Corrupted heart. Options

[jack cloudy]

That's the charm of him. The way I made him, he actually writes himself. Whenever there is an obstacle, I only have to ask myself: ,,What would Ra'trith do?" And I get the answer. It usually involves killing. I guess some people never change. Or maybe he's simply addicted to it, like Skooma.




Left, second right, down the stairs, third left, past the grates. Ra’trith followed the smith’s directions to the letter. The now dead man had no reason to lie to him but he was still wary in case there was a trap involved somewhere.

Footsteps, ascending the stairs he had to take. The assassin slinked into the shadows and waited. The footsteps drew closer. A servant, a soldier? No, the shuffling steps told him that he was dealing with an old person, perhaps a priest or a scholar. There, a white shoe stepping into view, followed by a white robe, a hand holding a large bottle of brandy and finally a white beard. The mark of Mara was stitched into the robe with golden thread. A priest. Ra’trith suppressed a grin and came out of hiding.
,,So good to see you, father. The smith has burned himself severely, your help would be appreciated.” He said.

The priest brought a hand up to his ear.
,,What?” He called back, quite loud and with a slurring undertone. Ra’trith frowned and made a mental note never to try this stupid plan again. It was too noisy.
,,The smith has burned himself!” He shouted back.
,,Again? That dumb oaf, how often did I tell him not to stand too close to the fire. But does he ever listen? No, he’s too drunk for that. I always tell those youngsters that excessive drinking is a sin.” Muttering against himself, the priest set course for the armory.
,,Speak for yourself.” Ra’trith thought and closed in on the man’s back without a sound. The priest felt something warm and covered in smooth fur reach across his throat. He let out a gasp and struggled for a few seconds before dropping into unconsciousness. Ra’trith kept up the pressure till he was sure the unconsciousness had been permanent. He then hurled the corpse down the stairs. With the shattered bottle, it would appear that the drunken priest had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck.

Down the stairs, third left, past the grates. The grates were another obstacle. A guard stood on the other side, dressed in ornate leather and holding a simple wooden staff. An iron key dangled from the belt. The Redguard leaned casually against the wall and yawned, unaware of the shadow lurking nearby.
,,The way he’s holding that bit of firewood, he does not know how to use it. Probably never even practiced. That armour is more for show than for actual use, with a large gap right where the heart is. He’s just asking to get killed.” The Khajiit observed and fingered the hilt of his dagger. With the grates between them, there was no chance for classic hand-to-hand. He didn’t thrust himself with the ‘borrowed’ bow for this either. Shooting a target was easy, not so easy when there were iron bars as an obstacle. He was good, but no Bosmer. No, his skill at throwing was the only option.

He pulled the dagger from its sheath slowly, to prevent any sound that could give away his position. Not that he really had to be quiet with all that awfully loud yawning, he just preferred to do this in a professional way. He raised the Blade of Woe to eye-level and steadied his hand. He had one shot, one shot that had to drop the guard immediately and prevent him from moving away from those grates. He smirked. It would be a good test of his skill.

He crouched down and moved forward slowly. This close to the ground and obscured by the long shadows cast by the torches, he was practically invisible. When he reached the correct position, he stopped. The Redguard hadn’t moved and it appeared like this wouldn’t change anytime soon. Ra’trith swung up his arm and released the black blade. He followed its path with his eyes, saw how it shot between two bars and buried itself into the man’s head right under the chin, moving upwards till it cleaved his brains. A near silent gurgle, followed by a louder thump. The guard was dead.

The assassin calmly retrieved his dagger and took the key which he then used to open the grates. Now he could pass. The corridor went straight ahead till it reached a simple wooden door. The entrance to the map room. Ra’trith gave the door a closer inspection. It swung outward and was for as far as he knew, the only entrance. It was a perfect ambush, impossible to sneak up on without breaking down the walls, something which was beyond his abilities.
,,Only one way to do this.”

The door splintered into a hundred pieces. The scholars and their apprentices looked up. Something swept through the air, piercing a heart. Something else followed, bigger and more dangerous. It tore out a young boy’s throat and then hurled the dead body against a group that stood around a table. The survivors had not yet realized the threat before it was too late.

Ra’trith sniffed up the smell of fresh blood and laughed. He’d expected about a dozen guards but what did he find? Elders and children. His paranoia had grossly overestimated the danger that hid in the room. He cast a glance at the map on the table. It was a large map of Tamriel, with nearly every single known settlement marked. Most of it had become unreadable from the blood that had sprayed all over the room. The doubtlessly expensive map had become useless in just five seconds. He looked further but only found a continuation of the same pattern. Paper soaked with blood, ink mixed with the same blood. He stopped laughing.

,,I screwed up again. I wanted to take a look at the maps but I destroyed them before I had the chance. All that’s left is that chest.” He walked over to the chest and kneeled down. He became more hopeful when he noticed the sturdy construction of the wooden box. Surely it was meant to hold something valuable.

Large amounts of Iron had been used to reinforce the basic structure. The lock was heavy and complex. He could see the countless needles hidden inside small tunnels. It was trapped, and if the trap went off, it could cause as much carnage as he’d just caused himself. He couldn’t force it open, as that would likely set off the trap, not to mention that he wouldn’t be able to crack the bands of iron in the first place. Likewise, he couldn’t pick it. While he was an assassin, his approach walked the line between ambush and frontal assault. Picking locks was something he’d never bothered to learn.

He stepped back from the chest and then took one last look at the room he was in. He needed a key and there was only one place he knew where he could find one.
,,In the end, I’m back where I started. All paths lead to the king of this place. Heh, killing him and taking his key will be easy if all guards are as stupid as the one at the grates.”

[jack cloudy]

And more killing. Grumble, why can't I seem to get character development or even two pages without a fight in this story?





,,And then when I was fourteen, I went in search of the great crown of Lindai. Have you ever been in an Ayleid ruin? I’m telling you, those things are nasty. Nice ambience, but nasty traps. Especially dangerous for a young kid like me. So anyway, I…..” Marsh clamped a hand over his ear. King Erick had been droning on and on about his obsession for two hours now.
,,Treasurehunting, such a boring subject. Someone shoot him.” He grumbled under his breath.

,,AIEGH!” The king threw his heavy throne back and writhed on the cold floor in agony. A simple steel arrow had drilled a hole through his heart. Everyone else in the room flew into a panic.
,,Wow! I was just joking!” Marsh thought. A second arrow flew out, this time hitting him in the arm. He let out a hiss and dove under the table. In doing so, he threw his chair back which hit his staff and caused it to tip over and roll under the table as well. He gratefully gripped the curled shaft.
,,What’s going on?”

