Champion of Madness, ~A Shivering Isles story Options

[Destri Melarg]

I guess the SI has been working on Wrothken though, because he followed Jayred. I always liked that Nord. He and his obsession with bones was genuinely creepy, in a Texas Chainsaw Massacre kind of way.

Can't say it any better than this. I have taken two level 30+ characters to the Isles. Both were killed by the Gatekeeper, so I can identify with Wrothken's desire to steer clear.

Wrothken closed his eyes, trying to force away the hideous image of what he suspected Jayred might be using the "few hours" for. "Right," he said. "See you in a few hours."

[Jacki Dice]

I have a special treat for all my readers.

CLICK TO SEE KIRSTY!!

I just noticed she looks a bit lopsided and I can't do hands very well >.> Wrothken should be up in a couple days.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and posting It's one of the highlights of my day

~~~~~♥~~~~~

They Bigger They Are...

While Wrothken waited for Jayred to finish, he stared up at the sky. It was pitch black, spattered with clusters of stars of every color. He wished the sky in Cyrodiil looked that way. If only he could have shared it with-- No, her name is not allowed, he reminded himself. A deeper, uncontrollable part of his mind retorted with, Yes, but you can't stop me from showing you...

He saw her again. She didn't have that gracefulness that Altmer were supposed to possess. Actually, she tripped and stumbled into anything and everything. But Wrothken thought it was adorable, just as long as she didn't hurt herself. He remembered shortly after they met, she tripped and he caught her. Cliche, but the look in her eyes at that moment made him blush several shades of red. In fact, it was that moment that gave him his first kiss...

He grunted, violently shaking his head. He didn't want to remember! He just wanted to forget it all and be done with it! Jayred's taken long enough, he thought. He just hoped he wouldn't accidentally take his anger out on the wrong person.

After getting directions from Sheldon, who bragged that he knew where Jayred lived because he was the mayor, Wrothken headed straight to Jayred's house. He banged on the door.

"Uh... Who is it?"

"It's been hours," Wrothken said. "Are you done yet?"

"Oh, sure, sure!" Jayred opened the door and let him in.

Wrothken expected some sort of strangeness, but not to the extent it really was. Skulls, rib cages, and all sorts of other bones sat carefully arranged in bowls and on shelves. His table seemed to be constructed entirely of bones, along with a set of matching chairs. When he looked closely, Wrothken noticed that the bowls were actually skull caps.

"The arrows are ready," Jayred announced, holding two bundles of them. "Here are some for you, and I'll keep some."

"Actually," Wrothken said, handing the arrows back. "I don't have a bow and I'm a lousy shot anyway. I think you should keep them instead."

Jayred shrugged, sticking them in his quiver, on which Wrothken saw tiny bones forming a design of a larger bone. "Then let me give you something else," he said, heading to a large chest in the corner of the room. He opened it and motioned for Wrothken to look inside. The chest held a full set of steel armor. "I was going to use it to model some bone armor, but since you'll be up close, I think you'll need it more."

Wrothken looked it over. It was in good condition. He wanted to ask where Jayred had gotten it, but something told him it would be better not knowing.

"Now, let's go kill the Gatekeeper. We might die. But there's worse things."

If Jayred died, at least he would eventually become his obsession, he thought.

"Just remember to keep the Gatekeeper off me. The key to killing him are these precious bones."

Jayred led the way up the hill, just as a Dunmer in an extravagant black dress was leaving teary eyed.

"I'll take your bones!" Jayred yelled, as he started shooting his arrows. The Gatekeeper howled. It was a disturbing muffled noise, as he had no true mouth. As it turned toward Jayred, Wrothken struck its knee with his mace. Unlike last time, the mace made a difference. The Gatekeeper grabbed its leg, howling miserably. Before he knew it, Wrothken was hurled into the air. As he hit the ground, he saw the Gatekeeper running after Jayred. He dragged himself up, trying to focus. Thankfully, even with blurred vision, he was easily able to make out the giant orange mass.

Wrothken stood behind the Gatekeeper, beating its legs. He learned to duck underneath it anytime it turned. Eventually, he scored a lucky his and shattered one of its kneecaps. The Gatekeeper let out a piercing cry, so loud that all of Passwall emerged from their houses to watch.

Wrothken knew he had to hurry. He had no idea if Jayred was running low on arrows. He looked around, and suddenly had an idea. He ran to one of the trees and started climbing.

"What are you doing?" Jayred shouted.

"Just trust me! I need you to get it over here."

Jayred growled, but did as he was asked. He walked backwards, shooting the arrows at the Gatekeeper, until it was close to the tree Wrothken sat in. When it was close enough, Wrothken jumped from the tree, grabbing onto the Gatekeeper's collar. He pulled himself up and used all his strength to whack the Gatekeeper on the side of the head. As the Gatekeeper was falling, Wrothken realized that he didn't think it through enough. He had nowhere to go, except down with the giant.

The ground sent a flash of pain throughout his body. He sat up, throbbing.

"We did it!" Jayred cried. He slapped Wrothken hard on the back. "Congratulations! I was afraid it would be your bones coming out instead of his. Don't worry, though. I would have taken good care of them..."

Wrothken didn't answer, for fear of snapping at the Nord for hitting him so hard. He just started to heal himself.

"Anyway, the honor of taking the keys from his corpse is yours."

Wrothken looked at the dead Gatekeeper. "Actually," he said to Jayred. "There are two keys. Why don't we each take one?"

"Sounds like a plan to me!" With gusto, and probably some bone fondling, Jayred ripped out a large turquoise key.

Wrothken was a little more hesitant, and even more so when the crying dark elf from earlier threw herself on the monster's body. "My baby!" She sobbed. "My poor, poor baby!"

He tried to be discrete as he used his mace to drag the other key out. "You beast!" The dark elf fumed. "You'll rue this day, I swear it!"

"Um..." Wrothken wasn't sure how to respond when she burst into tears again, cradling the Gatekeeper's head against her chest. He picked up the red key and looked at the two doors. He was about to go through one of the dark walkways when Haskill appeared behind him.

"So, you've managed to kill the Gatekeeper. Pity," he said, looking at the slain beast. "Well, you'll now be able to enter the Realm proper. You'll notice there are two doors. One leads to the lands of Mania. The other to Dementia. Enter through either one. The lands are quite distinct, but both are Sheogorath's domain. You'll want to seek out Lord Sheogorath. I believe He has plans for you." He looked Wrothken up and down, adding, "Try not to disappoint Him. You will find Him in New Sheoth, in His palace. It is best not to make Lord Sheogorath wait. His whims are fleeting, and should He decide you are no longer necessary, it would be to your detriment."

Wrothken felt the urge to punch him, but he resisted. "Where can I find New Sheoth?"

Haskill sighed exasperatedly. "Must I do everything? Here, take this." He handed Wrothken a map. Passwall was on the western part of the Isles and New Sheoth was far to the east.

"I'm sorry that it isn't colored. It's all I have."

Wrothken thought he saw a very slight smirk as he growled. He turned and entered the gates to Mania. It was time to see what Sheogorath had in mind for him.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:04 AM

[haute ecole rider]

"I'm sorry that it isn't colored. It's all I have."

I've said it before, and I'll say it again! Classic Haskill! You certainly are having a lot of fun writing this guy!

[SubRosa]

Mmmm, Kirsty. Wrothken must be insane to leave that behind...

This was nicely done:
If only he could have shared it with-- No, her name is not allowed, he reminded himself.

As haute noted, this is brilliant:
"I'm sorry that it isn't colored. It's all I have."

As a side note to Destri and anyone else having problems with getting past the Gatekeeper, the trick is to ask around Passwall about it. Someone will give you a hint to spy on Relmyna when she goes to visit her "baby" every night...

[Olen]

You paint an alarming picture of Jayred, but you certainly capture the madness of the shivering isles in this piece (not least with him).

He turned and entered the gates to Mania. - not sure why but this line is great, very Sheogorath.

This is a fun piece and I look forward to seeing what madness lies within mania.

[D.Foxy]

Excellent drawing of Kirsty
Made me have thoughts dirty
Now excuse me, 'cos when I her see
Ah needs to drink - my throat gets thirsty

[Jacki Dice]

haute ecole rider- Oh yes. Haskill is a lot of fun to do. I love his sarcasm

SubRosa- Well, he did head into the Shivering Isles....

Olen- Thanks a lot

D. Foxy- Oh my! My story received a Foxy poem! Squeeeeee!! I feel so honored

