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Irishman

Well-Endowed Member
The thick plottens!!

Excellent story, keep up the good work :)
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
"He'd kill ten thousand people-With a sleight of his hand-Running far, running fast to the dead." -Sufjan Stevens "John Wayne Gacy Jr."
Chapter 19: Reunited
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The Jester sprinted through Falkreath and into the woods to the West, finding dead bodies clad in imperial and Penitus Occulatus armor. Blood caked the ground and the grass sloshed and flicked bloody dew up his leg as The Jester walked to the dark door. Deep cuts through each of the imperial bodies hinted of swift sword and dagger strikes. The door to the sanctuary was broken in, and the stairway was littered with charred body parts and strewn with broken stone from the walls, obviously the remnants of an explosion in attempts to breach the sanctuary. Upon further investigation, The Jester noticed unlit, lighter-fluid, which lead to a burnt and broken main-room. The dirt and cobblestone on the floor was torn and pushed away, revealing the ugly foundations of the sanctuary, which had also burned. Weeping could be heard in the Night-Mother's room. The Jester moved around and through dead bodies, to find the source. The stench was horrible, the sight horrifying. He moved faster as the weeping became yelling, yelling to screaming, screaming to cursing the gods, then back to a whimper. The Jester threw open the door. There lay Cicero, surrounded by imperial bodies. The clown suffered from a deep stab to his stomach. "Jester..." He whimpered, "Leave this place. They know... everything. About me, you..." He said before bursting into another onset of tears. The Jester finally saw the source of his pain. The tomb of the night mother had been pried open, the body of their sacred "mother" burnt to ash. "She's gone..." He said, falling to the floor. The Jester slapped him lightly in the face. "Stay awake! You need healing!" He yelled. He threw Cicero over his shoulder and bounded out of the sanctuary. Cicero fought to stay inside with his mother, but he was too weak and had lost too much blood.
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The Jester whistled for his horse, and from the gooey puddle emerged Shadowmere. "Thank you, friend. Ride fast." He said to the horse. He saddled up and fastened Cicero gently behind him. They rode quickly North."What did you tell them?!" The Jester yelled back. "Everyth... For Mother." He said, blood dripping from his cut lips. They rode north towards Rorikstead at the speed of light. Minutes felt like hours as Cicero was coughing and dripping blood. The small town of Rorikstead finally came into view. "Where are we going..." Cicero moaned. "They've probably got your face posted on the gates of every hold by now. We can't get you to the Temple of Kynareth because they'd recognize you!" He shouted, angrily. Shadowmere slowed to a gallop in-front of a certain house. The Jester slung Cicero over his shoulder and ran inside. An old woman looked at the two for a moment, before smiling and laughing. "Oh Peyton! It has been too long!" She shouted, hobbling over to him and kissing him on his dirty forehead. "Hello grandmother. My friend!" He shouted, laying Cicero on the table.
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"Oh dear!" she exclaimed. "Is it really that bad?" Cicero asked. "Oh no, darling. Grammy will have you spick and span before you know it!" She said, moving to the back room of the house. Cicero looked at The Jester with an unsure glance. "Trust me. She used to be a priestess." He laughed. Cicero nodded and looked to the ceiling as Grandma came back. "Oh, Peyton. Be a doll and hold these for me?" she asked, handing him a set of needles and suturing equipment. She cast a healing spell on Cicero's wounds, and he groaned in agony. "I'm gonna need a needle and thread now, baby." she said with un-real calmness. She held the needle over the fire by a string for a few moments, then hovered it over the wound. Cicero saw her shaky hands and grunted with exhaustion. "You know what you're doing?" Cicero asked. "Shh" She said, putting a quieting finger on his lips and placing a wet rag on his forehead. She began sewing him up. It hurt, but Cicero was used to being put back together.
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"It wasn't that bad, but it's deep." she said, finishing with a light healing spell. "No traveling or playing outside for about a week." Both of the jesters grunted, as this had set their plans back. "Is there any way for him to be healed sooner?" "Oh, actually yes, there is!" She said. They sighed with relief. Happy faces turned to disappointment when they saw what Grandma had in mind. "Hot tea always makes me feel better." she said sweetly. She also placed new clothes on the table for both of them. The Jester felt good, getting out of those tattered and muddy pants. They settled for what they had, and sat at the dinner table with her. "What are you doing nowadays, Peyton?" "Well, as you know, Skyrim is looking for a new high king. You remember when I was his merry-man?" "Of course I do, dear. You were such a funny man. I'm sure you still are." "I'm somewhat of a politician now." He said. "Have you considered marriage yet?" she asked expectedly. "Oh, not this again." he sighed. She lectured him for a good ten minutes, but the Jester seemed like he was used to it. "Would it be alright if we stayed here for a few days?" he asked after a minute of silence. "Of course. But what is your name, sweety?" "Cicero! And I'm feeling much better." he replied. "Well, Cicero. You can call me grandma. If you need anything, you can just call me." Grandma went upstairs and brought back sewing equipment. "Can you move?" He asked Cicero. Cicero got up and tested his legs. "I can stand." he replied. "Let's go outside."
