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Private [IC][18+][Horror] In the Name of Aetherius

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by Specter of Death, Sep 29, 2017.

  1. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Moderator
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    This is the Official [IC|In Character] Private Thread for the Roleplay "In the Name of Aetherius". This means only the writers will be allowed to post here, and they will only be posting as their characters. All out of character conversation is to be had in the Out of Character thread ONLY. If you are not a writer, and would like to talk to any of us, do so in the Out of Character thread ONLY. For information on the Cast, Characters, or Story, refer to the Out of Character Thread and ask your questions there ONLY. Thank You, Happy Reading!
    [Click here for the Prelude to "In the Name of Aetherius"]
    [Click here for the OOC Thread]

    -~~ 8 ~~-

    [​IMG]


    In the Name of Aetherius
    An Original Role Play Story by @Specter of Death

    Starring
    Lilium Lancif -- @Specter of Death
    Spenser Bergfalk -- @Zelda
    Jacoby Hlaalu -- @Snoball

    Music and Composure by Lucas King

    -~~ 8 ~~-

    Welcome to our little adventure of Nightmares and Shadows
    Please, listen to the music, set the tone while you read each entry that's provided with them
    It's important for each Adventure Development post between character peices
    Trust me


    "Schizophrenia" - composed by Lucas King

    Enjoy
     
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    #1 Specter of Death, Sep 29, 2017
    Last edited: Feb 19, 2018
  2. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Moderator
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    "Ghost" composed by Lucas King


    -~~8~~-

    Tamriel is dark. Unnaturally dark.

    Black and grey clouds swirl in the skies above the provinces. Their newfound and perminant home where blue skies and warm sun once were. Rain and thunderstorms have become a norm now, pouring the dreary and depressing colors out onto the roofs, streets and terrain. Skyrim is cold. Not as cold as it's terrible winters, but unnaturally so. Cold and rigid like that of a long dead corpse.

    It's denizens are panicked; fear stricken. Waking morning after morning with an anxiety towards the coming events of the day. Was it going to be as dark as the last? Darker even? More sinister? Looming over all of them like a predator stalking? Never do they know. Never are they prepared to face the nightmares in the evenings following their fearful days. Were they too going to lose their minds? Their souls? Would their neighbor wander into their homes while they tossed and turned to cut their throats? Were they to murder their neighbors while they slept?

    The dis-ease is infectious to those who are surrounded by it day in and day out. It's tendrils crawl into their every sense, every pore as they grow more and more nervous at the news they catch each day. Wanderers have more luck. Yet, the danger for them is much more dire; more lethal.

    Holes of darkness tear their way into the fabric of the mortal plane, dumping the contents of it's evil and vile inhabitants out to wander the world. These creatures are manifested, created, their origins only speculated to be from the dreams the people suffer. Wandering the wilds. Plaguing the life that lives there. Spreading the black of their forms with each step, bleeding it's shadows to spread along the paths they walk. Fueling the monstrous and vindictive sky above. Those who find themselves away from the plague of sleeping in terror, risk discovering their unnatural fates with the sight of these creatures. Luck can not be the defining word for their circumstances. Chance is more accurate.

    Whiterun. With walls, though crumbling, seems to be in the least state of disarray. It's protectors diligently and vigilantly quarantining the indoctrinated, zombie like civilians. Reacting to the individual terrors from person to person in the nights while they sleep. It's leadership holds true, despite the uncertainty that looms over him and his administration. Slowly this unclear path is crumbling around them, and before long this loose grip on sanity and control will slip like all the other capitals.

    Here you stumble, somehow unscathed and unknowing. Noticing only the odd weather patterns in your travels, and the sudden tension you feel upon your entry into the city. Suddenly you feel the looming darkness slowly surround you too. Instead of what should be fear, the will of your mind and personality holds inquisition.

    What is going on? What's plaguing this world? How have you not noticed until now?
     
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  3. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Moderator
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    Sundas, the tenth of Frostall, the year two hundred and three of the fourth era
    Sleeping Quarters, College of Winterhold

    Things are a little hectic and weird here now. If I were careless I may go as far as to say that’s the reason I haven’t written. But that wouldn’t be even the slightest bit true; I’m just lazy I suppose. At least when it comes to writing in this thing, anyway. Lately with everything else I’ve been anything but. I’ve been running around the college from floor to floor, section to section. From master mage, to master mage passing on information from our new Master Wizard.

    Faralda’s dream finally came true a few months ago, FINALLY. And she is taking it incredibly seriously. She’s been using me as her own personal aid, passing along information and direction from her, as she slowly tries to set things straight in the College again. Tolfdir isn’t a bad Archmage either, he’s been doing more and being more involved in everything than Savos ever was. Certainly more than our recently resigned failure of an Archmage.

