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> Madness Helps Me Save Myself
mALX
post Oct 23 2011, 12:43 AM
Post #181


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From: Cyrodiil, the Wastelands, and BFE TN



The tension of the beginning of this chapter was really ratcheted up by Wrothken's inner thoughts as the meal progressed, stretching out the seconds as they passed by his seeing every movement the Duke was making - and I especially loved how Wrothken suddenly remembered the rumors about the Dark Brotherhood coming at that appropos time!!!

Superbly written, and it took a quest we all know and brought it to life !! Awesome job Jacki !!!

URK !! Very descriptive end to the Duke, glad I had an empty stomach !! Lol.

Toasting Thadon and Wrothken's overwhelming guilt was a great touch !! Awesome Chapter !!


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King Coin
post Oct 23 2011, 01:48 AM
Post #182


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Oh no I missed one ohmy.gif
Whoa, it says Chapter 38 at the top of your most recent post. What happened to 36 and 37?

Chapter 35
I know a few of my characters have entertained thoughts of taking that huge pile of drug and selling it. There was always the limitation of how to get that huge pile past the guards though. Lol.

Now that would be bad! Accidentally dosing himself by brushing his face.

Well Wrothken is settling in it seems. The deed isn’t yet done, don’t get comfy.

Well, invited to dinner by the man he just effectively killed. I wonder how Wrothken will pull through this?

Chapter 38(?)
The deed is done, and Wrothken is the Duke.

Heh, summoned the Mad God’s right hand man at an awkward time.

Sheogorath’s relm seems like a terrible place to get one’s head on straight. laugh.gif

I really like Haskill in this chapter. An unusual source of hope.


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Grits
post Oct 25 2011, 03:02 PM
Post #183


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Though he was sure Thadon’s chef was a wonderful cook, he had to be since he cooked for a duke, Wrothken couldn’t taste much of anything.

Not a good sign for a Nord. Wrothken’s distress really shows. sad.gif

“Syl!” Sheogorath said, a hint of confusion in his voice. “You dare interrupt Me? Only I interrupt Me. Like just then.” Wrothken raised his eyebrows. It was strangely comforting to see Sheogorath speaking in circles to everyone else.

I love Wrothken’s way of thinking. He makes me smile.

“You don’t get it!” Wrothken cried. “All I wanted was a break from life. Just a short time away to get my head on straight and now I’m more screwed up than before.” He snorted. “Forced to battle a giant monster, get hooked on drugs and just now, kill people! What’s next? Will I have to castrate myself? Then eat it?”

Haskill raised his eyebrows. “I fail to see how that would stop the Greymarch.”


laugh.gif Haskill showed up just in time. What a great chapter!



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SubRosa
post Oct 25 2011, 05:15 PM
Post #184


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So Wrothken is the Duke now, and Syl done her defecting act. A very good touch with Wrothken drowning his sorrows afterward. Not to mention Haskill's genuinely helpful pep talk. I especially liked learning about the previous champions. Uungor being one of them was particularly brilliant.

It was strangely comforting to see Sheogorath speaking in circles to everyone else.
Its nice to know Wrothken is not the only one!

It can't be worse than what's happened before.
How comforting, not! laugh.gif


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Jacki Dice
post Nov 10 2011, 04:54 AM
Post #185


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mALX~ I guess its a good thing Wrothken had an empty stomach too! Thanks so much smile.gif

King Coin~ Oops! Thanks for catching that! Looks like I saw "eight" in the first sentence and got a little mixed up!

Grits~ When Wrothken loses his appetite, you better know its a serious situation!

