Legacy, Book II of the Corruption Trilogy Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue
4E 512

My ebony long sword danced into the flesh of the heretics. It would slide itself into one, and then tear into another. I noticed each of the heretics cower as Lord-Templar Draconis walked forward. We all kneeled as he strode to the middle of the battle-field.

“You dare defy the word of Kalian Broodikus, Heretics?” he shouted. “The Inquisitors ‘may’ show mercy if you accept the error of your ways.” It was rumored that Lord-Templar Draconis had traveled with Kalian himself. Apparently his aura of fear intimidated most of the heretics and they dropped their weapons.

A fair-haired woman with snowy skin shouted, “You may break our bodies, but Kalian is long-gone. He is no god.” Each of the heretics, who had surrendered, picked up their weapons and charged.

“Troopers of Kalian follow the Templar into war,” I cried out. “Their attempts to defile Kalian’s Valor will go unsuccessful.” I watched as the chain-mail clad troopers charged into battle behind us templar.

Lord-Templar Draconis shouted out a prayer, “Lord Kalian, please bless me with the ability to control holy fire!” Suddenly a long, thin serpent of flame was conjured and it was commanded by the Lord-Templar. Within moments, the battle-field had the stench of charred flesh. The stench of heretic charred flesh arose from each of the blackened corpses.

“Templar, lead your troops back to Skingrad,” the Lord-Templar ordered. “Templar Ashur, report to me in Castle Skingrad.” The grassy plains were stained with blood and ash. It was the price of war. Lord-Templar Draconis wished to speak to me, but why?

We began marching to Skingrad. Well over forty miles, we’d likely arrive in two days. However, what did Lord-Templar Draconis want of me? Had I done something wrong? Few earned the Lord-Templar’s attention without either impressing or angering him.

After two eventless days of marching, we saw the bustling city of Skingrad. The sermons had just ended and children were out playing. Men and women alike were working. When they saw us marching, they applauded. We were the Templar and the Troopers of Kalian and their protectors.

The soldiers slowly drifted off to perform their own affairs, but I found myself walking towards Castle Skingrad. Civilians and Troopers saluted me alike. Across Tamriel, any Templar was revered. Finally I reached the large, double doors of Castle Skingrad and the troopers opened them.

I nervously walked towards the throne room. Sitting on it was Lord-Templar Draconis in his armor. We both were. Templar always wore their armor except when they bathed or slept. I pulled off my helmet, “Lord-Templar, you asked for me to come?”

“Templar Ashur, you rallied the troopers,” he slowly explained as he pulled his helmet off. His white skin, icy blue eyes, and jet-black hair made him look even more intimidating. Those eyes followed me and I could feel them searching me for fear.

“I did, Lord-Templar,” I replied honestly. “It’s my duty as a Templar to unite them under my word. I am a Champion of Kalian’s Will.” My voice was sincere, proud, and afraid all at once. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or impressed yet.

“Templar Ashur, I’ve watched you for some time,” the Lord-Templar nodded. “Kalian and I were once friends. We fought side-by-side and once against each other. I wish for you to bring me someone…actually somebody of much importance to me and to Kalian.”

“Who do you refer to Lord-Templar?” I questioned.

“His native name is Sar-Kura or as he is called in Tamrielic, Quick-Strike,” he explained. “Quick-Strike was one who trained Kalian, as I did as well. However, I taught him in the Ways of the Old Religion.”

“What is the Old Religion?” I wasn’t sure if it was worship of the Aedra or the Daedra. Or if it was worship of some ‘god’ that wasn’t either of them.

“The old religion is worship of the Aedric Deities. Many followed them before Kalian saved Mundus and became a god.”

“Sar-Kura, is he dangerous?” I knew the answer to that. If he taught Kalian anything he was likely a master of his trade.

“He once bested me in combat before I could draw my sword.” I gulped. The Lord-Templar of Cyrodiil was the most powerful of the Lord-Templar. He was second only to Kalian and he only answered to the Templar-Emperor out of respect, not fear.

