Dawnmoore Options

[ureniashtram]

Dawnmoore


{(-*-)}

***
'There is sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.'

-Washington Irving.

***

{(-*-)}

Why?

That question always remained with me the day my Father abandoned us. I remember the good ol' days, when I refused to wake up on the morning to go to school. I remember smilling mischievously when I was caught pulling off a prank. I remember the laughs my whole family had. I remember the stern faces of my parents when they were called to the principal's office when I got into trouble. I remember my Father's lewd advice about women. I remember the memories buried deep in the shadows of depression.

I remember the day my family was complete.

Before he ruined it all. Before he shattered it all into a million pieces that even the greatest blacksmith couldn't repair. I couldn't and can't erase that from my memory.

But I still want to forget.

I still want to forget the endless tears that poured down on my sister, brother and mother's eyes when he left that note. I still want to forget the nights when my mother came home dead drunk muttering that it was her fault.

I still want to forget that we had to eat dinner without him. I still want to forget the day I graduated from the University of Swords in Cheydinhal when my mother fell and kept saying my brother's name in honor, instead of me. I still want to forget the day I found my little brother's body hanging from the rafters, dead. I still want to forget the years that my mother blamed her sorrows down on me. I still want to forget the curses that she said to me when I made a simple mistake.

But most of all, I want to forget that I didn't feel anything anymore afterwards.

Because of him, I became cold. A broken shell of what I once was. Even now, I still couldn't have the smile on my sister's face. The caring expression of my mother. And my dear baby brother's laugh. His angelic giggles is now just an echo in my mind, a bitter reminder of the pain of betrayal.

All I felt now was just eternal sorrow's cold kiss and the never ending fires of hatred. And now.. they're all dead. And like my family, I'm dead. On the inside.

The happy-go-lucky Saeladyn Vaeryl they knew is long gone. Long, attractive black hair replaced by a short version of it. The smile that made girl's weak was replaced by a forlorn frown. The eyes that was steaming with life's fire has gone cold. The sight of a calculating monster made it's presence known through my crimson orbs.
Chaos followed my footsteps, while Fear made itself my words.

The light that surrounded me was no longer existent. Only the Void made me warm and welcomed. Corpses covered with black ash plagued the whole of Cyrodiil, all of my work. Crows feast on unfortunate outlaws that crossed my path. My deeds haunted the nights of several Generals of the Legion, including the pompous Phillida.

I... am the Blacklight. The instrument of the angel of Terror. The unknown assistant of Death. The jaws of the Void. The Blacklight.
******------****

1

--------------**

**Baralin's Cave, North of Lord Drad's Estate**

I nocked an arrow on my bow and aimed for the bandit leader's heart. I released and it found it's mark. The rest of them drew their weapons and looked frantically to and fro, searching where I was. I unsheated my shortsword and went to a couple of barrels that stood behind a large pillar made of stone. I carefully laid my bow and arrow to the ground, as they were useless in close quarters combat.

My target was only the leader, but if I 'dispose' the rest of his lackeys, my pay will be raised. Arquen never told me who wants this outlaws eliminated, but I don't get paid to know. I was only paid to kill. And by some rotten luck, one of the Khajiit bandits caught my shadow and alerted the rest of the group. What happened afterwards was a haze in my memory. All I remembered was slashing, maiming, screaming and the darkness that took me. I don't even know if I killed my target.

------
"Wake up, big brother. Rise and shine, c'mon."

"Saeladyn, get you're lazy butt up and prepare for school!"

"C'mon, Sel. If you wake up, I may or may not tell Ulene your crush on her."-----


I opened my eyes, and saw a rather large pillar falling on me. I rolled out of the way just in time, wondering why the pillar I hid behind was falling. Realization punched me hard on the face as the whole cave began to crumble. A cave-in on my head.
Once the pillar fell, a mist of dust extinguished the surrounding torches. I barely could see my own hands in this darkness. Tripping a couple of times, I finally got, to what I think, the entrance to hallway that leads to the exit.

It turned out to be a well lit place of well polished tombs, dismembered bodies of the bandits, including their half-eaten leader, undead and rotten zombies that charged at me the moment I stepped in.

I frantically searched for my weapon, only to have a swordless scabbard. I cursed under my breath and summoned my ancestor's ghost. At least great grandfather Winseril will hold them off until I could find my weapon. Impossible I know, but hopelessness wouldn't help in my situation. Only determination and a calm mind.

-----*****----------****------------

Light.

In this dark, hopeless cave is Light. Then it changed, transforming itself into a form. Of a lady. For once, I felt my heart beat. It beckoned me over, and I eagerly obliged. I even forgot to search my weapon, but it didn't matter anymore. As I came nearer, this mysterious lady floated backwards. The undead seemed to venerate this entity, as they bowed before her and let me pass without harm. It continued for some time, until I heard the familiar neigh of a horse. My horse. I wondered why I heard Nennhi's cry, until I saw a torch pinned on a wall. It was mine. Then-

It came crushing down to me like the pillar failed to do so.

"Mother!" I cried, rushing to her. She merely smiled forlornly and spread her arms, waiting my embrace. For the first time in ages, a small smile embraced my face. But the time I hugged her, I went through her. But still I heard the ghost of my mother say:

"No matter where I am, I will always be there to care for you, my son."

I went through her and crashed through a door. I shielded my eyes from the sun's bright rays that invaded my eyesight. I just lied on the ground, registering what happened back there. Then, I pulled out my map from my pocket. I searched frantically for 'Baralin's Cave' until my finger pointed at the Vaeryl tomb. My family's tomb.

Letting out a laugh I never had in ages, I whistled for Nennhi and went for Anvil.
Is it a coincidence that my mother's name 'Latte Rin' means 'Light' in Ayleid? Maybe. Or maybe not.

--------*****----****------

*The Count's Arms, Anvil*

---*

To Saeladyn Vaeryl, assassin of the Dark Brotherhood and Silencer of Speaker Arquen,

It has come to the Council's attention that our wretched enemies, the despicable Morag Tong, has been increasing their activities here in Cyrodiil. Speaker LaChance's Sanctuary have had 'problems' due to them moving into our territory. While we do know that you have some history with Cheydinhal, especially with a Dunmer named Damaren Uvon, we nonetheless assigned you to this important mission.

You are to find a Nord called Delyfrus Wall Fist in the Cheydinhal Bridge. He will ask you question, and you will answer 'The Market Tailors have been increasing their prices lately. Have you filed some complaints to the Council?'

After some faked hesistance, he will hand over a file and you will go to Speaker LaChance's Sanctuary and speak with an Argonian named Follows-The-Stars. Give him the file and you will be told your target.
Such matters are too risky to be written in ink. Forgive us if take desperate measures, dear Brother.

Burn after reading.

May you always feel the cold, unforgiving kiss of our Dread Father Sithis and the Night Mother.

The Black Hand.

---*

Damaren. Damaren Uvon.

The name struck me out and me spit on the ground the moment I laid my eyes on his name in this letter. I hope to Vivec, Sotha Sil, Almalexia and Nerevar that our paths cross again. I still have some unsettled scores the day he robbed me off blind. Damned mercenaries.
But still. The thought of battling fellow assassins piqued my attention. Stealth with stealth, dark against dark. I can finally use my skills against those who uses the same.
That's exciting for once.

"Bingo! Give me some Tamika 399, why don't you?" and at the same time, I readied my newly acquired dagger and relaxed my mind. A cloaked figure sat down beside me and I could already smell the scent of Ash yams surround him. That, coupled by his unusual cloak and dagger I reckon he's from Morrowind. A fellow Dunmer and an assassin. He's been tailing me the day I returned from my last mission.

"Tamika 399? What's are ye, a lady with menstruation?" he sneered. "Give'im a Surilie 402, barten'er." Bingo just stared at the two of us, confused. But this fellow dunmer is definitely from Morrowind. And I'm thinking, an Ashlander.

The accent gave him off. Feighing a gasp, I swirled and gave him a funny look.
I saw him tensed as I did so.
Professional assassins were never nervous, flinching or anything that might gave their cover during their work, unless they're two things. One, they're amateurs. Two, they're ham acting and deceiving their target.

He's the former, because suddenly caressing your weapon in front of your target would yield great suspicion, not intimidation. Especially if your target's an experienced Brotherhood Silencer.
I secretly slipped my dagger into my back pocket and crossed my arms across my chest. I wore only commoner clothes, so I have to be the dodging type if the need arises.

"Excuse me, muthsera, but who, in the blue kinky Aetherius, are you? I came here to enjoy the evening, not argue with some Guar-dung-eating sonofabitch like you." taunting your opponents would break their cycle of concentration, calmness and their prowess in combat.

Making them more intent on killing, and also making them more clumsier. A technique used by many great assassins. Simple, yet very effective.

"I- I... I just.. remarked th-", accents suddenly changing? Whoever he was, he was good at changing the way he speak, but he is still a stupid rookie. While he was stuttering and stammering, I could already think of twenty ways to dispose of this annoying gnat. By my bottle. Eight by using a chair. Twelve by my hand.

"Are you finished?" I abruptly cut him off, before I introduced a bottle full of poison on the top of his head. No doubt he will be more clumsy, unable to evade my attacks. Bingo and the other patrons just distanced themselves and watched the fight. Some even cheered. Some even made bets.
I grabbed another bottle, made him grab the tip by his mouth and smashed it into smitherins. He groaned and spat a bowlfull of blood. He muttered some incoherent words, begging I think, but I have no mercy upon those who worshipped the wrong deity.

I wasn't even done yet. He picked the wrong Assassin to tail.

I stomped on his head for minutes, until I calmed myself. Panting for a few seconds, I grabbed the dunmer by the tip of his torn hood and went for the exit. It was night, so there aren't any patrols, at least not yet. I didn't even used my dagger.

Finally finding a blank and muddy corner, I tossed him to the ground before I searched him. For minutes, I opened every pocket of this amateur, before my hand grasped a letter. A rough, bloodied letter with the symbol of the dreaded Morag Tong.

I opened it and felt my blood ran cold.

---

We are waiting, Blacklight. No doubt you killed Shesalain, our medical advisor. If so, watch your back.

----

The rest of the evening, I spent with extra cautiousness. If they are 'waiting', then no doubt they are watching too. But 'Blacklight'. That was the moniker given to me by the Listener. And the Black Hand. That was supposed to be Forbbiden Knowledge amongst outsiders. Why would they know about that.. Unless...
I heavily cursed under my breath and ran as fast as I could towards the Anvil Sanctuary, whistling for Nennhi along the way.

------****

-----
**
------
The Black Door was opened before I even got there. There was an eerie silence about, and something about it was not right. While we assassins prefer silence, this one's unusual. The Dark Guardian, Vel-Rakis, wasn't even strolling along the hallways. Too silent, for my taste. Good thing I wore my black cloak, it helps me calm my mind and shield me away from light.