Aran had responded right after the second arrow had been fired.
,,Get down!” He shouted at Rajn and forced her under the table. He then reached for his spear and took cover as well. The Bosmer was shaken out of her zombie-like state by the sudden turn of events.
,,Wah? Hey, that’s my arrow!” She shrieked, looking at the arrow that stuck into the chair she’d been sitting on.
,,Who stole my bow?!”

,,Silence!” Aran called back and peered out from under the table. Whoever was shooting at the inhabitants of the room, he couldn’t see him. But judging from the arrows, he was quite sure that the archer was firing from beyond the double doors.
,,The world has gone mad. It seems like we can’t have a single night nowadays without someone trying to kill us.” Marsh spoke, having crawled up to them. He glared at the arrow that stuck into his arm.
,,And I’m seriously doubting the balance of our party. What we need if we get out of here is a healer.” He added.

Aran nodded.
,,The thought occurred to me as well. Anyway, the archer is shooting from behind the doors. Comments, suggestions?” He said, not letting his eyes wander from the doors.
,,Apart from having stolen my bow, it is my opinion that the jerk is good but not a professional. He can’t keep it straight while drawn. Damn thieves, I hate them!” Rajn complained. Her two companions blinked and then suddenly began to laugh.
,,What?!” She asked them in an annoyed tone.
,,I hate thieves, says the thief.” Aran hiccupped.

The Bosmer cocked an eyebrow.
,,So what? Just because I like stealing doesn’t mean I have to like people who steal from me. Never knew the hardened Dunmer warrior could laugh by the way.” She giggled.
,,A whole tribe of thieves. Bosmer society must be so disfuntional.” Aran commented, still trying to get his breathing back under control.
,,Yeah, our society is very dysfunctional. It’s a miracle the normal shops aren’t robbed out of their business.”

,,Anyway, we’re still in trouble. Stay here.” Marsh hissed, all serious again. He snapped off the arrow embedded into his arm and gestured with a bloodied hand.
,,Mekras Olfis.” He chanted slowly. The air around him seemed to thicken, forming into a nearly invisible shell.
,,Now watch and be amazed.”

The mage got up from under the table and made a run for the doors. An arrow launched out to meet him, only to shatter against the barrier that whirled around him. He’d now reached the door. He swung his staff around and raked it against the doorframe.
,,Force Wall!” A second barrier just like the one that protected him took form, effectively sealing off the room from the hidden archer.
,,Non-Argonian spells. They lack finesse, but sometimes they do come in handy.”

He turned his back towards the barrier and addressed the survivors.
,,It is safe to come out now. The barrier will hold for approximately five minutes. I suggest you prepare for when it falls.” He hissed loudly and then walked back to the two elves.
,,Not bad.” Aran grunted, nodding in respect.
,,That was sweet! Can you teach me?” Rajn squeeled.
,,And why would you want to learn this?” Marsh inquired, bending down to see under the table.
,,Well duh. If I mess up and get the townguards after me, this would be one good trick to know, don't you think?”

Outside the room, Ra’trith threw the bow down together with the quiver of arrows.
,,Alright, the king lies dead. That’s the good news. Bad news is, I only killed about four non-essential anonymous meatshields and missed the two who were most important. The Elf and the mage. Hmmph, and with that stupid wall of air in the way, I can’t get to them or the key. I think I’ll leave now and ambush them when they crawl out of hiding.”

[minque]

And more killing. Grumble, why can't I seem to get character development or even two pages without a fight in this story?

well..some can...and some can´t!!



But you do have a way of describing fights that I envy you! The reason I do not involve fighting is that I suck writing fighting-scenes!

[Dire Cheesecake]

I hate Rat'rith and hope he dies horribly. Take that as a compliment for your villain.

[The Metal Mallet]

Wow, these guards seem quite inept. You'd think finding more and more bodies would raise some alarm and not just be a bunch coincidences

And yes, I agree with Minque about your battle-writing abilities. They are certainly very good and very easy to follow. Always nice to read a great fight sequence. Poor King Erik though...

[jack cloudy]

Well, the guards are inept. But hey, what do you expect of people who live in a castle yet only use weapons as merchandise? And there is the fact that our hated assassin is always on top of things.




Marsh shook his tail.
,,I should’ve guessed it. Now back to more serious subjects. That barrier will fall, what are we going to do?” He hissed, somehow trying to bring the role of leader to their mottley group. He was rather surprised that they hadn’t fallen apart yet. He had his own thoughts on what they should do yet to push his own oppinions would make the others feel undervalued. And nothing was worse than feeling undervalued. It would cause a lack of trust and ultimately, certain death.
,,Hmm, I wouldn’t trust the guards any longer if I were you. They’ve taken ‘keepers of peace’ a bit too far. The only weapon they have is a simple piece of wood and I doubt any of them know how to use it. No, we must get out of this on our own, preferably sooner than later.” Aran grunted. He used his spear to point out the two guards in the room, who seemed too terrified to make any rational judgement. Obviously they had never had to deal with anything worse than a drunken brawl. Having an apparently deadly killer in their midst was a new experience for them.


,,Escape. That would be a good plan. Now that we have the basics, let’s fill out the details. There’s not much time left. Rajn, what do you know?” The Argonian asked next. The Bosmer blinked for a moment and finally raised her hands.
,,Know what?” She asked.
,,Know what we are up against, of course! What hostiles there are, where they are and what the best escape route is!” Marsh explained in an impatient tone.
,,How should I know?”

By now, he felt the desire to strangle her. But the scrolls had spoken. That, and he wasn’t the type who committed murder out of passion.
,,Why did we bring you along, unbound eye?” He instead spoke, placing heavy emphasis on the last two words.
,,Oh. What, don’t tell me you expect me to do that all the time. I go with normal sight most of the time. Constant see-through would be sooo awkward.” Rajn said with her irritatingly innocent voice. Then, she gigled.
,,Of course, it does have its perks.” She added.
,,Rajn.” Aran interjected. He had a much greater sense of authority than Marsh and managed to get her back in line with just that one word.

,,Ok, ok. At the door, no one. Several guards walking around on their own. About five dudes taking a nap in a room with lots of tables, a deliciously well-trapped chest that’s just asking to get picked….Ok, no distractions!” She began and paused when the Dunmer and the Argonian gave her a warning glare.
,,Can’t take a joke, dullies. Not much else. A bunch of servants running around, a guard taking a nap, a robed guy who’s fallen down the stairs. Three more guards taking a nap, one guard running…”

Ra’trith heared the loud thumping of footsteps coming closer. He slinked back in the closet he’d chosen as his hideout and waited.
,,One….two….now.” He jumped out and drew his claws across the man’s face, followed by a kick to the heart. The guard dropped with a muffled scream. The assassin dropped his latest victim in the closet, on top of the three earlier ones and closed the door.
,,That’s the problem with individual patrols. No one to watch your back. Not that two would have caused much of a problem. Heh, I can get every guard this way before a decent alarm is raised. The ones from the throne room will have to come past here as well.”

