Agent, Ebonheart's finest Options

[jack cloudy]

Sorry, but I got distracted from writing. Anyway, after writing the last update, I got my hands itching for another take on Forgeheart. I wasn't entirely satisfied with it.

Ok, the new Forgeheart still isn't perfect, (blade and crossguard specifically) but it looks much better now in my opinion. The runes are Daedric because I was too lazy to actually search for Dwemeric. Ah well, another plothole for Ro-El to break his head over. If you can't read the admittedly fuzzy writing, it says two things.

I AM FORGEHEART (near the hilt.)
TURN TO ICE AND SHATTER (From the tip to the I AM FORGEHEART bit. The order of the words is backwards though. Oops.)

Big overall render. No background because I felt lazy.


And a close-up of the hilt. I like the newer version of the crossguard which flows over the blade a bit more. Also notice the new addition of a shiny metal ring to hold the gem at the pommel.


And just for comparison, here's the old render again. Yeah, I switched back to the orange blade.

[The Metal Mallet]

Oh how I love looking at cool swords! Neat effects. I can tell you put some good work into this. Thanks for sharing!

[Lord Revan]

You're better than I am Jack, I hardly have time for posting updates to my stories..... I don't even know how to make models and post screenshots.

[jack cloudy]

The screenshotting is simple. Just use photobucket and you're set.

The modelling is a bit harder and I'm by all means still an amateur. Milanius makes some terrific weapons.

I personally use Wings3D. It's easy, it's not too hard on the computer and best of all.....it's free. I started with Blender which is also free yet a heck of a lot more powerful. Only, I couldn't wrapped my mind around it even after turning into rubber. So Wings3D is my thing, even though it lacks some features like animating and particle effects. It goes from right-click, left-click, right-click, left-click and hey......I've got a model.


Anyway, back to the update.




It did something to me. The way Nebrighk had been doomed to wandering this forsaken place for eternity, all because of Kagrenac and his plans. The heart of Lorkhan, or whatever it was that granted godlike powers to those who used it, was one evil thing. Last time it had taken the life of my people. Who would pay the price now? We all would, if no one would stop Dagoth Ur. I sat down against the wall with a heavy heart. Forgeheart lay at my feet, in a thick layer of frozen dust.

Just what was the point of it all? Why was I doing this? To prove something? I was Dwemer but what good did that fact do me? Dust, cracked steel and stories, that’s what we’ve become. Stories to keep the children in line.
,,Eat your vegetables, or the evil Dwemer will put you in his bag and have you work in his mine.” Dust, cracked steel and stories. Any act on my part would be meaningless to change our reputation. Not that it mattered. I was the last Dwemer alive and even then, I had the body of a Nord. So by all means, the last Dwemer was dead.

And what about Dagoth Ur? Even if he’d gotten his power through treachery, he was still a god. How do you kill a god? You don’t, you just hide in a corner and hope he ignores you. There was no way Dagoth Ur could be killed. Even his minion was pretty much invincible.
,,Wipe that bug out if you run into him.” That’s what Nebrighk had said. I promised him I would right the wrongs we’d suffered and what did I do instantly after putting him to rest? I crawl up against a wall and drown myself in self-pity!

I stood up brusquely and snatched Forgeheart from the cold floor. My blood burned with the fury of a berserker. I’d made a promise, and I’d be damned if I was going to break it five seconds after swearing an oath! I’d promised Nebrighk, I’d promised the Duke, Nerevar, Vivec, Almalexia, Sotha Sil, my people and……I promised Voryn Dagoth. I would free anyone who suffered under Lorkhan’s heart. That was my purpose, that was why I came all the way here looking for a sword. I would stop Voryn Dagoth, and free him from the curse he’d unwillingly put on himself. I no longer hated him, I pitied him. He’d tried to destroy the heart but in the end, he just became its slave. I would free him from his shackles, no matter how hard it might be.

But to do that, I had to be prepared. I couldn’t just walk in and do whatever I would do. The Dwemer place I was in was a research facility. It was heavy on paper yet light on weapons. The paper had been lost long ago, but the few weapons it had were still there in the vault where the Drill Centurion had been parked. I went there first. Not for a weapon, for every weapon it contained couldn’t even compete with Forgeheart’s shadow. All I needed was a small, flat box about the size of a small book.

People think that everything we Dwemer made was made out of metal. They’re wrong. Sure, we used a lot of metal, perhaps more than was healthy but we also used our fair share of wood, fabrics and ropes. Only most of these materials have been devoured by rats and time. The box I was holding was made out of metal, with a slit on one side and several attachment points for leather straps at the corners. I had a few spare sheets of leather just in case I lost my belt Like a short while ago. I could cut up a sheet right now and make the box whole again.

I set to work and within a few minutes, I could tie the little box to my back like a backpack. Once it was in place, it was time to practice. I felt around with a hand till I found the concealed button. A press, a swoosh, a light tugging at my back and a shift in balance. I felt behind me and noticed the shape of a full-sized scabbard. It was a bit of a paradox. Even at our peak, all of our living warriors could be counted on both hands yet still we went so far as inventing collapsible scabbards.

