WG - The Mystery of the Poisoned Healer Options

[Black Hand]

Seth looked up and cocked his head to the side in thought.

"She sends Earana...we take her out. Then show up looking like them. I even left the Orcs' crossbow in his grave with him...she wouldn't question its big brother at first glance...I like it. Using more of her own medicine against her..." He said looking at the sheathed hypodermic dagger.

"Then we figure out just what the hell all of this is about...Oh, that must be the purpose of this poison now that you mention it...the victim should theoretically still be able to talk...torture in a vial." he realized.

"I-I-I am both impressed by her creativity and aghast at the levels she would stoop too." He blinked, yet still clearly disgusted by the thought.

"If we can pull it off, and extract her quietly without placing innocents; especially patients, at risk I second the plan." He nodded.

He looked at the now fully-effective Maxical. "Plus, we've added one more fighter to our roster. Forgive me for seeming to lack confidence in you: You've been to the brink of death more then once since we've met, yet you've pulled yourself and the rest of us through it all."

"When you thought I was here to kill you, you could barely stand. And you still faced me as a warrior."

He glanced over at Abiene and gave her a wry smile. "You...you picked up that...weapon and you came to the aid of a friend in a heartbeat. You should feel pride in this, and not shame. Especially if you are less exposed to the world of violence than we are. You have the hands of a healer; but you have the heart of a warrior. You face your problems head on, and with honor."

His mental image of her charging forth like a Berserker: teeth exposed, saliva flying, wild look in her eyes, and giving a war cry was both inspiring and comical. Had the urn just been an axe or sword it would have been perfect. He hid his laughter regardless.

[mALX]

*

Maxical:

Eyja nodded agreement with Seth. "If it can't be inside our suite, lets take it to their sewer lair. We can access it without even entering the city, and no one will be in there that shouldn't die but us."

Maxical had come to the table at Seth's words, but spoke up after Eyja finished; the shock was evident in her voice.

"She was going to torture dearest Abiene?"

Her head turned slowly to Abiene, bravely swishing that dagger while her eye's showed dread fear and how frail she was in facing this enemy, this whole situation.

She stumbled getting to Abiene but held her tightly and whispered into her ear. "You have nothing to fear, Abiene. I will let nothing happen to you, none of us will. Remember, we have her poison, she cannot use it against you."

Maxical kept her arm around Abiene as she turned back to Eyja and Seth, the rage burning in her eyes.

"Cover me in blood and I'll lay in plain sight as if dead. If she uses life detect she'll know I live, but if she sees the Orc and Earana she'll go to them anyway to have them finish the job. I will rise up on your signal or if she realizes you are not her thralls."

Eyja turned toward Maxical. "Then where will Abiene be?"

"Under me in full chameleon. If the Altmer uses life detect, she will only see one life form and think her job on Abiene was accomplished; that her body lies somewhere nearby. Give her a false sense of security."

Maxical stopped Eyja before she could argue.

"Listen, if the Altmer uses life detect, she will know exactly where Abiene and I are no matter where you put us. She'll never believe you are the Orc and Earana if she sees our lifeforms hidden upstairs."

Eyja nodded at Seth. "She's right, she'd suspect us if she knew they still lived. What better way to hide them but right under her nose."

Maxical turned to Seth. "When we attack, if possible I'd like to keep Abiene to our backs to heal us; so the Altmer has to cross all of us to reach Abiene."

Eyja turned to Seth. "It's risky, the Altmer could decide to finish Maxical off on her way in. Maxical can take a hit well, but if this Altmer knows medicine she could put a blade right through her heart or throat."

Maxical turned to Seth. "Do you have a protection I can wear to cover my heart and throat? If she does stab me, anywhere else she hits will give Abiene time to heal me and you two can attack till I'm up."

Eyja dug in her pack and pulled out a bleached out white lambskin.

"Cover her neck with a steel plate and lay this on it, splash blood over it. The white lambs fur is thicker than Maxical's, but on quick glance it won't be discernable. Maybe we could just lay a shield over her and a mages robe covered in blood. I can stage it with the clothing to cover up any blatent edges. Then when she gets up she'll be in her armor, shock the woman."

Maxical raised her eyebrows at Eyja, knowing how much that lambskin meant to her. Eyja's eyes flashed a signal not to mention it, so she didn't.

She turned to Seth. "Just don't get any blood on my hands or hilts, don't want to lose my grip in battle."

Eyja looked at Seth. "I can make it work, but it's up to you."



*

[Black Hand]

"I'd like to think that I'm still alive because I take very little chances. Sometimes my acts come across as risky, but there is aforethought in them." He said, giving a look of concentrated thought to Abiene and Maxical.

"While I do not relish the thought of putting either of you in danger..." he started. "...you're grown women and can make your own choices. You clearly know the risks involved. Saying the decision is mine too make is a bit odd, when you've made it for yourselves."

"I do not have a problem with it, aside from my natural concerns." He shrugged. "Which should not be taken as a lack of faith in either of your abilities. I neither chide, or patronize either of you. I merely state my position in this matter." He gestured towards them with his open hand.

"It is true that Eyja and I have developed a quick rapport." He nodded in agreement to what he perceived was an unspoken observation.

"This is because we have similar backgrounds, and perhaps I have a bit of bias in her regard as she did save my life, as well as all of yours. Though, we've come this far from repaying this debt to one another, over and over...so..." He closed his eyes, as he thought it through.


He started staring at Maxical's chest and abdomen, making mental calculations then nodded as he achieved a quiet sum.

He left for his quarters once more and returned with a small pack.

Morag Tong Ritual Red Robes

"These once belonged to an Assassin in the employ of the Morag Tong. Her name was Rayne Alas. She is passed now, a few decades ago. As a farmer, not in the line of duty, a victim of time's natural passage. She left these with me in symbol of her retirement. I told her I would keep them for her to take back."

"Clearly, that never occurred. Now I pass them too you. They are the color of dark crimson. So that blood is unseen upon them, yet they blend into the shadows just as well. Within the torso, back and shoulders are sewed in bits of armor. The neck which is loose and flowing, is actually a mesh of cloth and metal strong enough to resist garottes, blades, and perhaps an arrow, though I don't know for certain one way or the other."

"The jewelry may be a bit too gaudy for your tastes, but I can tailor it to your preferences well enough. They should keep you safe from harm while you await the moment to strike."

He then looked to Abiene, and removed his left gauntlet, which revealed many rings, he removed one and handed it to her.