,,Eww! Marshie, you’re looting a bleeding corpse!” Marsh-Speaker raised a mental eyebrow. Now he was ‘Marshie’?
,,This bleeding corpse was king Erick. It speaks for itself that he was the primary target for this assassination. Anything else would be a random bonus. Now the important thing is that all kings, dukes and whoever is in charge of a place has the keys to all locks on his person. It is tradition. Having keys would make our job easier.” He explained. A bit more fumbling in the man’s pockets and he found a large ring with countless keys attached, varying from tiny and light to huge and heavy.
,,We don’t need keys. I keep lockpicks in my hair.” Rajn muttered under her breath but did not voice her opinion out loud. Despite appearances, she knew when she was pushing the limit. It was just so much fun to play the ‘annoying shortie’ stereotype.

,,Somehow, I doubt that there were any random shots there.” Aran said, scratching his chin and looking at the arrows sticking into things.
,,Consider this, out of the people that were hit. There was one king, one entertainer who practiced dagger-juggling, one firebreather, one animal tamer and his animal. With the exception of the king those where the only ones who would have the means to fight back. The guards here are pathetic as I’ve already said. Now the worrying thing is this, he also targeted you, Marsh. And why would he target Rajn? She is perfectly helpless without her bow. She couldn’t even drop a fly without one.” He continued.

,,Well thank you for the compliment.” Rajn grumbled. Marsh though nodded.
,,I think you have a point. The amount of randomness might be a lot smaller than I thought. He targeted Rajn and me as well. In case of me, it is easy. I was sitting next to the king, I had to be important. But Rajn? Does he know her? Does he have a score to settle?” He asked himself.
,,Oh, come on. The only people who would want me dead or injured are on the other side of the continent. Valenwood! Just stick with the random theory, it’s the only one that makes sense. I’m saying, you politicians are all addicted to your imagined conspiracies!” Rajn shouted for all to hear.
,,Right, that would be reasonable.” Marsh agreed.

,,Nevertheless. We should get moving, your barrier has fallen.” Aran interrupted their conversation and readied his spear in case someone would come through. His greatest fear at the moment was another salvo of arrows.
,,Yippee! My bow is lying just outside the door, no one to watch it!” He managed a grim smile. His greatest fear had been dissolved, but his other fears remained. And he couldn’t help but wonder who was behind all this.

[The Metal Mallet]

A collision between Ra'trith and the others seems inevitable now. I can't wait.

Excellent update, jack. I always get a kick out of Rajn's snotty comments.

[jack cloudy]

Yeah, she is quite the character, isn't she? And sorry, but I'm going to work u to the big confrontation slowly.





His thumb caressed the small switch embedded in his spear’s shaft. Someone had started killing in here. Keeping up the disguise as a simple walking aid was no longer desired.
,,How is your arm?” He asked Marsh who fell in step beside him. The Argonian looked at the crude bandage he’d wrapped around the wound.
,,I don’t know a lot about restoration but I should be fine. Argonian wounds rarely get infected and even if it does, I am capable of warding off such a scenario with just about the only restoration spell I know.” He hissed in return. Aran nodded and followed Rajn silently as she led them through the castle towards the exit and with it, safety.

,,Hold it.” The Dunmer suddenly called out.
,,What?” Rajn and Marsh asked him simultaneously as they came to a halt.
,,The Orcs outside. I’ve forgotten about them till now but they’re probably still out there. We’ll have to avoid them.” Aran explained.
,,Nah, no big deal even for a noisy guy like you. Orcs are dumb, just throw a rock and they’ll all run after it.” Rajn claimed with a slight grin.
,,Not as dumb as most people believe. Orc society is crude, yes. But it is a society based around warrior clans. They know quite a bit about tactics and the like. It is more likely that they’ll encircle the location from where the rock was thrown.” Marsh countered deadserious.

Not too far away, Ra’trith crawled through the shadows. He heard voices up ahead. Familiar voices.
,,We’ll worry about the Orcs when it is the proper time. Right now we should leave. We left Wayrest with the plan to go Rihad, remember?” The Argonian mage said with his hissing accent. Ra’trith’s ears rose up and aimed at the sound beyond the corner.
,,Wayrest? That’s far up north in High Rock. How did they get there so fast? And why are they travelling south now? It’s like they somehow skipped their trek north before it even began.” He wondered but cast aside the thought. He should focus on his assassination and after he’d claimed his revenge, such questions wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.

,,Right. Rajn, stop staring at the wall and lead the way.” The gravely voice of the Dunmer warrior now spoke. Ra’trith remembered the name he’d heard while hiding under the dock. It had been partially obscured by the rolling waves but this time he’d heard it clear as glass.
,,So, my target has a name now. That’s just the way I like it. I’ll call you by your name when you are about to die.”
,,Right on. Follow me. And I’m not staring at the wall.” He peeked his ears once more. Had he detected a quiver in the Elf’s voice?

Any further thought was cut short by the torchlight reflecting on an arrowhead appearing from beyond the corner, an arrowhead shooting straight at him with a soft twang of the bowstring. He ducked and fled through the dark passages. For twenty heartbeats, he kept running. Then he stopped and ducked behind a large vase. One of his paws went up and stroke his face, stopping when it encountered blood wetting his pitchblack fur.
,,I’ve been hit? How, how did she know I was there? Just who is she?” He shook his head wildly. Yet another complication in his plans. This would be harder than he expected.
,,I need more information. I have been foolish and impatient. They said they were going to Rihad. Fine, I’ll finish my original mission here and then follow them to Rihad where I’ll surely be able to persuade the Listener for the freedom he required to take them down. Now what was next? Yes, the torch that calls in the Orcs. Heh, with a bit of luck they’ll finish it for me. I hope not. Letting others do the dirty work is not as pleasant as doing it myself.”

,,AH! Prepare for death!” Aran screamed and flung himself around the corner, ready to skewer anything that might present itself. All he saw though were torches and a broken arrow at the far wall.
,,Heyat!” A bolt of light gracefully curved around the corner and raced down the corner before crashing into the wall above the arrow.
,,Geez, you bunch of showoffs. No one is there! Not anymore, that is.” Rajn called out.

,,Then why did you shoot?” Aran countered and bent down to look at the arrowhead. He noticed a small fleck of fresh blood on it.
,,Who did you shoot?” He added to his question. Rajn was extremely agitated.
,,He dodged it! I never miss! Drat, who is he anyway?!” She thought.
,,I can’t give you a name, big guy. It was a furrball I’ve been tracking for a while now, our mystery assassin.” She replied. Aran rose an eyebrow and Marsh blinked.
,,A Khajiit?” The Argonian questioned.

