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I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens |
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Lena Wolf |
May 21 2024, 12:02 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Hearthfire, 3E437 - Survival When Lena lifted the trapdoor to Fort Farragut and started descending the rope ladder, Lucien was bandaging his wounds. There had been an attack, the Black Hand had sent an assassin, a Silencer perhaps, judging by the skill. Lucien won, but only just. He managed to stop the bleeding, but he needed to heal before he could do anything else. His fort had been safe so far, he could always open the gates and let the Dark Guardians enter, should the need ever arise... He would need to be watchful. Hearing the trapdoor open made him jump. His first impulse was to cloak in chameleon and see who it was without being seen. Soft boots and leather trousers soaked in dark blood, iron breastplate... it was Lena, badly wounded as well. She looked pale like a sheet, grey even, gaunt, her eyes feverish, unseeing... She inhaled sharply and immediately started climbing up - she smelled him, of course - she was leaving. Alas, her strength failed her and she fell. "You must leave now!" She said, her voice sounding distant and hoarse like he never heard it before. Her face and arms were covered in blood, both red and black, her neck had several cuts with dark liquid oozing out... "Leave now! I cannot hold it for much longer..." She crawled away from the ladder to give him space, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. "Stay away for half a day at least, I shall be gone by then one way or the other..." No, he could not allow that. He hoped he had enough blood to survive, he lay down on the bed and waited. He watched her eyes glaze over, with every human expression gone. She pulled herself up, she could not stand. She could not see either, he thought, she bumped into things that were in the way, but her senses led her directly to him. He felt a sharp pain in his neck... "They say it only hurts the first time," he thought. "It hurts less than a dagger... and I should know." He closed his eyes and hoped he had enough blood to survive. ... It only took a few minutes and Lena released her grip, falling to the floor. Lucien rubbed his neck, he only felt slightly light-headed. He got up and went about removing blood-soaked armour from Lena's unconscious body. She had a lot of cuts and she was cold. He wasn't sure whether an ice bath would do any good for a vampire and decided against it. Instead, he cleaned her wounds and prepared a healing dressing, adding a touch of lavender and motherwort, to sleep and remember nothing. He moved her to his bed and cleaned up the floor. His own wounds caught up with him by then and he too fell asleep on a rug by the fire. ... Lucien's sleep was light. He heard movement in the room, he looked up and saw Lena thrash in her sleep. "The wraith," he thought, it had to be. He could not help her fight the wraith, but he sat next to her anyway, checking her dressings. Most wounds seemed to have closed, he replaced a few bandages, and soon Lena calmed down, the wraith defeated. It must have been hard, for her face looked grey. "Well then, they say it only hurts the first time," he said softly. "Shall we put it to the test? I think you need more blood." He moved her gently and lay on the bed next to her, his neck exposed. A minute later he felt her fangs pierce his neck. "I felt it, but pain it was not," he reflected, closing his eyes. This time he was certain he had enough blood to survive. This feeding left Lucien weakened and sleepy, yet he still wasn't worried - he'd experienced loss of blood before and knew that he was in no danger of dying. He wanted to get up and go back to the rug by the fire, but found himself too weak for that, with his wounds taking a toll as well. Lavender in Lena's dressings made him sleepy, and he gave in to that, staying next to her. He awoke several hours later realising that Lena was no longer cold as ice. She was still cold, but the air no longer froze around her. He checked her dressings, replacing a few, she was doing better. He checked his own dressings and replaced some as well. He still needed rest. He looked at the rug by the fire, shook his head and went back to bed, pulling a blanket over both of them. Lena slept without movement. "They say vampires don't twitch in their sleep," he looked into her face. "Perhaps. Except when they have to fight the Wrath of Sithis," he smirked, settling down. "Sleep well, Wolf." He put his hand on her shoulder and felt a heartbeat. When Lucien awoke again, he found all his wounds closed and all Lena's wounds healing nicely. She was still asleep, and he didn't expect her to wake up considering how much lavender he put into her dressings. "She will sleep for half a day at least," he thought. "And I should soon be going." He did not want to be there when she woke up, he'd rather she didn't remember what happened. He looked into her face - she was still pale... too pale, perhaps. He laid out her armour, it was damaged but not too bad, it was mostly just covered in dried blood, nothing more. A large ruby amulet dropped out of a hidden pocket. "Oh wow - that's... I see." He looked at her again and knew that she needed more blood if she were to survive what came next. "Come on then, let's hope your instincts kick in..." He lay on the bed again and placed her head on his neck. She breathed in sharply and bit it without waking up. This time Lucien couldn't get up. He still felt he was not in danger but he certainly could not leave. He was feeling the chill of the loss of blood, so he pulled a blanket over himself and Lena in order to keep warm. She was warm, he noticed. Her heart was beating. "And they say vampires' hearts don't beat," he thought. "Hers didn't beat at first, but look at her now... I wonder..." He hugged her and fell asleep. When Lucien woke up next, Lena was twitching in her sleep. "She'll wake up soon," he thought. He got up and started getting ready to leave. He took a few steps and felt dizzy, his wounds were hurting too much and he felt weak. "I am not going anywhere today," he shook his head. "There's only one thing for it - watch and wait." He sat in the darkest corner of the room waiting for Lena to wake up. He didn't have to wait long. Soon she sat up looking around, trying to remember what had occurred. She could not smell him, there were so many other scents in the room. Lucien sat cloaked waiting for her to leave. No, she didn't remember a thing. She got dressed, left him a note, tucked the Amulet of Kings into a hidden pocket and left for the Imperial City to crown the late Emperor's son. "Good luck to you, Wolf," Lucien said when she was gone. "Hope to see you again." He got into bed and fell asleep as both his wounds and his blood needed to heal and recover.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 21 2024, 10:40 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Hearthfire, 3E437 - The end of an era Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City. He entered Mundus - they were too late to crown the last Septim as the Emperor and the Dragonfires weren't lit. But Lena felt it was no reason to give up, and Baurus agreed - Baurus, the one Blade who didn't resent Lena her vampirism. "The Emperor trusted you, he saw something in you," he shrugged when Lena asked why he kept treating her nicely. "The Septims see more than us ordinary folks. I trust the Emperor's judgement." It did imply that all the other Blades did not. On the day when Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City, Baurus found Lena in the turmoil of battle. "We cannot close all these Oblivion gates!" He took her aside. "There are too many. I think Mehrunes Dagon himself is coming." "I agree," Lena nodded. "That idiot with the amulet wanted an official blessing of the Elder Council before putting it on... so instead of lighting the Dragonfires while he still had the chance, he had me escort him to the Elder Council... Can you imagine?! Does the man ever think about anyone but himself?!" "Well, he is a Septim, so keep your voice down," Baurus looked around. "Septims are known for their stubbornness. We'll just have to deal with it." "Do you have a plan?" Lena looked at the hordes of daedra pouring into the streets from the many Oblivion gates. They seemed to be going towards the Temple of the One, not bothering with pursuing mortals who ran for cover. "The population was warned over and over to hide in their houses or in the sewers in case of an invasion," Baurus was watching the streets too. "It seems to be working. So we can focus on Dagon." "Speaking of which... Here he comes!" A giant stepped out of an Oblivion gate, his axe aimed at the Temple. "He wants to destroy the Temple!" Baurus cried, knocking an arrow. "I don't know if this will work... but we should try!" The battle was epic indeed, Dagon seemed invulnerable. Yet whenever someone hit him hard, he staggered, unable to attack. "We should pull him over!" Baurus shouted. "He will fall and we'll have a chance of going for his head!" "You must get me to the Temple!" Martin suddenly stood next to them. "I have a plan!" "What plan?" Lena squinted at him. "It's too late for the Dragonfires." "You'll see," Martin scowled. "I don't have to explain anything to you. I am the Emperor." "Almost but not quite," Lena turned away, knocking a poisoned arrow for Dagon. "Can't you see - we are busy." "You'll have to take him to the Temple," Baurus said to Lena, his voice practically covered by the noise of the battle. "He'll do something stupid, no doubt, but getting him killed will be worse. We'll pick up the pieces afterwards, as always." Lena rolled her eyes and turned to Martin. "Follow me, Your Majesty," she said dryly. "Don't fight along the way and keep close. Why are you not wearing armour again?" She didn't wait for a reply and pulled him into an alley. "Why are we skulking about?" He protested. "The Temple is that way, we should take the shortest route!" "We are taking the shortest route," Lena retorted. "The one with the fewest daedra along the way. I am here to keep you alive but I am no necromancer! So try not to die prematurely!" The way with fewest daedra was still challenging enough, but eventually they made it to the Temple with Martin still alive. He ran to the altar just as Dagon smashed through the roof... "An immortal can only be killed by another immortal!" Martin shouted and Lena realised it was his explanation. "I summon Akatosh!" And then he did it - he broke the Amulet of Kings. A huge shock wave went through the Imperial Isle, rolling on to the furthest corners of Tamriel, Lena was certain. "What are you doing?!" She shouted. "We do not need another Dragon Break!!!" But it was too late, Martin stood by the altar, heavenly light streaming through him. A moment later he turned into a flaming dragon and attacked Mehrunes Dagon. "Bloody Dragonborn!" Was all that Lena could say. The dragon was of course effective against the giant Dagon, but she could not stop thinking that Martin had lost his nerve and did the one thing an Emperor must never do - break the Amulet of Kings. "Oh... that is worse than I thought," Baurus ran in and stopped, watching the dragon topple Dagon, with both of them turning to stone. The Oblivion gates collapsed and the city guard finished off the remaining daedra. The war was over. "What are we supposed to do now?" People were coming to see the statue of the dragon. "We have no Emperor, no Dragonfires and no Amulet of Kings to protect us! What will prevent the daedra from invading Mundus again?" "I just don't think about it," others would shudder. "The Elder Council will handle it sooner or later..." ... "I suppose it isn't as bad as that," Baurus ordered another mug of ale at the All Saints tavern in the Imperial City. "The era of the Septims has finished, and with that Akatosh himself put a new seal around Mundus to protect us from future invasions." "If you believe such a thing," Lena smirked, drinking deeply from her own mug of ale. "Nah, of course not, Assassin," Baurus grinned. "But at least we survived." "Assassin," Lena smiled. "That's what you said when we met back there under the Imperial Prison..." "Seems it was a lifetime ago..." Baurus nodded. "But I was right, wasn't I? You had it in you right from the start." "You are not supposed to know it, really..." Lena looked at him sideways. "You know how it is..." "I know exactly how it is," he nodded. "I also know what is going on... If you need any help, I am often here... Just don't tell Jeoffre, he's... well... just don't." "I don't need to talk to him ever again!" Lena scoffed. "I don't blame you," he smiled. ... The Oblivion gates seemed to have all but vanished. Stray daedra were still seen in the countryside here and there, but overall peace was restored and life went back to normal. Lena was still facing the Wrath of Sithis every time she slept, and assassins were still ambushing her on a regular basis, but overall her life felt like a breeze compared to the last year or so. Lucien's life however was only getting harder. The Black Hand sent another Silencer after him, and that time he came off barely alive. Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut and he literally fell through the trapdoor, not able to control his movements. Yet he recovered and resumed his search for the traitor. Anvil was the key. "You need to trust your apprentice," his mother told him when he came to visit her at the chapel - she was a Priestess of Dibella. "My apprentice?" He looked up at her in surprise. "The young Wolf," she smiled. "A bit too young for you just now, but time tends to correct such things..." "What..?" He was taken aback. "No! She is..." "She touched your heart," Irene Lachance looked at him seeing a young Novice of Dibella. "I know you, my son." Lucien shook his head and looked away. "She is remarkable, true," he admitted. "But she is my Sister... my apprentice... all right, I'll accept that," he nodded. "And right now she and I are both being hunted by our own Brotherhood, and so far it's been only getting worse..." "Your father tried to spare you such a fate, that is why we left Morrowind and he's been staying away," she said wistfully. "Don't think for a moment that I don't miss him... I won't live to see him return, I don't think..." She looked away, brushing off a tear. "But you... your life should be long, like his. Take care not to die too early." "Mum, don't talk like that." Lucien took her hand. "I have no intention of dying. And neither should you." "Not yet, no," she smiled at him. "Just promise me not to rush into marriage again, wait for the right woman." "That I can promise," he replied, taken aback. "Marriage is really the last thing on my mind right now... Sometimes you surprise me, mum..." He gave her a long look trying to figure out what brought that on, but she only smiled and didn't explain any further. ... "Trust my apprentice..." Lucien heard his mother's words in his mind again. "Well, I suppose we could call her that. And here is something for her to do..." He noticed a dock hand put a scroll into the barrel mentioned in Lena's last contract as the next dead drop. "What's that lad got to do with Dark Brotherhood contracts? Perhaps I should have a word." He followed the dock hand to the nearest tavern and watched him order a large mug of ale. "Mind if I join you?" He sat next to him at the bar. "Didn't realise you were a fisherman." "Fisherman?" The dock hand looked at Lucien with incomprehension. "What are you on about, man? I ain't no fisherman..." "No? I saw you put some fish into a barrel just a few minutes ago," Lucien smiled. "What's the catch today? Haddock or cod?" "I... What???" The lad rubbed his eyes but the ale was already making him see double. "What's it to you?" "I like fish, is all," Lucien shrugged. "It's alright, I'll go and have a look for myself, if you won't tell me." "I got no clue what it is, honest!" The lad finally realised that the man in a black robe sitting next to him was not a mage from the local guild. "I can't even read well enough! Talk to the lighthouse master, it was all his idea!" "You think he's got fish?" Lucien smiled. "Well, you might be right, you know..." "The basement..." The lad stuttered. "The lighthouse has a basement..." That was as much as Lucien managed to get out of him, so he left him to his ale. He walked over to the barrel outside but found it empty. "Not good," he thought. "They saw me..." His mother's words sounded in his head: "Try not to die too early..." Quite. He should leave Anvil, and quickly. "Take this to the Champion of Cyrodiil," he picked a card with a view of the Anvil lighthouse from a range at the Black Horse Courier office. "Got to join in the congratulations, right?" He joked with the clerk. "It isn't every day that we get saved from a daedric invasion!" He wrote with a florish "Congratulations to Our Saviour!", signed "LL", paid his fee and saw the clerk toss the card into a large sack marked "Imperial City". "She's due there for the ceremony of awarding her the Order of the Dragon," the clerk explained. "Fear not, The Black Horse Courier never loses anyone's mail!" ... Shadowmere was a remarkable horse. Not undead as some thought, she was in fact one of the black horses from the Cheydinhal stables. But nature had given her eyes with a red glow and made her faster and quieter than most horses, and so legends arouse around her which Lucien found amusing and never tried to deny. Shadowmere could outrun almost anything, moving swiftly and silently through the woods, always returning to Fort Farragut without the need to be directed by her rider. It was that ability of his horse that was saving Lucien's life again and again, as the attacks by the Black Hand were getting more and more frequent. "Just how many Silencers do they actually have?" He wondered trying to outrun three assassins chasing him across the Imperial Reserve. "Let's try a diversion." He directed Shadowmere towards a group of ogres making camp by a cottage in the woods. "That's odd..." He looked back at them. "But convenient!" The ogres were too slow to catch Shadowmere but fast enough to block the way of the three riders in pursuit. He escaped this time... He didn't always have ogres coming to his rescue however. More often than not Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut barely able to stay in the saddle, and sometimes even lying across it. On one such night he could barely see the trapdoor, he opened it with the last of his strength and dropped through it. He saw movement in the room, but couldn't get up or resist. "That's it, I die too early..." he thought. "Forgive me, mum..." Perhaps the new era was not meant for him.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 22 2024, 09:12 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Frostfall, 3E437 - Cards Lena kept receiving ridiculous amounts of mail. Everyone seemed to want to congratulate the new Champion of Cyrodiil, or to meet her, or to get acquainted, or solicit her patronage of their shop, or, or, or. She instructed the Black Horse Courier to keep back the mail in their office and not try to deliver it to her in person, unless the package was sent by a premium service. She knew that the Blades and the Mages Guild would use it, and she didn't expect anything else of importance. The Blades never contacted her again, the Mages Guild did call her for one or the other assignment, but otherwise she seemed to have been left alone. In particular, there was no word from Lucien, and after a while she started to worry. It is for this reason that she didn't get Lucien's card until a while later, when she finally took the time to go through all the fan mail accumulating at the Black Horse Courier. She was to investigate Anvil then, in particular the lighthouse. "But why use such an uncertain and insecure method of communication?" She wondered, turning over the card and kicking herself for not checking the fan mail earlier. "He must be in trouble. I should see to him first." She didn't know how exactly she could "see to him" as he was still her Speaker and it was not her place to "see to him" in any way... and yet she felt that the circumstances justified a breach in protocol. She went to Fort Farragut without delay. As soon as she descended the rope ladder, she knew that something was wrong. The room that Lucien normally kept very tidy, was in disarray, with clothes, weapons and potions out of place and the alchemical lab a mess. Some of the clothes seemed to have been ripped into strips, too. "He's being hunted," she realised. "He's on the run... What do I do..?" With all the mess around, it still looked like Lucien kept coming back to the fort, and when Lena found no evidence of it being compromised, she decided to simply tidy up and refill his supplies, brew some potions, restock the cupboards... She couldn't think of anything else to do. Between Borba's shop and the Mages Guild, she got all she needed, returning to the fort for an extended session of alchemy. She was barely in when she heard the trapdoor open - Lucien was returning home. She stood up, ready to apologise and explain her presence when she saw him fall, not able to stand. He seemed to have noticed her though, turned towards her, tried to get up... but he could not. "This is bad..!" Lena rushed to his aid, but he had already blacked out. Things were much worse than she had thought. When she removed his blood-soaked clothes, she realised that many of the wounds weren't fresh. The hunt had been relentless, and he had not been taking enough time to allow the wounds to heal before going out again. Lena blushed to the roots of her hair thinking of how she wasted precious weeks simply because she could not be bothered to check her mail often enough. "He could have been killed in the meantime," she swore at herself. "How could I be so careless..?" But lamenting it wasn't going to help, and so she took a deep breath, steadied her hand and proceeded cutting out necrotic tissue from some of the festering wounds on Lucien's body. She knew it would hurt, but she didn't think he would notice, considering the amount of pain he must have been in already. Finally, she bandaged him up and moved him to the bed, making sure to add lavender to the dressings to prevent him waking up too early. "Let's just hope he won't be fighting the wraith as well this time," she watched him, but his breathing was calm. ... Lena decided not to leave Fort Farragut until Lucien woke up and she had a chance to change his dressings. She busied herself brewing more potions and set up a stew, only leaving briefly to fetch coal and firewood from a disused passage by the city wall. And there she saw it - three assassins were clearing vermin, they were a distance away and hadn't seen her yet. "They are going to have a run at the Sanctuary," she thought. "I've got to stop them." What was she thinking, exactly? There were three of them and one of her, and unlike them, she wasn't even properly armed or armoured... But she didn't think of that. She was a vampire and a mage, and she was going to press home her advantage. Standing behind a column and out of sight, she summoned a wraith and shot a frost ball at one of the assassins. He spun around, gasped and leaped towards the wraith. The others weren't surprised - dark disused passages often housed undead, and in fact they were battling some zombies already. Lena's wraith backed off, leading the assassin past the column where she was standing. It was too easy - she slit his throat from behind. Noticing their comrade fall, the other two assassins became more careful. "There's someone here," one said to the other. "That wraith had been summoned." They quickly finished the zombies and turned around, walking slowly towards Lena. "Careful now, one at a time," she told herself, allowing them to come close. When they were nearly upon her, she summoned a clannfear, cast invisibility and ran towards the other end of the corridor. The clannfear shrieked, jumped and rammed one of the assassins, but the other assassin shook his head and ran towards Lena instead. He could not see her, she was sure of it, but the corridor only had two ends, and he simply deduced her maneuver. She stepped further back and felt her shoulder ripped by a zombie... "She's here!" The assassin cried, seeing Lena's invisibility cloak dispel. "Forget the clannfear! The mage is here!" Although the second assassin could not very well forget the clannfear, he stopped trying to kill it and focused on evading it instead, hoping it would be dispelled soon enough. They had both seen Lena now, as she was forced to fight the zombie. "Not good," she quickly looked around, twisting away from the zombie that tried to grab her. "What was I thinking?!" Casting invisibility again, she jumped towards one of the assassins, not trying to attack him but instead trying to shake off the zombie. It worked - the zombie switched its focus engaging the assassin. "What now?" Lena wondered. "Another wraith? Or perhaps something more exotic?" She grinned, ran back to the front of the corridor and summoned a lich. The lich appeared behind the column hiding it from view of the assassins, one of which was fighting the zombie and the other was trying to locate Lena. He thought he had seen a spell being cast and moved towards her, but the lich had already summoned a skeleton that ran towards the assassin. "A skellie?" He grinned. "Why, that is too easy!" Perhaps he had been expecting a novice skeleton cast by beginners, but this was a skeleton guardian, with a much better sword and a power to knock out through force of impact alone... The assassin reeled, his armour colouring red. "What the..?" He was surprised, but quickly collected himself, ready for a counter-offensive. "Forget the skellie, go for the mage!" The other assassin shouted, seeing what had occurred. He was still battling the zombie and could not help. "The mage, right," the assassin redressed himself, now trying to avoid the skeleton's attacks and looking for the mage instead. He ran past the column and faced the lich. "Is that... Is she a necromancer?" He was taken aback for a moment, then pulled out his silver sword and struck the lich. "Arrhhhh..." The lich let out a hollow sigh but recovered and shot a spell from its staff in response. The assassin staggered and dropped to his knees, his strength suddenly failing him. "The lich is a summon!!" The first assassin bellowed, having finally killed the zombie. He ran towards his friend, helping him up. "The mage must be here somewhere! We must find her!" The lich shot another bolt of pain from its staff and vanished. Lena had no more magicka for an advanced summon, she had to keep some in reserve for invisibility... She lunged at one of the assassins, breaking her cover. The fight was brief but her tactic gave her an edge and she landed a few hits before jumping back to avoid getting wounded herself. The assassin wasn't dead, but after his fight with the zombie the extra wounds made him weak. Still, it was two against one. "No where to run now, mage!" The assassin got up and the two of them started walking towards Lena, their swords extended, blocking the corridor and backing her into a wall. "No more summons? Why, getting tired, eh?" They taunted her. Indeed, summons were out. She was wounded and the fight with the zombie before that stunted her magicka flow. Zombies were cursed. No more summons... but perhaps... Searing pain and overwhelming weakness hit one of the assassins, his blood seemed to boil. "What was that?" He wondered, watching the other assassin land a blow on Lena, yet she did not seem to be hurt. Red mist engulfed him as he fell to the ground, he saw Lena circle around him, absorbing the mist, resisting the blows from the other assassin, even lunging herself with a cut or two of her own. Yet she seemed to be growing weaker too, despite all her efforts the two of them would still prevail somehow, he was certain. Gathering all her strength, Lena leapt at the one assassins still wielding a sword. He was prepared to block, but there was nothing to block, for Lena was not wielding a sword herself. Instead, she grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him against the wall, then buried her fangs in his neck. She was hungry, she drank in big gulps, and soon the assassin fell to the ground. She let go of him and got up. Both assassins were still alive but unable to move or fight. Their wounds were severe, they were no threat to the Sanctuary any longer. The first one propped himself on an elbow, looking at her in the dim light of the passage. "You are Wolf, are you not?" He said with an effort. "There's a contract on you as well." "I know," Lena nodded. "Brother." She paused, looking at them both. "I won't kill you two, you might still survive. We've lost too many Brothers to this madness already." She turned to leave, then changed her mind. "You've seen what a vampire can do," she spoke again. "Think well before visiting the chapel to cure that souvenir I gave you to remind you of this encounter... You've got three days to make up your mind." Then she finally walked away. "Thank you, Great Uncle, that was most effective," she said under her breath, climbing back out into the daylight with firewood under her arm. Back in the fort Lucien was still sleeping. Lena added logs to the fire, stirred the stew and resumed brewing potions. Her feeding in the passage came in handy, although it did dull her senses somewhat. She was engrossed in her alchemy and didn't hear Lucien wake up. ... "I seem to be still alive," it was the first thing that Lucien thought when he woke up in his bed in Fort Farragut. His whole body was hurting, he was sure he hadn't sustained quite so many wounds... But wait... someone was waiting for him there, was there another struggle? Then why was he not dead? He tried to sit up, but it was too painful, making him grunt. He tried to pull himself up instead, he had to see what was going on... "Be careful, or your wounds will reopen again," he heard Lena's voice as she approached. She helped him sit up, propping some pillows behind his back. "You need to be watchful, Speaker," she smiled. "Someone could have been waiting for you in your fort." "And someone was," he smiled at her. "Thank you." "No," Lena shook her head. "You cannot continue like this if you are to survive. You need to make sure your wounds heal before getting new ones." "Who am I to argue with the Champion of Cyrodiil," Lucien grinned. "Did you get my card?" "I did," Lena nodded and blushed. "Just a few days ago... I was ignoring my fan mail." "I should have known," Lucien laughed, cringing at the pain. "It isn't that urgent. Anvil is the key." "The lighthouse." "You understood it then." "I shall go when you can stand up," Lena nodded. "There's been another attempt to Purify the Sanctuary today." "It won't stop until we find the traitor." He fell silent, and Lena got up to bring him some stew, then insisted that he should rest, that she would be fine on the floor. "Vampires don't feel the cold," she shrugged. "Our hearts don't beat." She adjusted his pillows and added some logs to the fire, then returned to the alchemy station to prepare more dressings and remedies. "You don't fool me," Lucien thought, falling asleep. "My apprentice..."