Marara's Ring

"The Undead can include those who suffer from Vampirism. I met one such woman, who was an Imperial in life, and jaded in undeath. Her name was Marara, and she bore this ring that is rife with an enchantment much stronger than most I've come across. It was her wish to die in a manner fitting one of her station...It includes the traits of 'Reflect Spell', 'Resist Normal Weapons' and can further increase the fleetness of one's feet. It will protect you in the moments we cannot." He offered.

"Let's get rid of this Dark Sister together." He grinned sadistically.

[Grits]

Abiene listened wide-eyed as the plan came together. It made sense to assume the assassin would use life detection. Hers was the easiest role. All she had to do was keep still and not scream.

“It would be best if each of you decided what charms or shields would help you most,” she put in. “Everyone has different native resistances, enchantments, and the like. Tell me when we get there and I’ll cast them before Maxical and I take our positions.” She would be occupied during the fight keeping shield spells and healing over Maxical. Staying with her was a major source of worry. Abiene’s daily workout was designed to make her look good naked, not to let her keep pace with an Arena-trained athlete.

Sethyas brought a robe from his personal belongings to Maxical. Abiene breathed a little easier when he described the armor hidden about the chest and throat. The thought of lying there while the sadistic Altmer stabbed at them kept making her muscles freeze. Better pee right before we leave instead of later in Eyja’s robe, she thought.

Then Seth turned to Abiene, offering a ring from his own hand. He explained its history and the powerful enchantment it held. “It includes the traits of ‘Reflect Spell,’ ‘Resist Normal Weapons’ and can further increase the fleetness of one's feet. It will protect you in the moments we cannot.”

Abiene slipped the exquisite ring onto her finger, speechless with gratitude and lingering terror over what they were about to attempt. She hoped that only the former showed. She remembered Maxical’s tight hugs and words of encouragement, Eyja’s coaching and trust in her, and Sethyas speaking of honor and a warrior’s heart. A sense of calm certainty grew inside her, not in the outcome but in the attempt.

“Let's get rid of this Dark Sister together,” said Seth. His teeth showed in a wicked grin.

Abiene didn’t trust her voice. It wouldn’t do to answer a call to arms by squeaking like a startled mouse. She lifted her chin and set her jaw to keep it from trembling while she looked at each of them in turn. Her eyes stayed longest on Eyja’s. I know what she is to you. I won’t let you down.

[mALX]

*

Maxical:

Maxical hurried forward at Seth's words and lay her hand gently on his arm.

"Eyja and I are used to just tossing ideas out before a known battle, and give reasons why we think it would work. But the decision to use or discard them has always gone to one's thoughts we respect greater than our own. That is you, Serjo Seth Velas."


Eyja:

Eyja nodded her agreement with Maxical's words.

"We only give input to the planning based on what we think the enemy may bring to the fight and what we ourselves bring. We don't know if this Altmer uses detect life, but being a mage they may. My strengths are in the shadows, but detect life would take those shadows from me as if they didn't exist. Maxical faces fights head on, but uses tricks to take the advantage from the opponent. We are just sharing our ideas for battle and how we could bring it about, but will always bow to your judgment as the wiser head."

Seth's decision was made. Weapons readied. Abiene looked terrified, but surprisingly strongly convicted to the battle ahead. She reminded Eyja of Maxical when she first began her duties for Akatosh; terrified, but wouldn't back down till the enemies were gone.

She took a deep breath. Maxical and Abiene had to survive this at all costs. She turned to Seth for one last confirmation that this plan met his will.

Seth's eyes connected with hers gleaming with the adrenalin of the battle ahead, and something else that she was trying to define when the interruption happened.

Maxical rose immediately. "Trap, ground floor." She pointed to a window. "It's Earana, I can feel her."



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 18 2013, 09:36 AM

[Grits]

Abiene cast a Shock Shield over Maxical, not sure what else they needed. This was probably not the time to strip off and get into the Chameleon robe unless there was an undead army coming with Earana. She couldn’t tell through the pink glows of the people inside the room with her.

“Should we disarm the trap?” she asked. “If we blow up the window it will be harder to seal it back up if we need to later.”

[mALX]

*

Maxical shook her head.

"The second floor windows are the only ones set to blow. The trap on these ground floor doors and windows is just a solid hit in the head with a hand iron and getting an urn full of crap dumped on them. Eyja said to make them smell, I figured that would do it."

She guided Abiene up to her bedroom. "When undead come, it is best you stay protected, locked in up here. Remember, stay out of the windows and lay flat so if the enemy is using life dectect they won't see you. I'll guard your door."



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 19 2013, 04:19 AM

[Black Hand]

"I got this." Sethyas said as he prepared the dwemer-make crossbow, pulling the priming lever back and prepped a wicked looking bolt, that had multiple barbs at its metal tip.

Eyja seemed to give it a look of 'whoah', and then commented: "That reminds me of 'The Real Barenziah' when Therris gets Berri in the Tavern on his--"

Abiene squeaked quietly, interjecting with: "Can we please keep it down while he gets this as he so gallantly offered?" with a wide-eyed expression.

Sethyas smirked at the two, leaving with a knowing glance to Eyja and commenting: "Same principle, actually. Just don't want her waking up."

He slipped into the shadows, and let Mephala's Skill wrap its way around him, seeming to slink into the darkness itself, though he would still be visible to the life detection spell.

From there he started to put out the lights, one by one, following the sounds of struggle and guttural howling from a window. Like a childhood fear, he could see nothing from behind the reflection of the window. Inching closer and closer to meet this distant terror.

But; this time he was the boogeyman in the shadows. The one who became a monster to destroy other monsters. He did nothing to slow his stride as the candelabra below the window was snuffed out, and the evening canvas of stars beneath shone through, and the very bottoms of Jone and Jode were visible from the upper portion of the window.

And nothing else was seen and had become a frantic silence...

Oh, come on. We all know what happens next! He rolled his eyes in thought, and aimed his crossbow.

As if on cue, the face of a recently deceased Altmer Battlemage rose up from the other side.

Her golden skin was now a variety of shades lighter, save her lips that were a shade of purple; almost black. Scars from the lightning strikes she had suffered ran across her face in arms of electrocution that were shades between red and dark bruising. The pupils of her eyes were now a stark white. She had a massive wound on her forehead, and seemed to be covered in something scatological.

She gave a hateful sneer, and reached for the window pane once more.

Alive or Undead... Sethyas started to think.

"I. *Hate*. Battlemages!" He exclaimed quietly.

The force of the bolt shattering the window seemed to mimic a raindrop landing on the surface of water. The bolt landed into her left eye, forcing her head back making her land four feet from where she stood.

Seth quickly reloaded, as she arose in spite of the devastation of the attack. He placed his hand on the ledge and jumped himself out, firing again as he landed.

