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I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens |
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Lena Wolf |
May 21 2024, 12:02 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Hearthfire, 3E437 - Survival When Lena lifted the trapdoor to Fort Farragut and started descending the rope ladder, Lucien was bandaging his wounds. There had been an attack, the Black Hand had sent an assassin, a Silencer perhaps, judging by the skill. Lucien won, but only just. He managed to stop the bleeding, but he needed to heal before he could do anything else. His fort had been safe so far, he could always open the gates and let the Dark Guardians enter, should the need ever arise... He would need to be watchful. Hearing the trapdoor open made him jump. His first impulse was to cloak in chameleon and see who it was without being seen. Soft boots and leather trousers soaked in dark blood, iron breastplate... it was Lena, badly wounded as well. She looked pale like a sheet, grey even, gaunt, her eyes feverish, unseeing... She inhaled sharply and immediately started climbing up - she smelled him, of course - she was leaving. Alas, her strength failed her and she fell. "You must leave now!" She said, her voice sounding distant and hoarse like he never heard it before. Her face and arms were covered in blood, both red and black, her neck had several cuts with dark liquid oozing out... "Leave now! I cannot hold it for much longer..." She crawled away from the ladder to give him space, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. "Stay away for half a day at least, I shall be gone by then one way or the other..." No, he could not allow that. He hoped he had enough blood to survive, he lay down on the bed and waited. He watched her eyes glaze over, with every human expression gone. She pulled herself up, she could not stand. She could not see either, he thought, she bumped into things that were in the way, but her senses led her directly to him. He felt a sharp pain in his neck... "They say it only hurts the first time," he thought. "It hurts less than a dagger... and I should know." He closed his eyes and hoped he had enough blood to survive. ... It only took a few minutes and Lena released her grip, falling to the floor. Lucien rubbed his neck, he only felt slightly light-headed. He got up and went about removing blood-soaked armour from Lena's unconscious body. She had a lot of cuts and she was cold. He wasn't sure whether an ice bath would do any good for a vampire and decided against it. Instead, he cleaned her wounds and prepared a healing dressing, adding a touch of lavender and motherwort, to sleep and remember nothing. He moved her to his bed and cleaned up the floor. His own wounds caught up with him by then and he too fell asleep on a rug by the fire. ... Lucien's sleep was light. He heard movement in the room, he looked up and saw Lena thrash in her sleep. "The wraith," he thought, it had to be. He could not help her fight the wraith, but he sat next to her anyway, checking her dressings. Most wounds seemed to have closed, he replaced a few bandages, and soon Lena calmed down, the wraith defeated. It must have been hard, for her face looked grey. "Well then, they say it only hurts the first time," he said softly. "Shall we put it to the test? I think you need more blood." He moved her gently and lay on the bed next to her, his neck exposed. A minute later he felt her fangs pierce his neck. "I felt it, but pain it was not," he reflected, closing his eyes. This time he was certain he had enough blood to survive. This feeding left Lucien weakened and sleepy, yet he still wasn't worried - he'd experienced loss of blood before and knew that he was in no danger of dying. He wanted to get up and go back to the rug by the fire, but found himself too weak for that, with his wounds taking a toll as well. Lavender in Lena's dressings made him sleepy, and he gave in to that, staying next to her. He awoke several hours later realising that Lena was no longer cold as ice. She was still cold, but the air no longer froze around her. He checked her dressings, replacing a few, she was doing better. He checked his own dressings and replaced some as well. He still needed rest. He looked at the rug by the fire, shook his head and went back to bed, pulling a blanket over both of them. Lena slept without movement. "They say vampires don't twitch in their sleep," he looked into her face. "Perhaps. Except when they have to fight the Wrath of Sithis," he smirked, settling down. "Sleep well, Wolf." He put his hand on her shoulder and felt a heartbeat. When Lucien awoke again, he found all his wounds closed and all Lena's wounds healing nicely. She was still asleep, and he didn't expect her to wake up considering how much lavender he put into her dressings. "She will sleep for half a day at least," he thought. "And I should soon be going." He did not want to be there when she woke up, he'd rather she didn't remember what happened. He looked into her face - she was still pale... too pale, perhaps. He laid out her armour, it was damaged but not too bad, it was mostly just covered in dried blood, nothing more. A large ruby amulet dropped out of a hidden pocket. "Oh wow - that's... I see." He looked at her again and knew that she needed more blood if she were to survive what came next. "Come on then, let's hope your instincts kick in..." He lay on the bed again and placed her head on his neck. She breathed in sharply and bit it without waking up. This time Lucien couldn't get up. He still felt he was not in danger but he certainly could not leave. He was feeling the chill of the loss of blood, so he pulled a blanket over himself and Lena in order to keep warm. She was warm, he noticed. Her heart was beating. "And they say vampires' hearts don't beat," he thought. "Hers didn't beat at first, but look at her now... I wonder..." He hugged her and fell asleep. When Lucien woke up next, Lena was twitching in her sleep. "She'll wake up soon," he thought. He got up and started getting ready to leave. He took a few steps and felt dizzy, his wounds were hurting too much and he felt weak. "I am not going anywhere today," he shook his head. "There's only one thing for it - watch and wait." He sat in the darkest corner of the room waiting for Lena to wake up. He didn't have to wait long. Soon she sat up looking around, trying to remember what had occurred. She could not smell him, there were so many other scents in the room. Lucien sat cloaked waiting for her to leave. No, she didn't remember a thing. She got dressed, left him a note, tucked the Amulet of Kings into a hidden pocket and left for the Imperial City to crown the late Emperor's son. "Good luck to you, Wolf," Lucien said when she was gone. "Hope to see you again." He got into bed and fell asleep as both his wounds and his blood needed to heal and recover.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 21 2024, 10:40 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Hearthfire, 3E437 - The end of an era Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City. He entered Mundus - they were too late to crown the last Septim as the Emperor and the Dragonfires weren't lit. But Lena felt it was no reason to give up, and Baurus agreed - Baurus, the one Blade who didn't resent Lena her vampirism. "The Emperor trusted you, he saw something in you," he shrugged when Lena asked why he kept treating her nicely. "The Septims see more than us ordinary folks. I trust the Emperor's judgement." It did imply that all the other Blades did not. On the day when Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City, Baurus found Lena in the turmoil of battle. "We cannot close all these Oblivion gates!" He took her aside. "There are too many. I think Mehrunes Dagon himself is coming." "I agree," Lena nodded. "That idiot with the amulet wanted an official blessing of the Elder Council before putting it on... so instead of lighting the Dragonfires while he still had the chance, he had me escort him to the Elder Council... Can you imagine?! Does the man ever think about anyone but himself?!" "Well, he is a Septim, so keep your voice down," Baurus looked around. "Septims are known for their stubbornness. We'll just have to deal with it." "Do you have a plan?" Lena looked at the hordes of daedra pouring into the streets from the many Oblivion gates. They seemed to be going towards the Temple of the One, not bothering with pursuing mortals who ran for cover. "The population was warned over and over to hide in their houses or in the sewers in case of an invasion," Baurus was watching the streets too. "It seems to be working. So we can focus on Dagon." "Speaking of which... Here he comes!" A giant stepped out of an Oblivion gate, his axe aimed at the Temple. "He wants to destroy the Temple!" Baurus cried, knocking an arrow. "I don't know if this will work... but we should try!" The battle was epic indeed, Dagon seemed invulnerable. Yet whenever someone hit him hard, he staggered, unable to attack. "We should pull him over!" Baurus shouted. "He will fall and we'll have a chance of going for his head!" "You must get me to the Temple!" Martin suddenly stood next to them. "I have a plan!" "What plan?" Lena squinted at him. "It's too late for the Dragonfires." "You'll see," Martin scowled. "I don't have to explain anything to you. I am the Emperor." "Almost but not quite," Lena turned away, knocking a poisoned arrow for Dagon. "Can't you see - we are busy." "You'll have to take him to the Temple," Baurus said to Lena, his voice practically covered by the noise of the battle. "He'll do something stupid, no doubt, but getting him killed will be worse. We'll pick up the pieces afterwards, as always." Lena rolled her eyes and turned to Martin. "Follow me, Your Majesty," she said dryly. "Don't fight along the way and keep close. Why are you not wearing armour again?" She didn't wait for a reply and pulled him into an alley. "Why are we skulking about?" He protested. "The Temple is that way, we should take the shortest route!" "We are taking the shortest route," Lena retorted. "The one with the fewest daedra along the way. I am here to keep you alive but I am no necromancer! So try not to die prematurely!" The way with fewest daedra was still challenging enough, but eventually they made it to the Temple with Martin still alive. He ran to the altar just as Dagon smashed through the roof... "An immortal can only be killed by another immortal!" Martin shouted and Lena realised it was his explanation. "I summon Akatosh!" And then he did it - he broke the Amulet of Kings. A huge shock wave went through the Imperial Isle, rolling on to the furthest corners of Tamriel, Lena was certain. "What are you doing?!" She shouted. "We do not need another Dragon Break!!!" But it was too late, Martin stood by the altar, heavenly light streaming through him. A moment later he turned into a flaming dragon and attacked Mehrunes Dagon. "Bloody Dragonborn!" Was all that Lena could say. The dragon was of course effective against the giant Dagon, but she could not stop thinking that Martin had lost his nerve and did the one thing an Emperor must never do - break the Amulet of Kings. "Oh... that is worse than I thought," Baurus ran in and stopped, watching the dragon topple Dagon, with both of them turning to stone. The Oblivion gates collapsed and the city guard finished off the remaining daedra. The war was over. "What are we supposed to do now?" People were coming to see the statue of the dragon. "We have no Emperor, no Dragonfires and no Amulet of Kings to protect us! What will prevent the daedra from invading Mundus again?" "I just don't think about it," others would shudder. "The Elder Council will handle it sooner or later..." ... "I suppose it isn't as bad as that," Baurus ordered another mug of ale at the All Saints tavern in the Imperial City. "The era of the Septims has finished, and with that Akatosh himself put a new seal around Mundus to protect us from future invasions." "If you believe such a thing," Lena smirked, drinking deeply from her own mug of ale. "Nah, of course not, Assassin," Baurus grinned. "But at least we survived." "Assassin," Lena smiled. "That's what you said when we met back there under the Imperial Prison..." "Seems it was a lifetime ago..." Baurus nodded. "But I was right, wasn't I? You had it in you right from the start." "You are not supposed to know it, really..." Lena looked at him sideways. "You know how it is..." "I know exactly how it is," he nodded. "I also know what is going on... If you need any help, I am often here... Just don't tell Jeoffre, he's... well... just don't." "I don't need to talk to him ever again!" Lena scoffed. "I don't blame you," he smiled. ... The Oblivion gates seemed to have all but vanished. Stray daedra were still seen in the countryside here and there, but overall peace was restored and life went back to normal. Lena was still facing the Wrath of Sithis every time she slept, and assassins were still ambushing her on a regular basis, but overall her life felt like a breeze compared to the last year or so. Lucien's life however was only getting harder. The Black Hand sent another Silencer after him, and that time he came off barely alive. Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut and he literally fell through the trapdoor, not able to control his movements. Yet he recovered and resumed his search for the traitor. Anvil was the key. "You need to trust your apprentice," his mother told him when he came to visit her at the chapel - she was a Priestess of Dibella. "My apprentice?" He looked up at her in surprise. "The young Wolf," she smiled. "A bit too young for you just now, but time tends to correct such things..." "What..?" He was taken aback. "No! She is..." "She touched your heart," Irene Lachance looked at him seeing a young Novice of Dibella. "I know you, my son." Lucien shook his head and looked away. "She is remarkable, true," he admitted. "But she is my Sister... my apprentice... all right, I'll accept that," he nodded. "And right now she and I are both being hunted by our own Brotherhood, and so far it's been only getting worse..." "Your father tried to spare you such a fate, that is why we left Morrowind and he's been staying away," she said wistfully. "Don't think for a moment that I don't miss him... I won't live to see him return, I don't think..." She looked away, brushing off a tear. "But you... your life should be long, like his. Take care not to die too early." "Mum, don't talk like that." Lucien took her hand. "I have no intention of dying. And neither should you." "Not yet, no," she smiled at him. "Just promise me not to rush into marriage again, wait for the right woman." "That I can promise," he replied, taken aback. "Marriage is really the last thing on my mind right now... Sometimes you surprise me, mum..." He gave her a long look trying to figure out what brought that on, but she only smiled and didn't explain any further. ... "Trust my apprentice..." Lucien heard his mother's words in his mind again. "Well, I suppose we could call her that. And here is something for her to do..." He noticed a dock hand put a scroll into the barrel mentioned in Lena's last contract as the next dead drop. "What's that lad got to do with Dark Brotherhood contracts? Perhaps I should have a word." He followed the dock hand to the nearest tavern and watched him order a large mug of ale. "Mind if I join you?" He sat next to him at the bar. "Didn't realise you were a fisherman." "Fisherman?" The dock hand looked at Lucien with incomprehension. "What are you on about, man? I ain't no fisherman..." "No? I saw you put some fish into a barrel just a few minutes ago," Lucien smiled. "What's the catch today? Haddock or cod?" "I... What???" The lad rubbed his eyes but the ale was already making him see double. "What's it to you?" "I like fish, is all," Lucien shrugged. "It's alright, I'll go and have a look for myself, if you won't tell me." "I got no clue what it is, honest!" The lad finally realised that the man in a black robe sitting next to him was not a mage from the local guild. "I can't even read well enough! Talk to the lighthouse master, it was all his idea!" "You think he's got fish?" Lucien smiled. "Well, you might be right, you know..." "The basement..." The lad stuttered. "The lighthouse has a basement..." That was as much as Lucien managed to get out of him, so he left him to his ale. He walked over to the barrel outside but found it empty. "Not good," he thought. "They saw me..." His mother's words sounded in his head: "Try not to die too early..." Quite. He should leave Anvil, and quickly. "Take this to the Champion of Cyrodiil," he picked a card with a view of the Anvil lighthouse from a range at the Black Horse Courier office. "Got to join in the congratulations, right?" He joked with the clerk. "It isn't every day that we get saved from a daedric invasion!" He wrote with a florish "Congratulations to Our Saviour!", signed "LL", paid his fee and saw the clerk toss the card into a large sack marked "Imperial City". "She's due there for the ceremony of awarding her the Order of the Dragon," the clerk explained. "Fear not, The Black Horse Courier never loses anyone's mail!" ... Shadowmere was a remarkable horse. Not undead as some thought, she was in fact one of the black horses from the Cheydinhal stables. But nature had given her eyes with a red glow and made her faster and quieter than most horses, and so legends arouse around her which Lucien found amusing and never tried to deny. Shadowmere could outrun almost anything, moving swiftly and silently through the woods, always returning to Fort Farragut without the need to be directed by her rider. It was that ability of his horse that was saving Lucien's life again and again, as the attacks by the Black Hand were getting more and more frequent. "Just how many Silencers do they actually have?" He wondered trying to outrun three assassins chasing him across the Imperial Reserve. "Let's try a diversion." He directed Shadowmere towards a group of ogres making camp by a cottage in the woods. "That's odd..." He looked back at them. "But convenient!" The ogres were too slow to catch Shadowmere but fast enough to block the way of the three riders in pursuit. He escaped this time... He didn't always have ogres coming to his rescue however. More often than not Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut barely able to stay in the saddle, and sometimes even lying across it. On one such night he could barely see the trapdoor, he opened it with the last of his strength and dropped through it. He saw movement in the room, but couldn't get up or resist. "That's it, I die too early..." he thought. "Forgive me, mum..." Perhaps the new era was not meant for him.