Corrupted heart. Options

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmm so it seems that higher up beings are taking interest in a certain someone. Must be one of the escapees since this dremora decided to stop the Khajiit.

I'm very intrigued jack. Gimme some more!

[jack cloudy]

The sun cast its merciless rays down on the roofs, raising the temperature to nearly unbearable heights. Erinus Codius was sitting on the only chair in her small shack at the Plaza district. The sun shone through the window where it fell on a lonely Nirnroot plant. All of a sudden, some unseen person knocked on the door. The woman put away her book and went to open the door. The visitor turned out to be one of the stable boys from just outside the city.

,,Yes, what is it?” She asked in a friendly yet impatient tone. The Poems of Ash proved to be interesting reading and even after months she still discovered new details in each passage. She really preferred to remain alone with the book. The stableboy fidgeted around nervously for a bit.
,,There’s a man outside the gate. He told me to go get you. He claims it’s urgent.” The boy said.
,,When I asked for a reward he said that ‘people who claim rewards for helping those in need are unworthy of their ancestor’s grace.” He added when the healer chose to simply look at him without responding. When he looked up again, he saw a faint smile tugging at the corner’s of the Imperial’s lips.
,,Only one man would say something like that.”

With an enthusiasm she didn’t recognize of herself, she slipped on her shoes and fled the cramped confines of her house, having to run back once because she forgot to lock the door. The stableboy found that he could barely keep up with the woman. She passed the open gates and scanned the surrounding countryside.

There he was, a tall Dunmer who leaned against the side of the bridge with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes were closed, making it appear as if he was meditating. When Erinus drew closer, his eyes shot open and peered into her’s.
,,Aran! Did they rele….” She shouted but the silent warning he gave her made her walk forward before repeating at a softer tone that couldn’t be heard by the guards at the gate.
,,Did they release you?”
Aran shrugged.
,,Something like that.” Was the flat response he was willing to give. He wasted no time in getting down to business.
,,Can you help her?” He asked, motioning with his head to the Bosmer who he’d put down in a sitting position. To any passerby, it appeared as if she was merely sleeping. Till an observant individual would notice the unnatural pale colour of her skin.

Erinus looked at the Bosmer.
,,I didn’t knew you were into Wood Elves.” She joked.
,,Silence! Don’t mock the injured!” He chastised her. Erinus shuddered but knew that he didn’t mean to do her any harm. In fact, she was more pleased than hurt by his response. It proved that he was still the same spirited Aran Geydar she’d known for many years.
,,And you know that Bosmer are not my type. It’s her leg. Some giant dog or something tore it to pieces.” He continued, the calm statement was the closest thing to an apology he would ever make.

The healer leaned down to inspect the mentioned limb more closely.
,,Let’s see. Pale skin, evidence of severe bloodloss. What’s a dirty rag doing around there? Don’t tell me you didn’t had anything better. I’ll have to take her to my place and get something decent around it. Just why didn’t you take her to my home directly?” Now it was her turn to critiscize the Dunmer.
,,How would the guards respond if I carried a half-dead girl on my shoulder? She doesn’t look like a noble or even a rich person. Then they would see me, the scars of my life. They would try to stop me. They won’t stop a healer with a patient.” He explained as he picked up the escapee.
,,Now take us past the guards please.”


The man sat at the head of a large table. He looked at each of the men and women seated in turn. After he’d concluded that everyone was present and that no doppelgangers were around, he nodded to his servant who began to pass out leaflets.
,,This night, there was a jailbreak in our maximum security jail. Now I suppose that some questions regarding our ‘maximum security’ are in order.” He started with a serious frown.
,,There were a total of four escapees. Due to certain….circumstances, one of them died. His body has been given all the funeral rites he deserved, which wasn’t much.” He continued, looking at the Blades who were all examining the sketch he’d provided. They all had a clue of what was to come next but it didn’t hurt to ask.

,,Milord, what were the affiliations of the death person? Can we expect repercussions from those loyal to him?” One of the blades asked. The man took a moment of silence before answering.
,,There were no affiliations. He was a man who stood alone. No one will seek revenge for his death. If that was all, I would like to continue.”
,,You’ve failed, Talin. You’ve failed at the start of your great quest.”

,,There are three surviving escapees. Two of them, a Dunmer and Bosmer who are reported to be travelling together, are of no consequence. Let them enjoy their freedom, they won’t be able to harm anyone but themselves. The third one though, is a different story. Now, please pay attention to the sketch.” The man spoke. He looked at his own sketch and trailed the features with a finger.
,,The Khajiit you see here is a criminal of the most dangerous kind. His name is Ra’trith, though he also lays claim on the title ‘embodiment of darkness’. Quite a fitting title, considering his trade and the dark shade of his fur. This Khajiit is an assassin, most likely a member of the Dark Brotherhood. So far, we have confirmed the death of over thirty Imperial officers all around the province as well as a nearly successful assassination on me. I believe he might try to finish the job though even if he won’t, he must be stopped. I will not allow this killer to drench my Empire in blood once more.”

