Corrupted heart. Options

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmmm, Novis seems to be quite the mouthy fellow. I can't wait to read more about him!

Continue the great work Jack, just like you always do!

[minque]

Sweet Jackie! Very good writing as always.....Serena huh? I´m waiting eagerly for the continuation...

[jack cloudy]

Oh my gosh! That's just one letter away from Serene. Wow, I never knew random buttonmashing could turn up with something like this.

Serena's similarity to Serene is mere coincidence. She's just a commoner. Make things, break things, clean things and stuff. She plays a minor role in the story and her only relevance is the family ties she provides between Novis and Thanis.

About Novis, he's well.......based on me. Or rather, my strenghts and weaknesses. (heavy on the weaknesses.) So yes, I'm allergic to horses . (And dogs, cats, anything else with a fur, grass, trees, most other plants, and just about anything else you can come up with.)

And here's a little riddle for all of you: Thanis is more commonly known under a different name. Which one? (Don't worry, I'll reveal the answer somewhere in a later chapter.)

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Mar 24 2007, 11:23 PM

[minque]

Ohhh...a riddle! Makes you really wanna follow this I´d say!

[jack cloudy]

We're doing tons of tests at school this week, so it's a short one. More messing around with the names. But I'm not telling yet.





They sat in their corner, conversing quietly. With time, the attention they drew died down and by lunchtime, they’d become part of the furniture so to speak. As such, no one noticed when the snuck out a few hours later.
,,Other side of the village. The house sits nicely in the shade of an old tree. Would do well as a place to spend your vacation.” One informed the other, just as a reminder. The other nodded with a smirk and gestured with his hands. Both faded from mortal eyes till only their breath in the wind and the swaying of the grass among their feet gave them away.

Together, they continued their stealthy approach to the small building, cautiously swerving around the few Altmer they passed. They crouched behind the cover of a simple well and rested their backs against the wall, conveniently under an open window.
,,Novis, you should change into other clothes after dinner.” They heard a woman’s voice speak.
,,Serena Lucis.” One of the two men mouthed without a sound. They continued to eavesdrop on the conversation.

,,Aw, come on. It’s not that bad. I made sure not to step into the fricking dung of those fricking nightmarish beasts.” A second voice, younger and with a male undertone, replied.
,,Don’t argue with your mother. One, you reek. Two, I told you not to swear. And three, your father and I have been thinking.” The woman said sternly.
,,Uh, oh.”
,,Novis! Don’t go ‘uh, oh’ on me. It’s nothing big, really. It’s simply about your name.” Serena continued.
,,My name? I didn’t pick it. What’s with my name?” Novis’ voice was slightly slurred, as if he was drunk.

,,We have discussed it for a bit and we’ve come to an agreement. Novis, we want you to use the name of your family from my side. Living on Summerset with an Imperial name is not easy. You would have a much easier time getting married, settled down and such with your uncle Thanis’ name.” The Altmeri woman explained.
,,Sure…..can…..do.” Novis spoke extremely slow, pronouncing each word after a moment of silence. What followed was a loud thunk. The two eavesdroppers looked at each other quizzically. Then, a shadow loomed over them. A bit nervous, they looked up.

,,Good evening, gentlemen. Please come inside and have a cup of tea. Don’t mind my son. He’s just taking a nap.” They looked at each other with an expression that could be described in four words. Caught in the act.

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmmm a very interesting update for such a short one. I wonder who these eavesdroppers are...

Please don't leave me hanging! Still, good luck on your tests.

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, I had serious trouble with the next scene so in the ultimate show of laziness, I decided to skip it. Yeah, I skipped right ahead to the Battlespire.






Nausea, a throbbing headache and a dry throat. Those were the symptoms Novis had when he woke up. Oh, and stiff muscles.
,,Wow, that was one spicy dinner.” He mumbled half in jest as he caught his first sight of the world around him.
,,Very spicy. Welcome to the happy land of dreams.” He added, now slightly more awake than two seconds earlier.

Dark grey rocks, stacked on top of each other to form crude walls. A ceiling of the same stuff and cracked dirt as the floor. This was clearly not the livingroom of his home, nor any other place he knew for that matter. Not to mention that the smell was definitely not something he’d ever encountered before. The place smelled…..dead. Not just dead like a rotting corpse or ages of dust gathered in a tomb, but simply as if there never had been anything that could be called alive. No plants, no animals, nothing.

