DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
The Court of Madness
HTML https://thecourtofmadnessforums.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: R Rated Stories
*****************************************************
#Post#: 2549--------------------------------------------------
Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell, Chap
ter One
By: Black Hand Date: May 11, 2014, 10:40 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
HTML https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wdACoIoObQQ/U3BCHa99cTI/AAAAAAAADJY/dJ8BYZYf1wo/s1023/MemoirsV1C1.jpg
Foreword
The innocent possess no wisdom.
The criminal knows regret. The heartbroken knows pain. The
soldier knows honor and its price. If you seek life, seek those
with dirtied, calloused hands. If you seek knowledge, seek those
with ink-stained hands and quill-cutters. If you seek wisdom,
seek those in the streets, scarred, bloodied, blind, starved.
Because life is not pain, experience is. It’s possible to have
lived your entire life without knowing a single qualm. At least,
not a real one.
If you seek the words of one who has taken life, and does so
without hesitation, read on.
My name is Sethyas Velas, and in another lifetime, I was the
Nerevarine. That legend has taken on a life of its own, and one
that is quite separate from my own. That is fine by me, as
attention is not something I seek, per se. These words are from
myself, for myself. Perhaps they will find a way from their
leather and parchment places into another’s possession. Perhaps
my next writ will be my last and I leave these behind.
These journals serve as the Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin.
#Post#: 2566--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: McBadgere Date: May 12, 2014, 6:45 am
---------------------------------------------------------
*Shivers*...Ooooh, looking forward to this...Very much...
Awesome intro matey!!!...
Nice one!!!...
*Applauds heartily*
#Post#: 2597--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Elisabeth Hollow Date: May 12, 2014, 4:06 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
YEA!!!
#Post#: 2620--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: May 12, 2014, 6:31 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
It seems as though all the yesterdays between today and the one
that I was sent to the Dunmeri Province of Morrowind are a
diluted and hazy thread that barely connects the profound nature
of the present moment, and the intense recall of my youth.
There begins my story.
For reason unknown to me, I was left in the care of an orphanage
alongside my sister, Setsuna Velas. My twin and closest friend
and only true family I had in this world. We were both Dunmers;
or ‘Dark Elves’ as the Imperial term is in more common usage.
It was my mixed blessing that we were in Cheydinhal County, at
the Brothers of Julianos Order.
Julianos being the God of Wisdom and Logic, we were well
educated despite our station and alien nature to the Province of
Cyrodiil. There we were taught to read and write so that we
could earn our keep with assisting in reproducing manuscripts.
The Brothers also produced a very exclusive wine that was
available seasonally to keep funding coming in, despite taking
vows to imbibe no intoxicants. We learned farming and winemaking
from them to assist with the production and further earn our
keep.
My fellow orphans, however; I learned something quite different
from them. I learned that I was an outsider and a freak.
For whatever reason, in a time before I could remember someone
had seen fit to tattoo a black hand onto my face. Being a Dark
Elf was bad enough; to have such a visage only cemented that
gap.
I learned how to take a hit from them. I learned how fight back
and I learned how to protect my sister, Setsuna.
As my skill in fighting grew, I learned how to take on entire
groups, each lesson was painful, and filled me with anger and
hate. It left me with broken ribs, it left me alone and unable
to even so much as crawl back to the Temple of Julianos.
What it never did, was keep me down forever. It toughened me up,
yes, but not for the purpose of thinking I was better then
everyone. Rather, for protecting her.
Setsuna was the only family I had. The person I was closest to,
my twin, my friend. Had she not been there, perhaps I would
never have had a reason to keep trying. I may have given up..
In a stark contrast to myself, she actually had friends. Not
many, but more than I had. She even had a couple of admirers
among the boys. They were the ones that were a bit worse to her,
trying to get her attention, but having no idea how to do it
correctly. An upset glance from me however usually sent them on
their way.
As time passed and we grew into adulthood, we were sent on our
way, and we would soon learn those without a trade, family or
even a past found it hard to make their way into the world. We
were far too old to become apprentices, and most folk didn’t
take kindly to Dark Elves: too foreign; too unsettling in
appearance.
As such, we took odd jobs that we could find. Farmhands in the
harvest season, caravaners in the off-season. It worked well
with a dream that as siblings we shared, to see the world around
us.