,,No, I’m not going back to that discussion about racism. Khajiit are evil, end of story!” Rajn grumbled and stormed off. The Dunmer and the Argonian followed.
,,It’s a long and boring story. In short, she’s racist against Khajiit.” Aran explained when Marsh cast a questioning glance his way.
,,So I noticed.” The Argonian said back.

[The Metal Mallet]

I have a feeling it'll take awile for Ra'Trith to figure out Rajn's wall seeing technique, due to its rarity. I'm sure he won't drop the situation though.

Great work as usual, buddy!

[jack cloudy]

Yup, unless it is actually mentioned while he's eavesdropping, he won't ever figure it out by himself. That said, he definitely will go wherever they go.




Aran fell back to silence. He felt uncomfortable, distinctly uncomfortable. He’d put his fate in Rajn’s hands and there was nothing he could do but hope for the best. He felt useless. The Bosmer would lead the way, sometimes stopping to look at the walls, the ceiling or even the floor. And he had no idea what she saw. The situation had spiralled out of his control and it left him frustrated.

,,Of course, she means well, somewhere underneath all that posing. But still, I would feel so much better if I could take charge here rather than follow meekly like a blind Guar. Hah, that comparison hits the mark.” He thought slightly bitter. It was then that he noticed something on the floor, just after they’d passed a set of grates. He bent down for a closer look, oblivious to the fact that the others had gone ahead.
,,Blood, barely dried.”

He rose up from the ground and smoothly turned from his crouched position to a full sprint. Upper body leaning forward, his legs kicking the ground nearly horizontally, his spear extended to shift his balance forward even further. He brushed past Marsh and Rajn and jumped over what appeared to be the fragmentary remains of a door. Then, he stopped, slipping on the half-dried blood that covered the floor.

The warrior gritted his teeth. In his life he’d seen many things but this topped them all.
,,Stand back!” He called out with considerable effort. It felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing his throat shut. He fought the impulse to turn and run. Instead he forced himself to survey the nightmare he’d walked into, even though he knew that each image would be etched into his soul forever. It was a carnage like he’d never seen before. People were lying about the room, as if a giant had tossed them like dolls after he tired of playing. Most were cut open or partially crushed by forces that were no longer there. And everything was covered in blood, as if some mad painter had thrown his buckets at random.

,,This isn’t a mere slaughter.” He thought next. No one in his right mind would do something as horrible as this. A madman might but it was too horrible, too brutally efficient to have been done by a madman. And looking at the scene he realized something else. It had all gone too fast to be done by a single man. At least half a dozen, he estimated, had performed this crime.
,,There was a purpose, somewhere.” He then saw a chest, a sturdy construction of wood and steel.
,,And once they couldn’t open that chest, they came for the king.” He reasoned further. At the back of his mind there was a voice telling him that the king’s assassin apparently worked alone but he ignored it. He didn’t dare to think that a single being was capable of something so vicious, so terrible.

He left the room, leaning heavily on his spear. His companions were shocked when they saw the expression on his face.
,,What happened?” Marsh asked warily. He had the feeling that the Dunmer was at the verge of exploding.
,,Nothing. Don’t go and look. If you value your night’s peace, you will not look.” Aran replied.
,,No, not even you, Rajn! Don’t look, not even through the wall! Turn around now! Anyway, I need the king’s keys for a moment.”

After having made sure that Marsh would keep Rajn looking away from the room, he returned. His foot hesitated over the doorstep before moving through. He stepped carefully around the carnage and approached the chest. He wasn’t an expert as far as locks were concerned. The only thing he could say was that the key it required was a large one. That, and it was obviously trapped.
,,If I slip in the wrong one, I’ll probably trigger the trap. But if I don’t try, I’ll never know what justified this horror. I need Rajn for this, she probably knows more ways to open that lock than I know how to strike with a spear. No, I can’t let her lay her eyes on this place. The only thing I can do is to make the best guess I can.”

He looked through the keys tied to the metal ring he was holding. All of them were an anonymous stick of barbed metal to his eyes. In the end, he picked the largest and most complicated of them all. He closed his eyes and inserted it into the lock. As he turned the key, he imagined he heard a spring being released, or was it just his nerves? Was that the sound of the trap being sprung? He spun the key around with a decisive pull and waited. No poisoned needles ripped him apart. There was a loud click and the chest opened.

He opened his eyes. The chest was nearly empty, safe for a scroll and a folded letter. He took both and left the room in a hurry.
,,I hope I’ll never have to do something like that again.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Reading about the carnage in that room has left me to feel very afraid about what Ra'Trith can do to people. I hope our adventurers will figure out a way to handle that vile murderer.

Now I wonder what's on that letter....

[jack cloudy]

Marsh looked at him without saying a word. Aran threw his price into the Argonian’s hands. The words that followed made his heart freeze.
,,So, are the guys in there still sleeping?” He looked at Rajn, stunned.
,,Did she already see? Then how come she acts so light under it?” He asked himself and feared the answer.
,,I swear, you’re the least sneaky person I know. If those guys are still sleeping after you rummaged through the place, they’re either very drunk or have smoked the wrong stuff.” The girl added. Aran then remembered that she’d once said something to the effect of everything being blurry to her unnatural sight. She’d seen it, only she hadn’t realized what she’d seen. He felt a wave of relief was over him.
,,Yeah, all drunk. It’s really embarrassing and I didn’t want you to see.” He said, elaborating on the framework she’d already provided him.

,,Riiiight. You’re hiding something, and it isn’t a bunch of drunks.” Rajn replied with a sarcastic tone. The relief he’d felt vanished right then. His mind milled over the dilemma. On the one hand, he really didn’t want her to know. Marsh was neutral in the whole affair. He wouldn’t go look for himself but he wouldn’t help to get Rajn off the subject either. Aran wondered if he could make up a convincing lie but realized he couldn’t. It wasn’t in his blood. The only thing he could say in a convincing way was the truth, which was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. He knew of only one solution. An appeal to her loyalty.
,,Listen, Rajn. If you trust me, you will control that thrice-cursed curiosity of yours just for this one time.” He pleaded.

The Bosmer was silent for a long time.
,,Ok, I promise. I swear it on my soul. Good enough?” She finally answered. The Dunmer nodded.
,,Yes, that is good enough. Now why did you lead us here in the first place?” He asked, finally able to relax. The Bosmer turned to the wall she’d been leaning against and kicked a brick just above the floor. An unsees mechanism creaked and the wall sank into the floor with a loud rumble.
,,I saw this secret passage. This should get us out and away easily. It does lead through a Goblin nest though.” She explained while casting a short glance at the ceiling.
,,That’s odd. The furrball just lobbed….a torch over the wall?” She muttered. Marsh blinked and then hissed.
,,Of course, the Orcs! I knew there was something odd with them. The Khajiit’s mission was to pave the way for them. Now they’ll come flooding in and kill everything that moves. Let’s go.” He spoke, ducked and crawled through the narrow hole. On the other side, he found that the ceiling was high enough for him to stand.