He got up from the sofa and walked towards the door he’d seen at one end of the room.
,,Goldskin should keep the door closed.” A voice hissed in a dialect he could barely comprehend. Novis turned around while inwardly calling himself an idiot.
,,Leave it up to me to not notice the only inhabitant of an otherwise empty room.” He thought and promptly his eyes widened upon seeing the inhabitant.
,,Frickity frick! It’s a big lizard!” Fortunately for the Altmer, he did not say that out loud.
,,Umm….hi. And umm….Why should I keep the door closed?” He asked instead.

,,Because there’s no air on the other side. In short, you would suffocate.” An Imperial spoke and stepped through a second door, one Novis hadn’t noticed till now. He took a quick second glance at the room.
,,Two doors, empty room except for a few comfortable sofas lined up along the walls.”
,,A waiting room.” He concluded, speaking out the last few words.

,,Correct, Novis.” The Imperial said with a nod.
,,You know my name?” Novis replied. He didn’t like where this was going.
,,As a matter of fact, I do. I spoke with your mother, she makes a sweet cup of tea.” The Imperial explained and took up a strategic position between the Altmer and the Argonian.
,,Lady, gentleman, allow me to introduce myself. I am Harms Meritus, Headmaster at the Battlespire. You may have wondered why we ‘kidnapped' you so to speak. Simply said, you have certain skills we desire.” He informed the two while stroking his grey goatee.

,,Hold it. What if we don’t agree? Are you going to wipe our minds or something?” Novis interrupted with a raised eyebrow.
,,Goldskin has a point. Ei-Ring concurs.” The Argonian agreed. Harms looked slightly taken aback. He smiled though.
,,That won’t be necessary. What do we have to fear from you? You won’t be able to reveal the location of the Battlespire to anyone. And even if you could, it would do you no good. In fact, I can reveal its location right now. First you must go through a Shiftgate, called upon by your own will. This Shiftgate must lead to one among the infinite number of planes you can choose from. Then, you have to traverse a rocky path that stretches for five kilometres past deep cliffs, flowing rivers of magma and deep pits obscured by a thick layer of dust that will certainly spell your doom if you step into them. All that while in a complete vacuum. So, if you can find the right plane and the right pad and survive the harsh conditions, you’ll reach the Battlespire which is the most fortified structure ever created by mortals. Not exactly helpful, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

,,Perhaps in a few years, you’ll know all the spells you require to reach the Battlespire. By then though, you’ll be completely loyal to us as you will be one of us. So, who wishes to leave? I can arrange that easily enough. You’ll be home in half an hour, should you desire it.” He offered and looked expectantly at his two potential pupils.
,,Don’t look at me, I just want to know all of my options. This sounds like a good careerchoice and my mother doesn’t seem to mind.” Novis answered.
,,Ei-Rin wishes to stay.” The Argonian hissed.

,,Good, good! Now as I was saying before our conversation took a slight detour, the Battlespire is interested in your talent. You must know that the Battlespire is the training ground for the Royal Battlemages, the most exquisite order of mages in Tamriel. We only train the most exceptional of pupils, those who have displayed a great talent and skill before proper training. Only one pupil is selected from each province, which leads to nine pupils in total. If a pupil refuses, we won’t chose another to take his or her place. There is no second choice here. The average training takes about twenty years, after which the freshly graduated class spends the next twenty years training the next batch of students while perfecting their own skills. Therefore, only after forty years is a Battlemage allowed to return to Cyrodiil and take his place as an official representative of the Emperor.” Harms continued talking as he led the two back through the door he’d used to enter.

Beyond the door, the decoration of the Battlespire took a sudden change. The cold and crude rock was replaced by shining marble, the cracked dirt by a thick carpet of red silk. Lanterns hung along the walls, shining with an odd blue light. Giant banners covered the space between the lanterns, each with a mysterious symbol woven into its fabric. Amidst all that, pillars of black Ebony reached up to support an arched ceiling.
,,When people think Battlemage, they usually think of the heavily armoured brute who bashes down anything that moves with a big axe and simple fireballs. A Royal Battlemage is different. Sure, we do teach you how to fight with weapon and spell, but in a more sophisticated way. The men and women we deliver are as skilled with their weapon of choice as the legendary Redguard Singer with his Ansei, and as skilled with their spells as the Archmage of the mage guild. More skilled, in fact. On top of that, you’ll learn about politics, mercantile, geography, history, the various religions, strategy. In short, a Royal Battlemage is not just an instrument of war, but also an example of virtue and wisdom.”