The halls blackness calmed my mind. Two pillars holding the building together, and a table covered with silk linen. To the right of the table, stood a door. It lead to another hallway, that connects to the main lobby.

As I entered the iron entrance and crept at the hall, I felt like I was being watched. Like a predator stalking it's prey. What an ironic situation. Nevertheless, I readied my dagger and 'Elixir of Black Seeing', a potion that will make the drinker invinsible and see life in half a mile. It will also release a black mist the moment you become invinsible. Truly a good stuff.

That's when I heard muffled footsteps from behind me.

Assassin's best friend is always some hidden weapons. I threw some throwing knives at a figure, who suddenly appeared right beside me, and it found it's mark between he's eyes. It saved my life countless times, and I'm sure it will make mine safe while it took another's. I swirled again and saw a bright purple hiding behind some barrels. Fool. I soundlessly crept towards him, until I was behind the fetcher.

I tried to slid my dagger to his throat, but by some rotten luck for the asswipe, I didn't felt the cold sting of a dagger on the back of my throat.
I fell there, like a ragdoll.
Paralyze poison, not bad. Whoever this is, this guy's fast and cunning. As my face kissed the pavement, I heard him whisper. It was laced with malice, intelligence and elegance. A perfect combination, if I do say so myself.

"That was some interesting techniques, Dark Brother. But it will not work on the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong."

Many assassin's worst enemy is themselves. Feeling too confident will result in their death. In my case, to unconsiousness.

----**

"You'll pay for this, you scum-filled meatbags! If I weren't tied up, I'd decapitate all of you and gorge myself on your remains!" I couldn't see who said that, seeing that I am blindfolded and bondaged, but I know that it's Arquen, our Speaker. If they had her locked up, then they must be a very skilled bunch. They are Morag Tong after all, distant and hated cousins of the Dark Brotherhood.

One voice laughed, and I heard a muffled groan from a girl. And a sound that made me url. She moaned. And the sound of flesh hitting flesh erupted, before disappearing after a few minutes.

"I'm done torturing this girl. Won't part her lip, including if something entered it by force! I never really liked Nords in bed." Godsdammed bastards! If I get out of here, I'll slit their throat and feed them their own dung. But first, I need to calm my mind. Make them believe you are doing what your told, and when their backs are turned, strike. Simple, yet very effective. But it isn't very effective if I'm tied up, eh? Damnit, I need to find a way to free myself and the others.

"Harash, don't you think that's enough?" it was the voice I heard before I passed out. The Grandmaster. I could already feel the hate emanating from Arquen. I mean, who wouldn't be? Being tied up in your own base, forced to watch your subordinates beaten to a pulp or raped to a pulp. I don't know if she too is blindfolded, but that's anyone's guess.

"You.. So you're the Grandmaster of this rag tag outfit, aren't ya? I'm gonna enjoy feasting on your burned flesh. " she growled.

"Arquen, the cannibal. A demented Speaker. Yes, I've heard alot of you.. And none of them good. Hanging a burnt corpse on a lamp post, cannibalizing a dead Bosmer in front of his children.. Oh, and making an altar of your Night Mother by using dismembered pieces of a human being. Sheogorath's demented side will be mortified of you." he chuckled. But it was not a chuckle made of happiness or what not. No, it was a chuckle laced with distorted amusement.

"Good. But you haven't heard the part where I killed eight people and placed their whole bodies on spikes. Oh, did I also tell you that I decapitated my assistant and smeared it all over the Black Door? He was the brains of this Sanctuary's operation!" she laughed a very, very demented and psychopathic laugh. It sent chills down on my spine.

"Yes, good for you. But, I did not come here for idle chit-chat. I came here to retrieve an artifact, a dagger called 'Dawnmoore'. Perhaps, you know it's whereabouts? A certain.. deity wants it."
I heard spit hitting the ground, presumable from Arquen.
But how did they know that?
Only high ranked members and the Black Hand were permitted to know it's history. It was said that whoever wielded Dawnmoore, they can open portals to other Realms, including Sithis' and Aetherius. It was made by Lorkhan, they say. The Dragonfires seemed useless against it. Only the most sinister faction like the Morag Tong would claim Dawnmoore. But what would they want with it, I wonder.

"You honoured user! Where did you learn that?! Is there a spy that gave this information? Tell me now scum, or I will enjoy myself by playing with you!"

"Playing? I'm sorry, but I'm celibate. But, yes. There is an inside man working for us. I'll give you a hint. I follow the moon and.. You can guess the rest, m'dear."

"Follows-The-Stars! That traitor! Once I get outta here and kill you, I'll massacre the entire Cheydinhal Sanctuary!"

"Nuh-uh, shlubnut. Where does he belong to? Who owns Cheydinhal's underworld? Who is lucky enough to be near Morrowind? To be near us?" I assumed he laughed, seeing as I heard an amused chuckle erupt.

"That Imperial pig!" for once, I was awestrucked. Lucien Lachance being the traitor. It took me a couple of minutes to register what I heard.

But still, I was speechless. LaChance being the traitor. Several of our Brothers and Sisters found murdered near LaChance's territory. I guess it is connected somehow, the hamster cave s'wit. I wonder if they bribed him or intimidated him? The former, seeing that LaChance's finance were stooping low due to the recent weeks of denial. But selling your own Family to a bag full of gold? That's something the Listener won't abide to... The Listener!

"Ooomhh.. Ah Iiier. Ooommh!" I tried to form out a sentence but all I got was muffled sounds. Footsteps approached me, I felt a hand untieing my blindfold and gag. The hand pulled, and I closed my eyes to the light that suddenly invaded my vision. It appears the torches was re-lit. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes. And suddenly wished I didn't.

In front of me was the body of a female Nord, beaten to the point her mother wouldn't recognize her. To the left, several Brothers and Sisters sat on the ground and were tied up, some unconsious and some wriggling to get free.

To my right was a bench, with several throat-opened bodies sat. Arquen sat next to them, tied. I looked up, not wanting to see my surroundings anymore, and came eye to eye with the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong.
A dunmer with very handsome features and a red mohawk hair, he has a scar running down to his forehead down to his lower left lip. He wore a exquisite red cloak, with golden designs of leaf and flower at the hems.
He also wore jet black greaves, with boots made of crimson warming his feet. He was flanked by another figure, who only wore a body-length brown cloak, who I presume to be Harash, the smug honoured user.

"Ahh, Blacklight. You're awake, great amateur." he said sacrastically, "I never thought you would wake up from my.. friendly gesture." he humorlessly chuckled under his breath, while maintaining a straight face. I just gave him a feral look.

"The Listener! What have you done to him!" I screamed at his face, smilling inwardly as a few droplets of spit embraced his face. He merely closed his eyes, took out a hankerchief and wiped it. He opened his palm and fire engulfed the object. Even though it was now mere ashes, the fires still continued.

"Where are your manners, boy? I thought your Family taught you to treat guests properly?" for a moment, I went berserk the second he mentioned my family. I lunged at him, spat at him and cursed him. And he was just amused. But I managed to calm myself, and think this whole ordeal through. A few minutes later, I knew what I would do and not what to do.

Being calm always saved my hide. I felt the ropes that bind me and they were leather. I scanned my surroundings and the hostiles are just two and more outside, but the door that connects outside is soundproof. I should know. I checked any flaws on my plan, and sure enough, it was a fifty-fifty idea.

"You think you can keep me tied up? Well you got one flaw to remember." I muttered, filled with venom and threats. He just raised his eyebrows and at the same time, my bonds became ashes.

"I can also use Magick, moron." and I lunged at him, ignoring the mildy suprised look on his face. As we landed to the floor, I summoned a skeleton guardian and ordered it to hold off Harash. Assassins maybe deadly, but in actual combat, they are weak. I'm an exception, seeing as I once worked as a mercenary but that's another story.
Right now, I focused my attention at the dunmer beneath me and punched the Grandmaster twice in the face, and muttered the most powerful Paralyze spell I could cast. My pointy ears picked up bones being crushed, and turned just in time to avoid bloody fragments of Harash's skull.

"We're even now, rookie." I spat on his panicked face. Sure enough, he remained rooted to the spot. I unsheated his unusual dagger and went for Arquen. She was smilling when I broked the Grandmaster's nose.

"Good thinking, Vaeryl. Now, hand me the dagger so I could finish him off." I stopped halfway and gave her a doubting look. She tilted her head and asked why I stopped.

"We need him alive, Speaker. If we can question him, maybe we can snatch off many vital informations." she just growled and nodded her head. I freed her from her bonds, and she rushed at the prone body of the Grandmaster and began working on his face. It was brutal. Biting, clawing and punching. He was unconsious in a matter of seconds. Oblivion hath no fury on a woman thirsty for blood.

I now believed that saying.

While she was playing with him, I studied the dagger. It was long for a dagger but short for a shortsword. It was beaming with destructive magicka and I already knew what this is. Mehrunes' Razor, the legendary artifact that once rightfully belonged to the Dark Brotherhood. Lost by some ancient internal strife, it was stolen by a Dunmer and he fled to Morrowind, the land of the Morag Tong. But now, it is ours again.

---****

It was hours before Arquen and the rest of the Sanctuary finished roughing up the Grandmaster. We also disposed the rest of the Morag Tong outside. And in that time, we only got his name, Daeryn Asveri, and more questions rather than answers. I think it's time I questioned him.

Sheer sadism and violence would get us no where. It will make more problems rather than solve it. I think the Brothers and Sisters joined because they can kill outright. I mean, I joined because of that too, but I wouldn't let that thing get into my head. Pointless killing isn't in my book.

I entered the playing room, dagger in my hand, and moved just in time to evade the severed finger of the Grandmaster. Damn. Arquen's really want Asveri to feel pain, huh? I just hope her plan doesn't backfire. I mean, for all we know this Mer could be an impostor and stalling us. And judging from his unmasterly mistake earlier, I'm vouching for the idea. I sheated Mehrunes Razor and went to Arquen.

"Ahh, Vaeryl. I guess I can spare a few hours of playing to let you talk to him." maybe she can read my mind. Nodding at her when she walked past me, I sat on a chair that stood right in front of the fingerless and bruised body of Daeryn Asveri. His handsome features were maimed so badly, I thought he was a different person the moment I walked in. His legs were facing the wrong direction, as was the both of his arms. The brutality of the Dark Brotherhood is legendary.

I coughed to get his attention, only to get a moan as an answer. I think I should go straight to the point.

"Alright. Are you an impostor?" I asked straight away. He raised his eyebrows, while both of his ears perked up. For minutes, we just stared at each other, waiting for a reply. Well, I was waiting for a reply and he was.. I don't really care what he thinks. All I care is finding out who he really is.

