Oblivion's Edge, An Elder Scrolls Fan-Fiction Options

[Acadian]

So the fearsome reputaton of the Tscaesci has some merit, it seems. Ouch!

[Zalphon]

@Urenia, what are you referencing?

@Acadian, I have always been fond of Akavir and want the Tscaesci to live up to their reputation. In DnD there are creatures of similar physical form, yet they tend to be seen as weaker.

[Captain Hammer]

Ureniashtram's referencing Star Wars. "Dark Invader" -> "Darth Vader".

Protagonist loses hand in fight, and his paternal ancestor is an evil ultra-powerful Sith Lord, I mean Dark Mage, in service to an even more evil, darker overlord.

[Zalphon]

Wasn't meant to be that way . The Gauntlet is actually an artifact from an old story of mine. Malx would love to see the reference, but alas she is not here.

[ureniashtram]

It was meant to be a joke! Hahaha... ugh.

[Captain Hammer]

It was meant to be a joke! Hahaha... ugh.

I thought it was hilarious.

Much better than that pun about me being a Captain and my advice bein' treasure.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Jul 15 2010, 02:25 AM

[ureniashtram]

Pun.. ? Oh. Completely unintended, Capt'n, really.

[Captain Hammer]

Eh, maybe it's just me.

My D&D summer troupe is really off-beat and doesn't play with any amount of serious effort.

So I recycled a defunct character named Wyse Assthe Punne-May'Kar (Wise @ss the Pun-Maker), a half-elf bard.

He literally gets bonuses from the DM every time I make either a really good pun, or an incredibly lame pun, in attachment to a dice roll.

Which I need, 'cause my dice rolls are compassion, and it's the only real way I can ever crit on something.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Jul 15 2010, 03:31 AM

[Zalphon]

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Tscaesci Palace

I took a few steps outside of the house and saw a Tscaesci. With all the rage building up inside me, I couldn’t help it; I charged at it with both blades in hand. The golden-scaled creature parried with its long-bladed katana. “You dare attack his blessssed, I will smite you,” the creature hissed. Who is he that this creature speaks of?

I thrust Hopesfire into the Tscaesci and barked, “Give me the answers I want. Who is he?” I interrogated as I twisted the blade. “Follow me and remove your blade, ssssoft-ssssscale.”

Obediently, I tore the blade out of his flesh. He screamed in anguish, it stung my ears, but I shed no tears for the beast that attacked Moon-and-Star. The Tscaesci slithered towards the Imperial Settlement. We entered the town-hall and there stood a Tscaesci in a plate-mail breast-plate with a shining, silver claymore in hand. I recognized the runes on it from a book. Chrysamere.

“I am the warlord who killed the villagers,” It explained. “I do not lead the Tscaesci people, but I will gladly take those swords, Kalian.”

He didn’t have the same speech impediment as other Tscaesci and he knew my name. This was strange. “How do you know my name,” I inquisitively replied.

“I’ll die before I tell you anything,” the Warlord snarled. “Draw your blades or I’ll plunge them into your heart. Actually, I think I’ll do that anyway.” His red eyes and black pupils spit ice down my spine.

Quick-Strike whispered, “We’ll watch the door so no more Tscaesci can enter the fray.”

I nodded and the Warlord came near me and slashed at me. With Trueflame, I parried and with Hopesfire, I riposted. “We killed the dragons, and we can easily kill you,” he taunted. “Tosh Raka is the only survivor of our conquest.”

I had to win this fight or risk execution or worse, their dark rituals. Hopesfire slashed at the throat, while Trueflame aimed for the stomach. Trueflame cut through the armor and into the chest, but my off-hand weapon missed. His mighty blade hit my arm and I felt it burn.

“Now you shall die, soft-scale,” he hissed in anguish. “I’ll use your spine as a beating stick for the hatchlings.” I felt his blade cut into my neck and everything went black. I thought I was dead, but when I awoke I was in a loin-cloth in a gray-stone dungeon in a cell. It reminded me of the Imperial Prison a little bit.

“Poor ssssoft-sssscale,” the Jailor cackled. “Had to pick a fight with the most race to ever walk Nirn.”

My cell-mate looked at me. He was an Imperial. His hair was long, dirty, and white, he boast a white beard and a thin abdomen. “I been in here since they attacked us,” he sighed. “I’m going to die in here. So will you.”