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 22 2024, 09:12 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Frostfall, 3E437 - Cards Lena kept receiving ridiculous amounts of mail. Everyone seemed to want to congratulate the new Champion of Cyrodiil, or to meet her, or to get acquainted, or solicit her patronage of their shop, or, or, or. She instructed the Black Horse Courier to keep back the mail in their office and not try to deliver it to her in person, unless the package was sent by a premium service. She knew that the Blades and the Mages Guild would use it, and she didn't expect anything else of importance. The Blades never contacted her again, the Mages Guild did call her for one or the other assignment, but otherwise she seemed to have been left alone. In particular, there was no word from Lucien, and after a while she started to worry. It is for this reason that she didn't get Lucien's card until a while later, when she finally took the time to go through all the fan mail accumulating at the Black Horse Courier. She was to investigate Anvil then, in particular the lighthouse. "But why use such an uncertain and insecure method of communication?" She wondered, turning over the card and kicking herself for not checking the fan mail earlier. "He must be in trouble. I should see to him first." She didn't know how exactly she could "see to him" as he was still her Speaker and it was not her place to "see to him" in any way... and yet she felt that the circumstances justified a breach in protocol. She went to Fort Farragut without delay. As soon as she descended the rope ladder, she knew that something was wrong. The room that Lucien normally kept very tidy, was in disarray, with clothes, weapons and potions out of place and the alchemical lab a mess. Some of the clothes seemed to have been ripped into strips, too. "He's being hunted," she realised. "He's on the run... What do I do..?" With all the mess around, it still looked like Lucien kept coming back to the fort, and when Lena found no evidence of it being compromised, she decided to simply tidy up and refill his supplies, brew some potions, restock the cupboards... She couldn't think of anything else to do. Between Borba's shop and the Mages Guild, she got all she needed, returning to the fort for an extended session of alchemy. She was barely in when she heard the trapdoor open - Lucien was returning home. She stood up, ready to apologise and explain her presence when she saw him fall, not able to stand. He seemed to have noticed her though, turned towards her, tried to get up... but he could not. "This is bad..!" Lena rushed to his aid, but he had already blacked out. Things were much worse than she had thought. When she removed his blood-soaked clothes, she realised that many of the wounds weren't fresh. The hunt had been relentless, and he had not been taking enough time to allow the wounds to heal before going out again. Lena blushed to the roots of her hair thinking of how she wasted precious weeks simply because she could not be bothered to check her mail often enough. "He could have been killed in the meantime," she swore at herself. "How could I be so careless..?" But lamenting it wasn't going to help, and so she took a deep breath, steadied her hand and proceeded cutting out necrotic tissue from some of the festering wounds on Lucien's body. She knew it would hurt, but she didn't think he would notice, considering the amount of pain he must have been in already. Finally, she bandaged him up and moved him to the bed, making sure to add lavender to the dressings to prevent him waking up too early. "Let's just hope he won't be fighting the wraith as well this time," she watched him, but his breathing was calm. ... Lena decided not to leave Fort Farragut until Lucien woke up and she had a chance to change his dressings. She busied herself brewing more potions and set up a stew, only leaving briefly to fetch coal and firewood from a disused passage by the city wall. And there she saw it - three assassins were clearing vermin, they were a distance away and hadn't seen her yet. "They are going to have a run at the Sanctuary," she thought. "I've got to stop them." What was she thinking, exactly? There were three of them and one of her, and unlike them, she wasn't even properly armed or armoured... But she didn't think of that. She was a vampire and a mage, and she was going to press home her advantage. Standing behind a column and out of sight, she summoned a wraith and shot a frost ball at one of the assassins. He spun around, gasped and leaped towards the wraith. The others weren't surprised - dark disused passages often housed undead, and in fact they were battling some zombies already. Lena's wraith backed off, leading the assassin past the column where she was standing. It was too easy - she slit his throat from behind. Noticing their comrade fall, the other two assassins became more careful. "There's someone here," one said to the other. "That wraith had been summoned." They quickly finished the zombies and turned around, walking slowly towards Lena. "Careful now, one at a time," she told herself, allowing them to come close. When they were nearly upon her, she summoned a clannfear, cast invisibility and ran towards the other end of the corridor. The clannfear shrieked, jumped and rammed one of the assassins, but the other assassin shook his head and ran towards Lena instead. He could not see her, she was sure of it, but the corridor only had two ends, and he simply deduced her maneuver. She stepped further back and felt her shoulder ripped by a zombie... "She's here!" The assassin cried, seeing Lena's invisibility cloak dispel. "Forget the clannfear! The mage is here!" Although the second assassin could not very well forget the clannfear, he stopped trying to kill it and focused on evading it instead, hoping it would be dispelled soon enough. They had both seen Lena now, as she was forced to fight the zombie. "Not good," she quickly looked around, twisting away from the zombie that tried to grab her. "What was I thinking?!" Casting invisibility again, she jumped towards one of the assassins, not trying to attack him but instead trying to shake off the zombie. It worked - the zombie switched its focus engaging the assassin. "What now?" Lena wondered. "Another wraith? Or perhaps something more exotic?" She grinned, ran back to the front of the corridor and summoned a lich. The lich appeared behind the column hiding it from view of the assassins, one of which was fighting the zombie and the other was trying to locate Lena. He thought he had seen a spell being cast and moved towards her, but the lich had already summoned a skeleton that ran towards the assassin. "A skellie?" He grinned. "Why, that is too easy!" Perhaps he had been expecting a novice skeleton cast by beginners, but this was a skeleton guardian, with a much better sword and a power to knock out through force of impact alone... The assassin reeled, his armour colouring red. "What the..?" He was surprised, but quickly collected himself, ready for a counter-offensive. "Forget the skellie, go for the mage!" The other assassin shouted, seeing what had occurred. He was still battling the zombie and could not help. "The mage, right," the assassin redressed himself, now trying to avoid the skeleton's attacks and looking for the mage instead. He ran past the column and faced the lich. "Is that... Is she a necromancer?" He was taken aback for a moment, then pulled out his silver sword and struck the lich. "Arrhhhh..." The lich let out a hollow sigh but recovered and shot a spell from its staff in response. The assassin staggered and dropped to his knees, his strength suddenly failing him. "The lich is a summon!!" The first assassin bellowed, having finally killed the zombie. He ran towards his friend, helping him up. "The mage must be here somewhere! We must find her!" The lich shot another bolt of pain from its staff and vanished. Lena had no more magicka for an advanced summon, she had to keep some in reserve for invisibility... She lunged at one of the assassins, breaking her cover. The fight was brief but her tactic gave her an edge and she landed a few hits before jumping back to avoid getting wounded herself. The assassin wasn't dead, but after his fight with the zombie the extra wounds made him weak. Still, it was two against one. "No where to run now, mage!" The assassin got up and the two of them started walking towards Lena, their swords extended, blocking the corridor and backing her into a wall. "No more summons? Why, getting tired, eh?" They taunted her. Indeed, summons were out. She was wounded and the fight with the zombie before that stunted her magicka flow. Zombies were cursed. No more summons... but perhaps... Searing pain and overwhelming weakness hit one of the assassins, his blood seemed to boil. "What was that?" He wondered, watching the other assassin land a blow on Lena, yet she did not seem to be hurt. Red mist engulfed him as he fell to the ground, he saw Lena circle around him, absorbing the mist, resisting the blows from the other assassin, even lunging herself with a cut or two of her own. Yet she seemed to be growing weaker too, despite all her efforts the two of them would still prevail somehow, he was certain. Gathering all her strength, Lena leapt at the one assassins still wielding a sword. He was prepared to block, but there was nothing to block, for Lena was not wielding a sword herself. Instead, she grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him against the wall, then buried her fangs in his neck. She was hungry, she drank in big gulps, and soon the assassin fell to the ground. She let go of him and got up. Both assassins were still alive but unable to move or fight. Their wounds were severe, they were no threat to the Sanctuary any longer. The first one propped himself on an elbow, looking at her in the dim light of the passage. "You are Wolf, are you not?" He said with an effort. "There's a contract on you as well." "I know," Lena nodded. "Brother." She paused, looking at them both. "I won't kill you two, you might still survive. We've lost too many Brothers to this madness already." She turned to leave, then changed her mind. "You've seen what a vampire can do," she spoke again. "Think well before visiting the chapel to cure that souvenir I gave you to remind you of this encounter... You've got three days to make up your mind." Then she finally walked away. "Thank you, Great Uncle, that was most effective," she said under her breath, climbing back out into the daylight with firewood under her arm. Back in the fort Lucien was still sleeping. Lena added logs to the fire, stirred the stew and resumed brewing potions. Her feeding in the passage came in handy, although it did dull her senses somewhat. She was engrossed in her alchemy and didn't hear Lucien wake up. ... "I seem to be still alive," it was the first thing that Lucien thought when he woke up in his bed in Fort Farragut. His whole body was hurting, he was sure he hadn't sustained quite so many wounds... But wait... someone was waiting for him there, was there another struggle? Then why was he not dead? He tried to sit up, but it was too painful, making him grunt. He tried to pull himself up instead, he had to see what was going on... "Be careful, or your wounds will reopen again," he heard Lena's voice as she approached. She helped him sit up, propping some pillows behind his back. "You need to be watchful, Speaker," she smiled. "Someone could have been waiting for you in your fort." "And someone was," he smiled at her. "Thank you." "No," Lena shook her head. "You cannot continue like this if you are to survive. You need to make sure your wounds heal before getting new ones." "Who am I to argue with the Champion of Cyrodiil," Lucien grinned. "Did you get my card?" "I did," Lena nodded and blushed. "Just a few days ago... I was ignoring my fan mail." "I should have known," Lucien laughed, cringing at the pain. "It isn't that urgent. Anvil is the key." "The lighthouse." "You understood it then." "I shall go when you can stand up," Lena nodded. "There's been another attempt to Purify the Sanctuary today." "It won't stop until we find the traitor." He fell silent, and Lena got up to bring him some stew, then insisted that he should rest, that she would be fine on the floor. "Vampires don't feel the cold," she shrugged. "Our hearts don't beat." She adjusted his pillows and added some logs to the fire, then returned to the alchemy station to prepare more dressings and remedies. "You don't fool me," Lucien thought, falling asleep. "My apprentice..."
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 22 2024, 08:30 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - Time to die Lucien's trip to Anvil some weeks previously appeared to have spurred on both the traitor and the Black Hand - attacks on Lena and Lucien became more frequent still, and the Sanctuary was being invaded again and again. The hunt was relentless. Lucien ventured another visit to the Sanctuary, this time during the day, hoping to see his assassins, whoever was still alive, and may be boost their morale a little, since there wasn't much else he could do. He went through the Black Door in the abandoned house, avoiding the well and hoping that it would have been sealed anyway. It was. "Who goes there?" Gogron greeted him, his axe raised - he was on watch. "You won't get past me!" "Hello, Gogron," Lucien said, trying to sound cheerful, or at least calm, and failing on both accounts. "Speaker!" Gogron stopped, strained to look at Lucien, and only lowered his axe after some time. His face was swollen and he wore a bandage over the eyes. "Forgive me, I cannot see very well," he said, grinning. "Got a cut over my face... But no matter! I can hear the vermin... No one will get past my axe!" "I have no doubt, Gogron," Lucien patted his arm. "How are things?" "Dire," Gogron was serious now. "Everyone's wounded, one way or the other... Not one of us is at full strength. But we are all still alive! I can hardly believe it myself. Ocheeva's strategy proves most effective..." "That is good... You need to stand strong... We are getting close to finding the traitor, which means things will get much worse from now on." "The final stretch then," Gogron nodded, his face set in resolve. "If I fall... It's been an honour, Speaker." Lucien went to the dormitory wing and found several assassins in bed, bandaged up. Some could not stand, but, like Gogron said, everyone was still alive. "Borba has been our life line," Telaendril told him. "She's been leaving supplies in the abandoned house... even after we ran out of funds." "Borba surprised me," Lucien nodded. "Said it was time to show her colours... You must look out for each other and try to stay strong." "We do that, Speaker," Telaendril said softly. "It's good to see you... to know that you're still alive." "The worst is still ahead," he squeezed her hand. "Remember how you tried to kill me when I came to you with my offer?" He smiled. "You were good... very good. Better than our assassins that were sent after you... what? three, four times? And you improved since. There is no better archer in the whole of Tamriel, Telaendril." She smiled and blushed, and Lucien thought that perhaps he should have been praising his assassins a little more often - they did look up to him, after all. He went around the room and spoke to each of them, saying something personal every time. "You are our mage," he said to M'raaj-Dar. "Perhaps not a healer, but I know you have some vicious spells," he grinned. "Do not hold them back." "Oh, I don't, Speaker," M'raaj-Dar grinned back. "And if all else fails, Khajiit will tear them into shreds with his claws. Khajiit never gives up... not even in death - this one's ghost will come and help, should the body fall..." Ocheeva was in the hall when Lucien came out of the dormitory. "You took a risk coming here, Speaker," she looked sternly at him, then smiled. "But we are glad to see you. We are all still alive, somehow... Gogron tells me the worst is coming next." She became serious and nodded. "You are getting close to catching the traitor, this is good. Try not to die now... The Sanctuary will fall with your death." "Stay strong, Ocheeva," Lucien touched her shoulder. "Remember our training... Everyone can be replaced. Should I fall, you will be the Speaker." "I'd rather not," she sighed. "But I'll do what I can for as long as I live... however short it may be." They stood in silence for a little while, Gogron watched them from the other end of the hall, his hearing was superb. He nodded to himself and straightened his back. No one would get past his axe while he was still standing. Vicente was in his room. Lucien noticed how gaunt his face was, pale with a shade of grey - he was famished. "I stay here to reduce the risk for everyone else," he said. "I have not been feeding... not because Borba stopped delivering blood," he waved his hand at a row of bottles, "but because of the powers that come with the hunger. I prefer to feed on the enemy," he smirked, but his eyes were sad. "On our Brothers... I hope this madness will end." "We are close, Vicente," Lucien nodded. "Do what you have to. Survival is key." Lucien stayed a bit longer, telling Ocheeva and Vicente what he discovered in Anvil, and that Lena would go there next. "When she finds the traitor, she must bring her report to the Listener," Ocheeva pointed out. "You cannot be the one to deliver it since you are a suspect yourself. The Listener will verify her findings, I am certain he won't just dismiss them... It will cause a delay but it has to be done. During that time the Black Hand will move against you." "How do you know this, Ocheeva?" Lucien was taken aback, but there was no suspicion in his voice. "Deduction," she shrugged. "I am not the traitor." "Ocheeva is right, that will be the most dangerous time," Vicente nodded. "Everything points to it." Lucien nodded, looking somber. "We'll do our best." He got up to leave. "This may be the last time we meet... if so, tell everyone - the honour has always been mine." ... Lena's investigation of the Anvil lighthouse did not yield any clues to start with. She tried asking around, but being a vampire didn't help and people simply refused to talk to her. The mages at the Guild weren't turning her away as such, but Carahil was visibly boiling with rage every time Lena entered the building - she was strictly opposed to any form of undead, vampires included. As a result, Lena tried to stay away and had no where to sleep. She would usually curl up behind the chapel, trying to stay out of sight. She had to feed often to keep her vampirism down, and she felt guilty for using beggars when she could not find smugglers or bandits... But finding the traitor was more important to her, and she had to keep fit to do it. One night she found a bedroll behind the chapel where she used to sleep, there was a note inside: "With Dibella's blessings". Lena looked around, she thought she saw a priestess' robe behind the trees. "Thank you!" she said, but didn't try to follow. After a week or so in Anvil, Lena started noticing someone shadowing her. She felt she had to shake them off, or better yet kill them, and she could not do it in town, so she mounted her horse and rode leisurely East. When she was between Kvatch and Skingrad, she