Champion of Madness, ~A Shivering Isles story Options

[Jacki Dice]

haute ecole rider- I prefer the Dark Seducers sooooooo much more than the Golden Saints. Way too stuck up for me.

Sub Rosa- Then you're in for quite a treat during these next few chapters!

Remko- I LOVE Cradle of Filth. They are so romantic. My favorite off Dusk and Her Embrace (other than the title song) is A Gothic Romance ♥

mAXL1- He is so much fun to work with

Acaidian- I'm happy to see you I'm sure you'll enjoy some of my later plans for her

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Greenmote, Skooma of the Isles

Wrothken decided to make the trip to Dunroot Burrow. After all, Sheogorath made it pretty clear that he was to do what the duke asked him, under threat of intestine removal. He would just have to find a way to get through it minus addiction.

He walked down the steps to the door leading to Bliss. He expected it to look like Crucible, but he was completely surprised.

Bliss reminded him of Kvatch, only without street vendors or an arena. The streets were clean, the buildings were in good shape. Everything looked positively normal.

"Sa-weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet rollllllllllll!"

Wrothken was jarred by the call coming from an old Bosmer man.

"Fimmion hungry!" He said, holding his hands out. "Fimmion wants sweet roll!"

Wrothken sighed. What was he thinking? He'd find normality around the Shivering Isles when Kirsty joined the Thieves Guild. "Sorry, I don't have a sweet roll."

Fimmion sighed. "Fimmion saaaad....."

Wrothken walked around Bliss, squirming inside every time a Golden Saint glared at him. Something about their accusing eyes made him worry if he actually did something wrong. With each stare, he would quickly lower his eyes to the ground, as if to disappear from their view.

He sat in front of a tavern in order to think of his predicament with Thadon. There was no other option than to get the Chalice of Reversal in Dunroot Burrow, where he was supposed to get addicted to a drug. He buried his face in his hands. There had to be another way. There just had to. He refused to become an addict.

He looked around and to his surprise, he saw a sign for a bookstore. People actually read here? He thought. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't imagine anyone he'd met sitting by the fire with a good book. Even still, there was a small chance that there would be something relating to the Chalice in one of those books. Without hesitation, he ran inside.

The bookstore itself looked relatively normal, though Wrothken suspected something was up. He looked around for the owner, though when he saw her his heart dropped to his stomach.

She was an Altmer, slimmer than Awour, but blond as well. Her eyes were light hazel, with a green hue. She swished her hips as she walked, licking her full lips. She leaned forward, her chest threatening to fall out of her almost obscenely low cut gown.

"Hmmm... how do you do?" She said, looking him over. "I'd say, very well from the looks of things. I'm Sontaire, spend one night with me and I'll remind you why they say 'love hurts.'"

His jaw nearly hit the floor. She was direct at least, and even though he liked that in a woman, there was no way he would be able to look at her without thinking of Awour. "I.... No, thank you, though, but..." He shook his head. "Do you have anything on the Chalice of Reversal?"

She pouted at his rejection. "A book? Is that what you came here for?"

Wrothken felt like slapping himself. Of course it wouldn't be an ordinary bookstore. No, that was way too much to ask for.

A devilish smile returned to her face. "Honey, I don't know if you've heard, but men don't come down here to read. No, they come for much better things." She stepped closer, peering down his armor. "Oh, my. I love me a big, hairy beast of a man," she said, pressing her body against him.

Wrothken nearly jumped out of his skin. She sure was persistent. "Sorry, but... um..." He tried to think of something other than "you remind me too much of the girl who broke my heart then stomped on it." He backed away, placing his hand on the knob. "You know what? I have a... a thing. So why don't I just go?"

"Go if you want, but I know men. You'll be thinking of me later tonight when you're alone. Just remember where my shop is. I'll give you a night to remember, okay sex doll?"

He laughed nervously. "Yeah, sure," he said, quickly dashing out the door. With no other ideas, he opened the gate leading out of the city to Dunroot Burrow.



The terrain leading to Dunroot Burrow was the complete opposite of the area that led to the Fringe. Where the Demented path was dreary and almost always cloudy, the Manic path was covered in bold colors and bright sunshine. Rich colored flowers and plants ruled the area. He wrinkled his nose at it. At the moment, he preferred the depressing scenery of Dementia.

For once, Awour wasn't the one haunting his mind, at least not directly. Instead, the requirements of Thadon's request brought to mind the last time he spoke to his mother.

She hated Awour almost from the moment she met her. At the time, Wrothken was very defensive, thinking that his mother just wasn't ready to cut the apron strings. After several months of constant arguments that usually left at least one of them in tears, Wrothken left with Awour to Kvatch. The last words his mother had said to him was, "You're going to be just like your father."