".. If I told you to ask Arquen to give me one night of pleasure, what would you do?"

"I thought you were celibate?"

"She.. got some.. Argh, nice body. It makes me mad with desire. I think I have some unhealthy obsessions about women torturing me. That's all I got to.. say to you." Oh. So he wants to play that game, huh? Well, guess what. I'd been yearning to try out some techniques taught to me by a friend.
Cut some thin lines around and inside his mouth and see if he can say some more funny one liners. How about cut off another set of thin lines, like strands of his beautiful hair, around his eyes so that everytime he closes it, he feels an indescribable pain. Oh, and how about some forced smile on his face.

The Blacklight smile, a technique used by the millitary on the city of Camlorn, in High Rock, to decrease the moral of those who they consider their enemies.
What a strange coincidence. Me, called the 'Blacklight' due to the black ashes, that glow in the dark by the way, that I leave when I succesfully completed my contracts. And the technique.

After I was done playing with him, I asked him again.

"I said- Aaaagghhh! My mo- Aaaaggh!" he screamed in pain, obviously. I forgot to tell him that screaming doesn't help. All he could do now is just scream and feel more pain or he could just nod his head and be done with it. It went for hours, until his throat literally bled. He coughed some blood before he winced in pain. That's what you get for invading our Sanctuary. He won't walk, he can't use his hands and most of all he will feel pain everytime he blinks and opens his mouth. Permanently. If he doesn't co-operate.

"I'm gonna ask you again. Are you an impostor?" this time, I kneed him 'where the sun don't shine' to prove my point. He closed his mouth to restrain himself from screaming. I studied him for a moment, and I noticed droplets of blood pouring down on his face. I smirked. He was crying.

A few minutes later, he nodded his head.

"I thought so. Is there any remaining Morag Tong about?"

"In Brav- Aaagghh!" so he's getting more co-operative. That's a good sign. Maybe I'll give him a merciful kill.

"Bravil?"

He nodded and I slit his throat. I now have no use for an impostor with no useful information. I know why they're here, know their objective and knew where they are. I called out Arquen and she frowned when she entered the room. I guess I robbed her chance of killing the 'Grandmaster'.

"So," she says, "What have you found out?"

"An impostor, dear Speaker. And the Morag Tong seems to be in Bravil." the moment I finished that sentence, her eyes widened. I asked her if it was something I said, but she vaulted out of the room and went outside. I followed her, but she was fast. I managed to track her trail, leading to the stable. Sure enough, a black cloaked figure rode on a brown mare with speed. I whistled for Nennhi and once she was near, jumped to the saddle. With haste, I followed Arquen, leaving a Sanctuary full of flabbergasted murderers.

-----****

Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora's Realm.

----****

"The family of Era'sh Dyleen. 'The Family of Deities' in the Forgotten Tongue. The father being the Doomdrum, Lorkhan. The wife being Mara, the Divine Goddess. And the offsprings.

Salidariel, the eldest of them all. She rules the element of Ice and is very seductive, according to the accounts of.. recently passed spirits. She takes the form of a young woman, dressed in a rather revealing dress. She suddenly became rampant, attempting to invade Tamriel and Aetherius.

Second oldest siblings are Hastingeal and Asfrid. Let's start with Hastingeal. According to some.. historians he is the most well known of the siblings. He is worshipped by the Argonians as the King of the World Ocean. And they're not far from wrong. His body is thought to be the sea itself.

Asfrid is known to the Nords as the Earthly Lion, due to his courage. It was said that he, alone, paved the way for Ysgramor and his sons. Since then, he became a General for the Armies of Skyrim, hiding his true identity at the same time. He then disapeared, going to who-knows-where. He takes the form of an elderly Nord, with beard so hard, he was given the moniker 'Asfrid Stone-beard'.

The third oldest sibling is Fandrelin, the Elemental God of Fires and Mayhem. During the time when Veloth lead his people to Resdayn, he alledgedly went to war with Mehrunes Dagon, who at that time ruled Akavir. This is called 'The Great Release', due to Astar Raka, grandfather of Tosh Raka, and his ilk siding with Fandrelin, thus rebelling against Dagon. He mysteriously disappeared after that, leaving Ashindusk a ruler-less and lawless kingdom.

The form Fandrelin takes is mysterious, even to me. Some.. spirits tell that he takes the appearance of a tall Chimer with spiked armor. Some even say he took the form of a demonic red-skinned giant with only greaves and boots on.

The next sibling is Jureni, the God of Thunders and Energies, and is the most controversial of them all. It is said that he managed to stop the first attempt of the invasion by the mad Salidariel by ruling Ashindusk. It is even rumored among the Princes, that he had an.. affair with the Queen of Dusk and Dawn. But after all, it is rumor.

He takes the form of an otherwise normal looking Dunmer with a ponytail.

Next is, Laeg'Reval. Also known as 'The Crying Child of Chaos'. Not much is known about him, other than the moniker.

And the last is.. 'Blacklight'. He isn't your elemental god or what not, but he is still a deity. A God of Terror and Mistrust. And that is the only known.. accounts of him." the Librarian finished by closing a book, and looked straight at a figure who is dressed in a black cloak. He was impressed by this Dunmer. Entering the realm of Forbidden Knowledge is impressive enough, but asking a boon and requesting to meet Hermaeus Mora himself? Truly this puny creature is brave for one such as his race.

"Anything else?" the spirit of the Librarian asked.

"Yes. What do you know about Dawnmoore, it's whereabouts and it's history?"

****-----

I rode for three days, encountering the occasional wildlife and bandits. It hindered me, but I managed to catch up. Well, whatever it is on her mind, she sure is rushing about it. But after all those days, I felt something following me. It's not like something I felt before. It's.. terrifying, chaotic even. I mean, my mind is like that, plus the calculating bit, but it's new to me. It's probably that I didn't slept for hours. Lack of sleep can do that you, they say.

And can also null your senses. But not me. There was a rustling sound that erupted from the grass, left of my current position. Nennhi seemed to sense their or it's presence as well. She neighed in distress. And can only mean one thing.

This one or ones isn't friendly.

And apparently, they can appear and reappear. They wore golden-colored masks, eloquently designed, that covered half of their faces. I don't know what race they are, but it's not a human or mer. Their head are like wolves. Their whole bodies are wrapped in golden blue robes, and in their hands are staves made of silver.
Whoever they are, they got some serious Magick. And I can't move. Even Nennhi. A Paralyzation spell.

Fortunately for me, the chaos and terror that followed me was on my side. Black mist engulfed them, and they screeched like animals. Literally. The mask they wore was ripped off, revealing fanged mouths. The robes they wore was torn from their bodies, introducing a furred torso. Mage Werewolves?

And in an instant, they vanished. Like the mist. I don't really know why I'm attacked by Werewolves who used Magick, or why I've been saved by some mists who look suspiciously like the mist of 'Elixir of Black Seeing', but my gut tells me it will be answered soon.

For now, I rushed after Arquen.

---***

I finally saw the rusty walls of Bravil. Arquen's trail lead here, her horse is here and I can pretty much guarantee that she's here. As I neared the bridge that lead to the main gate, the sewer's stench made me wince and gag. No wonder many criminals use this city as their hideout. It is filthy like themselves. The place literally spelled out sluggish. Heck, I think it's even contagious, seeing as the gate Guards was dozing around. Flirting with the stable girls. And they didn't even noticed the stench. I guess you can get used to it.

But still, they are a pathetic excuse for Guards.

No wonder this town is controlled by the underworld of society, criminals like us. But that doesn't mean I get to like this pathetic excuse for a city. For a moment, I studied the guards. They seemed to talk, stand and move like criminals. Talking loud, not giving a horse manure about the world that surrounds them, acting like they're the boss, completely abandoning their post..

It didn't take long for me to understand that they are criminals. I wonder why. Probably on an operation, an info-gathering operation at that. I still didn't care though. It's not like it's my problem. That's the problem of the Count of Bravil, Regulus Terentius, and he is probably getting drunk and hitting at the maids. I can tell, I've seen it before.

Pushing out such thoughts out of my mind, I got off of Nennhi and beckoned one of the stable girls over. A Breton, a pretty little creature in her late twenties, approached and smiled at me. She swung her neck long red hair around while taking my horse, narrowing her hazel eyes when she looked at me and shaking her hips when she turned around. One of the 'guards' whooped, while I rolled my eyes.

I know where this is going.

"Thanks, here's your tip." I said, tossing her a few coins. She 'barely' managed to catch it, bending around to pick it up. And in the process, revealing some things that will corrupt some young men's mind. Did she ever heard the word 'underclothes'? This is just intentional, probably to get some more money out of travelers. I just shaked my head. Such underhanded tactics. I managed to restraint myself to ask her, 'Why not sleep with them straight away? You can get more money out of that, believe you me.'

"Ooh, I think I'm the one who needs to thank you. And I'll promise to take good care of you..r horse." she purred. I just exhaled out of my nose.

Murdering thousands of people? I can live with that. Hiding in the shadows for the rest of your life? Sure, why not. But stable girls? Bah! I never really liked seductive women. It takes out the thrill of knowing you're the first to sleep with her, after all, you may never know because she's seductive. But still, she's beautiful, for a stable girl that is.

I tried not to think anymore of it and passed the guards and stable girls to enter Bravil.

****-----

The streets were deserted. Shops were closed, no people was about and only the guards seems to wander. Their eyes took on a misty look, like they are far away. And most of all, the Chaos and Terror that followed me earlier, is following me again. However, it's presence was so strong here, I had to look over my shoulder many times if I was being followed. Whatever's happening here, it didn't affect the outside, it seems. And that's what worries me the most. I tried to ask the guards what was going on, but they responded with:

"It has begun."

"Prepare yourself for the coming Maelstrom."

"Chaos. Be drunk with Chaos."

That is creepy. Never before have I been creeped out in my entire life. I just steered clear of them, knocking on the door of a huge Inn while doing so. There was a sound like people whispering and a gigantic lock being, unbolted. The door opened and I was greeted by a large Nord. At his back, was four scores of people dressed in all types of clothing tugging at each other, fearful of something. The inside of the Inn looked like a refugee camp. Tables turned, chairs used as fire and bedroll littered the place. I also noticed that this was a four story building.
Some even brandished weapons, from sharp pitchforks and rusty axes to magical staves and highly made longswords.
It made me want to leave. I mean, I can hold my own against several enemies, but a mob against a lone assasin. I'd probably end up killing twelve of them before getting killed myself.

"Umm.. Are you open for the night?"I asked. "I can pay for, umm, three days and two nights." I cut off my purse and tossed it to him. He looked at me carefully and at the people who nodded at him. After a few minutes of staring at each other, he suddenly leapt at me and gave me a bear hug.

