Post by soroner on Sept 24, 2006 9:18:02 GMT -5
This is what I have so far.
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Inside a musty cell in the Imperial Prison, Ilkan gro-Malog cursed by Aruza that he should get caught. He was sure that the Onyx Caverns would suffice as a hide-out from the Legion, and they had, that is until the bandits led the Legion there. Ilkan sat down on the slab of stone he now called a bed, and reminisced about what went wrong. *~*Flashback*~* He had woken up in the morning, after a very restless night of sleep, and he groggily sat up on his bedroll and uncomfortably leaned against the rock wall beside him. The bandits were unusually active last night, and quite loud. Unable to sleep, Ilkan had snuck down the treacherous path to the patio like recess in the rocks, that overlooked the bandits camp. The bandit ringleader was talking to his followers and from what he could gather, they were preparing to embark on the biggest heist they had ever performed. “They can thank me later.” murmured Ilkan, knowing it would be an easy job in the wake of the Count’s death.
His nose was greeted by the sweet smell of the cooked meat, and he devoured it hastily, so quick in fact, he couldn’t even savor the taste. Tossing the scraps into the ever growing pile across from him, he snatched the parchment that lay beside his greaves. Wondering what the set of Daedric armor he was promised for the job would feel like, he decided that it would be much heavier than the Orcish he currently carried for battles. Having no idea of what he should be doing, Ilkan decided to sharpen his blade. It was a wonderfully crafted Elven Longsword with absolutely no flaws, short of the amount of blood on the tip. Dipping the blade’s tip into the previously boiling water, the blood seemed to melt off it. Hearing the clanking of armor coming from the alternate, hidden entrance to the cave, Ilkan immediately concluded that the bandits had returned to the caverns. Judging from the shouts and cheers, their operation had been successful. Snickering to himself, Ilkan laid back on his bedroll to pass some time, as he had nothing productive to do.
Awakened by a loud banging and cracking noise, Ilkan knew someone was entering the cavern by the main entrance. This perplexed him extremely as the bandits had made it a point to never use it. “There’s no escape scum!” echoed an Imperial Soldier’s voice. Ilkan cursed his the bandits that had obviously led the Legion here, and he hastily gathered his equipment. Leaving his fire burning and his store of meat, he snatched up his armor and blade, threw it in his sack, and sprinted for the hidden exit. “Stop” came from behind him, and he knew he was caught. Not to fond of the idea of being imprisoned, Ilkan did not heed the warning. Thud! Ilkan ducked as an arrow grazed his left shoulder. He would not be so lucky with the second arrow however, witch lodged itself deep inside his shoulder, slamming into his clavicle. Ilkan fell to the ground and was forced to surrender to the soldiers, who immediately recognized him as the murderer of the Count.
“Hey, Pig!” grunted the guard, snapping Ilkan out of his recollection. Turning quickly, he winced as the wound on his shoulder tore open again. “You’ll get yours” Ilkan replied, “Sooner than you think.” He meet the gaze of the Dunmer named Velen Dreth, who signaled him to shut up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside a musty cell in the Imperial Prison, Ilkan gro-Malog cursed by Aruza that he should get caught. He was sure that the Onyx Caverns would suffice as a hide-out from the Legion, and they had, that is until the bandits led the Legion there. Ilkan sat down on the slab of stone he now called a bed, and reminisced about what went wrong. *~*Flashback*~* He had woken up in the morning, after a very restless night of sleep, and he groggily sat up on his bedroll and uncomfortably leaned against the rock wall beside him. The bandits were unusually active last night, and quite loud. Unable to sleep, Ilkan had snuck down the treacherous path to the patio like recess in the rocks, that overlooked the bandits camp. The bandit ringleader was talking to his followers and from what he could gather, they were preparing to embark on the biggest heist they had ever performed. “They can thank me later.” murmured Ilkan, knowing it would be an easy job in the wake of the Count’s death.
His nose was greeted by the sweet smell of the cooked meat, and he devoured it hastily, so quick in fact, he couldn’t even savor the taste. Tossing the scraps into the ever growing pile across from him, he snatched the parchment that lay beside his greaves. Wondering what the set of Daedric armor he was promised for the job would feel like, he decided that it would be much heavier than the Orcish he currently carried for battles. Having no idea of what he should be doing, Ilkan decided to sharpen his blade. It was a wonderfully crafted Elven Longsword with absolutely no flaws, short of the amount of blood on the tip. Dipping the blade’s tip into the previously boiling water, the blood seemed to melt off it. Hearing the clanking of armor coming from the alternate, hidden entrance to the cave, Ilkan immediately concluded that the bandits had returned to the caverns. Judging from the shouts and cheers, their operation had been successful. Snickering to himself, Ilkan laid back on his bedroll to pass some time, as he had nothing productive to do.
Awakened by a loud banging and cracking noise, Ilkan knew someone was entering the cavern by the main entrance. This perplexed him extremely as the bandits had made it a point to never use it. “There’s no escape scum!” echoed an Imperial Soldier’s voice. Ilkan cursed his the bandits that had obviously led the Legion here, and he hastily gathered his equipment. Leaving his fire burning and his store of meat, he snatched up his armor and blade, threw it in his sack, and sprinted for the hidden exit. “Stop” came from behind him, and he knew he was caught. Not to fond of the idea of being imprisoned, Ilkan did not heed the warning. Thud! Ilkan ducked as an arrow grazed his left shoulder. He would not be so lucky with the second arrow however, witch lodged itself deep inside his shoulder, slamming into his clavicle. Ilkan fell to the ground and was forced to surrender to the soldiers, who immediately recognized him as the murderer of the Count.
“Hey, Pig!” grunted the guard, snapping Ilkan out of his recollection. Turning quickly, he winced as the wound on his shoulder tore open again. “You’ll get yours” Ilkan replied, “Sooner than you think.” He meet the gaze of the Dunmer named Velen Dreth, who signaled him to shut up.