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 22 2024, 08:30 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - Time to die Lucien's trip to Anvil some weeks previously appeared to have spurred on both the traitor and the Black Hand - attacks on Lena and Lucien became more frequent still, and the Sanctuary was being invaded again and again. The hunt was relentless. Lucien ventured another visit to the Sanctuary, this time during the day, hoping to see his assassins, whoever was still alive, and may be boost their morale a little, since there wasn't much else he could do. He went through the Black Door in the abandoned house, avoiding the well and hoping that it would have been sealed anyway. It was. "Who goes there?" Gogron greeted him, his axe raised - he was on watch. "You won't get past me!" "Hello, Gogron," Lucien said, trying to sound cheerful, or at least calm, and failing on both accounts. "Speaker!" Gogron stopped, strained to look at Lucien, and only lowered his axe after some time. His face was swollen and he wore a bandage over the eyes. "Forgive me, I cannot see very well," he said, grinning. "Got a cut over my face... But no matter! I can hear the vermin... No one will get past my axe!" "I have no doubt, Gogron," Lucien patted his arm. "How are things?" "Dire," Gogron was serious now. "Everyone's wounded, one way or the other... Not one of us is at full strength. But we are all still alive! I can hardly believe it myself. Ocheeva's strategy proves most effective..." "That is good... You need to stand strong... We are getting close to finding the traitor, which means things will get much worse from now on." "The final stretch then," Gogron nodded, his face set in resolve. "If I fall... It's been an honour, Speaker." Lucien went to the dormitory wing and found several assassins in bed, bandaged up. Some could not stand, but, like Gogron said, everyone was still alive. "Borba has been our life line," Telaendril told him. "She's been leaving supplies in the abandoned house... even after we ran out of funds." "Borba surprised me," Lucien nodded. "Said it was time to show her colours... You must look out for each other and try to stay strong." "We do that, Speaker," Telaendril said softly. "It's good to see you... to know that you're still alive." "The worst is still ahead," he squeezed her hand. "Remember how you tried to kill me when I came to you with my offer?" He smiled. "You were good... very good. Better than our assassins that were sent after you... what? three, four times? And you improved since. There is no better archer in the whole of Tamriel, Telaendril." She smiled and blushed, and Lucien thought that perhaps he should have been praising his assassins a little more often - they did look up to him, after all. He went around the room and spoke to each of them, saying something personal every time. "You are our mage," he said to M'raaj-Dar. "Perhaps not a healer, but I know you have some vicious spells," he grinned. "Do not hold them back." "Oh, I don't, Speaker," M'raaj-Dar grinned back. "And if all else fails, Khajiit will tear them into shreds with his claws. Khajiit never gives up... not even in death - this one's ghost will come and help, should the body fall..." Ocheeva was in the hall when Lucien came out of the dormitory. "You took a risk coming here, Speaker," she looked sternly at him, then smiled. "But we are glad to see you. We are all still alive, somehow... Gogron tells me the worst is coming next." She became serious and nodded. "You are getting close to catching the traitor, this is good. Try not to die now... The Sanctuary will fall with your death." "Stay strong, Ocheeva," Lucien touched her shoulder. "Remember our training... Everyone can be replaced. Should I fall, you will be the Speaker." "I'd rather not," she sighed. "But I'll do what I can for as long as I live... however short it may be." They stood in silence for a little while, Gogron watched them from the other end of the hall, his hearing was superb. He nodded to himself and straightened his back. No one would get past his axe while he was still standing. Vicente was in his room. Lucien noticed how gaunt his face was, pale with a shade of grey - he was famished. "I stay here to reduce the risk for everyone else," he said. "I have not been feeding... not because Borba stopped delivering blood," he waved his hand at a row of bottles, "but because of the powers that come with the hunger. I prefer to feed on the enemy," he smirked, but his eyes were sad. "On our Brothers... I hope this madness will end." "We are close, Vicente," Lucien nodded. "Do what you have to. Survival is key." Lucien stayed a bit longer, telling Ocheeva and Vicente what he discovered in Anvil, and that Lena would go there next. "When she finds the traitor, she must bring her report to the Listener," Ocheeva pointed out. "You cannot be the one to deliver it since you are a suspect yourself. The Listener will verify her findings, I am certain he won't just dismiss them... It will cause a delay but it has to be done. During that time the Black Hand will move against you." "How do you know this, Ocheeva?" Lucien was taken aback, but there was no suspicion in his voice. "Deduction," she shrugged. "I am not the traitor." "Ocheeva is right, that will be the most dangerous time," Vicente nodded. "Everything points to it." Lucien nodded, looking somber. "We'll do our best." He got up to leave. "This may be the last time we meet... if so, tell everyone - the honour has always been mine." ... Lena's investigation of the Anvil lighthouse did not yield any clues to start with. She tried asking around, but being a vampire didn't help and people simply refused to talk to her. The mages at the Guild weren't turning her away as such, but Carahil was visibly boiling with rage every time Lena entered the building - she was strictly opposed to any form of undead, vampires included. As a result, Lena tried to stay away and had no where to sleep. She would usually curl up behind the chapel, trying to stay out of sight. She had to feed often to keep her vampirism down, and she felt guilty for using beggars when she could not find smugglers or bandits... But finding the traitor was more important to her, and she had to keep fit to do it. One night she found a bedroll behind the chapel where she used to sleep, there was a note inside: "With Dibella's blessings". Lena looked around, she thought she saw a priestess' robe behind the trees. "Thank you!" she said, but didn't try to follow. After a week or so in Anvil, Lena started noticing someone shadowing her. She felt she had to shake them off, or better yet kill them, and she could not do it in town, so she mounted her horse and rode leisurely East. When she was between Kvatch and Skingrad, she was attacked. They started by killing her horse while she was on it - the horse collapsed, trapping Lena's leg under its weight. The blows came thick and fast, but Lena was still stuck, trying to free her leg... her iron breastplate protected her heart but it would not save her life in itself... "Should you die, do try to rise again," she suddenly recalled Lucien's words, said in a jest, no doubt - the idea was not to die. "You cannot kill me - I am a vampire!" She shouted, finally pulling her leg from under the horse's body. She jumped up, a dagger in each hand. She could not block or cast any spells that way, but that was not her intention. She spun in place, her daggers extended, slicing her attackers who did not expect such a move. She was bleeding herself, but it only fueled her rage. "I smell your blood, I smell your fear!" She screamed, twirling between them again. Two attackers in dark leather armour, the Brotherhood armour... They froze for a moment, but quickly recovered from their surprise, closing in on her from the opposite sides, silver swords in their hands, silver swords with a fire enchantment. "We came prepared, vampire!" One of them cried. "Take that, foul beast!" Their swords really hurt. Lena dropped one of the daggers freeing a hand to cast spells - vanish and try to escape, she no longer had any hope of winning. She vanished, but her boots were filled with blood and were leaving bloody footprints on the ground... "Not every vampire can rise..." Lena thought. "Not if killed with a silver weapon... Forgive me, Speaker, I failed..." She ran but her attackers pursued her, she heard their footsteps catching up... then there was a sudden cry and a thump - a fall, she figured. Perhaps he tripped on a root or something. She spun around and lunged at the other attacker, may be she still stood a chance... But his sword was quick and he parried, giving her a cut on a thigh. She stifled a scream, trying to ignore it, jumped back, readying a spell... she was not dead yet... But the assassin was skilled, he lunged at her with all his weight, knocking her to the ground, his sword poised at her neck. "Time to die..." she thought, expecting the final blow. ... Instead of the burn of a silver blade cutting her throat, she felt the warmth of a hand checking her pulse. "Vampires have no pulse, I forgot," Lucien shook his head, wondering how to determine whether Lena was still alive. He had been on his way to Anvil, not having heard from her in two weeks after she left, so he thought she might have needed a hand. He saw the attack from far, and wasn't sure what he was seeing - if those were bandits attacking a traveler, he was not going to intervene. "The Imperial Legion is supposed to be patrolling the roads, not spend their time sipping ale at roadside inns," he scoffed. "I've got enough of my own troubles." But when he approached, he realised that those were no bandits... He shot them from a distance, they were probably still alive, but they moved no more, and his priority was Lena, not some unfortunate Brothers who got the curse of this contract. He pulled her free from the assassin and removed her breastplate thinking to massage her heart. "Err... Does that even make sense?" He stopped. "I don't know a thing about first aid for vampires...." He looked at her wounds and noticed that some of the cuts were still oozing blood. "Still bleeding... Does it mean she is alive? Let's hope so... Well then, bandage the cuts, I suppose..." ... Lena felt someone touching her neck searching for a pulse. "Vampires have no pulse," she thought, "but I am not dead." However, her wounds were severe, she could not even open her eyes. The person pulled her from under her attacker, removed her breastplate, placed his hands on her heart and gave it a push... then stopped, realising that it was futile. He bent over her, checking her wounds... His scent was bitter and sweet at once... Lena's heart gave a jolt. ... Lucien didn't know what to do but decided to bandage Lena's wounds and give her some time to recover, hoping that she wasn't dead. He ripped up his shirt into strips and used up every last drop of a healing solution he had in his pack. "I need to be better prepared," he thought. At least, a shirt was not imperative to wear under a robe. "I could not have ripped up my robe for strips," he reflected. Eventually Lena opened her eyes. Lucien was sitting by the fire, trying to brew a simple potion with aloe vera and some other herb... it wasn't a lab, but it would do. "Thank you for saving me... again... Speaker," Lena managed to say in a small voice, she was still very weak. "You live still!" He bent over her. "I could not tell... but I hoped..." "You can never be sure with us," Lena smiled. "Not dead, not alive..." "Shush now, drink this," he brought a cup of aloe vera tea to her lips. "It's not a potion but I hope it will help." Lena drank and the warmth of the liquid spread through her body. She closed her eyes and slept. ... When Lena woke up a few hours later, the night had fallen. She smelled roast - Lucien had killed a boar. He evidently prepared to camp there for a while, having refilled his skeins with water too. "You look pale," he said, having examined Lena's wounds. "I think one of the Brothers is still alive... perhaps he's got enough blood to sustain you." "I don't want to feed on our Brothers," Lena objected. "They got that contract..." "You don't have a choice," Lucien looked her in the eye. "The boar will not be enough. It will dawn soon." He was right, of course. Lena got up with difficulty and walked over to her attackers, both lying a short distance away. One was already dead, the other still lived. He looked at her as she approached, but did not resist when she turned him over, exposing his neck. "Forgive me, Brother," she said, sinking her fangs into it. She took it all, massaging his heart after it stopped. He died in her hands, his life feeding her existence. But she had no choice, besides he would have died anyway, most likely. She returned to the campfire, now able to sit unaided. Lucien was slicing up the boar on the spit, carving its flesh where it was ready for eating. He used lotus leaves as plates, and Lena smiled at that. "Thank you, Speaker," she said. "Thank you for coming to my aid again." "Call me Lucien," he looked up. "Please, these are no ordinary times... And stop thanking me." He looked away and Lena thought that he wanted to add something but changed his mind. "Tell me about Anvil." Lena told what she had discovered, which wasn't much. "I could not get into the basement of the lighthouse," she said. "Not yet, anyway. The lighthouse master doesn't have the key - he said that the tenant insisted on taking every key to it, and indeed I couldn't find any keys anywhere. I couldn't pick the lock either, not even with magic... Then I thought to watch the door until it opened, but someone was shadowing me, and I tried to lose them... and ended up here." "You were right to lead them away," Lucien nodded. "We'll have to try again, we are getting close." They talked a bit longer, then took turns sleeping with one of them keeping watch. The night was quiet, as was the day that followed, but they both knew that the hardest part was still to come.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 23 2024, 08:32 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - The lighthouse The door to the basement of the Anvil lighthouse appeared to be bolted from the inside. Lena could not pick the lock, not even with magic. "It is either a magical lock or... I should wait until someone comes out." This was Lena's plan before she realised that she was being shadowed and tried to lead away the assassins. If it wasn't for Lucien, she would have been dead... but he happened upon that battle just in time, and now both of them stood on the hill by the Lady Doomstone overlooking the Anvil Bay. "He must come out of there sooner or later!" Lena was becoming impatient. The lighthouse master did tell her after some persuasion that the tenant was a middle aged man, a mage perhaps, often dressed in a simple black robe. He didn't even know his name. "He pays in advance for a year!" The lighthouse master exclaimed. "Every year, without fail! I don't ask any questions!" "A Speaker or a Silencer," Lucien concluded. "He must be among the Black Hand... but at this point it doesn't matter that much who he is, as long as we find some proof... I know it sounds strange, but I don't care who it is, as long as our names are cleared, all our names..." Lena didn't think it sounded strange, she shared the sentiment. Their exile and persecution had been going on for too long. They've been waiting for several days watching the door, but no one came in or out. "He might not be there," Lena mused. "But we still cannot open the door." "But last time you watched him, you got shadowed," Lucien noted. "And before that, when I noticed that substituted scroll, they were watching. We'll have to bait them, there's nothing else for it. You stay here and watch. I'll stir up some fuss." "Just try not to die, Speaker," Lena said in her thoughts as she didn't dare to say it aloud. Lucien went to the basement door and knocked. When there was no answer, he banged on the door with his fists, making as much noise as possible. Several fishermen heard him and turned to look. He banged on the door again, then gave up and walked off towards the harbour with several people watching. There he started asking every passer by whether they'd seen a man in a black robe who lived in the lighthouse basement. No one had seen him of course, so Lucien went to the Flowing Bowl, ordered some ale and prepared to wait. Lena remained by the lighthouse watching the door. She hid in the bushes hoping to blend in sufficiently to remain undetected even without casting any spells. She wore a chameleon ring, it wasn't powerful enough to conceal her completely, but every little helped, she figured. She sat there for a long time and nothing happened. Her skin started to burn slightly even though she fed just the night before, but being out in the sunlight all day was still going to affect her. She decided to ignore it. Then finally the night fell and she saw a dock hand approach the door and knock softly in a particular pattern. A secret knock. They should have expected it. The door opened briefly, a scroll was passed through it to the dock hand, and the door was shut again. So the man was inside, she had to assume it was he. The dock hand stashed away the scroll and quickly walked back to the harbour. Had Lucien seen him? Lena wondered. She couldn't see him in the harbour, but that didn't mean much. She had to decide what to do, the dock hand was walking fast and would soon vanish from view. On a whim, she decided to follow. The dock hand walked to the stables by the Northern gate, said a few words to a stable hand whom Lena had never seen before, passed him the scroll, turned around and walked back to the harbour. The stable hand mounted a horse and took off at a gallop. Lena saw Shadowmere following, so Lucien had been watching. She wondered whether he was being led into a trap. She was sure he realised the danger, but like her, he could not just ignore that bait. Everyone was baiting everyone, it seemed, and she wondered who would have the last word, the last move in that chain, and whether there was a way to get ahead and avoid being baited. She couldn't see such a way. She turned around and followed the dock hand back to the harbour. He walked to the lighthouse and knocked on the basement door with a different secret knock. The door did not open and he left. "He passed his message," Lena figured. It also meant that the man in black robe was still inside, and as long as he was inside, Lena could do nothing but wait. The night was still long, but if she were to stay out the following day as well, she had to feed, which meant she had to leave her post again. She hesitated. Ah, but may be there was another way. ... "Pssst!" Lena had run to the harbour and was now standing by the side entrance of Fo'c's'le where the dock hand was headed. "Get it here at half price!" She hissed, flashing her thigh. It had been a common enough thing to do, she'd seen it many a time, and indeed the dock hand grinned and turned to look at her. "This way - behind the house!" Lena motioned him to follow and he did, eager to save his money. When they were out of sight of the street, Lena cast a spell. "Come with me, I know a quiet spot," she said softly. "Anything you say, darlin'," the dock hand staggered after her, as if charmed. "Works every time," Lena grinned, leading him into a smuggler's cave nearby and out of sight of the city guard. She wanted to feed, yes, but she also had other plans for him. Once in the cave, she quickly recast the spell to make sure the charm still held, then gently pushed him against the wall, leaning onto him. "I've seen you around, my handsome," she said in a low, guttural voice and the man started to drool. "What'ou been up to? The lighthouse is my turf." "Is it?" He moaned, his eyes glazing over. "Lucky me." "Not been looking for me then?" She said in a clearer voice, and the man looked up. "I didn't know!" He cried in his defense. "I been to see the ol' man." "And so I noticed," she leaned against him a bit closer and felt his hands around her body. No matter. It wouldn't go much further. "The ol' man is mine." "No, I didn't come for that, I swear!" The man was getting nervous. "I'd never... No, I just... you know... been looking out for him..." "Aha..." Lena pushed against him and felt his hand slide up her thigh. She was almost done. "I think you're lying." She pushed his hand down again. "I want no competition." "No, am not!" The man shook his head vigorously. "Look here - see this?" He produced a scroll, unrolling it under her nose. "That one was his... was supposed to drop it off into one of the fishing barrels... will do it later, it'll keep... I promise I ain't no competition for you!" Lena smiled and he dropped the scroll, returning his hands to her body. "I'll pay you full price..." His hand started wandering up her thigh again, but she pushed it down. "What barrel?" She leaned into him, breathing into his ear and nibbling it gently. "The one without the fish..." he moaned and she allowed his hand to go up. "Good boy..." She bit his neck. ... Lena had no intention of killing the dock hand. She took enough blood to see her through the following day and left him sleep in the cave. He would not remember her face anyway, he would not remember right what had happened... She took some coin from his purse, undid his trousers, the illusion would be complete. She picked up the scroll and read it. It made no sense, just random words jumbled together, it must have been in code. She tried this and that, but could not figure it out. One word stood out however: Applewatch. She knew it was a Black Hand safehouse near Bruma, Lucien had told her about that. They were planning an ambush, he was in mortal danger. Yet Lena could not leave her post, she could not warn him, she could not come to his aid. She hesitated. Then she sneaked into the Mages Guild library and forged another scroll with all the same words but replacing Applewatch by Weatherleah, a cottage in the Imperial Reserve that she came across in her travels. She didn't think it would fool anyone, but it was worth a shot. Then she dropped the forgery into the one fishing barrel without the fish. It was almost dawn when Lena resumed her post in the bushes behind the lighthouse. She stayed there all day, and again her skin started to burn. But then, just after sunset, she heard a faint noise from the door as if someone was undoing the bolts... She quickly cast invisibility and approached. The door opened, the man in black robe looked out, saw nothing, then went outside, pulling the door shut after him. The lock clicked but Lena had already slipped inside. She could only hope that Lucien would survive that trap on his own. The basement of the lighthouse was a shrine. It was a place of madness, that much was clear. There were papers everywhere, Dark Brotherhood contracts, copied, altered. She found a journal too - the man was a Speaker. She gathered what she could and slipped out again before the man returned. She didn't think he'd return too soon anyway, she expected he'd have gone to Applewatch to see to his trap. She wanted to rush there too but her task was not yet done - the Listener had to have her report, had to see the proof, that was most important of all. "Our names have to be cleared," Lucien made a point of it earlier. "Regardless of whether I fall or not. You must go to the Listener first, no matter what happens." He had expected a trap, and was prepared to be the bait so that she could clear all their names... She took a deep breath and rode to Bravil. In Bravil she had to find a way to deliver her evidence without being seen, after all, she was still exiled for her transgressions, with a death sentence hanging over her head. If the Listener saw her, he would likely attack, and she had no illusions of not being able to stand against him. She spent the day in her house writing her report. She included a number of scrolls and a diary, but she couldn't bring it all, the Listener would have to see the room in the lighthouse for himself to judge the sheer scale of that madness. She wrote it all. Then she slipped into his house during the night and left it on the table. But would he act on that? She had to be sure, and that meant losing more time, waiting to see what would happen. The Listener didn't disappoint, and Lena saw two Brothers leaving his house with her scroll in hand. They mounted their horses and rode towards Anvil, and Lena mounted hers and sped towards Bruma, praying to Arkay that she wasn't too late.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 24 2024, 03:28 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - The Black Hand Lucien was following the man with a suspicious scroll that he received from the traitor. They were riding at full gallop across the Colovian Highlands, presumably towards Bruma. When they were passing by an unassuming cave, their horses were shot. "What?!" Lucien landed in a crouch when Shadowmere threw him off and sped away, she didn't appear to be seriously hurt. The other horse lay dead however, and its rider was fighting off the attackers. "Bandits?" Lucien wondered, trying to keep out of sight. Yet he too was attacked by another person. "Three attackers in total," Lucien noted, parrying. The fight was short, the attackers were skilled. The man with the scroll eliminated one of them - killed or severely wounded him, Lucien could not tell - but the second attacker got the better of the man, and joined his comrade against Lucien. Of the three attackers, two were wearing that particular dark leather armour, the third one wore a black robe - they had been sent by the Black Hand. "Why attack the other man if they are after me?" Lucien wondered, twisting out of the way of their lunges. Things didn't add up. The one wearing robe was casting spells too, and Lucien could not avoid those. He was weakened and felt physically sick but ignored it and lunged just as the mage was casting another spell... A bout of frost hit him right in the face but his sword was already piercing the mage's chest and Lucien brought it home by sliding it up, all the way to the neck. He fell onto the mage as the frost paralysed his body. "Baronoff's Bloody Icicle", he thought. He always found the name of that spell quite pretentious, but had to admit that it was highly effective. The paralysis didn't last long, but the frost made him sluggish for a while still, and the third assassin landed another hit, and another, before Lucien finally got him too. He rolled on the ground, he could not stand up. "Oh that is great," he swore. "And it wasn't even the main ambush, just a roadside attack... They are not taking any chances." He bandaged himself up as best he could and crawled over to each of the four men on the ground. "Two men and two women," he corrected himself, finally having had the chance to look at them properly. "Our armour and a Black Hand robe... She was a Silencer, I think... I've never met her... I wonder if she had only just been promoted..." He looked into her face - she was young, and he thought of Lena, just as young, and still only an Assassin, but more skilled and more resilient than this young Silencer that he just killed. "If we ever get through this alive," he thought, "I want no other Silencer but Wolf." He finally got to the man from Anvil that he had been chasing. He went through his pockets looking for the scroll, found it and unrolled it - the scroll was empty. "He was leading me into an ambush..." he shook his head. "But we got ambushed along the way... Fate really works in peculiar ways." Lucien killed the Brother that was still breathing and crawled into the cave from whence they came hoping that it would be clear of bandits and vermin. It was - he found several bodies inside. Stew was still simmering over the fire... The bandits never saw it coming. "Well, you were successful against the bandits but you failed your contract nonetheless," he thought of the dead Brothers and Sisters outside. Their corpses should dissuade any casual adventurers from entering. He would stay in that cave until his wounds recovered enough so he could stand. "You should take the time to heal your wounds before getting new ones, Speaker," Lena's words sounded in his head. Speaker. She still wouldn't call him by his name. "Very well, Assassin, I'll take the time," he replied to her in his mind, then fell asleep. ... Although the scroll that Lucien found was empty, he knew exactly where the ambush would be set up - at Applewatch. The Black Hand safehouse was the logical place for it, especially since Arquen was already spurring on others to unite against him. "I must confront them there," he thought. "It will distract them long enough to allow Wolf to enter the lighthouse and then bring her report to the Listener... Let us hope that I survive..." The road to Bruma had two more ambushes for Lucien, but he dealt with both of them without much trouble. "They are running out of people," he thought, looking over his attackers. "These aren't of the same caliber as the ones I met before. These are just to keep the pressure up." When he was near Applewatch, he let Shadowmere go and approached the house on foot, watching the surroundings. He saw several people in black robes enter the house, and recognised Arquen among them. They were gathering there, it seemed, the Black Hand was finally uniting against him. His chances of survival were getting slimmer and slimmer with each new person arriving. Then suddenly he saw someone exit and leave, then another person exit and search the area around Applewatch. Were they having disagreements? Or were they waiting for someone? For him, perhaps? Why did they think he'd come there at all? And then it dawned on him - the man with the empty scroll was supposed to lead him there, but they got intercepted, as if the Black Hand wasn't that united at all, as if his exile and the assassins were separate from this trap, from the traitor... Lucien didn't hurry to go in. He waited to see whether anyone else would arrive or leave, watching the sentry by the entrance. Then a middle aged man arrived and Lucien recognised Mathieu Bellamont. Was he the traitor? It was hard to believe... He was considered one of the most effective and loyal members of the Brotherhood... but stranger things were known to happen. With the arrival of Bellamont, the sentry also entered the house, it seemed the gathering was now complete. The one person missing was Lucien Lachance. "They will kill me if I go in," he reflected, wondering what to do. "How many of them are inside? Four, five, perhaps? I stand no chance." Yet something had to be done, he had to keep them there to allow Lena the time to deliver evidence and then to give the Listener the time to investigate her find. Lucien tried to estimate how much time that would need to be. "If Bellamont is indeed the traitor and he rode here from Anvil," he reasoned, "then Wolf should have delivered her evidence just about now. The Listener would then need to ride from Bravil to Anvil, search the place and ride back... Two days, all in all perhaps, if he hurries... I should give it another half a day and then go in." He settled down between the rocks with a clear view of the house and prepared to spend the last half a day of his life in quiet meditation. ... The night was about to fall when Lucien decided he could not wait any longer. People have already been going out of the house, looking around, peering down the road. They were getting impatient, and may be were about to leave, and he could not allow that. He got up, straightened his back, wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, walked over to the house without hiding and knocked on the door. There was no answer. The house was perfectly still. He opened the door and entered. What happened next was so quick that no one really understood it until all was quiet again. As Lucien entered the house and took a few steps towards the middle of the room, he got attacked from several directions. He twisted and spun, his sword extended, blood spatter covered the walls and the floor as half a dozen people in black robes were doing their dance. All was quiet - everyone stifled their cries of pain, these were no novices. Then suddenly the fighting stopped. Two people were on the floor unable to get up, three others were still standing, swords at the ready, looking around as if they lost their quarry. Blood was dripping from their robes, much of it their own. "Where is he?" One of them said in a hoarse voice. "He could not just vanish." "He could, as a matter of fact..." Another shook his head. "Vanish from view, at least. He should still be here somewhere. Mat, don't you have a spell for that?" The third person cast a spell and purple light briefly filled the room, settling on the shapes of five people and many rats. "Rats?" A woman hissed. "Who cares about the rats in the basement! That is a stupid spell!" They searched the room, but it had many corners where a person could hide, crates and furniture in the way. "Is he dead, perhaps?" One of them wondered. "He is not," another shook his head. "And we need his body as proof." Then they heard the door rattle, and one of them spun around. "There he is!!! Tried to escape, did you?!" The attack was savage. They slashed at every part of his body, no longer aiming for the heart, they were determined to make sure he didn't vanish again. Then they hoisted his body by the neck which in itself would have killed him, had he not been already dead. "And so it's done!" Arquen was triumphant. "The traitor has been slain! And here is his body as proof!" "Well, it's a body... but did you really have to slice up his face like that?" Another assassin pulled the hood off the corpse to reveal a dark-haired head mutilated beyond recognition. "She got carried away," another one grinned. "There isn't much left of his body either." He peeled off a piece of the blood-soaked robe and a good chunk of skin and tissue came off with that as well. "Bah! Every organ is mincemeat now..." "That'll keep him from coming back from the dead," Arquen laughed. "I like to be thorough. We should report to the Night Mother now." "I wonder why the Listener isn't here," one of them remarked, helping one of the wounded Brothers get up. "The Bosmer is getting soft with years," another scoffed. "It was time the Night Mother replaced him." Eventually they left, and the rats started crawling out of their holes attracted by the smell of fresh blood.