The man with green eyes, A story of a man Options

[McBadgere]

Awww... ...

Nicely done...Five hundred years old and still gets jitters talking to women... ...Fantastic!...

Love the name btw... ...

Lovely and sweet chapter...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Zalphon]

He's quite the lady charmer. *Raises Brow* Did he study at the Bard's College?

[mALX]

GAAAAH! You give just glimpses, it ends before it begins! Still, you seem to excel at setting a mood quickly in these tiny chapters, just enough that it leaves us wanting to yell, MORE !!! Awesome Write !!

[Saquira]

McBadgere: Thanks, I wasn't quite sure if I managed to make it sound realistic. The name Adrasteia is greek and means; "Who does not flee; the inescapable one", in case you want to know.

Zalphon: No, I don't think he did.

mALX: Thank you

So I'm posting two this time because the second is so short. Well, all of the stuff I post in this thread is short, but I like it that way. Anyways, I really love these two. The picture of Dirge falling into the water is so very appealing

4E 201, 23nd Last Seed

The thieves of the Ragged Flagon looked up from their card game when they heard the beating of boots against stone, and then wood. Dirge stepped in front of the dark shape coming out of the shadows. But, allowing her hood to fall down, Dar'Ilthi glared at the man and pushed him aside. Dirge fell into the water, and the rest of the thieves merely sat in shocked silence as the listener of the Dark Brotherhood stormed past into the cistern.

Her steps led her over the water of the cistern and past the people who were sparring. The person shooting with a bow was so shocked to see her that his arrow went wide from the target. Those who were training sword-fighting froze and turned to watch her.

She paid them no attention, but headed straight for the area just outside the vault, where the guild master was looking through the income reports. He looked up and started when he saw her, stepping back from the papers.

“Stay away from her,” the Listener growled and pushed him against the wall so that her retracted claws came dangerously close to his throat. He merely stared her in the eyes until the point when she growled in frustration and stepped back from him. Then the altmer touched his hand to his throat, so as to make sure it actually was alright, before stepping up to his desk again.

“Do you truly have so little faith in me?” he asked her, and she narrowed her eyes further before she stepped up next to him.

“Yes. And I've come too far to have you to destroy everything now,” Dar'Ilthi growled. Sorcalin shook his head and sighed as he looked up at her again.

“I don't mean her any harm, and why should I do what you say anyway?” he glared at her, and she glared back while leaning in close towards him.

“It doesn't matter what your intentions are, you leave bodies behind wherever you go! She has a task to complete!” The khajiit's voice rose to a shout at the end, and the elf's face got a forlorn expression.

“I don't need to be reminded of that. In any case, you can not expect to rule her life. You allowed her to leave you, now you have to deal with the consequences. The girl's the only one that can decide who she'll socialize with.” His eyes met hers as he looked her over, and a puzzled expression came over him. “You're afraid, you're afraid that your mistakes will make her fail. This is not about me,” By now his tone had lowered enough so that they were the only two who could hear each other. She started, and looked around to check so that it was really the case.

Then she turned back to him, fur bristled as she growled at him. “That's none of your business,” she spat at him.

“Just like it's none of your business who your daughter socializes with,” he shot back and she narrowed her eyes at him again. Her hands were down on the desk as she leaned towards him, and her claws were retracted once more, but they only thrashed a bunch of his papers when they glared at each other.

“I won't be held responsible for the outcome if I'm given the opportunity to kill you again,” she growled, and he gave a scathing smile in return.

“Likewise. Now, if you'd only leave, I have business to which I must attend,” he said, allowing the volume of his voice to increase so that the rest of the room could hear him. She cast a look around the room in which most of the thieves had gathered, weapons drawn or only half sheathed.

“Your subordinates will not always be here to protect you,” she said coldly as she sheathed her own claws and stood back from the desk.

“What makes you think I need them?” he asked coldly in return, allowing flames to engulf his hands just long enough for her to take notice, and she sent him one last glare before leaving the sewers.

4E 202, Unknown date

They're lying next to each other in the grass, the wolf on the other side of her resting as peacefully as he ever does. Sorcalin's thoughts are of her, of why he spoke to her in the beginning. Of why he'd continued to seek her out. Was it because she's Dragonborn, or because he knew her mother? He didn't think so then, and he still doesn't. Perhaps it was because of how she looked that first time, and how she's looked ever since.

