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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:50:20 GMT -5
*sigh* I hate it when people use photographs as avatars. I find it annoying...
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Post by dogonda on Sept 30, 2006 19:51:46 GMT -5
would it make you happier if i found something disgusting and vile?
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:59:19 GMT -5
Hmmm... Yes, I do believe it would.
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 21:54:50 GMT -5
Malene looked up from the counter where she was working as someone walked through the front door. She was surprised to see a member of the Imperial Legion here. She hadn’t seen one since the trouble with Oblivion had been resolved. Perhaps he wanted a room. Even guards had to sleep, and she had not heard a horse outside. He certainly looked exhausted. The air of confidence normally exuded by the legionnaires was missing. No, not so much gone as it was suppressed.
“Would you like a bed for the night, sir,” she said. “If you could call it a bed,” she added to herself. She was not particularly happy about the quality of her establishment, but it was all she could afford to maintain, even now. “Only ten gold for the night,” she finished. The guard gave her a soul piercing look that made her nervous. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and spoke. “I’m looking for someone. Perhaps you can help,” he said. When she nodded for him to continue; he said, “I was told that a man, named Nestyr, was staying here. I believe he can help me.” Malene’s eyes widened briefly at the mention of the name. Luckily, she recovered quickly and did not think the man, tired as he seemed to be, had noticed.
“There is an old man staying here,” she stated, her heart racing. “I don’t know his name, but you are welcome to speak with him when he returns. He takes a walk every night and does not return until late. You seem tired. Why don’t you spend the night here, and you can meet him in the morning?” The man started to shake his head but then stopped. After thinking for a minute, he nodded and through a bag of gold pieces onto the counter. He turned and trudged up the stairs, seeming to fall asleep as he went.
Malene relaxed a little now that he was gone but still didn’t know what she was going to do. This was not a good development. She grabbed a coat and hurried out the door. She had to get a warning out as fast as possible. Malene just hoped that she was wrong about the seriousness of the situation. The last thing they could afford was a complication at this late date. As she ran out the door, her necklace caught on a nail, ripping it from her neck. Malene collapsed and lay on the floor, unmoving. Her eyes stared blankly off into space. One of the men at the table went over and calmly picked the pearly white amulet up off the floor. He looped the golden chain around Malene’s neck. She blinked and started climbing to her feet. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed back to the floor
“You need to be more careful with that,” he scolded, helping her up. “Keep it under your clothing so that doesn’t happen again.” She steadied herself, gave the men at the table a sheepish look and rushed back out the door. Not one of the four noticed the figure, cloaked in shadow outside the door, who had witnessed the odd event unfold.
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 1, 2006 11:52:40 GMT -5
Maximilian Gerrard ducked as a bolt of blue lightning crackled through the space his head had just occupied. He thought he could smell the sickly sweet fragrance of singed hair. He reached a hand up to feel the top of his head but could not tell what, if anything, had been burnt. He turned to look at the person who had cast the spell and glowered as he saw her giggle.
“Rebecca, you need to be more careful. I could have been hurt,” Max said, still glaring at her. Rebecca was an apprentice at the Arcane University, as was Max. Max had managed to be granted entry into the Arcane University shortly before Arch Mage Traven’s death. Rebecca had arrived two weeks after the tragedy. Her full name was Rebecca Traven and Max sometimes suspected that the main reason she had been accepted was because she was related to the late Arch Mage. He considered Rebecca to be a tad foolish. Not that she wasn’t a powerful mage, most Bretons were after all, but she seemed to lack the finesse to efficiently control that raw energy. He tried to hold his seniority, small as it was, over head. Unfortunately, the mild disdain he attempted to display, like a great many things, went right over her head instead.
Max had entered the practice room, only to find Rebecca already hard at work on target practice. Apparently, it was an area she desperately needed the practice in. The target she had been aiming at was nowhere near the door, for obvious safety reasons. Unfortunately, thought Max, nothing is foolproof. Had he walked in the door a split second later, he would have been gravely injured at best.
