| An Alyeid Investigation of Dark Intent | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 27 2011, 07:20 PM (303 Views) | |
| Knows-Many-Secrets | Nov 27 2011, 07:20 PM Post #1 |
|
Knows-Many-Secrets smoothly entered the library of the old Mage’s Guild chapter, red eyes gleaming with the possibilities of what he might read today. He moved quickly across the room, knee by now feeling much better than it had in past days, and made his way before the far bookshelf. So caught up in his eager pursuit of knowledge Secrets was that he hadn’t even noticed there was another man in the room. A high elf in elegant robes of a high ranking Mage’s Guild member also perused the small collection of tomes the guild had to offer. After only a few passing moments the altmer spoke with a low, condescending tone. “I thought I heard something slither in. However, your timing is rather convenient. I happen to have a job for you that you may find rather comforting.” Secrets tensed beneath his thick robes, his cold, reptilian eyes sliding to give the mage a sidelong glance. “Oh, you don’t say?” He responded in his usual tone, only a hint of disdain trickling in the tinge of his voice. Secrets knew this man, he was a visiting member of the Arcane University here on business. A High Elf with a very low view on the argonians that inhabited most of this chapter. And the resentment was very much mutual. “We have just gotten reports from a solid source that there they have discovered an old Ayleids ruins. There seems to be some activity in the area of men in black robes traveling in and out of the ruins carrying stones. I want you to make your way there, find and secure any material that appears to hold--" he appears to muffle a dry chuckle," --any...secrets." Secrets let out a forced laugh and a weak smile in response. “Ah ha… Good one sir..” He replied, trying his very best to appear genuine. The altmer reached into his robe sleeve, pulled out a small coin purse and tossed it to Knows-Many-Secrets. "Use that to hire help once you are up there if you are unable to bring the material back by yourself. I'm sure the dark, damp ruins will remind you of home. You lizard folk do live under rocks don't you?" he asks with a sneer. "Now be off. We cannot allow for other people to obtain those secrets.” Secrets caught the coin purse with a nod, pocketing it in his side bag. “Of coursse. I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry.” Secrets replied, dipping down into a low bow before exiting the room. It wasn’t long until he made his way down the stairs and out the door. There was a light rain coming down from the sky today, though nothing hard enough to even warrant the argonian to look up. After checking his person for his sword, bow, and arrow quiver he gave himself an affirmative nod before drawing his robes’ hood over his head, protecting himself from the cool rain. With only a few days rations in his side bag and his weaponry on hand, he made his way out of the city, heading down the long, windy path north east. The few hours he walked were relatively uneventful, the rain coming down calmly, though Secrets could hear the rumbles of thunder in the distance. The weather wouldn’t remain fair for very long. And he didn’t want to get caught in a storm out here in the wilderness. Fallen branches were fairly common during storms with the looming tree canopy so thick with wood and leaves, and some of the more aggressive fish tended to come closer to the surface during the rain. Although the trail we walked on was dry now, he knew the moment the rains came in it’d get washed away and reclaimed by the bog. And even for an argonian like himself, wading through even knee deep water in Black Marsh was dangerous. Especially deeper into the swamps. It wasn’t long until he found a thick tree with it’s bow spread wide, forming an oval shaped cave indented into the foliage. Climbing down under the tree he brought his knees to his chest, cold from the rain but thankful for the brief relief from the elements. He dared not light a fire, for the flesh flies of the marshes were a constant, maddening annoyance for his kind, though not fatal as they are to the soft skinned men and mer that often came here to explore. His eyes closed, a sense of calm overtaking him as he allowed himself to drift off to sleep. A risk he only took knowing the storm would keep most of the land based predators underwater or in their lairs. At least for now. Upon awakening it was early in the morning, the rain still coming down, but the storm had passed. The sun was beginning to rise, meaning the most dangerous predators were moving into their burrows for the day, or had already fed and were busy soaking up what little sun they could. One benefit of living in a reptile dominated land was all the creatures were fairly regular in their daily schedules. Secrets rose to his feet, dusting the back of his robes off before stepping into the dim sunlight. “Ahh, much better.” He exclaimed, not even caring about the mild rain. As he continued down his way he was careful not to make any noise beyond the tapping of his feet against the muddy ground and slashing of disturbed waters. Sure enough the storm had flooded the road, leaning the water just above his ankles in depth. Luckily it was not nearly as bad as he suspected, and his robes already being soaking wet didn’t bother him in the least. After another few hours the argonian had waded through increasingly deepening waters, now up to his knees, his robes heavy from the soaked in waters. For once he found himself wishing he had just made the journey naked. At least his scales wouldn’t soak in water and weigh him down. And it’s not like he needed the extra protection. It wasn’t long before he came to a stop, eyes set on the suddenly dark waters ahead of him and what looked to be the tattered remnants of a bridge, no doubt swept away in last night’s storm as all Imperial made things do. Suddenly the argonian heard two large splashes of water behind him. The water shaking and rippling wildly about as two figures rapidly approached the argonian mage. Turning around with wide eyes Secrets saw two tall figures rushing him. A dunmer and orc duo in old, ragged prison clothes, no doubt recent escapees from the Thorn, the largest prison in the Empire. And now they were trying their luck as bandits in a foreign land, completely unaware of the dangers attacking anything in these swamps held. Knows-Many-Secrets narrowed his reptilian eyes, already having made up his mind to show them the severity of their error. Holding out a scaled hand, the argonian let out a hissing series of spell words, his hand coming alight and firing a burst of red that collided with the charging orc. The dunmer’s eyes widened as he turned to see if his friend had been cut down by the spell, yet surprise took hold as the orc stood, unaffected. With a snide smirk the dunmer turned back to secrets, calling out wildly. “So much for your magic, lizard! Hand over any valuables bef-” His words were soon cut short as he felt the massive hand of the orc clench around the back of his neck. His ally’s eyes alight with a blood red glow and face contorted into the snarl of an enraged monster. Panic swept over the poor dark elf bandit as he dropped his weapon, struggling frantically and grasping at the massive, green hand that lifted him off his feet with ease. He could feel his lungs beginning to flounder without air, the clenching fist crushing his thin wind pipe. His head swimming with pain, fear, and the sense of utter betrayal before finally feeling the sharp sting of his companion’s blade as it delved into his back and twisted. The dark elf’s body hit the water with a splash, it’s body leading red out into the dark waters he lay in. The orc’s eyes widened with the realization of what he’s done, the intense rage filling every fiber of his being. “No! Draleth! My friend…” He called out, turning his blood red eyes on the argonian. “I’ll KILL YOU!” He roared, stampeding for the mage in dark green robes, his bloodied sword glistening under the thin rays of sunlight peeking out from behind the trees. The argonian didn’t seem concerned, his cold eyes set on the charging orc. Just as the beast came down upon him Secrets ducked down, narrowly avoiding the sword swing, and sidestepped the orc. Shifting his leg out to trip the charging behemoth and letting him collapse into the deep water. Whirling around Knows-Many-Secrets spoke a few hissing words, hand extended toward the orc just as he resurfaced. With a flash of orange light flames shot out from his palm, rushing over the orc’s exposed face just as he inhaled. With a suffocated, smothered gasp of a scream the orc floundered, sinking down into the water clutching his face and chest madly. The fire hand seared his skin, but worst of all, it had been sucked in when he took his surfacing breath, burning the throat and lungs. The pain was immeasurable, and unable to concentrate on swimming or holding his breath as gallons of murky water flooded his lungs, bringing the orc to his final end by way of drowning with in a mixture of his own burnt flesh and bloodied water. Secrets lowered his hand to his side, slowly walking into the water until he was about waist deep. Dipping down he kicked off, gliding effortlessly through the small river before making his way to the other side. Climbing out of the river he calmly wiped some of the excess water from his robes before continuing on. Not bothering to look back at the two men he left dead in the water. The marsh would take care of the corpses for him in time. After all, everything in Black Marsh fades away eventually. There are no exceptions. The next few hours were largely uneventful, the birds and animals of the marsh seeming to come out only a sparse few times over the course of the journey. Soon enough he came upon a small tribal village of argonians, their homes mostly built into suspended huts on the thick tree branches above. Their scales were almost uniformly a dark brown color, all eyes set on the strange newcomer. It was only a half hour’s walk from here to the ruins, and these seemed as good a people as any to hire for the difficult task of moving the tablets and other valuables. And in the marshes one could only guess how long it’d be before he ran into another settlement that wasn’t Imperial run. Although the Empire still ruled these lands by technicality few of the argonian natives accepted this, and Knows-Many-Secrets more than resented the idea of his homeland being the slave of another. Holding the soggy bag of coins up in the air and gave it a little shake, the ringing of coins bringing the attention of all the argonians. Although these people seemed too uncivilized to have had much dealings with the Empire, they still clearly understood the value of Imperial currency. Calling out in his native tongue jel, Secrets spoke. “It seems I am of need of assistance, brothers of the root. Anyone who would like to make a quick bit of coin should consider joining me on my peaceful expedition. I assure you, the pay will be adequate.” The argonians stared at Secrets for a short while, many seeming to be weighing their options of joining and earning the pay or simply attacking the argonian. From the looks in their collective eyes this was a very difficult decision. After all, they did outnumber him by a large number. But they were armed with only wooden spears and a few poorly crafted bows. Secrets had a well made bow and a myriad of metallic arrows, along with a high quality sword visible on his hip. And perhaps more daunting was that Secrets wore the recognizable robes of a mage, and any creature capable of thought knew it was best not to test the skill of a caster you’re unfamiliar with. Finally the oldest of