The Unlikely Incarnate

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The Unlikely Incarnate; The Tale of Iocus Magna
Topic Started: Apr 4 2009, 03:43 PM (334 Views)
The Bean	May 7 2009, 04:07 AM Post #21
Forum Kommisar Posts: 1,000 Group: Member Member #503 Joined: February 10, 2009	And some more. I'll try and be more regular in my updating in future. Chapter 5-Disguises After Caius had given me the vague instruction of 'Get a job' I was left feeling slightly in the dark. However, I had been sent on a mission to find employment, and so I popped into the local bookshop and picked up a book entitled 'A Guide to Vvardenfel.' After half an hour of reading in one of the bookshop's comfortable seats, I learned a few things about Vvardenfel. The entire island was ruled by three great houses, which anybody could join, as well as a few other guilds and organisations for somebody to join. There were fighters and mages guild branches here, but I immediately struck them off the list of places to go-I wasn't any good with a sword and magic had always been a closed book to me. That left the Great Houses. House Redoran was immediately taken out of the equation for the same reasons as the fighters guild (I was neither honourable nor a warrior), and House Telvanni for the same reason as the mages guild. So that left House Hlaalu, described in the book as 'a house of merchants and salesman.' Seeing as all books like this would put a rosy tint on everything it spoke of, I mentally rewrote that with a description of 'a house of crooks and bent businessmen.' If that was the case then I would be right at home. I discovered that House Hlaalu's headquarters were situated right here in Balmora, and so after asking a few directions I found myself standing outside the largest building in the town. I pushed the door open to find myself in a large atrium, a spacious room with several desks and tables scattered around the edge. A dunmer woman, wearing an expression of disdain for the world in general, noticed my arrival and hurried up to me in the way all impatient people in authority do. “What do you want?” she asked rather sharply. “I was hoping to join the House Hlaalu,” I said, deciding to adopt a tone of voice suited to somebody who desperately needed some work in order to kindle some sympathy (which was true, in some respects). “Oh really?” the woman asked. “If that's the case then speak to Nileno Dorvayn. She's over there.” She pointed at another dunmer woman, this time wearing the robes of some important official. I hurried over to her, and said; “Madam Dorvayn? I was told to come to you if I wanted to join the house.” “You were told correctly,” Nileno Dorvayn said. “So, you want to join our house, then?” I nodded. “Very well then,” she said. She grabbed a piece of paper from a desk next to her and a quill. “Your name?” “Iocus Magna,” I replied. “Good, good. Trade?” “Looking for employment.” I gave her a slightly pointed look to emphasise this. “Any current address?” she asked. This gave me some pause for thought, before I said; “I'm renting rooms at the South Wall Cornerclub.” I really, really hoped they had rooms to rent. “Very good,” Nileno said. “Everything seems to be in order.” “I'm glad to hear,” I said. “I'm willing to get to work whenever you want me to.” “Really?” the dunmer woman said. “Could you say that again?” “What?” I asked, somewhat put out. “I'm willing to work whenever you want me to?” “Yes,” Nileno said. “But can you make it more dunmerish? You know, a bit raspy.” “I'm willling to work whenever, you want me to” I said, still feeling a bit put out. “That's perfect,” Nileno said. “Is it?” I said. “What for?” In answer, Nileno took a helmet, made of some strange amber coloured material, and shoved it into my hands. “Try this on,” she ordered. Still baffled, I slid the helmet on. “Perfect fit,” I announced, my voice rather muffled by the thick visor on the helmet. “Now can you please tell me what this is for.” “Yes, yes of course,” she said. “The thing is that you sound just like Felsen Sethandus.” “Who?” I asked. “Felsen Sethandus,” Nileno said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He's one of House Redoran's warriors. He was wounded in a battle and so wears a helmet just like that one to cover the scars on his face.” “So you want me to pretend to be Felsen?” I said. “And do what?” “Go to the town of Ald Ruhn,” Nileno said. “I