"Welcome to Resistance, Bravil branch, my boy. I'm so glad that another joined us." he roared in his Nord accent, a joyful one at that, while the people out back sheathed their weapons. They all went back to their business, leaving a very confused Assasin. Me.

"Forgive me for my ignorance, but what is going on? " I inquired him. He just looked at me like I popped out another head and cannibalized myself for a few minutes, before laughing out loud. After he was done lollygagging, he closed the door and beckoned me to a seat.

"Where you from, boy?" his tone suddenly became serious, as his demeanor. I told him a fake story, that includes the name Daerun Ansabshunnani, that news travel slow and a fake village near the border of Morrowind that is pretty much boring.

"Aah, an Ashlander. Don't get many of those around these parts. Anyway, here's some news that will shake yer bones. Imperial City, burned to the godsdammed ground by some group called 'The Everdawn Crusaders'.
They attacked the city by using all kinds of crazy stuff. Flying mounts, mages walking on the air and raining fires. Cheydinhal lent some reinforcements, only to be ransacked and raided numerous times by the 'Sons of Von Hammer'. Werewolves by the way. They managed to hold out, but finally succumbed as the rain of fires engulfed the whole city.

Chorrol was also destroyed. Poor Oreyn, he fought valiantly until the end.

Leyawiin, Skingrad and Kvatch is currently the safest cities you'll get, as the whole of the Arcane University is in there. Cyldrin Ashtree leads the defense of Skingrad with the help of the 542th legion of Battlemages. Leyawiin hasn't been attacked yet, as they have to pass through us to get there.

Kvatch is lead by the leader of the 84th legion of Hell's Hand, Sardil Asral. Attacks have been made, but was succesfully repelled. I don't know about Anvil, because we haven't heard from them in a month."

I was dumbstrucked. I don't know what to do. Am I going to search for Arquen or help these people. I thought about it, and I couln't help but ask:

"What day is it today?"

"Twenty one of Morningstar, Fourth Era."

We're in trouble.

"Umm, about the guards. What happened to them?"

"We don't really know. They just started screaming some.. things and now that's what they become."

"What about the outside? I noticed the stable girls and guards are.. quite calm about the situation."

"Oh, Dalriene's bunch. They're our best warriors and archers, former outlaws though. So if the lunatics, who slapped us in the face by burning down the Imperial City and killing our loved ones, ever attack, theire numbers will be lessen faster than you will ever know."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------****

I'm done with this long chapter. As you can see, I twisted the history of Tamriel for my own, greedy needs. Ha-ha-ha. Seriously, it took me a week to finish this chapter. And a year if I'm going to finish this new story of mine. I had trouble creating Saeladyn. His very life is Chaotic. I had days of trouble trying to write his views on factions, like the Dark Brotherhood. He came to experience what it was like to kill somebody, but also trying to not get that in his head.

Oh, and this is also my second attempt at First-Person-Perspective, but I can't help but feel that some of the sentences are.. losing their purpose? Like, it doesn't make any sense. Bah, that's just lack of sleep to you, is all.

And, as always, all of my stories are connected to say the least. Forever Unwanted, Blue O Mercs and An Orc's Biography storylines are going to be mentioned.

Constructive criticism, helping me by picking up some nits and funny one liners are welcome.

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Jun 1 2010, 01:13 PM

[Remko]

I enjoyed it. it's dark and quite brutal.

[ureniashtram]

Thanks, Remko. I never really placed so much gore in my stories, but this is a unified project, if I even know what that means.

[mALX]

Your storyline is riveting! Very fast moving, dark and brutal as Remko said - I am intrigued by Saeladyn Vaeryl. A great start!



One Liner: "I thought I was wrong once, but I was mistaken."

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 1 2010, 04:53 PM

[Destri Melarg]

I realize that English is not your first language, so I am quite impressed with how well you use it. I will not point out errors of grammar and syntax unless you want me to. As for the content, this starts off as one thing and ends up as something else entirely. At first it seemed like this was just another Dark Brotherhood vs. Morag Tong story. But what you describe in this chapter almost seems like the inner workings of a Dragon Break or a ‘Warp in the West.’ It also seemed as if things were just being thrown in to provide atmosphere (like the attack on Saeladyn on the road). Having read to the end of the chapter I now know that you have a definite plan for this story and where it will all lead, one that I am interested in discovering.

I was intrigued by the family history that the Librarian gives his mysterious visitor in Apocrypha. At least I hope that the identity of the visitor was meant to be mysterious. If that was Saeladyn, then you need to re-visit that section so that the action flows from Saeladyn’s point of view instead of the Librarian’s.

One liners? In addition to the one that mALX already quoted, a few caught my eye:

“Excuse me, muthsera, but who, in the kinky blue Aetherius are you?”

He just looked at me like I popped out another head and cannibalized myself for a few minutes, before laughing out loud.

I’ll have some more, please!

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Jun 2 2010, 01:15 AM

[ureniashtram]

@mALX: Hey, thanks. And yes, this is going to be brutal. More so, in the next chapter I'm currently working. And that one-liner... haven't I heard that before somewhere?

@Destri: Oh. My. Goody Gawd. A criticism from the exalted writer of Interregnum? I feel so honored, I could hug Fargoth and be shocked the next day afterwards! Lolz.

Yes, I come from the Pearl of the Orient, and some of my colleagues commented on how well I can speak and write English.

And yes, this may seem to start off as an Assassin story and end up changing the whole continent of Tamriel, but I assure everyone that the Morag Tong have a purpose on coming to the war-torn Cyrodiil.

I mean, for all we know, the 'deity' that Daeryn Asveri could be anyone. It could be Tosh Raka, I'm not sure if the Dragon-Cat is a deity or something but steadily ruling a place filled with powerful forces could be one.

Or Talos. Maybe he was getting tired of the boringness of his Job.

Or Malacath, because he was tired of being an Outcast and wants the spotlight on him?

Or maybe even... Well, I guess you have to stay tuned, eh?

[SubRosa]

Okay, finally finished it. As others have noticed, a very dark piece. I thought the very beginning, where Saeladyn is bitterly reminiscing over his family, was the best part. It was the most personal.

Out of many good quotes, this one stood out to me as particularly good!
"Tamika 399? What's are ye, a lady with menstruation?"

I saw some errors in spelling and grammar. But honestly for someone writing in a second language it is quite good. The only thing I would really like to suggest is that you try posting smaller sized chunks that this. It took a while for me to get through something this big, and sizes like that have a habit of intimidating people out of even trying to read at all. 1,000 - 3,000 word posts every other day seem to work well on a forum. It is not too much that it intimidates, and not too little as to not seem worth bothering with.

[ureniashtram]

IKIKIKIKI--IKIKIKIK

2

IKIKIKIKIK---IKIKIKI


------

Many events have erupted, and none of them good or heartwarming. Cyrodiil was just recovering from the infamous Lugrub the Terrible's invasion. The Champion of Cyrodiil, Martin Septim and the rest of his personal playthings, the Daggers or something, were just entering the White Gold Tower before sheer pandemonium erupted. I was in the rooftops watching it in amusement. I even helped them out by taking down some Dremora with my bow. Even shot some well placed arrows on Dagon, if anybody could believe that. And after nine months of recovering from that, we get attacked by some damned opportunists.

Whoever called the shots could be insane. Or not. Or maybe he was just shocked that the rest of his Comrades were killed by a certain outlander and he was stripped of his Power.

Morag Tong, Werewolves and flying mounts. Mages walking in the air and fire raining. This kind of stuff and magick comes from none other than the province of... Morrowind, j'e taime. It actually made some sense to me, seeing as the curse of lycantrophy and Levitation magick doesn't exist in Cyrodiil, so to speak. Morrowind's control was stooping low after the Damned Crisis. Be it in foreign trades, ebony mining and manufacturing weapons. Even major pubs of activities were destroyed. All these business's company pulled out of said province, leaving the merchant industry desolate.

Of course, without shops to buy things with, people would leave or worse. I can only think of the former, because Cheydinhal's citizen count was raised incredibly. Before they got hammered with fires, that is. But what would Vivec want with the Morag Tong? Eliminate the likes of us so he can proceed smoothly with whatever plans he got? Maybe, after all he is a mortal now, his fair game for Assassins. But what about the Werewolves, 'Everdawn Crusaders' and whatnot?

Why would he attack Cyrodiil in her current state that she's in? Revenge and World Conquest. Revenge at the Empire who sent the Nerevarine to wreck the Tribunal's Gods. To empower the human presence, after all Cyldrin Ashtree is half Imperial/half Breton. I just got that info out of the stable girl that I met earlier. But it was not your average information trade with hushed voices. No, it contained heavy flirting and kisses. But right now, High Rock could get a share of what became of Cyrodiil.

And I'm vouching for the idea. After all, High Rock is a land of magick. Many legendary sorcerors came out of this province. And it also the place where the Direnni Tower, said to be construced by the Divine Akatosh and his ilk, stands.

Wait.

If Vivec hired the Morag Tong, which is very much likely, to find Dawnmoore and retrieve it, what would he do with it? Open realms with Dawnmoore. But he can't do that seeing as the White Gold was burned down to the freaking ground.

Hmm. They say the White Gold Tower was filled with Great Varla stones, 'keys' to open Aetherius. And the tower itself is a 'power source', providing more power to the 'keys' and opening a small rift between the realms. But it was destroyed, so it can't be used anymore. I wonder if Direnni Tower has the same 'design'?

Dawnmoore could open any realm, if it was provided by a certain power source. If Vivec wants Dawnmoore so he could open the realm of the et'Ada by using Dawnmoore as a key and Direnni Tower as a power source, what would he want from them? A place among the divine gods of Nirn? Unlikely. Or..

My stomach made frontflips when I thought of the answer. Power, the once mighty Poet Warrior wants power! He wants to wage war with them so he could obtain power! But why, so he could rule Tamriel with an iron fist? This is getting worse than I thought. But I still have some unanswered questions.

For now, I'll have a drink upstairs, hopefully not encountering the smug stable girl who's probably boasting about me being an easy target. As I ascended the stairs that lead to the bar, I felt a chill and a presence watching me. The same presence that recruited me in the Dark Brotherhood. The same presence who betrayed the Brotherhood.

I gnashed my teeth together and withdrew my dagger.

"Lachance! I know you're there, come out and face me you sick honoured user!" I swirled around to and fro, hoping to find the treacherous Imperial. I could care less about the surrounding people giving me an amused look. All I care is beating Lachance to a pulp and questioning him why he abandoned us. The very thought of that Imperial made me want to go in a rampage. As seconds turned into minutes, I heard footsteps around me, quietly making their way to my exposed body. Was making their way to me, before I backflipped and landed on a Bretonish man on his back.