Aran was about to follow when a thought made him hesitate.
,,Rajn, we’re going deep underground through narrow passages infested with goblins and rats.” He said slowly. He felt two hands push against his back.
,,Don’t you think that is the first thing I noticed? Of course it’s cramped in there. But I’m not alone and I’ve been through this once before. Anything is better right now than walking out through the front gates. I’ll worry about myself, you worry about the goblins. Now get moving!”

Marsh waited till the two elves had joined him before casting a heyat to serve as a floating torch. Not only did it light up the tunnels enough for them to see, it was also a handy deterrent that scared away a large rat. He didn’t know how frightened a goblin would be though. He looked at Rajn, whose breathing came loud and fast.
,,Rajn?” He asked.
,,I’m fine! Just get moving before I suffocate in here!” The girl hissed back at him. Marsh shrugged and set out into the narrow passage.
,,Aran, would you be so kind and take the lead? I’ll come up second and Rajn comes up last.”

While they were walking, the Argonian unfolded the letter. Keeping one eye at the tunnel up ahead, one eye on the paper, one part of his mind on his spell and the other on the writing, he began to read.

To Erick Stonekeep, king of Stonekeep

I, Uriel Septim VII, emperor of Tamriel, have written this letter to address a very important matter. I have long been entertained by your stories of adventure and delving into old and forgotten places in search of treasure. It is due to this reason that I have directed this letter at you.

Since recently, there have been rumours about an ancient artefact, known as the Tooth of Chaos. I asked the Imperial Battlemage, Jagar Tharn, for further information. He revealed to me that this artefact is a weapon, capable of making or breaking an empire. He further revealed to me that the Tooth of Chaos has been referenced in an old prophecy. I shall quote the prophecy directly to please your curiosity.

,,And in the waning days, when the Dragon’s breath shall falter under the shadow of deceit, a traitor shall rise and betray his master for an old promise, once given in a moment of folly. And night shall fall upon dawn’s beauty. Forces from beyond the Ebony jaws shall enter in disguise. Chaos shall come, shining like gold yet burdened by sin. And his tooth shall fall, shattered in eight. And the tooth shall be united, by an unknown hand. This hand will decide when the next morning shall come, with dawn’s beauty as its arena.”

While the prophecy is delightfully cryptic in places and even ‘feels’ sloppy, I cannot allow this possible threat to occur. Through this, and through the trust I place in you, I ask of you to collect a fragment of this tooth. My scholars have ascertained its location. It is marked on the map I’ve sent with this letter.

Good luck.

Uriel Septim VII, Emperor of Tamriel.

Marsh sniffed. There was something odd about the letter. Something didn’t match. The prophecy was crude, with none of the style that accompanied the two prophecies he was familiar with. And why would the Emperor trust this minor king like that? Why had the letter not been burned, as it should have?

He unwrapped the scroll and took a peek at it. It was a crude map of Hammerfell, with a single cross near a sketched mountain with a castle on its top. ‘Dragon’s gate, first piece.’
,,This is so odd.” He noted to himself and checked the date, only to find out that it had been written today.
,,Impossible! No letter can make it to Hammerfell in a day, not without a shiftgate! And even then, it shouldn’t be here! It is as I suspected, someone has planted this here without king Erick’s knowing. But who? Not Jagar Tharn the usurper. He would never allow any information regarding a weapon that can ‘make or break an empire’ to leave the palace.”

He looked at one corner of the letter. There was a signature, in very fine handwriting.
,,A.L.”
Next to the signature was a small sketch, of a sun rising up over a tree. Marsh made up his mind. Whoever had written this had given them enough information to proceed to Dragon’s gate and find a fragment of this Tooth of Chaos. He would bring up the plan of going to Dragon’s gate. It was the best option they had. They were only going to Rihad because of something queen Barenziah had desired. After that they would move on to Valenwood, in search of a shadow. Here however was a solid plan, with a clear destination and purpose. And the Tooth of Chaos had been mentioned in his own prophecy.
,,If it can make or break an empire, it can make or break Jagar Tharn. This must have been placed here for us. It makes me wonder though who our mysterious benefactor is?”


Outside the castle, Ra’trith sat on a rock just on the other side of the river. The last Orc had just stormed through the now smashed and broken gates.
,,Well, good night to you.” The Khajiit leaped off his rock and aimed a deadly kick at whoever had sneaked up on him. It was an instinctive reaction, one he happily followed. But his foot hit nothing but empty air. He planted both his feet firmly on the ground and looked around him, observing with both eyes and ears. There he was, standing only two steps away.
,,Revarim Kendri, what are you doing here?!” Ra’trith snarled.

The old Redguard smiled, looking completely at ease despite being in the prescense of what the Dark Brotherhood considered to be the most dangerous assassin to walk the land. And the Dark Brotherhood’s opinion regarding assassins was respected among those with less knowledge.
,,I am just wandering about.” The man answered with his cryptic voice. Ra’trith was not amused.
,,Really? You just walked into death’s open arms!” He spat at the old man. Now Revarim Kendri laughed.

To the assassin’s increasing confusion, the Redguard sat down on the rock and then produced a bottle of flin and two mugs.
,,Care for a flin? It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” He spoke casually.
,,This man is insane!” Ra’trith thought but he had to admit to himself that the man had piqued his interest. For the moment, all thoughts of killing were gone from his mind. A bit warily, he sat down on the rock next to the Redguard.
,,Why be carefull? If he wants to kill me, he can do it before I get the chance to blink.”

Kendri looked up at the stars while sipping from his flin.
,,The stars are beautiful, don’t you think? Imagine, each star holding worlds so strange, it boggles the mind. And to think my son has gone to one of them. Ah, how I miss him. And how I miss her.” He mumbled.
,,His son is on a star? He’s definitely insane.”
,,But a bird has to leave its nest and learn how to fly. It won’t be long, just a few decades, before he’ll be a match for his uncle. Add a few centuries, and he’ll even surpass me. Yes, it’s good to see a child surpass his parents. It makes life worth living.”

The Redguard turned to the Khajiit seated next to him.
,,So, embodiment of darkness, what have you been up to?” He asked as if they were old friends. Ra’trith felt the confusion increase even more.
,,The normal stuff.” He said in the end. Kendri nodded with a pitiful look.
,,I presume you mean killing. I can follow your reasoning. What’s dead can’t hurt you. But have you ever considered the advantages of sparing someone’s life?” He replied.