SubRosa~ Nothing like a little kick from Haskill to get Wrothken's head on straight...er.

~~~♥~~~

With the release of Skyrim, Wrothken may be on vacation for a little bit. Of course we will be back, likely with even better ideas smile.gif

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Retaking the Fringe


Wrothken was surprised by how quickly sleep had come. What he wasn’t surprised by was his nightmare.

In his dream he was trapped in an ornate silver box with plush red velvet lining. Syl and Thadon were giants, standing over him as they filled the box with hearts of order. From each heart sprang a Knight. Wrothken was unarmed and could not do more than beat them with his fists. As they were mere husks, his blows did nothing and he was quickly overwhelmed. They were relentless with their swords. He was stabbed, sliced, and bleeding all over in mere seconds.

Then the knights started to sing. They sat in a circle around Wrothken’s mangled body and held hands, swaying with the lyrics.

“Obelisks in the Isles,
Bodies stacked in piles,
Ashes, ashes,
We all fall down!”

As Wrothken awoke, he found himself mumbling the song. He sat up slowly and cradled his face in his hands. By Alduin’s cursed wings, his hand hurt. Even the slightest movement sent it throbbing. It took him a good fifteen minutes of healing to get it to stop hurting.
He reached up to his face, feeling the scruff beginning to grow again. His first instinct was to shave it away, but then he remembered Thadon stroking his face, as he described skin as soft as a newborn fawn. He decided to let the scruff be for the moment.

Feeling somewhat better than he had last night, Wrothken took a calmer look around his room. He took a piece of parchment and a quill and made a list of things he needed removed: the mattress, the busts of Sheogorath, and the casks of alcohol to get rid of temptation just in case he went back to his misery. The last thing he wrote down was the door. Though Haskill’s words were comforting, it still stung to see Thadon. He handed the list to a Golden Saint on his way out.

“Yes, Your Grace?” He took a look at it. “What is this for?”

“Things I need replaced and removed from my room.”

She scanned it. “Are you certain? Most citizens are honored to sleep in your predecessor’s bed and to have Lord Sheogorath watching them as they sleep.”

Wrothken shook his head. “It’s a little too creepy for my taste.”

The Golden Saint nodded once. “As you wish, Sire.”

He knew she thought it was strange or crazy or blasphemous. He didn’t care. As long as he no longer had to scuttle away from harsh golden eyes, he was fine.



Sheogorath didn’t offer much information. Just wipe out Order. Save Passwall. At least the Knights weren’t people.

As he headed down the streets in Crucible, he realized that he no longer needed the room in Bernice’s Taphouse. At least she’d be able to rent it out again, Wrothken thought. He sighed. He had to admit while it was no palace, it was far more comfortable and cozy there.

As he entered, he was taken by surprise by the looks he was getting. Normally, it was just glances followed by hurried whispers. This time, people actually looked somewhat upset.

Someone approached him. “I thought you favored us, your Lordship.

Wrothken pinched the bridge of his nose. He should have known. “It’s complicated.”

“Why?” He said, balling up his fists. “You lit the torch for us, didn’t you? So then why’d you go and choose them? And now we’re without a duchess! We’ve got nothing, thanks to you!”

“Byron, you hush!” Bernice’s voice sounded from one of the tables. She set down her coffee pot and placed her hands on her hips. “You’ve got no idea what’s been going on, so be quiet! Just let him handle his business and things will get back to normal.”

Byron sneered. “Of course you’d say that.” He glanced at Wrothken before returning to his seat. “Gotta defend your boyfriend after all!”

The room erupted into a loud “Oooooooh!”

“Real mature,” Wrothken mumbled.

“Loud mouth,” Bernice said returning to the counter. “See if I give you anymore to drink! Sheogorath knows you’ve had quite enough!”

Wrothken took a seat in front of her. She poured him a cup of tea. “Since you’re here alive and well, I’ll assume it went well.”

“As well as you can expect,” he said. “Though I guess everyone knows about Syl.”

Bernice nodded. “I can’t say I’m surprised. She and Thadon had been on and off for years now. She loved him deeply,” Bernice placed her hand to her heart, sighing deeply. “It was her paranoia that got in the way. I hear once Thadon got too close for her liking, she assumed he was out to get her so she’d end it. Then once she cooled down, she’d go running back.”

“Hmmm,” Wrothken said. “That had to be hard on Wide Eye.”

“Who?” Bernice asked. “Oh, you mean that Argonian?” Bernice shook her head. “Well, that would never work out.” She leaned in close, whispering, “Could you imagine kissing an Argonian? They’ve got no lips!” She stood back up. “Then again, Thadon probably wouldn’t bother with kissing. He wouldn’t know tenderness if it beat him over the head!” She shook her head for a moment. “So, I take it you’ll be living up in the palace.” She frowned a little. “Just don’t forget about little old me.”

Wrothken patted her hand. “You know I could never do that. I think without you, I would have lost it long ago.”



After he changed into his armor, he remembered the pieces of ore he gathered for that set of madness armor Cutter crafted. The ache he felt over seeing her with Rheyna subsided. He realized that he wouldn’t want to get involved seriously with anyone from the Isles. Atrea drove him crazy enough.

He stopped. Thinking of her didn’t bring him any pain either. He gasped, a smile starting to spread. Relief swept over him like a wave. That meant he could return home…after he stopped the Greymarch, of course.

As soon as he entered Cutter’s store, she stared up at him. Her eyes glistened. “Do you enjoy it?” She demanded. “Cutting my heart?”

Wrothken’s eyes widened and he froze in his tracks. “What in Oblivion do you mean?”

“You know!” She said pointing at him. Her bony, white hand trembled. “Why visit that other smith?”

“What? What other…” Wrothken suddenly remembered Dumag in Bliss. He was only there once to get his armor repaired.

Cutter folded her arms. “His blades are dull and uninspired. Mine are sharp and exquisite.”

Wrothken sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I’m sorry.”

Cutter scowled at him. “Good. Otherwise I would have slit your throat! Now what do you want?”