the argonians stepped forward, brown skinned like the others but with two large horns curling inward on either side of his head and a ring of brass settled around the left. He spoke in a strangely deep voice for an argonian, and naturally in the argonian language. “What is it exactly you’d ask for us to assist with, saxhleel?” Secrets greeted the argonian chieftain with a bow of respect, eyes lowered to the ground in a submissive posture. “I am a… shaman.” Secrets said, knowing full well such a tribal society wouldn’t understand the word for mage as anything separate from a religious leader. “And there are ancient ruins just ahead that I am tasked by my allies to investigate. I must claim any wisdom I can from what is down there, and bring it back to my allies. I will compensate of course.” “I understand.” The chieftain replied with a knowing nod, a hand moving to his scaled chin. “I will give you four men to carry your burden for the gold.” He said finally, extending his hand. Secrets nodded in understanding, handing the bag of coin to the argonian before him. The chieftain let out a loud clicking noise as four argonian men stepped forward. Each one of a stockier build than Secrets himself and very finely built. They, like the rest of the village, wore only loin cloths and a few straps of leather for holding things, and the horns on their heads were adorned with brass and gold rings like the chieftain himself. “San-doo, Fingral, Dor-Doa, and Hamu-Musa. They will assist you, shaman.” Knows-Many-Secrets bowed again to the Chieftain in thanks, as well as to the three warriors that had been chosen for the task. The four pounded their chests honorably, signifying their readiness for the mission. If there was one admirable trait about his kind, Secrets thought, it was their infallible loyalty and sense of duty to their tribe. The ground made it to the ruins in good time, the other argonians already familiar with the layout of the local marshes and able to show Secrets a more clear shortcut. Finally they moved out from a break in the trees, the bright sunlight shining down hard on the sandy beaches, drying the soaked argonians with it’s warmth. And sure enough there it was, the ancient Alyeid ruins. Large, stone white structures sticking out of the gray sands in the farm of tall, overgrown pillars and a half buried statue of some elven goddess. In the center of the four pillars seemed to be a big hole with an Imperial guard in front of it, no doubt the ruin’s entrance that had previously been unknown. Waving his hand for the four argonians to take a rest, Secrets walked along the beach, his cold feet immediately bathed in the radiant heat of the warm sand. Though the comfort was short lived as the Imperial soldier spotted the argonian, turning to approach. Greeting the soldier with a bow of respect the mage began to speak, only for his words to be cut short with the metallic sound of a blade leaving it’s sheath. “Get Away from here lizard. There’s nothing for you in this place!” The guard insisted, his steel sword pointing toward the green scaled argonian. Upon closer inspection the guard’s armor was very poorly repaired. Dents and cuts littered the dark grey surface, along with spots of obvious rust. “I was just sent here by the Mage’s guild.” Secrets spoke, holding his hands up to show he wasn’t drawing his weapon, his eyes filled with surprise. “Honesst. I’m here on official duty.” “Enough! Just forget what you came here for and leave, filth.” The other argonians turned their attention to the confrontation, eyes narrowing as they sensed danger. Secrets turned a glance back to them for only a moment before waving them off, not wanting a confrontation. But as he turned back he saw the Imperial’s sword sing through the air, Secrets just barely jerking his head back to avoid a fatal blow. “Hey! Careful with that!” Secrets said, backing away as he tried to assess the situation. But the Imperial didn’t show signs of halting his attacks, swinging his blade wildly in a mad attempt to cut down the foolish argonian. Finally stopping his assault, partially out of breath from his vigorous attacks, the Imperial spoke again. “Get out of here. Now. I swear by the Divines if you so much as breath a word of this I’ll find and gut you like a fish, got it?” Secrets pondered his options, eyes narrowly into two slits of blood red. He considered doing as told, simply leaving and telling that smug altmer that the mission was too dangerous for one man. But still, there was just something about the Imperial’s demeanor. His commands… Secrets didn’t like to be given commands. Brandishing his silver blade from it’s scabbard Secrets lashed out, the soldier barely managing to block the sudden strike. The pair danced, swinging and clashing blades to the rhythm of battle. The soldier’s brutish, direct strikes failing to catch the agile argonian, who lashed out and struck against the heavy armor with an ever increasing annoyance for the metal plating. “Filth!” The guard roared, swinging his blade in a wide swipe, the argonian ducking down under the blow with a snarl. Swinging his arm his Secrets’ silver blade’s very tip cutting through the Imperial’s cheek. As the former legionnaire stumbled back, raising his wrist to wipe the blood from his cheek, the argonian leapt forward. Effortlessly landing on the Imperial’s back and sliding his silver blade under his chin, slashing the throat and rolling off in a single, swift movement. Blood spilled from the Imperial’s throat, seeping into the sands below as he came to his knees hard. Sword dropping frown his hand as he started to wildly grasp at his throat. Yet the blood loss was too great, and the former soldier finally feel face first into the blood-stained sand. Lifeless. Secrets turned about, stepping over toward the soldier and kneeling down low, as if he were about to pray. Yet instead he simply wiped the blood from his sword using the Imperial’s hair before sheathing it safely in his black scabbard. Rising again to his feet he turned toward the ruins, eyes narrowed into two slits of red glaring out in contemplation. “Hamu-Musa…” He said finally, addressing one of his argonian laborers. “Take this man’s bow and arrows. I want you to watch the area and kill anyone who leaves the ruins but me. The rest of you I want to strip him of his armor. It could be useful to some merchant who deals in steel.” The other argonians nodded to his commands, many wearing the faint signs of amusement and respect on their reptilian faces, hard as it was to tell. They immediately went to work stripping the dead man of his gear, and equipping the bow as their commander requested. Secrets in turn began to strip himself of his outer robes. Letting them fall to the sands in a pile of dark green cloth. The sun shined down on his now mostly naked body, dark green scales shimmering in the golden sun’s rays. His only clothing was a folded cloth wrapped around his lower body in the form of a loincloth, similar to the ones worn by his brethren. “I’m going in. No one else follow.” He called back, starting on his way to the ruins with only his bow, arrows, and sword. The last thing his argonian followers saw were the dark green scales of his back, and the dark red scars that decorated it. Secrets moved down into the ruins, climbing the stairs along the dark path. He kept low, making sure he didn’t make any unnecessary sounds, guided by the dim glow of the magical stones that seemed to litter the walls and floor. Slowly the argonian mage moved along the narrow corridors, magically lit by the Alyeid’s light stones as most ruins were. His dark scales blended perfectly with the shadowy corners of the halls as he snaked around, eyes constantly alert for whatever else was down here. Men in black robes, the mage had said, were seen nearby. And black robes almost always meant one thing: Necromancers. Moving further down the wide halls the argonian could hear the faint echoes of conversation. Two people speaking to one another somewhere down the hall, possibly in the very next room. Calming his breath, Secrets continued on down the hall. The voices growing ever louder until he could faintly make out what they were saying. Still, he moved closer. Coming to the end of the fall and peering over the corner. The coast was clear, and the room opened into a wide space with four walls jetting out of the side walls, a decent sized path right down the center. The pair seemed to be speaking between two of the left walls, one a few feet from the argonian mage. Moving in closer so he sat just on the other side of the stone wall from the pair, the argonian listened in. “Did you get the tablets from the lower tomb?” Came the voice of a fairly young elven man. “Yes, I was able to get the last of them. And it wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that! They had some sort of magical trap.” Replied the second voice, this one belonging to a very young Breton girl, no older than seventeen from the sound of it. “Ah, excellent! I’ve almost finished deciphering the first few you brought up. Unfortunately my alyeidoon is a bit rusty… If only we could’ve taken a few books from the Mage’s Guild before we were expelled.” The altmer said with a heavy sigh. The Breton didn’t respond right away, pausing before speaking up in a sad tone. “I… I miss him.” “Don’t speak of him!” The male demanded. “Just.. Look. He’s gone. We tried to bring him back… There’s nothing we can do. It’s a lost hope.” “I know… It’s just.” She started, but stopped. Again going silent for a long moment. “I’m.. Sorry. I know you miss him. But if we didn’t.. Do what we did… He was going to hurt you!” The altmer insisted, his voice elevating with a sense of importance. “And we tried to fix it. We really did. We just didn’t have the skill.” “I… I don’t think he wanted to hurt me.” The Breton replied meekly. “He loved me…” “No, we’ve been over this. He didn’t love you.. Not like I do. And when he found us together well… What we did was self defense!” “I know. I know…” The Breton woman said softly, followed by a sad sigh. “I know you love me… I know you’d do anything to protect me… Right?” “Of course.” He responded. Secrets could hear the sounds of them stepping together, followed by the soft sound of their lips parting in a tender kiss. “Now why don’t you head downstairs and get some sleep? You’ve been working terribly hard, my love.” “Well… Alright. Just be sure to finish up soon and come join me.” She replied in a sweet, seductive tone. Soon the argonian could hear her light footsteps moving off further down the room and into the opposite hall. Once her steps went silent he knew she was out of ear shot, and his time to act was near. “Well, back to work I suppose.” Said the altmer. His footsteps quickly coming near the corner. Secrets jumped up the wall, grabbing the top corner and quickly pulling himself up just as the altmer turned the corner, and rolling down to land silently on the other side of the wall. As he heard the necromancer’s steps fade into the distance he began to move out, sneaking around the corner and following his altmer target down the hall. Secrets tailed the necromancer down the narrow corridors of the ancient ruins, careful to keep his distance so the altmer wouldn’t notice another presence in the halls. Eventually he lead his shadowing argonian to a small room lit with candles. There was a small bookshelf on the side wall, along with a desk covered in parchment and research notes, and three stone tablets leaning against the ruin walls, each one roughly two feet tall and half a foot wide with Alyeid carvings etched into them. The altmer sat down at his desk, sorting through his research notes. Suddenly he stopped, seeing a large, looming shadow on the wall before him. The argonian having