want you to go the Ald Skar there, that's the giant crab shell in the middle of town, you can't miss it, and speak to Neminda there. Tell her that you're an orphan of Arnesia and she aught to give you some instructions to deliver to somebody. Simply take them back to me and then I can give you your pay.” “I see,” I said. It sounded simple enough. After I left the council hall, I decided that it would look rather odd if I marched into this Ald Skar place wearing just a helmet, and so I decided to invest in a full suit of armour. After all, Caius had told me to get some more equipment. After an hour's searching, a good deal of paying up and some arm twisting of the smith in the Fighter's Guild building, I eventually managed to procure myself a full suit of bonemold armour. Feeling that it was a good a time as any to go, I took the silt strider to the town of Ald Ruhn. It was a damn lucky thing I took my helmet off quickly once I was aboard the silt strider. # I arrived in Ald Ruhn in the middle of an ash storm and with a plan. While I waited out the stinging hail of ash in a local tavern, I went over it again, just to be sure. I wouldn't enter the building like any old warrior would, loud, proud and full of myself, but more like somebody who had some discreet business and didn't want to be noticed. Of course, I was good at not being noticed, but I guessed logically that as Felsen was a warrior, and therefore somebody most likely to be inclined towards the loud and proud spectrum of society, he was logically not very good at being inconspicuous (the secret, of course, was not to try). So, trying my best to be inconspicuous, and being conspicuous at the same time, I would enter the building and get the papers from Neminda, convincing her I was Felsen with my best dunmer voice. Child's play compared to some of the things I had done in my time. As soon as the ash storm had blown itself out, I hurried from the tavern, slid my helmet on and entered the massive shell that dominated one half of the town (Nileno was right, you couldn't miss it). After I crossed a complex series of rope bridges that spanned the cavernous shell, wandering all the time what the hell could be so big to fit in here, (unless it was a very territorial hermit crab) and reached the three joint doors that led into what I guessed were the main rooms of House Redoran's administrative centres. I looked for any likely candidates for a Neminda, and guessed that, as Neminda was a redguard name, Neminada would most likely be the redguard woman sitting at a desk. “Greetings Neminda,” I called, adopting my best dunmer voice. I looked furtive before continuing. “Any work for an orphan of Arnesia?” The redguard woman looked up as she heard me, and smiled broadly. “Ah, Felsen,” she said. She grabbed a sheaf of papers from within her desk, bound together by a piece of string, and handed them to me. “Deliver these to the usual place in Vivec.” “Very well then,” I said, before inclining my head and leaving. As I reached the door, another man dressed in the same armour as me walked up to Neminda and said; “Neminda, do you have any work for an orphan of Arnesia?” I legged it.



cathym	May 7 2009, 06:04 AM Post #22
Botanist Posts: 398 Group: Member Member #473 Joined: November 18, 2008	Very good. You have a naturally dry humour that I find enjoyable. This line "It was a damn lucky thing I took my helmet off quickly once I was aboard the silt strider." made me truly laugh out loud. And of course the real Falsen turning up and "I legged it" was nearly as good! You're obvioulsy having a lot of fun with this. Which makes it fun to read.



The Bean	May 8 2009, 08:35 AM Post #23
Forum Kommisar Posts: 1,000 Group: Member Member #503 Joined: February 10, 2009	Well I am enjoying writing this, and Iocus has already secured a place as one of my favourite characters! Thanks for the praise Cathym. More shall be coming soon.



BurntBiscuits	May 11 2009, 06:28 PM Post #24
The Crimson Biscuit Posts: 34 Group: Member Member #530 Joined: May 9, 2009	I really like this, you've done a great job. I'm not too sure where it stands compared to Grey Knight, its definatly much less action based which I acually prefer. Its written in my kind of style too, lining the plotline with jokes and witty comments. The story itself is very interesting and while I havn't read any Neravivene (sp) fan-fics, this is looking rather good.