He wore commoner clothes, avoiding suspicion I thought. His jet black hair was tied in a pony tail that sprouted from the back of his head. On his right hand was a silver shortsword, one that should've ended my life if I hadn't backflipped.
I snatched it off from his hand and threw it below the stairs.

He grunted, I smiled. He struggled, I laughed.

"Acrobatics isn't my good trade, human. At least you helped me improve my jump. Now, you're gonna help me with magick, particulary Illusion and Conjuration. I'm going to Demoralize you and summon my unearthly dremora friend, Aishael. Normally, he could scare away Xivilais by glaring at them, but if mixed with Demoralization, you should see our Dread Father playing with himself. And believe me, it's not a pretty sight." I clicked my tongue when he gasped. I started to punch the back of his head, without the thoughts of ever stopping. A few minutes later, few people actually had the guts to separate me from the dazed Lachance.

I just snarled, kicked and cursed, unknown to the fact that an energy is being sucked from me. It was minutes before I noticed a High Elf pointing a gleaming staff towards me. It shoned with crimson. A drain fatigue spell, huh? That's gonna take some time, as I have stamina that rivals that of eight healthy horses. He seems to realize this and motioned the mob that held me to let go.

As soon as they released me, I charged at the swaying Lachance and we both went down in a downward spiral as I tackled him. As I was on top of him, the fetcher took the brunt of the damage. Probably got his facial features re-arranged. And the Altmer, who is now screaming at me with a high pitched voice that made me want to laugh in his face and gloat about the fact that he's girlish, whacked me on the head by the butt end of his staff. I actually saw stars dancing around.

Probably a Burden spell on the weapon itself, to fortify the weight, thus increasing the over-all damage.

That was the last thought on my mind, before the colorless, black realm of unconciousness embraced me.

****----

Apocrypha.

----***

"Here are the books, accounts about the Era'sh Dyleen by Our Master, Lord Mora. He spent thousands of millenia gathering this mere bit of treasured information, so you'd be wise not to lose it. If you do, then you will be teleported back to the Time where you will see yourself killed." the Librarian handed a messenger bag full of books to the Dunmer, while maintaining a threatening tone.

"Pff. I was already killed before you know," the Dark-elf scoffed and took the bag with a nod and the hood fell back. Shining raven hair tied into a pony tail. Facial features that could rival the most beautiful of women. And the eyes, the eyes shone with Thunderous Energy.

"After all, I am an Elemental." with one final slap to the Daedra's shoulder, he disappeared with cascades of lighting erupting in the skyless Realm. Normally, that is impossible by Divine constrictions laid out by Hermaeus Mora, even the Divines fear the Gardener of Men, but Damaren seems to like bending the rules. Even if it meant death.

"I think I forgot to read that Jureni, Damaren's previous Incarnation, is the most powerful of them all, surpassing even Salidariel." he said in complete awe. For a moment, he let his infinite mind register what happened there. After a few minutes of searching for the possible theory of Rules being Broken, he shook his ghostly head and tore apart the book he currently read. The Elemental gave the Librarian the courage he sought many eons ago. He finally had the guts to stand up for himself.

"I wonder if Azura wants a Chamberlain.. No, she already have the God of Thunders and the Incarnate for that. Hmm.. What about Meridia? No, Varin-El the Lifereaver already had the seat of that position many ages ago. I guess it's time for me to call myself my true name again, Dyus. I really need a well deserved vacation, maybe return to Jyggalag. And Haskill, you won our bet. I didn't last long that I expected, honoured user." and with that, he disappeared and left the Great Library without a Librarian. Those who seek forbidden knowlege now feast on the books, freely.

------------***

Before light infiltrated my vision, I was in deep pain. As if I was ran over by a stampede of Minotaur Lords or something. And my head. I couldn't even think straight without wincing in pain. I tried callusing my head to lessen the injury, but it only made it worse. Now, I really couldn't think straight.

"You know, doing that will only make it worse, right? ... Obviously, you easy man." all of my pain vanished and was replaced with disgust at the voice who berated me. The stable girl, Rhadelle Ashtalon, sat in front of me, dressed in an opened robe that revealed mush of her front. That's when I felt, rather than saw, that I had no clothes on. I tried to say something to her, but I only made out a moan.

"Wait here, I'll go get you a cup of water." and did it she did. She went to a cabinet filled with various consumables. From simple avocados to the rare Bretonic Oranges. She grabbed some fruits and squished it on top of the cup, letting the sweet substance fall in. After that, she mixed it with milk. Fruit au lait or something. Feeling good about what she made, which is nothing at all, she walked towards me, cup in hand.

"Drink this. It'll replenish most of your stamina, while helping you regain your strength." she pressed the cup into my mouth, forcing me to drink it, while her other hand　caressed my neck. I shuddered at the touch and caused the cup to spill it's contents to my nose.

"You clumsy gigolo! I thought you had the brains to differenciate call from coal but I guess I was wrong." she tried to maintain an authorative tone, but I can see sparks of amusement in her eyes. I just grunted at her. But since I had drank some of her so-called water, I could now calluse my badly bruised head. And could speak.

".. Gigolo? That's like the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh, just because I dress like one of.. them, doesn't mean I'm one, got it?"

".. Whatever you say, genius." I rolled my eyes at her, and turned my whole body to my side. I heard clay meeting with wood and felt a pressure on my side. A hand slowly crept up and stopped on my chest. She just doesn't give, does she? Refusing a woman who's completely determined is like telling the sun to not rise. So, I have little choice but to comply with her.. wishes.

"Let's just get it over with. I really need to rest." I turned to her, and was welcomed by a smilling Breton. Her hand just caressed the side of my face, before saying something I would have never thought.

"Do you not remember me, Sel? The face, hair and eye colors, do you not remember these? Do you not remember an old flame by the name of Anastascia Broexius?" her tone suddenly became sweet, not like the seducing one. No, it was laced with girlish sadism, like calmness before the wild storm. What an unexpected suprise. The loath and disgust that I once felt was replaced with longing and forgiveness.

"Ana.. It's been a while, hasn't it?" the second I finished that sentence, she sat and slapped me hard on the place where the 'moon and grass glows'. I can't say it didn't hurt. I gasped and sucked plenty of air before I moaned. She stood up and pointed an accusing finger at me.

"After suddenly disappearing five years ago, and not even writing to me where you are, that's all you have to say?! Really, Vaeryl, I expected better from you." her voice began to croak and I knew that she was crying. "And now, perfect timing by the way, you suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and you just walked right past me like I'm an unknown stranger.. Do you know what it feels like, huh?
To know that the one thing you truly cherished with your heart.. neglected and doesn't even remember you? When I first saw you riding towards this rat-hole, I thought you came for me. But I was wrong."

I never really felt guilty until now. The sight of my former lover crying made my iron heart melt. I wish I could kneel before her and beg for forgiveness, but I couldn't. Not in the current state I'm in.

.".. I'm sorry, my little Ana. But.. I.. The.. I'm sorry."

"Where were you those lonely nights when I have cried? Where were you those nights were I wished nothing more than to be with you? Where were you?"

"Sit down, this story will take your time longer than you could memorize the entire Ayleid and Daedric Language."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*************************************-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Is it just me, or did I rush the introduction of Anastascia? Some part of me says I didn't but the other says yes. So the only thing to solve this... is... by saying:

No.

or,

Yes.

You readers get to choose!



@SubRosa: Welcome to Dawnmoore, and yes the first chapter is long. Even for me. But now, I have to remedy that, wouldn't I?

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Jun 4 2010, 05:58 PM

[haute ecole rider]

No, I think your introduction of Ana is just fine. My only thing is - is she the stable girl mentioned literally two sentences before? Or is she completely different?

Otherwise, I think you're off to a pretty interesting start with this story. I want to read more!

[ureniashtram]

Howdy, hauty! Welcome to my little story, Dawnmoore. I'm glad you dropped by!

Now, about Ana. Radelle Ashtalon and Anastascia Broexius are actually...

Can't say anything more. Might ruin the flow, y'know.

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Jun 4 2010, 05:27 PM

[mALX]

Daggers !!!!!!! ROFL!

I think something disappeared that is supposed to be here:

He wore commoner clothes, avoiding suspicion I thought. His jet black hair was tied in a pony tail that sprouted from the back of his head. On his right han

He grunted, I smiled. He struggled, I laughed.

I love your writing style! Great chapter!!!!!


Anastascia was a total surprise to me. I was not expecting that at all, especially the hit! Awesome write! I don't think you rushed it, it was well done.

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 4 2010, 05:50 PM

[ureniashtram]

mALX! (imitating a bandit's voice) Your presence here..

(voice suddenly changes into that of an earnest puppy) is always welcomed!

And the nit or nits, has been fixed! All thank to you, my friend!

..My eyes really do fail me sometimes. As my back, knees and arms. The kiss of old age has finally caught up to me, because I'm actually an 95 year old man. Lolz!!!

[mALX]

mALX! (imitating a bandit's voice) Your presence here..

(voice suddenly changes into that of an earnest puppy) is always welcomed!

And the nit or nits, has been fixed! All thank to you, my friend!

..My eyes really do fail me sometimes. As my back, knees and arms. The kiss of old age has finally caught up to me, because I'm actually an 95 year old man. Lolz!!!

I just went back and read it, I would have missed a lot! I'm glad I said something!!! Great paragraph, and it really makes that scene!

I really love how you portray his hatred of Lachance - his inner dialogue is outstanding - really great stuff in this chapter!

(95 year old? ROFL !!! I think I am 101 or something by now, lol.)

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 4 2010, 06:46 PM

[ureniashtram]

3

"- the crimelord that everybody hates, Bacchus the Vaccous and I have come for you, my worthy adversary! I just scoffed at him and with my super-awesome-girl-weakening moves, I decapitated him with my.. rod. A Dremora suddenly appeared out of nowhere, stared at the headless body of the Vaccous One and kneeled before me in awe. And that is how I eliminated the crimelord in Anvil." I finished my embezzled story by snapping my fingers and jokingly bowed to my audience, which is to say Ana. Suprisingly, she listened to my story with focused ears. Even with the Dark Brotherhood's atrocities.

"So, you joined one of the most notorius band of Assassins and killed a menace to society with your rod, eh? Well, guess what. I became a mercenary by the fake name of Rhadelle Ashtalon shortly after your departure. Don't know what motivated me, even to this day." with this she proudly said, while standing up and taking out some clothes for me wear. Listening to stark naked mer is a little bit.. unnerving, I guess. She brought me a brown shirt, wide green pants and sandals. An eyebrow went up when I laid my eyes on her choice of clothes.

"Where's my napsack?" I asked her. Without it, you could pretty much guarantee that I'm useless. Poisons, throwing daggers, favorite clothes and my spare Brotherhood armor. Hell, even my pent up savings are in there! She just smirked at me, like a cat catching his prey. I narrowed my eyes at her and she returned the favor by crossing her arms.

"Where is it, my beautiful flower?" I again asked her, this time with a sweet tone. If this current crisis doesn't kill me, this cute, little woman will.

"If I told you where it is, what would you for me in return, hmm?" By Sithis and all that is unholy! I guess I'll have to do it her way. And I thought I'll go celibate like the poor sod Daeryn Asveri and Arquen.

Wait.

The Brotherhood! I actually forgot what my purpose here is. That's unbecoming of me. Maybe the surroundings did it to me or Ana? I've made up my mind that after this one last job, I'm out of this ruined Brotherhood for good. I won't leave Anastascia again, unless I got killed of course.

"Ana, this is really important. The fate of Cyrodiil rests in those bags!" after I finished this sentence, a loud boom erupted and shook the whole building to it's foundations. I myself was blown and crashed to the wall made of brick. I saw red dots and fell, before I laid my eyes upon a jet black boot. I looked up to see a face that made me snarl and bare my teeth. The leader of the infamous Blue O mercs, Damaren Uvon. He wore armor the likes I've never seen before, and it made want to break it by using his face.

"Saeladyn, my good friend! It's been a while! I heard that you joined the wrong people. That's sad 'cause Blue O mercs could've had people with your caliber. Oh, if it isn't Rhadelle Broexius or Anastascia Ashtalon! Go get dressed and leave us in private will you?" he said in a tone that spelled out, uninterested. Ana just buttoned her robed and stood still, while keeping out an eye on the Dunmer. The said Dunmer just sighed and looked down on me, literally.

"Damaren, you filthy thief! Get out of here before they take out stretcher with your dead body!" I screamed at him, while trying to stand up by using both of my hands. He snorted, and the next move he took suprised me. He grabbed me by the shoulder by one hand, firm but not harsh, and lifted me to my feet. Looks like the smug fetcher's been exercising. Even grew some spine too. But I downed people more stronger than him in combat.

"That was a mistake on your part, Damy." I emphazised my point by punching him hard on the face. He smiled, obviously unfazed on my attack and after that, three things happened. One, the s'wit grabbed my crotch by his cold gauntlet. Two, I was electrified to my core, like I was hit by a wayward lightning ball. Three, Ana gasped while Damaren smirked at me mishievously. After a few minutes, he released my smoking 'ace' and I fell to the floor, moaning in agony. No words can express the anger and pain I felt right now.

"Come on, Sel. I didn't came here to fight a naked man. But rather, I came here to offer a deal." his tone became weary, like that of a man carrying the whole Nirn on his shoulders. Like I care about his tone or what-not. My mind can think of one thing and one thing only: listen to Damaren. In the current state I'm in, I can't do nothing, even with my skills. I loathed the idea, but I have no choice.

"I'm.. listening.." I managed to say, but then with the volume of my voice, I guess he didn't hear it. I crawled to bed, clawed my way up and sat while holding my burned 'hose'.

"Good! Now, before I get into the details, let me heal your.. injury. Anastascia, if you're going to stand there, do something useful. Give Sely some clothes will ya?" and with that, he muttered a spell before standing up. Unsuprisingly, the pain disappeared and I even felt more forgiving at Damaren. A charm spell, and I resisted it. Suprisingly, Ana dumped the clothes on top of my head.
I shook my head while I undid the buttons of the shirt. I put it on, closed the buttons and I picked up the green pants. But before that, I shielded my 'hose' with a loin cloth. Now, I re-adjusted the belt of the pants to fit my size and pulled them up. It fitted perfectly. Now that I'm done with that, I slipped on the sandals and went to a mirror. Damaren pinched the bridge of his nose. Not that I didn't care. I viewed myself before taking on some immature poses. Ana just giggled.

"I was rather impressed by the way you handled that Imperial. His face looked like scamp in a sewer beaten by a whip. What was his name..? Floozy Lackthose or something?" I actually laughed at his mistake at Lachance's name. Floozy Lackthose, that's rich. I turned to Damaren and gestured him to a seat at a chair. He obliged and pulled out a messenger bag out of his cloak. It was brown, and the outlines of something large and small can be seen. Books, no doubt.

"It's Lucien Lachance, you helpless monkey. I resent that I didn't caused much more damaged to his so-called 'godly face'. Bah!"

"Yeah, well, the guy's actually knocked unconsious for hours and the healer said it will be for the next or so days. You're exceptionally strong, for an Assassin that is."

"I once worked with 'the famous group of them all', remember? Before you stole my sword that is." I spat the last one, filled with venoms of threats. I can actually see on Ana's eyes that my face grew darker. Damaren just waved it off and crossed his legs.

"Pff. That sword's long gone, Sely. One of my friends thought that if I modified it, it could be seen as thanks to your faithful services. You weren't there the day I knocked on your door, so I sneaked up and snatched it. "

"That was father's sword, you boat. It was the only thing he left for me before leaving. If you give it back right now, I may think of you as a long missed friend. Just like the old days."

"Mister Ardel left you and the cutie pie Salyndiil? No wonder I saw him whoring in Blacklight. Y'know, Morrowind." my ears perked up the moment I heard him say the location of my father. Blacklight, eh? Maybe the personification of that city, so to speak, is out to get him. The Blacklight decapitating a smug honoured user in the city of Blacklight.

"So.. he's there, huh? If I leave to-"

"Woah, woah and woah. I understand that a parent leaving a child for pleasure would leave the said child in bitter agony and hell bent on revenge, but look on what's happening in your surroundings. Morrowind is completely sealed off, only those with allegiances with Vivec can enter. And his lackeys. Those crazy Crusaders can kill whoever they want, whenever they want. And the Telvanni s'wits, they're worse than the Sons of Von Hammer. Atleast them wolves spare prisoners."

"What about the other Houses? What of Indoril, Redoran, Hlaalu and Dres?"

"Completely oblirated, Dres was. Redoran and Indoril came with Nerevarine, although it required much persuasion to follow him in the land of their bitter enemies. Hlaalu actually joined Vivec, acting as a find-and-retrieve group."

"Hmm.. What about the almighty Champion of Cyrodiil? Where is he?"

"Didn't you hear? In the Realm of Meridia, thinking if intervening and saving our hides is a good idea."

"Ha! Now, what about your offer?"

"The last contract for the whole Blue O mercs, I guess. After this, my family of tough mercies will be disbanded. The contract's about stopping Vivec and his crazies, but the contractor said we should start by sabotaging the lower ranked leaders and their respetive groups."

"'We'? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but the last contract we done together was stopping an Invasion from the continent of Akavir! We lost many members after that, including Lump-Eel and Lugrub!"

"Don't remind me.."

"No! I'm reminding you because I'm not accepting your offer! I have too much on my hand, as it already is."

"Really? You won't accept the deal that would save of all Cyrodiil, Tamriel even?"

"..."

"Think about it, you smug buffoon."

"... Damnit all to the lowest pits of Peryite, I accept! But after this, me and little Ana should be living in Summerset Isle, in a beautiful five story mansion! And you will pay for all of it, including the expenses of my marriage ."

"That's the spirit! Always in for the reward! Gods, it's like being in 3E 441 again! Pack your things, we leave the day after tommorow." and with that he went for the door, only to have it burst in front of his face. A mob of people, all with concern written in their faces.

Cathgar World-Breaker, the Nord who gave me a bear hug, stood in front of the crowd, clad in a full set of Nordic Iron armor. It took a few minutes that it was Damy, not the 'Sons of Von Hammer' or whatnot, that banged into our door. But still, I noticed the look he gave Damaren. A look coated with distrust and paranoia.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------******

And that, is the end of chapter 3!! The thing I said about gore being prevalent in many chapters, well, it's gonna start in the next chapter. This chapter is all about dialogue and the meeting of two lost friends.

And, to say my thanks, here's a link to a music video. This song is like Saeladyn's life in the Dark Brotherhood, if you intepret it that way.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWNRUVMboq4

... Should I put a disclaimer on the song or something?

[mALX]

I decapitated him with my.. rod.

ROFL !!!!

It's Lucien Lachance, you helpless monkey

On this one I wondered if the censor got you or if you said this, either way I was in stitches laughing!

I loved this chapter! Your storyline and sense of humor are both excellent!!

[Remko]

Floozy Lackthose

ROFl next please

[Zalphon]

Very well done, Uriash

[ureniashtram]

@Remko: Hey!! Glad you liked Lulukin's 'sobriquet'!! He-he... uhh is that funny?

@Zalph: Uriash? That's a cool nickname, bro. Thanks. It's actually Ureni Ashtram, but since I signed up as a newbie at that time, I didn't knew that spaces is allowed! Silly little me.

[ureniashtram]

A VERY LONG CHAPTER AHEAD, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

***
4
***

A Kiss Before Dying
-----

I was in a very exotic grassland, filled with trees that seem to dance whenever gushes of air lunged at them. Strange animals roamed freely, without the fear of predators lurking in every bit of darkness. I glanced up at the sky, and I was awe-strucked. Cyan clouds mingling with the midnight sky, the mandarin moon applauding from behind. Legions of grass and bushes were everywhere, with the latter having fruits that clasped to them.

On the horizon, I could see flocks of birds flying over a vast ocean that seemed to strecth over the skin of Nirn. To the west, I could see spires of a golden tower so high, to the point I thought it was observing it's surroundings. To the east, a mountain sat with clouds dancing over it's head. While I gaze over it in amazement, my ears picked up a sound. Like an et'Ada singing for the almighty Akatosh.

It was beautiful.

As I walked around, hoping to see more of this strange place, I can't help to feel.. depressed. Like I have everything but I don't have anything of importance. As I glanced up to the skies, I immediately thought of her. Without my little Ana, I'm incomplete. No matter what you give to a man without the love of his life, he will never be satisfied. Like a King without his Queen. A bow without it's arrow.

The very thought of Ana without me made my surroundings melancholic. Cold breeze rolling by, with the flowers of Spring dying out. The once dormant green was consumed by the seas of black. The ground that was once soft to the flesh became unforgiving steel. The tower to the West crumbled, leaving a ruined land.
The mountain, now a volcano, exploded, and squadrons of molten rock invaded my surroundings.
The trees was set alight, and the smoke that emanated from the flames burned down the sky. The ocean seems to rumble and in an instant, it turned into the very fires of the Deadlands.

Angelic animals that once shone with blinding light transformed into horrible creatures. Too horrible for any pure and innocent to see. Even though they were crying, a twisted smile embraced their rotten lips. A part of me said I was like them, hiding my true emotions under my deceiving smile. Tears that weren't shade in the past, were beggining to overcome my heart, begging for release. Like a tide threatening to invade the beach.

The once beautiful land that could rival Azura's Moonshadow became the twin brother of Molag Bal's realm. As I walked while weeping at the sight before me, I felt like I entered the Gates of Oblivion itself. Depression, loneliness, hopelessness. Someone or something seemed to chant these words.

For minutes I walked and wept, before the groud before me shook. It caused some cracks, with hellish light coming out of it, before exploding into a million pieces. It sent sprawling to the floor, before I hit my head on the trunk of a tree. Very, very hard.

I tried to open my eyes, but it was like holding fruits with a broom. All I can see is black cloaked figure holding the... the.. bloodied head of my Ana. And the worse part is the figure was smilling. Who looked like me. It made me.. sick. I stood up, resenting it quickly as my backside screamed bloody murder, and went groggily towards the other me. After stumbling a few times, I managed to come face to face with this monster. I managed to restraint myself from vomiting. The same features such as I, only this time, a large wound went down on both of his eyes. Like tears. And that smile... it was the wretched Blacklight smile.

"By the Gods, what have you done!" I spat at him. The other Saeladyn just smirked at me, and in the process made the Black Smile even wider.

"The Gods have no power in here. This.. place is too unholy for them to touch, even Sithis marked this revolting and bone chilling. Dementia plague this land, and Sheogorath's darker side pales in comparison. After all, one mad mer's mind is the most dangerous place to exist, Blacklight. But do not fear, all of this things have been created... by you."

-------------------------

I gasped and woke up with a start, covered in sweat and shivering. I immediately scanned my surroundings, and thanked every deity I could remember. It was a dream. But it was too real for one. And the words that he, no the other me, said. Burned in my memory so deep, that I can't even think straight without those words popping right out of no where.

As I laid back on the bed, I noticed Ana hugging on my chest like a lost puppy. All those fears, uncertainty.. It vanished the moment I laid my eyes on the beautiful face of Anastascia Broexius. So emerged with her face, I failed to notice that my lips were moving without my brain ordering it to be so.

" You're the one who never lets me sleep.
To my mind, down to my soul, you touched my lips.
You're the one that I can't wait to see.
With you here by my side, I'm in ecstasy.

I am all alone without you.
My days are dark without a glimpse of you.
But now that you came, into my life, I feel complete.
The flowers bloom, my morning shines and I can see...

Your love is like the sun, that lights up my whole world,
I feel the warmth inside.
Your love is like the river, that flows down through my veins,
I feel the chill inside..

Everytime I hear our music play,
Reminds me of the things that we've been through.
In my mind, I can't believe it's true.
But in my heart, the reality is you.

I am all alone without you.
My days are dark without a glimpse of you.
But now that you came, into my life, I feel complete.
The flowers bloom, my morning shines and I can see...

Your love is like the sun, that lights up my whole world,
I feel the warmth inside.
Your love is like the river, that flows down through my veins,
I feel the chill inside.

Your love is like the sun, that lights up my whole world,
I feel the warmth inside.
Your love is like the river, that flows down through my veins,
I feel the chill inside..."

Our teenage ballad. I remember it very clearly like it was yesterday. The childish little letters that contained a poorly drawed Dunmer holding hands with a red-headed Breton. An awfully made sweetroll with flowers delivered to the door of the Broexius Manor. How I wish to go back in time and live the life of a normal middle class mercenary. But hoping for the impossible will do nothing. All we could do is prepare ourselves to the future. In my case, a lifetime worth of eternity with Ana.

But business calls.

I carefully slipped out of the sheets that covered Ana's resting body and silently leapt out of the bed. I crouched and crawled towards the chest that contained all of my belongings. After a few tense seconds, I finally reached the chest. I held the lid..

.. And recognized the machinations of a well-crafted lock. Damn. If only I have a piece of wooden hair pin and a notched dagger... wait. That's it! If my memory served me well, I think I saw both of those items in Ana's bag! But, scrounging around in a woman's bag is like a stalker taking his.. I pushed such dirty thoughts out of my mind and I soundlessly crept towards her pink, withered messenger bag.

It was now in a hand's reach. But as I held it up and opened it, a loud creak erupted on the wooden floor beneath me and I cringed. I looked up at Ana and my eyes locked with hazel orbs of a beautiful Breton. I froze as Ana sized me up.

I smiled nervously at her, but already knew that I'm in trouble. The poise, arms tucked in her hips and the eyes. In the Brotherhood, I saw this kind of thing on my Sisters when it's their time of the month. Hell, I even tasted the sharp sting of a slap when I joked on unnecessary topics.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voiced riddled with curiousity with a hint of annoyance. I've been in situations like this before many times, but something held my deceiving instincts. I can't even think my way through this.

"I.. uh.. needed a towel and.. err, I figu-figured that, y'know, your messenger has a bag.. I mean, your messenger bag has a towel and.. uh.." I stuttered, embarrased. She arched an eyebrow.
I introduce thyself as Saeladyn the Smooth. And I actually stuttered. That never happened before. It's shocking. She rose up, picked up a belt and flexed it threateningly. It was my eyebrow's turn to ascend.

"Now, now Sel. We all know that carrying a bag that isn't yours is bad. Very bad. Come, a 'lesson' would be good for you. For me, too. It'll help rub off my sleepiness for the hours to come."

I'm in trouble.

-------
-------




Agrev Cafrod never really liked Assassins. Yes, this hardened Breton despises the murdering bunch. Especially the Dark Brotherhood. But at this moment, he felt the embrace of bittersweet irony. The Morag Tong offered him a 'proposition' to hold hostage a Bosmer by the name of Ungolim, in return for a safe passafe to his birthplace High Rock. The baby faced man-mer would normally scoff or spit at the ground at the idea of working with murderers, but the ridiculous amount of gold and the aforementioned passage swayed his mind.

Plus, he could smother, not a low ranked assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, but their leader! It took two dismembered mages and many wounded millitia to finally capture the elusive Wood elf. He can even remember it. And at his idle situation, it is all he could do. After all, the way to the Land of the Man-Mer is long and treacherous. Not that he couldn't fight, but he wasn't very skilled in the arts of combat. Hopefully, the benefactor have hired some Mercenaries for safe guarding the caravan and him.



*

Twelve cloaked figures surrounded a panting Wood elf, with the latter's once elegance clothes covered in sweat, dirt and blood. Masser and Secunda abasked in their midnight moonshine, watching the scene before them from above. Torches lined up in the Grave, giving it an eerie glow. The surrounding gravestones stood rooted to the ground, with some crushed due to the recent chase. The cloaked figures' facial expression were unreadable, mostly due to the hoods that obscured their face. Some were taller than others, while some had heavy armor with claymores strapped to their back.

The Bosmer fell on one knee and locked eyes with his subduers' leader, his keen senses enabling him to see clearly in the darkness, like broad day light. The short mer spat phlegm filled with blood at the Leader's feet.

"Filthy Morag Tong.. Even I am disgusted with.. Argh, your dirty tactics.. Finish me now, or you will regret ever showing up in our territory!" although the Bosmer's voice was like that of a infantile toad due to being exhausted, it nevertheless sent whispers on Agrev, telling him to 'run while you still can, mortal'. The leader of this squad, a Dunmer Nightblade by the name of Aren Rentlis strode up before stopping ten paces from the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. He smiled.

"I never thought I'd see the da-" the smile that engrossed his lips forever remained, although his head on his shoulder did not. Strips of flesh held the decapitated head of the dunmer, while blood spurted everywhere. The head lolled back, his eyes somehow moving and looked straight at an Orc enforcer, before rolling at the back of his head for eternity. Agrev and many others sucked deep breaths before realizing that an armed Bosmeri assassin is among them.

A Nord and an Argonian charged at Ungolim, their weapons of choice raised above their heads. The Argonian lunged at the Listener on the left with his dual longswords, hoping to catch him off-guard, with the Nord's axe descending towards the Bosmer's head. But with the natural born reflexes of a Woodland nymph and the training of a hardened assassin, Ungolim evaded and jumped at the raging giant, knee leading the way.

The hit connected and Ungolim was sure he heard the familiar crack of a bone being crushed. Flying in mid-air, he spun around and his feet landed on the stunned Argonian's head. It literally split the head of the Argonian into two and gray matter, blood and bone fragments laid about, a demented garden of blood. The dazed Nord swayed and managed to shout at his flabbbergasted companions to 'get the crazy wood ({censored})'. The Wood elf just smirked and assumed a defensive position with his ebony shortsword.

Agrev immediately reached for the hilt of his steel shortsword and braced himself for the oncoming slaughter. They underestimated the Leader of one of the most skilled Assassin's guild with their numbers. His train of thoughts were interrupted as the sound of steel clashing against refined lava erupted. The Breton stayed rooted on the spot as two Imperial rushed their attacks at the agile Ungolim.
The Listener evaded a head separating chop from the tanned-skin Imperial and countered it by an elbow to ribs and a kick to the shins. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The other Imperial looked stunned and tried to hit the Listener, with the Bosmer back facing him, in the head with the pommel of his sword.

It was a mistake, and the Bosmer anticipated the attack. He grabbed the forearm of the snarling man before the strike could connect. He then leaned forward with such speed and used the Imperial's parted legs to his advantage. He kicked him in the nether regions and threw him to ground before thrusting his sword to the Imperial's throat. A gurgling sound occured from the dark-haired mercenary, before spitting out some bits of flesh and a bowl full of blood. He was dead before the sword left his mangled throat.

The tanned Imperial stood up and limply rushed at the Bosmer, sword raised. Ungolim, too, rushed at the Imperial and summoned forth a frost spell, temporarily freezing the human. Then, with one shattering downward chop, the Imperial crumbled to icy bits. To say that Agrev was stunned would be an understatement.

Ungolim then backflipped, his feet meeting the poorly maintained walls of Bravil while his hands touched the pavement. He then narrowed his eyes before he leapt by using his hands as a propeller. Bending his body backwards and maintaining his momentum, he backflipped again and again until he stood on the battlements with a smug look on his face. He had done what thousands of Acrobats would envy. The Listener raised his arms in the air and muttered the most powerful Heal spell he knew. Spiralling webs of energy danced around his forearm before touching his opened palm. He felt renewed, with his previous wounds vanishing.

"You useless fools, ready your arrows and riddle him with it!" the Nord, with a bruise forming on his face, quaked with anger and threw his axe at the leaning Bosmer. It missed, obviously. It clanged, and this sound alerted the hazed Guards. They came running and just looked at them with their hazy eyes. Then, they left, murmuring some incoherent words. Agrev ignored them, just like what his remaining companions did.

'Useless bastards. Didn't they heard the commotion before?', Agrev thought to himself, while at the same time he and two militia approached the Bosmer. A Khajiit drew his bow and quickly nocked an arrow. He aimed at the Woodland Mer and let forth the dwarven projectile. The well crafted arrow suddenly stopped in mid-air and a purplish hue covered it's whole body. It then swirled around and went for the feline, faster than anything Agrev have seen before.
The man beast also had the face of pure shock before turning into one of pain. The arrow went through his throat, before making an exit forward. It then found itself embedded on the Khajiit's head and the impact was so powerful, it pinned him on the wall several feet away. It all happened in a blink of an eye. Rivulets of blood dropped, before a flood of red substance, including bits of flesh and organs fell.

Many gasped, while others vomitted.

"A telekinetic spell.." Agrev exclaimed in fear and awe, mostly to himself. The remaining militia couldn't agree more, while others, who discovered that life is more valuable than money, ran in fear. Others, who were completely blackmailed or moneygrubbers stayed. Including Agrev Cafrod. He glanced up, and almost felt his jaw drop.

Like an eagle, like a flying phantom in the night, the Bosmer frontflipped and landed gracefully on his feet and glared directly at Agrev. His knees failed him, his stomach lurched and his bladder too if he didn't return the favor. The reply he got was bone chilling grin. A demented one, more like.

"Sithis will welcome your spirits in the Void." he sneered, and locked eyes with everyone of them. And off he sprinted, before jumping on to a wall and clatched his deft hands to a pole. He then vaulted forward and landed on top of a tree.

"Coward! Come and face us directl-" the Nord never finished that sentence, and he never will. A sound, like a breeze rolling in, erupted and the large Northener suddenly levitated. His body twisted in many different directions and the sound of bones cracking echoed in the city of Bravil. The body, or a perverted version of it, flew towards the far away statue of the Lucky Lady before the sound of mangled flesh colliding with metal. And Agrev heard Ungolim laugh like a demented psychopath.

"That, my friends, is a kiss before dying." The Bosme-

***


Agrev's reminiscing was abruptly cut off by a female Dunmer entering the caravan. The Mer's appearance was breath taking. It was like staring at the most beautiful star or moon he ever seen. She wore an opened purple vest over a green shirt, complimented by a pair of light brown trousers. Two boots designed with leaves and flowers dotted on her feet, while on her forearms were two beautifully carved silver vambraces, making her appearance more like a Goddess in casual clothing. The Breton shot at the Dark Elf with a smitten glance, before asking her with the words:

"What are you doing here?" to which the Dunmer replied with a smirk:

"The Listener sends his regards, you poor idiot. Salyndiil Vaeryl, by the way." she brandished an ebony dagger and stabbed it in the Breton's windpipe. It was ticklish and painfull. Like a kiss from the most lethal flower ever existed. It was painfully caressing. As his life's blood flowed freely on Salyndiil's hand, he frowned.

Agrev Casfrod never really liked Assassins. They could be deceiving in both appearances and in mind. That was his last thought before his spirit went for Oblivion.


***

"Let me get this straight, Damy. The hilt, pommel and handle of the sword is decorated with demons rising to catch an orb, with snakes spitting fire at them, yes? Ok. Then, the blade of it, is designed with thorns, with the tip of the blade facing in two different directions, right?" I examined the newly crafted shortsword, ignoring the glances Damaren placed on my 'wounded' shoulder. And how could I blame him? I never really understand the minds of kinky women.
And that whip that lashes out.. Casting out such dirty thoughts out of my mind, I chopped, slashed and lunged at the air, testing my new weapon. It was light and the hilt provides good control, but the blade looks like it could split in two directions any second. It annoyed me, rather than concerned me. But hey, I held worse in my time.

"Yes, pretty beautiful, huh?" he proudly said, while taking a sip from his mug. People around our table shot the sword a worried glance before going back for their own devices.

"It is, but the blade.. It makes me uneasy, the people around are uneasy. Anyway, what's this virgin blade called?" he raised an eyebrow at the 'uneasy' part, but if he could ignore it, he ignored it well.

"That yours, Sel- I mean Daerun. You could name it whatever you want." I stopped my whetting and glared at him for his obvious mistake. I took the identity of Daerun Ansabshunanni, and I can't afford suspicion. I still have work to do before I go with Damaren. The glare of which I sent him, he returned with a flash of white smile. Smugwipe. Nonetheless, I let it pass and asked him,

"How about 'Messenger of Death', 'Ragegiver', 'Dagon's Toothpick' and 'Despair Pleaser'? Too cliche, for my taste, that ones. Hmm.."

"What about Ayleid names? Surely, you know such things. Studying in the University of Swords do have their benefits, right?"

"All I got to learn in Arlette's school is how to gut an enemy in many ways and a sparse bit Ayleid language. But none of that, now, buddy of mine. How about 'Morrielle'? It means 'Ill Fated Beauty', what do you think?"

"Sure, that's a good name. Now, let's talk about it's inner abilities'."

"Inner abilities? You mean enchantments?"

"Yes. Several have been placed in that sword. One of which, I am very confident that it will be useful. If that sword connects with flesh, the wielder would be delighted to know that their enemies would be more subtle to poison, feel the chilly sting of Winter and feel the hopelessness that is in front of them. Second, it will grant wielder the abillity to literally absorb the essence of whoever they deem fit to, y'know, leech the life right out of. Now, this part is where it get's really good. Shed your own blood twice a day and paste it on the blade, and the wielder will be transformed into a... beautiful creature, just like it's ill fated namesake."

"Creature?"

"A demon of sorts, to be exact." Assberries. Double assberries. I threw the sword at the ground in disgust, and nearly clubbed Damaren to death, if not for interference of the surrounding mob around us.

"What?" he asked me, with a tone that spelled out 'Accusation'.

"A frick'n demon? Are you trying to degrade my whole life?! I.. godsdammed it, Damaren! You turned my family sword into a wretched, cursed vile weapon that would make Molag Bal fascinated with it!" I screamed. The men that held me from Damaren seemed to hear nothing. They just restrained me and gave me an amused look, with some of their lips twitching. Some even gave me a mortified look. I looked around and I noticed some were talking to each other. And I couldn't hear them. It was my turn to give Damaren a questioning look.

"A spell. They couldn't hear what your saying, all they can hear from you is 'cling cling clang clang I love hammering my own boat with a battle axe dong dong dog bit off my rod ting wing' or whatnot. I also muttered a silence spell on you, so you can't hear them. Only me. So calm your hot headed brain and sit down." I did calm my mind and the mob that held me took this as their cue to go back at what they were doing. I nodded at them to which they replied with eyes that shone with amusement and lips twitching.

-----
-----

I really can't believe what transpired back there in the Inn. I just sat down in front of Damaren in the fourth story bar before Cathgar and his two lackeys dragged us out to the exit and threw us in the night. At least I grabbed my new sword before that happened. The reason why he did that was 'causing problems rather than help us solve it.' A few minutes later Ana joined us with our baggages..

With a bruise on her left eye! I tried to ask her what happened and who did this, but she just shooked her head and told me not to do anything stupid. I gritted my teeth and ran my hand in my hair. As I did so, the smell of ale on her face. An ale consumed by a certain Nord.

I felt rage consume my mind and without thought, grabbed the shortsword on my hip and ripped it from it's ebony scabbard. In my anger I heed not the words of warning from Damaren, and sliced a bit of flesh with an 'X' from my hand. I clenched my palm into a fist and blood poured down like a waterfall. I didn't even felt the pain. Only rage and the strong desire for blood.

A strong gust of wind passed me and the others by and I heard thousands of voices in my head. All saying the same phrase,

"The Blacklight has been awakened and his black smile will warm our forgotten hearts! The World and all of it's inhabbitants will be on their knees! Smile and laugh at the weakened Light, for Darkness grows and humors me!"

And at the same time, I felt my whole body torn limb by limb. The pain, this kind of pain.. I've never felt anything like it. As if my spirit, my soul and conciousness are being sucked away and replaced by something... terrible. Chaotic even.

It finally dawned on me while I.. faded away to unconsiousness.

The.. thing that followed me on the way here.. It was this.. Before blackness embraced my vision, I heard a dark and baritone voice, like a notched axe scratching at a stone, say the words that almost shook the very earth.

"From my eternal slumber, I open my eyes. From this frail body, the Demon of Lies and Mistrust will reave the very World itself! The Princes will not stand a chance, and the Eight Traitors wouldn't stand at all! Come forth, where ever you are, Laeg'Reval! Together, let us show this Realm what CHAOS really means!"

----
----

The former God, Vivec, opened his eyes from his meditation. With one swift motion from his hand, the walls that surrounded his Room and Palace disappeared from the naked eye, and the Anticipation of Mephala was able to see from thousands of miles. Narrowing his eyes further, he saw the crummy and rotten walls of Bravil, with a black clouds intermingled with light descending from the skies.

In the middle of this pillar of unearthly conflagration, levivated a form of a monster unlike anything Vivec has seen before. The bent legs of a goat, with fur covering it's legs. The waist seemed to be human, but the tail that lashed occassionaly betrayed this feature. It's torso seemed to glow, and the eyes of Vivec noticed the scale on his sides. The fore arms seemed to be crooked, with talons extending from the overly large hand. The elbows were sharp and long, reaching over the creature's back. That's when the poet-warrior noticed a perverted version of wings flapping out.

He glanced at the face and raised an eyebrow. The face of is like that of a twisted mix of a daedroth and a mer, with the outlines of the face looking like a human. The eyes spoke with crimson blood, with the lips forming a demented smile.

For the first time in millennias, Vivec felt the cold kiss of fear. The demon made it worse by glaring straight at Vehk and mouthed the words:

"I am coming for you, Vehk. We still have unsettled scores to finish."

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EDIT: So, after crushing my WB, I finally had the time and idea to finish this chapter. Long, no?

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Jun 22 2010, 06:37 PM

[Acadian]

I just read all four chapters. Quite a read. As SubRosa suggested early on, I think you would be well-served to break future chapters into more digestible pieces.

The first three chapters were fun (but dark) to read and laced with wonderful one-liners. Citing only one:

Martin Septim and the rest of his personal playthings, the Daggers {the Daggers. . . } or something . . .

Ana's introduction was a touch sudden, but I think you cleverly and creatively filled in enough background that it worked well. Regardless, I was pleased to see you introduce a love interest for Saeladyn.

The fourth chapter gave me a touch of trouble, probably due in part to its length - as you warned it might. The forum just does not seem to lend itself very well to slipping in your bookmark and coming back after a break. I'm still not quite sure I understood everything in this chapter that you wanted me to. It's difficult to tell if that is simply a reading deficiency on my part. I write simple stories, and I fear that I tend to read the same way.

I do however, look forward to you continuing this.