Harms turned around suddenly, clasping his hands together.
,,Now before I continue with showing you your rooms which will be your home for the next forty years, let me get better acquainted. Or rather, let me make you two better acquainted with each other. Ei-Rin, you hail from Argonia, from the place we know as Thorn to be precise. You are the daughter of a hunter and a weaver. Your daily profession up to this point has been that of healer, a self-trained healer. While the normal Battlemage dismisses healing as a skill of the weak, we of the Battlespire do acknowledge its usefulness. Therefore, we’ve invited you to the Battlespire in the usual manner. By taking you from your home during your sleep. My apologies for that, but we’ve learned that most people dismiss our story as the illusion of a drunkard if we don’t show some visual proof.” He spoke solemnly and bowed towards Ei-Rin. He then turned towards Novis.
,,Novis……..Just Novis, I suppose. You hail from the Summerset Isles, from the place known as Seneth. You are the son of Aureus Lucis, a wandering diplomat from what we’ve heard, and Serena, a commoner. Your daily profession is that of stableboy, an activity you don’t seem to enjoy, if your eloquence during the day is any indication.” He said with a wink.
,,You sleep very little, so little in fact that your mother resorted to drugging you just so we had a chance of getting you to the Battlespire. The Shiftgate only works for those who are unconscious and for those who step through out of their free will. Anyway, your talent is that you are capable of changing the form of whatever material you come across. Might you give us a demonstration, please?”

Novis looked at Harms, then at Ei-Rin. He then shrugged and walked to one of the Ebony pillars supporting the roof high above them. He place a hand on the smooth surface and closed his eyes while his breathing slowed down till he inhaled only twice each passing minute. Two minutes past without anything happening. Then, the reflection on the pillar became distorted. Its smoothness was lost and in its place, the pillar grew several bumps which, while crude, could be read as writing.
You mean like this?

Harms clapped his hands.
,,Most intriguing, indeed. Now after you’ve returned that pillar to its normal shape, I’ll give you two the grand tour. You’re the first students to arrive so it seems you have about a week to get used to the place.” He spoke and turned towards a large set of stairs at the other end of the hall.
,,Come on, now. Follow me.”




Note: I have as of yet been unable to come across any real lore regarding the Imperial Battlemages, or Royal Battlemages as I call them. As such, I'm taking a great deal of artistic license with them. For example, in lore there is mention of Zurin Arctus and Jagar Tharn as the Imperial Battlemage. On the other hand, I also think I've read that the Battlespire is the school of the Battlemages. You don't build a whole fricking huge castle for just one student. (Well, the Telvanni might but I digress.)

So is there only one Battlemage, or are there more? My solution is simple, but I like it. Ideally, there is one Royal Battlemage for each province. As Harms has said, there might be fewer due to refusals. I wanted to keep the number down so the Royal Battlemages are truly something special. Anyway, the one who displays the greatest wisdom (not necessarily magicka skill.) is appointed as the Imperial Battlemage, which serves as the advisor of the Emperor. The others are appointed to the various provinces as advisors to whoever is in charge there.

With their knowledge of the Shiftgate, they are the fastest line of communication for the Emperor. Also, I've turned them into jack-of-all-trades rather than wargenerals. Zurin Arctus was a general, yet in Tharn's day, there was little left to conquer so he was more busy ruling than fighting. By making them jack-of-all-trades, they fit in better with their position as an advisor rivalling the Elder council in importance. That, and it sounds better.

[karpik777]

Great update as always! Oh, and about the battlemages: there is THE Imperial Battlemage who is the advisor of the Emperor, some kings and queens also have their Royal Battlemages and there was a whole legion of battlemages trained in Battlespire, who were also called Imperial Battlemages. It's a bit complicated, but that's Bethesda's fault.

[The Metal Mallet]

I don't mind what ya did with the Battlemages at all, Jack. I guess that's mainly because my knowledge on the subject is very limited to a few readings I've seen (I became of TES fan during Morrowind and have yet to explore the past games). But I thought the description the Battlespire itself was wonderful. I can't wait to read more about this training and life in this crazy tower. Good work!

[jack cloudy]

Maybe I'm revealing too much here, but it can't be helped. Anyway, enjoy.