	Yes, I am a biscuit. Who is eternally burnt. And who drinks blood. So? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I would have been your daddy, but the dog beat me over the fence."


The Bean	May 13 2009, 01:54 PM Post #25
Forum Kommisar Posts: 1,000 Group: Member Member #503 Joined: February 10, 2009	It's 'Nerevarine,' old chap. Anyway, glad you like it. I wanted to take a different approach to the other Nerevarine stories knocking around here and I thought that having a self serving coward as a protagonist would be a nice change. And here's some more! Chapter 6-Quan I like to think that I was good at getting out of town fast. I've done it enough times-after all, even with the best planning a scam can go pear shaped and it's necessary to get going very fast. I managed to get out of town before anybody could raise the alarm, but I was confident that I could go back there safely. After all, just about every guard in the town wore that same armour and nobody had seen my face. I had even fooled Neminda into thinking I was dark elf and so nobody would be on the lookout for an Imperial. I decided to give the Silt Strider a miss, due to my need to keep going quickly and instead elected to walk to Balmora. I've now decided it was the luckiest decision I've ever made. After about half an hour's walk, I was beginning to get hot. The sun had still baked scrubby ground around me dry (the silt strider driver had referred to this region as the Ashlands) and as evening came on all of it began to vent out of the earth. Being in a full suit of armour didn't help. I had already had the common sense to invest in a skin for water, and so I sat down to grab a quick drink, which was when I heard the scream. It didn't sound like a scream of panic or fear, or any sound made a person who was afraid, more like something someone would yell to intimidate somebody. I could vaguely make out words, though I couldn't decipher exactly what was being said. I immediately leapt to my feet, grabbed my sabre and without fear headed towards the commotion to investigate it. At least, if I had been a hero I would have done. Instead I stuck my hand on the hilt of my sword and sidled nervously towards the source of the noise. After I rounded a rocky outcrop, I discovered what it was. It was a fight, between a group of six, and then five, as their opponent decapitated one of them, brigands and a single man who was quite possibly the most outlandish individual I had ever seen. His armour was segmented, made up of squares of metal held together by wire, somewhat similar to what the legion soldiers wore, but the armour on his arms and legs was more unusual, corrugated strips of blackened metal, with pointed joints at the knees and elbow. He wore a wide brimmed conical straw hat and wielded a large, two handed katana. He fought with a deadly, brutal grace that allowed his opponents no time for any real manouvre, his katana sweeping aside any attacks they made with terrifying speed. It was easy to see that the bandits were wary of him-they hung back from him and his katana, trying to circle around him. Though while he was obviously a far superior fighter, the brigands had the advantage of numbers and were trying to get behind his back, where with luck they could plant a sword between his ribs. I'm not exactly sure what motivated me to help him, but before I was really knew what was happening I had unsheathed my sabre and charged straight into one of the bandits. The man hadn't really been expecting it, so focused was he on dealing with his unusual enemy, so my full body weight, increased by both my armour and the fact I had been doing hard labour in the Imperial Prison, crashed into him with little resistance. It was enough to send him sprawling into two of his compatriots, and allowing the mysterious man to slam his katana into the chest of another, burying his sword right up to the hilt. I felt a mace slam a glancing blow into the back of my head, but thanks to the protection provided by my borrowed helmet I simply stumbled forward instead of having my brain smashed in, stunned and dizzied nonetheless. I felt something warm speckle the back of my neck and turned in time to see the brigand's headless corpse collapse to the ground, blood still spraying from the stump of his neck. The remaining two brigands scrambled to their feet and fled, me seeing them off with a triumphant cry of; “And don't come back!” “Right,” I continued, removing my helmet to get a better look at this strange man and trying to stop my vision blurring. “That's them dealt with. I guess some introduction is in order.” I stuck a friendly hand out. “Iocus Magna.” The other man just inclined his head. “Quan,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you,” I said. “Might I ask where