Private The invasion of the Damned

[Skyrimosity]

Edwyn had been devouring the feast, especially the vast array of fruits, for a few minutes and talking with those around him. He was surprised to have this feast interrupted by Geran, it surely looked rude to leave while the Jarl was eating. Nevertheless, Edwyn followed the man into the secret room. The room was big enough for the party of 4, certainly no place for any parties or nonsense. Geran told them that Cyrus and Edwyn must attend all meetings while Jaygue only need attend some.Edwyn examined the room as he saw Geran take a seat and then he asked them to take a seat. Edwyn sat in one of the chairs as Cyrus and Jaygue did the same. Funny thing, I don't actually know very much about Jaygue. He's still a member shrouded with mystery to me. He awaited Geran's announcement.

 

[meben15]

Jaygue quickly got up from the dining table to follow Geran. He was glad to be away from the pointless chit-chat of the feast and get to buisinis of some worth. Geran told them about the meetings and Jaygue was glad he was not required to attend the day to day boring meetings. As they entered the war room Jaygue quickly took his seat, waiting quitely for what Geran had to speak to them about.

 

[cazzer14]

Cyrus was scoffing his meal, his tastebuds being treated to the finest tastes Tamriel had to offer. He stood to his feet when the Jarl arrived, as did everyone else, bar a few Witchers and members further down the table. He couldn't help but concede a nervous gulp as the Jarl took his seat beside him, accompanied by his bodyguard, and presumably his trusted advisor, much like Cyrus was to Geran, Edwyn too.

Time passed by as the Entire Brotherhood ate and conversed, laughter and politeness made up the ambience of the room, along with the sound of cutlery clattering on plates and obnoxious chewing of steak. Cyrus noticed Geran's subtle gesture for him to make chit-chat with the Jarl, and he tried to crawl through the nerves to come up with a decent subject on which to commence a verbal engagement with the Jarl of Whiterun.

As he was about to comment on world affairs to the noble, he was interrupted by Geran, who forcibly requested Cyrus, Edwyn and a senior Witcher, Jaygue to follow him. Cyrus obliged, secretly relieved that he was pulled out of talking to the Jarl, he really didn't want to stutter, or make himself look foolish.

He wondered what was so important that Geran needed to drag himself and three other senior members away from dinner with a Jarl, but he figured it must be pretty significant. Geran opened up a hidden panel in the wall that revealed a conference room, later dubbed the 'war room' by Geran in his address to the trio explaining the purpose of the concealed area.

Geran informed Cyrus and Edwyn that they would need to attend any and all meetings called by him, and that Jaygue would only need to be present at ones involving him, and then beckoned them to take a seat, and so they did, in a synchronised, military-like harmony. Cyrus listened to whatever Geran would have to say, intrigued by the urgency of the sudden need for such a gathering.

 

[Mini Mongo]

Geran was nervous, the news that he was about to reveal to the group was gruesome to even his standards, and well Geran was no merciful Nord in Nirn.
He took a gulp, clearing his throat and thought how he would put the news to the group.

''Men, as you all you know, killing undead is something normal for us. Everyday we fight for Skyrim, killing Draugr, slaughtering Skeletons and splitting Zombies in half.
All are rather formidable foes, usually just killing as contracts. But now I reveal something rather un-disturbing, and the real cause for the Jarl actually is not just for food, but to tell me the time has come. Several days before I was summoned to the Jarl, we made a deal. I, and the Brotherhood were to serve his to are best, and in return for protecting Whiterun he would grant the most money for this structure. This was how we afford such luxuries in this building.
After making the deal, and singing the contract he revealed to me his real intentions. Recently a hole family was murdered, by the looks of things it was an undead. Blood stained the walls, ever since the guards discovered it they barred the doors and never have entered, until now, when we do tomorrow. The weirdest thing of this is that the guards of patrol say at night they hear.......noises. Groans like Zombies, now perhaps it's just the Zombie who murdered them. Or of course, a rather formidable force awaits. Tomorrow the Brotherhood, all Witchers and us will investigation this ruin. Once the Jarl waits prepare, hone your skills and get good rest. Any questions?''

Geran took a rather large gasp of air, and awaited further questions.
He could hear the men of the Brotherhood outside, they were clearly having the time of their lives, luckily of course he knew that the men over the ranks of Witcher never drunk. Like Geran they would stop after 2 drinks, not leaving them weak. But of course Geran thought the worst, he would burn the alcohol in the morning before they leave, and put the trainers on strict orders to train all the men for the rest of the day.
Unlike most contracts Geran was somewhat worried, that is why he only wished for his Witchers and Lesser Masters to accompany him. Not scaring the lower ranks, even though all men had reasons for hating the Undead so much, and were all great slayers of the Undead they were not as honed and trustworthy as his Witchers.