~~~~~♥~~~~~

The Hypochondriac and the Doppelganger

The path of Mania looked colorful from the distance, but the path in Dementia looked like it was a quicker trip. He would have time for sightseeing later. It was nearly midnight when Wrothken reached the entrance to New Sheoth. A tall, slender woman stood at the gate. Her skin was a creamy blue, like a Dunmer, but she had light blue eyes, like Wrothken's. He could tell that she wasn't man or mer because her pupils were slit, much like a serpent. She wore a very revealing outfit, though as Wrothken got closer, he noticed it was supposed to be armor.

"Madgod's blessings," she greeted. Her voice was soft, yet strong.

"Um... thanks." He consulted the map. "Is this New Sheoth?"

The woman smiled at him. "Yes. We Mazken guard Crucible in New Sheoth. We ensure the Demented remain orderly and respectful of our Lord Sheogorath. "

"Crucible?"

"New Sheoth is a symbol of our Lord; divided, yet perfect. The southern half is known as Crucible." Wrothken felt like he could listen to her talk all night. Unfortunately, his body ached and demanded sleep. Daedric prince or not, Sheogorath would have to wait until morning.

"Is there an inn that I can stay at tonight?"

"Head straight through the gates and it'll be the first door on your right."

"Ah.. Thank you," he said opening the large doors.

"Walk with our Lord."

Wrothken was surprised by the appearance of the city. It gave off a feeling of such depression, though he wondered if it was because of how late it was. He was pleased to see that the inn, Sickly Bernice's Taphouse, was just where the Mazken said it was.

It was large and would've been borderline fancy, if not for the dust bunnies and cobwebs in the corners. The entryway was dimly lit, with more light coming from downstairs. He heard a woman cough and the clinking of glasses, so he knew someone was down there.

He followed the sounds and saw a middle aged woman behind the bar. She wore a deep violet corset with long sleeves with black fringes on the cuffs. The hooped skirt was layered with the black fringes as well. The poor woman looked miserable and she kept coughing. Her face was etched with lines, though none indicated smiles. Her face told a story of constant worry.

Seated at the bar was a woman who made Wrothken's heart skip a beat. She had jet-black hair that cascaded down to her wide hips. Her skin was a smooth caramel color. Her outfit was much simpler than the proprietor's; a tight band across her chest, as if she was trying to flatten herself, and a pair of dingy brown pants. When Wrothken entered, she turned for a moment and he noticed her bright green eyes. He couldn't stop staring at her. It was as if Awour stepped into a mirror only to come out looking like her opposite.

Wrothken glanced at her repeatedly as he approached the bar. When he sat down, the older woman cautioned, "Don't get too close now, dearie. You might catch what I have."

"Oh," he said, scooting back a little. "Are you sick?"

The girl next to him chuckled a little and his face went red.