The bolt landed in her sternum dead center, she staggered rather then fell, and continued her approach to him.

“My time away just made perfection, did you think I’d die?” she spoke in a voice that was far more masculine and guttural then what she had in life.

“You did.” He responded. “And I aim to keep you that way.”

“Was.” She smiled victoriously. “I’ve defeated death itself by becoming it.”

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 19 2013, 11:28 PM

[Black Hand]

"This was your plan? You might be cunning, but even this is beyond your skillset." Sethyas replied to the undead Earana.

"No. It was another's. It does not change the fact that I can no longer die...in any sense of the word." She said attempting to dislodge the bolt in her eye socket, only to find that it was to rigidly encased.

"So you're a Lich..." Sethyas muttered.

"Close. But a Lich is a spirit that rides from vessel to vessel. She managed to perfect the vessel itself with Guervyne Selvilo's work."

"You're a spirit haunting it's own corpse..." Sethyas realized. "A new form of Necromancy. That's what this was about. Another pitiful attempt at immortality, and a way to create even stronger servants...you're under her thrall as well, aren't you?"

"A small price to pay. Once you all are dead, I am free." She smiled.

"That's what she told you, I'm sure. You're a fool. In life, and in death. The pursuit of power has corrupted you completely. To the point of having no foresight, a limp cloth in the wind that would blow in any direction it was taken."

Earana gave a look of extreme contempt.

"Look at my face, Earana. This is the same face I held when I was thirty years of age. *I* am immortal, *you* are an abomination. I have wandered the land for over two centuries now, neither disease nor age can claim me. I gained this power not from seeking it, but by fulfilling my destiny. I'd rather had lived a handful of years in quality, then an immeasurable amount of selfish avarice that would cause everything around me to rot." He chided her.

"Even if you do succeed here tonight, and even if she keeps her word...what then? Will you stink up a tavern with your rotted corpse? Take a lover from the morgue? What bliss, what contentment, what possible purpose could you find in this state?!" He continued.

"Look at yourself." He said quietly and picked up a shard of glass to show her her own reflection.

"Look at what you've done to others. Look how things have become! Is this *really* what you wanted? Is this the best outcome from the alternatives you had? I offered you the chance to walk away! You would be alive right now! Upon all my ancestors, and the graves I've dug, you would still breathe!" He said, as she slowly walked towards him and gazed at her terrible reflection.

Her expression became despondent, and she saw the horror that was her face. She took the shard and kept staring back at the terrible sight that greeted her.

"Nooooo!" She finally moaned. "I did this...to myself." She lamented.

"You developed the plan...but you didn't think it through." He offered.

"But,...I am stuck...forever....like this." She touched her cheek.

"Not forever. The Orc who worked for you came by first, he is ashes. If you allow me, I can burn you. You'll reenter the dreamsleeve, and you'll come back as something else. A second chance. Even the gods are not so cruel as to deprive us of this. No matter the pain we've wrought, or suffered...there is release and there is peace in this." he said softly.

"Come." He said, grabbing a small barrel of torch pitch nearby.

They reentered the ruins, and Earana saw the remains of her former servant, and knelt next to it. She traced her fingers through the ash pile, and looked at the markings upon her fingertips, bringing them to a nose that could not smell.

Sethyas uncorked the barrel and began to pour it over her head, the thick mixture slowly pouring down in streams down her face and torso. She raised her head to accept the fate as though it were her redemption.

Nearing the emptiness of the cask, Sethyas started to walk away to make a trail that he could light.

"No." She said quietly. "I can do this. I need to do this."

He acquiesced, and set the barrel down. She outstretched her arms and chanted something in Aldmeris that he recognized as a prayer to Auri-El. She summoned forth two balls of flame to her hands.

The fire caught onto the pitch, and spread up her arms to her head and torso.

He stayed as the gruesome process continued. Without fear, without satisfaction. As was the way he was taught: He merely confirmed the kill.

"Rest well, Earana." He said, leaving some coin and a small belt-knife with her charred corpse.

He returned to the suite to let the others know everything was okay...for now.

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 19 2013, 11:25 PM

[mALX]

*

Eyja:


Eyja had no doubt Seth could handle Earana, and took the opportunity to cast chameleon and run to Chorrol, still disguised as Abiene. She hurried to the chapel and dispelled the chameleon before entering.

On stepping into the chapel she dropped an empty vial to draw attention to herself. The tall Altmer woman spun around, her eyes nearly starting from her head as she stifled a startled scream.

Eyja gave a little mousey shriek she had heard Abiene make a few times, then fled back through the door. She stayed visible this time, running slower than she was capable of to the gate.

A glance back showed the Altmer woman in the doorway of the chapel, the rage on her face vivid even from a distance. That should draw her in.

As soon as she passed the gate, Eyja cast chameleon again and darted back to the Wobbly suite. She immediately began digging in her pack for a black robe like the one Earana had returned from the dead in.

Eyja hurriedly dug in her pack again, this time producing a tub of thickly gelled red paint and a paint brush. First she painted a rough skeleton on the front of the robe, crossing the hands together below the skull like the robe Earana had worn depicted.

Next she began laying out her thick pastes and jars, the ones she'd used to make herself look like Abiene. Eyja wedged her looking glass so it stood up without being held, and began carefully changing the shapes of the mounds of clay like material on her face to mold her appearance from Breton to Altmer; using a scrub brush to remove the thicknesses in the cheek and jaw bone.

Maxical hurried down the steps and set to work, changing into the armored robe Seth had given her. Eyja called her over.

"You know how I do the eyes, I need your hands in here." She pulled her eyes tightly back and up at an angle till their shape was nearly matching to an Altmer's eyes. "Hold my eyes just like this."

While Maxical held her eyes in place, and without looking; Eyja grabbed a different jar and opened it. She smeared the glue beneath her eyes and lay a tiny wedge of film onto the glue.

"Hold it firmly till it dries."

She went back to the clay like material and began building an Altmer's facial structure around her own. When she was satisfied with the look she began with the makeup, making her lips thinner by drawing a dark line below her own full upper and lower lips and only applying lipstick within those lines.

When Seth walked in She stood, a full version of Earana including robe with the skeleton drawing. Only her blue-green eyes and slightly meatier build gave away the difference.

"Boo!" She grinned at Seth.


*




Maxical:


Maxical watched Seth lead Earana to the old ruin behind the inn, once again feeling the pain of one she had considered a friend, knowing she was dying a second time. The pain wasn't for this form of Earana dying, but the memory of the first time.

She cast to unseal Abiene's door when she saw Seth returning, and tapped on it before entering. "It's safe now, Abiene dear. Seth has killed Earana again. We have to work fast now. I'll need your biggest loosest robe of light color to use."



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 19 2013, 10:10 PM

[Black Hand]

"Boo!" Eyja grinned at Seth.

Seth smirked just a bit. "Careful now. Get too convincing and I'll have to take *you* out to the ruins next."

He reloaded his weapon, and prepared several daggers to be unsheathed by unlooping the stay guards.

"Alright, see what you can do to make me even uglier." He said sitting down in the chair and letting Eyja get to work on his face.

She masterfully whipped out several jars of putty and paints, and worked to give him a broader jawline and more pronounced brow. Finishing up with a pair of lower tusks that looked like she may have plucked them from an Orc. Or a horker.

"Now, those aren't from the flute Abiene had, is it?" He joked and she turned a shade of red.

She put them in so they fit over his existing teethline, and the protrusions were pronounced.

"Haw teh heff em ah seh-pohsed to tok like dis?" He chuckled.

"You're not. Just be the strong, silent killer type and this should work..." Eyja smiled and then began to work on the splitted wound down the middle of his face, complete with a shoddy threadwork to make it convincing.

"Buff teh Ork whuff mithing one fide uhf hiff fafe." He said admiring the work in the mirror.

"That's why your going to hide that missing side of the face with a hood. He didn't have red eyes either, your disguise is even more easy to see through than mine."

Seth nodded and applied his leather hood so that only the lower left side of his face was easily visible.

He grunted something that seemed to intone: "How do I look?" while holding his hands out and moving his face slowly from side to side and spinning around.

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 20 2013, 12:28 AM

[Grits]

Abiene gathered her supplies while chewing her lips bloody with nerves. Sethyas had been battling all manner of horrors for untold years before she met him. Worrying over this one would not help him at all, she tried to tell herself. Perhaps the ring that might save him was presently on her finger, and the scroll that could whisk him from danger was in her pocket. He did not live this long by handing his only hope for survival over to some Breton girl he met yesterday.

She was not convincing herself. Abiene stopped her hands and said a prayer to whomever she thought might listen for his safety. Her words to Arkay had a bit of an edge. They had trusted in his Blessing, and yet still Earana stalked them.

Scolding the god of Life and Death cleared her mind. As for the prayers, whether or not the Divines listened at least she felt a little better.

Once sealed inside her bedchamber Abiene went to work. The dresser top served as a worktable. She opened her pack and emergency bundle. Potions were heavy and vials could break, so she hadn’t brought many. But she didn’t know any healer who traveled without a few potent and highly portable alchemical supplies. She quickly found what she needed.

Lady’s mantle grew commonly on the Gold Coast. Abiene had fond memories of gathering expeditions on the hillsides outside Anvil, the ocean breeze in her hair and sun on her shoulders. Thankfully the good Sisters of nearby Gottlesfont Priory cultivated the plants in their garden and seeded in clearings throughout the adjacent woods. The leaves could be picked here in County Chorrol in the right season, one need only take a walk. She lifted the packet of dried leaves out and placed it on the dresser.

Lavender grew mostly in the Nibenay Basin, but it was readily available from most merchants thanks to its many uses. Abiene’s supply came from Seed-Neeus. She mostly used it in her tea and bath water. Thankfully she had not had time for relaxation on this trip, so the tightly wrapped bundles were intact. She set the lavender sprigs next to the Lady’s mantle leaves.

Abiene did not travel with any alchemy apparatus, and she would not repay Seth’s generosity by invading his privacy and borrowing his gear. She arranged her improvised apparatus with a little smile of triumph.

Any kitchen should have a mortar and pestle for crushing roasted beans and spices, and this one was no exception. Hearth cookery required specialized equipment like the three-legged frying pan Abiene had liberated to serve as a calcinator. And for a retort she needed something in which to heat a liquid while swirling it to drive off the steam. She placed the coffee pot on the dresser beside the frying pan, grateful that her simple healing potions would not require gases to be collected through condensation.

Abiene was an indifferent alchemist but she was a competent one. It took little time to grind the sprigs and leaves into powder. She cooked it to ash in the frying pan, regretting the smoke in her sealed chamber. A handful of frost magic cooled it enough so she could mix in some water. The slurry went into the coffee pot warm, then she heated it further in the flame over her palm. More frost magic cooled the liquid. She set the coffee pot aside to settle before decanting.

She undressed and laid her clothing on the bed, undergarments tucked neatly into her folded top out of habit. Her feet slid into the enchanted slippers as if they had been made for her. Then she considered the Chameleon robe.

It might be awkward to walk around invisibly while they were preparing to leave. Abiene chose her loosest nightgown and pulled it over her head. One tug on the ribbon at the neckline and the garment would fall to the floor. That was why she favored this type of bedwear. In this case it would facilitate a quick change. The robe could go over her head as the nightie dropped without a fuss. Abiene possessed no modesty, but it seemed courteous to assume that others might. Her wardrobe issues solved, she laid the Chameleon robe over the foot of the bed ready for departure.

Now she had time for uncomfortable thoughts as she decanted the potion into empty bottles. She stepped over her threshold each day with the reasonable expectation that she would make the return trip. What preparations should be made in the event that this time she did not?

She had no property to disclose to anyone, all of those matters were still administered by others on her behalf. Her loved ones knew that they were loved. But there was much that she had never said.

Dwelling on her regrets would take the heart out of her, and this was no time to invite weakness. And what could she say in a letter? ‘I should have fought for you, but please disregard this if I live?’

Maxical spoke through the door as she tapped on it. “It's safe now, Abiene dear. Seth has killed Earana again. We have to work fast now. I'll need your biggest loosest robe of light color to use.”

Abiene pulled a clean but well-worn healer’s robe out of her pack, handed down to her by a stout Imperial priestess from the chapel. She had brought it along in case she had felt too sick to stand a skirt binding her at the waist. Though Seth’s potion had purged her with alarming force, it had not caused any lingering discomfort.

She grabbed Maxical in a spontaneous hug as she exited her room. “Sorry about the smoke. Here, how about this robe? And look, these bottles are full of potions.”

Abiene tried to bite back her worry, but that lasted all of one second. “Is Sethyas injured? Did you see him? Does he look all right?”

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 20 2013, 12:30 AM

[mALX]

*

Maxical:


"Eyja healed him. Be prepared when you go downstairs, you will see Earana and Eyja may have Seth turned into an Orc by now."

She grabbed the robe and hurried to the kitchen.

"Clear the table off." Eyja said quietly.

Maxical hurried to remove everything quickly. Eyja lay an oblong shield on the table and signaled Maxical to hold Abiene's robe over it.

