Blood and Corruption, A Fan-Fiction Options

[mALX]

Sorry it has been so long lately. I've been busy with school and stuff. I'll try to post again soon.

That's all right Zalphon! Until you get into the swing of the new school year/homework/etc. it is better to make it a priority than all of us waiting from the cliffhanger you left us on !!!! JUST KIDDING !!!!!!

[Acadian]

Thanks, Z for checking in and letting us know what's going on. We'll wait, and you'll be back!

[Zalphon]

I'm also writing a short story for the school literary journal (an actual book of stories and stuff), it's called "Dementia." Once I finish, I'll post it for all who want to read. I want it to be at least 40 pages long.

Edit: But before I'm tarred and feathered, I'm only working on it at lunch and during my spare time at school!

This post has been edited by Zalphon: Sep 24 2010, 02:42 AM

[Zalphon]

Chapter Four: Discovery and Despair

The ghosts had their blades drawn. I looked around and the tallest Dunmer hissed, “What is it that you seek, Marauder?” Her voice was acid on steel, sizzling with rage from the intensity of the situation.

“I seek the location of Lord Fyr, I must speak to him.”

She laughed, “Divayth would never let us tell you of his journey.”

“Tell me or we’ll brandish blades,” I threatened. Attacking a specter? Not my most brilliant plan. She looked at me with a risen brow and handed me a scroll. It was musty and old, tied by a red ribbon.

I opened the ancient parchment and it read,

“Dearest Daughters,

I leave for Aldmeris on this day; I must discover the secrets of our ancestors. The ancient elves hold many secrets from mere mortals; however, they can’t hide from me. Guard my tower with your lives, for it is your home now.

Remember that it was once my home and it is now yours. My library is yours to research, my treasures are yours, but remember one day I may return. If the tower falls, then fall protecting it, for that is your task my daughters.

Sincerely,

Divayth Fyr”

The lady drew her blade, “Leave the tower and never return. You’ll never find our lord anyway.”

The Orc-Spirit led me to the door and there stood an Argonian and next to him laid a sleeping Khajiit. I handed Quick-Strike the scroll and he looked at it in amazement. “Aldmeris?”

“Yes, the land of the Aldmer, the ancient elves,” I stated. “We have to find it and stop Fyr, or else Nirn will be lost. If the land shatters, then I fear that Nirn will become a wasteland.”

“Aldmeris, how would we find that,” I asked myself mentally.

“You’re right,” The Argonian responded as he paced. “When dawn comes, we head for the seas and search for Aldmeris…”

A few weeks ago, I was a soldier of the Empire, now I’m a hero trying to stop Divayth Fyr from shattering Tamriel. My life is changing, a lot.

[mALX]

My fave part in this is the letter from Divayth Fyr - you did an Awesome job on that !!!!! Natural and very in character to him !!!!

[Acadian]

My goodness. This episode is some your finest writing, Zalphon. I'm amazed at how far you have come! Your opening paragraph is marvelous. I like that you are fully utilizing the first person POV to include your hero's observations to himself.

[Destri Melarg]

I agree with Acadian. All of this was good, but that first sentence: Her voice was acid on steel, sizzling with rage from the intensity of the situation . . . fantastic!

[Zalphon]

Thanks guys

[Zalphon]

Chapter Five: Aboard the Dragon’s Moon

I awoke in a captain’s cabin. I had a bed that was warm. Around me were books and chests. I took a step outside the cabin and the aroma of the sea hit me in the face, as well as the mystic winds of the ocean.

J’skooma was nowhere to be seen, but Quick-Strike stood by the side of the ship. He stared at the sea and whispered something. The sea was calm, yet the boat still moved. Animated oars moved freely to push the boat forward.

“So, you’re awake,” he said as I walked over to him. “Divayth hides in Aldmeris, but we must find him. Kalarn, when we reach Aldmeris you’re to stay close to me.”

“Why? I can fight Fyr, better than you can anyway,” I responded arrogantly. “Quick-Strike, my life has become much more confusing since I met you.”

The Argonian looked at me with an angry expression. Rare to see an Argonian show emotion, especially this one. “You must trust me, Dunmer. I have lived to see much more than you, I know Fyr’s power.”

Black flames surrounded us and instantaneously, we were teleported somewhere. But where? We saw a man in the Imperial City. He was covered in black clothing, black robes, a black hood, black boots, and even black gloves. “The Master has been reborn, all shall fall before his might,” the man yelled. “You shall all become mere thralls to him.”

He pulled out a Dunmer’s head; he held it by a white top-knot. Quick-Strike whispered, “Fyr’s head.”

“The beginning of the end is coming, mortals. Nirn shall see a new ruler, the Rise of the Master is just beginning,” the Harbinger screamed. People were stunned as they watched him.

The man whispered under his breath and disappeared in Black Flame. I fell to the ground and then everything went black as I hit it…

[Acadian]

Poor QS. His young charges never seem to learn. . . .

Methinks I smell necromancy afoot!

[Destri Melarg]

It seems that Quick-Strike has overestimated Divayth’s power by a tad . . .

The good news is that at least they no longer need to make the trip to Aldmeris!

[Zalphon]

Divayth Fyr, we knew you well... You cured our corprus, made us cry, and let us steal your booty.

I really hated killing him off, but he's got a lot more to do with this story... At least he's gone, right?

[mALX]

I'm in tears over poor Divayth's head...GAAAAH!