He looked at his Blades coldly.
,,Protect the Empire. As servants of the Nine this is your duty. But be warned, do not take your enemy lightly. He is an expert in unarmed combat. Don’t let your guard down just because he does not hold any steel in his hands. Dismissed.”



Note: Actually, he was alerted by Merdrar's 'death' at the Khajiit's claws. He wants to go after the most dangerous escapee first.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Jan 15 2007, 08:37 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

Our healer seems to have a bit of humour to her, which is an interesting quality. I guess making a patient smile and laugh works wonders on their pysche.

And now the emporer is going out head hunting for Ra'trith. It'll be interesting to see how well that goes. My thoughts are that many more bodies are going to be sacrificed before that one is defeated.

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, I just realized. Ra'trith alone has murdered more people in what's still the beginning of the story than some main characters in an entire story. Creepy. Maybe I should call it 'Bloodlust: The prequel?'
I won't try to lay claim on that title. It still lacks what Bloodlust does so well, plot and characters who do more than just killing. I never knew that writing a killing machine could be so hard. There's more to it than just dropping corpses everywhere. So another compliment to Simion, who is probably the most interesting killer I ever read about. Anyway, on to the story.






The Bosmer had been lowered onto the healer’s bed. Erinus carefully removed the makeshift bandage while Aran watched. She didn’t utter a sound when she saw the damage for the first time though she did frown.
,,Two claws that have run quite deep, a third wound which is fortunately little more than a minor scrape. Lots of dirt.” She muttered to herself.
,,Get me the bottle of alcohol, I’ll need to disinfect this mess first. It is no use to regrow flesh and muscle when it means that you’ll get dust and mud trapped inside.” She ordered while her eyes still surveyed the Werewolf’s gift.

Aran opened the cupboard which contained all of Erinus’ medical items. He’d seen her take something from that cupboard countless times before and had a nearly photographic memory of its contents. His hand had already reached for the bottle before his eyes had found it.
,,Why is the cupboard so empty?” He asked while handing over the bottle. This time, the healer did utter a long and hard sigh.
,,Emperor’s orders. He decided that we charge too much and forced us to lower our prices. Like this, I can barely buy the food I need to feed myself, let stand buy the ingredients I need for my practice.” The door clicked as it was closed. Erinus looked up and then returned to her patient.
,,You’re as stubborn as ever, Aran Geydar. Just make sure I won’t have to heal you as well.”


Derin Horse-Mouth raised his hand.
,,Another one.” He shouted and burped. The bartender went over and refilled the Nord’s mug. He snatched the coin on the table and returned to cleaning his bar. Derin took a large swig of the liquid, burped again and layed down his remaining coins on the table. After some counting, he concluded he could have five more rounds. Then, he really had to find himself a job.

A cloaked figure entered the tavern, his form hunched over slightly like a beast. The tip of a black tail reached out underneath his cloak. The figure dropped a single coin on the tap.
,,Brandy.” He said with a deep growling voice. He then moved directly to the table occupied by Derin and sat down.
,,It’s too early to get drunk, Derin Horse-Mouth.” He whispered at the drunken Nord. The Nord raised his head and found himself looking into a pair of intense yellow eyes surrounded by a black face. He forced a smile on his wet lips.
,,I can’t believe it. Ra’trith, the embodiment of darkness. What can I do for you, brother?” He howled across the room.
,,You could start by keeping your voice down. I have no patience for dealing with drunk fools.”

Normally, this would have sparked a flame in the Nord’s hot temper but this time, he took the insult in silence. He knew the skill the assassin possessed and more importantly, his willingness to use this skill at the slightest provocation.
,,It’s good to see you alive. We were worried. They said you had been dragged off to prison to the south of the city.” He slurred, somehow finding the strength to keep his voice down. He grinned.
,,So, I assume you want the usual? Tell you what, I’ll give you a discount for your information. To celebrate your freedom? I’m sure we can work out a deal.” The Khajiit jumped on top of the table and delivered a powerful kick into the Nord’s face, sending him flying backwards till he hit a wall. The whole building shook from the impact.

The pain instantly sobered Derin, or at least down to the point where he realized the danger he was in.
,,No one said a thing. The Emperor would never admit that an assassin managed to reach his bedroom and nearly killed him. You lied to me, you traitor!” Ra’trith hissed in the Nord’s ear. His claw pressed into Derin’s throat, causing a trickle of blood to flow down.
,,You want a deal, here’s one. You tell me what I want to know and I’ll pay you with your life.”

A not so drunk patron rushed out of the door, most likely to warn the guards. Derin followed the man with his eyes. Those who remained behind didn’t dare to move or make a sound, unwilling to bring the Khajiit’s fury down on them.
,,What do you think you’re doing, Ra’trith? When the guards come, they won’t show you any mercy. What do you think you’ll achieve with your death?” He spoke with a trembling voice. In reality, he knew that even five guards would be no match for the assassin. Even in a straight-up fight, the Khajiit was a force to be reckoned with. All he could do now was to please the monster in any way he could.
,,Twenty seconds to get to them, ten to explain, thirty to return. That makes sixty seconds. If you don’t give me the information I want by then, you’ll die. Fifty seconds left, start talking.”

For a moment, Derin only managed to speak gibberish. He soon managed to regain his voice and shouted at the top of his lungs, tripping over his own tongue in his hurry to speak.
,,They came before you did! If I kept the vital detail for myself, I would be rewarded with a fortune. If I told you, they would kill me!” Ra’trith’s eyes narrowed.
,,Who? Thirty seconds.” He growled.
,,I shouldn’t tell you. If they find out, not only will they kill me, but the whole Brotherhood. Don’t your brothers and sisters mean anything to you?” Derin objected.
,,The only life I care about is my own. Who?” The Khajiit pressed on despite the danger he was bringing his people into.

,,That royal battlemage and some of his people. Jagatha…..something like that, I swear! ” The Nord answered. Ra’trith dropped the man who slumped down to the floor.
,,Jagar Tharn?” He asked, so surprised that even he could not hide it. Derin simply nodded. The sound of armoured boots battering the cobblestones drew nearer.
,,I told you everything I know, now please let me live.” The Nord pleaded. Ra’trith swiped his mug of brandy from the table.
,,You betrayed me before. I won’t give you the chance to betray me again.” With a single swift motion, he drew his claw across Derin’s throat. He then calmly drank his brandy and dropped the mug into the pool of blood gathering around his toes.
,,This is good brandy, perhaps I should come here more often.” He noted as if nothing had happened.

A panting guard burst through the room. The sight was one he would remember his entire life. Everyone, frozen in fear. A corpse, with blood still streaming onto the floor like a river. The tip of a black tail vanishing up the stairs.
,,Ahem…….Everyone, don’t move. The Imperial guards will investigate this matter. Please form up in lines and prepare for your interrogation.” He said with an uneasy voice before turning to the patron who had warned him.
,,Go get some more help.”

Ra’trith easily eluded the guards. He ditched the now bloodsoaked cloak into the lake surrounding the city.
,,So they came before me? Then Derin wasn’t the only traitor. And Jagar Tharn, why would the royal battlemage himself show interest in me? I hate dealing with trouble like this. At least this Merdrac fellow kept his word. No spells, even if he would die without them. Honourable fool.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Well not all killers have character development, just look at most horror movie monsters. All they really do is rack up body counts over sequel after sequel. But hey, it's cool that you like Simion; I like him too!

Ra'trith is quite the character himself, he certainly has that nice sinister edge to him. And now the Imperial Battlemage himself is looking for him. Sounds like Ra'trith will have many enemies to go through to get some answers.

[Black Hand]

Whoa. I stand in awe of your post machineiness Jack! As well as your story. I like this Khajiit, and Aran Geydar sounds like a One Bad ..**Shutyomouth!** too...

[Malpense the Dark]

Wow, I'm really loving this series! As a newbie to these forums I came specifically looking for some Elder Scrolls Fanfiction and the first thing I read is this great looking series. I like the fact that the Kajit is a werewolf, didn't see that one comming at all. I like the way you made the atmosphere in the dungeon feel really creepy and scary, really got me in to the story. The relationship the two escaped prisinors have is pretty interesting too. Can't wait for more!

[jack cloudy]

Thank you and welcome. Please have a look at the other stories as well. On the whole, the quality is quite high here in my opinion.
Oh, and is that Ethan from ctrl-alt-delete? I read that comic from time to time, it's funny.

Now without further ado, meet the next chapter.




Chapter 2: Pit of sand, well of memories.

Aran walked through the Imperial city at a brisk pace. Those who were walking outside as well had to move aside when he came through.
,,Lower the price? What is the Emperor thinking? Did he lose all sense of finance? And doesn’t he realize the importance of healers? When the healers can no longer support themselves, then who treats the wounded, or the sick?”
He came past the Black Horse courier. The latest edition had been pinned to the wall. Aran stopped to read the headlines.

EMPEROR SENDS HEIR AWAY. ‘A school in Hammerfell. Is the next emperor being trained to be a new conqueror?’

TENSIONS RISE ON ELSWEYR-VALENWOOD BORDER ‘The latest chapter in the neverending conflict’

QUEEN OF MORROWIND FLEES TO HIGH ROCK ‘Local nobles claim to be pleased to be rid of the Dark Elven queen.’

DARK BROTHERHOOD STRIKES AGAIN ‘An ancient guild of assassins plague our lands. Will the Legion do something?’

With each headline, his frown got deeper. Unlike most Dunmer, the hate towards queen Barenziah meant nothing to him. Where he was born, her rule was as strong as the morning breeze. The queen had never been an influence on his life, nor would she ever be.

What bothered him was that there seemed to be only tales of violence. War, a conqueror in training. As if Tamriel hadn’t seen enough blood in the past.
,,I make no sense. I protest against war whereas my life has been nothing but one great battle, fuelled by the blood of my opponents and I.”
Silently, he continued walking till he reached his destination. The Arena.

The Arena looked from the outside like the city on a smaller scale. Only the great tower was missing. He took the fighter’s entrance, where he moved through the training area. Gladiators where demolishing bags, putting holes into wooden boards or simply breaking each other’s noses. In here, it seemed as if time did not exist. The only sign of time passing would be the replacement of old gladiators with new ones.

Aran walked up to the desk at the far end of the room. An old Orc sat behind it, his face disfigured from his own career in the arena. The Dunmer waited patiently to be noticed. When the Orc looked up, his eyes shone with recognition.
,,I don’t believe my eyes! Aran Geydar, the spearwielder! What can I do for you?” He asked and took the Dunmer into a crushing embrace.
,,I need money. Let me enter the arena.” Aran answered. Instantly, the Orc let go and took a step back. He tried to keep his eyes focussed on the man’s face yet couldn’t stop himself from glancing down at his left hand.

,,Can’t you find a different way to make money? Face it, my friend. You’ve had your days of glory. Now they’re gone, they fled when you lost your hand.” He complained.
,,You’re a cripple, Aran Geydar. I understand that a warrior’s true wish is to die by the sword. But you’re too young. You should find a woman first, pass on your blood to a new generation of warriors. Don’t throw your life away.”

Aran looked down at the cloth covering the stump. His hand had been severed at the wrist by Erinus, after an axe had turned it into a bloody pulp of flesh and bone. With his hand, most of his skill had vanished. He pressed his remaining hand into a fist. He would not give up, even if injured.
,,As long as I have a spear. I can still fight! Let me do this, Ghorak! Let me.” He demanded. Ghorak sighed, an unusual thing for an Orc to do. Then again, just being a respected citizen was a miracle for an Orc.
,,You have courage. I respect that. Very well, follow me.” He said and moved away from behind the desk. The Orc’s stomach bulged over his belt, yet the muscles underneath his skin remained strong.

He led the Dunmer into the trophy room. There, he moved to an exhibit composed of an axe and a spear. Both were stunning examples of workmanship. Steel mixed with gold, emeralds embedded into the hilt of the axe and the shaft of the spear. Runes engraved into the blades. Ghorak removed the spear from the wall and held it out.
,,I made this spear before your last battle. If you became the champion, I would give it to you. Alas, you did. Only to get dragged off to prison. Here, take it. It’s yours.” He said with his rough voice. Aran didn’t take the spear outright but instead looked at the axe.
,,The axe?”

The Orc looked as well and shrugged.
,,I can’t play favourites. I worked on that axe as long as I worked on your spear. If he had won, he would have received it.” He explained.
,,He was a worthy opponent.” Aran claimed and reached out to take the spear. With a sudden movement, Ghorak pulled the weapon out of reach.
,,Just promise me one thing.” He said.

Aran looked intensely at the Orc. He had never asked for a promise before.
,,What?” The Dunmer asked warily. Ghorak forced a grin.
,,Don’t kill your sponsor.” Now Aran grinned as well.
,,You have my word.” He said and received his spear. His first impression was that the weapon was remarkably light and exceptionally well-balanced. Truly, with this weapon the loss of his hand did not matter.

,,Just why did you kill your sponsor after that battle?” Ghorak asked as they walked up to the gates. Just a moment earlier, the Orc had shouted at one of the gladiators to get ready for a match.
,,That man slaughtered most of my tribe, tried to take our land. I vowed to avenge the Urshilaku who had been slaughtered and then left for the Nix-Hounds to feed on. I followed him all the way here and fought in the arena for eleven years before I got my chance. He sponsored me, so then I could get close enough to kill him. What happened to me after that was not important. He’s death now, and the souls of my ancestors have found peace.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Well you can certainly tell that Aran is a prideful mer. He was willing to go to prison to avenge his tribe. That takes a lot of heart. And it seems you've been hiding the fact that Aran is a cripple as well. That certainly brings a twist to things. Hopefully he'll manage to adapt his style so that his spear skills can be put to use with one arm.

Great work Jack. Looking forward to the Arena Battle, which I'm assuming will be the next update. I could be wrong though...

[jack cloudy]

Well, I've been following the teasers quite closely. Ra'trith is the one who tried to assassinate the emperor, Rajn is that guide in Valenwood and Aran is the Ashlander who stopped a Nord's axe with his hand and then killed his sponsor a minute after the battle.



Aran watched as the gates were lowered. He stepped into the arena, carefully avoiding the sharp tips at the top of the gate which had now sunk into the ground. Ghorak walked to the center of the arena.
,,Listen, this match is private! There is no crowd! The winner receives a thousand septims, paid in solid coins. First one to admit defeat loses! Try not to kill. Begin!”

The Dunmer did not move as the Orc retreated to the edge of the pit. He let his eyes wander over the Redguard who was his opponent, analyzing his strengths and weaknesses. He began with the man’s race, a Redguard. Then, his eyes wandered down to the weapon, a katana held loosely in his right hand. Next, the armour, a suit of overlapping Bronze scales.

The Redguard was getting impatient. He’d moved to the center of the arena, expecting Aran to do the same thing. Yet, Aran was still standing at the gate.
,,What’s the matter with you? Lost your guts? If you’re afraid to fight me, you shouldn’t have stepped into the ring.” The man shouted across the distance.
,,I can’t blame you though. A spear is a two-handed weapon, impossible to use with just one. Come on, why don’t you step out while you have the chance? I won’t tell your girl about it. If you have one. Not much chance with such an ugly face.” He continued.

Aran’s eyes narrowed.
,,Overconfident, impatient and jumps to conclusions. Furthermore, he tries to bolster his own courage by insulting the opponent. Pathethic.”
He continued to wait till the Redguard had lost all patience and charged him.
,,Stupid fool! If you don’t want to admit your defeat, I’ll make you!” That comment brought a smile on the Dunmer’s lips. The Redguard looked surprised by this reaction and slowed down a little.
,,As planned. Now, to make my move.”
Aran stepped aside and swung his spear around above his head. At the last moment, he flicked the shaft around with his fingers till the spear was pointing down. A loud ringing sound echoed across the arena when the katana bounced off the weapon. He brought the spear back into an horizontal position and trust the butt into the Redguard’s stomach, sending him down on his knees.

Aran brought his spear’s blade down to the man’s throat.
,,A warrior hides his strength with an illusion of weakness. Remember this, or you’ll never win a battle.” He spoke solemnly. He pressed the blade against the Redguard’s throat.
,,Do you admit defeat?” Aran asked.
,,Yes.”


Erinus was humming an old tune. Her patient was still unconscious but she knew from experience that it wouldn’t last much longer. When the Bosmer woke up, she would have to explain the situation. She heard someone knocking on the door and got out of her chair to see who it was this time.
,,I hope it’s Aran. He’d better not come back in pieces.”

The visitor was not Aran. Rather, he was an Argonian whose red scales matched his red clothes.
,,Good day to you. I hope I do not disturb you?” It spoke in an odd hissing accent. Its expressionless eyes glanced at the Bosmer lying in the hut’s only bed. Erinus looked at her patient as well.
,,No, you don’t disturb. How may I help you?”

Without a word, the Argonian took the woman by the arm and led her out of her home.
,,It’s not safe to talk here. We’ll talk there, behind the bushes. It is an important matter that concerns all of us.” He spoke. While Erinus could not read the strange creature’s expressions, she felt that it meant her no harm. So she followed, although she was slightly concerned about leaving her patient.
,,I believe that this is far enough. No one will hear us here, as long as we keep our voices down.” She finally whispered.

The Argonian turned to her.
,,I am known as Marsh-Speaker. You may call me Marsh. I need your help, lady Codius. The matter concerns the Emperor, whose health I fear.” He whispered, still in his peculiar accent. Now Erinus knew what caused this accent.
,,Its mouth is not shaped for our kind of speech. Just that it can speak comprehensible words is an achievement. To speak this well, he must have lived among us for a long time.”
,,I heard nothing about his health and even if there were problems, he has his own private healer for that.” She answered, hiding her own doubts with a confident voice. He’d made some odd decisions lately.
,,I know, but his own healer would not speak to me. Lady Codius, I do not ask of you to cure him or even to get involved. All I want to know is this, has the Emperor done strange things in your opinion?”