The Witchers were what made the Brotherhood, they were Geran's most formidable group, able to take up to at least 10 Draugr at once..........by themselves.
Then their was his Masters, they could handle an army of undead by themselves, not only did their tactics in battle and courage amaze Geran, but their loyalty to him.
He was proud of his guild, and if he were to die in battle he would surely grant either Cyrus of Edwyn the rank of Grand Master.
Now of course knowing Geran he didn't make a will, but instead would reveal his choice in dying words, or of course let Cyrus and Edwyn fight for it. Which to be honest always made Geran chuckle.

 

[MissingOne123]

Ambrosia sat up in her chair, one hand in her lap while the other used a fork to pick at her plate. She let out a long sigh as she placed the fork on her tongue, forcing down a chunk of stringy meat and resisting the urge to shudder. Placing her silverware back down beside the plate and resisted the urge to shudder. Reaching over, she wrapped her fingers around a goblet of wine and lifted the glass to her lips, tipping her head back.

She swallowed the red liquid and placed the glass back down as Geran called upon Cyrus and Edwyn, beckoning for them to follow him. She arched a brow skeptically, watching as the small group exited the room. A bit odd holding a meeting at this time, what with the Jarl sitting alone near the end of the table. Shaking her head, she returned her gaze to her meal. If he wanted to call a surprise meeting, then who was she to object?

Mumbling quietly under her breath, she moved to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear before skewering a fork-full of food and taking another bite.

 

[Skyrimosity]

Edwyn tried to absorb the information. He had fought plenty of undead but something about this was unsettling. This was no doubt a direct interest of the Jarl, who had funded this new building. Geran need not even mentioned that part. Edwyn replied back. "No questions needed Geran. If you need me further, I'll be in the training room." Edwyn walked out of the room, unexcused. A strange thing for him. Still, by the look of disgust on his face, it was obvious this disturbed him a little.

He walked into the training room where a few early finishers of dinner were working off their mead. His entrance was followed with a salute, a clenched fist to the shoulder. Edwyn nodded and they returned to their activities. He picked up a training sword from a rack in the front of the room. The sword was blunted on all ends so not as to cause fatal injuries. He raised his voice a bit so they could hear him. "Who wants to spar?"

 

[meben15]

Jaygue took Geran's news stone faced as usual. He seemed almost not to be listening on the outside, but inside he was running over in his head what could have caused the attack. Couldn't be vampires, to unsubtle. Zombies? No, they were far to direct not to have been seen by guards. Perhaps wraiths or ghosts? This seemed to be quite an interesting case, and when Geran said that it might just be some zombies Jaygue knew he didn't think that was the case at all.

"Whatever awaits us inside this place Geran, I will be an unwavering blade at your side. You can count on me to stand until the end." Jaygue said simply, "I shall be in my room when you call." As he stood up to exit the war room Jaygue looked at the other two to see how they had reacted to the news. He could not tell how Cyrus felt about the whole thing, but he saw Edwyn was more than a little disturbed. Jaygue did not blame him, this whole business was very strange. Jaygue simply did not value his life as others did and so the emotion of fear hardly ever affected him.

As they exited, Edwyn headed to the training room and Jaygue decided to follow, maybe he would go through a sword routine or two. When Edwyn asked for a sparring partner, Jaygue ignored him, deciding instead of practice swordplay he would meditate on magic. He often meditated in the training room as it honed his skill at concentration, and thus the skill of casting in the heat of close combat.

 

[cazzer14]

After hearing the disturbing news that Geran had called them here to share, Cyrus let out a silent sigh, and looked down at the table, staring at it in thought and in acknowledgement of the potential evil that they were going to knock on the door of. He glared at his hands on the stone table, at his fingers tapping on the surface in a crescendo-like movement. Whereas the other two had questions, something to say about the matter, Cyrus just sat silent, letting the possibility of such darkness, and the reality that such an evil may exist sink in.

Although he had not witnessed the situation, he somehow knew, deep down, that this was larger, more devious than the standard zombie attack. Zombies required necromancers, and since there wasn't a undead botherer in sight , or in range of controlling the minion, this meant that the zombie was either sentient, or they were being puppeteer-ed by a powerful force, an unholy one. Both were bad things.

If the undead was sentient, had intelligence of its own, then that meant that more could have the same free will. Undead unbound by mortal chains, by control, they could go where they want, kill what they want, which would be everywhere and everyone.

If the zombie was being controlled, by a force a long distance away, this either meant that necromancers have become more powerful, being able to steer the undead from miles away, enabling them more offensive capabilities without exposing themselves, which was bad. Or.... or perhaps the zombies were not a force of this world, but of some being whose powers grew beyond that of a mortals. Cyrus' heart sank in horror as he realised the possibility. Daedric powers. That would be really, really bad.

It wasn't beyond belief. Yes, the Oblivion Crisis ended in the closing of the gates and access points between Oblivion and Mundus, and only allowed the most powerful of Daedra entry to Nirn. But nothing was stopping the Lords from controlling beings already present in this world, in this case, the undead. What if...

Cyrus' hypothesis was cut off as the loud sound of Edwyn's chair moving dragged him out of his thoughts. Edwyn left the room, as did Jaygue, after saying words to Geran. Cyrus remained seated, he slowly looked up at his superior, his long time friend. Their eyes locked in a sincere manner. It took several moments for Cyrus to break the silence.

"So what do you think it is?" a rare, emotionless, cold tone underlined his voice. If Cyrus' latter theory was correct, dark times were ahead.

 

[Mini Mongo]

Geran sighed, thoughts were flowing through his mind. He only knew as much as any mortal man.
But his thoughts were bad, Necromancers could be becoming a true force to be reckoned with. Summoning their minions from miles away.
Or Zombies were gaining intelligence, being able to control themselves, much like Draugr.
Or it was Daedric Princes, many preachers had been yelling about such things and Geran never took any notice until now.
But of course it could be a simple murder, a Draugr attack or the guards are just hearing things, scared by the fact a murder was plotted in their area.
He then gazed his attention at Cyrus as Edwyn and Jaygue left he stayed.

''My friend, my thoughts are all over the place. Zombies with intelligence is the most safe thought in my mind. My others are of course Necromancers, hidden away from miles, gaining power by the minute.
Or much like the men of the Divines have been preaching it is.......the Daedric princes.
A plague they have put to us to have us vanquished from this earth, or even the Divines wishing for are days on Nirn to end, and to be replaced by a more powerful Mortal race.
Much like all of us Cyrus, my thoughts are of many in number. We can only know until tomorrow, do not bother your mind and train, and sleep. You'll need it, I will call for you and Edwyn tomorrow. We will then gather are Witchers and find out the truth about this un-godly murder.''

Geran then stood, offering for Cyrus to leave, leading him out of his room and closing the door behind him.
Geran then closed the secret door and his door to the room, locking it. He wanted peace.
After a few minutes he stood walking back to the Dining hall and approaching the Jarl who was clearly leaving.
''I appreciate your visit Jarl, I spoke to my men about your problem. Me and my Witchers will investigate tomorrow. Have a good journey''
He then called over a slave to lead them out and walked to the training room, he wanted to be warmed up for tomorrow.
He un-sheathed his blade as a few men saluted him, Geran ignored them and merely continued training. He hit the wooden man so hard his blade sinked deeply into the man.
He then turned to Edwyn ''I shall spar with you friend.''
Geran readied himself.

 

[Star Gazer]

Trees flew past as the bells bounced up and down, jingling as they went. The Jester turned his head back and saw his target, the necromancer that has been attacking small towns and settlements with his hordes of undead. Soon, the world would be rid of him and his zombie army. The necromancer looked to his side at his thrall, an elven archer. He nodded and the archer knocked an arrow and fired. The iron arrow flew past the Jester's face and into the tree next to him. A chuckle escaped the jester's lips as the bark flew from the tree. He saw a small bear-cub in the distance. He made a sharp turn and watched as the necromancer and his minion followed. The Jester hit the bear-cub with the blunt edge of his staff, and watched as it fell over, and called for it's mother with a pitiful cry. The Jester moved twenty feet from the cub before stopping. He planted his feet firmly in the ground as he addressed his target. "Why do you chase me?" He asked with a grin. The archer drew his arrow, forcing the bow to arch. "I'll kill you where you stand, clown!" He shouted. "What if I told you that I had control over the natural world? What if I told you that I could kill you before your thrall even released that bow-string?" The necromancer stared at him with glowing eyes. He cocked his head with confusion before realizing why the clown had hit the bear-cub. Bears are very territorial creatures and protect their young with their life. "Why?" Was the only word he could say before feeling a hairy claw strike at his back. The force had pummeled him to the ground. The thrall stared at the necromancer and disappeared. Jester pulled out his lute and began tuning it. The screams of the man were softened by the Jester's music. "Curse you! We will find you and kill you!" He threatened. The Jester got closer, but out of the reach of the bear who was gnawing on his legs. "Shhh." The Jester whispered, putting a finger to his lips. The necromancer spat blood on the Jester's tunic. He looked down and saw the glistening mixture of saliva and blood. The bear stared at the Jester, and growled menacingly. With the wink of an eye, The Jester was gone. Somewhere nearby, invisible bells rang, and an invisible lute was pulled from the Jester's back. He began to play a song on his lute as he danced. "As the man begins to pass away, the bear enjoys it's wonderful buffet, and as you threaten to make me pay, I'm just glad I wore red today!" The Jester sang as blood spurted from the man's back. "Now while your lips turn a sickly shade of grey, excuse me while I... run away!" He skipped through the forest while playing his song.