Ra’trith had travelled as fast as usual. Even the excessive heat that plagued the day could not slow him down. He’d simply chosen the cold night as the time he would travel and the day as the time he would seek shelter and rest.

Now he was sitting at a creek, hidden from view from unwanted observers by a few round boulders. The water flowed around his toes and for a while, drinking was the only activity he performed. Once he’d cooled himself with the fresh liquid, he returned to his mission. Upstream, about an arrowshot away, he could make out a few rough tents that had been planted on the grass which grew near the river. Downstream and much further away, he saw a massive fortress sitting amidst a labyrinth of fields and irrigation canals. A boat was slowly making its way up the stream.
,,Stonekeep.”

His gaze returned to the tents and the green-skinned giants that walked among them. The Orcs made an incredible amount of noise, easily drowning out the sound of the clattering river. From his vantage point, he had no trouble listening in on their tall tales and rough jokes. And their constant bickering which usually ended with a broken nose or worse. The Khajiit growled under his breath and shook his head. He did not like the thought of dealing with those dumb oafs. Still, it had to be done.

He rose up from behind his rock and approached the camp in plain view. He calmly waited till every single Orc had turned towards him and raised his or her tool of death.
,,Who asked for an assassin?” He asked bluntly. Subtlety would be beyond the mental capacity of these animals.
,,Big boss did. He said that the assassin should go and kill the king with his woman and children. Also kill the scholars and advisors. But don’t touch any objects of value.” One Orc barked at him. Ra’trith frowned, a gesture that was completely invisible under his hood.
,,Don’t touch objects of value?” He hissed at the ugly brute.
,,Yeah, that’s what Big Boss said. Hrmm, you can take whatever you can carry, but don’t touch the maps. Not the maps.”

Without mincing any further words, Ra’trith turned around and stalked off.
,,Oy, don’t forget to throw a torch from the wall when you’re done! That’s our sign to invade!” The Orc yelled after him. The assassin’s tail twitched.
,,Maps? What is so interesting about a map? I’ll take a look before giving these idiots their sign. How does the destruction of Stonekeep fit in with Tharn’s plans? What is the importance of this map? I wonder what he’s plotting right now.” He thought to himself while simultaneously planning the best approach to the fortress.

At the moment, Jagar Tharn wasn’t plotting anything, unless deciding which bottle of perfume to use in his bad could be called plotting.
,,Roses? No, I’d better not. Before you know, people will be spreading rumours of a romance with the priestess of Dibella and that is something I can’t handle right now.” He told himself with a nasty scowl. He settled his dilemma by putting the bottle with rosefragrance back on the rack and then picking a random bottle from the remaining pile. He let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the water.

,,I’m glad I’m rid of those two. Forcing the Emperor to pick sides in their war? Hah, this would be amusing if it didn’t give me a headache. Valenwood and Elsweyr should have known better than sending their top generals to me. Accusing them both of being involved in a complot against me was a stroke of brilliance. Of course, a few charm spells here and there helped out a lot. With those two out of play, I’ve effectively broken the organization in their respective armies. Now, the conflict will simmer at a ‘border skirmish’ level rather than at a ‘war’ level. Perfect.” He thought pleased with himself. His mood sank though when he realized that his solution wasn’t that perfect in the end. His master had asked for something else.

,,I want full-out war. Let them annihilate each other. Genocide.” That’s what the monster he served had demanded.
,,I’ll need to come up with a very good excuse for why I’ve prevented genocide.” Jagar noted.
,,Mehrunes Dagon, how I loathe you. I’ll cheer the day you fall.” He then whispered at the ceiling with a faint smile.
,,And oh yes, you will fall. It is your destiny. The pieces are set, the game is about to begin. The end, is inevitable”

He lifted a hand out of the water and gestured towards his wardrobe. A gnarled staff floated towards him, the emerald at its tip bathing the room in an ominous light.
,,A man can never relax, it seems. Back to work then.”

Ra’trith had swam over to Stonekeep’s modest harbour. He’d noticed that the ship was a cargovessel, with a few huts for passengers built near the stern. It would be no surprise at all if it stopped at Stonekeep for the night. Then, he could smuggle himself inside with the cargo. It was a perfect plan. There was only one flaw. He absolutely hated swimming. As such, he was more than a bit impatient for the ship to arrive.