moved, unknowingly, in front of one of the many glowing crystals on the wall. Secrets realized his mistake almost instantly, but it was too late. The altmer whirled around, hand rippling with electric power and the words of a spell on his lips. Secrets quickly ducked to the side as a steam of lightning erupted from the necromancer’s hand, thunderous booms rippling out as the sparks strike against the stone wall. “Who are you!? How did you get past the guard?” The altmer called out, quickly rising from his seat and casting another spell. A heavy wisp of a sound ripped through the air, followed by the shambling sound of something coming around the corner. Taking his bow down from around his torso, Secrets readied it in his left arm. His right hand smoldering with a fiery energy. With a few quick words of power he thrust his hand forward, a jet of yellow flame cascading through the air just as an animated skeleton turned the corner. The fire rushing over it’s form and turning the white bones blackened and charred. With an otherworldly hiss the skeleton fell back, waving it’s sword wildly in the fire stream. Finally lowering his hand the argonian moved to draw an arrow, the flames dissipating as if they had never existed, the only evidence a spell had been cast being the now blackened bones of the skeletal abomination. Drawing the arrow back the argonian mage let it fly, striking the undead monstrosity dead in the mouth, the arrow grinding between it’s teeth and lodging itself firmly in the back of the lower skull. Yet it didn’t let up, quickly shrugging off the arrow shot and beginning to charge. A second arrow corrected his mistake, flying off to hit the construct square in the knee joint, the kneecap popping off and leg dislocating itself. Just as the skeleton fell to one knee the altmer came out from his room, a spell of fire on his lips. In the narrow halls the argonian had no room to dodge. No room that was, except up. Bounding forward he kicked off the crumbling skeleton’s body, rising high over the blast of fire with arrow already strung up in the bow. Letting it loose as he sailed through the air, the arrow shot down into the altmer’s shoulder. The metal head imbedding itself deeply in his flesh. With a cry of pain the fires extinguished almost as quickly as they had spawned, Secrets descending down to land with a roll, ending on one knee in front of his necromantic enemy. The altmer’s eyes widened with horror as he drew back, the argonian’s silver blade leaving it’s sheath in a flash of reflected light. The argonian’s blade sang across the high elf’s chest, his robes torn and a streak of red cascading from his flesh. Yet the wound was only skin deep, and the elf came in retaliation with a new spell. His hand alight in crackling sparks, only for it to be slapped away at the wrist by the argonian’s bow. Whirling around Secrets found himself back to back with the altmer necromancer, his silver blade impeded deeply in his mid back. His bow rising up over the necromancer’s chin to slip over his head and neck. Secrets pulled hard on the bow, it’s string cutting into the altmer’s neck and closing off his wind pipe, his struggled, gurgling cries cut short as he frantically gripped at the thin string. The silver blade in his back digging ever deeper, burying itself in his torso until the very tip peaked out from his sternum. In time, the altmer’s body went lifeless. And he fell down dead. The young Breton woman was asleep in one of the lower rooms, the thin metal gate closed shut and room’s lights extinguished. The room was mostly empty, save for the two person bedroll in the room’s very center and a dimly lit candle that gave off just enough light to see beside the bed. Though she had hoped her lover would come to bed with her shortly, the fatigue of the day’s duties was heavy upon her, and she soon found herself fast asleep. A calm, dreamless sleep that was easily broken, but by what she wasn’t sure. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, vision blurred and unfocused as they tried to take in the dimly lit sight before her. With a soft, cute squeak of a morning yawn she stretched her legs, lifting her head just slightly as her vision came back to her. She could plainly see a large, dark figure sitting beside her bed. Curiously she rubbed her eyes, hoping to cure them of their temporary lapse in ability. Once again she looked to the object, it’s form rapidly coming into focus. It’s circular shape first to take form, followed by the outlines of hair that coasted most of it. Then the outlines of ears and a nose… And eyes. The Breton woman screamed on the top of her lungs, all but leaping to an upright position, hugging her knees to her breasts tightly. “No! It- It can’t!” She screamed, whole body trembling with an intense fear. Her eyes watered, throat balling up as she tried not to cry. For the figure sitting beside her bed was none other than the severed head of her altmer lover. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like my present?” Came a distinctly argonian voice, but from where the young Breton could only guess. Her sobs grew more intense as a shiver ran up her spine. Her breath quickening and heart racing more and more with every word from the mysterious figure. “I hear that dropping a dead rat’s severed head at your bedside is a token of affection in khajiit culture.” The voice said, followed by a sudden chuckle. “Aha! Ah… Get it? Because khajiit are cats. Classic.” “S-stop! Stop!” She cried, tears falling down her cheeks as she mumbled words of power. Her frail hand igniting in a sudden surge of electricity, lashing out in a sustained bolt that lit up the entire room for but a second. The bolt striking the empty stone wall before dispersing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the brief flicker of what looked to be a reptilian shadow. With a scream of rage she turned quickly, aiming another bolt to crackle down upon the empty floor where the figure once was. But again it was empty, the figure now on the other side of the room. Quickly pushing herself to her knees the Breton woman wailed out, calling upon her magical forces to send both hands alight in bursts of lightning. Each time striking at the shadowy figment only to miss. Just as she was about to call upon another bolt she felt a vicious sting rip through her left shoulder, eyes widening as she saw a long arrow shaft sticking out from his body. “Oh what thunderous applause. Ah ha.. Heh… Get it? Thunder. Lightning… Oh, I crack myself up.” The voice said, holding back his laughter. As the girl writhed in pain the shadowed figure stepped into the light of the small candle, his tall, muscled figure looming over the young girl. She began muttering what sounded like a spell, but was cut short as the figure moved his foot to push on the side of the arrow’s shaft, wedging it inside her. He spoke again, her screams of agony almost drowning out his words. “Now now, no need for anymore spells sweetheart. I just want to assk a few questions. If you cooperate, you may live.” The Breton girl whimpered desperately, hand grasping at his ankle to try and shove the argonian from her, but to no avail. “Please… Stop…” She whined. “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that… I just wanted to ask a few questionss…” The argonian said, his bow still firmly held in hand. “As I was coming here on a mission from the Mage’ss Guild, you can imagine my surprise when I find two young casterss. Dressed in black robes… And before that an extraordinarily rude imperial guard. At least he seemed to be one. Honestly, I had my doubts. When I told him of my duty he told me to turn away. Very aggressively too, I might add. And then he attacked me without provocation. I don’t know about you, but when I get attacked without provocation, I get very angry…” He said lowly, coming down to one knee so he was more on her level, his free hand idly moving to flick the arrow’s shaft, sending a jolt of pain through her shoulder. “So my question to you iss simple. Who ssent you down here, and why?” The sobbing girl look in a few quick, broken breaths. Her mind awash with pain and fear, and the pools of tears in her light blue eyes reflected that fully. “I… No… Please… Don’t make me-” Her words were cut short as the argonian gripped the shaft, twisting his arrow deeper and deeper into her bloodied flesh. “Don’t make you what? Betray your boyfriend? I’m afraid that’s the least of his concerns right now. In fact, I’d say he’s pretty care free.” “I…” She stopped, eyes closing tight to try and fight back the tears that overflowed. Now that the rush of adrenaline was fading she could feel her own fatigue, both physically and spiritually. All those stray bolts of lightning had rapidly drained her reserves, impressive as they were. And her mind had been so filled with fear and sorrow that she didn’t even consider casting a light spell to find his assailant. Silently she cursed herself for her own lack of battle experience, ultimately resigning herself to do as he wished. “It was a member of the m-Mage’s Guild… We weren’t sure who.. He always… Always wrote to us with letters. And kept his hood down when we met in person the first time…” “And what did he wants?” Secrets asked, red eyes set on the girl with an intense curiosity. “He wanted us t-to..” She started, letting out a pained whimper. “He wanted us to come here. And study the tablets for him… They were guarded… And he couldn’t risk being seen…” “I ssee… What value were the tablets to him?” Secrets asked. “I don’t know… He never told us. And I didn’t.. I couldn’t read the tablets myself… That was.. Was..” She whined, water-filled eyes glancing down toward the severed head beside her bed. “I see… Guess I killed the wrong rat.” Secrets replied with a cruel, fanged grin. His rows of long, carnivorous teeth shimmering in the candle’s light. A shadowed hand moving down to rest on the hilt of his black scabbard. “Then what usse are you, then?” The Breton began to panic, eyes darting back and forth from the argonian’s scabbard and his face with a pleading look. “N-no! I… Ah! The notes! He kept notes. In his study. There should be letters there too!” A smile broke across the argonian’s leathery face, his white fangs glimmering in the candle’s light, though his smile could easily be mistaken for a snarl. “Excellent… Thank you sweetheart. You’ve been very forthcoming. Ah, alas if we had not met under such circumstancess… We might’ve gotten along.” “What are you going… To do to me?” She asked finally, her voice cracked and weak from the blood loss. “Since you have been so cooperative… I will do you a sservice.” The argonian said, leaning down so his eyes were locked with hers. “I shall deliver you to your lover… Whichever one that may be.” Before she could let out a scream he silenced her, his silver blade tearing across her throat. With the deed done Knows-Many-Secrets walked back up to the study room where he had killed the altmer, carelessly stepping over the headless corpse to enter the room. Quietly he walked across the stone floor and sat down in front of the desk, eyeing the various parchments and scrolls that had been scattered about. He knew he had a lot of research ahead of him, but he didn’t mind. There were more secrets that needed to be uncovered, and the idea that these murderous necromancers had been hired by a member of the Mage’s Guild was disturbing. Even more so than the man that sent him had no knowledge of all this. Or at least acted as though he didn’t. Over the next couple of hours the argonian poured over the tomes and scrolls, reading letters and examining the research notes. He would find the secrets these necromancers were keeping from him, even in death. Edited by Knows-Many-Secrets, Nov 27 2011, 07:48 PM.
