Shards of Broken Emperors/Playground 1, Vvardenfell: Roots of Sve'lkreen Options

[saqin]

Sa'Quira

I simply followed Cyldreen as quietly as possible through the forest. I'd have to be careful around him, he gave me an odd feeling.

I think I saw the footprints before he did, but I kept quiet and after a short while he stopped to have a look at them. I'd already felt the blood scent by then, and my ears lay flat against my head. Someone had been badly wounded, and that was only told by the scent.

I heard a trace of, what? Joy? In his voice when Cyldreen asked me to "sniff" the scent. I ignored it for the moment, I could think about his mood later.

"If whoever was wounded didn't have very strong magicka or potions, whoever it is is dead by now." I said, crouching by the tree trunk. Yes, it was the blood of either man or mer, the scent was somewhat masked by the smell of ash, so I couldn't say exactly. And ash, I'd guess that meant a tomb.

I got up on my feet and walked a few feet away from Cyldreen, then I crouched down again. I didn't have to concentrate for long before I felt that the scent had increased slightly.

"The rightful owner of the blood, is either man or mer, have recently been in contact with the dead and was heading this way." I turned to the breton with a slight smile and gestured towards the way where the scent got stronger. Then I turned again to follow the scent, not waiting for the breton to catch up with me. As we got closer the scent became more distinct and I became certain that we had with a tomb to do. I shrugged when I realized that the scent of ash probably had to do with undead. It usually did, though most of the times that I'd come across it in Cyrodiil I'd steered clear of it.

[ureniashtram]

EDIT* I have another question.. and again I posted it by PT.



Cyldreen Mon'Cheri

Cyldreen, for want of a better word, impressed by the Khajiit. But then again, all of the Folk in Elsweyr are excellent scouts and other rogue-ish types; that's what won them the Five Year War between the Elves of Valenwood.

He followed her, and as they cautiously walked, the Breton's skin became prickled and the hair at the back of his neck became rigid. The air around them suddenly became... sinister? Normal person would only feel unusual cold, but to a mage the feeling of undeath can be compared to a bite of a mosquito to an unsuspecting skin.

While Cyldreen is no accomplished mage, the blood that courses within his entire body warned him of the presence of the undying. He silently gave thanks to whoever made him a Breton; the blood of the Man-Mers were useful at odd times.

And now, they stopped at the front of beat-down door that leads to Malacath-Knows-Where and the feeling of something wicked just became more intense.

Cyldreen might laugh and become merry when murdering someone alive, but the thought of encountering the ones who rosed from the dead made him feel ... different, for lack of a better word. He considered this carefully, while hefting with his axe with his eyes closed. When he was troubled, he found out that interacting with his weapon somehow gave him comfort.

Not that I'm scared, of course but... I might be bloodthirsty, but I'm not stupid either. I know a hopeless when I see one. Maybe we should turn back..? No. Where was the raging breton that ripped the throat of a Legion general? I made some unforgivable acts and I'm scared of some zombies and ghosts? This isn't Cyldreen.

He opened his eyes and it glinted with determined bloodlust before melting to a smile that appeared Cyldreen's lips. He stepped forward and reached out to push the warped wood. And when his fingers brushed the surface, it felt.. dead to him. Just like the inhabittants of this particular tomb. He sucked in a breath before releasing it, and when he did, he pushed open.

The sound of wood scratching against soil was like a dead woman's shriek and it sent shivers on Cyldreen's back. It was also louder that he expected. But the sound didn't matter, it was irrelevant. What was important was the blackness infront of him. Even daylight didn't touch the entrance, just... void.

"Well, I've always wanted to die in a dark cave. Even in death, I want my skin pale and not brown," he muttered under his breath and cast a flare spell. Its light gave Cyldreen something to see, and the thing he saw was just a narrow hallway. The floor beneath, much to his suprise, was made of red tiles. Although time did it no justice, it was still clean, albeit a little unsteady and ready to break when enough force is applied enough. On the other side was an intricate door.

