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A War of Shadows

Discussion in 'Skyrim Fan Fiction' started by meben15, Sep 9, 2012.

  1. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    This is a Elder Scrolls Fanfic set two years after the End of the great war. It details the struggles of a ex-legion Breton Battlemage and a Breton Assassin from Hammerfell as they atempt to stop a Redguard Warlord who as allied himself with the Aldmeri Dominion in order to take over the Collovian Highlands (Western Cyrodil).

    This is a story That I have slowly developed over the course of a few months that I am only now writing. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to critique my writing, I would love a few pointers :)
     
  2. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    Prologue
    4E, 177, 13 Last Seed
    Hashan Kelkôr overlooked the defenses of the Imperial fort sitting in the valley below him with a grim smile. To long had the Imperial dogs ruled over the proud warlords of Hammerfell. Well, the fall of the pathetic third dynasty will begin tonight, Hashan thought to himself. During the great War against the elves he had fought with the empire. He had watched his troops die at the hands of the elves all because of the Emperors stubbornness and stupidity.

    Hashan sneered in disgust as he remembered the great Titus Mede II fleeing the Aldmeri Dominion forces and leaving him to die. “Worthess coward,” he snarled to himself.

    “What sir?” One of his officers, Maren his name was, standing nearby asked hesitantly.

    “Nothing you fool!” Hashan snapped at him, “Didn’t I already give you your orders?”

    “Y-yes sir!” Maren stuttered, taken aback.

    “Then MOVE!” Hashan screamed at him, whacking him heavily in the back of the head to encourage speed. As Maren scurried of Hashan readied himself for the coming battle. He made sure that his rough steel armor was all positioned properly and drew his deadly scimitar, running a finger gently down its cool, carved edge. Two years ago it had torn through the flesh of the elves of the Aldmeri Dominion. Now, however, he had seen the true enemy of his people. Hashan’s redguard brothers did not see that the elves were really their allies in a war against the oppression and tyranny of the empire. When he had spoken to the other warlords they had called his words treason and thrown him and his followers out of Skaven. Those who had defied him would pay in good time but for now his blade would soak in the blood of the Imperials.

    As the attack commenced the Redguard Warlord watched with a twisted smile. First his men shot a volley of arrows down from the cliffs surrounding the fort, killing many of the soldiers patrolling the walls. Shouts of alarm echoed across the battlements and Hashan’s men started throwing ceramic balls of flaming oil down into the courtyard of the fort using two large catapults.

    “The Imperials are in disarray, my lord,” Aranel said from behind him, “We can start the charge whenever you wish.”

    Hashan looked to his Altmer advisor sent to help him after he had contacted the Dominion and told them of his plans to attack the Empire. He nodded curtly at the tall elf, “Very well, fetch me my steed.”

    Aranel nodded, calling to a nearby soldier to complete the menial task. Hashan smiled coldly, grasping the hilt of his scimitar firmly and looking at Aranel, “Soon our blades will drink the blood of the Imperial bastards.”

    Aranel smiled at Hashan, nodding again. He tried not to show his disgust at such a barbaric statement, he had been sent here by his leaders to ensure the success of Hashan’s attacks. While they shared a common goal Aranel was often times disgusted by Hashan’s sick and twisted ways.

    “Your horse, my lord,” the soldier had returned, leading both Hashan and Aranel’s horses. Hashan grunted, mounting up, “Order the charge! Aranel, destroy the gate!”

    The Altmer nodded; lifting his hand into the air he shot a ball of pearly white light into the sky. Immediately a dozen or so other altmer mages that had accompanied Aranel on his mission cast there spells. Balls of raging fire blazed through the night towards the main gate of the fort, smashing it to splinters as the frontline of Redguards charged through into the courtyard.

    It was a massacre. Caught by surprise the Imperial forces didn’t stand a chance against Hashan’s battle hardened veterans. The Redguard forces quickly flooded through the fort, killing all in their path. As the battle ended Hashan stood int the center of the courtyard and watched as Maren brought forward four captured Imperials, all that was left of the garrison.

    “This one says he is the leader,” Maren said, kicking them man down in front of Hashan.

    Hashan stepped forward, towering over the Imperial on his knees, “Name and rank!” He screamed at the man.

    The Imperial man looked up at him, a stubborn fire burning in his eyes, “Captain Darilous.”

    Hashan laughed at the man, swinging his bloody scimitar before him in a intimidating fasion. “Well Darilous, you didn’t put up much of a fight did you.” With a swift swipe of his blade he slapped the man’s cheek, splattering the blood of his fallen men across his face.

    Captain Darilous took the blow without flinching, and when he next spoke his voice was filled with hate, “The Empire will have your head rebel! You will pay for what you have done here!”

    Hashan sneered again at the man, “The empire is weak, you will be the ones to pay.” As he said this he casually strode down the line of prisoners that had been forced to their knees. “Yes. You will pay for everything,” Hashan continued, “For my peoples SUFFERING! For their PAIN! For their DEATHS!” with each word Hashan cut down a prisoner in the line until there was only the captain. As he approached the kneeling man Hashan cast aside his sword and pulled a vicious curved dagger from his belt. His had swooped down, wrapping around the Imperial’s throat.

    As Hashan’s dagger drew near to Darilous he whispered into the mans ear, “yesss, you will pay, not me. And you will pay right NOW!” As he ended the sentence he drove his dagger into the eye of the man. Hashan threw the limp body of the Imperial captain back to the ground and turned to face his men. Walking over to retrieve his scimitar Hashan held it into the air and roared into the sky, “Down with the Empire!”

    The cheers and howls from the Redguard troops could be heard for miles around, that is if there had been anyone left to hear them.
    (this is only the prologue, I will introduce the main characters in the first chapter.)
     
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  3. bulbaquil

    bulbaquil ...is not Sjadbek, he just runs him.