A collapsible scabbard is quite an ingenious design. It is commonly known that as a sword grows in length, the potential damage it can do increases. At the same time though, a larger scabbard is needed to hold the blade and large scabbards tend to get in the way of the limbs. As a result, many people are forced to either keep their scabbard under control with one hand or move carefully and slower than they should. On the other end of the spectrum, there are those who simply use no scabbard at all or throw the scabbard away at the onset of battle, therefore keeping maximum mobility and both hands. But storing a sword without a scabbard can be awkward.

Bring in a collapsible scabbard of Dwemer design. As the name suggests, it is capable of folding up into a small volume, perfect for during battle. At the same time, it can unfold and store the sword when out of battle. And it doesn’t end here. Unfolding is done by simply pressing a small button which is located there where it is easy to reach yet won’t be triggered by accident. The folding is fully automatic and triggered by the sword being drawn. Not just that, but a powerful spring literally launches the sword into the waiting hands of its wielder at the same time. The result is maximum comfort, standard storage capacity and one of the quickest draws in Tamriel.

But of course, nothing is perfect. The mechanism was a bit dusty and had to be cleaned before I got the maximum speed out of it. After that, it was back to drawing practice. A sword that draws itself is something else than a sword that has to be forced to leave the scabbard. The first time, I missed completely and had to pull Forgeheart out of the ceiling. The second time, I grabbed to soon and my hands came into painful contact with the pommel. The third time, my thumb got in the way of the hilt. The fourth time, I nailed the timing. Once there, it was a simple matter of practicing till drawing the sword had become as natural as breathing, only a lot more deadly for whoever had the misfortune of standing in the way. After drawing, it was an easy trick to use the push of the spring to power a downward blow, thereby chaining draw and strike together in one really quick motion.

I practiced a bit more just to make sure I’d mastered the trick behind it. Now, I had to wipe the smirk off that Ashvampire’s face. Ok, so he might be immortal, but who said I was going to kill him?

[blockhead]

Ok, so he might be immortal, but who said I was going to kill him?

a cliffhanger, of sorts. That's cruel.

[The Metal Mallet]

Wow, that collapsable scabbard IS a handy invention. I want one!

[jack cloudy]

Unlike some of my other inventions, this one might actually work. The only limiting factor is the size of the springs and gears inside. Too small, and Forgeheart can't be launched properly. Too big, and the whole thing loses its primary purpose as a collapsible scabbard.

Anyway, short one.





The Ashvampire hadn’t lost its smug expression when I rose up out of the pit from on top of the Wing.
,,Well, I must say you’ve managed to impress me. Right now, I thought you were died, turned to ash. Get it? Turned to ash!” He also had a lousy sense of humour. That was not a funny joke. He stopped laughing in the end and got serious.
,,So, did you find the key?” He asked, leaving me no doubt that if I wanted to live, I would give it to him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.
,,Sure, I found it. Why?” I asked and slowly moved closer.

I already knew why the Sixth House desired the keys. Something struck me as odd, though. Voryn Dagoth had been there when Pelinal was activated for the first time. He knew what the keys were. Three swords, all forged by Kagrenac. Trueflame, Hopesfire and Forgeheart. I couldn’t believe he’d actually neglected to tell his servant what exactly he had to look for. Forgeheart’s pommel was not exactly something you’d ignore. Frankly, a polished, glowing gem of Stalhrim that was partially hidden in the mist of its own power would be the first thing it should notice. I looked closer and saw that he had noticed my sword and did not know what to make from it. I couldn’t believe it, but the Ashvampire had no idea what the keys actually were!

,,Good! Give it to me! I’ll let you keep that crummy bit of rust you’ve picked up. I bet you’ve grown attached to it. Isn’t that how you Nords are, all in love with your sword?” Yup, no idea at all. I took one last step closer. I could draw right now but if my plan was to succeed, I had to distract him somehow. But how do you distract an ancient and possibly semi-immortal being?
,,You mean the Dark Elf who’s soiling the floor over there? Nothing special. He was going through this dreadfully boring speech about how he was going to kill me for the greater glory of his lord and blablabla, more of that Guardung. I slipped a sword into his heart while he was working his tongue. I’m a busy guy, I don’t have time for speeches.” The Nerevarine’s words suddenly popped up in my head for no good reason. I had no time to ponder his awfully annoying manners, or his cocky attitude. Cocky attitude and bad manners, that was it!

I brought out the biggest and most smug grin in my life.
,,Sure we do, nothing like a good sword to warm your bed. If it wasn’t necessary for the survival of our people, everyone would be marrying swords instead of women. Now why don’t you hobble over to good old Voryn and give him a message? Tell him that I believe he’s the most sorriest bit of wet meat I’ve ever met. To actually hang out with losers like you, so disappointing. From a friend of Nerevar, I’d expected better.” I quipped. The Ashvampire flew into a rage, both due to the insults I’d aimed at his master and the insult I’d aimed at him.
,,Pathetic left-over of the Dwemer! I’ll take your key, and your life!” He shouted and lunged at me.