 

[MissingOne123]

Ambrosia pushed back in her chair, standing up and brushing off her hands on her skirts. Sighing, she glanced around the room. Various members of the guild were milling about; Some heading to retire to their quarters, some leaving to spar, others simply standing on their own. Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and strode out of the dinning room without a word.

She walked down the hall, her dress swishing around her legs and ankles and brushing across the floors. Running a hand through her hair, she idly thought what a relief it would be to get out of this uncomfortably tight dress. Mumbling, she made her way back to where the lower ranks slept, to her bed, and opened the chest at the foot of the mattress. Shifting through the various articles of clothing and armor, she pulled out a much older, plain dress, worn out and faded due to years of use. She gathered the cloth in her arms and stood up, leaving the room to find somewhere to change into the loose clothes.

 

[Star Gazer]

The Jester hopped merrily, still humming the same tune he sang at the necromancer's death. "Lum la-dee la day!" He sang, jumping over fallen logs and through the brush of the forest. He saw a clearing in the trees. He slowed his pace to a walk, putting the lute behind his back. It hung like a trusty war-axe, ready for battle. His gloved hand sat on the hilt of his red dagger. He walked through the trees and found himself on-top of a hill. A quarter-mile away was a large house, taller than a dragon and seemed stronger than a mammoth. He pulled out his lute and sang a song to pass the time. "Might as well check it out, walk to the doors and give a friendly shout, just to see what it's all about! Maybe a guild, a house, a home. Maybe it's a castle you're free to roam! What if they ask 'what is your name?' Just tell them your name is Hal Golame! Say you're a hero, a warrior, a bard. Maybe even a security guard!" He sang. He had finally reached the building after a few minutes of singing. It seemed much bigger up close. The doors were large and nobody stood guard. The Jester kicked the door. "He-llo! I am no foe, I have music to bestow!" He sang. He cupped a hand around his ear, waiting for a response.

 

[MissingOne123]

Traveling far from where most of the guild slept, Ambrosia was just about to duck into a small, empty room to change, though she paused at the sound of loud thumps, which were followed by what she assumed were muffled words. Frowning, she glanced behind her. The night was growing old, and where she currently stood- Near the front entrance of the castle- was no where near the sleeping quarters.

Pursing her lips, Ambrosia gently put down her sleep wear and set off down the hall. She made one sharp turn and entered the main room. Two large doors stood in the center of the far wall, while chairs and tables decorated the long entrance way. Empty...

With narrowed eyes, she approached the door with caution. "Hello?" She called, pressing an ear against the thick wooden doors.

 

[Minecat24]

Midarha was woken up by a hurried knocking at her door. She groaned and shifted, hoping whoever it was would give up and leave. When the knocking persisted, she rolled over and said, "What, what?? Who's there?" Midarha sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed. She had been sprawled across the bed in full armor. She hadn't really meant to fall asleep; she just hadn't had a good night's rest in a few days.

She looked up as whoever was at the door let themselves in. A nervous-looking servant girl stood in the doorway. "Excuse me miss, but dinner has already started. Everyone is to attend."
Barely listening, Midarha stretched herself awake, and exhaled in a huge yawn. She caught the girl staring -obviously disgruntled by the display of needle-sharp teeth- and grinned.
"You woke me up for food? Who cares about stuffing my face when I could sleep?"
The girl shifted uncomfortably. "The Jarl is coming. Everyone is to attend." She repeated. "You should wear something nice."