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    Very creative and a clever story premise.
     
  4. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    Thank you, I spent a lot of time trying to think of a interesting political/moral situation.
     
  5. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    Chapter 1: Eyes of the Enemy
    3 months later: Kvatch
    A warm ray of morning sunlight seeped through the roof of the rundown Inn. Lasira’s dark grey eyes snapped open as the light passed over her. She jumped out of bed with a start, looking around cautiously for whatever had woken her. Looking about she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and for a moment simply stood in the center of the small room, confused

    Then she sighed, dismissing the feeling as a simple dream that she had thought was real life. It didn’t really matter, as she needed to get up anyways. Lasira quickly set about gathering up her equipment; she had a important contract to complete today. Not only was she being paid quite a large sum of money, the target was someone she would personally enjoy killing. As she thought of the day ahead Lasira had donned her black leather armor and accounted for her many throwing knives, poisons and potions, and her main weapons, a handcrafted Dwemer crossbow and her two Ebony long knives. With all of her things ready to go Lasira drew her long, jet black hair up behind her head with a leather strip before pulling her hood up.

    Descending the rickety steps to the bottom floor of the inn Lasira passed quickly through the few snoring drunks the bartender hadn’t had the heart to throw out last night and out into the street.

    She looked around the empty road, breathing in the fresh Colovian air. Quickly she scaled a nearby building, watching as the sun slowly rose above the winding streets of Kvatch. After a short pause to admire the view Lasira set off across the rooftops, leaping elegantly from building to building. After several minutes of roof-running she arrived at her destination. The central plaza in Kvatch was always a crowd of traveling merchants and vendors. Positioned right inside the front gates of the city the plaza was always packed full of people of all types and ethnicities. Even at this hour the there were many simply wandering about as vendors and merchants from all over set up shop.

    Lasira had been tipped off that her target frequented this area often. The man she was looking for was a sleazy looking Bosmer by the name of Balwin. Balwin was renown for dealing in moonsugar and skooma, but that was not why Lasira had been hired to kill him. Apparently he was a spy for the Aldmeri Dominion, and after a little investigation of her own she proved that to be true.

    Lasira smiled to herself, not only was she getting a large amount of gold for this relatively easy mission, she was also striking a blow against the Aldmeri Dominion, whom she despised. Ever since the Dominion invaded her home city of Sentinel and she saw the atrocities they committed she had fought tirelessly against them. The cursed Thalmor had killed many of her friends in the Great War, and she had not escaped them completely unscathed.

    As memories of the past drifted through Lasira’s mind, her eyes were combing the plaza for her target. After almost an hour of tireless searching she spotted him talking to a Khajiit merchant near the edge of the square. Smiling grimly she took out her crossbow, locking the mechanical arms into place with one swift movement. As soon as that elf left the plaza he would be dead.

    *******

    Raylen Varren weaved his way slowly through the crowd of people in the main plaza of Kvatch. The Breton man walked by the various stalls and shops without looking twice at them, he had more important things to do today. His friends in the Penitus Oculatus had informed him of a Aldmeri spy they wanted him to interrogate. Raylen sighed as he walked through the crowds of people, his short brown hair and black Ebony armor covered by a bland grey robe. He had decided that he preferred this type of work over the gruesome battles he had participated in during his time in the legion. Even now, two years later, he could remember every detail of the battle of the Red Ring. The blood in his mouth, the taste of death all around, all of his brothers in arms dying around him; it was something that a person never forgot. It was to bad that he couldn’t go about something like this with more official approval, but the white gold concordant forbade such things.

    That was one of the reasons Raylen had left the legion. Stricken with grief and anger at the deaths of his comrades, Raylen was frustrated that he couldn’t work against the Dominion and avenge his friend’s deaths. Then the Emperor came to him with a solution. The legion could not directly interfere with Thalmor movements, but if Raylen were to disappear, he could continue to hinder the operations of the Thalmor without violating the terms of the Concordant.

    Luckily he could still contact the Penitus Oculatus for information, and they sometimes had important things for him to do, like tracking the spy right now. He had been told the mans name was Balwin, he was a wood elf drug dealer. Raylen had called upon the aid of one of his Khajiit friends, Ra’tzir, a merchant who often provided him with information, to help him get to Balwin. Ra’tzir knew of the drug dealer and had offered to meet with him, tempting the Bosmer out of hiding with false tales of cheep moonsugar.

    As Raylen caught sight of Ra’tzir’s booth, sure enough he saw the scrawny wood elf talking with the Khajiit. Raylen went up silently behind Balwin, drawing his dagger and placing the tip in between the elf’s shoulder blades.

    “Don’t say a word or I will cut out your spine,” Raylen muttered to the elf as he felt the dagger on his back and stiffened. The cowardly man instantly started shaking in his boots, “I-I didn’t do it, whatever it is you think I did!” He whispered, trying to move his lips as little as possible.

    “You are guilty of the crimes I am arresting you for, they are just not the ones you think they are,” Raylen spoke softly in the man’s ear, and guided him forward into a small warehouse Ra’tzir opened for him. He hoped the fact the Bosmer thought him a guard would make him more docile.

    As they went into the small, dusty room Ra’tzir shut the door behind them, he would stand out side until Raylen was done with the spy. With the door shut behind them Raylen threw Balwin up against the wall, drawing his Katana and holding it in front of him.

    “Your not with the guards!” Balwin said surprised, “You have no right to kidnap me in such a way!”

    Raylen smiled, “I don’t care if I have a right to or not Balwin, you have information I want and I would like you to give it to me.”

    Balwin’s face paled as he realized Raylen’s purpose, “No… No I-I have no idea what you are talking about! I don’t know anything!” As the man stuttered excuses he backed up as far as he could, his eyes searching desperately for an escape route.

