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The Elder Scrolls - RIse of the Horde


species5478

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The following story is set in the Elder Scrolls Universe, and follows the tale of Isah and Morus. These Master-Wizards have been sent on a mission by the Arch-Mage to assassinate the God of Death. Yet before they can complete their assignment, three demigods stand in their way; each guarding a section of the dark portal leading into the Underworld, where the God of Death awaits. Parental Discretion is advised.
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Chapter 1 – Howling

 

 

 

The altar was fresh with entrails that dripped down all four sides in crooked parallel lines. Pieces of flesh lay scattered across the top. A dagger, stained with the blood of its victim, lay docile in the center of all the carnage as if exhausted from the heinous act of killing. Raising a hand, I conjured the spirit of Arkay until my palm grew bright with his blessing. With Arkay's help, I could feel darkness beating in rhythmic pulses from the stained blade. Even though the sacrificial weapon was studded with precious jewels I did not take it. The souls of its victims etched a permanent curse into the fabric of the dagger, rendering it useless to me.

 

I turned, and faced the frigid gust blowing against my backside. These ruins were sealed. Gusts were therefore, generic manifestations of Necromancy or…perhaps something worst. The body that now lay behind me, sprawled on the altar, was not the work of a Necromancer. Their rituals were more…calculated. Incisions they made were usually precise. Even meaningful, if only to the sick of mind. Necromancers also had that nasty tendency of resurrecting corpses or sacrificing a well preserved heart to Deadric entities. In this sense, a body was precious.

 

But the carnage on the altar behind me…

 

The body had no purpose to the killer. He was only interested in capturing the soul. And I knew of no gems large enough to contain such a prize. The altar served only to better dismember its latest victim. And although a knife was used, the dismemberment was anything but precise. In fact, the corpse appeared to have been chopped apart in a haphazard fashion. Usually, an axe was required for such guttural work but the wielder of that sacrificial dagger wanted to feel closer to his victim and thus, chose an instrument that would make him feel as though he were touching the fading life-force of his victim, as they were being killed. But to chop a body apart with a dagger…that would require superhuman strength.

 

"Who or, what killed that man on the altar behind me? And more importantly, do I really want to find out?"

 

I moved on.

 

These ruins were unusually dark. Lamps and or campfires did not exist here. Using a spell I acquired from a Mage in the Imperial City, I raised my fist after collecting the proper dosage of Magicka, and opened my palm. Energy flowed down my arm and covered my entire body as though I were standing under a streaming waterfall. My eyes glistened with golden light, illuminating the gloom with my pupils. With a wider scope of my surroundings, I immediately noticed something painted on the far wall.

 

"Words…"

 

A message, perhaps? Maybe the random ramblings of madman? Lowering my staff, I strolled slowly across the room taking care to avoid the pools of blood dotting the floor. Normally, I'd use an anti-encumbrance spell to levitate over such mess but I had a feeling that I'd need every bit of Magicka to see my way out of this dark place.

 

The phrase, "I've been waiting for you." Was painted on the wall in what I assumed to be blood. The words were crafted with the eloquent strokes of a steady hand. There was even a period to complete the sentence. This was a definite sign of a disturbed mind. What kind of person could sadistically rip a Wood Elf apart, and then use his blood to write a message with such calm and artistic grace? The chamber reeks of this person's madness. And it permeates the air long after his passing. Who had the power to do such a thing?

 

A demon?

 

A madman?

 

Was there really any difference?

 

I raised my staff, and illuminated the dark aura wafting through the air. It was a sentient residue from a distant realm. There was no doubt the aura monitored my movements, informing its master of my whereabouts.

 

A noise startled me

 

"Howling?"

 

Yes…but not the howling of wind.

 

Something, inhuman moved through the dank ruins. And whatever it was, seemed to be moving in my direction. I did not run, even though ever fiber of my being screamed for retreat. It had to be stopped. The senseless killing…the violence…it all had to end. So I walked slowly into the darkness with my staff and only friend Morus, clutched in my hands as the howling grew louder...