|
![]() |
|
| Knows-Many-Secrets | Nov 29 2011, 08:29 AM Post #2 |
|
It wasn’t long into his research before Secrets came upon a very specific letter. One addressed to the altmer necromancer that he had killed in front of this very room. The letter was worn with a few burn marks that made reading it difficult, but it gave a few interesting clues as to what was going on here. My Dear Children, I am well aware of your situations, and what you two have done. We go to great lengths to correct our mistakes, and even further to protect those that we love. You both had the right idea, you just needed a little more guidance. Alas, do not cry tears of despair, I may have some key information you were lacking with this you two should have no problem bringing your victim back to life. Or better yet, it will make it so you will never lose a loved one again! Imagine, immortal love! My research has proven promising I have been experimenting with black soul gems --- *The letter has a gap missing were the fire has spread* --once you two have collected all of the data off the tablets, make your way down to Blackrose with your body guard, and meet me in The Dirty Maiden, it once was an inn, in the Northern section of the city. Knock twice on the door, and when asked “What does the father offer to all his children?” you will respond --*This ends the letter as the rest is now amongst the pile of ashes.* “Hrmm..” Secrets pondered, eyes scouring the letter for any hint of clues as to what this all was about. Black soul gems and magics that tampered with souls were bad news, and fell well within grounds for expulsion from the Mage’s Guild. And given these two had murdered a member, there was a good chance whoever this man was giving them instructions wasn’t a very reputable character. “What does the father offer to all his children?” Secrets questioned, a hand moving to lightly stroke his scaled chin. Suddenly he heard the light padded steps of someone entering the ruins and moving down the hall. Tensing, a hand moved down to rest on the hilt of his sword, eyes on the letter before him but mind focused solely on the approaching figure. “Sir.” Came an argonian voice as Hama-Musa stepped into view. Secrets hand slowly released his blade, turning around to look at his argonian assistant. “It’s been hours. Are you… Well?” He asked, glancing down at the dead elf’s corpse. “Yes, fine.” Secrets said, standing up. “Is there a problem?” “No. The men were just wondering when we’d be ready to leave for Blackrose. I also brought your robes down.” He said, tossing the robes to the argonian mage. Secrets caught the robes, offering a nod in thanks before he dawned them. A small coo escaping him as the sun baked warmth of the now dried robes washed over his cool scales. “Yes.. We are ready to go I believe. Have the others come down and collect the tablets.” Secrets said, turning back and stuffing the research notes and letter in his side bag. “I’d also like the weapons and armor here gathered to be hauled off. Anything metal that can be melted down. I know a place that would pay well for the scrap.” Mama-Musa nodded, heading back up the stairway of the ruins to issue the orders. As Secrets was about to leave he paused, eyes falling on the dead altmer at his feet. Briefly pondering the whole situation, a grin spread across his argonian snout. “Love…” He said, kneeling down to undress the high elf. With the necromancer’s robes in hand he rolled them up and folded them over before stuffing them too in his side bag, leaving little room left for anything else. “What does a father offer his children indeed.” He said, making his way up the steps as the other argonians came down past him to do their duty. It was only a few minutes before all was gathered and the group were on their way back to Blackrose. Two of the argonians carried the heavy armor and weapons as the other two carried the large tablets. Secrets himself took the extra arrows for himself, as well as the wooden staff of the necromancer that he found to make a decent walking stick. The return journey wasn’t overly eventful. The rain had stopped and much of the river’s overflow had receded, leaving only ankle deep water to wade through. As they moved on the group passed a couple skeletons floating in the water, one orc and one dark elf, freshly stripped of meat by the many carnivorous fish of the region. Knows-Many-Secrets couldn’t help but smirk, recounting in his mind how all this came to be, and the inevitability of anyone who wishes to survive in Black Marsh without being argonian born. In time they came back into town, the tribal argonians gawking at the spectacular stone buildings coated in thick vines and overgrown moss. Though they lived nearby many had never entered the city before, as Imperial life didn’t quite agree with their sensibilities. The very first place they visited was a nearby metal shop Secrets often went to when buying his arrows. It was argonian owned and manned by an argonian smith, and the man who worked there was a skilled craftsman. Despite what the men and mer would say about his work. To the smith’s surprise Knows-Many-Secrets walked in, his two argonians who carried the armor and weapons coming in after. His eyes widened, mouth slightly agape at the spectacle. “Oh my… Please say you don’t need repairs for all of thiss…” “No, no. Don’t worry.” Secrets insisted, waving his hand dismissively as he approached the counter. “I’m here to sell. It’s not in the best condition, but I’d wager you could at least use the scrap metal eh? I’ll even give you a good deal. All of this for say.. Two hundred septims?” “Two hundred?” The smith said surprised. His a light chuckle he waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. “No way Secretss. Maybe if we were dealing in steel, but not rusted iron.” “Ah, oh well. What would you price it at? I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ve got a deadline you see.” Secrets replied. “Mmm… One hundred and thirty five septims.” “One hundred and forty.” “One hundred and thirty seven.” “Deal.” Secrets said, extending a hand to shake the smith’s firmly. With a nod to the tribals, signaling for them to walk the armor and weapons over and dump them on a heap of scrap metal. The smith handed over a heavy bag of coins to Secrets who accepted them kindly with a dip of his head. “Thank you for the businesss.” After the two exchanged pleasantries Secrets made it out on his way, nodding for the tribal argonians to follow. The next stop on the way was the Mage’s Guild, where he had been told about the tablets in the first place. He had mixed feelings about all this, however. Opting to order the argonians to stash the tablets away in a small pond. They were ancient stone, so not even the waters of Black Marsh would wear them down in any meaningful amount of time. And down there they’d be safe, but most of all retrievable. At least to an argonian. Turning back Knows-Many-Secrets dipped down into a low bow of respect to his brethren. “I realize I have asked much of you for little pay, but I must ask one more favor… I need you to guard these tablets here. Ensure that no other collects them until my return. The safety of my tribe is at stake.” Hama-Musa considered the situation. Looking back to his men, they all responded with a nod. “Agreed.” He said calmly, pounding his chest in respect to the argonian mage. “You have paid us well. And we understand your urgency. We will stay and watch over the tablets while you get to the bottom of this treason.” Secrets responded with a smile and a bow before turning away and walking toward the guild hall. Swiftly he entered the room, eyes surveying the small, run down guild chapter. It was late in the evening and he knew most were packing up for bed. As luck would have it the guildhall matron passed by, a sweet smile on her argonian face as she made her way to the kitchen area. “Ah! Excuse me, have you seen the altmer?” She paused, turning to see Secrets. With a wide smile she bounded forward, landing just in front of the green scaled mage with an excited, swaying tail. “I’m so sorry Secrets, but you just missed him! I understand he had a mission for you, is that correct?” “Yes. And I just returned. I was rather hoping to discuss my payment. It was not an easy task…” Secrets responded, his eyes looking the room over again before returning to her. “Oh, well… He said he won’t be back until tomorrow. Oh! Here, I’ll pay you. You were sent to investigate some Alyeid ruins correct? I’ll just take it out of the chapter’s funds.” She said with a smile, holding out a small bag of coins to Secrets. “Ah, well thank you very much.” He said, taking the coins and dipping down into a polite bow. “I’ll be sure to catch him later then. I have things that need doing.” he said, about to turn away but stopped. “Wait…” he said, turning back to the bubbly argonian woman. “You know a few powerful spells, yess? Perhaps a spell of conjuration?” “Oh? Well, yes! Conjuration is my specialty you know. I could show you a spell for the right price.” She replied. “I’ll give you one hundred septims if you’d show me how to summon a flame atronach.” He said, taking a small bag of coins and taking her hand in his, guiding it to the bag and enclosing her hand around her. “I’d be most grateful.” “Oh stop Secrets.” She said sweetly, taking the coins and placing them in her side pouch. “You’re such a charmer, are you sure you wouldn’t want a charm spell instead?” “No. I find I get by just fine with what I have.” “Well, if you’re sure.” She said with a giggle before stepping back. Holding up a hand she spoke a few quick words of magic, a shadowy energy rising from her hands and taking form in a spiral of red smoke and heated air. Forming as if from nothing at all stood a being of pure flame standing in the guildhall. It’s fiery body shaped in an oddly female form. “You already understand the basics of metaphysics. I know that much from our conversations. And the binding of an atronach is fairly simple. Unlike other daedra they tend not to have any set loyalties or bindings to a particular master. So they are much easier to control when summoned. When you cast the spell you will make the binding, and call your atronach from the planes of Oblivion. The atronach summoned will be required by the binding contract made in that instant to do your bidding for it’s short time in Mundus. Be warned, however, that if the binding is weak the atronach can turn on you.” She explained in detail before handing the argonian a scroll with more precise details on the bindings and how to make them. “If you’d like I could go over the spell with you a few times… So you get it right.” Secrets took the scroll and looked it over, careful to take in every detail. Normally he’d never be so bold as to use a new spell in battle before practicing, but this was an emergency. “Thank you! You’ve been of much help.” Secrets replied, moving in to lightly peck the argonian woman’s cheek. “But I truly must be off. Thank you for the lesson!” “Oh my!” She exclaimed, bringing a hand to her snout to hide a giggle. “Any time Secrets. Any time at all.” She said, her flame atronach familiar folding it’s arms derisively. Secrets moved to the door quickly, heading down the long street with his eyes dead set on the scroll. Pouring over it time and time again to soak in every last bit of information he could learn. It was only a short few minutes before he saw the old, abandoned ruins of the Dirty Maiden. An imperial inn that had long since closed off as this section of the city was flooded a few years back. It was dry now, of course, but the imperials never tried to rebuild, having learned their lesson. Secrets was ready, quickly taking out the necromancer’s robes and dawning them just behind a large tree so he was out of sight of the house. With luck the altmer had been about Secret’s height, so the robes fit. And the sun had gone down so the tears in the fabric from where Secrets’ sword cut in weren’t as visible. Pulling the black robe over his head the argonian walked out, keeping his tail tucked under the robes and moving on the wooden staff leaned over just enough for the hood to hide his argonian face. Finally approaching the door he knocked twice. “What does the father offer all his children?” Came a voice from beyond the door. “Love.” Secrets responded quietly, doing his best to conceal the argonian aspects of his voice, and to mimic the altmer who was expected to arrive. It was all up to chance now. And Secrets felt convinced he was ready for anything. Bow at his back and sword at his waist. |
![]() |
|
| Monkey | Nov 29 2011, 11:22 PM Post #3 |
|
The door swings open revealing a dark, dusty room. As your eyes adjust to the dark room, you can make out a figure sitting by themselves at the table, and from farther back in the inn you can hear the soft click of a door opening or closing, no light shed in from the direction. The robbed figure turns in the direction of Knows-Many-Secrets and motions to the seat across from him. “Love…how sweet.” sneered the faceless figure, “What the father offers is far greater than love! Then again, you wouldn’t know that now would you? If memory serves correct, we sent out two of you, and by the looks of it you those robes a bit little too short. I knew leaving it up to those two was a bad idea, but he insisted that they would get the job done. Since they were informed to keep this operation a secret, I can only assume you happened to run into them, and not in a pleasant why either. I’m sure you may have many questions for me, but, first I must ask…did you at least have the common courtesy to bring the tablets with you?” While the robbed man talks, there is movement behind Secrets, as a large Nord and equally intimidating Orc step in behind Secrets blocking an easy escape. Both men have manacles attached to their wrists and ankles, with the chains broken allowing them movement. They are both dressed in dirty rags and appear to have been living in harsh conditions for some time, but the most noticeable feature was their faces. Their cold, heartless eyes, piercing through Secrets, willing to strike without thought or remorse. A whistle can be heard from an adjacent building, with another previously manacled figure, this time a Bosmer, with a steel bow drawn and pointed down at Secrets. “Forgive my associates, hired muscle if you will. Unlike myself, they are not enlightened by our Father, nor will they ever be. They will still serve their purpose, free a few deadly criminals from the Thorn, give them a few weapons and their instincts will take care of the rest. They will help create the souls necessary for our Father, but forgive me, I have said too much. I will ask once more, did you bring the tablets?” Robbed Man: Altmer Necromancer Level: 7 Height: 5’7” Weight: 110 lbs Weapon: Silver Dagger Armor: Robes Spells: Fire Rune, Curse of Weakness, Flames, Healing, Raise Zombie, Summon Skeleton, Oakflesh, Candlelight, Touch of Fear, Spark Items: Soul stone fragments x2, an unidentifiable pendant Criminals: Orc Criminal Level: 6 Height: 6’4” Weight: 250 lbs Weapon: Steel Warhammer Armor: Dirty Rags Nord Criminal Level: 6 Height: 6’’0” Weight: 200 lbs Weapon: Steel Greatsword Armor: Dirty Rags Spells: Curse of Weakness, Oakflesh, Frostbite Bosmer Criminal Level: 6 Height: 5’1” Weight: 85 lbs Weapon: Steel Dagger, Steel Bow, x10 Steel Arrows Armor: Dirty Rags Plot: While the Nord and Orc attack, he will provide cover fire, but will disappear after firing two rounds. Unlike the other two, he wants to make good on being free from prison and perform a few murders as he tries to flee the city. Dunmer Criminal Level: 6 Height: 5’5” Weight: 135 lbs Weapon: Steel Daggers x2 Armor: Dirty Rags Spells: Flames, Touch of Fear, Spark Plot: She (Who says all the criminals need to be dudes?!) attacks from her hiding place as soon as the Necromancer gives her the signal. Notes: -The thugs will attack as soon as any weapon or hostile action takes place. -When close to death or if things aren‘t going in his favor, the Necromancer will place a fire rune on his chest and activate it screaming, “FATHER I OFFER YOU MY SOUL!” The soul gem fragments and pendant are found in his ashes, the fire causing it to be unrecognizable to yourself. -A thorough search of the building will unveil a trapdoor in a backroom, (it is booby trapped upon opening with a frost rune) |
![]() |
|
| Knows-Many-Secrets | Dec 5 2011, 01:30 AM Post #4 |
|
Secrets walked into the center of the dark room, head held low ad the robed figure gestured to the seat. Moving over he set the wooden staff down beside the table, taking the seat opposite the shadowed figure. As he spoke the argonian could feel the presence of other, very large figures in the room making themselves noticeable. The creaking of the old floor boards as the two lumbering figures approached from behind, and the small glint of light from the silver bow of the bosmer archer as he came out from a back room. As the altmer spoke on the argonian suppressed an amused giggle, hearing how his masterful disguise had failed and how the altmer had so masterfully saw through the disguise. The two figures in the back moved behind the argonian, their massive forms eclipsing his like mountains blocking out the sun. Once the monologue was finally over, Secrets reached up to push the black hood from his face, revealing his argonian heritage. “Ah thank the Divines you figured it out.” He said in his distinctly argonian voice. “I didn’t think I could keep the charade up very long.” “Don’t try to beat around the bush argonian.” The necromancer sneered, lightly rapping his fingers against the wooden table before them. “One last time. Where are the tablets?” “I hid them.” Secrets responded bluntly, his grin spread wide across his snout. The altmer’s face lost all sense of amusement for the situation, contorting into a low frown and eyes like daggers. “Yesss… I hid the tablets away. In a swamp. In Black Marsh… To be perfectly honest you’d have an better luck trying to just find an Alyeid and convince them to tell you how to… Whatever you were trying to do, than to try and find the tablets now.” “I see…” The altmer said in a low, menacing voice. “And I suppose you’re the only one who knows of their whereabouts, correct?” “Of course.” Secrets replied, leaning back in his chair. “I would be a poor negotiator if I didn’t come without some sort of… Leverage.” “Leverage?” The altmer repeated, stifling a faked laugh before gesturing calmly with one hand. “Take him.” The two large warriors behind the argonian lunged down, massive arms grabbing hold of the argonian and hauling him out of his chair, their raw brutish strength overpowering. Secrets didn’t struggle, instead shifting to find his footing, to stand after being so violently shaken. “You have no leverage. You think we won’t simply kill you and go find the tablets ourselves?” The argonian’s grin only grew wider, gagging slightly from the grip around his neck. “Search a dozen miles of open swamp?” He managed, shaking against his brutish captors just enough to take in a breath. The necromancer waved his hand again, the gargantuan orc releasing Secrets’ neck as both the warriors held him back by his arms. “Very well.” The altmer said lowly as he waved a dismissive hand to the archer, who in turn nodded and lowered his bow. “I suppose we should just cut the pleasantries and start with the torture then, shouldn’t we?” “Oh, without a doubt…” Secrets replied, his left hand opening up as a black cloud of energy began to form. “Silence him!” The altmer roared, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands against the desk. Yet by the time the two warriors that held him could respond the dark cloud erupted from his hand, forming a massive circle of powerful, dull red light and intense heat that poured from the portal in waves. The orc turned to face the portal, one hand leaving the argonian to reach for his steel war hammer that rested on his back. Secrets turned away just as a searing burst of red light erupted from within the portal. The shadowed energy and red light fading and replaced by a beacon of light in the formerly dark room. A tall woman wreathed in fire floated in the room, heat pouring off her in waves, her intense light beaming from behind the smoldering metal armor that lined her scantily clad form. The shining light blinded the orc and all in the room, forcing them to recoil back and block the sudden source of energy before them. Pulling his arm free of the baffled orc, Secrets reached down and drew his blade with his right hand. Lashing back to struck the nord’s flesh with his silver blade, causing the nord to call out in pain and relinquish the argonian mage. The mage fell down to his knees before kicking off into a roll, clearing the two brutes as all in the room regained their senses of the brightness. Just as he turned around the nord had already regained his presence, a murderous gleam in his once cold, unfeeling eyes as he started toward the mage. Secrets raised his hand up and uttered a few quick words of power, a jet of red hot flames shooting out from his palm at the large nord. The flames connected, burning his pale skin but not halting the warrior’s progress. Swinging his great sword the nord attempted to cleave the argonian in half, missing narrowly as Secrets deftly dodged to the side. With a counter strike Secrets’ blade lashed along the nord’s exposed torso, leaving behind a deep cut along his left side. “Don’t shoot!” The necromancer yelled, holding a hand up to dismiss the archer who was already taking aim. “If you kill him we lose the tablets!” Just as the necromancer turned back he saw a blade of silver flying toward him. With a shout of a few spell words a white light enveloped his form, the blade ricocheting off to the side from his raised arms. The sudden blow sent the necromancer to the floor, having tripped over his own chair in his surprise. Secrets took the moment to survey the room. On the far side was the source of light, his flame atronach, doing battle with the orcish warrior. Fire and steel clashing with the orc gaining ground. Now without a weapon the argonian began chanting his spell, hands igniting in a pulsating aura of red light. He could see the archer backing away to the door, considering escape during the chaos. The spell fired off in a ball of raw malice, striking the archer and flooding his mind with hate and madness. Recovering from his wound the murderous nord swirled around, claymore gleaming in the ever expanding light of the flames. Words of magic were on his lips, his free hand glowing with an aura of frost, when an arrow struck into his shoulder. He fell back several steps, spell silenced by the shocking pain as his eyes tore across the room searching for his assailant. Rage overtook his reason as he found his attacker, the archer who had accompanied him from the argonian prison. With a vicious roar the nord forgot his prey and charged the archer fully, ready to tear him a part for his treachery. The necromancer stood back up from the ground, face contorted into an expression of pure hate and has alight with the glow of storms. Secrets’ eyes widened, realizing what was to come. The room flashed white as lightning leapt from the altmer’s finger tips, shooting out before the argonian could react. The lightning connected and sent a hot numbness over his entire body, pain ripping through his body with every passing second. Though the tormented growls and snarled teeth, the argonian uttered a few more spell words before firing off another bolt of red. Targeting not the necromancer but the orcish warrior that was battling his atronach. The bolt struck the orc, his body enveloped in a red glow and his eyes filled with the crimson glow of bloodlust. With his magicka nearly depleted by the soul-shattering lightning Secrets stumbled back, his scales steaming from the raw heat and body trembling from the searing pain. “Unlimited power!” The altmer yelled, taking a few steps around the table to approach his prey as the battle raged around him. “That is what the Father will give us. Give ME! All I need are those tablets. You will reveal your secrets before you die, this I promise you lizard!” Consumed by immense pain, the argonian writhed on the ground, squirming away from the approaching necromancer as best he could. Only a few incoherent, guttural words escaping his throat before he raised his hand as if to plead for his life. His hand ignited in an intense flame that lashed out for the necromancer, forcing his spell to a close and causing him to leap back in surprise. Although the fires died down in almost an instant, the argonian’s magicka all but spent, it was enough to catch the interest of the mage’s flame atronach. She turned her head curiously to her master, surprise silently taking her to see the conjurer nearly dead. With an eruption of flame from her feet the construct shot off like a flaming meteor, leaving behind her badly burnt orcish opponent and careening right into the unbalanced necromancer’s side. With all the force of a jet the atronach rammed her searing body against the dark caster, his robes burning against his flesh before the pair came crashing into the side wall. With his body badly burnt the necromancer began to panic as he saw the atronach’s searing hand rise up, ready to crush his face in with a burning touch. Yet before the final blow could be landed her body jerked, fizzling and growing dim before fading into thin air as if she had never existed. Her time was up. Secrets lay on the ground, his body twitching from the residual electrical pulses that riddled his body. Yet something began to change, the burnt and damaged scales mending rapidly. The severe burns of his flesh slowing returning to normal. The argonian had called upon his people’s most