The Jailor came back. It was smaller than most other Tscaesci I had seen, so I guessed it was a female. “I have been hungering and you’re sssso old and feeble,” the Tscaesci said as she opened the cell. She grabbed my cell-mate and sunk her fangs into his neck.

I would’ve done something, but I’d be next if I did. She dragged him out, he gave no struggle. I was alone, no Quick-Strike, no J’skooma, no Evangeline. I would have to fight my way out or get out on my own.

I looked at my shackles and had an idea. “Hey Tscaesci, couldn’t kill all the dragons,” I barked. “You’re so pathetic; I bet the tiger-people could easily snap your neck.” Never had I seen a snake-creature move so fast. Within a few seconds she was in my cell. I used the chain of my shackles to suffocate her. It took a few minutes, but I grabbed the key-ring and unlocked my bindings.

I moved silently as I walked out of the cell. I looked in the other cells, just bones. A plain, wooden chest was locked at the end of the hall and I ran over to it. Perhaps it held my swords. When I opened it, it had a note.

“Hissarisi,

Hissarisi, after you read this note burn it. The prisoner you have is extremely dangerous. The High Shaman has seen a vision of this soft-scale. She said that he will bring down our empire if we don’t stop him.

His Argonian and Khajiit companions are going to be executed next Morndas, by the Emperor himself. He supposedly has fought them in the past, but they nearly killed him. If the soft-scale causes any trouble kill him.

Lord Skar.”

Quick-Strike and J’skooma would be executed seven days from now. I had to stop this, even if it meant I could die. They’ve saved my life more times than I can count; now I need to repay the favor.

My armor was gone, my weapons were gone, and I would need some protection of some kind. I looked in the Jailor’s office and saw a chest. I opened it and noticed a steel chain-mail tunic, a pair of pants, and some leather boots. Most likely the other prisoner’s belongings, not that he would need them anymore. I put on the clothes and armor. I could use a weapon, but I’d be okay for now.

Now that I had some armor, I would need to escape the prison and make it to the Tscaesci palace to rescue my friends. It was time for me to finally live up to the title of the Champion of Nirn by rescuing one of the oldest guardians of it…

[Acadian]

This flowed well.

Ok, I want to see Tosh Raka! Oooh! Don't you think you could work a dragon into your story?

[Destri Melarg]

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Akavir

I love Kalian’s reaction when the Tsaesci severs his hand:

“Owww!”

This is a step in the right direction, Zalphon. At last we see Kalian against a foe that he can’t defeat with ease. I look forward to reading your take on Akavir.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Tsaesci Palace

Kalian may not be mortal, but in these last few chapters you have begun to succeed in making him human. Now, as he is about to assault the Tsaesci Palace in second hand armor with no weapon, we can empathize with his situation and we can root for him to prevail. Well done.

[Zalphon]

I am a serious dragon-fan Acadian (the players my DnD fear dragons, due to even whelps being 15th level wizards, clerics, and fighters. 30 is the max level in the current edition.)

Tosh Raka will more-than-likely have an appearance. And the Tscaesci are very, very powerful beings. As are their rivals. A single Tscaesci could take on four or five Imperial Legion soldiers.

Destri, I have been trying to give him a much more mortal feel (he has some divine power, but he's not a god). I personally thought it was really cool to bring back the Gauntlet.

I fear he may anger Tang Mo or go to *gulp* Kamal. The Ka Po'Tun may also have influence. I have big plans for the events of Akavir. And after it too.

Apparently he's not just the Champion of Tamriel like he thought. His pilgrimage to the shrines has changed to a pilgrimage to the continents? Only time will tell

This post has been edited by Zalphon: Jul 16 2010, 02:51 AM

[Zalphon]

Chapter Thirty: The Fate of Nirn

I slowly crept out of the prison and heard two voices. “Quick-Strike shall die,” one voice hissed. “He must be tortured.”

“Perhaps, Klaw, perhaps he will,” the other responded. I looked at my feet for something to distract them. A few pebbles and a small stone. My hands firmly wrapped around the stone and I tossed it across the hall-way.