was attacked. They started by killing her horse while she was on it - the horse collapsed, trapping Lena's leg under its weight. The blows came thick and fast, but Lena was still stuck, trying to free her leg... her iron breastplate protected her heart but it would not save her life in itself... "Should you die, do try to rise again," she suddenly recalled Lucien's words, said in a jest, no doubt - the idea was not to die. "You cannot kill me - I am a vampire!" She shouted, finally pulling her leg from under the horse's body. She jumped up, a dagger in each hand. She could not block or cast any spells that way, but that was not her intention. She spun in place, her daggers extended, slicing her attackers who did not expect such a move. She was bleeding herself, but it only fueled her rage. "I smell your blood, I smell your fear!" She screamed, twirling between them again. Two attackers in dark leather armour, the Brotherhood armour... They froze for a moment, but quickly recovered from their surprise, closing in on her from the opposite sides, silver swords in their hands, silver swords with a fire enchantment. "We came prepared, vampire!" One of them cried. "Take that, foul beast!" Their swords really hurt. Lena dropped one of the daggers freeing a hand to cast spells - vanish and try to escape, she no longer had any hope of winning. She vanished, but her boots were filled with blood and were leaving bloody footprints on the ground... "Not every vampire can rise..." Lena thought. "Not if killed with a silver weapon... Forgive me, Speaker, I failed..." She ran but her attackers pursued her, she heard their footsteps catching up... then there was a sudden cry and a thump - a fall, she figured. Perhaps he tripped on a root or something. She spun around and lunged at the other attacker, may be she still stood a chance... But his sword was quick and he parried, giving her a cut on a thigh. She stifled a scream, trying to ignore it, jumped back, readying a spell... she was not dead yet... But the assassin was skilled, he lunged at her with all his weight, knocking her to the ground, his sword poised at her neck. "Time to die..." she thought, expecting the final blow. ... Instead of the burn of a silver blade cutting her throat, she felt the warmth of a hand checking her pulse. "Vampires have no pulse, I forgot," Lucien shook his head, wondering how to determine whether Lena was still alive. He had been on his way to Anvil, not having heard from her in two weeks after she left, so he thought she might have needed a hand. He saw the attack from far, and wasn't sure what he was seeing - if those were bandits attacking a traveler, he was not going to intervene. "The Imperial Legion is supposed to be patrolling the roads, not spend their time sipping ale at roadside inns," he scoffed. "I've got enough of my own troubles." But when he approached, he realised that those were no bandits... He shot them from a distance, they were probably still alive, but they moved no more, and his priority was Lena, not some unfortunate Brothers who got the curse of this contract. He pulled her free from the assassin and removed her breastplate thinking to massage her heart. "Err... Does that even make sense?" He stopped. "I don't know a thing about first aid for vampires...." He looked at her wounds and noticed that some of the cuts were still oozing blood. "Still bleeding... Does it mean she is alive? Let's hope so... Well then, bandage the cuts, I suppose..." ... Lena felt someone touching her neck searching for a pulse. "Vampires have no pulse," she thought, "but I am not dead." However, her wounds were severe, she could not even open her eyes. The person pulled her from under her attacker, removed her breastplate, placed his hands on her heart and gave it a push... then stopped, realising that it was futile. He bent over her, checking her wounds... His scent was bitter and sweet at once... Lena's heart gave a jolt. ... Lucien didn't know what to do but decided to bandage Lena's wounds and give her some time to recover, hoping that she wasn't dead. He ripped up his shirt into strips and used up every last drop of a healing solution he had in his pack. "I need to be better prepared," he thought. At least, a shirt was not imperative to wear under a robe. "I could not have ripped up my robe for strips," he reflected. Eventually Lena opened her eyes. Lucien was sitting by the fire, trying to brew a simple potion with aloe vera and some other herb... it wasn't a lab, but it would do. "Thank you for saving me... again... Speaker," Lena managed to say in a small voice, she was still very weak. "You live still!" He bent over her. "I could not tell... but I hoped..." "You can never be sure with us," Lena smiled. "Not dead, not alive..." "Shush now, drink this," he brought a cup of aloe vera tea to her lips. "It's not a potion but I hope it will help." Lena drank and the warmth of the liquid spread through her body. She closed her eyes and slept. ... When Lena woke up a few hours later, the night had fallen. She smelled roast - Lucien had killed a boar. He evidently prepared to camp there for a while, having refilled his skeins with water too. "You look pale," he said, having examined Lena's wounds. "I think one of the Brothers is still alive... perhaps he's got enough blood to sustain you." "I don't want to feed on our Brothers," Lena objected. "They got that contract..." "You don't have a choice," Lucien looked her in the eye. "The boar will not be enough. It will dawn soon." He was right, of course. Lena got up with difficulty and walked over to her attackers, both lying a short distance away. One was already dead, the other still lived. He looked at her as she approached, but did not resist when she turned him over, exposing his neck. "Forgive me, Brother," she said, sinking her fangs into it. She took it all, massaging his heart after it stopped. He died in her hands, his life feeding her existence. But she had no choice, besides he would have died anyway, most likely. She returned to the campfire, now able to sit unaided. Lucien was slicing up the boar on the spit, carving its flesh where it was ready for eating. He used lotus leaves as plates, and Lena smiled at that. "Thank you, Speaker," she said. "Thank you for coming to my aid again." "Call me Lucien," he looked up. "Please, these are no ordinary times... And stop thanking me." He looked away and Lena thought that he wanted to add something but changed his mind. "Tell me about Anvil." Lena told what she had discovered, which wasn't much. "I could not get into the basement of the lighthouse," she said. "Not yet, anyway. The lighthouse master doesn't have the key - he said that the tenant insisted on taking every key to it, and indeed I couldn't find any keys anywhere. I couldn't pick the lock either, not even with magic... Then I thought to watch the door until it opened, but someone was shadowing me, and I tried to lose them... and ended up here." "You were right to lead them away," Lucien nodded. "We'll have to try again, we are getting close." They talked a bit longer, then took turns sleeping with one of them keeping watch. The night was quiet, as was the day that followed, but they both knew that the hardest part was still to come.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 23 2024, 08:32 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - The lighthouse The door to the basement of the Anvil lighthouse appeared to be bolted from the inside. Lena could not pick the lock, not even with magic. "It is either a magical lock or... I should wait until someone comes out." This was Lena's plan before she realised that she was being shadowed and tried to lead away the assassins. If it wasn't for Lucien, she would have been dead... but he happened upon that battle just in time, and now both of them stood on the hill by the Lady Doomstone overlooking the Anvil Bay. "He must come out of there sooner or later!" Lena was becoming impatient. The lighthouse master did tell her after some persuasion that the tenant was a middle aged man, a mage perhaps, often dressed in a simple black robe. He didn't even know his name. "He pays in advance for a year!" The lighthouse master exclaimed. "Every year, without fail! I don't ask any questions!" "A Speaker or a Silencer," Lucien concluded. "He must be among the Black Hand... but at this point it doesn't matter that much who he is, as long as we find some proof... I know it sounds strange, but I don't care who it is, as long as our names are cleared, all our names..." Lena didn't think it sounded strange, she shared the sentiment. Their exile and persecution had been going on for too long. They've been waiting for several days watching the door, but no one came in or out. "He might not be there," Lena mused. "But we still cannot open the door." "But last time you watched him, you got shadowed," Lucien noted. "And before that, when I noticed that substituted scroll, they were watching. We'll have to bait them, there's nothing else for it. You stay here and watch. I'll stir up some fuss." "Just try not to die, Speaker," Lena said in her thoughts as she didn't dare to say it aloud. Lucien went to the basement door and knocked. When there was no answer, he banged on the door with his fists, making as much noise as possible. Several fishermen heard him and turned to look. He banged on the door again, then gave up and walked off towards the harbour with several people watching. There he started asking every passer by whether they'd seen a man in a black robe who lived in the lighthouse basement. No one had seen him of course, so Lucien went to the Flowing Bowl, ordered some ale and prepared to wait. Lena remained by the lighthouse watching the door. She hid in the bushes hoping to blend in sufficiently to remain undetected even without casting any spells. She wore a chameleon ring, it wasn't powerful enough to conceal her completely, but every little helped, she figured. She sat there for a long time and nothing happened. Her skin started to burn slightly even though she fed just the night before, but being out in the sunlight all day was still going to affect her. She decided to ignore it. Then finally the night fell and she saw a dock hand approach the door and knock softly in a particular pattern. A secret knock. They should have expected it. The door opened briefly, a scroll was passed through it to the dock hand, and the door was shut again. So the man was inside, she had to assume it was he. The dock hand stashed away the scroll and quickly walked back to the harbour. Had Lucien seen him? Lena wondered. She couldn't see him in the harbour, but that didn't mean much. She had to decide what to do, the dock hand was walking fast and would soon vanish from view. On a whim, she decided to follow. The dock hand walked to the stables by the Northern gate, said a few words to a stable hand whom Lena had never seen before, passed him the scroll, turned around and walked back to the harbour. The stable hand mounted a horse and took off at a gallop. Lena saw Shadowmere following, so Lucien had been watching. She wondered whether he was being led into a trap. She was sure he realised the danger, but like her, he could not just ignore that bait. Everyone was baiting everyone, it seemed, and she wondered who would have the last word, the last move in that chain, and whether there was a way to get ahead and avoid being baited. She couldn't see such a way. She turned around and followed the dock hand back to the harbour. He walked to the lighthouse and knocked on the basement door with a different secret knock. The door did not open and he left. "He passed his message," Lena figured. It also meant that the man in black robe was still inside, and as long as he was inside, Lena could do nothing but wait. The night was still long, but if she were to stay out the following day as well, she had to feed, which meant she had to leave her post again. She hesitated. Ah, but may be there was another way. ... "Pssst!" Lena had run to the harbour and was now standing by the side entrance of Fo'c's'le where the dock hand was headed. "Get it here at half price!" She hissed, flashing her thigh. It had been a common enough thing to do, she'd seen it many a time, and indeed the dock hand grinned and turned to look at her. "This way - behind the house!" Lena motioned him to follow and he did, eager to save his money. When they were out of sight of the street, Lena cast a spell. "Come with me, I know a quiet spot," she said softly. "Anything you say, darlin'," the dock hand staggered after her, as if charmed. "Works every time," Lena grinned, leading him into a smuggler's cave nearby and out of sight of the city guard. She wanted to feed, yes, but she also had other plans for him. Once in the cave, she quickly recast the spell to make sure the charm still held, then gently pushed him against the wall, leaning onto him. "I've seen you around, my handsome," she said in a low, guttural voice and the man started to drool. "What'ou been up to? The lighthouse is my turf." "Is it?" He moaned, his eyes glazing over. "Lucky me." "Not been looking for me then?" She said in a clearer voice, and the man looked up. "I didn't know!" He cried in his defense. "I been to see the ol' man." "And so I noticed," she leaned against him a bit closer and felt his hands around her body. No matter. It wouldn't go much further. "The ol' man is mine." "No, I didn't come for that, I swear!" The man was getting nervous. "I'd never... No, I just... you know... been looking out for him..." "Aha..." Lena pushed against him and felt his hand slide up her thigh. She was almost done. "I think you're lying." She pushed his hand down again. "I want no competition." "No, am not!" The man shook his head vigorously. "Look here - see this?" He produced a scroll, unrolling it under her nose. "That one was his... was supposed to drop it off into one of the fishing barrels... will do it later, it'll keep... I promise I ain't no competition for you!" Lena smiled and he dropped the scroll, returning his hands to her body. "I'll pay you full price..." His hand started wandering up her thigh again, but she pushed it down. "What barrel?" She leaned into him, breathing into his ear and nibbling it gently. "The one without the fish..." he moaned and she allowed his hand to go up. "Good boy..." She bit his neck. ... Lena had no intention of killing the dock hand. She took enough blood to see her through the following day and left him sleep in the cave. He would not remember her face anyway, he would not remember right what had happened... She took some coin from his purse, undid his trousers, the illusion would be complete. She picked up the scroll and read it. It made no sense, just random words jumbled together, it must have been in code. She tried this and that, but could not figure it out. One word stood out however: Applewatch. She knew it was a Black Hand safehouse near Bruma, Lucien had told her about that. They were planning an ambush, he was in mortal danger. Yet Lena could not leave her post, she could not warn him, she could not come to his aid. She hesitated. Then she sneaked into the Mages Guild library and forged another scroll with all the same words but replacing Applewatch by Weatherleah, a cottage in the Imperial Reserve that she came across in her travels. She didn't think it would fool anyone, but it was worth a shot. Then she dropped the forgery into the one fishing barrel without the fish. It was almost dawn when Lena resumed her post in the bushes behind the lighthouse. She stayed there all day, and again her skin started to burn. But then, just after sunset, she heard a faint noise from the door as if someone was undoing the bolts... She quickly cast invisibility and approached. The door opened, the man in black robe looked out, saw nothing, then went outside, pulling the door shut after him. The lock clicked but Lena had already slipped inside. She could only hope that Lucien would survive that trap on his own. The basement of the lighthouse was a shrine. It was a place of madness, that much was clear. There were papers everywhere, Dark Brotherhood contracts, copied, altered. She found a journal too - the man was a Speaker. She gathered what she could and slipped out again before the man returned. She didn't think he'd return too soon anyway, she expected he'd have gone to Applewatch to see to his trap. She wanted to rush there too but her task was not yet done - the Listener had to have her report, had to see the proof, that was most important of all. "Our names have to be cleared," Lucien made a point of it earlier. "Regardless of whether I fall or not. You must go to the Listener first, no matter what happens." He had expected a trap, and was prepared to be the bait so that she could clear all their names... She took a deep breath and rode to Bravil. In Bravil she had to find a way to deliver her evidence without being seen, after all, she was still exiled for her transgressions, with a death sentence hanging over her head. If the Listener saw her, he would likely attack, and she had no illusions of not being able to stand against him. She spent the day in her house writing her report. She included a number of scrolls and a diary, but she couldn't bring it all, the Listener would have to see the room in the lighthouse for himself to judge the sheer scale of that madness. She wrote it all. Then she slipped into his house during the night and left it on the table. But would he act on that? She had to be sure, and that meant losing more time, waiting to see what would happen. The Listener didn't disappoint, and Lena saw two Brothers leaving his house with her scroll in hand. They mounted their horses and rode towards Anvil, and Lena mounted hers and sped towards Bruma, praying to Arkay that she wasn't too late.