The healer shrugged.
,,I suppose he does. But I’m a healer, not a politician. How can I judge his decisions?” She asked Marsh-Speaker in return. The Argonian nodded, another habit he’d learned from the humans and elves that surrounded him.
,,True, but I am a politician so I can judge him. I’m telling you, the Emperor acts as if he is an entirely different person. I don’t know the soul of a man. Therefore I came to you, for advice.”


Back at the shack, a pair of pitchblack eyes opened. They squinted as they tried to make sense of the blurry image. The image cleared, revealing a wooden ceiling.
,,Cut up trees, barbaric.” Rajn thought to herself and managed a weak chuckle.
,,They probably think the same thing of me. The city people call the forest people barbarians, the forest people call the city people barbarians as well.”
Her eyes shot wide open and her mouth formed a soundless ‘oh’.
,,This isn’t that stupid jail. There’s a window, air! I’m above ground! I feel so happy, I could hug a tree.”

She tried to sit upright but fell down before she’d even managed to lift her head above the pillow.
,,My leg hurts. Next time I meet a dog, I’m going to kick it so hard, it thinks its ribs are floating above its head. I wonder where the Dunmer is? Or where I am, for that matter.”
She yawned.
,,Who cares, not my problem. Maybe I’ll worry about it tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Maybe never.” Already, she’d used up her strength. She drifted off into sleep before she’d even realized.

[Black Hand]

One Handed Spear Weilding at its best! Keep it up jack, you're outdoing yourself with this one! I am liking this story very much.

[The Metal Mallet]

Each character and getting more steadily defined as you continue. I love it, jack! Keep it up, or else... well I don't think I can really do anything to you. You're like on the other side of the ocean and I don't think I'm travelling to that side again anytime soon.

Let's just say I would be a bit down. You don't wanna make a loyal reader sad would you!?

[canis216]

Wow, a lot's happened here since I last perused this story. This is really excellent!

[jack cloudy]

A shadow walked into Cheydinhall, unseen by any of the guards. The shadow dropped down from the wall and moved quickly towards what looked like an abandoned building. He knocked three times on the door. After a long waiting period, a small hatch opened at eyelevel and two red eyes peered at him.
,,What’s the colour of the night?” The eyes asked.
,,Sanguine.”

The door opened, allowing the shadow to enter.
,,Ah, it’s you, Ra’trith. How did the hunt…..” The doorkeeper slumped to the floor, blood dripping out of the hole where his heart used to be. Ra’trith squeezed the still beating organ dry of blood before placing it back in the gap.
,,The night is coloured sanguine with your blood, Brother.” He whispered.

Without warning, a dagger stabbed into his shoulder, releasing its vile poison into his blood.
,,Ra’trith, what do you think you’re doing?” A stern voice asked him. The Khajiit backed up into the doorframe where he could keep his opponent in front of him.
,,Taking care of business.” He snarled. The man who’d attacked him put away his dagger.
,,You mean the traitor? I’ve already met him days ago and taken my measures. There’s no need to kill the whole sanctuary. Sheath your claws.” He said, revealing unnatural fangs in a mad grin.
Ra’trith refused to sheath his claws. Not because he didn’t trust the vampire, but because he never sheathed them no matter what the situation was.

,,You did kill one of your Brothers though. That cannot go unpunished. Normally, you would be marked for death. You’re a rare asset though so I’ll have you redeem yourself through the spilling of blood. The details of your mission are pinned to the wall in the armory. Get yourself prepared.” The man continued and turned his back to the assassin, becoming one with the shadows once more. Ra’trith watched the vampire’s back.
,,As you wish…..master.”

He walked into the armory and wasted no time getting ready. He took a small chest from a rack and opened it. Inside, an Ebony dagger of sublime workmanship lay wrapped in the finest red silk. The Khajiit eased his fingers around the hilt and let the torchlight reflect on the blade. A Blade of Woe was a weapon unique to the Dark Brotherhood. It came in multiple sizes and a variety of shapes, each individual weapon was tailored to fit its owner’s hand perfectly. With a keen edge and a care that bordered on religion, the Blade of Woe was always ready to kill any victim efficiently. Most blades were unenchanted, and only the highest ranking members of the Dark Brotherhood and a few exceptional assassins had theirs enchanted by the Night Mother herself. Ra’trith’s blade belonged to those few that were enchanted.