    Raylen stepped towards the man, brandishing his blade and blocking any chance of escape, “Tell me what you know!” He had heard rumors of strange things going on in Colovia and from Balwin’s fearful expression he knew something about it.

    “Yes okay! I will tell you if you promise to let me go!” The sniveling elf whimpered.

    Raylen nodded, lowering his posture slightly to show he wasn’t going to stab Balwin in the face anytime soon, “I won’t kill you, tell me.”

    Balwin seemed to calm down a bit at the reassurance and slightly less aggressive stance; he opened his mouth to speak. Right before Balwin told him whatever it was he was going to Raylen heard a slight click….

    *******

    Lasira cursed under her breath as a robed man grabbed her target and took him inside a building. This would make it much harder to get to him. She briefly considered simply waiting for Balwin to leave but decided against that approach almost immediately. The sly elf could slip out a back door and then she would have to track him down again, no the only option was to enter the building and kill him there. She wondered if there might be a window she could sneak into and set off, skirting the plaza on the rooftops.

    As Lasira grew nearer to the building Balwin had been taken into she spotted a small hatch almost ten feet up the side of the wall. Putting on an extra burst of speed she ran up the wall, grabbing onto the edge of the small window with her gloved hand.

    With one swift, silent movement Lasira heaved herself up, her slight frame slipping easily thorugh the window. Upon entering the building she heard two men speaking below. Slinking stealthily across one of the crossbeams she looked down to see the robed man and Balwin. The robed one seemed to be asking for information and Lasira frowned. She was not going to let this little bastard surrender any more information to the cursed Aldmeri Dominion.

    Raising her crossbow Lasira pulled a lever on its side that quickly fit a bolt into place. She briefly considered taking out both the informer and the grey robe but decided against it. When she was on a mission the only person she killed was her target. She raised her crossbow up, aiming it carefully at Balwin, then pulled the trigger, sending the deadly projectile flying towards the soon to be dead Bosmer.
     
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  6. Therin

    Therin Active Member

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    Interesting plot. This is happening before the Second Treaty of Stros M'Kai has been signed, so this traitorous Redguard has aligned himself with his country's currently invading force. Pretty unexpected.

    I'm a fiend for Bretons and battlemages, so I'm looking forward to your future installments.
     
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  7. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    good to know that someone is enjoying it :) yeah Hashan is a little deranged, I tried to display that in the prologue, it will become even more apparent later on. Also, Bretons & Battlemages are awsome :) my favorite.
     
  8. The_Madgod

    The_Madgod LordLlamahat

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    This is really good! Very good. Make more soon, please.
     
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  9. dawnguardsrfan2564

    dawnguardsrfan2564 New Member

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    Nice fanfic.
     
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  10. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    thank you, I am gonna post the second chapter sometime this week, hopefully before saturday.
     
  11. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    Chapter 2: Mixed Loyalties
    A steel bolt came flying out of nowhere, striking Balwin in the throat before he could speak. The momentum of the projectile slammed him into the wall and he stuck there, lifeless.

    “Gods DAMN IT!” Raylen roared, whirling around to pinpoint the source of he attack. His experienced eyes quickly spotted a dark shadowy figure perched in the rafters above. As he watched the shadow fled quickly through a small window.

    Raylen thought through his plan of action in an instant, Whoever had just killed Balwin had not wanted him to know about whatever it was Balwin knew. Therefore he was probably connected to the Thalmor in some way and would know the same information. He had to get that assassin.

    Charging out of the door, Raylen did not even bother to open it, simply crashing through the feeble wooden thing. Once outside he looked to the roof tops to see the Assassin running along them, about 100 yards ahead of him already.

    Raylen did not even stop to explain to Ra’tzir, waving him aside as the tore off in pursuit of the killer, “MOVE! Out of the way!” He yelled at the people wandering the plaza and they quickly parted at the sight of a man with a drawn sword, some shouting in alarm or protest. As ran Raylen tore off the grey robe that was covering him to reveal his shining black armor, the cloth was interfering with his leg movements.

    He sprinted swiftly down the street, trying to get a clear line of sight on the Assassin leaping across the rooftops so he could hit him with a spell. Perhaps a shard of ice to the knee would slow down the agile killer enough for him to catch up.

    As Raylen turned onto a fairly wide street leading alongside the great chapel of Akatosh he got his chance. The long strait section of road gave him a good enough view of the Assassin to make his attack. Without even slowing his stride Raylen balled his fist, conjuring up a frosty ball of condensed ice. As he threw it the ice expanded into a razor sharp shard that rocketed towards its target.

    The Assassin was obviously not expecting such an attack from him, figuring him unable to attack from the street. The deadly ice shard flew at the dark figures legs in mid jump. In a miraculous feat of acrobatic skill the Assassin managed to twist his body in midair, dodging the spell by a hairsbreadth. Unfortunately, the dodge had made the Assassin lose his forward momentum and he came crashing down to the street, rolling as he hit the cobblestone to soften the fall.

    Raylen did not stop running the entire time. When the Assassin fell to the street he had a surprise as the dark clad figures hood slipped off to reveal long black hair and the more delicate facial features of a woman, seemingly a Breton like himself, only with a dark tan. Now that Raylen thought about it, he should have known the Assassin was female from her figure and flexibility, not that it really mattered. He had to catch this Assassin regardless of gender or race.

    As He drew closer to the Assassin she jumped up from the ground and started running again, this time nimbly weaving through the people wandering down the street. Raylen came thundering after her, trying to get another good shot in at the fleeing figure. Unfortunately there were to many people in the way to risk another attack.

    Suddenly the Assassin slid into an alley on the side of the main thoroughfare and Raylen stumbled slightly as he tried to adjust his course quickly. This woman was fast! As he rounded the corner he was promptly met with a dagger flying at his face. The instincts he had gained from his years in the legion took over and his left hand shot up, deflecting the dagger with a burst of telekinesis.