Those words stung more than any physical blow ever did. He was told that his father was a dealer in skooma and moonsugar. His deals and association with bandits are why his mother had to take him and his sister from Skyrim to Bruma. His father stayed for awhile, until he chose the drug to his own family.

Though he never spoke of it, Wrothken hated the man for his choice. He spent his whole life trying to make up for the lack of a male in his home. He was the one who went out and hunted their food with the other men in Bruma. He even prepared and cooked it. He did his best, but when he was faced with the choice of being a little boy forever, or so he had thought, or beginning his own family, he felt it was time for him to move on.

He had originally longed to return home, but he couldn't bear the "I told you so" he was sure he'd receive. Instead, when he returned home, it would be with his head high.

"You're going to be just like your father." The words rang in his mind once more. If he did develop an addiction to felldew, would she be right? After all, his father's addiction had nothing to do with Sheogorath...right? No, of course not, he thought. That would be silly.



When he arrived at Dunroot Burrow, a large ant-like creature was standing by the entrance. He wasn't sure what to do until it rushed over him, green gel bubbling around its mouth. The rest of its body had an unnatrual looking green glow around it.

It let out a shrill noise, crawling over to him quickly in a way that plainly said it was not friendly. Wrothken took out his mace, and swung it, hitting its side. Its tough exoskeleton remained intact and it grabbed Wrothken's arm with its pincer. If he didn't have his gauntlets on, his arm would have been crushed.

He reached over, grabbing the mace with his left hand. It felt wobbly, but he gripped it the best he could, hitting it weakly. The insect gripped tighter, trying to pull him in closer to its mouth. It wasn't fazed by Wrothken's shaky blows. He tried to pull back, but to no avail. He needed to figure a way to beat it. He wasn't good left handed, but what else was there?

His heart froze with fear when he figured out a way. He focused on the cold feeling in his chest, allowing it to blossom into his hand. A frost ball exploded into the insect's face, shocking it into letting go. Wrothken held the mace in his right hand and swung it at its head. The insect raised its pincers and he bashed them out of the way, making room to get to its head. Finally it went down.

Wrothken panted, putting his mace away. The insect's mouth bubbled with green ooze. Wrothken stared at it, and the unnatural green glow around its body. Could that be the felldew? He decided to ask Haskill. There was no way he was putting that stuff in his mouth without being absolutely sure about what it was.

"Yes, is there something you need," Haskill asked impatiently.

Wrothken pointed to the insect. "What is this?"

Haskill sighed. "This is an elytra. They are found in high concentrations in root tunnel systems and near caves, but inhabit almost the entire Isles. They can block weapon attacks and walk on water. Their spells can be potentially damaging if you meet one unexpectedly."

"Yeah..." Wrothken said. "And this green stuff?"

"That is felldew, a highly addictive drug. I wouldn't recommend it. It may be a little much for you to handle."

Wrothken rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh, well that's all I needed."

"My work is never done..." Haskill muttered as he vanished.

Wrothken removed his gauntlet and scooped a handful of felldew. His sniffed it first, shuddering at the foul smell. He was tempted to fling it off his hand and wipe the rest on the ground, but he knew it was necessary. Crinkling his nose in disgust, he stuffed some in his mouth.

"Mmmm..." He said. It wasn't the taste. That was horrible. It was the feeling that he enjoyed. He felt relaxed, calm... happy even. He licked his hand clean of the remaining felldew. He felt a pleasant tingle all over his body. "This isn't half bad."

He approached the door to Dunroot Burrow. He couldn't think of why he was so worried in the first place. He felt great, better than he had in a long time. As he entered, he considered grabbing as much as he could, just so he could remain in such a great mood.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:36 AM

[mALX]

ARGH! You stopped on a cliff hanger! I love what you did with the felldew tasting terrible, but he was licking his fingers - huge detail imagery there!!!!

[Olen]

Sontaire certainly seems a strange one. I've never played SI but from your description I might have to get it, it sounds most strange and entertaining... Certainly he was right about it not being just a bookshop.

And now he's on felldew. Any land which has narcotics bubbling out of dead insects is a strange one...

I love how bizzarre the isles are and how well you portray them

[haute ecole rider]

ARGH! You stopped on a cliff hanger! I love what you did with the felldew tasting terrible, but he was licking his fingers - huge detail imagery there!!!!

I have to agree with mALX. Though the image I had was of a dog licking Bitter Orange off his bandaged leg (Bitter Orange is a substance you spray on bandages, etc. to keep dogs from chewing them off. Only works half the time, the other half, it just makes the particular dog go for the bandage more).