I brought an arm up behind me. With a swoosh, Forgeheart flew up into my waiting hand while the scabbard began to fold. I used the momentum of the sword to launch myself forward. Being already in the air, the creature could not avoid my attack. The ancient blade bit deep into his chest, searching for the heart that was no longer there.
,,Fool! I already told you, I’m immortal! Is it that hard to get through your thick skull?!” He shrieked when we both landed. Forgeheart was still embedded into its chest. I could see how the ashstorm around us grew a tentacle that reached for the Ashvampire.
,,You can have the key, pointy bit first!” I shouted back at it and released Forgeheart’s true power, which I’d been holding back up to this point.

His body turned white as it began to freeze at a rapid pace. The tentacle made contact with his neck, just when the freezing reached it as well. Forgeheart’s influence jumped over onto the tentacle, spreading through it. I waited, not daring to either pull out the sword or try to push it even further. The ice spread all around me, throughout the ashstorm. The sound of ice shattering and boulders falling rumbled in my ears. The frozen ashstorm could no longer support its own weight. Still, I kept my blade in place. Only an hour later did I remove it and return the sword to its scabbard. I was standing inside a circular wall, with one small arc leaping over to a large statue.
,,I may not be able to kill you, but I can make sure you won’t stand in my way again. Enjoy your new home.” I chuckled and walked away. I mounted the Wing and abandoned the site.



Note: I just realized how powerful I made Forgeheart sound. Freezing an Ashvampire and a whole ashstorm? Now that's what I call uber.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Apr 19 2007, 09:32 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

Wow, uber indeed. I'm liking that sword more and more and it's neat that you made Pelinal's keys the swords. Rather ingenius if I do say so. Now I'm very curious as to how he'll get the other two...

[Lord Revan]

Tribunal anyone? Man, Tribunal fan-fics are getting as common as rain. In a good way, we all want to see everyone's different take on that story.

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmmmm.... Maybe I should write a Tribunal fan-fic once I finally finish Bloodlust

Just kidding - I think I all ready got my next idea planned.

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, I'll write a Tribunal fanfic, you can count on that.



I dismounted as soon as I cleared the lake. I needed time, time to think. My whole world had been plunged into a hostile chaos. Werewolves here, some mad god back home. Home? Yes, Ebonheart was my home. While my life with the Skaal hadn’t been that bad, I’d never felt like I fit in. To me, Ebonheart was the home I never had.

Two eyes glinted in the growing darkness. Night was about to arrive and with it, the Werewolves. At first the Skaal had been in denial, so had I. Now though, we could no longer ignore the signs, not with half the village and all the capable warriors dead. The Bloodmoon prophecy was about to be fulfilled.

Behold, the Dragon’s breath shall fail in the west, the darkness shall storm the lands in to the south. The moons shall grow red with blood and all men, women, all capable of holding a sword, axe or hammer, shall perish under tooth and fang.

Then, the Hunter shall come and lay claim to this world. Yet, he shall seek the challenge, give us a chance, however small. Four champions shall he seek. The Dragon’s servant, the beast of ice, the Wolf’s champion and the Steel God’s soul. These four will he bring to his castle, far up to the north. There, the greatest hunt of all shall be held with our world as price. Against the invincible enemy shall they fight and fall, in an arena lit by the moons.

Those words were only part of the prophecy yet to me, they were the most important. The Steel God’s soul. If that wasn’t a reference to me, then who else could be meant?
These four will he bring to his castle, far up to the north. I would go to that place, either out of free will or by force.
Against the invincible enemy shall they fight and fall, in an arena lit by the moons. The Bloodmoon prophecy wasn’t very optimistic. The chance that I would die there was great, though a prophecy was never set in stone. I might survive, but it would be one heck of a gamble.

This prophecy was about to be fulfilled, but I had no time for this. Before I was called, I had to free Voryn Dagoth back home. I had to find the last two keys and Pelinal. The last two keys were Trueflame and Hopesfire. I didn’t knew what had happened at Red Mountain after my death, but I could still hazard a guess towards the last two blades’ locations.

Nerevar was dead, so he had probably been buried in a way fitting for a warleader of the Chimer. He would have been brought to a fantastic mausoleum, and buried in full armour. His sword, Trueflame had probably been buried with him. While the idea of raiding a tomb did not appeal to me, I had to admit it was my best chance at finding the sword of fire. Even then, there were complications. The gossip had been quite strict regarding Trueflame. When Nerevar died, Trueflame turned to dust. I found that hard to believe. After all, Forgeheart had survived my death. No, the likely explanation was that Trueflame had been lost somehow, or never recovered. Maybe it was still inside Pelinal? If so, then why hadn’t the Great Centurion revealed itself yet?

Hopesfire was Almalexia’s blade. In this case, I was practically certain of its location. It was where it had always been, at her side. To find her I only had to walk into her temple, somewhere in Mournhold. But the Almalexia I knew was a mortal, the Almalexia who lived was not. She was now a god, and another victim of Lorkhan’s heart. Even if I managed to gain entry without being slaughtered by her guards, even if I managed to reach her, even if I managed to convince her that I was indeed Dumac, she would not give up her sword. She could not afford to revive Pelinal and the power it represented. We were enemies now, and we’d never been friends. Call it childish, but I hated her for the rift she made between Nerevar and I. While those feelings had diminished with my new life, they had not yet entirely faded away.

