Eternal Dragon Epic

[Maharg67]

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-1-

THIRTEEN

DRAZEN

 

Drazen sensed some threat made his way carefully along the cave tunnel that dripped mucky water from its ceiling and flowed a small stream of cold water down the centre of the way. Drazen wore tough leathers from head to toes including a helmet arrangement with goggles and boots. His bullseye lamp focused the burning oil light into a beam that lit up part of the tunnel ahead. The leather backpack was tight against his backpack and like his other leathers was cleverly waterproofed.

 

The eyes of a big rat glittered briefly in his light but the rat was no threat to him. The creature sensed that Drazen was of the magefolk, of the intrinsic inherited magic of the true wizards. The rat did not flee or attack or panic and Drazen walked calmly past. Then the rat went on quietly with its business of survival.

 

He still sensed the threat.

 

In these ancient deep cave systems way below the Imperial Throne City itself, now known as Imperiarna, there lurked known lifeforms such as goblins, earthlizards, giant rats, swarms of big rats and many others. But none of these truly threatened Drazen and neither did he have much interest in them.

 

No, he was after something special.

 

From the dimness of the cave tunnel he came suddenly into an ancient built chamber of strange metallic tinted marble like materials. It was gold-white of the ancient builders who were in Tamriel even before the first of the Ayleid, being the Aldmer, who had actually built the White Gold Tower despite many assuming it had been the Ayleid who had done so.

 

And there he was, a young dragon all crouched and angry, tired and frightened but ready to rip apart or burn to ashes the creatures that dared to threaten it. It was a true elemental dragonling of fire with red metallic scale-armour and it was all ready to jet flames at the five snarling, stalking spidertaurs, each like a spider main body with eight legs and a goblin upper body covered with spider hairs, with arms, a head and spider type pincers; except the hungry, frightened dragonling had no real flames to send.

 

Drazen slipped out a very small silvery sphere and threw it into the air. Aldmer were of the ancient Enlightened Mer who were very unlike those who had descended from them thanks to an ancient curse gained in the Mythic Age. It was easier and safer but also stronger to use silverlight spell-powers in such a place.

 

The silvery sphere unleashed a flash of silvery light and the spidertaurs screamed out in pain. They turned and fled but Drazen was not done with them; they had broken the Mythic Pact between magical folk and they had to pay the price. Sensing the leader, the big female who had enticed and threatened the smaller female and males to act so stupidly, he threw a silverlight sliverknife.

 

It thudded into her back and she screamed, died and vanished with a sparkling shimmer. The silverlight sliverknife also vanished but returned to Drazen but in a pouch for items that needed cleansing of a special kind.

 

He turned and went over to the dragon. For a while he sat cross legged while the self piteous elemental creature lay with his head in Drazen’s lap and told him about the horrible experiences he had so bravely dealt with.

 

Then Drazen and the dragonling vanished with a sparkling shimmer.

Edited August 1, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

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-2-

OTHERS

ANGELIE MESSIWA

 

Angelie Messiwa was well known by most folk for living a rather meaningless and idle life in her large house in the Temple Plaza District of Imperiarna, the Imperial City. She was quite open about her rather odd and empty routine of her daily existence. Every day she woke up at six in the morning and wandering the elegant ground floor or the walled in ground level gardens to the rear of the house. At 11’Oclock she went to the Foaming Flask Tavern for a languid two hour lunch. At 13’Oclock she returned home for more leisurely nothingness for yet a few more hours until at 18’Oclock she had a two hour dinner. Then more slow routine until she went to bed at 20’Oclock.

 

What most folk knew was not the truth, far from it.

 

Angelie Messiwa served the Imperial Secret Watch, the very old order of agents, observers and others who kept a secret observance through out the Cyrodilin Empire for the sake of the Empire and the Imperial Court. She received messages through clever and concealed ways, sent out messages the same way. Along with her normal servants, all who served the same order, there were others who served her secretly as she kept a large hidden archive of messages, dossiers and other information. Her long public lunches were a chance to send and gain information in a clever fashion hidden right out in view of people.

 

Angelie was not the personality she openly portrayed. She was tough working, hard and dedicated but now she was also concerned.

 

She reviewed the decoded report that had been sent from the Imperial City of Bruma on the activities of the Mythic Dawn, the insane Daedric Cult who worshipped Mehrunes Dagon. Already she had sent copies of the reports onto the Imperial Palace and to the Blades but she feared that they would arrive too late. Two secret observers had been stabbed to death in Bruma, both highly experienced Watchers who were far from being fools.