"Be nice now, Kalila," Bernice said. "The boy's new here, so he doesn't know yet." She turned to Wrothken and said, "Well...it seems I am dying. Yes, these may be my last days in the Shivering Isles. That is unless someone like yourself could help me find the cure. But no one has taken me upon my offer, even with the promise of a reward. Ah, well it's been a good life I suppose..."

He knew what she was getting at. She seemed like a sweet old lady, but he was so tired. He didn't think he could stay awake long enough to even remember any directions given to him. "Can I have a room please?"

"Oh..." She sounded disappointed. "Alright then. There's one upstairs, first on the right for ten gold."

He handed her the gold. "Thank you. Maybe you can tell me about the cure in the morning?"

"Oh, sure, sonny. That is, if I make it..."

Wrothken felt bad, but he knew it would be better hearing it when he was fully awake. He took a final glance at Kalila and headed upstairs.



Right when he woke up, Wrothken headed back downstairs to talk to Bernice. It was more crowded than it was the previous night and it smelled of strange flavors. He was surprised to be disappointed that Kalila was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning, dearie," Bernice said as soon as he sat down. "Fancy a quick meal?"

He looked at the other plates, but didn't recognize anything. "Um..."

"Oh, silly me. I forgot that you're our newcomer." She coughed violently. "Excuse me. Now, how about I get you some grummite eggs with some toast? Though I really shouldn't cook it. I might pass my sickness on to you..."

"Wait, Bernice about that. Can you tell me about the cure? I'd be willing to help."

"There's only one place in all the Isles to get the cure for what I have... Knotty Bramble. There, on the lowest level of the place, is a pool containing the cure: aquanostrum. Legend has it that it bubbles up from an old statue."

"Is that a store around here?"

She started to laugh and cough at the same time. "Oh, no, dearie. Here, do you have a map?"

He nodded and pulled it out. "It's right about here," she said, drawing an "X" near the road coming from Passwall. "Apparently it only exists at the bottom of Knotty Bramble...ah well. So close, yet so far."

Wrothken looked at the marker and nodded. "It's really not that far out. I'll go out there soon."

For the first time, he saw her face light up. "Oh, thank you so much!" She sounded like she wanted to hug him. Handing him a silver flask, she said, "Now, how about I fix you up your breakfast. You'll need it if you're going to be heading out to Knotty Bramble. Oh, and dearie?"

"Yes?"

She leaned in slightly. "Be careful."

Wrothken stiffened. "Are there creatures down there?"

She laughed. "Oh, come now. You defeated the Gatekeeper, didn't you? A few grummites shouldn't be a problem for a strapping young man like yourself!" She lowered her voice a little. "I saw you looking at Kalila last night. Don't give me that look; I'm sick, not blind. There's something strange about that one... Just promise an old woman you'll be careful."

Wrothken looked around, noting everyone here was a bit strange, though he figured they must have each thought themselves normal. "Alright, I promise," he said.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:07 AM

[SubRosa]

Nice piece. I enjoyed the meeting with the Mazken (I love them, I guess my avatar kind of gives that away), and Bernice has always been one of my favorite characters (although Cutter is still my #1 - When you hack into the warm flesh and feel the blood splash, think of me...).


There's something strange about that one.
Its the Shivering Isles, there is something strange about everyone!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 2 2010, 12:50 AM

[mALX]

OOOH! You are an artist as well as a writer!

[Jacki Dice]

SubRosa- I like them too, much much more than I like the Golden Saints. Those, I'd like like to punch sometimes >.>

mAXL1- -shy turtle- Yeah.... I think this is the first picture I ever sat and did for more than ten minutes. Wrothken is next, but he might take a bit longer since I have a lot of trouble drawing men.

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Madness Incarnate

The palace of New Sheoth was glamorous compared to Crucible. The castle and walls were made from gray stone. The right side was lit with blue flames and more Mazken walked around. On the left, gold dominated the area, with bright flame and gold skinned women wearing gold armor.

The area was silent and serene, though Wrothken sensed hostility. He watched the women carefully, noticing the hate in their eyes any time they looked at each other.

"Mortal!"

He jumped, seeing a golden woman walk up to him. She was nothing like the Mazken he spoke to before. She seemed to look down upon him. "What business do you have here?"

"Sheogorath--"

"Lord Sheogorath to you, Mortal."

"Okay... Lord Sheogorath wanted to see me."

She huffed. "Are you the one who slew the Gatekeeper?"

He nodded.

"Very well. He is in the center doors of the palace. Now go."

Wrothken stared at her as she walked away. Who lit the fuse on her... Oh forget it, he thought walking down the path to the doors. There were two of them with a woman from each group standing guard. The Mazken smiled at him as he approached, and the other one glared. He walked to the Mazken.

"Don't let theml get to you. Their attitudes are most disgraceful to our Lord Sheogorath." She sneered at a passing gold woman. "The so-called Golden Saints. One day, Lord Sheogorath will finally recognize their bull-headed stupidity and expel them from the Realm."

He nodded and entered the castle.

Just like outside, the interior was divided. The right side had yellow flames and the carpet was bright red. The left, was lit by blue fire and had black carpet. The carpets went right up into the throne where a man sat. "Well, look who's here! You! How about that?" he cried. Wrothken recognized his voice from the door in Cyrodiil.

He was clapping as Wrothken approached. He appeared to be a wise man, with gray hair neatly slicked back, a distinguished beard, and a few wrinkles. However, one look in his amber eyes told him he was exactly the opposite.

"A new arrival!" He shouted, clapping him on the back. "A shame about my Gatekeeper. I'm so happy, I could just tear out your intestines and strangle you with them."