So I knew where to look for the blades, but I did not know where to start looking for Pelinal itself. And then there was the Bloodmoon. I had to find Pelinal and defeat the Sixth House soon, before I was taken by the Hunter. What should I do?

I returned to the village in silence. Any attempt from the Skaal to converse with me were brushed away by this silence. There were quite a few remarks regarding my new armour and sword which I ignored as well. I entered the rebuilt hut of the shaman. Khorne looked up from a game he was playing with a collection of knucklebones. One side of the knucklebones was marked with a small cross.
,,Aye, Chieftain. Care to bet?” He said to me. I shook my head and sat down.
,,No, I don’t gamble.”

Khorne rolled his knucklebones out on the carpet. The point of the game was to get five crosses with three throws. Each cross was worth one point. He rolled one. Shaking his head, he picked up the four without the cross and rolled them again, this time achieving three crosses in total. He should now try to roll the last two, thereby keeping the crosses he already had.
,,Don’t like to bet the long odds, eh? I can see that you’re worried about something.” He spoke, looking at his knucklebones.
,,Yeah, the Bloodmoon.” I replied.

He looked up.
,,The Bloodmoon? You’re no fool, Roland. Everyone knows the prophecy yet no one dares to admit it. I believe I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to hear this, but you’re right. When you were born, I called out a vision of your future. I saw you as you were now, facing the Werewolves in a castle of ice. You will be called by the Hunter. All I can say is, you should prepare for it.” He advised me with a slight frown. I looked at him and tried to decide whether or not I should tell him why I was worried. I decided to tell him.
,,There is a battle I have to fight, and it’s not here. I need to find my battlefield before the Hunter comes for me, or I’ll never be able to win it. But I don’t know where to look and even if I did, the chance that I find my battlefield before the Hunter comes is laughable. If I go, I’ll never make it and if I don’t go, I’ll never make it either.” I revealed and threw my hands up into the air.

,,Long odds, eh?” Khorne nodded. With one deft swipe, he picked up all five knucklebones and threw them back down. Five crosses.
,,Sometimes, you have to bet on the long odds. Go, Chieftain. Find your battle. You have taught us the lesson we had to learn. I’ll continue your work here.” He got up and looked out of the door.
,,Leave at midnight, I’ll distract the guards.”

I left at midnight as he’d said, slipping through a crack in the unfinished wall.
,,Sometimes, you have to bet on the long odds.” I made up my mind and took the gamble. I gambled that I would find Pelinal in time and that Forgeheart was enough to bring it out of its slumber. Theoretically, only one key was needed. There were three aspects to Pelinal, the offensive, the defensive and the mobile aspect. Forgeheart was the key to its mobile aspect, focussing on Pelinal’s movements. I could fight with one key, but it would be one big gamble. Only if all three keys were used, would Pelinal show off its true power which wasn’t just the sum of its three aspects, but a multiplication of the sum. I would focus on finding Pelinal and use Forgeheart to awaken the Steel God.

[blockhead]

OMG, you've worked Tribunal in as well now! This is gonna get complicated.

[minque]

What blockie just said....It´s sure gonna be complicated! And yes there are quite some Tribunal.fics going on....I dare say I´m hesitating just playing the darn thing...to me it seems scary...

Good read as always Jackie!

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmmmm, intriguing and logical thoughts made by Roland. I'll be curious to see how effective Pelinal is without offense or defense, because wouldn't at least offense be needed to actually damage something? But maybe offense and defense in this case are additional abilities/extensions to Pelinal and that with motion, Pelinal can still hit something.

Keep it going, good sir!

[jack cloudy]

I'm nearing the end! Goody, I might actually manage to keep this one in a single thread!

As for Pelinal, I was indeed thinking about extensions. As long as Pelinal can move, it can fight, especially with Ro-El's knowledge of unarmed combat brought into play. If anything, it can defeat most foes simply by stepping on them.




This time, I did not take my time. I brought out the Wing as soon as I was out of sight and then raced it all the way back to the Cloudcleaver. I arrived somewhere in the early morning, with an aching back. Long periods of flying can be uncomfortable. With the cold and the occasional gust of wind, I definitely wasn’t going to feel any better.

As such, I was quite happy when I finally caught sight of the airship. It was still in the same place where I’d left it, though what looked like market had grown around it. Odd. Zarador had better not been selling off my Centurions. Well, after I stole his own Centurion from him, he deserved to steal some of mine. Besides, I always had more where the first batch came from. I landed on deck and told the Wing to take up position at the starboard side. I then walked up to the door leading to the huts and banged on it with a fist.

,,What? Who is it?” A grumpy old Altmer said as he opened the door.
,,Ro-El! It was about time you showed yourself again! Do you have any idea how long you’ve been away?” He spoke loudly once he’d recognized me.
,,There were complications.” I replied with a shrug.