One of the brothers in the Temple had told me that he heard that
I was an oddity, amongst a pair of oddities. The people who had
entrusted us to his care said that we were both born on the same
evening in the twelfth of Morning Star in year 399 Third Era,
under the sign of The Ritual.
Setsuna was born first, and then I came technically making me
the youngest. However, I did not draw breath right away. No, I
did not draw it until the constellation of The Serpent had taken
dominance in the sky, forever marking me as different.
I had asked him what that meant, and he replied with a raised
eyebrow and a grim look.
He quoted from a book called ‘The Firmament’.
“The Serpent wanders about in the sky and has no Season, though
its motions are predictable to a degree. No characteristics are
common to all who are born under the sign of the Serpent. Those
born under this sign are the most blessed and the most cursed.”
He said he had an old, crazy Uncle who was the adventuring type
who was born under the sign. If I were anything like him, then
my luck for survival would be astonishing at times. Our signs
tended to be wanderers; never making root any one place for
long. They loved the deepest, and lived the longest.
At the time, I had no idea how accurate his words would prove to
be, and indeed how much of a blessing and curse living and love
could be.
#Post#: 2627--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Callidus Thorn Date: May 13, 2014, 4:54 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Woah.
Ok, I'm hooked. :)
#Post#: 2630--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: May 13, 2014, 6:55 am
---------------------------------------------------------
During one of our travels; I can scarce recall the year, I
believe we were both in our early twenties; my first time in
taking life came to me.
It took the form of a much older, drunken adventurer and his
cohorts that we’d had the displeasure of sharing some ramshackle
Inn with. I believe it was in the south of Cyrodiil, near County
Bravil, perhaps Leyawiin.
The lot had just come from some dungeon delving. I just had
never developed the taste for it ever since a mishap when I
entered some Ayleid ruins, when I was ten or eleven on a dare. I
was fortunate to leave alive.
They cast lurid glances at Setsuna and made many offensive jokes
as to our race. I took it in stride as I always had. When they
laid hands on her, however, that was when I took to my feet. The
Imperial man had many days of unshaven stubble and a glaze in
his eyes that the ale on his breath confirming it’s source.
Normally staring these men down got them to calm down. He took
it as a challenge.
I let him land the first blow. As though it might protect me
under some idea of judicial fairness. I smiled as I rolled with
the blow, and came back with one of my own. I was smart enough
to hold back after he spilled his guts and his friends said that
he’d had enough.
No, I did not kill him then.
I killed him late the next morning when we’d paid our tab and
set about our travel to the next settlement over, and they
passed us on the trail. I saw the intent and the shame in his
eyes as they rode past on their horses.
They stopped as I fully expected them to, and to his credit,
only the older Imperial dismounted to come settle his score with
me. Setsuna whispered that we should run. I told her that we’d
be running forever and that they were in a better position to
overcome us. We needed to settle it here and now.
His eyes did not waver as he came to pick a fight.
“I want you to get the hell outta my province you filthy
Ashborn! You hear me?” He said in a sinister whisper as he came
in to shove me.
A belt knife is a common tool that many carry. It’s for cutting
bread and cheese mainly, and not very sharp unless maintained.
Even people visiting nobility and the like are not disarmed of
this very common and practical tool.
My hands did not shake in those next few seconds. The belt knife
unsheathing, the entry into his lower gut, and me putting all my
force into raising it higher up his abdomen.
…and just behind the rear intestinal wall is the Vena Cava, the
largest artery in the mortal body, known to exist within all
races of men and mer, as well as the beast races of Khajiit,
Orcs, and Argonians. An old anatomy lesson was the only thing
that buzzed through my head as I guided the blade towards it
with all my might.
The blood spurted out thick and nearly black. I’d certainly
performed an arterial wound, he’d be dead in seconds rather than
days from the septic shock. Even as I let go of the knife, he
fell to his knees the world apparently spinning around him.
My eyes simply rose to his horse and companions. We had no
weapons aside from our belt knives, yet I still awaited their
reprisal. They had leather jerkins, and armaments that spoke of
experience and use.
They simply turned their horses and rode off.
I turned to Setsuna whose eyes were wide with shock over what
I’d just done. From that moment forward she would always see me
in a different light. Not as though as she were afraid of me;
she knew why I had done it. I had done it to protect her.