you are going?” “Balmora,” the man called Quan said. “Really,” I said, pleasantly surprised. “So am I. Perhaps I could accompany you?” Quan nodded. “If you wish,” he replied. He was obviously a man of few words. # After a few more hours of walking, Quan and I reached Balmora. It had begun to get dark and quite humid, and the crickets, or whatever the local equivalent was, had already begun their evening chorus. “So, Quan,” I said. “Where are you headed now?” “I need to speak to a man called Caius Cosades,” Quan replied. “Really?” I asked, wandering if he was a Blade's agent as well. “Yes,” Quan replied bluntly. We went our separate ways-me to deliver my package to Nileno and Quan to report to Caius. As soon as I entered House Hlaalu's headquarters after a short walk through the streets, Nileno saw me and asked; “Do you have the orders?” “Right here,” I announced triumphantly, taking the sheaf of paper and handing it to the dark elf woman. She flicked through them for a moment. “Very good, Mister Magna,” she said. “Very good indeed. Were there any problems?” “Felsen Sethandus asked for those same orders only a minute after I got them,” I said. “But I got out of town before anybody could stop me and nobody saw my face.” “Good, good,” Nileno said. “Here's your pay, a thousand septims, and I ought to have some more work for you by tomorrow.” A thousand septims! I was being paid that just to get some papers? It seemed ludicrous, too good to be true, but the happy thing was that it was true and with luck I would be paid similar sums to other pieces of work like this one. I left House Hlaalu's manor feeling elated with joy. I decided to head over to the South Wall Cornerclub to see if I actually could rent a room. Fortunately, it turned out I could, and at a pretty reasonable price, and so after grabbing a cup of Bacola's finest wine and a meal of some kind of odd meat called scrib jerky, I headed to my rented room and turned in with a feeling that, all in all, it hadn't been a bad day.



The Bean	May 23 2009, 04:48 AM Post #26
Forum Kommisar Posts: 1,000 Group: Member Member #503 Joined: February 10, 2009	Chapter 7-Vivec While I slept, I found myself in the strangest place. It was a building of some sort, a huge church or cathedral. There was a gathering of people there, a mix of all sorts. There were elves, orcs, beast folk and men, all gathered together around something. The entire place seemed to have a feeling of importance, and I guess that perhaps it was a wedding of some sort, or perhaps a funeral. I made my way through the crowd, who gave me vague, blank smiles as I passed, before seeing what they were gathering around. It was me, lying in state on a slab or altar of some sort, wearing strange silver armour and with an ornate rapier by my side. It was when the figure opened his eyes, making me jump back in shock, that I woke up. For a minute I was disorientated, in an unfamiliar place, before I realised that I was in one of the rooms at the South Wall Cornerclub. I realised that I probably wasn't going to get any more sleep after that bizarre dream and got up, strapping on my newly acquired armour. Still feeling slightly awkward in it, I left my room and entered the bar, where Bacola Clocius was already up, polishing a glass. “Aha,” he said as he saw me. “Mr Magna. How are you on this fine morning?” “Hungry,” I said. “Got anything for breakfast?” “Of course I do,” Bacola replied, as if he was offended by the concept of not having any food. “How do rolls with guar bacon sound?” I had no idea what a guar was at the time, but after breakfast I concluded that you could make some damn fine bacon out of them. I left the hotel in high spirits, and decided to head over to the Hlaalu manor to see if there was any work I could get from Nileno. There was, after all, no better way to impress your boss than turning up to work early. After a short and pleasant walk through Balmora in the cool morning air, I reached the manor house and entered. Nileno was also up early, sorting through various forms on her desk. “Ah, Mr Magna,” she said as I opened the door. “I see you're ready for more work.” “That's right,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to be of service?” “As a matter of fact, there is,” Nileno said. “There is an alchemist who once served House Hlaalu, Aurane Frernis, but she has defected from the house and works for herself.” I began to hope fervently that this wasn't going to be a revenge killing or something of the sort. I may have been a criminal, yes, but I was no murderer. “She was one of the house's best alchemists and she wrote a scroll with her recipes on it,” Nileno said. “I want you to retrieve it.” “Alright then,” I said. Well, theft was at least marginally better than out and out murder. “Where can I