“And you seek for me to bring him to you, Lord-Templar?”

“Kalian will guide your blade and ward you from Sar-Kura,” Lord-Templar Draconis nodded. “After Kalian became a god, Sar-Kura betrayed his pupil and refused to acknowledge that Kalian was the only deity worthy of worship.”
“He betrayed his own apprentice? Who could do that to their own pupil?” I heard the words of betrayal to Kalian. But how could one who taught him and fought with him betray him?

“The Argonian assassin did it to Kalian. Also, ‘J’skooma’ or ‘Ra’Kyre’ is a Khajiit Wizard who was extremely loyal to Sar-Kura while I traveled with him.” The cold breeze of the castle winds forced me to shiver, but I simply nodded acknowledging what he said.

“The last time I spoke to Sar-Kura was twelve years ago right below the top of the White-Gold Tower,” he explained. “He’ll likely find you before you find him, Templar Ashur.” Those words sent ice up my spine.

“Yes sir, when may I leave?” I asked curiously. “And may I take some other Templar or some troopers with me?”

“You’re to go alone,” the Lord-Templar stated. “Let your equipment be your shield and your faith be your weapon. Sar-Kura and Ra’Kyre must pay for their treacherous actions.” I slowly bobbed my head to show acknowledgement and I grabbed my helmet. As I walked out, my black cloak flowing softly behind me.

The Templar looked at me and saluted with a fist to chest. When I reached the giant, double-doors two troopers pulled them open. I had to begin my search, but where? Who would know anything about them?

[Acadian]

So, it's back to Zalphon lore. Plenty of familiar names and a new protagonist is seems?

I'll be interested to see how things go with Q-Stick & J-Cat this time around. They are wonderful and enduring characters!

Nice to have you back and writing!

[Zalphon]

Have had writer's block. And now I'm starting to write semi-professionally (not enough money to live on, but it lines my pocket). I'll give links to it once I finish. I warn you all, it's sci-fi (that's what the e-magazine editor wanted or fantasy...and I didn't want to give that out).

[mALX]

WOO HOO !! My favorite characters are BACK !!! WOOOOOOT !!!

[Zalphon]

Chapter One: True Sight (Part I)

With my hands tightly holding the hilt of my blade, I walked through Skingrad. The Troopers and the Citizens saluted with fist-to-heart as I walked by. They knew the Templar were Kalian’s Finest. We modeled ourselves after the Champion of Nirn.

The sun was beginning to set, creating a beautiful horizon. As I walked, I noticed many head back to their homes. The curfew kept people safe from the darker entities of Tamriel. The beautiful colors melded together in the sky, warming my heart slightly.

I turned around, curious to see what eyes were following me. What I found startled me. A Nord in Nordic-Steel Chainmail stood there, watching me ever so curious. He opened his mouth and said, “In the east, I wait…”

I went to walk closer to him, but then he faded away in a puff of smoke. What was that? Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me or maybe this was one of the Tribal Shamans put to death for their heresy. I didn’t know which, but I had to investigate. I turned back around and marched east, my eyes forward.

The Troopers moved out of my way. The Templar was a symbol of heroism across Tamriel. To the icy north in Skyrim to the searing deserts of Elsewyr, we were feared and respected. After two troopers pushed open the gates for me, I saw an ethereal, silver wolf sitting. It stood up and started walking further to the East.

What choice did I have, but to follow? Maybe this spirit could lead me to Sar-Kura and Ra’Kyre. Hopefully it would. The bright sky turned from blended colors of yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples to ebon night lit only by the shining lights in the sky and the huge sphere called the moon.

For what seemed like an hour, I walked in the grass-and-dirt land with the spectral creature. It was when we finally reached a cave that it dissapeared. A loud shout echoed on its way out, “Come in, Templar.”