Eyja held it firmly down, shifting the shield underneath till it was in the position she wanted it. "Right here, Seth." She dropped a tiny dab of red paint in one spot.

Seth grabbed a plain dagger with a short blade from his chest and stabbed it through the robe and into the shield so it stuck.




*


Eyja:


Eyja quickly went to work with the red paint; making it look like blood around the stab wound. She mixed a bit of blue in with the red and dribbled it right where the blade went into the fabric, leaving the look of a deeper red in that area. It looked remarkably like a deep stab wound on a real person when she finished.

"We need to hurry, our assasin will be here any minute. I went in disguise as Abiene and taunted her to follow me by acting terrified of her."

She turned to Abiene. "Where is your chameleon? We must hurry, sweet. Finish your potions. I have empty vials in my pack, fill as many as you can and divide them among us. And while you are in my pack, grab as many vials of Restore Magicka as you can, just leave me one. Those are for you, so you don't run out. Draw from Maxical if you need to and can in combat."

Eyja pulled something from her pack and turned back to Maxical with a grin, holding it out.

Maxical gaped. "A dog collar?"

Eyja shook her head. "Not just any dog collar. A thick wide dog collar with metal plate guards. Rena Bruiant was walking her dogs when I entered Chorrol a little while ago. She will find one of her dogs missing its collar when she gets home. I was in chameleon, gave it a bit of dried meat while I removed it."

She buckled the dog collar on Maxical's neck and tucked her beloved sheepskin over it, then began painting a slash across it with the thick red gel paint. When she was done she went down the center with some of the blue and red mixed paint, making the wound look extremely deep.

Eyja mixed up some yellow and white paint with a dab of the pure red and placed a few tiny drops in the center of the deepest part.

"EW, it looks like a real slit throat!" Maxical wrinkled her nose as she looked in the looking glass.

"Don't lay too near any fire, I don't want this 'blood' drying." Eyja wedged it carefully around the dog collar, and turned to Seth to point out her handiwork.

Maxical's eyes got large. She bopped Eyja and held up her hand.

"Shh! Trap went off." She pointed to the door to the room attached to the suite.

Seth cleared the evidence of their disguises from the table and locked his chest while Eyja grabbed Abiene and pointed to a spot midway through the kitchen. She barely whispered "Down."




*


Maxical:

Maxical lay on top of Abiene and made herself go limp, her legs in an odd twisted position. She kept her eyes barely slit open but perfectly still as if frozen in death.

Eyja spread the shield and robe over her, quickly wedging it around so it looked like Maxical was wearing it and that she'd been stabbed right through the heart before her throat was cut; the hilt of the dagger still sticking up from her chest. She poured the rest of the red paint out in a puddle around Maxical's throat. She and Seth hurried down the corridor toward the stairs, but stayed in full view.

The sound of another trap going off, then another and the door creaked open. The only thing entering was the rank odor of urine and feces and a tall pink outline.

"You idiots, this one is still alive!" She reached down and twisted the blade. She stepped over Maxical, scanning the upper floors. "Where is the body of that Breton?"




*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 20 2013, 02:06 AM

[Grits]

Abiene gaped at the spectacle of Earana and gro-Gonk working at the kitchen table, but there was little time to appreciate Eyja’s masterful disguises. She dug in the pack for potions and vials, portioning and quickly distributing them.

“Best to take a few now so they keep working while you fight,” she said, downing two long-acting magicka potions herself.

She cast the spells they had agreed upon, then she called upon Akatosh and Zenithar to bless them all with luck. If they acquiesced she couldn’t tell. She was too busy kicking her nightie onto a chair while she yanked the Chameleon robe down to notice.

Maxical motioned that a trap had gone off, but Abiene hadn’t heard it. Eyja grabbed Abiene’s glowing invisible arm and pointed her to a spot on the floor. Seconds later she lay with Maxical sprawled on top of her, trying not to choke on the smell of fresh paint. That Altmer won’t smell anything but chamber pot, Abiene realized. Maxical is a genius.

Now she heard traps and opening doors. All she could see was pink life signs, but the voice told her what she needed to know. “You idiots, this one is still alive! Where is the body of that Breton?”

Abiene lay still, oddly calm. Her worries had gone. There was only this moment.

The tall form stepped over them.

She felt Maxical’s muscles bunch in readiness though she didn’t move.

A board creaked under her ear as the intruder’s second foot came down.

Abiene lay limp so no motion would betray them. Who was she talking to?

[mALX]

*

Maxical:

Maxical eased up in total silence, holding up the robe and sheath so it wouldn't rustle and alert the Altmer.

She reached alongside Abiene's thigh for her longsword; she had already unsheathed it at the first trap going off so she would be armed without the sound of drawing it alerting the Altmer once she was inside the suite.

What Maxical hadn't counted on was Abiene instantly scrambling up behind her. The Altmer spun at the sound.

Her breath whistled on the sharp intake of air, and her eyes bulged in fixated shock at the floating bloody robe with the dagger sticking out over the heart; the still gaping wound on Maxical's neck as she tossed the robe to the floor and revealed herself fully armored.

Maxical's sword was drawn, moving in an almost hypnotizingly slow figure eight in front of her.

The Altmer's speed was too fast at drawing her own shortsword, Maxical guessed she had boosted her movement with a spell.

Maxical moved in a semi-circle to keep Abiene behind her, raising her sword high and staring at the Altmer's sword hand as if targeting it. The Altmer fell for the trick, raising her own sword to block the move she was sure was coming.

Maxical barely feinted with her sword as if making her move. As the Altmer's blade flew up to block, Maxical grabbed her own sword with both hands and in one swift movement swept the Altmer's ankle with enough force that the sound of cracking bones filled the kitchen. She heard Abiene moan from behind her.

The Altmer's blade caught her shoulder a glance, bringing blood but not deep enough to tear the ligaments. Maxical sprang back and parried the Altmer's blade up till she was back in position with Abiene behind her.

The Altmer was giving her a smug look. "Burn, cat. Burn and writhe in pain, you mangy beast. The wound you inflicted was great, but the scratch I dealt you will make you pray for death."

"What, this scratch? What are you, on Skooma or something? I scratch myself this bad bathing."

Maxical suddenly realized what the Altmer was expecting. She must have poisoned her blade with Eyja's potions, thinking it was the acid in those vials.

She grinned at the woman and gave an obviously sarcastic whine. "Oh dear, this hurts so bad. Waaa, Mommy help me."

She raised her blade again, once again watching the woman's sword arm as if targeting it. This time when she feinted the Altmer lowered her blade to block her from sweeping her ankle again.

"BWAAHAA!" Maxical swept her sword arm in a powerful blow while it was extended; leaving a deep cut and crunched bones. It would be useless now. Maxical was barely nicked on the thigh.

"Geez, how dumb do I look? Did you think I'd be stupid enough to try the same trick twice? BWAAHAA!" Maxical sprang in a semi-circle again, keeping Abiene behind her.

The Altmer's face had lost its smug look as the horror of realization was beginning to sink in. Her poison didn't work, the loss of her sword arm; and the sudden realization that her thralls were not defending her.

"Get over here!" She screamed for them, glancing back repeatedly as she tried to parry Maxical's blade left handed now.

"Let's hope your left hand is more skilled than your right." Maxical taunted to distract her while Seth and Eyja moved in.

They moved forward, coming out of the shadowed area of the corridor and into the full light of the kitchen. The Altmer's last glance at them produced a strangled gasp and shriek.

The red lava of Seth's eyes was clearly visible now, his blade gleaming its threat and aimed at the Altmer. She spun in panic and came up against Maxical's sword. Eyja moved to her side, drawing her own weapon out.

Eyja grinned through Earana's face. "Now we will see who will burn, won't we?"



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 20 2013, 04:59 AM

[Black Hand]

He could feel his complex raging inside his head, he wanted to perform every unspeakable manner of torture upon this...Necromancer...this 'Assassin' he'd learned or even just heard the vaguest notion thereof. But, she had much to answer for.

I became this monster,...to fight monsters like you.

His steps were quick and silent, and he was nearly a blur in the few steps between them.

One hand grabbed her mouth and chin, and held her with an incredibly solid strength, twisting her around, and bringing her against his cuirass, trapping her in place. Her hands came up to his forearm, grasping them more in surprise than defending herself.

The other brought the blade he'd prepared especially for her into her side slamming it in with focused fluidity that matched Abiene's skilled surgical hands.

She arched her back and screamed into the black leather of his hands, creating nothing but a barely audible murmur.

He held her there for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for her poison to take it's effect.

How many heartbeats had passed, how many grains of sand fell down the hourglass? Time slowed and stretched too aeons for each measure of it.

Finally, he felt her go limp...mostly. He unhanded her and she fell into a heap of writhing agony. Her body seemed to be convulsing and her face twisted into agonal expressions. Her eyes became glassy and looked far-off.

Sethyas quickly covered her up with a blanket to spare the girls the sight. This was why he would never use such a wicked poison.

Death...as final and as real as it was, should be swift and painless.

Retribution was not revenge, and torture was not punishment. No, those were attributes of cruelty.

But, retribution and punishment could be traits of the just. They could also be twisted to serve the needless cruelty of those who lacked empathy.

He placed her onto the chair, and secured her as best he could. He felt her vital signs. Elevated,...very elevated, but still quite stable. She would live for now.

"I know you're in pain." He said taking off the tusks and pulling back his hood. Her hate flowed forward; first mixing in, and then overcoming her pained expression in a scowl of malice.

He grabbed a damp cloth and wiped a portion of his face.

"What I don't know...you're going to tell me." He said, sitting in front of her and showing her the vials from her lair. "Or we're going too see how much of your own medicine you can take."

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 20 2013, 06:05 AM

[Grits]

As Sethyas grappled the Altmer Abiene reached out for Maxical. Her spell easily closed the surface wounds on Maxical’s shoulder and thigh. Abiene chased it with the spells to cure disease and stop the effects of poison in case the Altmer had tainted her blade. From her talk it seemed she had used the potion that Eyja had swapped for her poisons, but with Maxical’s magical condition Abiene didn’t want to take any chances.

“Are you all right?” she asked Maxical. The Khajiit’s eyes were looking at her but not focused.

I’m still in Chameleon, Abiene realized. She yanked open the front of the robe until the enchantment broke, bringing her into view again.

“Did you get hit?” Maxical asked.

Abiene shook her head, turning to stare behind them. Pink glows were everywhere on all levels of the inn and tavern. She could even see the shapes of horses outside. There could be an approaching army amongst the inn’s guests and staff. “Where are the others?” Abiene asked a little wildly. “I can’t tell what’s happening!”

Maxical gave her a little focus shake, then gripped her shoulder in a steadying way. “Seth and Eyja were the others, remember? It’s all right, you’re safe.”

Eyja spoke, her tone low and commanding. She exchanged a series of gestures with Maxical. The two moved to secure the doors again. Abiene realized that apart from Maxical’s taunting and the blades’ song the whole event had passed in near silence. She took off the life detection ring and placed it on the table. Clarity returned as the distracting glows faded.

Sethyas sat opposite the bound Altmer, wiping his face. His features emerged from the disguise while hers became a hateful mask through the pain.

“What I don't know...you're going to tell me,” he rasped. “Or we're going to see how much of your own medicine you can take.”

Abiene drifted up beside Seth without realizing her feet had moved.

The Altmer’s eyes snapped to Abiene. “You!” she hissed. “Little worm. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”

Abiene knelt beside Sethyas and placed her hand on the Altmer’s knee. She knew this woman’s skills must far surpass her own. No doubt she had spent more time practicing Illusion and Mysticism than Abiene had been alive. But the stars had given Abiene the keys to a mortal’s energies at the moment of her birth, and learning to use them had become her calling. She drew on the spells from the school of Restoration to even the score between them.

At her first touch the Altmer’s pain slammed into Abiene like a physical force. Her involuntary gasp was answered by scorn from the Altmer. Abiene ground her teeth over a whimper and began casting.

The older woman did possess tremendous skill in the ways of mystic energy and illusion. Abiene’s Absorb spells let her enter the Altmer’s mind and use her expertise against her. Thus fortified by the Altmer’s own experience, Abiene Dispelled all effects and fortifications that the Altmer had cast upon herself. She finished with the spell to curse her magicka with Silence.

Abiene pulled away as the woman’s back arched in renewed agony. She thrashed against her bonds.

“She can’t use her spells now,” Abiene said to Seth. “And I took away her defenses.”

Abiene staggered when she stood but regained her balance. A black rage had ignited in her heart, and it threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to grab the woman’s sweaty face and relish the pain burning through her. Let the assassin choke on Abiene’s anger while she tasted the woman’s growing fear.

Her eyes went to Sethyas, searching for an anchor. Instead she found he rode the same tide, poised on the edge of utter darkness.

“I want to know why,” she whispered.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 20 2013, 06:23 PM

[Black Hand]

“I want to know why,” Abiene whispered.

The Altmer kept her silence and glared in return.

"I can see the hate in your eyes." He said pointing two fingers at them. "Hate is a concentrated form of anger. A tumor, a callous. Anger...is the other side of fear. You are afraid. Of everything. You call upon your hate to give you strength to save you, yet you'll find it is the reason you sit there now."

"I'll give you one chance to see reason and perhaps it may work with you as it did Earana...Oh yes, she was here. She's gone now. Let me burn that abomination you turned her into. Despite your hold over her, she resisted and took her destiny into her own hands. She passed because it was her choice. She showed me her true power in her final moments." He said calmly enough.

"I do believe the Lady asked you a question." Sethyas said placing a hand upon Abiene's shoulder gently, and show the Altmer the eyes that didn't blink in the face of death.

"We'll start with something simple. What is your name...your real one." he commanded.

She defied him with her silence. He produced the blade again and hovered it over thigh. "Perhaps you think that I'm not deadly serious about all this. Plus it seems you developed this poison very well, I think it would be possible to pump you full of it, and you would still be alive. Shall I test my hypothesis?" He asked her.

"Kelkemmenar." The name escaped through her gritted teeth.

"Kelkemmenar." He repeated. "Number fifty-six. An old name. Back when the Altmer still named themselves in progression of family members numbers." Sethyas stroked his chin.

"And by old, I mean four times older then what most mortals consider old." He squinted his eyes. "You're from the second era." he vocalized his analysis.

She seemed to widen her eyes just a bit, to which Sethyas gave the slightest of smiles.

"Oh yes, I'm not just some brute. You'll find I've been around as well, not so much as you however." He replied, and his hand returned the blade to a resting position.

"Now then, Kelkemmenar: Why?" He grated.

"Why poison this innocent? To gain her position is obvious. We figured that much out. What you desired the position for is also obvious: To use the knowledge to further your Necromantic powers. No, I'm afraid the core question is: What would motivate you to take it this far? What was your endgame. Whereas Earana was simply mad for power and let that blind her, you're far more subtle. You did think this through. Which is what I find to be most admirable and disturbing about all this."

The Altmer stared back at him for several seconds, seeming to try to find an equilibrium with her pain and her reason.

"If you think any of this had anything to do with her on a personal basis, you're quite mistaken. I don't consider her to be anything but an insect. An insect that got in my way. Do you stop and consider your own superiority to a dragonfly? Or do you merely continue forward with your own goals?" She explained.

"Then your association with the Dark Brotherhood...the Necromancers?" Sethyas folded one leg over the other and blew out a plume of smoke from a hackle-lo he lit.

"Merely means to further my true goal. I needed the knowledge of Mannimarco's Adherents. Anyone can mumble some incantations from a book over a corpse. Mannimarco's work is...transcendent. As far beyond the basic perception of Necromancy as is Selvilo's work in Regeneration is to Restoration." She recounted.

"Now imagine: Armies of the Undead raised again. And again. And again. And again." She said with a sick, prideful smile.

"And that is just scratching the surface, I'm afraid. Nor even my true intention. A way to finance my work and offer protection...though I admit I was hasty with my subjects you two so cleverly set yourselves up to mimic." She shook her head.

"Then....what is the endgame?" Sethyas said.

" How much do you know about the Missing God?" She asked.

"Lorkhan? The Doom drum. Your kind reviles him in your religion for losing their status as et'Ada; the Ancestral Spirits." Sethyas replied, cocking his head in interest.

"It is said that Arkay was once a man. Not quite mortal as the rest of us are, as he is the one who apparently came up with the concept. Life, Death, and Rebirth. Why?" She smiled.

"And you've heard of the Nordic tales...'What Happens When You Shake The Dragon Just So' who stole from them a natural long life to but six years, but then reclaimed it and shook the negative years onto the Orcs..." She explained.

"...and of Auri-El? Who led the original Aldmer against the armies of Lorkhan in mythic times, vanquishing that tyrant and establishing the first kingdoms of the Altmer, Altmora and Old Ehlnofey. He then ascended to heaven in full observance of his followers so that they might learn the steps needed to escape the mortal plane."

Sethyas eyes moved carefully to her lips as she spoke.

"I seek to end this insane cycle." She said quietly and smiled.

Sethyas eyes narrowed. "You're a Thalmor." he accused.

"One of the first." She confirmed.

Abiene still shook slightly underneath his hand, and didn't seem to understand what was happening. The Altmer were among the Eldest Civilizations in Nirn's history. Their civilization was a work of wonder. They were also the ones most in tune with magicka and Aetherius, the source of all magicka.

That attunement had a dark side however. Given that the world came from that great beyond, they held a cultural memory of that former state. They wanted to go back into the womb, as it were. The Thalmor were a small but outspoken group of Altmer within the Summurset Isles. They could be likened to a political party, but one that was too extreme for even among the most severe of Altmer.

They openly called for the genocide of Mankind, and the Superiority of Merkind. They sought what they thought was the destiny of the World: To end it, so that all may return to a state that in their eyes held the ultimate meaning.

Even the Dwemer had followed this creed: refusing to believe that they were anything less than Divine Spirits, and Sethyas suspected that had led them to their sudden extinction.

"You're insane." Sethyas shook his head. "How many others have followed your line of reasoning and failed miserably. You are not a god, and you will not transcend to their place."

"Insane? I'm merely eliminating Necromancy as a possibility. As any good scientist would." She said calmly. "As you noticed, I've been around a very long time. I've learned that there are many possible avenues to the goal we seek. Necromancy both defies and mimics Arkay's Law, thus disqualifying it as a valid concept. Death is an illusion in more ways than one. If a thing can be bent, adapted and outright ignored, it is not an Earth-Bone, a Law of the Ehlnofey." She explained, naming the very laws of physics that governed their world.

"It is true I am not a god; at least not right now, but we fell from our station because of Lorkhan's trickery." She said with a bit of anger.

"Just as you, Dunmer, fell from your station as an Aldmer for throwing your lot in with the Daedra. But even you must know,...must sense, on some level how your very nature is superior to these Mannish races...and that thing." She glanced with a special contempt towards Maxical.

Sethyas smacked her hard in reaction. "Do not insult them again." he whispered, pointing at her as a trickle of blood fell down from her lip that curled up into a smile.

"You have no compassion, no empathy. You are lost." He shook his head.

"No." She corrected him. "I am not lost. I am not under the sway of a mere emotion, you....you are quite lost. Blinded by these petty passions and needless squanderings."

"So...there you have it. The 'why'. The 'endgame'. My work is necessary. It will free us all, send us back to where we came. All I do, is follow the destiny of Nirn. We are the only sphere, the only plane[t] that has a concept of: End. Limitation. Finite."

"The destiny of this world is too end, what exactly, pray tell comes after that?" She raised an eyebrow.

Sethyas could not answer the question, which she took as a victory and smiled.