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The legend returns...

 

Such a wonderful masterpiece, a sense of something familair lies hidden in those words, one that most writers here in this garden, including myself, don't possess. I'm looking forward to where this is headed; Species, you fail to disappoint, marvelous job. :thumbsup:

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Chapter 2 – The Enemy of My Enemy

 

 

 

The persistent howling tore into my lobes but I knew of no spell that could nullify sound. It grew louder with every second; bouncing off the Ayleid ruin’s dusty walls and echoing like a thousand voices emerging from all directions. The supernatural effect distorted my sense of orientation with such effectiveness, that I had no idea where it came from.

 

As I pressed onward, the distant sounds of shouting emerged from one of the rooms ahead. I could hear a male and female voice yelling. The casting of Destruction magic mixed with the shrill howling of the entity I was here to find. Dust fell from the ceiling as the chamber shook from the furious battle taking place somewhere ahead. Then suddenly, the woman screamed with such bloodcurdling volume, that I could feel the final moments of her life passing through her shrieks. As her life faded into silence, the howling stopped, and all went quiet.

 

“Isah,” Morus whispered. “Be careful.”

 

I pulled my staff closer, and slowed my pace as I rounded the next corner. An iron gate separated my section of the ruins from the next half. I pushed it open, and cringed from the hissing hinges begging for droplets of oil.

 

I now faced an indoor bridge that appeared empty. Undisturbed tombs flanked below, and I saw nothing amongst the stone coffers except for that sentient aura. I crossed the bridge half expecting something to leap out at me, yet nothing happened. But when I made it to the other side, I found a dismembered arm lying on the ground.

 

“It belongs to a female,” Said Morus. “And it looks like the limb was ripped out of its socket.”

 

“There’s a blood trail.” I noted. With the tip of my finger, I traced the trail to a flight of steps to my right. “Morus, are you fully charged?”

 

“Yes. Perhaps now is the time for discretion?”

 

“Agreed.”

 

I was a Master of Mysticism and Illusion. Morus was the Destruction and Alteration Master. Together, we made a formidable team. And because Morus was a staff, his powers were completely under my control. Raising my palm, I cast my Spectral Form spell, and turned invisible to the naked eyes of anything nearby.

 

The blood trail veered up the set of narrow steps, and directly towards a lone figure hunched over the dismembered remains of the other, less fortunate individual. I could tell from the dark robe and hood, that he was a Necromancer. I was tempted to attack him right then, but there was something about his demeanor that made me pause.

 

The slightly bobbing head…

 

The muffled cries…

 

The way he grasped the dismembered torso in his arms…

 

This was a man who has just lost a loved one and appeared trapped in the unforgiving tornado of mourning and revenge. I raised my palm, and evoked the power of Mara just to confirm my suspicions. I could see the glistening sphere of rage churning within the Necromancer’s soul. It was a new rage, freshly born by the murder of the person he held in his arms. I’ve seen this type of pain before. The remnants of his love will be devoured by this new grief if he cannot conquer it. And if left unchecked, it will consume his soul entirely.

 

I didn’t want to disturb him even though Necromancers were my mortal enemies. Nevertheless, he was in my way. My target lingered somewhere beyond and this stairway was the only way forward. I knew disturbing him in a moment like this, would only lead to a hostile confrontation. And Necromancers drew their strength from dark energies of all sorts. The one crouched ahead on the stairs above, would be at his strongest now. The Necromancer’s grief would empower him so I decided caution was the best policy. Hoping he didn’t sense me, I decided to sneak pass him. However, when I took one step onto the stairway, the Necromancer curled his fingers and channeled a blazing ball of fire into his fist. Light illuminated the entire stairway and only now did I notice the blood trickling down the steps in a crimson stream.

 

“Mage Guild SCUM,” He seethed with such ferocity that gusts of fire foamed from his breath. “Turn away…or I will use your body as a meat puppet!”