    Today though, today I have decided I deserved to sleep in a few hours. I haven’t slept enough or even partially well since summer’s end. I needed a catch-up. I can already feel that the bags that were once under my eyes have faded today. That probably won’t last long.

    Being busy in this sense does have it’s perks though. I think I know more “private’ information than all the master mages, and I’m not sure why that is. But I think it might just be Tolfdir and Faralda attempting to contain any panic the information may cause. Faralda trusts me with her life, and I guess that means Tolfdir does as well- given the trust he has in Faralda. She’s told me about how the nightmares and complaints about “dark happenings” have only become increasingly more worrisome with every messenger that comes to our gates.

    Yes, I said gates. They couldn’t keep people from coming onto the bridge anymore, so Tolfdir decided that they would just lock the gates again - this time with people taking turns on guard duty.

    Anyway, apparently these dark occurrences that have been happening in the holds has destroyed the usefulness of the court wizards, because apparently the nightmares and sleepwalking landed them in the dungeons of their cities. According to Faralda, they have been wandering into people's homes and lashing out in sudden unwarranted fear. Lot’s of killing. Which is unfortunate. With all of this information in mind, Tolfdir and Faralda have refused to send an investigative party, as they aren’t sure what one mage can do- and are afraid to lead our mages to the same fate as the court wizards. Like mages might be the target of whatever is going on. And if they were to send a mage with the direction to hire and acquire help in their investigations, they aren’t sure there are any mages capable of successfully and confidently putting together the right combination of help.

    Can’t say I disagree. The master mages are all hermits, and often avoid talking to anyone outside of the College. The apprentices are all inexperienced, and are either socially awkward or afraid of talking to people. I’d venture to say the only one competent enough to get it done right would be Faralda. But she can’t leave the damned College, not without the entire thing falling apart again.

    I guess our hands are tied. I hope the Jarls can come together and work something out between themselves. They’ve got to be able to deal with this. I would hope so, anyway.

    Time to go see Faralda now, Apparently her and Tolfdir have some new news and ideas I need to be spreading. I wonder how much they are finally planning to share with the others.

    --

    "But I've only been here a year," the young she-elf's voice quietly protested in confusion, "certainly you'd want one of the more experienced mages to do this?"

    "Yes Lilium, we are both very aware of your short time here," Tolfdir replied calmly, without emotion, "however in the brief time the Dragonborn claimed the title of Archmage, he raved about your prowess and obsession with the craft."

    Lilium blinked at him blankly as her heart began to flutter nervously. Was she experienced enough to do what her masters were asking of her?

    "Since Tolfdir was appointed as Archmage, we have began to see an increasing amount of the dark activity throughout the holds," Faralda added lightly, "the Jarls are in panic, and suddenly the stubborn Nords are beating down our doors pleading for our aid."

    Lilium could only swell with a small tinge of pride, listening to the new Master Wizard speak. Faralda had always talked about achieving the position, and had almost lost hope once Tolfdir was appointed to the position; however brief he may have held the title. Hearing her now, talking so confidently and so comfortably gave Lilium hope. Her favorite teacher, her mentor - her friend; had achieved her life-long goal and trusted her enough to ask for her help.

    "Lilium," Faralda stepped forward, touched both of the young she-elf's shoulders with soft hands and stared deeply into her eyes, "I have watched you grow these last months, only to see you meet and exceed all goals and aspirations I had for you. The Dragonborn himself was impressed with you. We have only called you here because we- I know you are ready for this. You're one of the most talented Apprentices the College has had since Savos Aren was an Apprentice himself. I have never been so proud of one of my pupils, or so confident."

    Lilium looked at the Altmer woman and only saw an honest and almost desperate look behind the glow of pride she was showing as she spoke to her. Lilium nodded, and pulled the Master Wizard into her for a warm and comforting embrace. Her eyes began to water, as she buried her face into the woman's shoulder. Was her father as proud of her as Faralda was right now?

    "Faralda is one of the most trusted and powerful mage's in the College, and my appointed Master Wizard, Lilium," Tolfdir interrupted the tender moment, "I trust her word and her instinct as much as I do my own. We both know you can do this, and if you are to continue in your place here at college, you must."

    "You know you can do this too, Lily," Faralda kissed Lilium's forehead gently as they separated, and nodded at her through her own tearful eyes as she returned to Tolfdir's side. "I know it's dangerous, and I know that it will be the hardest test you have ever faced, but I also know that you cannot do this alone. We will be paying whatever amount you deem necessary to acquire whatever help you think you need."

