Posted by: minque Dec 2 2007, 11:54 PM

I;m speechless! Just speechless, I didn't expect the fight to end just tha way it did...What a writer you are Mallie!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Dec 6 2007, 06:56 AM

A few hours later, soldiers sent out by Ormellius arrived at Simion’s hideout and were shocked to see the carnage of the battle that had taken place there. Faces drained of colour began to search through the bodies to check on any survivors. In the middle, separated from most of the bodies, Savlian Matius rested face first on the ground. Blood loss from his wounds had caused him to fall into unconsciousness and the soldiers immediately took him down and sent him to the barrack’s infirmary. They then began the solemn task of collecting the dead that Savlian had foolishly led to their demise.

It took a full week for Savlian to completely recover physically from his battle with Simion. Mentally was another issue. Throughout the week, Sethyas’ final words had kept repeating in his mind. Obviously the fact that Savlian had killed Simion had displeased the assassin. Still, Savlian was having a hard time believing that a man could flip dispositions from maniacally insane to passive, wounded victim in a heartbeat. If the possession was at fault for Simion’s crimes, and the Captain was beginning to believe such a reason more and more, Savlian still felt that at times it was Simion himself that was trying to kill them. Wouldn’t killing him then be justified? Somehow Savlian was beginning to think not.

Savlian thoughts also drifted to all those loss during this whole ordeal. Sure, Kvatch was a better place without the likes of Hlodir, Simion, and Vernon, but was the cost truly worth it? The Town Guard has taken an extremely heavy loss due to Simion’s assassinations and the battle with Hlodir’s bandits. Innocents such as the homeless Madsen and Bernise also dismayed Savlian’s conscience, so deeply in fact that he dreams were being haunted by the good people loss. It resulted in fitful sleeps that left him haggard and distraught. Still, life had to go on. He still had a job to do.

Shortly after being cleared from the infirmary, Savlian made his way to the Count’s Castle decked out in his uniform. Despite the troubles of recovery and the sense of loss, Savlian couldn’t help but feel of small sense of restored vigour while wearing his uniform. As he passed through the gates, the men attending returned warm welcomes and salutes. Savlian returned the gesture, happy to see that his men still had trust in him. It was another worry he had as he rested in recovery. Despite the hell the Town Guard went through, his men appeared to understand that Savlian himself had experienced the brunt of it.

It wasn’t long until Savlian found himself before Ormellius’ quarters. After a sharp knock, the Count bade the Captain of the Guard entry. Ormellius, dressed in well made, but reasonably plain clothes, smiled as he exchanged a handshake with the Captain.

“You look much better than the last time I saw you,” Ormellius stated.

A quizzical look crossed Savlian’s face. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t recall seeing you after fighting Simion.”

Ormellius waved the remark off as he went back to his chair and gesturing for Savlian to take one. “That’s because you were still unconscious. I checked up on you right as you were brought to the infirmary. Sethyas had told me that you have been seriously injured.”

“You’ve spoken with Sethyas?”

Ormellius nodded. “He and Taris arrived with the corpse of Simion. He told me what happened once they got there and I allowed them to take Simion back to Vvardenfell. I immediately issued soldiers to get you once hearing your predicament.”

A small smile crossed Savlian’s face as he listened to Ormellius’ words. He was touched to hear that the Count cared about his well being. It appeared that things were mending between them.

“What do you think about his rendition of the fight?” Savlian decided to ask.

“Well…” the Count began, pausing as he looked closely at the Captain, “I believed him.”

Savlian looked away. “I apologise for being so foolhardy. At the time I simply believed Sethyas’ concept to be ludicrous. I’m sure if I really thought about it –,” Savlian began before Ormellius cut him off.

“Captain! You were simply doing what you thought was right at the time. In the current state you were in at that time, it would’ve been difficult for you to process things quickly. Both Sethyas and I agree with this. He certainly wasn’t happy about how it ended, but he has accepted it and left that day. I suggest that you don’t try to communicate with him less you bring up those dark feelings once again,” Ormellius said sternly, yet with care and conviction.

Savlian nodded and his mood brightened. “Thank you, sir.”

Ormellius stood and clasped hands with his Captain. “We must put this dark time behind us. I can’t have you living in misery. I need you to keep this town safe. A lesser man would’ve broken long ago, but not you. I like to think I’m a good judge of character so please don’t make me disbelieve that notion,” Ormellius said smiling.