I'm glad you feel the same way about the Golden Saints as I do. Stuck up, snobby beeyotches. However the men look better in Golden Saint armor than they do in the Dark Seducer one (brrgh!).

[SubRosa]

Good work with the background we learned about Wrothken's father. It ties in very nicely with his current quandry concerning the chalice and felldew.

He'd find normality around the Shivering Isles when Kirsty joined the Thieves Guild.
Funny he should think that after Kirsty employed a thief!

spend one night with me and I'll remind you why they say 'love hurts'.
Does she actually say that in the game? I have never played with a male character, she just threatens all my girls about stealing 'her' men.

[treydog]

First, I do not think I ever properly welcomed you to Chorrol.... So, welcome- we are so glad to have you and your wonderful story here. I have not played the SI expansion yet, so I will be seeing new things through your eyes.

The first paragraph draws me in immediately- conflict, enough description to tell me what I need to know, the character's name- and some of his personality.

"Oh, and she said something about them eating other people occasionally. That indeed was a dealbreaker. After all, Wrothken was a big, broad shouldered man; he could easily feed a family of four and then some. He also didn't know if Bosmer had a preference toward "white meat." "

There is a wicked and warped sense of humor at work there- and I should know.

Loved the description of using a (flare?) spell to light the torch.

Good fight scenes, which also give more insight into Wrothken's personality. Using the "clean up scene" at the Inn of Ill Omen to give a description of the "snuggly, fuzzy" Nord was also quite clever.

The rain of cheese and the "was that you doing the hokey-pokey" got a laugh out of me- at work.

"I don't believe in magic, but I do believe in bones." For some reason, I really like that statement. As a matter of fact, everything about Jayred is quite fun.

"With gusto, and probably some bone fondling, Jayred ripped out a large turquoise key." Snortle!

Will catch up- I hope later today. But for now, work summons me- rather like Sheogorath.

[Acadian]

This continues to be great fun to read! I loved summoning Haskill to ask about the feldew - brilliant. Like some of those once a day powers, I tend to forget about being able to summon him.

[D.Foxy]

Update, m'dear???

[Jacki Dice]

mAXL1- Thanks. I've noticed that certain things that are addicting or bad for your body but "fun" taste pretty bad...

Olen- Thank you, I actually almost did just the Oblivion MQ. I'm glad I decided to go to the Isles. It's been so much fun

haute ecole rider- Men in Dark Seducer armor look kinda silly to me... Then again with the females, I fail to see how that can be considered protective...

SubRosa- Yes she does, though of course nothing ever happens no matter how many times you visit

treydog- I'm always happy to hear from a new reader. I'm glad you're enjoying it♥

Acaidian- Oh I summoned him to death during my first play through. I hotkeyed him!

D. Foxy- Here it is!

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Drugs Are a Bet With Your Mind

Wrothken stood in front of the door to Dunroot Burrow. It still wouldn't budge when he tried pulling the hole open. He tried hitting it with his mace, but it got caught in the hole. He stopped and stared at it for a moment and a chuckle escaped his lips. He wiggled the mace around a little and laughed more. He pulled it out and placed it back in repeatedly, laughing so hard, he couldn't stand straight. He leaned on the door and the hole expanded to allow him entry, causing him to fall on the ground as he laughed. When it finally died down, he picked himself up and entered the burrow. He had a good feeling about it.

The halls of Dunroot Burrow were similar to Knotty Bramble. It was dark and dank, though Wrothken was pleased that it didn't smell like grummites. Instead of croaking, the tunnels were filled with the sounds of rapid skittering. Normally, he would've felt a little jumpy, but it didn't bother him at all. In fact, it was almost soothing. Was he getting used to explorations? Or was it just the felldew? He couldn't be sure. He didn't even care, really.

It wasn't long before he came across an elytra. It didn't glow like the one outside did, but it was just as hostile. Wrothken lifted his mace, surprised that it felt lighter than it used to, and made sure to go for the head. He was easily able to dodge its pincers and take it out. Was that thanks to the felldew as well? Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

The slain elytra didn't start to spout felldew, much to Wrothken's disappointment. He had a craving for some more, though he supposed it could wait a moment. First he needed to figure out where to put any extra felldew. He couldn't hold handfuls of it while he fought or he might lose it.

"Hmmm...." He said looking around. For a brief moment, he considered using his boot to hold it, but he didn't want to risk stepping in anything foul. "What to use, what to use?" He growled when nothing around him seemed to be suited for carrying around. Maybe I'll come across something later...