Rather, it was the first moment that my actions had truly added
the first degree of separation from our twin sibling experience.
Slight at first, within the leagues and years to come it would
be the breadth of continents in the gap that now existed between
us.
I was not changed in that moment. Rather, I was awake for the
first time to this…talent, I possess. I can take life with a
steady hand.
The man whose life now lay in a still pool around him granted me
the spoils of his demise. Forty-two gold coin, traveling boots,
a steel shortsword, and rusty iron bow with a quiver of twelve
arrows.
The horse we rode and sold off at the next town.
Yes, in those moments I was awake.
#Post#: 2674--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: May 13, 2014, 10:16 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Despite awakening to the talent, I fell asleep in other ways. I
was blinded with all my frustrations against the world I knew so
little of then. Somehow believing in a concept that I had no
words for at the time. The concept that all my so-called
suffering somehow entitled me to take from others what had been
taken from me for so long. Gold, respect, and life.
Banditry is an easy path. Despite the gallows that serves as
warning to those who would dare break the Emperor’s law and
guarantee of safety in his own province, there are ten other
lowlives who gladly take the place of each one hung. Most band
together for protection, and organize to some degree. Until they
either face off against some lone adventurer who’s forgotten
more about swordplay then the curds could ever learn, or they
face a more organized, and more heavily armed set of guards.
I stayed as a lone bandit. Never acting without a certain degree
of assurance that my mark was worth the trouble, and that I was
never stepping on any other’s toes. At least not toes small
enough to notice me. Through our travels and the knowledge I’d
gained, I could easily take off a night here and there to cut
some minor noble’s throat and waste half of it on booze and
throw the rest at Setsuna in some way.
Our silences grew longer and longer, and my gap with her became
wider and wider. I was arrogant in my belief that I could never
be caught, that I was far too careful, that I had honed my
skills of hiding myself from my quarry to some sort of razor
edge. In reality, I was just more lost than I’d ever been.
Finally, upon once such a hunt the odds caught up with me. I’d
normally stuck too travelers on horseback, traveling in pairs of
no more than two or three. A single arrow sticking out of the
back of one comrade was more than enough to send the others on
their way in haste.
This time, it was a carriage. I had never attempted such a
daring act, for this was more than a simple noble that owned a
few farms. This was aristocracy in its minimum. All my successes
had made me drunk on the belief that I could repeat them, here
and now.
I saw the carriage had a single wheel that was out of time with
the other three. A loose peg, or some metal strut the nicer ones
had, it mattered little as all it needed was that extra push.
I’d become decent with the bow. By no means a master marksman, I
could still hit a small target at a reasonable distance, and I
would need to be in close for this robbery. I took my place,
setting up the scenario seeing but a single carriage driver in
front, and unknown amount of persons inside…I hoped the sight of
a dead driver would be enough to put them into a state that made
me easy money.
The bow creaked as I pulled back and breathed in…I could see the
wheel now, and it was indeed the peg. Even in the dim light of
Masser and Secunda I could make out my trajectory. Enough trial
and error had taught me the most basic techniques I needed to
make the shot.
With a crack, the arrow lodged itself into the splitting peg and
the carriage came to a chaotic halt. The horses in front reared
and neighed in terror, and the driver was thrown clear to the
roadside nearest me. The carriage managed to stay somewhat level
despite the force that it had been subjected to.
I walked forward with neither haste nor reserve. I took my time
as I slung the bow over my shoulder, and unsheathed my first
claimed prize from a dead body, my steel shortblade. I grabbed
the dazed carriage driver, and placed one of the double-edges at
his throat.
“This is what happens next, if you don’t give me your
valuables.” I spoke to the carriages occupants, clearly showing
them my spectacle. I drew the blade across his throat as he gave
a wheezing scream and I let him fall to the dirt that I’d sent
him too.
At that moment, I heard something I should have before, but
overlooked as my greed had claimed my senses. More horses.
Armored men. Heavily armed. I looked at the carriage again, then
saw the markings that were branded into the side.
Imperial Census and Excise. The taxmen.
The door to the carriage quite literally exploded out, and
another armored figure joined the approaching clatter of metal
and men.
This one was a little different, as he wore a hood typical of
Magefolk to top his attire. A battlemage. I bloody hate
battlemages.