,,What advantages? There are none.” Ra’trith claimed at which the old man shook his head.
,,There, my young friend, there you are wrong. There are advantages with mercy. How to put it? Consider this for a moment. You have just defeated someone in combat. His life is in your hands. You can take it, or spare it. You spare his life and walk away. What happens? By walking away, you show that you don’t fear the revenge of him or his allies. By turning your back on the one you’ve defeated you make him realize how futile resistance really was. Neither he nor his allies will come for you as in their mind, any attempt to kill you would only end in disaster. Even if they could succeed, they won’t realize it. You have removed a threat in your footsteps while at the same time preserved a future source of information or whatever you might need. If you would kill him, you would be practically assured that an attempt at revenge would someday follow.”

The Redguard stood up.
,,Well, it has been a pleasure talking with you, but I must be going. The ones you are following are no longer here by the way. If you want to find their trail again, go to a place known as the Dragon’s gate. Here’s a map.” A scroll appeared out of thin air into the wrinkled hands. The man put it down on the ground and vanished without a trace the moment after. Ra’trith stared at the scroll, utterly confused.
,,Strange old man.”






And here ends this chapter. I expect to move back to Novis while the 'heroes' travel to Dragon's gate.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: May 13 2007, 08:34 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

Wow, lots of questions are raised in this installment. Like, whose providing the maps for our band of heroes? And what exactly is this crazy Redguard up to? Definitely interesting...

Very fine work, jack. Your story weaving is becoming a thrill to read. Keep it up, my friend!

[jack cloudy]

Edit: Could anyone give me some more information on the Staff of Chaos, Jagar Tharn and especially Ocato? I can't get on the Imperial Library for some reason.




Chapter 5: The first lesson.

,,Well, now this is interesting.” Novis thought as he stood in a corner of the great hall. Together with him, there were five people spread about the chamber. Apart from Ei-Rin the Argonian, they were all new faces to him. He saw what looked like a big cat, a really short elf and a greyskinned elf who looked more like a warrior than a mage.
,,Wew, three elves and two beasts. This is going to be fun.” The Altmer thought.

He changed his opinion when the Khajiit and the Bosmer threw themselves at each other without warning. The same had happened between Ei-Rin and the Dunmer. Insults, threats and taunts were flung around freely.
,,Ah crap, I’m going to be the only student left if it keeps up like this!” Novis pushed himself away from the pillar he’d been leaning against and ran to the center of the room. How to stop the clashing parties? Nodding to himself, he raised a hand at the ceiling and called upon his simple repertoire of spells, amplifying his choice as far as he dared.

An intense beam of light flashed upwards from his hand, spiralling towards the ceiling where it hit with a deafening bang. Novis managed a light smile when he saw that everyone stopped fighting and instead stared at the source of the noise. Then a loud crack reached his ears and he glanced up.
,,Frick!” He shouted and dove away before he would be flattened.

Moments after the chaos had ended, the swhirling waters of a shiftgate flowed into existence and deposited Harms on the red carpet. The Imperial shook off the water and looked at his pupils with a dissatisfied expression. He saw three bloody noses, some scratches, some bruises and one clumsy Altmer who wished really hard that he wouldn’t notice the large pile of rubble littering the floor. Harms glanced up at the ceiling and noticed the large gap in it.
,,I’ve been away from Tamriel for too long.” He muttered to himself and shook his head.
,,It is part of the rules here at the Battlespire that fighting is forbidden unless supervised by Master Borog. This is not Tamriel. Any war fought there will not transfer to this place. Am I clear?” He said loudly.

The group nodded meekly.
,,Good. Now since this is the first time and in part my own fault, you will not be punished. Next time however, such transgressions will not be looked on kindly.” He added and dropped the subject.
,,Moving back to the schedule, let me give out some quick introductions. Ei-Rin the Argonian, Favel Dres the Dunmer, Novis the Altmer, Bedroth Treesap the Bosmer and Ekapi the Khajiit. Welcome to the Battlespire on the first day of your training. The training consists of classes where you will learn about theoretic and practical subjects, and regular projects which promote self-teaching. Novis, your first project is to find a way to use your shaping talent to get that pile of rubble back where it belongs. On the ceiling. With the carving intact.”

Harms led the group into one of the many hallways.
,,For your first day, we’ll be looking at your specific talents and what selection of skills fit best for you. We have twenty years to train five students, so personal training schedules are the norm rather than the exception. Tomorrow we will give you your first real lesson which builds on what we’ll learn about you today.”

Separated by the infinite distance of the planes of reality, the Imperial palace was silent and dark during the night. This silence though, was an illusion. If anything, there was twice as much scheming going on right now than during the day. Jagar Tharn was standing on the balcony connected to his room. He had shed his disguise as the emperor and enjoyed the moment of rest. He looked down on the empty streets, a look of sadness in his eyes.
,,You’re all being ruled by a grotesque lie. I can’t do this, I can’t keep deceiving everyone.” He shouted into the night, hoping that someone, anyone would hear it.

,,You have to keep it up. You know that.” A voice answered. Jagar scowled and turned away from the old Imperial who had appeared out of thin air.
,,I know, Aureus. I know. It is just that I don’t know if I can do this.” He said. The Imperial shrugged and looked out over the city without saying a single word.
,,Aureus, my friend. Did you do it?” The Imperial Battlemage asked after a while.
,,Yes, the bait has been placed and taken. There was a minor complication, so I had to improvise.”

Jagar nodded.
,,Good. The plan must be kept on course, whatever the cost. If it fails, we will be set back by years. There has been a complication on my side as well. I have defused most of it, but I still fear that Valenwood and Elsweyr can erupt into open warfare. I want you to go to the border and limit the engagements as much as you can. Do whatever you feel is necessary. And stay away from people’s throats.” He said with a slight chuckle. His vampiric friend hadn’t drunk a drop of blood in the last twothousand years. The Imperial gave a curt nod and vanished the same way he’d appeared. Jagar Tharn clamped the railed. A light breeze tugged at his robe as the air flowed into the manshaped vacuum next to him.
,,Yes, the plan must be protected till it has matured, far enough to achieve its goal.”

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: May 18 2007, 02:06 PM

[jack cloudy]

Lots of thinking in this one. Enjoy.



Novis looked over his shoulder at the rubble he’d left.
,,Way to make a first impression. Frick, how am I ever going to get that stuff back on the ceiling? It’s like ten floors up!” He thought and felt like he could kick himself. Something poked him between the ribs without warning and he jumped a bit to the left while looking to the right. The Bosmer gave a jolly smirk and theatrically pulled his thumb back.
,,Oh, and apparently the shortie is up to something. Just great.”

,,Umm, what?” Novis asked after the tense silence became too much for his nerves.
,,What a show! Boom, and the whole ceiling comes down! Whee, the stories they tell about you uptight snobs sure aren’t exaggerated!” The little guy said with an oddly squeeling voice. Novis frowned while he put his hands in his pockets. After his last spell, he didn’t trust his own judgement about what was enough and what was too much.
,,Uptight snob?” He instead asked as neutral as he could.
,,Well, at least one person is impressed by my act of redecoration. But calling me a snob right afterwards? Frick.”