Wrothken felt a chill inside and he wanted to take a step back, but Sheogorath had his arm firmly around him.

"I suppose an introduction is in order. I'm Sheogorath, Prince of Madness! And other things. I'm not talking about them." He said, folding his arms. "You've probably figured that out by now. Let's hope so. Or we're in real trouble... and out come the intestines. And I skip rope with them! But, perhaps now's not the time. You've made it this far. Farther than anyone else. Well done! Take this trinket of mine. Perhaps it will serve you well. Or look lovely on your corpse." He handed Wrothken a copper amulet. It felt warm and when Wrothken put it on, he felt a light tingling sensation around his skin.

Sheogorath didn't wait for Wrothken to say anything before continuing. "I've been waiting for you, or someone like you, or someone other than you, for some time. I need a champion, and you've got the job," he said, poking Wrothken in the chest. "Time to save the Realm! Rescue the damsel! Slay the beast! Or die trying. Your help is required. A change is coming. Everything changes. Even Daedric Princes. Especially Daedric Princes."

"Change?" He asked. "What kind of change?"

"Daedra are the embodiment of change. Change and permanency. I'm no different, except in the ways that I am. The Greymarch is coming. And you're going to stop it."

"The what?"

"The details aren't important. At least not right now. Eternity is on a rather tight deadline. We'll get back to that later."

Wrothken's head was spinning. To say this man was off-balance was an understatement. He wanted something stopped, yet the details weren't important? He didn't press because he wasn't sure what would happen, what with talk of skipping rope with intestines.

"Okay, so what should I do now?" Wrothken asked.

"Now? You run an errand for me. An important one. Of course, anything I tell you to do is important. My Realm, my rules. You're going to Xedilian, one of my favorite spots in the Isles. It's a little place I use to take care of unwanted visitors. And some are more unwanted than others."

Wrothken wasn't sure if he had been one of those "unwanted visitors," but if it would keep his innards in place, he was willing to do anything.

"What's in Xedilian?"

"The Gatekeeper took care of most of the unwanted, but he's dead. We'll have to remedy that soon, as well...." He cleared his throat. "Anyway... there are those that have other ways into my Realm, and they're on the move. We don't want them here. Trust me. So, you're going to get Xedilian up and running. Here's a little book to tell you how, and the Attenuator of Judgment. You'll need that, too." He handed Wrothken what appeared to be a tuning fork and a book. "Of course, you can always get more details from Haskill. He's a detail-oriented type of person. A big help. And a snappy dresser. Now, get going. Before I change my mind. Or my mind changes me."

Wrothken looked at Haskill. There was no way he was going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was confused.

He opened the book and headed back to Crucible.



The book caught Wrothken's full attention. Not only did it explain what exactly to do, it showed a few sides to Sheogorath. The writer seemed almost fearful of any consequences he might pay for the slightest mistake. Just as he was about to turn the page, he collided with someone, knocking her to the ground.

He gasped, seeing Kalila glaring up at him. She was dressed the same way as before, only her pants were rolled up, exposing her toned legs. "Oh.. I'm so sorry! Here," he said, holding his hand out.

She ignored it, and got up on her own. Her eyes were like daggers, saying everything her mouth wasn't. She turned and headed away from him. It took awhile to realize that he was staring after her. He regained control of himself and shook his head violently. Maybe it was her stark contrast to Awour that was attracting him to her, but he promised Bernice that he would be careful... though there was no harm in looking, right?

He sat down outside a shop and pulled out his map. Xedilian was a ways away, located southeast of Passwall. He was happy to see that Knotty Bramble was on the way. As he folded up his map, he heard someone call to him.

"Hey you!"

He looked over at a blond man hiding around the building's corner. "Come over here. I need to talk to you."

Wrothken looked around and walked up to him. "Yes?"

"I've got a proposition for you. Best not to talk about it here. Meet me at the sewer grate northeast of the Sheogorath statue. Come after dark. Come alone." He then walked away.

Wrothken stared after him. What was the proposition? And why did he want it alone and night? Well, there was the obvious... But he didn't think it was that. The man looked and sounded miserable. He shrugged. There was no time to think about it now. He had a few important errands to run.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:09 AM

[SubRosa]

The palace of New Sheoth was glamorous compared to Crucible.
Some people would say that Bravil is glamorous compared to Crucible!

I like how you portrayed the arrogance of the Aureals, and highlighted the conflict between them and the Mazken.

I always liked this line:
"The details aren't important. At least not right now. Eternity is on a rather tight deadline. We'll get back to that later."

This is an excellent sentence, simple and direct, yet incredibly eloquent:
Her eyes were like daggers, saying everything her mouth wasn't.


nits:
"Are you the one who slayed the Gatekeeper?"
slew would read more smoothly here. It is dialogue though, so if that is how she would talk, then keep it.

[Winter Wolf]

It is easy to see why the DLC received such a great response from the public. The landscape was huge and felt very different to Cyrodiil. It is awesome to see that you have captured it so well. Great write.

I lost track of the number of brilliant Sheogorath quotes here that you wrote!! Fantastic.

Take this trinket of mine. Perhaps it will serve you well. Or look lovely on your corpse.
I have always loved this quote. One of his best.

This post has been edited by Winter Wolf: Apr 3 2010, 06:48 AM

[mALX]

It is easy to see why the DLC received such a great response from the public. The landscape was huge and felt very different to Cyrodiil. It is awesome to see that you have captured it so well. Great write.

I lost track of the number of brilliant Sheogorath quotes here that you wrote!! Fantastic.

Take this trinket of mine. Perhaps it will serve you well. Or look lovely on your corpse.
I have always loved this quote. One of his best.