There were some kind of designs, but the Breton couldn't see the details. It was fortunate that there was a piece of wooden staff nearby, although he didn't know why it was leaning at the side of the door, it was nonetheless useful for creating a torch. He just needed a cloth to wrap around the tip.

Time for your test, kitty.

He swirled with the grace only the most adroit spy could vave and faced the Khajiit.

"Ladies first," again the tone of serpentine deception was hidden by the voice of a persuasive viper. He smiled, bowed in friendly way and gestured her to go first. He kept his eyes neutral, though, for the Khajiit were experts at reading people's feelings, or so he heard. He just hoped that the woman in front of him didn't picked up on his deceitful plans.

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Sep 25 2010, 05:21 PM

[DarkZerker]

Tess

Tess anxiously awaited a move by both Riden or Kaye but when nothing came, she intervened. "Kaye, what right do you have to control what others are doing? Hm?"

She turned to Riden, "And you promised me your work wouldn't interfere with us!"

Riden sighed, "Yes...yes I did."

Tess gleefully clasped her hands, "So we aren't going to go anywhere with you two at each others necks."

Riden chuckled a little bit, "You know the ironic thing is that I am a weapons engineer. You see, ever since the Oblivion crisis, my type of business has been at an all time low so I make it up with selling all sorts of toys. Of course nothing can separate me from my family business."

Tess shrank down and started to explain in a quiet sweet voice, "Riden's side of the family was always a family of assassins...so you do what you are trained to do. Just like he trained our child to be an assassin."

"So sure...go on and try to stop me from my works but I promise you, that would be a grievous mistake. Until I get back to Cyrodiil, I'll do what I want."

[saqin]

Sa'Quira

Stepping aside to let Cyldreen open the door, I meanwhile shuddered at the thought off meeting the undead. But none the less I followed him inside, taking my bow and putting an arrow against the string. A silver arrow. When we entered the cave I instantly used nighteye to see, and what met my eyes weren't pretty.

There was a slight change of color on the floor, irregular spots. Most likely of blood. And well, many other things that one would expect when coming into a tomb.

"Ladies first," I looked at him when he spoke. He'd turned around to face me, smiling. But looking at his eyes I knew the smile didn't reach them. Still I didn't flinch when walking ahead of him, because after all, I had the best eyesight.

Walking further I began hearing the rough noise of bone against the floor, and about the same time I saw a door. Ears against my head, and the hair on my back standing, I carefully pushed it open. Then I took a step backwards and raised my bow.

I never liked undead, because you shouldn't have to kill something twice. I've killed loads of bandits and predators, even a few mages, during my time as a mercenary. But I've never really gotten into fighting the undead, partly because bow and arrows doesn't do much good against them. Especially not against skeletons.

The skeleton had the most blood chilling look. It looked as if though it smiled when it ran against me. It held an axe in it's hands. Without any further thought, I released the arrow, and the skeleton staggered when the silver made contact to it's chest.

[Dantrag]

Nelacar

Nelacar was aware of the potentially volatile situation around him, but his eyes were fixed on the Imperial woman. She had the look of a spellcaster, which is what initially drew his gaze. But there was something else.

Purple eyes?

He put the thought into the back of his mind and listened to Kaye and Riden for a moment before interjecting.

"It might be unfair to ask you to switch professions, Riden," he began, wondering why he even bothered playing peacemaker, "But perhaps you could show a bit more restraint. You've brought enough trouble on all our heads already. I intend to help Cyldreen to find the roots, and if you and Kaye are coming along, it would be best if we weren't at each others' throats."

Were it not for Cyldreen's quest, Nelacar would never have involved himself. Making peace was the way of the monks, but practicality was the way of the mage. Riden's skills as a killer would be useful on their journey, and Kaye's good sense would as well. As far as Nelacar was concerned, the better the two got along, the easier the road ahead would be.

The monks have made me soft. Why do I care if some humans kill each other?

[jack cloudy]

Kaye Soscean

There were a hundred things he wanted to say but he realized that he was just slamming his head against a brick wall. Besides, Nelacar had a point, even if he probably hadn't meant it quite this way. Expecting Riden to do an instant 180 was foolish. If the man could be swayed that easily, they wouldn't be having this argument right now.
"What right do I have to control what others do, to meddle in their affairs? None whatsoever, nobody does. From where I am standing however, controlling the method and time of people's death is far worse form of meddling. I wouldn't dare call myself human if I didn't object to that. But fine, for the moment I'll be satisfied if you promise not to go on any more killing sprees without provocation. Frankly, I hope the same of Cyldreen but I'll get to that later. However, this does not mean that my final goal has changed. Just that I am willing to make it a long-term one rather than a short term."

"Hmmph, family tradition. Traditions change. The farmer splits the land between his sons till it becomes too small to live from. Some move to the cities to find work there, others try their luck with new farming methods. Traditions change, whether it is that of farmer or assassin. And some traditions should change."

[DarkZerker]

Riden

"Very well, I'll stop killing more citizens unless there's a good opportunity. For Tess' sake."

Tess smiled and pulled the assassin along, "Come on, I think Cyldreen is wondering where we are."

Riden looked back at Kaye and the Altmer, "Pick up the pace," He snapped. All he could think at that point was where his son was in this land and wondered if he'll meet him on the road for the roots.

[ureniashtram]

[u]
Cyldreen Mon'cheri[/u]

"Get back, you Khajiit," the breton cried as he charged with his axe raised. SOme of the tiles broke when the spy closed the distance between him and the skeleton. Although the silver arrow caused enough damage, it wasn't enough to actually kill it. The undead quickly took notice of the raging Breton and its attention on Saqin vanished.

"Take this!" a swing from Cyldreen's axe met the barbed tip of another axe. The impact sent painful shockwaves on his forearm, and although it slowed down the speed of another attack, Cyldreen nonetheless ignored it. What he didn't expect was a fist heading on his stomach.

Uggh! ... That bone is like steel! I should've brought the pistol!

Staggering backwards, he barely evaded a chop that tried to introduce itself on his skull. The breton cursed and sent a kick on the skeleton's shins. It's balance upset, Cyldreen quickly took advantage and bowled the undead to the ground.

It quickly tried to stand up and retaliate, but two of its legs being reduced to dust prevented it to do so. Cyldreen sent it back to the other world with a ball of fire on its face.

"Somehow, I think that we'll encounter more of this type of undead if we delve deep. Makes me cry in joy!" the rage was building up in a demented heap of anger and it will not be long if the darker nature of Cyldreen clawed down the reasonable part of him.
Panting, he turned to the intricate door. Although some of the designs were faded, those remaining could put today's masons to shame. A full moon overlooking a valley filled with flowers were etched, and the ones on the side spoke of roses and somekind of castle.

Moon... Rose... Flowers and Castles? Why do I get the feeling that this is somehow related to Azura?

That thought vanished when he pushed open the door. It was darker than ten thousand midnights, and the torch that Cyldreen wielded revealed so little.

"Let's go!"

[saqin]

Sa'Quira

I backed when Cyldreen charged towards the skeleton, and stayed out of his way when he fought it. I silently noted that he had some skill with his axe, and decided that it would be very foolish to ever make him angry. I looked around the room then, and saw a door on the other side just as Cyldreen finished with the skeleton. I shrugged when he called out, enjoying to fight undead? That's not normal.

I bent down next to the skeleton and took a look at the arrow. It was useless, and the axe that it had been wielding wasn't in any better condition. It was almost broken.

Walking over to the door I had a look at the pictures it showed. They where interesting, that's true, but I didn't think much of it when I followed Cyldreen into the opening. Still using nighteye, I had no troubles to keep up with him.

[minque]

Serene

"Hey mister! Not so fast!" she spat looking at Riden "This poor man deserves a proper burial, and that is what he's going to get"

She was sincerely angry and still couldn't understand why Arille had to die...

"The citizens of Seyda Neen will probably hang you if they find out it was you who killed him...so what's the deal? You either help burying him or the people here will find out what you did..in a very mysterious way" Serene smirked.

She then turned to Nelacar and looked thoughtfully right in his eyes.

Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar...

[DarkZerker]

Riden & Tess

Riden turned around, his face a blank expression, "You can bury whoever you want. I really don't care."

He turned back towards the forest and continued walking. Tess stood back, "Sorry about that...he's a bit er...annoyed from the conversation before. I'll help bury him if you want. " She gave the Imperial a light smile, "But please don't report him to anybody...for your sake."

[minque]

Serene

So he's that type of man! Very well he'll soon be aware of who he's dealing with

Serene looked at Tess with a faint smile

"Thank you, I can need a hand with this, another thing though..I am not the least afraid of that ..that man of yours, just so you both know!"

"Ok then let's get on with this"

Shall I ask for help to carry the corpse or...shall I just do it myself? Better not reveal too much..yet

"Please gentlemen could you help me carry Arille inside? I need to prepare him for his last journey"

[jack cloudy]

Kaye Soscean

Kaye watched Riden go with a heavy heart. He knew that he really shouldn't just watch the man go. He could not afford to let the assassin leave his sight. On the other hand, Tess had chosen to stay and do the proper thing. Riden would be back, if only for her.
"I will help, it is the least I could do." He therefore said and kneeled down to gently take Arille into his arms. Most of the eyes in twon were upon him, or upon the corpse he helt. It made him nervous and self-conscious but he swore not to show any of it. Right now, his duty to a man he'd never known was more important than his feelings regarding himself.
"Please lead the way, lady."

[DarkZerker]

Riden & Tess

As Riden walked away, he could make out a few words Kaye had said, "Riden would be back, if only for her."

He mentally slapped himself, knowing that he would eventually return. Why not now? He trailed behind them, staying back but not caring to let his presence be known.

Tess walked silently with the others and finally spoke up, "You know, Riden isn't a bad guy...he's just doing his job."

The assassin hearing this, smiled a little and continued to trail the group.

[ureniashtram]

Cyldreen Mon'cheri


The breton, to say the least, was frustrated.

In front of him was an impenetrable darkness, the torch was useless and to top it all off he can't cast a single night-eye or light spell. He sighed and went to another solution; use all of his reserves of magicka to enhance the torch's job. He did so and the light that surged from his fingertips to the wood revealed a room with a tomb on the sides. The walls were carved in to fit the grave, and by its sides were urns.

There was also a door by them, and seeing no other way to proceed, the breton went. Each step he took sent a unwanted shivers on his spine and dragons on his stomach. He could practically see the evil emanating from the warped wood for a door.

The source of this evil is there, waiting and preparing. I wonder who corrupted this tomb and turned it into a lair of the risen dead? A necromancer or something far more sinister? Whatever the case, I should proceed and end the kitty's test.

And as his hand touched the handle, he fought the urge to scream and grovel. His hairs were rigged, imaginary worms worked their way inside him and his gut were heavy with lead. He closed his eyes and tried to remember his training on Orsinium, but something kept him from doing so. Something held back the thoughts that would calm and enrage him. Something teased him into reaching the memories of hate and bloodlust, and when he can practically tap those emotions to his advantage something denied him the savage bliss of rage at the last minute. Something... Something... Something...

Sheer terror.

A malicious snarl borne out of fear came out of his mouth and he took a step backwards to kick open the door. The first thing he noticed was the odor that rammed itself at his nose. It was enough to make Malacath wrinkle his nose, and Cyldreen's eyes watered. But that wasn't the one that would gave him nightmares for the first time in a long time.

Bones were on top on each other, creating a perverted version of a hill. Skulls stared everywhere and nowhere, rib-cages that once held living organs now housed rotting intestines filled with sawdust and maggots. Flies were bustling joyously as they feast upon the remains of those who were dead. Torches made of flesh and burned with magical ashes that was once bones lined up in a line, revealing disgusting details not worth mentioning.

One noteworthy detail was at the center, however. A table, covered by tissues and bloodied veins knitted together to make a cloth, was sitting ten feet from Cyldreen and an alchemist' tools were all lined up. Mortars and pestles were numberless, as well as retorts and alcinators.

"I see we have a visitor.. I bid you welcome, adventurers. It is not often old Vaerecor have some ... guests to entertain," a tall figure emerged from the shadows and its body was covered in black rags that concealed the whole of the figure's body, making it hard to know its race. It's voice was painfully male, however and by the sing-song, dead-to-the-world haughtiness that rang from it, it made him a-

An Altmer. Even without the High Elves' trade-mark pointed ears, I can still distinguish them by the tone of their voice.

One interesting, if not morbid, aspect about the Elf was his eyes. The right one was like the deep sea; calm and treacherous, unknowable and unending. The other one rivaled the largest lakes at the Realm of Mehrunes Dagon. Crimson like blood, hot like the flames of Oblivion and forever raging. Just staring at it drained Cyldreen of his bravery.

It's like staring at Death before receiving His most beautiful Kiss...

"Ah.. A breton.. I have been tempted to go to High Rock just to test your kind," his voice was gravelly due to Time's Touch, but it still held a sense of beauty; like a summer day in a forest, hiding its most fatal predators. Then, the necromancer's attention turned to the one beside Cyldreen.

The Khajiit.

[Dantrag]

Nelacar

Nelacar was surprised that his words were heeded, and no blood was shed. He wasn't sure what Riden's definition of a 'good opportunity' was, but it was better than nothing. Not questioning his good fortune, he plodded along with the others to bury the trader. In any other situation, though, he would not be so peaceful. The sight of the dead altmer put a sour taste in his mouth, and the knowledge of how it happened made him sick.

One of my own, killed by a pathetic human with no fair fight.

Nelacar rolled his eyes when Tess began to defend Riden, and wanted nothing more than to tell her that her husband was a worm, and not even worth the dirt he crawled in. But it was not the time.

"That is a conversation for another time, girl. You disrespect the dead when you speak of his murderer."

[saqin]

Sa'Quira

Following Cyldreen through the door the most blood shilling smell came upon me. My ears lay flat against my head and the hair on my back stood up before the full realization hit me. Wrong, evil and undead were only a few of the words that went through my head at that moment. When the word blood came up, my lips drew back I bared my teeth for a growl before I was able to stop it.

Looking around in the suddenly brighter room, I saw the door that where only a few paces away from us. The stench was more concentrated around it, and I nearly reached out to stop Cyldreen. But the breton was already at the door.

"Hunter, if I survive finding the roots I'm settling down as a hunter. Shouldn't ever have accepted the job in the first place." I muttered quietly when he kicked in the door, leaving me with little choice but to follow.

I drew in a deep breath when I saw the pile of skeletons and the table in the middle. They could not hold my attention for long however, and when I looked around I saw the dark shadow standing by the wall, even with night eye I could barely see him. Apart from the somewhat glowing eyes. I tried to step back from it, but found that my body was paralyzed.

"I see we have a visitor.. I bid you welcome, adventurers. It is not often old Vaerecor have some ... guests to entertain," I did the only thing I could when the altmer stepped forward, stood still.

"Ah.. A breton.. I have been tempted to go to High Rock just to test your kind," It spoke to Cyldreen, before turning to me. "And a khajiit. I'd think all of your kind would be following the mane at this time." I felt as if though I'd shiver. He looked at me with something that could almost resemble a smile.

[ureniashtram]

Cyldreen Mon'Cheri


The breton's breath stopped at his throat and all of his muscles stilled. Thoughts were blank and meaningless, emotions just obstacles in the way waiting to be broken. Conscience and reason held no point for him, and restraint was a poison, a forbidden fruit. Love was an imaginary belief, useful in some ways but always expendable. Good or evil were the makings of sacrosant and weak people, using those two as an excuse as a means to an end. Mercy was the deceiver and greatest liar of all, for those who lend 'mercy' are those of who are lesser stature, pawns of superior ones who didn't dare let 'mercy' go in the way of their goals and/or destiny. To clasp your wish is to be determined and emotionless, unrelenting and persistent. Like a landslide or a thunderstorm.

And what Cyldreen wanted was the necromancer in front of him to scream for mercy, and begging Cyldreen Mon'Cheri for restraint and peace when he's in the border of madness is comparable to a man wishing to be the Sun.

The Red Mist rosed and by this dark dawn rising in his mind, it overshadowed the spy's earlier fear, instantly taking its place along with never-ending hatred and barely contained rage. His iris shrank, sounds becoming mute to his ears and only the heaving breaths that he took was the only thing that entered the two chasm in his head.

"I will decorate this ancient walls with your entrails, weakling," his own voice was foreign, belonging to somewhere else but not in him. His tone was grating, like an axe scraping against razor or groups of teeth gnashing together to torment ears nearby with their uncomfortable sounds.

Then, without warning, Cyldreen sprang from his reverie and raised his axe for a slash, all the while howling like a frenzied Dremora. Vaerecor responded by sending some swarms of fire, balls of pure flame that exploded when it seared Cyldreen's armor. This further enraged the berserking Breton and he quickly closed the distance and sent his axe crushing down downwards, eager to split the Altmer's head in twain and make a river of brains and other gray matter.

When it did hit, it sent rumbling earthquakes on Cyldreen's arms and it nearly broke. Letting out a yell out of more-or-less anguish, the Breton struck again and again, and with each strike and collition at the barrier he ignored the lightning pain that it caused. Vaerecor relied on his Shield spell as he readied and charged a spike made of pure frost.

Finally, one strike sundered the spell completely and his axe buried deep on the mage's shoulder, netting a yelp of suprise and pain from the elf. Cyldreen laughed like a demon as he pulled his axe with blood spurting and staining his face, but one thing he missed was a fist frozen by magic heading for his jaw.
The force of the punch itself was not powerful, but the ice exploding sent severe anguish for Cyldreen. It didn't stagger him, but just enough for the necromancer to follow-up by spreading his palm in front of the dazed spy's face and muttering a lightning spell. That made Cyldreen stagger and cover his face in an attempt to ease the pain. By doing so, however, he was forced to drop his axe. The mage then raised his hands and by this he conjured up whatever magicka he had for a gigantic ball of chaotic energy.

Doing so however, disabled any spells he cast earlier on. Particulary, the paralyze spell pn Sa'Qin. The breton didn't notice it however, for the only thing that registered on his mind was hate.

"I will feast upon your intestines, elf!" the breton cursed as he ran without warning and tackled the Altmer to the bloodied ground, completely stopping the spell being thrown. The spy was the first to recover as he stood up and proceeded to stomp Vaerecor's head in. The mage anticipated this, for he grabbed Cyldreen's foot before it struck and sent his elbow against Cyldreen's knee. This made the man-mer lose balance, and land face-first beside the necromancer. Blood gushing forth from his nose, the breton shakily stood up before being flung to the wall by a lightning spell on his back. Once again, Cyldreen's face took the brunt of the damage, completely incacapating him.

OOC: The rest is all yours, S.

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Oct 9 2010, 08:24 PM

[jack cloudy]

Kaye Soscean OOC: I'm taking a few liberties here, ok? Feel free to hand out your objections, suggestions and comments so I can edit later on if needed.

Serene led them into the trade house which, at this early hour, was still empty. Being a small town where everyone knew and trusted each other, the old trader had found little need to replace the worn out lock on the equally worn out door and Kaye had opened it easily after giving it a few nudges with his foot. Silently, he thanked the now lost tranquility of the town. The macabre prospect of rummaging through Arille's pockets for a key had been something he'd feared.

"Take him upstairs. He usual...used to rent out a room to travelers in the back. You can put him on the bed." Serene instructed. Kaye stumbled up the stairs without a word. He lowered the Altmer onto the bed, folded his hands across his chest in what was the proper burial posture in his land of origin, then stepped back to let the woman start her preparations.

[DarkZerker]

Riden & Tess

Tess stared at the lifeless body of Arrile and for some reason, felt no regret. After 16 years of living with Riden, she learned to accept the daily and weekly deaths he did. But in any case, she still loved him and wanted to defend his right.

Riden looked from the stairwell and felt a bit of pride at seeing his work of art preserved like that. He didn't reveal himself but he knew that somebody probably heard him coming up the stairs.