The Bosmer brought up a hand to his mouth in a show of mock surprise.
,,Oops, did I say that out loud? Anyway, I wanted to thank you. That furrball was all over me. Thanks for getting it focussed on the roof coming down.” He replied, still with that squeeling voice. Novis kept himself from shaking his head.
,,Don’t tell me this clown is supposed to become a first-class mage.”
,,You’re welcome, I guess. But don’t you think that attacking someone who is a head taller than you and outfitted with claws is a bad idea?” The Altmer said with an added touch of sarcasm. While he wouldn’t admit it, he could be a bit snobbish at times. Especially when he thought that someone had done something incredibly stupid.

,,Well, I would have stuck with what I do best, turning that furball into a pincushion. But you see, I have a sister and she borrowed the only bow in the family so I was, emptyhanded. I’m Bedroth by the way, call me Bed.” Bedroth whispered in a conspiring tone and stuck out his hand. Novis looked at the hand, but didn’t shake it yet.
,,Oh, frick. Now I’m thinking politics. Shake this guy’s hand, and the Khajiit will hate you forever. Hmm, gain the enmity of a pile of claws or a little archer. I guess I’ll take my chances in case he finds a bow around here.” He reasoned with himself and shook the Bosmer’s hand, fully aware of the yellow eyes glaring at his back.

,,Ok, Bed. So is your sister called Pillow?” He joked.
,,Ok, worst display of humor ever. How often can I screw up during a single day? Wew, now I’ve got to watch my back for the Khajiit. Maybe I should have thought this over a bit more.”To his surprise, Bedroth actually laughed at the bad humor.
,,Pillow?! You’re killing me! Pillow, wait till I tell her that. She’ll go absolutely nuts! I’d better not. It would be bad for you. No, she’s not called Pillow.”

Ahead of the group, Harms stopped at a door made of plain wood. He made a few gestures with his hands and a lock clicked.
,,Listen up, everyone. Open spell, one of the first spells you’ll learn. Most doors here are locked with low-level lock spells. I expect that you will be able to open them on your own within a week. Restricted areas are locked with higher-grade spells. You won’t be able to open those till you’ve advanced far enough in your training.” He explained as he led his students through the now open door.

The room beyond the door was as unassuming as the door itself had been. There was a desk on one end, and two desks opposite. A few candles on the wall complemented the scene. What came next was obvious. Harms went behind the single desk and the others all gathered themselves at the other two desks. Novis found himself behind the desk closest to the door, sandwitched between Bedroth and the Dunmer whose name he’d already forgotten.
,,Yo, elves got to stick together, don’t you think? Pointy ears forever.” Bedroth commented which made the Dunmer sneer.
,,Eh, right.” Novis mumbled.

Harms raised his hand above the table and waited till he was sure of everyone’s full attention. Then, he opened his hand with the palm up and caused a silver dagger to shimmer into view. He held up the dagger for a moment and then allowed it to vanish.
,,Shehai. An old Redguard trick so to speak. Handy for opening letters and the like though more commonly used to perform an autopsy on a living subject. Anyway, it is mandatory that every Royal Battlemage masters the Shehai. It is a symbol of our office, so to speak. Not to mention that a Shehai practically means you’ll never be found empty-handed. Unlike the Redguard Ansei though, you will be free in what you choose, as long as it is appropriate. So no pink flowers, please.” He spoke solemnly.
,,We had that once, and it was horrible.” The Imperial thought and inwardly laughed at the memories.
,,Now, I want you to raise your hand above the desk and focus. Imagine a weapon, any weapon. Now force it into existence, into your hand.”

Everyone did as said. For a while, Novis simply stared at his hand without actually doing anything.
,,A weapon? Oh boy, I don’t know what to choose. Ok, I’ll just scrap what I don’t want and take what’s left. A bow, not without arrows. An axe is too heavy, so is a hammer. Sword would be a classic, but one slip and I lose my hands. A dagger, like Harms? Nah, too short. Ah, what the frick. I’ll just go with a piece of wood. Like I’m going to need a weapon after a bazillion ‘how to blow things up’ lessons.”

He focussed, imagining a smooth shaft of wood. Yet his hand remained empty. He focussed harder, going so far as to develop the intricate lines in the wood in his mind. Still nothing happened. Only a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead.
,,Frick! Why isn’t it working?” He carefully cast a glance at the other pupils. To his relief, no one had actually managed to form a Shehai. Now he didn’t feel like a fool so much. But to his great surprise, Bedroth had conjured a grey whisp of smoke which he was now trying to stretch and press into a shape only he knew, with wild gestures of his hands.
,,You’re kidding me. An Altmer like me completely fails at this simple starter’s test and a little clown manages. Frick!”

Novis threw himself back on the test with doubled efforts. A single moment, he thought he saw a small spark leap across his fingers, though it might just be a reflection of the candlelight on his golden skin.
,,And even if it isn’t, I’m probably casting a lightning spell which is not what I’m looking for.” He thought when someone clapped his hands. Everyone looked up. Bedroth’s smoky construct vanished without a trace.
,,I’d say that is enough for now. The Shehai is a complex idea, a realization of will. It takes weeks to master its basic form and years to reveal its true potential. You’ll practice many times but for now, we have other things scheduled.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmm, lots of interesting things over these last couple of updates. The hidden motivation behind Jagar Tharn and Aureus has me speculating on what is actually going on. It almost appears that Tharn is just a pawn in the greater scheme of things by the way he's acting.

Also, Novis' first day of lessons and meeting the others was indeed humourous, especially the fact that Bed seems to be more magically suceptible to the SheHai. I look forward to more of these lessons.

[jack cloudy]

Heh, I'm definitely taking a lot of artistic license with Tharn. What can I say? I like my Tharn better than the official one.




Harms turned to the wall behind him and muttered an incantation, too soft for his pupils to hear. It wouldn’t do them any good even if they did hear. The vocal part of any spell is merely an aid to help focus. The real spell is formed in the mind, an abstract result of will, imagination and focus. He couldn’t help but laugh whenever he heard of how a supposedly almighty mage was defeated simply because he had been silenced. That mage hadn’t been defeated by his enemy, but by his own belief that vocalizing was an essential part. In essence, he had silenced himself by believing in the effect of the spell cast upon him.

As he finished his incantation, the wall vanished, first becoming transparent before losing all visibility. Behind the wall, a second room was revealed, one filled with all kinds of arcane tools, books and an ordinary broom.
,,Namely, trying to figure out what kind of spells you are best suited for. To do that, we have a nice little gadget, a relic we once got from the Psijic order. Quite a nice item.” He said while rummaging through the racks and boxes till he found what he needed.

The ‘gadget’ was minitarue mockup of Nirn with Masser and Secunda, all suspended above a bronze dome by metal rings. At each side of the dome, there were two handholds. The Imperial tapped Masser with his finger and pushed it along its ring to see if everything was smoothly functioning. He repeated the process with Nirn and Secunda before he gave a satisfied nod and planted the peculiar object on the table.
,,Now let’s see, who to begin with? Ah, Bedroth, why don’t you come forward?” He spoke and waved the little Bosmer over with his hand. Bedroth grinned sheepishly and hopped over his desk and landed near the Battlemage.
,,Show-off.” Ekapi the Khajiit whispered, yet still loud enough for everyone to hear.
,,Well, even though I’ve just allied myself against you, I concur. That was pure showing off.” Novis thought.

,,Now, grab onto the handholds with both hands. No need to hold tightly, just a light touch is enough.” Harms instructed and watched as Bedroth took hold of the mockup.
,,Good, let’s begin. Now focus as well as you can. Imagine a wall of pure force around you, a wall that can shield you from anything that might happen to be flying, from the smallest pebble to the largest mountain.” The grey Imperial instructed next. Bedroth looked like he didn’t quite know what to think of this but he complied, trying his best to imagine what a flying mountain would be like in the process. Before everyone’s eyes, Masser and Secunda trembled but they did not move. Harms frowned as he looked at the object and poked in the air with his finger, till he touched the Bosmer’s forehead who let out a surprised yelp.

,,Hmm, nothing. Alright then, let’s move on to the next one. Imagine that you’re invisible, that no one can see you no matter how hard they try. I’m not talking about hiding in the shadows here, I’m talking about not being seen despite standing in broad daylight right in front of someone’s nose.” He said next and again the two moons trembled upon the elaborate construction but they still didn’t move. Harms brought out several more ideas, all with the same result. Finally, he dismissed Bedroth and the Bosmer returned to his seat, looking rather glum after his failure.

,,Perhaps….perhaps it isn’t working right. I need to find out.” Harms thought out loud.
,,Very well. Novis, you are so far the only one who has already displayed skill with Magicka so you shall take the test next. Not only will we find out where your talents lie, but I’ll also see if this thing isn’t broken. The Divines know it’s a thousand years older than it should.” He waved over the Altmer. Novis moved past Bedroth on his way to the desk.
,,Yo, maybe you could….screw up or something. Just to not make me look bad.” The little guy whispered at the considerably taller elf.
Novis shook his head slightly.
,,And look bad myself? No way. Though I do wonder why there was no reaction. I mean, he was the best at the Shehai earlier.”

Novis gripped the handholds like Bedroth had before him and focussed on the test. He began with the wall of force. As soon as he focussed, Masser and Secunda slowly but surely began to orbit the miniature Nirn.
,,It does work as it should.” Harms mumbled and barked a whole list of orders right afterwards. Novis did his best to keep up. At times, Masser and Secunda would slow down while at others, they would accelerate. After barely a minute, Harms gave his last order, to imagine himself suddenly standing somewhere else without having moved. With a loud clash of falling metal, the ancient device dropped to the floor and broke into countless pieces, exposing its internal mechanisms of gears and springs.

,,Frick!” Novis shouted half in surprise, half in fear of what new punishment he might receive for breaking everything.
,,First the roof, now this. How often can I screw up on one day? Well, at least I gave Bedroth his wish. I screwed up and made myself look bad. Damn, who knew that thing was so heavy without a table to support it?” He thought to himself. When he warily glanced at Harms, he saw that the Imperial was rubbing his goatee while looking at the mess with an odd expression.
,,The rest of todays lessons shall be delayed. Return to your rooms. Those of you who arrived today, ask one of your fellow students to show you where to look.” He spoke and the class filed out towards the door.
,,Novis, follow me.” Harms ordered as he went off in the opposite direction.
,,Frick! I’m toast!”

[The Metal Mallet]

A have a sinking suspicion that Harms isn't going to be that angry with Novis. Call it a hunch.

[jack cloudy]

You and your hunches. Anyway, a really short update. Ok, I need an excuse for that. What about this one?
This update brings about the end of a really short chapter and it is not fitting to start a new chapter in the same update. Also I have written a scene of a potential Oblivion fanfic, in which Mankar Camoran gloats a lot before realizing that he's utterly screwed after the protagonist said just one sentence. Everything else is classified information.




Harms eventually led Novis into an office. Like with the hidden room of earlier, it was cramped with all kinds of odd curiosities as well as a large pile of scrolls filled with jerky writing. Novis heard the door close with a feeling of impending doom. The blank gaze the imperial transfixed upon him brought his nerves to the point of exploding.
,,What do you have to say?” The Battlemage eventually asked with a voice that was barely heard over the silence in the room.

,,Er..I’m really sorry. I didn’t meant to….I mean…I” Novis stammered. Harms cut him off by raising his hand.
,,It is not the first time someone broke it. Breaking is part of learning how to build. No, I want to know what you thought of your teleportation. Or rather, what you thought during your teleportation.” He explained. Novis let out the breath he didn’t knew he had been holding. He wasn’t going to be punished for that, it seemed.
,,Well, nothing. I don’t remember thinking anything.”

Harms turned away and looked at a large painted view of the Imperial city from a nearby mountainside.
,,There are many kinds of teleportation, yet they all have one thing in common. They require a destination, an image. That is how the mark and recall combo operates. The mark forms an image, an ‘anchor’ for the recall. In some places, like Vvardenfell in the east, the temples of the local gods are marked with a symbol that acts as an anchor for any believer who wishes to teleport to the nearest temple. As a result, teleportation is bound to a single plane, for one cannot create an image of a plane one has never seen.” He spoke with his back turned.
,,Yet, all teleportation is an area of effect by its very definition. All desired parts, like the limbs, need to be transported. Not to mention variables, like clothing. As such, teleportation is done in the form of a sphere in which everything is transported, even the ground. Therefore, the advice to all teleporters to jump before teleportation. But that was not the case here.”

The old man took a short pause, long enough for Novis to shift uncomfortably.
,,I know the sound of air filling a spherical vacuum as left after teleportation. Yet this time, the sound was different. An irregular vacuum, skintight and taking only that which was desired to be teleported, without any conscious effort on your part. You didn’t even take the time to form yourself an image. And there is only one conclusion I can draw.” He turned around and fell silent again. After a long wait, he spoke.
,,You are dismissed, Novis. Go to the library and get a book that details the architecture of the Battlespire, you will need it in order to repair the ceiling. That is all.”

After Novis had left, Harms again turned towards the painting.
,,It is in his blood to shift from place to place, across the planes if needed. The answers are hard to find, yet I must persevere. I will ask my friends to aid me.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Ahhh strange potential. Always a nice thing to have. I look forward to the continuation of this story.