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"What happened?" The Jester asked calmly. "I left Whiterun and travelled through Falkreath. I saw smoke in the distance, but thought nothing of it. All the townsfolk looked at me with suspicion as I moved through. That should have been my first warning." He explained. The Jester stroked his chin, trying to imagine the situation. "I continued on, the familiar smell of... charred bodies. I saw imperials guarding the sanctuary, and I was stopped along the road. The first hand they placed on me was cut off... I had no clue I was capable of killing so many..." The Jester patted him on the back, comfortingly. "Moved in and killed so many more. Apparently the Dark Brotherhood were not yet finished." He said. The Jester felt immense guilt for letting Veezara live. This really was his fault. "I ran to Mother's room, but there were men standing around. Her body... just... ash." He said, letting a few manly tears escape before completely losing it. He sobbed, and had to sit down on the ground, pulling his hair. "I could have saved her. I could have..." "No, Cicero. None of this is your fault." "That's easy for you to say! You're not the keeper!" He yelled, slapping his arm away and pushing The Jester away from where he was sitting. He stood slowly, placing his hand on his wound. "They stabbed me! I bargained for my life. I told them everything. And to their horror, I rose. I sliced them up! Into little... tiny... Pieces!! Some ran, the smart ones! They'll pay for what they've done!!" He was yelling now. The Jester raised a hand to calm him, but it was slapped down. "Shut up! This would never have happened had I not met you! Just get away from me! Everything I love is gone!" He screamed, hustling to Grandma's house.
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The Jester felt somewhat betrayed, but knew this was his fault. He walked down the road, passing many familiar faces along the way. Grandmother's house. So comforting. Not this time. He thought, pacing back and forth through the town, thinking of a new game plan. We'll have to start from scratch. If all else fails, I still have that ace up my sleeve. The Jagged Crown. He grinned, just thinking about the fabled artifact. The log. Outside the sanctuary. The perfect hiding place. He thought. He was plotting, scheming, planning. There had to be a way to reach Ulfric, but there was no chance of traveling while bounties were surely put on their heads. I'll have to play this smart.
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
The best revenge is massive success. -Frank Sinatra
Chapter 20: Progress East
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The Jester sat and plotted while watching the farm-hands work. He couldn't help but gaze at the birds and enjoy life. Oh, I could live such a good life if I tried. Oh, Ulfric, I hope I can arrange a meeting with you to... discuss matters. He thought. But how would I get to you? If you hear that the jesters are back, there will be no surprise! There is no time to plan! Only to act! He concluded in his mind. Walking into Grandmother's house, he asked "Aye, Gram. Do you know where I can get some weapons?" "What on earth would you need weapons for, sweety?" she asked with a soft voice. "No reason, just self-defense, I guess." he lied. "You don't need self-defense if you have love, darling!" Gram chuckled. She turned and opened a drawer, removing an iron war-axe. "Here you go. Be careful with it, it used to be your grand-father's!" "Yes, Gram." He replied. "Are you sure it will be enough?" she asked. "Yes. More than enough."
__________/2\__________
Three imperial men stormed into Castle Dour, shouting "Tullius! A large group of imperial soldiers have been murdered in an attempt to destroy the Dark Brotherhood. They say it was The Jester himself!" "Impossible. The Jester was executed by Ulfric a week ago. Was it his friend? Cicero? Is he still alive?" "I assume so, he killed all of them! He was taken North by a bald imperial man!" He said in despair. "Good. With Cicero still alive, we may be able to locate the Jagged Crown!" He said with enthusiasm. "Rikke, I need bounty hunters. Good ones." "Sir, can't the legion handle this clown?" the men asked. "You fools! I've lost entire battalions to the Jesters! I won't lose another man to this clown!" He shouted in response. Rikke saluted and walked briskly out of the Dour.
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"Grandmother, do you happen to have the extra Jester's uniform I left with you long ago?" "Of course I do! I would never let something like that go unless you needed it!" "Now would be the time."
he said. Grandmother went upstairs and brought back the Jester's Garb. She laid the nicely-folded fabric softly on the table, as to not wrinkle it. "Sorry, dear, but I seem to have lost the little red cloak that came with it. " "Oh, the memories." he said. "Don't worry, I've washed them." The Jester changed into them. He relaxed, feeling at-home in these old clothes. "Tell Cicero I am leaving for Whiterun when you next see him.""Yes, dear." she said. The Jester left and untied Shadowmere, who was tied to a post out-front. "See you soon, Gram!" He called. She waved slowly from the door-frame, smiling. He travelled on the road to Whiterun, but took a dirt trail that led to the Sanctuary. He dismounted Shadowmere and went to the hollowed-out log. He sighed with relief when he found the Jagged Crown, neatly folded in his Jester's-Cloak, right where he had left it. He unrolled the clothes, tied the cloak around his neck, and donned the Jagged Crown.