I should have recognized that gleam in his eyes. I should have warned him. Unfortunately, I didn’t.
,,Complications? It looks more like you’ve been wasting your time by raiding tombs! Say, can I take a look at that sword? It looks somewhat familiar.” He said and reached over my head for the hilt.
,,Aieh!” He shrieked and witdrew the hand half a second later. The once golden skin had taken on a pale marble hue. I was as much surprised as he was. Apparently, only I could hold Forgeheart without having my limbs frozen. Whether it was due to me being Dumac or my connection with Pelinal, I didn’t know. It could be both.

,,Careful. Its hilt is as dangerous as the blade.” I warned and pulled a rag from the railing and wrapped it around the hand. The rag was half-frozen as well, but it would do once the sorcerer had warmed it up a bit with a fireball.
,,So I noticed. Which brings me back to what I was saying. I’ve seen a sword like that before, once before. In Mournhold when I came there to visit. I saw it on…”
,,Nevermind that. We’ve got things to do. Like getting back to Morrowind yesterday.” I cut him off. It came as a bit of a surprise that he had seen Hopesfire, but it wasn’t important now.

Zarador shook his head.
,,Always on the move. Youngsters these days don’t know how to relax.” He muttered, cast a spell of Telekinesis and lifted a chest over the railing. A small fountain of snow showed where it landed. I went over to the steering wheel and brought us up in the air. Only when we were heading back to Morrowind did I bother to ask.
,,So, what was in the chest?” Zarador took the chance to launch into a lengthy explanation regarding the alchemical properties of local plants and animals. In short, he’d made some money by acting as the fort’s alchemist and now he didn’t want to leave without giving them his store of potions. And his homebrew whiskey.

,,Which reminds me. Zarador, did you by any chance find out just why that fort is a ruin? The village right next to it looks brand new.” I asked. We had retreated below deck where there was a good fire. Actually it was a small forge but a fire is a fire and if your beard is getting frozen off outside, you’re not going to be picky regarding the source of the fire.
,,It is new, and so is the fort. But just two days before we arrived, the place was raided by quote: ‘wolves that walked like men’. They left the whole place in ruin.” Werewolves, dang.
,,They lost a few people during the attack, including their healer. The East Empire company has been reluctant to send replacements to this frozen waste. As long as the money and Ebony keeps rolling in, they see no reason to bother with helping out. Now what have you been up to?”

I told Zarador everything that had happened. Including my trip around the island and my encounter with Aevar. Everything, except my meeting with Nebrighk. I believed that now he’d finally found his death, I should not end his peace by bringing up his name or anything like that. I did tell him about Forgeheart, how it was connected to Pelinal, and how I was connected to the steel god as well. I told him a few things about the Bloodmoon prophecy and about the werewolves, but not how I was chosen by the Hunter. By the time I’d finished talking, the sun had sank into the sea and the moons had taken over its throne in the sky.

We bade each other good night and went to our respective cabins. Me, being the arrogant reincarnation of the Dwemer king, had the big and luxurious captain’s cabin. It wasn’t as big as my bedroom at Dren plantation, but it sure came close. There was room enough for combat practice, enough room to try out all the flips and spins that were the trademark of the Floating Butterfly style. Enough room for mayor trouble.


A low growling sound woke me up from my exhausted slumber. Oddly enough, my body felt rejuvenated even though my soul lacked the nourishment only a full night’s sleep could provide. This was not on my mind though. On my mind were the dozen or so werewolves who’d crammed themselves inside the cabin with me. They all gazed upon me, looking hungry yet…..restrained. Restrained or not, I was still scared out of my wits. It was too soon. Too soon.
,,Fear not, my son. I am with you.” I looked at the ghostlike ring around my finger. Aevar was right. He was with me and I had nothing to fear.
,,Those who know no fear are reckless fools. Those who know fear and overcome it are invincible.”

I had calmed down. As calm as if I was just going for a stroll through Ebonheart’s courtyard, I picked up my armour from under the bed and put it on. I then took Forgeheart and its sheath from the rack. After that, I looked back at the werewolves.
,,I’m ready.”

There was a dizzying sense of movement, like tumbling into the depths of a bottomless well. When the blurriness that clouded my sight vanished, I found myself inside a large chamber, surrounded by walls of ice. I shivered and noticed that somehow, I’d become soaked in water.
,,Welcome, prey.” The Hunter said to me. He looked like a Nord, only taller and with a Deer’s skull covering his face. In his hands he held a spear that resonated with power. This was it, the Bloodmoon, the greatest hunt ever. The Riestaag among Riestaags.

,,Three others have gone before you. You must follow them and find a way into the center of the maze that starts behind me. If you meet them, kill them. Only one of you will make it to the end, one of you will be the ultimate prey. There, if you survive, you will be granted the right to battle me. But to fight me in all my glory would be unfair, so I shall limit the fight to only one of my aspects. If somehow you manage to survive this last ordeal, you will be returned to your proper place. Now go.” He said to me and vanished. There was a gap in the wall at the far end of the room.
He’d given me the rules to the game. There was nothing left to do but to play along. I took a deep breath, drew Forgeheart, readied my shield and entered the maze.

There was to be said something about the architecture. With most mazes, there is the ability to keep track of one’s direction by looking at the sun or the stars. If those are unavailable, like when the maze is underground, there is still the light coming from the entrance. This time though, there was none of it. The only light seemed to come from the ice itself, evenly divided in all directions. The only way to keep track was to pay attention to which turns I took. I began by turning right.