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 24 2024, 03:28 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - The Black Hand Lucien was following the man with a suspicious scroll that he received from the traitor. They were riding at full gallop across the Colovian Highlands, presumably towards Bruma. When they were passing by an unassuming cave, their horses were shot. "What?!" Lucien landed in a crouch when Shadowmere threw him off and sped away, she didn't appear to be seriously hurt. The other horse lay dead however, and its rider was fighting off the attackers. "Bandits?" Lucien wondered, trying to keep out of sight. Yet he too was attacked by another person. "Three attackers in total," Lucien noted, parrying. The fight was short, the attackers were skilled. The man with the scroll eliminated one of them - killed or severely wounded him, Lucien could not tell - but the second attacker got the better of the man, and joined his comrade against Lucien. Of the three attackers, two were wearing that particular dark leather armour, the third one wore a black robe - they had been sent by the Black Hand. "Why attack the other man if they are after me?" Lucien wondered, twisting out of the way of their lunges. Things didn't add up. The one wearing robe was casting spells too, and Lucien could not avoid those. He was weakened and felt physically sick but ignored it and lunged just as the mage was casting another spell... A bout of frost hit him right in the face but his sword was already piercing the mage's chest and Lucien brought it home by sliding it up, all the way to the neck. He fell onto the mage as the frost paralysed his body. "Baronoff's Bloody Icicle", he thought. He always found the name of that spell quite pretentious, but had to admit that it was highly effective. The paralysis didn't last long, but the frost made him sluggish for a while still, and the third assassin landed another hit, and another, before Lucien finally got him too. He rolled on the ground, he could not stand up. "Oh that is great," he swore. "And it wasn't even the main ambush, just a roadside attack... They are not taking any chances." He bandaged himself up as best he could and crawled over to each of the four men on the ground. "Two men and two women," he corrected himself, finally having had the chance to look at them properly. "Our armour and a Black Hand robe... She was a Silencer, I think... I've never met her... I wonder if she had only just been promoted..." He looked into her face - she was young, and he thought of Lena, just as young, and still only an Assassin, but more skilled and more resilient than this young Silencer that he just killed. "If we ever get through this alive," he thought, "I want no other Silencer but Wolf." He finally got to the man from Anvil that he had been chasing. He went through his pockets looking for the scroll, found it and unrolled it - the scroll was empty. "He was leading me into an ambush..." he shook his head. "But we got ambushed along the way... Fate really works in peculiar ways." Lucien killed the Brother that was still breathing and crawled into the cave from whence they came hoping that it would be clear of bandits and vermin. It was - he found several bodies inside. Stew was still simmering over the fire... The bandits never saw it coming. "Well, you were successful against the bandits but you failed your contract nonetheless," he thought of the dead Brothers and Sisters outside. Their corpses should dissuade any casual adventurers from entering. He would stay in that cave until his wounds recovered enough so he could stand. "You should take the time to heal your wounds before getting new ones, Speaker," Lena's words sounded in his head. Speaker. She still wouldn't call him by his name. "Very well, Assassin, I'll take the time," he replied to her in his mind, then fell asleep. ... Although the scroll that Lucien found was empty, he knew exactly where the ambush would be set up - at Applewatch. The Black Hand safehouse was the logical place for it, especially since Arquen was already spurring on others to unite against him. "I must confront them there," he thought. "It will distract them long enough to allow Wolf to enter the lighthouse and then bring her report to the Listener... Let us hope that I survive..." The road to Bruma had two more ambushes for Lucien, but he dealt with both of them without much trouble. "They are running out of people," he thought, looking over his attackers. "These aren't of the same caliber as the ones I met before. These are just to keep the pressure up." When he was near Applewatch, he let Shadowmere go and approached the house on foot, watching the surroundings. He saw several people in black robes enter the house, and recognised Arquen among them. They were gathering there, it seemed, the Black Hand was finally uniting against him. His chances of survival were getting slimmer and slimmer with each new person arriving. Then suddenly he saw someone exit and leave, then another person exit and search the area around Applewatch. Were they having disagreements? Or were they waiting for someone? For him, perhaps? Why did they think he'd come there at all? And then it dawned on him - the man with the empty scroll was supposed to lead him there, but they got intercepted, as if the Black Hand wasn't that united at all, as if his exile and the assassins were separate from this trap, from the traitor... Lucien didn't hurry to go in. He waited to see whether anyone else would arrive or leave, watching the sentry by the entrance. Then a middle aged man arrived and Lucien recognised Mathieu Bellamont. Was he the traitor? It was hard to believe... He was considered one of the most effective and loyal members of the Brotherhood... but stranger things were known to happen. With the arrival of Bellamont, the sentry also entered the house, it seemed the gathering was now complete. The one person missing was Lucien Lachance. "They will kill me if I go in," he reflected, wondering what to do. "How many of them are inside? Four, five, perhaps? I stand no chance." Yet something had to be done, he had to keep them there to allow Lena the time to deliver evidence and then to give the Listener the time to investigate her find. Lucien tried to estimate how much time that would need to be. "If Bellamont is indeed the traitor and he rode here from Anvil," he reasoned, "then Wolf should have delivered her evidence just about now. The Listener would then need to ride from Bravil to Anvil, search the place and ride back... Two days, all in all perhaps, if he hurries... I should give it another half a day and then go in." He settled down between the rocks with a clear view of the house and prepared to spend the last half a day of his life in quiet meditation. ... The night was about to fall when Lucien decided he could not wait any longer. People have already been going out of the house, looking around, peering down the road. They were getting impatient, and may be were about to leave, and he could not allow that. He got up, straightened his back, wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, walked over to the house without hiding and knocked on the door. There was no answer. The house was perfectly still. He opened the door and entered. What happened next was so quick that no one really understood it until all was quiet again. As Lucien entered the house and took a few steps towards the middle of the room, he got attacked from several directions. He twisted and spun, his sword extended, blood spatter covered the walls and the floor as half a dozen people in black robes were doing their dance. All was quiet - everyone stifled their cries of pain, these were no novices. Then suddenly the fighting stopped. Two people were on the floor unable to get up, three others were still standing, swords at the ready, looking around as if they lost their quarry. Blood was dripping from their robes, much of it their own. "Where is he?" One of them said in a hoarse voice. "He could not just vanish." "He could, as a matter of fact..." Another shook his head. "Vanish from view, at least. He should still be here somewhere. Mat, don't you have a spell for that?" The third person cast a spell and purple light briefly filled the room, settling on the shapes of five people and many rats. "Rats?" A woman hissed. "Who cares about the rats in the basement! That is a stupid spell!" They searched the room, but it had many corners where a person could hide, crates and furniture in the way. "Is he dead, perhaps?" One of them wondered. "He is not," another shook his head. "And we need his body as proof." Then they heard the door rattle, and one of them spun around. "There he is!!! Tried to escape, did you?!" The attack was savage. They slashed at every part of his body, no longer aiming for the heart, they were determined to make sure he didn't vanish again. Then they hoisted his body by the neck which in itself would have killed him, had he not been already dead. "And so it's done!" Arquen was triumphant. "The traitor has been slain! And here is his body as proof!" "Well, it's a body... but did you really have to slice up his face like that?" Another assassin pulled the hood off the corpse to reveal a dark-haired head mutilated beyond recognition. "She got carried away," another one grinned. "There isn't much left of his body either." He peeled off a piece of the blood-soaked robe and a good chunk of skin and tissue came off with that as well. "Bah! Every organ is mincemeat now..." "That'll keep him from coming back from the dead," Arquen laughed. "I like to be thorough. We should report to the Night Mother now." "I wonder why the Listener isn't here," one of them remarked, helping one of the wounded Brothers get up. "The Bosmer is getting soft with years," another scoffed. "It was time the Night Mother replaced him." Eventually they left, and the rats started crawling out of their holes attracted by the smell of fresh blood.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 25 2024, 09:51 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - All is not what it seems Lena was galloping towards Bruma not giving her horse any rest. She got ambushed by assassins a few times along the way, but she just sped past them without stopping - she had no time for such nonsense. Lucien was in mortal danger, and all she could do was hope and pray that she wasn't already too late. When she got close to Bruma, she let her horse go and continued to Applewatch on foot. There again she got ambushed, she knocked out the assassin without killing him, he was just a young recruit, probably trying to prove himself with such an impossible contract. She carefully approached Applewatch and looked through the window. Three people in black robes stood in the room, looking around. Two more people were on the floor. Blood was everywhere. Was Lucien already dead? Then why were the assassins just standing around? No, they were looking for him... He must have hid away, she realised, he must be wounded... he could well be already dead. "What we need is a diversion," she thought. "They won't stop until they kill him... or someone like him, at least..." She returned to the assassin she had just knocked out, removed his armour and dressed him in a black robe that she used to carry in her pack - a simple black robe without any enchantments. She pulled a hood over his face, too. She brought him to the door, revived him and quickly pushed him inside, shutting the door again. "Forgive me, Brother," she said under her breath. ... Lena saw members of the Black Hand leave the Applewatch cottage one by one, five of them, wounded but alive. They mounted their horses and slowly rode South. Lena waited until they were well out of sight, then carefully opened the door to the cottage and peered in. A mutilated corpse was hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. It could have been Lucien, but she knew that it wasn't. Rats were nibbling on the pieces of flesh strewn around. She entered, trying not to step into too much blood. Lucien had to be there somewhere. She watched the rats and wondered where they were coming from, there seemed to be too many of them to have been allowed to infest a house. "There must be a cave underground, a basement or something like that," she thought trying to find a trapdoor. She found it, descended into the cellar, there were many rats there and a passage into a cave, but there was no blood on the floor, and she realised that Lucien wasn't there. She returned to the house and resumed her search. And then she saw it - a sliding door behind a cupboard, well hidden from view. A shaft led into a small, dark chamber, she saw blood catching the light below - that was it. She moved the cupboard and descended. Lucien was lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, pale and unconscious, still breathing but only just. It seemed he had tried to bandage some of the worst cuts, but didn't get very far. His wounds were deep, but his heart was still beating. Lena tried to stop the bleeding as best she could, then pulled him out of that chamber and out of the house. She called her horse, put Lucien across the saddle and hoped they would not get attacked. They didn't have far to go - she had a plan. ... The sewers of Bruma had many exits, and some people even claimed that they extended all the way to Chorrol. Lena wasn't sure about that last claim, but she knew of one particular exit just outside the city wall, and that was where she was leading her horse with Lucien across the saddle. They stopped behind some rocks and bushes and Lena pulled Lucien off the saddle and sat him up against the wall - she had to leave him there for a short while and she hoped he would be safe. Descending into the sewers, she prepared to clear the way. A few rats and mudcrabs were rustling in the corners, but they weren't her main concern, she needed to prepare the way to the room that she intended to use. She cast invisibility and moved silently along the corridor - she knew what to expect and it wasn't mudcrabs. She saw a person kneeling over something on the ground, the person seemed to be feeding. A vampire? No, he wasn't drinking blood, he was eating flesh... Lena attacked him from behind, she surprised him and managed to land a few hits before he got up, seemingly completely unharmed, and tried to grab her the way zombies do. His movements were sluggish but much more agile than those of zombies. Lena jumped back and shot a fireball, cursing the pain in her fingers. She vanished again, circled the creature and sliced him a few more times... This went on for a while, but finally she got him, and he moved no more. She burned his corpse, just to be sure. One down. But there would be more. The corridor led to a coven of necromancers, and these half-zombies half-men often escaped from there, or possibly even were purposefully released, it was hard to tell. Yet it was that coven that Lena intended for Lucien. She opened a door barely visible in the dark and entered. The space inside was darker than most of the sewers, with black and red candles illuminating some skulls and bones for a dramatic effect. Lena smirked at that and pushed another door - she knew her way around. "Welcome, Sister!" A cheerful Breton in a heavy black robe greeted her, then seeing who it was, his face fell. "Oh, it's you," he sounded disappointed. "What brings you here, Sister?" "I don't need cattle, I've got one of my own, so relax," Lena smiled at him. "I shall be using your Blood Room for a while." "You'll need to speak to Brother Sergius about that, you know the rules!" The Breton exclaimed defensively. "No exceptions!" "I thought we had an understanding..." Lena came close to him, baring her fangs. "No flesh-eating half-zombies outside of the coven. And what do I find as I come in?" She pressed a bloody decomposing hand against the man's chest and he jumped back in disgust. "That's your handywork!" She glared at him, throwing the hand at his feet. "That vermin will rise as zombies too! The sewers are not safe with them around!" "That was an accident, I swear!" The man was shaking slightly. "Jules forgot to lock them up! They were never supposed to get out!" "Well, I killed them now, so tell Jules to check his locks next time," Lena scowled. "Or else I'll have to mention this to the others... If we can't use the sewers, we won't have a choice." "The Blood Room is at your disposal," the man said in a small voice, backing off. "I'll tell Sergius, do not worry... Have a pleasant stay!" He turned around and almost ran to another door in the darkness, then shut it firmly behind him. "Necromancers," Lena glared after him. "But safer than vampires." She walked to another door in the darkness, opened it and looked inside. It was a typical sewer alcove dimly lit with red candles. There was a bed inside, a table, a few chairs, but also a small fountain, an alchemy station and a drain in the middle. A large table stood next to the drain with grooves running down. This was the Blood Room - bodies were drained of blood there, and necromancers were making a pretty penny selling bottled blood. It was perfect for what she was planning. Lena quickly ran back out of the sewers finding Lucien still sitting where she left him, undisturbed. Her horse was munching on milk thistle nearby. She lifted Lucien and carried him to the coven, he was heavy, she wasn't accustomed to carrying people, but she hadn't fed in days and her strength was at its peak. She brought him in and put him on the table. Thin lines of blood coloured the grooves red - he was still bleeding. She took off his robe and examined the cuts. "Not too bad," she decided. "He lost a lot of blood but if everything goes well, he should make it." She proceeded removing his bandages, they were soaked through anyway. The smell of fresh blood hit her nostrils. Yes, she hadn't fed in days... she wasn't yet famished exactly, but that smell did drive up her hunger. But no, she would control it. She could control it. She must. She bent over a deep cut that was still bleeding and licked off fresh blood. She only took what seeped out already, she covered the cut with her mouth making a seal with her lips, pressed her tongue against the flesh and licked off the blood. She licked it again and again. The taste of it was making her dizzy with the want for more, but she refrained from pulling at the wound, only taking what Lucien's heart pushed out already... Suddenly the door flung open and a tall man in a heavy black robe stood in the opening looking angry. "You can't just come in here demanding the use of the Blood Room, Sister!" He almost shouted. "You are not one of us!" Lena looked up. It was only then that the man realised what he was seeing. A vampire with a gaunt face and feverish eyes was foaming at the mouth, blood dripping off her lips, her victim unconscious on the draining table, deep cuts all over his body oozing fresh, warm blood... It was a feast, and he just barged in. "Sergius!" Lena hissed. "Care to join me for supper? You can take the bed, if you like," she glared at him, a dagger in her hand. "I'll give you a common bite." She leapt and stood nose to nose with him before he could move. "I hope you are not full of nightshade again - you know I hate that flavour!" She squeezed his neck with one hand bringing the dagger to his throat with the other. "Step this way, it only hurts the first time." She pushed him towards the bed. "You have all you need, I can see it now," Sergius hissed with difficulty. "I was wrong to intrude, Sister. Stay as long as you like!" Lena nicked his skin with her dagger and he visibly paled. She sucked at his wound and grimaced. "Nightshade!" She licked his blood off her lips and spit it out. "Come back when you are clean!" She scowled, releasing his neck. Sergius didn't need to be asked twice. He backed off and left, and Lena shut the door after him, bolting it from inside. "What..?" Lucien seemed to have regained consciousness. "Who was that?" "Our host," Lena shrugged, returning to the table. "You lost a lot of blood, Speaker," she said, her face close to his. "It's better you don't witness this..." And before he could say anything else, she bit his neck. ... It took a long time to stop the bleeding, Lucien had so many deep cuts. But a vampire could seal a wound as well as make it, it was a technique Lena practiced for years, it was that which allowed her to stop feeding at will. When the grooves on the draining table ran dry, Lena was satisfied. Lucien was still sleeping, sleep induced with Lena's bite, and she could now take the time to prepare a healing mixture for the dressings. She bandaged him up and moved him to the bed. Her hunger was stilled with all the blood she ingested, she was tired but she wasn't yet done: her next task was to brew a restorative potion for when Lucien would wake up. Vampires had long perfected ways to keep their cattle alive and well and producing blood. Besides food and rest, they were also given herbal mixtures to stimulate regeneration. Necromancers of this particular coven used a similar technique to get several batches of blood from a victim before it was drained completely and ready for their rituals. The extra blood brought coin, and no one would say no to that. Lena found all the ingredients ready and waiting on the alchemy station; she brewed enough for a day or two and finally allowed herself to rest, stretching on the rug by the bed. It had been quite a day. She wondered whether the Wrath of Sithis would still greet her in her sleep.