 

I gasped. This was not the time to be submissive, or even consolatory. Still, I wasn’t sure what to do. All I knew was that I didn’t want to waste Magicka fighting with a Necromancer. “I need to pass. I’ve come to purge the darkness from this place.”

 

The Necromancer stood slowly with the torso of his beloved cradled like a newborn. Blood soaked his robe and the constant sight of it everywhere I went, was sickening. The Necro’s flaming palm burned the corpse but he didn’t seem to care. He turned towards me scowling, and I watched the Necromancer dig his fingers into the torso’s flesh and grasp the backbone.

 

“That…thing,” He yelled. “Killed my sister! It must die by my hands!” Both of his palms grew bright with fire as the Necromancer set his sister’s remains ablaze. He then lifted the torso skyward screaming, “I will kill it! NOT YOU!”

 

He tossed the flaming torso down the stairway with such force, that I had only a second to react. I swung Morus wildly, and batted the flaming torso into the side of the stairway. The remains slid down the wall as I cast an absorption spell in anticipation of another attack. But when I looked up the steps, the Necromancer was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Damn you Isah, I am not a club!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I am covered in blood now!”

 

Morus was right; I shouldn’t have used him so primitively. Between the two of us, I could have found a better means of retaliation.

 

Instead of climbing the steps, I used my anti-encumbrance spell to levitate the height of the stairway. I noticed bloody footsteps moving down the hallway, only to disappear around the left corner of a nearby intersection.

 

“So he’s skilled in Illusion too, huh?” I cast a Legendary Life Detection spell just to make sure he was gone before floating forward.

 

“He called it, thing.” Said Morus. “What do you think he meant by that?”

 

“These killings certainly aren’t the work of a man. I’m sure of that now. I think we might have found the first demigod.”

 

“Which one?”

 

I bit my bottom lip. “Gorah.”

 

“Gorah?” Morus repeated firmly. “The embodiment of darkness? Demigod of shadows? Of course, how ignorant of me…can we stop it?”

 

“I’m not sure, but we have to find Gorah quickly. We can’t afford to lose the first key of the Underworld to a Necromancer.”

 

“That is assuming he can kill a demigod. Do you think a Necromancer is capable of such a feat?”

 

“Anything is possible. But I don’t want to leave the fate of the Mage’s Guild, in the hands of a Necromancer. Let’s go.”

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Chapter 3 – Running Gold

 

 

 

"You are going to get us killed, Isah."

 

I grit my teeth. Morus couldn't resist badgering me. "You're already dead." I noted, shaking him lightly. Morus turned icy, and my hand stuck to his wooden shaft. He knew I hated that. Especially now that he was bloody.

 

"We should leave," The staff relented. "This demigod possesses a new form of darkness. I have never seen anything like it. Let us return to the Arcane University and research its origins."

 

"The time for research has passed. I'm going to confront Gorah and abolish it from this world." I shuddered from freezing air blowing in my direction. "Have you already forgotten the worshippers at Peryite's Shrine? That carnage...it's the same as the Wood Elf dismembered on the altar back there."

 

"Since when have you cared about Deadric worshippers?"

 

"I care for all victims of injustice."

 

"Their alliance to the Neither Realm is blasphemous."

 

I flicked a few strings of wandering red hair away from my face. "They have become victims of a demigod that we've been stalking. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

 

"And what if you die here? What will happen to me? Am I destined to simply wait on the floor next to your rotting corpse until some wandering fool picks me up in a century or two?" I grit my teeth and Morus quickly apologized. "I am sorry Isah…but I love you dearly. My worldly life is over yes…but I fear what may happen to you in this place."

 

"Then help me find, and defeat this monster."

 

Morus grew warm in my palm, and I was thankful for any comfort that he could provide. "I will. I promise, Isah. May the Nine guide and protect us."