Right away, I came in contact with the first obstacle. A werewolf jumped at me. I tried to dodge but I hadn’t accounted for the extra size my shield represented. Trice my weight in hungry predator slammed against it and made me fall. Its claws hammered at my shield, its fangs tried to chew down on the Steel rim. I stabbed up with Forgeheart and crawled away before the now frozen creature could crush me. That went less than perfect and it told me that I was not suited for the ‘sword and shield’ style. It would be better for me if I got rid of it and used the freed up hand for some good old punching. I stashed the shield in my pouch and ventured further.

For what felt like two hours but could just as well have been two minutes, I met no other werewolves. That changed though when I rounded the umpteenth corner.
,,Yah! Die, monster!” A coarse man’s voice echoed through the maze. I stopped walking and pressed my back against the wall in an attempt to blend in with the ice. Someone was out there, trying to get through the maze just like me. Hircine had said that only one of us was to survive this ordeal. But was it right to act like this, every man for himself?
,,Stuff it. I’m going to help.”

,,For Resdayn! Dwemer, Chimer, unite!” I shouted a battlecry of my own to distract the wolves and rushed further through the maze to meet my fellow prey. Ironically, the first cry I could come up with was the one Dumac had used when the Nords invaded Vvardenfell. A Nord shouting a battlecry once used to rally an army against Nords, how ironic.

I rounded five more corners before I reached an open area. There, an Imperial was fighting against three werewolves simultaneously while two more wolves lie nearby. He was dressed in Templar’s armour and waved around the traditional broadsword. A Legionnaire captain. One of the wolves saw me and decided I was a juicier target. Like all of its kind, it started with a straightforward jump. I stepped around it and drove Forgeheart into its hip as it passed. The beast crashed into the floor, unable to remain standing with one leg frozen. I struck again, cutting into its neck. Before I’d been able to withdraw the ancient sword, it had already frozen the thing’s brain.

I turned to the captain who was still fighting and so far had managed to avoid injury somehow. His armour bore the signs it had been instrumental in preventing injury. There were plenty of dents and scratches in the fine steel that was crafted by only the finest smiths in the legion.
,,I’m here to help!” I called out and struck a werewolf that had been about to tear away at the man’s unprotected left side. The creature let out a pained yelp and died when I drove my sword into its skull. Despite being primarily a monk, fighting with the overpowered Forgeheart proved to be more effective than using my traditional hand and footwork. Together, we had little problems dispatching the last one.

The Imperial leaned on his sword and wiped the sweat from his face with one hand.
,,I never thought this Hircine would choose someone so young. Still, I owe you, kid. Falx Carius, Knight of the Imperial Dragon, at your service. Say, you are familiar with the rules, are you?” He spoke, drawing a deep breath after each word. So this was the Dragon’s servant. I nodded.
,,Yeah, but I don’t want to follow them. We’re stuck on the same boat. It’s sink or swim and frankly, I prefer to swim. Two are stronger than one. By the way, I’m Ro-El Frost, a servant of Duke Dren of Ebonheart.” I answered. Carius smiled.
,,Good answer, kid. He may be a god, but he sure isn’t my god. My god tells that a man should stand by the side of his friends. I’m with you, and you’re with me. If he’s got a problem with that, so be it.” He grunted and waved with his Broadsword at the door on the other end of the chamber.

,,That door either leads to Hircine, or to another part of this cursed maze. Well then, Ro-El ready to proceed? For a servant you seem to be quite capable in combat, not to mention in possession of a most peculiar suit of armour and an even more peculiar sword. It fits the environment.” He continued. I loosened the muscles in my shoulder and began to walk towards the door. Obviously I had to work on my skills with swords heavier than a rapier. My arm got all tensed up after just a few blows.
,,Let’s just say I have fought in a war. A long time ago. The sword is a souvenir.”


This post has been edited by jack cloudy: May 1 2007, 07:33 PM

[blockhead]

Things are unexpectedly moving to completion, well, bloodmoon-wise, anyway. Very cool!

The homebrew whiskey line is a nice touch.

Zarador had better not been selling off my Centurions. Well, after I stole his own Centurion from him, he deserved to steal some of mine.

lol

My only question is the meaning of the phrase "for mayor trouble."

[jack cloudy]

The mayor trouble thing? Well if a dozen werewolves manage to cram themselves inside your room, it has to be a big room. And a werewolf means trouble. A dozen, mayor trouble.




The door was heavy, like Ebony. Carius only barely managed to open it. Sink or swim indeed. If I’d decided on every man for himself, I would be left with a door I couldn’t open. As it was now, I slipped through once he’d opened a gap wide enough for me to pass. I circled around the opening on the other side and kept an eye out for trouble. Carius forced the door open completely and then took up position next to me.
,,Well, no reindeerskull here.” He muttered, shifting his helmet for a better view. I agreed with him. Hircine wasn’t here.
,,But we’re not the first to pass.” I replied.