"Abiene...." He started. "You have your answers. You've seen the emptiness of her spirit, and the narrow path of her darkened mind. You know what she is capable of and what she seeks."

"This person is beyond redemption, indeed believes that she has no need of it....we are the ones who are lost too her...I cannot let her go, and she cannot be imprisoned. There is only one alternative in her case..." He trailed off.

"Oh yes, I saw this one coming..." Kelkemmenar smiled. "My death here will grant you no victory. I am but a symptom. A few spots on the skin that betrays the deeper cause beneath. We are coming. Like a great wave that will destroy you all...we defeated a Daedric Lord on our own lands....what are you?" She stared defiantly.

"Nothing." She whispered harshly.

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 20 2013, 10:02 PM

[mALX]

*

Maxical:

Maxical threw her pack to the floor and dug frantically in it, finally removing a huge square item wrapped in a blanket of fine cloth.

She lay it carefully on the floor and unwrapped the folds of cloth to reveal a huge tome with ancient writings engraved on a leather cover so old it looked like it may crumble if touched.

Maxical stood back from the tome and glanced up apologetically at Eyja and Seth as the tome opened itself and the pages began turning; freezing them into position as if paralyzed in mid action.

Eyja's mouth was open, her hand raised. Seth's eyes still glittered into those of the Altmer before him. Abiene's face was frozen in disgust staring at the woman.

A lich materialized in the midst of their statuesque figures, its robe and cowl of thick velvet in a deep cherry-black with high shoulder wings; the soul gem hanging on a chain around his neck glowed red, a twin stone to the Chim-el Adabal that had once been the center stone of the Amulet of Kings.

"Mannimarco, I beg your presence that I might negotiate for the soul of Gils. Please, Your Grace."

The glowing blue eyes took in the frozen faces before him. “I see you have brought me several interesting souls, my dear friend." His skeleton mouth never moved, the voice was more of an eerie vibration in the air than a sound.

“Souls? OH! Er, no Your Grace; these are not mine to deal with. Just the one tied up in the chair about to be killed. She seeks your power and immortality; wishes to be a god. She is to die anyway..."

"My dear friend, you still worry about good and evil, but they are manifestations of the same thing; power.”

"I admit it is at cost to me. Do we have a deal?"




*



Mannimarco leaned back, pressing his skeleton hands together in an arch that made them look like a spider exercising on top of a looking glass. He waved his hand and the Altmer woman was released from her paralysis; though the others remained frozen.

Mannimarco leaned over her, and Maxical saw the fright in her eyes as she realized who was standing before her. The blue glowing eyes bored into hers, reading her every thought through every barrier she threw up to keep them secret; reaching them all.

"My friend says you seek power as great as my own; yet you are tied in a chair, and by mortals. Your greed for power brought you to my door many times, have you learned nothing from the Master? I seek power, and so I acquire and study those who have some degree of it."

The skeleton teeth bared at her in a humorless grin. "You have only achieved power over the weakest. To learn true power you must become a part of me, and to do that you must vow your alliegence. Are you willing to do that?"

Maxical turned, not wanting to watch but unable to stop herself as Mannimarco's skeleton hand clasped the Altmer's hand that was barely able to raise in the vow for the bindings around her. A sizzling hiss and vapor rose where her hand touched his, and her mouth opened in pain but no scream came out.

The skull mouth opened to a gaping chasm and covered her mouth, pressing her head back hard till her neck almost snapped with the pressure as he sucked the soul from her.

Maxical was unable to wipe the horror from her eyes, though she'd seen it enough times now. It still always struck her with a sickening in her stomach, and she hoped that feeling would never go away. She didn't want to become inured to that side of necromancy.




*



Mannimarco straightened and turned back toward her. "You have your deal, my dear friend. Your husband's soul will be returned to you."

"Thank you, Your Grace. Will I...that is, will you be taking your tome now?"

"Yes, my dear friend. Our negotiations are finished now. Will you swear the vow to receive his soul?"

Maxical smiled at him and shook her head no. "I have learned well from you, Your Grace. I do not swear vows anymore."

He reached out with one skeleton hand toward the center of her chest, but didn't touch her. What looked like a silvery spider web left the tips of his fingers and entered her chest, filling her up inside with a feeling of joy she never thought she'd feel again. Gils.

The pages of the tome began fluttering as Mannimarco's image disintegrated before her eyes, the tome in the process of closing itself as the paralysis left the others and they began looking around.

Mannimarco was either inside the tome, or he was the tome; she'd never known which. Without a sound it evaporated from its place on the floor, leaving only the blanket of fine cloth behind.

Maxical picked up the cloth, her eyes falling guiltily on the Altmer woman's now vacant expression, the burns around her mouth and on her palm. Guilt, but mixed with the joy of knowing Gils' soul was free now. Inside her, but free from any other's use.

She stood back to let Seth finish the job he'd started on the Altmer.



*


Mannimarco:


http://i434.photobucket.com/albums/qq67/Ma...-1196848157.jpg



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 20 2013, 11:47 PM

[Black Hand]

Something had changed. The faintest change of the flicker of the candles. A hair almost imperceptibly in a different place. Inhaling when she had been exhaling....

Sethyas looked down at Abiene. She still had the look of disgust upon her face. He looked over his shoulder at the duo guarding the scene. Eyja didn't seem to notice anything, but then again, she was still dressed up like the Altmer so her normal facial expressions would be muted or altered.

His eyes met Maxical's. She held relief, fear and remorse at the same time. Something had happened. Something that she alone knew. He blinked slowly as though to signal his silence. The Khajiit was beholden to forces far greater than he knew, or cared too. She had openly declared that he would be no match for them, out of concern.

He believed her.

"Leave. Now." He commanded quietly to them all.

He stood up and gazed down at Kelkemmenar, while Abiene quietly acquiesced falling into the supportive arms of Eyja and Maxical. She stopped for a moment, and looked back with a quiet despair in her eyes. Sethyas returned her gaze. The shadow had fallen over his eyes once more, and the Necromancer's fate was clear.

Leave. You cannot see this.

We hold the same skills, possess the same knowledge. Yet, we are opposites. Yet, we perform our professions for the same reason.

To protect.

I,...am your Black Hand.

The three left, and Eyja closed the door behind them leaving with her own final glance.

The door slammed shut, and Sethyas went too work.

_______________________________________________________________________



An hour later, he returned through the back door quietly as he'd left. There was a pot of coffee on, and he let the smell drift into his nose as he poured a cup. Letting the rich scent overpower the smell of flames and viscera.

He closed his eyes for a moment as if in silent prayer.

"It is done." He said simply.