Their golden-scaled tails slithered past the sconce-lit stair-case. I silently darted up the stairs. When I reached the top I saw a Tscaesci, his bright gold scales and dark red eyes scanned the room. The light of the torches reflected off his shiny scales and cuirass. He flicked his tongue in the air and noticed me.

The creature sprinted towards me with both of ebony katana drawn. “I am a member of the Tscaesci Blades. Prepare to die,” he ordered. His voice was intimidating to say the least; I could sense his rage.

With a prayer to the Nine, I tried to punch him. However, it didn’t work. My mind was filled with a searing vision of Tamriel. The sky was red, the White-Gold tower was as black as night. Daedra marched across and killed the mortals, skeletal soldiers aided in the butchery.

I then saw a Dunmer standing atop the White-Gold Tower. He shouted with a booming voice, “On this day, Nirn shall be purged. Reborn from the ashes it shall be…”

My fist bounced off the armor as I returned to reality. I had failed, Tamriel had fallen and soon, Nirn would too. I had to save Quick-Strike and J’skooma, Zalphon needed to die.

The palace began to crumble as I heard a roar, “Tamriel is the first step to the end of Nirn.” When a piece of ceiling fell, I saw a huge, orange dragon with black tiger stripes. He flew down and grabbed me with his left claw, Quick-Strike and J’skooma were on his back.

“Tosh Raka?” I asked in amazement. It was real dragon, not just a fairytale. It was thee Tosh Raka.

“Indeed,” he telepathically said. “Tamriel has already begun to fall, I shall leave you in Mournhold, it is one of the Holding Pens of Tamriel.” I merely nodded and appeared in the City of Lights and Magic.

The beauty was gone; Dremora held long swords and archers lined the walls. We were captives, but I could get out by finding the ancient portal to Tamriel that is rumored to be in the sewers. “Halt,” a Daedric Foot-Soldier ordered. “Why are you in armor and not in the slave-uniform?”
“I…Ummm… I was just transferred here from Fort Vos in Vvardenfell,” I lied. I wasn’t sure if he believed it, but I hoped.

“Interesting.” I saw a look on his face. Disbelief showed in his crimson eyes. “Master Arkoth, this is one of the rebels.”

A lich walked over. “Kalian, the dark lord told us of you. Kill him,” Arkoth barked. “If he escapes, I’ll personally make sure all of you scribs are being bathed in flame for the next month.”

The guards charged at me, but the enthralled prisoners revolted. Just the thing I needed. I made a hand-signal pointing to a sewer grate and we jumped in. The smell was foul, but it was our only chance. Hundreds of years ago, the Nerevarine killed the goblins and their Altmeri trainers down here, hopefully there are no remnants.

“Tosh Raka is a dear friend of J’skooma’s,” the Wizard smiled. “J’skooma saved Tosh Raka from the Demons of Kamal long ago.”

“Indeed,” Quick-Strike stated. “When Zalphon, J’skooma, and I navigated these sewers in search of the traitorous dog, Helseth, we found a gateway to the White-Gold Tower. I wonder if it still exists.”

The dark, damp under-works of Mournhold had a stench of death and skooma. For hours we navigated, but to no avail. Finally, we saw a metal door and I pushed it open. An ovular-portal stood there, but in front of it stood him…

Adam wore a suit of black-and-red daedric armor. “Zalphon brought me back, I was reborn. He told me you’d come, he told me to kill you.”

“Stop,” I cried out. “This doesn’t have to happen.”

“Am I corrupt? Is that what you think? I am enlightened, fools. Surrender yourself to his will and you’ll feel the grasp of death, what a wonderful grip it has.”

“You know that’s false, as do I.”

“Is it false? I have brought forth revolution, my power is beyond imagination.”

I drew my blade and he mimicked me. Quick-Strike charged and stabbed at the vampire. However, they slid off his armor. I lunged my blade into the weak-spot of his armor, his neck. Adam hissed, “I pray this will be my final rest, I have much atonement in the after-life.” I kneeled over him and a tear burnt my face and slid to his chest.

We entered the portal; the fate of Nirn was on our shoulders… The question was, would we succeed?

[Acadian]

Whew! They made it out. And with the help of a DRAGON! WooHoo! I liked how you tied J'skooma's past to Tosh Raka and the Kamal.