[Zalphon]

Chapter Six: Knight-Captain Raynil Sarethi

I awoke in a small shack. A cold breeze blew against my bare chest as I sat up. The cold, dirt floor was just as bitter as the winds. “You awaken,” Quick-Strike stated after a moment. “You’ve been asleep for three nights, ever since that follower of their Master arrived.”

“Why are we in some shack?” I questioned. “What’s wrong?” My voice was inquisitive and probing, but I needed to be. I was so stressed, my muscles were tightened.

“We still don’t know who the Master is,” Quick-Strike stated. “However, his followers have been attacking Morrowind. The Imperial Legion has already been exterminated from Vvardenfell.”

I raised a brow coolly, “How?”

Quick-Strike’s voice was gloomy, “I don’t know, yet. But we need to make haste before the sun rises.”

I nodded and donned my armor. The heavy plate mail was restrictive for a few moments, but I quickly adjusted. We walked for several hours, until we saw a fort, however, it wasn’t abandoned. Armed knights patrolled and archers lined the walls.

A woman in black clothing walked out. She wore a black tunic, black pants, black boots, black gloves, a black cloak with a hood, and a black face mask. “Leave or be slain, Mortal,” she hissed. Her voice was as sharp as a sword.

“What is a private army doing with a fort?” I asked curiously. “Who funded you?”

She pulled out her blades, two short swords, both blacker than night. Quick-Strike’s blades lunged at her, cutting into her breast. “Not bad, Argonian,” she moaned. One of her daggers struck Quick-Strike’s side, leaving him in anguish.

Out came a pale skinned dark elf. He was taller than other dark elves and was clad in black armor trimmed with gray. Behind him flowed an elegant black cloak a white trim. His hair was long and black.

“Stop it, Scout,” he ordered. His voice was raspy, but firm. Instantly she backed away and sheathed her blades. She turned around and started walking towards the fortress.

“I am Knight-Captain Raynil Sarethi, remove yourself or I’ll slay you in the name of the Master,” he threatened. He was calm, but ready to kill. J’skooma took a step back, as did I.

“Who is the Master?” Quick-Strike demanded. “He has sent his men to assault the Septim Empire, so who is he?”
“Men, kill them,” he shouted.

The knights drew their blades, the archers strung their bows, the scouts drew their daggers. I gulped nervously…

[mALX]

Your writing feels natural, I saw several places I could quote. This story is really coming along strongly, I am loving it !!!

[Acadian]

A rather dire situation here. . . gulp indeed! I agree with mALX. Your use of actions to imply emotions is good.


From Chapter 5:

He was covered in black clothing, black robes, a black hood, black boots, and even black gloves.

From Chapter 6:

A woman in black clothing walked out. She wore a black tunic, black pants, black boots, black gloves, a black cloak with a hood, and a black face mask.

If you are trying to emphasize the color, I suggest you actually emphasize it rather than repeating it so much. Perhaps something like, 'From hood to boots, he was dressed in black - as dark as the inside of a long buried coffin.'
Just a thought.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 9 2010, 03:38 AM

[Zalphon]

Good point, Acadian. And Malx, I'm glad you're enjoying it.

[Zalphon]

Chapter Seven: The Transformation

I stood there tensely, not making a move. I scanned the situation, hoping there was something I could do. A darkly-clad scout walked up to me and pressed her short sword against my throat. “Come with me, Elder T’then would like to see you and it’s best not to displease the elders,” she whispered in my ear.

Her voice was soft and gentle, like that of a Breton. Quick-Strike looked at me and noticed that the girl had me. He simply nodded as I was pulled into the Fort. I had a feeling he had a plan.

Knights looked at me and glared as we walked down the dark corridors of the fort. Finally we reached a large room in the center. On the walls were sconces giving off a minimal amount of light.

A Dark Elf looked at me. His eyes were old and wizened, showing he had lived a long life. However his body wasn’t much older than mine, although it was paler like the rest of the denizens. “The Argonian and the Khajiit, place them inside the dungeon, Scout,” he ordered. His voice was sharp.

“You are Kalarn Dralas I presume?” He asked. His voice was made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but not near as much as his eyes. It was as if he was peering into my very soul.

“Yes, I’m Kalarn Dralas, and you are Elder T’then I assume?” I responded. “Why am I here and not my companions?” I was curious about what had happened to them, we had only known each other for less than a month, yet they were friends nonetheless.

The Mer nodded after a moment. He walked over to me and I could see him better. T’then stood up and stated, “Lord Varan, perform the ritual on our guest.” A black-robed Altmer looked at me, four Bretons walked over, in similar clothing.

One of the Bretons muttered under his breath and everything went black. When I awoke, I was shackled to a cold, stone table. It smelled like decay and rot in here. I tried to speak, but when I did, I realized I couldn’t.

The Altmer looked into my eyes and whispered, “Soon you shall be a Child of the Master.” He muttered under his breath and touched his hand against my bare chest. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.

The anguish was so intense and indescribable. He muttered more and his hand burned like acid that was biting through my flesh. I felt my chest splitting in two, however it wasn’t.

Tears ran down my face, then everything went black as a sudden bolt of agony shot through my body.

[mALX]

Your timing, descriptions, dialogue - everything in this chapter is perfect! Riveting !!!!!

[Zalphon]

Good news, guys! Oblivion's Edge is going to get published in my school literary journal! I'm officially going to be a published author! Well I will be once I submit it, heh, but most of the stories have zero-plot.