“The Arch Mage wants to see us,” Max explained. “Apparently he wants to discuss that guard that we helped heal a couple days ago. It sounded important and…” Max trailed off as he realized that Rebecca had stopped listening to him. She had gotten a weird look in her eyes as if she were staring past him. He opened his mouth to ask what she was staring at when he heard a voice.
“Lähmen!” the voice shouted. Max froze in place. His limbs felt as if they had been turned to lead, and he fell to the ground. He was unable to stretch his arms, and the floor rushed up to meet his unprotected face. He was laying on the floor in the position he had been in when the spell was cast. He heard barking laughter behind him but could not turn his head to see who it was.
Rebecca turned toward Max with a disgusted look on her face. She pointed a finger at him and said, “heile Lähmung.” Suddenly his limbs seemed to turn to jelly, and his formerly rigid body was limply splayed across the floor. After a second, Max regained his strength and stood up. He turned to face his tormenter. Maeryll was standing on the steps to the second floor, still cackling with glee. Maeryll was an Altmer and one of the most gifted apprentices in the Arcane University. He, like many of his race, looked down on anyone who was not themselves a High Elf. He would often play “jokes” on people in the University. Occasionally one of his victims might actually get hurt. Fortunately for Maeryll, he had family ties to the Guild and only ever received a slap on the wrist. It was not so bad if you were a Breton. Because they were half elven, Bretons were rarely had to weather the brunt of one Maeryll’s outbursts. Unfortunately for Max, he was one of the few Redguard mages. Because of this, Maeryll took a special delight in tormenting him. Max started to retaliate, but Rebecca grabbed his arm.
“Come on,” she insisted, “we shouldn’t keep the Arch Mage waiting.” His face still hot from anger and embarrassment, Max could only nod in reply. He and Rebecca walked out of the building leaving Maeryll, still chuckling gleefully, behind
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 2, 2006 7:34:12 GMT -5
The pair stepped outside into the cool morning air. The sun had barely started to climb above the grey stone walls surrounding them. A light dew still clung to the grass, soon its existence snuffed out by the rising sun. Max stopped and leaned against the cold wall of the building he had just left and tried to catch his breath. Maeryll always got him so worked up that it was hard for him to keep calm. He glanced over at Rebecca to see her watching him intently. Her gaze softened and she stepped closer and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Beruhige,” she whispered lightly. Max’s breathing slowed. He began to calm down and feel relaxed. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders by Rebecca’s touch. He glanced up at her with newfound admiration in his eyes. For the first time, he began to suspect that she may have gained entry to the University on her own merit after all. Suddenly, Max realized something that had never occurred to him before. He had only ever seen her make mistakes with destruction spells. That was all she ever seemed to practice which, he now realized, was because that was the area she had the most trouble with. She was probably one of those people with a natural talent for benevolent magic. Most ended up as clerics in a temple somewhere. Rebecca may have even followed that course except for her, late, uncle’s position. She was not an inept mage after all, just a very specialized one.
“I never realized how good you are as a healer,” he started, before coming to another realization. “That was why you were chosen to be one of the ones that worked on the guard. He needed our best healers and you were one of them.” Rebecca turned her head and blushed. She was not used to being complimented by Max. Max wondered if perhaps she was a bit sharper than she let on. He remembered the way he had acted to her before and his shame felt like a heavy stone in his chest, weighing him down. After several seconds of awkward silence, Rebecca spoke.
“We really should be going,” she said softly. “The Arch Mage has been waiting quite awhile for us to arrive.” Nodding, Max picked himself up and started for the main tower with Rebecca close behind. They hurried up the steps and into the lobby. As they came to the teleporter, the pair stopped and looked at one another. Neither of them had ever used a portal before. Ordinarily, apprentices were not allowed in the upper levels of the main building. A call from the Arch Mage, however, was anything but ordinary.
“Ladies first,” said Max grinning. Rebecca scowled at him for a moment but could not keep her own face from breaking into a grin as well. She stepped onto the platform and disappeared in a whirlwind of lights. Max took a deep breath and stepped forward. Time seemed slow as little points of light rose from the floor and began to swirl around his feet. They rose higher and higher until his whole body was surrounded by balls of light. Suddenly, time sped up again and the lights spun faster and faster until they formed a sheet of blinding light. As suddenly as it had started, the light vanished, leaving Max standing in darkness.
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 2, 2006 17:10:59 GMT -5
I guess I'll break this up myself v_v
I can't stand not having replies between posts. Makes it look like a Wall O' Text
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Valgaera
Inactive Member
I am the Light within the Darkness
Je suis le Lumi?re dans l'Obscurit
Posts: 124
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Post by Valgaera on Oct 2, 2006 18:10:58 GMT -5
Bumpsicle.
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 3, 2006 14:45:31 GMT -5
Meton Adflictatio walked briskly down the hall. Darkness shrouded the end of tunnel, making it impossible to see more than five feet ahead. Water droplets fell from the ceiling; the steady, rhythmic dripping the only thing by which the passage of time could be marked in the dank subterranean dungeon. The air was stale and tasted sour, reminding one of the stench of rotting flesh. Oblivious to all of this, Meton continued down tunnel. The echoes of his boot in the cold stone floor preceded him, striking terror into the hearts of those who heard it. He walked past the rooms in the passageway without so much as glancing through the barred window on each door. The occupant of every cell was huddled in a corner; usually with his head under a pillow, praying that the footsteps outside would pass him by.
After what seemed an eternity to the inmates, the clicking of Meton’s footsteps ceased. He had reached the final door at the end of the hall. A hooded guard stood on either side of the door, as silent and unmoving as statues. Meton gave a slight nod and they stepped aside, one reaching out a scaly hand to insert a key into the door. The rusted hinges squealed in protest as the door swung open. Inside, an old man sat cross-legged on the floor, his back straight and his eyes closed. Meton stepped into the small chamber and the door slammed behind him. The cell was tiny; the opposite wall could not have been more than seven feet from the door. The ceiling was low and forced Meton to bend over in an extremely uncomfortable position, not that he seemed to notice the discomfort. There was barley enough light to see by, the only source of illumination being the barred window to the dimly lit hall. A rat ran past his foot, and he crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. He proceeded over to the man on the floor and calmly kicked him in the stomach. The man was sent sprawling, clutching his abdomen in pain.
“This is your last chance, Nestyr,” pronounced Meton, icily. “The council’s patience is wearing thin.” Meton gave Nestyr another sharp kick to reinforce his point. Nestyr’s eyes began to glaze over as he slipped into unconsciousness. Meton reached down, grabbed him by the beard and yanked him to his feet. “What say you?” Meton inquired. Nestor’s eyes suddenly focused and hardened as he stared at his foe. For the first time, emotion showed on Meton’s face. “So be it,” he said, smiling cruelly. “I have been looking forward to this for quite a while now.” Meton pulled a serrated dagger from beneath his robes. The blade was long curved, and it shone with the reflection of non-existant light. The hilt was gold and covered in strange markings that twisted there way down to a large, blood red stone set in the base. Nestyr’s eyes widened as his gaze fell upon the blade. Meton’s eyes, on the other hand, shone even brighter than his blade as he set to work.
Nestyr’s screams echoed up and down the hall for the next hour. Finally, they were cut short and all that could be heard was a faint gurgling. After a moment, even that faded. Inside of their cells, the prisoners began to relax; one or two even dozed off. After that workout, they new from experience, Meton would not need to pay any of them a visit, not that night at least. The harsh clicking of footsteps was once again heard in the corridor before vanishing, like a bad dream, into night.
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Valgaera
Inactive Member
I am the Light within the Darkness
Je suis le Lumi?re dans l'Obscurit
Posts: 124
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Post by Valgaera on Oct 3, 2006 18:58:21 GMT -5
More, damnit!!!
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Post by dogonda on Oct 3, 2006 19:02:13 GMT -5
I like mine to look big.
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 3, 2006 19:38:21 GMT -5
Your what?