find her?” “Travel to Vivec,” Nileno said. “She has a room in the foreign quarter's underworks.” “So all I need to is get the scrolls, then?” I asked. “That's right,” Nileno confirmed. “Preferably without using lethal force.” I left the building and hurried to the silt strider platform. Once I was aboard and asked to be taken to Vivec, I was pleased to note that I wasn't strider sick. Well, not that strider sick. # After two hours on the silt strider, I finally arrived at the city of Vivec. It was not what I had expected, not in the slightest. At first glanced, it appeared to be a flotilla of massive ships, rising out of the water, before I realised with some surprise that they were made of stone, not wood. They bustled with life, dozens of people crowding each one of the massive structures. I stared at it with an expression of awe and amazement. “You've never been to Vivec before, have you?” my driver, a grizzled old dunmer, asked. I shook my head. “No, I didn't think so. Always has that effect on newcomers.” After I paid my fare and got off the massive insect, before crossing a wide stone bridge into the city. I wandered around it for almost an hour, both sightseeing and being hopelessly lost, before a kindly passerby directed me to the Foreign Quarter. This part of town seemed to slightly neglected, less clean than the rest of the city. True, it was still neat, but it seemed less care for and almost like it was slightly unwanted. A group of argonians were lounging around one edge of the courtyard in the centre of the massive stone building, but I passed them by and ignored them-there was one of the golden armoured guards, an ordinator, keeping his eye on them. Even far away in Cyrodiil I'd heard a fair few things about the ordinators, Morrowind's elite soldiers, and I reckoned that while he was around the argonians wouldn't try anything. Eventually I found what I was looking for, a door with the words 'Aurane Frernis' on a plank nailed to it. I knocked on the door and a voice called; “Come in!” This was it then. I needed to get the scrolls and to that I needed to do one of things I did best-use people skills. The door was opened by a pleasant looking Imperial girl, presumably Aurane Frernis. “Are you here to pick up a potion?” she asked in a pleasant voice as she let me into her humble one room house. “In a way,” I said. This was it now-people skills time. “It was actually about some recipes for potions.” She gave me a stern look. “House Hlaalu sent you, didn't they?” she said. “Well you can tell them they can't have them.” “No, no, they didn't,” I said, putting on my very best concerned voice. “Oh pull the other one,” Aurane said. “It's got bells on.” “I'm serious!” I exclaimed, before leaning forward conspiratorially. “This is extremely important.” “What is it then?” she asked, skepticism still heavy on her voice. “And this had better be good.” “Right,” I said. “I am with House Hlaalu, I admit it, but I'm not doing their work.” I had balanced the tone of urgency and fear just right-I had her fooled. “They want you dead,” I said. “Revenge for leaving them, and they want the potion recipes. If I can get them the potion recipes, I might be able to convince them to leave you alone.” “Is this true?” Aurane asked. I nodded. “So why do you want to help me?” she asked. “If you serve House Hlaalu, why would you care if I died?” Now came the part I had been carefully formulating. It was calculated risk and could go either way. If I got a fact wrong then it would completely blow my cover, but if I got it right then it would get the recipes right into my hands. “Once, years ago, my brother was sick,” I said by way of explanation. “My family was desperate for a cure, and I went to you to get a healing potion. You probably wouldn't remember me, it was years ago after all, back when you were working for Hlaalu. But almost as soon as I gave my brother that potion he recovered, almost immediately. I swore that one day I would repay you whatever way I could; the gold I gave you didn't seem anywhere near enough; and if I can save your life, just like the way you saved my brother's, then it would be the most fitting thing to do.” I will admit that I had spun some pretty impressive lies in my time, but this had to be one of the very best I'd ever made up and performed. I'd gotten the voice and the body language just perfect, the tone of concern and long held gratitude just right. I had her completely fooled. “Alright then,” she said, before picking up a large scroll and placing it into my hands. “You're a good man, sir.” That just showed how little she knew about me, but I didn't mind. After I left, assuring Aurane that I would do all that was in my power to make sure she was alright, I allowed myself a grin of satisfaction. I was damn good.