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 25 2024, 07:54 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Evening Star, 3E437 - The resolution Lucien woke up in an unfamiliar room that looked like a sewer and smelled of blood. He tried to sit up but his abdomen was hurting too much, he took a look at his body and saw more bandages than skin. Then he remembered the Black Hand descending upon him... How he managed to cast his chameleon cloak he honestly could not recall. He moved towards the corner with a sliding wall and squeezed through the opening quickly, shutting it behind him. The assassins realised that he had escaped and started searching. A single life detection spell would give away his location, what was he thinking... but he had to try. He heard Arquen cursing the rats in the basement... their shapes must have masked his. He was safe until they found the door, he wasn't sure whether they knew of that hiding space, not everyone did. Then suddenly the fighting resumed, they thought they found him... how odd... He watched the massacre, heard their voices, then his wounds took thir toll and he passed out, right there in a pool of his own blood. Lena's sleepy head was looking at Lucien from below. "You are awake! Good," she said, getting up and shaking off the sleep. "Don't move, you'll make the wounds reopen." She touched his forehead checking for fever, then brought a cup to his lips. "Drink this. You lost a lot of blood, Speaker." She helped him sit up and he drank that bitter potion. "Where are we?" He looked around, not sure what to make of his surroundings. "How..?" "Shhhh, don't strain yourself," Lena put away the cup. "You are not out of danger yet. We'll have to stay here for a while longer. This place is safe. You should rest." The drink must have sedated him because he indeed felt tired and sleepy, and he gave in to that, putting off questions until later. Once he was asleep, Lena slipped out of the room. ... "You are looking better, Sister," Sergius greeted her when she entered the common room of the coven. "Anything you need?" He squinted with suspicion. "I came to trade," Lena smiled, opening her purse. "Food and drink for my thrall, you know we've got to feed them. Some stew, bread and wine, that sort of thing." A sigh of relief was heard around the room and soon Lena was carrying a heavy basket with provisions, her purse significantly lighter. "Don't they make a pretty penny on that too," she scoffed. "But no matter." Both she and Lucien had to eat. Returning to the Blood Room, she found Lucien waking up and trying to sit up again, this time with more success - regeneration was working, but he had a long way to go still. She busied herself with the provisions and was glad that Lucien didn't ask questions until after they ate. "I don't remember what happened," he said after Lena made him drink another cup of her bitter brew. "The Black Hand seemed to attack someone else... they left me alone... then I suppose I blacked out. What did you do?" He wrinkled his forehead trying to recall those events. "I gave them someone to fight," Lena smiled. "You slipped away but it was only a matter of time before they'd locate you. I gave them another Lucien Lachance..." She paused and grinned. "Did you notice how they like slicing up the face? Thank goodness for that." "Who was he?" Lucien looked at her with admiration. "That was some trick!" "Just one of the assassins that follow me around," she shrugged. "Dressed in a plain black robe, pushed into the room at an opportune moment... They thought you had tried to escape, they thought they got you..." "And then of course his corpse was sliced up beyond recognition," Lucien grinned. "Clever." He took another sip of his wine trying to wash away the bitter taste of the medicine. "You were successful then?" "It's Mathieu Bellamont," Lena looked up. "A distant family of my mother's... it seems all Bretons are related to one another somehow..." "But it has nothing to do with your mother!" Lucien seemed sure of that. "Family links don't mean much..." "No, but what will the Listener think of that?" Lena looked dubious. "There may be letters..." She blushed and stopped talking. "He tried to use it against you, is that it?" Lucien squinted then shook his head. What would the Listener make of that, indeed? The intrigue continued. "I have to go to Bravil and see to it," he said decisively and moved to stand up, only realising that he would not be going anywhere any time soon. "Damn it," he swore. "We'll need to stay here for a bit longer," Lena said in a small voice. "Your wounds were too deep." "Where are we?" Lucien changed the topic. "Forgive me, it is the only place that was near... and that I thought would be safe... Fort Farragut was too far, you were bleeding..." Lena looked embarrassed. "We are still in Bruma." "And this is a torture chamber of some sort," Lucien looked around. "A draining table with chains... an alchemy station... I didn't know you were into that sort of thing," he smirked looking at her with interest. "I am not, Speaker!" She exclaimed hotly. "This is a Blood Room, yes, they drain bodies of blood here... But I am not a member of this coven... I just... had a favour to call in..." She straightened up, deciding to own it. "I am a vampire. We do not see with necromancers eye to eye, but these ones have been trading in blood... We've reached an understanding. Which they recently broke. I cleaned up their zombies so that I could use this room in exchange for not informing the others of the breach of agreement... It's safer here than with the vampires, I promise." Lucien was getting a glimpse into the world he never crossed before. Of course he knew about vampires and necromancers taking over the sewers in every town, he knew of their feud and the fighting among them, but it never concerned him and he never wondered where Borba sourced the blood for Vicente... A Blood Room... There must have been many of those around, no doubt. The table with grooves, the chains, the alchemy station... it all made sense. "Forgive me, I never stopped to think what it actually meant to be a vampire..." He shook his head. "You can't just go to an inn..." He fell silent, thinking of many other things that a vampire would not be able to do, in particular when carrying a bleeding unconscious victim such as himself the day before. "I manage, most of the time..." Lena smiled. "I didn't choose it... and I don't know if there is even a cure," she added wistfully. "It's the heartbeat that I miss the most. Our hearts don't beat." She got up and busied herself with some dishes and potion bottles, and Lucien thought of those times when she did in fact have a heartbeat. He realised what it meant, then denied it - it wasn't the time, or so he told himself. ... "Are you still facing the wraith in your sleep?" Lucien asked Lena the following day. He was recovering and was able to sit up unaided. "I haven't had mine since the fight." "No, it's been quiet," Lena looked up, suddenly noticing it too. "Do you think it's been called off?" She smiled with hope. "For now, at least," Lucien nodded. "It isn't complete until the Night Mother says so. I should return to Bravil." But he couldn't stand yet, and it took several more days until he was fit enough to travel. Then they rode to Bravil together and weren't ambushed, not even once. It did bode well. In Bravil Lena went to her house and Lucien went to see the Listener privately at his home. ... "I thought you were dead!" Ungolim exclaimed in disbelief when Lucien lowered his hood. "Arquen insisted she killed you herself!" "Arquen gets carried away sometimes," Lucien grinned. "They did try... they almost killed me... but someone was watching over me at the time." Ungolim nodded. "The same someone who put a report on my desk. I saw it - what madness! And to think that it went on for years and we never suspected a thing!" "What happens now?" "I informed the Night Mother of course, your exile has been lifted, I trust you noticed?" Ungolim looked up and Lucien nodded. "But the others have not been told... Aquen still thinks she killed the traitor and Bellamont... well, he must think he pulled it off! He's been hanging around Bravil and I've been watching my back day in, day out," he sighed. "The Night Mother wanted to be informed if you returned... she knew it somehow... so I shall inform her now. Stay close. There will be a summon soon, I am certain." The summon came the following day, each member of the Black Hand receiving a note to come to the crypt. Lucien was watching the statue of the Lucky Lady, watching people carefully lift a well concealed trapdoor and disappear through it. When everyone seemed to have arrived, he went in himself. ... "The traitor is slain, Night Mother!" Arquen's voice echoed in the crypt. "Lachance is no more! Our Brotherhood can breathe easy again!" "And you are certain you got the right person?" The Night Mother's hollow voice sounded quizzical. "What proof have you got?" "What proof..?" Arquen was taken aback. "Why, the same proof that we used to impose Purification... what more proof do we need?" "And has his Sanctuary been Purified?" The Night Mother continued her questions. "Not as yet..." Arquen sounded embarrassed. "But it won't be long now! Without Lachance, they will surely fall!" "They might have done, true," Lucien stepped out of the darkness. "You were relentless." Arquen froze, then went for her sword, but Bellamont was already lunging at Lucien, as were two other people. There was a flash of black light and they collapsed to the ground. "Lachance is not the traitor," the Night Mother spoke. "I have seen the real proof. The traitor had been allowed to erode us from within for too long! This is the end, Bellamont!" A lightning bolt shot at him and he was dead. "As for you," the Night Mother turned to Arquen, her skeletal finger pointing at Arquen's chest, "your zealotry did as much damage as his treason! You closed you mind, you ignored the signs... You have no place among us!" Arquen tried to plead, but it was in vain. She too got the lightning bolt and lay dead, she and those other members who chose to follow her blindly, not bothering with proof. "Ungolim, you remain the Listener," the Night Mother's voice was calm. "You always objected... I remember. The Purification order is hereby rescinded! Whoever is still alive in the Sanctuary is reinstated in their rank, with all the rights restored. Your exile had been lifted already," she turned to Lucien. "I trust you had been informed... But what of your Silencer? Why is she not here?" "She... I haven't told her yet," Lucien said softly. "She thinks she is still but an Assassin." "Well, it is your business," the Night Mother closed the topic. "She is absolved of everything as well. I leave the rest to you, my children." She looked around the room and everyone felt her touch. After that, the apparition vanished. They stood in the crypt a little longer, stunned. Only Ungolim and Lucien knew what to expect, the others were shocked by everything they'd seen. There would have to be changes, they would need to understand how such a thing could have happened... they were all blinded by clever lies, by reputation and standing... what lessons should they learn from that? Time would tell, but for now life returned to normal. ... "It's done," Lucien stood in Lena's house. "The Night Mother has spoken. The real traitor is dead, and the zealots with him. The Purification, the exile, the assassins... all is rescinded. And you..." He took a step forward, and felt Lena's embrace around him, her tears running down his cheek. "It's over then," she breathed. "It's over." He felt a jolt in her chest, then another, she hugged him tighter and her heart started to beat. He could no longer deny to himself what that meant. ... "Come back to Cheydinhal when you are ready," Lucien finally decided to pull a blanket over them as Lena started cooling off. "I'll wait for you there. We'll all wait for you." She nodded and kissed him again, then cradled in his embrace falling asleep and not expecting to fight a wraith for a change.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 27 2024, 08:51 AM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
![Group Icon](style_images/tower/folder_team_icons/03.gif)
Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Evening Star, 3E437 - A new dawn When Lena woke up in her house in Bravil, Lucien was still sleeping next to her, still holding her in his embrace. She could hardly believe what had happened, yet there he was, breathing softly into her ear, enjoying a wraith-free night, just as she had enjoyed hers. "Where do we go from here?" She thought, trying to imagine returning to the Sanctuary, seeing them all again, but in what capacity? As their Speaker's mistress? That thought made her sit up. Lucien turned over and woke up too. "Good morning," he said softly. "Did you sleep well? You look worried." "I... just need to work some things out," Lena smiled at him. "Speaker." "Speaker?" He sat up too, facing her. "After all we've been through together? And I don't just mean last night." "Yes, after all we've been through together, and because of that, perhaps..." Lena hesitated, then leaned onto him and kissed him. "I have no regrets... I wish..." She didn't know what she wished for, exactly. Her confusion was plain to see. "Alright, take your time... Assassin," Lucien stroked her hair. "I'm always here for you, remember that." Lena nodded, yet looked away. "I mean it, Wolf," Lucien said in her ear. "As your Speaker and as your friend." Did he say the right thing? He hoped so. He didn't want her to be his mistress, she was so much more than that. He wanted her to return to Cheydinhal, to take her place as his Silencer, she would answer directly to him, she would be coming to his fort, they would talk, they would finally get to know each other without the assassins and the wraiths... But how to say it all? He wasn't sure. She was less than half his age, she was too young for him... or was she? It seemed neither of them wanted that day to end, that space between the madness of the hunt for the traitor and the new, ordinary phase in their lives. They took time brewing coffee, they shared a meal and a bottle of wine after that, and they spent another night like the one before. Eventually it was time for Lucien to leave. As he hugged Lena goodbye, he had a sudden feeling that he would not see her in a very long time. He kissed her but said nothing, then he left. Lena watched him walk towards the city gates of Bravil, then returned to her house. She felt strange; her heart was still beating, she was changed yet she was still the same... Her heart would slow down and stop before long, life would return to normal... She could hardly remember what "normal" meant. She got dressed and went out, she would take a walk to clear her head. As she walked out to the shore of the Niben Bay, a strange new island attracted her attention. She was sure it wasn't there before. She cast a spell and crossed the water towards it. The island had strange plants and colourful mushrooms and a glowing gate in the middle shaped like a head with three faces... "What madness!" She thought, grinning. "Stay back!" A guard approached her. "This is a dangerous portal! Perfectly normal people go in, crazy people come out! Here's another one - watch out!" A strangely dressed Bosmer came out of the portal, looked around in bewilderement, pulled out a dagger and attacked the gaurd! It didn't take long and he lay dead. "What did I tell you?" The guard bent over the Bosmer. "It's madness! You better stay back." "But where does this lead?" Lena was looking at the portal in fascination. "Come and visit!" A voice sounded from the portal. "The Shivering Isles are beautiful this time of year!" "The Shivering Isles?" Lena looked at the guard. "Where is that?" "Beats me," he shrugged. "I'm only here to warn people, not to hold them back. You've seen what it did to this Bosmer... The choice is yours, and I'll be here in case you come out like that..." Somehow Lena was sure that she wouldn't come out like that. Nothing could possibly beat the last two or three years of her life... She went in. ... "Please sit down, I don't have all day." A balding Breton in a peculiar suit was sitting at a table in what looked like an office. Another chair was facing him across the table, and he gestured Lena to take it. She looked around, but there was really nothing more to catch her eye. A metronome on the table was measuring out time - tick tock tick tock... She sat down. "What is this place?" She asked the man. "It is an entrance to My Lord's realm, the realm of Lord Sheogorath. You may enter, if you wish." "If I wish?" Something was odd about him, besides his suit. "What was that portal?" "That portal was a door," the man answered, stifling a yawn. "You were outside, then you entered, and now you are here, amazing, truly. There is another door behind me, that one leads into the realm proper. Or you could go back the way you came." "Am I to choose?" Lena still could put her finger on what exactly was so strange. "Please do, I have other business to attend to. The anticipation is almost palpable..." "That Bosmer went crazy, he attacked the guard." "Then he was ill prepared to receive My Lord's blessing." "But what will happen to me?" Lena was finding the conversation most entertaining. "Who is to say?" "I am going in." Lena got up from her chair. "My Lord will be most pleased, I am sure," the man got up too. "And mind the Gatekeeper, he doesn't actually let anyone in... unless they are ready..." He cast a spell and vanished, and the office dissolved into a hundred butterflies at least... "Beautiful," Lena thought. The portal was still glowing behind her, she could now go in and out, it seemed, so she ventured into the realm proper... ... Lena's stay in the Shivering Isles turned out to be a long one. She felt right at home in the land