Slowly I unsheathed my sword and stepped in. I muttered a prayer under my breath and my sword burst into holy light. It illuminated the entire cave and there I saw a silver-haired Nord in a suit of Nordic-Steel Chainmail. “Who are you?” I asked slowly. “You’re one of the Nordic Shamen aren’t you?”

“I am Cyril…And I have foreseen your fate, Ashur,” he stated calmly. His pale hair was whiter than the snows of Bruma. I could see the pain in his eyes. Those deep blue eyes told a story of pain, agony, and regret.

“And that is, Heretic?” I asked, my grip tightening. I was nervous, not because I cared what he would say, but because he had the power to lure me here. Few could do that to me.

“The Templar burned my village to the ground. Skaal was once a peaceful place for my people,” he sighed. “When the Templar invaded, we fought them off with all we had. I led the defense, but we weren’t strong enough.” I could see the old man tightening his own grip on the steel mace at his side. However, he released it fast enough.

“Tell me, Heretic,” I asked. “Why shouldn’t I behead you where you stand?” His eyes looked at me glumly as he kneeled. He put his hands behind his back.

“Kill me, Templar. Prove you’re nothing more than the dogs you claim to be above,” Cyril nodded. “I know you seek the ones who stood by Kalian.”

I sheathed my sword, “It is the will of the Lord-Templar they are brought to justice.” My voice was full of pride and duty. Cyril let a glare escape. He said something under his breath. I could tell it wasn’t good.

“Do you ever think for yourself, Ashur? Or only what the Lord-Templar tells you?” he responded after a moment of contemplation. I looked at him and shook my head, but was that the truth? Did I ever think for myself?

[Acadian]

So Ashur finds himself with a touch of self-doubt here. Some interesting history. By the way, I quite like the alternate names for our old friends: Sar-Kura and Ra’Kyre - very creative. So perhaps this Nordic Shaman will offer a point in the right direction.

[Zalphon]

I figured they needed names more fitting than Quick-Strike and J'skooma. I thought it over and decided to give them names with more depth.

[mALX]

The last three paragraphs are outstanding !! Powerful Write, Zalphon !! Sorry it took so long to get over here, had a few VERY hectic days !!!

[Zalphon]

Chapter One: True Sight (Part II)

I bobbed my head, trying to convince myself more than him. “I do think for myself quite often,” I explained. “Cyril I am a Templar, though. It is my duty to follow their will.” I could see his eyes brighten slightly as he looked back at me. He knew that I was trying to convince myself and made him see something I couldn’t. What, though? Was it weakness?

In my hands, I felt a faint tingling. Cyril looked behind me and there stood a woman in a black, velvet robe with the hood pulled up. Her eyes met mine. Deep, oceanic blue eyes told a long, sad story. Her face was pale and little bits of brown hair were revealed from the hood.

“Who are you?” I asked. The staff in her right hand was made of ebony and mounted atop it was a hovering, scarlet octahedron surrounded by four smaller ones. Her eyes looked to me, then Cyril.

“I am Evangeline Amelion, once better known as Evangeline Mortalitis or in Aldmeri: ‘Evangeline the Deathly’,” she replied.

I hastily jumped to my feet and ripped my sword out of sheathe, “You’ll either surrender or die, Necromancer.” She raised a brow at my actions and muttered under her breath. A split-second later I was surrounded by skeletons.

“You’ll bring me no harm, Templar,” she commanded. “If you try, you’ll not succeed. I assure you.” I tried to speak, but Cyril placed his hand over my mouth and nodded. He slowly pulled it back after he was sure I’d be silent.

“Why have you come here, Traitor?” I spit. With a glare, she wiped my saliva off her face with one of her gloved hands. I noticed the grip she had on her staff tightened. It showed rage.

“I am no traitor,” she explained. “I am one of the few people alive preserving this lost art.” The skeletons dropped and the Shaman tightly gripped his weapon. I looked at her as she released her grip slightly.