He rarely used it, preferring to rip his victims apart with his claws instead. Some people had called him a mad beast before because of this habit. They’d all paid for that insult with their lives. This time however, the vampire would not forgive him if he didn’t take to the job like a real Dark Brotherhood assassin. Apart from the dagger, he also picked up a new outfit of light armour and a cloak, all coloured a pitch black that matched his fur. He’d lost his own set when he got dragged off to jail after his failed attempt at assassinating the emperor.
,,Next time will be different.” He vowed.

He made a quick stop at the dining hall to grab an apple from a basket. He hadn’t been able to eat since killing Derin Horse-Mouth. He brought the fruit up to his mouth and sniffed. With a swift movement similar to the ones he used to kill, he threw the fruit at the cook’s face. The apple hit with a wet smack.
,,I’ll let it slip this time. Next time you try to poison my food though, you won’t live to see the next day.” Ra’trith warned and headed out of the door.

The doorkeeper had already been replaced. The new one was quick to open the door for the one who killed his predecessor. Outside the sanctuary, the Khajiit scaled the wall and sat down on the roof of the building it was located in. There, he unwrapped the notice.
,,Target: Revarim Kendri. A Redguard of around 60 years in age. Wears a worn robe of a brown colour. Target can be found at Cyrodiil, Plaza district. Sells carved statues made out of wood. Target is unarmed. Payment for execution is 5000 septims.”He frowned as he tore up the piece of paper and let it be carried away by the wind.
,,5000 for an old man who can’t even defend himself against a fly? That no one else has already taken the job. There is a bad smell about this. I’ll have to be careful.”

[Malpense the Dark]

Nice stuff Jack, very enjoyable. I like how the character of Ra’trith is progressing, they way you've described him makes it pretty easy to picture how bloodthirsty he is. Can't wait for more!

And yeah my pic is Ethan. Love Ctrl+Alt+Delete

[The Metal Mallet]

I would be suspicious too given the information on our Redguard target. I'm sure Ra'trith's Khajiit nose can spell a trap pretty easily.

I have a feeling the next update is going to be quite bloody. I'm looking forward to it!

[Black Hand]

My my my Jack! You're now officially inducted into the Assassiny Writers Sub-Guild! Joining those such as Metal, Canis, and I hope myself!

[The Metal Mallet]

We have such a guild!!!? Sweet!! Oh yea, you'll definitely be in this Sub-Guild if I'm allowed in. Heck, my assassin isn't even the prevalent main character in my story!

[jack cloudy]

It's obvious, isn't it? When you pay money for some old guy, expect TROUBLE in capital letters.

Assassiny writers sub-guild? Sounds nice, though I don't know if we can call Ra'trith an assassin. His killings so far have been much too open. No sneaking around.

And now, we continue with the others.






Several minutes later, the Khajiit was sitting on the lower branches of a tree, hidden from view by the many leaves. A coach came along. Ra’trith took in the vehicle and made his decision quickly. When it passed underneath him, he dropped down and landed on the roof without making a sound or causing a vibration. He slid down to the back where he was perfectly hidden from both the Imperial in controlling the horses and its passengers. He sat on top of a large suitcase, his legs dangling in the air. He absentmindedly scratched his wounded shoulder.
,,Damn poison. It itches. I hate that vampire. Hmph, I’ll break free from him someday. No one lives forever, not even those who have sacrificed their soul for an illusion of immortality.”


A Breton moved around the tables with a plate held above high above his head. He arrived at his destination, lowered the plate and put two large jugs of Mazte on the dirty table. He then left as swiftly as he’d arrived. A grey hand reached out and opened the two jugs. Another hand, a green one, was dropping coins in a leather pouch.
,,980…990…1000, it’s all there.” The Orc said with his rumbling voice and slid the now filled pouch across the table. Aran picked it up and deposited the fortune in his pocket where it would be quite safe.
,,I do have a question for you.” The Dunmer stated before taking a swig of the Mazte.
,,That’s fine but I have a question for you as well.”

Aran shrugged.
,,You can ask anything you want. Now for my question, why did you make me promise not to kill my sponsor? It’s not like you to worry about such things. In fact, I must have caused quite some publicity with that act. Don’t you always grab every chance at publicity you can get?” He asked. Ghorak laughed, managing to make more noise than everyone else in the tavern combined.
,,I know, I love publicity. Publicity is good for business. But what good is publicity for me if I’m death? It took us hours to find and clean up every little bit of the guy’s head. I sponsored you this time. Forgive an old man his self-protecting behaviour, please.” He explained once he’d finally stopped laughing.
,,Now as for my question, why do you need the money so much?”