She was in a dress amongst nobles, looking as out of place as anyone could. She spoke politely with everyone, yet the smile on her face was fake, just as his has been for many years. Perhaps that was the reason, because when he looked at her he recognized something he only saw in the mirror. Pain and sorrow, and the knowledge that whatever you do you can not get back what you lost. They're alive, but many times it doesn't feel like it.

She mentions the look on Ulfric Stormcloaks face the first time she met the man and he got to know that she's Dragonborn, he makes a funny remark, and she bursts out laughing. He can't remember ever hearing the sound from her, so he smiles, and then he's laughing as well. Something he hasn't done for many years. And he knows why he keeps talking to her and seeking her out. Because they're two sides of the same coin, they've experienced similar things and knows the same kind of sorrow. And both of them needs that carefree kind of relationship in which they've found themselves.

He's had partners, and he's had friends and affairs. But he's never had anyone in whom he recognizes himself. They're both magnets of trouble, and they've both been torn apart by their sense of duty. More importantly, they both have each others trust, something that neither of them dare give to more than a few.

They don't talk about the stuff that's caused their sorrow, they don't talk about her upcoming battle with Alduin. They talk about the shape of the clouds and who it was that stuck a stick up Maven Black-Briar's behind, what would happen if Stormcloak and Tullius became friends. And for once, they don't have to care about the people around them.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Jul 16 2016, 02:50 AM

[McBadgere]

Ooooh...Two sides here...The intense assassin and the man who loved...

Nice cameo from Ekali there btw...

The quiet fight between Sorcalin and Dar'Ilthi was nicely done...Great dialogue...Loved it...

Teeny Nit...

She's the only one who can decide whom she'll socialize with.

Either, "She's the only one that can decide who she'll socialize with"...

Or if you're definate about the whom, "She's the only one who can decide with whom she'll socialize."

Possibly the using of the two "she" is one too many...

Just saying is all... ...

I think you missed the s off the end of socializes a little later on as well...

Brilliant stuff... ...*Applauds again*...

[Grits]

Nice to see Dirge take a swim. Also fun to recognize Ekali.

[Zalphon]

A rather...blunt listener, but I like it. It's definitely odd for a member of the Brotherhood to be so confrontational, but it is a new way of viewing them.

[mALX]

The name Adrasteia is greek and means; "Who does not flee; the inescapable one",

Very powerful name then, I love that! Thank you for sharing that, very interesting fact!

[Saquira]

The New Currency: Thalms

The currency was first implemented on the Summerset Isle in 4E 22 when the Thalmor took control of the island and gave it the name Alinor. It wasn’t accepted as the main currency in most of Tamriel until 4E 175 when the Dominion finally brought the Empire to its knees. With the Second Treaty of Stros M’kai in 180, the currency was also accepted as optional in Hammerfell. By 4E 200, it had become the dominating currency in the whole of Tamriel.

Because it is very fatiguing to carry around lots of gold coins, several different ones with different values have been implemented since the currency was first used, and two banks have also opened up branches all over Tamriel. They allow you to deposit and withdraw money from any of their buildings, no matter in which building you’ve previously left your money.

Common use is to name all of the coins thalms, or to speak of them according to what metal they’re made of. The coins are as follows:

Small corundum coin worth 1 thalm. A dragons tail on one side, a dragons head on the other.
Corundum coin worth 50 thalms. A miner’s pick on one side, and completely smooth on the other.
Small silver coin worth 100 thalms. A bow on one side, and a V on the other.
Silver coin worth 1000 thalms. A cross on one side, and a shield on the other.
Small gold coin worth 5000 thalms. A longsword on one side, and the other is completely smooth.
Gold coin worth 10000 thalms. A crown on one side and a staff on the other.

[McBadgere]

Nicely worked out that...Well done!!... ...

*Applauds*...

[Saquira]

Merry Christmas everyone, I hope you have a pleasant few days.

This is a piece that I've been working on for quite some time, and I've finally decided that it's time you got to know a bit more of Sorcalin's past. Still only mentioned in passing, but it's something at the very least I'll go into more detail at some later time.

3E 383, 3rd Hearthfire

“I'm thankful that you could come at such short notice. The archmage herself recommended you, and though it might be wiser to take someone from the Arcane university, the only one I trust in that place is the archmage herself,” Uriel Septim VII said, putting some papers down to the side on his desk before looking up at the High elf as he came through the door. A guard closed it behind the man, though not before said guard had stepped in and taken up post by the door.

“I merely do as I'm asked, sire. It is an honour for me to help you in any way possible,” the man said, bending at the waist. When he did so, a glimpse of leather armour could be seen underneath the cloak, and the emperor raised an eyebrow as he noted this.

“The archmage did mention that, even though you aren't a member of the guild, you're a quite accomplished wizard. Would you care to give me some credentials?” he continued to ask when the other man straightened up again.

“I'm afraid it's quite a tedious story, my liege. I did act as adviser for Kintyra Septim I, before and after she became empress. But I'm afraid that's my greatest accomplishment. And my teachers long ago stopped venturing from their home, so I do doubt that you'd have heard of them from anything but storybooks. And storybooks can be quite inaccurate,” the Altmer, Sorcalin, said and smiled, at which Uriel VII furrowed his brow.

“She did mention that you knew quite a bit about the early Septim line. You wouldn't happen to have any experience with teaching?” The emperor gestured for the elf to sit in the chair near his desk, and the other man did as he'd been asked, putting one leg atop the other before he answered.

“I taught about the history of our people at the place of my birth for a few years, and I doubt it would take much to use those skills to teach about your history instead,” he said, and the Septim nodded as he pulled out a book from one of the shelves.

“And where is that exactly?” he asked, and the elf sighed.

“An island just outside Summerset,” he uttered quickly.

“Alright.” Uriel Septim stood still for a moment, thinking as he looked at the wizard. “During what time did you advise the empress? There's no records of anyone but her steward and the elder council,” he said when he looked at the elf again.

“I was never officially given the position of adviser, though she usually listened to me all the same. We met a few months after her eighteenth birthday, and though I greatly regret it, I could not be there on the day of her death. Kintyra I was a splendid woman, both when it came to her roles as mother and empress, as well as friend.” The emperor nodded thoughtfully at this, and preceded to ask the elf several more questions before deciding on whether or not he could be a good choice.

“Then there’s the matter of your being a vampire, I trust that you are able to keep your urges under control?” It was the wizards turn to look surprised as his eyes flickered to the door, likely expecting guards to burst through it at any moment. The emperor noted the look, but did not comment.

“So she told you that, didn’t she? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He smiled as he turned back to the emperor.

“Her loyalties are to me first after all, I believe she must have told you that at some point. In truth, our dear archmage have been helping me to keep a list of all the known vampires in the Empire, so if someone should go missing, we know exactly whose houses to search first. You’d do well to remember that.” Uriel Septim jotted something down on a paper in front of him before turning back to the vampire.

“She has, and I’ve not forgotten that, I can assure you. Neither have I lost my control once over the last two centuries, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Just out of curiosity, how many vampires are there within the city?” the Altmer asked as he watched the emperor.

“Six of them, including yourself, as well as an unknown amount in the city sewers. We’ve been working on rooting them out for years now, but they’re too many for it to be an easy task. And lord Imbel left a few days ago to go on a hunting-trip. I’ve of course sent vampire hunters after him just in case he tries to prey on humans.” The emperor spoke of the matter as easily as if though they were discussing the weather, and Sorcalin found himself watching the emperor for any signs of discomfort. Not finding any, he leaned back in his chair again. “Well, you mentioned that you were born on an island outside of Summerset Isle. You wouldn't care to tell me exactly which island? If it had a name of course,” The Septim emperor asked and the High elf in front of him grimaced slightly and sighed.

“I'm afraid it's quite well known, the islands' name is Artaeum. Though I can assure you that I’ve had no contact with them for the last few centuries, as my loyalties belong to the empire.” The emperor raised his eyebrows at that, staring at the other man for quite a while before talking again. He even managed to get the wizard to squirm in his seat, a feat that was not easily accomplished.

“Very well. I trust the archmage, and nothing you've said makes me believe that her trust in you is unfounded. I would like to give you the position as the teacher of my children, as long as you only teach them what I allow you to. I do not wish for the Psijiic order to have more influence than necessary,” he said, and the elf bowed his head.

“Of course, my liege. It is an honour to be gifted with the trust you've given me,” the elf answered him, standing up and bowing as the emperor sent for a servant. As the emperor of Tamriel then turned his attention fully to his papers, Sorcalin stepped out through the door just as the servant came down the corridor, and the human brought the elf away to show him his new quarters.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Jul 16 2016, 11:04 AM

[McBadgere]

*Applauds*...

Loved that...Your writing of Uriel is brilliant, as ever...

These bit of Sorcalin's past are so cool...I really like him...(Despite the vampirism... ...)...

Looking forward to more...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

[mALX]

I love the lore you wove into this chapter! The interaction between Uriel Septim and Sorcalin was like watching two men who both know they are powerful sizing each other up - Loved that scene!

[Saquira]

I've been working on this since before christmas, but couldn't quite figure out what exactly he'd have to talk with her about until a while ago.

4E 199, 24th Evening Star

The wind was blowing hard outside the wooden walls of the Dead Mans' Drink, sending up snow in large white clouds. It was a quiet place, especially considering it was Saturalia, and the few that talked did so at a low tone while the bard was working on restringing his lute. The majority of people in the inn were Nords, men and women whom had no-one to celebrate the holiday with, or whom had chosen to do so with their friends in the tavern. Only one non-human could be found in the room, and so suspicious looks came her way every now and then.

The door was thrown open suddenly, and many eyes found the man that stepped through. He was untroubled, lowering his leather hood and wiping snow of his clothes before stepping up to the bar. His hand put a handful of thalms on the desk before he spoke.

“A bottle of wine and a bowl of soup please,” the High elf male said with a smile, and the innkeeper nodded in response, pouring some soup from the nearby cauldron and handing it to him together with a spoon, a bottle and a glass. The elf took them with a simple thank you, and walked over to the table where the lone elf woman was sitting. She bent her head up towards him when he sat down, raising an eyebrow silently.

Screenshot

“Well, you certainly look better than when we met the last time,” he said and gestured in the direction of her face. She smiled, and the action accentuated the dimples she'd acquired over the years. The raven black hair on her head was cut short, and though she'd gained several scars over the past two centuries, she looked no more than five years the senior of the woman she'd once been. The hide armour fit snugly around her slim body, and a recurve bow rested against the leg of the table.

“What can I say, the life of a hunter suits me better than I thought,” she answered with a smile, leaning back in the wooden chair. The light thrown upon them from the fire gave her dark skin a warmer tone, but it also helped him see the tattoo in the shape of a hand that rested upon her forehead.

“So I see. What happened to your eyes?” Her smile faltered slightly when he mentioned it, his eyes meeting hers. He couldn't tell if she was looking at him, because a milky white mist covered them, and the last trace of the Dunmer red was long since gone.

“Animal attack. Amazing the kind of damage some claws can do,” she said with sullen mirth, smiling slightly when she downed the remains of the drink in her own glass. Sorcalin's lips turned up slightly, and he uncorked the bottle he'd bought and filled up both of their glasses, at which she raised her eyebrow again. “Now that's something I haven't seen for a century.” She smirked.

“Shouldn't you be blind?” Sorcalin asked with a puzzled look.

“I'm blind, trust me. But there are other ways to see than with your eyes. My other senses are all heightened, and I got some help to modify a life detect enchantment.” She raised her hand on which a silver ring rested before taking another sip from her glass as he started eating his soup. “Stone has the least amount of energy, then there's metal and dead tree. You'd be amazed at the amount of differences there can be in life energy. For example, your lips and eyes have a different tint than the rest of your face, which is how I know that you're smiling. It also changes depending on people's mood,” she said, sighing into the glass.

“Sounds useful,” the Altmer commented.

“If you can't see, yes. Anyone else would probably just get one heck of a headache though. I know what a nuisance the normal spell was. Took me a full hundred years to get used to it.” She turned her head to the fire, closing her eyes briefly as she felt the warmth against them. He smiled slightly at the sight, before her eyes snapped open again and she turned her head back to the High Elf. The smile faltered slightly, as the dimness in her eyes meant that he did not know whether she was looking at him, or something in her peripheral.

“So, how do you occupy yourself these days? Last time we met I recall that you were very active with the Synod and their business.” He smiled again at that comment, and took another sip of his drink.

“Well, that is one thing that certainly has changed. I left the mages years ago, and have apparently become something of a legend here in Skyrim. There are all these interesting rumours of who I actually am, though none of them are actually true. It's quite fun, and a nice change of pace. Mostly however, I run the Thieves guild operating out of Riften here in Skyrim. It's quite profitable if you know what you're doing, which I do of course. We're currently working on expanding the business into the other cities, though its taking some time.” He smiled as he finished, and the woman answered the smile with one of her own. “My biggest problem at the moment is the current Brotherhood listener, as she's quite volatile, but I'm hoping that we'll be able to get along. Though perhaps you could talk to her, you're quite the legend within the Brotherhood, are you not?” he said and smirked, at which she looked around briefly and narrowed her eyes at him.

“And that's something that I'd like to keep the same. There's a reason to why I've changed my name. Sithis only knows what they'd do if they knew I still live,” she muttered, taking another drink from the plain glass in front of her. He chuckled slightly, mirroring the action.

“I'd have thought the honest life would bore you, with all the adventures you used to be a part of,” he spoke before putting a spoon of soup in his mouth, and the woman grimaced, her milky white eyes narrowing at him.

“You forget the fact that I'd never known an honest life, nor a quiet one, when all of that began. Two hundred years ago I wouldn't have had the sense to take the opportunity when it was offered to me, because I'd been given no reason to dislike my life,” she said, staring into the wine as he ate of his meal.

“I know what you mean, if only in part. It doesn't take much to change a person forever,” he sighed when he finally managed to answer.

“Well yeah, I suppose you'd know all about that.” They fell quiet for a while, both of them silently thinking of those whom they'd lost, before Sorcalin finally shook his head and looked up at her.

“We're a fine sight, sitting here on the eve of Saturalia while discussing things that we'd both rather have forgotten.” He smiled slightly as he spoke up, and the Dark elf looked up, hardly being able to contain her smile.

“Yeah,” she muttered, looking down into her glass as she swirled the liquid slightly.

“So, there’ll be a new century soon. Do you have any plans for it?” The Dark Elf smiled at the awful attempt at small talk, but answered none the less.

“Not really. I might learn a new craft or move to another city, I don’t know, might even leave Skyrim. Hammerfell perhaps, as they managed to drive out the Thalmor,” she said, and Sorcalin nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, Hammerfell is certainly a nice place. I still think it’d bore you though,” he said, taking a bite of his food.

“Then what do you suggest?” she asked with a sigh, and he smiled back at her.

“Well Feli…” he began, stopping immediately when she raised her hand for him to stop.

“Don’t speak that name. It’d Fedura now, Fedura Hlaalu to be specific.” He raised his eyebrow at that, but didn’t comment on her new name.

“Well Fedura, what would you say if I offered you a job?” he asked finally, and she snorted.

“With the Thieves guild? No thank you, I’ve had enough of being a criminal,” she said with a sigh, and he looked impatient when he continued.

“Do you really think the only people I deal with are the Thieves guild? No, I have several… let’s call them private contractors, on my payroll. You’d be obtaining information, perhaps infiltrating certain factions. Delivering certain good across the border. Considerably less heat than assassination, if you ever get caught. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he finished, and by that time Fedura was looking at him curiously.

“Of course, you’ve never been able to leave others to take care of their own business,” she said, and he smiled.

“I suppose not. None the less, I think your skills should be used. If people think you're blind, they won't see you as much of a threat any longer, and you could use that to your advantage,” he said, finally finishing his meal and glancing at the clock hanging above the fireplace.

“Very well, I'll consider it,” she said with a sigh when he stood up, reaching his hand out for her to shake. She took it, answering his bright smile with a smaller one of her own.

“I'm glad to hear it. I need to be off now though, I've got a lot to arrange before the beginning of the new year,” he said and pushed the chair in after standing up.

“Very well. How did you find me?” she only just remembered to ask before he left, and he turned back towards her, already having walked halfway across the room.

“That, I'll only tell you if you accept my offer,” he said with a mischievous smile before turning around again and heading out through the door. It had swung closed again by the time that she came up with an answer. And because their last exchange had drawn quite a bit of attention, Fedura emptied her goblet before standing up and picking up her things. Then she left a few thalms on the table and headed outside into the cold air.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Jul 16 2016, 11:08 AM

[McBadgere]

Oh, how I have missed yer stories!!... ...

I loved the whole atmosphere in the inn, Falkreath is not the cheeriest place to start with... ...

I also loved the way you got around the milky eyes thing...That's some impressive workaround that is!!...Reminds me a bit of the film Daredevil a bit, but he needed noise to make a "Radar map" of someone's face...I love that you used the subtleties of the life-detect...*Applauds*...

Soooo, used to be an Brotherhood assassin...Bit close to the fire in Falkreath in't she?... ...

Not sure I liked the way he was all matter of fact about how she will decide to do this...But I'll forgive him... ...

Brilliant stuff, glad you managed to get some more out...I know you're busy, but I'm glad you're keeping going, even if it's only as and when...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Saquira]

Thank you If you didn't catch it, Fedura Hlaalu is Felisa Serhas, the main character of With Fate Uncertain and Bloodstained Hands. As such, when they talk about the fact that she used to be a member of the Brotherhood/Black Hand, they're talking about something that happened nearly two hundred years ago around the time that the 4th Era began. Very few people are going to recognise her, though Sorcalin is one of them.

And as it's been nearly two hundred years, I figure a lot has happened in that time. Those years are more than enough for two elves to get to know each other to the extent that Felisa and Sorcalin has, and as such he knows what she'd take offence to and how good of an offer he'd have to make her. It's also a very long time to spend as a hunter, so if I know her correctly - which I dare say I do - she was sold by the point when he began offering her a job. And I think he knows that as well. She knows the kinds of things he usually gets involved in, because she's witnessed a lot of it.

I don't think I've ever seen that movie. But I figured that with everything people can do in Tamriel, taking an enchantment a few steps further shouldn't be that hard. You definitely couldn't use it as a spell, but with large enough soul gems, enchanting a ring is mostly a question of money.

[mALX]

Coming to read soon, sorry it is taking so long to get here - just very busy right now. <3

[Saquira]

3E 390, 13th Sun’s Dawn

Despite the sorrow that lay heavy upon them, and the darkness that would not leave his heavy heart, the weather persisted in being the opposite. For the sun shone down upon them and only a few clouds where present in the sky to impede the path of its rays.

He stood before the newly dug grave, one he’d made with magic because he knew they couldn’t stay for very long, and wondered why he couldn’t cry when the tears had come so freely before. Though he knew the boys stood behind him, he ignored them. The pain that lay heavily upon his heart was enough, and he could not bring himself to look upon them and see the pity that they most certainly held in their eyes. He’d had enough of pain and sorrow and broken hearts, and he didn’t know if he'd be able to bear it.

His thoughts turned to Tharn against his will, the vile pretender that infiltrated the court and did who-knows-what to their emperor. The pretender from whom he stole the Septim heirs, who in return took the life of his wife. A sudden rage roared through him then, soaring through both heart and body, and for a moment he almost considered returning to the Imperial City to kill the man who tore his life apart.

But no, Tharn’s magic was so similar to his own that such an action would lead the Battlemage to the heirs, and they’re his responsibility. Besides, others were working to dethrone the imposter and bring back the true emperor and his interruption would not serve them in the least.

So he merely stood there, unable to cry as the rage roared through his veins, and then he raised one hand to slowly incant the spell that would fill the grave. When the surface was smooth, only slightly raised above the surrounding ground, he built a cairn of stones on top of it and wrote Adrasteia with Aldmeri letters on one of the larger stones as a promise that he’d return one day with a proper gravestone.

When it was all over, when Jagar Tharn had been dethroned and the emperor found, his heirs safe once again, then he’d return to the remote spot in the middle of the forest where the love of his life now rested. He wowed it in his mind, and then a hand placed on his shoulder squeezed and told him it was time to go. A deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily as a last tear slipped down his cheek, then he turned away and didn’t look back.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Jul 16 2016, 11:11 AM

[McBadgere]

Fair dues...A short and sweet return!... ...

Nice - though sad - interlude...

Thanks for the info in the previous post... ...I've been...Not really here meself lately, so I'd missed that...

Wonderful story, glad to see it's still ticking about the place...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

PS...More!!... ...

[Saquira]

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it

This next scene doesn't directly involve Sorcalin, but concidering the fact that Elyzara has a rather large impact on his life I figured it'd be best to post it here. Most of the other stuff I write about her will involve him as well.

3E 253, 12th Sun’s Dawn

Consciousness came slowly in the darkness, and though the changes were subtle at first they grew greater as she regained her senses. Her body felt like lead to her mind, but the confining closeness of wood was gone. The roof of her prison, the wooden lid of that infernal box, had been removed, and she put what little energy remained for her to use in order to sit up.

Finally having done so, she drew in a breath and surveyed her surroundings. The place was familiar to her, a crypt more grand than most, for it was the one built by her family during the second era. The Moorhart family crypt, situated only a few kilometers from the estate.

She remembered then, just what had happened before they put her in the casket, and there was a sound of crumpling paper as she curled her hands into fists. Sorcalin and his angry and panicked gaze, the elders raging on about why the laws were created. Then the man who she’d thought loved her, red-eyed now, turning away when they finally proclaimed the sentence and brought her out of the house. 200 years beneath the ground as a punishment for turning someone against their will. Longer because he was so influential, but how could she have known that he was one of the psijic?

The first time in the coffin had been excruciating, lying there for weeks as her body ran out of blood to keep it running. Scorching heat in her throat and being unable to quench the fire. Then finally, blessed oblivion as she entered the long sleep. There had been moments of wakefulness in which she’d pounded on the wooden lid before once again succumbing to the darkness, but she had never been fully awake during them. Now, the thought of 200 years having passed… It was incomprehensible.

A light flickered in the door to the entry hall, and footsteps sounded out to herald the coming of another person. When a man appeared in the doorway, she frowned, for she did not recognise the vampire. Her light-sensitive eyes had no troubles with seeing anything in the darkness, and it was a youthful face that greeted her. Aside from the lack of wrinkles – that only told of the fact that he ate regularly – there was a certain springiness in his steps and curiosity in his eyes that could only ever be found in someone who’d yet to face the many difficulties of life.

Her beloved had moved with a smooth gait, not hurrying nor spending any extra energy, for he had the time to live his life well. He was an elf, and thus blessed with a long life, unless someone robbed him of it prematurely. As she thought of him from her place in the coffin, a surge of anger clouded her gaze, and she imagined for a moment how it would feel to rip out his heart. The thought must have showed on her face, for when she looked at the young man again he was frowning.

“Lady Elyzara Moorhart?” he asked, and she smiled at him as she slowly stepped out of the wooden box. Her body creaked as she did so, her skin crinkling slightly where it was moved the most.

“Yes. And you are?” she asked as she finally managed to maneuver her fragile body out of the coffin, not really caring for the answer. She stepped onto the floor and found she was quite unsteady as she reached her hand out to the young man.

“I am Leon, my lady. I serve your brother,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it in greeting, wisely ignoring the texture of her skin as he straightened up and withdrew a bottle from the folds of his clothing. It caused her gum to itch, and once again the slow fire in her throat was brought to the front of her mind as her teeth began to lengthen slightly. The bottle was tightly sealed, but in her starved state her sensitive senses had no trouble in finding the faint scent.

“And what of my father?” she asked as she accepted the bottle, using her fingers to pull the cork out and then putting the bottle containing the exquisite life juice up to touch her lips. Wisely, the younger vampire waited to talk until she had finished the drink, finally licking her lips to make certain that not a drop was lost, savoring the intoxicating taste.

“He was lost on the field of battle some years ago, milady.” She stilled for a moment, then gave a brief nod – face still unchanged – and began her walk out of the crypt.

“I trust my chambers have been set in order, I’m looking forward to a bath,” she said, and the man nodded as he followed after her.

“Yes, and your brother has asked that you see him in the pavilion once you’re presentable.” She nodded, not truly paying attention as her feet followed the familiar path to her bedchamber. For her thoughts where many miles away, across the border in Cyrodiil, where the cause of her imprisonment was sure to reside. Only one thought held much value for her, the same one that’d kept her sane during her bouts of wakefulness. For there was no greater balm than that of sweet revenge, to once again taste the blood flowing through his veins and to tear that handsome head off his shoulders. Had she the choice, his suffering would be a mirror of hers, to writhe in pain as thirst tore him apart beneath the cold ground, but she was no fool. She knew very well of the power held within him, and so only through subterfuge and the power of surprise would she bring him down. And perhaps the surprise on his face would be enough to make up for the screams. Perhaps, for once, settling for second best would be enough.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Jul 16 2016, 11:15 AM