    The flying blade had made Raylen slow down significantly, however, and gave the Assassin to slip through the rickety doorframe of a nearby building, from the looks of the sign swinging above the door an inn. He charged in after her, moving swiftly through lower common room in pursuit, ignoring the Innkeepers shouts of protest. As Raylen got to the top of the stairs he looked around for his target but saw nothing. Cursing he slowly walked down the hall, sword at the ready.

    When he was about halfway down the hall he felt a prickling on his neck. Danger. Trusting his instincts Raylen leapt backwards just as the Assassin dropped from the ceiling, two nasty Ebony long knives slashing towards his throat. He countered the surprise attack with a quick backhand sweep of his katana, forcing the Assassin backwards. The two of them stood off there for a second and Raylen smiled, there was no other ways out of the inn other than the stairs behind him. She would have to face him now instead of running.

    As Raylen readied for the inevitable attack he was caught off guard when the Assassin turned and ran down the last part of the hall. After a second Raylen realized her intended target, the window. He ran after her, as she crashed through the glass pane and flew towards the buildings on the opposite side of the street. Raylen dove out after her, managing to grab onto her foot in mid air.

    The momentum of the Assassins jump was not enough to keep them both airborne and they came crashing down into the street below. The impact from the fall knocked Raylen’s head against the stone and a jolt of pain shot through his body. He heard screams of surprise and fear all around him as the people scattered. As he stumbled to his feet Raylen looked over to were the Assassin had fallen to see that she to had risen and had her daggers raised before her, ready for combat. I seemed she had finally given up trying to escape him, so Raylen took up a similar combat stance, waiting for the Assassin to strike.

    *******

    Lasira grimaced as she got to her feet, her arms bleeding from various cuts she had gotten from the glass. She turned to face her pursuer, his head also bleeding from something. For a moment Lasira considered continuing her escape but decided against it, this man was just to damn stubborn! As they circled each other Lasira sized up her adversary. He was a Breton like herself but much taller and more muscular than most of her people. From his stance and the way he moved with that deadly ebony katana Lasira could tell he was an experienced warrior, plus the fact that the katana’s reach and speed would make it hard for her to get close with her knives.

    They stopped circling and her opponent took up a defensive stance, waiting for her to make the first move. Lasira obliged him, darting forward she feigned a stab at his right shoulder, then twisted aiming a double slash at his left leg. The battlemage was not fooled by the feign and parried both of the other attacks with a single, short swipe. He countered with a measured strike at Lasira’s neck, which she easily dodged. Backing away from each other, the two paused the melee briefly, trying to discern what the other would do next.

    Lasira struck again, this time lunging at the mans chest. When he swung his blade before him to push her back Lasira ducked under the swing, darting around behind him and kicking the back of his knee. This attack caused him to collapse, and Lasira thought she had won, her daggers flying towards the battlemage’s back.

    But she had underestimated the mans speed. Using the falling motion to guide him he spun around, slamming aside Lasira’s incoming knives. She stumbled from the force of the counter, and her adversary used this momentary weakness to his advantage, bringing his katana down in a powerful overhead strike.

    Lasira had no time to dodge the attack, so she raised her knives in a cross blade parry, wincing as the strike jarred her arms. As their weapons clanged into eachother her enemy twisted his sword, moving it so Lasira could not disengage her weapons. It was then up to a test of strength; it soon became apparent that he was the stronger, and combined with the extra leveraged granted by the katana’s extended hilt, the mans blade slowly pushed down on hers, bringing the deadly edge ever closer to her skin.

    Lasira fought to keep her arms raised, her entire body shaking from the strain. She looked to the man opposing her, a Breton who had just sold out to a bunch of damn elves, and was filled with loathing for him, “Traitor,” Lasira snarled at him.

    He glared right back, “You are the traitor here Assassin. If you hadn’t killed that man I would have gotten valuable information from him, information that would have severely hindered Thalmor operations in this area!”

    At this proclamation Lasira hesitatied, caught of guard. She had been so sure that he was with the elves! “Wait what? I thought you were with the Dominion!”

    A look of surprise similar to her own appeared on his face, “No….. I-”

    Before he could continue the street around them, which had been deserted by the locals at the start of their battle, sprung into motion with golden armored elves moving in to surround the battling duo.

    Lasira cursed, her eyes shooting around, taking note of the overwhelming odds. Suddenly the Breton opposing her acted, wrenching his katana up, he suddenly released all pressure on Lasira’s blades. Surprised at the sudden change Lasira stumbled forward to be met with the battlemage’s fist slamming into her gut. Before she knew it he had her by the neck with a dagger pressed up against her jugular. Snarling, she was about to stab him through the chest with one of her many concealed blades he whispered into her ear, “Go with it.”

    Lasira hesitated, considering her options. It seemed as if she had misjudged this man, and there was something strange going on here she would like to know about. She would play along…. For now.

    As the battlemage held here there the Thalmor Justicars came nearer, swords bristling. One stepped forward, speaking to her the man in a superior voice, “By the order of the high chancellor of the Aldmeri Dominion this woman is here by charged with the murder of a civilian of the city of Kvatch. Please step aside sir so that we may deal with her accordingly.”

    The man laughed, “Oh and what makes you think you have such a responsibility?”

    The Thalmor captain looked flustered at his retort, “I am a member of the Aldmeri Dominion’s special forces division know as the Thalmor, It is our duty to patrol this nation in search of blasphemers and criminals. Now surrender the villain to us so that we may bring justice upon her churl!”

    To this he replied again, “Well that’s all well and good but you see this woman has committed crimes against the city of Kvatch, not the crime of Talos worship, so you have no right to her at all! I will bring her before the court so that the true ruler of this land may judge her.”