Aran casually leaned back in his chair.
,,It’s not for me. It’s for Erinus Codius. With the new law that forces the healers to lower their price, she can no longer sustain herself.” He told the Orc. Ghorak slammed on the table with a fist, causing a large wave of his Mazte to fly up into the air and splatter down on the table again, making it even messier than it already was.
,,That woman?! Why didn’t you just say so instead of going out and teaching that fool who’s boss? Do you have any idea how many corpses we would have if she wasn’t there to fix up the survivors? I know about that law but I’d completely forgotten about it. Curse the Emperor and his name!” He raged. The Dunmer looked around the tavern calmly. While he did see a number of angry faces, none of those faces had violence in their eyes. Still, violence could occur if his friend continued to slander the Emperor.
,,You might want to tone it down a bit, Ghorak. Getting killed in a bar brawl is bad for business as well.” He warned.

The Orc calmed down though he did utter a few more threats under his breath.
,,Keep the money and don’t give it to her. Let me deal with it. Since the Emperor has forbidden us to pay her a fair price, I just thought of something different. What if we give her a weekly bonus for ‘outstanding service quality’? I bet that we could slip the money she deserves past that bloody law with this.” He whispered, grinning savagely. Aran grinned as well.
,,They may say that all Orcs are barbarians with less intelligence than a rock. You, my friend, have a common sense and wit an Altmer would be jealous of. A bonus for outstanding service quality, that definitely sounds like something she deserves.”


Erinus closed the door quietly.
,,We might meet again someday. Till then, may the Divines watch over you.” Marsh-Speaker spoke to the closed door and moved out on the street, soon vanishing within the mass.

With her visitor gone, the healer had all the time she needed to take care of her patient. She hadn’t been able to do much about the wound yet. Now though, she would be able to mend most of the flesh with the potions she’d freshly bought during her conversation with the Argonian. She began to remove the bandage she’d applied and inspected the wound closely to see if there had been any unexpected changes.

,,It hurts.” A voice whispered. When Erinus looked up, she found the Bosmer’s eyes staring at her.
,,Well, of course it hurts. Any further, and there would be no way to save your leg. You’re quite lucky the wound wasn’t infected. Not only was it dirty, but your resistance to disease has been seriously undermined with your starvation. At least you’re awake now, that’s a good sign.” Erinus said calmly.
,,Raw rat meat isn’t exactly a delicacy. There aren’t many edible bits on a rat either.” Rajn smiled weakly.

The woman ignored any further comments as she focussed on her task. She carefully administered the potion’s contents directly to the wound, making sure not to overdo the dosage. If drank as was usually the case, the potion would have never been strong enough to deal with a wound only half as bad since the liquid spread evenly and wasted itself on fixing inconsequential damage all over the body. If applied directly to the wound though, its effects were effectively concentrated where it mattered most. If too much was applied at one place though, the flesh would drown and the medicine would do more damage than it healed.

Before her eyes, the torn flesh reassembled and flowed back into its proper shape. It was a painful process, as evident by a few gasps and the tears that shone in the Bosmer’s eyes. When the miraculous healing was done, most of the wound had vanished as if it never existed, replaced by new flesh that had not yet taken on the signs of regular usage.
,,I don’t fix the skin normally as it is quite a bit more complex than it might seem. You’ll keep a few scars I’m afraid. Those can be removed at a later date by any healer though.” Erinus explained as she put the now empty vial on the table. It could always be filled with a different substance later.

,,Nah, that’s ok. I think I’ll keep them. As a reminder not to mess with really big dogs. Say, where’s the Dunm….” Rajn began but fell silent when her leg started twitching uncontrollably. Erinus smiled reassuringly.
,,Don’t worry about the twitching. There’s some new muscle tissue in there. It hasn’t yet learned how to respond properly. For the first few days, expect some odd movements like those while it learns how to function. Try to bend and stretch your leg as often as you can to help speed up the learning process.” She said, then got up and lit up the fire of the oven.
,,You’re probably hungry so I’ll make you something to eat.” She said over her shoulder.

To her surprise, the Bosmer was now staring at her still twitching leg with something that resembled sadness.
,,She should be happy to be still alive. I wonder what’s wrong?” The healer thought.
,,How do I pay? I don’t have any money. Neither does the other guy.” Rajn muttered, more to herself than to the Imperial.
,,So that’s it.”
,,Don’t worry about it. Aran is a good friend of mine and I’m happy to help out. His friend is my friend.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Ra'trith nears the Imperial City! Beware all who get in his way! Hehe, cool.

Great update as usual Jack, you're characters are developing nicely.