He continued down the tunnel when he ran into another elytra. This one, to his delight, was glowing. The strange thing was, it didn't attack. It didn't even seem to notice him. Either way, he needed more felldew. "No," he corrected himself. "I want more felldew."

He eagerly swung his mace at the elytra until it died and the felldew glistened off its mouth. Wrothken shoved its pincers to the sides so he could easily gather it all up. Prepared for the foul taste, he shoveled it in his mouth, swallowing it quickly as to avoid letting it touch his tongue. Within seconds, he was feeling even better than before.

He went deeper in the tunnels when he came across a tree stump with green mist sprouting from the top. He got closer and prodded the round green top with his mace. It jiggled for a moment before it spread open wide. Inside, he saw a few pink bottles with the word "heal" engraved on the bottom, along with a ring, a spoon, and a tomato. First he emptied the contents of the potions to the floor. "Here we are," he said, looping the bottles around his waist. He also took the tomato for later use.

The halls were quiet for awhile. No elytra, glowing or otherwise, skittered around. At first, he was fine with it. He actually welcomed the silence. After awhile, something began to gnaw at him. He didn't feel as strong as before and it suddenly felt like something was sitting on his chest. He felt almost sluggish. When a glowing elytra walked toward him, he didn't hesitate to kill it and gather all the felldew he could get. After scooping some into his mouth, he squeezed the rest into the bottles.

He grinned as his heart fluttered. It had been far too long since he felt anything like that. He felt a strong urge to lay on the ground and just revel in the feeling, but he continued on. The Chalice was necessary, or else Sheogorath would not be pleased. "Who cares?" He said. "It's his realm, why is he sending me to do his dirty work?!"

His heart pounded angrily as he thought more about it. Daedric prince was just another term for god, right? A real god would stop a realm destroying crisis himself! Why should he be the one to carry the weight of the Isles on his shoulders? Why couldn't Sheogorath do it himself? Or, better yet, send that pompous, smart-mouth Haskill to do it.

Wrothken began feeling sluggish as he passed by a tree trunk with gold resin crusted on top. He looked down at it and fury began to bunch up in him. When he looked into it, he saw Awour. Why in Oblivion was there so much damn gold in the Isles?!

"Dirty, rotten, hussy," he growled through clenched teeth. "Rotten tramp." His breathing grew ragged as he stared into the resin. Every second he spent staring into it, the more visions flashed before his eyes.

Finally, the Iron Champion closed for the night and it was time to go home. His feet ached, but his stomach was filled and he got his share of the septims for the night. Instead of heading straight home like usual, he left the city to pick some wild flowers for the kitchen. Awour recently mentioned that the house looked a little plain compared to other houses. This would be a good start.

He was late, but not by too much. He knew she wouldn't worry. That wasn't like her at all. He just hope she would like the flowers. Each one was specially picked just for her.

The door was locked. Strange. She didn't usually lock up until he was already home. As much as he tried, he couldn't think of why she would lock it. Good thing he always carried his key, just in case.

The first thing he saw was a dress on the floor, by the stairs. He felt a rush of excitement, imagining her waiting for him in bed, or even better, in a hot bath. He set the flowers on the table and as he headed upstairs, he heard a light gasp followed by hurried whispers. He went numb. He looked back at the table, finally seeing legionnaire armor scattered across the kitchen floor.

He ran up the stairs and pushed the door open to see Awour rolling off of Bacchus, covering her body with the bed sheet. The same one they purchased together upon first buying their house.

Millions of questions ran through his mind all at once, but nothing escaped from his dry mouth. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, his mind roared.

Awour didn't plead or even apologize. "I don't care if you know," she said. "He's a real man!"

Bacchus didn't say a word or even look at him. Wrothken stared into Awour's suddenly hateful eyes. Not a hint of love was seen in them. It shrank him. It killed him.

She walked up to him and guided him out the door, slamming it behind him. As he heard her retreating footsteps, he finally broke down, bawling at the top of his lungs. Never in his life had he felt so much pain and betrayal.

Wrothken picked up his mace and bashed the trunk repeatedly while screaming out words and phrases that would make Molag Bal blush and reprimand him for such talk. As the golden chips littered the ground, he tossed his mace to the side and just began beating the trunk until it was nothing more than a pile of broken wood.

He panted heavily, tears streaming down his face. He was scared. Never in his life had he seriously thought of hurting a woman, or anyone else. The fights he was in were self-defense or rough-housing with friends. He didn't even know he had all that in him. Maybe the Isles finally got him....or maybe it was time for his bottle of felldew.

He didn't even finish the thought when he pulled out the bottle and guzzled it down. His heart slowed down. He stopped crying. He smiled. Everything was fine again. All he needed was some felldew.