I second this!!

[Olen]

though there was no harm in looking, right? - Rather similar to the thought which got him intothe Isles... Nicely done, shows a side to him which makes him ideal for the setting, if only because anything in the Isles might be harmful.

Well, there was the obvious... But he didn't think it was that -- this line made me laugh. I like the humor you spread through the piece next to the story, it makes it great to read and fits well with the setting.

Nice piece.

This post has been edited by Olen: Apr 4 2010, 03:21 PM

[Jacki Dice]

Thanks everyone

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Cures and Crystals

As Wrothken walked the dreary path toward Knotty Bramble, he finally had time to think. Sheogorath chose him as his champion. How he would love to go home and shove that in people's faces. Champion of a Daedric Prince. A completely insane one at that! That had to come with perks and boy, would Awour be sorry then!

He imagined strolling down the walk in Kvatch dressed in fine clothes, Kalila on his arm-- He blushed, thankful no one was around to see it. What could it be about her that drew him in? Sure, there was the parallel to Awour, but was there anything else? He often heard girls telling each other that the best way to get over a guy was to get under another one. Could that be true for him as well? He smiled, knowing that he wouldn't mind one bit finding that out.

He looked down at his map and saw that he was close to Knotty Bramble. He looked to his left and saw nothing. He walked over a hill and was just about to leave when he caught sight of a round spot attached underneath the tangled roots of a tree. The circle was covered in shiny bumps and couldn't be a natural part of it. It had to be the entrance to Knotty Bramble. Remembering Bernice mention something called grummites, he took out his mace and raised his shield, and he went in.

The interior was among the strangest places he'd ever been to. Inside the tree, other plants flourished, as if the tree were merely a host. Everywhere he turned, he ran into giant mushrooms, or glowing orbs as big as his head. He came to a fork in the tunnel, but one was blocked off by roots. He tried hammering his way through, but they were too strong. He had no choice but to go the other way.

As he headed into the depths of the tunnels, he came across one of the goblin-fish creatures. Those must be the grummites. It was walking toward him, when their eyes met. The grummite ran up to him, wasting no time as it began to hack at the air between them. Wrothken watched it and when its arm was down, he gripped the mace tightly and slammed its arm and then hit its head.

Two more waited for him further down. The moment they saw him coming, they rushed him, slashing him so fast, he could barely get any hits in. They're fast little bastards, he thought. He kicked one of them hard and focused more on the one still in front of him. As it became worn down, the other came back, but it was easier to deal with a quick one and a weakened one than it was to deal with two of them at their prime.

He wandered around until he came across another door similar to the one leading outside. Once he opened it, he heard the sound of water.

His heart rose as he followed the sound. He was on a higher level with the pool directly below him. For a second, he considered just jumping in, but he decided against it due to his armor and not knowing how deep or shallow it was.

A few grummites took notice of him and after beating them, he took out the flask and he made sure to fill it to the top. He closed it tightly and put it away. "That was simple enough," he said, walking back to the exit. Then he noticed several egg sacks floating in the water. He frowned, realizing that the grummites were probably just protecting their eggs. He felt slightly bad, but he knew he couldn't beat himself up over it. If he didn't defend himself, the grummites would have killed him without any remorse at all.



Daylight greeted him as he stepped back outside. He wondered for a moment if he should run back to Crucible and give Bernice her cure, but he decided against it. He didn't want to risk Sheogorath's anger by taking too long.

As usual, while he was walking, unbidden thoughts crept into his mind. He wondered if Awour noticed he was gone? She must have, he thought. You don't go from seeing someone daily to not seeing them at all and not wondering about it. He also wondered if Awour did anything to set Kirsty off.

Wrothken remembered when he told Kirsty what happened. He had been crying so hard that his words were incoherent so he had to repeat himself several times, which just made him cry more. Kirsty was furious. Someone once told him that girls with red hair have the worst temper. Whoever said that obviously never met Kirsty. Either that or they made her so angry that they never had the chance to tell the tale. The short brunette was livid and Wrothken only stopped crying because he didn't have the strength to bawl and hold her in her chair. He begged her not to do anything but she wouldn't promise. She said she couldn't and then started to rant about how girls like Awour were the reason she can't stand to be around other women. She swore up and down that if Awour said one word or even glanced at her the wrong way, she was going to beat her into the next era.

It wouldn't have been so bad if she had just been honest instead of sneaking around. He didn't even know how long it had been going on. Part of him wanted to go back and ask, but he was afraid of the answer. He didn't want to hear that it went on for months or with multiple people. He didn't want to worry that it was his fault or that he just wasn't good enough. He had been far too scared to find out the truth, even though hated asking himself why or what he did to cause it.

He shook his head, remembering that he banished her from his mind. Besides, there was plenty of other fish in the sea. Of course, the first image to pop in his mind was Kalila. He could tell she didn't like him, but what he would give to spend some time with her and get her to give him a chance. He grinned. Maybe it was the fact that Bernice had warned him about her. It gave her the "forbidden fruit" appeal. If he could get Kalila to go to Kvatch with him and rent a room somewhere.... Oh, that would get Awour's panties in such a twist! She was jealous enough over Kirsty, but if he was openly with someone else? It gave him momentary happiness, but then his heart sank as he realized that she probably wouldn't care. After all, she was the one who left him, not the other way around. Even still... he thought. He knew he wanted to get close to Kalila, if not to make Awour jealous, then to at least keep his mind occupied.



The bridge leading into Xedilian was guarded by a grummite. Wrothken was taken by surprise; he had been expecting adventurers, if anyone, to be there instead. After taking care of it, he proceeded inside.