Nice job blending Kalian getting smacked down by the snake with his 'dream/vision'. Kinda mystical and all. Kalian seems a little more vulnerable than he did earlier, and I find it becoming on him.

Nicely done also, how you resurrected Adam and allowed him a final rest.

Now, since Kalian has time to go play with dragons, perhaps he can try to make amends for being a, well, donkey's butt, to Evangeline. He's sacrificed her once, beheaded her once and blew her off once - I'm not sure she can forgive him this time.

[Zalphon]

I don't think she will either. Remember the vision, Pell's Gate is a small settlement and Tamriel has been sweeped with the Daedra/Undead Armada. Anything is possible... This story will definitely make it in Zalphon's Fan-Fic Lore. I sense future stories with rumors floating around about Kalian.

[Destri Melarg]

I agree with Acadian, tying J’Skooma and Quick-Strike’s past to Tosh Roka and the Kamal was good. And it was nice to see Adam back even though he didn’t stay around very long, did he?

What happened to the Tsaesci that Kalian was fighting? Was he buried under the rubble from the collapsed ceiling?

I would be remiss if my comments didn’t include a warning to be careful of the Deus ex machina(see here). In this chapter you use it not once, but twice. . . Tosh Raka’s convenient appearance to bail Kalian out of his fight with the Tsaesci, and the slaves sudden revolt to coincide curiously with Kalian’s appearance in Mournhold (well, strictly speaking, you use it three times if you count Quick-Strike attacking Adam to provide just enough of a diversion for Kalian to come up and leisurely stab him in the neck).

This begs another question, but this one is an easy fix: When Adam challenges him Kalian ‘draws his blade’, but as near as I could tell he was still weaponless. It seems logical that Quick-Strike would have given him a weapon at some point after his rescue, but you need to tell us that this happened otherwise it just feels contrived.

[Zalphon]

I see, Destri. I won't make the same mistakes again.

[Zalphon]

Chapter Thirty-One: The Final Battle

Suits of armor, swords and axes, all kinds of weapons were on tables. I donned a suit of Daedric Armor and a long-sword of Daedric craft. “Kalian, there is a good chance this will be our tomb. May Anu watch over you, Kalian,” Quick-Strike whispered as he put on a suit of black-leather armor.

I merely nodded. I had no fear, not anymore. Whether this was divine or mundane, I was ready to slay ‘my Ancestor’. We walked up the stairs and J’skooma cast a spell to open the lock.

A Dremora walked over to us and bowed deeply. “You have made it so far, Kalian. However, you didn’t do it fast enough,” he cackled. “It is I, Valkynaz Proditor. The Daedric Armada has swept Tamriel, and soon Nirn. Dagon will soon join us and your foolish little quest will be crushed.”

“Proditor,” I hissed. “You’re just a worm. I have watched my friends die and rise up again. I have fought Tscaesci. I have met Tosh Raka. You’re merely another foe I need to slay.”

Valkynaz Proditor stepped back. “You ash-born, you scrib, you nix-hound, I’ll kill you.” He drew his sword and I drew mine. I thrust into his chest, as he slashed at my arm. Blood began draining into my armor, but I couldn’t stop. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, my sword went straight for his throat.

Proditor riposted it. A blow struck me in the torso. As I fell to the ground, I slashed at his eyes. He fell too. Darkness filled my vision, but I had to stay awake. My Argonian friend kneeled beside me and muttered a spell. Suddenly, I felt a burst of vigor. However, Quick-Strike was dying.

I cradled him and asked, “Why? Why did you do it?”

“Even the greats must enter the Dreamsleeve, Kalian. Today I die; my life is in Anu’s hands now. Will I be reincarnated again as myself with all my memories and skills or will I be reincarnated as someone else, only time will tell,” The Argonian stated. “Farewell, Kalian. May Anu watch over you.”

I could feel his life-force fade. J’skooma fell to his knees and I saw tears wet his furry face. “J’skooma is horribly sad, Quick-Strike is dead,” the Khajiit sobbed. “J’skooma must leave and search for Quick-Strike if he is reborn as Quick-Strike again.”

A tear burned my eyes as the insane mage ran off. I walked and the Dremora, the Necromancers, and the Skeletal Champions kneeled. I reached a white-gold door that led to stairs. One of the Dremora said to me, “You killed Valkynaz Proditor. You are worthy of combating against Zalphon.”