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 4, 2006 17:08:50 GMT -5
Max blinked several times before his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The room was small. It was illuminated by a strange red glow that filled the chamber, but, try as he might, Max could not find its source. Directly in front of him, a large table took up most of the room. Sitting at the far end of the table was a robed man. His faced was masked by the shadow of his hood, creating in Max’s mind the eerie illusion of a faceless specter staring at him from behind the darkness. Despite this feeling, he had an odd sensation of familiarity, as if he recognized the figure. Max took a second look and finally noticed the man’s attire. His long flowing robes were a light blue, almost the color of the sea. Bathed in the red light, the rippling robe reminded Max of the harbor at sunset. The image was reinforced by a faint, barely discernable shimmer that emanated from the fabric. At that moment, the elusive memory of his surroundings struck him like the war hammer of a minotaur, suddenly and forcefully.
Seeing the recognition finally dawn in the young mage’s eyes, the man stood up and, in a light but commanding voice, said, “The teleportation can often be disorienting to those who are unaccustomed to the process. I can forgive you for not recognizing me more promptly as did your friend.” The Arch Mage, for that was who the figure was, gestured to the shadows, form which Rebecca stepped, unsuccessfully attempting to suppress the grin spreading across her face. “I have very important information to depart upon the both of you,” continued the Arch Mage. “I trust that you will keep what I have to say confidential.” It was a statement, not a question. “There have been unsettling incidents occurring across the province. Before we continue in that line of thought, however, I have a few vital questions to which I require responses. First, Rebecca, what is your opinion of the condition in which that unfortunate guard finds himself?
“Well, Arch Mage,” Rebecca began hesitantly; “I suppose I agree with what we put in our official report. He suffered some sort of trauma that unbalanced him mentally; possibly with some connection to magic, according to what our mystics tell us.”
“I did not request that you regurgitate the official report,” stated the Arch Mage with visible annoyance. “I asked you here to find out your opinion. Do you think you might attempt answering my question again?”
Rebecca tried several times to speak before finding her voice. “I-I,” she stuttered before taking a deep breath. “I guess I’m not sure I agree with the report, not completely anyway. His aura was very faint, more so even than an animal. This was the basis for the belief that magic was involved. All living things have an aura. The stronger the soul of the thing, the more powerful the aura. Intelligent beings, of course have the strongest aura of all. As far as anyone knows, there is no way to affect an aura through physical means other than destroying one completely by killing.”
“You don’t agree?” inquired the Arch Mage, interested now.
“Oh no, I agree,” Rebecca continued more confidently now. “I just think that no one really stopped to consider the significance of the fact. Magic can affect an aura, most mystics can see an aura as a purple cloud around the living. But to diminish an aura requires direct interference with the soul. The only form of magic that bares any resemblance to this case is that used in the transformation to a lich, when the mage removes his soul and places it an object.”
“Very good,” stated the Arch Mage before turning to Max. “Now, why can’t a lich be the explanation for this case?”
“Because of what becoming a lich requires,” started Max confidently. “One needs an extensive knowledge of magic, especially the black arts, to become a lich. It also requires time. This man was gone for less than a day. Finally, the transformation requires that the subject be willing. I can think of no reason why a guard of the Imperial City would desire to become a lich.”
The Arch Mage smiled. “Perhaps you two are the right people to task with this assignment after all. You obviously have the wit for this assignment and few of the preconceptions about magic that other, more experienced mages have. We have not been able to discover the exact nature of our troubles but what we have uncovered is most troubling.” His smile dissolved and his expression turned grim. He lay his hardened stare on the two young magi and asked, “What do you know of the land called Akavir?”
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Valgaera
Inactive Member
I am the Light within the Darkness
Je suis le Lumi?re dans l'Obscurit
Posts: 124
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Post by Valgaera on Oct 4, 2006 17:52:45 GMT -5
Hurry up with the new stuff!!!!!
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Post by Delta1212 on Oct 4, 2006 18:14:40 GMT -5
Hey! I've got a lot going on right now. I'm going as fast as I can. Hopefully, I'll be posting new stuff by Friday.
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