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 25 2024, 09:51 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - All is not what it seems Lena was galloping towards Bruma not giving her horse any rest. She got ambushed by assassins a few times along the way, but she just sped past them without stopping - she had no time for such nonsense. Lucien was in mortal danger, and all she could do was hope and pray that she wasn't already too late. When she got close to Bruma, she let her horse go and continued to Applewatch on foot. There again she got ambushed, she knocked out the assassin without killing him, he was just a young recruit, probably trying to prove himself with such an impossible contract. She carefully approached Applewatch and looked through the window. Three people in black robes stood in the room, looking around. Two more people were on the floor. Blood was everywhere. Was Lucien already dead? Then why were the assassins just standing around? No, they were looking for him... He must have hid away, she realised, he must be wounded... he could well be already dead. "What we need is a diversion," she thought. "They won't stop until they kill him... or someone like him, at least..." She returned to the assassin she had just knocked out, removed his armour and dressed him in a black robe that she used to carry in her pack - a simple black robe without any enchantments. She pulled a hood over his face, too. She brought him to the door, revived him and quickly pushed him inside, shutting the door again. "Forgive me, Brother," she said under her breath. ... Lena saw members of the Black Hand leave the Applewatch cottage one by one, five of them, wounded but alive. They mounted their horses and slowly rode South. Lena waited until they were well out of sight, then carefully opened the door to the cottage and peered in. A mutilated corpse was hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. It could have been Lucien, but she knew that it wasn't. Rats were nibbling on the pieces of flesh strewn around. She entered, trying not to step into too much blood. Lucien had to be there somewhere. She watched the rats and wondered where they were coming from, there seemed to be too many of them to have been allowed to infest a house. "There must be a cave underground, a basement or something like that," she thought trying to find a trapdoor. She found it, descended into the cellar, there were many rats there and a passage into a cave, but there was no blood on the floor, and she realised that Lucien wasn't there. She returned to the house and resumed her search. And then she saw it - a sliding door behind a cupboard, well hidden from view. A shaft led into a small, dark chamber, she saw blood catching the light below - that was it. She moved the cupboard and descended. Lucien was lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, pale and unconscious, still breathing but only just. It seemed he had tried to bandage some of the worst cuts, but didn't get very far. His wounds were deep, but his heart was still beating. Lena tried to stop the bleeding as best she could, then pulled him out of that chamber and out of the house. She called her horse, put Lucien across the saddle and hoped they would not get attacked. They didn't have far to go - she had a plan. ... The sewers of Bruma had many exits, and some people even claimed that they extended all the way to Chorrol. Lena wasn't sure about that last claim, but she knew of one particular exit just outside the city wall, and that was where she was leading her horse with Lucien across the saddle. They stopped behind some rocks and bushes and Lena pulled Lucien off the saddle and sat him up against the wall - she had to leave him there for a short while and she hoped he would be safe. Descending into the sewers, she prepared to clear the way. A few rats and mudcrabs were rustling in the corners, but they weren't her main concern, she needed to prepare the way to the room that she intended to use. She cast invisibility and moved silently along the corridor - she knew what to expect and it wasn't mudcrabs. She saw a person kneeling over something on the ground, the person seemed to be feeding. A vampire? No, he wasn't drinking blood, he was eating flesh... Lena attacked him from behind, she surprised him and managed to land a few hits before he got up, seemingly completely unharmed, and tried to grab her the way zombies do. His movements were sluggish but much more agile than those of zombies. Lena jumped back and shot a fireball, cursing the pain in her fingers. She vanished again, circled the creature and sliced him a few more times... This went on for a while, but finally she got him, and he moved no more. She burned his corpse, just to be sure. One down. But there would be more. The corridor led to a coven of necromancers, and these half-zombies half-men often escaped from there, or possibly even were purposefully released, it was hard to tell. Yet it was that coven that Lena intended for Lucien. She opened a door barely visible in the dark and entered. The space inside was darker than most of the sewers, with black and red candles illuminating some skulls and bones for a dramatic effect. Lena smirked at that and pushed another door - she knew her way around. "Welcome, Sister!" A cheerful Breton in a heavy black robe greeted her, then seeing who it was, his face fell. "Oh, it's you," he sounded disappointed. "What brings you here, Sister?" "I don't need cattle, I've got one of my own, so relax," Lena smiled at him. "I shall be using your Blood Room for a while." "You'll need to speak to Brother Sergius about that, you know the rules!" The Breton exclaimed defensively. "No exceptions!" "I thought we had an understanding..." Lena came close to him, baring her fangs. "No flesh-eating half-zombies outside of the coven. And what do I find as I come in?" She pressed a bloody decomposing hand against the man's chest and he jumped back in disgust. "That's your handywork!" She glared at him, throwing the hand at his feet. "That vermin will rise as zombies too! The sewers are not safe with them around!" "That was an accident, I swear!" The man was shaking slightly. "Jules forgot to lock them up! They were never supposed to get out!" "Well, I killed them now, so tell Jules to check his locks next time," Lena scowled. "Or else I'll have to mention this to the others... If we can't use the sewers, we won't have a choice." "The Blood Room is at your disposal," the man said in a small voice, backing off. "I'll tell Sergius, do not worry... Have a pleasant stay!" He turned around and almost ran to another door in the darkness, then shut it firmly behind him. "Necromancers," Lena glared after him. "But safer than vampires." She walked to another door in the darkness, opened it and looked inside. It was a typical sewer alcove dimly lit with red candles. There was a bed inside, a table, a few chairs, but also a small fountain, an alchemy station and a drain in the middle. A large table stood next to the drain with grooves running down. This was the Blood Room - bodies were drained of blood there, and necromancers were making a pretty penny selling bottled blood. It was perfect for what she was planning. Lena quickly ran back out of the sewers finding Lucien still sitting where she left him, undisturbed. Her horse was munching on milk thistle nearby. She lifted Lucien and carried him to the coven, he was heavy, she wasn't accustomed to carrying people, but she hadn't fed in days and her strength was at its peak. She brought him in and put him on the table. Thin lines of blood coloured the grooves red - he was still bleeding. She took off his robe and examined the cuts. "Not too bad," she decided. "He lost a lot of blood but if everything goes well, he should make it." She proceeded removing his bandages, they were soaked through anyway. The smell of fresh blood hit her nostrils. Yes, she hadn't fed in days... she wasn't yet famished exactly, but that smell did drive up her hunger. But no, she would control it. She could control it. She must. She bent over a deep cut that was still bleeding and licked off fresh blood. She only took what seeped out already, she covered the cut with her mouth making a seal with her lips, pressed her tongue against the flesh and licked off the blood. She licked it again and again. The taste of it was making her dizzy with the want for more, but she refrained from pulling at the wound, only taking what Lucien's heart pushed out already... Suddenly the door flung open and a tall man in a heavy black robe stood in the opening looking angry. "You can't just come in here demanding the use of the Blood Room, Sister!" He almost shouted. "You are not one of us!" Lena looked up. It was only then that the man realised what he was seeing. A vampire with a gaunt face and feverish eyes was foaming at the mouth, blood dripping off her lips, her victim unconscious on the draining table, deep cuts all over his body oozing fresh, warm blood... It was a feast, and he just barged in. "Sergius!" Lena hissed. "Care to join me for supper? You can take the bed, if you like," she glared at him, a dagger in her hand. "I'll give you a common bite." She leapt and stood nose to nose with him before he could move. "I hope you are not full of nightshade again - you know I hate that flavour!" She squeezed his neck with one hand bringing the dagger to his throat with the other. "Step this way, it only hurts the first time." She pushed him towards the bed. "You have all you need, I can see it now," Sergius hissed with difficulty. "I was wrong to intrude, Sister. Stay as long as you like!" Lena nicked his skin with her dagger and he visibly paled. She sucked at his wound and grimaced. "Nightshade!" She licked his blood off her lips and spit it out. "Come back when you are clean!" She scowled, releasing his neck. Sergius didn't need to be asked twice. He backed off and left, and Lena shut the door after him, bolting it from inside. "What..?" Lucien seemed to have regained consciousness. "Who was that?" "Our host," Lena shrugged, returning to the table. "You lost a lot of blood, Speaker," she said, her face close to his. "It's better you don't witness this..." And before he could say anything else, she bit his neck. ... It took a long time to stop the bleeding, Lucien had so many deep cuts. But a vampire could seal a wound as well as make it, it was a technique Lena practiced for years, it was that which allowed her to stop feeding at will. When the grooves on the draining table ran dry, Lena was satisfied. Lucien was still sleeping, sleep induced with Lena's bite, and she could now take the time to prepare a healing mixture for the dressings. She bandaged him up and moved him to the bed. Her hunger was stilled with all the blood she ingested, she was tired but she wasn't yet done: her next task was to brew a restorative potion for when Lucien would wake up. Vampires had long perfected ways to keep their cattle alive and well and producing blood. Besides food and rest, they were also given herbal mixtures to stimulate regeneration. Necromancers of this particular coven used a similar technique to get several batches of blood from a victim before it was drained completely and ready for their rituals. The extra blood brought coin, and no one would say no to that. Lena found all the ingredients ready and waiting on the alchemy station; she brewed enough for a day or two and finally allowed herself to rest, stretching on the rug by the bed. It had been quite a day. She wondered whether the Wrath of Sithis would still greet her in her sleep.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 25 2024, 07:54 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Evening Star, 3E437 - The resolution Lucien woke up in an unfamiliar room that looked like a sewer and smelled of blood. He tried to sit up but his abdomen was hurting too much, he took a look at his body and saw more bandages than skin. Then he remembered the Black Hand descending upon him... How he managed to cast his chameleon cloak he honestly could not recall. He moved towards the corner with a sliding wall and squeezed through the opening quickly, shutting it behind him. The assassins realised that he had escaped and started searching. A single life detection spell would give away his location, what was he thinking... but he had to try. He heard Arquen cursing the rats in the basement... their shapes must have masked his. He was safe until they found the door, he wasn't sure whether they knew of that hiding space, not everyone did. Then suddenly the fighting resumed, they thought they found him... how odd... He watched the massacre, heard their voices, then his wounds took thir toll and he passed out, right there in a pool of his own blood. Lena's sleepy head was looking at Lucien from below. "You are awake! Good," she said, getting up and shaking off the sleep. "Don't move, you'll make the wounds reopen." She touched his forehead checking for fever, then brought a cup to his lips. "Drink this. You lost a lot of blood, Speaker." She helped him sit up and he drank that bitter potion. "Where are we?" He looked around, not sure what to make of his surroundings. "How..?" "Shhhh, don't strain yourself," Lena put away the cup. "You are not out of danger yet. We'll have to stay here for a while longer. This place is safe. You should rest." The drink must have sedated him because he indeed felt tired and sleepy, and he gave in to that, putting off questions until later. Once he was asleep, Lena slipped out of the room. ... "You are looking better, Sister," Sergius greeted her when she entered the common room of the coven. "Anything you need?" He squinted with suspicion. "I came to trade," Lena smiled, opening her purse. "Food and drink for my thrall, you know we've got to feed them. Some stew, bread and wine, that sort of thing." A sigh of relief was heard around the room and soon Lena was carrying a heavy basket with provisions, her purse significantly lighter. "Don't they make a pretty penny on that too," she scoffed. "But no matter." Both she and Lucien had to eat. Returning to the Blood Room, she found Lucien waking up and trying to sit up again, this time with more success - regeneration was working, but he had a long way to go still. She busied herself with the provisions and was glad that Lucien didn't ask questions until after they ate. "I don't remember what happened," he said after Lena made him drink another cup of her bitter brew. "The Black Hand seemed to attack someone else... they left me alone... then I suppose I blacked out. What did you do?" He wrinkled his forehead trying to recall those events. "I gave them someone to fight," Lena smiled. "You slipped away but it was only a matter of time before they'd locate you. I gave them another Lucien Lachance..." She paused and grinned. "Did you notice how they like slicing up the face? Thank goodness for that." "Who was he?" Lucien looked at her with admiration. "That was some trick!" "Just one of the assassins that follow me around," she shrugged. "Dressed in a plain black robe, pushed into the room at an opportune moment... They thought you had tried to escape, they thought they got you..." "And then of course his corpse was sliced up beyond recognition," Lucien grinned. "Clever." He took another sip of his wine trying to wash away the bitter taste of the medicine. "You were successful then?" "It's Mathieu Bellamont," Lena looked up. "A distant family of my mother's... it seems all Bretons are related to one another somehow..." "But it has nothing to do with your mother!" Lucien seemed sure of that. "Family links don't mean much..." "No, but what will the Listener think of that?" Lena looked dubious. "There may be letters..." She blushed and stopped talking. "He tried to use it against you, is that it?" Lucien squinted then shook his head. What would the Listener make of that, indeed? The intrigue continued. "I have to go to Bravil and see to it," he said decisively and moved to stand up, only realising that he would not be going anywhere any time soon. "Damn it," he swore. "We'll need to stay here for a bit longer," Lena said in a small voice. "Your wounds were too deep." "Where are we?" Lucien changed the topic. "Forgive me, it is the only place that was near... and that I thought would be safe... Fort Farragut was too far, you were bleeding..." Lena looked embarrassed. "We are still in Bruma." "And this is a torture chamber of some sort," Lucien looked around. "A draining table with chains... an alchemy station... I didn't know you were into that sort of thing," he smirked looking at her with interest. "I am not, Speaker!" She exclaimed hotly. "This is a Blood Room, yes, they drain bodies of blood here... But I am not a member of this coven... I just... had a favour to call in..." She straightened up, deciding to own it. "I am a vampire. We do not see with necromancers eye to eye, but these ones have been trading in blood... We've reached an understanding. Which they recently broke. I cleaned up their zombies so that I could use this room in exchange for not informing the others of the breach of agreement... It's safer here than with the vampires, I promise." Lucien was getting a glimpse into the world he never crossed before. Of course he knew about vampires and necromancers taking over the sewers in every town, he knew of their feud and the fighting among them, but it never concerned him and he never wondered where Borba sourced the blood for Vicente... A Blood Room... There must have been many of those around, no doubt. The table with grooves, the chains, the alchemy station... it all made sense. "Forgive me, I never stopped to think what it actually meant to be a vampire..." He shook his head. "You can't just go to an inn..." He fell silent, thinking of many other things that a vampire would not be able to do, in particular when carrying a bleeding unconscious victim such as himself the day before. "I manage, most of the time..." Lena smiled. "I didn't choose it... and I don't know if there is even a cure," she added wistfully. "It's the heartbeat that I miss the most. Our hearts don't beat." She got up and busied herself with some dishes and potion bottles, and Lucien thought of those times when she did in fact have a heartbeat. He realised what it meant, then denied it - it wasn't the time, or so he told himself. ... "Are you still facing the wraith in your sleep?" Lucien asked Lena the following day. He was recovering and was able to sit up unaided. "I haven't had mine since the fight." "No, it's been quiet," Lena looked up, suddenly noticing it too. "Do you think it's been called off?" She smiled with hope. "For now, at least," Lucien nodded. "It isn't complete until the Night Mother says so. I should return to Bravil." But he couldn't stand yet, and it took several more days until he was fit enough to travel. Then they rode to Bravil together and weren't ambushed, not even once. It did bode well. In Bravil Lena went to her house and Lucien went to see the Listener privately at his home. ... "I thought you were dead!" Ungolim exclaimed in disbelief when Lucien lowered his hood. "Arquen insisted she killed you herself!" "Arquen gets carried away sometimes," Lucien grinned. "They did try... they almost killed me... but someone was watching over me at the time." Ungolim nodded. "The same someone who put a report on my desk. I saw it - what madness! And to think that it went on for years and we never suspected a thing!" "What happens now?" "I informed the Night Mother of course, your exile has been lifted, I trust you noticed?" Ungolim looked up and Lucien nodded. "But the others have not been told... Aquen still thinks she killed the traitor and Bellamont... well, he must think he pulled it off! He's been hanging around Bravil and I've been watching my back day in, day out," he sighed. "The Night Mother wanted to be informed if you returned... she knew it somehow... so I shall inform her now. Stay close. There will be a summon soon, I am certain." The summon came the following day, each member of the Black Hand receiving a note to come to the crypt. Lucien was watching the statue of the Lucky Lady, watching people carefully lift a well concealed trapdoor and disappear through it. When everyone seemed to have arrived, he went in himself. ... "The traitor is slain, Night Mother!" Arquen's voice echoed in the crypt. "Lachance is no more! Our Brotherhood can breathe easy again!" "And you are certain you got the right person?" The Night Mother's hollow voice sounded quizzical. "What proof have you got?" "What proof..?" Arquen was taken aback. "Why, the same proof that we used to impose Purification... what more proof do we need?" "And has his Sanctuary been Purified?" The Night Mother continued her questions. "Not as yet..." Arquen sounded embarrassed. "But it won't be long now! Without Lachance, they will surely fall!" "They might have done, true," Lucien stepped out of the darkness. "You were relentless." Arquen froze, then went for her sword, but Bellamont was already lunging at Lucien, as were two other people. There was a flash of black light and they collapsed to the ground. "Lachance is not the traitor," the Night Mother spoke. "I have seen the real proof. The traitor had been allowed to erode us from within for too long! This is the end, Bellamont!" A lightning bolt shot at him and he was dead. "As for you," the Night Mother turned to Arquen, her skeletal finger pointing at Arquen's chest, "your zealotry did as much damage as his treason! You closed you mind, you ignored the signs... You have no place among us!" Arquen tried to plead, but it was in vain. She too got the lightning bolt and lay dead, she and those other members who chose to follow her blindly, not bothering with proof. "Ungolim, you remain the Listener," the Night Mother's voice was calm. "You always objected... I remember. The Purification order is hereby rescinded! Whoever is still alive in the Sanctuary is reinstated in their rank, with all the rights restored. Your exile had been lifted already," she turned to Lucien. "I trust you had been informed... But what of your Silencer? Why is she not here?" "She... I haven't told her yet," Lucien said softly. "She thinks she is still but an Assassin." "Well, it is your business," the Night Mother closed the topic. "She is absolved of everything as well. I leave the rest to you, my children." She looked around the room and everyone felt her touch. After that, the apparition vanished. They stood in the crypt a little longer, stunned. Only Ungolim and Lucien knew what to expect, the others were shocked by everything they'd seen. There would have to be changes, they would need to understand how such a thing could have happened... they were all blinded by clever lies, by reputation and standing... what lessons should they learn from that? Time would tell, but for now life returned to normal. ... "It's done," Lucien stood in Lena's house. "The Night Mother has spoken. The real traitor is dead, and the zealots with him. The Purification, the exile, the assassins... all is rescinded. And you..." He took a step forward, and felt Lena's embrace around him, her tears running down his cheek. "It's over then," she breathed. "It's over." He felt a jolt in her chest, then another, she hugged him tighter and her heart started to beat. He could no longer deny to himself what that meant. ... "Come back to Cheydinhal when you are ready," Lucien finally decided to pull a blanket over them as Lena started cooling off. "I'll wait for you there. We'll all wait for you." She nodded and kissed him again, then cradled in his embrace falling asleep and not expecting to fight a wraith for a change.