The Elder Scrolls - RIse of the Horde

[SilverDNA]

I have to agree with all that is here mentioned . I :laugh: ed, :thumbsup: ed, :woot: ed, :wub: ed it.

Isah and Barbas make a perfect funny couple and the more fun to read on your truly fascinating story. Thank you!

[species5478]

@K- I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'm a deathly serious person half of the time, and then completely silly the next. I think this story reflects that aspect of my nature. I have three dogs and they've done all kinds of crazy things. (including peeing on things they shouldn't)

 

@RobcoPublicReasurrance- Thanks for taking the time to comment! There's so much enjoyment to be had from entertaining you. My traditional novel length ventures are written in 3rd person. I've used the Nexus as a testing ground for 1st person storytelling.

 

@Maharg-Thanks for commenting! Your suggestions are noted but honestly, I don't know where my stories will take me. My imagination runs wild like an untamed stallion, bucking ideas all over the place.

 

@SilverDNA-I originally intended to write another serious scene, but it evolved into to something jovial by sheer happenstance. Sometimes, when I decide what I character's personality will be, they influence my writing in ways I never expected.

[Maharg67]

@K- I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'm a deathly serious person half of the time, and then completely silly the next. I think this story reflects that aspect of my nature. I have three dogs and they've done all kinds of crazy things. (including peeing on things they shouldn't)

 

@RobcoPublicReasurrance- Thanks for taking the time to comment! There's so much enjoyment to be had from entertaining you. My traditional novel length ventures are written in 3rd person. I've used the Nexus as a testing ground for 1st person storytelling.

 

@Maharg-Thanks for commenting! Your suggestions are noted but honestly, I don't know where my stories will take me. My imagination runs wild like an untamed stallion, bucking ideas all over the place.

 

@SilverDNA-I originally intended to write another serious scene, but it evolved into to something jovial by sheer happenstance. Sometimes, when I decide what I character's personality will be, they influence my writing in ways I never expected.

 

Every word you say, Species5478, jells with my own experiece as a writer. I also have difficulty deciding if to be dark, hard or more jovial, warm hearted.

 

Recently a stray cat came into my life. Crazy but can be very effectionate. Also can be very aloof at times. Some care, some food, some other needs met and she is looking like a brand new cat and acting less neurotic, less frightened. Threw up all over the lounge room carpet. Knows enough toilet training to go to the litter box but not enough to cover it up (I or my brother do that with a hand trowel).

 

3rd Person is most common in novels and much creative writing, in some ways is easier to write.

 

My imagination also goes all over the place, too many ideas, too many false starts. Oh, I am starting my novel. If you wish I will notify you when it is done and send you a copy of the first chapter, much better than the one you have already seen.

 

As for characters influencing a story, this is something quite normal to writing. Many famous and well known writers have said the same as you have about their characters, their writing.

 

LOL, Graham alias Maharg67

[antonkr]

This is amazing story. Cant wait for the next chapter!

[species5478]

Chapter 7 A Friend and Enemy

 

 

 

My head still throbbed from the falling debris in Gorah's lair. I did what I could to seal the wound, but Restoration was not one of my strongest skills and the Necromancer confiscated all of my potions and scrolls. To make matters worse I was thirsty, half-naked, and had to scrape moistened moss off the walls for use as a wet cloth, to wash away the bloody demonic symbols covering my body. I removed all but the Devil's Pentagram for this one symbol seemed tattooed onto my skin with Conjuration magic. An expert level Rebuke Undead spell would be an appropriate counter but I was only a Novice in the art of Conjuration and would need assistance removing the Pentagram.

 

Murmuring quietly I wondered, "Why did he mark me anyway?" Stroking the Devil's Pentagram with my fingertips, I traced the path it made across the contours of my belly. "Maybe he was using this symbol to retrieve the key from me. Why else would the Necro do this? My magical barriers are very complex though. It would take a skilled hand to crack them. That aside, I need to find Morus and get out of here…" I had a feeling the Necromancer would be in the main sacrificial chamber on the first floor of the ruins.

 

I was right.

 

As I neared my destination, the worshiper's chants echoed through the hallowed halls like a beacon in the dark. I followed the repeating utterance like an addict searching for their fix. Rarely did I feel this carnal…but the stakes were high.

 

Confronting the Necromancer and Morus, meant facing the power of two Master-Wizards; both specialized in the art of Destruction Magic. Morus had only rudimentary control over his actions now that he was a staff. And Morus' freedoms were dependant on the wielder and there was no doubt the Necro had removed his few independent enchantments that I bestowed upon him. I was weaponless and a Mage without a staff was like a Nord warrior without a sword. What could I hope to achieve with Mysticism and Illusion as my main arsenals?

 

The answer eluded me.

 

Even still, I pressed onward. I had to find Morus, and free him of the darkness that is Necromancy. But…there was more to it than that. Morus meant the world to me. I would die without him…I feared being lost like the petals of rose pulled from the stem, left drifting in the wind. I needed him, perhaps more than he needed me. Life's complications could be so burdensome this way…

 

"Yidar, Socus, armpalo er mandel hork er Lucifer rah commidar…"

 

The Necromancer's words chilled me to the bone. His utterance seemed beastly and malevolent…as if he were trying to conjure something otherworldly into Tamriel. I wanted to run away and had to pause several times just to gather the strength to move on.

 

Ornate candles formed a perfect circle in the center of the room. The Necro sat cross-legged within his burning candles along with a single king cobra and numerous black mambas. The mambas danced to his chants and circled the cobra slowly as if paying homage to its flailed hood. Heads swaying slowly back and forth, the reptiles bobbed with an unnaturally perfect sync that looked eerily demonic from my vantage point. I noticed Morus lying on the ground behind the Necromancer and didn't hesitate reaching out to him.

 

"Come to me…" After casting my Remote Manipulation spell, I tried to quickly snatch Morus away from the Necromancer but he was privy to my presence, and grabbed the staff right out of the air when I levitated it.

 

"You foolish, foolish girl…did you really think it was going to be that easy?" The dark worshiper stood up, and turned slowly in my directly. His snakes hissed as they gathered around their Master's legs and in that moment of uncertainty, I discovered a weakness…

 

"I'm willing to trade with you. Give me the staff, and I will give you Gorah's key to the God of Death's realm."

 

The Necromancer laughed with a deeply seeded vein of disdain. "When your life is absolved by the minions of Oblivion, the leftover remains will serve as my sister's new body."

 

I was right…his weakness lingered. My only option was to cast the Illusion that I was the Necromancer's fallen sister. It was shameless, I know…but he was too powerful to defeat in a head-to-head battle without my staff. But even if I could hypnotize him, I would have to get to close enough to paralyze the Necro with a touch.

 

I spread my arms wide, and cast a custom made Hypnotism spell that trapped the Necromancer, and even his snakes in my mesmerizing grasp. They were stunned by a single sway of my hand…snared the illusion that I was the Necromancer's sister.

 

But I was morally torn…

 

What gave me the right to tamper with the most sacred parts of a person's spirit? If anything is to be cherished, it's the memories and emotions that we hold dear to us. This was the common thread amongst all humans, Mage and Necromancer alike. To pillage the contents of one's mind was considered viler than rape, for the desecration of one's body soils only healable flesh. But the mind was a holy place. To invade a person's thoughts and emotions meant forever tainting their spirit with your presence. And if the subject's mind was stronger than your own, prepare for a comatose state as a vegetable…

 

Yet, I was not an enslaver of souls. The Necromancer's crimes far exceeded my desperate act tenfold. By the credence of the Nine Divines, I had rights to his mind…

 

He seemed to fall for the guise, but I wasn't sure if my adversary was faking or not…the Necromancer still held that cursed sacrificial dagger tightly in his right hand. Would he stab me with it I got close? Maybe he was tricking me into a false sense of security…I had to be sure.

 

"Annabel," He asked in a boy's voice. "Is that you?"

 

"Yes," I answered in Annabel's voice. "It's me, your sister."

 

"I thought you were dead…"

 

"I am," I exclaimed reaching out, feeling his mind for more clues. "You failed to protect me, like you promised. Now my soul will wonder these ruins forevermore…as a ghost."

 

Tears burst from Yazeril's eyes. He dropped to his knees, and hacked one of the black mambas to pieces. "I'm so sorry Annabel! I tried to protect you…I really did! Please forgive me! I'll do anything to bring you back!"

 

After probing the Necro's emotional aura for clues to his sister's personality, I found something useful to exploit. "Yazeril, do you remember the lute you gave me at the Weathermead Gathering?" Using Illusion magic, I produced a glowing lute from behind my back and stroked the cords just once.

 

Yazeril raised his dagger slightly as he tried to break free of my Illusion. He was vaguely aware that something was afoot, but the memory that I evoked was too compelling. "Yes," He eventually answered in a near whisper. "I made you that lute from Redwood."

 

"I love it. It reminds me of the Gathering, when we became Necromancers. Would you like to hear me play?"

 

Yazeril's eyes turned glossy. The memory of that day strengthened my spell, and he now appeared transfixed by the lute. "Please. Will you play…"

 

"The Song of Mourning?" I finished.

 

"Yes!" The Necromancer exclaimed excitedly. "It's my favorite song."

 

"I know…now relax. Put down your weapons."

 

I stroked the lute lightly with my fingertips, and the soothing tones calmed even the snakes who curled up as I continued playing. I could see Yazeril's hand shaking from the temptation to release his arms. The request was too great, forcing me to concentrate on one weapon at a time. So I stepped slowly forward, and increased the volume as I neared the Necromancer.

 

"Put the staff down, Yazeril."

 

Yazeril wavered slightly as I neared. Snake blood dripped form the blade and made odd circles on the ground. After struggling with my request, he dropped the staff. I feared my trance would be broken if I stopped strumming the lute…and I had to release it to grab Morus, or paralyze my adversary.

 

"Now put the dagger down, Yazeril." I demanded, but he refused to drop the blade. There was something in those dark snakes eyes that remained untouchable. An evil that was sealed off form rest of the world. Something imbedded so far into Yazeril's soul, that I couldn't reach it. That part of him remained…and appeared to be staring back at me right now…fighting for a way out…fighting for a way to kill me…

 

I knew then, that he wouldn't drop the blade. Getting the Necromancer within arm's length wasn't enough. That left me with only one option.

 

"Hug me." I said, stepping closer.

 

Yazeril raised the bloody blade and for a fleeting moment…I thought he was going to slash my throat. Instead, the Necromancer spread his arms, and embraced me lovingly. My hands were pinned within Yazeril's grasp and I didn't hesitate pressing my face against his cheek the moment I was forced to stop playing the lute. The taste of salty tears seeped into my mouth as I paralyzed my adversity with a kiss. My hypnotic spell was instantly broken and once Yazeril realized what had happened, I pushed away from him, and grabbed my staff.

 

"HIIIISSSSSSSSS!"

 

Two of the snakes leaped for me, but I roasted them with a large fireball courtesy of Morus. I immediately aimed the staff towards the Necro, but Morus intervened.

 

"Don't do it!" Leave him alive until the curse is removed!"

 

"What curse?"

 

"There's no time," He argued. "Just trust me, ok? Get out of here!"

 

I did as Morus asked, and made a run for it. I knew my paralysis wouldn't last. It didn't take long before I could hear the enraged screams of the Necromancer echoing through the ruins. But I was too far away to be caught and made it safely to the exit where Barbas awaited.

 

"You have the staff? Good. We should go now. That Necromancer won't waste time with a sacrificial ceremony if he finds us. Next time, he's going to do everything possible to kill you." Barbas followed eagerly as I pushed open the door, and stepped into the golden light of day.

[SilverDNA]

Way to bring on a story between the lines species5478 :thumbsup: I have vague picture of what you are up to. As always when reading one of your chapters I cant wait to read the next. Thank you.

[RobCoPublicReassurance]

Excellent, as expected. I can't wait for the next chapter! This is fantastic!

[Keanumoreira]

Expertly written Species. :happy:

[Maharg67]

Very excellent, Species5478!!!

 

I am going to use the WATCH THIS topic function from now on so I don't miss out on any new posts.

 

LOL, Graham, alias Maharg67

Edited September 8, 2010 by Maharg67

[species5478]

Chapter 8 Darkness under the Sun

 

 

 

I felt liberated. With the first key in my possession, there was a chance the Mage’s Guild would succeed with our assassination plot. The God of Death, in all his unholy glory, could be killed like any other entity. But killed was a relative term. Death only meant transitioning from one plain of existence to another. Like all life forms in Tamriel, if this God was killed inside of our realm, it would be permanently banished from returning in its original form.

 

The God of Death…formally known as Endar, was a shadow of the Nine Divines and Daedra. This powerful entity was capable of taking the life of any Divinity or Lord, ensuring a balance between gods and men. They in turn, were powerless against Endar who served as a kind of scale, leveling power. But the natural order of life and death was unbalanced when Endar murdered one of the Daedra Lords for no discernable reason. What happens when a God of Death murders an innocent? The Nine couldn’t retaliate. Neither could the Daedra. Only a human could stop Endar from murdering again.

 

This is where the Guilds came in…

 

The Nine Divines, fearing for their lives, contacted our Arch Mage for assistance. He then ordered our best Master Wizards to find the keys to Endar’s portal. Three of them failed to recover any of the keys, and were murdered in the months that followed. I wasn’t even considered for the job. Being both the youngest and newest Wizard to the Guild, there wasn’t much faith in my abilities. So I secretly departed from the University against the Arch Mage’s wishes. Now that I successfully defeated Gorah, I hoped my initial request would be approved once I safely placed the key in the Arch Mage’s possession.

 

The Daedra responded by hiring Necromancers. Yazeril was only one their agents. Hopefully, none of the other Necromancers succeeded in obtaining other keys but I knew little regarding their plans.

 

Exhausted from my previous trials I relaxed by an oak tree and stared at the Imperial City in the distance. I’d need an entire day to reach the Arcane University and was so tired that I dozed off in the shade as Morus and Barbas watched over me. It wasn’t long before they detected something.

 

“Isah,” They whispered. “We think someone has followed us.”

 

I didn’t move. After casting a life detection spell, I discovered the presence of someone lurking behind a nearby boulder. “Who’s there?” I asked, raising my staff.

 

The lone individual dispelled his cloaking magic and emerged into view. I almost fired my staff after nearly mistaking this person for Yazeril. The dark robes were similar, but I realized this person was not a Necromancer.

 

“You’re from the Dark Brotherhood?” I asked.

 

“Yes.” The lone figure answered. “My name is Lucien Lachance.”

 

“Yelp!” Barbas squealed before running off. “That’s a real assassin! I’m out of here!”

 

“Hey, where are you going you stupid mutt!” Morus yelled, but Barbas was already gone.

 

I didn’t take my eyes off Lucien. He smiled wickedly and folded his hands in a non-threatening manner. “You sleep pretty soundly, for a murderer…”

 

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “I’m no murderer.” I protested.

 

“But of course you are…” Said Lucien licking his lips. “Do you really think the death of a deity is any less deserving of the Night Mother’s attention? Gorah was a powerful being. By killing it, you gained the Night Mother’s love, and have secured a place within our…family.”

 

I wasn’t sure what to think. Clutching Morus tightly, I slowly stood up as Lucien withdrew something from his robe.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Lucien opened his palm and revealed a gold necklace. An onyx charm in the shape of a spider, dangled on a gold encrusted fix. “I want only to give you a gift.”

 

I detected no curse on the necklace, or even an enchantment. “What is it?” I asked, curling a brow.

 

“A token of the Dark Brotherhood’s love.”

 

“So you’re not here to kill me?”

 

Lucien chuckled. “Dear child…if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t be speaking to you. I’d be attaching this necklace to your corpse.”

 

I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m a Mage.”

 

“We were all something else before becoming members of the Dark Brotherhood. I’m offering you nothing more, than a home in times of need. A respite from the world’s angst. The Night Mother welcomes you as one of her own. When the time is right, come to the abandoned house in Cheydinhal. Present that necklace for entry into our inner sanctum.”

 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you…but my alliances lie elsewhere.”

 

“Alliances have nothing to do with a daughter and father reuniting.”

 

A chill trickled down my spine. “My father died years ago…”

 

“In a boating accident?” Said Lucien Lachance with a sinister smirk.

 

“Yes…” I held my breath, resisting the memory of that fateful night. “What are you saying?”

 

“Your father is waiting at our sanctum for you. In fact, he’s been there for years.”

 

“You’re lying…” I said in a near whisper.

 

“Am I?” Asked Lucien. He raised the necklace and on impulse, I stepped forward to take it. Morus was alarmed.

 

“What are you doing Isah? You can’t trust an assassin! He’ll kill you!” Morus was right…but I never told him about my father.

 

“We know of your desires to be an assassin. To kill the God of Death…” Lucien stepped closer, with sunlight glinting off the charm dangling from the necklace he held. “Your father can provide the training required to accomplish this goal. The Mage’s Guild will fail to kill Endar. They do not understand what is required to assassinate the God of Death. Ours is the only way.”

 

I took the necklace, and avidly gazed into the onyx spider. It was indeed the same charm my father gave mom on their wedding day. The spider’s eight eyes were made from unique stones crafted by a jeweler in Morrowind. Lucien stepped back as I rubbed the spider with my thumb and forefinger. His smile dissipated as he turned away, and the assassin faded into the forest with the aid of a cloaking spell…words slipping away in the passing breeze.

 

“Your father is waiting, Isah…”