Dead werewolves littered the corridor we were in. Someone had been here before and done a quite thorough job at killing everything that moved. Carius crouched down at one of the wolves and inspected the body.
,,Hmm, judging by the shape of the wounds and the crushing of the bones, the weapon used was some sort of spiked maze. The blood looks frozen at some areas yet remotely liquid at others. Hmm, a freezing enchantment like on your sword seems probable. Less intense though.”

I was still circling around in case not all wolves were dead and smashed beyond recognition.
,,Blunt, spikey and freezing? No kidding.” I thought out loud. Carius looked up.
,,You are familiar with that instrument?” He asked. He looked rather stern though I knew it was just because he was a bit stressed. Any moment we could be jumped by a dozen hungry creatures each bigger and heavier than we were.
,,Yeah, I know who uses such a weapon. Tharsten Heart-Fang. My father you might call him. If he’s still alive, we only have to follow the trail of blood and corpses.”

We both followed. Carius kept pushing up the pace and I kept dragging him back. The old me would probably run ahead, shouting Tharsten’s name. The new me knew that doing so would be asking to get killed and ripped apart very painfully. Carius glanced at me more than he kept his eyes on the lookout for trouble. Obviously he was surprised at my lack of recklessness.

We found him in the end, lying on top of a pile of corpses.
,,Tharsten!” I finally shouted the name that had been held back in my throat till now. The former Chieftain looked weakly at the direction of my voice.
,,That voice….Roland? Urgh…..so he chose you as well.” He whispered with bloodstained lips. I knelt down beside him.
,,Don’t talk, Tharsten. Your Berserking has left you wounded.” I told him. He shook his head with the power he still had left.
,,No…I must talk. Listen, the Hunter has a weakness…….his pride….He’ll underestimate you…..Fight like no Skaal….would fight….Surprise him.”

I put my hand on his mouth to keep him from talking.
,,Hush, father. I won’t lie to you. You’re dying.” I interrupted him. Perhaps it was harsh, but it was exactly what he would expect of a Skaal. Death is natural. To die a warrior’s death is an honour, if fought for the right cause.
,,Roland…You called me…father. Thanks…..See you in Sovngarde.” With those words, the Chieftain of the Skaal passed on. Surrounded by the corpses of his enemies, his hands still clutching the Stalhrim mace.
,,Yeah, see you there someday.”

[jack cloudy]

For a while, I was lost to the world around me. Tharsten had passed on. The man who raised me in my earliest years lay dead on the cold ice. Dead, because some god was bored. Dead, just to entertain Hircine. I vaguely felt Carius’ hand on my shoulder.
,,My condolences, Ro-El.”

I stood up and pushed his hand away.
,,Don’t. Don’t make a mockery of his death with condolences.” I said. The Imperial’s eyes widened.
,,What?” He muttered half in shock. I felt a sting of regret for what I’d said. It had sounded too harsh. I’d verbally punished him for meaning well.
,,My apologies. Tharsten was a Skaal. He was infected with the curse of the werewolf. I saw it happen. It was only a matter of time before he would become one of them. He died like a Skaal would in such a situation. Fighting his enemies with no regard for his own safety. He was dead already, before we found him. What I’m trying to say is, he died fighting an enemy of the Skaal. To us, that is the greatest honour possible.” I said with a sigh.

Carius stepped away and peered into the distance.
,,I understand.” Was all he said. I took the time to close Tharsten’s eyes before I joined my ally.
,,Then let’s make that so-called god pay for all he’s done. We’ll leave Tharsten here. Let this place be a palace to sing his glory.” I spoke and together we continued through the maze till we found another door. Carius moved in like before to open it.
,,Steel god’s soul, Dragon’s servant, Wolf’s champion.”

Carius stopped what he was doing and turned towards me.
,,What are you mumbling?” He asked calmly.
,,The beast of ice. We Skaal have a prophecy regarding this. So far, it has been painfully accurate. So I’m going to place my bets and say that it is right all the way. There are four challengers in this game. You….Tharsten and me makes three. Now if I managed to get the pattern in my head, that means that we’ll find the last challenger beyond that door. And the title of the prophecy tells me that he’s not human.” I explained just as calm.

Carius looked at the heavy door that stood in our path.
,,A beast of ice? Well I didn’t ask to come here, I didn’t even ask to come to Frostmoth. I hate the cold! It pisses me off. And when I’m pissed off, no beast had better stand in my way! Forward we go!” He roared. I held back a chuckle. He was pumping up both himself and me. But he was right though. We could only go forward. I moved into position while he heaved the door open. Once open far enough, I jumped through.

I had reached the end of the maze. There were no cramped tunnels here, no howling wolves. I stood in a large circular chamber, on a walkway above a huge pit. Stairs led down into the pit to my right. At the other end, there was a large gate. And something was trying to force it open. Something huge, like a bear grown out of proportion. A horned bear. I could hear its muscles crack all the way from here as it pushed against the Ebony bars. Then, the door behind me screeched loudly as Carius forced it open far enough for him to pass. The beast up ahead stopped and turned to gaze upon us.