,,Stonekeep, home of the keepers of peace. Allow me to remind you that it will be greatly appreciated if you two give up your weapons during our stay here.” An unfamiliar voice hissed from up on the deck when the ship had finally gotten close. Ra’trith peeked his ears and tried to listen in on the conversation. Any information he might receive would be helpful.
,,Keepers of peace. That might explain why they haven’t driven out those Orcs yet.”

,,Keepers of peace? Everyone is entitled to believe in peace, but somehow I doubt that that Orc camp over there is so peaceful.” A gravely voice now spoke. Ra’trith frowned. That voice was familiar.
,,If I was in charge, I would have either forced them to flee or slain them. It’s impossible to farm with them nearby.” The voice continued.
,,They probably hope that the Orcs will simply leave. And we don’t have time for heroics. We spend the night here and tomorrow we’ll sail right on to Rihad.” The first hissing voice now replied.

,,Aw, I could shoot them. I haven’t gotten a chance yet to try out this new bow. Ten coins I can hit the nose of the biggie.” A third voice, a female one, now got involved with the conversation. Ra’trith snarled in silence under the dock. He remembered that voice. He remembered it all too well.
,,I’ve been waiting for a chance to kill you, Elf.” He said inwardly with malicious intent.
,,And then you’re going to bug us till we go out and retrieve your arrows. No way, Rajn. If you want to shoot, fine, but you collect your arrows yourself.” The gravely voice countered.
,,Drat. Why can’t I be lazy? Fine, I’ll just have to amuse myself by wandering around this place then.” The girl complained loudly.
,,But be in your room and bed at ten. We’re leaving early tomorrow.” The first voice hissed. Ra’trith dove underwater and swam to a location from where it would be easier to reach the ship’s cargo. He missed the remainder of the conversation as a result.

[The Metal Mallet]

Ooooo Ra'trith and our band of heroes are crossing paths once again. I hope to expect (literary) good things to come from this. I can't wait! More, more more!

[minque]

Oh my....Jagar Tharn huh? I´ve always wondered about that one! Thrilling as always Jackie....I´ll eagerly wait for more!

[jack cloudy]

Aye, I like Tharny. He's awesome. The scene switch from Ra'trith to Jagar Tharn was my favourite bit in the last update. Mostly because it is a scene you never see evil villains in.
Ra'trith: ,,I wonder what Jagar Tharn is plotting. He must be up to something evil."
Jagar: ,,Hmm, I wonder what perfume I'll add to my bath?"

And yup, assassin meets noisy Elf with big bodyguard, round 2! Only now, the two elves have gotten reinforcements in the form of a Heyat throwing Argonian. Who will win? Stay tuned. (Not this update, sorry.)





He resurfaced at the ship’s stern, just in time to hear three pair of feet moving across the wooden board that served as a bridge between the ship and the dock.
,,One with leather soles….No, barefooted Argonian. One light person, probably the Elf. I remember that she wasn’t the heavy kind. One heavier person, wearing heavy boots with the balance of a warrior. The Argonian wears a robe, the warrior wears leather with metal plates covering critical areas and the Elf has light leather with a quiver of arrows on her back. Mage, warrior, thief? That means all three general classes of possible troublemakers in the assassination business. This could be interesting.” He deduced with only his sense of hearing.

He waited till he heard a door slam shut. Then, he dug his claws into the ship’s hull and climbed up onto the deck. Just when he vaulted over the railing, the small door in the fortress’ wall opened up again, forcing him to hide behind the mast. Two pair of feet walked the board, both barefooted. Sailors. Ra’trith listened to their grunts as they picked up one of the crates littering the deck.
,,Man, a shipment of pure ebony. Smuggling is good for business, but bad news for my back.” One of the two complained. Ra’trith grinned from behind the mask.
,,Oh yes, Ebony is very good for business. Not just for your business, but mine as well.” He thought and caressed the hilt of his Blade of Woe.
He listened to their grunts as they shuffled back over the board which creaked in protest to the heavy weight. Once they were gone, the assassin moved away from the mast and made a quick survey of the area. Most notably, the location of the mast. Smuggling himself in with the cargo was one idea but if possible, he preferred a less risky plan. He was in luck, for the mast was right where he’d wanted it. He climbed to its very top, using the ropeladder so he wouldn’t leave dents in the wood.

Once up in the crow’s nest, he measured the distance three times before performing his leap. His target was a small wooden outgrowth on the wall, with a circular hole in the floor.
,,Entering through the toilet. It reeks, but it works.” He thought, squeezing his nostrils shut and breathing through his mouth. He considered himself quite lucky when he found out that the toilet had not been used in quite a while. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere. He sat down on the toilet and weighed his options.