    Lilium wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked down at her feet. Her mind was still racing with thoughts of uncertainty and insecurity, but with every exhale of her breath the warmth and pride of her masters filled her heart, replacing those feelings with confidence and motivation. "I'll begin my preparations at once!"

    --

    Morndas, the eleventh of Frostfall, the year two hundred and three of the fourth era
    Just outside Whiterun

    Yesterday was as far from what I expected as I think it could be. I never expected that they were prepared to send somebody to investigate after insisting it was the last thing they wanted to do. It was the last thing I expected when they asked ME to do so. I'm still uncertain. Nervous. I've never been given the task of working for the College by myself, let alone out beyond the city and College itself. I'm not really sure where to start.

    I know I am going to need help, somebody- no more than one person, to help me. Especially given the mysterious circumstances which I am to be investigating. It's funny, I think I am already beginning to notice just how weird the messengers have said things are. I thought the clouds in the sky were just regular Winterhold weather, just a bit more dark and thunderous. But the sky hasn't changed in the slightest since the carriage departed. The driver has a crossbow and a greatsword right next to him at the ready as well.

    What exactly warrants such vigilance? What's with the unusual weather?

    I suppose those are the questions I am going to keep asking while I search for their answers. Now I am getting ideas as to who I need to be looking for when it comes to my party of help. I'm going to need somebody strong. Powerful in battle, and not afraid to fight.

    Hmm, odds are I'm going to have to be traversing outside of the cities to investigate, as the abnormalities have been heavily reported outside the capitals as well as in. So a guide for the wilds and terrain. I haven't been away from Winterhold since Solitude, and even then I didn't go anywhere outside of the road the carriage took us on, so I'm going to need an expert. Somebody decently knowledgeable about the province and how to get from place to place.

    I think the last type of someone I'll need to have at my disposal is somebody...quiet. I don't know if we're going to be sneaking around or anything like that, but I don't want to take any risks. We'll need somebody who holds particular expertise in that realm.

    Having all of them know how to do combat would be fantastic too. I haven't really practiced too often on enemies outside of the few draugr and skeletons in Saarthal, but I know I can do battle. I also know I can support my party well too.

    It's a plan then. Warrior, Guide, Reconnaissance. A thousand gold should be more than enough, 200 each and 300 for anything we may need along the way.

    I hope to get to the city soon. I'm starting to get an unsettling feeling in my stomach. Like the feeling I used to get when J'zargo would watch me while I read in the Arcaneum. Am I being watched?

    Can't be more than 15 minutes now. I'm gonna read to distract from these uncomfortable thoughts.
     
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  4. Snoball

    Snoball One pretty swell dood

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    Where is my mind?

    Here I sit on the cold stone of this wretched dungeon, these Whiterun guards eyeing me beyond these bars like I'm some damn animal. On Soltheim I'd be barking demands and threatening to gut one of these men if I wasn't set free. But here I am. No words, no demands. Just, silence.

    I sometimes think about the circumstances leading to this point. Did I intentionally fail my last contract? Was it all to get away from the madness outside these walls? The weather isn't right... or is it my simply mind? I don't understand what's happening out there, and maybe there's a part of me that doesn't want to understand. My stomach turns looking out there, but I don't know why. Is this what fear feels like?

    Too many questions to be answered out there, none to be answered in here. This prison is an absolute. My actions have led me to this dead-end and I needn't ask anymore. Maybe it's cowardice, or maybe it's owning up to everything I've done. Whether I have the courage to man up to the outside world is a topic best left for another time. As I stare at these shackles that bind me here, I do know something that is truly certain.

    I deserve this.


    --

    "tHiS IS THE eND Of USss! I ssSWEAR ITTT!" It was that time of day again. Jacoby awoke from the stone floor of his cell in the Dragonreach dungeon thanks to the ramblings of the lunatic prisoner just across from him. The madman had string-like, greasy long hair and about as many teeth as the fingers he had on one hand. He had been imprisoned here long before Jacoby was sentenced, and the loner Dunmer had to deal with his ramblings ever since. "HeEd mY wORdS! YoU musSSt!" Audible sighs could be heard from the guards and other prisoners in their cells. After seeing the guards were paying no mind to him, he gripped the bars and began rambling to Jacoby just across from him. "LiSSsten to ME eLF! The EndLeSSSS niGHt CoMEs! For YOU. FOR ME."