Back in a good mood, he entered another section of the cavern, where it was flooded. He had forgotten that Haskill had told him that the elytra can walk on water, until he saw a small group of them. Not one of them was glowing and all of them rushed over to attack. It wasn't long before they had him pinned against the wall, each of them thrusting their pincers at him at once, as if they could smell the juice of their brethren on his breath.

By the time he finally killed them, he was feeling down again. How long was it going to be until he finally got the Chalice? He looked down at his armor, unsure of how much more it could take before breaking. He heaved a sigh, not even hesitating to drink the last of his felldew. It was such a great pick-me-up.



Wrothken's heart raced with worry. The entire hall was filled with regular elytra. Not a single drop of felldew. His body was covered in a greasy sweat as he ran down the halls looking for a glow. He ran aimlessly, trying to evade the elytra. He didn't want to waste time on them. Time was precious. Time demanded felldew. Felldew or he would die in the tunnel.

He would do anything...anything to get his hands on more. He cursed himself for drinking it all so quickly. Why didn't he save some, just in case? He walked along until he passed another steaming trunk. A thought suddenly occurred to him. The top was green and mushy... it had to be made of felldew! With a burst of joy, he popped up and took a bite, retching in disgust. It wasn't felldew! It tasted like...tree!

He spent too long spitting the moss from his mouth and picking chunks of bark from his teeth. His body didn't want to move anymore. His vision started to blur. He was reduced to crawling when he saw it. The glowing elytra was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. It skittered towards him, unfazed by his presence. He was so happy, he didn't have the heart to kill it. Instead, he crawled over to it and suckled the felldew directly from its mandibles.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. They continued to move rapidly while in Wrothken's mouth. When they were sucked dry, Wrothken stood up feeling absolutely disgusted. Was this what he was reduced to? It was almost no different than degrading acts performed in alleys in exchange for a bit of skooma. He wanted to sink to the floor and cry, but he knew he didn't have time. He had to get the Chalice before the cravings got too bad.



Sanctum of Decadence. Wrothken stared up at the words in awe. At the end of the maze-like tunnels, stood a sturdy wooden door, complete with carvings of a party, most of them naked, and drinking from jeweled goblets in front of a large banquet table. It was very similar to what he had seen in Thadon's palace.

He opened the door and was assaulted by a pungent smell. It wasn't an animal. It was people. People who must have skipped bathing for a very long time... and by the nauseating mound in the corner of the room, couldn't do "business" in a sanitary manner.

When he headed up the stairs, he saw it. A large goblet sitting on top of a pedestal. The Chalice of Reversal. All he needed to do was drink from it and he'd be cured.

He ran toward it and it was inches away from his fingers when he was struck from behind with a chair. He stumbled, almost knocking the Chalice over. He looked behind him and saw a naked man, wild with fury. The man grunted and three other people, just as insane as he was, rushed out from the other room.

Wrothken pulled out his mace and backed up so he could see all of them. As he glanced around, he caught sight of several plates, bowls, cups, and bottles of felldew. He didn't understand. If they had their felldew, why were they acting so hostile? Maybe if I show them I'm not here to hurt them... He set his mace down and raised his hands up. "I just want the Chalice," he said.

The leader looked to his comrades and at once the atmosphere changed. When the first pitcher was flung at him, he scooped up his mace and thrust it forward, forcing the people to back up. He grabbed the Chalice, which sent them into an uproar. He looked around, seeing a door at the other end of the room. First things first, he thought. He looked into the Chalice, surprised to see a bit of felldew inside it. As he dodged a plate, he took a drink from the Chalice.

This time, the felldew made him feel different. He felt back to normal, both with the good and the bad. Then he felt the sting of a silver bowl across his face.

He looked back at the people and felt a wave of pity. They must have been so strung out, they weren't thinking straight. He rushed to the door and slammed it shut behind him. If they came after him, he wasn't sure what would happen. On one hand, he was weighed down by his armor and they were naked as jaybirds. On the other, that made them more susceptible to weather, creatures, and the cold Golden Saints. He didn't wait to see the outcome. He ran down the trail as fast as he could.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:41 AM

[SubRosa]

Well done all around. This was both lots of fun and creepy at the same time. I loved how you described Wrothken's craving for felldew. It was both subtle and hilarious. Could he put it in his boot! Further into the story it finally turns to ominous , as we see how deeply the cat has sunk its claws into Wrothken's back (to borrow the phrase from Olen).

Was he getting used to explorations? Or was it just the felldew?
I'll go with door #2 there... '

Ahh, so now we see the events of the fateful night when Wrothken caught Awour! That was nicely done. Wrothken seems a bit wimpy though. Most men would have gone the bash things with a mace and say things Molag Bal would blush at route.