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 27 2024, 08:51 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Evening Star, 3E437 - A new dawn When Lena woke up in her house in Bravil, Lucien was still sleeping next to her, still holding her in his embrace. She could hardly believe what had happened, yet there he was, breathing softly into her ear, enjoying a wraith-free night, just as she had enjoyed hers. "Where do we go from here?" She thought, trying to imagine returning to the Sanctuary, seeing them all again, but in what capacity? As their Speaker's mistress? That thought made her sit up. Lucien turned over and woke up too. "Good morning," he said softly. "Did you sleep well? You look worried." "I... just need to work some things out," Lena smiled at him. "Speaker." "Speaker?" He sat up too, facing her. "After all we've been through together? And I don't just mean last night." "Yes, after all we've been through together, and because of that, perhaps..." Lena hesitated, then leaned onto him and kissed him. "I have no regrets... I wish..." She didn't know what she wished for, exactly. Her confusion was plain to see. "Alright, take your time... Assassin," Lucien stroked her hair. "I'm always here for you, remember that." Lena nodded, yet looked away. "I mean it, Wolf," Lucien said in her ear. "As your Speaker and as your friend." Did he say the right thing? He hoped so. He didn't want her to be his mistress, she was so much more than that. He wanted her to return to Cheydinhal, to take her place as his Silencer, she would answer directly to him, she would be coming to his fort, they would talk, they would finally get to know each other without the assassins and the wraiths... But how to say it all? He wasn't sure. She was less than half his age, she was too young for him... or was she? It seemed neither of them wanted that day to end, that space between the madness of the hunt for the traitor and the new, ordinary phase in their lives. They took time brewing coffee, they shared a meal and a bottle of wine after that, and they spent another night like the one before. Eventually it was time for Lucien to leave. As he hugged Lena goodbye, he had a sudden feeling that he would not see her in a very long time. He kissed her but said nothing, then he left. Lena watched him walk towards the city gates of Bravil, then returned to her house. She felt strange; her heart was still beating, she was changed yet she was still the same... Her heart would slow down and stop before long, life would return to normal... She could hardly remember what "normal" meant. She got dressed and went out, she would take a walk to clear her head. As she walked out to the shore of the Niben Bay, a strange new island attracted her attention. She was sure it wasn't there before. She cast a spell and crossed the water towards it. The island had strange plants and colourful mushrooms and a glowing gate in the middle shaped like a head with three faces... "What madness!" She thought, grinning. "Stay back!" A guard approached her. "This is a dangerous portal! Perfectly normal people go in, crazy people come out! Here's another one - watch out!" A strangely dressed Bosmer came out of the portal, looked around in bewilderement, pulled out a dagger and attacked the gaurd! It didn't take long and he lay dead. "What did I tell you?" The guard bent over the Bosmer. "It's madness! You better stay back." "But where does this lead?" Lena was looking at the portal in fascination. "Come and visit!" A voice sounded from the portal. "The Shivering Isles are beautiful this time of year!" "The Shivering Isles?" Lena looked at the guard. "Where is that?" "Beats me," he shrugged. "I'm only here to warn people, not to hold them back. You've seen what it did to this Bosmer... The choice is yours, and I'll be here in case you come out like that..." Somehow Lena was sure that she wouldn't come out like that. Nothing could possibly beat the last two or three years of her life... She went in. ... "Please sit down, I don't have all day." A balding Breton in a peculiar suit was sitting at a table in what looked like an office. Another chair was facing him across the table, and he gestured Lena to take it. She looked around, but there was really nothing more to catch her eye. A metronome on the table was measuring out time - tick tock tick tock... She sat down. "What is this place?" She asked the man. "It is an entrance to My Lord's realm, the realm of Lord Sheogorath. You may enter, if you wish." "If I wish?" Something was odd about him, besides his suit. "What was that portal?" "That portal was a door," the man answered, stifling a yawn. "You were outside, then you entered, and now you are here, amazing, truly. There is another door behind me, that one leads into the realm proper. Or you could go back the way you came." "Am I to choose?" Lena still could put her finger on what exactly was so strange. "Please do, I have other business to attend to. The anticipation is almost palpable..." "That Bosmer went crazy, he attacked the guard." "Then he was ill prepared to receive My Lord's blessing." "But what will happen to me?" Lena was finding the conversation most entertaining. "Who is to say?" "I am going in." Lena got up from her chair. "My Lord will be most pleased, I am sure," the man got up too. "And mind the Gatekeeper, he doesn't actually let anyone in... unless they are ready..." He cast a spell and vanished, and the office dissolved into a hundred butterflies at least... "Beautiful," Lena thought. The portal was still glowing behind her, she could now go in and out, it seemed, so she ventured into the realm proper... ... Lena's stay in the Shivering Isles turned out to be a long one. She felt right at home in the land where people didn't have to be "normal" and where almost everything was permitted. Prince Sheogorath was a most charming host, and Lena soon found herself embroiled into a crisis in his land... She did not mind, she welcomed something to do and a reason to delay her return to Cheydinhal and her "ordinary" life in Mundus. She was delaying it, and she was missing it at the same time. She returned to Mundus often enough, and even went to Cheydinhal once or twice, but stayed outside, only watching people going in and out. She saw Telaendril resume her weekly trips to Leyawiin, and Vicente slip out of the city at night, she went to Fort Farragut a few times but never entered. Something was keeping her back, and she couldn't say what it was. The Mages Guild still had assignments for her if she wanted them, and they were always keen to buy Welkynd stones or other rare finds, and so one day Lena found herself going through a difficult ruin near Cheydinhal. She finished the job, but just as she was leaving, she was attacked by a lich that she hadn't seen coming. The fight was brutal, she won, but only just. She was famished, too... it was strange how those things came together. When she finally stood outside, she breathed a sigh of relief... and got attacked again, this time by a bandit. "Will it never end?!" She screamed, jumping back. Three bandits were coming at her, they saw her heavy pack and wanted her loot. She dropped the pack and vanished, circled them from behind, attacked, got one down, but the other one had a heavy warhammer that hit her hard... She fell. Another hit would smash her skull into pieces... She twisted away at the last moment, jumped up, lunged at him, aiming for his heart... and missed, her dagger sliding off his iron breastplate. She sliced at his thigh instead, and he finally dropped to his knees. In the tumult the third bandit grabbed her pack and tried to run off, she saw him and sent a frost ball, he stopped, dropped her pack... the rest was easy. The sun was about to rise, she would burn before long. She checked the bandits - two dead, one still alive, the guy with the warhammer was wounded and bleeding, and she was glad that she had missed his heart. His blood stilled her hunger and she could resist the sun. She sold the Welkynd stones to the mages at the guild and brought a few other bits to Borba, but her main finds had to go to the Arcane University in the Imperial City. She didn't have a horse and she was too tired to travel. On a whim she went to Fort Farragut. Shadowmere wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Lena hoped that Lucien wasn't in. She lifted the trapdoor and took a peek, but the room appeared empty. She descended the rope ladder, a year or more since the end of Purification. She walked around the room, finding it unchanged. The Dark Guardians were pacing further in the fort, the usual distant noises filled the space, the scents of food and alchemy hung in the air. "He still comes here all the time," Lena thought. "Of course he does. Life has gone back to normal." She walked over to Lucien's bed and put her head on the pillow. The same familiar scent hit her nostrils, bitter and sweet at once. She closed her eyes. She was so very tired... The fights of the last few days caught up with her and she fell asleep. ... When Lucien entered the Sanctuary after the resolution of the traitor business, he found Ocheeva on watch. She turned to the sound of the Black Door opening, her sword drawn, her legs poised for a jump. "Ocheeva! It's over," Lucien greeted her and she relaxed. "The Purification order has been rescinded! Whom have we lost?" He spoke gravely, expecting a sobering answer. "Lucien!" Ocheeva smiled. "Good tidings at last! We... survived, somehow." She didn't seem to believe it. "We've got wounded, but last time I checked, they were still alive..." In the dormitory Lucien found most beds occupied, with several people unconscious, or nearly so. Antoinetta was changing bandages, wounded herself. "Speaker!" She looked up. "We are still holding... but for how much longer... I cannot tell." "It's over, Antoinetta." He gave her a hug, and she blushed. She was still so young... "You've survived. You persevered. Now you need to recover." She couldn't find anything to say... which must have been a first for Antoinetta, Lucien smirked to himself. She looked older than last time he saw her, their ordeal transformed her. Her eyes were no longer sparkling with mischief. "Let's hope some of it will return later on," Lucien thought. He did a round of the room, spoke to those Brothers and Sisters that were awake, then went to see Vicente and Ocheeva. He was back, and things had to be seen to. "Your primary task now is recovery," he was looking at Vicente and Ocheeva in turn. "There will be no contracts until people are back on their feet. The Listener transferred some funds... Borba should be paid with interest," he added, looking through a ledger with all the unpaid deliveries that she had made. "See to it." Ocheeva nodded. "What of Wolf?" Ocheeva thought that Lucien was avoiding the most important topic. "She is alive," he looked up. "She will be my Silencer... I haven't told her yet..." He hesitated. Vicente's expression was closed, but Ocheeva was looking concerned. "If you lose sight of her now, she will run away and not return for a very long time," she said, looking at him with significance. "You must find her." "Or allow her the freedom to run away," Vicente finally spoke. "She stood by you all this time, her loyalty is not in doubt. Perhaps she is simply not ready..." "Not ready for what?" Ocheeva shot him a glance. "Exactly." They were not going to spell it out, it was his decision. He felt however that chasing after Lena was the wrong thing to do, that it would convey the wrong message. Perhaps Vicente was right - she was not ready... and neither was he. It's been over a year since the Purification order had been rescinded, and the Sanctuary was functioning as normal again. They were receiving contracts, including high level Silencer contracts, which Lucien mostly executed himself, or occasionally passed them on to Vicente or Ocheeva. He refused to appoint another Silencer even though Lena was absent. "The Night Mother will have to decide," Ungolim shook his head. "You need a Silencer! One that is present! I understand your sentiment regarding Wolf, I do, believe me..." He looked at Lucien and smiled. "But a Speaker needs a Silencer, so you'll have to pick someone else!" But Lucien kept refusing, and when Ungolim eventually brought the matter before the Night Mother, he was surprised at her response. "It is up to him, do not press him," she said. "She is alive... she'll be back with us some day. Lachance does not want to replace her, so be it. He is to be given the usual load of contracts, regardless of whether his Silencer is present or not." And so he was busier than usual. One evening he was returning to Fort Farragut when he noticed blood on the trapdoor. He cloaked in chameleon and entered as quietly as he could. Lena was asleep in his bed, she was wounded, a heavy pack with some ancient finds was dropped against the wall. She'd been through a ruin, but it wasn't easy... Lucien decided not to wake her up. She did not appear famished, so he bandaged her wounds, making sure again to use lavender in the dressings. She came back to his fort... but not to the Sanctuary... perhaps she wasn't ready yet. Very well, he would wait for her. He left the following morning before Lena woke up. He stopped by Borba's shop, it was time to furnish his fort for two people... his old cot was no longer good enough. Borba nodded, copying over the list into her ledger. The Speaker's quarters deserved some comfort, she thought. ... It'd been another year or more before Lena came to Fort Farragut again. She was being chased by beasts and men both, she was hungry, yet stayed out in the sun, her skin was burning, she was losing blood... She shook off her pursuers and slipped through the familiar trapdoor... She found the room transformed. Better furniture, more comfort, a double bed instead of a cot... Was Lucien receiving visitors? And why shouldn't he? Perhaps now, that the Purification business was well in the past, he could finally relax? Lena walked around the room. The furnishings were different but the essence remained the same. The same scents of food and poisons hung in the air. The same stock of frost salts and potions stood by the stone bath. Perhaps there were more bandages... but otherwise all remained the same. She breathed a sigh of relief - there was no scent of a woman. This time Lena made use of the dressings and bandages before getting into bed. She was still famished, but she had to rest first, besides it was daytime. She hoped to leave before Lucien returned. ... In the following years Lena kept coming to Lucien's fort every now and then. Sometimes she was wounded and needed a place to hide from the sun, other times she was merely in the area and briefly entered and left. Once or twice she saw Shadowmere there, the saddle covered in blood, and Lucien was inside, collapsed from his wounds. She would bandage him up and leave before he woke. It was a dance they did, both knowing when the other had been there, yet never meeting face to face. Five or six years later Lena finally learned that vampirism could be cured. She did all that was needed, and it wasn't a simple task. Then she got the potion. "It will make you mortal again," the witch told her. "Be careful not to die." Lena had such high hopes for this... She would have her life back, she would no longer be shunned, she could regain her place in the world... she would have a heartbeat again! She drank the potion. The transformation was brutal and she passed out. When she finally woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she did have a heartbeat. The potion worked! She was mortal again, she did not crave blood! She ran to the mirror to check that her eyes regained their colour... She froze. An old woman was looking back at her. Her eyes were amber... but everything else was appauling. Her stooped posture, her wrinkled, droopy skin, her hair matted and hanging in patches, her joints swallen, her collar bones and ribs protruding like on a skeleton... Her face was still gaunt and her skin looked grey. Her heart fell. The witch never mentioned the price of mortality. After the transformation Lena didn't go to Fort Farragut for many years. She could not stand the thought of Lucien seeing her like that. But she missed him, and after a time she decided to visit. He wasn't there, but the room was unchanged, she breathed in his scent once again, left a potion on the table and vanished. As appauling as she found the look and feel of her mortal body, she got used to it after a time. The swallen joints didn't hurt all that much, and people in the Shivering Isles long got used to the way she looked. People in Mundus however still shunned her, often taking her for a beggar and chasing her away. The glory of the Champion of Cyrodiil proved very short lived indeed. One day she got into a fight near Cheydinhal, someone decided to be forceful in chasing away an old woman. She resisted and killed them in the end, but not before getting deep cuts all over her body. She went to Fort Farragut thinking to take an ice bath. She entered and found the room empty, Lucien wasn't there. She sighed a sigh of relief and filled the bath, removed her bloody clothes and submerged. She closed her eyes and allowed the cold to stop the bleeding, not worrying about her heart stopping again. On that occasion Lucien was at home. He had cast chameleon when he heard the trapdoor, and when Lena entered, he realised that she hadn't seen him. Not a vampire any longer, she could not smell him if he stayed back. He decided to stay hidden. It wasn't the first time that he'd seen Lena after her transformation. He knew that it aged her, and he did not care, but he wasn't prepared for the full extent of the damage. When Lena undressed, he was shocked. She looked like a skeleton, not like a woman, and she was only in her thirties. He understood why she was staying away. She went to sleep in his bed when her wounds were no longer bleeding. He bandaged her up. She had a heartbeat, but her body was cold after the bath. He stayed with her as she slept and saw her leave in the morning, but never revealed that he was there. She knew it of course, but said nothing. The dance continued.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 27 2024, 11:26 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Midyear, 4E1 - 4E7 - A feast to remember People were still celebrating the end of the Oblivion Crisis, nearly a year later. Skingrad went all out on wine, with production tripling almost overnight. No one knew how they did it exactly, and no one was asking any questions. The wine was flying off the shelves as it was. Lena was spending a lot of time in the area, partly because of the long established vampire covens that weren't entirely hostile, and mostly because of the wine. A drunk vampire is one that doesn't bite necks, was the saying, and so she was welcome at the Two Sisters Lodge as long as she was drinking. People soon got used to seeing her around and stopped worrying for their necks too much. It worked well, Lena thought. A drunk vampire may pass out in a ditch the same as every other drunkard, but when the stupor lifted, the vampire would still have to feed, and a drunk mortal in the same ditch made for a passable donor, even if the vampire passed out again after that. One night Lena woke up in a back alley of Skingrad, her head spinning with drink, her skin burning from sleeping under the sun. She looked around for someone to feed on and saw a fellow nearby, equally passed out with drink. She crawled over to him, not risking getting up, and found his neck. The fellow wore a peculiar hat with horns, she smirked at that and sank her fangs into his flesh, finding the vein. His blood had an interesting taste, and she wondered what he'd been drinking. She fed enough to keep her going, he would not notice a thing. She let go of his neck and sat up. Her head was clear, the effects of the wine had all but vanished, and she was surprised at that. "Did you enjoy my blood?" The fellow sat up, grinning at her. "You may take more if you like, I've got plenty." It was only now that Lena could see him for what he was, and he was a dremora. She jumped up. "Don't be scared, I don't bite," he laughed. "Even though they call me Sanguine." "Sanguine? As in - the Daedric Prince?" Lena rubbed her eyes. "At your service," he bowed, still sitting on the ground. It looked funny and Lena laughed. "Here for the wine, of course." "I am Wolf," Lena introduced herself. "Here for the wine as well." "Very well, Lena Wolf, why don't we get something to drink? I do hope Two Sisters are already open." They got up and went to the lodge, and it was only later that Lena realised that she hadn't told Sanguine her first name. Their feast went on for days. Whenever Lena was about to pass out, Sanguine's blood sobered her up again. She never took much, she just took enough to keep going. Sanguine didn't seem to get really drunk regardless of how many bottles of wine he poured down his throat. It wasn't all that surprising - he was after all a Daedric Prince. "Will you be staying another week?" The publican marked up her ledger when Sanguine dropped a hefty purse on the counter. "Room and board again?" He nodded and she smiled, putting away the money. This customer was paying in full, and then some. She could not care less whether he had horns or not. "Can we have dinner in the room?" Sanguine leaned over the counter and spoke in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "With just a few bottles of wine, not too much. Food for two." The publican nodded, taking his order. Sanguine turned to Lena who was toasting some newcomers. "Put down your goblet and come with me, don't drink!" He said with urgency into her ear. She startled, but did as he asked. Sanguine led her to his room on the upper floor of the building. It was a nice suite with a dining table, some shelves and knicknacks, serving people who valued privacy, she thought. "Vampire hunters," Sanguine said after he closed the door behind them. "Those newcomers... I've seen the way they looked at you. I'd rather you stayed alive." "I'll lead them out into one of the covens, they could use some fresh cattle," she said darkly. "Skingrad is the safest place for mortals, no one feeds in the streets here! All covens have thralls..." "I beg to differ, you did bite my neck," Sanguine grinned. "There's always an odd vampire in every city, and Skingrad is no exception." At that point there was a knock on the door and a maid brought in their dinner. "You need food as well as blood, so tuck in," Sanguine gestured Lena towards the table, sitting down himself as well. "I ordered dinner for two and I see the innkeeper knows what this means for a dremora," he grinned with satisfaction, lifting the lids of the many pots and dishes completely covering the table, and some even stacked on top of each other. "Roast or stew? Where do you want to begin?" The aromas of those delicious dishes reminded Lena just how hungry she was in fact, hungry for food this time. She'd been drinking too much and forgot that she needed to eat too... After dinner she could scarcely keep her eyes open. She wasn't drunk, but sleep was another need that she'd been neglecting, and it was now catching up with her as well. She fell into bed and was asleep within minutes. Sanguine smiled, watching her sleep. ... When Lena woke up the next day, she saw Sanguine next to her engrossed in reading the paper. "Listen to this," he laughed. "They finally caught the Grey Fox! He is apparently Hieronymus Lex's mother!" "He... is a mother?" Lena thought she misheard, perhaps she wasn't quite awake yet. "The Black Horse Courier has the best stories!" Sanguine laughed again, putting away the paper. "You are looking better today," he looked her over. "Just a helping of blood and you'll be ready to take on those vampire hunters." He turned his head pointing at the exposed neck. "I can't just go on biting your neck, I'm not drunk any more," Lena shook her head. "It's not right." "What's not right?" Sanguine looked at her in mild surprise. "You need blood as much as you need food and sleep, there is no avoiding it, Molag Bal be damned. And I volunteer." "Why?" Lena squinted at him. "You are not a thrall." "A thrall!" Sanguine roared with laughter. "That's a good one! I'd like to see them try!" His laughter was infectious and Lena started laughing too. "No, I am not a thrall, but neither do I fear it as mortals do," he finally calmed down. "For one, I do have a lot of blood, and for two, you do not harm your donors... I've watched you well before I let you feed on me." "It depends," Lena looked somber now. "Sometimes I take it all... sometimes I even..." She did not finish, thinking of those few occasions when she had to make do with the blood of a corpse. "Sometimes doesn't count," Sanguine said softly. "Why are you here drinking your days away, Lena Wolf?" She looked up but didn't answer. He stroked her hair and she let him. He kissed her and she responded - the vampire hunters could wait. ... "Leave them be, you can't kill all the vermin," Sanguine was caressing her as she rested her head on his chest, exhausted, her heart beating fast. "I know vampires - you are not all the same, but those hunters make no distinction." "They see us as monsters or beasts..." Lena sighed. "And many of us are just that... many, but not all. I didn't choose it... I still want a life, somehow." "And that is why I let you feed," he kissed her hair. "Come on, you need it. I won't even notice. I like it, in fact..." He turned his head again, his vein was throbbing... Lena gave in and bit his neck. ... In the years that followed Lena met Sanguine on many occasions, and sometimes he took her to one of his islands for a bit of peace and quiet. It was always early evening there, but the sun never burned her skin, there were no vampire hunters, no bandits, no rats of any kind... She so enjoyed his islands. Sanguine was exceptionally easy to be with. "I don't see why they call you the Prince of Excess," she said once. "I see no excess, just pleasure... of more than one kind." "That is excess to some," he smirked. "I don't believe in celibacy or restraint, as long as it brings pleasure... I do not ration my drink or my love, I have no morals... I never bothered with that. Are you enjoying my company? That is all that matters." "I am not complaining," Lena smiled, allowing the rays of a setting sun tickle her skin. "Do you have subjects? Since you are a Prince... I've ever only seen you alone." Sanguine snapped his fingers and a dremora warrior apeared. "My Lord," he said and bowed. "This is one of the warriors that answer to the call of the Sanguine Rose," Sanguine turned to Lena. "Yes, I have subjects, dremoras all. How many of you answer to me?" He looked at the warrior who shrugged. "We don't bother with count. There are several clans. But you won't find them slaughtering mortals akin those that recently invaded your world." The dremora warrior snorted, Sanguine waved his hand and the warrior vanished. "So, not all dremoras are the same... a bit like vampires," Lena smiled. "Dremora is just a species," Sanguine shrugged. "Are all humans the same?" "I hope to meet one of your dremoras some day," Lena looked at him with mischief. "How do I get hold of that Sanguine Rose? It sounds useful." "You've got to queue up, then do a task," Sanguine looked stern. "It's a Daedric Artefact, don't you know! You mortals are supposed to work for that!" Lena burst out laughing, and Sanguine joined her. "You don't believe me, do you? And yet it is true. There are rules... We can't just flood Mundus with overpowered weapons and such... If one can call it that... Ever seen Sheogorath's staff? If that is a weapon, then I'm a bunny, for sure." Picturing Sanguine as a bunny prompted another explosion of laughter, but eventually Lena calmed down and made a mental note to visit Sanguine's shrine in Cyrodiil and see about getting the Sanguine Rose. Somehow she didn't think that the associated task would be too hard. ... When Lena got the cure for vampirism and her body turned into that of an old woman, she fell in despair. The Demented in the Shivering Isles all agreed it was the right response, the Manics all disagreed and tried to cheer her up with greenmote and felldew, but nothing worked. Lena could not get over her loss - the loss of her form, it seemed superficial but it hurt so badly, she did not know what to do with herself. She stood at the top of the falls on the Eastern side of New Sheoth and jumped off. She did not expect to survive. ... "Suicide is forbidden here by the decree of Prince Sheogorath," she heard a Mazken guard saying. "I shall have to arrest you, mortal." "Don't be silly - she isn't dead," another familiar voice intervened. "Only soaked, and that isn't against the rules." Lena opened her eyes. Sanguine. "Not dead. I see." The guard squinted. "Attempts of suicide are forbidden too. We don't arrest dead bodies." "She didn't mean that, did you, Wolf?" Sanguine sat her up. "Tell her you didn't mean it." Lena looked up. The guard was watching her, her sword drawn. "I didn't mean it, I am sorry," Lena said in a small voice. "I was just going for a swim..." "Hmm... Well, be more careful next time, mortal," the guard sheathed her sword, satisfied, then walked away. "What are you doing here?" Lena hugged Sanguine, glad that he saved her life after all. "I'm here for felldew myself," he winked. "Came to see what a mortal Lord Sheogorath did with this realm. I see the guards still treat you like any other mortal, even though you are supposed to rule over them, at least for now." "The title of Lord Sheogorath is not the same as that of Prince Sheogorath," Lena sighed. "I get all the duties and no fun..." "We'll need to change that," Sanguine shook his head. "Sheogorath is known for throwing the best parties ever... it must be one of the duties, I'm certain. Why don't you see to that?" Lena nodded, it was a good plan... but it didn't distract her from the sense of loss of her body that drove her to the top of that waterfall in the first place. Sanguine seemed to have noticed it, he snapped his fingers and whisked her away to one of his islands. ... "What did you do?" Lena looked at her hands and saw young, soft skin and slender fingers instead of a near skeletal hand of her new mortal body. "Will this last?" "No, it won't, I'm afraid, it's just an illusion," Sanguine sighed. "It was important to you, but not to me. Yes, I preferred the way you looked before, but I'll get used to the way you look now, as long as you stay you..." He took her in his embrace and kissed her, and a few minutes later the illusion dissolved, but Sanguine did not release his embrace. "It is more than just looks," Lena started sobbing. "It doesn't feel the same... I lost agility, strength, even magic... it's useless..." "But I still love you the same," Sanguine didn't give up. "Like all those other people who care for you as well." "What other people?" Lena kept sobbing. "Those others with whom you've been through hell and back," he reminded her. "I know there are some." He might have said the wrong thing because Lena's sobs got worse, or may be he said what she really needed to hear. Those others... she'd been staying away, but perhaps she should just... oh no, that still hurt too much... she wasn't ready yet.