 

Around her in the large chamber in the first level (above the ground level) clerks bustled, two guards stood against walls in light armour and with weapons ready. The steel reinforced leather armour was non-magical but the swords and shields were of the standard sort of arcane magic as prepared by special kinds of magical artisans. Angelie was part Redguard and part Cyrodilin racial inheritance but was of full Imperial Citizenship. Most of her people were Cyrodilins but there was a pure blood orc and a so called Lower Elf or Lowmer. Though they tried to hide it from her, the others were also concerned.

 

She took the report and walked over to a soft wooden board on a wall where she pinned it carefully in a chosen position. There were other reports there, sketches, a basic map of Bruma and other bits of information. She unconfirmed report of sighting of Mythic Dawn Followers in red robes doing a dark ritual close to the Imperial City of Kvatch, the second largest and wealthiest city in the Empire. Then there was a seer’s dream of lesser daedra monsters storming and burning a major Imperial City but not clearly which one thanks to all of the smoke; which made the seer’s visions more realistic in some odd way.

 

Then there were other odd reports. A large gathering of ogres spotted by frightened hunters at the edges of the Wildzone where no ‘civilized’ folk were allowed to go and where the Empire had no authority or real power.

 

A flight of lost looking elemental dragons appearing briefly near the Cyrodilin Northern Border with Skyrim, a domain that was in theory part of the Empire but which was largely self ruling.

 

There were other reports but the problem was that there were too many of them, they were too divergent and it was hard to form a solid pattern. She went on seeking a pattern anyway.

Edited August 2, 2010 by Maharg67

[Keanumoreira]

Another great story. That makes three; exactly how much are you trying to juggle? :laugh: Your timing is exellent I must say, for I too will be making a story based on Oblivion today. But don't worry, I assure you it is very different. Anyway, glad to see your work is expanding; what will you come up with next?

[Maharg67]

Thanks yet again for your positive feedback, Keanumoreira. I think I might modestly try to juggle about a thousand stories or do you think that might be too many?

 

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Forum%20Additives/Oblivi0003-1.jpg

Edited July 31, 2010 by Maharg67

[Keanumoreira]

Thanks yet again for your positive feedback, Keanumoreira. I think I might modestly try to juggle about a thousand stories or do you think that might be too many?

 

Ha ha, no, I really don't care, that's yours to choose afterall. Juggling stories is good if you can mantain them enough, which I would agree will enhance a natural writers gift.

[Maharg67]

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Forum%20Additives/Oblivi0002-1.jpg

 

Truth is I am bringing another big story to a close or at least a pause soon and this one is taking its place. That is the War of Realities. As for Zippy Zip-A-Long, who knows?

 

-3-

THIRTEEN

DRAZEN, DEZZNI, DOOZLI

 

Drazen met with his triplet sister, Dezzni, and their neobaby special brother at the stagecoach stop-over area just outside of Imperiarna, the Imperial Throne City. She showed him the leather bound book she had bought but only a brief peek as he looked into her backpack. For on the black leather cover were golden symbol-letters and picture-words of the ancient magefolk language.

 

Magefolk of the True Dragonblood were not greatly welcome in the Cyrodilin Empire thanks to a combination of ignorance, fear and the unfair pressure of both the Arcane University and the Mages Guild on Imperial Policy. Intrinsic magic of the magefolk not only did not mix well with traditional arcane magic but it tended to easily overwhelm, distort or even dispel it.

 

Yet they continued to have legal rights as any citizens did. This was partly because magefolk were found to be very useful by powerful interest groups in the Empire at times. Arcane magic, and those who could work it, came from the False Dragonblood.

 

The irony was that the Imperial Dynasty was, secretly, of the True Dragonblood.

 

Doozli watched the convoy building up in line in preparation for departure. With the increase of organised bandit activity stagecoaches went in threes and were protected by both Fighters Guild guards in special guardcoaches and on horse back. There was also a mailcoach as well taking Imperial letters and packages. The chubby muscular figure gurbled away in the pouch at Dezzni’s front.

 

Dezzni spoke in local language, in common Tamriellasin. “We, together, can send the book tonight homeward bound.”

 

Neither Tamriel or the Cyrodilin Empire were truly home.

 

People were bustling around. Some were getting their luggage put onto or into stagecoaches. Some were late in buying tickets and hopeful of finding a place. A pair of young noblemen were arguing with the ticketmaster but he was ignoring their drunken mixture of feeble bribery attempts, threats and charm.

 

It was a typical day at the stagecoach area.