Wrothken dumped the ore on the counter. “Remember the matrix I brought you? I want some of the armor.”

Madness Armor

Cutter held up the ore with a smirk. “This will be a magnificent set. What do you want made? I assume the boots, since you have the matrix for it. What else?”

Wrothken looked at the examples. Since he had the boots, he figured he may as well start from the ground up. “The greaves and gauntlets.”

“Perfect.” She took some measuring tape. “Strip down and hold still. I’ll need to take your measurements.”

Cutter had to stand on a stool to reach past Wrothken’s shoulders. Each time she touched him, he felt like someone placed ice on him. He tried not to shiver, but when her hand brushed along her inner thigh, he couldn’t help jumping a little.

Cutter looked up at him with a questioning glance. “You’re not getting any ideas…. are you?”

Wrothken shook his head. Then again, it was hard not to get some sort of idea given where her head was placed. He willed himself not to poke her in the eye.

“Good.” Cutter said, standing up. “Then again…. I bet it hurts…” She bit the end of her quill as she wrote down the measurements.

He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he couldn’t help it. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” she eyed him in a way that gave Wrothken goosebumps. And not the good kind. “You’re pretty big, even for a Nord. I’m guessing that’s true all over.” She twirled her short hair. “And just look at your hands.” She shuddered violently. “I bet you can choke someone real good if you put your mind to it.”

Wrothken didn’t quite know how to respond. He had indeed been hoping for something to happen with Reyna, bu Cutter? And all her talk of pain? Not something he was interested in, especially if she wanted to reciprocate. “What about Rheyna?” He managed to ask.

She shrugged. “She and I are,” she linked her fingers together. “Balance. I can give her what she likes and she does the same in return, but we are not exclusive.”

They stood in an uncomfortable silence. Cutter never broke her intense stare. She didn’t even blink.

“So… how much will it cost me?”

Cutter huffed and looked at her list of materials. “For what you’ve requested...” She wrote him up a bill and handed it over.

Wrothken felt like someone had punched him. What good was being a duke when it didn’t get him a single septim? Where could he get that much money? He glanced around the room and noticed the sword he sold her from Xedilian still propped up on the wall. Maybe he could find more weapons to sell. He remembered the bow from Syl. “Alright,” he nodded. “If you hold on to those for me, I’ll get you the septims.”

Cutter looked away with a chilling smile. “Or I can come up with some other arrangements…”

“No, no,” Wrothken said, quickly picking up his armor. “I insist!” He quickly slipped out the door before she could respond.



Wrothken arrived at The Fringe by nightfall. In the dark sky, the stars were a beautiful pink. There were so many that Wrothken found it easy to see without the aid of a torch. Everything was bathed in a soft fuchsia glow.

The sky

Looking around, Wrothken could see that obelisks had risen everywhere, even inside some of the buildings. Passwall was no longer the busy little town he recalled upon first entering. It was as still as a cemetery. The only sounds in the village were the metallic clanking of the Golden Saints’ boots. His heart sank, though he didn’t know the people of the town. He wondered just how many of them had died, or if once he killed the Gatekeeper if everyone snuck further into the Isles and escaped.

A small army of Golden Saints stood in a small cluster. Wrothken noticed that they were all men with the exception of one soldier.

Male armor

It was strange. It was a huge emergency in the Isles, so why weren’t there any Mazken around? Surely they could have set their differences aside just for a moment to ensure the survival of the realm.

Wrothken assumed the female was in charge due to the way she was barking orders at the others. She was taller than all of them. Her armor was badly cut and scratched and her sword was still in her hand. She didn’t wear a helmet, revealing light blond hair tied back in a Breton braid. She stood in the middle of a pile of knights of Order.

"Your Grace,” she said as soon as she saw him. How did he know he was the Duke? He shrugged it off as a Golden Saint thing. There was no use trying to make sense of very much. “I am Aurig Desha, lead officer of this post. A dark time has been thrust upon us. Passwall is under attack. We are outmatched and outnumbered. At first light, the spire at the center of town became active. Immediately, the area around it began to crystallize and change. Soon after that, the sky darkened and the knights came."

“A Spire? Right in the center of town?” He closed his eyes, trying to remember if he had noticed it before. “Why was that allowed to just sit there?”

“It was believed to be a monument from times past but its true purpose appears to be more sinister. It appears to be a source of power for these invaders. A... portal, or some sort of gate. I don't know. If we cannot disable or destroy it somehow, I do not think that we can stop this invasion. This town has stood on the edge of the Shivering Isles since they were borne from the mists of time. For our purposes, it serves as a defensible outpost.” She paused, clenching her teeth. “That is, against typical enemies who can know fear, intimidation, and hopelessness."

“I know how to get rid of them.” Wrothken felt a surge of usefulness. “What you do is place three of their hearts into the obelisk. Only thing is, it spawns more of them every time you do it.”

Desha clenched her jaw. “I've been losing Aureals with each attack, and I'm down to nothing but men.” She paused, looking Wrothken up and down. “No offense, Lord. We are pinned down here. If we lose, the Gates of Madness will fall. If the gates fall, the enemy will flood into the Isles. We will be helpless to stop them. But now that you've arrived, perhaps we can slow them down.”

“Alright, what’s your plan?”

She hesitated. “Even though I have served with these Aureals for centuries, as the Duke of Mania, it is your right to command the troops. Command them if you will, or leave it to me. Either way, make haste. Our time is short.” She pointed to the obelisk, which was starting to spark. “That means there are more coming.”