where people didn't have to be "normal" and where almost everything was permitted. Prince Sheogorath was a most charming host, and Lena soon found herself embroiled into a crisis in his land... She did not mind, she welcomed something to do and a reason to delay her return to Cheydinhal and her "ordinary" life in Mundus. She was delaying it, and she was missing it at the same time. She returned to Mundus often enough, and even went to Cheydinhal once or twice, but stayed outside, only watching people going in and out. She saw Telaendril resume her weekly trips to Leyawiin, and Vicente slip out of the city at night, she went to Fort Farragut a few times but never entered. Something was keeping her back, and she couldn't say what it was. The Mages Guild still had assignments for her if she wanted them, and they were always keen to buy Welkynd stones or other rare finds, and so one day Lena found herself going through a difficult ruin near Cheydinhal. She finished the job, but just as she was leaving, she was attacked by a lich that she hadn't seen coming. The fight was brutal, she won, but only just. She was famished, too... it was strange how those things came together. When she finally stood outside, she breathed a sigh of relief... and got attacked again, this time by a bandit. "Will it never end?!" She screamed, jumping back. Three bandits were coming at her, they saw her heavy pack and wanted her loot. She dropped the pack and vanished, circled them from behind, attacked, got one down, but the other one had a heavy warhammer that hit her hard... She fell. Another hit would smash her skull into pieces... She twisted away at the last moment, jumped up, lunged at him, aiming for his heart... and missed, her dagger sliding off his iron breastplate. She sliced at his thigh instead, and he finally dropped to his knees. In the tumult the third bandit grabbed her pack and tried to run off, she saw him and sent a frost ball, he stopped, dropped her pack... the rest was easy. The sun was about to rise, she would burn before long. She checked the bandits - two dead, one still alive, the guy with the warhammer was wounded and bleeding, and she was glad that she had missed his heart. His blood stilled her hunger and she could resist the sun. She sold the Welkynd stones to the mages at the guild and brought a few other bits to Borba, but her main finds had to go to the Arcane University in the Imperial City. She didn't have a horse and she was too tired to travel. On a whim she went to Fort Farragut. Shadowmere wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Lena hoped that Lucien wasn't in. She lifted the trapdoor and took a peek, but the room appeared empty. She descended the rope ladder, a year or more since the end of Purification. She walked around the room, finding it unchanged. The Dark Guardians were pacing further in the fort, the usual distant noises filled the space, the scents of food and alchemy hung in the air. "He still comes here all the time," Lena thought. "Of course he does. Life has gone back to normal." She walked over to Lucien's bed and put her head on the pillow. The same familiar scent hit her nostrils, bitter and sweet at once. She closed her eyes. She was so very tired... The fights of the last few days caught up with her and she fell asleep. ... When Lucien entered the Sanctuary after the resolution of the traitor business, he found Ocheeva on watch. She turned to the sound of the Black Door opening, her sword drawn, her legs poised for a jump. "Ocheeva! It's over," Lucien greeted her and she relaxed. "The Purification order has been rescinded! Whom have we lost?" He spoke gravely, expecting a sobering answer. "Lucien!" Ocheeva smiled. "Good tidings at last! We... survived, somehow." She didn't seem to believe it. "We've got wounded, but last time I checked, they were still alive..." In the dormitory Lucien found most beds occupied, with several people unconscious, or nearly so. Antoinetta was changing bandages, wounded herself. "Speaker!" She looked up. "We are still holding... but for how much longer... I cannot tell." "It's over, Antoinetta." He gave her a hug, and she blushed. She was still so young... "You've survived. You persevered. Now you need to recover." She couldn't find anything to say... which must have been a first for Antoinetta, Lucien smirked to himself. She looked older than last time he saw her, their ordeal transformed her. Her eyes were no longer sparkling with mischief. "Let's hope some of it will return later on," Lucien thought. He did a round of the room, spoke to those Brothers and Sisters that were awake, then went to see Vicente and Ocheeva. He was back, and things had to be seen to. "Your primary task now is recovery," he was looking at Vicente and Ocheeva in turn. "There will be no contracts until people are back on their feet. The Listener transferred some funds... Borba should be paid with interest," he added, looking through a ledger with all the unpaid deliveries that she had made. "See to it." Ocheeva nodded. "What of Wolf?" Ocheeva thought that Lucien was avoiding the most important topic. "She is alive," he looked up. "She will be my Silencer... I haven't told her yet..." He hesitated. Vicente's expression was closed, but Ocheeva was looking concerned. "If you lose sight of her now, she will run away and not return for a very long time," she said, looking at him with significance. "You must find her." "Or allow her the freedom to run away," Vicente finally spoke. "She stood by you all this time, her loyalty is not in doubt. Perhaps she is simply not ready..." "Not ready for what?" Ocheeva shot him a glance. "Exactly." They were not going to spell it out, it was his decision. He felt however that chasing after Lena was the wrong thing to do, that it would convey the wrong message. Perhaps Vicente was right - she was not ready... and neither was he. It's been over a year since the Purification order had been rescinded, and the Sanctuary was functioning as normal again. They were receiving contracts, including high level Silencer contracts, which Lucien mostly executed himself, or occasionally passed them on to Vicente or Ocheeva. He refused to appoint another Silencer even though Lena was absent. "The Night Mother will have to decide," Ungolim shook his head. "You need a Silencer! One that is present! I understand your sentiment regarding Wolf, I do, believe me..." He looked at Lucien and smiled. "But a Speaker needs a Silencer, so you'll have to pick someone else!" But Lucien kept refusing, and when Ungolim eventually brought the matter before the Night Mother, he was surprised at her response. "It is up to him, do not press him," she said. "She is alive... she'll be back with us some day. Lachance does not want to replace her, so be it. He is to be given the usual load of contracts, regardless of whether his Silencer is present or not." And so he was busier than usual. One evening he was returning to Fort Farragut when he noticed blood on the trapdoor. He cloaked in chameleon and entered as quietly as he could. Lena was asleep in his bed, she was wounded, a heavy pack with some ancient finds was dropped against the wall. She'd been through a ruin, but it wasn't easy... Lucien decided not to wake her up. She did not appear famished, so he bandaged her wounds, making sure again to use lavender in the dressings. She came back to his fort... but not to the Sanctuary... perhaps she wasn't ready yet. Very well, he would wait for her. He left the following morning before Lena woke up. He stopped by Borba's shop, it was time to furnish his fort for two people... his old cot was no longer good enough. Borba nodded, copying over the list into her ledger. The Speaker's quarters deserved some comfort, she thought. ... It'd been another year or more before Lena came to Fort Farragut again. She was being chased by beasts and men both, she was hungry, yet stayed out in the sun, her skin was burning, she was losing blood... She shook off her pursuers and slipped through the familiar trapdoor... She found the room transformed. Better furniture, more comfort, a double bed instead of a cot... Was Lucien receiving visitors? And why shouldn't he? Perhaps now, that the Purification business was well in the past, he could finally relax? Lena walked around the room. The furnishings were different but the essence remained the same. The same scents of food and poisons hung in the air. The same stock of frost salts and potions stood by the stone bath. Perhaps there were more bandages... but otherwise all remained the same. She breathed a sigh of relief - there was no scent of a woman. This time Lena made use of the dressings and bandages before getting into bed. She was still famished, but she had to rest first, besides it was daytime. She hoped to leave before Lucien returned. ... In the following years Lena kept coming to Lucien's fort every now and then. Sometimes she was wounded and needed a place to hide from the sun, other times she was merely in the area and briefly entered and left. Once or twice she saw Shadowmere there, the saddle covered in blood, and Lucien was inside, collapsed from his wounds. She would bandage him up and leave before he woke. It was a dance they did, both knowing when the other had been there, yet never meeting face to face. Five or six years later Lena finally learned that vampirism could be cured. She did all that was needed, and it wasn't a simple task. Then she got the potion. "It will make you mortal again," the witch told her. "Be careful not to die." Lena had such high hopes for this... She would have her life back, she would no longer be shunned, she could regain her place in the world... she would have a heartbeat again! She drank the potion. The transformation was brutal and she passed out. When she finally woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she did have a heartbeat. The potion worked! She was mortal again, she did not crave blood! She ran to the mirror to check that her eyes regained their colour... She froze. An old woman was looking back at her. Her eyes were amber... but everything else was appauling. Her stooped posture, her wrinkled, droopy skin, her hair matted and hanging in patches, her joints swallen, her collar bones and ribs protruding like on a skeleton... Her face was still gaunt and her skin looked grey. Her heart fell. The witch never mentioned the price of mortality. After the transformation Lena didn't go to Fort Farragut for many years. She could not stand the thought of Lucien seeing her like that. But she missed him, and after a time she decided to visit. He wasn't there, but the room was unchanged, she breathed in his scent once again, left a potion on the table and vanished. As appauling as she found the look and feel of her mortal body, she got used to it after a time. The swallen joints didn't hurt all that much, and people in the Shivering Isles long got used to the way she looked. People in Mundus however still shunned her, often taking her for a beggar and chasing her away. The glory of the Champion of Cyrodiil proved very short lived indeed. One day she got into a fight near Cheydinhal, someone decided to be forceful in chasing away an old woman. She resisted and killed them in the end, but not before getting deep cuts all over her body. She went to Fort Farragut thinking to take an ice bath. She entered and found the room empty, Lucien wasn't there. She sighed a sigh of relief and filled the bath, removed her bloody clothes and submerged. She closed her eyes and allowed the cold to stop the bleeding, not worrying about her heart stopping again. On that occasion Lucien was at home. He had cast chameleon when he heard the trapdoor, and when Lena entered, he realised that she hadn't seen him. Not a vampire any longer, she could not smell him if he stayed back. He decided to stay hidden. It wasn't the first time that he'd seen Lena after her transformation. He knew that it aged her, and he did not care, but he wasn't prepared for the full extent of the damage. When Lena undressed, he was shocked. She looked like a skeleton, not like a woman, and she was only in her thirties. He understood why she was staying away. She went to sleep in his bed when her wounds were no longer bleeding. He bandaged her up. She had a heartbeat, but her body was cold after the bath. He stayed with her as she slept and saw her leave in the morning, but never revealed that he was there. She knew it of course, but said nothing. The dance continued.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 27 2024, 11:26 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Midyear, 4E1 - 4E7 - A feast to remember People were still celebrating the end of the Oblivion Crisis, nearly a year later. Skingrad went all out on wine, with production tripling almost overnight. No one knew how they did it exactly, and no one was asking any questions. The wine was flying off the shelves as it was. Lena was spending a lot of time in the area, partly because of the long established vampire covens that weren't entirely hostile, and mostly because of the wine. A drunk vampire is one that doesn't bite necks, was the saying, and so she was welcome at the Two Sisters Lodge as long as she was drinking. People soon got used to seeing her around and stopped worrying for their necks too much. It worked well, Lena thought. A drunk vampire may pass out in a ditch the same as every other drunkard, but when the stupor lifted, the vampire would still have to feed, and a drunk mortal in the same ditch made for a passable donor, even if the vampire passed out again after that. One night Lena woke up in a back alley of Skingrad, her head spinning with drink, her skin burning from sleeping under the sun. She looked around for someone to feed on and saw a fellow nearby, equally passed out with drink. She crawled over to him, not risking getting up, and found his neck. The fellow wore a peculiar hat with horns, she smirked at that and sank her fangs into his flesh, finding the vein. His blood had an interesting taste, and she wondered what he'd been drinking. She fed enough to keep her going, he would not notice a thing. She let go of his neck and sat up. Her head was clear, the effects of the wine had all but vanished, and she was surprised at that. "Did you enjoy my blood?" The fellow sat up, grinning at her. "You may take more if you like, I've got plenty." It was only now that Lena could see him for what he was, and he was a dremora. She jumped up. "Don't be scared, I don't bite," he laughed. "Even though they call me Sanguine." "Sanguine? As in - the Daedric Prince?" Lena rubbed her eyes. "At your service," he bowed, still sitting on the ground. It looked funny and Lena laughed. "Here for the wine, of course." "I am Wolf," Lena introduced herself. "Here for the wine as well." "Very well, Lena Wolf, why don't we get something to drink? I do hope Two Sisters are already open." They got up and went to the lodge, and it was only later that Lena realised that she hadn't told Sanguine her first name. Their feast went on for days. Whenever Lena was about to pass out, Sanguine's blood sobered her up again. She never took much, she just took enough to keep going. Sanguine didn't seem to get really drunk regardless of how many bottles of wine he poured down his throat. It wasn't all that surprising - he was after all a Daedric Prince. "Will you be staying another week?" The publican marked up her ledger when Sanguine dropped a hefty purse on the counter. "Room and board again?" He nodded and she smiled, putting away the money. This customer was paying in full, and then some. She could not care less whether he had horns or not. "Can we have dinner in the room?" Sanguine leaned over the counter and spoke in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "With just a few bottles of wine, not too much. Food for two." The publican nodded, taking his order. Sanguine turned to Lena who was toasting some newcomers. "Put down your goblet and come with me, don't drink!" He said with urgency into her ear. She startled, but did as he asked. Sanguine led her to his room on the upper floor of the building. It was a nice suite with a dining table, some shelves and knicknacks, serving people who valued privacy, she thought. "Vampire hunters," Sanguine said after he closed the door behind them. "Those newcomers... I've seen the way they looked at you. I'd rather you stayed alive." "I'll lead them out into one of the covens, they could use some fresh cattle," she said darkly. "Skingrad is the safest place for mortals, no one feeds in the streets here! All covens have thralls..." "I beg to differ, you did bite my neck," Sanguine grinned. "There's always an odd vampire in every city, and Skingrad is no exception." At that point there was a knock on the door and a maid brought in their dinner. "You need food as well as blood, so tuck in," Sanguine gestured Lena towards the table, sitting down himself as well. "I ordered dinner for two and I see the innkeeper knows what this means for a dremora," he grinned with satisfaction, lifting the lids of the many pots and dishes completely covering the table, and some even stacked on top of each other. "Roast or stew? Where do you want to begin?" The aromas of those delicious dishes reminded Lena just how hungry she was in fact, hungry for food this time. She'd been drinking too much and forgot that she needed to eat too... After dinner she could scarcely keep her eyes open. She wasn't drunk, but sleep was another need that she'd been neglecting, and it was now catching up with her as well. She fell into bed and was asleep within minutes. Sanguine smiled, watching her sleep. ... When Lena woke up the next day, she saw Sanguine next to her engrossed in reading the paper. "Listen to this," he laughed. "They finally caught the Grey Fox! He is apparently Hieronymus Lex's mother!" "He... is a mother?" Lena thought she misheard, perhaps she wasn't quite awake yet. "The Black Horse Courier has the best stories!" Sanguine laughed again, putting away the paper. "You are looking better today," he looked her over. "Just a helping of blood and you'll be ready to take on those vampire hunters." He turned his head pointing at the exposed neck. "I can't just go on biting your neck, I'm not drunk any more," Lena shook her head. "It's not right." "What's not right?" Sanguine looked at her in mild surprise. "You need blood as much as you need food and sleep, there is no avoiding it, Molag Bal be damned. And I volunteer." "Why?" Lena squinted at him. "You are not a thrall." "A thrall!" Sanguine roared with laughter. "That's a good one! I'd like to see them try!" His laughter was infectious and Lena started laughing too. "No, I am not a thrall, but neither do I fear it as mortals do," he finally calmed down. "For one, I do have a lot of blood, and for two, you do not harm your donors... I've watched you well before I let you feed on me." "It depends," Lena looked somber now. "Sometimes I take it all... sometimes I even..." She did not finish, thinking of those few occasions when she had to make do with the blood of a corpse. "Sometimes doesn't