 

Then one of the noblemen turned, grinned at Drazen and spoke in an arrogant tone of voice. “Give me your ticket, boy!”

 

“No!” Drazen responded matter of factly, showing neither anger or fear. “I will neither give my ticket to you or sell it to you. As for calling me ‘boy’, well you are not much older than me physically and clearly a child in the way of the mentality and cultural conditioning.”

 

The young nobleman scowled and drew out his longsword with a small but noticeable moment of clumsiness. The longsword ‘sang’ with arcane magic most likely melded deep into the weapon even as it was forged from the finest steel. Such an expensive and well made sword was a waste on such a fool.

 

With amazing speed and fluid grace, Drazen drew out his own longsword and went into a defensive fighting stance of a flexible mystery style meant to keep a foe guessing what might happen next.

 

The other young nobleman took one look at Drazen and swore outwardly. Then he grabbed his companion by the shoulder. “Fool, can you not see what he is? We will go back into the city and we will sleep in some hired rooms taken on credit and when we have awoken, bathed and otherwise refreshed ourselves, I will seek golden coins from my Uncle Ranshi.”

 

But then, with a cry of rage, the first nobleman rushed at the magefolk man and he cried. “Die, filthy magefolk, die.”

 

Seconds later Drazen was pulling his sword from the dead man’s chest. Then he looked up and around himself to note that his sister had vanished, wisely enough, with the neobaby. The young nobleman who had attacked had been possessed by far more than lots of strong alcohol; he had been demonically possessed in a fashion that spiritually stank of the daedra.

 

But who would believe him, a wandering magefolk man sneaking through the Empire and pretending to be just a normal citizen?

Edited August 1, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

-4-

OTHERS

THORONIR CAPLOK

 

Thoronir opened up a shop in the bustling Imperial Market District of Imperiarna, the Imperial Throne City, knowing that starting out was going to be difficult. He did not have a bad name but neither did he have a good name. No, he was an unknown thanks to the way he had escaped from his old life in Bruma where the Merchant Guild had caught him trying to cheat them. Thoronir really did not have any real sense of guilt but he really hated looking bad in the eyes of others. As long as things were out of sight, for him they were out of mind.

 

When the slimy thug Agarmir had come offering to sell him a good range of amazingly cheap goods, Thoronir had not asked any questions. Instead he had just smiled and had soon bought his first delivery of secretly delivered goods brought to the shop through the amazing maze of ways beneath the shops. The first delivery was a mixture of good quality stuff but normal enough for all that; there were clothes, boots, a nice vase, some golden rings and more of the same.

 

But when Agarmir made his second secret delivery, for such a cunning monster he made a mistake. The bland looking leather bound book that he sold to Thoronir for a mere single goldworth was ancient, mystical and worth at least a thousand times that much. Then Agarmir began to bring other odd little items that he managed to sell to Thoronir much cheaper than they really were worth.

 

Only trouble was the merchant was not sure who would want to buy such exotic goods let alone who could pay so well for them. On the night of the fifth secret delivery he sat in his office study at his evaluation and sorting table that he used for special goods. Before him was the book of terrible dark magic bound in human skin leather, three daedric magic rings glistening black with blood red trimmings, a necromancer wand both thin and sharpish looking and something that looked like a crossbow-pistol with an oddly small bow to it that he supposed might be some sort of Ayleid wonder weapon.

 

Where was Agarmir getting the small number of amazing items that came with the majority of other stuff? Then again, just where was he getting any of it? Thoronir was becoming uncomfortable for now he was starting to get curious, was starting to ask questions of himself and that meant his out of sight, out of mind coping mechanism was not going to work any more.

 

Thoronir poured some moderately cheap wine into a brass goblet and took a few gulps of the red liquid. Then he sighed and closed his eyes as he continued to try to work out his various options. So it was that he failed to see the very small crystal globe, of blood red colour, suddenly glow on one of the rings. By the time he opened his eyes again, the glow was gone and the merchant was none the wiser to the real danger that he was in.

Edited August 3, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

-5-

THIRTEEN

ALISHA

 

Alisha could not shake the feeling that something was wrong as she paced quietly along a flagstone footpath through a green garden in the sprawling walled city of Kvatch. She wore the robe-tunic of a scholar of the University of Natural Philosophies that was patched to show her awards and credentials as an alchemist, a philosopher, an archivist and a scribe. Her brilliance gave her boons and awards but caused stupid jealousies not just amongst other students of the university but amongst her so called betters.

 

She wondered how they would feel if they knew she was a kind of secret shapeshifter and a spy learning more about Tamriel and the Cyrodilin Empire for the sake of her trapped people.