It was nearly black inside. Wrothken was faced with the choice of stumbling blindly or using his shield. He set his shield down by the door and hoped he wouldn't need it. Taking out a torch, he walked up to the door. He tried pushing it open, but it wouldn't budge. It was metal, not wood, so he couldn't break it down. "What in Oblivion...?" he muttered, feeling the door for a knob. Eventually he came across a brick with a red face sticking out slightly. He pressed it and the door opened up right away. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for more of those.

The old fort looked like something he would have seen in Cyrodiil. Old tapestries hung on the walls. They looked like they were once fiery red, they were now covered in mold and dust. At one point, a gold crest decorated the bottom of each tapestry, but he could only see the faint tracings. Every corner was home to a large, smelly mounds that Wrothken tried his best to avoid, as he didn't want to imagine what it was for.

It wasn't long until he came to a room with three grummites inhabiting it. Two of them wielded daggers and the other simply disappeared before Wrothken's eyes. He was so surprised, that he didn't react in time to the two quick ones. They nearly backed him into a wall with their attacks. He tried focusing on one at a time, but it was harder than he thought, as they kept bouncing up as they hacked at him. He finally finished them off and looked around for any sign of the invisible one. He got his hint as soon as he was struck with lightning. His body tingled painfully as he caught sight of the last grummite. It held a long spear with a crystal at the end of it. A focus crystal, he thought. He ran over to it, not even caring about the mound of filth it stood on, and he took it out with a blow to the head.

He picked up the crystal and looked around, trying to find where it belonged. He found it in the next room, where a round altar sat with a faint glow at the top. He placed it on the glow and it floated there, making a soft humming sound.

One down, two to go.

He headed down the stairs were he saw three more grummites. They were facing a fire pit with three large totem poles in the center. They bowed and occasionally made movements as if they were having seizures. Wrothken tried looked beyond them to see if there was a way he could sneak around them, but it was too dark to tell. His only choice was to go in and look for himself.

Like he expected, the moment the grummites saw him, they rushed to attack. Two of them came at him with their daggers and the third remained behind as it readied its bow and arrows. This time, he was more prepared. He was able to get good hits on the first one, taking it down quicker. The other one required more time, and it was happy that the other grummite obviously couldn't see him, as the arrows flew feet away. Once he took care of the second one, he headed for the archer. It didn't even try to run away as he bludgeoned it to death.

As he walked, he started feeling a prickling in the back of his neck. It felt like something was behind him, but each time he turned, there was no one. It made him wonder if there was another invisible grummite silently stalking him, waiting for the perfect time to strike. He could almost see it every time he started walking.

"Oh, snap out of it!" He said. "Stupid place is making you paranoid."

He came to a split in the path. Two metal doors were on either side and a push block was directly in front of him. He looked at either one, wondering which it opened.

Only one way to find out...

He pressed the button. only to feel the floor vanish from beneath him. He landed hard on his back, crying out when he saw the body of a dead grummite.

He sat up, clutching his throbbing head. It took him a few moments to focus properly in order to fully heal himself.

There was no way to get back up to where he was, so he walked around, hoping for the best. He was half relieved when he found another trio of grummites, one wielding a crystal staff. He almost laughed when the staff user was in such a hurry to attack, it accidentally shocked one of the grummites to death. This time, Wrothken took out the staff user, just to ensure it didn't turn invisible on him. After that, he took care of the other one. Once again, he attached the focus crystal to another nearby altar. Just one more.

The halls led him to another room with a couple of grummites. He was starting to get used to them and found it a lot easier to dispatch them. Inside the room, there was a flight of stairs leading to no where, leading Wrothken to think that it might have been a throne room once. He was about to leave when a sparkle caught his eye from the top of the stairs. Curious, he went to check it out.

The sparkle came from a round topaz. His heart sank. He used to call Awour his precious topaz, due to her golden skin and hair. He chucked it across the room.

The next place he came to was a large door that opened normally. He wanted to be relieved that he was almost done but the topaz, and the memories associated with it, was bothering him. Instead, grummites relieved him, since he could easily take his anger out on them instead.

He bashed them in repeatedly until the halls were cleared. With the last crystal in place, let out a loud sigh of relief. All he had to do was tune the crystal and he could go and relax. After glancing down at his beat up armor, he added something else to his to-do list.

Walking down the hall, he heard the all too familiar croaks of grummites. Just as he thought, a group of three grummites guarded the resonator at the end of the room. He was so tired, but the thought of a hot bath at Bernice's gave him the drive to go forward and fight. The first two were dagger-users and the last was an archer. The two grummites hopped up in his face, repeatedly slashing at him. At that point, he stopped trying to focus on one at a time and just delivered the beatings to whoever was closest. The archer remained where it was, pelting him with arrows. He wished he had the shield with him, but there was no use in that. Wishing it wouldn't get it to him. Instead, he just had to dodge the arrows until he got to the grummite.

Just like the last archer, it didn't run or switch weapons. It took the beating until its death.

Wrothken took out the Attenuator of Judgment and hit the cluster of crystals once. Immediately, it began to hum loudly. The sound was so pleasant that Wrothken strongly considered taking a nap underneath it. He wanted to so badly, but since he was finished, he was ready to leave Xedilian.

To his right a door opened up, revealing a red glowing tile. He went to look at it, hoping it was an exit, but there was no door underneath it. He was going to head back, but the door shut behind him and wouldn't budge. He banged on it repeatedly until he remembered the red push block from when he first entered. All he had to do was push this one and he would be home free! Since it was on the floor, he assumed it would need a lot of weight to activate it. he stood on it and suddenly, he only saw bright red shimmers before him. Time to relax, he thought happily.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:14 AM

[SubRosa]

Wrothken's internal musings about The Banished One (Awour) really made this chapter shine for me. You really are doing an excellent job at making him a living, breathing person.