It tasted like...tree!




nits:
He looked down at his ??? and fury began to bunch up in him.
You seem to have lost some text where I put the question marks.


. He was late,
Looks like a period slipped in at the start of this paragraph.


By the time he finally killed them, he was feeling down again.
I think you missed a the in there where I bolded it.


He ran down the trail as fast as he could.r
Looks like Haskill slipped in an extra r at the end when you were not looking...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 10 2010, 11:25 PM

[Remko]

Poor tree
The part of Wrothken biting into a branch and actually ralizing it tastes like wood was priceless

[Olen]

Good piece, the bit with him licking the felldew from the mandibles was genius (if rather nasty). And biting the tree, very funny. Especially when 'it tasted like.. tree'.

I like the balance you strike between humour and darkness, it's most certainly a funny piece but it has a darker side to it. A bit like the Isles really.

Excellent.

[D.Foxy]

He looked down at his **** and fury began to bunch up in him. When he looked into it, he saw Awour

That sentence made me blink -
A man saw a girl in his prick -
but I pray thee, writer who astounds -
shouldn't it be the other way around?

[mALX]

Powerful, Powerful, POWERFUL Write!!!!! This has to be the best chapter yet, you ROCKED it!!!!! I can't pick any part to post, it was all too great!!

Your depiction of the addiction, his inner dialogue, the darkness you are able to portray in thoughts and deed - WHEW !!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: May 11 2010, 06:15 PM

[Acadian]

Yes, this was quite brilliantly done, as well as most entertaining and fun to readl Bravo!

[minque]

Jackie my dear! Excellent writing! I enjoyed every word of it....sorry to be such a bad commenter!

[Jacki Dice]

SubRosa- Working with the felldew addiction was pretty difficult, so I'm glad it turned out right ^^

He looked down at his ??? and fury began to bunch up in him.
You seem to have lost some text where I put the question marks.

For the life of me I could not find this! Thank goodness for ctrl+F

Remko- Lol I got the idea during my play through. After all, it IS the same shade of green...

Olen- The licking part was gross. Then again, if I ran into a giant cricket covered in chocolate... Mmmmmm (tastes just like a Crunch bar XD) My humor really works with SI, so I'm glad I did it

Foxy- Lmao!

mALX- This was the hardest chapter for me to do because of the addiction. I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed it

Acadian- Thanks ♥

minque- Oh you're not a bad commenter! I'm glad to have you reading ♥

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Raining Cheese, Indeed!

Kirsty could hardly sleep at all. Her stomach was knotted with worry. After lying in bed and thinking about it for a few hours, she couldn't believe that she allowed some stranger to break into Wrothken's house and take jewelry. Maybe Lilitu-- if that was even her name-- wasn't a thief after all, but an undercover guard trying to put a stop to the Thieves Guild. Or maybe she and Awour were old friends, looking to catch Kirsty in something, just so they can report her later. For all Kirsty knew, she was a thief, but was going to run off with the spoils.

Realizing that sleep wasn't going to come to her, she decided to get to work.

She walked downstairs to the bakery and stood at the counter with a quill and parchment, checking her sales for the previous day. She made around fifty sweet rings yesterday, but didn't have enough for everyone who wanted one. She could try for seventy-five...but then again it was Tirdas. For some reason, Morndas always sold more sweets than any other day. "Sixty rings," she decided, writing it down.

Immediately she set to work. She found a large bowl and emptied a sack of flour into it. She was so happy to have left Valenwood. Flour, since it's grain, is forbidden by the Green Pact. Instead, they use bonemeal. It wasn't bad, but it didn't give the bread that fluffiness she loved. She took out a jar of honey and mixed it in, creating a thick paste. After forming the rings and soaking it in wine, she put them in the oven.

While she waited for them to cook, she started preparing some croissants and chocolate muffins to be baked as well. By time she was ready to open, her apron and any unprotected part of her dress was covered in powder.

The other townspeople were starting to wake up. People who still sold wares from carts were setting up outside the arena. She looked down the street, but still didn't see Lilitu. She bit her lip nervously. "Calm down," she told herself. "She probably isn't awake yet."

After the breakfast rush, though Lilitu still hadn't shown, a man carrying a sack full of papers walked in. Kirsty's heart raced. Did Wrothken finally send her a letter?

"Morning, miss," he said, handing her a copy of the Black Horse Courier. "Special edition," he said with a nod.

He walked away as Kirsty caught the headline.


Black Horse Courier

SPECIAL EDITION!
Rain of cheese! Transdimensional door appears!