cathym	May 24 2009, 04:51 AM Post #27
Botanist Posts: 398 Group: Member Member #473 Joined: November 18, 2008	Just to let you know I'm still following this and enjoying it. Really not much to say. I do note that while it retains a lightness of tone, there seems to be a bit less regular outright humour than at the start...



Dark Slinkie	Jun 17 2009, 07:48 AM Post #28
Anubis, Lord of the council Posts: 1,284 Group: Member Member #501 Joined: February 3, 2009	Very nice, very nice indeed.
	Bloodbath, The Ultimate Battle For Survival The Rp of Thraksheir Thraksheir, land of magic


The Bean	Jun 21 2009, 07:00 AM Post #29
Forum Kommisar Posts: 1,000 Group: Member Member #503 Joined: February 10, 2009	Ah, you've returned. I was wandering where you'd gotten to. Anyway, I've written some more. Enjoy! Chapter 8-Arkangthand I returned to Balmora to get my pay, yet another thousand gold pieces in return for the recipes, and left House Hlaalu's headquarters feeling extremely pleased with myself. After heading over to the South Wall Cornerclub to get a drink and some lunch, I decided that it was be time to report to Caius and see what surprises he had in store for me. Caius opened the door with the same foul tempered glare had worn before, but looked marginally more pleased when he realised it was me who had opened it. “You've got yourself nicely kitted out, I see,” he said, surveying my newly obtained suit of armour. “Come on in, lad.” As I entered Caius' home, he said to me; “You've met Quan, or so I've heard.” “That's right,” I said. “I've never seen a man like him before.” “I'm not surprised,” Caius said. “He's from Akavir.” “What?” I asked. “But I remember reading a book about Akavir-it said that all the people there were dead, eaten by snake people or something.” “Not all of them,” Caius said. “Quan doesn't talk about it much, but apparently there are still a few humans holding on to survival by the skin of their teeth.” “And Quan is one of the last?” I asked. “It sounds like something out of an old legend.” “It does, doesn't it?” Caius said. He sat down heavily on his bed and took a deep swig from a bottle. “So, I take it you're here for work?” “That' right,” I said. “Good, good,” Caius said. “I want you to go speak to Hasphat Antabolis at the Fighter's Guild and get some notes on the Nerevarine cult from him. Got that? He might want you to run a little errand for him in return, but it aught to be easy enough.” “Right,” I said. “I'll get going immediately.” I left Caius' house in high spirits over the ease of my given mission. So all I had to do was run a little errand for somebody at the fighter's guild and get some notes. Piece of cake. The fighter's guild was located on the other side of the river, but thanks to the fact that I had already visited while trying to get the armour it didn't take me long to find it again. After a bit of asking around, I discovered that Hasphat Antabolis (I still find that name incredibly silly, even after all these years) was usually found on the bottom floor. I hurried down there to see it was a large room that was bustling with activity, various people sparring or simply relaxing. I looked around for somebody who could be a Hasphat Antabolis, and saw somebody working over an oak desk like a scholar of some sort, an unusual sight in a guild otherwise made up of people who were effectively mercenaries. “You Hasphat Antabolis?” I asked. If I needed to find these notes on this cult of the Nerevarine, or whatever the name was, from Hasphat Antabolis then chances were that this scholarly looking person was him. “That's me,” he replied. “What do you want?” “I was told to get some notes on, what was it, the Nerevarine,” I said. “Ah yes,” the man said. “Caius mentioned he would be sending somebody. ” “And that somebody is me,” I said. “So, any chance of me having those notes?” “Not so fast,” Hasphat said, holding up a finger. “If you want these notes then you're going to have to earn them.” I slumped inwardly. Most likely 'earning' these notes would involve me going somewhere dangerous and killing something. Neither of those were prospects I was terribly keen on. “What do you want me to do?” I asked apprehensively. “There are some old ruins near here, dwemer ones,” Hasphat said. “I want you to head in there and retrieve something from me. It's a puzzle cube, made up of lots of little square segments, and I want to study that.” “A cube? That sounds