unique ability, the enhanced regenerative properties known as Histskin. But it wasn’t instantaneous, and the argonian was still not battle read. And the insane orc was turning his way looking for the next creature to destroy. Just at that moment the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard coming in from the back room. A shadowed figure moving in with eyes alight with a feral hatred. It was the nord, blood soaked and sporting three new arrows sticking out of his torso and left arm. Blood pouring down his entire body, yet victorious over his elven adversary. The mind bent orc and nord exchanged murderous glances, both narrowing their eyes into an intense glare of pure hate. “No… Fools! Don’t do it!” The necromancer screamed, urging his men to fight off the spell woven by the reptilian illusionist. Yet his pleas were drowned in the combined fury of the battlecries of the two frenzied warriors. The pair charged each other, the nord holding up his claymore in his one good hand and the orc lifting his hammer high over his head. As they collided over Secrets’ crippled body the orc’s chest was impaled by the nord’s blade, and the mighty orcish hammer came down, caving the nord’s skull in with a splatter of blood and brain matter. The two warriors collapsed to the ground, the last of their lives escaping them. Slowly the argonian mage rose to his feet, his black robes torn and burnt all over. A wide, crazed grin on his face and eyes wide with a strange madness that more befitted a maniac than the healer he was known to be. A low chuckle escaped the reptile caster as his red eyes set on the wounded necromancer, slowly building up to a rumbling cackle. “What are you laughing at lizard?” The necromancer demanded, catching his breath as he leaned against the wooden wall. “You’re out of magicka. I can tell from here… But myself? I could cast a hundred more spells before feeling fatigued. You may as well surrender those secrets now and I may be forgiving and end your life quickly.” “Magic?” Secrets said between mad chuckles. Slinging the bow from around his chest and holding it up as he drew out an arrow. “What do you think I brought this for? Looks?” He said as he laughed and lined up his shot. “Your magic against my arrows. I wonder if you can cast a spell before I shoot you right in the head.” He finished, his wide, fanged grin spreading ever wider across his snout. The necromancer’s eyes widened, taking several steps back until he had pinned himself in the room’s far corner. “Do what you will argonian. But I still have an ace up my sleeve.” And with that he raised up a hand and snapped his fingers. Secrets’ eyes widened as he turned around, a dagger meant for his neck stabbing down deeply into his shoulder blade. With an angry roar he spun around, attempting to strike the figure with his bow. His assailant leapt back to avoid the strike, giggling madly as she gleefully licked the argonian’s blood from her blade. Now before him was a dark elven woman in prison rags, red crimson eyes alight with a mad thrill. The moment his back was turned he heard the sound of conjuration, a portal opening and closing, and the low hiss of a skeletal warrior as he stepped out from the portal ready for combat. Secrets jerked to the side, narrowly avoiding the skeleton’s claymore only to feel the harsh sting of the dunmer’s blade as she narrowly cut across his chest. Before the mad woman could keep her attack up the argonian swung his bow, bashing away each dagger strike as he backed away, trying to keep his distance. Blood trickled down his arm, paralyzed from the deep wound she had given him from the shadows. Streaks of lightning lashed out from the altmer necromancer, his bolts just barely missing the agile argonian. Occasionally letting loose with a curse of weakness in hopes of bringing the mad mage down to his knees. Maneuvering carefully, the argonian worked around so the skeleton’s back was to it’s master. Moving around whenever the altmer moved into a better vantage point. Yet the dunmer managed to nick and cut him, blades sliding up and down his bloodied scales every so often, just barely drawing blood. Her giggles and squeals of glee echoing around the wide room with each vicious hit. Soon enough a stray curse struck the skeleton, it’s body enveloped in a red glow before it crumbled to dust before the altmer’s magical might. With a burst of speed the dunmer assassin lunged forward, dagger ready to pierce the argonian’s chest and bring him to his knees. Yet Secrets was swift, jerking to the side and dropping his bow. With his now free hand the argonian grabbed hold of the elven woman’s wrist and pulled her in, jaws wide open and biting down hard into her throat. Secrets’ rows of razor sharp, dinosaur-like teeth driving in to her soft, ashen flesh. Ripping and tearing down deep as blood splattered and poured from the vicious wound. Her maniacal grin faded as she felt the blood flow from her head, red eyes widening in abject horror. She tried to scream but could only manage a soft, pained gasp as her body trembled from the sudden loss of strength. Trying to fight back he raised her second dagger up only for it to fall from her lifeless hand. Secrets tore back, ripping a large chunk from the dunmer’s throat and sending blood spurting out uncontrollably. Finally he released her, letting her lifeless corpse fall to the ground and casually snatching her main dagger from the hand he held. Spitting out her flesh and blood, the argonian turned a wide, crazed grin to the altmer. Blood trickling down his chin and teeth coated in red. Wiping some of the excess blood from his chin with the sleeve of his black robes, the argonian mage chimed, “Oh, I’m sorry. It seems I’ve eaten your last line of defense.” A dark chuckle escaped his reptilian throat as he stepped forward, holding the stolen dagger up threateningly. The altmer backed up against the wall again, eyes wide with terror and heart racing. Taking a quick breath he tried to calm his nerves, eyes narrowing in a daring manner. “You.. Don’t have enough strength to kill me now argonian. You’re wounded… You only have use of your one arm. Just tell me where the tablets are and I won’t kill you.” Secrets couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh, twirling his dagger around as he spoke. “Ehehe… Nice bluff. But I can smell your fear from here… The stench of utter terror. Fear of your eventual death and…” He paused, sniffing the air. “Soiled undergarments.” “What!?” The altmer yelled, face flushing red with embarrassment. “That’s absurd! I did nothing of the sort!” “Sure you didn’t. Maybe it’s just the smell of your friend’s bowels emptying as I sank my teeth into her throat.” Secrets replied, taking a step closer. “One step closer argonian, and I’ll turn my spells on you.” The altmer said, raising his hands up defensively. “You forget, I still have my magic, and you have only that dagger!” “Magic?” Secrets questioned, grinning widely to reveal his blood soaked fangs. “What magic? You mean the weak spells that you know aren’t strong enough to kill me before I close the distance and cut your throat?” The altmer narrowed his eyes, glancing around the poorly lit room for some chance of escape. Just himself alone in a dark room with what seemed to be a homicidal, cannibalistic argonian. His gaze fell back on the lizard-like mage, hope dieing with each step of his assailant. “Father!” He shouted, his hands igniting in a red glow. Secrets tensed, preparing for the attack. “I offer you my SOUL!” He screamed, the flash of light striking his own chest with the symbol of fire. The argonian’s eyes widen as he realized what the altmer had planned. Darting off to the side he leapt forward, flipping over the center table as he fell to the ground moments before the necromancer exploded. Fire flashed and the room shook, the massive burst leaving only a cloud of dust and debris where the altmer once stood. Peaking out over the now burnt table the wounded argonian made his way to his feet. A low growl of annoyance escaping him as he dropped the steel dagger. With low mutterings the argonian turned around to retrieve his silver blade, quickly sheathing it before slumping against the wall, panting heavily. “Coward…” He uttered, lowly chanting a few words of healing, his good hand coming alive with a golden glow that seemed to flicker and dim on and off. He didn’t have much magicka left for healing, but there was enough to stop the bleeding and ease his pain. With a heavy sigh Secrets let the light fade away, casually limping across the corpse covered floor to collect his bow, finally stopping before the necromancer’s ashes. Sifting through them he came across a couple soul stone fragments and a strange amulet the likes of which he had never seen before. The fire had burned away much of it’s markings, and the lack of light in the room made it a bad time to further his study. Sliding the fragments and the amulet into his side bag Secrets further explored the old, rundown inn, moving into the backroom the archer had fled to. What he found was a grizzly sight, hacked limbs and torn entrails strewn across what looked to be a kitchen. The nord had evidently had quite the time mutilating the poor bosmer. In the corner of the kitchen room was a small trap door with the bosmer’s blood pooled around it. Peculiar, considering most buildings in Black Marsh didn’t have a cellar due to the soft ground and moist environment. There was something off about it worth investigation, but at the same time Secrets wasn’t overly willing to just charge in. He was badly hurt, and a surprise now could spell his end. Walking back around Secrets took his wooden staff from the ground and returned just outside of the kitchen doorway. Kneeling down he carefully poked the staff around the corner and prodded around until the tip of the staff hooked into the trap door’s handle. “Successs…” Secrets hissed, pulling up on the staff to open the door. There was a huge BOOM and a blast of ice cold air shooting out of the room, covering the area in a thin layer of mist-like snow. Secrets drew his staff back, face wilting upon the discovery that the staff was destroyed. “So much for having a walking stick…” He muttered before standing up and walking in. The snow bit into his bare feet with each step, sending a shiver up his spine. But the trap was already set, leaving the door defenseless. “Well, I suppose I might as well…” He said, opening the trap door and sliding in quietly. Being certain to use his stealth skills to avoid making noise, and adamant about getting to the bottom of this necromantic plot. |
![]() |
|
| Monkey | Dec 8 2011, 02:37 PM Post #5 |
|
A rickety wooden ladder leads down into a dark hole. A heavy magicka presence can be felt from the walls, with the mud impossibly held back in the shape of a hall, with mage light balls hovering every ten feet illuminating the hall. The halls twist and turn leaving many mysteries behind each corner, and slowly going further into the earth. A stronger magical presence can be felt as Secrets heads further down the hall. Trap 1 About ten minutes into the hall, around one of the corners there is a soul gem sitting on an alter. When Secrets turns the corner, it triggers the gem which unleashes a flame based, journeyman level destruction spell. Afterwards the gem cracks, out of charges. Trap 2 Further into the halls is the next set of traps. These traps are set up on a corner. On the ceiling is a Lighting Rune, triggered when passing under it, on the wall facing Secrets just before he turns the corner is a Fire Rune, and the wall facing the turn is a Frost Rune. Trap 3 The walls widen into a hall, filled with unique statues and an ornate tiled floor featuring four different patterned tiles. At the end of the hall is a large double door closed., the source of all the magicka presence seems to be coming from behind the door. Four tiles: Spiral Pattern: Stepping on this will cause the statues to fire ice spikes, for five seconds. Square Pattern: Stepping on this will cause the statues to fire flash bolts, for five seconds. Triangular Pattern: Stepping on this will cause the statues to fire sparks, for five seconds. Wavy Pattern: Stepping on this will not result in anything happening. Behind the door! The room is large and circular in design. Sitting in the center of the room on an alter covered in ancient runes, is what looks like a black soul gem pulsing with energy, with a robed figure standing behind it. The floor is littered with corpses of all different races, some are robed similar to the previous necromancers, others looked like citizens, and even some dressed in rags. There are about 20 corpses in total. On a table behind the robed figure there is a tome and two vials, one red and the other blue. (Potion of Healing, and Potion of Magicka). When the door opens the robed man looks up, revealing his face to be the Altmer that originally gave you the mission. “I must say, I underestimated you lizard. So where is my tablets? I’d hate for you to have gone through all that trouble and not even complete your mission. Now give them to me, then give me your soul!” Altmer Necromancer Level: 10 Height: 5’11” Weight: 157 lbs Weapon: Staff of Raise Dead (30 Charges, allows the user to raise a weak dead enemy and have two corpses raised at once) Armor: Silk Mages Robes, Silk Mages Hood, Silk Gloves of Conjuration ( Conjurations cost 10% less to cast) Spells: Summon Skeleton, Summon Scamp, Summon Zombie, Summon Flame Atronach, Summon Flaming Familiar, Soul Trap, Bound Cuirass, Bound Sword, Bound Greaves, Blazing Spear, Sever Magicka, Shock, Fire Run, Frost Rune, Lightning Rune, Ice Spike, Major Enervation, Corrode Weapon, Corrode Armor, Mage Light, Levitate, Encumbering Touch Items: Amulet of the Undying Children (The cult amulet.), Gold Sapphire Ring, Potion of Healing, Petty Soul Gem Notes: If you move close to the black soul gem, you feel a tugging at your will power as if the stone was trying to steal your soul. Even if threatened with the tablets being stolen, the Necromancer will attack first and worry about finding them later. He has a reputation to maintain. GOOD LUCK! |