An ordinary, peaceful morning on the Niben Bay was suddenly turned upside down when a downpour of cheddar cheese coated the immediate area. Locals from Bravil and the Imperial City scrambled to get a basket of the cheese, but by time they got to the area, guards had been sent to keep people from consuming it until it could be tested for poisons.

At the same time, it was reported that a strange door opened up on a mysterious island in the bay. Plants not found anywhere on Nirn were found, prompting a mass gathering of mages to examine and gather them up for potions. Several adventurers arrived on the scene as well, seeking to find out where the door came from and what its purpose is. Few have come out, and those who have seem to be driven mad by whatever's inside. A Bravil guard who has been posted at the door was quoted saying, "I keep telling them that nothing that enters come out right. They don't listen. Stupid kids got their heads filled with ideas of fame and fortune. Guess who gets stuck cleaning it up." The obvious madness in the victims has caused many to wonder if the door is something from Sheogorath. However, because all who have entered have become too disturbed to talk, there is no way to confirm that.

Chana Mona, the priest in Bravil's chapel of Mara, has been conducting her services outside by the bay, warning people to stay away. At first her words were unheeded, but seeing as how most have either gone insane or haven't returned at all, more are gathering to listen to her sermons.


She couldn't believe it. What it some kind of joke? What would they report next week, cupcakes in the lake? She crumpled it up, wondering if someone at the head office noticed the joke paper. Looking outside, she saw Lilitu wasn't out yet, but Awour was. She looked furious. Obviously, she and Lilitu were not in cahoots, and Lilitu did her job. Now her only concern was her bringing the jewelry back. She was a thief, after all.



Lilitu couldn't remember her dream, but she knew it was unpleasant. Visions flashed before her eyes too quick for her to recognize anything. She remained wrapped in red sheets, her hand still on the poem. She read through it again, but it failed to give her the same fuzzy feeling it did before.

Dolce ran up to Lilitu before she even made it downstairs. She jumped up on her, in her usual good mood. Lilitu held her face. "You know you have your own bed." She tapped her on the behind. "Off."

Dressed in a soft robe, she went to the kitchen and chopped up some beef. Dolce quivered as she tried to refrain from jumping up on the counter. Lilitu set the beef in a blue dish and set it on the floor. Dolce immediately pounced, greedily eating it as if she hadn't been fed in days.

While she ate, Lilitu got dressed. "Come on, Dolce," she said, after she finished. "Time to make a delivery."



When Kirsty finally saw Lilitu, she felt a wave of relief, with a slight flash of jealousy. Lilitu was wearing a red high-necked corset top, which recently became fashionable in the area. Kirsty had been highly disappointed to find that it was impossible to stuff herself into one and a custom made top would have been far too expensive. She looked down. Sometimes the blessing so many girls envied was so much more of a curse.

Lilitu smiled, taking a seat in front of her. Without prompting, Dolce sat down as well.

"Special delivery," Lilitu said, handing Kirsty a small coin purse. She opened it, gasping sharply when she saw the earrings and the ring nestled inside. "You look surprised."

"No, I just..." She couldn't admit that she thought Lilitu would deceive her.

"Don't worry about it. Most people who hire thieves for the first time don't expect the merchandise to come, especially if they have no experience with the guild."

Kirsty's cheeks burned. She felt so stupid. "Here, I know you wanted to do this for free, but at least take this, on the house." She handed Lilitu a fresh sweet ring.

When she took a bite, Lilitu's cherry red eyes suddenly seemed to glaze over and she moaned softly. "What is this?" she asked, quickly taking another bite.

"Just some sweet rings. I haven't come up with a good name for them just yet."

"I can think of some, but they're more suited for the bedroom than the kitchen. This is amazing!"

Kirsty reddened a little. She was usually too busy to hear people's compliments. "Um.. here's something for your dog, too." She stepped from behind the counter and set down a slab of ham. Dolce sniffed it curiously and took a hesitant lick, as if she wasn't sure she could trust it. Satisfied, she scarfed it down in a single bite.

Dolce took a step toward Kirsty and sniffed her hand. "Now she'll be your friend forever," Lilitu said. They were quiet for a moment before she said, "So, I'm just going to come out and ask. Who's Wrothken?"

"Wrothken?" She asked. "He's my brother."

Lilitu raised her eyebrows. "Your...brother?"

Kirsty shook her head. "Not exactly. I mean he's been like a brother. You know, looking after me and helping me out with stuff." She set her head on her hand, sighing. "He helped me run the place. Drunks listened to him more then they did me."

"Intimidated?"

Kirsty laughed. "Yeah. He's more like a big teddy bear, but people don't know that. All they see is a giant Nord with hands big enough to squash them."