I love this:
Sheogorath chose him as his champion. How he would love to go home and shove that in people's faces. Champion of a Daedric Prince. A completely insane one at that! That had to come with perks and boy, would Awour be sorry then!

This is a great turn of phrase:
she was going to beat her into the next era.



nits:
but wast there anything else?
I think the Mad God played a little trick on you by slipping an extra "t" there.

She swore up and down that if Awour said one word or even glanced at her the wrong way
I think he stole the "d" in glanced as well.

He got his hint as soon as he was struck with lightening.
in this context, that should be lightning.

[mALX]

Knotty Bramble is one of my fave dungeons, especially looking for amber!

[Jacki Dice]

SubRosa- Thanks

mAXL1- I love looking for amber! The stumps are so sparkly

~~~~~♥~~~~~~

Decisions, decisions...

When he opened his eyes, he expected to see the beautiful sky and the path that would lead him to Crucible. His eyes widened and he looked around, halfway hoping that he did actually go to sleep beneath the resonator, and was just dreaming. Sadly, his aching body told him otherwise. Instead of being outside, he saw that he was still inside the fort, only there was a Dunmer with him.

He walked up to him with a wide smile and said, "Finally, Lord Sheogorath has sent someone to assist me! But where are my manners?" He cleared his throat, muttering, "Must get into my professional tone..." He cleared his throat once more and spoke in a deeper, more even voice. "Welcome to Xedilian, I'm the dungeon caretaker, Kiliban Nyrandil."

Wrothken sighed deeply. "Why am I still in here?"

"Xedilian would normally have sent you back to the entrance when you stepped on the pad in the Resonator Chamber. Since you're up here, I can only surmise that adventurers are already entering the dungeon as we speak." Kiliban seemed almost pleased.

"That's nice, but that doesn't really explain why I'm still here."

"I'm afraid until the adventurers are dealt with, Xedilian will keep you here. Even I can't will its doors to open. To put it bluntly, you're stuck here for the moment. No disrespect intended."

He sighed. His bath would have to wait. "Alright. How do I deal with them? Should I just go out there and tell them to shoo?"

Kiliban laughed. "Oh, heavens no! The adventurers must go through a cycle. All you need to do is decide what becomes of them. Will you drive them insane or will you pull the life from their bodies?"

"What?"

"Here," Kiliban held his arm and led him to a transportation tile. They arrived in another area overlooking a large room with a small tree-creature. "Now, these adventurers seek a place to live here in the Isles. Since that horrid Gatekeeper isn't around anymore, it's become easy for just anyone to stroll in and set up shop. As you know, Lord Sheogorath only welcomes those He sees fit for residency. Now, it's up to you to decide whether or not they're worthy." He patted him on the shoulder. "I bet you're just tickled pink! Now, about the buttons. When you push the appropriate button, an event will unfold for the adventurers to experience. One is physically harmful... usually lethal traps or creatures... something relished by the residents of Dementia. The other choice is more mental. They are designed to make the adventurers lose their grip on reality, much like the residents of Mania."

"I see..." Wrothken stared at the tiny creature. He wanted to know just how something so small could cause insanity.

"Oh, look! Here they come!" Kiliban said.

A group of three men entered. The first was an Orc in a suit of Orcish armor. He carried a large claymore on his back. The second to enter was an Dunmer wearing aqua robes, and the last was a brown-haired man. Wrothken couldn't tell what race he was.

"...now keep your weapons ready and watch your backs. Do what I say, and we might just get outta here alive." The Orc said to the other two.

They stopped and stared at the small creature. The Orc began to laugh.

"Awwww.... ain't it cute! What in Oblivion is that thing?" He continued laughing.

"This is one of the 'horrid guardians' of which the stories spoke?" The third man asked.

"Be careful," the Dunmer warned. "There may be more to this creature than meets the eye."

Kiliban nudged Wrothken. "Press a button," he whispered.

Wrothken looked at both of them. One was smiling and one was frowning. Self-defense was one thing, but he couldn't bring himself to decide to kill them just for fun. He pressed the smiling button.

"What a joke," the Orc said, walking past it. "Let's be rid of this thing and continue on our way."

Wrothken heard a faint hiss, but he didn't think they could hear it. The other men did double takes at the small creature.

"Are my eyes playing tricks, or is the creature growing?"

It didn't look any bigger to Wrothken. He looked at Kiliban, who was smiling widely. "The button you pressed released hallucinogenic spore gas into the chamber. It's tricking them into believing the creature means to kill them. Don't worry, its bark is far worse than its bite." He chuckled at his little joke.

Wrothken looked back at the chamber where the men were scrambling, desperately trying to get away from the creature. The hissing soon stopped. The adventurers calmed down and the creature crawled into a corner.

The Dunmer panted hard. "All this time it was merely an illusion," he said wiping sweat from his brow. "How clever."

The Orc turned around and walked slowly toward the other man. "Wait... what's wrong with Lewin?"

Lewin was on the ground, huddled in the fetal position. He stared after the creature. "...ma-makes no sense...should be d-dead...what...who..."

The Dunmer frowned. He walked over to the Orc, placing his hand on his shoulder. "I think this place got to him... perhaps we should leave."

The Orc shook his head. "We'll pick him up on the way out. He'll have to fend for himself."

The remaining men entered another room, leaving Lewin behind.

"Watching them run from the Giant Gnarl gets me every time," Kiliban said happily. "Another chamber, another victim to eliminate. Hurry, the anticipation is overwhelming!" He led Wrothken to the next platform.