“Murder of an Imperial servant, attempted robbery of an Imperial
Excise shipment, and…banditry. All of these are of course
punishable by death. But, I do like it when they run…” The
battlemage intoned with interest, preparing a fireball with his
offhand and gripping his mace tighter.
We finish it, here and now. Running is useless. I thought, and
prepared to die.
I rushed towards him, and he casted his magickal fire. It
wrapped around me and dissipated with nearly no effect. Part of
the advantage of being Dunmer, is that we are nearly
invulnerable to fire. To cast such a basic spell against us is
like pissing into the wind. His expectation was met with the
cold reality of my steel clanging with his, and as he recovered
his stance, I harried him with jabs and feints refusing to allow
him the advantage of a single moment of concentration that could
prepare some other element that I was vulnerable to.
In this hand-to-hand combat, he expected to have the upper hand
against a common bandit, but once more, his ignorance of my race
claimed his presumed superiority. The inherent bond that Dunmer
have with their Ancestors also gives us a helping hand from some
invisible realm, and we just seem to dodge the surest blows with
ease for a short while. The rough translation; as I would learn
years later, from Dunmeris is “Ancestor Guardian”.
Finally, the paces between the rear guard and us were closed,
and the Battlemages eyes twitched involuntarily to his saviors.
His hope was his end.
Without seeing it coming, I brought the point of my sword to his
throat and let go through as deep as I could make it. I may be
sent to Dagon’s realm this night, but I wasn’t going alone.
The troops approached the scene of my crime, and only one man
dismounted. The hilt of his blade is what truly drew my notice.
It was longer and thinner than a typical Imperial or ‘western’
sword. I think I’d seen it’s kind in the occasional traveler
through the orphanage…’katanas’ I think they were called.
“Well now. You stopped a carriage and killed it’s driver and
battlemage guard in the time it took us to round the bend,
alone. Impressive.” The man nodded in admiration.
His eyes looked me up and down, and he suddenly had a glint of
something. Recognition.
“But, I’d have expected better things of you.” He slowly
approached me.
“Do you know me, sir?” I asked as I raised my blade.
“Know you? Hard to forget a face like yours, Sethyas.” He said,
sending me off-center.
Seeing his advantage he had me disarmed and struck a series of
blows in some quick, organized moves I’d never seen, that
rendered me slowly into unconsciousness.
My last memory was him asking me if I had anything to declare
prior to my arrest.
“I----hate….Battlemages.” I muttered out.
#Post#: 2808--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: McBadgere Date: May 16, 2014, 11:00 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Brilliant stuff matey...
Thoroughly loved going through this...
Nice one!!...
*Applauds heartily*...
#Post#: 3196--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: May 26, 2014, 6:14 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
I found myself in a dream. Distant images of an alien land
flitted around me. Red, angry clouds rolled past thorned plants
and stone cairns. The smell of sulfur was strong, and my eyes
watered in its harshness. The clouds began to claim everything I
could see. It was then I realized it was not clouds, but ash.
Billowing red and black smoke, like from a smith’s busy furnace.
Letters began to appear, I should be able to recognize them, but
I cannot. From this a voice began to speak. I instantly sense
that the voice is for me.
”They have taken you from the Imperial City’s prison; first by
carriage, and now by boat, to the east: to Morrowind. Fear not,
for I am watchful. You, have been chosen.”
From the daedric sigils that appeared, a single line fell into
my ability to understand.
Many fall, but one remains.
Thunder breaks everything I’ve seen, and the dream changes. I
see the same plants and stone cairns from before, but the skies
are clear now. The constellation of the Serpent is prominent in
the stars.
“Wake up.” A voice called to me.
“We’re here. Why are you shaking? Are you okay?” It says again,
and the final image of the moons reflecting on water being
broken by starting rain is let go by my mind, and my attention
refocused on reality.
“Stand up, there you go. You were dreaming….what’s your name?”
said a pair of red eyes.
“Sethyas.” I replied.
“Jiub.” The strange Dunmer told me.
“Well, not even last night’s storm could wake you. I heard them
say we’ve reached Morrowind. I’m sure they’ll let us go.” He
said, just as some heavy footfall came from above us, he moved
his head and gaze to the ceiling with a certain fearfulness.