Her eyes shifted from me to the Shaman and then back. “I know you seek the Argonian and the Khajiit…and I’ve come to help.” What was I to say to that? She could be a useful ally, but she was also a practitioner of the forbidden craft.

“Very well, Necromancer. However, if you dare betray me, I’ll cut you down before you can even say a single spell,” I threatened with sincerity. “I do hope you’re wiser than that.” Would that intimidate her?

“Very well,” she devilishly smiled. “I look forward to meeting Sar-Kura and Ra’Kyre again. It’s been too long since we last spoke.” What did she mean? How would she know them? I wasn’t entirely sure of her intentions, but I knew that she could be of use.

[Acadian]

Woot! Evangeline's back! You are really pulling lots of Zalphon lore pieces together here! And now, perhaps, we have a path to Sar-Kura and Ra’Kyre.

[Zalphon]

We've got friends both old and new...I was wondering if anyone would recognize that name. I like seeing the characters evolve. Obviously her skill in the 'dying art' is much improved to when she traveled with Kalian.

[Zalphon]

Chapter One: True Sight (Part III)

I looked back at her before I lied down. “The Spirit of the Bear watches over you,” Cyril told me. “It will protect you, should any harm come.” My eyes closed and within minutes I felt sleep take control of my deprived mind.

When I drifted into consciousness, Evangeline was sleeping and Cyril was looking out of the cave. Rain was pelting the ground in heavy drops and thunder echoed with each snap of lightning. I walked over to him and then stood by him.

His eyes were scanning the horizon. “Ashur,” Cyril said as he faced me. “I can see the seeds of doubt in your heart. You know that Kalian wouldn’t ask his followers to butcher the ‘heretics’.”

“I know you’re right, Shaman,” I responded. “I just wish I knew what he would want. Would he want me to stay or fight the Templar?”

“Kalian would want you to fight,” a voice came from the blackness of the cave. “You are a Templar, but you don’t have to be one of those who blindly follow Merrik Bryne.” It wasn’t Evangeline’s. Cyril and I both turned around.

An Argonian stepped closer. He wore black leather armor. His scales were abnormally dark. “Yes, it is I, Ashur,” he stated. “Quick-Strike is my name or as many now know me, Sar-Kura.”

“Where is Ra’Kyre?” I asked in a surprised state.

The Argonian looked at Cyril, then to me, then to the ground. He put his face in his hand and barely said loud enough for me to hear, “J’skooma’s dead, Ashur. He died at the hands of Raynil Korr.”

“Who is Raynil Korr?”

“He leads a new, sub-faction of the Inquisitors who take a more hands-on approach to ‘heretics’,” Sar-Kura explained. “This sub-faction, they call themselves the Shadows of Kalian. They operate in complete secrecy and rarely do they ever contact another unless Korr speaks to them.”

“They’re an organization of Witch-Hunters who will hunt down and kill ‘heretics’,” he continued. “They’re extremely autonomous and skilled at what they do. They’re specialists in interrogation as well.”

Evangeline woke up and saw the Argonian standing there. “It has been a long time, Sar-Kura,” she reminisced. “I do miss the days when we were fighting against Zalphon, not Kalian.”

“We’re not fighting him, we’re fighting Bryne,” the Argonian hastily corrected her. What was happening? I was standing here before three heretics. But why didn’t I want to fight them? Maybe they were right and this really wasn’t what Kalian wanted.

Evangeline looked at me and smiled softly, Quick-Strike nodded, and Cyril just watched me. I was changing. A few days ago I was a Crusader of Bryne, then I was a Templar of Kalian…What a Templar of Kalian should have been...

[Acadian]

How neat to see the return of Q-Stick in his black fashionable glory! What a shame that the crazily magical Skooma Cat is no longer with us.

You are building some wonderful doubts and growth into Ashur!