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 28 2024, 06:44 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Frost Fall, 4E7 - For want of a man "I hear Mazken come as men as well as women," Lena glared at the Commander of the Mazken guard at the palace in New Sheoth. "So why do we not have any men here, among the guard?" "Men are inferior to women, My Lord," the Commander replied with a thinly masked disdain. Although it was the decree of Prince Sheogorath that a mortal should take his place for a time, the Mazken didn't have to like it, they just had to obey. "Mazken men are shorter and weaker than women, they are our servants, no more." "As you are my servant," Lena pointed out and the Commander straightened her back. "Yes, M'Lord." "Mazken men were created by Prince Sheogorath, the same as Mazken women," Lena continued. "Are you suggesting his creations are imperfect?" "Never, M'Lord!" "Good," Lena smiled and Haskill grinned behind the Commander's back. This mortal Lord Sheogorath decidedly had the spark. "I wish to see men among the guards of this palace. Ask them, let's see who responds. I want true volunteers. Go to it." The Commander clicked her heels, rolled her eyes and left. "What does Your Lordship intend to do with the men, assuming any of them respond?" Haskill took out his notepad, ready to take Lena's order. "What sort of duties should we assign them? They are weaker than women, just as the Commander had said." "That will depend on how many respond," Lena mused. "If any. I don't have high hopes..." "Do you wish to request Aureal men as well?" Haskill raised his quill again. "No, not them," Lena shook her head vehemently. "They are worse than the women." She didn't clarify how they were worse, and Haskill didn't ask. The next day the Mazken Commander entered the throne room with one other guard walking right behind her - a male Mazken. She marched him up to Lena's throne and took a step to the side. "M'Lord, this is the Mazken male who answered your call. His name is Dylan. What duties do you wish to assign him?" The Commander said with a certain glee. "Just the one?" Lena looked mildly disappointed. "You ordered not to press," the Commander nodded. "All the others preferred to continue serving the Mazken Order." "Alright," Lena stood up and walked over to Dylan. He was taller than she, although shorter than the Mazken women in the room. He wore Mazken armour of dark metal that left his chest exposed, with a neckguard and pauldrons accentuating his physique. It was a most appealing design, Lena found. He was armed with a mace and a bow, the same as the guards. "What made you answer my call, Dylan?" She asked. "We've never had a call like that," he answered in a guttural and slightly hoarse voice. "I am here to serve, My Lord." "Curiosity then," Lena smiled. "Very well. We shall assign you to my quarters. OUTSIDE of my quarters!" She added with emphasis. "Together with one of the usual guards. There's always a pair, you be one of them." The Commander, Dylan and Haskill all nodded, and the Mazken left. "Will there be anything else, M'Lord?" Haskill was laughing inside, Lena could tell. "What - do you think the women will be jealous?" She grinned. "The post outside your quarters is the most prestigious one," Haskill replied, no longer suppressing his grin. "I daresay they'll be jealous! Especially if you call him inside... It's not for nothing that they are known as Dark Seducers." "Yes, well, I can see why Prince Sheogorath wanted only women here, but I am not he." "Evidently!" Haskill coughed, his suppressed laughter finally getting the better of him. "And you banished the Aureals from your quarters... Lord Sheogorath should not be taking sides." "Well, this one does," Lena grimaced. "The Aureals annoy me." "Will there be anything else?" "Not today," Lena got up from the throne. "I should get acquainted with the one man in the whole of Mazken Order." She walked to her quarters and found Dylan already at his post outside her door. She went in and put on her armour, the same iron breastplate and leather greaves with soft boots that she'd always worn. This set was better quality than before, but she refused anything heavy or bulky. "Come with me," she gestured to Dylan when she was ready. "Let's take a walk through the Realm." "My Lord, would you be needing protection?" The other guard called after her, ready to follow. "I shall summon you if we get overwhelmed," Lena waved and she and Dylan left the palace. It was not unusual for Lena to walk the roads of the Shivering Isles, there was always something to do, and she liked to get away from the palace. "Our Lord is looking out for us!" People would say when she took yet another errand for them. They were her people, she felt responsible for their lives, at least to a degree. No one knew how long Prince Sheogorath would be staying away, some said a year, other thought a generation, yet others predicted a century... As it was, five years had passed since Lena got her title, and there was no sign of the Prince returning as yet. "We are just going to the Knotty Bramble to get some aquanostrum for Bernice," Lena turned to Dylan when they left New Sheoth. "It's just grummites this time, but they do get quite protective of their young down there," she explained. "If you wanted a bodyguard, why did you ask for a man, M'Lord?" Dylan ventured a question. "Our women are far superior." "And far more annoying," Lena grimaced. "I didn't want a bodyguard, I can usually manage by myself. I wanted a travel companion." "I don't think I understand, M'Lord..." "It's Wolf," Lena stopped to look at him. "I know you have to M'Lord me when we are at the palace, but when we are alone, please drop it. Just call me Wolf. As for the rest of it... you'll figure it out as we go." Dylan gave her a look of incomprehension, but then nodded and smiled. This was one strange Lord Sheogorath... as only Lord Sheogorath could be! Were all mortals like that? It was the first one he was seeing up close... A woman, but nothing like the commanding Mazken women he was serving before... He wondered where it would lead, and was eager to follow. Knotty Bramble presented the usual challenge that was not to be taken lightly. "They are just grummites!" Dylan thought, but soon learned that grummites had ranks, they had scouts, warriors, mages, deathdealers and outright savage protectors, their weapons were sharp and their poisons rather debilitating... It wasn't a walk in the park. But eventually he and Lena got some aquanostrum, as well as a bag full of grummite eggs. They went to a nearby camp to roast the eggs and rest up. "What does this water do?" Dylan was sniffing the aquanostrum. "Seems like regular water to me." "With some grummite droppings, yes," Lena grinned. "But Sickly Bernice believes it is saving her life, one sip a day. And so I fetch it for her when it runs out." "What is wrong with Sickly Bernice?" "Absolutely nothing," Lena turned over the eggs. "But she thinks she is terminally ill. Well, we all are in a way, we all have to die some day... We, mortals, that is." She looked up at Dylan but he was still confused. "So why are you going to all this trouble to bring her the cure that does nothing at all?" "I didn't say it did nothing," Lena objected. "It makes Bernice happy. It makes her enjoy her life, in her own way. It makes her feel like somebody cares... It's important. It's worth braving the grummites from time to time." She fished the eggs out of the fire and sliced them open. "Here, have a roasted egg," she handed one to Dylan. "It's food, if you can believe it. It's what people here eat... And now that you're stuck in the Realm with me, you need to eat as well." "Stuck in the Realm..." Dylan repeated, cautiously biting off a small chunk of the egg. "You won't banish me then? How am I to recover my health?" "You eat and sleep, like mortals," she smiled. "I could not banish you even if I wanted. I don't have the power. I guess the women didn't tell you that." "They didn't," Dylan took another bite of the egg. "But... well, never mind," he smiled. "I'll figure it out somehow. Eat and sleep... what a notion..." The night was clear and the stars shone in all their splendour. Lena stretched out on a bedroll and prepared to go to sleep. "You know how to sleep, right?" She suddenly looked up at Dylan who was watching the stars. "You lie down and close your eyes... Your tiredness should do the rest." "Yeah, I know how to sleep," he smiled. "Although it's true that I rarely had to. You sleep. I think I feel better already because someone seems to care for me..." ... Their travels took them all over the Shivering Isles. Dylan regarded Mania with mistrust at first, but soon realised that apart from the bright colours, it was no different from Dementia. He met many people inhabiting the Isles, and found them all to be different... much more different from each other than the Mazken between themselves. "Mortals don't make sense," he would watch them in fascination. "This one likes peace and quiet, yet this one runs around all day... That one likes wine, yet that other one declares it the ultimate evil... What is true, then?" He would shake his head. "It is matter of taste, of perception," Lena would smile. "Mortals are all different... That's what they have in common. That, and the fact the we all have to die one day, of course." As months went by, Dylan started getting used to mortals and their strange ways. They were a part of His Lord's Realm, as much as the trees and the grummites that His Lord had created, as much as the Mazken themselves, in fact. He was still trying to figure out why Lena requested a male to travel the land with her, as so far he could not see any particular reason. "A Mazken woman would have been a lot more effective," he kept thinking whenever he got a serious wound. "A woman, with her superior strength would have blocked that attack..." But there again, as time went on, his skills improved and he learned to block and parry a lot better. Not being able to regenerate through banishing into Oblivion also played a part. He had to be careful not to get hurt too much. One day instead of staying at a campsite, Lena decided to stay at an inn. They entered the room, it had one double bed. Dylan thought that perhaps this was the reason why Lena had requested a male. "Are we to share a bed?" He asked in his guttural voice, removing his armour. "I am here to serve." Lena was half way removing her own breastplate, and only turned around a few moments later. She'd never seen Dylan so completely devoid of his armour. "I don't want you to serve," she shook her head. "But you asked for a male..." Dylan was confused. "I wish to give you pleasure. Am I not to your taste?" "You are, that's not it," Lena came close to him. "They say no one can refuse a Dark Seducer," she smiled. "They may be right... I am not refusing... but I am questioning your motives. I don't want to be a chore or a duty." "But that's what men are for... is it not? To serve, one way or the other." "Did your women tell you that?" Lena frowned. "And you wonder why I asked for a man? It is such arrogance that annoys me most! To serve one way or the other, indeed!" Lena was angry. She stomped around the room, clenching her fists. Dylan watched in bewilderment. Then suddenly Lena removed the rest of her armour and clothing and stood in front of him. "Look at me," she said. "Look at this withered body. No one can desire one like this, I least of all. If I want service, I can get it against honest payment, for not for a moment will I believe that you actually want to make love to me." She looked sad and angry at the same time, disheartened and powerless, not what the ruler of the land should be like. She snorted one more time and sat on the bed, looking away. "I see," Dylan said after a while. "It's not that you specifically wanted a man, it's just that you didn't want a woman... such as one of ours, at least... Are mortal women the same? You said they were all different." "Some mortal women are much the same, some are different, and most are just as annoying," Lena smiled at him through her sadness. "I've been betrayed by women a lot... far more than by men. I cannot stand the constant chatter, the gossip, the intrigue... there are exceptions, of course, but on the whole, for me a man is a safer choice. And that's why I asked for a man."
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 29 2024, 11:48 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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4th Era, years 8 - 100 - Wine and felldew With Sanguine's arrival to the Shivering Isles life at the palace turned into a never ending party. Of course, the Manics were already leading such a life, and they received Lord Sanguine with open arms. The Demented were turning up their noses at the Manics even more, but they had their own Daedric Prince to entertain - Vaermina arrived one night to the delight of the court of the new Duchess of Dementia spreading nightmares throughout the realm. But since most Demented already had their own nightmares, no one was the worse for wear and variety was always welcome. Lena divided her time between both courts but was impervious to Vaermina's nightmares - everything paled before the years of facing the Wrath of Sithis in her sleep. Sanguine was seen slipping out of the palace every now and again and spending time in Dementia among its people. As much as he liked to party, he was getting bored with the Manics, and too much felldew was giving him headaches. Bernice's Summer Wine was a welcome change, and although he generally stayed away from skooma, he played a trick or two on the local addicts. In a word, life was anything but boring under the new Lord Sheogorath. Lena rarely went to Mundus during this time. She only went there to visit Lucien's fort when her heart was aching too much. She found him there sometimes, asleep and wounded, she would bandage his wounds and leave before he woke up. Other times she would find his quarters empty, then she would spend the night, and again they would never meet with both of them awake. Sometimes, when Lucien was there, she would touch him in her sleep, but he would not press, and she'd leave again without knowing he'd been there. The loss of her form weighed heavily upon Lena. She seemed to have completely given up on herself; she trained up her body enough to avoid getting killed, but lost interest in new clothes or new skills alike. Her heart was still beating, but she was dead inside. Only Sanguine had a way of getting through to her from time to time. He simply wouldn't give up. He loved her for what she was, not for how she looked, he made her at ease with herself, and during that time she forgot how much she hated her body, relaxed and enjoyed herself. Alas, that wouldn't last, and after a time she would return to her brooding. One evening she and Dylan were making camp somewhere in the Realm, having collected something for someone... They'd done such errands so many times, that neither of them could remember which one it had been exactly. They shared a meal, then Dylan ventured a question. "You let Lord Sanguine get close to you, but no one else. Why is that? Is it because he is a dremora? Or a Daedric Prince?" "No, it's not because of either of that," Lena laughed. "Lord Sanguine and I go way back... to the time before I lost my form... to the time when I was still a woman... He... well... he makes me feel as if I am a woman still." "But you are... although your form does not reflect your essence," Dylan nodded. "What happened?" "I was a vampire, then I took the cure, and this is the result," Lena looked at her hands with disgust. "I did not know this was going to happen. I might not have taken the cure if I did." "Why did you seek the cure? Vampires are immortal..." "Their hearts don't beat," Lena's voice sounded hollow. "They have to drink blood to survive. They are shunned by everyone... I wanted my life back, I wanted to feel a heartbeat..." She sighed. "I've got a heartbeat but I am still shunned, I lost myself... I did not get back my life." She looked at him and smiled. "Lord Sanguine makes me forget it for a time." "Your form... what was it like?" "The same as this, only younger," Lena shrugged. "A lot younger... I was but seventeen when I turned." Dylan moved to sit close to her. "I've never met a woman like you... Well... I've never met any mortals before you, but since then we've met a lot of people... I am not making sense, I know," he sighed. "You have the spark inside, yet you allow your form to strangle it... Don't do that... I wish you didn't do that... I wish you'd let me close too..." "I am not separate from my form, that's the thing... The aches and pains, the weakness, the joints that don't move... It feels as derelict as it looks," she smirked. "I cannot ignore it... It does define what I can do with my life." "Then we'll have to fix it," Dylan said firmly. "The Wellspring... It's worth a try." ... "The Mazken Wellspring is not open to mortals," a guard at the Pinnacle Rock barred the way when Lena and Dylan approached. "Without this mortal we would not be here," Dylan reminded her. "Not until Prince Sheogorath's return. And even then... remember the way it was in the past? Only some of us got resurrected. For all you know, you could have been dead, forever." "That... is a good point," the guard looked uncertain. "Proceed, but on your head be it, Kiskengo." She stepped aside and they entered. "What did she call you?" Lena asked in surprise. "Kiskengo - it's the lowest rank in the Mazken Order," Dylan shrugged. "Mind you, I think it's her rank as well." They walked through the corridors and reached the Mazken Wellspring. Dark waters were running down a fountain and gathering in a pool. "Go bathe in it," Dylan told Lena. "Don't come out until it's done. You'll know when that is." She undressed and stepped under the running water. She felt as if layers of skin and flesh were being peeled off of her, it was excruciatingly painful but at the same time she felt reborn... Birth was a painful affair, after all. She wanted to jump out just to stop the pain, but remembered Dylan's warning. If he had told her it would be hurting that much, she might not have done it... She was glad he didn't tell her. Gradually the pain let up. She opened her eyes and looked at her hands, at her legs and feet... They looked young. The joints were no longer swallen. She moved to the edge and jumped out of the pool, and didn't wince in pain on impact. She twirled and her body responded, her hips and her spine twisting with her. She looked at Dylan, he was smiling. "It worked, you look young," he said. "How do you feel?" "Like may be now I'll have my life back..." ... The weeks and months that followed were all in a haze. Celebrations of Lena's recovery were held throughout the Realm. She drank more wine and consumed more felldew than she'd ever done, without thinking of consequences, she felt light, she felt on top of the world. Even Sanguine thought she was going to excess... but no one dared restrain Lord Sheogorath. "You are closest to her, you must stop her," the Mazken Commander spoke to Dylan one day. "She asked for a male, you responded, and now it is your duty to save her from herself. This Realm needs Lord Sheogorath who is not drunk or high on felldew." "I am but a guard," Dylan objected. "She won't listen to me." "Go to it, Kiskengo, I shall hear no objections." She glared at him and left. What was he to do? ... "My Lord, if I could have a word?" Dylan approached Sanguine at Bernice's Taphouse. "Dylan, is it?" Sanguine squinted at him. He was drinking alone, something was weighing on his mind. "Sit down. Let's hear it." "It is about Wolf, err, Lord Sheogorath," Dylan spoke in a low voice and Bernice edged a bit closer to them. "She needs to sober up." "Aye, that she does," Sanguine nodded. "That's easily done. What comes next will be the real challenge." "What comes next?" Dylan looked perplexed. Sanguine watched Bernice serve them another bottle of wine and didn't speak until she was more or less out of earshot. "Why do you think she makes for such a befitting Lord Sheogorath? How is it that she seems to belong to both halves of this land?" He squinted at Dylan. "She broods with the Demented and revels with the Manics, sometimes within the space of a day... but never at the same time, exactly like the Prince himself." "She has his blessing, that is clear," Dylan nodded. "She went from loathing herself to being reborn, she will swing back as soon as she stops drinking, and will keep swinging faster and harder until she hits the wall..." Sanguine took a sip of his wine. "She needs a champion to catch her, the same as did her Prince." They kept talking well into the night. Bernice tried to listen in but couldn't quite figure out what they were planning. ... Lena was flying. She felt lighter than air, she soared above the orange trees of Mania and green swamps of Dementia, she saw the sparkling blue sea around the Isles and the dazzling starry sky above them. She saw people below going about their business, grummites fighting gnarls and elytras, Mazken and Aureals patrolling the roads of the Realm. She was Lord Sheogorath, and this was her land. "You are a cheat," a voice spoke behind her. "You are mortal. You cannot rule this land." She turned around in flight - a wraith was raising its sword. It swung it and Lena fell down. "Cheer to Lord Sheogorath!" Someone shouted, and a bowl of felldew appeared before her eyes. "Your withdrawal begins. Don't let it." She ate the felldew and soared into the air again. "You squandered my gift," a voice spoke behind her again. It was another wraith. "I gave you immortality and you swapped it for a decrepit body!" The wraith raised its sword but Lena twisted away. "Quick, drink this!" Someone was holding a goblet. "The wraith will drown in wine and won't return!" Lena drank and the wraith vanished. The flight continued. "It won't stop until you find the traitor," another voice spoke behind her, it wasn't a wraith. She turned to look - a man in a black robe was gliding through the air with her, his hood was hiding his face. "You aren't done yet." She looked down. The land was covered in blood. "It's not blood - it's wine! Don't believe him!" She heard voices all around, people were thrusting goblets at her, all filled with wine. "Drink! Pass the time! Nothing else matters!" She took a goblet and started drinking. The man in a black robe lowered his hood and looked at her with dead eyes of a corpse. "You were too late," he said. She screamed and he vanished. Lena was flying through the air, enjoying the light breeze and the starry sky. "You are a cheat. You are mortal. You cannot rule this land." A wraith spoke behind her... ... Lena didn't know how many times the cycle repeated - ten, twenty, a hundred? Definitely more than ten... perhaps even more than a hundred... she was stuck and could not get out. Wasn't there something she needed to do? Somewhere she needed to be? She was in a haze, red mist hung in the air. The air was getting thicker, restraining her movements, pushing back, flying turned into swimming, and she was hardly making any progress at all. But was she in a hurry? No, she wasn't. She was already too late, there was no longer any point in going anywhere. She lost it all. She missed her chance. It was all gone. She was alone. She stopped. The red mist turned to dust, black dust filling the air. Black dust. Black earth. The Void opened under her feet and pulled her in. Sithis was waiting in the distance. It wasn't Sithis, it was a wraith. It threw a curse and Lena felt her heart pierced with pain. Every beat was now an agony. "You wanted a heartbeat, and you got what you asked for!" The wraith screeched. Lena felt blood rising in her throat. Each heartbeat was pushing out more blood. Lena was bleeding. Her blood was black, thick and viscous. Her heart didn't beat but the pain did not subside. She felt a tug at her soul. Black tar was rising around her, absorbing her black, viscous blood. A silver swirl appeared on the surface of the tar, it came from Lena's body and disappeared into the depths. Another, thicker swirl appeared and also drowned. Her soul was leaking into the tar. ... A blinding light permeated all. Pain beyond compare surged through Lena's body. She opened her eyes - the light was too bright to look at, yet she looked. Colours were coming into focus, she was looking straight into the sun. The sky was azure blue, getting brighter with every moment. The clouds were dazzling white, shining like diamonds. The earth was covered in grasses and flowers - gold, purple, scarlet, emerald. The waters were sparkling with silver ripples on indigo waves... Lena was flying. ... A shadow appeared in the distance. It took but a moment and a black arrow pierced Lena's heart. The sun went dark and the colours withered, the waters opened and Lena fell in. Unable to swim, she drowned. Black waters closed in. She hit rock bottom. Black lava rocks were all around, their jagged edges cutting her skin. She bled and dark, inky clouds formed around her wounds. She tried to walk but the rocks cut her feet. She fell and rolled downhill, it felt like being inside an Iron Maiden. Then someone turned on the drip. Black came in many colours. Each shade carried a particular type of pain. There were hundreds, and they kept changing. They could not be ignored as they were never the same. The pain of the soul was the worst pain in the Void. It was getting too much. Lena could not go on. "Forgive me, Speaker, I failed," she said and closed her eyes. It was all it took to die - she just had to will it. ... "Put your hands on her chest and push! Again! Harder! Again!" Sanguine was watching Lena's pupils. "She's gone into cardiac arrest! Stand clear!" Dylan jumped aside and Sanguine shot a lightning bolt at Lena's chest. "Try again! Quick!" "Are you sure this is how you revive mortals?" Dylan was doing his best but Lena's heart wasn't beating. "Yes, yes," Sanguine looked worried. "But this one is too stubborn... Knife!" He gestured for a sharp blade on the dressing table that he had insisted on having at hand. Dylan handed it to him, not sure what to expect. "NOOOOO!!!" He screamed as Sanguine cut open Lena's chest and wrapped his hand around her heart. "I am not trying to kill her, she is already dead," Sanguine shot a glance at Dylan. "But I am not giving up on her yet." He squeezed her heart rythmically a few times and Lena jerked, then breathed in sharply. He continued a little longer, and her breathing stabilised. Sanguine released her heart watching to make sure that it continued beating on its own and that Lena continued breathing, then removed his hand from her chest and cast a healing spell to close the wound. Dylan was stunned, he stood as if stricken. "That is rebirth like I have never seen before," he said in a barely audible voice. "Mortals call it resuscitation," Sanguine answered softly. "There is a small window after their heart stops beating when they can be brought back." "Will she stay alive?" Dylan watched Lena breathe fearing for it to stop any moment. "That will depend on her. She died because she no longer saw the point of dealing with the pain of living." ... "I am always here for you... Return when you are ready." A man in a black robe lowered his hood. His dark hair escaped from its tie and fell softly around his face. His brown eyes were almost black, looking at her and smiling in the corners. She breathed in his scent, bitter and sweet at once, and felt her heart starting to beat. The pain receded. She would see another day.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 31 2024, 09:04 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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4th Era, years 60 - 160 - Recovery "Pick up the pieces and start again," Lena was sitting on the bed in her chamber at the palace in New Sheoth. She was alone. Sanguine made her promise him she would not commit suicide in his absence, and besides, suicide was one of the few things forbidden on the Shivering Isles. Dylan was at his post outside her door. "Pick up the pieces..." She looked around the room. "But I can't remember where everything goes!" She smiled, recalling the words of Prince Sheogorath lamenting having to rebuild himself and his Realm after each Greymarch. "I know exactly how you feel, My Prince," she nodded. "Where everything goes..." She stretched out her hands and looked at them. They were hands. Ordinary hands without deformed swallen joints. She looked at her legs and feet - the same. It wasn't the ultimate youth that she was craving, but just a functional body, and if it also looked alright, that would be a plus. She got up and walked over to the mirror. A young woman was looking back at her, blond hair, amber eyes. She seemed to be in her twenties. "Not seventeen," Lena thought. "So for the better." She smiled and nodded, and her reflection nodded back. She opened her wardrobe and took out the only dress that was there - a black finery of Dementia, worn, stained and torn in places. The only other garment that she found was her Sheogorath Regalia, a formal dress meant for special occasions. She shook her head and put it back. Someone would have to lend her a dress. "Dylan, get me a dress," she put her head outside the door without opening it too much. "M'Lord?" Dylan turned to look at her, perplexed. "What sort of a dress?" "Any dress that isn't stained or ripped," she shrugged. "Go to the Duchess of Dementia and requisition one. She's about my size, it should fit." She shut the door. Dylan scratched his head, glared at the other guard outside Lena's door and turned to go looking for the Duchess. Being the only male among the all-female Mazken guard at the palace wasn't easy. "She will make you feel the pain of being a man," the female guard mocked him. "Fetch me that, bring me this, she'll take you shopping next. At least we don't make our men fetch dresses for us. You should have stayed with the Order." "I am still with the Order, Kiskengo," he cut her off. "And the only reason you don't make us fetch dresses for you is that all you ever wear is armour." The guard was right, however. As soon as Lena was dressed, she declared that it was time to go shopping. She made Dylan follow her into every shop of both Bliss and Crucible and bought every dress and every pair of shoes in every colour. "I need choice," she explained. "I can't be seen wearing the same thing every day, I am Lord Sheogorath!" "You've done just that for the last sixty years..." Dylan started saying, but quickly caught himself. Perhaps he shouldn't remind her of how she felt or what she looked like during that time. Finally, laden with parcels and tired, they stopped at Bernice's on their way back to the palace. "I see you are feeling better!" Sanguine laughed at the sight of a tower of parcels coming through the door with Dylan somewhere underneath. "You could have had them delivered, you know." "And deprive my faithful bodyguard of fulfilling his duties?" She laughed. "Never! However, we can have them delivered from here." She put her head through the door and called a guard walking past. "Can you take a few boxes back to the palace?" She smiled at the guard who saluted. "That's right, all of that..." It was now Dylan's turn to smirk seeing the guard getting loaded with all those parcels. "Duties should be shared," Lena grinned at Sanguine, sitting down at his table and gesturing Dylan to do the same. "It's good to have everything back to normal." Bernice's Taphouse was filling with people, it was time for dinner. Bernice had her hands full serving food and drink, and even forgot to cough at times. Smoked baliwog legs were disappearing quickly, with roasted grummite eggs to follow, Summer Wine and ale were on every table, and soon the conversation became loud enough to allow Lena to say what she wanted to say without anyone listening. "I want to thank you two for standing by me when I needed it most," she looked at Sanguine and Dylan in turn. "It could not have been easy... and I cannot promise it won't happen again," she sighed. "But my personal Greymarch is thus concluded, and there's no reason we cannot enjoy the rest of my reign as Lord Sheogorath until the Prince returns." ... In the years that followed much of Lena's time was spent walking the roads of her Realm, the same as before. She still enjoyed delving into caves and ruins to fetch one or the other trivial item for one of the citizens, and Dylan came to realise that it wasn't the items that were of importance, it was the fact that she went to all that trouble to fetch them. It was the case of Bernice's aquanostrum over and over again. The one striking difference however was how Lena conducted herself, how she treated herself, there was a sense of purpose in her step and confidence in her demeanour. She no longer regarded her body as revolting, and came to believe that removing her clothes in front of someone could be seen as a gift rather than an attempt to purge their dinner. And yet she still held everyone at bay, apart from Sanguine. It's been years and she still hadn't been to Lucien's fort, something was holding her back, but what it was, she could not figure out. One day she and Dylan were going through a difficult ruin in search of a fork of some sort, or something similarly mundane, yet important to one of the people. It had been hard going, the ruin was filled with undead. They cleared it, but found no forks, it was disappointing but not unexpected. They needed to rest, but the nearest camp was a distance away. "Let's stay here, didn't we find living quarters in this ruin?" Dylan wasn't willing to walk to the camp. "The skeletons are all put to rest for now, it'll be quiet..." They backtracked to stay the night. "Let me help you with that..." Dylan picked up Lena's breastplate as she was trying to undo the buckles. She let him. Perhaps she didn't need to worry that much... perhaps he actually really meant it... wanted it even... Was it true that no one could ever refuse a Dark Seducer? Was that musky sweet scent impossible to overcome? Or was it rather that this was Dylan, her friend of many years, who had long lost all notions of service when they were away from the palace, and who was simply there because he wanted to be with her? In which case, why was she still resisting? She stopped resisting. The Dark Seducer did not disappoint. ... During her travels in Sheogorath's Realm, Lena sometimes came across unusual statues that seemed infused with magic, yet had no effect when approached or touched. "I've heard of these, they are portals," Dylan explained. "Mostly inactive, left over from previous eras, deactivated during subsequent Greymarches... something like that," he shrugged. "There supposed to be a lot of them all over the place, even some at the palace... particularly at the palace, perhaps... Rumour has it that they become active sometimes, for a time, then go dead again." "But where do they lead?" Lena was stroking the statue in fascination. "To other worlds... Who is to say where exactly..." A few times the statues responded, taking Lena to strange distant worlds. Sometimes Dylan followed, other times he could not, but there was always a way to return, and time would have often stood still in the Realm of Sheogorath regardless of how long Lena stayed in the other worlds. "You should be careful with these portals though," Dylan tried to instill some caution into her. "Some worlds may be hostile... there may not be a way back, or you may die there... You are mortal, if you die, you die here too." But Lena was getting reckless, touching every statue she could find, daring fate... Until one day she touched a statue and found herself standing on the shore of Niben Bay, but there was no island in the middle, no way back to the Shivering Isles. She looked around, everything looked as it should be, yet her heart fell... something wasn't right...