“Quiet! Here comes the guard.” He whispered, and I saw that we
were in a cell together. The creaking of the ship and the splash
of waves slapping the hull of the ship confirmed my assumption
that we were at sea.
How long had I been out? A day, a week? I could not feel the
time that had passed from my last conscious memory. By now the
footfalls had delivered their source, a stocky Imperial man in
leather Legion armor. He pulled out a ring of keys, and clicked
the door open.
“Not you, just him.” The guard said pointing to me.
Jiub looked somewhat defeated at this, but motioned with his
head for me to go. His eyes seemed to tell me that I should do
what he said. I walked forward with just a bit of a wobble as I
had no sea legs, and I’d just woken from a sleep that could have
been for days for all I knew. I regained my balance slowly as
the world really was rocking around me, and I was a pace or two
behind the guard who seemed to be more annoyed at my release
than my speed.
As we reached the second tier of the ship, he stood next to a
set of stairs and handled his blade’s hilt menacingly and tried
to burn me with his stare.
“This is it. The end of the line. Get yourself up on deck, and
let’s keep this as civil as possible.” He intoned.
Through all the events that had led me here finally came back to
me. I was being held on a double murder, and attempting to steal
a tax shipment on top of it all. It seemed strange that they
would take me all the way to the Empire’s easternmost province
to try me. Even then, as I’d killed Imperial soldiers, it was
even more strange that I’d survived this long.
The dream….that voice told me where I was even before I was
awake… I thought to myself as I looked down at my chains and
bracers. These type were the ones that were enchanted with an
effect that drained magicka, making casting spells impossible.
Unless I just overheard it and remembered it in the dream. It
was becoming surreal to the point that this must be the dream.
“Well, confused? We’re all waiting.” A female Imperial officer
called from a shadowy corner of the ship.
“Forgive me if I’m not so keen to rush to my execution.” I
replied, my voice raspier than usual, making me aware of my
thirst.
“You deserve no less either, murderer.” She leaned forward, and
brought her steel-blue eyes to meet mine.
“However, your luck is simply a once-in-an-age story. You are
not here to stand trial, you've been released. By who, or for
what reason I have no idea…now…get the hell off of my ship.” She
commanded, leaning back into her chair and pulling the darkness
back over her visage.
She didn't need to tell me twice. I plodded up the stairs, and
my escort knocked on the ship’s hull, and daylight flooded into
the musty, humid ship and the clear smell of the waters salt
made me smell what must be freedom for the first time in memory.
A Redguard soldier stood at attention on deck and gave me a look
that seemed to wonder what all my fuss was about. He shook his
head and laughed to himself.
HTML https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sCz5qSsLIAY/U4UWhgBirvI/AAAAAAAADKk/6nOp_uVQfN4/s128/Reboot1.jpg
HTML https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sCz5qSsLIAY/U4UWhgBirvI/AAAAAAAADKk/6nOp_uVQfN4/s800/Reboot1.jpg
“This is where they want you. Head down to the Census office,
and they’ll finish your release.” He nodded toward the plank
that met with the dock and a trio of local soldiers stood at
attention equally intrigued by my arrival.
Yet, the sight of my impending freedom wasn’t what caught my
attention. It was the giant insect that towered over the small
fishing village of Seyda Neen. As I’d later learn, they were
called ‘Silt Striders’ and that’s exactly what they were: giant
insects that the local Dunmer had domesticated into their main
mode of transport on the Isle and District of Vvardenfel.
The dream kept getting stranger with each passing moment…
HTML https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sCz5qSsLIAY/U4UWhgBirvI/AAAAAAAADKk/6nOp_uVQfN4/s128/Reboot1.jpg
HTML https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0Jgswt7Qudo/U4UWh4Ka69I/AAAAAAAADKo/jY17_1obJGo/s1188/Reboot2.jpg
#Post#: 3209--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Colonel Mustard Date: May 27, 2014, 6:29 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Yay, Sethyas!
This is bringing back memories from years ago, and I'm enjoying
the reread of this once more. You've already done a great job of
establishing his character, and in the latest chapter of showing
his sense of confusion and disorientation at arriving in
Vvardenfel was well handled.
It's good to see this back again, and I'm looking forward to
re-reading it once more :)
*****************************************************
DIR Next Page