,,Now, who do I kill first? The king and those close to him, or the Elf and her newfound friends? The king, he’ll be most heavily guarded. If I kill him, the whole place will panic which gives me a chance to kill the Elf during the confusion. Alright, now that I have a plan, I need to find out where to find him. Standard castle architecture involves a tower in the center, containing the throne room and the private quarters of the royal family. Guest quarters are usually located in a smaller tower nearby. Looks like I have to go to the very heart of this place.” He put his ears against the door and listened. Nothing.
,,No one around, then let’s get started.” He slowly opened the door and slipped into the dark corridor.

,,Bring in the entertainers!” With those words, King Erick of Stonekeep announced the banket’s official start. At a signal of the Housemaster, a troupe of brightlydressed acrobats, a tanned firebreather wearing only a simple loincloth and a welldressed bard with a lute. As the entertainers began their work, Erick looked at the creature sitting to his right. He hadn’t often seen Argonians before and never one whose scales were red like rubies.
,,Had a pleasant trip?” He asked politely.

Marsh-Speaker looked back at the king and forced his snout into a smile. Argonians had no lips to speak off and their mouth movements were restricted.
,,Most pleasant, milord. Wind in our backs, a warm sun overhead. Most pleasant.” He replied in the same polite tone.

The truth had been different. In fact, the pleasant bit had been over before they’d even made it out of Wayrest’s gate.

[The Metal Mallet]

I'm starting to feel the tension knowing that Ra'trith is only so far away. Things can (and likely will) get very dangerous for our little troupe of questers. I look forward to the eventual clash. Keep it up!

[jack cloudy]

Flashback! Also the name of a good game, but nevermind.




The first few steps had been without any complications. That was till they ran into Barenziah who apparently had trouble sleeping tonight. Or was she aware of what was going on? Marsh doubted it though he had to admit that with a politician, nothing was sure. And Barenziah was a born politician.
,,My, you’re up late, Marsh-Speaker.” She greeted him with that awfully smooth voice of hers. As slippery as an eel.
,,And so are you, little one.” She added to Rajn. This naturally sparked a fuse in the hotheaded girl.

,,You bloody racist! Hah, I bet you’re all happy with being tall! I’m Bosmer, of course I’m short! No need to rub it in! You dirty dustspitting prostitute!” She yelled, which caused two pairs of eyes to study the ceiling in a sign of annoyance. One pair was invisible.
,,Right. I told her about the park we have here earlier and now she’s set on visiting it during the night. I’m just going along to protect her from robbers and such.” Marsh said just as smooth as Barenziah. He positioned himself before Rajn just in case she would do something stupid. Or in case Barenziah would do anything stupid. He’d never seen her that mad before. He’d never seen her mad before, period.
,,Yeah, and there are rats under my bed! I hate rats!” The girl yelled from behind his back, causing the two pairs of eyes to repeat their circular motion.

,,Come along.” Marsh grabbed the Bosmer by the arm and literally dragged her out of the gate. He could feel Barenziah’s glare in his back and he didn’t like it.
,,We’ll be back after visiting the park.” He called out. He wasn’t lying, just not telling that they wouldn’t visit the park at all.

,,Now what was that all about?” Aran asked five minutes later in a dark alley. The invisibility spell Marsh had put on him had dissipated a moment ago.
,,Just trying to get the blood flowing. If she’s too focussed on my insults, she won’t notice the third pair of footsteps, now would she? Let me tell you something, Aran. You’re not a good sneak.” Rajn answered with a smug grin.
,,Yes, it worked and I never had an interest in the shadowy arts. But calling her a prostitute?” Aran continued.
,,What can I say? I found a neat little, illustrated, outlawed book in the back corner of a certain armory owned by a certain not too civilized muscleneck. I bet he was only in it for the pictures, too dumb to read. Turns out our lovely queen had quite the interesting life and quite a few males……How shall I put it? Males for entertainment and distraction.”

Marsh raised his hand.
,,That’s enough for now. Interesting to hear but we’re still in Wayrest. Follow me. I know a small harbour about half a day’s march from the city.” He hissed.
,,And one more thing, be quiet. When I spoke about bandits, I was not joking……..Akatosh’s tail!” He stopped suddenly, nearly causing the two elves behind him to crash into him. Light reflected off steel ahead. Light reflected off steel behind them.
,,Bandits.” Aran growled between gritted teeth. He kept his spear horizontally, ready to slash wherever it was needed.