Savlian visibly squared his shoulders and stood to his full height. “You are right, sir. Expect the best out of me. This Captain isn’t going anywhere!”




A small, cool breeze lapped water against the beach. The Redoran Canton of the city of Vivec loomed in the background as several robed figures stood before a coffin and an open grave. One figure, dressed in a deep red robe lowered his hood and revealed himself. Sethyas stood before a small gathering of Morag Tong assassins, Taris stood by his side. One of their own was being put to rest today.

“Brothers and Sisters, we are here today to remember one of our fallen comrades. Simion Mandrake was a skilled member of our guild. During his time in the guild he served Mephala faithfully. For that, we must remember him. In his retirement, he suffered from a vile possession and did many inconceivable things that would tarnish the good name of our guild should it have been known he was one of our own. Yet, in the end, he died as himself, a Brother of this guild. It is this reason why we honour him today as we would any other member,” Sethyas stated, placing a fist over his heart. “So please, Brothers and Sisters, let us pay our respects to our fall comrade.”

With that, Sethyas knelt down next to Simion’s coffin. “May Mephala guide you on to the next life,” he murmured softly before rising to allow the others to do so.

Taris clasped a hand on Sethyas’ shoulder. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Sethyas nodded, a solemn look on his face. “It is what he deserves,” he simply stated.

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Well, that's it! Done! Finito! Whatever else that means "it's over". Yet, do not fear loyal readers (and I definitely mean loyal due to the amount of breaks I've been taking!), I do intend to continue posting stories here. My next one I don't expect to be as long as this one, but I hope it proves to be as successful as I believe "Bloodlust" has been.

I'd like to thank anyone who has read even a portion of this story, even if they haven't posted a comment. Still, I'd like to specially thank those who have posted comments: your praise definitely kept me motivated. I'd also like to thank Chorrol.com for creating such a wonderful site with wonderful people. I'd also like to thank all my fellow writers here as their stories have certainly entertained me and have also provided ideas and techniques that will certainly help me to be a better writer in the future.

Cheers to you all!

Posted by: Lord Revan Dec 6 2007, 01:41 PM

Well, Bloodlust is complete...... Congradulations, Metal Mallet, here's to literature and hard work. Now I absolutely need to finish a certain story of my own, have a nice break...... wait a second! You still need to finish the Marthyn vs. Luper match!!!


Jk, enjoy the break while it lasts, MM. Bloodlust was a masterpiece, I remember reading it for the first time.......

Posted by: mplantinga Dec 6 2007, 04:44 PM

I believe I questioned earlier whether this story needed this final installment. I'm glad to see that you made excellent use of it, and clearly proved me wrong. It was indeed nice to have everything wrapped up. I feel quite hopeful about Savlian's future in the guard.

Thanks for this excellent story and it's excellent conclusion. I do hope we'll see other writings from you in the future.

Posted by: jack cloudy Dec 6 2007, 10:22 PM

I don't think I have anything to add that hasn't already been said.

Well, I'll just babble like a donkey without a head for a while then. (Donkey without a head, how did I come up with that?)

I'll be looking forward to your next story. Whether short or long, as long as you put the same skill into it as you've put into Bloodlust, things will be fine. And I would have given you a subtle nudge towards a certain project, but it appears that someone got in ahead of me.

Anyway, take it easy and stuff. Don't get stressed out and try to rush updates all over. It will only make you feel horrible.

Posted by: minque Dec 10 2007, 11:57 PM

I agree with Dr Planty....excellent ending....of this story! I'm glad you will continue sharing your good writer's skills with us

Thank you for this Mallie!

Posted by: Black Hand Dec 13 2007, 10:03 PM

Wow, I have been gone for a bit. But it lookas though it was well worth it friend. And I thank you for the honor of using Sethyas in this wonderful story.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Dec 14 2007, 10:49 AM

Not a problem Black Hand, I'm glad you're happy with the result. It's excellent to hear that I did your great character justice.

Funny thing that you popped up though. I was thinking about PMing you to notify you that the story was complete because I was fairly certain that you'd be interested in how things turned out. I hope your visits become more frequent but we all know how real life can be...

Posted by: minque Dec 16 2007, 08:52 PM

Hmmm, I tend to include Sethyas in my story as well, he must have made a great impression that guy....heh