easy enough,” I said. “Where can I find this place.” “Head towards Fort Moonmoth, that's the big Imperial Fort, and then take the left road uphill just before you get to it,” Hasphat said. “Head across the big dwemer bridge and up the hill a little further, and you ought to get to the ruins.” “Right,” I said. “Fort, bridge, ruins. Got you.” I turned, bid him farewell, and left. # So far, the walk had been a pleasant one. It was a faintly damp day, but with the sun filtering through the clouds it was warm enough. I had already headed past the fortress, wishing a dunmer herding some strange, reptilian creatures a good day, and after a short hike up the hill, reached the bridge. The greenery here was strange. There was a lot of greenery here, far more than around Ald-Ruhn's dryer clime, and while the soil was also ashy, it was far more moist. I'm no farmer, but I guessed it was a lot more fertile around here. I spied a figure waiting on the other side of the bridge, and kept a hand on the hilt of my sword as I approached. I'd yet to encounter any bandits, but I didn't want to take the risk. As soon as the man on the bridge saw me, he leapt to his feet, grabbing a large warhammer slung on his back. He yelled something incomprehensible and with a puff of smoke, a walking skeleton sprang into life before me, summoned by magic beyond my understanding. I gave a yell of surprise as the skeleton charged towards me. I dove away, evading the sweeping blade that aimed to decapitate me, instead having it clang on my armour. I landed hard, with an 'oof' of pain and scrambled to my feet before the skeleton's sword could end my life. I yanked my sabre free of its scabbard and sliced at the neck. It went wide and instead slammed into the side of the undead creature's skull, knocking it free. The skeleton crumpled to the ground, a lifeless pile of bones. However, my celebrations were short lived as the madman with the warhammer yelled something and charged at me, swinging his massive weapon wildly. I dodged back from him and swung with my sabre, the weapon clanging off the breastplate he wore. I delivered a desperate kick, and while not strong, it was enough to get him off balance. I drove home my advantage with an elbow, and knocked the man to the ground. Before I could finish him he scrambled up and fled down the way I had come, leaving his hammer behind. I picked it up-it looked a powerful weapon, but I abandoned it after it nearly wrenched my arms out of my sockets. I sat down and rested, sipping some water from a waterskin, and took a moment to catch my breath. I really needed to learn some more sword skills, I decided. If I had this much trouble beating an insane necromancer and his pet skeleton, I was going to be in trouble. After I had caught my breath, I carried on along the bridge, and took the left turning up the hill, as Hasphat had recommended. After a short walk further, past some old dead trees, I found the entrance to Arkangthand. It seemed to be a ball of sandy stone set into the otherwise iron grey rock of a cliff face, surrounded by a threshold of the same stuff. I approached it and tapped it experimentally, hoping to find some fault in the smooth sphere that I could prize open, but I could find none. I then remembered hearing some strange things about Dwemer technology, about how they had devices that could be operated by leavers that were too far away to utilise mere pulleys. I searched for one for a moment and almost immediately I saw a strange lever just a few metres away from where I was. It twisted it around a few times, before with a grinding hiss, the spherical doorway ground open, revealing another round portal into the underworld beyond. I pushed the heavy stone door open with some apprehension, and entered into one of the largest caverns I've ever encountered. Massive pipes coiled down from the ceiling, steam hissing from joints within them. Half a bridge protruded out from the rock wall, before it ended in a pile of masonry almost a hundred metres below. I made my way along the walkway that stretched over the huge cave, then down a long, spiralling rocky slope that protruded around the walls. I was stopped in my tracks by a call of “Hey, you! What are you doing?” I almost jumped when I heard the cry, and glanced down to see a pair of grizzled looking men, most likely thieves trying to steal the artifacts here, glaring up at me. No doubt they would attack me at a