Wrothken looked from her to the other Saints. He was a decent brawler, but he wasn’t one for complex strategizing. “I’ll trust your judgment.”

Desha smiled. Wrothken had to admit it was a beautiful sight, especially when compared to the ever present scowl he had grown accustomed to. Maybe the Golden Saints weren’t so bad after all.

“I thank you for your trust. In your name and for the sake of the Shivering Isles, I shall not disappoint you.”

Wrothken gave her a nod and walked around what was left of Passwall. He hadn’t been there since he had first entered the Isles. Still, he felt a sort of attachment to it. Seeing the obelisks and a few of the bodies of villagers sent a numbing sensation down his legs.

He paused by the inn and looked in the window. It was in shambles. Dishes and food were everywhere. The bust of Sheogorath lay in pieces scattered across the floor. People who were unable to escape the Knights were strewn all over the place. Blood wasn’t splattered everywhere, like he had expected. Instead it just formed a thick pool on the floor. There was one slice in each person. Each kill was planned in a way that people in the Isles would have no way of fighting against.

This was the fate of the Isles, if the Greymarch wasn’t stopped. Suddenly he realized exactly what he was going to be fighting for.

“Aurig Desha,” he said, approaching the commanding Saint. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s get rid of these Knights once and for all.”

She smiled at him. “Good.” She called to the other Saints. “Form up!” They all came to her and stood at attention. “By the Staff, we will not allow this town to fall!” She turned to Wrothken. “Are you prepared for battle, Your Grace?”

He nodded.

“Good,” she said. “Because here they come!”


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:22 AM


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Madness Helps Me Save Myself
Nemesis

Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds
We are rising together
Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings
I am yours
...Yours immortally
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Grits
post Nov 10 2011, 10:34 PM
Post #186


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He stopped. Thinking of her didn’t bring him any pain either. He gasped, a smile starting to spread. Relief swept over him like a wave. That meant he could return home…after he stopped the Greymarch, of course.

Oh, just that. It is great to see Wrothken thinking about returning home! I’m worried about what might be happening there.

poke her in the eye… rollinglaugh.gif

This is a great chapter. I’m sure Wrothken will be ready to fight whenever you return from Skyrim.


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SubRosa
post Nov 10 2011, 11:23 PM
Post #187


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Another late night post that slipped through my nets.

What a dream! I especially liked the addition of the children's rhyme at the end of it.

He knew she thought it was strange or crazy or blasphemous.
Well as long as it is the first two, then Wroth fits right in! biggrin.gif

“Could you imagine kissing an Argonian? They’ve got no lips!”
I hate to sound racist, but Bernice does have a point...

It was good to visit with Bernice again. Even with the upset Dementeds all around. She is one of my favorite residents of the SI.

Wrothken has been so busy that he forgot about Awour! Congrats for the snowman! Now all he has to do is survive the Greymarch to go back home.

He willed himself not to poke her in the eye.
laugh.gif

“I've been losing Aureals with each attack, and I'm down to nothing but men.”
Now that is desperation!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 10 2011, 11:24 PM


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King Coin
post Nov 25 2011, 05:16 AM
Post #188


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This chapter was a lot of fun. The weird dream, going back to the inn, meeting Cutter. Then forming up for battle at the end.

Like Grits, I was happy about his thoughts of home. He also seems to have assumed his role as duke too. Fighting for "his people" now, not just his skin.


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mALX
post Nov 27 2011, 02:27 AM
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From: Cyrodiil, the Wastelands, and BFE TN



Your humor always interlaces through the most serious scenes of the chapter, I absolutely love that about your story !! Awesome Write !!


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Jacki Dice
post Jan 17 2012, 06:39 AM
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Grits~ Honestly, I can't wait for Wrothken to get home either. That I can say will be where things get more eventful (and more fun to write) biggrin.gif

SubRosa~ That's the thing about the beast races. Either you get a mouthful or scales or fur! It doesn't seem appealing.

King Coin~ In a way, it probably makes it easier to carry on knowing that its no longer just about him and his sanity, but the lives of people he's grown to care for.

mALX~ smile.gif It always has a way of leaking out ♥


~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-eight: Xeddefen



Wrothken was shocked at just how tough it was fighting the Knights of Order, even with the aid of the Golden Saints. They lost two more in the fierce battle. Aurig Desha was actually panting by the time it was over.

She turned to Wrothken. “Victory is ours...” She looked around Passwall. “For the moment. We must discuss our next move. The spire is obviously their source of power. This battle will not end until we find a way to shut it down.”

“Fine,” Wrothken said. “Which obelisk are they coming from?”

Desha looked to a fortress in the distance. “The ruins of Xeddefen run under Passwall. The entrance to the south of the town has been sealed for centuries. One of my scouts reported that the ruins have been opened recently and a number of these Knights are now guarding the entrance. If we all attempt to assault Xeddefen, Passwall will be overrun and we will lose the Fringe. As you can see, our forces are dangerously thin. We have no idea what opposition may await us inside."

Wrothken knew where it was headed even before she spoke. After all, he was the one who knew how to shut them down. “So, I’ll be heading in and getting it cleared out.”