,,Heh heh heh, look what’s out so late at night. A fat lizard, a dustcovered miner and a little girl. Think they have some money?” One of the bandits called out to his friends.
,,I’m Bosmer, not little!” Rajn shot back. In one fluid motion and the time of a single heartbeat, she’d drawn an arrow, taken aim and released the string. The talkative bandit let out a yelp of pain and dropped his dagger on the muddy cobblestones.
,,My leg! You shot my leg!” He screamed, hopping around on his healthy leg while clutching the wounded one. Needless to say, he was losing the respect of his fellow bandits.
,,I don’t like it when people insult my height. Can I have my arrow back, please?” Rajn replied casually.

If she’d hoped that the bandits would flee, she’d hoped wrong. As one, minus the crippled one, they advanced from both sides, daggers flashing in the moonlight.
,,Aran, can you handle those in front? I’ll take the ones in the back.” Marsh asked and turned to face the two soon to be charred victims.
,,Yeah, and get my arrow back!” Rajn added while she took up a comfortable position against the wall.
,,Heyat!”

Aran nodded and moved to the two in front who weren’t hopping around on one leg.
,,If you stay, blood will be spilled. It won’t be mine.” The Dunmer threatened. His crimson eyes seemed to burn in the faint light of the moon, making him look more like a demon who’d come to consume the flesh of the living than a man. The two bandits and their injured companion backed off slightly. The screams of pain coming from Marsh’s victims did not bolster their courage.

,,Too slow!” Aran dashed forward. His spear twirled around above his head, slashing down to the neck of one bandit. Bones cracked under the steel shaft which bounced off towards the spine of the second bandit. Both screamed out before they slumped to the floor. Now, only the talkative bandit was left standing. Or hopping to be precise.
,,Leave, now. You can collect your unconscious friends later.” Aran said. He reached down and yanked the arrow out of the Breton’s knee. As the bandit hopped away, the Dunmer rejoined with the others.

,,Your arrow.” He said and handed over the projectile.
,,Ah, that’s sweet.” Rajn squeeled and hugged the much bigger warrior. Marsh coughed.
,,I hate to interrupt this romantic scene, but can we move on?” He asked and laughed at the two flustered faces.



Note: For those who are wondering (though I don't expect many wonderers.) Rajn was referring to the well-known Real Barenziah series, or perhaps an early version. The Real Barenziah can be found all over Morrowind and is quite a read if you're looking for a not so perfect queen as the main character. It doesn't come with illustrations though.

[Lord Revan]

Yes, we all know about that series. The Moral, well, don't trust men for their looks and charms........

*Realizes what he just said and promptly walks out the door*

Expect an update for Revan later this afternoon

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Apr 10 2007, 10:28 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

Bandits... they never learn!

Great work on this update!

[Lord Revan]

Hey, everyone needs to make a living...... Or maybe they're just despearate

[jack cloudy]

I had some fun reading the Barenziah because it was different than the normal stories about kings or queens. I still seriously doubt the Tharn involvment though. The staff of chaos, fine. But the diary? Seriously, what kind of a fool would Tharn be if he keeps it all written down in a diary without properly locking up said diary in a maximum security, demon-protected treasury? That part of the Barenziah reeks of reputation manipulation. (Goody, I rhymed!) Anyway, update.


Marsh-Speaker returned to the here and the now.
,,Your companion isn’t eating her carrots. She sick?” King Erick mumbled to him. Marsh looked up from his own plate. Indeed, Rajn had meticulously shoved her carrots to one side of the plate and her beef to the other. She was only eating the beef.
,,Don’t worry about it, oh king. It’s just that time of the month.” The Argonian said, not mentioning the fact that it was always that time of the month. If not, he had yet to see her turn vegetarian for a day.

He put a carrot of his own on his fork and inspected the sickly green hue.
,,Not such a bad idea, at least the animals were slain this morning and not last week.” When no one was looking, he cast the rotten vegetable on the floor.

Aran had put one of the few non-rotten carrots in his mouth and now returned his fork to his plate, only to see that his pile of vegetables had grown.
,,Stop doing that.” He grumbled to the girl sitting next to him.
,,Doing what?” Rajn replied with feigned innocence and flipped yet another carrot onto his plate.
,,Dumping the food you don’t eat. Just leave it on your plate if you insist.” The Dunmer whispered. He promptly received another carrot.

He looked closer at the Bosmer. There had been many times that he regretted his debt to her but still, he couldn’t help but genuinely worry. She had helped him out when he was in need. Or at least, she tried.
,,You okay?” He asked. She wasn’t going on with her act out of defiance, but simply because she hadn’t registered what he’d said. This was not good in Aran’s opinion.
,,I’m fine.” She mumbled after he repeated the question.

,,You don’t look fine to me. What’s wrong?” The Ashlander inquired despite having been waved off.
,,Just a bad feeling. Not enough windows. You know, claustrophobia.” Aran dropped the subject and returned to his meal. She’d claimed claustrophobia but he realized that her symptoms were different. If she’d had an attack of claustrophobia, her eyes would be wide open for one. Now they were almost closed. She was hiding something, yet he had no idea what it could be. His hand reached for the spear behind his back to make sure it was still there. Marsh’s idea of claiming that the staff and the spear were walking aids had been pure genius. He felt much better with a weapon within reach. Another carrot landed on his plate.

Somewhere else in the building, an assassin was performing his trade. Grease, oil, sweat and burning embers. The scents told him everything about what to expect up ahead, an armoury. Ra’trith pressed his back against the wall and edged closer towards the door.
,,A smith, weapons, information. Destroying the weapons would lower the amount of resistance once the killing commences. But I need the information more. Interrogation is hard next to an open flame that can put my fur on fire. I need to draw him away from there.”

The Khajiit pulled back his hood and walked through the door, all in plain view. He nodded at the smith who nodded back and returned to hammering the glowing piece of metal, while casting the occasional glance at the potential customer. Ra’trith walked from rack to rack, inspecting the various weapons on display. One item in particular caught his interest. As an assassin, he had no need for claymores and pole-arms. A bow however, was a different story. He bent over to pick it up.

,,Sorry, sir. That one is not for sale.” The smith spoke up and, after carefully putting down his work, he wandered over to the Khajiit.
,,Why not?” Ra’trith asked with fake interest.
,,It’s the property of a guest. Damn fine piece though, real Dwemer craftsmanship. If you want it, you should try to strike a deal with its owner. Here, look at….” The Redguard said and bent over to point out a particularly interesting feature.

Ra’trith had stopped listening. His hand flew to the Blade of Woe hidden under his cloak, his feet spun him around. The Ebony reflected the flames of the forge as it traversed its deadly path, plunging into the man’s stomach till half of it was embraced by warm flesh. Blood gushed out of the wound.
,,Right now, you’re suffering a non-lethal wound. Part of my blade however is coated in a very fast and very lethal poison. Give me what I want and I’ll let you live. Refuse, and I’ll push the poisoned bit inside you as well.” He snarled.
,,What do you want?” The smith whimpered, fighting the urge to pull out the dagger. He felt an odd cold creep up through his guts.
,,The direction to the map room. You have thirty seconds.”

,,Go out to the left, second right, down the stairs, third left, past the grates.” Ra’trith grinned and pulled the dagger out of the wound. The smith clutched it with both hands in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
,,I didn’t tell you, but the tip of my blade is also coated in poison, a slightly slower one. It should reach your heart about…now.” Having barely said that, Ra’trith watched amused how the smith toppled over and fell into the flickering flames of the forge. He could honestly not tell what killed him first. The poison, or the fire.

The assassin picked up the bow together with the quiver lying next to it. He noticed a card dangling from a thin rope tied around the steel shaft.
Property of Wayrest Essential Supplies. Price: 20.000 septims.
,,Damn expensive, even for a Dwemer piece.” Ra’trith thought and tore off the pricetag. He tried out the bow’s draw and found out that while the Dwemer knew how to make their weapons, it was still not his thing. The balance and power was excellent, but it was extremely hard to maintain a draw. He would not have time to aim properly which meant his accuracy would suffer. Still, it would suffice for his current job. The Khajiit systematically broke every weapon he found in the armoury before leaving.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Apr 14 2007, 10:27 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Tactful and vicious, not good traits for a bad guy to have if the good guys wish to survice. I have a feeling the smith will only be the first of many to die this day...

Exellent work as always, jack. You have me hating that n'wah, Ra'trith.