count," Sanguine said softly. "Why are you here drinking your days away, Lena Wolf?" She looked up but didn't answer. He stroked her hair and she let him. He kissed her and she responded - the vampire hunters could wait. ... "Leave them be, you can't kill all the vermin," Sanguine was caressing her as she rested her head on his chest, exhausted, her heart beating fast. "I know vampires - you are not all the same, but those hunters make no distinction." "They see us as monsters or beasts..." Lena sighed. "And many of us are just that... many, but not all. I didn't choose it... I still want a life, somehow." "And that is why I let you feed," he kissed her hair. "Come on, you need it. I won't even notice. I like it, in fact..." He turned his head again, his vein was throbbing... Lena gave in and bit his neck. ... In the years that followed Lena met Sanguine on many occasions, and sometimes he took her to one of his islands for a bit of peace and quiet. It was always early evening there, but the sun never burned her skin, there were no vampire hunters, no bandits, no rats of any kind... She so enjoyed his islands. Sanguine was exceptionally easy to be with. "I don't see why they call you the Prince of Excess," she said once. "I see no excess, just pleasure... of more than one kind." "That is excess to some," he smirked. "I don't believe in celibacy or restraint, as long as it brings pleasure... I do not ration my drink or my love, I have no morals... I never bothered with that. Are you enjoying my company? That is all that matters." "I am not complaining," Lena smiled, allowing the rays of a setting sun tickle her skin. "Do you have subjects? Since you are a Prince... I've ever only seen you alone." Sanguine snapped his fingers and a dremora warrior apeared. "My Lord," he said and bowed. "This is one of the warriors that answer to the call of the Sanguine Rose," Sanguine turned to Lena. "Yes, I have subjects, dremoras all. How many of you answer to me?" He looked at the warrior who shrugged. "We don't bother with count. There are several clans. But you won't find them slaughtering mortals akin those that recently invaded your world." The dremora warrior snorted, Sanguine waved his hand and the warrior vanished. "So, not all dremoras are the same... a bit like vampires," Lena smiled. "Dremora is just a species," Sanguine shrugged. "Are all humans the same?" "I hope to meet one of your dremoras some day," Lena looked at him with mischief. "How do I get hold of that Sanguine Rose? It sounds useful." "You've got to queue up, then do a task," Sanguine looked stern. "It's a Daedric Artefact, don't you know! You mortals are supposed to work for that!" Lena burst out laughing, and Sanguine joined her. "You don't believe me, do you? And yet it is true. There are rules... We can't just flood Mundus with overpowered weapons and such... If one can call it that... Ever seen Sheogorath's staff? If that is a weapon, then I'm a bunny, for sure." Picturing Sanguine as a bunny prompted another explosion of laughter, but eventually Lena calmed down and made a mental note to visit Sanguine's shrine in Cyrodiil and see about getting the Sanguine Rose. Somehow she didn't think that the associated task would be too hard. ... When Lena got the cure for vampirism and her body turned into that of an old woman, she fell in despair. The Demented in the Shivering Isles all agreed it was the right response, the Manics all disagreed and tried to cheer her up with greenmote and felldew, but nothing worked. Lena could not get over her loss - the loss of her form, it seemed superficial but it hurt so badly, she did not know what to do with herself. She stood at the top of the falls on the Eastern side of New Sheoth and jumped off. She did not expect to survive. ... "Suicide is forbidden here by the decree of Prince Sheogorath," she heard a Mazken guard saying. "I shall have to arrest you, mortal." "Don't be silly - she isn't dead," another familiar voice intervened. "Only soaked, and that isn't against the rules." Lena opened her eyes. Sanguine. "Not dead. I see." The guard squinted. "Attempts of suicide are forbidden too. We don't arrest dead bodies." "She didn't mean that, did you, Wolf?" Sanguine sat her up. "Tell her you didn't mean it." Lena looked up. The guard was watching her, her sword drawn. "I didn't mean it, I am sorry," Lena said in a small voice. "I was just going for a swim..." "Hmm... Well, be more careful next time, mortal," the guard sheathed her sword, satisfied, then walked away. "What are you doing here?" Lena hugged Sanguine, glad that he saved her life after all. "I'm here for felldew myself," he winked. "Came to see what a mortal Lord Sheogorath did with this realm. I see the guards still treat you like any other mortal, even though you are supposed to rule over them, at least for now." "The title of Lord Sheogorath is not the same as that of Prince Sheogorath," Lena sighed. "I get all the duties and no fun..." "We'll need to change that," Sanguine shook his head. "Sheogorath is known for throwing the best parties ever... it must be one of the duties, I'm certain. Why don't you see to that?" Lena nodded, it was a good plan... but it didn't distract her from the sense of loss of her body that drove her to the top of that waterfall in the first place. Sanguine seemed to have noticed it, he snapped his fingers and whisked her away to one of his islands. ... "What did you do?" Lena looked at her hands and saw young, soft skin and slender fingers instead of a near skeletal hand of her new mortal body. "Will this last?" "No, it won't, I'm afraid, it's just an illusion," Sanguine sighed. "It was important to you, but not to me. Yes, I preferred the way you looked before, but I'll get used to the way you look now, as long as you stay you..." He took her in his embrace and kissed her, and a few minutes later the illusion dissolved, but Sanguine did not release his embrace. "It is more than just looks," Lena started sobbing. "It doesn't feel the same... I lost agility, strength, even magic... it's useless..." "But I still love you the same," Sanguine didn't give up. "Like all those other people who care for you as well." "What other people?" Lena kept sobbing. "Those others with whom you've been through hell and back," he reminded her. "I know there are some." He might have said the wrong thing because Lena's sobs got worse, or may be he said what she really needed to hear. Those others... she'd been staying away, but perhaps she should just... oh no, that still hurt too much... she wasn't ready yet.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
May 28 2024, 06:44 PM
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![](https://masserandsecunda.files.wordpress.com/2021/05/lena-avatar-1.jpg)
Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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Frost Fall, 4E7 - For want of a man "I hear Mazken come as men as well as women," Lena glared at the Commander of the Mazken guard at the palace in New Sheoth. "So why do we not have any men here, among the guard?" "Men are inferior to women, My Lord," the Commander replied with a thinly masked disdain. Although it was the decree of Prince Sheogorath that a mortal should take his place for a time, the Mazken didn't have to like it, they just had to obey. "Mazken men are shorter and weaker than women, they are our servants, no more." "As you are my servant," Lena pointed out and the Commander straightened her back. "Yes, M'Lord." "Mazken men were created by Prince Sheogorath, the same as Mazken women," Lena continued. "Are you suggesting his creations are imperfect?" "Never, M'Lord!" "Good," Lena smiled and Haskill grinned behind the Commander's back. This mortal Lord Sheogorath decidedly had the spark. "I wish to see men among the guards of this palace. Ask them, let's see who responds. I want true volunteers. Go to it." The Commander clicked her heels, rolled her eyes and left. "What does Your Lordship intend to do with the men, assuming any of them respond?" Haskill took out his notepad, ready to take Lena's order. "What sort of duties should we assign them? They are weaker than women, just as the Commander had said." "That will depend on how many respond," Lena mused. "If any. I don't have high hopes..." "Do you wish to request Aureal men as well?" Haskill raised his quill again. "No, not them," Lena shook her head vehemently. "They are worse than the women." She didn't clarify how they were worse, and Haskill didn't ask. The next day the Mazken Commander entered the throne room with one other guard walking right behind her - a male Mazken. She marched him up to Lena's throne and took a step to the side. "M'Lord, this is the Mazken male who answered your call. His name is Dylan. What duties do you wish to assign him?" The Commander said with a certain glee. "Just the one?" Lena looked mildly disappointed. "You ordered not to press," the Commander nodded. "All the others preferred to continue serving the Mazken Order." "Alright," Lena stood up and walked over to Dylan. He was taller than she, although shorter than the Mazken women in the room. He wore Mazken armour of dark metal that left his chest exposed, with a neckguard and pauldrons accentuating his physique. It was a most appealing design, Lena found. He was armed with a mace and a bow, the same as the guards. "What made you answer my call, Dylan?" She asked. "We've never had a call like that," he answered in a guttural and slightly hoarse voice. "I am here to serve, My Lord." "Curiosity then," Lena smiled. "Very well. We shall assign you to my quarters. OUTSIDE of my quarters!" She added with emphasis. "Together with one of the usual guards. There's always a pair, you be one of them." The Commander, Dylan and Haskill all nodded, and the Mazken left. "Will there be anything else, M'Lord?" Haskill was laughing inside, Lena could tell. "What - do you think the women will be jealous?" She grinned. "The post outside your quarters is the most prestigious one," Haskill replied, no longer suppressing his grin. "I daresay they'll be jealous! Especially if you call him inside... It's not for nothing that they are known as Dark Seducers." "Yes, well, I can see why Prince Sheogorath wanted only women here, but I am not he." "Evidently!" Haskill coughed, his suppressed laughter finally getting the better of him. "And you banished the Aureals from your quarters... Lord Sheogorath should not be taking sides." "Well, this one does," Lena grimaced. "The Aureals annoy me." "Will there be anything else?" "Not today," Lena got up from the throne. "I should get acquainted with the one man in the whole of Mazken Order." She walked to her quarters and found Dylan already at his post outside her door. She went in and put on her armour, the same iron breastplate and leather greaves with soft boots that she'd always worn. This set was better quality than before, but she refused anything heavy or bulky. "Come with me," she gestured to Dylan when she was ready. "Let's take a walk through the Realm." "My Lord, would you be needing protection?" The other guard called after her, ready to follow. "I shall summon you if we get overwhelmed," Lena waved and she and Dylan left the palace. It was not unusual for Lena to walk the roads of the Shivering Isles, there was always something to do, and she liked to get away from the palace. "Our Lord is looking out for us!" People would say when she took yet another errand for them. They were her people, she felt responsible for their lives, at least to a degree. No one knew how long Prince Sheogorath would be staying away, some said a year, other thought a generation, yet others predicted a century... As it was, five years had passed since Lena got her title, and there was no sign of the Prince returning as yet. "We are just going to the Knotty Bramble to get some aquanostrum for Bernice," Lena turned to Dylan when they left New Sheoth. "It's just grummites this time, but they do get quite protective of their young down there," she explained. "If you wanted a bodyguard, why did you ask for a man, M'Lord?" Dylan ventured a question. "Our women are far superior." "And far more annoying," Lena grimaced. "I didn't want a bodyguard, I can usually manage by myself. I wanted a travel companion." "I don't think I understand, M'Lord..." "It's Wolf," Lena stopped to look at him. "I know you have to M'Lord me when we are at the palace, but when we are alone, please drop it. Just call me Wolf. As for the rest of it... you'll figure it out as we go." Dylan gave her a look of incomprehension, but then nodded and smiled. This was one strange Lord Sheogorath... as only Lord Sheogorath could be! Were all mortals like that? It was the first one he was seeing up close... A woman, but nothing like the commanding Mazken women he was serving before... He wondered where it would lead, and was eager to follow. Knotty Bramble presented the usual challenge that was not to be taken lightly. "They are just grummites!" Dylan thought, but soon learned that grummites had ranks, they had scouts, warriors, mages, deathdealers and outright savage protectors, their weapons were sharp and their poisons rather debilitating... It wasn't a walk in the park. But eventually he and Lena got some aquanostrum, as well as a bag full of grummite eggs. They went to a nearby camp to roast the eggs and rest up. "What does this water do?" Dylan was sniffing the aquanostrum. "Seems like regular water to me." "With some grummite droppings, yes," Lena grinned. "But Sickly Bernice believes it is saving her life, one sip a day. And so I fetch it for her when it runs out." "What is wrong with Sickly Bernice?" "Absolutely nothing," Lena turned over the eggs. "But she thinks she is terminally ill. Well, we all are in a way, we all have to die some day... We, mortals, that is." She looked up at Dylan but he was still confused. "So why are you going to all this trouble to bring her the cure that does nothing at all?" "I didn't say it did nothing," Lena objected. "It makes Bernice happy. It makes her enjoy her life, in her own way. It makes her feel like somebody cares... It's important. It's worth braving the grummites from time to time." She fished the eggs out of the fire and sliced them open. "Here, have a roasted egg," she handed one to Dylan. "It's food, if you can believe it. It's what people here eat... And now that you're stuck in the Realm with me, you need to eat as well." "Stuck in the Realm..." Dylan repeated, cautiously biting off a small chunk of the egg. "You won't banish me then? How am I to recover my health?" "You eat and sleep, like mortals," she smiled. "I could not banish you even if I wanted. I don't have the power. I guess the women didn't tell you that." "They didn't," Dylan took another bite of the egg. "But... well, never mind," he smiled. "I'll figure it out somehow. Eat and sleep... what a notion..." The night was clear and the stars shone in all their splendour. Lena stretched out on a bedroll and prepared to go to sleep. "You know how to sleep, right?" She suddenly looked up at Dylan who was watching the stars. "You lie down and close your eyes... Your tiredness should do the rest." "Yeah, I know how to sleep," he smiled. "Although it's true that I rarely had to. You sleep. I think I feel better already because someone seems to care for me..." ... Their travels took them all over the Shivering Isles. Dylan regarded Mania with mistrust at first, but soon realised that apart from the bright colours, it was no different from Dementia. He met many people inhabiting the Isles, and found them all to be different... much more different from each other than the Mazken between themselves. "Mortals don't make sense," he would watch them in fascination. "This one likes peace and quiet, yet this one runs around all day... That one likes wine, yet that other one declares it the ultimate evil... What is true, then?" He would shake his head. "It is matter of taste, of perception," Lena would smile. "Mortals are all different... That's what they have in common. That, and the fact the we all have to die one day, of course." As months went by, Dylan started getting used to mortals and their strange ways. They were a part of His Lord's Realm, as much as the trees and the grummites that His Lord had created, as much as the Mazken themselves, in fact. He was still trying to figure out why Lena requested a male to travel the land with her, as so far he could not see any particular reason. "A Mazken woman would have been a lot more effective," he kept thinking whenever he got a serious wound. "A woman, with her superior strength would have blocked that attack..." But there again, as time went on, his skills improved and he learned to block and parry a lot better. Not being able to regenerate through banishing into Oblivion also played a part. He had to be careful not to get hurt too much. One day instead of staying at a campsite, Lena decided to stay at an inn. They entered the room, it had one double bed. Dylan thought that perhaps this was the reason why Lena had requested a male. "Are we to share a bed?" He asked in his guttural voice, removing his armour. "I am here to serve." Lena was half way removing her own breastplate, and only turned around a few moments later. She'd never seen Dylan so completely devoid of his armour. "I don't want you to serve," she shook her head. "But you asked for a male..." Dylan was confused. "I wish to give you pleasure. Am I not to your taste?" "You are, that's not it," Lena came close to him. "They say no one can refuse a Dark Seducer," she smiled. "They may be right... I am not refusing... but I am questioning your motives. I don't want to be a chore or a duty." "But that's what men are for... is it not? To serve, one way or the other." "Did your women tell you that?" Lena frowned. "And you wonder why I asked for a man? It is such arrogance that annoys me most! To serve one way or the other, indeed!" Lena was angry. She stomped around the room, clenching her fists. Dylan watched in bewilderment. Then suddenly Lena removed the rest of her armour and clothing and stood in front of him. "Look at me," she said. "Look at this withered body. No one can desire one like this, I least of all. If I want service, I can get it against honest payment, for not for a moment will I believe that you actually want to make love to me." She looked sad and angry at the same time, disheartened and powerless, not what the ruler of the land should be like. She snorted one more time and sat on the bed, looking away. "I see," Dylan said after a while. "It's not that you specifically wanted a man, it's just that you didn't want a woman... such as one of ours, at least... Are mortal women the same? You said they were all different." "Some mortal women are much the same, some are different, and most are just as annoying," Lena smiled at him through her sadness. "I've been betrayed by women a lot... far more than by men. I cannot stand the constant chatter, the gossip, the intrigue... there are exceptions, of course, but on the whole, for me a man is a safer choice. And that's why I asked for a man."