“Your insight is impressive.” She nodded. “While we draw their attention here, you should be able to slip inside Xeddefen. Once inside, search for the source of the Spire's power. It must be underground somewhere. Once you find it, destroy it. Your sacrifice will be the salvation of The Fringe. We thank you, Your Grace.”

Wrothken turned and took a deep breath. Hopefully it wouldn’t end in his death. If an army of Golden Saints couldn’t beat them, what chance did he have? Risky or not, he couldn’t allow the same thing to happen to New Sheoth.



He trudged through the murky waters over to the fortress. He was reminded of the locked gate he had to enter to collect bones for Jayred. Wrothken wondered for a moment what had become of him. If only he was around, he would make a great ally, especially since the Knights of Order lacked a skeletal structure for him to fawn over.

The obelisks were everywhere. He couldn’t remember if there had always been so many. When he first entered Passwall his mind had been far too distracted by the wonder of the land. He kicked himself for not paying attention, though he knew it wasn’t his fault. How was he supposed to know that they were some sort of portal for the evil forces of Order?

It wasn’t long after he walked back on dry land that he came across his first pair of Knights. They let out a metallic screech when they saw him. In unison, they took out their swords and ran to attack.

“Son of a…” Wrothken took out his mace. Both Knights ran at the same speed. The first one to reach Wrothken slashed at his neck. Wrothken stepped back just in time. As the Knight stepped forward to regain its balance, the other one came crashing into it. They landed on the ground in a pile. Wrothken quickly took advantage of the moment and beat one of them repeatedly until chips started flying from its head. The other Knight tried pushing its dead companion off until Wrothken slammed his mace into its hands, then into its head.

He removed a heart from each, thanking the gods that the second one didn’t have the brains to slow dawn.

The fortress was just around the corner. Like Xedilian, it looked like an old ruin. The large stone slabs were held up by marbled columns. What once were the exterior walls were now crumbled along the sides, perfect hiding places for an ambush. As Wrothken crossed the entrance, three obelisks rose from the ground, making their horrid scraping sound. Though the things were something to loathe, Wrothken looked upon them in awe. He rapped his knuckles on one of them, hearing an empty clanking sound. It was inorganic, yet it grew like a tree and produced life in a way. He snapped his fingers, suddenly remembering to crack open the Knights and remove their hearts. He eyed the obelisk, but it showed no signs of needing to be shut down. He decided to hold onto them, just in case.

He went up a few steps, through a doorway. He was met with maze-like brick walls. He stood still for a moment, listening for any tell-tale creaking or clanging. He was met with silence. He should have known. The Knights don’t wait around and plot. They mindlessly go about their business. He shook his head and kept walking.

He was directed to a flight of stairs that led him around to the back. A wooden door stood before him. That was it. Where the rest of the Knights were coming from. He took his mace out and opened the door.

He was greeted by a hallway, devoid of any sort of decoration. Blue flames leapt from stone pots along the walls. Jagged obelisks peeked out from the floors and walls. As Wrothken walked down the dank halls, he reminded himself to be on the lookout for more madness ore or some things he could sell. He smiled to himself, imagining the armor set. If there was a reason to stick around in the Isles, that was it!

It wasn’t long before Wrothken heard footsteps in the distance. Not the loud stomps of the Knights, but the soft taps of someone in soft shoes. Either some residents of Passwall were hiding inside or there was a Priest of Order getting ready to summon up more Knights. Wrothken briefly considered removing his boots. After all, if he could hear the other person, there was no way he was walking around undetected. He decided against it. It would take too long and would leave his feet exposed. Besides, the place may have been cleaner than Xedilian, but who knew what he might step in.

He tiptoed to the edge of the hallway and peeked over. He cringed at the sight of long purple robes and a pointy mask. That was no citizen. He didn’t know why he was shocked. It’s not like he was sent on a search and rescue mission. He glanced again at the Priest. It didn’t look like he was aware that Wrothken was in the hallway with him. The Priest was kneeling on the ground, his arms raised up and he was chanting. Wrothken briefly wished he had a bow and arrow. Then he wished he knew how to use one.

Real Nords don’t cower in shadows. A true Nord faces his fights head on!

He looked back at the Priest, reminding himself that this was not the time for hiding. It was the time to go for it.

Wrothken readied his mace, gripping it tightly and rushing at the Priest. The Priest got up in alarm, startled by the sudden assault. He flung out his hand, a large fireball erupted from his fingertips. Wrothken was moving too fast to dodge it. The fireball hit him square in the chest. The painful blast of heat in his face caused him to stumble for a moment. Once he got his bearings back, he was greeted with another fireball, though it missed, grazing his hair. He made a mental note to start tying it back before delving into strange dungeons.

The Priest took out a curved dagger and ran it slowly by his neck. Wrothken couldn’t see his face, but he had a feeling the Priest was leering at him. The Priest hopped from side to side, snickering. Wrothken growled a little. The Knights may have been soulless husks, but the Priests were men. This one exuded arrogance with his every move. Wrothken swung his mace, aiming for his chest, but the Priest jumped out of reach. He crouched, tossing his dagger from hand to hand. He made a nodding motion with his head, daring Wrothken to try again.

Wrothken swung his mace from side to side, overstepping. The Priest hopped behind him. Wrothken lifted his elbow and bashed the Priest in the face. The Priest stumbled, clutching his face. Wrothken could hear muffled cursing under the mask. He took advantage of the moment and raised his mace. He hesitated for a moment, before bashing his head. When the Priest’s lifeless body crumpled on the floor, Wrothken let out a sad sigh. He wondered what he would do, should Jyggalag have a champion of his own. It would be quite a battle, he knew. He just hoped it never came to that.