The argonian woman laughed. "Oh the Jarl! How nice. Oh yes, lets drop everything we're doing and make nice for the Jarl!" she quipped sarcasticly. Of course, she was most likely going to go anyways. She just enjoyed teasing the help.
The servant stared blankly, unsure of her answer when Midarha shuffled to the edge of her bed and started looking through her chest. She hadn't very many "nice" clothes, but she did have a dress she wore on occasion. She had tailored a hole in the backside to accommodate for her tail. She pulled it out, along with a few pieces of jewelry- most of which were obtained through questionable means. The woman looked up to look at the girl who was still standing there. She seemed enamored by her lizardlike physique. Midarha didn't blame her, Argonians were hardly a common sight in Skyrim. She herself had only seen two others on her travels. When the servant caught Midarha's eye, she looked away quickly, embarrassed.

The servant girl left to go stand outside the room, and Midarha took her sweet time getting ready. Surely the Jarl could wait a few minutes more. She opened the door and joined the girl, who avoided eye contact. She led Midarha to the dining hall, where they entered unceremoniously. The Argonian held herself proudly, and walked with a purpose, unfazed by the glances and hushed whispers. With a half-smirk on her lips and a swish in her step, she followed the servant to her seat. Before she sat down, she gave a curtsy in the Jarl's direction, and slipped into her chair.

She ate until she was full, and then a bit more. The frivolity of everything amused her, it was a drastic change from how the brotherhood usually operated. Now they had huge walls and shiny trinkets decorating throughout. But the food- that was something she could get used to.
Midarha was one of the last ones left in the dining hall, leisurely working off her food at the table. She did things on her time. She got up slowly, and left the hall, leaving her drink untouched. Very rarely did she drink alcohol.

Licking her fingers, Midarha made her way back to the rooms. She would probably go straight to bed and sleep off her food.

 

[Star Gazer]

"Hello?" Someone called from within the great building. It seemed to be a woman's voice. "If you could please let me in, I'll greet you with a grin! But if you... turn me down, you will seem just like a clown!" He called, putting extra emphasis on the ending notes. There was a short pause, and he knocked again. "Let me in." He said sternly.

 

[MissingOne123]

Ambrosia was about to pull open the door when the man on the other side made a stern command, to which she snorted in reply and drew her hand back, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest, her face screwed up in a sneer. Who did this rhyming fool think he was, demanding she let him inside their castle. For all she knew, it could be an ambush.

"Give me one good reason why I should let you in, stranger." She called back, gritting her teeth. She didn't take well to being bossed around by anyone but those who's job was to do just that, and even then it was rare occurrence when she took the command without a snide remark in return.

 

[Star Gazer]

"Give me one good reason why I should let you in, stranger." "If you let me in, I'll sing you a tune, but if you leave me out here, it would be quite rude. It now boils down to a yes or no question... if you flat out say no, it may lead to... aggression."

 

[Mini Mongo]

Geran heard raised voices coming from the Dining room, right next to the entrance. ''Sorry Edwyn I hear something coming from the main entrance. Follow me.''
Geran's senses had greatly improved over time, he learnt to have brilliant hearing so he could never get caught off guard.
He walked to the main entrance through the long hall, he was gripping his dagger were a normal sword would usually be, he still had his great swords on his back but if he was to kill he would need to do it quick and quietly.
As he entered the dining room he saw ambrosia at the door and a man speaking on the other side.
He walked to Ambrosia, who was wearing a rather old dress, never the less it sorted her.

''Ambrosia, who is it that disturbs us on this fine evening?''
He awaited her answer, Geran's eyes gazing upon Ambrosia. She was one of the three guild members who were woman, the other two being Midarha and a Recruit, who Geran had forgotten. Nevertheless he had always looked over her and Midarha, they were great warriors, perhaps some of the best he had.
That is why of course he had raised them to Witchers.

 

[MissingOne123]

"Oh, a tune?" She said with mock interest. "I've always wanted a fool to sing for me." She rolled her eyes, voice dripping with venomous sarcasm. "Are you threatening me, sir? Im afraid that's not helping your case much, if at all." She shifted, straightening her back as her muscles tensed. In all honesty, she would probably loose if it turned to a one on one with the man on the out side of the door. She never was one for using her fists for fighting, and who knows what kind of weapon he had. Add the tight dress on top of it...

Shaking her head, she drew in a breath, ready to yell for help if the situation escalated.

When Geran suddenly approached from behind, she jumped, startled. Spinning around, she turned to face the guild master. "A stranger is on the other side of the door, demanding I let them inside. When I refused, they threatened to resort to violence." She explained with a slight shrug.

(( Edited. ))

 

[Star Gazer]

''Ambrosia, who is it that disturbs us on this fine evening?'' Asked a voice from inside the doors. "My name is Hal Golame! I was just talking to your polite dame! She wouldn't let me in, and if I don't eat soon I may become quite thin! I do not mean to be quite rude, but the only thing I want is a bite of food!"