Nit: ’I looked back at her before I lied down.’
Lay versus lie is a mind numbing study into transitive and intransitive verbs, but one well-worth learning for a writer. The short answer is that you want ‘lay’ here instead of lied (or laid). The longer answer is best learned by googling ‘lay vs lie’ and review such sites as this one: http://www.elearnenglishlanguage.com/diffi...ies/laylie.html You need to wrestle through the differences between the simlar words that relate to someone reclining, placing something or telling an untruth. Lied is actually the past participle of telling an untruth.

[mALX]

Chapter one (True Sight Part II) was an Awesome write - one of your best writes IMHO. Really great display of detail in the actions of the people involved that furthered and fit the scene perfectly !! Awesome Job, Zalphon !!!! Now to the next chapter, I am so sorry I haven't had time to get over here before now.



(Part III) - Acadian said it right, "you are building some wonderful doubts and growth into Ashur." The quote below brings us through the turmoil in his own mind as he faces what he was, what he is becoming.

I was changing. A few days ago I was a Crusader of Bryne, then I was a Templar of Kalian…What a Templar of Kalian should have been...

Awesome Write, Zalphon !! Your time away has given you a fresh outlook for your story that is wonderful !!

This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 29 2011, 03:21 PM

[Zalphon]

I like Ashur. Just as I liked Kalian. They're both very unique characters. Kalian never wanted to be a grand hero, but as you can see, he ended up becoming one.

Ashur always viewed the Doctrines that Merrik Bryne and the Inquisitors preached as the only way. However, he's slowly evolving to see the world isn't so black and white.

[Destri Melarg]

I love the new names given to Q-Strike and Skooma kitty! I am also quite impressed with Ashur (tell me, did you lift that name from Spartacus on Starz?). His inner conflict is playing out nicely in this story.

The bright sky turned from blended colors of yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples to ebon night lit only by the shining lights in the sky and the huge sphere called the moon.

I wanted to quote this sentence for two reasons. First because it is a truly excellent descriptive passage, one of the best of yours that I have read to date. But I also feel the need to point out that there are two moons that light the skies above Nirn. I take it that what Ashur is looking at is a full Masser new Secunda, like this.

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Aug 29 2011, 09:27 PM

[Zalphon]

I forgot about the two moons. And I got it, because the dark elves tend to have Assyrian names and it means "War" in Assyrian. I'd hardly call Templar Ashur and Slave Ashur similar.

One's essentially a paladin, the other is a two-faced, lying (albeit brilliant) scum bag!

[Zalphon]

Chapter One: True Sight (Final Part)

Sar-Kura looked at me and stated, “Let me ask you, do you remember the time before Bryne ruled?”

I nodded my head, I was a child, but I did. “The days when people still held faith in the Nine,” I replied calmly. “The days before the Arch Lich conquered. Back when the name Zalphon meant nothing.”

“The days when I was still a young dabbler in the arts, not a master,” Evangeline mumbled. “That seems like so long ago, doesn’t it?” The Argonian gave her an annoyed glare alerting her to be silent.

“Ashur, those were the days when Tamriel knew peace. However, nothing stays golden forever.”

“I know what you mean, Argonian. Nothing truly does stay golden forever, but where is this conversation going?”

He walked out of the cave and pointed what I thought was north. “We head for Skyrim. It is there where Bryne’s influence is weakest, save for the Summerset Isles and Argonia.”

“Home,” the Shaman looked back. “Skaal, the one place I ever felt was home.”

“We’re going to the Caves of Fjalding. It is there that Ashur can become more than a Templar,” Quick-Strike planned. “It is there, that we’ll each become ready for the upcoming war against Bryne.”

“The Caves of Fjalding,” Cyril nodded. “Many young warriors would go there, speaking of how they would bring glory to themselves by slaying the Draugr. None returned from the Caves of Fjalding, at least not in my life. Do you honestly believe the Templar can handle them?”

“What’s a Draugr?” I asked curiously.