![]() |
|
| Knows-Many-Secrets | Dec 14 2011, 07:43 AM Post #6 |
|
Secrets crawled down the rickety old ladder, eyes constantly glancing around to be sure he didn’t set off another trap hidden at the bottom. He finally stepped down after a quick visual sweep, slowly putting his weight on the muddy ground before letting out a sigh of relief. The small room, upon closer inspection, was the beginning of a long tunnel, the very walls composed of a wet mud that still somehow managed it’s shape, and aligned with magelights floating near the ceiling to provide a constant supply of light. A low, crocodilian growl escaped the argonian mage as he looked down the long, winding hall with suspicion. “There’s no way this place isn’t a trap…” He said to himself quietly, a scaled hand slipping down to his burnt and singed side bag to produce a vial of pink liquid. Lifting the vial he poured the contents into his mouth, hastily swallowing the red liquid inside. Almost immediately his body flushed with warmth, a strong tingling sensation fluttering across his charred and bleeding scales. His wounds rapidly closed and his body renewed, but the soreness of his aching muscles didn’t pass. Sliding the now empty vial back into his side bag the argonian straightened his back and rolled his formerly wounded shoulder, letting out a rough moan of annoyance at the stinging pain. But still, he had mobility of his arm again, and that was enough. Turning back to the tunnel he scanned the long, mud hall. The strange aura of magical power emanating from the very walls themselves. A dark power that lingered with the ever present stench of death and decay, and a bitter coldness that penetrated his thick scales to the very bone. Nothing like the warm, energetic magics employed by the Mages Guild. Still he started on, carefully walking down the strange tunnel, his eyes darting around the corridor for the first signs of structural compromise. He didn’t exactly fancy the idea of being buried alive under several tons of mud and swamp. After about ten minutes down the road the argonian was starting to get impatient. The seemingly endless tunnel not once seeming to come to an end, and the cold mud all around him was starting to make the reptile uncomfortable. “By Sithiss, this passage is inconceivably long… What possible use could the necromancers have for a thing like this?” He asked himself, mostly to break up the tired monotony of his seemingly endless walk. Turning the corner his eyes caught the orange glow of a massive fireball careening down the narrow mud hall, hurtling toward him at an alarming speed. Panicking, the argonian reared back at the last second as the flames passed before him, crashing into the mud wall with a fiery boom that knocked the argonian on his tail with a thud. “Fireballs!? Oh joy… More traps.” He said quietly, taking a few quick breaths to recompose himself before rising. Carefully the mage glances over the corner, looking about to see a cracked soul gem just around the corner, the trap having been set. “Need to be more observant..” He said quietly, walking out from around the corner and continuing on his way, ignoring the broken trap. It wasn’t long into his journey that the mage again came across a sharp turn in the hall. Stopping several feet away his crimson eyes narrowed sharply, eyeing the corner with an intense, and justified, suspicion. There was a trap on this corner, he could feel it in his tail. Thinking quickly he started to mutter a low chant, his hand becoming encased in a pulsating cloud of dark energy. His muscled tightened as the spell tore open a small portal before him, the magicka within his body depleting once more as a new figure stepped out as the portal dispersed. A woman wreathed in flame, his minion, floating just inches from the muddy ground. “Ah… Good.” he said, panting from the exertion before gesturing for the corner. “Would you be so kind, my dear?” The atronach paused, staring at her master before turning to the corner. She was hesitant at first, but finally shrugged and floated down around the corner, unsuspecting of what was to come. The first rune erupted into a large blast of lightning, the air flashing white as the thunderous boom echoed down the halls. The atronach twitched and curled into a fetal position, enduring the electrical torment of the burst. Almost the moment the first rune erupted the second came after, sending a sudden burst of fire washing over his already wounded form. Yet she remained unharmed from the flames, slowly uncurling her body before looking back at her master with an uncertain tilt of the head. “Oh stop it. It’s not like you can die or anything. Now get on with it, we’re in a hurry.” Secrets said, rolling his eyes and giving the daedra a shooing motion. Reluctant the fire being complied, floating down around the other side of the corner. Immediately another explosion erupted, the walls and floor frosting over in a white layer of snow. A pained hiss escaped the elemental, her flesh sizzling with steam from the sudden blast of ice, yet she persisted still. Damaged severely and barely able to keep herself aloft. “Excellent.” Secrets said coolly, walking around the corner to join his summoning. “Good job my dear. Come on then, there may be traps ahead!” He said, the atronach giving him a pitiful, faceless look before floating on, the argonian trailing several feet behind her just incase. It wasn’t long until his atronach familiar disappeared from this realm, fading into nothingness as if she had never been. Although disappointed Secrets shrugged it off and continued on, keeping his eyes sharp for anything suspicion. And sure enough it wasn’t long until he came across a strange floor. Rows of tiles with all carvings engraved into the stone went down the long hall, surrounded by rows of strange statues. Each statue seemingly robbed from an Alyeid ruin, elves standing in rows in various poses. “Oh my, seems we’ve got a cliché on out handss…” Secrets said, a small grin across his reptilian snout. He came down to one knee, looking over the intricate designs carefully. One set of tiles were decorated with a simple triangle, another a square, a spiral, and finally a wavy pattern. After a few moments of examination he drew out his silver blade, still stained with the blood of the nord, and extended it out to stab down on one of the spiral tiles. Immediately an array of frozen icicles shot from one of the statutes right over the tile where someone standing on it would have been situated. Intrigued, the argonian stabbed another spiral tile, observing as another statue shot out a spray of ice spikes. Testing it a third time with another spiral design he saw more frozen daggers fly out, just as the last few attempts. “Simple enough…” He exclaimed, stabbing now onto a square the furthest from him. A statue on his left lit up and releasing a searing fireball over his head that hit the other side of the room with bright flicker. He quickly tapped another spiral, watching as it shot more icicles out over his head, and switched again to a new square, producing yet another fireball. “Quite simple. Different tiles produce a different spell trap. There isn’t any specific order from the looks of it either…” He reached out again, jabbing at one of the wavy tiles and glancing around the room. Nothing had happened. He jabbed another wave tile and once more nothing occurred. Only silence filling the long hall. With a grin he jabbed a square tile one more time, producing a burst of flames as a final test of his hypothesis. “Excellent.” He exclaimed, standing up and sheathing his blade. Taking in a deep breath he stepped onto one of the wavy tiles, slowly shifting his weight and feeling the tile sink down into the ground below. Nothing happened, as expected, and the mage let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over, and now he simply had to make his journey across. Carefully taking it one step at a time before reaching the other side. Finally stepping off the rows of tiles he moved to rub the back of his neck, cracking his back with a stretch and a yawn. “Glad that’s over.” he said, looking over the ornately designed door before him. It was dark and animating an evil energy. The door itself engraved with the image of a dark figure looming over a group of small children who were on their knees in a praying position. No doubt an homage to this ‘father’ figure the necromancers kept speaking of. His eyes sharpened into daggers and his teeth became exposed in a growling snarl. There was only one Dread Father in the world, and this pretender had no place trying to lay claim over his realm. Before Secrets could touch the door is slowly creaked open, the foul odor of dead bodies wafting out from inside the darkness. Raising a robed sleeve to his nostrils the argonian growled. “I called it.. This is definitely a trap…” With a resolved breath the argonian walked into the darkness, drawing out his bow and arrow and taking aim. He came into a large, circular room. The first thing to catch the mage’s eye was an altar in the room’s center, adorned in intricate runes and topped with an unusually large black soul gem, glowing with a foul magic that filled the very air with malevolence. The ground was absolutely littered in corpses, both necromancers and common Blackrose citizens that no doubt had been abducted for this ritual. Secrets snarled, teeth barred as he turned to look at the robed figure standing in the room’s center near the Black Soul gem. Though now clad in black robes there was no mistake. The very man that had sent him on this quest was standing before him now, holding a black staff ended in a skull. “I must say, I underestimated you lizard. So where is my tablets? I’d hate for you to have gone through all that trouble and not even complete your mission. Now give them to me, then give me your soul!” The altmer said with a sneering grin, taking a step out into the light, a hand dramatically outstretched and ready to cast a spell. “Ah, Yanis Aldaril. Why am I not surprised to discover your treachery?” Secrets said calmly, bow aimed for the altmer’s chest. “One move and you’re dead.” “Treachery? Hardly.” The grand necromancer scoffed. “The Mages Guild is the traitor. Banning necromancy. Killing the King of Worms! All for what? Morality? They might as well be spitting in the eye of scholarly pursuits.” “Scholarly pursuits? Look around, you fool! We’re standing upon heaps and heaps of dead bodies!” “Academia cannot move forward without heaps!” Yanis yelled, stepping to the side as Secrets in turn moved in reverse, the pair slowly circling each other. Sizing one another up yet unwilling to make the first attack. “So what was all of this about anyway? You sent me to the ruins to die?” Secrets said, eyes glancing around the room and catching a glimpse of a couple potions sitting on a table on the far end of the room. Turning his eyes back to the necromancer he continued his pace, easing his way closer. “Or perhaps you knew they’d fail, and you needed me to deliver the tablets instead…” The altmer smirked at the accusation, eyes narrowing on the argonian as he tried to figure out what he was planning. “More or less. I figured there wasn’t any way to be sure those idiots could get the tablets here before being picked off by the local wildlife. So I sent you to bring me the tablets yourself. Either they killed you and had a fresh corpse to play with or you proved their incompetence and brought the tablets to me personally. Either way, I’d win.” “Not a bad plan. Although I think you have miscalculated. You know…” He said, a grin breaking across his face. “What with me holding a bow pointed at your heart and