 

I followed the Necromancer's bloody footprints until they faded away next to a gold miniature of Clavicus Vile. A life-sized granite statue of a dog sat nearby and when I reached out to grab Clavicus, the dog spoke to me.

 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

 

My heart skipped a beat and I immediately point my staff at the dog-shaped statue. It remained motionless but smiled warmly as I took a few steps back.

 

"Smart girl. Wish I could say that about the other guy. You don't want to share his fate…"

 

"Who are you? And who are you talking about?"

 

 

"I am Barbas. Hound of Clavicus Vile."

 

"Daedra," Morus seethed. "You're nothing but trouble!" Morus suddenly unleashed a fireball that showered Barbas with flames, but the hound didn't flinch.

 

"Your companion isn't too bright, is he?" Barbas laughed. "Doesn't he know stone can't be burned?"

 

"Stop it, Morus!" I shook my staff a few times until Morus agreed to quit his premature casting. Satisfied that Barbas wasn't an immediate threat, I leaned on Morus for support as I continued to question the Daedra. "What did you mean by, I don't want to share his fate?"

 

"Oh I tried to warn Clavicus about Umbra, but he wouldn't listen. No no no…he just wouldn't listen to me, and sent some adventurer to retrieve it. And when Clavicus finally got his hands on Umbra, it cursed him!"

 

"Umbra?"

 

"Yes. It was a dark sword. A powerful soul trapping sword. But alas…all of the souls killed by Umbra escaped, and locked Clavicus inside of his own realm! Anyone who touches that golden figurine there, is sucked inside. Pity. I liked that place…"

 

"So, why aren't you locked away with him?" I asked leaning forward.

 

"I knew there was going to trouble so I stayed here, in Tamriel. But…I am still in a bit of pickle of you see."

 

"We don't care!" Morus yelled. I could feel him growing hot in my hands, and tried to cool Morus down with a frost spell.

 

"What's wrong?" I asked the Daedra.

 

Barbas sighed. "Now that Clavicus is gone, I'm in need a new Master. Will you help me?"

 

"I will not be your Master."

 

Barbas laughed wildly. "Silly girl! I can't have a human Master! That's so…beneath me! No no no…I require the companionship of Daedra Lord."

 

"Then what do you want from me?"

 

"I want you to take me to a new cult. Sanguine will do just fine. I hear he can be quite the entertainer."

 

I chewed my bottom lip as I considered the request. "And my reward?"

 

"I can teach you a new spell. Have you ever wanted to walk on water?"

 

"I am a Master-Wizard. Water walking spells are so…beneath me." I stood up straight, and turned around.

 

"Wait!" Barbas called out. "Perhaps gold will whet your sensibilities?"

 

"Sorry…"

 

"I'll give you five hundred pieces of gold, just to release me!"

 

I twirled around, and curled a brow. "Release you?"

 

"Yes…you see, I am still bound to Clavicus by this awful dog chain! I cannot break its hold on my own. That's against the laws of Daedric order. But if you simply…slid it off my neck, then I would be free. What do you say?"

 

"Don't," Morus warned. "He can't be trusted!"

 

Again I found myself chewing my bottom lip. Clavicus Vile didn't earn his name by being nice. But this was his hound, and I needed gold. So I approached the dog slowly, and used Morus to finger the collar on Barbas' neck. When I slid the collar off, tiny pieces of stone popped away from the statue's body like flakes of ash. Bit by bit, the furry brown hound hidden within was revealed.

 

"Ahhh…that's much better. I was beginning to feel so stiff…"

 

"Can I burn him now?" Morus asked.

 

I didn't dignify that question with an answer. "Now tell me Barbas, where's my gold?"

 

"I'll have to get it," The hound smiled as he ran off. "See you later!"

 

I screamed. "Hey! Get back here!" And tossed a lightning bolt at the furry Daedra but I missed, and that mangy dog slipped around a corner laughing.

 

"I told you Isah…"

 

My face reddened. "Shut up!"

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