Cyril looked me in the eyes, “Nords who have feasted upon their own kind. As a punishment, the All-Maker turned them into flesh-hungry undead.” The question was, what would Kalian seek of me? Would he want me to aid these people or turn them into the law?

I looked to Cyril and said nervously, “When do we leave for Skyrim?” For the first time, I thought I saw the Shaman smile. Evangeline grinned and pulled back her hood to reveal a beautiful mane of dark, brown hair. Quick-Strike nodded and we began to walk north.

The path we took was rarely traveled from the looks of it. The forest had reclaimed it for the most part. There were little remnants of civilized life on this road save for our footprints.

Evangeline had an entourage of skeletons following her. Each clad in conjured armor and holding conjured weapons. As night slowly faded to day, Sar-Kura led us to a dark series of caverns.

Inside, stalactites dripped to the stalagmites below. However, in the center of a circle of them was a puddle. As I crept closer, I pulled my helmet off and looked into it. Mid-length black hair, ashen-grey skin, and scarlet-red eyes were what stared back at me. What was different from when I looked in the mirror in my quarters?

I was different. The person I saw looking back at me wasn’t the person I knew, he was someone else. Someone I was becoming. I had no idea if it was for good or bad, just that I had changed. I knew one thing, I wasn’t turning back now...

[Acadian]

Ashur is really changing. Even he can see it.

I loved Evangeline's undead entourage!

[Zalphon]

Chapter Two: The Trials of the North (Part I)

I looked outward to the opening. Light was beginning to make its way into the cave. Slowly, I removed my armor and laid down. The uneven, rough dirt made it uncomfortable, but that was what my life was becoming. I wasn’t always going to enjoy the luxuries of comfort anymore.

A long, restless, dreamless sleep followed after I was fell victim to it. When I opened my eyes, the light was gone. However, I could make out a shadowy figure standing in the mouth of the cave.

It stepped closer. A Khajiit in steel platemail with a silver claymore strapped to his back looked at me. The heavily armored humanoid looked to the back of the cave. His deep, commanding voice echoed, “Sar-Kura, do you remember who I am?”

“Ri’Skar. You’ve grown since Ra’Kyre and I left the dunes of Elsewyr,” The Argonian replied. “If you’re seeking your father, he’s gone.” I could see that Quick-Strike was still hurting over not stopping his friend as he stepped closer.

Ri’Skar nodded, “I know. I also know it was Bryne’s Empire that brought him this death. I’ve been searching for you for the past ten years, ever since the Templar came to Elsewyr.” The icy winds blew into the cave, but I did my best to hide the fact that it made me shiver.

“You were only a boy then,” Sar-Kura responded curiously.

“And now I am a warrior. Sar-Kura, the people of Elsewyr are little more than slaves,” the Khajiit explained. “The people get to eat very little, while the soldiers live like kings. I want to ask you to help me stop Bryne.”

“I am Ashur Selos, a true Templar of Kalian. I’d like you to join us in our mutual goal,” I interrupted as I got to my feet. “Kalian wasn’t a man who believed in hunting down all who disagreed with his ideals.” I did my best to sound confident, but I wasn’t sure I did as I spoke.

“I do not trust you, Templar. However, it seems I have little choice.”

I extended my own gauntlet-covered hand. He grabbed it and we shook hands, “Ri’Skar, we will take back Tamriel. Or die trying. We’re headed to the Caves of Fjalding in Solstheim, off the coast of Skyrim.”

“Very well, when do we leave?”

“Now,” Sar-Kura blurted out before I could speak. The Khajiit nodded and we began to walk. Ri’Skar was now one of my growing group of companions. We each had our own goals, our own desires, but we all had a mutual goal.

The question was simple, would this be enough? I couldn’t say as we walked under the cloak of night. I looked up and saw what appeared to be mountains, “We’re close to the borders of Skyrim.”

Quick-Strike responded, “Meaning we’re even closer to Bruma.” That thought made my heart skip a beat. We were close to a city. And that meant we were even closer to the patrols that would come from the city.