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 31 2024, 01:01 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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4th Era, years 60 - 160 - The other Cyrodiil Lena stood on the shore of the Niben Bay but there was no island in the middle of it, no portal to the Shivering Isles. And yet this was where she came from, she touched a statue somewhere and got teleported to the shore of Niben Bay. Everything looked as it should be, yet something wasn't right, she felt it with all her being. She turned around and went to Bravil. She'd go home, then try to figure out what happened. The guard by the city gate did not greet her, at she thought it was strange, but she shrugged and went in. The guard in the city ignored her as well, as did the people in the street. She entered The Fair Deal meaning to ask Nilawen what was going on. "Welcome to the Fair Deal, stranger!" Nilawen greeted her with a smile. "You will always get a fair deal here! How can I help?" Stranger... Nilawen did not recognise her. "I just would like a newspaper..." Lena stummered. "Of course!" Nilawen put a copy of the Black Horse Courier on the counter. "They are free! Help yourself!" She beamed at Lena. Lena took the paper. It had a story about some lady in Leyawiin who was forced to hide in her house for weeks because she had bought an Everscamp staff and was now surrounded by scamps wherever she went... Fortunately for her however, a brave adventurer took over the staff and she could finally leave the house. What she had paid the adventurer wasn't disclosed, and thus had to be a very hefty sum... Lena grinned at that and searched for the date: Midyear, 4E1. She had gone back in time, but there was no reason why Nilawen should not recognise her... In fact, she looked exactly the way she used to look back then, apart from no longer being a vampire. Unsure what to make of Nilawen, Lena thanked her and went home. But someone had changed the locks on her door! Her key didn't fit! Perplexed, she decided to ask Daenlin at The Archer's Paradox - he was a neighbour, and would surely know what happened. Daenlin did not recognise Lena either, and when she asked about the owner of the house next door, he informed her with certain pride that the house belonged to none other but the Champion of Cyrodiil himself, the Hero of Kvatch and Bruma, the Saviour of their world, etcetera, etcetera. But if she was seeking an audience with the Champion, then alas, she was out of luck because he mostly resided in the Imperial City, as was befitting his rank and stature. "I see..." Lena nodded and smiled. "Thank you kindly." Was this a parallel world? She'd heard the theory from one of the lecturers at the Arcane University, but everyone thought it was just a product of his overactive imagination fuelled by brandy. But now it looked like that mage might have been right all along... She went to the Mages Guild, but also there no one knew her. Kud-Ei offered her to join the guild, said she looked gifted in magic... Lena brought up the topic of the parallel worlds, but no one heard of it there. "You are a mage already, aren't you?" Kud-Ei looked at Lena with interest. "Quite skilled as well, I can sense your magicka. We welcome mages from other lands, why don't you join us for lunch, it is always nice to discuss new ideas! What is your name, if I may ask?" "I am Lena Wolf," Lena smiled. "Welcome, Lena Wolf! So glad to make your aquaintance!" Kud-Ei beamed at her and the other mages joined in. "Where do you hail from, if you don't mind my asking?" "Cyrodiil," Lena was about to say, then bit her tongue. "Faranga," she recalled one of the worlds she had visited. "It is an island far out at sea. We are seafarers and we recently docked in Anvil, and I've been visiting your land ever since..." "Fascinating!" "Extraordinary!" "Amazing!" The reception was warm and friendly, the mages eager to talk to someone new, they discussed the theory of parallel worlds but didn't think it could be true. "There are certainly other worlds out there," was the concessus. "And there may well be portals that connect them, but to think that there's a world exactly like ours... well... the probability of that is so minute, that can be safely considered nil. No, all those worlds are different, for sure." It was a most rational and logical conclusion, except that it wasn't true... Lena went to other cities in this Cyrodiil and met with the mages at the guild halls, getting a similar reception everywhere. Nobody believed in parallel worlds, and as such nobody could help her to find a way back either. On a whim she went to Fort Farragut. She wasn't expecting Lucien to recognise her either, and she couldn't go to the Sanctuary because in that world she was not a member. She didn't know what she expected to find. Did they have the same trouble with the traitor here? Did they solve it in the same way? Had the Sanctuary been Purified and Lucien killed, perhaps? She had to know... She found the trapdoor but it was locked, she would have to go through the fort proper. When Lena reached Lucien's quarters, she found him standing there, watching her approach. A scantly clad woman was behind him on the bed. The room was lavishly furnished, it was nothing like the one in Lena's world. "Well, you show promise," Lucien said and smiled, looking her over. "An adventurer, is it? Came to seek treasures in this abandoned fort?" "I... Yes, that's right," Lena nodded. Her heart was aching. "I... did not expect to find you like this... err... did not expect to find anyone here," she struggled to find the words. "That's understandable," Lucien nodded. "But now that you found me, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave. That'd be telling, you see." He drew his sword and attacked, but Lena was faster, she vanished and jumped back, and Lucien's sword found no mark. "You wish to dance then!" He cried with excitement, casting chameleon and trying to listen for any noise that might betray her position. "He may have a different lifestyle, but he is still a Master Assassin," Lena reminded herself. She never had to fight against Lucien before, and although she knew what he was capable of, it was quite a different matter to experience it first hand. "Play to your strengths," she told herself. "We need a diversion." She summoned a clannfear and hit the woman on the bed with a frost spell, all in one movement, then she vanished again and moved. Lucien ignored the woman who was shrieking with pain, and lunged at the spot where Lena had stood, be she was no longer there. Her clannfear was chasing the woman who seemed to be an assassin herself, as she was parrying, and with success... "Let's stop this, I don't want to kill you!" Lucien said loudly and sheathed his sword. "Adventurer! Show yourself! I invite you to join our Order!" The clannfear vanished with a pop returning to Oblivion, and the woman appoached Lucien, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Let her go and come to bed," she said in a languid voice. "We don't want any new members... or are you growing tired of me?" "Not now, Rosa," he unwrapped her embrace. "She is better than you, I can tell..." He kept listening intently, following Lena through the fort as she was making her way back to the entrance. Then he jumped and caught her in an embrace, dispelling her cloak. "You are something else," he said, smiling. "Join me." "I am flattered, Mr. Lachance," Lena said, freeing her hands and wrapping them around his neck, her face close to his. She felt his breathing and inhaled his scent... "But in this world I must decline," she said in his ear, Baronoff's Bloody Icicle flying off her fingers. Lucien collapsed, paralyzed, and she made her escape. His scent wasn't the same. ... This Cyrodiil was definitely not the same as Lena's. The longer she stayed there, the more differences she discovered, and it wasn't surprising. People made different choices, leading to new events and more choices to make. It was a lonely place because everyone Lena had known, was now someone else... She focused on finding a way out instead. She came in through a portal in an ancient ruin, so it was only logical to assume that another ancient ruin had a similar portal leading her back to the Shivering Isles. The oldest ruins were Ayleid, and she made it a point to search each of them thoroughly, and indeed somewhere in the depths she found a round pedestal that looked like a step, oddly out of place... She felt magic around it but it didn't respond to touch. She took a Welkynd stone from a nearby stand and crumbled it over the step. There was a flash of light and a pop and she stood in a different ruin, complete with undead, now turning towards her... "Where am I, I wonder?" She thought, but there was no time to ponder that question if she wanted to stay alive... ... Eventually Lena found a way out of the ruin and stood on a hill in Colovian Highlands. The sea was visible in the distance, and she decided to go to Anvil. It was another parallel world. She had to start from scratch. ... Years passed. Lena had seen so many parallel worlds, so many versions of Cyrodiil just after the Oblivion Crisis - it was always year 4E1. "Breaking the Amulet of Kings was the stupidest thing Martin could do!" She would think again and again, arriving in yet another world. It was one of those cataclysmic events that aligned and linked the time lines making it possible to jump from one world to another, but also removing any means of distinguishing between them at that point in time. In other words, there was no way to tell where Lena was going. She could only hope that chance would somehow take her home... In every world she went to the Niben Bay near Bravil to see if the island with the door to the Shivering Isles was there, and in every world it was not. Why was that? Surely, the Daedric Realms must be the same everywhere? But she did not dare summon any of the Princes, Sanguine least of all, for fear of finding them changed, too... She did not know how deep the crack in time went, and had a feeling that just chasing after it would only make it deeper. No, she would find a way home through Mundus alone, no matter how long it would take. Then one day she came to the Niben Bay and saw an island in the middle of the water. Her heart gave a jolt. She did not know what year it was, although it had to be year 4E1, and if this was indeed her world, then there had to be another version of her there somewhere, and that was perhaps the most scary prospect of all. If this was her world, she was home... but she was in the wrong time. "I should go to the Shivering Isles," she decided. "Before someone sees me. I am still a vampire in this world, assuming this is the one..." It was getting too complicated, and she quickly cast a spell and walked over the water to the island. "Stay back!" The guard at the portal warned her. "This is a dangerous portal! Perfectly normal people go in, crazy people come out!" "That's alright, I know where it leads," Lena smiled and entered. She found herself in a room that looked like a dusty office of some city archive. There was a table in the middle with a metronome measuring out time, a man in a peculiar suit sat behind it, scribbling something on a scoll. The walls were covered in shelves with more scrolls and tomes than the eye could see... "Come in and sit down," the man said without looking up. He jerked his quill towards the chair opposite his on the other side of the table. "So..." He finished writing and looked up. "Hello, Haskill," Lena smiled, sitting down. "Been here long?" She took in the room and the shelves once again. "My Lord, am I glad to finally see you!" Haskill's face melted in a huge smile, and Lena reflected that the man must have been handsome once... when he still had more hair and more vigour... or just more spark, perhaps. "It's been ages!" He rolled his eyes. "The time lines got fused..." "Yeah, I noticed," Lena nodded. "The Amulet of Kings." "Quite," Haskill nodded. "But now that you are back in the Realm, I shall reset the timer..." He touched the metronome, stopping the hand, then pushed it in the opposite direction. "If you would follow me, your subjects are eager to see you..." He stood up, gesturing Lena to stand next to him, and when she approached, he took her hand and cast a spell... ... Lena and Haskill arrived in the throne room of the palace in New Sheoth. Haskill let go of Lena's hand and gave her a curtly bow, the guards straightened their backs, she looked at them and saw that they knew who she was... they recognised her... she let out a sigh of relief... "What year is it?" She turned to Haskill and he wasn't in the least surprised at her question. "Here in the Realm, the same as when you left," he checked something in his notes. "A few days later, no more," he smiled. "You will find everyone as you left them. As for Mundus... should you venture there again... it will be as you will it... provided it is later than the last time you visited there, because, you know, we don't want yet another Dragon Break." "No, we don't," Lena said firmly. "Thank you, Haskill. Keep up the good work." She went to her quarters and found Dylan at his post outside the door. She called him inside, and the other guard glared. Lena smiled - everything was as she left it, finally she was home.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Jun 1 2024, 10:06 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Hearthfire, 4E98 - A visit to Cheydinhal Lena's misadventure in parallel worlds made her weary of any further portals. It also made her realise how much she missed her own Cyrodiil, and in particular Lucien. She had not been to Mundus since she regained a youthful form at the Mazken Wellspring, but she could not delay it forever, and why would she, it was a good thing after all... wasn't it? She could not understand what made her tarry in the first place. She went to the portal in the Fringe and stepped through it. ... "Which year is it?" She wondered, approaching the city gates of Bravil. The guard did not recognise her, but it wasn't surprising as she didn't recognise him either. The stable hand was reading the paper, she asked if she could have a copy, he gave her one... It was year 4E98, almost a hundred years since her last visit... well, may be not quite... she could not recall, exactly. But it was longer than a human life... "I wonder how many people I know are still alive," she mused. "Well, the elves are of course still around... and the Orcs, Khajiit and Argonians... Some Bretons probably too, since people say we are half-mer... The Nords are human but quite long lived, some are said to live five hundred years... Who's left? Redguards and Imperials... But with all the mixing that's been going on for thousands of years, how many of them have no elven blood, in fact? People are more likely to die of disease or in battle than simply of old age, it seems..." She changed her mind and did not go to Bravil. It's been too long, and she did not feel like bumping into old friends and having to explain what she was doing for the past hundred years. She went to Cheydinhal instead, a town that didn't ask questions. ... "Good to see you!" Borba greeted her when Lena pushed the door of her shop. "It's been a while!" "Hello, Borba," Lena smiled. "Remember me, do you?" "We Orcs have long lives and good memory," Borba gave her a toothy grin as only an Orc could. "You cured your vampirism... and cleared the side effect of that cure... Good on you!" "You've heard of the side effect..." "Oh yes," Borba nodded. "I could have told you that it would happen... but then you might not have gone through with it, and may be that would be wrong... You were so young when you turned, of course... But look at me - chatting away like a schoolgirl! Was there anything you wanted, other than a chat?" "I... well... I think I just wanted a chat," Lena smiled. "Is the abandoned house still abandoned?" "It is, nothing's changed," Borba nodded. "He's been waiting for you all this time... Why don't you visit the fort," she said softly. Lena smiled and blushed slightly, bought some provisions and went to the abandoned house rather than to the fort. What was holding her back? She could not tell... The abandoned house was indeed exactly as she remembered it. It was dusty and full of cobwebs, there were some crates and barrels by the door and some clutter in the basement, it seemed that Borba might still have been using it for deliveries from time to time. The Black Door was still there too, humming softly with its eternal enchantment. Lena put her hand to it and felt a response - the door still remembered her, still welcomed her back... but Lena did not enter. She went upstairs, had a bite to eat and fell asleep on the old cot like so many years ago. ... She had a strange, slightly disturbing dream. She was a vampire again, she was famished and craving blood. She left the house and crept along the city wall keeping to the shadows. She had to have blood... there were always beggars sleeping along the wall. She found one... all was quiet and she knelt over him and fed. ... Lena woke up, slightly shaken. Surely, that must have just been a flashback, just a memory awakened by the house she was in... Nothing to worry about. She turned over and thought to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come to her any more. It was the middle of the night. Lena got up and went out, slipping through the old trapdoor into the passage under the city wall. Perhaps she should visit the fort after all... If she was lucky, Lucien would not be there, or else he'd be asleep and would not realise she ever came by. Why she still thought it important, she could not explain. She approached the fort. Shadowmere was grazing nearby, so Lucien was likely at home. Should she turn back? No, she came too far... she had to make sure that Lucien in her world was still the same as before. She pulled up the trapdoor and descended the rope ladder. She found him on the bed, sleeping. Her heart gave a jolt - the room still looked the same. The same smells hung in the air, the same sounds came from further in the fort. She came closer and knelt over him. His head was turned to the side, his neck exposed, a vein throbbing, and the scent of fresh, warm blood hit Lena's nostrils. She was famished... She bit his neck and fed. ... Lena sat up in bed with a jolt. She was still in the abandoned house. She did fall asleep again after that first dream... and now she'd had that nightmare. But it was all just a dream... just her mind playing tricks on her. The last time she slept in that bed, she was a vampire... Surely, it was just that - only flashbacks. She got up and stretched. It was dawning, a new day was about to begin. She ate what was left over from the night before, drank some water and went out. She would go to Lucien's fort. It was time. ... Lucien wasn't at home. Shadowmere was no where to be seen and his quarters were empty. The grate was cold and there was no food in the larder, it appeared he'd been away for some time. "That is entirely possible," Lena thought, since as a Speaker, Lucien traveled all over Cyrodiil, and sometimes even further afield. "Nothing to worry about." She told herself firmly. The room was the same as before, the same scents hung in the air, the same sounds came from further in the fort... The nightmare hugged Lena again and she shuddered, jerking her head towards the bed. No, Lucien was not there. "I shall go crazy like this," she told herself. "I am staying until he returns. I've got to make sure." She went to town and bought provisions, then returned to the fort, made the fire, cooked up some food. She brew potions, prepared some poisons too. Read the paper. Ate dinner. And still Lucien hadn't returned. It was getting late and Lena was tired and sleepy. She went to bed. ... Lucien returned to his fort in the early hours of the morning. It had been a long and arduous trip. He had a contract to fulfil and another to discuss, and it turned out that the discussion was a trap to kill him... It didn't work out like that, but he didn't come away unscathed either. He hoped there was at least something left in the fort as he hadn't refilled it before leaving. He lifted the trapdoor and smelled dinner - someone had been there while he was away. "Ocheeva looking out for me again," he thought and smiled to himself. Ocheeva was such a faithful friend. He descended the rope ladder... It wasn't Ocheeva. A young blond woman was sleeping in his bed. He had to look twice, but there could be no doubt - it was Lena, her youth restored to her. "So this is what she looked like before she turned," Lucien thought, peering into her face. He'd only known her as a vampire, and later, after she took the cure, he'd seen what it did to her body and understood what it did to her spirit too. And now her form was restored. "She looks in her twenties," he thought. "But how old is she? About hundred and twenty, counting in our years... Still younger than me, but those twenty five years hardly matter now... I wonder whether she'll stay this time..." He tried to keep quiet and not wake her up but he had to bandage his wounds that started bleeding again. Lena heard him and woke up. "You are bleeding!" Was the first thing she said to him after all this time. "Bath - now!" She filled the bath, then hit the water with a frost spell. "Get in." She came close and helped him out of his robe where it got stuck to the skin, removed the bandages, piling them up in a bloody heap. He watched her in fascination. She looked different but she was unchanged. She stopped for a moment, wrapped her arms around his neck, breathed in his scent, bitter and sweet at once... The same scent as always... She squeezed him in an embrace and said softly into his ear, "It's good to see you again, Speaker!" He thought it sounded is if she had lost him in between, as if he had been dead... It would take another hundred years before she'd tell him that it was exactly as he thought. ... They spent the day talking as neither of them could sleep. There was so much to tell... and yet they didn't speak of what mattered most - Lena's return. It seemed she wasn't ready yet. She left the following day going back to the Shivering Isles, still thinking that her Speaker could never be anything other than her friend. Those two nights in Bravil were so far in the past, as if in another life, and Lena started to believe that perhaps it never happened, that she dreamed it, imagined it, hallucinated it... And she got used to thinking that. Back in the Shivering Isles life was pleasant and time was passing quickly, and perhaps it was passing quicker than in Mundus, who was to say. Sanguine visited often, and every time there would be a party, with wine and felldew to excess. It was during one such party that Lena stumbled against a statue that turned to be a portal to Gransys where a dragon literally stole her heart, where she met Scorpio and gave him a piece of her soul, only to lose him again in the end. She spent so many years there... and yet just a day had passed in the Shivering Isles when Haskill touched the metronome upon her return. But what year was it in Mundus? It was whatever she willed it, as long as it was later than last time... She lost track of years, but Lucien thought it was a very long time. Regardless, he was still waiting. Next time she came to his fort, he wasn't there. She restocked his cupboards, spent the night in his bed and left before he returned. Finally, Prince Sheogorath appeared in his Realm around 4E160. Lena relinquished her title and vacated her quarters in the palace, she was glad to resume her life. She stepped through the portal to Mundus and went to Bravil... but her house had been repossessed. She'd been away for too long, and even her membership with the Mages Guild had been revoked. "You will rejoin the Arcane University in no time, we still know who you are!" Kud-Ei was trying to console her. "But the Mages Guild answers to the Elder Council, and they put bureaucracy before people... You missed the Census too many times, so they marked you as 'non-living' - not deceased since they never found your body, but also not a current resident of the Empire any more... You should go to the Imperial City and get yourself reinstated." She went to the Imperial City, but having to deal with all those forms in triplicate was just too much to bear. Perhaps she should leave... not through a portal this time, but just on a ship... There were lands beyond the horizon, stories and people arriving from there every few years. Yes, this is what she would do. She went to Cheydinhal one more time, waited for Lucien, but only entered when he was aleady asleep. She hugged him and left again. In Anvil she found the largest ship, it looked rugged and sturdy and was bound for the Northern Realms. She sold most of her possessions to raise funds for the fair, she was leaving and would not come back. The ship traversed the Great Ocean and crossed the Great Maelstrom. The journey itself took many months, or may be even years, the time itself shrunk and dilated as they went. But they survived and docked in Novigrad around the year 4E190 in terms of the calendar of Tamriel. Then, in 4E195 Lena learned that she had a brother. Another bond was forged there, only to be left behind. When the war engulfed the Northern Realms, Geralt insisted that Lena should return home. She ageed in the end. Home was where her heart was. The trip back did not take thirty years, and she was back in Tamriel around the year 4E200, now resigned to fill in all the required forms, in triplicate or quantuplicate, she no longer cared. Her citizen status was restored and she was allowed to buy back her house in Bravil and her shack on the Waterfront if she so desired... The Mages Guild received her with open arms, there were formalities to fulfil, but also there she was soon welcomed to the Arcane University, the same as before. And yet she still hadn't returned to the Dark Brotherhood. She went to Lucien's fort, waited for him to return and go to sleep. She entered quietly, spent some time near him, kissed him and left without waking him up. She was nearly ready... but not quite. Something called her to Skyrim. She went there and discovered that she was Dragonborn. The Blades were back in her life, and they were the last people she ever wanted to deal with again. It brought so many memories of the kind that she'd rather forget! But Geralt appeared in Skyrim, having made the same journey as she, and with his arrival her ties to Skyrim were forged. She was just finding her feet and raising funds to buy back her homes when she met Hauk, and they became close friends. Soon after that Lucien came to visit her during the night. The Brotherhood wanted her back. He was her Speaker, asking for her return. He offered her a promotion but she refused, she would start at the bottom again and work her way through the ranks, she only ever wanted to be an Assassin... He did not press. She was back with the Brotherhood and back in his life, and everything else would follow. Lena was back in Tamriel. For how long? Who was to say. But her life was now filled with people, and she was determined to to live it.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Jun 11 2024, 12:04 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Height, 4E204 - Just another Arisen "Looking for a fighter, are you, Arisen? Well then, I'm a fighter," a pawn in the Rift looked bored. "Anything in particular you're after? Or just someone to do your busy work?" "Both," Lena squinted. "I've seen your skill sheet... You'll do. The rest we'll find out in the first half a day." "The rest?" The pawn raised an eyebrow. "What rest?" "Whether or not you fit in the team," Lena shrugged. "Come along. You'll be back with your own Arisen in no time if it doesn't work out." Lena stepped out of the Rift with two new team members - a fighter and an archer. She was taking the bow herself and Scorpio was their mage. "Two archers and a mage," the fighter looked them over. "You definitely wanted me to do your busy work." "We'll see," Lena cut him off. "Take these and let's get going, we have a long road ahead of us." She handed them hefty potion pouches causing more raised eyebrows. "What are you planning, Arisen?" The pawns started looking worried. "Just goblins and sauriens along the way, nothing out of the ordinary," Lena shrugged. "With something bigger in between. I just don't like to lose people." The two new members exchanged glances and fell in after Lena who already took off. ... Two archers and a mage took out most foes between them, and the fighter hardly got anything to do. This Arisen liked prevention. She cleared most areas before the foes even realised what was going on. The second archer was wondering at first why they even needed him, but then they ran into a dozen or so bandits, and all became clear. A long range archer was all well and good when you could stay at long range, but combat in close quarters took a very different turn. They still won, but the fighter now had his work cut out for him. "I understand now why you need me," the archer smiled when the battle was over. "You are one crazy archer, you charge the enemy." "Only when I cannot stay back," Lena nodded. "Then I create distance between you and me, and the enemy has to run between us, where the fighter gets them in the middle." "You've done this before." "A few times." Everyone smirked. It was a highly unconventional strategy - archers were known to stay behind everyone else, even behind mages. "What was 'the rest' that you wanted to check?" The fighter caught up with Lena as they resumed their march. "Does it work out or not?" "What do you think? Does it work out?" Lena grinned. "How's the busy work for you?" "A lot less busy than I expected," the fighter grinned back. "You are used to daggers." "Bows and daggers both," Lena nodded. "But they don't allow it here. I had to adapt." "And you are protecting your mage." "Mages need protecting." "Not by archers," the fighter shook his head. "Not to this extent... Mages tend to be left behind... sacrificed..." "No." Lena shook her head so vigorously that the fighter decided to stop asking questions. They had been walking all day, they'd had more fights than they could count, so they found a quiet spot and made camp. They roasted what meat they had in their pack, but everyone was too tired to talk. Swapping stories would have to wait for another night. The following day was as arduous as the first, with another harsh day following, and when they finally reached their destination, they found the village overrun with monsters... Once again, rest was not in sight. But they prevailed, and without losing people, too. It was already dawning when they finally made camp. They had all but run out of fresh meat by then, and had to resort to cooking air dried meat instead. It was apparently as nutritious as the fresh variety, yet it didn't taste the same. Regardless, they were just too tired to pay attention. They had a long road ahead of them still, and the night was already all but over, so they agreed to set off again after just a few hours of sleep. If things went according to plan, then their following night would be spent in a real village, and possibly even in an inn. The day smiled on them, the fights were light and they arrived at their destination at dusk. The inn was all but closed, but they did have provisions, so it was another night camping under the stars, but this time without rush - they were not planning on going anywhere on the morrow. Finally, it was a night for swapping stories. Or rather, it would have been, had they not been so mortally tired. ... Lena woke up in the middle of the night. Since the camp was technically in the village, there was no need for either of them to be awake on watch. The campsite was sandy and grassy, which was rather better than rock found elsewhere. The fire had died down, but the embers were still glowing. Lena turned over a log, and sparks shot into the sky. All was peaceful, her three companions were sound asleep. "Time to wake up, Arisen," she heard a voice in her head and the empty space in her chest was pierced with searing pain. "Time to remember why you are here." "Grigori," Lena recognised the voice of the dragon. "Where are you? I'm supposed to face you..." "It's not the time yet," Grigori clicked his tongue. "You have to remember your purpose in this world..." "This isn't my world," Lena shook her head, talking to Grigori in her thoughts. She was careful not to make any noise. "You know I don't belong here..." "I disagree... You may have come from another world, but now you're one of us... One of the links in the endless chain... Here to guard this world from oblivion..." "You are confused," Lena sat up. "Planes of Oblivion belong in another realm..." "No, there is just one Void..." Grigori was talking as if from far away. "The Void, the Rift, the Fade... it's all the same... It is all oblivion... where souls and worlds dissolve into when there's no one left to remember them..." "But I was allowed to return to Tamriel..." "For a time... And now you're back... Defeat me and start another cycle or fail to start the cycle and become a dragon yourself... There is no other choice, Dragonborn." Grigori's voice fell silent. The pain stopped as suddenly as it struck, leaving a cold void where her heart should have been. The cold started spreading through her body. Dragonborn. Were dragons all the same in every realm, too? "You are growing cold again," she suddenly heard Scorpio's voice, he was adding logs to the fire, making it flare up. "Was Grigori talking to you?" Lena nodded, huddling in his embrace. "What is it with everyone wanting to talk inside my head?" She scoffed. "Not everyone... just some." Scorpio wrapped her in his coat as he'd done so many times before. She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They stayed by the fire, and gradually the cold in Lena's chest dissipated and she finally fell asleep. ... "Coffee is here," Lena heard a voice and smelled the coffee. Was she still dreaming? Or was it morning already? She half opened her eyes and peeked. It was morning. She was lying by the campfire, still wrapped in Scorpio's coat, still pressing her ear to his chest... He woke up too, lifting his head to see what was going on, not wishing to disturb her. "Mmm... coffee..." Lena stirred, trying not to land Scorpio's coat in the fire. "Thank you." Their fighter was pouring coffee... she could not remember his name. The archer was sipping from his own steaming mug, smiling. "You didn't just meet two weeks ago, did you?" He grinned. "I've heard of you... how many rounds? Twenty, thirty? No one keeps count after that... But tell me... if you don't mind... How did it start?" "How did what start?" Lena sat up, gratefully accepting the coffee. "How do you select a pawn? I've always wanted to know," the archer was still looking at her and Scorpio with interest, and perhaps a touch of envy. "How do you pick someone for the first time?" "Oh, it's simple," Lena shrugged. "The first time around you are so completely stunned by the whole affair, your heart is missing yet you are not dead, you don't understand what's going on, and you're told you've got to face a dragon - a real, gigantic fire-breathing beast, you understand! - and you're just numb... lost. Then some clerk starts asking questions... 'Male or female?' 'Short or tall?' 'Deliberate or impulsive?' I don't remember exactly!" She sipped her coffee. "Then they show you some pictures... And you're told to pick one. And there he is, summoned for you... As if you can tell from a picture what someone is really like..." "You did," the archer objected. "You chose wisely." "I... well... actually, that was Scorpio's choice." Lena smiled at the surprise written all over their fighter's and archer's faces. "It was my choice..." Scorpio looked at them and answered quite firmly. "It was my choice to try and be a friend. It took me a very long time to stop acting like a pawn. It is still the Arisen's choice to accept it, to put up with it all..." "It takes two," Lena shrugged. "Like always in life. Relationships develop from both ends." "That's just it - build a friendship, not just look for someone to do your busy work," the fighter nodded to himself. "And that is why when you face your dragon, you never face him alone."
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Jun 13 2024, 05:57 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Height, 4E204 - Travels beyond the Rift "It was an arduous and annoying journey and I am glad to be back with you," Scorpio appeared out of nowhere when Lena woke up. He had been called in for pawn duty while she slept, a practice that Lena found most disturbing. "As bad as that, was it?" She got up and hugged him. "Want a nap before we set off? We can't really have you too tired to concentrate on our own journey." "I don't need a nap, you know that," Scorpio frowned. "I'm fine." "You don't look fine," Lena shook her head. "What's with the dark rings under the eyes? When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Did that Arisen dismiss you or did you fall in battle? Or fell off a cliff? Or perhaps jumped into the water and drowned when you've had enough? Don't think I don't know all the tricks you pawns get up to..." "Well... You've been around too long, I see I can't fool you every time," Scorpio smiled. "No, I stayed till the Arisen dismissed me. Here, I brought a gift for you, too. An apple." He produced an apple from his pack. "An apple?" Lena took it from him. "What a generous gift as well..." She sighed. "Oh never mind. How many times I myself sent pawns away with something similar... You said it was annoying... want to talk about it?" "I think the sorcerer that we had with us last week, must have found walking with us annoying," Scorpio gave Lena a long look. "He clearly wanted action, but you kept him back." "I didn't, actually..." Lena was getting defensive. "Unless you mean that I charged ahead and didn't give him a chance to be the front man... But he was a mage! Without any means of attacking foes up close! Mages, like archers, are supposed to keep back..." "Supposed, but not always do," Scorpio shook his head. "Like you don't always keep back when you're an archer. I guess I just didn't fit into that team. They needed a healer, really, and although I can heal..." "You are not Rook," Lena summarised. "Very well. Do you want to switch vocation? Be a fighter again?" "Not yet," Scorpio shook his head. "What are you planning for today?" "Saurians, ogres, bandits, phantasms and a wight," Lena unrolled the map. "I want to go to the Waterfall Cavern." "Charming," Scorpio grimaced. "We need holy magic for this, I'll do it. You can't get a mage with holy magic who also..." "...doesn't try to be the front man," Lena grinned. "But the real reason that you want to stay on as a mage is that your wound reopened when you switched back to fighter last week. Don't think I didn't notice. Lie down." She opened a cupboard and started putting jars and bottles on the table. "You cannot keep healing yourself as if it is a regular wound. You need real treatment." The wound in Scorpio's side was no regular wound. Dragon blood had been injected into it, infecting him with Dragonsplague, a deadly disease that affected pawns. Lord Phaesus in Battahl had sought to capture an Arisen's soul - Lena's soul - through her pawn using a ritual known as the Transference of Souls. It involved sacrificing both the Arisen and the pawn, but Lord Phaesus wasn't squeamish. Yet he underestimated just what Lena was prepared to do for her pawn... She took another step into the depths of vampirism and turned into a higher vampire just so that she could drink all of the dragon blood from Scorpio's wound and cure his Dragonsplague. She did not die herself only thanks to Molag Bal's gift... Which Molag Bal couldn't wait to point out. It really did seem that despite all her efforts to free herself of vampirism, she only sank deeper and deeper in, towards the pure-blood form that Molag Bal was so keen to bestow upon her. That wound in Scorpio's side did not heal in the Rift like other wounds, and although it initially closed, it kept reopening from time to time, it kept hurting and kept reminding him of what had occurred. "Could it be that I failed to cut out all of the necrotic tissue in that wound?" Lena frowned as she was applying ointment on the scar which was indeed oozing dark blood in a few places, as if there was a wound under the skin. "May be I missed something? This blood does not look fresh." "May be you missed something, or may be it's just the nature of that wound," Scorpio shrugged. "Don't overthink it. What's in that salve? It smells like nightshade..." "Wolfsbane and nightshade," Lena nodded. "My brother's recipe. You're not a witcher, but you come pretty close, being a pawn," she smiled. "Let's hope your holy magic won't rip right through it." ... "Wouldn't you want to have your pawn back with you, master?" One of the pawns in Lena's party looked wistfully around him. They'd lost Scorpio in the previous fight, and there was no riftstone nearby to get him back. "The loss of our comrade will weigh heavily upon the morale." He added, looking dejected. "Isn't there a riftstone nearby?" "Yes, I want to have Scorpio back as soon as possible and no, there is no riftstone nearby, as you well know!!!" Lena spun around to face him, her face pale with frustration. "What do you think I'm searching for - rabbits?!!" The pawn backed off, nearly falling off a cliff and to his doom. "This way, master, I think there's a riftstone in that direction," the other pawn, their fighter, touched Lena's shoulder. "I think we've seen a riftstone there." He spoke as soothingly as he could, which was quite a change from his usual brash manner. Lena snorted and followed the path he indicated. The fighter leveled with the other pawn. "No one in this party feels the loss of her pawn more acutely than she does," he said quietly. "That reaction... she's got nothing against you personally, I'm sure. But she didn't need to hear what you said." "Blimey, that was unexpected," the pawn shuddered. "I met enough masters who would just abandon their pawn..." "Well, she isn't like that," the fighter interrupted. "I know what you mean, but you're new here... You'll understand in time." "You think she isn't going to dismiss me at that riftstone?" The pawn sounded surprised. "Nah, not for a few misspoken words," the fighter shook his head. "She's got a temper like a fury, but it doesn't last... Ouch - watch out!!" Their conversation was interrupted by a pack of goblins who just ran into a fury... Not bothering with her bow, Lena simply kicked them into the ground. "What?" She turned to her pawns who didn't even get a chance to draw their weapons. "I was too close to them to bother with the bow. And since I'm not allowed to carry daggers... What else was I supposed to do?" She grinned. "Glad to see you're feeling better," the fighter grinned back. "The riftstone is just up ahead." ... "At last I'm reunited with you!" Scorpio appeared when Lena touched the riftstone. "It's been ages!" "There was no riftstone nearby," Lena hugged him. "You fell off a cliff and I couldn't get to you in time... Do you even remember what happened?" "Of course I remember," he nodded. "I even remember falling... Sorry about that." ... "To this world I return," Scorpio appeared out of no where when Lena woke up. "It's been... well... it's been another journey. Nothing special." He took a step forward and stumbled. Lena jumped up. "What, they are calling upon you even when we're camping?!" She exclaimed angrily. "I thought it was only when we stayed at an inn!" "Ahhh, that explains why we hardly ever stay at an inn!" The fighter laughed. "And here I was, thinking that this Arisen simply enjoyed camping..." "They can call upon us any time," Scorpio nodded. "There's a trick they do, and it appears to you that it happens while you sleep... but it doesn't look that way to the other Arisen. They just summon pawns when they need them, as you do too." "Alright, this is all too confusing," Lena shook her head. "But I don't think you can walk." She had a point, Scorpio could barely stand. He was pressing his hand to his side, clearly in pain. "I think the wound might have reopened..." He said apologetically. "I must have missed something," Lena looked worried. "Lie down." Scorpio's wound was oozing dark blood again. There was no gash on the skin, it was just a scar, but Lena figured that the flesh must have reopened beneath it. "This needs urgent treatment," she concluded. "This requires surgery." She looked around, but the campsite in the middle of a forest didn't look remotely sterile. At least they had enough restorative potions in their packs... That would have to do. She sighed, touched Scorpio's forehead checking for fever, aligned an array of potion bottles immediately in her reach, then turned to the other pawns. "We are not going anywhere today," she said. "Nick, please guard the site," she looked at the fighter. "Adam... I know you're a sorcerer now, but you used to be a mage, can you still heal? You can use Scorpio's staff." "I can still heal, yes," Adam, their second pawn, squinted at Lena. "What are you planning? How can your pawn be ill if he just returned from the Rift?" "I told you, you'd understand things in time," the fighter said in his ear. "Looks like that time is now." "This isn't an ordinary wound," Lena was blotting out drops of dark blood that kept gathering around the scar in Scorpio's side. "We'll have time for explanations later. For now, just be ready to heal when I say so, and don't be shocked or surprised at anything you're about to see..." She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a pair of guilded daggers. "Silver would have been better..." she muttered. "But gold will have to do." She removed her lorica and her chainmail sleeves. "Here we go... It's better if you don't witness this..." She smiled at Scorpio and turned his head sideways, exposing his neck. "Sweet dreams, my friend." She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her fangs emerge, then bit Scorpio's neck until he fell asleep. She did not need that much blood, but she did need some... There was no way around it. Adam was watching in fascination. He had heard of vampires that could transform at will, they were very rare, and here was one before him. But surely she didn't just fancy a drink... What was she planning? Lena flicked her daggers together igniting them. When the fire went out and just the glow remained, she cut through Scorpio's scar. The skin parted revealing a deep wound full of dark blood. "Oh, it's as bad as I feared," she muttered, standing up. "Nothing else for it..." Another deep breath, and familiar sharp pain in her shoulder blades told her that she was transforming. Adam gasped. Nick took a step back. Scorpio was still asleep. Lena kneeled over his wound and started drinking the dark dragon blood from it. ... "You will come to appreciate my offer in time," she heard the voice of Molag Bal in her head. "Now again it is my gift that's keeping you alive." "An Arisen is linked to the dragon... You and I are linked, Dragonborn," Grigori's voice joined in. "The more dragon blood you drink, the closer we become." Lena stopped drinking blood as she noticed a change in the way it tasted - the heavy bitterness was gone, replaced by the usual sweetness of human blood. She seemed to have cleansed the wound once again. "I did the same thing last time and I missed something," she thought, picking up her dagger and examining carefully the tissue inside the wound. It all looked the same, none of it looked necrotic. "What is the source of the dragon blood here?" She wondered. And then she saw it - a tiny red crystal was lodged in the flesh, a Wyrmslife crystal. "Next time we're in Battahl, Lord Phaesus will pay for this!" She promised herself, trying to keep rage at bay for the moment. "He made sure that Scorpio would never recover!" Wyrmslife crystals were crystallised drops of dragon blood. When enclosed into a living body, they would transform its blood into dragon blood, thus infecting the host with Dragonsplague over and over again. Lena tried to remove the crystal from the wound, but it was deeply embedded into it. When she tried to lift it out, it crumbled. Cursing under her breath, she had no choice but to cut out more of the flesh... "Your pawn has had dragon blood course through his veins for a long time now," she heard Grigori's voice again. "I've felt his presence... I've felt your presence too, since your souls are linked... I wonder just how far you will go, Dragonborn..." Grigori's voice faded away as if he flew off into the distance. Lena sighed. Just like in the very beginning of her journey as an Arisen, she was uncertain and confused. What did he mean - how far she would go? Wasn't it the same cycle being repeated over and over again? It wasn't always the same, true, but close enough... "Perhaps the answers will come to us without us searching for them," she recalled Scorpio's words, something he said after they'd spent hours talking through everything they knew trying to understand the meaning of the Pawn Legion. Some pieces of the puzzle were still missing. She shook her head and focused on closing Scorpio's wound. ... "...and that's what happened in Battahl," Lena finished telling the story of Scorpio's wound to the other two pawns while Scorpio was sleeping. With all the restoratives and Adam's healing magic, he was recovering well. Lena had ingested enough blood to transform back into her human form, and even her fangs had receded. "I never knew such wickedness was possible!" Adam was still stunned by the story. "To inject dragon blood into a pawn's body, it's like... like... I cannot think of anything that could compare!" He exclaimed in horror and indignation. "I am so sorry for the things I said to you... about getting him back at a riftstone..." He blushed, looking embarrassed. "Oh, don't worry," Lena shrugged. "I met pawns that have been abandoned... I know where you are coming from." Finally Scorpio stirred, waking up. He tried to sit up, but the pain must have been too severe. "We shall be staying here for a few days," Lena looked at her pawns in turn. "No monster hunting, just deer hunting for now. And don't tell me that resting too much will make us unfit for battle. And no, I won't dismiss you just yet, I don't care what you tell your Arisen... Say it was the most boring journey ever, for all I care..." "Boring? You've got to be joking," the fighter smirked. "Besides, I'm sure you've got more stories to tell, Dragonborn." "Hmm." Lena squinted at him. How did he know? She was sure she never mentioned that it was what Grigori called her. Or was it true perhaps that all pawns were linked to the dragon somehow? Once again, she had more questions than answers.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Jun 23 2024, 09:31 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Last Seed, 4E204 - Pebbles "Cyril, is that you?" Lena approached a mage in leather bandings sitting on the edge of a cliff in Bakbattahl throwing pebbles into the water below. "What are you doing here?" "Hello, Wolf," he answered without turning around. "I am sitting on the edge of a cliff throwing pebbles into the water. The same as you, really." "I see you haven't changed." Lena sat down next to him. "Why would I?" He looked at her and smiled. "We pawns don't age, so what's another hundred years? Has it been really that long? You haven't aged either, I notice." "Arisen don't age apparently," Lena shrugged. "At least Arisen like me." "Yeah, the ones that can't let go of their hearts," Cyril nodded. "You lost yours again and now you're going after the dragon. You'll get it back for a short while, or may be even you won't, but if you do, it'll be taken away from you soon enough, and you will anew throw yourself into chasing the dragon, all in the hope to regain your heart, only to lose it shortly afterwards, etcetera, etcetera. Plenty of pebbles to throw into the water, there is a neverending supply." "It is as you say," Lena nodded. "And yet I cannot give it up." "Many Arisen do, though," Cyril looked at her sideways. "My master finds it quite convenient to live without a heart, doesn't miss it in the slightest. He has no need for it at all." "Has he abandoned you?" Lena's voice fell. "Not really, no," Cyril shook his head. "I am still officially attached to him, but he doesn't want me to crowd his bedroom, and so I'm staying out. He can call on me any time and I'll come at once, not that it will ever happen. But he didn't throw me off a cliff, if that's what you're asking. I am not forfeit." "And of course he cannot possibly throw you off a cliff now, since you're not in his bedroom," Lena smirked. "Well played, Cyril." "It is as you say," Cyril inclined his head. "I am free to roam the land all I like." "We need a mage, come with us," Lena smiled at him. Cyril was a good mage. "Come with you to do what? I prefer to avoid battle, as you well know. And this means avoid dragon-chasing Arisen." "We need a mage, Cyr." "You've got Scorpio." "We also need a fighter and a sorcerer, and brilliant though he is, Scorpio cannot be a mage as well." Lena put on her stubborn face. "And I'm not bothering Rook again, he really earned some time with his wife now." "Rook got married, I heard," Cyril nodded and whistled. "You don't see a pawn getting married every day... Well, you pretty much never see a pawn getting married... Rook's always been an odd one out." "I wonder how Scarlet is doing," Lena sighed. "I haven't seen her in ages." "Scarlet's been forfeit," Cyril said softly. "And her Arisen died of old age... Yes, it can happen to those that give up chasing the dragon. Their hearts die, and Arisen start ageing and eventually die as well." "Does it mean that Scarlet is no longer a pawn? Like Selene back in Gransys? Through the Transference of Souls ritual?" "No, Scarlet is still a pawn," Cyril sighed. "She was forfeit long before her Arisen died... There was no soul transference, since she wasn't wanted." "Good grief... That is awful," Lena shook her head, looking into the distance. "I just hope Scarlet won't end up in the Everfall or on the Bitterblack Isle like the pawns we met there..." "That is entirely possible," Cyril nodded. "She cannot walk the worlds now, she can only walk the Rift... which means the Everfall or the Bitterblack Isle... or just float in the mist until her soul dissolves into the Void..." They sat in silence, looking into the distance. "Come with us, Cyril," Scorpio said softly after a while. "Lest your soul starts dissolving into the Void as well." "Hmm... Perhaps I should..." He looked at Scorpio. "I've heard what happened to you here... Wounds like that never really heal. Unless... well... I don't really know what I'm talking about. But there is knowledge here in Battahl, long lost to the ages. You've seen carved panels here and there, old archeologists carved reports of their discoveries on them. Discoveries of antique artefacts and knowledge. They speak of Godsway of course." "We've seen such panels," Lena nodded. "Never found any Godsway next to any of them though..." "Perhaps it's not Godsway itself but the knowledge relating to it that we should seek," Scorpio looked at her. "Why did those archeologists carve their reports on stone tablets dotting the landscape rather than just write them on a piece of parchment?" "They also wrote them on pieces of parchment, I found one or the other fragment in Phaesus' laboratories," Lena nodded. "There was some political upheaval, and those archeologists were declared traitors to Battahl, they were tortured, and the ones that survived the torture were executed... I found some diaries too... They didn't seem to understand what they were being accused of or why, and so couldn't give the right answers to the inquisitors to make the torture stop..." "Godsway is a forbidden topic, any research into it eventually carries a death sentence, they knew what they were doing," Cyril turned to look at a guilded door set into the rock some distance away from them. "Why do you think they call it the Forbidden Magic? It is only in Battahl that you can have a public building called 'The Forbidden Magic Laboratory' quite well-known in the capital, with a corridor connecting to the Imperial Palace, yet pretend that it doesn't exist," he smirked. "Lord Phaesus is an interesting man." "Lord Phaesus didn't build it, he merely took possession of it," Lena objected. "The laboratory has been there for millennia." "Housing doting old mages who could hardly cast a fireball," Cyril scoffed. "The building's been there, aye. It's as old as the Imperial Palace, both were carved into the rock as one complex. Nobody knows by whose design or why... It could be just glorified servants' quarters for all we know. Or a fighting arena." "The laboratory is a dragon trap," Lena shook her head. "It's open at the top. You lure a dragon into it, and once it's inside, its wing span prevents it from flying through that same channel out again. The same way as you catch wasps and other insects in a clay pot with some honey in it." She laughed, picturing a dragon reduced to a wasp. "You didn't kill Lord Phaesus," Cyril observed. "No, I still have need of him," Lena nodded, but didn't elaborate. The conversation died down again. Someone walked past, the city was buzzing with activity day and night, like a beehive, or perhaps a wasp nest... Three people were sitting on the edge of a cliff occasionally throwing pebbles into the water below. The night fell and the stars above were gazing at them from the depths of the Void.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Jul 4 2024, 02:02 AM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Last Seed, 4E204 - Ad Astra Ultra "Ego sum dominus tuus nunc," the dragon held Scorpio in its hand. "Ascendens occides!" "Scorpio is possessed! Watch out!" Cyril shot a fireball at Scorpio just as the dragon gently set him down. "Cyril! Nooooo!!!" Lena rushed towards him, but it was too late - Scorpio had already retaliated, and his fireballs were rather stronger than Cyril's. Cyril was sinking into the lava, singed on all sides. "Leave me, I'll manage," Cyril wasn't giving up, he was still able to cast spells, the lava being firm enough to carry his weight. "My ankles may burn but I'll see it through. You have to kill Scorpio, and quickly." "Easier said than done..." Lena watched Juri throw herself at Scorpio, but her sword pierced empty space - the sorcerer was hovering above her. Levitation. And he could also cast spells from ten feet above ground, which he proceeded to demonstrate, hitting Lena with a blizzard, also catching Cyril into its freezing circle. "Move away as soon as you can," Cyril was saying with difficulty. "He will summon meteors next, or else a tornado. We won't survive that. At least let's not die all at once." Dragons could possess pawns making them switch sides in battle, that was well known. All the skills that the pawns had developed in service of their Arisen, were now used against that Arisen, so it was particularly bad if the pawn was the Arisen's main pawn rather than one of the hired ones. Scorpio knew everything about Lena, her weaknesses and insecurities, and he was going to exploit them under the influence of the dragon. "He expects me to rush to Cyril's aid come what may," Lena thought. "And then he'll get us both together." She shook her head. At least she too knew all Scorpio's strengths and weaknesses, she knew how he thought, and she had to use it against him. But at the same time... she wasn't possessed, she could not do something she would regret and claim that someone made her do it. Scorpio would remember everything, would he forgive her if she was particularly mean? She had to kill him, yes, that was the only way to end possession, but it was how she was going to achieve it, that mattered now. She still had to be able to live with herself after the battle was over. And in the meantime there was of course also the dragon. The dragon that was doing its best to kill them all, Scorpio included, when he was no longer needed. The dragon that was not wasting a moment and was now burning them all with its fire breath. "Dragon first," Lena thought, jerking her head towards Cyril, trying to make him understand that he should be healing himself and Juri, and leave Lena to her own devices. After all, she had a bag full of potions. She stepped away from Cyril when the stiffness from the frostbite allowed her to move, and knocked on a poisoned arrow. That one was for the dragon. Its heart was exposed, and any hit at it would be felt keenly. She loosed the arrow and knocked on another. She didn't think a mere double dose of poison would send the dragon into the fulminant state, but it was worth a try. With the dragon reeling in pain, her next arrow was for Scorpio. "Plain, not poisoned," she reflected. "Interrupt his spellcasting, get him down to the ground, then go on daggers." She drew the string as taught as she dared, and let go. The dragon flapped its wings, and the arrow missed its mark. Huge boulders started raining from the sky as Scorpio made the earth erupt right where Lena stood. She was propelled into the air, then smashed down into the ground by a falling rock. She heard Cyril cry out, then all went quiet. "That was too easy, Dragonborn," the dragon's mocking voice spoke in her head. "Your pawn is a better sorcerer than you are an archer." "Of course he is!" Lena heard her angry voice reply. "But I am not done yet, dragon. You may possess him... but can you look into his soul?" "Arise, Assassin!" Sharp, searing pain and a blinding white light permeated Lena's whole being as the dust of a crushed wakestone slithered through Scorpio's fingers. "I cannot lose you now, dragon or no dragon. But what I do next... I cannot control." Assassin. Of all the names and titles that he could call her, he chose that one. Did it reflect Lena's true self? Or was it simply a hint as to what she should do? An assassin always acts to her best advantage. "This is no time for chivalry," Lena nodded to herself when the white light subsided and she could see again. Scorpio was within reach, his spell not yet incanted... Lena threw out a snare pulling him down to the ground, they tumbled as she could not stand yet, but she got on top, her dagger ready to pierce his heart... Her amber eyes met his silvery grey, now turned red with the dragon's possession. Was that Dragonsplague? "You have to kill your pawn to end possession," she heard the dragon's voice in her head again. "But I have gleaned into his soul... and I've seen yours in it. His heart is yours as your soul is his... Dare you pierce his heart?" "But he is a pawn... he won't perish..." Lena's dagger trembled. "Are you certain? You lost him once already..." The dragon's voice trailed off, as if the dragon was flying away. "Grigori!" Lena suddenly realised just which dragon was speaking to her inside her head. It wasn't the drake that was now breathing fire at Cyril and Juri. It was Grigori, the dragon serving the Legion, the dragon that Lena had to face in order to regain her heart. Would a dagger through the heart be one of those things that could kill a pawn outright? She blinked. Since pawn immortality was rooted in magic, it was impossible to predict what would happen. Dared she test it? What choice did she have? Scorpio's red glowing eyes were looking at her devoid of all expression. It wasn't just Godsway that could bend a pawn's will; compared to this possession, Godsway was only a poor imitation. Which it probably was... Lena just realised that she was looking at the very magic that made people into pawns, the same magic that animated her own body, making it live without the heart. That magic was now turning her friend against her. "I got him back once, I shall do it again if need be," she told herself. "This Dragonsplague has to end now, or else it will consume him completely. He's still in there somewhere, behind the possession, he revived me just now... 'Assassin', he said... Indeed." She steadied her hand and thrust her dagger between his ribs and through his heart. Scorpio went limp and closed his eyes. Lena noticed the red glow subsiding. She hoped that when he opened his eyes again, she would see silvery grey. A puddle of greenish light spread over Scorpio - the usual sign of a pawn that lay dead waiting for the Arisen to revive him. The puddle was steadily shrinking - when it was gone, the pawn would return to the Rift. She sheathed her dagger and lay her hands over the wound she had just inflicted. "Come back to me," she said, pressing it down. For a few moments nothing was happening, all she saw was the puddle of light shrinking rapidly. If Scorpio didn't wake up before the puddle ran out... She didn't want to think about that. She was just repeating in her mind those words - "come back to me". Then finally she felt a heartbeat. The puddle of light shrank into a point and vanished, and Scorpio opened his eyes, silvery grey as always. "You understood me then," he smiled. "I would have preferred to be thrown off a cliff with no wounds to heal, but there's no cliff around here, and beggars cannot be choosers..." "I wasn't sure..." "But you did it anyway," he squeezed her shoulder as a sign of support. "Come on, get up. The drake is still here, the battle continues." The drake was hovering over them, incanting a spell. Juri lay dead on burning lava, her own puddle of light steadily shrinking. Cyril was casting healing magic at Lena, he was still standing on the edge of a lava pool, his ankles charred. Why was he casting healing at Lena? Did she not have a bag full of potions? She did, but there was no time to stop to drink one. Besides, she didn't even notice her health dwindling in the dragon's fire while she hesitated with her dagger poised at Scorpio's heart. She felt the slight tickling of Cyril's spell, jumped up and rushed over to Juri before her puddle of light ran out. Scorpio was back and the battle continued. ... "This drake took more out of us than was safe," Cyril stood next to Lena when the drake was finally slain. "We are all badly injured. You died three times. Scorpio's wound must have reopened - just look at him, he can barely stand... Possession leaves its traces on us pawns." "Drakes are never easy," Lena nodded. "The camp isn't that far away, let's hope we can get there without too much trouble..." "That's unrealistic," Cyril shook his head. "There will be monsters along the way, it's the middle of the night and we can't see where we're going. You've got a ferrystone - let's teleport out of here." "You know I hate teleporting," it was Lena's turn to shake her head. "Especially after a fight. I'm never quite sure that each piece of me arrives at the destination and gets reassembled in the right order... In fact, I could swear it wasn't always the case... We're walking." She concluded firmly and started climbing out of the lava-filled ditch where they were fighting the drake. "Oh I agree," Cyril muttered under his breath. "Your head definitely didn't get reassembled in the right order." ... Cyril was of course right. The road was plagued by monsters, but they managed - somehow their wounds made them focus more. Finally the gates of the fortified army camp were in sight, and they picked up their pace wanting to be inside as soon as possible. Wham! Lena went flying, landing a distance away and hitting her head on the rocks. Thump! Someone else landed not far from her... The sight of the gates to the camp made them drop their guard, and they were now paying for it. As near as the gates were, they still had to get through a horde of monsters to reach them. "That is an armoured cyclops," Juri rose from the rocks next to Lena. "I dropped my guard too, unforgivable really. Won't happen again!" And with that she charged the cyclops. "No, wait!" Lena tried to stop her, but Juri wasn't listening. "Hot headed as well as stubborn," Lena shook her head. "Like someone else I know..." she smirked, knocking on a poisoned arrow. An armoured cyclops presented a significant challenge, but it was nothing compared to the drake they just defeated. Perhaps they underestimated it, and were now reminded that being squashed by a giant club, stomped and sat upon by a monster of that size, was not something to be taken lightly. Lena stayed in the same spot for too long, loosing arrow after arrow, she annoyed the cyclops and got noticed, it turned towards her, swung its club and took a step or two... A couple of steps was all that was needed for the cyclops to be on top of Lena, squashing and stomping her, and she was crushed and could not even crawl. "You must remain cautious!" Scorpio was pulling her from under the cyclops. "A cyclops may not be the toughest of monsters, but it will kill you all the same if you drop your guard! Get onto those rocks..." "No!!!" While Scorpio was dragging Lena out of danger, he dropped his guard... Several wargs jumped out of nowhere, triple the size of wolves, they liked to snatch their prey and carry it away, and one of them now snatched Scorpio, an easy target that he was, trying to help Lena. She charged after the warg, but that was pointless - wargs were much too fast. She knocked on an arrow and sent it after the warg, not really aiming, and not being able to aim in the dark, just shooting several arrows in the warg's general direction... "Watch out for that mage!" She heard Cyril scream from a distance. "She's casting frost spells! She can freeze you solid!" Lena turned to his voice - he wasn't talking to her, he was trying to warn Juri who was climbing up onto the cyclops in full view of some bandit mage who decided to practice frost spells on her... Lena watched a white projectile fly towards Juri, hit her and cover her and the cyclops in a layer of ice. Juri fell off and a puddle of greenish light appeared over her lifeless body. "Oh no!" Lena rushed into the fray. The mage first. She didn't bother with arrows, she sprinted, threw a snare, then plunged her daggers into the mage's chest. No more frost spells. Juri was next - Lena rushed to her, quickly pulling her from under the feet of the sluggish cyclops, but it would not take long for it to recover from the frost - she had to hurry. She ran, carrying Juri over her shoulder... it felt like a crawl. She carried her as far as she dared, a few steps away from the cyclops would suffice, she only needed a few moments to revive Juri. "Thank you, master," Juri jumped up - and charged the cyclops again... "Help me!!" Cyril's voice was trailing off - a warg snatched him and disappeared into the night. Lena's heart fell - at the same time she felt Scorpio die, carried off by a warg as well... She ran after the wargs. She didn't know where she was going, it was dark and her lantern only showed her rocks. Where did the wargs come from? There must be a lair nearby, they would be dragging their prey to their lair. She saw one shaking its head, it had something - someone! - in its jaws. Cyril or Scorpio, or even one of the bandits, she could not tell. She charged the warg, her daggers extended, the warg was momentarily distracted, she jumped it and slit open its belly. It fell, covering Lena in hot blood and entrails... A dagger aiming for Lena's throat slid on the slime. The prey was a bandit who was now going for Lena. "I'll take all you've got!" He shouted, taking another swing, but Lena rolled away. "Are you mad?! I've got no time for you!!" Another snare, and he slumped under her feet, his neck snapped. "Where are they?" Lena looked around, not seeing any more wargs, not knowing where Cyril or Scorpio were taken to. It would not be far away, wargs never dragged their prey too far away... She felt another tug at her soul - Scorpio's greenish light was dwindling, his time was running out, but she could not find him, she could not see that greenish light anywhere... She started to panic, frantically peering into the darkness, she extinguished her lantern so as to see the faintest reflection of a greenish light... There - she spotted it! Just to the side, behind some rocks! She dashed, she got to him, pressed her hands to his chest, it only took a few moments to revive a pawn... "Ouch!" She had dropped her guard and was now herself being carried away by a warg... She felt the final tug at her soul - Scorpio had returned to the Rift. She did not get to him in time. "Take that, you foul beast!!" Juri got the warg that was chewing on Lena. Cyril cast a healing spell. "We've cleared the wargs, but the cyclops is still raging," he said quietly. "At least the bandits are keeping it occupied for now, but they'll switch to us as soon as we approach - the cyclops isn't carrying anything of value. We, on the other hand..." "Yeah, I met one of them already," Lena nodded. "Let's join in the fun. Scorpio... I was too late." She almost whispered those last words, but Cyril and Juri heard her. They nodded and turned towards the battle. "The camp is just past the cyclops," Juri said as she walked. "They have a riftstone." Lena rushed through the rest of the battle like in a haze. Her arrows were flying all over the place, and most of them found their mark, be it the cyclops, the bandits, the goblins, the hobgoblins, the succubi or the venom harpies... It really felt as if Hell itself descended onto that little patch of land in front of the gates to the camp. Both Juri and Cyril fell several times and had to be revived. Lena came that close to dying herself all too often, but always managed to take a swig from one of the potions just in time. When the final beast was slain, you could not see the rocks for the bodies. Several guards were among the fallen as well. "Why have a camp here?" Lena pulled a guard's body from under a pile of goblins. "This is such a dangerous place." "It is the stronghold on this volcanic island," Juri gently took her arm and lifted her up. "Let's go inside. The soldiers here know what they signed up for. ... Lena touched the riftstone and Scorpio stepped out of the mist of the Rift. He did not say anything. He hugged her tightly. She pressed her ear to his chest, feeling and hearing his heartbeat. She also felt warm blood run down his leg - his wound had reopened. "If you die while I am in the Rift, I won't be able to revive you," Scorpio said in a barely audible whisper. "If I die while you are in the Rift, you will be forfeit," Lena answered just as softly. "I have seen the lights of the Black City. But I have not heard its call." "Ad astra ultra - to the stars and beyond, as Grigori always says... I'll come for you." "Ad astra ultra... Grigori returned to the Black City. I have seen it through his eyes." "The Dread Father awaits us all..." "But he is not in a hurry. Our time has not yet come." "We are not done yet." Lena nodded and looked up, meeting the silvery grey of Scorpio's eyes, still reflecting the mists of the Rift and the lights of the Black City far in the distance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Jul 4 2024, 02:20 AM
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Jul 9 2024, 06:40 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Last Seed, 4E204 - Choices "You promised to come with me!" Glyndwr looked at Lena with scorn. "Not to return to your house to do... what exactly?" "To prepare for the journey," Lena looked up, trying to hide her annoyance. "You wanted to go half way across Vermund. That'll take several days, and there aren't any villages along the way for us to restock. We have to be ready." "You don't see me carrying a pack filled with everything and anything!" He rolled his eyes and stomped about a bit, like a twelve year old. "And I've been on the road every day of the past month, I'll have you know!" Scorpio stood quietly holding up their bags while Lena was packing the bare necessities from their supply chest. Potions, salves, lamp oil, and arrows - lots of arrows. She was primarily an archer, switching to daggers for that personal touch. "I would like to stay alive," Lena shot a glance at Scorpio and he smirked, equally quietly. "The difference is that now, with a party of five, we won't be able to sneak past any monsters and will face battle on every corner. It is quite different from your solitary strolls - don't they say that an elf blends in with the forest? You probably don't spook every ogre in the viscinity when you are alone." "I wish you didn't have pawns with you wherever you go," Glyndwr scoffed and shot Scorpio an irritated glance. "I don't have them with me wherever I go," Lena gave him a stern look. "You know how things stand. You wanted to cross the wilderness but I have a price on my head. Without pawns, I won't survive." "But I will protect you!" Glyndwr exclaimed with poorly concealed eagerness and blushed. "You are an excellent archer," Lena tried not to insult him. "But between the two of us we could not take on a dozen of bandits or mercenaries, or a large monster, or a dragon. Yes, a dragon. They tend to seek me out because I'm an Arisen. Walking with me is a very different affair than walking on your own, my friend." "I'll never get to know you with them around!" Again, he shot a spiteful glance towards Scorpio who was now starting to get annoyed. What Lena wanted to say would put Glyndwr in his place but would also undoubtedly insult him. "If you want to get to know me that way, rent us a room at The Rose," she thought. Glyndwr was young for an elf - just a hundred years old, and Lena wondered how maturing scaled up between humans and elves. He acted as a child sometimes, but he was no child any longer. He was jealous of Scorpio - feverishly jealous of him, as it appeared, and he wanted to believe that Lena could never prefer a pawn to a "real" person, even though he was smart enough to know better. It was a case of wishful thinking fueled by desire and jealousy, Lena thought. "Ah, so you actually wanted to spend some time alone with me!" Lena smiled brightly. "That's perfectly understandable - some conversations need privacy. But that cannot be done while strolling through the countryside because of all the fights and the monsters! Alas, such is the life of an Arisen!" She paused, watching the effect of her words on Glyndwr. He seemed to calm down a bit. "So, do you still want to go on a trip? Or do you rather prefer to arrange for a quiet dinner here in town so that you and I could get to know each other without the pawns?" "I am an elf, you are a human, I cannot take you out to dinner," Glyndwr sighed. "Not here in Vernworth, not back at the Sacred Arbour. The best I could hope for then is to spend the night with you at The Rose..." He paused and Lena looked up. He wasn't blushing, this was a child no longer! "But that would lead nowhere... The only elf that I know of who married a non-elf - a dwarf, I believe - lives out in the wilderness, completely cut off of all society. That's not the life I want for myself. My father would never approve of you... both on the account of you being human and keeping company of pawns..." He shook his head and sighed again. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. This is pointless..." He sighed again, now looking forlorn. "Let's go on this trip," Lena said firmly. "The pawns are my entourage and are very much a part of who I am. In particular, Scorpio and I are very close. And, in another world, I am married to another man. You didn't know that, I suppose. I am double your age, and then some. I can tell you all this and more, if you want to hear it. So, it is indeed going nowhere... if by that you mean marriage. But whether or not it means that we should not spend any time together... you decide." Glyndwr stared at her, those were not the words he expected to hear. She was giving him a chance to withdraw with his dignity mostly intact. She was double his age... but she looked in her twenties! And although Glyndwr realised that Lena must have been older than that, he estimated her to be in her thirties... still so much younger than he, as all humans now were. "In another world..." he noticed Lena saying something about another world. "Oh, married to another man... not this pawn then," Glyndwr felt vindicated. "Yet they are close... But that can't mean much if she's married to someone else. At least this pawn isn't getting her either!" He blushed as he realised that his thinking wasn't very mature. "Let's get going," he said aloud. "It's a long trip, as you say. We'll see how it goes." ... "What did your father say when you came home with this human-made bow?" Lena struck up a conversation with Glyndwr when the road seemed peaceful. She first met him standing in front of an archery shop in Vernworth admiring human-made bows. She said hello to him and it transpired that he wasn't good enough at archery with an elven-made bow, and so he wondered whether a bow of a foreign make would be better. Yet it would be unbecoming for an elf to buy a human-made bow... and so all he could ever do was stand in front of the shop looking at them. Lena was buying some things for herself at the time, and noticed the shop keeper feeling uneasy with an elf in front of his shop staring at his goods, day in, day out... So, to solve this conundrum, Lena gave Glyndwr a human-made hunting bow. Just like that. Glyndwr was so taken by her kindness, that he practically melted then and there. And when he practiced later, he found his precision much improved. Yet it was the "wrong" bow of a "wrong" make, and it was still a big question whether his father would even allow such a heresy in Sacred Arbour, let alone in his son's hands... Which came a long way to explain why Glyndwr liked to practice away from home. He was an oddball for certain, yet wanted to be regular and accepted among the elves... and at the same time he wanted to befriend an Arisen, who not only used foreign bows, but was a human and kept company of pawns, all those things considered improper in the elven society. Glyndwr felt that he had to make up his mind, but the choice would be to stay among the elves and comply, or be yourself and leave home behind, forever remaining an alien among others. It wasn't an easy choice by any stretch of imagination. "Father didn't think I had any bows with me at all," Glyndwr smirked. "Of course when later I used it to shoot an ogre in the eye who had snatched my sister, father changed his mind. Seeing that he himself, with the best elven-made bow, could only manage to hit the general direction of the ogre, not inflicting any real damage. So I am now allowed to wield a human-made bow to honour that victory, but it remains an exception. This bow has thus been declared elven," he smirked, drawing his hunting bow as a pack of goblins made an appearance from behind the next hill. "All right," Lena smirked as well. "Just don't bring any other human-made bows home, as they might not be elven enough." "What is it that you are wielding?" Glyndwr noticed an unusal bow in Lena's hands. "That doesn't look elven or human to me." "I don't know, perhaps it's Battahli?" Lena shrugged, turning over the bow. "We found it in a treasure chest in one of the caves. The pawns said it was very rare, they hardly see them on their travels. Perhaps it comes from another world even... who is to tell." "Something is etched on it," Glyndwr noticed. "There's a drawing of a flying creature... a griffin or even a dragon... and some writing, but I don't know the script..." "It's called 'Darkening Storm'," Lena said. "You can read it? What language is this?" "I can't rightly read it..." Lena peered into the letters for the first time. "I know what it's called because it told me..." "You talk to your bow? And it talks back?" Glyndwr wasn't sure what to think. They didn't have a drop of alcohol all day. "Tell is, these bows were dipped in dragon blood..." Scorpio said looking over Lena's shoulder. "Or that they have a piece of a dragon's soul in them. Probably neither, but if the bow told you its name, then it must have something to do with dragons. Isn't that dragon script, by the way?" "It is dragon script, yes," Lena nodded. "But it changes nothing... Dragon language is not read off a page like other languages. It communicates in a mystical way that I can't explain. It's the same as reading words of power off a word wall... It just comes to me." "She is Dragonborn," Scorpio turned to Glyndwr. "Related to dragons somehow. But all Arisen are already related to dragons because a dragon holds their hearts... But anyway, that's the connection. Wolf is neither drunk nor mad," he added with a smirk. "Wow, a dragon bow!" Glyndwr was fascinated. "Would it respond to me, do you think? Could I hold it just for a moment?" His eyes were burning with excitement. "Here, have a go," Lena laughed. "A fresh batch of goblins is coming to play for your pleasure." It didn't take long and the goblins were routed. Glyndwr returned the bow back to Lena. "It doesn't seem any better than my ordinary hunting bow here..." He sounded disappointed. "But you hit every goblin! Your aim was perfect!" Lena exclaimed in surprise. "As it was also with the hunting bow, my point exactly," Glyndwr nodded. "I don't know what I expected. It just didn't feel special." "Then perhaps you need to be an Arisen or a Dragonborn to feel it," Cyril joined in. "Interesting." "If you continue this way, doing odd things and walking an odd path, the dragon will end up picking you too next time he comes around," Lena returned the Darkening Storm bow to its holder on her back and felt a pleasant thud like a pat on her shoulder. "You elves live long enough to witness many comings of the dragon. I am surprised not more of you became Arisen over time." "We elves stay away from dragons," Glyndwr said darkly. "Or griffins, meduses, ogres, cyclopi, harpies, goblins, and so on. We keep our heads down and mind our own business. A dragon never attacked Sacred Arbour, yet. And if he did, there'd be hardly anyone to stand up to him, everyone would just accept it as a force of nature and scatter. We are not Arisen material." "You sound like you might be the exception," Lena smiled. "Like that elven woman who married a dwarf. I met her, she is an old Arisen herself." "Can you introduce me? I'd like to meet her," Glyndwr looked up. "If you really want to... it's out in Battahl. And she's rather grumpy and doesn't like visitors..." "She sounds like an elf..."
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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