    At his emphasis on the word true the elf stiffened and Lasira smiled. There was some major underlying conflict going on here. After a few seconds of huffing, the elf finally got around to actual speech again, “Well then, we shall accompany you to the court sir. We will have our chance to interrogate this woman whether you like it or not.”

    They couldn’t really disagree, so surrounded by the Thalmor, Lasira and her ‘captor’ marched swiftly through the streets and up to castle Kvatch.
     
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  12. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    (Just so you Guys know, I made an image album that I am gonna put visuals of all of the main characters from this fanfic. You can find it my going to my profile pg. or clicking on the 'skyrim nature shots' link in my sig. Also I am gonna get chapter 3 up hopefully by tonight :))
     
  13. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    (okay a little late, it turned out to be longer that I had originally thought :))​
    Chapter 3: The enemy of my enemy…
    Raylen walked up to castle Kvatch surrounded by the Thalmor, his thoughts filled with malice towards the elves. He pushed the Assassin before him, having tied her hands behind her with a few pieces of frayed rope. Raylen was not really worried about her escaping, if she had wanted to get away she would have, despite his efforts to stop her. The rope was simply for the benefit of the Thalmor.

    It really was a great inconvenience that they were being forced to bring the count into all of this. Raylen would have preferred to simply fight his way through his Altmer enemies, but that would have drawn to much attention, and when you work the way he did attracting the attention of your enemy was as deadly as any blade. Better to simply remove the Assassin from the Thalmor’s grasp legitimately.

    As they passed over the drawbridge and into the courtyard the Kvatch guards posted at the gate gave cold, untrusting looks to the Thalmor Justicar’s as they passed by. Nobody liked the arrogant elves, not even the other Altmer who lived in the city. When the group approached the great double doors leading to the interior of the castle the two guards standing by the door stepped into their way, “Halt. What business do you have with Count Matuis?”

    Before the lead Thalmor could reply Raylen spoke up, “I am here to deliver a criminal to this lordships dungeon. As for the elves, I have no idea why they are here. They seem to think they are helping me.”

    At this the Thalmor snarled, “WE have here to interrogate this criminal and take her with us to the Aldmeri embassy if we so wish!”

    The guards looked at each other and Raylen could tell they were both thinking the same thing: let the count deal with this mess so they could get back to work. They stepped aside and one of the men waved them in, “Very well, you may enter.”

    As the door opened and the company proceeded inwards, Raylen loosened the Assassins bonds ever so slightly. If the Count agreed to let the Thalmor taker her he would be forced to initiate violence, and it would be best if she was ready and able to defend herself.

    Count Coren Matius was at the end of the great hall, sitting upon his throne conversing with one of his stewards as they approached. At the sound of the clanking mail of the Thalmor he looked up, surprised to see so many armed individuals before him.

    Raylen viewed the man with mild interest. He knew that the Count was a Great War veteran, and his father had died in this very room when the Aldmeri forces took Kvatch. Coran was young, likely a few years short of Raylen’s twenty-eight years, but he could see the wisdom and bravery in the mans eyes. It was said that the first Count Matius had lead the assault to retake Kvatch from the Daedra during the Oblivion Crisis, courage ran in the families veins.

    The Count spoke as both the Thalmor captain and Raylen stepped forward, “Welcome friends, is there some dispute that you wish me to settle?” The perceptive man had already noticed the looks of aggression being exchanged between Raylen, the Assassin, and the Thalmor.

    The Captain answered first, speaking in tones laced with subtle distain, “Yes, my lord, there is. You see me and my men took into custody this criminal, with the intent of bringing justice upon her. But this man stopped us, insisting she be taken up here to bother you!” The elf finished with a scoff, glaring coldly at Raylen.

    He simply smiled back at the Altmer, then turned respectfully to the Count, “My lord, the Thalmor speaks of justice as an adolescent boy would, thinking it a simple matter of retribution. Whatever his good intent may be, he seems to have forgotten that his duties in criminal justice do not extend past the punishment of Talos worshipers. As this was not the crime in this case it is only just for the criminal to be taken to the city dungeon, were she will be reprimanded in accordance to Imperial law.”

    The Captian looked outraged at Raylen’s blatant opposition and was about to retaliate to his statement when Coren held up a hand, stopping him, “While I am sure you intentions were good Captain, this man is right.” He smiled almost patronizingly at the elf, “You need not trouble yourselves over such crimes, my guardsmen will deal with this criminal.”

    But the Thalmor would not let their prey go so easily. As the Count turned away from them and several of the guards moved up to escort Raylen and the Assassin to the dungeon the Captain stepped forward once more, “Well, my lord, you wouldn’t mind if we accompanied your guardsmen would you? It never hurts to have a few extra men guarding dangerous prisoners such as this.”

    Count Matius slowly turned back around to regard the man again. Raylen saw that he had no other choice but to consent to the Thalmor’s wishes and sighed, it seemed bloodshed was inevitable. At least it would only be Thalmor blood.

    “Why….. yes, I suppose that is wise,” the Count said slowly, with a hint of reluctance. The Thalmor captain grinned and beckoned for five of his men to accompany them as they headed towards the dungeon.


    The further they descended into the lower reaches of the castle the more anxious Lasira got. She didn’t know exactly what this Breton man had planned, but she wasn’t going along with it for much longer. When he had loosened her bonds Lasira thought he was about to take action but no, they simply went with the six Thalmor and the guards. While her captor still held her hands behind her back that wouldn’t stop her once she had had enough of this charade.

    The group continued into the depths of the castle until they finally reached the cell blocks. With the prisoner delivered to the dungeon the Kvatch guards duties were completed, and they all left the room in a hurry. Being put on dungeon duty was not one of the best positions for a officer of the law. The Thalmor remained, however, as Lasira had suspected they would.
    The jailor, a burly Nord with a thick beard, stood up from a small stool a little ways down one of the dark hallways and greeted them, “Aye, visitors! Which one o’ ya is going behind the bars today then?”