The first thing Wrothken saw was a pile of gold and jewels the size of Kirsty's bakery. Instantly, he made a mental list of all the things he could buy with such a large amount. The only problem was that it was locked up in a large cage. When the Orc and Dunmer entered the room, Wrothken knew they were thinking the same thing.

"Look!" The Orc pointed. "I told you! Treasure! Let's have at it, Syndelius."

They ran up the flight of stairs leading to it. The Orc grabbed hold of the bars and shook them hard. "Blast! The cage is locked. If only Lewin were here... he could get us through this in no time."

Syndelius reached through the bars, but he quickly pulled back, hissing in pain. "It's hot! Do you think you can pry the door open?"

The Orc descended the stairs. "Forget it! This is obviously a trick! Let's get out of here."

Wrothken looked at Kiliban, who nodded his head. He pushed the smiling button.

"To be so close, and yet so far. If only we had the key! Wait.. do you hear something?"

A vague jingling sound started to grow louder and louder until hundreds, maybe thousands, of keys spilled to the floor.

Syndelius whooped loudly. "Look! Keys! One of them must open the gate! We're rich!"

The Orc flooded his arms. "Let's get out of here, Syndelius. This is obviously a trick to waste our time!"

"I'll know it when I see it! Yes... it must be here!"

The Orc grabbed his arm. "They're all fake! Just come with me now!"

Powered by his lust for gold, he wrenched free and dug through the keys. "...find it... yes... I must find the key... rich beyond all my dreams..." He laughed under his breath.

"Bah! Suit yourself!" The Orc shot him a dirty look and walked off.

"Must find the key! Must find the key!" Syndelius sung.

Kiliban chuckled. "Too bad none of those keys fit the lock... hahahaha! Last chamber... this should be entertaining."



After getting on the pad, Wrothken was transported to a room that looked like it had been taken from nightmares. The floors and parts of the wall was stained with blood. Rotting corpses were hanging from their neck or attached to the walls. Some were scattered across the floor. Wrothken had to fight to keep his breakfast down.

The Orc walked down the stairs, obviously a little disturbed. "Steady, Grommok... steady," he said to himself. "You've been through worse before. What more could this place possibly throw at you?"

Wrothken was afraid of what it would do, but he pressed the smiling button. Purple light flashed and Grommok fell to the ground. His spirit stepped out of his body, looking at it in horror.

"What!? How in Oblivion can I be dead? This is impossible! Nothing killed me!" He cried out a little, looking around the room. "I didn't even get a chance to fight! No chance to defend myself? No chance for battle? Why? Impossible! This is impossible... Grommok has never lost a fight! Never!" He knelt down, clasping his head. "No! This is all wrong! This isn't how it's supposed to be!"

The light flashed again and Gromok was back in his body. He didn't seem to notice at all. He kept mumbling to himself.

Kiliban patted Wrothken on the back. "You've made short work of the intruders. Sheogorath should be proud to have such an efficient apprentice." He led him to the last pad.



They arrived in another room that was near the entrance. Kiliban stood in front of a large chest. "As is the tradition, you are to be awarded a focus crystal as a token of your fine work. I'll have it sent to the palace and placed in the main hall, if you wish to take a look at it."

"Alright... and you mentioned some earnings?"

"Oh, yes... of course. It seems a most unusual weapon was recovered from the Orc warrior, Grommok. Never seen anything like it, but perhaps his journal can give you some useful information. Beyond that, take whatever else you need from the recovery chest... you've earned it!"

Wrothken opened the chest, hoping the unusual weapon would be a battle axe or a hammer. He was disappointed to see a large claymore with a violet gem on the guard. He held it up, admiring its beauty. It was a lovely weapon and since he had no use for it, at least he could sell it for a decent price. Among the other treasures, he found an amulet, fifty gold, some lock picks, and a strange black cube with swirling blue patterns all over it.

"You're free to go at any time of course, just up that hallway," Kiliban said shaking his hand. "Good luck to you!"

Wrothken nodded and was relieved to be able to go home. As he walked down the hall, he heard a harsh, metallic scraping. Before his eyes, a large crystal rose from the ground. He found it strange, but he kept going. Within seconds three strange beings ran at him. It looked as if their armor and weapons were made from the crystal. They didn't utter a sound as they descended on Wrothken, attacking with long lances. Kiliban must have heard the commotion as well. He gasped when he saw them and began flinging spells at the men. Once they were down, Kiliban rushed to check on him.

"That was quite a battle. I hope you are uninjured."

Wrothken looked at his armor. It was dented and cracked badly. "I'm fine, I guess. Who were those people?"

"You've not heard the legends? How could that be?" Kiliban looked at the men in disgust. "Those "people" as you call them aren't people at all. They are the soulless abominations known as the Knights of Order," he spat.

"Knights of Order?" Wrothken tilted his head.

Kiliban didn't answer. Instead, he pushed him toward the door. "You must proceed to Sheogorath at once and tell him the Knights have returned! Quickly now... go!"

He pushed Wrothken out and slammed the door shut. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. These Knights of Order must mean very bad news.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:16 AM

[mALX]

Very bad news but very big treasure! - I hated having to make the decisions on those adventurers, that pushed me a place I didn't want to go...but I did it anyway, lol. Great Write!!

[SubRosa]

This was part I really liked in the SI main quest. Mainly because I was playing Saya, and she is quite the viscous sort. I drove most of them mad as well. It seems fitting, considering the SI and all. I will be interested to see how Wrothken deals with doing it.

Ahh, Dawnfang/Duskfang, one of the neatest weapons in the game.



nits:

They didn't utter a sound as the descended on Wrothken
Looks like Sheo stole the y in they here.