He looked around and when he saw that he was alone, he knelt down and searched the Priest. He felt guilty doing so, but he knew there might be something of use in his pockets. “Aha!” He said, pulling out a key and a coin purse.
He looked around. No Knights, no priests. No madness ore. He frowned.

Wrothken continued down the bare halls to a pair of doors. He opened the first one and saw a flight of stairs next to a large statue of a hunger. Wrothken crinkled his nose. Who would build a statue to one of those things? He stared at its ribs, forcing their way from its skin, the rounded, thick lips baring a barbed tongue. He shook his head. No matter how he looked at it, it was still repulsive.

As he continued into the next room, it dawned on Wrothken that he hadn’t seen any knights since he got inside. He paused, his hand heading to his mace. It was strange, especially since Xeddefen was where they had all been coming from. He closed his eyes, trying to listen for any tell tale clanking. Only silence greeted him.

Down another flight of stairs, Wrothken caught sight of another Priest. He groaned. He knelt down on his knees, squinting at the Priest. He had been in the same position as the last one, his arms raised up to the sky, his back twitching to his whole body flailed. He was speaking, but either he was speaking too low or another language entirely, because Wrothken couldn’t understand anything. Wrothken tilted his head slightly. What was he doing exactly?

The Priest gave one last gyration and cried out before collapsing to the ground. The Priest’s body glowed for a moment and an obelisk rose up from the ground. Wrothken ran over and looked down at the Priest. Was he dead?

The only way he knew how to tell was to get a good look at him. Wrothken pulled his mask off. He gasped. It was one of the people from Passwall. Wrothken didn’t know his name, but he remembered his face. The dark elf stirred slightly.

“Damn,” Wrothken spat. He knew he had to kill him. Only one could walk away and if Wrothken left him alive, the Dunmer wouldn’t grant him the same courtesy. He remembered the sight of Passwall and what it had become. He reminded himself that it could easily spread to the rest of the Isles. “Damn!”

He closed his eyes and whacked the dark elf across the head with his mace. He flung all the bits of skull and flesh from it disgustedly.




The rest of the fort was the same. No Knights, no madness ore. Not even a sword or set of armor from a previous adventurer that could be sold. It wasn’t until Wrothken reached the bottom floor that he saw what was going on.

With his mace at his side, he walked the barren halls, nearly jumping out of his armor when he was grabbed from behind.

“It's... it's you! I remember you!”

Wrothken stared blankly at him. He recognized the face of the Redguard who fancied himself mayor of Passwall.

“You remember me, right?”

Wrothken nodded.

“Yeah… You’re Mayor….”

The Redguard scoffed. “Sheldon, idiot! What are you doing down here? How did you get past the Knights?”

Wrothken lifted his mace. “The old fashioned way. What are you doing here?”

Sheldon gulped hard. He looked around and led Wrothken to a niche in a wall. Sheldon had set up a bedroll and several torches. “When they attacked, I ran from Passwall. They didn't say a word, they just started killing! The screams! By the staff, you can't imagine the screams!”

Wrothken closed his eyes, remembering the sight in the inn.

“Felas and I slipped down here thinking that we'd be safe. But, no! We landed right in the middle of them! Felas ran off with them and left me to die! Me! That ingrate! Disloyal cur! Imagine, leaving me here all alone!”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about him again.” Wrothken lowered his eyes. He felt horrible for what he did but he knew it was the only thing he could have done. Besides, if Felas was only too happy to betray Sheldon, someone he knew personally, he’d have no problem killing a stranger. “What are you still doing here? You’re going to get killed.”

“Every time I look for a way out, I get twisted around and end up back here. But I'm too smart for them. You seem to have no trouble, though. Look at you, barely a scratch!” Sheldon patted Wrothken’s armor, nodding in approval. “You'll be the perfect person to protect me!”

Wrothken shook his head. “Listen, I’m trying to shut down the source of the Knights. It’s too dangerous for you to tail me, especially since the only protection you have is that chipped sword.”

“This place is a nightmare! Knights everywhere, these priests, and whatever they've done to Felas! Listen. Those people in Passwall need me. Can you imagine how they'd ever get along if I died down here?”

Wrothken didn’t want to tell him about the fate of his town or that of Felas. “Alright, fine. But don’t jump in front of my mace if you see me swinging.”

Sheldon nodded. "I'll do what I can to help. I... I like to hurt things. Maybe I can hurt these damned knights."


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:24 AM


--------------------
Madness Helps Me Save Myself
Nemesis

Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds
We are rising together
Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings
I am yours
...Yours immortally
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McBadgere
post Jan 17 2012, 07:00 AM
Post #191


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*Applauds*...

Just read the last two chapters...Most excellent... biggrin.gif ...

Cutter is just soooo hot...I love her...She's so cute...Awwww... tongue.gif ...

I loved the trawl through Xeddefen...

That first section when the two knights crash into each other...That made me laugh that did... biggrin.gif ...

I do like a good Nord character do I... biggrin.gif ...

Excellent!...New fan alert!!!... biggrin.gif ...

Nice one!!!... biggrin.gif ...
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SubRosa
post Jan 17 2012, 05:12 PM
Post #192


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especially since the Knights of Order lacked a skeletal structure for him to fawn over.
laugh.gif But then again, since they do not have bones, there will be nothing calling to Jayred to rip their bodies apart to get at them...

I loved how Wrothken was keeping an eye out for more madness ore as he went through the ruin. Even now he still wants that madness armor to impress the ladies! laugh.gif

I loved the description of the first Priest of Order. A real pain the rear. Then recognizing the second was a good touch. It reminds us that they were once ordinary people. Well, as ordinary as anyone in the Isles is.

And now good old Mayor Sheldon. Let's see if he's any help or not.


nits:
“Which obelisk are the coming from?”
I am sure Wroth meant they

thanking the gods that the second one didn’t have the brains to slow dawn.
down I am sure.


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ghastley
post Jan 17 2012, 10:58 PM
Post #193


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Doesn't Wrothken understand that Sheldon is essential? I'm sure that's what went to his head in the first place. tongue.gif

This post has been edited by ghastley: Jan 17 2012, 10:58 PM


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mALX
post Jan 18 2012, 03:20 PM
Post #194


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ARGH !!! I was hoping you were updating Nemesis !!! URK !!! Lol.

This was a total surprise, loved it !!

QUOTE

Wrothken pulled his mask off. He gasped. It was one of the people from Passwall. Wrothken didn’t know his name, but he remembered his face. The dark elf stirred slightly.

“Damn,” Wrothken spat. He knew he had to kill him.



I loved this dungeon crawl, and what happens after the player runs into Sheldon !!! Great Write !!! Now get your butt over there and update Nemesis !!!! URK !! ROFL !!!


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Grits
post Jan 19 2012, 12:11 AM
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Yay, more Wrothken! I’ve missed him. So much to love in this update. I hope he finds some more madness ore so he can stroll back to Kvatch looking hot in his new armor. smile.gif


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King Coin
post Jan 25 2012, 02:14 AM
Post #196


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I like how Wrothken handled the first two knights smile.gif

Wrothken briefly wished he had a bow and arrow. Then he wished he knew how to use one.
laugh.gif

The Mayor! I forgot that he was down there. Awesome chapter!


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Jacki Dice
post Feb 4 2012, 06:29 AM
Post #197


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McBadgere~ Yay for new fans! smile.gif Cutter is one of my favorites too ♥

SubRosa~ Well if Wrothken needed to fly, I'm sure Shelden could provide some hot air tongue.gif

ghastley~ Lol!! I know Shelden knows he's essential! He's got the biggest head in the Isles! tongue.gif

mALX~ laugh.gif Working on Nemesis as we speak! And another surprise, but that will have to wait wink.gif

Grits~ Omg I cannot wait until Wrothken strolls back to Kvatch! That's why its so hard to write these parts! I want to get to that point D:

King Coin~ Thanks smile.gif To be honest, it's hard to work with the Knights. They're always the same :/ At least Lilitu and the daedroth was more creative


~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-nine: Escape!



With Shelden in tow, Wrothken to Xeddefen. After going down a flight of stairs, he found where all the Knights had been coming from.

“By the Nine…” He said, his eyes widening.

“What?” Shelden asked. He dropped his sword. “By the staff!”

Behind a wrought iron gate, there was a large room at the bottom of the stairs. In the center was the largest Obelisk Wrothken had ever seen. It had to be at least the size of his house in Kvatch! Surrounding it had to be at least a hundred Knights.

Shelden turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wrothken hissed.

“Out of here! You’re crazy!”

“I’m crazy? Don’t even get me started! Now are you going to run like a coward or stand here and fight?”

Shelden stuck out his tongue and turned on his heel before breaking into a run.

Wrothken ran after him, grabbing him by his collar. “Look, you want to play mayor, fine. But, damn it, I can’t do this alone!”

Shelden slapped Wrothken’s arms away. “Not my problem! You said it yourself! I’ve got no armor and this chipped sword! I’ll get killed in there!”

Wrothken growled. “Did you see what they did to Passwall? You’ll get killed if you don’t trust me!” He paused. “Do you want to relive those screams again?”

Shelden scowled at the ground. “No,” he finally said. “But what can we do? There’s only two of us and all of them! They’ll tear us apart.”

Wrothken reached into his bag, running his fingers over the collection of hearts stashed inside. “They’re only going to know about one of us. I’ll go in and do what I can.” He took his bag off and thrust it in Shelden’s hands. “In that bag I’ve got several stones. They’re called hearts of order. All you have to do is pile them onto the obelisk until it shuts down.”

“And then?”

“Then we run like we stole something. But you have to be fast.”

Shelden nodded. “Alright. It’s crazy but I guess we have no other option.”

“Good,” Wrothken said. He glanced over at the Knights. “Just wait until they’re all distracted.”

Wrothken walked down the steps, purposely making a lot of noise. Almost immediately the Knights turned and faced him. There was a collective shriek as they pulled out their swords.

Wrothken clenched his teeth hard, his wide eyes signaling to Shelden to move. The Knights quickly swarmed him, backing him into a wall. Without focusing on a specific Knight, Wrothken swung his mace around. As they jostled him about, each of them swinging, he started punching and kicking any who got too close.

They got closer to him, leaving only inches between him and the first wave. A few would fall, only to have others stampede in, eager to take their places. Come on, Shelden! He started to feel panicked. All he could see was the blank silver of the cloud of Knights enveloping him. He felt sick.

The electrical hiss of the hearts of order was music to his ears. All at once, the Knights stopped, turning towards Shelden. Shelden froze for a moment before emptying the entire bag in the obelisk.

A shockwave staggered everyone in the room. A sudden rumbling sent Wrothken’s stomach into a pit. Large chunks of the ceiling came raining down upon them as the obelisk shattered. Wrothken took advantage of the collective confusion to swipe his bag from the ground, along with everything else that had fallen from it. He clutched it to his chest as he dashed over to Shelden.

“What have you done?” Shelden bellowed, dodging what he could. “The whole place is coming down on us!”

“No, you think?” Wrothken shouted back. “Come on, we have to get out of here!”

Shelden glared. “What do you think I'm doing? I'm not sticking this close to you because I enjoy your pleasing aroma!”

Wrothken and Shelden dashed up the stairs. As Shelden wasn’t weighed down by any armor, he quickly got ahead of Wrothken. The hall seemed like a safe enough place, until rocks started tumbling down the steps. Wrothken grabbed the back of Shelden’s collar and flung him back, accidentally causing him to fall hard on his back.

“Ow!” Shelden shouted. “What was that…” His eyes widened as he saw the pile he was nearly crushed under. “Oh.”

Wrothken pulled him back to his feet. “No time to lose,” he said.

With every second that he went without getting hit by the falling fortress, Wrothken thanked the gods while cursing Jyggalag. If he had ever panicked before, it was definitely eclipsed by what he felt running through Xeddefen. Any wrong move, the slightest hesitation could cause him to be crushed to death or worse, pinned down beneath the rocks doomed to die alone under the ruins.

Worse, the Knights didn’t even seem to care. Even as they watched their own fall, they kept coming.

“Ignore them!” Wrothken called to Shelden. “We can’t waste time on them, just run!”

Shelden growled. “How can we just run with them chasing after us?”

“If they follow us outside we’ll fight them there. Just not here.”

“Fine! You lead the way -- just try not to get us killed. Well, try not to get me killed.”

Wrothken ran through an open doorway. The moment he slipped in, a metal gate slammed down, trapping Shelden behind him.

“No,” Wrothken hissed. He ran to the gate and tried to pry it open. It wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t think it’s going to open. You are the worst escort in history!” Shelden yelled.

“You had a chance to leave earlier, remember? But oh no, you had to stick around! No one listens to the one sane man in the entire realm!” Wrothken fired back.

Shelden grunted. “I’ll find another way out. Get going!”

Wrothken felt the urge to pull his hair out but he knew he didn’t have time to react.

The next floor was slightly more stable than the basement had been. He took a moment to look around and try to retrace his steps. Oddly, obelisks started to rise, though Xeddefen was on its way to rubble. He shook his head. It almost seemed to be a symbol of what Jyggalag was up to. The Shivering Isles would crumble, as Order rose above it, crushing anyone and everyone below.

He cautiously stepped forward, freezing in his tracks as the entire hall was showered in rocks. He clutched his chest. He swore he could feel his heart hammering through his armor.

Even as he walked on, a large boulder fell right next to him. He leaned against the wall for a quick second. Oh gods… He thought of how Amiable, that poor man afraid of the walls in Bliss, must have felt, everyday of his life terrified that precisely this was going to happen to him. No wonder he never slept! Wrothken wasn’t sure he’d be able to either. He definitely needed to make time to help the poor man.

He sped down the crumbling halls, tripping whenever something feel in front of him.

I’m going to die down here, he thought over and over.

The Knights of Order continued to pop up around each corner. Wrothken started shoving past them or purposely ramming them so they’d fall and get caught under rocks.

When he finally reached the surface, he damn near kissed the ground as he fell to his knees. “Oh, thank you Talos! Thank you, Mara! Thank you!”

“Well look at this, I found the easy road.” Wrothken looked up to see Shelden, smiling smugly. “How were things going down there?”

Wrothken’s mood went from so happy he’d kiss a grummite to more sour than week old milk.

“You are something else,” he said, standing up.

Shelden grinned. “I know. That’s why I’m mayor of Passwall. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got rebuilding to do. Those poor fools would be utterly lost without me.” With his nose high in the air, he trotted leisurely down the path to Passwall.

Wrothken growled under his breath. “Is it wrong I wish a Knight would eat him?” He paused. “Why on Nirn am I talking to myself?”



This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:25 AM


--------------------
Madness Helps Me Save Myself
Nemesis

Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds
We are rising together
Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings
I am yours
...Yours immortally
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mALX
post Feb 4 2012, 07:11 AM
Post #198


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From: Cyrodiil, the Wastelands, and BFE TN



*

QUOTE

"I'm crazy? Don't even get me started!


Lol, this reminded me of Joan Rivers' catch phrase. ("Don't get me started! ...Can we talk?")


QUOTE

"Then we run like we stole something.


ROFL !!

QUOTE

Oddly, obelisks started to rise, though Xeddefen was on its way to rubble. He shook his head. It almost seemed to be a symbol of what Jyggalag was up to. The Shivering Isles would crumble, as order rose above it, crushing anyone and everyone below.


Amazing insight here, I remember running like a panicked Russian Racehorse through that place and never made that connection - really cool addition there to make us think of the whole picture and not just the scene as it unfolds !!!

Awesome Write - and YEAH !! More Nemesis !!!

*


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McBadgere
post Feb 4 2012, 08:05 AM
Post #199


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Most excellent *Applauds*... biggrin.gif ...

I loved the portrayal of Shelden in this...Brilliantly done...

That bit of the Shivering Isles quest was always fun...

Bless them knights, they're so sweet!!... laugh.gif ...

Nice one!!....

*Applauds heartily*...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Feb 4 2012, 08:06 AM
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King Coin
post Feb 5 2012, 06:06 AM
Post #200


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“And then?”

“Then we run like we stole something. But you have to be fast.”

laugh.gif
Great line!

Crazy ideas seem oddly appropriate for the SI tongue.gif

Shelden grunted. “I’ll find another way out. Get going!”
As much as I dislike Shelden, I have to admire the little bstard at this.

And then he s back to his old self outside. lol! He is intolerable!


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Aravi: A Khajiit in Skyrim

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