"A Nord..." Lilitu smiled, licking her red lips. "I see. So, he's your brother, who lived with the high elf, and you wanted me to steal jewelry from their house." She looked outside. "She broke his heart, didn't she?"

Kirsty nodded. "He caught her in bed with another man."

Lilitu continued to stare outside. "It's sad how girls do that, and then they wonder why they can't find a good man. They've all been hurt so bad that they turn to jerks so they won't go through the pain again."

Kirsty nodded in agreement. She had been with far too many guys who kept to at a distance or who were cruel to her, just to avoid intimacy. She was about to ask Lilitu how she knew his name when Dolce sprang up, her ears folded back as she growled softly.

"Who was it?" Awour screeched, storming in. Her eyes were wild.

Kirsty's heart dropped to her stomach. She quickly tucked the coin purse in her skirt. "What are you talking about?" She asked. Her palms were starting to dampen.

"Don't play dumb with me! I know it was one of you!"

"Do you mind?" Lilitu asked. "I'm trying to enjoy a nice breakfast."

"Shut up!" Awour started to walk toward her, but Dolce started barking violently. "I'm going to find out, but until I do, you both had better watch your backs!"

Lilitu flashed a grin. "That's fine, sweetie, now shouldn't you get to work? The brothel's the other way."

Awour glared at her, hate filling her eyes. "I swear, I'll make you pay, Ashborn."

"You mean like all your customers? I suppose fair is fair."

Kirsty could see that if Dolce wasn't there, the two would've gotten in a brawl right there.

Awour spat on the floor before leaving.

"What a class act," Lilitu said.

Kirsty put her hand over her heart, trying to calm it down.

"If you're worried the guards would find out, don't. For one, she has no proof. Secondly, even if they believed her, I wouldn't turn you in. There is honor among thieves."

Kirsty managed a weak smile. Lilitu was good at making her feel at ease. She wasn't like the other girls she met. She didn't seem to have a drop of unnecessary cattiness in her. For years, Kirsty yearned for some female bonding. Sure, she had a few male friends, but they weren't the same. Could it be she finally found a good match? "Listen, after I close, do you want to just...talk?"

Lilitu smiled. "That'd be nice. How about some wine at my house?"

Kirsty nodded. "I'll bring some sweet rings."

"Sounds perfect. Dolce and I better be going. You never know when some business might pop up."

As Lilitu and Dolce left, the feeling of comfort left her. She found herself looking out repeatedly, worried that someone was going to come in and start trouble while she was alone. "Don't be silly," she told herself. "I'm not alone." Other patrons were eating and drinking, though there was only a handful of them. The chapel bell rang twelve times, letting her know that the lunch rush would be coming in soon. Cooking would take her mind off things, at least until the evening.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Jan 2 2011, 05:47 AM

[mALX]

Great dialogue!!! You have a huge storyline going here!!!

[Olen]

I'm loving the two storylines, the Kirsty one is developing well and she is becoming a strong rounded (pardon the pun) character. Makes me wonder how she'll get on with Lilitu and what Awour will do.

The newspaper article was sublimely perculiar. I loved it.

[SubRosa]

I like these scenes with the wimmin's as much as I do those of Wrothken. I suppose because they are all about relationships. Both the good and bad aspects.

I do wonder more and more why Awour was with Wrothken in the first place though. You describe him as the standard 'Nice Guy', which is a guarantee to never get laid (well, by a woman at least...). Awour seems like your cheerleader/queen bee of the clique type. The last kind of girl who would be interested in someone like Wrothken. It makes me think that she was playing him from the start to get at his money?

Speaking of Awour, her type usually surrounds herself with a clique of female cronies. Not to mention men whom she twists around her little finger to get whatever she wants from. Maybe we will see some of that in the future, when her promised vengeance comes at the hands of such types?

Good description of Kirsty worrying about Liltu. It not only shows us that at heart she is still very much an honest citizen, but also smart enough to run all those possibilities through her head.

Bonemeal to make bread! That's fertilizer, and a vector for Mad Cow disease! Ewwww! No wonder all those male Wood Elves in Oblivion are kooks! I definitely prefer Kirsty's version of bread!

Seriously though, I liked your description of Kirsty's morning cooking. I imagine that she would have to be a very early riser to bake her treats before the morning rush. That is just as much the case now as it was in the ancient world.

Dolce has a blue dish? You mean something in Liltu's house is not red?

Sometimes the blessing so many girls envied was so much more of a curse.
It is nice to see some acknowledgment that super-gigantic boobs are really not a good thing at all, in spite of what men all seem to think...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 17 2010, 03:10 AM