 

With her enhanced hearing and other senses she picked up the rather clumsy fool pacing after her through the park area of trees and grasses. It was dim with the long evening twilight and there should have been the noise of crickets and other bugs but the area was far too quiet. Public torch-lamps burned hanging high from poles so they could not be easily stolen but public lighting was not good in many parts of the big old sprawling city.

 

Along a way she walked through arches of marble blocks woven with vines and then she leapt smoothly upwards, quiet and quick, to crouch in hiding there amongst much greenery of leaves. Her movements were not now those of a quiet thoughtful scholar or scribe who spent much time in libraries, library-studies or in laboratory-workshops.

 

Brucen came pelting madly along the same footpath in a robe-tunic, clutching a steel bladed longknife. His eyes glowed softly red and he moved with an odd mixture of erratic high strength. He was demonic; his true self was gone, was burned away. He had allowed himself to be domonified. Then he came to a halt, sniffed the air with demonic enhanced senses and growled softly. As he did he revealed rows of long fangs and bloody saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth. Being domonified enhanced abilities but at the cost of health and even life.

 

Alisha slipped a short silver tube out of a hidden place in her robe-tunic, slipped a dart into it and then quietly aimed and then shot the man with a silvery dart. What had been Brucen, the young man who had come to hate Alisha because she had dared to reject the arrogant young fool, screamed in a mixture of rage and agony. Then he shuddered and collapsed to the flagstones, writhed horribly and died. Still he writhed some more until he finally came still.

 

By the time a pair of women came accidentally upon the body, both Alisha and the silver blowtube dart were gone. The Imperial Constabulary came running in their steel studded stiffened leather armour and with their rubberised clubs.

Edited August 1, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

-6-

OTHERS

BAURUS ZHANE, THE BLADES

 

Baurus was of the Blades, the special order of knights who guarded the Emperor and often carried out other, special duties for him. Except on that night he bore no open markings or other sign that he was anything but a citizen of the lower classes making his way carefully through the Undercity. Undercity was the exotic city of the poor, the social misfits and others not wanted in the city proper.

 

The Thieves Guild was strong in the Undercity but they were of no real concern to him that night. He was after whispers of activities of the Mythic Dawn. He made his way through ancient Ayleid built grand hallways where crystals still glowed pale blue, green or yellow light. Lamps flickered a little in bronze wall-sconces. People thronged through the hallways.

 

Goblins were fairly common down there but these were so called semicitizens. They bore no ill will towards the Empire but served it in many ways. There were amphibious lizardfolk there as well, Argonians with their amazing coloured scaleskin. Their were orcs, humans of course, stocky gnomes, even stockier dwarves, other beastfolk of various kinds and some others even odder.

 

He stopped briefly at a stall selling small hand-jars of sharp smelling perfumed ointments, bought a couple with good quality Imperial Coins, and moved on quickly knowing that he was being followed by a couple of experts at such things. He had liked the Undercity from the first moment he had entered it when he was much younger but he had to admit that it could be very dangerous at times; at least it could be so for an imperial agent like himself.

 

The Dark Brotherhood was said to have a headquarters of some kind down there as was the much newer Assassins Guild that was far from being a friend of the Dark Brotherhood. Then again the Orderhood was strong in the Undercity as well but they had to be as their Sisters and Brothers provided welfare as goods and services to many of the poorest and most unwanted.

 

Then he was confronting a beggar, an old woman bent about a third over in a grey slightly stained hooded robe. She spoke quietly and clearly to him. “This is a gift from the Thieves Guild to the Emperor and the Empire. The Mythic Dawn are planning to kill his greatness and his three useless sons in one strike. There are traitors in the Imperial Court, in the Imperial Government and in the… well all over really. We had to exterminate a few of the trouble makers ourselves lately. Mythic Dawn scum. Keep an eye out for the Undeathless, a very weird bunch of very nasty necromancers who may be trying to form an alliance with the Mythic Dawn. A nice silver coin will do for appearances sake.”

 

Baurus nodded, having had confirmed some of his worst fears and having learned some new ones. He passed over a silver coin. Very soon he was leaving Undercity and was on his way to a Blade Safehouse in the Docklands District where many working families lived amongst warehouses, workshoptories, factories and other industrial places.

Edited August 2, 2010 by Maharg67

[Keanumoreira]

You know, your writing is unlike any I've ever seen before. Something is different about it, like it's a whole new genra of writing yet to be discovered or something. I can't put my finger on what I'm trying to compare it to... :confused: :wallbash: