Shape-Shifter, Chapters 1, 2 and 3

[SoulofChrysamere]

These are the first three chapters to a little Elder Scrolls fanfiction story I began writing about a year ago. I wrote the first two chapters quickly, but took an eternally long time with the third one and even then, it's still short. School and other stuff had made it hard to get into a good writing mood, but now that the summer is here, I'm hoping I can continue my work on this tale and others. Wish me luck, all!

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Chapter 1

 

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Juline Faroume sat at her usual table in her usual restaurant drinking her usual drink: a mug of greef. She leaned back in the chair, slightly drunk and extremely bored. She was a thief - a darn good thief. She’d filched a beautiful silver dagger from the smith, robbed the fine clothier of a fine burgundy silk shirt, whisked away a small bag full of precious gems from the jeweler, and orchestrated quite a few other impressive heists.

 

However, she’d taken most of the valuable things from the shops in the city, and she was tired of waiting for the vendors to restock. She stared into her mug, watching the greef slowly swirl around and try to crawl up the side of it. It was then that something caught her attention.

 

A common tradition of hers was to sit and eavesdrop on other patrons’ conversations. Every once in a while, she heard something interesting. This time, however, she heard the word “treasure” and began listening with all her might.

 

Her ears led her eyes to a pair seated at the bar. Juline listened closely and it was not long before her hawk ears were rewarded. The pair was talking about the Denaren Ancestral Tomb, which Juline knew was just a short walk down the road west of the town. However, as Juline listened on, the two patrons talked of how there was but one guardian of the treasure, something called the shape-shifter.

 

Juline thought it odd that there would only be one guard for a tomb filled with treasure. She questioned the story’s credibility, but she also wanted the treasure that was inside the tomb. She wasn’t a master fighter, but she’d picked up quite a few tricks on how to handle a short sword from the trainers she’d paid with her ill-gotten gold. B’vek, even her blade was stolen. She took it from a fine smith when she was staying in another town. A fine steel short sword with a silver-plated blade. Because of the silver, the blade could harm supernatural creatures as well as normal ones.

 

Juline was also an adept sneaker. During every heist she pulled, she had to sneak by at least two guards. She never got caught, but she’d had some close calls. She had no experience in fighting or evading monsters, but she didn’t think it could be that much different than sneaking by peoples. Besides, if things got too tough for her, she could always just turn back and leave, right?

 

She was uneasy about venturing into the tomb, but she also wanted the treasure inside. She elected to venture into the tomb to seek out the rumored riches that lay inside.

 

After a few days of preparation, she made her way to the tomb. She had all her equipment with her: her silver-plated short sword, her lockpicks and probes, and a healing potion incase she sustained injury. She didn’t wear armor; she preferred to just not be in a sword’s way. During the past few days, she had thought quite a bit about what manner of being this shape-shifter could be. Was he a daedroth? A spirit?

 

She inhaled deeply and opened the door to the tomb. Beyond the door was a long, straight corridor with torches hung on both sides at precise intervals that gave the entire hall an eerie glow. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She was in. Now, where is the treasure?

 

She walked down the corridor and passed through a few rooms, all the while being wary of this shape-shifter. Along the way, she also took care to evade the trip-wires and pressure plates, and also picked the locks on the doors easily. At last, she came to a large door with odd designs carved on it. Once again, she defeated the lock and opened it.

 

As the door opened, a large room came into view. It was empty except for an altar at the back wall with a large chest on it. “Jackpot!” she whispered as she stepped into the room.

 

She walked across the room to the altar and set to work trying to open the chest. She’d brought a bag with her; it seemed easier than trying to lug a chest out of there.

 

She fought with the lock on the chest for a long time. Nothing she tried worked, and after a while she started to wonder if the lock could even be picked with a conventional pick. Finally, she gave up in frustration. It was then that she noticed a key lying on the altar beside the chest.

 

She felt stupid, but she also thought that they were stupid for leaving the key behind. She snatched up the key without thinking, and immediately there was a loud slam behind her and groaning sounds above her.

 

She wheeled around and found that the door had slammed shut. Then, she looked up and saw a wall of spikes descending down upon her. She sprinted for the door and tried to thrust the key into the lock, hoping it worked for the door to.

 

The lock accepted the key and she heaved it open. For a moment, she thought she was free, but then she heard the groaning sounds above her again. She glanced up and once again was met by a wall of spikes coming down. She bolted for the door on the other side of the room, which had also closed. Mercifully, the key fit. She ran back through all the rooms, whose doors all accepted the key. Finally, she was back in the entrance corridor.

 

The ceiling above her began moaning and, not even pausing to look up, Juline ran for the exit. She was up the short staircase in a single leap and thrust the key into the lock.

 

However, the key did not go into the lock, and as Juline looked at it more closely, she saw no longer a key in her hand, but a bar. She began screaming and throwing herself against the door. The door never gave way though, and eventually, the ceiling had come down too far for her to stand.

 

Juline collapsed on the floor, exhausted and awaiting her certain death. Her head lay on its side, staring at the object in her hand, which was once again a key. She was baffled momentarily, but then she had an epiphany of understanding. “Shape-shifter.” she whispered as she clutched the key in her hand and closed her eyes to await the lowering spikes.

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Chapter 2

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The moaning got louder and louder, and then all of a sudden stopped and was replaced by a nauseating creaking noise. Juline opened her eyes and turned her head upwards. She was greeted by a spike so close to her face it looked like a flat disk. She turned her head to the right and saw that somehow, her sword had gotten turned perfectly upwards when she fell and amazingly stood like that for the length of time it took the ceiling to descend that low. That blade was the only thing stopping the spikes from turning her into shish-kabob.

 

With a renewed will to live, she turned until her feet faced the door, taking care not to raise too high. She turned her legs sideways and began kicking. The creaking noise became an ear-splitting grinding noise as her poor silver short sword struggled to hold the ceiling up. At last, the door’s frame gave way and she was able to kick its remains aside and create an opening.

 

Her adrenaline still surging, she slowly inched her body through the crawlspace. At last, she got all the way out. No sooner did her head clear the toothy ceiling that she heard a clang; her sword had finally surrendered.

 

Juline hobbled back towards town, her adrenaline gone and her body drained of energy. Her clothes felt like they weighed a hundred pounds, and her muscles ached from exertion and stress. Her leg muscles’ protests were almost too much for her to bear. Only the knowledge that wild animals would eventually kill her if she stayed out there kept her going. After staggering for what seemed like an eternity along the road, she arrived back at the city.

 

Juline went straight to her house. She shouldered the door open and slammed it behind her. She removed her sweat-soaked clothes, threw on a nightgown, and flopped on her bed. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t fall asleep. She just lay there, sprawled out and her mind racing. She’d almost died, and only survived by the merest chance.

 

“A grand performance. Ha ha ha.”

 

Juline was sitting as straight as an arrow shaft in an instant. She looked this way and that, trying to locate the source of the voice. By the Tribunal, even her own house wasn’t safe anymore.

 

“I haven’t seen a face that terrified in centuries.” continued the disembodied voice as Juline sprang up from the bed and continued to search. “You should have seen it. Priceless.”

 

Finally, her ears sensed the direction from which the voice was coming. She glanced down on the bed, and there it lay. The same key that she’d found in the tomb. Shape-shifter.

 

“No, no. This is impossible.” she babbled as she staggered backward in shock.

 

“Aww, what’s the matter? Haven’t you seen a talking key before?” said Shape-shifter in a mocking tone.

 

Juline, not knowing whether this was real or if she was having a nightmare, turned and walked out of the room. She sat on the divan in the sitting area, distraught and wondering if she was going crazy. Then, everything just seemed to stop. She couldn’t hear anything, the thoughts in her head froze, and a wave of drowsiness swept over her. The next moment, she fell back against the back of the divan and her head slid into the crook where the arm and back met. She was out.

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Chapter 3

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Golden ribbons of light sliced through the slots between the blinds on the windows. One of the beams found its way to Juline’s face, and she stirred for a moment before waking. She tried to stand up, but seized up in mid-rise. She fell back on the couch, wracked with pain in almost every part of her body.

 

Her legs were where it hurt most. It felt like somebody was driving huge screws threw them. Her throbbing arms ran a close second though. She tried to stand again, but found that she could hardly move. Her joints had stiffened; she was one big bag of lactic acid.

 

She sat there for hours, trying to ignore the pain. Sometimes it would recede, but then it would return. Then it would get worse than normal, and then go back. It was a miserable way to spend the morning. At least, she thought it was morning.

 

She was quickly proven wrong when she glanced at the window. No more sunlight was coming through. By the Nine, had she really slept for twenty-four hours?

 

After a while, the pain seemed to die down and she tried once again to stand. Her legs still protested, but she was able to rise up and support herself. She hobbled over toward the washroom where she disrobed and uncovered several buckets of water. One by one, she filled the iron tub with their contents and then took a log from a pile in the corner. She then placed it under the tub. She procured a match from a small box on a little table next to the tub, struck a flame on it, and lit the log.

 

She had a couple minutes while the water was heating up. She moseyed into the bedroom, half expecting to hear more of Shape-Shifter’s mockery. She was not disappointed. Not five seconds after she passed through the doorway did the little pest of a thing pipe up.

 

“Aww...did you have a nice beddy-bye time?” It said.

 

“Stuff it, you...thing.” She replied.

 

“Oh come now. Is that any way to speak to the person who saved your life?”

 

“You saved me? Near as I could tell back there, you tried to get me killed.”

 

“I was only funning with you. Geez, you’re as uptight as the rest of the mortals, aintcha?”

 

“I don’t know what kind of trick you’re trying to pull now, but I’m not falling for it.” She said, pacing the floor.

 

“It’s no trick, darling. You think it was sheer dumb luck that your blade managed to turn perfectly upright when you fell? Ha! Nobody has that kind of luck my dear. Nobody. Well, maybe ol’ Gaenor.”

 

“Gaenor?” Juline asked

 

“Oh never mind him...just some fool of a Bosmer with big lucky streak and an even bigger mouth. Finally got the crap kicked out of him in Mournhold, heard he mouthed off to the Nerevarine himself. Anyway...what I was getting to was that I turned your blade upright.”

 

“What??” Juline said incredulously. “How could you have done that when I had you in my hand?”

 

Shape-Shifter did not answer, but instead morphed into a puddle on the bed. Then, it hurled itself at Juline and wrapped around her, taking on the form of armor with an alien fashion. Then it peeled off and snaked around her back onto the bed where it curled up into a ball. It then proceeded to bounce up and down, changing into a different type of weapon with each ascent. First it became a dagger, then a sword, then an axe, then a mace, then a hammer, and lastly a bow and arrow.

 

“Let’s just say that I’m very flexible, miss.” It finally said.

 

Juline nearly fainted. “What the hell are you?” She muttered inwardly.

 

Shape-Shifter didn’t answer. It just lay there on the bed in the shape of a simple bar, taunting her with its silence.

Edited June 12, 2011 by SoulofChrysamere

[Maharg67]

Very excellent!!! Please continue the story when you are able to do so.

 

Honoury kudos to you.

 

:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

Edited June 12, 2011 by Maharg67