    The man holding Lasira spoke up, pushing her forward slightly, “She is.”

    The Nord man nodded and beckoned for them to follow him down the row of cells. Before he got very far the Thalmor captain interrupted him, “Wait a second there! We must interrogate this prisoner. The Counts orders are to surrender her to us!”

    The jailor paused, confused, “But…. Why did ya bring her down here then?”

    The Battlemage holding Lasira interrupted with a furious scowl at the Thalmor, “Because he is lying, the Count ordered for the prisoner to be contained here. Disregard the Thalmors orders!”

    Lasira had had enough of this, time to deal with these pesky elves. In one lightning quick movement she twisted her hands from the mans grasp and spun around with a vicious kick to his head. While she was pretty sure he was on her side you could never be sure, and he had already proved quite formidable. Continuing her spinning movement Lasira flipped on of her throwing knives into her palm, slicing the throat of the nearest Thalmor before he could even blink. She then threw the dagger into the throat of another of the elves while snatching up the sword of the first at the same time.

    By then the remaining Altmer had at least readied their blades, but it didn’t help them much. Jumping forward Lasira stabbed at the nearest Thalmor’s chest with the ‘borrowed’ Elven blade. He blocked the attack, but she twirled around behind him before he could get into a proper fighting stance, impaling a third Thalmor through the back with another throwing knife.

    The next elf had no chance as Lasira beat down his guard with one swing and stabbed him in the eye with another immediately following it. By that time the remaining one soldier and the Captain were the only ones left.

    The Captain stepped back, shouting at the last man, “Charge! Kill her you fool!” The soldier ran towards her, sword raised. She easily ducked his wild swing and stabbed him through the back with the sword as his momentum carried him past her.

    With all of his men dead the Captain was not nearly as confident. With a scream of mercy he ran for the exit. Without hesitating Lasira threw her knife, hitting him in the back of the head. He fell to the ground motionless.

    She then directed her attention to the jailor, who had been watching the entire scene with stunned horror. Lasira flew towards him, smashing the poor man in the face before he could even raise his weapon.

    As the jailor slumped to the ground unconscious he Battlemage got to his feet, right hand gripping his blade and left pressed up against the bleeding wound on his forehead. He grimaced at her, “You didn’t have to kick me, I would have helped you fight them.” He jestured to the corpses scattered across the dungeon floor.

    Lasira grinned at him, “I handled it just fine by myself, and that kick was payback for the punch earlier.”

    He gave a short bark of laughter, “Ha! Yes, I guess we are even now,” His face grew serious, “but I must talk with you about the events that occurred today.”

    Lasira eyed him somewhat untrustingly as she retrieved her weapons from the dead Thalmor, “While I believe your intentions to be noble, I still don’t trust you. If I talk with you it will not be a one-sided interrogation, I want answers to.”

    The man nodded sincerely, “Of course, but we should not linger here much longer. I am Raylen by the way.” He stepped forward over the Altmer corpses, sheathing his sword and extending his hand.

    Lasira nodded politely, reaching out her own more delicate arm to accept his handshake, “Lasira. I agree, a more lengthy introduction can wait. Tell me, how exactly are we planning on getting out of here without killing half the garrison?”

    In answer to her question Raylen simply smiled, “Oh, you’ll see. Follow me.”


    Raylen lead them down the rows of cells. Luckily there were no more prisoners or guards on this hall, the lead jailor liked to cycle through the cells so the empty ones could be scrubbed clean of blood. As they reached the end of the hall Raylen went to a small wooden door tucked in the shadows. He placed his hand on the lock and it pulsed with a ripple of silver light for a second before clicking open.

    He opened the door to reveal a small storeroom. Raylen felt Lasira’s eyes on his back as he moved aside the barrels and crates to reveal the stone wall. Four blocks over at eye level. His finger came to rest on the Imperial dragon symbol engraved in the wall. “Aperire ante Oculum.” He whispered the password, spoken in the Penitus Oculatus code language. As he spoke the wall slid aside, revealing a dark passage through the earth.

    “How did you know this was here?” Lasira asked him, impressed. Raylen conjured a ball of silver light into his hand and started down the passage, “This tunnel was made during the Septim Dynasty as an escape route for the Count. The Penitus Oculatus found it several years back and have been using it ever since.”

    He knew this statement would lead to a inevitable question, one he did not wish to answer. Sure enough Lasira asked him, “So you are part of the Penitus Oculatus? Are you even allowed to go against the Thalmor like this?”

    Raylen hesitated; he had never told anyone anything about his past, or affiliation with the empire. Doing so might lead to another Great War. He knew he was taking a major risk telling this mysterious Assassin anything, but for some reason he felt he could trust Lasira. There was something about her he could relate to, a certain futile determination, most likely born out of fighting against the Dominions oppression. He would tell her who he was, but not here or now, “I am…. Affiliated with them. I shall explain more when we are out.”

    She nodded, accepting his word and they continued through the tunnel. After a few minutes of silent walking Raylen spotted sunlight ahead. The tunnel expanded slightly as it led out into a small cavern. Raylen stepped forward to the mouth of the cave, looking down the short drop to the ground. Being constructed on a hill, Kvatch had cliffs on all sides, and Raylen thanked the Nine that they were to far down for the patrolling guards on the walls to spot them

    Without a word they both descended down the cliff, Raylen sliding down slowly and Lasira practically running to the bottom of the rock face, landing gracefully as if it had been nothing. Raylen shook his head, impressed at her skill, “were did you learn to do things like that?”

    She looked at him with a playful smile, “All will be explained in time time my dear Raylen.”

    He couldn’t help but smile as she threw his words back in his face, “Very well, lets find a spot to rest until tomorrow morning, let things blow over a bit. My associates will meet up then and we can discuss further plans. Right now though you and I both have some explaining to do…”
     
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  14. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    (put pics of Raylen in my fanfic Characters album ;))
     
  15. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    (okay, sorry guys. Due to events over the weekend I didn't get much writing in. Not going to get up Chapter 4 for a few days :sadface:)
     
  16. MR-WIKI-96

    MR-WIKI-96 I know all! I am the WIKI!

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    I just read the prologue and all three chapters and this is a brillaint FanFic! :)

    It's clever, it's got action, thriller, comedy and romance (if that is what you intend from Raylen and Lasira ;))

    I can't wait for chapter four! :D Please make more. :)
     
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  17. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    Thank you very much Wiki :) means a lot to me that someone actually likes my work. I plan to put up Chapter 4 tonight.
     
  18. MR-WIKI-96

    MR-WIKI-96 I know all! I am the WIKI!

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    Awesome! :D :D :D :D

    Can't wait! :)
     
  19. meben15

    meben15 Lord of the Meeblings

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    (Finally I have a new chapter! Sorry this one was so late, it was harder to write than the others for some reason. Luckily I am going to have more spare time now so I may start releasing chapter more frequently :D)

    Chapter 4: Darkness rising
    four hours later

    High Inquisitor Leonal Larethil stormed down the dimly lit corridor of Castle Kvatch, he was in a horrible mood. Larethil was one of the most prestigious leaders of the Thalmor, in charge of tracking down blasphemers and anyone else who opposed the will of the Aldmeri Dominion. He had been returning to the Imperial City Embassies from a visit to Valenwood. Unfortunately it was not a journey one could make in a single day and Larethil had been forced to stop in the city of Kvatch to resupply his entourage. Then, just as he was about to leave the wretched human city the Thalmor Commander of Kvatch had requested his audience! In the dungeon no less!

    As the Altmer neared the dungeon he noticed many of the servants he passed looked very scared, even more so than they usually did around the Thalmor. All Larethil could think about though was what tragedy may have occurred that his presence was required on such short notice. It had better be nirn-shattering or he would not be pleased.

    The elf reached the dungeon and he threw open the door, pacing in and observing the scene before him with a cold calculating eye. Scattered about the floor were six dead Thalmor, pools of blood surrounding them. There were several Kvatch guards, as well as some Thalmor soldiers wandering about the place. Larethil also spotted the Count standing off to the side talking to the guard captain and some big Nord man with a bleeding nose and a black eye.

    Larethil went over to Faerne, the Thalmor commander who had summoned him, “Commander Faerne, what exactly happened here,” the Inquisitor asked in a dangerous voice.

    Faerne paled slightly as he regarded his superior, “Well…. We are not exactly sure but it seems some prisoner has escaped.”

    Larethil snorted, “Well I assumed as much based on the fact we are in a dungeon,” he leaned closer to the commander and spoke to him in a quieter voice, “This prisoner better not have been important to Thalmor affairs, I would not be pleased if that was the case.”

    The other Altmer stepped back slightly and stammered, “Ummm…. Yes, well…. She was not that important…”

    Snarling Larethil glared at the man, “I see. I will deal with you later, for now tell me what happened.”

    Faerne nodded submissively, resigned to his fate. He began to events in a dull voice, “Well, the woman that escaped was a freelance Breton assassin that has killed several Thalmor officials. She was also believed to be involved in the escape of several members of the royal court of Sentinel when Dominion forces took that city. About a week ago we received news that one of ours spies had learned to much of our… operations, so I hired the Assassin to track the spy down and kill him. We had arranged for her to find him in a secure area of our choosing, once she killed him our officers would subdue her.”

    Larethil nodded, “It seems like a good plan, two birds with one stone I suppose,” he cast a glance around there surroundings and frowned at Faerne, “But tell me, why was the criminal ever even taken to the Castle. She should have been taken directly to the embassy to be interrogated.”

    Faerne hesitated briefly before explaining, “Well you se my lord, there were… complications. The Assassin somehow managed to track down the spy before he reached our ambush site. Then some freelance mercenary got to her before our troops, and he insisted she be taken to the castle,”

    Larethil nodded again, silently cursing the damned humans for their obstinance. Couldn’t these pathetic weaklings just see the Altmer were master race and just accept it? “I see, and were is this ‘freelancer’ now?”

    Faerne shrugged, “We aren’t sure my lord. The man, the criminal, and the soldiers you see dead here were last seen by the guards escorting them here. We do have one witness though, the Jailor. The Assassin didn’t quite kill him.” The elf gestured over to were the count, Guard Captain, and several other guardsmen stood. At their center was the bearded Nord that Larethil had spotted as he entered.

    Before he moved over to the group of humans the Inquisitor walked through the corpses of his fallen men, examining the wounds decorating their bodies. This was the work of a master fighter, every strike made by the killer was deadly and efficient. From the looks of it she had used some kind of light blade, most likely a dagger or short sword. The elf stepped back slightly as he mentally pictured the way the Assassin had slain her foes. She was good, but one of Larethil’s best abilities as a fighter was his skill at being able to read his opponents, and by simply viewing this battlefield he had gained valuable info about this Assassin.

    As he finished assessing the fight Larethil motioned for Faerne and the other Thalmor soldiers in the room to the humans clustered at the other side. As they approached Larethil stepped forward and spoke in his silky ‘diplomatic’ voice, “Greetings Lord, and guardsmen, I am High Inquisitor Leonal Larethil. Commander Faerne here has just informed me of the situation.”

    The elf stepped forward and narrowed his heys at the Jailor, the way he usually did when he was interrogating someone, “I would like to hear this mans account of events.”

    Larethil frowned slightly as he noticed the brief silent exchange between Count Matius and the Jailor. The man flashed a glance at his leader and the Count responded with an imperceptible nod. This man was obviously not going to fully corporate with the Thalmor. Larethil made a mental note of this Coren Matius’s resistances to the will of the Thalmor. If he didn’t bow his overly proud head to Altmer rule soon he may find himself having an ‘accident’.

    The Jailor nodded hesitantly at the Thalmor official before beginning his story, “Well, they just marched in y’know, I was over there. There were some Thalmor like yerself, all those dead fellas over there, and some of my fellow guardsmen. The guards left though before everything happened. Then there was the other two.”

    Larethil watched the man like a hawk as he spoke, his piercing golden eyes never leaving the Jailors face, ”Describe the man,” the elf stated simply. He was the only thing of real interest to Larethil here, they already knew who the woman was. This freelance merc was the only unknown variable.

    The Jailor wrinkled his eyebrows in response to his question, trying to recall the mans face, “Ummm…. Well he was wearing some very nice lookin black armor, ebony I think it was, that stuffs good. And ummm…. He had shortish brown hair and a beard, although not as long as mine.”

    Larethil sighed, “Is that all you remember of the man? Very well, tell me what happened after they came in.”

    The Jailor replied, “Well after the guards left the Breton woman in black somehow got out of her bonds and went crazy on al de others. She kicked the black armor guy in the face right off, then killed all the others before I could even get out my weapon! Then she hit me in the face with something and I don’t remember any more.”

    Larethil sighed and nodded, and he quickly strode out of the room, gesturing for Faerne to follow him. The two Altmer exited the room, leaving the others to pick up the corpses. Larethil cast a poisonous glace at Faerne and spoke In a deadly whisper, “You have disappointed me Commander, and I don’t like it when people disappoint me. If you wish to keep your position you would do well to find out who the man that caused this mess is and were you can find him. Good day.”

    With that the Thalmor High Inquisitor swept on down the hallway, leaving commander Faerne standing there, sweating.

    *******

    The sun was setting over the Aylied ruin of Miscarcand, were the army of Hashan Kelkôr had set up base. Hashan himself stood at the top of one of the ancient ivory towers, looking out over his ever-growing force of warriors. In the past few months the band of two-hundred Redguards had expanded to almost six-hundred. News had spread throughout Colovia about a great ‘Bandit King’ who intended to drive out the Imperials and their laws and would grant any who joined him land and riches when he established the new land. After a few more successful attacks on Imperial forts bandits and ruffians of all sorts flocked to the successful band of rebels. Hashan had accepted all of them into his army, seeing the lawless men as good fodder. None were to skilled or intelligent, but they would help greatly when he began the next step of his plan.

    As the Redguard Warlord looked down upon the lines of tents and campfires scattered through the ruin Aranel approached him from behind, “My lord,” the elf said, waiting for Hashan to respond.

    When the Redguard gestured for him to proceed Aranel continued, “The attack on fort Greywatch was a success, and our troops also ambushed a supply caravan just outside of Skingrad.”

    Hashan smiled and nodded, “Good, what was in the Caravan?”

    Aranel pulled a piece of paper from his belt and unrolled it, reading from the list, “Several barrels of Tamika west weald wine, a crate full of cheese wheels, some Cyrodilic brandy, and a few Imperial girls…”

    When Hashan nodded once more Aranel continued, “We also got eighteen new recruits today, the army is growing ever larger.”

    Hashan turned and looked at his advisor with a self-satisfied smile, “Yes. Soon all will fall into place and we can begin our next step. Have you contacted your associates?”

    The elf nodded, “Yes, they have been notified.”

    The Redguard smiled again as they descended the steps down to the central enclosed courtyard of the ancient ruin, “mmm, good. We should be able to begin the next step to liberation from the Empire within a week or two.”

    Just as Aranel was about to respond Maren, along with three of Hashan’s other veteran warriors, entered the courtyard. The younger Redguard approached his leader and bowed, “My Lord, there is some Bosmer ruffian in the camp, he said he wouldn’t leave until he spoke to you.”

    Hashan growled with impatience, annoyed that he had to deal with yet another stupid little task, he had already completed so many today. “Are you that worthless as a leader Maren? You can’t even deal with one stupid elf?” He then stormed out of the courtyard and into the main camp, shoving his officers out of the way, “Well, were is the little plops then?”

    “I’m right here,” a voice said off to Hashan’s left. He turned to see a creepy looking Bosmer in black leather armor. Two of his men were standing vigilant next to the elf, but he didn’t seem to be bothered at all by their presence.

    “Who the hell are you? Speak quickly or I will kill you were you stand!” Hashan did not like people who snuck up on him, this man’s presence made him want to kill something.

    The Bosmer smiled, “My name is not important, I simply come to deliver a message. Know only this: The Darkveil Assassins, agents of Namira, prince of darkness and shadow, support your cause. They will come here and meet with you in three days time. They seek an alliance. Do not disappoint them.”

    With that the Bosmer turned and walked off through the tents, drawing many a glance from the soldiers he passed. Hashan watched him go with a mix of suspicion and interest. A group of Assassins would be very useful, but this business, these ‘Darkveil Assassins’ he wasn’t so sure about. He would have to think deeply on the matter.

    “Well, was that all you bothered me about Maren? Get out of my sight!” He spun around and marched back into the courtyard. As he walked he spoke to Aranel, “An interesting encounter yes? You will tell me your thoughts on the matter of these Assassins in the morning, for now bring me those Imperial girls, I could use some distraction…”
     
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  20. MR-WIKI-96

    MR-WIKI-96 I know all! I am the WIKI!

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    Brilliant meebs. :)

    A chapter through the eyes of the enemy. :)

    Nice one. :)
     
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