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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Lena Wolf |
Yesterday, 11:48 PM
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Mouth
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Joined: 18-May 21
From: Bravil
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4th Era, years 8 - 100 - Wine and felldew With Sanguine's arrival to the Shivering Isles life at the palace turned into a never ending party. Of course, the Manics were already leading such a life, and they received Lord Sanguine with open arms. The Demented were turning up their noses at the Manics even more, but they had their own Daedric Prince to entertain - Vaermina arrived one night to the delight of the court of the new Duchess of Dementia spreading nightmares throughout the realm. But since most Demented already had their own nightmares, no one was the worse for wear and variety was always welcome. Lena divided her time between both courts but was impervious to Vaermina's nightmares - everything paled before the years of facing the Wrath of Sithis in her sleep. Sanguine was seen slipping out of the palace every now and again and spending time in Dementia among its people. As much as he liked to party, he was getting bored with the Manics, and too much felldew was giving him headaches. Bernice's Summer Wine was a welcome change, and although he generally stayed away from skooma, he played a trick or two on the local addicts. In a word, life was anything but boring under the new Lord Sheogorath. Lena rarely went to Mundus during this time. She only went there to visit Lucien's fort when her heart was aching too much. She found him there sometimes, asleep and wounded, she would bandage his wounds and leave before he woke up. Other times she would find his quarters empty, then she would spend the night, and again they would never meet with both of them awake. Sometimes, when Lucien was there, she would touch him in her sleep, but he would not press, and she'd leave again without knowing he'd been there. The loss of her form weighed heavily upon Lena. She seemed to have completely given up on herself; she trained up her body enough to avoid getting killed, but lost interest in new clothes or new skills alike. Her heart was still beating, but she was dead inside. Only Sanguine had a way of getting through to her from time to time. He simply wouldn't give up. He loved her for what she was, not for how she looked, he made her at ease with herself, and during that time she forgot how much she hated her body, relaxed and enjoyed herself. Alas, that wouldn't last, and after a time she would return to her brooding. One evening she and Dylan were making camp somewhere in the Realm, having collected something for someone... They'd done such errands so many times, that neither of them could remember which one it had been exactly. They shared a meal, then Dylan ventured a question. "You let Lord Sanguine get close to you, but no one else. Why is that? Is it because he is a dremora? Or a Daedric Prince?" "No, it's not because of either of that," Lena laughed. "Lord Sanguine and I go way back... to the time before I lost my form... to the time when I was still a woman... He... well... he makes me feel as if I am a woman still." "But you are... although your form does not reflect your essence," Dylan nodded. "What happened?" "I was a vampire, then I took the cure, and this is the result," Lena looked at her hands with disgust. "I did not know this was going to happen. I might not have taken the cure if I did." "Why did you seek the cure? Vampires are immortal..." "Their hearts don't beat," Lena's voice sounded hollow. "They have to drink blood to survive. They are shunned by everyone... I wanted my life back, I wanted to feel a heartbeat..." She sighed. "I've got a heartbeat but I am still shunned, I lost myself... I did not get back my life." She looked at him and smiled. "Lord Sanguine makes me forget it for a time." "Your form... what was it like?" "The same as this, only younger," Lena shrugged. "A lot younger... I was but seventeen when I turned." Dylan moved to sit close to her. "I've never met a woman like you... Well... I've never met any mortals before you, but since then we've met a lot of people... I am not making sense, I know," he sighed. "You have the spark inside, yet you allow your form to strangle it... Don't do that... I wish you didn't do that... I wish you'd let me close too..." "I am not separate from my form, that's the thing... The aches and pains, the weakness, the joints that don't move... It feels as derelict as it looks," she smirked. "I cannot ignore it... It does define what I can do with my life." "Then we'll have to fix it," Dylan said firmly. "The Wellspring... It's worth a try." ... "The Mazken Wellspring is not open to mortals," a guard at the Pinnacle Rock barred the way when Lena and Dylan approached. "Without this mortal we would not be here," Dylan reminded her. "Not until Prince Sheogorath's return. And even then... remember the way it was in the past? Only some of us got resurrected. For all you know, you could have been dead, forever." "That... is a good point," the guard looked uncertain. "Proceed, but on your head be it, Kiskengo." She stepped aside and they entered. "What did she call you?" Lena asked in surprise. "Kiskengo - it's the lowest rank in the Mazken Order," Dylan shrugged. "Mind you, I think it's her rank as well." They walked through the corridors and reached the Mazken Wellspring. Dark waters were running down a fountain and gathering in a pool. "Go bathe in it," Dylan told Lena. "Don't come out until it's done. You'll know when that is." She undressed and stepped under the running water. She felt as if layers of skin and flesh were being peeled off of her, it was excruciatingly painful but at the same time she felt reborn... Birth was a painful affair, after all. She wanted to jump out just to stop the pain, but remembered Dylan's warning. If he had told her it would be hurting that much, she might not have done it... She was glad he didn't tell her. Gradually the pain let up. She opened her eyes and looked at her hands, at her legs and feet... They looked young. The joints were no longer swallen. She moved to the edge and jumped out of the pool, and didn't wince in pain on impact. She twirled and her body responded, her hips and her spine twisting with her. She looked at Dylan, he was smiling. "It worked, you look young," he said. "How do you feel?" "Like may be now I'll have my life back..." ... The weeks and months that followed were all in a haze. Celebrations of Lena's recovery were held throughout the Realm. She drank more wine and consumed more felldew than she'd ever done, without thinking of consequences, she felt light, she felt on top of the world. Even Sanguine thought she was going to excess... but no one dared restrain Lord Sheogorath. "You are closest to her, you must stop her," the Mazken Commander spoke to Dylan one day. "She asked for a male, you responded, and now it is your duty to save her from herself. This Realm needs Lord Sheogorath who is not drunk or high on felldew." "I am but a guard," Dylan objected. "She won't listen to me." "Go to it, Kiskengo, I shall hear no objections." She glared at him and left. What was he to do? ... "My Lord, if I could have a word?" Dylan approached Sanguine at Bernice's Taphouse. "Dylan, is it?" Sanguine squinted at him. He was drinking alone, something was weighing on his mind. "Sit down. Let's hear it." "It is about Wolf, err, Lord Sheogorath," Dylan spoke in a low voice and Bernice edged a bit closer to them. "She needs to sober up." "Aye, that she does," Sanguine nodded. "That's easily done. What comes next will be the real challenge." "What comes next?" Dylan looked perplexed. Sanguine watched Bernice serve them another bottle of wine and didn't speak until she was more or less out of earshot. "Why do you think she makes for such a befitting Lord Sheogorath? How is it that she seems to belong to both halves of this land?" He squinted at Dylan. "She broods with the Demented and revels with the Manics, sometimes within the space of a day... but never at the same time, exactly like the Prince himself." "She has his blessing, that is clear," Dylan nodded. "She went from loathing herself to being reborn, she will swing back as soon as she stops drinking, and will keep swinging faster and harder until she hits the wall..." Sanguine took a sip of his wine. "She needs a champion to catch her, the same as did her Prince." They kept talking well into the night. Bernice tried to listen in but couldn't quite figure out what they were planning. ... Lena was flying. She felt lighter than air, she soared above the orange trees of Mania and green swamps of Dementia, she saw the sparkling blue sea around the Isles and the dazzling starry sky above them. She saw people below going about their business, grummites fighting gnarls and elytras, Mazken and Aureals patrolling the roads of the Realm. She was Lord Sheogorath, and this was her land. "You are a cheat," a voice spoke behind her. "You are mortal. You cannot rule this land." She turned around in flight - a wraith was raising its sword. It swung it and Lena fell down. "Cheer to Lord Sheogorath!" Someone shouted, and a bowl of felldew appeared before her eyes. "Your withdrawal begins. Don't let it." She ate the felldew and soared into the air again. "You squandered my gift," a voice spoke behind her again. It was another wraith. "I gave you immortality and you swapped it for a decrepit body!" The wraith raised its sword but Lena twisted away. "Quick, drink this!" Someone was holding a goblet. "The wraith will drown in wine and won't return!" Lena drank and the wraith vanished. The flight continued. "It won't stop until you find the traitor," another voice spoke behind her, it wasn't a wraith. She turned to look - a man in a black robe was gliding through the air with her, his hood was hiding his face. "You aren't done yet." She looked down. The land was covered in blood. "It's not blood - it's wine! Don't believe him!" She heard voices all around, people were thrusting goblets at her, all filled with wine. "Drink! Pass the time! Nothing else matters!" She took a goblet and started drinking. The man in a black robe lowered his hood and looked at her with dead eyes of a corpse. "You were too late," he said. She screamed and he vanished. Lena was flying through the air, enjoying the light breeze and the starry sky. "You are a cheat. You are mortal. You cannot rule this land." A wraith spoke behind her... ... Lena didn't know how many times the cycle repeated - ten, twenty, a hundred? Definitely more than ten... perhaps even more than a hundred... she was stuck and could not get out. Wasn't there something she needed to do? Somewhere she needed to be? She was in a haze, red mist hung in the air. The air was getting thicker, restraining her movements, pushing back, flying turned into swimming, and she was hardly making any progress at all. But was she in a hurry? No, she wasn't. She was already too late, there was no longer any point in going anywhere. She lost it all. She missed her chance. It was all gone. She was alone. She stopped. The red mist turned to dust, black dust filling the air. Black dust. Black earth. The Void opened under her feet and pulled her in. Sithis was waiting in the distance. It wasn't Sithis, it was a wraith. It threw a curse and Lena felt her heart pierced with pain. Every beat was now an agony. "You wanted a heartbeat, and you got what you asked for!" The wraith screeched. Lena felt blood rising in her throat. Each heartbeat was pushing out more blood. Lena was bleeding. Her blood was black, thick and viscous. Her heart didn't beat but the pain did not subside. She felt a tug at her soul. Black tar was rising around her, absorbing her black, viscous blood. A silver swirl appeared on the surface of the tar, it came from Lena's body and disappeared into the depths. Another, thicker swirl appeared and also drowned. Her soul was leaking into the tar. ... A blinding light permeated all. Pain beyond compare surged through Lena's body. She opened her eyes - the light was too bright to look at, yet she looked. Colours were coming into focus, she was looking straight into the sun. The sky was azure blue, getting brighter with every moment. The clouds were dazzling white, shining like diamonds. The earth was covered in grasses and flowers - gold, purple, scarlet, emerald. The waters were sparkling with silver ripples on indigo waves... Lena was flying. ... A shadow appeared in the distance. It took but a moment and a black arrow pierced Lena's heart. The sun went dark and the colours withered, the waters opened and Lena fell in. Unable to swim, she drowned. Black waters closed in. She hit rock bottom. Black lava rocks were all around, their jagged edges cutting her skin. She bled and dark, inky clouds formed around her wounds. She tried to walk but the rocks cut her feet. She fell and rolled downhill, it felt like being inside an Iron Maiden. Then someone turned on the drip. Black came in many colours. Each shade carried a particular type of pain. There were hundreds, and they kept changing. They could not be ignored as they were never the same. The pain of the soul was the worst pain in the Void. It was getting too much. Lena could not go on. "Forgive me, Speaker, I failed," she said and closed her eyes. It was all it took to die - she just had to will it. ... "Put your hands on her chest and push! Again! Harder! Again!" Sanguine was watching Lena's pupils. "She's gone into cardiac arrest! Stand clear!" Dylan jumped aside and Sanguine shot a lightning bolt at Lena's chest. "Try again! Quick!" "Are you sure this is how you revive mortals?" Dylan was doing his best but Lena's heart wasn't beating. "Yes, yes," Sanguine looked worried. "But this one is too stubborn... Knife!" He gestured for a sharp blade on the dressing table that he had insisted on having at hand. Dylan handed it to him, not sure what to expect. "NOOOOO!!!" He screamed as Sanguine cut open Lena's chest and wrapped his hand around her heart. "I am not trying to kill her, she is already dead," Sanguine shot a glance at Dylan. "But I am not giving up on her yet." He squeezed her heart rythmically a few times and Lena jerked, then breathed in sharply. He continued a little longer, and her breathing stabilised. Sanguine released her heart watching to make sure that it continued beating on its own and that Lena continued breathing, then removed his hand from her chest and cast a healing spell to close the wound. Dylan was stunned, he stood as if stricken. "That is rebirth like I have never seen before," he said in a barely audible voice. "Mortals call it resuscitation," Sanguine answered softly. "There is a small window after their heart stops beating when they can be brought back." "Will she stay alive?" Dylan watched Lena breathe fearing for it to stop any moment. "That will depend on her. She died because she no longer saw the point of dealing with the pain of living." ... "I am always here for you... Return when you are ready." A man in a black robe lowered his hood. His dark hair escaped from its tie and fell softly around his face. His brown eyes were almost black, looking at her and smiling in the corners. She breathed in his scent, bitter and sweet at once, and felt her heart starting to beat. The pain receded. She would see another day.
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"What is life's greatest illusion?" "Innocence, my brother."
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