moment's notice, but there was no harm in throwing up a delay. “You're smugglers, aren't you?” I asked. “What if we are?” one them, a wood elf, asked. “You have a problem with that?” “Not at all,” I replied, faking sincerity. “I happen to be looking for an artefact, however. You happen to be obtaining some. Perhaps we can come to a deal?” The other one scrutinised me closely for a moment, before calling up; “Come on down. You can ask the boss.” I hurried down to where the two smugglers were, before one of them beckoned for me to follow them. They led me into a large stone facade carved from the rock of the cave. There were various metal cabinets and drawers placed against the carved stone walls, but what grabbed my attention were the lights. They were tubes, made of carefully blown glass and filled with what appeared to be golden lightning that flickered gently. Whatever spell was placed upon them to store the lightning must have been incredibly powerful for it to last all this time-this place was old enough to make you feel the history weighing down on you. “So, you're our visitor,” somebody said behind me. I had been so intrigued by the strange lights that I had almost forgotten where I was. “You want to buy something then?” I turned to see a nord talking to me. He was a dangerous man, judging by his white hair, long, lanky beard and scarred appearance. “That's right,” I said. “I'm a collector, you see, and I heard there was a particularly interesting piece of dwemer technology here. It's obvious to see that you've already been through some of the items here and you may have what I'm looking for.” “Perhaps we do,” the nord said. “But don't you lot usually get things legally, so to speak?” “Well, usually, yes,” I replied. “But sometimes it's just so much quicker to cut out the middle man, if you know what I mean. You know, get a guarantee on the item.” The nord gave me a look that said; 'You're a criminal. I'm a criminal too. We have both acknowledged that we're the lowest of the low and we can get on with business.' “What're you looking for?” he asked. “We might have it.” “A cube,” I said, trying to hurriedly recall Hasphat's explanation of its appearance. “Made of lots of little segments and the like.” “Ah, you must mean this,” the nord replied. He reached into a pocket and pulled out what could only be the puzzle cube that Hasphat mentioned. I nodded enthusiastically. “Might I inspect it?” I asked. “I need to examine it to see if it's the real thing.” The nord's eyes narrowed, but he decided that with his two cronies hanging around he could easily deal with me if I tried something. “Alright,” he said. “But no funny business.” I examined the cube with what appeared to be the critical eye of an expert, before breathing a sigh of amazement and saying; “That's the genuine article. You have no idea how much time you have saved me.” The nord looked pleased at that, before saying; “Well you're not just having it for free.” “Of course not, of course,” I replied. “How much were you thinking.” “Well,” the nord said. “I would say fifteen hundred septims, at the very least.” “Fifteen hundred?” I exclaimed. “That's ridiculous!” The process of haggling went on for a while, but suffice to say that we agreed on the price of a thousand septims. I payed the gold and he handed the cube over, before I left those ruins for good. As soon as I reached Balmora, on a journey that was blessedly free of made, hammer wielding necromancers, I approached the nearest guard and said; “Sir, I'd normally hate to bother you, but I was travelling past some Dwemer ruins just north of town and I found there were some smugglers stealing artifacts from there.” The guard thanked me and immediately left to gather together his fellow soldiers, no doubt to deal with the thieves. It would serve that bugger right for making me pay so damn much.



Illydoor	Jul 7 2009, 02:05 PM Post #30
Slaughterfish Posts: 168 Group: Member Member #527 Joined: May 5, 2009	Well I finally got round to reading this story Bean, but nevertheless here I am, and I must say I enjoyed it a lot. It's humorous and witty, plus the dialogue's great and is proof that you don't always need action-filled fight scenes to make a story exciting. It flows well and has a heart-warming kinda' feel to it. It's not cheesy either, it just pushes all the right buttons I think. A pleasant read indeed.



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