I looked at its muscles, the claws, its horns like battering rams, its four eyes and its sharp teeth. I preferred not to take my chances with a fight. This had to be the beast of ice, another of Hircine’s potential prey.
,,Hail! We’ve been chosen by Hircine as well. Please, let us work together in this hunt! Let’s fight Hircine together!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. The beast roared and swiped through the air with its claws. Then, it charged.
,,I take that as a no.” Carius said and readied himself.
,,The moment he is about to slam into the wall, we’ll jump!” He shouted over the beast’s roaring. I nodded and brought Forgeheart up to my face in a twohanded grip.
,,So in the end, I do end up fighting one of Hircine’s challengers.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Mmmm exciting updates! The conclusion of Bloodmoon has always been a thrilling one if I do say so. It was absolutely nuts at the time though, those wolves packed a punch!

I can't wait to see how Falx and Ro-El handle the Frost Giant though. He's quite a challenge. Keep it up jack!

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, I'd call this cheating but it does sound rather fun.



We jumped. I was lighter than Carius and better trained for this, so I managed to jump farther. The Imperial landed on the beast’s back and grabbed its fur while attempting to drive his broadsword into its massive back. The Beast was capable of high speeds but not very agile due to its mass. I took advantage of this and hewed with all my might at its legs while it was still stunned after running into the wall.

It let out a terrifying roar as I struck. But its fur had acted like a pillow, and softened my blow till all I managed was a light scratch. And what was worse, Forgeheart’s ice didn’t harm it. I was shocked, in the short time I’d been in possession of it, nothing had ever resisted its power. Yet the beast of ice did. Of course it did, the title wasn’t there for nothing. I threw Forgeheart away and readied myself for its next move. It’s next move was hurling the legionnaire off its back. Carius managed to land on his feet somehow, but his face showed me that it wasn’t something he wanted to do again. Making a large drop in heavy armour is not healthy for the ankles and the legs. We both jumped aside as our foe tried another charge.

,,Damn, that thing is tough. And it sure loves to charge. I think we need a bigger sword.” He said as he tried to find a weak spot. The beast had turned around and roared another challenge at us, blinking with all four of its eyes.
,,Speaking about swords, where’s yours?” He added a moment later.
,,Forgeheart is of no use here. So it’s back to the basics. I just got an idea. Here I go!” I replied and dashed forward. My plan relied on two factors. My own speed and the beast’s response.

The giant smashed down with its arm, just like it should if it ever hoped to hit someone as short as me. I intentionally slipped on the ice and then flung myself up on top of its hand. It flung its arm back up in an attempt to throw me off which was exactly what I was hoping it would do. Its own movement launched me up to its face where I lashed out with my fingers, striking right at its eyes. The lens cracked and the beast reeled back in pain. I landed back on the floor and created some distance.

,,Nice shot, but you didn’t kill it. And there are no eyes left to crack.” Carius dryly commented. I knelt down and took my pouch from my belt.
,,I wasn’t going to kill it. I would never be able to penetrate into its brains. Umm, you might want to stand back a bit, this is going to be gross.” I told the Imperial. Carius frowned, glanced at the beast trashing about and then moved away reluctantly. I whispered a small prayer to whatever god might be listening before raising my voice.
,,Over here, you big dumb oaf!” I shouted and continued with whatever insults I could come up with, compensating for diversity with several repeats.

The beast waved its head back and forth. After a few seconds of doing this, it had tracked me down by the sound of my voice and it did its favourite trick. It charged. I could feel nervous sweat trickle down my face, getting into my eyes. Yet I did not dare to wipe it away and clear up my vision. The ground shook with each step the behemoth took, each step sounding like approaching thunder. I counted the steps, trying my best to fight down the impulse to flee. One…two….three…four. At the fifth step, I executed my plan. I reached into the pouch and focussed my mind on the object I wanted. The pouch’s mouth began to expand, growing to incredible proportions. I jumped away and shouted the command.
,,Charge!”

What followed was one of the bloodiest scenes I’d ever observed. The Drill Centurion rolled out and met the blinded beast head-on. It’s drill dug into the beast’s chest, throwing bone fragments, blood and shredded organs behind it. I slid back even further to avoid the gory fountain. The wails of agony hammer at my ears and I covered them with my hands and frantically closed my eyes. Then, it was all over.

The beast was dead, but the Drill Centurion continued to drill through it, its steel surface now smeared red with blood. With more than a bit of reluctance, I picked up the bloodied pouch and called the Centurion back.
,,Wow, now that’s what I call impressive. You’re full of surprises, Ro-El.” Carius said with a big grin. I didn’t share his humour.
,,Urk….never again. I think I’m going to puke.”

After relieving myself of last night’s dinner, I retrieved Forgeheart which had fortunately not been caught in the mess. The ebony gate was still closed but that was no problem for us. We were humans and as a result much smaller than the beast of ice. We could slip between the bars easily, though Carius had to hold his breath. We found ourselves in a pitchblack room.
,,Welcome, worthy prey.” A dreadful voice spoke to us from the darkness. Suddenly flames lit up along the wall, lighting up the room while at the same time a cloud of smoke obscured its center. From out of the smoke, two red eyes gleamed at us. Then a silhouette became visible as Hircine strode out of the smoke. The hunter, we’d found him. And he sure had a flair for the dramatic.