    "I am aware, fool." Jacoby never knew what the man meant, but would constantly be reminded of this same phrase every single day for the past six months by the lunatic. The dunmer sits cross-legged against the wall, never turning to face him. "You keep feeding me this goddamned line every waking evening. old man. The only thing that comes to me are the damn migraines you never fail to provide me. And the only thing coming for YOU is me, if for one second you can't give me some peace and quiet." Jacoby takes a deep breath and calms down. And surprisingly, there it was. For once he had the moment of silence that he had been pining for. The madman goes silent, and sits against the wall in a similar fashion to Jacoby. The Dunmer's mind trailed off, and he looked off into the distance. He remembers Solstheim, how things used to be, before coming to Skyrim. He recalls a time when the aura of fear and anxiety plaguing Tamriel didn't exist. A better time.

    "The dreamsss, you've had them too, no?" The lunatic's voice snaps Jacoby back from his pleasant trance. Interestingly, his voice was slightly more coherent and less stuttery, but still carried a tone of wildness to it. "I've been outside the wallsss. I've sssseen them with my own eyesss." He now has Jacoby's full attention. The curious Dunmer now goes up to the bars, much like the lunatic had done before.

    "Seen what exactly?" Jacoby is calm, but the lunatic gives no answer. He simply chuckles and then lays on his side, back facing away from the dark elf. "You have my attention, old man! This is what you wanted, right? ANSWER ME!" Jacoby clenches the rusty bars tight with his wrapped hands. The noise he makes prompts one of the guards to tell him to keep it down over there. Jacoby sinks down to one knee, not being able to get a response from the madman, or so he thought.

    "Your fear, I've felt it before. It is not misssplaced. You have every right to be." Jacoby listens on intently, as the man is still turned away from him. "It isss too late for me to confront the oncoming night. But not you, elf. Dwell on that." The old man throws a sheet over himself and doesn't say anymore. Jacoby is left alone to ponder the man's words.

    The day goes by as any other, except the lunatic remains sleeping the whole way through. This surprises the guards, as this is the first time in months he hasn't rambled for the whole day. It's almost as if he was simply waiting for someone to finally hear him out.

    --

    I suppose only time will tell.
     
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  5. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    "Honey, where is my diamond necklace?" "In the third chest on the left." "Ah, of course! Silly me!" Thud. "HEY! WATCH THE BUMPS ON THE ROAD YOU LOUSY POOR-EXCUSE OF A CARRIAGE DRIVER!!" The insult bellowed from within the carriage-caravan mutation, rupturing any eardrums that were within range. The driver did not respond, but the mercenary had a feeling he rolled his eyes all the way to Sovengarde.

    Step by step, the tall male continued to survey the area to protect the small yet filled-to-the-brim horse-drawn monstrosity. It was the only small but mighty caravan with the capability to hide so many things within it. This time he was hired to travel with a noble family on the run. Something about petty politics.

    "When are we gonna be there mama?" A little girl spoke, her legs swinging back and forth as she sat on the back of the caravan. It was a safe enough area for her to take a breather. Her baby brother though, was still inside the caravan cradled either by the father or mother who checked the belongings they could quickly grab... which was a lot. "Soon soon... Whiterun is not too far away... now honey where is my jewel-encrusted silverware?"

    A long sigh left the little girl whose braided pigtails swayed with the carriage. Spenser continued his watch, but felt at ease due to the area. The only thing he had to look for were wolves - something easy to rid of - and giants - something large to see from a distance. Bandits were far too predictable with how many he's run into. However, he was worried about the weather, and the terrible news about nightmares and murders across the lands. He had his fair share of both, and never wanted anyone else to feel its woe.

    "I'm bored... hey mister, know any good games I could play? You can play with me!" The little girl chirped, smiling. She had a loud mouth - like her mother. However, unlike most spoiled children who came with the rich families he was paid to protect, she was not a brat. A better term for her would be... rambunctious. The mercenary let out a smile, nodding his head. "Alright... ever heard of the game Archer's Target?"

    The little girl put a finger to her lips, looking up at the sky, then quickly shook her head. "Nope! Howd'ya play it?" She asked, grinning ear to ear. Spenser took another glimpse of the area before looking back to the girl with his own grin. "It's where you spy on something - like an archer does - and the other person has to guess what they are aiming at with their eyes. So I would say I spy with my archer's eye something... blue! And you would have to guess what it is. If you get it right within three guesses, you win!"

    The girl sat still as she listened, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Woah that sounds like a fun game, mister! I'll go first okay! Hmm..." The little girl pondered deeply in thought, as if thinking of something philosophical, before grinning with trickery in her eyes. "I spy something with my archer's eye something... green!"
     
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