all.” “Ah yes, very threatening. But I’m afraid this is where your journey ends, lizard. You will not leave here alive!” The elf yelled, holding up his free hand and chanting a spell. The air around him growing hazy with an intense heat. “Too late!” Secrets called out, letting his arrow fly. There was a clang of metal as the arrow collided with the red, smoky energy around the altmer’s body, the arrow snapping on what was now a set of daedric armor worn fittingly on the elven necromancer. “Oh…” Secrets said, staring at the newfound armor with a look of concern and surprise. Yanis brought up his free hand, spell words slipping from his lips as an intense fire builds up around it. It didn’t take the argonian long to get on the move, quickly dashing to the side and drawing out another arrow from his quiver just as an immense burst of red flame erupted from the necromancer, the raw force of the searing impact sending a booming sound throughout the room. Before the altmer could channel another spell the argonian mage let loose another arrow, this one streaming over and bounding off the demonic cuirass he wore. The necromancer began channeling another spell, his hand radiating a frosty aura of cold before thrusting forward, a dagger of ice shooting out and flying across the room. The icicle just barely missing the caster as he ducked down to draw out another arrow and let it fly, this time not striking the necromancer but the black soul stone resting on the center altar. The gem cracked and fell to the ground, immense magical energies escaping the stone in beams of white light. “What? NO!” The altmer roared, eyes wide with rage as he watched the black soul gem lose it’s powers. “What have you done!? The ritual is incomplete! All those souls WASTED!” His eyes tore back to the argonian, but he was missing. His form no longer where he was when he took the shot. Much to Yanis’ horror the argonian had made his way to the desk in the back of the room, quickly stuffing his side bag with the strange tome and two potions. Secrets stopped short of placing the magicka potion in his bag, turning around to see his opponent charging his hand with an intense flame. Secrets shot off quickly, narrowly avoiding the flaming explosion of the desk as the altmer’s spell reduced it to cinders. “No escape!” Yanis roared, chanting quickly and angrily as huge balls of fire erupted from his palm, each one narrowly missing it’s target as Secrets circled around the room, making his way for the door. Seeing the argonian’s destination the necromancer changed tactics, a blast of red energy shooting out and striking the ground just before the door, leaving a runic inscription in the ground. Secrets came to an abrupt stop, turning around hastily to avoid the newly placed trap. Yet before he could thinks of where else to go a bolt of lightning shot through his body, the impact sending him reeling back against the cold wall. “You’ve ruined everything! EVERYTHING! All my plans and calculations. Breaking those criminals out of the Rose. Locating those tablets and tricking those degenerate buffoons to do all my work for me! Even luring all these people here to die for the Father. The ONLY thing you had to do was bring me those TABLETS!” Yanis ranted, sending another surge of electricity into the argonian’s body. Extending his black staff to a nearby corpse a shadowed energy shot from it, a beam of ghostly blue flying from the skull head of the staff and enveloping the corpse as it rose from the ground. “But no… You couldn’t follow a simple instruction!” He yelled, his other hand rising into the air as a dark energy enveloped it. To his side a portal opened, cold and death escaping the purple vortex of darkness and fog before dispersing, leaving behind only a decayed, animated corpse. “You are the foulest, most vile, most imbecilic cretin on the face of Tamriel! No, on NIRN! And now you will DIE!” Secrets moved quickly, raising the vial of potion quickly as the necromancer raised his forces. Eyes widening suddenly as he felt the liquid break down in his body and fill himself with an immense magical energy. But he was too slow, by the time he recovered the undead were already drawing upon him, a putrid zombie and a revived argonian man. Letting out a few spell words in a hiss Secrets held out both palms, jets of flame shooting out at the undead and forcing them back. The necromancer held up a hand for a spell only to meet the flames as the argonian brought his hands together, centered on the altmer caster. The very moment the necromancer and his undead fell back Secrets held up his right hand. His spell words filling the air and his scaled hand resonating with a black cloud of energy. Yanis’ eyes widened as he realized what was happening, spell words already on his lips as he lashed out with a searing blast. Yet the portal opened just in time, the fire striking the creature within with such intensity as to fill the whole room with an immense heat. Yet it was futile, the flame and smoke clearing to reveal the argonian’s flame atronach, floating in place and body alight in it’s own radiant flame. “No! Damn you!” Yanis yelled, quickly holding out his free hand and chanting a spell. Darkness and flame rose up from his palm, the air distorting and finally fading to norm in the form of a daedric sword. Jumping back he swung wide, trying to keep the flame elemental from advancing upon him. The two undead rushed passed her, headlining for the argonian caster only to meet another blast of searing fire. Secrets’ hands alight with two streams of red hot flame aimed directly on the undead. Slowly, he rose from the ground, carefully chanting his spell words to maintain the attacks. The fires rushing over the combating atronach with absolutely no effect on her already smoldering body. The atronach broke off, sending a powerful ball of fire at the reanimated argonian’s already burning skull, causing it to fall to the ground, searing into ash and spreading the fire. The zombie leapt forward, landing on her back and struggling to bring her down, yet her skin seared against the undead’s rotten flesh, sending out rising streams of smoke and a horrid stench. “Die!” Yanis yelled, thrusting his newfound sword deeply into the flame atronach’s body, the flaming woman screeching loudly in pain before erupting into a huge, fiery explosion. The zombie being reduced to ash and armored altmer falling on his back. By the time Yanis was back on his feet the argonian was again missing from view, having run off to another side of the room. Spinning around the altmer shot off a surge of lightning, narrowly missing the argonian by only a few inches, and taking an arrow shot to his shoulder in return, to no effect. His eyes focused on the dark figure to see Secrets standing ready, a bow drawn and reaching for another arrow. “Damn you lizard!” Yanis yelled, extending his staff to the ground, eyes widening as he saw the many corpses of the room were already on fire and burning down to the bone. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the smell of burning corpses?” Secrets said with an insane grin and low, bestial growl. His grin rapidly fading to a snarling scowl. “I thought your kind loved everything about death.” “You think I can’t kill you without necromancy!?” Yanis yelled, throwing down his staff and dispersing his demonic blade. “I’ll burn you to a cinder, filthy reptile!” He said, starting to chant a spell as both hands ignited in a red flame. “And now time to DI-” His words were cut short, armor finally dispersing and an arrow burying itself dead in his left lung. His eyes went wide and face pale as he felt the life escaping him, blood building up in his chest and halting his breath. Realizing his fate the altmer reached down for his side bag, fumbling and shaking before another arrow shot through his arm. “Gah!” He yelled, stumbling back several feet before regaining his footing. “You really should pay closer attention to the duration of your conjuration spellss..” Secrets hissed, lining up another arrow. “Not that it’ll do you any good. Since you’ll be dead in a few more seconds. Any last words?” He asked, grinning wide as the necromancer gasped and coughed up pools of blood. A hand extending out as if to cast a spell that he just couldn’t utter. “No? Guess not.” Secrets finished, sending the last arrow flying out to strike the necromancer right between the eyes, his body falling back to the burning ground dead. But the flames didn’t stay back, rapidly growing from the many corpses to burn and filling the room with a thick smoke. Running forward the argonian stopped over his former foe’s body, quickly padding him down for anything valuable. Scooping the potion from the altmer’s side bag and swiftly plucking the strange amulet from around his neck. But something more caught his eye, the two black gloves worn by the necromancer. A slight shine of magic latent in the fabrics. With a wide grin Secrets pulled the gloves off, quickly stuffing all the small objects in his side bag before grabbing the staff and jumping back. The argonian’s eyes darted from the staff to the exit, narrowing on the flame rune impeded in the ground. After a short pause Secrets looked down at the corpse, seeing his escape. “Sorry Yanis, looks like I need to borrow your body for a moment.” He said, holding up the staff. He let out a few coughs as the smoke filled the room completely, bringing a robed sleeve to his nostrils to filter out the smell of burning flesh and hair. The staff came alive with a blue energy that flowed out from the skull tip, flowing out and enveloping the necromancer’s body. Slowly the corpse rose to his feet, his sleeves and robe singed and smoldering from the surrounding embers. “Oh poetic justice. How I love you sso.” Secrets said, flicking the staff to point at the exit and sending the necromancer’s lifeless body to walk over his own rune, setting it off with a massive, searing erupting of fire. “Thank you Yanis, I always knew we’d get along swimmingly.” Secrets chimed as he darted down the hall past the now burning cinders of his former Mage Guild associate. He stopped suddenly, eyes glancing down at the long line of runed tiles. “Oh yes… These thingss.” He said with an annoyed tone, carefully stepping on the wavy designed tiles as hastily as he could manage. The smoke had filled much of the tunnels, and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. Finally past the tiles he continued down the hall as quickly as he could, making his way around the various corners and finally reaching the ladder. Like all argonians, Secrets was a capable climber, scurrying up the ladder like a reptilian monkey and popping out the trap door, taking in a large gasp of fresh, albeit musky, air. Standing up he dusted the dust and soot from his now torn and tattered necromancer’s robes, letting out a frustrated sigh before peeling off the last shreds of cloth to reveal his heavy set mage’s robes beneath. “So much for that disguise… I look so good in black too.” He said, walking through the body filled room and inspecting his robes idly. His tail flicking from side to side in frustration at the many cuts and singed in the fabric. Not completely destroyed like the necromancer’s robes, but damaged all the same. Stopping in the center of the room Secrets flicked his tail again, knocking one of the main room’s chairs back up on it’s legs and sitting down, resting the staff against the overturned table. “Lets see what all this was about…” Reaching into his side bag Secrets produced the tome he had grabbed form the dungeon’s altar room, opening it up and flicking his free hand toward a corpse. Fire ignited from his palm and seared into the corpse of the dunmer woman on the ground, her body rearing up, kicking and flailing before going quiet. Secrets eyes widened in surprise, hand already on the hilt of his sword before the burning body died down, now serving it’s intended purpose as a campfire for reading light. “Heh, guess she wasn’t all the way dead after all.” Secrets said, smiling fondly at his work before turning back to the book and beginning to read it over, intent on getting down to the bottom of all these necromancer shenanigans. |
![]() |
|
| Monkey | Dec 14 2011, 11:43 PM Post #7 |
|
Rewards: +4 Conjuration, +4 Destruction, +3 Speech, +3 Bow, +2 Illusion The tome is filled with notes of the Necromancer's experiments involving soul trapping, raising corpses, various Alyeid ruins locations and locations of potential interest. Spells in the book: Soul Trap, Reanimate Corpse, Bound Sword. Staff Value: 25 gold/charge left. But there may be difficulty selling it in normal markets if the mage guild finds out. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() ZetaBoards gives you all the tools to create a successful discussion community. Learn More · Register for Free |
|
| « Previous Topic · Black Marsh · Next Topic » |







7:34 PM Jul 10