“Why do you let me pass?” I questioned suspiciously.

“We are soldiers and warriors. However, we respect combat and honor. You killed Valkynaz Proditor honorably, the best of us all and Lord Dagon’s second-in-command. Zalphon waits at the top of the tower. Slay Zalphon and Dagon will be weakened back to his normal form and the other Princes will weaken him so that he can’t return after they banish him.”

I nodded, “Zalphon awaits my blade.” I opened the door and walked up the spiral staircase. There he stood.

A Dunmer with hair as black as ebony and a suit of Daedric Armor protected his body. “I am impressed,” he stated. “Quick-Strike lays dead, J’skooma hunts for him. I was rather eager to speak to my former friend.”

“You betrayed us all, Quick-Strike, J’skooma, the Nine,” I scowled. “I am the Champion of Nirn, destined to stop you and make you suffer for your crimes.” I had no fear. I was confident, ready to kill him.

“Kalian, if I wanted you dead… I would’ve done so. I have waited for this day for decades. Mundus will be mine. You may bask in my triumph as my equal.”

I wanted to take his offer, but I drew my sword instead. I would die before I served with or for him. “Zalphon, today you die,” I barked. “Your death will be fast.”

He turned around and frowned. He tore his blade out of the scabbard. With godly haste he slashed at me, but I parried. As if everything was slowed. I lunged, but he dodged it. Instantaneously his long-sword cut into my right arm. A surge of adrenaline rushed through my blood.

With an elegant strike, almost a dance I stabbed his heart. He fell to his knees and whispered, “Impressive, Kalian. Know this; I always did care about you. You are my great grandson.”

He fell on his face and the sky’s red-color faded into light gray as rain fell. A bright flash of light appeared and I saw a white-skinned elf in white plate-mail. “Greetings Kalian, I am an Avatar of Anu. You have completed the Prophecy of the Black Dawn. Your days of walking Nirn are over,” he telepathically stated. A burst of light emitted from his palm as he placed it on my chest.

My journey was over, I had ascended. To where? I don’t know, but I found myself speaking to the Nine Divines. We were surrounded by blackness with stars and celestial planets, but I’m not sure where we were.

And so ends my tale...

Sir Kalian Broodikus, Champion of Nirn

This post has been edited by Zalphon: Jul 22 2010, 02:34 AM

[Zalphon]

Epilogue

Tamriel was changed after Zalphon fell. A long-lost Septim descendent was found, Reman Septim. He brought peace to the Empire and restored it to the glory it had during the previous Septim Dynasty.

Kalian became a hero to the people of Nirn. The Tscaesci viewed him as the Great Protector. The peoples of Tamriel made several stories for him. The Dunmer of Morrowind called him the Incarnate of Vivec. The Nords of Skyrim called him the Grand Warrior, while the Nords of Solstheim call him the Guardian Spirit.

The Denizens of Illiac Bay called him the Avatar of Ebonarm. The Argonians of the Black Marsh said he was the Hero of Argonia. The Khajiit of Elsewyr noted him as the High Protector. The Bosmer of Valenwood named him the High Ranger.

However, he had one name in common to all of them. The Champion of Nirn was his title. In the town of Sutch, there was a Chapel of Kalian. To the people of Tamriel, he was more than a hero…

Forever more, Kalian Broodikus would be remembered in the hearts of the survivors and the libraries of Tamriel...

[Acadian]

Oooh! This was beautifully done, Zalphon. Just a very good story with a fine ending. I have enjoyed reading this. So, Kalian joins the ranks of Z-lore. Somehow, I know we will see the Argonian assassin and the crazy cat-mage again. . . .

Your epilogue was, in my opinion, used exactly the way an epilogue should. Well done!



Question, or nit:

“Proditor,” The Scarred Dunmer hissed. “You’re just a worm. I have watched my friends die and rise up again. I have fought Tscaesci. I have met Tosh Raka. You’re merely another foe I need to slay.”

I looked around and the only Dunmer I see is Kalian himself. Therefore, I assume Kalian is the actor in this paragraph. Why is this then not in first person, since it is Kalian's first person story? Did you simply slip into third person for this paragraph by mistake, or am I missing something?

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jul 22 2010, 02:18 AM