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He arrived in Whiterun, being careful to dodge any other towns or settlements in fear of being spotted. The front-gate was out of the question, so he scrambled over a small gate and climbed the stone-wall behind the Winds-District. He hopped down, gracefully, sneaked between buildings, and went into Belethor's shop. "Ah, Belethor. Good friend. Long time no see!" He announced. "What do you think you're doing! You and your friend have a bounty on your heads for a collective Fifty Thousand Septims! Get out of my shop!" He yelled. "I need a lute." The Jester replied, bluntly. "Okay." He said, calming himself. He picked out a blue lute from his stock and handed it to The Jester slowly. His hands shook with fear. The Jester's hand clasped around the neck of the instrument, but Belethor unsheathed his iron-dagger and swung at him. The Jester winked at the sound of the dagger being drawn. He turned invisible, appearing behind Belethor with his axe to his neck. Belethor gasped and fell to his knees. "How did you know I would... try?" he panted. "This is the first time you didn't ask for gold before handing over the merchandise, you greedy bastard." The Jester laughed. He dropped a small coin-purse on the counter and left.​
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The Jester stepped out of the shop and into the open, evening air. He adjusted his elaborate garb and fixed the crown on his head. He moved shadily towards Dragons-Reach, and across the bridge. He almost jumped for joy when the guards let him in. They did not recognize him, but noticed his elaborate head-dress. Jarl Balgruuf straightened his posture when he saw he had a visitor. The Jester came into view as he ascended the stairs. He played the tune to "Song of Skyrim" on his lute and sang:​
"The Age of Transgression"

"Good-Bye to our youth, For The Jester has come. And Ulfric's Transgressions are just about done. We'll drive out the Evil and take what we own. In your blood, you'll find steel, which has made you it's home! Down with Ulfric! The killer of kings! On the day of your death we will drink and we'll sing. You've no Birthright in Skyrim, you'll see with your eyes, how The Jester comes calling with his knife in the night! Now, this land is mine, and I'll see it wiped clean.Of the scourge that has murdered Skyrim's great High-King!
Down with Ulfric! The killer of kings!On the day of your death we will drink and we'll sing.You've no Birthright in Skyrim, you'll see with your eyes, how The Jester comes calling with his knife in the night!!
Good-Bye to our youth, For The Jester has come. And Ulfric's Transgressions are just about done."
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All those who were in the Jarl's court were stupefied. They were unable to make sense of what just happened. A cold shiver crept up the spine of the jarl and his men. "So you are The Jester I've heard so much about. I feel disgusted that you were allowed into my court. Now that you're here, I suppose nothing is stopping me from killing you where you stand. Archers!" he called. The jarl's men drew their bows and aimed at The Jester. He stepped into the light, revealing the crown. Horror arose in Balgruuf's stomach as he recognized the Jagged Crown. "Hold Fire! Stop!" He yelled. "Where did you find that?" He shouted. "What, this?" he asked, lightly fingering the spikes of the crown. "I stumbled upon it on one of my morning walks!" He jested. He liked the feel of being The Fool. "But, however, if I don't get what I've come here for, I'll destroy the crown. It's actually not as strong as it looks. Just like the nordic tradition it holds. Am I right, Jarl?" He said, mocking. "Gah! You little Pea-Brain! You dare mock our tradition and our fathers?" He said. The guards drew their bows yet again. The Jester drew his war-axe and rested it on the middle of the crown. "No, Guards! I command you hold your fire!" He yelled again. "Fine Jester. You have me at my end. What do you want." He grunted, miserably. "Only one thing, I want you see? For but a few days, a Jarl I'd like to be!" He rhymed, playing a small tune on his lute as he did so. "What would you do with a few days as Jarl?" He shouted angrily. He played a slower, more dramatic song now, "Nothing big, nothing festive. For only one reason. To send Ulfric a message."
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free -Johann Wolfgang von Geothe
Chapter 21: Message Delivered
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The massive doors of the Palace of Kings were swung open. In came a small messenger boy, running to Ulfric, but stopped by his advisor. "Message from Whiterun!"
He said proudly.​
"Go on."
said Ulfric. The boy pulled out a familiar scroll, one Ulfric had seen before. He gulped with dread as he remembered the parchment on which the message had been written. It read:​

Torygg Highest of Kings, Jarl Ulfric, O' Highest Liar
You, by code of law, are required to accept any challenge given by any jarl of the holds of Skyrim. I, Ulfric Stormcloak, challenge you to a duel to the death. I will arrive, with personal guard, at the sunrise of Morndas.
The Jester
-Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm

-The Jester, Newly Appointed Jarl of Whiterun
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The messenger re-rolled the scroll and handed it to Ulfric, who sat motionless with an awe-struck expression painted on his face. Everybody in Ulfric's court was silent and watching. Galmar grunted in question. "Shall I prepare the Front-Court for a duel?" "It has become apparent to me that Whiterun has turned against us. Thane, what say you?" He asked a man in stormcloak armor, donning a horned, iron helmet. "We attack." He replied, bluntly. Ulfric nodded. "We attack." He said with conclusion. "I want an army marched into the Whiterun Hold in two days' time. I also want a battalion of troops guarding Windhelm and her peoples." "Yes, my king!" Galmar shouted.
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The Jester rose from his throne. He removed the Jagged Crown from his head, and left the Great Hall of Jorrvaskr, dropping the Jagged Crown at the door. A single sentence escaped from his lips to Balgruuf. "Prepare, Jarl, you'll need more than a simple House-Carl." He said, leaving the warm abode and moving towards the Sky-Forge. He ascended the steps and received dirty looks from the men and women below. The old man, Eorland greeted him grudgingly. "You've got guts to roam Whiterun like this. If it was my say, I would have a Sky-Forge sword between your eyes." "I come to this Sky-Forge for it's perfect metal, and for the honor, in which you mettle. So without confrontation, we will hopefully settle. I need your skills, not your mind, if you won't help me, another I will find! What I need is actually quite simple, but the metal shall be without imperfect dimple. Only your best, I want in my hold. And in return, limitless gold." Eorland pressed his temples against The Jester's rhymes. "You're right to say I honor my craft, but I don't have to help you, Jester."
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The Jester grinned darkly. He recalled a poem Cicero had told him regarding the Companions, Eorland's employers. "So 'Time to Die!' says the beast, and came to me in search of a feast, until his strength had ceased. When Mr. Beasty's attacks had ceased, old Cicero's pace increased, and when the Wolf's life-force had decreased, Mr. Beasty had become deceased. A certain friend of mine had said 'a Companion has been found dead!' and then I realized whose blood had been bled. A hero's blood I had shed, in defense of his people to whom he was wed! The story's moral is truly it's boon, never walk Whiterun under a full moon." The Jester said, accusingly. "You are no man. A coward is what you are." "Oh, I'm offended!" The Jester mocked, raising a womanly hand in defense. "What do you want, you child." he grunted. The Jester leaned in, but Eorland backed up in defense. The Jester put a hand to his mouth and whispered in Eorland's ear. "Impossible! That would take more than a few days to finish!" He yelled. "I'm sure you'll say otherwise when you see your pay." The Jester grinned. "Better get started." He said as he turned and walked away.
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He exited Whiterun and walked to the carriage-driver. "I'd like to hire your carriage, sir." "Where to?" The man asked. "The giant's camp North of town." The Jester said. "Don't worry, I am on good terms with them." "That's what the last fellow said, but I suppose I could take you." He said. The Jester hopped in and dropped a coinpurse onto the man's lap. The Jester thought of Adeline, the oracle. He planned visit, but concluded that there was no time to waste. "Wait until I'm finished, and you'll get more gold." He said, ensuring the driver's loyalty. They arrived at the giant's camp, and received suspicious looks from the large men before hearing one call out "Ab Gyang Na!" Before long, all of the giants began to cheer at their king's return. The Jester gathered the giants to his throne and he stood on the seat. He spent hours trying to translate his message to them, but after countless attempts, they understood his plea. They conversed amongst themselves with incomprehensible gargles. They bowed before The Jester, and again, he felt immense power. He loaded as much of the giant's gold as possible into a sack, and had one of the giants carry it to the cart. The Jester gave the carriage driver a solid-gold egg. What the giants needed this egg for was uncertain, but the poor cabby appreciated it. "Back to Whiterun, I suppose?" "Yes, my good friend, yes."
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The Jester dragged the gigantic sack of gold through the streets and called to Eorland to help him unload when he reached Jorrvaskr. They began lugging it up the steps to the Sky-Forge. "What's in here? Rocks?" "No! Metals!" The Jester called back. Sunset was approaching fast. "Take a look. Will this be enough to cover the expenses?" Eorland opened the neck of the sack, and almost fainted when he laid his eyes upon the gold. "I want the project to be finished by tomorrow night." The Jester said. It seemed nearly impossible for any human to accomplish. "Good, then I will hire many men to accompany me!" He laughed. "Go. Return tomorrow night." He said, turning to his forge and cracking his knuckles.​
Meanwhile...
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Cicero returned from a long hunt to Rorikstead, a deer slung over his shoulder with a clean knife cut along it's throat. Several stab marks were visible along the animal's abdomen, a poor attempt to release anger and frustration. He walked into Grandma's house and laid the animal on the table. "Hello dear!" she called. "Peyton wanted me to tell you that he was heading to Whiterun. And a lizard came to town earlier today. He said he was looking for you. Oh, Cicero, You must be very popular!" she said softly, obviously unaware of the danger. "Did the lizard say where he would be?" "Not exactly, but he said he would be at his childhood home, but that's all. If you don't mind me, I've got some errands to run. Help yourself to anything you find!" she said. Cicero grinned, grabbed an apple off of a nearby shelf, and wandered South. He approached the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, where he found that the dead imperial's bodies had disappeared, and the only figure there was an argonian man, laying on the hollowed log. "Veezara" He said. "I knew you would come." the man replied. "Why did you call me?" "The Jester. He's digging deeper. He'll be going after Ulfric soon, from what I see. My friend in Whiterun told me that he had taken the Jarl's throne just to send a message to him." "I don't care. Me and him are finished." He said, sounding surprisingly sane.
__________/8\__________
"What do you mean finished?" he asked. "Don't you see? The Jester is the reason for all of this! Why do you care?" "Because he spared me when he had no reason to. Believe it or not, Cicero, this man has honor." "Oh, please!" Cicero cried. "Honorable is not a word to describe this man!" he lashed out in a crazed tone "He is an animal! He kills with no remorse and only cares about his revenge!" "Is revenge a bad thing, Cicero?" "No, I don't suppose so." he said, defeated. He hated The Jester and wanted him dead for being a means to the Brotherhood's demise, but knew that it was unreasonable. "To be honest, he is more honorable than I am. He at least has the courage to seek vengeance." he said, pouting. "Cicero, what is that supposed to mean?" "It means I'm nothing but a coward! I will avenge mother. Whether I have his help or not!" "Help him first, Cicero. Your anger blinds you." "Why help him? You said yourself that revenge isn't bad!" "Brother, if Ulfric is not dealt with first, the empire will be in defense. If Ulfric is dead, then the empire will attack, focusing all it's attention on one goal. That is the time to strike." he said. Darkness rose and took over the night sky, while Cicero and Veezara travelled to Whiterun.
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared. -Niccolo Machiavelli
Chapter 22: The Final Piece
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The Jester awoke from a poor night's sleep in the Bannered Mare. He slept very lightly, as to detect any would-be killers that would try to hinder his plan, or his life. He rose, planning his day very carefully. He walked down the stairs to find a large fire and shadowy figures. He scanned for familiar faces. None. He exited the Bannered Mare, shielding his eyes from the sun, and went to check on Eorland's progress. He noticed a fruit stand, and bought an orange. He peeled it and ate a single slice. "Isn't it a little late into the year for oranges?" he asked the vender. "Yep" she replied "Last oranges of the season!" the woman said. She sounded like Adeline. The Jester missed her. He ascended the steps to the Winds District and noticed footsteps behind him. It was a young man with two scimitars strapped to his back and one on his side.Three swords? He is trying hard to make a point. But what? The Jester asked himself. He went up the steps briskly and stopped with his back to the stone wall which directly proceeded the stairs, taking himself out of the man's view. The mysterious man followed in his footsteps, and when he reached the top, he swung his scimitar to where he presumed The Jester to be standing. His sword clashed against the cobblestone, sparking. The Jester was gone.
__________/2\__________​
The Jester had cast invisibility and sprinted from the spot where he was, mere seconds away from being sliced by the curved sword, scaled the defensive walls of Whiterun, and ran at a fast as he could towards Adeline's cave. After many minutes of travel, he arrived at the doors to her home and knocked hard. The same man as before opened the doors cautiously. He ushered The Jester in and motioned towards a seat. The Jester sat, awaiting the Lady of the Vine. After some time, she finally appeared. Her image brought him relaxation and ease. "Ah, you've finally arrived!" she said. "Forgive me, Adeline." he said, removing his jester's hat. "Something unexpected arose which I had to take care of." "He's okay, you know." she said, expectingly. "Who?" he asked. "Cicero! He'll be coming to Whiterun soon. I've received it in a vision." "I'm not going back there." he said. "Either bounty hunters or assassins have come for me." "You have to go tonight. I feel a sense of urgency. You have to go." "How does that work exactly? That thing you have? Are you sure it's reliable?" he asked. She nodded. "Stay here for the day, and return in the evening." she said. The Jester complied.
__________/3\__________​
The Jester spent the day marveling at the unique and tropical plants in the girl's collection. He again came across the plant with large, green jaws that preyed on insects. "What is this one?" he asked her. "That's the Elsweyrian Predator. It's sweet juices attract flies, and when the moment is right, it clamps it's jaws shut. It's interesting because the sweet liquid is actually acidic, which digests the insects for the plant itself." she replied. The Jester smiled. "Innocence. Life's greatest illusion." he said. Adeline raised her eyes from the plant to meet his. "I must be going." he said, slowly. She understood and nodded. "I appreciate your visit, although it was dreadfully late." she smiled.
__________/4\__________​
The Jester walked back to Whiterun, attentively searching for the man with the scimitars. He approached the gates, but was stopped by the guards. "You think you're getting through, coward? You're sadly mistaken. Your friends caused quite a scene earlier. This town has had enough of your kind!" they said, drawing imperial swords. One of the men charged, but his sword-arm was stopped before gaining momentum. The Jester struck him quickly in the stomach, putting him to his knees. The Jester ran, his lute bouncing on his back. Night was falling on the town, and The Jester ascended the wall near the Sky-Forge nimbly. He saw Eorland and dozens of assistants working on the finishing touches on the project. "Are you finished?" he asked. "Yes. A few men came by looking for you. They didn't go twenty minutes without killing somebody." he replied. The Jester smacked himself in the forehead, disappointed in them. "Straight-up murdered a man in the streets. Had me question myself about helping you for a moment. The man turned out to be a bounty hunter. Looking for you." he said. Although The Jester was relieved the man was dead, he was extremely sad. The boy did not have to die. The Jester deserved to die for the many things he had done. Him, Cicero, and Veezara all deserved death, but only others have died in their place.​
__________/5\__________​
"I'm not allowed in Whiterun anymore." he whispered. "I need you to deliver it to the giant's camp, North of town." he grinned. Eorland sighed, "I'll be so glad when this is over." he said in a deep nordic accent. "You speak for us both." he said. They both nodded, and he left, going to the camp. He waited for about an hour before a large cart came, loaded to the brim with Sky-Forged steel. The back of the cart opened, letting pieces of metal loose. A man stepped down from the reins. "Jester! Eorland wanted you to have this as appreciation for your business." he said, handing him a sharpened dagger made of Sky-Forge steel. "He says it's one of the sharpest blades money can buy." The Jester had the giants unload the cart and place the contents neatly in a row. The Jester pointed to the metal, the giants understood immediately. The Jester grinned as he saw how perfectly his plan had worked. There they stood, seven giants and a single mammoth: armed, armored, and prepared for an all-out assault in Windhelm and the traitor, Ulfric.​
 

HappyFaceClown

PunkNation
seriously can't say enough about this, even tho i highly admire Ulfric in Skyrim and don't agree with him being a villain, this story is a masterpiece! you should seriously try to get it published..
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
seriously can't say enough about this, even tho i highly admire Ulfric in Skyrim and don't agree with him being a villain, this story is a masterpiece! you should seriously try to get it published..
I agree completely! My characters have always helped the Stormcloak rebellion because I flat-out hate the empire for their ignorance, but The Jester has seen the darker side of Ulfric and is trying to save a dying country, one without the thalmor OR the stormcloak arrogance. I haven't really been motivated to finish this story, but I promise it will be done soon! ;)
 

HappyFaceClown

PunkNation
seriously can't say enough about this, even tho i highly admire Ulfric in Skyrim and don't agree with him being a villain, this story is a masterpiece! you should seriously try to get it published..
I agree completely! My characters have always helped the Stormcloak rebellion because I flat-out hate the empire for their ignorance, but The Jester has seen the darker side of Ulfric and is trying to save a dying country, one without the thalmor OR the stormcloak arrogance. I haven't really been motivated to finish this story, but I promise it will be done soon! ;)
awesome bro! take your time, i wouldn't rush it.. its not like you've got a deadline or anything. in the meantime i've read the story progression so far a total of three times, i also showed it to a friend of mine who's also a huge ES fan and he thought he was reading a novel untill i told him it was actually posted from a member on this website.. lol
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
seriously can't say enough about this, even tho i highly admire Ulfric in Skyrim and don't agree with him being a villain, this story is a masterpiece! you should seriously try to get it published..
I agree completely! My characters have always helped the Stormcloak rebellion because I flat-out hate the empire for their ignorance, but The Jester has seen the darker side of Ulfric and is trying to save a dying country, one without the thalmor OR the stormcloak arrogance. I haven't really been motivated to finish this story, but I promise it will be done soon! ;)
awesome bro! take your time, i wouldn't rush it.. its not like you've got a deadline or anything. in the meantime i've read the story progression so far a total of three times, i also showed it to a friend of mine who's also a huge ES fan and he thought he was reading a novel untill i told him it was actually posted from a member on this website.. lol
Wow... that's really inspiring. I didn't even think my writing was that good! It's really nice what you've been saying, and I want to let you know I appreciate it. (Careful, your next post will be your 666th!)
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
“I am like a veritable fable, warning against the karma caused by murdering others, a morality tale if you will. What utter irony.” -HK47, Revan's Bodyguard
Chapter 23: Unexpected Trouble
__________/1\__________
With a hearty shout, The Jester motioned the giants forward, calling Shadowmere from the shadows and mounting the dreaded steed. Shouts were heard near Whiterun, and The Jester smiled as Cicero and Veezara trailed along-side him. "Where've you been Cicero?" "Veezara's with us now." he replied, bluntly. "You're sure we can trust him?" The Jester asked, "He's the only Brotherhood member we have left. Once we rid this land of Ulfric, we will re-forge the 'Family'" He said, sounding like the sad clown he was. The Jester nodded and continued forward. Cicero and Veezara clung to the mammoth's armor to rest their legs. "I appreciate you allowing me to stay." Veezara said sarcastically. "We need all the help we can get. Oh, I'm so excited!" He giggled. "Vengeance, we shall bestow, to the wound which this land has outgrown!" He said, humming, with the line "down with Ulfric, the killer of kings" stuck in his head as he imagined his justice. He lightly pressed his weapons on his thigh, a reliable war-axe and a sharp dagger.
__________/2\__________
They followed the White River East, around Whiterun and turned North. Butterflies filled The Jester's stomach. "We won't fail..." he mumbled nervously, losing his collectiveness. "Settle down, clown! We've got ten minutes until arrival!" the argonian called back. The Jester still wasn't sure Veezara could be trusted, but could have no other way. It was too late to be choosing friends, and the argonian seemed likely enough to be an asset. The giants lurched forward, tiring from their armor. Windhelm's bridge came into view, and Cicero ran forward to scout the situation. The giants and the two men rested, cuddling the mammoth for warmth. The giants took a final meal of mammoth-cheese and wine before securing their armor one last time. Cicero came back moments later, his face pale. "We can't. It's sure suicide!" He yelled, throwing his hat on the ground with frustration.​
__________/3\__________
The Jester came to the top of a hill and looked, using his hands to block the sun and further his vision. There were long lines of Stormcloak soldiers and blockades blocking the only entrance into Windhelm. "Yes, seems they have the city locked tighter than a drum." Veezara whispered to Cicero. A dread crept up in The Jester's stomach. No. Too far I have come. Too hard I have fought to be stopped in my tracks by a few soldiers. He thought to himself. Nothing can stop me now. Death fears my foot-steps, bandits flee my tracks. Bounty-hunters tremble at the mention of my name, and giants fall in my presence. I am Revenge. I am Justice. I am the Jester.
__________/4\__________
The giants looked around, confused. The Jester called the two assassins to him. "Cicero, just as vengeance shall be mine this day, it shall be yours in time also. Seek the killers of your mother. Veezara, bring Cicero aid and continue the Brotherhood. This is our last farewell." He said, his cheeks turning red with sorrow. There was silence. Although they hated hearing this heroic Good-Bye, they didn't want to leave him to fight by himself. Cicero's contempt for The Jester slowly died down, as one the warriors' final embrace was given. He then realized what must be done. "Despite what I said, brother, I will always remember you and strive to fight as you have." He said, patting The Jester on the back. "I thank you again, Jester. For my life." Veezara said professionally, recalling the moment in the sanctuary, a powerfully dark figure sparing the life of a wounded argonian. They shook hands, and turned their separate ways, the two men looking back many times before actually leaving, a tearful split.
__________/5\__________
The Jester fastened the straps of the mammoth's armor. The beast felt not like an animal, but a mass of pure life. A beauty shared only by animals of the largest caliber. The elegance of the beast's form, yet the strength of it's muscles and tusks. The Jester climbed up, using Shadowmere as a stepping-stool to reach the behemoth's back. He prepared a few needles and small throwing knives he had received from Eorland, and set the beast forward. The loud crunching of the giants' footfalls alerted the Stormcloaks early, and they were prepared. At the sight of the powerful force, the yelling of men and the clatter of armor and swords erupted from the bridge. Word was sent inside that The Jester had arrived, and even more troops were sent outside as the huge, wooden main-doors were shut, barred, and locked. The Jester situated the giants behind him and the mammoth, ready for the assault.
__________/6\__________
With a huge, monstrous yell, The Jester threw the mammoth into a trot, a gallop, then into a full sprint at the Stormcloaks. The soldiers fired arrows which bounced off the beast's armor, and spears which did no damage to the plated-monster. In a second of silence, the mammoth collided with the wall of Stormcloaks, sending soldiers flying left and right, the tusks of the huge animal goring and gouging, crushing and pushing each soldier to his own personal death. Screaming deafened all ears and muffled any noise. The giants behind clobbered any remaining force after the main-attack, and in moments the force was half-way to the doors. The mammoth howled and threw it's tusks, throwing many soldiers off of the side, into the icy waters below. The Jester threw his knives and needles, softening the rebels for the giants behind them. The men inside of Windhelm held the main-doors shut, but were thrown back as the gargantuan beast rammed head-first into the gates. The doors swung open, and with humongous roars, the giants destroyed any resistance within the walls. Each building was crushed and lit aflame by the beasts of men, but were slowly becoming outnumbered. The mammoth was in a blind fury and a number of giants were becoming surrounded on all sides.
__________/7\__________
The Jester dismounted, drawing axe and blade, slicing any being that stood in his way. Three giants were felled like oak trees with the introduction of flaming arrows, but the Jester managed to slice his way along with the giants to the double-doors of the Blue Palace. He positioned one giant at the stone bottle-neck to block any attempts to rescue Ulfric, while another giant pried the doors open with his massive spear. The doors were broken apart, allowing The Jester entrance into the grand-hall. There sat Ulfric on his throne, and at his right hand, the Dragon-Born. Both the demi-god and The Jester locked eyes. Damn... I shouldn't have let the bastard live he thought to himself, fear gagging and strangling his throat and mind. Ulfric held off his guards and motioned to the military officer, Gunmar. Gunmar presented the Jarl's sword, which Ulfric drew with fire in his eyes and power in his paces towards The Jester. At last, the man spoke, "Why did you come here, clown. You arrived with evil intent in your heart, but you will find no mercy here, in my own court." he spat. "You have come here to die! Who are you to break into my city and attempt to take my life?!" Ulfric called out with the facade of honor, To which The Jester responded; "You want to know who I am? I am the man who has come for your soul. The monster who defeated Death himself. I am the evil which plagues your country, I am the punishment for your murder. To put it simply, I am your destruction, the bane of your existence. I am the lowly jester to the man you murdered. The servant of the High-King. The country, including this very town will sing my name in praises, for I am the incarnation of revenge, he who seeks vengeance for this country you've destroyed. I am The Jester."
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
Chapter 23: The Grand Finale
Sweat fell from both faces as The Jester drew his weapons. The war-axe in his right hand glimmered with the experience and wisdom of dispatching a thousand foes, while the dagger in his left shone with the sharp and deadly infancy of a newly-forged blade. The light from the chandelier above glinted off each of these blades. The Jester seemed to look at Gunmar, Ulfric, and the Dragon-Born simultaneously, prepared for any oncoming attack. Ulfric cleared his throat. The Jester expected another speech, but the words "Yol... Toor Shul!" erupted from the rebel's lungs, unleashing the fiery breath of a dragon towards the clown, who nimbly ducked and rolled from the flames with the skill of a well-trained acrobat.​
A line of fire stretched along the floor. The Jester focused himself and re-aligned his stance, awaiting the next move. Ulfric's knowledge of the Dragon-Tongue gave him the upper-hand in this duel. Ulfric lunged at the clown, who jumped back, unleashing three needles, which plunged into Ulfric's chest. He staggered backwards, clutching his ribs in pain. He charged, sword raised, but met a Sky-Forge steel dagger, which sliced through the skin and muscle of his sword arm. Ulfric's swing failed, his arm falling to his side, releasing the sword.​
Gunmar ran from Ulfric's throne to his side, who drew his large battle-axe from his back, prepared to chop down on The Jester. The Dragon-Born watched from afar with interest. Gunmar swung left, then right, but watched in horror as The Jester nimbly dodged each heavy blow. The Jester threw a throwing-knife sideways, slicing deep into Gunmar's leg. He fell to one knee, casting his battle-axe aside and drawing an iron-sword. He swung at The Jester, who skillfully blocked each attack with his dagger, placing the killing blow through the officer's skull with his Grandfather's small war-axe.​
The body fell back. "Thane! Come to my aid!" Ulfric yelled out. "Wuld... Nah Kest!" The Dragon-Born shouted, traveling the length of the court in but a millisecond. The demi-god unleashed fury-filled blows with dual-wielded steel swords, each unrelentless strike weakened The Jester's defenses. Dragon-Born placed a kick into The Jester's chest, knocking him back some few feet. The Jester winked, his signature move, invisibility. The Dragon-Born laughed, calling out "Laas Yah Nir!", a "detect life" shout which placed a red aura around any living being in the general vicinity. He swung his sword at The Jester's approaching red figure, slicing deep into his shoulder. The Jester let out a yell, returning to visibility. The sword had broken through the collar bone, slicing deep into the tissue and lung.​
The pain was unbearable, and death was certain. The Jester grabbed onto the blade inside of his body with both hands, raising himself to the demi-god's level. Dragon-Born thrust with his other sword, which was unexpectedly redirected into the wielder's knee. The hero fell, grasping at his leg. Seeing the opportunity, The Jester pulled the sword from his body with a blood-curdling scream, throwing it with rage and power into the Dovahkiin's torso. He crumpled like a tree in a storm, curling into a fetal position. The Jester brought down his entire weight into Dragon-Born's throat with his sharp dagger. The Jester turned and looked at the door and saw the final two giants holding off against dozens of stormcloak soldiers. Fire engulfed the entire town with bodies and soldiers seeking to save their "king".​
Ulfric arose, "Fus... Ro Dah!" He shouted, throwing The Jester hard into the stone wall with a horrendous sound, followed by a scream. The Jester quickly examined his body. He felt many broken ribs and a crushed collarbone, coughing up blood as he struggled to stand. Ulfric lunged sloppily with his sword in his unwounded hand. The Jester's quick instincts allowed for him, barely, to block the strike with a stone from the wall, which was broken by his impact.​
The Jester mustered up all his strength to raise his weapons in his fatal condition. A smile stretched across Ulfric's face as he brought his steel sword down towards the clown's head. The sword was caught and grappled by the war-axe. The Jester screamed with power as he raised the Sky-Forge dagger high above his head, crashing it through Ulfric's own blade. The sword broke into pieces.​
Ulfric's grin broke into a scream of fear as the metal pieces went flying in a flurry of sparks and steel. The Jester stood with horrific amounts of blood caking his clothes. He tore his shirt from his body, revealing the deep slice of the sword. There was no question of mortality. The rebel leader stood in disbelief as he saw the Jester disappear with the blink of an eye, only to reappear mere inches from his nose, the dagger plunged deep into his belly. Ulfric screamed in pain and fear as the Jester stabbed repeatedly with a grin from ear to ear across his bloody, makeup-clad face, laughing maniacally with each stab. The kill was fast and passionate, a move which turned Skyrim's fate drastically.​
There he stood. The victor. He stripped himself of his clothes and lie on the stony floor, resting. He remembered Cicero, and knew that the play was not yet at it's finale, but the climax. He smiled as he came to realization what he had done. He had saved Skyrim from this aggressor, saved countless lives from the war, and won vengeance for High-King Torygg. But what of Adeline's prophecy? Would the elves attack Solitude with massive numbers? It is surely possible. The empire would spread wide and thin to root out any rebels who remained, thus opening themselves to attack.​
The Jester knew his time had come. He looked to the ceiling and saw the heavens open up before his very eyes. His quest was over, his mission was done, vengeance had been won. Nobody would forget the tragedy that befell Skyrim on that dreaded day, the day The Jester took revenge.​
The Jester's Revenge
The End
 

Star Gazer

Well-Known Member
Well, judging from thirteen days of chirping crickets, I'm guessing that nobody liked the ending. Final fight may have been lacking.
 

Irishman

Well-Endowed Member
Well, judging from thirteen days of chirping crickets, I'm guessing that nobody liked the ending. Final fight may have been lacking.

Not at all!

Very well done :)

For some reason i hadnt recieved notifiation that you were still writing this. It was a fantastic read, very unique and a climatic ending!
 

CynthiaRedguard

Hammerfell Native and Natural Born Redguard
I love it! The only thing is how you killed one of my fellow Redguards :sadface:
 

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